They showed us a lot of containers, a dozen maybe, or maybe two dozen, but only two were sized for you. I remember that the others were made of wood and metal and stone and ceramic. Nothing specific. They all flashed by too fast to leave a mark, anything clear at least. Just underexposed, shapeless ghosts against the burned-in background of the display wall. They showed us all of the containers even though they knew we only needed to see the small ones.
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As a teenager, I hated algebra.
I could never wrap my head around the equations,
And the worst part was when I had to
Solve for x.
I am in disbelief.
Do we really have to do this, every year, for the rest of our lives? And then do it all over again, with each holiday that comes up, with each milestone she was robbed of, with each breath she didn't get to take? And again and again, every day, for all of eternity...?
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Parenting your dead child is like painting by numbers but there are no numbers to paint by. All the rules and directions have been lost. How does one know what color comes next? What is the image we are trying to complete when the baby we grew, died? We are left guessing. What would their favorite color be? Is purple supposed to fill in this space? What about green?
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I scream at a hospital bill for naught.
I scream at your big brother for things that aren’t his fault.
I scream “I’m fine” at all the well-intentioned questions.
I miss the ten days I felt like a mom. I miss people calling me mom, mama, mommy when they spoke to me about him. I am still his mommy but does the world see that?
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
: for one and all
: ttc | pregnancy | birth after loss
: not ttc | infertility after loss
: parenting after loss
: on the bookshelf
: how to stop lactation when there is no baby
: how to help a friend through babyloss
: how to plan a baby's funeral
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