Yesterday was the five “monthaversy” and my mom sent me another poem that I got this morning:
How quickly, yet how slowly
Five months can pass.
I took a walk this morning
And thought of little, lost Noah,
And I realized that he isn’t “lost”
But traveling before us to whatever lies beyond.
Who can know where the souls of unborn babies go?
I can only guess that it’s a place of brightness, love and miracles.
He gave us the gift of sorrow,
So that we can appreciate joy.
By descending into the darkness,
We yearn towards the light.
By releasing this tiny soul,
Our paths become open to the possibility of bliss.
I had a whole post I wanted to write yesterday about the many small losses and the pings, pangs, and zings that continue to be a part of my life. But, I didn’t get a chance to do so. Suffice to say, it is weird how many “firsts” and pangs there continue to be—for example, this week my usual PJ pants were in the laundry and had to dig around for others, realizing then with a pang, that I had not worn that pair of pants since I was in labor with Noah (and pulled them off because they were terribly uncomfortable at the moment). On Tuesday, I taught my class wearing a pair of pants that I hadn’t worn since the day I found out Noah died—they were the pants I was wearing at the ultrasound.
There’s more…I’ve been reflecting on how it just doesn’t really seem to have a stopping point, but it is past time to put my kids to bed, so this is all for now.