The Wretched Wanting

These are the thoughts that bubble to the surface. Emotions, especially the darker side of our emotional spectrum, I have found, are like bubbles trapped beneath a body of water's surface. Sometimes a slip occurs, and these bubbles are released to escape to the surface. I have no idea what stirred the waters this morning:

I have never felt as hapless and helpless as a human being.

When I held my little boy….there was not a damn thing that I could do for him.

It was impossible to protect him.

There was not a single thing that I could do to bring him back.

He was peaceful, but he was inhumanly gone.

And, there was not a thing I could do to change that….

My baby boy….and I could do nothing….I had done nothing but wait….and watch….and RELY on others. I am proactive. I am one that likes to jump into the fray. I am a lawyer. That is why I became a lawyer. To carry about change, to effectuate solutions to problems for people. I go down fighting for people even when the odds are so stacked against them.

But here, when it matter most to the people and lives that mean the most to me. I failed. I could not go down fighting because I had not even begun a fight. I was a mere spectator to events that would so effect me for the rest of my life. But, more importantly, to a life that depended on me for all that it was to be. And, I came up wanting by merely watching.

I was passive. I had to be. I was forced to be a spectator to the singular most important event in my lifetime. I could not rise to an occasion and thereby gave him no occasion. There was nothing that I could do.

It wretched, and wretches my soul thinking on these matters.

Collective Journaling

Mother and I have "resolved" to journal our recounting of what was our evolution, and devolution – our roller coaster – of experiences before, during and after the pregnancy.

It is what we hope to be therapeutic for ourselves, sisters and individually.

I know what will be the struggle between us, our ability to synthesize what our objectives will be. I do not want to strictly want to sequence the events, but feel overwhelmed each time I think of where and how to begin.

In "throwing up my arms," my brainstorming led to something, anything joyful to begin…

Wish us luck!

Bitterness. Sweetness.

Bitterness. Sweetness.

Mostly sweet, but the bitterness is ever present, and there for the sharpest contrast, and there like a shot from a hair-trigger's glance.

This was the day of his two sister's 2^nd birthday. In all actuality, this was and is his birthday, as well.

I know the proper word, or the proper description since he had passed 12 days prior in utero.

It is just, as it always is…a stark contrast of feelings. This year was more methodical, it was more of a procedure I followed. That scares me, it always scares me when I feel as though he is that much further from me.

I recall that the very first birthday….in the midst of family, and friends…the party that we dubbed as the "thank-you" party for all the prayers, love , support and blessings…..I slipped away upstairs to speak with him. I wanted to let him know that he was not forgotten, and that I loved him. Oh, how much I missed him and wanted him to be with all of us to share in the joy that was in our home that day…

This year, it was cold outside, and my heart was somewhat cold. I was and always will be happy for my girls. Though, I think each that passes will be that much more difficult for me as everyone moves forward. It is always that much more difficult to be around others, for they never fully show, and quite possibly never really ascertain the feelings that permeate each of these instances….and, it is particularly difficult since they do not grasp, and they do not contemplate….

Nevertheless, I am so scared that I will grow more like them….and, that is the furthest thing that I want to be.