The 13 Clocks

I'm going to start reading a new book today, Frost. I have a feeling it will be magical. I have a feeling that it will make my view of things change. It is a book for children and its copyright date is 1950. The illustrations are dated, so much so that they are popular again. I like looking at images that were created by the stroke of a brush rather than the click of a mouse. I was so excited today when I found this book, it was one I had been searching for. It was one I knew that I wanted to read to you and your sister. When I read it will you come sit next to me and listen to my mind? I want you to read it with me. I want to hear your little voice ask questions about the beauty of the Princess. I want to see your little nose crinkle at the thought of the evil Duke. As I look at each page I want you to give me your interpretation of the words. I want to read it as if I were still young. And I want you to help me do it. I want to read it with innocence. I want to believe the nonsense portrayed by the characters. I want to be carried into the fantasy world and live there for a little while, like I remember doing when I was a child. Books still carry me away, but not the same way they did when I was first discovering books. Could you take me there? I think that it would help me feel as though I were a part of something. Something shared with you. I think that being a little disconnected with my reality would bring me closer to you since you are no longer my reality. The memory of what could have been is all that I have here. I want to go where what could have been still can be. My book will take me there with you, just for a little while.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Shhhhhhhhh...

A few years ago, I can't remember how many, I went to the library and came across a book. I was browsing in the over-sized section and read the title on one of the books spines. It said Sleeping Beauties, so I pulled it off the shelf and opened it. At the time I was shocked, I began turning the pages and found myself looking at photograph after photograph of dead people. These were old photos, probably from around the turn of the century. The people were dressed nicely and many of them were posed on chairs as if they were living. In some there were entire families posed together, I'm assuming they had died from the same illness. Looking at these images I began to feel horrible, I felt a quiver inside of my chest and kept shaking my head to try and ease some of its confusion. But I looked longer, too long I think. The pictures that were the hardest for me to take in were those of children and infants. I began to realize then why the people were posed and dressed so well. It was because most of them had probably never had their picture taken before, cameras were not common items then. This was their only chance to keep the face of their loved ones in the physical world. Their last reminder. I still did not like that I had seen those photos. I felt like I was invading a sacred place, I felt like I was intruding upon a place of mourning. I did not belong there. I closed the book and returned it to the shelf.
Once when I went to the library while I was pregant with you Frost, I found myself in the vacinity of that book. I kept my eyes lowered so that I would not be able to see if it was there on the shelf. I had a vague memory of the pictures in my head and I did not want to see the babies again, not ever, especially not while you were inside of me. I turned and walked away. A month or two later we were told that you had died. We had to go home to get ready for the delivery and to be alone for a bit. Your Daddy and his Mom began talking about having pictures of you taken, and I panicked. Other family members started to say that it would be good, they thought that it would help us afterward. I did not know what to think, but I knew that it would be our only chance, we were just like those people in the book. Pictures were taken.
When I look at your photos I do not have the same feeling of dread as I did before. Now I feel a calm. I study your face and try to find us in you. I see beauty in the miracle that you were, and I know that this is what those families so long ago were holding on to and wanting to share. Their pictures do not haunt me anymore. They bring me a peace. They are an affirmation of the love that made life. Family.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Curtain Peeker

I had a doctor's appointment today. It's a little hard to go to the office because that is where we first learned that you didn't have a heart beat. I go there and sit, they don't make me wait very long. I like my doctor, she answers my worries, she is real. I ask her about being pregnant again. If it will be safe, we have to see what the tests say. There will be precautions taken no matter what. We know things now. I tell her that we will wait until our hearts are ready. But I should ask you Frost. I should ask you if it is okay if I have another baby. You should have a say whether or not we hold another little life. I hope you know that if the time arrives when my belly is full again that your place with us is safe. Your life changed our lives in so many ways. You touched us more than anyone else could. I think I'll know that when my heart is ready that means that you have said, "Okay, it's okay you need a baby, I'll send you the perfect one."
I have always been one to look out of windows. I'm just drawn to them. I would stare out of the glass at birds, neighbors and falling rain. I could spot stranger cats chasing down baby rabbits, and neighborhood kids hitting eachother and laughing. I would look out the window and see things that needed to change, but I never went outside to tend to the things myself. I left things the way they were or waited for someone else to fix it. I always watch from behind the glass. When you left us Frost, you left a door open. I'm pretty sure that your Mama is getting ready to walk through it.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Hopefully Recurring

