Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Being in public is not something I should have done today. Every other person I saw today had a baby close to your age. I drove by women wearing slings with perfectly shaped tiny heads peeking out. Strollers rolled past as carefree as could be, and shopping carts holding precious cargo lingered a little too long, a little too near. I want to be these people but I do not want to see them, but I need to see them so that I have an idea of where we would be if you had stayed here. I look at the babies because I want to see what you would be doing now Frost. It's hard for me to pin-point your milestones. I have to look to others and guess at what new challenge you would be mastering right about now. When would you smile, when would you push yourself up, when would you sit? Never.
At the very beginning of my day today, right before waking, I was like these people. I dreamt that I was in the hospital and there was a beautiful baby with new eyes looking at me. There was a nurse I didn't recognize and she handed the child to me. I fed the baby my first milk and everything was good. I felt a great comfort. Then I woke, at that moment I still felt the comfort, I told your Daddy about it before I left to go out into the public. On the drive, I spent most of my time looking at the moon rather than the road, the comfort stayed with me. I arrived to my destination and began to busy myself with work. And then I felt the comfort leave me. It was a powerful rip, it tore away from me and sobs spilled out between the work and the memory of the recent dream. So soon the beautiy of it was replaced by a reality so harsh and unfair. All I wanted was in that dream and knowing it wasn't real took me down. This is why the public is hard for me. If I had stayed in bed I would have stayed with the comfort. With you.
I don't think that when people see me they know what's going on inside of me. Even when my eyes are dark and stained from tears, I don't think that people see the real struggle unless they too have been touched by the cold of death's hollow fingers. This empty hopelessness is what we are left with when our loved ones are taken. Oh, sweet baby I hope with all my heart that where you are what you are feeling is the complete opposite of this. I need you to be filled with a fullness so beautiful that it shines from your eyes and jumps from your voice. Today would have been a perfect day for holding you. Someday I want to do this forever.
My cry is changing, it's not the same as it was at first. It's becomeing more familiar, it has become a part of me.
Night, night Frost
Mama loves you.


  1. Oh Jessica. Sometimes you say exactly what I'm feeling. ((hugs))