Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Missing them

Today seems to be a day when I miss the boys. And I'm not in tears over it, but I have this very heavy heart and I keep taking these deep breaths that sound more like sighs. It's a little strange that there doesn't seem to be any particular reason for it today. I guess that's just how it'll be for the rest of my life. There will just be days...

It's hard to think about losing your child. Children are supposed to live longer than their parents, not die as infants. It makes me wonder how those who have lost more than one child manage to go on (probably the same way I keep going, although in much more pain). I also can't begin to understand how a parent could kill their child. This isn't to say that women with post-partum depression are evil, but rather I can't ever imagine being in a place where the death of my child would be a good thing. I would rather die myself first. That's probably the one thing I can't get about PPD. Where the rational comes from that killing your child is the best possible way out, as opposed to killing yourself. Maybe it's one of those things that unless you've been there you can't understand.

What has been truly aggravating as of late are the women who see fit to complain about their pregnancy. How uncomfortable they are, how hot they are, how big they are, how they wish it was all just over. There are certainly sympathies in there - the woman who has been throwing up since day 1 and is in the hospital. That has to be hard. But I would trade with any of them (and I hate throwing up) to be in their situation. I would happily be hot and big and uncomfortable. Those women don't realize how lucky they are.

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