A new place

Way back when, when I started this blog, life was different. I was newly pregnant, for the 4th time, and scared to death that something would happen to my babies. Again. And sure enough, it did. We lost one. I almost feel that deep down, I knew something was going to go awry, but wasn't really sure what.

I am still reminded daily (by all kinds of things) of my Calvin that lived just long enough for J&C to have a chance. Yep, I miss him. And not a day goes by that I don't think of him. When the clock shows 11:11, he's there. When I glance up at the 3 monkeys on the shelf in the kids room, he's there. When a butterfly crosses my path, he's there. When I hear certain songs on the radio, he's there. When I have a bad day, he's there. In the spring, when my baby lily pops out of the ground, he's there. When Mothers Day comes around, he's there. When I see other triplets, he's there. When his brothers are kissing each other goodnight, he's there. But only in spirit.

This time of year has always been my favorite time of the year with all of the green grass, trees, flowers and smells. It reminds me of him. It was this time of year when we were in the throws of early pregnancy and our lives were impacted by the three tiny beating hearts inside of my belly. I will be forever reminded of him when spring time comes. It's engrained in my being.

When I look back on the boys birth day, it's almost surreal. I remember it vividly; yet foggy. I have visions of many different things on that particular day - and in reality, it's probably only a fraction of everything that actually happened during that 12 hour period between when we learned that Cal had passed and when I was able to see the babies for the first time that night. When I look back at the pictures we have, it's only those images that I have vivid memory of. Is that because I see them periodically, and really all of the "real" memory from that day has been washed away? I wish I had a video tape of it all so I could go back and re-watch it so that I remembered those moments that I have somehow misplaced. My memory of holding Calvin is vivid - but it seems as though I only held him for a minute or two. When I know in fact, that it was much longer than that.

When I logged on yesterday evening to a fellow bloggers site, I was comforted immediately by her most recent undertaking - to bring together babylost mamas. For any of you who have met the misfortune (if you can call it that) of losing a child, you need to check out this new place. It's full of comfort, truth and amazing women. It's a wonderful place to go to read, post or just "be".

I've been struggling for a bit with where I actually am in my grief process. As life bounces along day to day, grief takes a back seat. I push it aside because it's not at the top of the list, for the moment. When Calvin pops into my mind, I try to make good sense of it like "he must be with me right now while I am doing such & such". I never figure that maybe I'm thinking of him because I miss him so much and am still trying to process the fact that he really isn't here any more. And I never really got a chance to know him on the outside. I only knew him on the inside, as he grew and filled me and his brothers with selfless love. I'm different because of him - in ways I can't explain.