My life is sliced very cleanly into the me before Eva died and the me after Eva died.
I neverinamillionyears thought my child would die once she made it out of icu.
I was so lucky I didn't know how lucky I was. When I look at pictures of me before there is no glint
of sadness in my eyes and I looked young.
I loved my family and felt complete with them. I also was fearful for my kids in a different way than I am now.
Here I am with my two oldest boys when they were just about the same age as my two rainbow boys are now. I no longer look this happy.
The before and the after - often sickening to set side by side. The shadow of sorrow, the knowing, really knowing that we are guaranteed nothing, the pure animalistic fear that exists in the after. There is something much more honest about it, actually, as the years pass. But, it still doesn't make it any more tolerable to live 1) knowing the happy, carefree and confident way things used to feel and 2) amongst others who can't quite understand the reality and permanent implications of child death.
ReplyDeleteYour boys are precious, precious. I wish pure happiness was your story, still. Remembering Eva.