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Oh Baby, I Miss You SoDec 10 '00 (Updated Jan 24 '02) Write an essay on this topic.The Bottom Line Accept the pain that comes with loss, never let anyone tell you to "get over it". The sorrow will always be with you, but it does get better over time. A clear, crisp, starry winter night. I remember it like it was yesterday. Frozen fields surrounding the highway, stars shining down so bright. Your daddy drove on that highway just as fast as he could. I remember praying, begging, pleading for the pain and contractions to stop. But they kept on coming…faster….stronger…with every passing minute. I prayed, Lord, I prayed. The drive to the Emergency Room seemed to take forever, but it was only forty minutes. I remember trying to walk into the hospital, and not being able to get out of the car. Your daddy got me a wheelchair and someone else came to help me into it and get me into the hospital. There was a waiting room full of people, but none of them seemed angry when they wheeled me straight in. They seemed to realize that something horrible was happening. Funny how people can sense these things. I remember the doctors, two of them, asking question after question. The pain never stopped, getting increasingly worse, until they finally gave me some morphine. Even that did not kill the physical pain, but it did make it bearable. I remember them telling me to push, and I did not want to! Every fibre of my being screamed at me not to do it! To do so would be to push my baby out of its safe place in my body, to push it out into the world before it was ready! I fought with them, but my body betrayed me. I can still feel your little body leaving mine. And it makes me ache with grief. I remember the voices, so many of them, but one above all the others saying, “Oh, poor little baby”, and my heart shattered into hundreds, no thousands, of pieces. I remember staring at your daddy, and watching the tears run down his face. I can still feel the pain of seeing those tears. I can still feel my heart pounding in my throat, my hand squeezing his hand so hard I thought I might hurt him. I remember them bringing you to me. Oh, you were so very tiny! My little baby boy. My Emmett. I remember wanting to somehow make you breathe. “There must be something I can do”, I kept thinking. “This is my son! I need him! I want him! I love him so much! There must be something someone can do!” But of course there was nothing anyone could do. I remember them giving me more and more drugs, and telling me that I had to go for surgery. I remember waking up in the recovery room, your daddy holding my hand. I remember them taking me to my room and sending your daddy home to get some rest. And I remember the wonderful nurse that sat up with me all night while I cried. And I remember her telling me over and over again that it wasn’t my fault. But something inside me kept saying that it must have been something I did, or didn’t do, that caused this to happen. Even though I knew full well that it was the result of a car accident earlier in the month. I still blamed myself. I remember in the morning they brought you to me again. You were all dressed up in the tiniest clothes I’ve ever seen. You were in a tiny little wicker basket, covered with a tiny green afghan. I remember holding you and crying, and your daddy did the same. I remember the Pastoral Care Aide that came to see us. She was such a wonderful woman. She held our hands and we all prayed together. She told us about the special services the hospital has for special little angels like you, my dearest Emmett. I remember leaving the hospital without you, my darling baby. Just carrying a tiny blanket and two Polaroid pictures of you. I remember the horrible empty feeling leaving that hospital, no longer pregnant, but not carrying my beloved child. Just a blanket and some pictures. I remember the service for you, my darling. I remember the tulips and the teddy bear I put at the monument for the special angels. I remember not being able to breathe without pain, not being able to see without tears, not being able to think without your image in my mind. I have been very fortunate to have your daddy by my side every step of the way through the healing process. We have helped each other to accept that you are not here with us, and we have had friends who have understood and supported us, as well. Friends who have listened to our rants, and accepted our pain. Friends who have given us their hands to hold and shoulders to cry on. Friends who have held us up when we could no longer do it on our own. Friends who have understood that in losing you we lost our hopes, our dreams, our plans for you and your future. I remember you every day, my dear baby boy. The pain has never gone away, but it has become a little more bearable in the four years since I lost you. Some people don’t understand why I don’t just “get over it”, and I’ve stopped trying to make them understand. I will never “get over” the loss of my sweet little child, and I never want to. Because to do that would mean that I had forgotten you. And I never want to forget my child. I loved you from the moment you were conceived, and I will love you until the day I die. You are my child, and that will never change. I carry you with me, every day, and although I may not talk about you every day, I think of you every day. And I love you every day. I sometimes remember you with tears, many times with sorrow, but always with love. Oh Baby, I miss you so! January 24th, 2002 Dearest Emmett, it is five years today since you've been gone. I still ache for you, still yearn to have you in my home, in my life. Today will be spent imagining what it would be like to have a five-year-old running around the house, teasing your baby sister, harassing your older brother and sister. I will spend this day wiping away tears, sitting alone with my thoughts, and trying to keep "busy" so as not to be overwhelmed by my sorrow. But today I know that you are not lonely. That you have someone to hold you and love you until it's my time to see you again. My father, your grandfather, died last summer. It was your sister's birthday, and he could not wait any longer. It was his time to go, but before he did we had a long talk, a reassuring talk for both of us. He told me he had made his peace with God, and that he was ready to go. I asked him if he would please look after you, his grandson, for me until I saw you again. With many tears, in a faltering voice, your grandfather told me he would take care of you the best he could. He would tell you how much I love you and miss you, and he would love you and hold you. I will never forget you my darling. You are always in my thoughts, always in my heart. But now I know that you are not alone, and for that I am thankful. Take care of your grandpa, dear Emmett. Daddy, please kiss my baby for me, and hold him tight. I take comfort in the knowledge that you are together, loving each other. And I miss you both so very much!  |
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