Growing

With each day the loss of our babies grows further away. The pain however weighs in. Sometimes I feel as if I am a tree and my branches are heavy with snow... slowly the snow begins to melt and I am able to move again. I am able to feel the sun on my cheeks and see things I haven't seen perhaps, ever. It is a slow awakening from a long, dark, ugly, terrible, awful nightmare...

Some days are so messy. I am so easily disrupted by memories of what happened. Blood dropping between my legs both times when blood was supposed to be absent. Screaming terror and fear. Notions of loss before the loss even equates mentally. Its all too much. And then there are days when I actually live and breathe without remembering my full loss... until I see a pregnant woman bouncing around, a stroller from behind or baby clothes in a window...

I know now, that I will never, ever take procreation for granted. I will never hope that I am NOT pregnant. I will never forget my little angels and my true love for them. I will never let myself forget the entire story of what happened on July 15th 2004 and November 30th 2004. Those days and the ones before, in between and after have changed me forever.

Sometimes I think my experiences have made me bitter and angry- and in a way they have. But I know deep in my soul that I have gained some knowledge, some introspection and perhaps tools that I may use in my later years... though the lessons are not evident now...I know they exist within me- they take space.

Without learning there are no experiences worth mentioning.

I am grateful for life- for breath-for tomorrow. And I am deathly afraid of loss ... and that fear I will have to combat because we are born to die. I will have to combat my fear of sex. My fear of losing a job because I am pregnant. I will have to fight my bitter temper that explodes without warning on innocent bystanders. I will have to believe that I will get another chance; we will have children and the makings of a family.

I have to conquer the sadness and grief that attaches itself to me when I see other women happy, holding their kin. I will have to learn that it is okay to be sad and pissed and then you gotta' move on. I have to be okay with me before I begin the trek to reproducing. I don't want to regret and I don't want to forget. I will always know my first children as the ones that were lost. They will always be my first.

Tonight- their mittens hang from the beautiful tree in Denver- overlooking the snowcapped mountains- and that calms me.

At least I can find peace in pieces.