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Moment of weakness

March 4, 2012

Fourteen years ago today I gave birth to my second child. That was a long time ago. She was born prematurely, and lived her entire month of life in an incubator in the neonatal intensive care unit at the Children’s Hospital before she died.

The hospital gave me a box for her memories, and today is one of those rare days that I would like to seek comfort in those memories. I was uncomfortable having her photographed, but I do believe there may be a picture or two in there. I don’t remember moving the box to this address.

I pause to breathe, and remember that it didn’t move to my last address either. In fact, there are two of these boxes. That’s not a source of comfort for me, and it’s more than I want to remember on this day.

Then I remember that the children’s father threatened to destroy the boxes in a fit of rage and hatred as we were divorcing, and I believed that he would do it. This I did not need to remember.

And now, I recall where they are.

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One Comment
  1. I can not help but shudder and then applaud your strength. When all is said and done, all your children live on.

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