Pain

All  day long I wear a mask.  When I smile at you, it's often my mask smiling at you.  When I say I'm good, it's my mask talking.

I am in pain.  I don't know how to feel that pain but it is always there.  Deep inside my being.  In my heart, my throat, the pit of stomach.  The pain is my arms that held you, in my lips that kissed you, my eyes that looked lovingly at you.  It is everywhere.  

I hate that people have moved on.  I hate that people don't ask about Hunter.  I hate that people no longer want to see his photos.  I hate that people talk about him in past tense.  All these things cause me more pain.

The sympathetic looks.   The idle conversation I have to smile at and pretend to enjoy.  I know what people are thinking, I can see it.  I know that when I'm gone people will talk about me.  They will say "She's the one I was telling you about.  The one whose baby died."  Some conversations would probably be bordering on excited gossip.  Some people take joy in the fact that they know me, the Mum of Hunter.  When someone hears about us and our story they can say "I know her."  

The people that do this, they do not know me.  I know the type of person that speaks of me this way.  I can see it like it's written on their foreheads in a thick black vivid. It's not everyone.  Just some.

Something that hurts just as much is the people who avoid the topic all together.  Do they think we want to forget?  I don't want to forget, not for one tiny second.  If I could I would do it all again.  I would be pregnant, I would go through that 49 hour labour, I would hold you as you died in my arms.  I would do it all again just in the hope to get an extra second with you.  One more breath.

For now I am going to be a narcissist.  I am going to be a narcissist because it is all about me.  I am going to stop worrying about what my words and feelings might do to others.  This is mine, I am going to own it.

Dear Hunter,

I love you so much my baby.  We talk about you always.  We talk about you so much that your big brother can point at your pictures and say 'Hunter'.  He knows you are here too.

You've been flying high for nearly three months now.  Its been a lifetime to me but I wish it was just yesterday.  If it was yesterday I would have held you yesterday, kissed you yesterday.  Seen you just yesterday.

I miss you.

Mummy xxx

“…Though I experienced death, I also experienced life…not after the darkness, as we might suppose, but in the darkness. I did not go through pain and come out the other side; instead, I lived in it and found within that pain the grace to survive and eventually grow. I did not get over the loss of my loved ones; rather, I absorbed the loss into my life, like soil receives decaying matter, until it became a part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it.”–Jerry Sittser

I am two people now: one mourns and the other takes the steps that make up life.


These are from another blog I am reading.  Perfectly describes me.

I want to hold your hand again Hunter.  Such a tiny thing to ask for but one I have to wait so long for.

I visited you twice today.  Daddy and I have visited you nearly every day and it's never rained, or even spitted with rain.  We can leave the house in the most horrible weather but when we get to you the sun always shines.  You always shine.  Every single time.  That's incredible given it's been through the middle of winter.  I know you are doing it and I know you are with me.

You are my sunshine : )

I miss you so much Hunter.

I feel like I am waiting for your death to be over and for you to come back.  I want it to be over, you can come back to us now.  We have learnt our lessons and it's time to come back.

If only death worked that way.

Today I am making a memory album for you.  It's going to be really nice and like everything that is for you I am putting a lot of thought and effort into it.  It's kind of like a scrap book.  But you already know this because you are always watching me.

We (Mummy and Daddy) still feel like everything is wrong, that nothing is going right and that we are such different people now.  It's so hard to get used to.

We are still finding that some friends are true and others aren't.  This is a big thing for me, I am holding onto it maybe because I've been hurt by some peoples lack of caring.  I suppose that stuff doesn't matter, and it may be something else that is bothering me and I just haven't figured out what that is yet.  I find that happens a lot.  

I am looking for a job.  I ideally want something that helps people.  A job where I can share my experiences to help people...I don't think I'm going to find that job for a while.  One day I will but maybe now isn't the right time.

I wonder what you'd look like now.  You'd definitely be chubby.  You were such a hungry wee thing.  Maybe you'd be bald!  Or have the funny 'old man balding' that your Dad and Cooper both had.  No hair on top but lots on the sides and back.

You would probably be rolling or close to it.  I would prop you over a tri-pillow in front of a mirror so you could coo and chatter to yourself in the mirror.  And if you're anything like your brother, I think you are, you'd be kicking your arms and legs to music, getting excited and laughing.  

Cooper is getting so smart.  It's bitter sweet.  I would love to see you at his age in a years time.

Coopers recent tricks are feeding himself with a spoon or stabbing food with a fork.  He points to things now and calls everything a dog.  He hears a dog barking and points in the direction saying 'dog dog' before he can even see it.  He's a smarty pants.  He also rides his little trike around the place saying brmm brmm brmm.  

I hope you are watching him closely.  He's full of mischief.  Enough for both of you.

I had better go now baby.  I need to fold the washing and pick up al the toys.  I've got you with me all the time.  On my mind, in my heart and on my necklace.

I love you millions.  More every day.

xxx Mumma xxx