Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Hawk in the Tree

Tomorrow is November 17th, 2013. It will be 6 months exactly since we met you, held you, and said goodbye to you. The only photos of us together as a family.....

I sit here typing to you Carter, and i wish i knew if you knew what i was writing to you. I see pictures of my cousins baby who was born just a few days before you were supposed to be. I watch her growing into her features and see traits of her mom peeking out. I need you so much Carter, and no matter how many times i say it, it doesn't get any less true. I look at my photo of you next to my computer, i see you as if you were sleeping instead of you, being my lifeless baby boy. A baby who never took a breath. My perfect little man, so red and looking like any second you could take a breath. I hold onto to the few memories of you because they are all i will ever have of you.

Yesterday I ran through the mall chasing my friend's son Mateo. He is almost five and already seems so old. For a fleeting second as i chased him, I could imagine that I was chasing you. You running with your little legs carrying you so fast. The sound of your laughter as it carried down the hallway. The look on your face when I finally caught you and brought your face up to mine. That was when the glimpse was gone, and I saw his face, and not yours. I am glad for these glimpses of how life could be, but they also make life just that much more difficult to face. 

I tried to find a movie to watch today Carter.... Every single one i chose mentioned the loss of a child, or trying to get pregnant. Eventually i turned them off, and turned to a cartoon. Something I would have enjoyed watching with you. 

I can still feel the way your skin felt when I held you. I sometimes wish I could have bathed you, like I read some parents do before they say goodbye to their child. You were so delicate, and your skin was flaking off near the end. It felt as if you were going to turn to ash, and blow away before you ever met the fire. 

More often then not Carter, I find myself in a place where I wish i would have joined you. We could have been two souls carried off together, forging a new path as Mother and Son. But I wouldn't join you now Carter, as much as I would love to, I think i would end up in a place where the deserters go. Whereas you must be in the place where families meet, and dreams continue. 

I feel like I am losing not only me Carter, but your dad too. He goes to a dark place every day, and I worry that one day he won't return. Our relationship is different as i knew it would be. I just don't know if i will be able to reconnect again. I feel like a failure for not getting pregnant. It is as if every ones hope rests on my ability to conceive. 

I wish i could just get on a raft and float away into the sea with all my worries, and sadness floating away with them. 

Your dad saw a giant hawk fly into the tree behind our house. We were in the car cleaning and your dad stopped me talking to point it out. I was discussing increased hours as work when it flew into the tree. Your dad said it was some kind of sign..... 

I want to hold you, touch you, smell you, hear you, and know that you are just a room away waiting to be held, fed, or cuddled..... 

I have to believe that you are with us Carter......... 

Somewhere.... out there....... 

1 comment:

  1. I'm so sorry for your loss. Please visit my page.

    Caleb was only 22 weeks gestation when he was born into heaven.