I've been crying for three days straight. Back in June, I found out that a woman in my support group, who had already lost a baby from seizures, had another baby who also had the same disorder as the first baby. This second baby was born 10 days before Portia, April 13. I cried then and held my baby close.
Two days ago, this baby died. And I've been crying so much that Eric just expects my eyes and nose to be red when he looks at me. I pick Portia up at the first sound of a cry and hold her as much as I possibly can.
I'm thinking about going to the funeral on Saturday--not that she would know me from Adam, but just to be there. I wouldn't bring my children. But I'm scared mostly because I haven't ever been to another baby's funeral. Eric and I were talking this morning about Miranda's funeral--how it was a big blur and he said something about turning around and seeing everyone crying and wondered why exactly they were crying.
I hope this doesn't come out sounding wrong, but I think I know why people were crying. They were thinking about their own children and the genuine possibility of losing them had just been slapped in their faces. Of course they were sympathetic to us, I'm not saying they weren't. And I appreciated every person who came there to support us, and I appreciate every person now who isn't afraid to talk about Miranda to me. I welcome hearing her name.
And that is, after all, why I've been crying for days now and keeping Portia so close. Because it is possible that Portia could be taken from me too. It could happen. I am truly sympathetic to this woman and my heart breaks for her, but who am I really crying about? I've never met her baby. I know my baby and hold her and feed her every day.
Perhaps I'm crying for Miranda who isn't with me anymore and the real possibility that Portia could be taken away too.
