There are these moments that I can't imagine will ever escape me.
The moment of panic.
The moment I saw my son for the first time.
The moment they said, "There's only so much we can do."
The moment I touched him.
The moment I thought I was going to die.
The moment he died.
They revolve in my head almost constantly - a merry-go-round of beauty and suffering.
2 comments:
What a truly honest way to put that, "beauty and suffering." I am constantly haunted by the feeling of my water breaking. For most women, it's an amazing sensation because they know it precedes labor and that their baby will be joining them soon. For me, I knew that my water breaking meant Claire was going to die and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Time all at once slammed to a stop and sped up faster than a bullet. My labor with her was beautiful- I'll always cherish that enormous feeling of love that filled me the moment she was fully born. But it's followed by then watching her die in my arms. Our lives with our children are full of so many emotions that are constantly at odds with one another.
I have those moments too. The moment my doctor gave up looking for Jacob's heartbeat with the doppler, the moment the ultrasound started and I saw him curled in a ball instead of kicking away like he always did in the past, the moment of holding him for the first time, rocking him, kissing him. The moment of giving him to the nurse for the last time and knowing I would never see him again. The many, many times I thought I couldn't survive the pain and just wanted to be with him again.
I also love what you wrote - a merry go round of beauty and pain. That is exactly what it is.
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