We have officially survived our first three days back to school. When we get home in the afternoons we are physically and emotionally spent. I do pretty good during the time of the day I spend teaching. It's the few minutes that I'm by myself in my classroom that I find myself having time to let my mind wander...and of course it only has one place that it wants to go...my sweet Ezra. I can't believe it's been five weeks since the last time I saw him, held him, touched him. I still miss him like it was yesterday.
Everyone at school has been amazing. My first grade team has been so supportive and offered to help in countless ways. I've tried to do as much for myself as I can just to keep my mind occupied, but they will never know how much I appreciate their offers. I've got such a sweet class of students and for the most part they are good listeners and enjoy the things we've been doing. I look forward to building a connection with them like classes from the past. It was really weird stepping back into teaching on Monday midstream as I felt like a stranger (and was for the most part), but I already feel like I'm starting to build relationships with them, it's just going to take longer than three days. The best part of the time I've been back is that none of the students (past or present) have asked about Ezra. Even though I think most of them know what happened (or at least have heard a "kid friendly version") they haven't asked any questions. I'm so thankful for that because as difficult as it is for me to answer questions from adults about Ezra, I'm just not sure my heart could handle answering a question from a child. The closest that I came to breaking down came during car rider duty today when one of the boys I was putting into a car said, "have you seen my little brother?" and when I looked in the backseat a lump formed in my throat when I saw a little boy who would have been about the same age as Ezra asleep in his carseat with a soft blue blanket laid over his little legs. I choked back the tears as I said "have a good afternoon," and tried to regroup as quickly as I could since the next student was coming out the door. It made my heart ache and it took me a good 30 minutes after I got back down to my room to be able to concentrate on anything. One of the books I'm reading right now describes a moment like this as a scab being torn off your healing heart and I think that's a very accurate description...it hurts horribly for a few minutes, but then you have to be careful with it for a time after that because any wandering thought could make it start bleeding and aching again.
I've been thinking a lot lately about my time with Ezra, when he was in my belly and we were as close as a mother and son could be. We had so many good times together in those short 37 weeks. We got to be the cause of so much joy together as we revealed that a baby was on the way in December/January. We made people wait impatiently by their facebook news feeds as we revealed that this baby was a boy in April. We watched movies together, relaxed on the couch, and took lots of refreshing naps. We went shopping, ate lots of frozen yogurt, and wrote out lesson plans. We sang songs, read books, and researched on the internet. Ezra made his daddy smile and his eyes widen as his hand or foot caused my belly to jump for the first time. We listened to music from my ipod and Ezra kicked or punched to the beat...well maybe not to the beat, but he liked music. I treasure every minute that we had together. It makes me sad to think about all the mothers who complain about how miserable they are during the pregnancy. Randall will tell you that I told him on numerous occasions how much I enjoyed carrying Ezra in my stomach. Looking back I believe now that I was blessed with such an easy pregnancy all the way up to the end because God wanted me to be able to look back to that time and smile with good memories. Those 37 weeks were some of the happiest of my life and even though they have been followed by the most excruciatingly painful, I still treasure the time that I had with my Ezra. Now, don't get me wrong, I would give ANYTHING to change the outcome of August 9, but that sweet baby made me the happiest mom in the world for his very short time on earth.
I love you, sweet little Ezra. Mommy loves you so much.
Allison,
ReplyDeleteI do not begin to understand the pain that you are going through, but I do understand some of your feelings. After Joshua was born, I went into congestive heart failure from an enlarged heart. My heart and body could not handle all of the excess fluid of pregnancy. There was a while when we did not know if I would ever come home. I was then told I would never be able to have more children. I had so loved being pregnant just like you. I had loved having him all to myself where I could love and protect him without anyone else interfering. I almost dreaded to share him with the world. The moment I had delivered, I had begun planning my next pregnancy, and then I was told there would never be another pregnancy. The questions and the pain began. Why couldn't I have more children? I loved children. Children were my life! I took care of other people's children better than they did sometimes! This wasn't fair! I had done everything right; I had lived a pure life! Why was God punishing me? Everytime I would see a pregnant lady I would have to turn away because my heart yearned for more children. Everytime I heard someone complain about being pregnant, I wanted to scream at them that they didn't know how lucky they were. Everytime I was invited to a baby shower, I would be miserable, and so I quit attending. I grieved the loss of future children, and no one understood the hurt that I was feeling! I put on a brave face and a happy smile, and all the while I cried inside. It has been 8.5 years since I had to deal with all of the questions and pain, yet I still cry as I sit here and write this to you. Know that you are loved. Take the time to grieve your loss; not just the loss of your precious son, but the loss of your future plans, the dreams of which you had dreamed, and the precious time that you had shared. Take the time to question and search for answers, but allow God to share those answers with you....one moment, one step, one day at a time. Love and prayers to you and Randall.
Patricia