But without the ultimate prize.
So many things have been wildly similar to when I had your sister.
Your dad set up the TV the day the bleeding started in our bedroom so while I laid and rested I could watch mindless shows (funny enough, I’m continuing Blackish from where I stopped with your sister).
I was told to take it easy, I’ve also taken more tinctures with you than your sister. Maybe one day this thumb will turn green and I’ll have an herb garden.
All my sugar cravings are gone, thanks. After I lost you I gave into the Krispy Kreme craving, knowing it wouldn’t satisfy, but I guess since I knew I wouldn’t give you a sugar high I was probably alright to do it to myself.
We’ve had meals delivered, plants, flowers, and virtual hugs. I have to say, it still takes a village to be in this phase. I’m not healing on my own. Many are praying for us and loving us in their own ways, and I’m so thankful. Your aunt surprised me and came through the door yesterday. I of course sobbed, but I guess that’s to be expected.
To be completely honest, I was sad to see my bleeding has basically stopped, because it was a physical reminder you’re with me, but it seems you’ve left my body and the remnants are almost done too. We’re working on better physical reminders of your presence on this earth, I’ll be excited to share them with the world when it’s time.
I have a certain cry I cry when I think of you. It hurts, because when I start that cry, it digs deep. Deep into the pits of my body, parts of me I forget that exist on a daily basis. But with you gone, I’m aware of my body, I’m aware of my empty womb. The cry is one I believe many are aware of. It’s LOUD. I’m sucking down air, trying to assure myself, while others around me try to assure me, all the while, I’m just hoping that my cry is heard by our Heavenly Father. I pray He hears my lungs stealing the air to make sure I don’t faint. Because, well, my body will fight to live. I will fight too, it’s just in those deep crying moments, I don’t know what I want. Do I want healing? Do I want to stop trying to get better? Do I want you back, selfishly? Am I jealous God sees your face, your eyes, your fingertips, your nose? Am I at peace with what’s going on? I guess I am, but like I keep seeing, healing is not linear. One night, I was so at peace with everything. Today at church I was begging God to give you back to me. In the Father’s house, I was asking him to put you back in my womb, funny isn’t it? But I know God hears my cries. I know I’m not alone.
Son, can you hear me too? Do you know how much mama loves you? Do you know I’m going to get better?
I am. I will not lose this battle, because God is indeed on my side.
Be good,
Sydney
