Tuesday, November 9, 2010

The Park

Twenty one days ago. These pictures are only twenty one days old. I was pushing both kids in the swing at the same time when I took this picture. I remember thinking, life doesn't get any better than this. This is what I always wanted. It was a nice day, the kids and I had been out running errands and stopped to play at the park. When we were going through fertility treatments, I would look at moms with their babies at the park in the middle of the day, so happy, and I hated them. I wanted so badly to be them.
Twenty one days ago, I looked around at those moms and thought for the first time- I was one of them. I was a mom that was lucky enough to be at the park with her babies in the middle of day during the work week. There couldn't be anything better.
Today, the weather was unbelievable- thanks Elle. But I knew it meant I had to go back. Max deserved it- he's been through a lot the last couple weeks, was stir crazy and it wasn't fair to him to stay at home. By the time we were pulling out of the driveway, my chest was tight. By the time we got to the first big intersection, I thought my lungs were shrinking. Half way there, I thought my throat was starting to close. All the noises around me started to seem faraway. My hands shook when I unhooked Max from the car seat. 
I knew it was there. The slide that she liked me to slide her down and then let her sit and play at the bottom. The swing where she sat next to Max. And I looked at those things. But I don't think I saw them. 

My friend asked me today how I am getting up each day- like how I literally sit up and put my feet on the floor and propel myself down the stairs...
I don't know...
The human body is an incredible thing. The nurse in me, says this is shock. My body has taken over. My mind, my heart, have no say right now. I can get up, take Max to the park, plant tulips at the cemetery so they will bloom for Ellie in the spring, go to lunch and hang out with my family. I can have conversations and get Max into pjs. But I feel like I have no control over it. Max needs some sort of mother...
My mind- I'm not really sure where it went. I have no attention span and poor short term memory. My heart- I don't know where that went either. The last few days I feel like I have a hard time thinking about Ellie. I am having a hard time picturing her face, her hands, her feet and goofy smile. All I get is flashes. Flashes of her- that is all I have right now. When I look at pictures or videos of her, I have a hard time concentrating on them. Its like my mind doesn't want to think about her. Its avoiding her. My heart though, it wants her back. Anything, any part of her.
My chest feels tight all the time. Its always hard to breathe. If I didn't know better, I'd think I was drowning. Its strange how heavy and weighed down you can feel, yet so empty.
Empty. Empty highchair, empty car seat, empty crib, empty bouncy seat, empty clothes hamper, empty arms. Empty.
Mercifully, there were no babies at the park today. A pregnant mom stood next to me while our boys ran across the bridge and made small talk. She rubbed her belly and mentioned that it was going to her third baby. I thought- I used to have a baby- twenty one days ago, I had a baby too. She was beautiful and if she was here, like she was twenty one days ago, you would smile at her and mention how cute she was... Pretty soon her son ran off and that mom moved to the other side of the park with the rest of them. I found myself staring at them and once again, hating them. Those happy moms that take their happy, healthy, alive babies to the park in the middle of the day.

Ellie~ I just want you back peanut. Mama just wants you back.


Anonymous said...

Thank you for keeping up with the writing. Your heart is directly connected to the words you write. So beautiful this gift to all of us and to your daughters legacy. God bless you, and I pray that He will fill the empty places.

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