Being with Theo, our bodies joined, taught me how to sit, listen, rest. Pregnancy overwhelmed my mind, taking over my body. It was so refreshing to do only what little boy Theo wanted. Sit, eat, lie down, walk, stand, sleep, yoga, sing.
Now I still try to hear what other people are saying, what I am needing, what the world is crying for, where the mountains are calling me. Its peaceful and now, its another little gift from my sweet boy. And tonight I can hear the house. I can hear the sounds of my own cries and anguish, reverberating back. My tears have been private, the deep expanse of my pain mostly contained in this home. It held me and heard me, not judging in return. These walls have supported me when I scream that its not fair. Its waters have let me wallow in my grief, and then washed away the mess.
Thank you old house. Everyone needs a spot to release their load, you carried it with ease. With Love and Gratitude, Emily
A last lovely night in Colorado, crickets sounding their night call, the air clear and temperate. I’ve picked my spot on the swinging bench, trying to memorize this. I remember when Theo was alive that my fear was forgetting all the details. What if I lost his scent or the color on the wall or the name of his favorite nurse or the places he was ticklish? Panic, dread. For I knew it would come, God made this human body incapable of storing all the gifts He gives us. We need Him to remember. And I do still remember, Theo’s hair is a feeling on my fingers that I can still feel. Theo’s crib had Care Bare blankets. Theo had a soft cry, the sound still ringing in my ears when its quiet enough.
I ask God again, please memorize this home and this place for me. Guard it in my heart. Each place you go and break bread and hold new hands, these places keep a part of your heart. I can leave it here, along with part of my son, to plant and grow. To keep loving this community of blessed people, mountains and adventures.
I sit for one moment of stillness, peace and quiet waiting for the movers to arrive. My eyes wander across the street, there sits the hospital sweet Theo was born at. I squint to see if I can peer through our window, is anyone filling that space that was our home for 24 days? What family is preparing to take their little one home or say goodbye for this life? Do they know to hold on tight, value their time?
I will miss these thoughts. I will miss those windows and the dreams I once saw through them.
Maddie sits on my feet, demanding to be pet, bringing me back to this space. Even though we never got the chance to bring Theo home, settle him into his crib and splash together in the bathtub. Even though we never got to sing him lullabies in his rocking chair or tickle his belly on our bed. Even though, this is still our home. This home is our family home. I can hear him in the walls and see him in the floors and feel his touch in every crevice of this house. He is here and now we must go.
My prayer is this, please bring Theo with us, in our hearts and in our new walls, our new windows and new faces and new friends. A mother cannot leave her child behind, so please carry him with us.