Sunday, March 29, 2015

On Redemption

#writeingriefDay 11

Saved. Fixed. I have written about this. About how I can't be fixed. About how I don't need to be fixed. 

I know that's what those who love me would like to do. I would like to fix things for my people who hurt, too. I'm not sure there is ever a situation that I direly wanted to fix that I could actually fix. 

What I could do is witness. And that is what I need. That is all that I need from my people who want to fix me. 

As for the bullshit some tout about needing to be broken in order to be better, I don't know if I can touch that today. I see grief memes about redemption and whatnot almost every day if I actually scroll through my feed. I just can't buy it, and I can't stand that some people do buy that. It doesn't feel honest to me. It's trying to label something that cannot be labeled. Trying to explain it away with a pretty story. You can't take a dead person and put a bow on top of their ashes and make it anything than what it is. 

I hope with every ounce of my being that my story ends with an alive baby sibling for my sons. If that happens, will I feel redeemed? Will I feel like I earned it or maybe like my dead daughter. dead babies. were meant to die? No. Fuck no. 

I will forever ache for the babies I have lost. 

And if my story ends with more loss? Will I have earned that somehow? Am I meant to continue to give birth to death? Over and over and over. 

I wish life worked out so that magical thinking actually got results. No, I don't even know if I wish that because that is not how it works.

I wish my daughter had lived. That's really it. No redemption story will ever make me want anything else. I can want my daughter to have lived while also fiercely loving a new baby who lives. I can want both of those things just as I can be broken and joyful and furious.