I had a dream one night not to long ago, your Daddy was in the dream. In the dream he shaved his beard, after he shaved it I saw his face, it was him but his smile was different and then the rest of his face changed. It was a boy's face, a boy I hadn't seen before, but I knew the face. I was so comfortable with the new face I saw. The boy was a teenager. I've dreamt of people I have never met or seen before and I always wonder where do they come from? How does my mind create these images for my nighttime self? I try to think of different people I know and put their faces together in new combinations. I think maybe my mind likes to blend what I like from strangers into new people who will never exist. I have dreamt of hundreds of makebelieve strangers throughout my life, some of them I kind of remember and others I wouldn't have recalled ten minutes after waking. But the smiling boy I saw in my sleep, I don't think he was a stranger at all. I think that that face came from Jessica and George. A mother and father who stumbled into a dream and woke up without a baby. The dream I had that night was a gift. I don't know if it was a gift from you Frost, or if I gave it to myself. I will never forget the face I saw through closed eyes. He was just what I expected.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Years

Tonight was hard. I was hugging your sister good night and she has started calling me "Mom". No more "Mamma" or "Mommy". She is getting older. This gives me a bit of an ache. I laid down with her for awhile and started thinking about baby Hadley. She took her first breath and felt our kisses and answered our love. We saw her eyes smile as she introduced herself to the world. I thought about one year old Hadley, she was so curious and gentle as she took her first steps. We saw her little feet begin their dance with the world. I thought about two year old Hadley, her toddler language would confuse and thrill us at the same time. We heard her begin her great dialog with the world. I thought about three year old Hadley, she began preschool this year and created priceless works of art for us. We saw her paint the world. I thought about four year old Hadley, she fell in love for the first time with a little boy, pure love. We saw her open her heart to the world. I thought about five year old Hadley, she began to read words, then sentences, then paragraphs. We saw her write her story to the world. I thought about six year old Hadley, her ideas and creativity blossomed. We saw her passions run through the world. I thought about seven year old Hadley, she learned about you, she became a big sister. We saw her carry the weight of the world. These seven years with Hadley have given us a joy that can never be taken away by time. How I wanted to have these years with you Frost, but time has already taken this away from us. Your years will be spent in Heaven away from us and the only thing I can do is imagine what would have been if you had stayed here for Hadley's eighth year.
I thought about one year old Frost and he was an Angel, we felt him smile down at the world.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Quiet Story

I have a book that I love, it is from my childhood. It is a short little paperback picture book. It is called Bear By Himself. Bear is an enchanting little character who never talks he just is. He has always calmed me, he is so content with what he has. He is by himself throughout the entire book. Through rain and night, sunshine and thinking, he is alone and he is happy with that. I admire him for this. When I am alone I feel speed up and a little lost, I cannot catch my way. I feel it more now, like I am missing something dear, something that I need. Of course that is you Frost, I have felt it before but never like now. Bear seems to have found a way to find his something within himself. I need to learn to do this, but right now I can't even find the door to my heart. I know that when I do find it it will not be locked, it will open for me. I just have to find my way through a maze that a very curious gardener has planted around me. I am sure that you are at the center of my maze and have already entered the door. When I get there with you, being alone will be nice. I wanted to read Bear By Himself to you. I know that you would be the kind of boy who could find your true self on a rainy day in a mud puddle. I think I will read it to you. Just listen for the quiet, okay.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Daddy's Dream

