I wrote this a year after my son died. I remembered him with a fondness and an ache. Letting go off balloons. I wept but i also rejoiced. I am proud to say that Sebastian-David was and IS my son ALWAYS.
It is 1.05 pm
a whole year since your birth
but it seems
as if it only happened hours ago.
Still I hope to awaken from this nightmare
to find myself running after
a toddling baby
and loving every minute
of being your mama.
I have always known
that losing a child
would be the most difficult experience for a parent to endure.
Yet I never imagined the pain would feel so much like terror
as if we are a deer paralysed by the sight of a train blinding our path.
So I live and relive the hours before your birth and the hours
after your death.
Was it something I ate?
Was it something I had done?
Was it something that I lifted or said?
There I was desperately clinging
to theories on
why you couldn’t hold onto life.
I only know that from the moment of your miraculous existence
inside of me
I loved you intensely.
I loved you instantly.
I loved you.
I love you.
Just as the other two whom I so deeply love
I also loved and needed you.
And so now I still love and need you.
And each day I dreamed and planned for your future
your kindergarten class
your wedding day.
Even your own children. But I never planned your death.
Now I ache for you
My arms long desperately to hold you
and to love you
as your eager little self would have
toddled about around the living room carpet.
I long to kiss your soft skin and stroke your cheek as I nurse you at my breast.
I long to rock you to sleep and sing you the ‘raindrops on roses’ song.
I long to see you growing every day,
playing with your sister and cousin
filling our days with your laughter and our nights with your love
I long to take you on walks to the park.
And see the glimmering sun in your beautiful eyes.
I long to awaken you every morning
with a smile and a kiss (or three).
But your death has left me with an empty womb, an emptiness
so dark and a broken heart.
Wondering if the sun will peek again
or if the sparrow’s song will ever sound as sweet
as it did when I was pregnant with you
my sweet child.
Wondering if each and every smile will always be this painful.
And each tear as heart wrenching.
And though others may,
I will not forget you, little boy.
Nor do I wish to try.
I will love you and keep you
close to my heart
until my last dying breath…