Friday, November 19, 2010

When your baby dies...

I spent an hour or so just sorting through paperwork from the bookshelf tonight.
Bank statements
Phone bills
Tax reports
Coroner's Reports
When your baby dies booklets...

This is it. My life.

When your baby dies.

I feel a sense of impending urgency sneaking up on me.
We've still got quite a while before we actually move anywhere but I have a sense that something big is going to surface or perhaps shift when we do.

Not a leaving her behind kind of feeling but a moving on feeling.
I know somewhere in me I'm going to feel emotional or sad that we are leaving her place.
I'm nervous about the emotions it will bring. I'm anxious about feeling lost again.

I've sensed her lately
Her love is breathtaking
Her soul is Earthy and pure Goddess
Bigger than I could ever imagine
The tears flow not out of sadness but out of aching love
She is mine
I am hers


  1. The paperwork on our coffee table is about the same as yours. Including coroners reports, funeral bills, and baby-loss booklets.

  2. The last paragraph is stunning and so beautiful. I have read it over and over. Yes, you are hers.

    When I rented out rooms in my house I put all of the books and such away, but before that the information on birth defects, and perinatal loss mailings were mixed in with the mundane items.

  3. A big change, absolutely. Mixed emotions between excitement of something about to happen and sadness of leaving your home.
    You are hers, she is yours, and wherever you are, she is too.
    Much love to you xxoo

  4. Looking forward to hugging you after the move.

    Love that you can still feel her even after she's gone, that not even death can keep you two from each other energetically. Wonder what that's like though...bittersweet? Being able to feel her but not hold her? :( Like Clare said...wherever you go she'll be with you.

  5. Thanks AnneMarie. I've missed you around the blog world. xo

    Sometimes it is Sazz, yeah bittersweet. But I try to focus on the energies of earth. Being sad about not holding her is just painful. I like to think of her in and around me. Our bonding and our relationship grew as I grew and nourished her. We didn't get a lot of time together as mother and child earthside. So for me she is in the air, the ocean, the trees the flowers. Not a lost missing baby. Does that make sense? It's how I get by. Seeing the beauty around me makes her more "alive" to me. Doesn't mean to say I'll throw a tantrum and have a not fair, why me, I want to hold my baby again moment too.