Saturday, November 29, 2014

Carefree Moments

I had time to think today.

 Somedays are so busy I don't have anytime  to think at all. I like it that way. When I have time to sit back and really think (like today), my mind drifts to moments. Moments that I can't go back to, but that I long for. Some that are sad to those on the outside of the world I live in. Like the last few minutes that I held my son, clutching his tiny body in my arms and kissing his face, with tears rolling down my face. That's the moment my heart broke, but it's also a time I miss. I miss feeling him in my arms. You wouldn't think 10 ounces was a lot until it's all you have and then it's everything. I poured all my love into him in the few hours I had with him. 

I have had very few carefree moments since that day. I actually can't think of any time when I have been completely care free since my water broke with him. 

2 years ago however we were in Disney World. Having a carefree vacation. Joking that this was the 3rd time I had been to Disney pregnant. We told Jason's family that weekend that we were expecting a boy.  We told our kids too. But kept it a secret for a few more days from everyone else when we had our party.

These carefree moments have been replaced by grief and nightmares. These aren't the nightmares of having someone chase after you or going to school necked. These are more memory related nightmares. Where your children are take. And you can't reach them. No matter what you do you can't get to them. Waking up from nightmares is normally a relief, but when you're living it waking up is as bad as the dream it self. 

It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that it's been 2 years. When you're in the moment you don't think about "how will this feelin two years?". But, two years later I can say It feels like my baby just died. I can feel his weight like bricks on my heart and I am drowning in pain. My head is underwater and I can get up, I'm screaming and no one can hear me.  

This part of grief gets better, or at least it comes and goes. So that most days I can breathe. Until it gets close. Closer to a time when I can remember 2 years ago today I ....... And he was here. 2 years ago I felt him moving around, saw him on the screen, heard his heart beating at 134 Bpm. 2 years ago he was alive. His life was growing, flourishing inside of me. Where all but 3 beautiful minutes of his life were spent. 

My mind drifts to my girls. The twins I dreamed of for years. The perfect babies that were to be my rainbows, but we're not actually meant to be. I always feel like I messed up with them somewhere. Like I was given this chance to have it all and I screwed up. But I can't seem to actually point to what I did wrong exactly. I miss them just as badly, but my life has already turned into a pile of grief before they were born, that it was somehow easier to get through the days. The fact that I had already begun to grieve them before they died was not lost on me. I hoped and prayed for them to survive, but I knew. Mothers usually do. Fathers too, Jason knew. I worried leaving the hospital still pregnant, that I would have one baby at home and traumatize my self and everyone else in our home. But I wanted to give them the chance at life so I did. Of course I made it back to the hospital to have them. Made it easier to not have them at home, easier to bond and then say goodbye. 

I don't know if I will ever truly have another carefree moment, or restful night sleep. I do know however that I will always think of them and what could have been. 

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