Last Friday I had coffee in the morning with a mommy who lost her first born child to SIDS. This mommy happens to live 3 and a half blocks away from me. She lost her daughter three years ago, while she was a daycare. She has had 2 children since then. It seems like she is doing well. I know she misses her baby but she is the one that told me her heart has grown and made room for two more babies, whom she loves just as much. I was most interested in knowing how she even got through infancy with her new babies. Once this has happened to you, there is no way that you can sleep easy again. She bought a special monitor and she tried to have faith that it couldn't happen again and her children are still here. She, unlike everyone else who says, "It will never happen again", didn't say that. She knows that we cannot give each other these assurances because shit happens. She gave me a few books and has kept in touch with me and I am happy that she is someone who understands what I am going through. One of the books she gave me was "Comfort", by Ann Hood. It is the story of the author's loss of her daughter and her journey through grief. I read it in a day. I then bought the fictional account of the same story, by the same author, "The Knitting Circle". All I can say is, that these books sum up how I feel. In the books, the author talks about how knitting saves her and becomes a way to cope with her depression. I used to knit when I was a little girl. My grandma Ann taught me. I really only ever learned one stitch and I never learned how to start or end my scarves but I remember liking it. So, today I am off to the knitting store to buy some needles and yarn. I told you that I've become old really quick. "Old as Dirt" is what Ted would say.
I tried to go to the knitting store yesterday, but like sushi joints and museums, knitting stores are closed on Mondays. Instead I went to the cemetery. Maxie's grave is in a beautiful part of Mt Sinai. "I am here to visit my son", I tell the guy at the gate. Did I really just say that? Every time Ted and I say it at the gate I wonder if it is real. There was a funeral going on nearby, so I had to park down the hill a little bit. Walking up to his grave is so unreal. But, there it is. "Maxwell Leviss" written on a little white tag on the ground. My dad was there last week for the funeral of an old person and left some rocks on Maxie's grave. Maybe he also left the flower that is stuck into the ground. I didn't bring flowers because I hate the thought of them dying. Several weeks ago, Ted and I went there and asked the woman in the flower shop if she sold pinwheels. I liked the idea of the pinwheel being ever in motion and never having to worry about it dying. "Mt Sinai does not allow pinwheels on the property", she said with a sourpuss. "But our son is only nine months old", I said. "We collect all of the pinwheels and dispose of them", she said, "It's our policy". She is lucky I didn't leap over her little desk and knock her out! I still feel like I could drive back there at any moment and deck her. Anyway, back to yesterday. I was alone, which is fine, since I am mostly alone these days. I laid down on Max's grave and cried my eyes out. "Why did you leave me baby?" I always ask him why he left me. I pressed my cheek against the grass and just bawled. There was a guy in an emergency services vehicle watching me out of the window of his van. Whatever. I guess he got a show because I just let it all out. Cried and cried and begged and pleaded....not sure for what...mostly crying, "WHY? WHY MY BABY? WHY MY MAXIE?" G-d picked the WRONG baby!!!!!!! Maxie was too good to have this happen! I AM SO ANGRY!!!!
This isn't getting any easier.
1 comment
It's only been like 6 weeks. It seems to me you are EXACTLY where you should be. Unfortunately, this is how you should feel after losimg your baby. Its unnatural and wrong. You have suffered the worst kind of loss and i'm sorry.
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