The day draws closer and I feel more and more despondent. Yes, I think that is a good word.
How else should one feel when you have to celebrate Mother's Day and the birthday of your angel baby, all within 3 days of each other?
I should be planning a party. Full of balloons and presents and sugary-frosted cake. I should be wrapping up new toys for a toddler boy who giggles and drools. I should be snapping pictures of a toddler boy that makes the diaper-waddle his own.
That's what life becomes. A whole lot of "I should be's......"
Instead I'll find my way to the cemetery.
I'll stand before the marker that they recently placed and I'll crumble.
The marker is lovely, but it's also so very final. The unadorned plot seemed hopeful, as if my flesh and blood wasn't really buried under all that mud. As if, maybe, just maybe, that barren slice of earth cradled another mother's angel babe.
A mother I could console instead of being the one that so desperately needs a word or two of comfort.
*sobs, sobs and more sobs*
I can't stop the tears. I can't stop them any more than I can stop the beating of my heart. They have become a part of me. My own personal rain cloud trying to flood the banks of my grief.
Everyone says grief is a process. You must weather each day and claim victory over the days that don't claim you first. As days go by, I realize my sorrow and to an even bigger extent, my anger, are directed at myself. At my body. At my DNA. That damn broken code that caused him to be sick in the first place.
And then there's the future. My future without any more babies. I haven't admitted it to many - but I can't have any more children. I know, I know. Another child doesn't replace the one that's gone. But when you didn't get to finish what one child started, I think it becomes a natural urge to fill the emptiness with another babe. Another hope of a life fulfilled. I see peeks of it in other Momma's blogs. Discreet postings of "We're pregnant!" Tempered with the sorrow that they wouldn't be having this baby, if they hadn't lost another beloved.
Some days it only fuels my despair. The emptiness and longing becomes palpable and it paralyzes me. Oh, my body moves, it washes dishes and picks up toys. It starts the laundry and makes sure everyone is fed.
It's my soul that feels locked.
Trapped within this automated shell, I am unable to move forward. Unable or unwilling, either way, grief is my warden. I receive no clemency.
So today I weep. I weep for what's been lost and what will never be. I weep with pain, anger and sorrow at the life that has been given to me. Entrusted to me, for sure. Although I find it difficult to be altruistic in thinking the burden I carry may prove beneficial in alleviating another mama's pain. I know in my heart that I am to turn this anguish into something good. That's not for today.
For now, I weep.
Some days I just can't be expected to do more.
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