It was not possible to overcome the wanting.
The wanting brought a foolish mistake and a serious error of judgement.
The error of judgement brought our world crashing down.
That crashed ended in a room and £30 a week and arguments and learning to talk, learning to forgive, learning to be grown ups.
Learning to be grown ups meant a new choice and some compromises (not mine mostly, I was very selfish) and a new baby.
And the baby – the baby supposed to be the new start, the proof that we had made it better – died in our arms.
If I could have overcome the wanting, that baby would have not been born, so he would not have died.
If that baby had not been born, he would not have died and we would not have discovered that we were far more than just two people who lived in a house.
If that baby had not died then the proof of solidarity, strength, love, maturity and forgiveness would not be there.
I wish he was here, but I cannot be sorry he was born. It’s a lot to lose in a life lesson though.
If he had not lived – and died – another baby would not have been born. With or without him, we would not have the other.
That baby has made us happy. What we know now is just how lucky we are, not only to have so much, but to live inside so much love.
Because of all that, I am happy. I am content. I know I am loved. I love loving.
I’m happy.
It was rather a long path.
Was it worth it?
Can I justify it?
Is happy okay?
When I should have been happy, I was so often sad.
Now I should be mostly sad, but I’m nearly always happy.
That’s a bit of a strange thing.
It’s a wonder I have any brain left at all.
Mostly I try to stick to simple thoughts now. Like what’s for tea. It’s easier that way.
I try not to think too much about it. If C hadn’t died, we certainly wouldn’t have Rory now. If our surprise baby number three hadn’t been concieved and died, we wouldn’t have tried for C, she wouldn’t have died and we wouldn’t have Rory. When my mind turns towards that I do a kind of mental fingers-in-the-ears-la-la-la, simply because that way lies madness, or my brain might explode. I try to live in the happy while trying not to feel guilty about it, and bearing the sad. xxx
Small short sentence that skate on the surface is about all I can manage. Madness lies deeper in I think.
Oh Merry-
I am only just learning your story. Your post gave me goosebumps and tears. Though my losses have been smaller than yours, I have always felt that Kahil Gibran knew something profound when he wrote:
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
I am so glad I found your blog.
Kat
Life is too short to be anything but happy. I strongly believe the universe, God, Mother Earth whoever desires us to be happy. No one ever said it wouldn’t be easy or complex or messy or paved with sadness, but happy is fine, happy should be normal.
And no one deserves happiness more than you and your family. After rain comes the rainbow and that makes me happy too.
I can’t go there, to that place where if she’d lived, he wouldn’t be here. I simply refuse to.
My friend said she’d always imagined me with six children, she just didn’t think it’d be this way.
I prefer to think I would have them all, and I like to think that maybe somewhere I do.
Fantasy, I know, but it stops the crazy…which yes, is there, just scratch the surface.
I was brought up to believe that everything happens for a reason but I know that sometimes those reasons really hurt. I wouldn’t be who I am now either. I have an angel who made way for my angels and for that I have to be thankful. Beautiful post.
XxX
Love you,
That is all
Jane x
What a moving, poetic post. The surface and the deep – so hard to move between the two and encapsulate the happy/sadness. Thank you.
I know there would never have been an Angus, if Hope had lived. Just would not have happened. Hard to let my mind go down that path though, as I simply can’t imagine life without him.
I wrote a post about hard won happiness the other day. It has been hard work to get here, but worth it.
xo
Just yes – another with a rainbow and happiness and no mental capacity to work out how that works with a dead “last” baby either. Just knowing that it’s okay to be happy without guilt.
A old song I know says ‘ I know the sun is gonna shine, it can’t rain all the time’.
Such a difficult concept, and applicable in many cases, some dreadfully deep, others superficial, and everything in between. We had a m/c between child 2 and child 3, and even with that, you’re still left with that “if we hadn’t lost A we wouldn’t have B”. My mum had a m/c when I was a toddler and says she still feels that child as part of her family, some 40 years later! But even in life’s more normal journey, there’s all sorts of things that happen because of what came before, that couldn’t have if a different route had been followed – I kind of like the parallel universe concepts where ALL those paths exist, but we’re only aware of the one we’re in!
OK, maybe I’m slightly mad regardless – better take the dogs for a walk!