Tuesday, 1 May 2012
23:46 | Posted by Caz | Edit Post
I've written a small number of poems since Anabelle died. I never thought myself the writer, I hadn't written a poem since junior school! But one day, one kind of just started, I'm not sure how or why but it felt like a release. Somehow therapeutic to let the words flow in a different way. I suppose poems visualised my pain. Writing in all its forms has easily become my way of organising and processing my grief.
I hadn't written one for a long while, maybe not even for a year; but in December, after a rough couple of days in a low place I found myself writing one in my head again. I'd been struggling with the perception that 'everything must be ok now' because we had Alexander. Many well meaning people throughout December told me that Christmas would be better this year now we had Xander, or after Christmas said we must've had a much happier Christmas this year. This perception that everything was better.
And to some extent it is true, we did have a much happier Christmas is many ways. Our son was here, we celebrated with him, we enjoyed Father Christmas trips, opening presents and spoiling him - we did all the things we as parents with our baby were supposed to do, we wanted to do them, it was important that we celebrated his first Christmas to the full; but not any of this negated the pain we felt with Anabelle's absence.
By Boxing Day I was exhausted, feeling dark and low. I was all done with putting on the happy face, now I needed time to grieve my daughter. Another Christmas where she wasn't.
You see there is really no such thing as better. There is different, there is happy, but not better.
There is still sad too. That doesn't get better. Now there is two conflicting experiences going on; amazing joy for our boy and broken despair for our girl. These almost parallel lives collide often, delicately intertwined. Still grieving parents, and new parents again all rolled into one. There are many fragile moments. In all our happy there is pain.
She should be here, there is no escaping that. Alexander being here doesn't stop that being true, or painful for us.
Anabelle's death influences everything, we probably enjoy our son all the more because of her. She taught us to be parents, to appreciate what really matters, what we want to remember the most. We don't want to remember his baby days as being tired or how many difficult nights there were. We want to remember that we soaked up everything about him, that I held him all day if he wanted me too and didn't care about this supposed 'rod I'm creating for my own back'. We want him to 'remember' being soaked in love.
We are utterly in love with him, we gush, we goo, we make the effort not to waste a moment of him because we know it could've all been so different. It could still all turn so differently. My fear of his death is nearly always at the forefront of my mind, maybe obsessively so, maybe one day I'll calm down, maybe I won't. It is always going to be a fear, our first child died, we know that pain only too well.
The delight and miracle that he is because he lived and came home is paramount. We appreciate that to a degree that probably only another angel parent can.
So things may appear happier from the outside, you will see us smiling and glowing again, after all Alexander is our sunshine, our rainbow. But Anabelle is still here, still our child, still missed, still loved, still everything.
And today it is May, which means she is two next month. Next month.
Please don’t tell me she is in a better place
It’s not always a comfort to know.
She may be in Father God’s keeping,
But the hurt isn’t any less so.
Heaven is a long way from here,
A lifetime to wait ‘till we’re there,
We journey the days on the earth,
With only one of our babies to share.
Joy and sadness aside one another,
Pleasure tainted by forever pain,
Everything conflicted in parallel lives,
And lots of mixed up emotions remain.
We are parents of number one and two now,
Although it might not quite seem that way.
One of each, such a blessing I’m sure,
If only number one could’ve stayed.
So I’m Mummy to my little baby angel,
And to my precious little man,
I promise to love and honour you both,
Always the very best ways that I can.
- After Anabelle - Raising Rainbows. I'm Caz, Mummy to beautiful angel Belle and my wonderful rainbow boys, Xander, Zachy and Luc. Wife to Jon. Twitter @cazem Instagram @cazzyem
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Written by C.E Morgan. Powered by Blogger.