Today I did something that I never want to do again, willingly, something I haven't done, willingly, in a very long time (if ever). Hope I never have to again.
I went to a cemetery.
On Facebook today, someone wrote, "Today is Rainbow Baby Day. A “rainbow baby” is a baby that is born following a miscarriage, stillbirth, neonatal death or infant loss. In the real world, a beautiful and bright rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of things getting better. The rainbow is more appreciated having just experienced the storm in comparison."
I'd never heard of it so I looked it up. There is such a thing. I didn't know.
Of course, I quickly posted that my daughter and myself are both Rainbow Babies. Then I thought for a minute, that's not quite true. My son is a Rainbow Baby, too.
Then, the memories came back. The memories of the deaths, miscarriages. The memories of the abortion. The memories of the feelings that flooded me...when those events occurred. And I wanted to do something to commemorate, remember. I've never done it before. Never. I don't have a grave, or tombstone. I'd fought so hard to forget, forgive. You never forget.
So, I decided to go find a cemetery, and remember. I got a pink teddy bear and some fake flowers I had in a closet and I went to an old cemetery. One way out in the woods. I found some really old gravestones of children and I took some pictures of them. On my way out, I found four headstones. Unmarked. Two together, and two next to them. Four. They were all babies.
I swore I wasn't going to cry. Fought the tears harder than the oppressed emotions. It's in the past. I've gotten over it. But....I haven't. So, I took a picture of those four gravestones without the teddy bear. somehow it seemed right not to. They had no visible names and I didn't want to add or subtract from the visual. I wanted to remember it the way it was.
I can't remember all the dates. I kind of do, but I wish I had the actual dates. Because, those were my babies. Whether I wanted them or not at the time. Some I did, some I didn't. They never were given names, either. Whether I had emotions about them at the time...some I did, some I didn't. They are still a part of me that need to be remembered and never forgotten. It has taken me a long time to forgive myself. I know God has and he has forgotten my sins.
Now it seems wrong for me to forget. Now I have pictures of headstones to prove I didn't.
|My heart aches|