I've been visiting my sisters for over a week. I've been doing a lot to keep myself busy, to keep my mind busy. There doesn't seem much that does not in some way relate to Chase, or remind me of him somehow. I love being with my sisters and nieces and nephews and watching the kids play together. Somehow, though, I am sad, watching everyone going on when something is missing, not only in my life, but in each of their's, too. Their newest little cousin, little nephew or grandson is missing.
There are times when I feel a moment coming on, and I brush it away. It's too easy to do because there are so many kids around that need soemthing or our project (clean-sweeping my sister's house) distracts me. I feel like it's building up, though. I really want to go back up to the mountain and have time up there where I feel close to him. I picked up my picutres of him that I carry everywhere and if I go a while without really looking at them, then when I finally do, I feel like I'm going back to a place that is ugly, dark, scary, threatening....everything I don't want to think about or remember. I want so bad to turn that "place" into something happy....I got to see my little boy for 3 days and hold him for a moment before he passed. But that sounds crazy. I don't know how I will every be able to think of those moments and be happy. How is that comforting? How can it be? So many tubes, monitors, IVs and blood in some of them, catheters; so many technical terms, meetings with specialists and the staff, so many questions about this drug or that tube, a tiny babe, yet a chubby, healthy looking perfectly formed infant lying there amidst a jungle of today's most advanced medical technology, trying so intricatly and delicately to save his life. It makes me feel nauseous. Sometimes I get really cold and start shivering, like I did in the hospital when it was all happening.
I've been journaling alot, trying to remember those last moments he was in my tummy, I used to love feeling him kick. That was my favorite part of being pregnant. (okay, it was the only part I liked about being pregnant) I remember hearing his heartbeat on the monitor all day long. And then when the monitor went silent. I remember seeing him in the hospital before he was transfered....remember seeing him for the first time. How I instantly bonded with him.....for those few short seconds.....probably less than 300 seconds. Seems like nothin'. But I will never forget it. I remember those 3 days in the NICU when I saw him, touched him, smelled him, talked to him, sang to him, recited him Reese's favorite story that he had heard millions of times already in utero. Time has passed. But the feeling, the hurt, the hole in my heart, hasn't changed. Nor has it gotten any easier. The kids are always checking on me. Thank God for them. But after talking to Emma a couple days ago, I really got a piece of her perspective. The pain she feels from losing a sibling; a baby brother. And I realized her pain is so different from mine. I ache for her. I know she thinks about him alot. I know she prays for him every night. Reese and Karly are really here for me. They hurt when I hurt. They've been sleeping with me since Patric went home for a few days, keeping me snug and warm. I can't imagine not having them. And after what happened with Chase, I feel so incredibly lucky to have them. I feel so lucky to have had those 3 without complications and that they are healthy. So incredibly lucky.