Posted by: Louise | March 16, 2010

longing

Losing Laura and longing for another baby. Are they the same thing? Is my longing all tied up in my loss? There is no question that had I never got pregnant with Laura I would not be feeling this longing as intensely. I wasn’t delighted the day K came home and announced he’d booked his vasectomy, but I wasn’t fighting it either. However discovering I was pregnant with Laura, only days later, and being pregnant as I turned forty was the most wonderful gift I could ever have hoped for. I coasted through my birthday celebrations (sick as a dog, incredulous that no one noticed I wasn’t drinking) cushioned from the traumatic significance of this birthday because I WAS PREGNANT!!!!!!!

A year later I feel ancient. I feel like I have bypassed all my forties and fifties and am firmly planted in my sixties. That day by day gradual journeying ultimately towards old age is a distant memory. It is part of the before world. In this world there are no new babies. There is no new life. No renewal. No wonder of childbirth. No agony of labour leading to exultant wonder as your baby lies between your legs, still attached to you, but breathing, independent, a whole new person in our midst.

And its not that the people in this world are not enough. If anything they are loved more because their miraculous breathing ever expanding life is now in such stark contrast to what I know. But through the gift of my pregnancy with Laura I acknowledged, really acknowledged, to myself just how much I love everything about growing a baby. I never took it for granted, but I never admitted to myself just how much it meant to me – my body changing to support and accommodate this new life, the journey of labour, the thrill of birth, breast-feeding, my baby sleeping on my chest lulled in slumber by my heartbeat.

It’s gone, all gone, all but loss and longing. I told someone after Laura died that I am not afraid of dying anymore. Our time in her midst was so peaceful. But I do not recognise this world now. It is changed. I am changed and I don’t know how to live anymore. Everything is the same and I am changed. And I want something to change so I can find a way to fit in to this old world. I want a baby. I want my baby. I want hope. I don’t want to feel like I am ‘living out my days.’ But we can’t always have what we want.

And what I feel in my heart, yearn for in my being is not what K wants and here we are. Lost. Searching frantically for something, someone to show us the way forward from here. And in the meantime work and school and homework and after school activities and friends and cleaning and tiding and cooking dinners and laundry and bed time stories are carrying us along. And maybe it is enough, but I can’t stop longing…….

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