Blllehhhh

I'm happy for you. Of course I'm happy for you. I, of all people in your life today realize how important this is to you. I understand how monumental just the CONCEPT of this is for you. I've watched you wait, I've watched you want, I've watched you cry. There was a part of me that thought this would never happen for you. And so...in my own way, I have done all I can to fill that gap. To help you heal, and keep that whole from being open, and gaping. I've tried my hardest to give you what you were lacking, never thinking, despite how much we hoped, that what you were missing would come back. It did though. And yes, I'm happy for you. On the other hand, though, I'm apprehensive. For you, for myself. I fear you'll get hurt...and what will i do if this hurts you? How will I behave if once again your heart is broken? I'll behave like I always do. I'll quietly, dilligently, collect the pieces, and do my best to put them back together. I'll hold your heart in my hands carefully, in the way that only I can, and I'll take care of you. I always do that. I fear I'll get hurt. I'm scared of the part of me that already is. This is huge for you, and I know that. But...where does that leave me? Is this jealousy I feel? Tension? A territorial feeling that stirs and makes me want to jump in front of you and keep you to myself. I know I can't. It's a petty feeling. And I know that. This is why I type it here, cryptically, knowing that you know me well enough to figure me out, but hoping you never do. I let it all out here...because telling you how I fell would mean admitting that I feel it. It would mean admitting that while I'm happy for you, and I love nothing more than to see you smile, I hate it. Those are my smiles. My laughs. Excitement for me. The one who is, but isn't really. In the long run, in the grand scheme, I worry where I'll be. Where I used to be all you needed, am I still? I hate myself for feeling this way, for not being able to control it. For the rogue tears that stain my cheeks, and the tell-tale breathing that keeps me grounded in the now. I close my eyes, and take a deep breath, and tell myself it's all going to be okay. When we've had nothing else, we've always had each other. And nothing can change that...can it?

The Rainbow After The Rain

It's been awhile since I've blogged, to be honest, things have been busy, and hectic, and there just hasn't been time. Last night though, for the first time in a long time, I felt something that compelled me to write, something that moved me to words. I'll share it with you now, if you like.

    Last night, I was holding Owen in my arms, in the darkness of our room in the late night hours. He'd woken up feeling terrible, with the same cough and congestion that he's had all week long. I turned the light on, got his bottle, and held him close to me. Putting the bottle in his mouth, i began to sing to him, the same church songs I always sing to him, they relax him in a different way. As i began singing to him, a smile spread over his face, and his big eyes opened. There, staring at me, were the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen in your life. It was a magical feeling. I got lost in those eyes for a few minutes. Thinking how truly amazing they were. They were my eyes, a trait he'd gotten from me. So familiar as I looked into them, i could see myself, i could see that he was mine. It occurred to me, not for the first time, that i'd never seen a red head with brown eyes, and i realized again that I liked that. How unique my baby would be, and how lucky to have a quality as amazing as it is. 

     Staring at him though, I began to feel other feelings. As you all know, now, there is only one picture of my baby Bella that I have after she was born. I can't go back and change that, although I wish so much that i could. There is nothing about the picture to give me any idea what she'd look like today, all it is is a picture of her tiny hand. I'll be forever grateful to that doctor for having the soundness of mind to take at least one. What I thought about though, was if my sweet girl would look like Owen does. Would she have those same big brown eyes, that seem to look into your soul? Would she have had that fire red hair like he does, a true sign that she was her father's daughter? I wonder if she'd have had dimples like his, or that smile that's contagious. Gosh, I love his smile. I wonder so many things about her. 

   Having a rainbow baby is really a daunting task. While you are so grateful for everything he is, everything he's doing, that he gets to do, that he's still here, and breathing....there's always this nagging in the back of your head about what should have been, what could have been. I read a question at one point that said: "You are given two choices: Move on with your life with no regret, or go back in time, knowing everything you know now, and save your baby. Which would you choose?" This question is one that fills my mind regularly, and yet...my answer is still the same. The initial reaction was to say that I'd go back in time and save Bella. I'd give anything to hold her. Further thought into the question, however...leads me to this: If i HAD saved Bella, if...by some miracle, she had survived all our problems, there would be no Owen. And...am I willing to give up that smile that warms my heart, and those big brown eyes that make me fall so deeply in love with him that it actually hurts? How do you make the decision to trade one child for the other? Could you? That'd be almost like telling me I could have Bella back if  I was willing to give up Jason. As much as I'd love to know her, to hold her, and kiss her, and sing to her, I'm not sure it's worth what I would lose. Is that wrong? Does it make sense? Being a bereaved parent surely is hard work. 

     The year is already half over, which means we are coming up rather quickly on her 3rd birthday. I have a lot of ideas about this one. So much I want to do. My biggest hope is to have for her a headstone. Tucked under a shady tree, a place where I can go...somewhere that's ours. I think she'd like that. A letter inside a balloon, to tell her how much I love her, and send it to the heavens. Bubbles from her brothers, with her newest little brother a part of it this time. She is his guardian, I know that. I don't believe I'd have made it through my pregnancy without her. And those fruity pebble cupcakes. The trademark of my little pebbles, my beautiful baby Bells. Someday all of this will make sense I hope. I wonder if she will always come to my mind in these ways. If my thoughts of her will always hurt, if I'll ever really understand them. Sometimes I think, probably not.