Starting To Fade....

I’ve always had a picture of what DIJ would look like, and I was thinking about him the other day. Suddenly I realized that the intense, romanticized version of what this child looked like seemed hazy to me. I couldn’t quite conjure up my fall back image, the image I’ve kept with me for two years that simultaneously comforted me and also brought me intense, searing grief.

I’m actually not quite sure what to make of this new development. I don’t feel weird about it, or sad, or depressed, but I also don’t feel that I’ve moved on and forgotten him. Perhaps it’s just the inevitability of time, and what time can do for a trauma one experienced. If that’s the case, then it’s officially taken me 30 months to feel better about his death, and so many of my dreams that died along with him. 30 really long, crazy months. That’s roughly half the amount of time we were trying to have a baby.

I think I’ll always still love him, and also always still consider him our first child. I also think I will always always feel this terrible guilt, that it was my body unknowingly slowly killing him, depriving his little growing body of nutrients while it was trying so hard to grow, grow, grow.

Remember how last year I was in such a deep dark place about this that I felt I should be in jail for murder? My body murdered our son! How can I go around and live when he was sucked out of me in several different pieces, never to take even one breath of air? Well, I still feel that way, just not as intense. It’s actually taken me several minutes to write this one paragraph because I keep crying. It’s a familiar cry, one I’ve done countless times, and somehow it’s almost comforting. I feel better afterwards, like he and I were in touch for a little bit, but now it’s time to dry my eyes and move on.

Something else that is fading- the dark line on my stomach from the pregnancy. Obviously, I had that line. Every time I get undressed I see the reminder of DIJ and my failure. And then I think about all the women out there who still have that line and actually had a successful pregnancy followed by a live birth. It’s so upsetting.
I’ve been using a lightening stick on it to try and help dissolve it. Well, the other day at the gym I reached up to redo my ponytail and my top lifted a bit- my eyes automatically went to that spot. And I did a little double take – I usually can see it right away, but I had to walk closer to the mirror to see it this time. I couldn’t believe it – it’s truly starting to fade.

Again, mixed feelings. Yes, I am absolutely thrilled. But, now I realized it was part of me that was part of him, and even this is fading now. But it’s good, it’s a good thing.
Hmm, well I guess this post was both positive and negative, eh? Let’s leave it on something good- the twins are doing amazing. I still can NOT get over the fact that they are biologically ours. I’m not exaggerating when I say I think about it every single day. Every single day! I also want to say this is harder then I thought it would be! Ha!

More later….

Comments

[Mic @ IF Crossroads]

That's pretty intense, Sunshine. Grief is a really fucked up thing to process, and everyone does it in their own way. The pain will (likely) always stay with you, but the intensity will likely change throughout the years.
xoxo

[KH99]

My father died in June 2010, and I'm amazed at how fuzzy some of my images are becoming. And how his voice sounded. From one IM to another, congrats on your beautiful babies.