Your Daddy had to start back to work this weekend, Frost. It's been hard for him, going back to where he was before you died. He wakes up too early for work. He used to wake up at 3:00am now he wakes up at 1:00am and cannot sleep again. He thinks of you and his mom. And then he has to drive in the dark. That time alone I'm sure is filled with so much pain. He won't tell me about it because he knows I will cry. He tells me about some of the hard times he has at work but I know that he keeps so much of it to himself. He's trying to protect your mama, Frost. His pain is doubled, he lost the woman who brought him into the world, the woman who nurtured and created his own infant self. And he lost you, the infant who he learned to love through the loving attention of his mother. Frost could you please give your Daddy a sweet dream tonight so that he won't wake up too early. A dream with you in it, because I know that if he could hold you again, even in a dream, he could find some peace. Especially if you could smile for him for the first time.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Clouds and Cathedrals

I have never seen the ocean, so I cannot tell you about it Frost. I have never flown in a plane, I do not know how it feels to be in the air. I have not been in a castle or walked the Great Wall of China. I have never experienced any of these miracles and yet I exist in the same world as they do. I am closer to these things physically than I can ever be to you again, but I do not know them the way that I know you. You are my heart. Someday maybe I'll see the ocean or walk in the rainforest, but all the beauty in this world won't compare to the day that I can see you again. I wish that I could make a place that would fill my heart up when I entered it the way that I know holding you alive and safe would. I wish that I could find you in trees and sculptures and clouds and cathedrals, but I cannot. I tried. Maybe in the short time since you left us you have done and seen all of the things I have not. Maybe somehow you could bring them to me and show me how to find beauty in them. How to find you.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The Cardinal and the Foolish Girl

Frost, I've noticed that since we lost you everything that meant something to me before has changed its meaning. The songs that first made me long for a loving boyfriend now make me dream of my sleeping son. The poetry I remember reading when I was a teenager, those words all lead my mind to you now. You have become "The Road Not Taken" and an "Ode to a Nightingale". The red bird I saw singing in the woods on the tip-top of the tallest tree one spring morning when I was younger than eight, well now I think that bird was singing of you. I've always wondered why seeing the cardinal that one time stayed with me all of these years and now I know. I can still feel that day. It was early, I had spent the night at my cousin's house in the country and had woken before her. I wandered out of the back door and walked to the north side of the house. I sat down in a patch of green cool clover and picked at the foliage. I remember the feeling of the morning, it was crisp and new. The day was welcoming me, it was asking me to be a part of the world that morning. I answered by looking out into the woods and seeing the glow of the sun wake the leaves of the trees. It was golden time, that's what I've always called this time of day, and I smiled. After the day recognized me, it sent a messenger to ask me to play. The reddest bird called to me, from the edge of the clouds as if he were saying "We see you Jessica, and we know that you see us, now let's see if you can catch us before we catch you!" I remember trying to make the same sound as the cardinal. I trilled "Cree-eee, Cree-eee!" He answered back in agreement. I wonder what I said to him that day, I wonder if I made a deal that I could not take back. I think maybe I promised to give the sky the most beautiful gift to ever fly from cloud to cloud, my tiny angel.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

When You Would Have Been Three

Frost, I want to start telling you happy stories. It's hard to know how to start doing this without ending up crying. So I will just start telling you about the things in our life that I think you would have liked. We have cats, two twin black and white kittens and one stripey old cat. I think that you would have cuddled and played with them. I think that you would have pulled their tails when you were two and that they would have scratched you. You would have cried and gotten mad at the cats and I would give you a hug and a band-aid. We have a dog too, he is a big yellow lab, he is crazy. I have a feeling that you would have been the only one to tame him. I think that he would have just listened to you and that you would have been best friends and everyone else would have been amazed. When you would have been three people would say "where is the dog?" and then I would reply "He's with his best friend of course", and then we would all look and see you using his furry back for a pillow and his tail for a sword. We have nice soft blankets here, and I know that you would have loved to be cozy in them. I think that the little blue and white one would have been your favorite. Your sister is here, she loves you so much. She sent you a balloon on Saturday. I'm pretty sure she would have shared her toys with you, although she would only want you to have the ones she had decided were too babyish. Mostly stuffed animals, your favorite would have been her favorite from when she was a baby, a little wooly mammoth named Woolsly. In Hadley's room there are 6 prisms hanging in her windows. When the winter sun shines in her room each day, rainbows of all different shapes and sizes dance around her room. I spin them and then we lay on her bed and watch the colors race across her walls and ceiling. I would have set you there when you were new, we would have watched your new eyes discover the world. And when you would have been four I would watch you run in her room yourself, strong and silly and laughing as you tried to catch rainbows.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

