Sunday, September 13, 2009

Sunday, and you've been gone so long...

Child of my heart. Flesh of my flesh. It has been so long since I felt you. If only other people had felt you...had felt your strong kicks--your stretches and wiggles and flip-flops and hiccups. You were so full of life and I miss it every day. I've heard of phantom kicks...after a loss like this, some moms have times when they think they feel kicks or movement. I've never had that. You were so big and strong and busy...there is no mistaking---not even for a second--that you are gone. I saw a young mother holding her little boy at church last week. This baby is a little older than you would be right now. And he was clinging to his mommy with complete devotion....nestling close to her chest and holding her as tightly as he could. And I was so envious of that...because I know you were so strong--you would've been holding me that tightly. Maybe tighter. And I would feel so loved by you, little Will. So needed. And it feels selfish to admit that--that I am sad because I didn't get to feel loved and needed by you in that way.
Maybe I feel that way because I feel so pointless without you here sometimes. I have all of the instincts of a mom with a new baby...I want to be overwhelmed by the business of you--that's my job. But I'm so pitifully idle. No gear to tote. No schedule to follow and fret over. No baby messes to clean. No nursery to tidy. No diapers to take out. No cries to soothe. No you to coo over and discover and delight in.
And it's five minutes since you left me. And it's a million years, too.
I have to remind myself that you avoided the pain and difficulty of earthly life. That you live in perfect joy and happiness and that is all you'll ever know....
But I hope you remember that you lived in me for 9 special months. I hope you can understand that--because you are so very very special to me, my love. King David was so right...I will go to you, but you will not return to me. Some days I love that verse. And some days I hate it (the human part of me hates it quite often). Child of my heart. Flesh of my flesh. Please remember me.