Tuesday, 10 September 2013
A Darkened Room
My back against the cot, I sit here for what seems like an eternity. I don't feel the pain of the cot bars digging into my back though.
I just feel you.
I feel your warmth. I feel your heartbeat. I feel your body one with mine. Just like we used to be when you were inside me.
I sit here in a darkened room holding your tiny head in my hands. Not ever wanting to let you go.
I sit here after calming you down. Cold and teething are not your friend tonight. You love your sleep and it pains me to see you so upset.
It's not like you. You're usually so happy.
You've been so difficult today but I don't mind. I don't mind one bit. For when I feel my patience wearing thin I imagine what life would be like without you.
Without you. I shudder at the very thought.
I have lots to do tonight but it can wait. Me time seems so pointless.
You are me.
I just want to hold you close forever. And ever.
I want to sit in this darkened room as long as I can. I sit here and the tears start to fall. They start to fall because I know that outside of this room there are other mummies and daddies who sit in the dark.
They sit there for different reasons.
They sit there without their baby.
Their baby is gone.
That baby could be tiny. That baby could be fully grown and left home. No parent should have to bury their child - whatever age.
I'll sit in this darkened room for as long as I want. I'll sit and I'll think and I'll be thankful. Thankful that even though this evening has been hard...
...you are here with me.