A Month

Your Daddy had Daddy eyes again. A month ago I saw them in the hospital room. The first time I saw his Daddy eyes we were also in a hospital room. In a room seven years ago his eyes changed the minute he saw your sister. I loved that change in his eyes, they were the happiest I had ever seen his eyes. They softened and reflected the birth of true love. While you were in my belly Frost I was looking so forward to see what your Daddy's eyes would do when you were born. Knowing that you were a boy, I was sure that a great look of pride would have accompanied the love. I couldn't wait for you to come so he could look at you with his Daddy eyes.
When you arrived unable to look into your Daddy's eyes, I saw the love come out of his own eyes again. This time that love was coupled with a sadness so overwhelming that he had to cover his Daddy eyes. The tears blurred my view of him and of you, but I know that they would not let me forget. I know that his Daddy eyes gazed into your soul that day, because the twinkles I see in his eyes now I have named Hadley and Frost.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The Sleeping Garden

This summer there were many fairy rings in our yard. Mushrooms popped through the earth in ringlets of white. I am afraid that I took them lightly and may have crossed the boundaries of one or two. I thought of the stories I had read as a child and remembered the legend that warned of these rings in the grass. The folklore surrounding the fairy rings labeled them as a place of danger and that one who entered would become cursed. The form that the curse took varied from tale to tale. The tradition I remembered the most was that people who stepped into the ring were said to die at a very young age, or go into the fairy land and loose time and memory. I feel as though I may have caused both of these to happen to us. Frost you have died far too young, as young as one can die. And I have lost so much time with you, and new memories of you can never grow for me. I feel as though the world I live in now has changed. It looks the same, but I will never see it in the same light. Some may call it silly to believe that such an act could have anything to do with loosing you, but I look to every possible reason that you may be gone. The idea that the spirits of nature may have taken you away to their sleeping garden is a notion that romances my mind when logic can no longer humor me. Despite the air of danger about this legend, there is something beautiful about the thought of the earth taking back what it has created. You have followed the path of so many before you Frost, and from this path great stories have been born.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Pietà

For years I have been drawn to Michelangelo's Pieta. I would find myself lost in photos of the sculpture for hours when I should have been studying other works of art. I would compare how I saw my own features to those of the Madonna. Her downcast eyes were so beautiful to me. Pain seemed to radiate from her body. But her pain was not one of hopelessness to me, it seemed more like an expression of love. A love felt so deeply, that when her son's lifeless body was set upon her lap they seemed to become one. The sacrifice that they both made released the two bodies from their earthly ties and bound them forever in the truest of bonds; the love between a mother and child. The peace on each of their faces is what I want for us, Frost. Mary cradled her grown son as an infant, with the knowledge that the loss had a meaning beyond tears. I need to find our meaning.
Today, on your day, the day we expected you, I felt the urge to look at the Pieta again. I hadn't for so long, but today I needed to. I found a calm peace in it.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Swing Songs

When I was a child I remember playing in the backyard. We had a swingset there and I remember swinging there alone on many occassions. Sometimes I would swing high and fast, trying to fly. Other times I would just kind of dangle and sway forward and backward, digging my toes into the dirt. And at times I would twist the swing to its limit and then let it spin out without control. That was my favorite. I would play outside for hours, but what I remember most was how I would sing as I played. I remember sitting on the swing staring at the building next to our house, it was old and made of stone. I remember looking at those stones and the day ending in the sky behind the golden roughness of the crumbling wall. I watched the clouds and the sun mingle in the west in shades of pink and russet, and under this I would make up little songs. I would sing to nobody and be happy there by myself. I don't remember the words I gave to the songs, but I know that there were words and that those words were my words. I can't remember the sound of the voice I sang in. I know that my voice was true, I know that it was a child's voice. I think that I sang about love, I remember having that feeling about me. Love found and love lost, for sometimes my songs were sad and other times they were joyous.
I sang there during every season. Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. Each part of the year heard my call. I think the Earth listened to me when I was a child. Frost, maybe where ever you are the Earth saved my songs for you. Maybe you can hear the me that was eight years old singing of a life yet to come. Maybe my songs were a gift from the children I had not met yet. Maybe the colors in the resting sky were you and your sister playing and waiting for your time to come to us. And maybe now you have returned to be the most brilliant beam of light forever playing on the horizon, just waiting to hear the lullaby of a child.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Footprints

