I haven't written about Seth in such a long time. I am not sure why not really and yet I am absolutely sure why not. It is not like he is not STILL on my mind. Would you ever stop thinking about one of your children? He is there. At times I find him there and I think to myself "I really should write about this, get it out of mind, record the thoughts of him. After all, these are more proof he was here." I find excuses as to why I let the thoughts go without recording them...I am just so busy with the kids. Sitting at the computer and trying to write just seems too complicated right now. What if I start writing and the right words don't come? They might not make any sense at all. I might open my grief box and the tears, the pain may be too much. Again. I even think to myself....what if someone reads what I wrote and they simply don't understand why I am still so heavily filled with grief, sadness, the questions, the longing for a baby whose name they are unsure about saying around me anymore.
So instead I spend time reading what others have written. I strangely find comfort from their words. I feel understood by complete strangers while I walk in my real life ever wondering what others really think about my "traumatic" life event. The one that is unimaginable and too hard too believe. I worry they see me as the woman who had a dead baby. And then almost worse I worry that they look at me and forget it even happened too me. They forget HIM.
I am filled with thoughts I just don't mention except to a very select few. And even then I worry I have said those thoughts too often. I hear myself talking about it, mentioning him all the time, and yet it feels like STILL no one really knows him at all. I wish I would write about him more. It is all I have to keep the memory of him. He lived.....he died. Then his story was left to be told. I STILL want to tell it. So I am.
I am wondering myself too what convinced me at 4 am to go ahead and give in to the urge to record the thoughts...and this is it. I woke up at 3 am unable to sleep. I ran across this story....
Yes, that is me too. I opened the story curious as to what she had to say. Her words, her thoughts were too familiar. I started thinking of those in my life I wanted to read it. I want you to read it and I want to feel understood. I want you to know this... I found myself screaming inside..."Yes, this! This is what I STILL think about. This is what I STILL want to tell others about my son. The one I named Seth. Oh I STILL miss him terribly."
Please take a minute and read this mother's motherhood story. Maybe it won't have the same impact on you as it does me. But I think selfishly I want you to read this mother's story while placing me in her story because it matches up to so much of my story of stillbirth, to my thoughts of a life without my son Seth. I have had many of these same thoughts, these familiar memories in my head but have been too unsure to write out. If I am really honest though I want them shared. Her words...her thoughts they remind me of my own. If you are a mother who has experienced stillbirth too. I am so sorry you had to say goodbye to your baby. I hope her words bring comfort...a feeling of being understood. If you are a friend of mine I hope you hear her voice as one that speaks for me too. I STILL want to be asked about my son. I STILL want to hear his name. I know you don't always understand what it is like to have a Stillborn baby. I wish I didn't either but I do. I know you may not always know what to say to me about Seth. But just telling me that you remember I have a son named Seth speaks volumes to my heart.
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