Friday, December 3, 2010

May 11, 2:something pm

Prompt: Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

BRIGHT LIGHTS. Utter exhaustion. Exhaustion and pain. Lots of pain and tears. Encouraging words from my dear husband; my soothing mom; my measured and somewhat emotionless doctor, Nadine; my sweet nurse friends, Lisa and Lauren; the other kind nurse, whose name I can't remember. Sarcasm from me (because when I'm in pain - physical or emotional - sarcasm is my default mode). And then ...

My husband's face the moment our son was born. A mixture of joy and wonder and the gasping sob he sort of half held in, half choked out. The sounds of Liam's loud protests at the bright, cold world; and all of the pleased and joyful remarks everyone else in the room was making over his wholeness and apparent health.

Then there was the sudden calm when he was laid on my chest. Arms that had never held him, yet a place he knew he belonged, and he was quiet and still.

Most of that day is such a blur. I was so exhausted that most of my memories of May 11, 2010 are more dreamlike than anything else. Little pictures and snippets that swirl about in my brain as if I had been in and out of consciousness, but I wasn't. But Josh's face and Liam's cry and then his calm - those images are indelibly marked on my heart.