This morning as I looked from my bedroom window I saw a new set of footprints in the snow. I tried to decide what kind of prints they were. The prints ran in a very straight line and traveled between our row of apple trees and up to the back of our house. The prints were small and close together. I thought that they might be those of a cat, but I'm not for sure. The path that they follow makes no sense. I do not understand where these prints lead or what purpose they serve. They will be part of our home for only as long as the cold lets them. They will disappear when the sun's rising heat gives birth to the spring. I can't even see them right now in the darkness. They are empty pits pushed into something so temporary. Really, they are nothing. And yet I noticed them, I will remember them. After they are obscured by time I will never see them again.
You, Frost will be a part of us forever. You are stronger than the footprints. The sun cannot outshine your impression. The wind will not collapse your beauty. Time will not erase the love that flew from us to you, every day and every night after you were here. I will do more than remember you baby, I will live for you.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

A Kite in the Sky

Tonight riding in the car, Hadley looked up and noticed the Big Dipper. She said "Look there's a kite in the sky." I said "Where?" and she told me "in the stars." I looked and saw the Big Dipper. I then told her that it was called the Big dipper and she said "Oh yeah, I remember now". We talked more about the stars and decided that in the springtime we are going to spread out an old blanket and stargaze. This makes me happy. The stars have always brought me peace. I watched and wondered at them constantly when I was younger. Your Grandpa and I were connected through these heavenly bodies, Frost. We watched the sky together and found friendship there. After he died, I looked to the night sky often and found solace. Your sister and I will now do this together. Just like so many before us, we will look to the stars for answers. I will teach her what I have learned and I will listen to her innocent wisdom.
Your sister hasn't cried yet Frost. I worry for her, I know that inside she is confused and hurting. She tells me that she wants to cry but her eyes won't let the tears come yet. Maybe she is like the night, only letting a few stars fall when they are ready. I am waiting for her meteor shower.

Falling Stars

Do you remember still the falling stars

that like swift horses through the heavens raced

and suddenly leaped across the hurdles

of our wishes - do you recall?

And we did make so many!

For there were countless numbers of stars:

each time we looked above we were

astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,

while in our hearts we felt safe and secure

watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,

knowing somehow we had survived their fall.

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Phantom Kicks

I can feel them from time to time. When I lay down they jumpstart my memory; little movements in the night. These phantom kicks bring you back to me for a moment. I know that it's not you Frost, because I felt them after Hadley was born also. But if I let my mind wander I get that time back. That time that was such a short distance from now was a time of happiness for me. I hope that it was for you too. How will I ever know?
Since you died inside of me, I have wondered many things. Mostly, I have wondered if my womb is haunted by your little soul. I'm scared to even mention it, but it crosses my mind daily. Houses become haunted by those who cannot move on. You never lived in a house you only lived in my body. Did you move on to a new place, or have you remained with me? I know that a part of you has stayed with my thoughts. I wonder if I am ever pregnant again, if your spirit will keep the new baby company. Will you help to keep your little brother or sister strong? Your beauitful soul is good and I want you to be where you are happiest. Where you can grow and shine. I want you to be protected. I want you to be free.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Grandma

