Sunday, March 20, 2011

Feeling Something in the Air

March is a difficult month for me. I wrote about it last year in my post, March Madness. Even though I feel like I have done a lot to process those events and feelings, there is still a trace that is felt now. I have found myself to be quite emotional for the past few weeks. There are times when I can barely hold back the tears that seem to come from somewhere deep within me--a great and overwhelming sadness. When I stepped outside on Friday, there was something in the air, the wind and the sunshine that took me to that place again in a snap. But the sadness that I felt was somehow different. It was like in layers, some distant and some newly surfacing. The welled up feelings seemed to suddenly fall into place and crystallize in one moment, in one breath. As I am moving beyond my past relationship and my past life, it is the loss of motherhood that haunts me.

A few weeks ago, I was volunteering at the hospital and visiting with children who needed a little extra company. As I reached into the crib to pick up the infant, the blanket slipped a bit and I saw the stripped print of his sleeper. He was wearing the same sleeper that I had purchased for the babies I had once hoped to adopt with my ex. The same sleeper that still sits in a drawer in one of my nightstands.

Of course I was sad and I gave pause in that moment. But I also tried to push aside my feelings so that I wouldn't completely fall apart while sitting in the hospital with this child. I rocked him and sang songs to him.

After I left, I wondered what my baby would have looked like, would have felt like in that sleeper. And then I realized that if my ex and I had been able to adopt those twins from Utah, they would have turned two-years-old this month. I could be the mother of two-year-old twins right now. What would we have already experienced together? What moments would I have treasured? What would we be doing right now? I pictured taking them outside and going to a park, going to the grocery store or holding their little hands. And it all just makes me so sad. The chance of motherhood seeming to have slipped past me.

And has it really been two years? That feels so long and far away. And then I feel like it is pitiful that I still have the sleepers. I have felt ready to pass them along for a while, or at least that is what I have told myself. I no longer feel like giving them away means giving away the dream of motherhood, either, which is good. I just haven't found a place that seems good enough to give away something so significant to me. I can't tell you how many times I have driven past the Good Will store or shook my head as I passed a donation drop off box. But, my most recent thoughts on the sleepers have been to maybe donate them to the hospital. I don't know, maybe.

It is time. I have held onto the sleepers for too long and I don't want to feel like they are holding me back. Before I do, I think I will write a letter. I need to have my good-bye and I think it will be good to write about what they had meant to me.


  1. Jamie,
    I am sorry that the sadness of March has reached you so deeply yet again. It is tought to reach those milestones - moments that might have been - in your head. You have been through so much in these last 2 years and you have come so far. I am glad to hear that the sadness didn't reach you the same way this year as it did last year, though. That, my friend, is progress.

    As far as the sleepers - you have held onto them for a reason. If you want to, you can donate them to the place you feel is right. It might help with the healing process.

    It is so hard to look back at what might have been and realize how old "your" child would have been. The ghost of that child can haunt you when you least expect it.

    And then perhaps you will have space in your nightstand for something that will represent the fact that motherhood will come for you later. Then, rather than looking at the item and thinking about what could have been, you can look at a different one and picture what might be in the future. You know - give hope a chance to float up.


  2. Jaime, you have a way with words. I just cried at what both of you had to say. I know that you'll find the right place for those sleepers when the time comes. I'm sorry March brings so much sadness for you. I hope it passes a little more quickly this year than it did last year.

  3. I had you in mind when the Calendar flipped to this month. I know it was especially hard for you last year, but I'm grateful to hear this year is a little different. Maybe still not great, but different is a step in the right direction.

    Whatever you decide to do with the sleepers, take your time. Holding on to them, and what they represent can be a powerful thing - in a good way.

    With that said: Here is to your bright and shining future. May next March be a blip on your sun-filled radar.

    Hugs, my friend.

  4. Carli, thank you for your heartfelt comments. I'm glad that you can see the difference in the sadness and I am also thankful that there is progress, even if there is still sadness this year. Time will heal and it is better to be in a place where I can really see that my life is different--and better in a lot of ways. As for the loss of a hoped child, thank you for your acknowledgement in its pain being very real for me. I also appreciate your suggestion as how to move forward, I'll have to think on that one. :)

    Alie, thank you for continuing to read my blog and for your wishes that this time will pass quickly. You are so sweet to comment on such an emotional post of mine.

    Melissa, you are so mindful to have remembered how I felt last year at this time. I was just looking at the photo from the trip last year on my fridge. Thank you for your acknowledgement of my feelings and recognition of the overall positive direction of my life at this point in time.

    Love you, ladies!