Dear Lost One,
Two months have past since I lost you, but in a blink of an eye I can go back to the day I found out you would never take a breath, that I would never hear your cry, that you would never take your uncertain and wobbly first steps. I can only hope that, even though your life was brief, that you could feel the power of my love. It's a love that only a mother can feel for a baby.
Sometimes I feel everyone thinks I should be over it. No one ever asks anymore how I'm doing or how I'm feeling. Things have gotten much easier but sometimes out of nowhere I am struck by the raw pain and reality of losing you. Like when I was packing up the attic and found my old maternity clothes or at your sister's birthday party when I realized that I should be proudly sporting a 16 week bump, or when I see two small sisters dancing together and I'm reminded that I've failed to provide that bond for Isabella.
I can relive every moment of it with such vivid clarity that I'm sure remembrance is the sweetest curse. I can remember knowing something was wrong long before a doctor told me so. I remember the bruises from the countless blood draws. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office surrounded by women whose bellies swelled with promise. I remember biting back the tears that burned in my eyes when I was talking to the doctor about the methotrexate. Sometimes I relive it at night like a movie that I can't turn off, like a ghost that haunts me.
Most days I'm ok. Most days I'm happy. Most days I miss you less than the day before. But you will always be a part of me. A part of me that knows what it means to understand loss. A part that will always count you as her baby. My sweet little lost one.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Dear Lost One,
Posted by Melissa G. at 5:00 AM