what do you call these days?
Friday, January 25, 2013
nathaniel would be 18 months old today. the only other person who acknowledged this - who remembered it - is my 17 year old living son. i know that it's unreasonable to expect other people to remember something like this. but had he lived, 18 months is a huge milestone in development. without the milestone, there is something else, and i don't know what to call it.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
we went through the move. i went through the move. there are days that i want to call the movers back to take everything home. but the day of the move was fairly peaceful.
all of nathaniel's boxes and things waited in the front room for the movers. a blanket draped over his car seat. a mover came in and asked, "is there a baby in there?" before he picked it up and took it to the truck.
i found a closet for nathaniel's boxes and oddly shaped baby things - his brand new stroller, his bouncy chair. i thought to myself, how can a dead baby have so much stuff? but here i am, still keeping it all. moving it from one house to another. i've wondered, if we end up having another baby, could i let the other baby use nathaniel's stuff? i honestly don't know.
it's a crazy babyloss moment, keeping all of his stuff.
so now the farm house is full of boxes. i'm taking part of my saturday to catch up with blogging, because isn't that better than unpacking? the farm is on an island called sauvie island. it's located about 20 minutes from downtown portland in the columbia river.
it's peaceful here. very dark at night because it's away from the city. my neighbors have cows.
we still talk about having a baby. whether to or not to. we weigh the many risks of age. we are both haunted by the truth of life and death and all of the stories of loss we now know. we fly around the lands of yes, no, maybe.
i dream about flying away.