8 months

dear sweet baby girl, the one who lived that is,

you are 8 months old today. and i can’t hold back the tears as i write this. i’m trying to write about you but i’m thinking about your big sister, the one who didn’t make it. i’ve been visiting some of the other deadbabymamas. i’m not sure why i go there. unfinished business maybe. i need to finish the story of her birth. and the aftermath. and the subsequent disaster. and the scattering of both of their ashes. with each part of the story that i tell, a little of the charge might be released.  with each detail recalled and recorded there is slightly less burden to lug around with me.  i guess.  that and since the memories are all i have, i’d like to keep them.

yeah that was a good letter. what the fuck? christ, i want to go upstairs and pick my warm baby up out of her crib and hold her. and cry.

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~ by complicatedmama on January 30, 2008.

5 Responses to “8 months”

  1. oh whatthef*ck, listen. having children didn’t make me not infertile. i was trolling infertility blogs up until my baby died (hello, my other kids “after” infertility were already 2.5 and i was hugely pregnant on my own), and it only slowed down because i had a dead baby and now have to read about THAT.

    i have come to the conclusion that my reproductive self is destroyed forever, and nothing and no one will change that. i AM, however, a mother (to alive and dead babies), and i can have some joy in that, but MY reproductive self, as a woman, will never be whole again. we can take alot of the “charge” out of it by doing things that help us to accept it, maybe come to a peace about the reality of it, but it will never go away. our business is never finished, but, maybe, we can get into the black?

  2. (of course i’m full of shit but i’m coming out of a really dark month and i’m taking the peace when and how i can get it, you know?)

  3. *hugs*

  4. There’s so much I want to say, yet…the words escape me.

    Just know that I’m thinking about you and crying with you.

  5. Oh, hon. You tried. I can’t imagine the live baby after a dead baby not carrying the brunt of all this emotion in some way. But, oh my god, she must bring you so much joy in all this heartache. Thinking of you. XO.

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