I wear my scars on the inside
Today was my niece’s first birthday party. I was looking forward to it happily, thinking mostly about BabyH and how big she is getting. Most of the time I see her as her own person, with somewhat of blinders on. It wasn’t until yesterday that I started thinking that there was probably going to be a lot of people there.
I intended to be there early. I thought it would be good to see BabyH before the people started arriving, since she gets withdrawn around strangers. I wanted to bring my camera, I wanted to get awesome pics of her today on this special day. But I got distracted in my garden, dirty and sweaty and happily content to lose track of time in the sunshine. So I was behind schedule getting dressed.
And then we got halfway there and I realized I forgot my camera. Normally not a big issue. But the pictures was something that I had been thinking about all week, and the thought of not having my camera to hide behind, to focus on, was an unpleasant one. I drove home to get it, which put me in an annoyed mood.
As I walked across the lawn I was taken aback to see kids and babies running everywhere. I shouldn’t have been, but for some reason it never crossed my mind that there would be other kids there.
The day went fine. We ate, I took pictures, I sat and talked with family, SIL opened gifts.
And again, just like the shower, it was the gifts that got to me. Gifts for the child, celebrating life. You don’t give gifts to the dead. I looked around at the celebration, the contentment, the comradarie and thought… this is how it’s supposed to be. Devin had a party, Deven had recognition, but it wasn’t the same. It never will be.
After the party, when everyone but family had gone home and we were sitting around the fire Den asked how I was doing, did I have a good day? “It was good, fine… but hard,” I said. And I just started crying softly…. crying for all of the things we missed out on with Devin.
Grief. It’s no longer such a heart-wrenching chasm. It’s a scar, it aches. It’s always present, but sometimes I forget it’s there. But once in a while something causes me to look down and remember that it is there and what was lost along the way.
Yes, we do, don’t we?
I’m sorry sweetie. To all the baby loss mama’s… I’m sorry. I wish there could be a day for all of you that the pain goes away forever but I know love can’t allow for that. I better go to bed before I wind up in tears. Love yah Nat.
That grief is a tricky thing, sneaking up on you when you least expect it. Even if it’s when you should.
Much love.
oh hunny i am sooooooo sorry… you know without having gone through this, losing a child it’s hard to relate to those who have…I thank you for opening my eyes and being able to be more cautious to others feelings(if it ever came) in the future…i tend to empathize with people’s hurt/pain but sometimes when you don’t know…it’s not easy and for continuously sharing your story I thank you:)
on a side note positivity…you will be able to experience all these wonderful things soon…i strongly believe in it…
p.s. any pg symptoms yet??? when are you planning on testing…
I can’t help but think of stories I have heard of people who have lost limbs. They suffer from “ghost pains,” sensations come from where the limb should be, but isn’t, because the brain just can’t process that it’s really gone.
I think we have those too.
I’m sorry, Nat.
I wish it wasn’t like this for you Nat, so hard, the joy and sadness mixing all the time,
hey do you have facebook…I would like to keep in contact with you:)
It really isn’t fair. :(
That sounds like a hard day, natalie. I’m sorry.