Giving Thought
I see I haven't been here in almost a year. I think there have definitely been times it would have been appropriate. Abe was in Alaska for 9 weeks, I had the ultrasound for #4, Ezra's birthday and memorial. Well, I'm here now.
I find myself avoiding my emotions as I remember Ezra every day. I'll admit, it's less harsh. I can remember him sometimes, know that not having him here with us is our life, and in some ways be able to accept that, but the last couple of days it's becoming unbearable and so I feel like I need to pay attention to it. I know what has me bothered....several things and I'm trying to make sense of each of them, or at least give them some thought and tears if necessary.
Obviously the pregnancy has been a huge mental/emotional hurdle in life after Ezra. There is a certain amount of fear for the unknown, which I think every mom faces with every baby, but mine has flesh and I know a brokenness that is haunting. So I try and turn my thoughts for this baby in a direction that is positive, it's fairly easy. No mother likes to stay in the place where she imagines life without her child, so I quickly pull my thoughts together and visualize vitality, but part of me wants to stay there, where there is a baby that died, that needs to be mourned and missed. By experiencing life again are we leaving something so precious behind, the mysterious beauty of death that makes life so much more intense and sensational? Can we do this? Hold a newborn and all the intensity of love for the new addition of family again and seperate these to dichotimic experiences. I fear it will be a constant mental olympics for me to keep the two seperate where necessary and let them come crashing together when right, into the flow of our life story. I think until now I've done a fairly spotty job of looking ahead. It's good and bad. It's probably spared me some depressing days but in preperation I should try and go there. If it all catches me off guard I will be a terrible mess, unhealthy.
I day dream about the baby coming, and I want Ezra to be there with us. For my arms to be full of four kids. This is the most significant moment our family will experience since his death. I look at the pictures of the day he came into our lives, in Homer, and I see my arms wrapped around all three of them, so complete. It makes me not want pictures in the hospital this time because I could honestly see myself screaming that there is supposed to be FOUR! Don't take the picture! Where is Ezra? Get him! Get Him before we take the picture. He would need help climbing up on the bed to see the baby, and he might not quite understand, or be jealous of Mommy the same way Josiah was when he was born. There is a part of me that really doesn't want to do this when I think about him not being there with us. I believe he is, don't get me wrong. I understand better than anyone his spiritual presence in our lives, but sometimes it's just not enough. I miss him and all the things he is missing here with us.
Abe has said from the beginning the baby is a girl. I'm not so convinced. I think it's because I want to be. We didn't have much of an agreement about the ultrasound when Abe left for Alaska. He really didn't want me to find out the sex of the baby. I wanted to know, but really didn't at the same time. I didn't realize this until I was at the ultrasound. I told the tech we were not going to find out. At the end I made the mistake of asking if she knew. "I usually try not to see when the parents don't want to know, but I saw." I thought to myself, well then it's a boy, cause it would be easier to see a penis on accident, right? WHO KNOWS?! But I was immediately aware of my fear to have another boy. To hold him on my left side and not mix these mental images I've played over in my mind for two years of a dead baby laying in the same arms, and the anxiety. Seeing blue blankets and just wanting to take a peek and see that Ezra is there, and this has all been the fucking nightmare that I COULD wake up from. Only someone else in my shoes would understand, but when Ezra died I could almost not even physically stop telling people "I want him back." It's like you're in this delirium that says if you say it one more time, all this weight and pain will be instantly gone. As the days pass you convince yourself of the reality and this numbness sets in and becomes comfort. I dread that a new little boy in my life might send my brain tripping back into that desperate mental state that I feel I'm just finally escaping. Forgive me, it's just what it is. I don't doubt that I will be able to love and cherish this new little one, being a boy, it's just really complicated. I feel almost like God would give us a boy, and it would be more challenging, but just like each milestone along the way also more rewarding. If the baby is a girl, it will spare me some mental distress, but ultimately I will come to the same place of healing that we know is a part of this baby coming.
And possibly the situation that reminds me the most that Ezra is not here, is my precious little nephew, Jack, who was born the same year as my little boy. Just today we were at the coffee shop with him and my neice Paisley who is their age, and I can see it, call me crazy, but Ezra there with them, toddling around and starting to talk, sometimes almost so vividly that I would not be surprised if I said his name out loud. They are such wonderful little ones. Jack's personality reminds me so much of my brother, and he's so animated and funny. I'm greatful for the glimpses of what life with Ezra would be like, but at the same time I have to mourn those moments because they aren't happening. With Jack around especially I imagine my life with a 2 year old; getting in and out of the car, preparing three plates instead of 2, a crowded bathtub. I can feel it, it's easy and it's these thoughts that remind me that suffering was never meant to be, that people in all of history have been walking these paths before me, and that some day it will all come together.
