Monday, November 1, 2010


Hey, thanks. Yes, you. And you too.

Your comments on my last post (well, actually, on all of these posts) are more helpful than I can really express. I really, really, really need connection right now, and the Real Life connections are harder to navigate for me, and I really appreciate you all coming here and your comments here - both from mamas who are in my shoes (or have worn a similar pair) and have walked these awful lonely dark roads and from my friends from around the bloggy cul de sac of what feels a lot like a past life right now...I don't know how better to express it than letting you know that when I wake up in the middle of the night and can't get back to sleep, I pull out my phone and read and reread what's been shared here, and it wraps me a little like a blanket and helps me get back to sleep. During the day, your virtual hands reaching out to hold mine have pulled me out of some serious dark spots. Or just held me while I thrash about in my dark place. Thank you.

Not sure if it was the sun coming out in full force today, getting to see my therapist this morning, the Giants winning the World Series, or some random combination of those events and more, but my mood has shifted a bit today.

I did get a good cry in this morning, in the car on the way to see my therapist. A Dave Matthews' song that spoke to me so much throughout my pregnancy came on - I think it's the first time I've heard it since Otis died. This line, "When the kids are old enough/we're gonna teach them to fly/You and me together/We can do anything..." And it was this beautiful love song, I felt like it was just for me and E and I would get me all giddy about the prospect of parenting with him. I was so excited to do this, to embark on this parenting journey...not just for myself, to become a mother, but because WE were going to do it. Together.

Today, hearing it again for the first time since Otis died, of course it shattered me. I pulled my car off the road so I could sob. And then the chorus came through the second time, and I heard it differently...You and me together we can do anything...

Anything. We can do anything. But this? Why this? Never ever would I wish this journey on a couple. And yet, there it was, a glimmer of hope, a flicker of light in those lyrics this morning. I actually felt lucky there, that I am married to this man that I love so completely, that we are wandering mostly hopelessly through this crazy terrifying forest/cavern/abyss together. E and I are doing this, together. I am a better woman because of how I love him, and because of how he loves me. I love him more than I ever thought I could. I look at him and my heart soars and swells - 7 weeks ago I couldn't imagine loving him this much - and I look at him and my heart shatters because it hurts me so right to my bones that he doesn't have Otis in his arms right now. As robbed as I feel that my baby boy isn't here with me, it is equally devastating to recognize the emptiness for E.

It is one of those blessings that I never wished I had been put in a situation to recognize that I have so clearly gotten to see Erik's ability to be a dad, to parent so completely, to love unconditionally and with no end through this loss.

(Oh my gosh, the schmaltziness of this is about to make me gag. Apologies. It's late and I'm tired and want to get my thoughts in print and don't have energy for editing or revision. Please note that I also reserve the right for any and all future frustrations with him...)


zubeldia said...

What a beautiful post, my friend, and what a beautiful relationship you and E have.

As you can imagine, I didn't know who the Giants were until Sunday. When I heard the 'Giants' this past couple of weeks I totally thought people were talking 'football'!!

æ said...

right reserved, pea pod.

alex, the giants? really? lol

sarah, i'm glad that our bloggy sac is here for you. always. here. it is such an honor being part of it--and i know i said that when you invited us to this blog, but it's even more true to me today, now, having gotten to be here with you.

i would never wish this on a couple either. and e are such a dynamic couple, you must know this. you really do love intensely and fully, like janelle said. you really, really do. it's an amazing thing about you two, and it's why you KEEP making it (you do keep making it, and i could never have a imagined a couple to become as close and tight after this tragedy as you two have).

love love love you

zubeldia said...

seriously, ash! lol

Sarah said...

I know that you and E will make it through this. Somehow, I just know that somehow, you will make it. Like ae said, I would never wish it on anyone. I am so glad that so many people are here for you through this blog. I am so glad that you can feel how many people love you.

hungry for hunger said...

feel free to be schmaltzy yo...

I can see the strengthening of the E bond. That makes sense to me. It's a chance to see what each other is really made of real, raw, down-to-the-bone spiritual way and, unsurprisingly, you're both made of rainbows, candies, hearts, stars and wonderfulness. Duh.

re: dave matthews. Megan didn't realize that "crash into me" was about sex until, like, 2 years ago.

hayley said...

hey sarah,

just a sleepy footprint from me. love you woman.

x x x

Anonymous said...

Ha! I love the last line.
Together- exactly. You will be one of the couples that makes it through this with love and grace. Changed, but together.
Lots of hugs to you mamma. Thinking of all three of you...

kate said...

I am so glad that you have Erik to lean on (and he you) and that you share such a strong and profound love. I know that you renewed your wedding vows when Otis was born (which i thought was incredibly beautiful) and it is heartening to see your love grow even deeper as you support each other through your grief. It says so much about the both of you, your love for each other and for Otis. I feel quite humbled.

Kate xx

æ said...

hi sarahlu,
maybe this will be one of the comments that you get on your phone, in bed, when having trouble sleeping. or maybe it will just be there when you wake up.

i love you, and i love otis. you know i come here and go through your community blogs from time to time and just feel my heart swell with love and empathy for the other blm's. and for you, of course. i just...i wish these babies could be held again, could be here to know the love that exists for them, could AGE. I wish they could age.

I miss Otis in such a tangible way--amazing that I didn't get to meet him, I feel like he has such a footprint in my life. My daily life. I wish he were in your room right now stirring in his sleep. I wish, I wish, I wish.

love you

brianna said...

Schmaltziness is such a great word. Used entirely too infrequently, I think.
I did not even know the World Series was going on. Shameful.
I wish you never had to move in to this bloggy cul de sac in the first place but since we are both here, I am so glad to have you as a neighbor.

Jenn said...

Awwwww. :)

A strong relationship is such a wonderful blessing to have during a crisis and it's aftermath. I'm glad you have each other.

æ said...

been thinking of you and looking in corners to catch sight of you. xo

ania said...

Dear Sarah,

I really do find myself (mostly) speechless, and shy away from commenting.


I know particular types of grief, different from yours. I know, from the inside looking out, that one can't really 'get it' until one has been there. And, though I've not lost a child, I still have a brilliant awareness that you are living a courage and strength and long-suffering that is awesome.

And you are awesome. In the original sense of the word.

With love.