I didn’t want them to leave. And I suppose my face said it all as we stood in the doorway of the bathroom. She had just helped me out of the shower and had applied antiseptic cream to my infected scar. I was bent double, in pain and in grief, and I didn’t want to look at her in the face because I knew that when I did I would have to let go. Those tears would have to streak their way down my face and I would have to admit that there was a baby down there that I wanted nothing to do with. Not in a neglectful way. In a detached way. And then she did what only your mum can do. She took me into her arms and held me. And her words, though brief, have stayed with me ever since. ” You’ll get through this.”
And did I? Did I get through it? Some days I am still finding my way. Some days I don’t think of it at all. Some days I do.
It was snowing. Really thick and heavy snowflakes had been falling all day, and so they had to leave early. They needed to make their long journey home before it became too treacherous. The world was laying down a gentle blanket and pulling me into the cold. I watched the snow continue to fall long after their car had disappeared into the white and I stayed like that for a while. The Polar Express was playing on the television but nobody was really watching it. The baby, for now, was quiet. The world seemed to go to sleep. (more…)