Firsts

    Firsts are supposed to be exciting.  First word, first bike ride, first kiss, first love, etc.  But after one loses someone so close to them, it's as if life starts over.  Instead of firsts being exciting, firsts become something to dread.  There are so many things you should be experiencing with your loved one, but instead it's the first time without them.  Firsts take on a completely different meaning.  Some firsts aren't as bad as you think they will be while others are more upsetting than you expected.  You can try to prepare yourself as best as you can, but you never truly know how you will feel until in each particular situation. 

     Yesterday was yet another first for me.  My first time holding a baby since I held Ryker, Tommy and MaryElizabeth.  I had been dreading it, so afraid that it would make me forget how it felt to hold them (it didn't; nothing ever could).  I could have avoided the situation, made up some excuse, but I needed to go.  I wanted to go.  Sometimes I feel like the anticipation of an event is worse than the actual event and because this is something I had been worried about for so long I knew I needed to just do it and get it over with. 

     So I went to a friends house who just had a little girl and I held the baby for over an hour. I admit, the tears did fall once, but I'm hoping she didn't notice.  And for the most part, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  I truly was happy for her. Happy that she had a healthy, living baby and didn't have to experience the pain that I do on a daily basis.  Sad for myself, yes, but still happy for her.  I've held babies before, none recently, but it still took me for quite a surprise when the baby moved.  It was such a surreal feeling.  Ryker, born sleeping, never moved in my arms.  Tommy was wrapped in blankets and I saw facial movements, but no real arm or leg movements.  MaryElizabeth, handed right to me after delivery, kicked quite a bit for the first few minutes, but was still for the most part after that.  So holding a warm, squirming baby, took me for quite a surprise. I mean, I know babies move, but I just wasn't expecting her to move that much.  That's when my tears fell, when I realized how that's how it should feel to hold a baby, a living baby. 

     I wonder how many more babies I will have to hold until I hold another one of our children in my arms again.  Will that baby be dead too?  Will that baby come to us naturally, after fertility treatments, or through adoption? Or will there be no next baby?

     I would do anything to hold them one last time.  To feel them in my arms. To kiss their little faces.  To tell them I love them.