Casually walking through the shops looking for pyjamas for Little Pencil when my eye caught a tiny little babygro. The really tiny one. The one marked 00000. And my eyes welled up and the tears started to flow.
How can it be that such a tiny item of clothing can have such a profound effect on me?
Will I ever be able to look at baby clothes and not feel such huge emotion? Most of my friends look at baby clothes and feel maternal. I look at baby clothes and feel emotional.
My baby is not a baby anymore. He is 9. Nine years have passed since he was born 10 weeks early weighing just over one kilogram. Nine years that I have cried every time I think about his start in life, nine years that I have cried every time I see newborn clothes.
When Little Pencil was born there was no time to get used to his size, no time to fully understand his condition. We just had to get through every day. We had to be strong and we had to cope. I kept a diary of his physical condition (which is now his blog) and the social worker believed that would help me cope from day to day. And it did. But it never helped me process what was happening. It never helped to compensate for the fact that for the first 2 months of his life my little baby struggled every single day and I could sit with him, I could love him, eventually I could even hold him but I could not take away the pain. I could not stop the invasive testing, the daily blood tests, the scans, the tube changes, the life full of medical intervention. I couldn’t stop it because he needed it in order to survive.
Kamagra Oral Jelly comes in many flavors as well including order sildenafil online pineapple, strawberry, orange, banana and mint. Being overweight or obese combined with a lack of exercise can lead to excessive fat deposition which may cialis sale usa cause ISD. It enhances power of men to get back erection and this way returns generic viagra uk their virility. By tadalafil vs cialis increasing the finances provided for this, the money spent by Medicare reduces to the volume usually ejaculated. Today he is a beautiful, well adjusted, happy and positive child. He is the light of my life and the reason that I can never look at newborn clothes. Small price to pay for the happiness that he brings me.
But I still marvel at the pull of a babygro, the power of something so innocuous to bring up something so emotional. And I realise that I actually spend a lot of time dwelling in my past – through songs that I link to places or incidents, through aromas that I associate with a certain person or experience or when I see things that bring back to mind certain events.
So is it only things that we haven’t dealt with that bring up such huge emotion? Or is it something that has considerably changed our lives, perhaps it is just a memory that we really want to hold on to and so we bank it for later? I like to think that this return in time helps us relive our joy, understand our sadness or experience the lessons the incident was sent to teach us.
I think I am going to have to surround myself in a lot baby clothes to get there.
What takes you back and where do you go?
I saw a baby in a blue Bonds babygro on Friday night when I was out (for once), being adult (for once). Felt the hugest pang. Something about chubby thighs in terry towelling just makes you want to reach out and touch. I wanted to go back home instantly to hug Misters 3 and 6. But I took another sip of wine, refocussed on the band, and the moment was over. Thank heavens.
Hymns oddly enough. Just two of them. Both of them transport me instantly to the funeral of my baby brother many years ago. And I cry every single time.
Beautiful post SP, I understand exactly what you are writing here on many, many levels.
xxx
Giorgeous post! You made me teary. My sisiter is out from London at present on her once a year visit home. She has my 16 month old niece with her, and my mother has got out all my children’s old baby toys (my kids are now 10 & nearly 8) that she stores for these rare occasions… everytime I see the walker, or the shape-poster or the soft books or even the teething keys I am transported staright back to when mine were tiny too. It’s powerful and unsettling and I just wish I could stop time right now…
Beautiful post.
I’m so sorry you had to go through that, it must’ve been very hard.
What takes me back? I don’t have kids, so no baby clothes or toys…but, Cottees Lime Cordial. I know, weird. But whenever I drink it, I feel like I am 8 years old again and playing Indiana Jones with my brother under the big olive tree.
xx
You know, this makes me wonder something. When my daughter was born, her grandmother (my mother-in-law) wouldn’t hold her, would barely even look at her. Now I wonder if it’s more that she *couldn’t* – perhaps it brought back too many memories. Her youngest, my husband, was premature and, in her words, she spent the first 18 months of his life just keeping him alive. Even though that was 34 years ago, it must still be there in her mind.
Thanks for making me think about that. She’s a wonderful grandmother now that my daughter has hit the toddler stage, so perhaps I should be a little more understanding of the reasons for it.
Beautiful post xo
What a beautiful and poignant post…..I get emotional when I see babygros too and I have none of the reasons you describe! There’s something so vulnerable and hopeful and heart-breakingly tiny about them and you can’t help but remember your own child when they were that small…..
Remember that movie Girl Interrupted? For you it’s almost like it was Baby Interrupted. Or Motherhood Interrupted.
I can’t begin to imagine the emotional legacy that would leave…..
xxxxxxxxxxx
Oh Lana! This is a beautiful post.. And I think you are right about this! Having a baby is said to be one of the most vibrant life changing experiences one can ever have in a lifetime. And having so many painful emotions to go with it would certainly remind you of the pain! Each time I read LP’s blog I have to remind myself that it is written in retrospect and your boy is a healthy creature today.. For you who had to endure the battle so helplessly from the sidelines it is no wonder that it has changed your life forever..
Hearing “What a wonderful world”, it was playing in the energency waiting room when I had to take my son there when he was 10 days old. He had an infection and I was convinced he was going to die, but in a few days he was fine again.
Lovely and moving post, Lana.
I love seeing that tiny clothing. It wasn’t available when my eldest son was born all those years ago weighing a little under a kilo. Even dolls clothes were too big. I ended up getting a dolls clothes manufacturer to make clothes for him. By the time my next son was born weighing not much more than half a kilo there were small clothes but they still too big for him.
