I slept on the floor of Ella’s room last night, aware of every passing car, of all the various ticks and thumps that echo in a sleeping house. I was both embarrassed to be so frightened of shadows, and sure that my presence was the only thing keeping her here, protected.
It’s just not enough to know that “most of us make it to adulthood”, that “news wouldn’t be news if it was everyday.” It’s not enough to squash the fear that runs up and down my spine when I think that some of us don’t make it. Some of us are the statistics, some of us are missing, some of us never grow into our winter clothes.
I just want a guarantee that my girls will make it. I want it in writing.
Did I miss something… some context why you were feeling this way?????? I don’t see anything in previous entries, but maybe something happened in the local news… the news I never watch. Or perhaps it was something you didn’t mention because you are just blogging….
*confused*
Ivy: It’s one of those thousand things that add up kind of things. Two families I know online losing kids in the last month, the upcoming anniversary of a friend’s accident and loss, a story on sexual predators on NPR, the Duncan case, a news story about a baby falling out a window, a near accident on the way home…. it just all adds up. *sigh*
Hugs.
me too.
my heart has been heavy with this…
My heart gets heavy, and sometimes cracks into sobs, at some of our most joyous moments, simply because I suddenly imagine what it would be like otherwise. Without her. I think that’s what makes us such wonderful mothers.
Part of why we still co-sleep is this very thing. In the 7 places we have lived since she’s been alive I have always slept between her and any door or window.
I cry about Shasta almost everyday. I wish I could hug her and tell her how proud her mother would be/is of her strength.