Thursday, January 29, 2009

death day

Today is 5 months since Ezra died.

I wish I had something profound to say,
About how much I've grown,
Or how close he feels,
Even though he's not physically here.

But today I just miss him to my core
He doesn't feel close,
He feels far far away.
Out of reach.
Untouchable.

At this time of day 5 months ago,
I was still the happiest woman in the world.
At least I felt that way.
I woke up feeling glorious,
As I did every day back then.
Full of hope, and excitement and expectation
That I would soon meet my son.

Even when the doctor's office called,
To say the tests were irregular
and I should come to the hospital for more tests,
I wasn't worried...if anything a little annoyed,
because I felt so good,
and I had other things to do that day.
But it was a lovely day,
and I enjoyed the walk down to the hospital.
Everything was enjoyable when Ezra was still here.

The testing was very uncomfortable,
But I was still smiling,
Because I could hear Ezra on the fetal monitor for hours,
swooshing as he moved all around.
He helped me through.

For awhile now I have been stuck,
wishing I could rewind to that moment,
when Ezra was still alive and well.
When my biggest worry was the nasty midwife,
who told me that morning that I was being tested for preeclampsia
and would be induced that day.
Which scared me since I wasn't quite 34 weeks,
and the test results weren't back yet.

Oh how I wish that's what had happened.

But my body played a trick on everyone,
and all the tests came back negative for preeclampsia,
and so I was sent home.
Where I quickly became preeclamptic,
in a flash,
the word comes from the Latin/Greek word for sudden flash of light
And like lightening,
Ezra was gone.
And all that was left was a physical pain like none I've ever felt,
Until I learned he was dead,
and the emotional pain took over,
Which hurts even more.

On days like today,
its just too hard to reconcile
the contrast between the happiness that was my pregnancy with Ezra,
and the deep sorrow that has followed.


I've never cried like I've cried for Ezra,
As Aliza wrote a couple weeks ago,
"it’s a wailing of my soul"
And today is a crying day
Too sad
Too hard
Too lonely

Missing Ezra so much.

9 comments:

k@lakly said...

I'm so sorry. 5 months out is so hard, it's still so new and yet it feels like it has been forever because you know it will be forever.
Cry as much and as loud as you need to. We'll all be here thinking of you and your beautiful Ezra.
xxoo

Barbara said...

Here to sit next to you as your soul wails and the tears fall.

xxx

Dani819 said...

Abiding with you and holding you, David, and Ezra in my heart.

Gal aka SuperMommy said...

I am SO sorry, Sarah. And I am SO with you, holding you from afar. Just know you are not alone, for the little tiny bit of comfort that maybe provides. I find the going back to "what if" about all the things that could have gone differently to be the hardest place to be, and I'm there a lot too. How can we not be, when it all just feels so random that our little ones aren't here with us. I wish I could take away all the pain and tears... Instead, I send you extra love today.

Sara said...

I know that utter happiness of the perfect pregnancy and the utter sorrow of losing a sweet baby, and it is so hard to reconcile the two. It doesn't seem like the same person could experience both. I'm thinking of you and honoring Ezra today.

Rach said...

I am thinking of you on this day and other days - I think of all our babies.

28/29th Jan were Alice's due dates - I should be having a baby not reading blogs about our dead babies.

Holding you close as you cry today for your boy.
xxx

Hope's Mama said...

Remembering Ezra with you today Sarah. I can't believe I went from that place to this place either. It is so cruel.

CLC said...

Thinking of you and Ezra and your husband. It is so hard to reconcile. I wonder if it's even possible.

mama said...

Sweet Dear Mama,

I am so sorry. I remember when we were 5 months from our daughters death. It's so hard. Dammit, everyday is so hard. You are not alone in your pain, in your longing for your beautiful child. I wish that I could reach out and hug your pain away. Keep writing, keep remembering, keep on in your way of grieving. You are doing the right thing. I am holding your Ezra and you close in my heart.

Sending you love and support.

Erin
Birdie's Mama