When someone you love leaves your life, you are left with a long series of little goodbyes.
Today I set out the formula that I had accumulated as backup for Perry and am shipping it off to my SIL. It expires next September. I can see how people become hoarders, because it is not fair that I have to get rid of it. At the same time you have to let go of the pain to make room for more blessings in my life.
I am arranging for another drop off of stored milk to be hopefully used by a milkbank for premature babies, but even this is not so simple, because some banks do not accept milk from a Mom with a deceased infant. This is just one more way society whispers I could have killed my baby, although I am sure and remind myself that through this particular gift of love I made his short life better with less sniffles and sickness. We never had to take Perry to the Pediatrician for anything other than a well child check up. Sort of sad and ironic. But this was something that was meant only for him... As nice as it is that maybe I can help another baby thrive.
I am trying to prepare myself to say goodbye to his pumpkin.This would have been so easy to do had he been here, but is oddly, incredibly tough.
But here they are. The little reminders he is gone.
Slowly, I am trying to find ways of replacing these transient things with other meaningful objects. I made a book with many of his photos, and a small silver charm bracelet with pictures of my Daughter and my Son. I do not want to say Goodbye to him. I just want to say "Until we meet again...". This is easy and hard to do, within the same breath.
I hope that it helps to talk here. The other day as I read your "hard read" Dreading, I thought how glad I was that you write "out loud". I write to myself. We also can relate to "Dreading". You may not realize this, but you are letting others know that after burying your child, you don't get to just go back home and pick up where you left off. You don't get to say, "OK, what's next?" like nothing ever happened.
ReplyDeleteWe still have a couple of packages of diaper wipes left from the over 5,000 we received before Grace was born...a huge gift Bob received after helping out with the Flood Relief of 2010. The 2,000 diapers were removed from our home the next day to be given to friends and family that could use them. Seeing those wipes continues to remind me of the life I imagined sharing with another child. I wish that I could tell you that the triggers will magically disappear as time goes on.
"Until we meet again..." I like those words. The day after Grace died, Bob wrote a poem about her and it includes those words.
Oh how we miss them...