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Thursday, May 24, 2012

Right Where I Am: 2 years, 2 months

Has it been a year already? Last year, I participated in Angie's Right Where I Am project and she has decided to run another this year. I am looking forward to being a part of this again and to seeing where others are. If you are a part of the babyloss community, I urge you to share where you are, too, here.

Twenty-six months ago, today, our third child was born. He died 9 days later in another state after existing almost entirely on life support.

I remember those early days, when I would wish myself a couple years in the future like other mothers were, wanting to escape the ever present pain I felt. I read in books about the stage of grief called Acceptance.


How I longed for it and feared it. I feared betraying my boy. That accepting his death and my grief would not be keeping him present in my life.

I am there now. Acceptance. Not so scary as I thought. He's mine, he's present. He is a part of our lives everyday. I see his picture on our wall and now, there is usually a smile and a tear for my dear one. I see his image in his younger brother's face still sometimes while he sleeps. Little moments everyday, weaving himself into our new normal.

I imagine sometimes that my grief is like a well. Deep and dark blue. I go everyday to take a bit of it. Some days, I drink a little more deeply and I need that. Other times, the well overflows, and that's okay. It's my well and I can visit whenever I need.

I struggle, I cry. Today is a good day and those are becoming more common. Today is a day that I can rejoice in the person my Phineas is helping me become. In the life we are leading because of him. I still hope that I am the mother he needs me to be.



Monday, May 21, 2012

A Funny Thing

A couple days ago, I was messing around on Facebook. Just looking at pictures and things that my friends had posted. A couple friends had posted pictures of their sons. They are both in the 4 year old range and adorable kids. I had a strange feeling of longing. A pang of sadness. A stab of anger. Why?

Usually, I have tried to avoid pictures of the babies, now toddlers, that had been born around the same time as Phineas. I know quite a few, actually, and they are mostly boys. It's getting easier, but there are still moments I wonder. But why had these pictures affected me so?

I longed for my son, for the boy he'd be becoming. Now, as his younger brother is starting to become a proper little boy, I know we are well past babyhood for both of them. I don't have the sadness I did when I was around small babies that I did for a long time. I can see them and marvel in them. There is no rage of jealousy or anger that their parents got what I didn't.

We watched a show last night where people were discussing their lives and a couple people had suffered significant losses in their lives. Of course, one of them had lost a baby boy at birth. Like that mother, our loss has caused me to examine myself more, to cherish more.

Nate and I sometimes say how enamored we are with our little Frederick, and why that is. Why is our connection so powerful, even stronger than when the girls were babies? It's not him, though, it's Phineas. We treasure all of our children much more since we have lost. Sometimes I just sit and gaze at my children, trying to soak in every bit of them, counting moments. I know there are only so many for each of us. I think this is the essence of what loss has done to us.


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