Brothers

The other day Monty told Nonna "I used to have a big brother, now he lives in a tree."

1, 2, 3...

Three years and each one brings a gift of newly discovered grief
I hate today not just because it is the day my first son died
But because I never know how to honor his memory
it feels like failing him all over again
it's the end of a long day
(Why can’t I ever sit down and do this first thing?)
failure
And this blog feels more like a albatross than a phoenix
I started it to memorialize him
It’s pathetic
an annual entry
I’ve failed him again
I am no longer sure why I would want to write my feelings publicly?
am I trying to prove that I remember him
I am sure there is little doubt by anyone that I could ever forget
And I am certainly not proving that I love him here
failure
That’s what this anniversary has revealed to me
failure
After two years of love and care for Monty I have discovered
How much I failed Milos as a mother
I wasn’t there when he needed me
I had no idea how to take care of him
I left him alone in the hospital to die (again)
if that had been Monty I would have never left!
so maybe I was not a mother when Milos died
I didn’t feel transformed into one when he was born limp
failure
Ok, so this isn’t exactly a new revelation
But instead of just feeling that I killed him or abandoned him as a person
Which may sound odd but it was more of how I saw myself
Compared to now
Now, I feel like a failed him as a mother
And no tin that way that every mom feels like a failure
More like in a Sophie’s Choice kind of failure as a mother

So in an attempt to begin a ritual or to do something meaningful for him
to right a wrong (ha!)
We ended up going to a Buddhist Temple in Chinatown at the end of the day
After a long family nap
After I cried in David’s arms for a good long while
in the rain (the weather is always sh*t on his birthday)
there was a giant gold Buddha and gifts of oranges and incense
and lanterns and Christmas lights and people praying and monks chanting
Monty was mesmerized
He talked about the gong the monks made with the bowl all evening
I lit an incense stick
and we gave money
next year I think we'll bring oranges
It felt good to be there
an attempt at something fitting
He died on Chinese new year
both him and his brother are oxen
This week ushers in the year of the water dragon
God/Buddha help us!

Blindsided by feelings

I was in a yoga class the other day and the instructor was playing a mix of music. "Everything in it's right place" came on and I felt really good in my body. Enjoying the class trying to get physical again and again.
Then Kate Bush's Woman's Work came on and I began to sink in my posture. That song has always made me sad. It seems to be about labor and birth (to me). Here are the lyrics:

Pray God you can cope.
I stand outside this woman's work,
This woman's world.
Ooh, it's hard on the man,
Now his part is over.
Now starts the craft of the father.

I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking

Of all the things I should've said,
That I never said.
All the things we should've done,
Though we never did.
All the things I should've given,
But I didn't.

Oh, darling, make it go,
Make it go away.

Give me these moments back.
Give them back to me.
Give me that little kiss.
Give me your hand.

(I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.)

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking

Of all the things we should've said,
That we never said.
All the things we should've done,
Though we never did.
All the things that you needed from me.
All the things that you wanted for me.
All the things that I should've given,
But I didn't.

Oh, darling, make it go away.
Just make it go away now.

Maybe it's just about someone dying and loss and regret but of course I think of Milos. And i found myself crying in child's pose trying to hide. And Monty was with his new babysitter. She's been with us for a couple of weeks and I've slowly been letting them further and further out of my sight. So I trust her as much as you can trust someone else with your child which is not really a much but I try my best. So, crying there on the floor I was thinking of Milos and Monty and I wanted to jump up and run out of the room and find my son. Make sure he was ok, feel him, smell him. Mind you I had just left him about 20 min. prior. Sigh this is parenting after the death of a baby. Fear, fear, fear. And whatever progress was made over the last months as he grows past SIDS risk and becomes a more hearty child overall has been nearly demolished by the next phase of having to let him go out into the world with another caretaker and sometimes now just on his own. In front of me, exploring the world on his own two feet, hazard riddled playgrounds and quickly out of sight maze like shopping malls, cars on the street, stairs, ramps, concrete, it goes on and on. And i cried this week more than i have in months because it's already time to let go of him
and trust he'll be ok. HOW? When you've already been so burned? Sometimes i think, nothing could happen because we've already been touched by death and misery but i stop the thought quick because some people just get more than their share and others get none. It's just how it seems to work and I know I won't ever understand why so i need to trust and press on, one day at a time.

2nd Anniversary

I am so sorry I didn't plan on writing more earlier because I am too tired now. Your little brother keeps me on my toes and he made this day much easier on me and your Dad. I love you. I miss you. I am more angry and sad than ever that you are not here with us. Our long awaited family is beautiful but will never be complete with out you.

Unposted draft I started on his 2nd Anniversary

There's been a story in the news these last couple of days about a woman who kidnapped a baby in 1987 and the child just discovered her true identity. The woman confessed and said she had suffered several miscarriages and was desperate to have a baby. As crazy as kidnapping a baby is, I understand. I remember feeling this way after we lost Milos. That I was so baby crazy, aching, yearning for a baby that I couldn't look at another child or even come close for fear I would run off with it! ...

Forgetting/Forgiving

The other night at my husbands art opening we were talking with a friend who had a baby a week before we lost Milos. He was talking about his daughter and as he was talking I was trying to remember how old she was and then I was struck with silent horror that I had forgotten that she was Milos' age! Why hadn't that struck me immediately? I can only hope I am letting go of the resentment I felt towards every friend who had a baby that year we lost our first son and not that I am forgetting Milos.
Never.

(Re)touched

Thanks to another wonderful Mom who lost her little girl as I lost Milos for retouching these pictures. I am so touched by her love and attention to these images. Thank You!