The memory is so vivid.
Two years later it is still seared into my brain.
The sweet babyness of his profile. The last image I ever saw. I can still see it as vividly as I can see the light of God in his sisters eyes. For this memory I am so thankful. So thankful that I have that one thing to hold onto.
What I never expected was the physical pain that I could still feel two years later. A kick from tiny baby toes pierces the soft flesh of my belly leaving a small bruise. That night the bruise of my brain remembers the terror, pain and horror of the procedure to determine why my baby died.
I pray I will someday forget that.
Not wake up in a shaking sweat remembering that horrible office. The baffled young doctor who seemed ill prepared to deal with my over emotional response. The nurse so caring and comforting. The darkness, the whispers. My husband clutching my hand kissing my head his tears falling softly onto and mixing with mine.
The vividness of these memories sometimes scares me.
Can I remember something good as well?
I wrestle my brain. Try to remember a sweet happy moment.
The babies big eyes, open and bright coming in for a kiss. Her dancing in the tub with her sister. The way the roundness of their faces is the same but that her mouth is her brothers and her dimples, squished into sweet cheeks.
I want to remember vividly them in the morning. Finding out its a snow day. Sitting on the floor in layers of fleece with a cat curled up in the center of them. My boy lays on his belly all stretched out and long. Long like a boy but still round in the face of a child. His head propped up on an arm and he smiles at me “Ah family, it’s the best thing ever”. He sister in her heart covered fuzzy fleece pants is curled on her side in a ball to remain worm. Her head rests on his back like he is her personal pillow and she giggles. The baby in head to toe pink fleece is squealing and happy to be sitting with the big kids.
And like that I replace the vividness of pain with vivid and technicolor joy.
Oh my. Tears are welling up in my eyes. Such a vivid recollection.
I do think that some grief never loses its sharp edge, but it is less able to overwhelm us with time--as you have shown here.
He is so Glorious to provide such beautiful images and scenes for you to remember, when He sees you need it most.
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