Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Maybe it's just me
When my baby died everyone was so understanding and there for me. The first anniversary, again understanding. It's now been six years and it seems as if (almost) everyone has forgotten her. I don't cry as often (and now almost never in public) as when the wound to my heart was fresh, raw and exposed. But it still hurts. Not as often or for as long, but she's always going to be my baby. Why doesn't anyone understand that? I feel as if people who haven't lost one of their own children think; "Why is she still dwelling on that? It was so long ago." Or worse, "Isn't she over that yet?" Over? How do you get over holding your baby in your arms as her breaths get deeper and further apart? As you watch and pray for one more breath to come? As you hold her against your chest and know that that was her last breath? How do you get over knowing that you'll never hear her cry again, or feel her grasp your finger, or see her open her eyes and look up at her mommy, or feel her warm breath. All this only a few short hours after the joy, the unimaginable, unconditional, overwhelming love of having givin birth for the first time. Watching as a tiny perfect human being emerges from my own body. A girl! She cries while still attached to me through our umbilical cord, and though we are still one, we are two. How do you get over it? Maybe it's just me.