Frost, last night you met your Grandma. Your Daddy's mother came to be with you. Her name is Marsha, so listen for her name. She will listen for yours. Your name will make it easy for her to find you. You are probably the only baby Frost there. She will find you and hold you again like she did after you were born. She will hold you for us and she will be strong again. Her body on earth was so tired. She needed to leave it, and find a peace. She needed to find a world where she could be whole in herself again. She will bring you our love and you will tell her all of your baby secrets. Your hearts will beat again. They will beat together in a place where we cannot hear the beautiful sound of a long lost love found again. She will sing you to sleep the same way she sang to your Daddy when he was a child. She will rock you on a cloud and hush away your cries with the rustle of her newly spread wings. You will be gifts to eachother, and you will never be alone. She left in the middle of the night just like you did. The dark and the winter took you both away from us. You both went up while the snow came down. Tell her that we are missing her, tell her that our world has changed. Smile for her.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

My Locket

Lucy Locket lost her pocket,

Kitty Fisher found it;

Nothing in it, nothing in it,

But the binding round it.

Mother Goose

I have a locket Frost. Your Grandma gave it to me on Christmas Eve. It is silver and your name is engraved on it. It is my treasure. Since you did not stay with us, it was not very difficult to decide what to fill it with. I filled it with the only part of you I have. It's not a picture of you that rests within my necklace, nor is it a lock of your hair. It is something you gave to us the last time we said goodbye to your tiny swaddled body. We spent a long time, that last time, examining every bit of you. Your Daddy and I took turns touching your face and memorizing your features. We said that you were perfect but somehow your life was eclipsed by something we will never understand. We unwrapped you a little and held your hand, we gave you kisses goodbye and tried to make ourselves leave. We sat longer and held eachother. I kissed your forehead once more. The pressure from my lips caused a bit of blood to drip from your nose. I took a tissue and wiped it from your skin. I let out a little cry, your Daddy said "Keep it", so I folded it and placed it in my purse. We left a little while after, empty armed and lost.

The next week after your Grandma gave the locket to me, your Daddy and I went to our room. We went straight to the drawer where I was keeping the tissue. I sat on the bed and tore the white tissue away from your blood, our blood. It fit just right inside of the locket. You are safe now.

Lucy Locket lost her pocket,

Kitty Fisher found it;

Nothing in it, nothing in it

But the binding round it.

There will always be you, inside of me Frost, no matter how lost I feel.

Night, night Frost

Mama loves you.

Play dates

I have learned something Frost. After you died, I learned that there are other babies like you. Babies who had to leave their earth homes too soon. I have met the mothers of some of these babies. We have become friends. As friends, we decided to light candles for each of our babies. Tonight I did this. As I lit the candle, I placed my fingers around the holder and stared into the flame. I let my eyes dwell there for a moment, and began to talk to the babies we were honoring tonight. I told them that you were my baby, I told them that your name was Frost and that they should go and find you. I told them that you were where they were. I told them that their Mommies are beautiful and that they love them and that it was okay for them to play with you. The more I talked to the babies, the more my tears began to gather. I didn't wipe my tears away, and my vision began to blur. I continued staring at the candle's flame and through my tears it started rising higher. The light was growing and moving. I watched it flicker and pull with the intake of my breath. I saw the flame change its shape. And I swear that the light took on the form of a heart. At that, I closed my eyes and let their fullness fall down my cheeks and kiss the edges of my smile. I was smiling because I knew that my baby now has the most wonderful new friends. I know that you have found eachother.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

I'm sorry

I missed you last night. I didn't tell you a story. I went to sleep and didn't get up and write to you. I felt horrible all day, there was extra sadness today. I promise you and me that I won't miss our time together again. I need it and I believe that you do also. I do think about you constantly Frost. I dreamt this morning, I haven't for a while. I think there may have been a baby in this dream, I can't quite remember. I'll try to dream again.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Milky Way

The wind is blowing so strong now outside my window. There is more snow and the cold is growing. It is very late and dark, I have a candle lit. All is quiet now except for the rush of the wind and a few creeks in the walls. In this kind of quiet certain feelings make themselves known to me. The first time these feelings came to me I was a teenager listening to music alone in my room. I remember looking into the space around me and feeling the hold of nothing. I was embraced by the realization that what I had at that moment could be the end. That if my life were to be lost right at that time, I would fall into something unknown. I used to think about this idea all the time. What would nothing be, if I died and didn't continue? How could that happen? When we are alive there is so much to see and experience. How could that just end?
I no longer believe that an ending is what happens when someone dies. There is too much in the mind, just to be erased. I think now that what happens is more of a transformation, but maybe the living just don't recognize what that transformation is because we are not supposed to. Maybe that's what life is for, to get us ready for our transformation. If that is so, I don't understand how a baby who died before he saw the world could be ready to change. Were you an "old soul" Frost? Did you already have what you needed to become what we don't know.
I wish that you knew the world like I did, but maybe you knew it better. I just don't know.

