Monday, November 16, 2009

Can you imagine

not knowing what colour your daughter's eyes are?

not knowing the sound of her laugh? or cry?

listening to people talking about their children, their babies, in front of you, knowing that to them it's nothing, but to you it's everything and something you'll never have the absolute privilege of doing?

realising all over again that this is it.

If you can't imagine, this is how it feels:
sickening, physically nauseating, physically painful, lonely, very, very lonely, isolating, desperate, dark.

5 comments:

livingintherainbow said...

Caz

Sorry this is so difficult - heartbreaking I think the term is. I experienced all of that but with our firstborn at home I am sure that took the sting out of what you are experiencing.

I know how lonely it feels but you are not alone. God is with you and there are others sharing this journey with you. Thanks for sharing and our thoughts and prayers are with you

Nicole, Graeme, Janel and Nathan said...

Oh Caz - my heart breaks for you and with you. Having my kids helps, but nothing really makes it any easier. As you said: this is it. This is our life now. And it sucks. Royally. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.

But know that you are, and are never, alone. Not only is God with you through it all, but you have us - your real friends and your cyberspace friends...

And if it gets bad, or you just want to talk to someone who has been there too, call me - I think you have my number. If not, go via the FB Born Sleeping group, or the website and you'll be able to get hold of me.

Strength, and lots of hugs!

Mrs. Holly Hall said...

Caz: My heart aches for you reading all of this. I hope upon hope this blog is providing an outlet for your pain.

I realize that we are blogging neighbors but I feel very sensitive knowing you are a follower. I am not sure if you still read other's blogs,but

... Knowing what you are going through and how you are feeling when people blather on about their kids. . . . My heart just aches for you...

That being said, I am about to write all manner of things about getting pregnant and birthing a third child. I don't want to subject you to this because, you need to heal right now.

Maybe you should avert your eyes or defollow, because I don't want to add to your pain. Really, I don't.

Take care and my prayers are with you.

xoxo

Mrs. Hall

CottonSocks said...

It does feel that way, doesn't it? What gets me is the paralytic moment when a conversation about pregnancy or birth happens and I debate internally about whether or not it is appropriate for me to join in or no. People forget I am a mother too, that I was in labor for hours and delivered a child who lived briefly, that I know what contractions feel like and how bad engorgement can be.

And I freeze. I hate that slow-motion-on-coming-car-wreck feeling that sweeps over me sometimes. Close friends? For some reason, that is totally ok. Less close friends? I still get frozen and angry and hurt. If nothing else, I want to screech at them to not be so damned confident it's all going to work out. What a joy to be around I must be.

Caz said...

@cottonsocks: exactly. You and I are mothers and yet all the "mom" emails have stopped coming, we are politely excluded from the "mom" topics of conversation and the really really bad one: we have no one to call us "mom"