Buried Memories

"A Thousand Words Can't Bring You Back,
I Know Because I Tried
And Neither Can a Million Tears
I Know Because I Cried."
~Author Unknown

Sometimes certain things trigger memories. A bit of colone can remind you of a loved one. A song on the radio, of a special time in your life. A location of a special moment.

Most of the time that memory is buried in the back of our minds... waiting there to be released. If its a painful memory, we sometimes purposely bury it... stick it way back there with our high school trig class or that embarrassing moment you accidentally burped in front of your oh so hot and sophisticated date.

I have quite a few sad memories I've buried in the back of my mind.. some I let out once and awhile, just because they are both painful and sweet... others I never let out. One thought of it and I make myself very busy in order to forget for awhile again.

One memory that keeps coming back to me these last few days was triggered by a song.. a simple sweet love song that I wish was not associated with the circumstance, because the radio stations love to play it when I'm not in the mood to hear it.

The song is Vanessa Carltons "A Thousand Miles."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwkej79U3ek

About 10 years ago, John and I had our little baby Elizabeth, times were good. We were wrapped up in her... our lives were her. Everything she did we were amazed by. She was our little perfect princess.

I thought it would be so wonderful to give this little beauty a sibling. I wanted her to have someone if something ever happened to John and I. So we started to fun process of baby #2.

But the process was a struggle. It took a long time to get pregnant, I kept getting sick and my cycle was a mess. We decided to take a break.

Then during the break, I got pregnant! I was so excited. John was less so because my pregnancy with Elizabeth had been very hard on us. I was hospitalized most the time, in bed the rest. She kept wanting to join us early.

I took it easy via my doctors orders... She told me, "Nothing much preventive wise can be done for preterm labor the first 3 months, just take it easy, eat well, take care of yourself."

So that's what I did. Elizabeth and I would lay in bed and watch TV, or color or eat brownies :)

It was a precious time with her. A time with no hurry, just her and I cuddling.

I started getting flu like symptoms around the third month. I wrote it off as morning sickness. I could not even let a smell or a food come near me or I would be in the bathroom for hours. It was horrible.

Now, this all sounds normal, right? Puking prego lady who hates the smell of tacos...nothing special.

Then the cramping started... it lasted for days. The doctor could not do anything for me... it was to early in the pregnancy they said.

Two days later, at about 2am.. I got up to use the restroom and gave birth to my baby boy. I sat there for a long time and just cried... cried and cried and cried.

I had never felt such sadness in my life. I did not know this type of sorrow even existed.

Now, looking back, I realize it was my first real trauma, my first real heart break. I've lost other babies sense that time so many years ago, and all where painful and hard. But for some reason, that experience is burned into my mind with such clarity and such color, that it will be there way after my death. I know I'll take it with me into the afterlife, but as a hope of reunion when I meet those angels in heaven.

This is why when someone asks me about pregnancy and having babies I sometimes get a little skittish. The 10 years I spent having my 4 babies, I was always pregnant or nursing. I never took a break. I was determined to get the family I wanted, no matter how much pain I had to endure.

I'm glad now I was so single minded and stubborn... although it put so much stress on my marriage, and did take my time away for some of the kids when they were very little.

While most moms took their toddlers to the playground, i was in bed.... with my toddler or toddlers. My mom would come over and take them out for awhile and they would come back with great fun stories, but I missed most of it.

My sister would come by, stick me in the car and sneak me out for lunch or mom would wheel me around target in a wheel chair. But for the most part, I spent a good part of 10 years in my bed.

Now, I am a energetic person. Before this time I had never spent more then 5 hours in bed. I hated sleep, because you could sleep when you died... i wanted to always be doing something. My mother in law called me "a jumping jelly bean." My mom said I was just active, my dad would say, "awww, she got that from me." But whatever it was, I never stopped...ever.

So God was teaching me a lesson in patience, endurance, strength of mind and character.

A lesson that was painful, hard, and sad. I stuck with it though and taught myself how to design websites while in bed with my laptop. I started my own little business in bed. I read every book on the shelves, watched every episode of my favorite shows. Did all the things you have to sit for.

Now, the memory of that first loose is even a little harder because that baby was buried in Va. So instead of the others which kind of disappeared into heaven, the first has a permanent marker here on earth.

On the way to our small family funeral, the song by Vanessa Carlton came on, and pulled my heart stings to a point of snapping.

And to this day, i hear the song on the radio and listen to it, and see the whole day flash in my mind like I'm watching a movie. And its a tear jerker.