I don’t want to grieve forever. I don’t want to wish forever. I’m trying to parse the difference between honoring and grieving. It’s work- lovingly remembering and creatively honoring a dream. More often than not I need that work and dive in: I find it healing. It takes me back to that powerful world after Tiger died but before he was gone. All walls had crumbled and the sky went on forever. I was drenched in sorrow and fully alive. Maternal energy hung around me like the saints’ glow on a Catholic holy card and escaped out- having lost its intended (earthly) destination. I wanted to be anywhere but there, yet embraced my surroundings, my new eyes, my body that didn’t die. I think this is where the magical thinking lives for baby-loss mothers.
We want another child and my body can’t do it. I really want someone to carry our baby. And then, since that seems impossible, we want to adopt…. because I believe that another child is meant to be in our family. Still, I believe that. But some days I just don’t have the reserves.. to be my age, to be so dependent on a stranger and their sadness of giving up a child, to be so far from the joy of carrying your own. I am struck numb at the process of being interviewed and judged to love a baby. Who could love a baby more than Tom and I? ok then, prove it.