I do know that my body still believes that you are here. My milk has not gone away yet. It wants to nourish your body. The little life that came out of me. In the morning my breasts will feel the cool damp of fabric as your food leaves me. My insides keep making more, I think because my longing to bring you back is so strong. I will ache when it goes away forever. It will make the distance between your birth and the now to come much too far. Oh Frost, I hope that you know from where you are how much we love you, I hope that somehow you have carried our love with you and let it keep you warm when our arms cannot. The warmth will radiate from you like light, like the light of a star. Maybe you have become a star. A star watching the world with the most innocent eyes.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Our Flood

Frost we found out that you were coming to us on May 16, 2009. On that day there was a flood. The rain was fat and fast and never-ending. The clouds were so full, and they parked themselves over our town. We came home and the power was out. I went upstairs to weave by the window before too much darkness settled in. As I sat there working the yarn like the three fates, I thought about creation and I remembered the test I had waiting in the bathroom. I thought to myself, I should do it now that way I would always remember the day I found out that my baby was on the way. I took it and breathed deep as the lines came up positive. The strong Spring storm would be such a grand memory for us.
I walked around the house keeping the wonderful news to myself for about one hour. I was smiling while everyone else was angry about the rising water in the basement. We had flashlights ready and candles prepared for the night, so I knew I had to tell soon before there wasn't enough light to show the test to our family. First I brought your Daddy upstairs and showed him. I saw his face turn to bliss as he realized that you were already on your way to us. We then decided to go ahead and tell your sister, she jumped and screamed for joy, she had wanted to be a sister for years. For her patience, we decided that she should tell your Grandma. When Hadley did tell her, I could tell that the news of you was so unexpected. Your Grandma worries about things, and I think we shocked her into a worry. But then her eyes softened in the dimming light, she knew that a baby would be good.
The rain continued on and on. It still does, only now the drops pour from our eyes. Our eyes are as full as the clouds were that day and our sobs are as loud as the thunder. The flood became our flood and it has filled my body with something I can't control. I can't remember now if there was a rainbow outside in the sky on that stormy day, but I know that there was one in my heart and in my future. The Spring is my best time.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The Fawn

This spring and summer, when I was first carrying you inside of me, there was a baby deer that visited our yard often. He was always alone, no parents watched as he edged ever closer to our home. We thought he came to drink from the plastic baby pool we had filled for our yellow lab to swim in. It looked as though he drank from the pool and fed at the bird feeders, but I am not sure anymore if that was the real reason behind the rare sightings. He would watch us as we admired him, he was nature at its most beautiful. He would watch and walk slowly, look back and then run. We saw him several more times, until the last time. The last time I saw him he bolted right up the middle of the road toward the highway, after that the summer showed us our fawn no more. I worried and then forgot, until now.
Was our fawn really you, little Frost? A baby who wandered too far from his parents. Lost and alone, seen only by those who could not guide you. Or was the animal your spirit guide and when you felt him run you decided to run too. To run across the road to see what was beyond. To know things before those who created you would know. Is that what you desired? I wish I knew what you know now. For I am sure that it is peace. I believe that I saw a bit of that peace in the fawn's endless brown eyes. Before he ran I looked into them and it was like his eyes were telling me "I am going to race the wind now, watch me."
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

