Friday, August 14, 2009

The Things We Have Lost


We haven't been on vacation for a full year. Two months of 'disability' leave after Ezra died didn't count, particularly since I was barely leaving the house at that point.. We've had a couple beautiful weekends away which brought some peace and gentle moments. But packing up and leaving our house for a full week...that hasn't happened since this time last year. It finally happened again this week.


Heading to the shore, I felt layers of stress falling away with each mile we drove. Its been a week of no 'have tos' and no 'shoulds'. Just a beautiful house, ocean waves, evening crickets, long walks and doing as we please. A week of my nephew's giggles and my niece's snuggles. A week of afternoon naps and time to read. A week of finding peace. We both feel rejuvenated. Our only wish is that we could stay here longer. I think if I could spend the rest of my pregnancy here, I might actually make it through without losing my mind. Sadly, we go home tomorrow.


The week has also been hard at times. Listening to my dad tell my nephew he's his favorite grandson felt like a knife to the gut. Watching my niece try to nuzzle up to my breast to breastfeed broke my heart. To the extent our days had any schedule, they revolved around toddler time (lunch at 11:30am, nap at 1pm, dinner at 5pm), highlighting all that we don't have. Other than with each other, we really haven't had an adult conversation in a week.


But the hardest part has been being left alone with my own head. Although much of the usual chatter has quieted this week, I can't help but reflect on our time here at the beach last year. I was 31 weeks pregnant, already feeling like an elephant, but a very happy elephant. Our lives felt so full of hope and promise...we were weeks away from meeting our precious son, Ezra's daddy had a new job, our family members were healthy...the world felt whole and ok.


And how quickly that has all unraveled. Not only have we lost a son, a father, a job...we have lost our grounding, our faith in the future, our sense of belonging in the universe. Our hopes and dreams have been crushed and replaced with sadness, anger, and anxiety. When I fully consider all we have lost, all I can do is weep.


I've also been reflecting on what we still have. A deep deep love for each other. The ability to know what matters in life. The capacity to appreciate quiet moments of beauty and peace. A Sunflower growing inside. We may be broken, but we haven't forgotten how to hope or dream.


16 comments:

Hope's Mama said...

Hoping and dreaming with you my friend. I hope we can visit that beach together some day with our own baby and toddler nap and feed schedules.
xoxo

Mirne said...

It does unravel so quickly. That's the really scary thing isn't it? That we create something so wonderful and then when it goes wrong it takes all that wonderful away. I'm glad you had a relaxing time.

Carly Marie said...

I wish you could stay there for the rest of Sunflowers belly time.

We are all here for you Sarah. Thinking of you so much during the next few weeks my friend.

Missing him with you x

Carly x

Akul's mama said...

I am so sorry you lost your child. Hope your little sun flower fills your life with rays of gold.

Barbara said...

Hoping for better days ahead.

xxx

Rach said...

'but we haven't forgotten how to hope or dream.'

You are wonderful, you really are.

xxx

PS - word verification is 'wines' - one day, down the track, perhaps we can all get together for one? Or a bottle or two!

AnnaMarie said...

This post is heartbreaking and lovely. So glad to hear that you found some peace during your vacation and I hope the stress doesn't all return once you get back home.

Monique said...

All those things make me sad too. I'm so glad you found some peace and quiet for a little while and I hope it continues on for as long as it can. xoo

Paige said...

I'm glad you had a peaceful setting to reflect on what you've lost and what you still have. I second Sally with a desire to visit that beach someday, celebrating the babies physically with us and those that aren't. Much love as you return home. xo

Michele said...

Oh Sarah... Those reflections mirror my own on so many days... Sending you peace...

Funsize said...

Your strength astounds me- I couldn't imagine spending more than a few hours around toddlers, watching their parents fawn all over them, much less spend a week amidst all that.

Thinking of you...
xoxo

Fireflyforever said...

This was one those "yes" posts. I was reading and nodding and understanding it all ... and what a stunning last paragraph. Here's to hopes and dreams

Lynda said...

I still hear the hope in your writing. Almost like you are having an internal battle with yourself. Hang to that hope my friend. Thinking of you.

Molly said...

What a beautiful post. Hang on to those thoughts of what you do have left, sometimes that's all we have to hang on to.

aliza said...

oh sarah,
what a beautiful post. what a year it has been. left with the brokenness and pain and yet still able to feel the gratitude. you are courageous to spend your vacation with a toddler and baby. may next year's vacation be on your new baby's schedule, ezra's sibling.
xox

Sophie said...

"I've also been reflecting on what we still have. A deep deep love for each other. The ability to know what matters in life. The capacity to appreciate quiet moments of beauty and peace. A Sunflower growing inside. We may be broken, but we haven't forgotten how to hope or dream."

Thank god we still have this. Me too. Me too.