This is going to be one of those posts that doesn't include super cute pictures of a new adventure. This is one that’s been brewing for a while, so this is your warning if you’d like to wait until the next post now is your time to skip.
The past week was one of those weeks. You know…where having the lady checking you out at the grocery store ask you if you found everything ok seems like too hard of a question. Where when the car wash you stop at is out of order, you have to breathe for a few minutes before you can move on. The one night I made it to the gym last week, the kid at the desk said “see you tomorrow” and that seemed like something bigger than I could commit to right at that moment.
In the middle of surgery for the husband and my office mate at work, birthday parties, art fair, bake sale, school party and Valentine’s Day happenings last week, I forgot that on one of those days I needed to take a minute for me.
Last week was 5 years since I lost a baby. No one wants to talk about when it happens; it’s awkward and uncomfortable. It’s even more so 5 years later, but that doesn’t mean that for the people that lived it that that feeling goes away. I know that it isn’t a big thing to anyone else. But for one minute, I needed to let it be a big thing for me.
After I lost the baby, I wore and angel wing necklace. I never took it off. This picture (sorry it's a little fuzzy) is me holding Payton for the first time, weighing a pound and a half, and you can see it next to her. On her first full day home from the hospital she reached up and pulled it off, breaking the chain.
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I've never really been able to find another chain that fits the necklace. When I was digging for something in my purse over the weekend I found this...
A pin that the nurses used on Payton's blanket, a bow they taped on her head when she was soooo tiny and my angel pendant from my necklace. Timely, huh?
So I'm going to go to that awkward and uncomfortable place. I'm going to acknowledge it and then be able to move forward again. Just for a moment.
Amy,
ReplyDeleteI often think of that little babe and you. I know how sad that time was for you. I think it's important that you also have time for you, no one else, just you.
Love,
Dad