While waiting to pick up my friend K yesterday, a nice elderly couple started a conversation with L, obviously enamoured with her five year old beauty and charm.
They asked her if she had any baby brothers or sisters at home. She looked up at me hesitantly. I encouraged her to tell her story, "you can tell them if you want to."
She turn to them and spoke clearly, "No, I don't have any babies at home. My baby sister Anabelle is in heaven."
Startled, they responded, "Is your baby an angel in heaven?"
Clearly, a more elaborate explanation was needed. Calmly, she replied, "I have a baby sister. Her name is Anabelle. She died. She's in heaven now. But she is a baby, not an angel. God has angels but Anabelle is a baby."
I think they understand now.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Friday, July 06, 2007
Anabelle can't come back to me. I am the one who will go to her some day. That is how it works.
I know she is in heaven and we will be together again some day. But, the fact that she has gone ahead of me is heart-wrenching. I am her mother. I am supposed to go first to make sure it's safe. That's a ridiculous statement if you read it intellectually. It's heaven, how much safer can you get? All I know is that I'm not there. She is somewhere I've never been. She is living in a place outside my reach.
Dr. D believes my physical recovery is being stunted by my emotional blockage. My Diastasis Recti has healed except for a 2 inch vertical slit under my belly button. Perhaps my body's reaction to my unfinished grief is to hold on to the only tangible connection I have with my baby. Sounds hokey even to me, but she struck a nerve when she suggested it.
Is it possible that I am sabotaging my recovery because I think once my body is healed that my connection to her will be gone?
Dr. D has suggested I talk to Anabelle and open my heart to connect with her to confirm she is safe. Perhaps it's not that I need to know she is safe. Perhaps I need her forgiveness for betraying her. My body that was supposed to protect and care for her was the cause of her death.
This was the place of our physical connection. My womb cradled her. But it was also my womb that ended her life. My placenta abrupted and stopped the oxygen to her. That separation caused her death. Perhaps this separation is my punishment? I don't deserve to be healed because she never will? Is this what I really think?
I know she is in heaven and we will be together again some day. But, the fact that she has gone ahead of me is heart-wrenching. I am her mother. I am supposed to go first to make sure it's safe. That's a ridiculous statement if you read it intellectually. It's heaven, how much safer can you get? All I know is that I'm not there. She is somewhere I've never been. She is living in a place outside my reach.
Dr. D believes my physical recovery is being stunted by my emotional blockage. My Diastasis Recti has healed except for a 2 inch vertical slit under my belly button. Perhaps my body's reaction to my unfinished grief is to hold on to the only tangible connection I have with my baby. Sounds hokey even to me, but she struck a nerve when she suggested it.
Is it possible that I am sabotaging my recovery because I think once my body is healed that my connection to her will be gone?
Dr. D has suggested I talk to Anabelle and open my heart to connect with her to confirm she is safe. Perhaps it's not that I need to know she is safe. Perhaps I need her forgiveness for betraying her. My body that was supposed to protect and care for her was the cause of her death.
This was the place of our physical connection. My womb cradled her. But it was also my womb that ended her life. My placenta abrupted and stopped the oxygen to her. That separation caused her death. Perhaps this separation is my punishment? I don't deserve to be healed because she never will? Is this what I really think?
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