I'm done... I can only do this for so long. It makes my stomach hurt to think so hard. I obviously need to do this a little more before the baby comes. I have much to think through.
I find myself avoiding my emotions as I remember Ezra every day. I'll admit, it's less harsh. I can remember him sometimes, know that not having him here with us is our life, and in some ways be able to accept that, but the last couple of days it's becoming unbearable and so I feel like I need to pay attention to it. I know what has me bothered....several things and I'm trying to make sense of each of them, or at least give them some thought and tears if necessary.
Obviously the pregnancy has been a huge mental/emotional hurdle in life after Ezra. There is a certain amount of fear for the unknown, which I think every mom faces with every baby, but mine has flesh and I know a brokenness that is haunting. So I try and turn my thoughts for this baby in a direction that is positive, it's fairly easy. No mother likes to stay in the place where she imagines life without her child, so I quickly pull my thoughts together and visualize vitality, but part of me wants to stay there, where there is a baby that died, that needs to be mourned and missed. By experiencing life again are we leaving something so precious behind, the mysterious beauty of death that makes life so much more intense and sensational? Can we do this? Hold a newborn and all the intensity of love for the new addition of family again and seperate these to dichotimic experiences. I fear it will be a constant mental olympics for me to keep the two seperate where necessary and let them come crashing together when right, into the flow of our life story. I think until now I've done a fairly spotty job of looking ahead. It's good and bad. It's probably spared me some depressing days but in preperation I should try and go there. If it all catches me off guard I will be a terrible mess, unhealthy.
I day dream about the baby coming, and I want Ezra to be there with us. For my arms to be full of four kids. This is the most significant moment our family will experience since his death. I look at the pictures of the day he came into our lives, in Homer, and I see my arms wrapped around all three of them, so complete. It makes me not want pictures in the hospital this time because I could honestly see myself screaming that there is supposed to be FOUR! Don't take the picture! Where is Ezra? Get him! Get Him before we take the picture. He would need help climbing up on the bed to see the baby, and he might not quite understand, or be jealous of Mommy the same way Josiah was when he was born. There is a part of me that really doesn't want to do this when I think about him not being there with us. I believe he is, don't get me wrong. I understand better than anyone his spiritual presence in our lives, but sometimes it's just not enough. I miss him and all the things he is missing here with us.
Abe has said from the beginning the baby is a girl. I'm not so convinced. I think it's because I want to be. We didn't have much of an agreement about the ultrasound when Abe left for Alaska. He really didn't want me to find out the sex of the baby. I wanted to know, but really didn't at the same time. I didn't realize this until I was at the ultrasound. I told the tech we were not going to find out. At the end I made the mistake of asking if she knew. "I usually try not to see when the parents don't want to know, but I saw." I thought to myself, well then it's a boy, cause it would be easier to see a penis on accident, right? WHO KNOWS?! But I was immediately aware of my fear to have another boy. To hold him on my left side and not mix these mental images I've played over in my mind for two years of a dead baby laying in the same arms, and the anxiety. Seeing blue blankets and just wanting to take a peek and see that Ezra is there, and this has all been the fucking nightmare that I COULD wake up from. Only someone else in my shoes would understand, but when Ezra died I could almost not even physically stop telling people "I want him back." It's like you're in this delirium that says if you say it one more time, all this weight and pain will be instantly gone. As the days pass you convince yourself of the reality and this numbness sets in and becomes comfort. I dread that a new little boy in my life might send my brain tripping back into that desperate mental state that I feel I'm just finally escaping. Forgive me, it's just what it is. I don't doubt that I will be able to love and cherish this new little one, being a boy, it's just really complicated. I feel almost like God would give us a boy, and it would be more challenging, but just like each milestone along the way also more rewarding. If the baby is a girl, it will spare me some mental distress, but ultimately I will come to the same place of healing that we know is a part of this baby coming.
And possibly the situation that reminds me the most that Ezra is not here, is my precious little nephew, Jack, who was born the same year as my little boy. Just today we were at the coffee shop with him and my neice Paisley who is their age, and I can see it, call me crazy, but Ezra there with them, toddling around and starting to talk, sometimes almost so vividly that I would not be surprised if I said his name out loud. They are such wonderful little ones. Jack's personality reminds me so much of my brother, and he's so animated and funny. I'm greatful for the glimpses of what life with Ezra would be like, but at the same time I have to mourn those moments because they aren't happening. With Jack around especially I imagine my life with a 2 year old; getting in and out of the car, preparing three plates instead of 2, a crowded bathtub. I can feel it, it's easy and it's these thoughts that remind me that suffering was never meant to be, that people in all of history have been walking these paths before me, and that some day it will all come together.
I'm done... I can only do this for so long. It makes my stomach hurt to think so hard. I obviously need to do this a little more before the baby comes. I have much to think through.
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