In August I wrote about the season being wrong, the sun being too hot and bright, now there is no avoiding the red leaves and the wet sidewalks. Saersha's season is here. I thought this might help me feel closer to her. Instead, while I find myself reminded of her and thinking of her often, my overall feelings are more of shock, disbelief and anger that she came and was taken from us almost a year ago. There is no peace in it.
Saersha's brother's season is also here. As we dare to discuss what the plan will be for this baby's birth, we can only draw from that experience and remember all of the points along the way, from the ambulance, to admitting, to signing forms, to the OR, to the hospital room without her and leaving with aching arms. These thoughts bring up angst filled questions that I had put aside. Why did the freaking ambulance driver go to the wrong entrance? Why didn't they appreciate how serious it was? Why didn't they just take her out right away while her heart was still beating? I had convinced myself that none of those things would have saved her but now here they are again these angry questions.
I look at the first photos of her in the operating room and the NICU and it's unreal that my baby had to endure these medical interventions and this violent emergency birth. I see in those photos my own pale and expressionless face and I still feel the numbness, shock and despair.
How will it be this time? Can we even imagine the baby crying as he is brought into the world? Could he really just be held by his dad and not rushed from resuscitation to NICU? Will we really have him in our room to be visited and admired? While on a practical level I try and make these plans it's still hard to believe that I am not going to the hospital just to have the baby die.
These babies will be only a year and 10 days apart. I feel like half of me is still with Saersha not having really gotten over anything and the other half is trying to be here and strong for her brother. There is no cohesive whole that has healed and grown stronger but a dichotomy. I guess that will have to do.
This feels like Anja's season to me, too, even though she died in January and was due in March, the fall was when I really thought she was going to be mine, when I let myself revel in my pregnancy with her. And those questions - we can tamp them down but they rear their ugly heads again and again, don't they?: why didn't they? why didn't I? what if? I have been wondering how you are doing, and I'm hoping for as much peace as possible for you in the next weeks. Remembering Saersha among the rain and red leaves.
ReplyDeleteThere is no cohesive whole that has healed and grown stronger but a dichotomy.
ReplyDeleteYes, I feel this way, too.
I can only imagine what it must be like to be pregnant again so soon after your traumatic loss. I hope for you as much ease as possible during this second birth. I hope Saersha's little brother comes screaming into the world, all pink, with fists waving.
Post soon.