Pictures I Will Never Have

Today I felt panic at the possibility of my memories fading. I had to look at your pictures, they made me cry but I had to see you again. I had to make myself imagine that you were only sleeping in them. They told us at the hospital that your eyes were brown, I believe them, even though I didn't see you open them. I saw your smile in one of the ultrasound pictures, but I don't know if you had your Daddy's dimple. Your hair was lighter than we thought it would be and it may have been curly. Your mouth was so tiny and it reminded me of the little Putti in Renaissance frescos. Raphael must have known you would be a baby angel long ago, and so he put you in his paintings.
So soon, I am faced with the fact that I will never know what your face would become. I see older boys, preschoolers, teenagers, young men, and I can't help but wonder which ones you would have looked the most like. I catch myself staring at strangers. I look into your sister's face for long moments while she sleeps and try to find you there. Her baby pictures make me cry now because in some of them I try to pretend that she is a boy. Oh Frost, I wish that I could dream of you every night and that each dream would be a day of your life. I wish that I could watch you grow and change while I sleep since I can't have you here. I wish that I could watch you from afar. I would be okay with that, everything would be okay if I could see you.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.

The spot in the woods

I wonder if you saw me the day after I came home from the hospital. I woke up at 7:00, and I couldn't go back to sleep. Every morning now I wake up at 7:00 and can't go back to sleep. On the first day after I woke up, before the snow came. I had to be outside. No one else was around to make me stay put. I went out the front door for what I thought would be a short, cold walk. I started out along the road, already with tears blistering my face. And my eyes kept turning toward the tree line past the cornfield, so I took my first step off of the road and into the harvested rows. I stomped through the frozen mounds of uneven soil looking toward the fallen trees, they had died too. When I reached the open canopy the wind stopped and I felt the quiet.
I walked in deeper past branches and ditches, crunching through leaves spent on the ground. I was alone and I screamed for you Frost, I could yell.
I called and called and waited for a sign. I felt the quiet again and calmed myself with it. I walked on and came to a very shallow creek, half frozen and sad. I sat down and I watched it flow under ice, just like you grew within my shell. It reminded me of my childhood, the creek and the sloping sides of earth that bordered it. It reminded me of the time I was lost, it soothed me because I knew that I had found my place again. I stood up and started to walk again, I began humming but I knew that the sound wasn't right for you. I wanted to sing to you in those woods. Something old, something eternal, something that only the trees and you could hear. But I couldn't find your song that day. I didn't want to leave those trees because I think that I could feel you there. I was warmer, I was part of it. I talked to my Dad that day too. Your Grandpa. I asked him if he had you, if you were with him. I asked him if he needed somebody there with him, wherever the two of you went. And then two hawks flew low and echoed their high, long calls through the branches. I walked away wondering if the song I was searching for had just been sung to me. I will visit you there again, when I know your song.
Night, night Frost,
Mama loves you.

Poems

I wrote this in October. I wrote this poem to you.

To Frost

If I didn't know you

before the sun,

my eyes wouldn't

shine as bright.

If I didn't see you

before the sea,

my tears wouldn't

be as true.

If I didn't hear you

before the birds,

my song wouldn't

sweeten the wind.

If I didn't paint you

before the sky,

the sunsets would

all be blue.

If I didn't dream you

before the night,

the stars would

fall from the sky.

If I didn't have you

before my heart,

I wouldn't know love at all.

And If I didn't feel

your tiny hand

holding on to mine,

the World would stop

and ask me...

"What happened to our friend?"

Oh sweet baby, I had no idea then what this would mean to me now. I remember crying deep tears after I wrote it and feeling strange. I meant for it to be a happy poem, but after I wrote it I felt such sorrow. You have been with me all along, now I just know what I'm missing.

I wrote another poem down that same day while we were waiting for your sister. But now I think that the second poem was from you to me.

I'll leave a light on for you

and call it the Moon.

Through tree tops in Winter

you'll see it shine.

And remember.

It will light your way to me

with the softest glow.

The kind that warms

Autumn's early chill.

My light will guide your feet,

like those of a child.

Whispering through the cushion

of Summer-soft grass.

In the Springtime,

it will show you

the place in your heart

where a home has grown.

Look up,

my light is smiling at you.

I'll leave a light on for you

and call it the Moon.

Follow it back to me.

Thank you Baby, for giving me so many places to look for you. I'll find you someday. This New Year there was a Blue Moon, the first one in decades.

Night, night Frost. Mama loves you.