Friday, April 23, 2010

A quick discussion question about baby loss.

I forget what Joel looked like.

I have pictures, I can remember him from those.

But sometimes, just trying to remember him laying there, I don't remember his features. Just his hair & a small tear on the right side of his cheek.

I try to tell myself I don't really remember Jules, but that's a lie. I remember what he looked like in the hospital & as he grew. My memory, it's freaky like that.

Even his pictures are different than I remember. We got the hospital pictures first, which I'd looked forward to getting since we took no pictures ourselves. When I opened them, they were kinda upsetting to me. He looked...well, he looked not alive. I didn't think he looked that bad in person. I questioned if the pictures were bad or if I didn't really notice how he may have really looked in person.

He looks better in some shots from the photographer. Tonight, while going through things, I happened upon the envelope I don't think we opened again since getting them in...the hospital pictures. Looking now, I don't think they look bad at all. I think my memories of him, made in person, were biased based on the fact that I wanted a perfect, beautiful baby. He didn't get a chance to be everything he could have been, even at delivery, because even cleaning him up well could have hurt him. And now I sit here, suddenly liking the hospital pictures that once disturbed me. It's weird, very weird. I think it's taken this time to come to terms with my exact memories of him weren't perfect, like I said I was biased, so seeing him look anything different that quickly after sent me for a loop. After a year almost, I guess it's easier to understand.

But anyway...is any of this normal? I feel like I should have every moment we spent with him burnt into my memory. I remember everyone else, how everyone else looked & what everyone else did. I remember having sweet and sour sauce with my chicken strips that night. The kitchen just made me chicken strips & fries, but they tried to fancy it up as much as they could. I appreciated that, being told who you had to make something for must have sucked for them.

This is an ambien induced line of thinking. I hope I remember this in the morning.

6 comments:

  1. I think this is normal... or at least I hope it's normal. I can't remember much of anything when I had Ian. (I blame it on the morphine) I still won't look at some of the hospital pictures because he looks too... dead. Some of them he looks like he could be sleeping, but in others its very obvious that he was too small to be alive.

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  2. I'm also hoping it's normal. I also feel as though I should be able to remember every single moment with pin point precision. But my memories of that time are like a sequence of photographs themselves. I can remember lots of very detailed images but they are always static, like freeze frames. If that makes any sense?

    And some of the details are very sharp. Like the tear you describe on Joel's cheek, I have an equivalent image.

    Sometimes when I look at those pictures I can't bear it and they don't look like I remember her at all. And at other times she looks just as beautiful in those few photographs as I thought she did.

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  3. Firsts and for most – sorry Losing someone so special in your life wont be easy to forget. It’s not like the files in your computers that could be infected by McAfee virus and been deleted unexpectedly. In this case, losing a baby is just like losing half of your life. I wish you could recover and always keep the happy memories alive. Remember that your baby is now your angel so don’t be sad.

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  4. When it comes to grief and loss, pretty much anything is normal.

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  5. dorothygaleislostApril 25, 2010 at 8:26 PM

    Over the past two years - it has gone from a video loop in my head.... to what just seems like little snap shots.... I can't remember his smell.... I can't remember how his skin felt..... Just still feel this huge pain in the middle of my heart.

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  6. I remember how cold his hands felt. I tried to keep them warm. And just typing that memory brings tears.

    I still think those chicken strips & fries were the best things ever. As people came into my room & cried over the baby, I munched on fries & chicken with various sauces. I'm happy they gave me something else to focus on.

    I lost a baby I didn't know. I don't know what there is to miss. So instead I miss the thoughts I'd had in my head as he grew. The thoughts of the boys playing all the way up to them bringing "the one" girl home & how that'd interaction play out. I miss things that may have never happened. It's like a double whammy...I miss something, then I realize it was never real anyway.

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