The Awakening Bond

Fried Okra asks today in a very poignant post about when her awakening bond with the baby she carries occurred. Megan related her experiences to songs and asked about what song symbolized MY bond with my kids.

As far as I can remember, this happened with only one of my kids. I guess I just got too busy having more to take the time to relate our relationships to songs. But with Oldest Girl, it was this one that came out right after she was born. And now, 11 years later, it still makes me sniffle.

With Baby Bunting, it's like new awakening after every twist, roll, shuffle-step-kick that he does. Somehow it's like I forget, although I with my huge 32 week belly I don't know how I WOULD forget, but I do. Each and every movement he makes is a treasure trove for my heart. I take pleasure in his movements, even when they involve squishing my tiny bladder into near non-existence.

Is this from the loss of Michael? Maybe. Now, Michael just seems so far away, but I still find myself occasionally thinking of Bunting as Michael. I know that won't stay around after he's born, but it's a bit disconcerting, none-the-less. RooBoo prays for her lost baby brother every night, touchingly.

Butterfly Kisses by Bob Carlisle, for your viewing pleasure... For the bond between me and my first baby.



What about you? What, if any, symbolizes YOUR bond?

Where Do You Come From?

“How will your children know who they are If they don’t know where they came from?”

– Ma, in “Grapes of Wrath.”

Dreaming

I don't dream about Michael. I never have. I wish I could have seen him, just once, but it wasn't to be. But I feel more at peace about him.

His presence in our lives was a blessing beyond measure in more ways than love. Losing a child is no fun way to come to terms with your life, but this is how it happened for Hubbers. The death of our son brought upon him a life changing cataclysm and emotional breakthrough.

Hubbers was my rock during the diagnosis. Tears shining in his eyes, coursing down my cheeks. His confident touch, his unending love, just his constant presence during that three weeks after the loss.

A month after Michael left, Hubbers broke down, broke through, and was able to cry about our baby. His shuddering sobs touched my heart in ways I cannot describe. I was able to be there for him now; to hold him during his pain.

The result: Hubbers realizes how important we are to him; how important I am to him. He knows he loves me, but didn't FEEL it (his words). He has been much easier to get close to since our loss. He shows his love in ways that don't involved s-e-x.

Rambling. That's all this is. And I can see that I do not explain things as I understand them. My explanation is callous, rough, untamed. Forgive me my inelegance.

While our son is gone, I still feel his presence in my life. I feel him nearby, watching over us, loving us. I will never forget. The leaving of our son, though a ripping pain, was also a healing balm.

Time

However time or circumstance may come between a mother and Her child, their lives are interwoven forever.

– Pam Brown