Thursdays, SIGH

Thursdays are difficult for me. For obvious reasons. Living was getting a bit more routine and the grip of pain around my heart had subsided. Today, was another story. Not a surprise that it occurred on a Thursday, but a bit unexpected as I had been resuming life.

The emptiness of my arms were palpable, as the weight of your loss made my shoulders droop and hunch over to protect my heart. The tight shell, enabling me to reengage in the world, to come out relatively unscathed as I saw women with ripe bellies, newborns in slings, both ends of the pregnant birth spectrum that only a mother knows. That intense sharing of breath and heartbeat is what I long for now, as I feel the sting of tears at the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t the courage to look at your picture, it beckons me, but today I cannot go.

The new nanny share has started and Emily has been at our house for three weeks. She sat on our couch, all plump and full of life, and I looked at her and immediately felt the tug, the mind leaping and thinking that this is where my daughter should be. A girl, a soft little girl, a companion to davi, a baby girl to nurse at my still full breasts. Big wet tears, big dew drop tears, my Maytali, my dewdrop.

Although I have been behaving like I did not give birth a mere two months ago, drinking copious amounts of wine and beer, sleeping somewhat soundly, running around haggard, yet not the haggard of a woman with a two month old, the sensation in my vagina and pelvic area speak their truth. They still vibrate from opening for you, to release you into this world, only to be returned to earth. They ache, and now my womb releases eggs and blood, what a mystery. A mess and an utter inconvenience to me. Giving me more grief, and making forget that I delivered you, my sweet baby girl. How is it that my body could so easily slip right into fertility?

I look for you everywhere, and almost everywhere Davi seems to find you. He utters your name simultaneously with discovering a rainbow in the most unexpected places. It comforts me and devastates me, does he feel the loss too?