Sometimes I wonder if I will come back here and express something that is hopeful or peaceful, that type of thing. Not yet.
I still think of my girl babies several times a day. Every night as we end our meal's blessing we give a shout out of love to Abigail and to Zaria. Now when I say these words my mind flashes to pictures of them. I see Zaria nestled under my cardigan with her eyes wide open feeling my heart. I see the picture the nurses took of Abigail's body. I think I wish I had not seen these pictures. We had decided not to hold her body or see her after her explosive birth of death. Hmm, not sure how to say that right. I am sometimes sad that I did not hold her body and sometimes I feel guilt.
The nurses present you with a memory box and we now have two of these.
Zaria's memory box is filled with little items that we experienced with her. Abigail's box was filled with a dressing gown and hat and a blanket with which she was posed. Weird? I don't know. Endearing? Not so much. Now that picture haunts me. I have to figure a way of reprogramming what I see in my mind when I think of her. Now if I can only find the key to that new picture.
Tonight at dinner I remembered eating corn on the cob the night I went into labor with the twins. Those memories will sneak up and stop your breath and remind you.
The thought of getting on an airplane, the thought of going back to Reno, the thought of a new baby or babies filling my womb....I just don't know what to think.
I still think of my girl babies several times a day. Every night as we end our meal's blessing we give a shout out of love to Abigail and to Zaria. Now when I say these words my mind flashes to pictures of them. I see Zaria nestled under my cardigan with her eyes wide open feeling my heart. I see the picture the nurses took of Abigail's body. I think I wish I had not seen these pictures. We had decided not to hold her body or see her after her explosive birth of death. Hmm, not sure how to say that right. I am sometimes sad that I did not hold her body and sometimes I feel guilt.
The nurses present you with a memory box and we now have two of these.
Zaria's memory box is filled with little items that we experienced with her. Abigail's box was filled with a dressing gown and hat and a blanket with which she was posed. Weird? I don't know. Endearing? Not so much. Now that picture haunts me. I have to figure a way of reprogramming what I see in my mind when I think of her. Now if I can only find the key to that new picture.
Tonight at dinner I remembered eating corn on the cob the night I went into labor with the twins. Those memories will sneak up and stop your breath and remind you.
The thought of getting on an airplane, the thought of going back to Reno, the thought of a new baby or babies filling my womb....I just don't know what to think.
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