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David keeps asking me lately what’s wrong. We’ll be driving or something and I’ll be looking out the window and he’ll ask, what’s wrong? Sometimes I want to laugh. Sometimes I want to smack him (it's annoying, but I like that he's asking anyhow). But the truth of the matter is, he knows what’s wrong. It’s wrong for him too. But I think it frightens him how wrong it all really is (it scares the crap out of me!!) and deep down inside I think he hopes it’s something else that is wrong. Something he can fix, talk out or smooth over, because that's what men do. Sadly though, it’s usually nothing at all. Usually I'm just sitting there, not consciously thinking about anything sad. I think I’ve just changed. Maybe I’m not all sunny and bright anymore. Maybe I'm not as talkative. Maybe it's because everything seems so trivial in the light of my son's death. Maybe I have more lines on my forehead. Maybe there's a permanent sadness in my eyes. I don’t know. It makes me feel a little weird though. I don’t want to be different. I don’t want to be a problem that needs to be solved or an issue that needs to be fixed. I just want to be. I want to be the person he married. I want to be me, but I think the new definition of me has been seriously altered lately.
I am working on being ok with that.
I don’t talk to David about Logan much. I reference him, but we don’t talk about him. We don't get down to the nitty gritty "how are you feeling?" stuff. I don’t want to dwell on Logan or bring him up if David isn’t thinking about him. I don’t want to ruin his day too, or add to the stress that he so clearly is already under. That’s why I blog, because I have to talk about it. But, if I’m honest with myself I know that I don’t have to bring him up to David. I’m sure David thinks about Logan just as much as I do. Men and women are different. At least David and I are different. I want to hear him talk about it. I want to know if he feels the breathtaking sadness that I do. I want to know if he wants to put his fist through a wall. But I also know that he probably just wants to forget about it, or keep it his private agony. I’ll never understand that…but as you see I am a yapper. David is reserved and private. But, I know that he knows how I feel. He reads my blogs...but we don't talk about them either. ;)
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1 comments:
I'm sorry for your loss and understand what it means to be a parent of a stillborn baby. My son Nicolas was born still three years ago from an undiagnosed Velamentous cord insertion after 41 weeks of being tucked away in his Mama's belly. There is not a day that goes by where I don't think of him. His birth brought emotions of such great polar opposites both sorrow and joy. The day we didn't hear his heart beat on the monitor the world, time and space stopped. I thought I died. It’s hard for me to put into words but maybe someday I’ll be able to. All I can say is that some days are harder than others and it never gets easier! You learn to live as a forever changed person. Someone who's vision of the world has twisted and time has shifted.
I think it is great that you write this blog and I love the title “It only hurts when I breathe!” A great answer to the question “how are you doing?” I subscribed to your RSS feed and hope you don’t mind if I share your blog. My wife and I launched a website in honor of Nicolas’ third birthday on 03/01/2009. I’m a graphic designer/web designer/jack of all art trades and have brought my wife’s vision to realization. Creating our site, designing products, and creating artwork of my son have helped me much like your blog helps you.
I like your husband suffer in silence and only just recently have I started to talk more openly with friends, family and strangers. I wear a dog-tag with Nicolas’ picture on it with Daddy’s Sweet Angel inscribed on it. If you are looking at me you see my son and his story will be told! Take care and thanks for sharing your stories.
Jason
Honor. Treasure. Remember.
www.hanamiprints.com
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