Monday, July 19, 2010

again, again

So, once again I've gone to the library and checked out EVERY book on child loss. Again.

From Still to be Born, If your mother dies people don't say 'you can always have another mother.' Then why is it all right to say you can always have another baby if your baby dies?

It's true. So many times people (most that I don't know well at all) hug me up and whisper into my ear that I'll have another baby, or that 'my turn is coming.' I don't know where they are getting their information. I want to ask to see their credentials, has God whispered to them something that I don't know yet?? I've had two 'turns' and neither baby got to stay. What ..... So, I'm skeptical of these overly perfumed, squishy women who hug and whisper things they most likely know nothing about. I'm sure that the majority don't know of my Rowan. They have heard that Levi passed away after he was born, but they have no knowledge of my sweet Rowan. My first child who departed far, far too soon. Another baby. Sigh.

From An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination, My grief was still fresh, grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving...

Again, so true. So quickly people all around you want you to be feeling better, to get over the sadness and move on. To 'talk about anything else'. I don't want to talk about anything else. The less I talk about Levi or Rowan the farther away they seem. If I can talk about them they feel close, they feel connected to me. Today (near midnight) will be 3 weeks since I birthed my son, Levi, and tomorrow around one a.m. will be 3 weeks since he died.

I could cry a million tears. I feel so foolish for every other time I've ever cried (except for Rowan's time). Like I should have saved up all my tears for these times of great sadness. The pain is overwhelming. Knowing I'll never laugh at their silly faces, or get frustrated when they whine...I'll never be proud of some game they win, or meet the girl they want to marry, or hold their children close... When a child dies so do all the hopes and dreams that came along with their little life. The hope of holding them close and snuggling deep into the night. The dreams of what they will become, who they will know and love. I miss my babies...their loss touches every part of my life.


Nicole said...

I know you don't need my input, and I hesitate to say anything, cause I know how little words help, that in fact, they often stab more than comfort. I know that I do not "know" you, but I check your journal every day. I am praying for you. And I am listening...for as long as you need. I wish I could hug you and just sit silent in the mourning booth with you because my heart aches so much for you.

Grieve, Amanda...pour it all out...for as long as it takes. Those who know you well understand, and even some of us who don't know you other than through your words. We understand, we love you, and we're here.

Your friend and sister in Christ,

Marie W said...

Sending hugs your way. This journey is never easy, but please know that we are here carrying this burden of grief with you and lifting you up in prayer.