If you don't yet follow this blog, you should. I've read Nella's birth story a hundred times. I have different emotions every time I read it. Most of the time it's "I know just how you feel" tears. Tonight, though, it hit hard. Floods of memories I didn't know I had crash in like tsunami waves. It hurts.
I didn't want to be alone that night. I didn't want to grieve by myself. I wanted somebody to share emotions with me - excited, sad, confused; any emotion at all would have sufficed. I don't blame anybody. I just wish it had been different than it was. Hiding my face from the reflection in the TV screen. Wanting so badly for the pain to go away; physical and emotional. Wishing I could clutch something other than my pillow. I wanted to hold my baby. I wanted to look in his eyes and pretend stereotypes didn't exist. I just wanted to rewind and start over.
When morning came, I did just that. I held my baby. I wanted so badly to feel something. I loved him; I knew that. But I needed the numbness to go away. I needed to feel it. It would be weeks before I would. It would be weeks before I worked up the nerve to tell somebody I needed them to rescue me.
I've learned to be independent with Micah being gone. Most of the time that's a good thing to be. That time... that time it wasn't. There was one night in particular I remember vividly. Ben slept peacefully in his pack n play next to me. Roxy curled up at the foot of the bed and stared at my like she knew exactly what I was thinking. God and I got to know each other inside and out. I cried out to Him like I never had before. I screamed at Him in anger and swore this cross was just too much for me to bare. I laid in the darkness and clutched the same pillow I hated just a few weeks earlier. I wept. The kind of crying that leaves you breathless; every fiber of your being stiffens like a 2x4.
I'm not writing this for sympathy. I'm writing because it's hard to believe how far we've come. Benjamin will be 10 months old next week. 10 months. Some days I forget that he wore preemie clothes when we brought him home or the size comparison to his daddy's Monster can.
I don't want to forget. However painful the memories may be; however emotional the weeks after; however long it took to swim out of that rip current. I want to remember every detail. I want to scribble it down before I have to share the pen with something else.
I want to remember it all so I never forget how to thank God for the blessing that is....
my reason for living.
You gotta get through the storm to appreciate the rainbow.
Best freaking rainbow. Ever.