Thursday, May 14, 2009

Sigh

I'm still debating on the deletion thing. Mostly I just don't want cruel people to have access to my personal thoughts, and I don't want people who can't constructively talk to me in real life to get the privelege of knowing what's going on with me. With family like this, who needs enemies? Sigh.

Anyway, that's not why I'm writing now. Last night Simone had a teary night. Sometimes she is upset about something else, and it turns into her being sad about Myles. Her pain over Myles generally grows out of a general feeling of shittiness for her, and I totally get it. Last night was different though. We were laying next to each other as I tried to get her to wind down and she said she had a lump in her throat. Usually the crying isn't crying like when she gets hurt (feelings or otherwise) it's a little more dramatic, somewhat forced. Her crying about Myles has always been that way. Last night, though, she really got swept up in tears like I haven't seen.

I think it was good for her. She doesn't see me cry like I once use to. When I cried last night as we were talking about what we had wanted for Myles, I could tell the sense of reciprocity and her ability to empathize and comfort really gives her a sense of mastery. Her compassion is unparalleled.

Okay, but teary nights we've had. What I have never heard her say before is what's been bouncing around my head:

'Mom, I just knowed it was going to happen. I tried to just act normal and smile, but I just knowed he was going to die.'

?! huh ?!

Simone will be 6 in August, is just finishing up her first year of Kindergarten. Kids grow so damn fast. When I told her she was three when we learned about my pregnancy, and we celebrated her 4th bday when I was very much prego, it blew us both away to contemplate how little she was, how long ago it was. She has grown so much since he died. She loves to play this game, how old would Myles be (or would he have been). So she'll say, When I'm 8, how old would Myles have been. She'll go up into their teens and 20's. It's so sad.

So watching Simone develop, and watching her understand her loss more deeply as she ages has really given me some insight. I know lots of women who have felt they've had a premonition. Hell, I look back and even B has looked back and said (because of x, y, and z) we knew something, even though we didn't KNOW. It makes me wonder if going back, and giving more weight to the fears and anxieties we felt during the pregnancy, is part of being human. I don't think anyone can know, but I think we have this inclination as humans to go back and make sense of the events in our lives. We create forshadowing in the aftermath. We tell some story in our minds leading up to whatever terrible life altering event we've been through, that makes sense like a book makes sense. I think perhaps it gives us some sense of control in a world where we really have no control. Where do psychic beliefs originate from? Are they something that evolved?

Sigh. I'm still thinking on it. Has anyone out there felt they didn't have a sense of forboding about their child's death?

Simone said a lot of interesting things last night. She also said, for the first time, that nobody knows what she feels. 'Nobody knows what it's like to lose their little brother'. It remeinded me of my blog a few weeks ago when I said nobody knows what I live through each day without Myles. That sense of loneliness I wish I could take for her. I know how painful that is :(

I'm so fortunate to have her, and I'm so glad to be her mother.

1 comment:

Julia said...

Monkey was just shy of five when A died. She was pretty verbal then, and still is. But it goes in cycles for her, the active grieving and just living with it. She never forgets, though.

About premonitions. I once confessed on my blog to having known. For me it's not a backfilled story-- I actually said "I don't see this ending well" at the end of the perfect anatomical scan, just because they told us he was a boy. I have to say that by about a week before he died, though, I managed to talk myself into believing that it was a false premonition.

It's so good that you and Simone have each other, and that you are both comfortable talking and crying together...