Noah has been asking for my attention rather insistantly the last few days. Things I haven't thought of in many weeks pop into my mind - randomly. His birth. Waiting for the contractions. My doctor. No heartbeat. My cluelessness. Being alone. Wailing in me sweet gentle husband's arms. The seering grief. And the guilt.
There are so many things I want to say about our life as a family while I carried Noah. It isn't a pretty story. It ends in such a vicious irony that my mind still reels at the thought of it. How could this have happened in real life? Even the schmaltziest melodramatist would have dared pitch this script - and he likely would have been laughed out of the meeting. But it did happen to us - to me - to Noah.
Possibly Not Solved by Numbers
1 week ago