Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Letters to Andrew {6}

The day we arrived home empty-handed from the hospital after losing Andrew, we immediately re-booked our flights from California to Florida instead. Our California trip was scheduled for a post-baby shower and to introduce Andrew to all of our friends and family. With no baby to bring, we chose to change our itinerary altogether and booked a cruise to the Bahamas. It wasn't meant to be a vacation and we didn't look forward to it. We were far too sad to look forward to anything. I couldn't even manage to understand how I'd make it another day, let alone look forward to a trip we'd take a few months from that date.

This time, we set out for the islands again, but this time a bit further into the West Indies. Somehow, I feel connected to Andrew when we travel to that region, because he was so close to me then. He was still so fresh in my mind and it was days and not years since I'd held him for the one and only time.

On one of the days we spent on St. Kitts, we took a taxi to Cockleshell Beach at the Southern tip of the island, looking on to Nevis, the sister island and other half of the small country. The entire beach was pretty desolate as there were no cruise ships docked that day. There were other families with their children playing in the calm waters and people dining at the two restaurants. We took walks up and down the narrow shoreline and spent the time on shaded beach chairs with the only sound coming from the crashing waves and a rooster that couldn't seem to figure out his place in life.

I felt an overwhelming need to see his name in the sand, so I wrote it. A few times, actually. The waves wanted to wash it away and I needed to see it.

Beloved Andrew,

I don't shower what's left of you with kisses quite as much as I did in the earlier days of missing you. I don't cry as much... though just typing that has reduced me to big alligator tears. It upsets your brother to see me crying, so it's a good thing he's napping right now. The magnitude of losing you still catches me by surprise when I think of just how much we lost on that dreary day in December. 

I read an article this week about a celebrity who had a late miscarriage and was deeply saddened by the loss. There were comments from ignorant strangers that made me so angry. They didn't understand that an entire life and all of the plans that came with that precious life were gone. It's been a long time since I felt injustice and anger about losing you. Those feelings came right back up when I read about others trivializing that baby's life.

When we were in St. Kitts with your little brother this past weekend, I couldn't stop thinking about you. There were many children at our resort. Many that were about the age you would be now. My heart will always wonder and ache for the boy and man you should become.

We arrived back in Chicago to cold, just as we did when you died and after that Bahamas trip we took because you died. The winter chill stings my soul and mocks us with its presence. 

We miss you. There's nothing more to say about it, but I'll keep saying it. It can never quantify how much, as the words are just not powerful enough. I love you. 



Amy L. said... [Reply to comment]


Caroline said... [Reply to comment]

His name looks beautiful on that beach.

Glad you felt him near. Sometimes is good to be taken back to those intense feelings.


Party of Three Heads said... [Reply to comment]

Beautiful, just beautiful.

Brooke said... [Reply to comment]

That letter is perfect. Everything we say... It never feels like quite enough.

And YES to losing a whole person, a whole life, a set of expectations that we believed with all our hearts and souls were certain to come true. It's crushing, and the thought of anyone trivializing that makes me furious.

Solange, Nik, Caitlin and Oliver said... [Reply to comment]

Beautiful letter, B.
I know I don't know how you feel at all but I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I remember where I was, what I was doing; how excited I was to see your name pop up on my phone screen thinking I'd hear you tell me you were on your way to the hospital to deliver Andrew. I remember you telling me he was gone. I couldn't understand what you were saying because it couldn't possibly be true. I remember asking you if the doctors were sure-such a stupid thing to say-because they must have been wrong. I remember shaking and crying when I said goodbye to you. I sat there for a long time just shocked with how cruel the world had just been. I'm still angry and sad for you guys. But mostly I miss you and wish you weren't so far away.

LauraJane said... [Reply to comment]

Gorgeous letter for your gorgeous boy.

I'm glad you felt near to him, but hate that he's not here.. Even though, you know, we knew that. HATE it so much.


Melissa said... [Reply to comment]

Simply beautiful. So very tender and real.

I love how places can bring our children closer to us. For us, New York is that place. We always carry our babies, like papooses on our back wherever we go... it is just sometimes we can feel them more.

However tender the ache, however sad the moments, I am glad you had him close to you in your travels.

Rachel said... [Reply to comment]

beautiful post and beautiful picture, made me feel like I know Andrew a little better. Glad you feel close to him there.

Darcey said... [Reply to comment]

So beautiful and so real. I do the same...write Logan's name on whatever beach we go to. I know his little feet would be running up and down that sand and I guess by plastering his name all over it i feel i am giving as much to him as I can by including him in it.

It just is so very unfair :(

Marianne said... [Reply to comment]

Beautiful post. I am so sorry, so very sorry.

Di said... [Reply to comment]

Love that he travels with you. xx

Ben and Katie said... [Reply to comment]

You're such an amazing mom....
I look up to you in so many ways!

Renel said... [Reply to comment]

It's a lovely thing to do... Write a baby's name in the sand. Speaking to the earth and the child you miss simultaneously. We have not forgotten. Your name is on my lips. Our love is forever. We miss you. I know that feeling of having things bring back the pain and ache of the harsh grief. It's hard but it's real because we feel it. I'm glad your heart felt closer to Andrew. Gosh I wish he was with you playing on the beach. You letter is lovely. Your an amazing mama to your boys.

Natasha said... [Reply to comment]

Andrew's name in the sand is absolutely gorgeous <3 I'm so glad that you were able to feel close to him there. The feeling of their presence is amazing.

Beautiful letter to your beautiful boy....lots of love to you my friend.

Addi's mom said... [Reply to comment]

The times you write about/to Andrew are the times I most want to leave a comment and yet I find myself holding back because there is usually so much I want to say. When this happens I want to be able to give this space my FULL attention. IG is easy and fast to comment, but this sacred place deserves so much care and attention. I'm glad you felt so close to your first boy on this trip. I can see where that would happen. And it's just such a lovely name to write in the sand. I liked Darcey's comment about how it makes her think about Logan running up and down the sand. She leaves his mark for him just as you leave Andrew's. Beautiful picture for a beautiful boy. Xxxooo

JoyAndSorrow said... [Reply to comment]