Sunrise, Sunset

There has been a lack of writing. I have done a lot in my head, but when I go to put those thoughts down, my mind goes blank. The last week has had so many ups and downs it is really a roller coaster.

I have thought a lot recently about how life and death are so intertwined. How quickly death followed the almost life of my little son. He never truly lived, except in my womb. He was the most active baby I have had. Always moving, changing positions, stretching out and curled up. He was so full of life. This moving is ultimately what caused his death. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I think there was a moment that Nate, our midwife, and I all felt that he truly passed on the way to the hospital. He was so close to life, but he was dead. Then he was resuscitated and brought back. It was truly only a half life. I am not sure how much his spirit was even in his body those nine days. I did feel watched over and like he was merely there for us. He had what he needed and was gone.

I have been struck by how often such things used to occur, when infant death were much more commonplace. Women went into giving birth prepared for death. Death of their baby or their own. Death lingers so close to this pinnacle of life. Most of the time, the outcome is just as it should be. Healthy mother, healthy baby. Not all are so lucky though.

When you look at a picture of a sunrise or sunset, it can often be hard to tell which one it actually is. What separates them is so small, it is an opening or a closing. Sometimes it is indistinguishable.

I suppose in a way it does comfort me. The sunset isn't truly the end. There is always another sunrise.

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8 Weeks

Today was 8 weeks since Phineas was born. I am doing OK after a couple really hard weeks. The reality of it all is so heavy and overpowering. There have been good moments too. The good moments are increasing I think, and then the hard ones come at those quiet moments, creeping up behind me when my mind starts to wander. I miss his so very much.

Yesterday was Nate's birthday and it was good. I am grateful for him. So very grateful. We had a good evening at the movies and then we had a cake. It was nice to feel a bit more normal again.

I just feel tired and stretched a bit too thin. I am trying to get through it. Walking in the morning, staying busy during the day, trying to accomplish things. Ah, I will get through it. I will.

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I Meant to Write Something

but I didn't.

I survived the last few days. They were hard. We received his death certificate in the mail on Friday. Strange. Mothers Day ways OK. Bittersweet. I was asked at church by someone who doesn't know me how many children I had. Without hesitation, I said, "Two." Then I felt guilty about it. But to explain I only have two living would be much harder to say and she probably didn't care to hear about it anyhow. Then the last few days I have just felt awful and heavy tired and sore. And hurt. I fell down the stairs twice in less than a week. It is the third time living in this house. Gah, I didn't know how much more I could take.

So I didn't write. I am now, but it feels only half-hearted. I am feeling better but sometimes I am just surviving and that is all I can do. I think sometimes of a quote from a movie. "I gotta keep breathing. Because tomorrow the sun will rise. Who knows what the tide could bring?" And that is it. I gotta keep breathing and living. It's OK. I don't know what the future will bring, but I hope it includes happiness and healing. But for now, I am just surviving.

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Out of the Nest

Today I went with my friend to her elder son's track meet. The kids were running around playing, Cecily and Cordelia with two other girls around Cecily's age. Calvin, my friend's younger son who is 10, was walking around the trees near the track. He came over worried about a baby bird that was on the ground. Calvin was wondering what he should do to help this little bird. Truly, there was nothing he could do. There was no nest to be found and the little bird could not fly. The fledgling's parents were also incapable of saving it. How sad it is to come across a situation where the outcome is so bleak.

And yet, that is the way of life, one false move, one simple misstep, one moment and the world can change. Death is such a common thing. It happens to every being. Everything with a spirit only has a limited time in their earthly state. Some lives are long and others are so very short. I posted something a couple years ago about how incomprehensible the death of a young child would be. How funny it all seems now. I have now gone to that precipice. I have seen my young son barely live and go on to somewhere I cannot. He has surpassed me. There was nothing I could do about it. I was helpless. My own fledgling out on his own, not able to survive.

That is how it is with death. One moment we are living and going about our day and in another moment it could all change. The only consolation is that while he has shuffled of his mortal coil, Phineas still lives. Always my perfect little baby. Always mine. All is eternal, even the little bird today. I do pray that I can remember that.

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Another Day

Yesterday marked one month since Phineas' death. I felt more trepidation about the day he would have been a month old. The day of his death was actually rather peaceful. It was hard, yes, but I felt strength that day that I can't describe.

It was so strange. The night before we made an appointment for his death. The thought of doing such a thing is almost sickening. We were supposed to be there at 4 to sign the papers. They had to have two doctors there to sign. The attending doctor, who at first I thought was so distant, but who ended up crying with us over his death, and the resident who was an all business know-it-all.

I woke up that Friday morning feeling nervous and sick about it all. I was not sure how I would absorb it all. Our bishop's wife came an picked up the girls and we drove to New York to the hospital. We received a call from a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep and she said she was on her way to meet us there.

We arrived and went to his bedside. I stroked his head and little toes while they told us what would happen. We decided to wait in the "transition room" (basically a storage room with a bathroom attached, where we stayed for two nights) while they removed the tubes and wires and cleaned him up. They brought him to us, beautiful and sweet, and his heart was just barely beating. I could feel his spirit near, like he was there reassuring me. We each got to cuddle him with our family members near while he slipped away. The photographer took some wonderful pictures. Then, everyone left us alone with our sweet boy.

By then, he had been confirmed dead, but I just wanted to hold his little body for as long as I could. His hands and feet. His cute little ears just like Nate's. I couldn't imagine letting him go. We cried together over our little boy lost. We wanted him so.

Eventually, I had to give him up to the hospital staff. I put him back in the bassinet and the nurse wheeled him down the hall and out our sight.

That was it. I felt great peace, but my heart was still an ocean of sadness and longing.



So yesterday, didn't feel to bad, but Nate and I just felt overwhelmed and anxious the whole day. I think, inside we knew. A month gone. A lifetime over. A lifetime left to live. We just have to get through it, one day after another. I hope we make it.

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