Hobson's Choice
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grief
I find that I can watch the Baby Story on tv again (okay, except maybe the sappy part at the end, where the loving couple explains how the baby is a delight every single minute of the day, an explanation that cries out "Nighttime Nanny" to me. But we all know that I've been obsessed with sleep since the beginning of this adventure.)
I find that it doesn't bother me to see those ultrasounds and births again, a year after I found out I was pregnant.
I don't think that any grief ever leaves us; we never "get over it." My hope is that as I age and grow, so will my grief change and mature. So that if by some chance, at the end of life, I come to meet Baby Muriel, I will be ready. I will prepared to be a mother in the right way to someone I've never seen in the flesh.
When I was doing an internship at the Hospice Care Center, I noticed how many of the dying women in their dying visions saw and talked with children they had lost. I didn't think about it then, how many miscarriages and how many horrible childhood accidents, how much crib death. It comes back to me in the weeks following the death of an acquaintance's child, whose husband works for my father-in-law, who reports that there exists nothing in the world to say that could possibly make you feel that you have offered the tiniest comfort.
2:59 p.m. - 2005-04-07
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