Thursday, February 7, 2013

Some more...

...random thoughts.

My sleep deprived brain, which is coursing with mommy hormones, is playing tricks on me. It's telling me to return to the hospital. That he is exactly where we left him. Down the hall to the corner room. Crack the door and peek in to see our precious son in the isolette right beside the window. We wanted him to experience the beautiful sunset that fateful birthday. 

Let's just go get him. He must be there, right where we left him.


We are 5 weeks into breast feeding. My boobs leak, often. Most times it just happens naturally an hour or so before she's due to eat again. But they also leak when I think about my babies. I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep and all I could think about was sweet A. Sure enough the milk starting flowing. In a way this comforted me. My boobs, my body still recognize him as my child even if so many others no longer mention him.

Many family members and friends are lining up to meet Dragon. A few of them, for various reasons, have never seen A's photos. I want to make it a rule - If you haven't sat with us in the heartache of looking through his album, then you don't get to snuggle this warm, living bundle of adorable-ness. You cannot acknowledge half of my children. It's all or none.

And don't me started on our friends who never sent a text, card, email or called after A was stillborn. Never said a thing, even 7 months later when we got together or the first time since his birth.

But I don't make any such rules. And I don't cut said friends out of my life. I am trying to be forgiving. Trying.


It is low tide. The waves gently carry my son further away from me. I stand on the shore his infant sister at my breast. Clutching her with one hand, my other arm reaches desperately for him. He floats calmly on the waves. I cannot reach him. I cannot put her down to dive in. I scream; call his name, implore him to come back. I crumble to the ground sobbing, knowing he is beyond my reach. I glance down at the baby on my chest and cry harder.

Why does it feel like one or the other?


  1. Oh, my friend. This is so hard. It is an impossible situation: to want them both so badly. I wish there were more comfort to give you - sending virtual hugs, a lot of them.

  2. I'm glad you are trying to be forgiving. That is probably healthy. But I wouldn't try too hard. You, E and your babies deserve all your energy! xoxo

  3. Oh my dear. My brain played the same tricks on me, I thought that G was in the hospital, hidden away, if only I could find her. Right where I left her.

    It feels like one or the other. But it isn't? Not in your own heart. They know that they are equal there.

  4. Yes, it does seem like a choice to me too. To lay down and allow nature to take me so I can be with my baby, or fight to stand and be here for those still alive. It's not a simple choice.

    Sending big kisses to you and your new little dragon <3

  5. I want them both too. But I feel my A slipping away, I feel her being forgotten by those around me with each day that O gets older. And I just have to scream, she was here, she was real, she IS my baby too, PLEASE don't forget her or the fact I miss her so much, still. This conundrum of wanting them both so badly... Right there with you. xx Di