This has been a hard week for me. I have wanted only to lie curled in bed, filled with sadness. I have done a pretty good job of carrying on with life despite the way I feel. My girls and I have done lots of beautiful nature walks, taking full advantage of this magnificent autumn weather we have right now. But I have carried my heavy sadness with me all week. Felt close to tears every day.
Tomorrow is October fourth. It was my due date for the baby I lost almost a year and a half ago. We would likely be celebrating his first birthday tomorrow, or sometime near the date. I have tried so hard to move past this sadness, to put it behind me and be over it. I think maybe I never will get to the point where I don't miss and want my little boy here with me. My arms and heart ache for him still, even as they are filled with my beautiful girls. I imagine what he would look like. He looked just like his big sister Penelope when he was born, so I picture him looking much like she did at 12 months. I imagine he would have had blond hair and blue eyes like his sisters. I know he would be beautiful.
I'm not always like this, this full of sadness over the absence of this baby. It's always there, but just now, when he should be turning a year old I find myself completely grief stricken over the loss of this child. I was well into the second trimester when I lost him. The second trimester is the happy one. The one where you feel good, no more morning sickness or excessive tiredness, and the baby isn't so big that you are uncomfortable always. You are well past the time when one worries about miscarriage. It does happen, but it is rare. And so he was a real baby to us. He was definitely going to be joining our family, we believed. I had bonded with him, spent hours talking to him, imagining him, loving him. It was not the same as an early miscarriage, which is heartbreaking in its own way. It was the loss of a child I loved and felt attached to.
The loss of this baby has been one of the loneliest things I've ever gone through. When people hear that you have suffered a miscarriage they don't know how to react. Most people ignore it, and the rest seem to assume it's something that one gets over with quickly and moves on. But for me this was huge. This was the loss of my son, whom I loved with all of my heart. He had a name, and a beautiful little face and a place here with us. I miss him terribly and I want him back. Every day. But tonight I long for him so badly it aches. I want to make him a birthday cake and sing to him with his daddy and sisters. When we are out on our nature walks I want to feel his sturdy body in the back carrier while I hold his sister's hands. I want to show him the changing leaves and see the blue sky reflected in his eyes. I miss him, so,so much. And nobody knows, and I'm all alone with it.
This evening I took my girls to the playground. Another mother came and sat beside me on the bench where I was knitting while my girls played with hers. Her girls, each a year older than mine. Dark eyes and hair and skin. So beautiful. She is from Pakistan and dresses in beautiful clothes from her country. Her English is hard to understand, but we chat frequently anyhow. We have had these broken little conversations for years, the same things I talk about with most mothers at the playground. Sometimes it takes several tries before one of us can get the other to understand something. She laughs easily and is pleasant company, I have always liked her. Tonight she asked me if I would have any more babies. I didn't want to answer the question, so I asked the same one back instead. No, she said. She has had three c-sections and the doctor told her a fourth would be dangerous for her. I thought she only had the two girls, I said to her. She had one before the two I know. She was born with something wrong, she died. "Oh, I'm so sorry" I said. "I lost one too. It likely would have been his first birthday tomorrow". "I'm sorry" she said, her eyes filling with tears. And we just sat there together, in tearful silence, watching our beautiful girls play. And for the first time since I lost my beautiful boy I didn't feel so alone with my sadness. Happy birthday my sweet baby Eamon. I will always love you.