It keeps coming to my mind with such intensity...you knew you would be here. I did. I knew. I saw myself right here, as I am...a grieving mother. I played it over and over in my mind so many times. The exact scenarios.... How would I react when I heard the news? How would I sleep again without him next to me? How would I...? When my parent's walked in that day, and told me he was gone... it was like deja vu. The time had finally come.
I think while he was here, I just chalked it off to being a mother. It's every mother's worst fear...losing their child. Looking back, I knew then it was more than just a first time mother's worry, I just wasn't willing to admit it. Despite the fact that it was in my mind more than daily, I didn't speak of it to anyone, except Abe.
I begged him not to leave me one morning. I will never forget it.
I woke with the feeling that I now have every morning. I fail miserably at putting it into words but it's that feeling of weight...sorrow that debilitates you. I cried as I nursed him. He nursed longer than usual and I soaked up every moment. I watched him intently and he watched me back. I wasn't in my usual rush to get going and get out the door. We spent extra time playing in bed. I stood him up on my lap to admire his chubby, adorable legs. We stared at each other for the longest time. Without a thought, I started into my plea...my plea to him to stay with me. I truly did beg him not to leave. As I cried, he just stared back at me with those deep, intense eyes. No smile, no whimper..he just stared and then nuzzled into my neck like he was trying to eat me.
As I look back at what I imagined then, I have exceeded my expectations in some ways and am deeply disappointed in others. I have survived. I never imagined that I would survive losing my boy, but I have...I am breathing. I have not yet learned to live without him and be able to recognize joy and hope at the same time. I can't recognize it yet, let alone experience it. It makes sense that it's possible, but it does feel impossible to me right now. I know it's where I need to be, but can't seem to get there. I admittedly am having a very hard time owning my pain.
I am feeling the pressure of others needing me to get there. I'm so unbelievably pissed off that I was right. I'm scared that my present worries are more potential devastations. I'm trying fiercely to reject the feeling that my life with Abram really was my only chance at fulfillment and I just couldn't hold onto it. I'm frustrated that I feel so inadequate at my attempts to reconcile my life. I'm just sick and tired of it all.
I think while he was here, I just chalked it off to being a mother. It's every mother's worst fear...losing their child. Looking back, I knew then it was more than just a first time mother's worry, I just wasn't willing to admit it. Despite the fact that it was in my mind more than daily, I didn't speak of it to anyone, except Abe.
I begged him not to leave me one morning. I will never forget it.
I woke with the feeling that I now have every morning. I fail miserably at putting it into words but it's that feeling of weight...sorrow that debilitates you. I cried as I nursed him. He nursed longer than usual and I soaked up every moment. I watched him intently and he watched me back. I wasn't in my usual rush to get going and get out the door. We spent extra time playing in bed. I stood him up on my lap to admire his chubby, adorable legs. We stared at each other for the longest time. Without a thought, I started into my plea...my plea to him to stay with me. I truly did beg him not to leave. As I cried, he just stared back at me with those deep, intense eyes. No smile, no whimper..he just stared and then nuzzled into my neck like he was trying to eat me.
As I look back at what I imagined then, I have exceeded my expectations in some ways and am deeply disappointed in others. I have survived. I never imagined that I would survive losing my boy, but I have...I am breathing. I have not yet learned to live without him and be able to recognize joy and hope at the same time. I can't recognize it yet, let alone experience it. It makes sense that it's possible, but it does feel impossible to me right now. I know it's where I need to be, but can't seem to get there. I admittedly am having a very hard time owning my pain.
I am feeling the pressure of others needing me to get there. I'm so unbelievably pissed off that I was right. I'm scared that my present worries are more potential devastations. I'm trying fiercely to reject the feeling that my life with Abram really was my only chance at fulfillment and I just couldn't hold onto it. I'm frustrated that I feel so inadequate at my attempts to reconcile my life. I'm just sick and tired of it all.
