Welcome to Saturday’s Share -Reflections and impressions inspired by and celebrating images from daily life.
I’m trying something a little different, this week…I’m participating in Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the title for the rules….
Today’s prompt was to begin with a verb. I chose “Being“ – one of my favorites, because so many people seem so interested in “Doing.”
Warning: This post may contain emotional triggers for some.
Being the mother of a child who died is never far from my mind. Two thriving children notwithstanding; at times like Mother’s Day, there are not enough hugs, and never enough years, to erase the indelible fact that there is another child who will never hug me, whose voice I will never hear, whom I never had the chance to know.
His life was cut off at twelve days, but whatever would have made him unique was already gone, leaving a newborn shell.
He was bigger than all the other babies in the NICU. Too big for an isolette; no need for an incubator for our full-term son. He was big and robust- and his brain was damaged beyond repair by the process of being borne from my body.
I watch his brother and sister grow, and I do what I can to fill their lives with love and joy. He would be almost eleven now, and he’d be closing in on my height. He would have, as they do, his own preferences, talents, aversions, and quirks. He might, as they do, remind me sometimes of myself, sometimes of my husband, sometimes of other family members…
And he would always be himself….
Except that he isn’t, because he’s not here. He’s been gone for many more days than he was alive-
And I still miss him. Even with all the joy and love in my life, I miss him. Who he might have been, the moments we would have had. His voice, his face that never grew old enough to smile, that spent most of those twelve days in a coma.
Tomorrow, I will revel in the love and sunshine brought by my living, loving, happy children…and, in the shadowed places of my soul, I will mourn the one who isn’t here – but always is, in my soul.
What does Mother’s Day mean to you? IIs it a day you anticipate, or, like me, do you feel a hint of dread as the day approaches? Do you have plans? Traditions? A desire to hide out for the day?
I’d love to hear what’s on your minds -after all, Saturdays are for sharing!