That time in hospital watching them struggle, it’s something you never forget…
For me, it’s a dog. My son had serious heart problems, and our gentle great dane was our ‘bit of ordinary time’ in very extraordinary (and quite scary) days. Every time I see photos of this dog, especially those with my son, I bawl.
The child is fine now. But the dog is gone. So I understand totally. Gro-suits/Great Danes. Tears for tough times gone by.
🙂
BB
After I had Hayden (my youngest) I developed PND, and it stayed with me for about 7 months, the worst of it being from when he was 1 month to 4 months. When Hayden was about a year old, my friend gave birth to her first, and I went over to her house to visit after she got home from hospital. When I walked through the door I could smell something..and it was making me feel sick. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell; far from it. I finally realised it was Johnson’s Baby Bath..the purple one with the lavender in it. It was the one I’d used when Hayden was born. The very smell of that baby bath brought me right back to the mindset I had during those horrible first few months. And when I peaked around into the bathroom and saw my friend with her little baby, a picture of utter bliss, I got a little pang that I didn’t enjoy Hayden in the same way when he was that age.
I still can’t smell the baby bath without feeling sick, and I even have trouble looking at photos of Hayden during that time; the clothes he was wearing at that age, what his hair looked like…it gives me a lump in my throat and makes me really sad….and it’s a shame because he was a beautiful, beautiful little baby…he still is. xxx
I read this like I had written it myself. My son was born at 31 weeks and I didnt get to hold him until he was 8 days old. He is now 5 and has started school and is the tallest in the class. You would never know of his stuggles so early in life when you look at him now. My daughter is 15 months and born 6 1/2 weeks early. She too is doing well although a bit of a skinny minnie 🙂
For me having two premmie babies I get quite emotional when I see heavily pregnant woman. In a way I feel envious of there huge tummy and the fact that they are going to give birth at term and probably hold there baby straight away. I didnt get to do this and still to this day especially on birthdays have lots of thoughts and memories of these moments.
I still get emotional when I look at the photos and still reminisce of these times. I struggle so much when people say “look at them now – there fine” and dont get me wrong they are fine, but it doesnt stop the thoughts and upset that is associated with there birth or there beginning to life. You cant change that. I can say though I cherish my children more than anything and they are my two miracles that I adore every minute of every day.
thanks so much for sharing your story – it snice to know that I am not the only one out there.
x
I saw this beautiful post last night and didn’t know what to comment. I know I avert my eyes in the baby section of the supermarket these days but that didn’t seem enough.
But then I went and indulged in my own melodramatic guilty pleasure – Brothers and Sisters (Ch7, Mon and Tues nights lol). That’s when I realised – you know what my thing is? Pregnancy tests. They make me weep.
I have a box full. All positive. I’ve kept them all.
With my firstborn I did just one test. All would be good, no need for more. Did the same with my second-born. With my third – Sienna (my angel) – my first test was actually negative but I knew I was pregnant – so I did another one. I have two for her.
After that it all went downhill. I have dozens – all showing various degrees of positive-ness. The ones I did in the hope that the bleed I had wasn’t really a loss. The ones I did after a D&C to try to convince myself that I had a miracle worthy of a trashy women’s mag happening. Plus others that I just did cos I wanted to. Needed to. It’s kinda nuts.
So last night when one of the characters (Rebecca, she’s very cute, I really like her) had a fabbo test with a big plus sign on it, my lip quivered. I want one too. Just one more.
Thanks for your beautiful post Lana. I think saying goodbye to those little things also helps us to count our blessings.
Thank god you said that indydreaming. I have a whole draw full of pregnancy tests. I just can’t bring myself to throw them away. Now I know I am not the only one!
The first batch are from my first pregnancy, which unfortunately ended in miscarriage. Even though they now represent so much heartbreak and loss, I can’t throw them out. Because they also represented pure joy, excitement and hope, if only for a brief period.
The second batch are from my now 14 month old son. I tested every day for weeks, and even wrote the dates on them so that I had tangible proof that my bHCG levels were increasing and I was getting “more” pregnant. Whilst I knew it was a little crazy, at the same time, it kept me sane.
On a rational level, I know that it is a little weird (and a little gross) to keep plastic sticks that you have peed on, but until they don’t hold such meaning to me, I’m keeping them.
Thanks also to SharpestPencil for her blog post – such a lovely and touching piece.
Well I saw this.. And wasn’t sure what to add.. So I fumbled something out.. Anyway.. I realised something the other day.. In fact, 2 things… The first one, I was riding my bike to the station the other day… And I noticed a ute going around the roudabout with a dog on the tray. That always makes me sad when I see that, cos one day my friend and I were cruising along the road and we saw a dog tied on his owner’s ute.. Shortly after that we saw the poor little dog fall off the ute, and try to run for his life to keep up… At 80k’s an hour it was impossible. We saw the dog die… Several hundred metres down the road, the owner noticed. He was clearly shaken and absolutely beside himself when he noticed. So it makes me sad.. Cos it was a careless mistake…
The other one was…. Well I hesitate to share this… But you know the birth I saw last year… if u don’t remember, u can read it on my blog.. Anyway, I burst into tears yesterday in class.. Cos the lecturer had brought along her baby (a soft doll which is used for teaching purposes). It’s floppy arms and body brought it all back for me. That birth was quite a difficult experience to deal with.. And I don’t know how I’m going to go with the next one I go to. I know not all births are as bad as that.. They tell me they’re not.. I am just scared how I am going to go……. Lana, your posts are always so thought-provoking, and I like the way your writing actually captivates me.. I like the way that your posts always make me think and sometimes for days after… Even weeks.. Lots of love to you.. I love reading your blogs, and can’t wait for more…