Thursday, July 21, 2011

A Moment

I look over the mess of files, trying to decipher the method to my madness.

I remember exactly what had come over me. “My daughter just died. Did we really just bury her?” How could this have happened without me knowing? My daughter just died.”

My freelance design project turned out to be due immediately after Christmas, just two weeks after we found out Lyra's heart stopped beating. There was no one else to do the project for me, so I just pushed through and got it done. The brochures turned out fine...great even. But it was all done in a haze with my heart barely beating.

And as I looked over my files to do some revisions on that brochure this past week, I realized how out of it I had been. I didn't do anything irresponsible in regards to my client's work, I just didn't do what I normally did in taking better notes, and being better organized. It just wasn't my normal method of operation.

Of course, we here in the BL community know that after your baby(s) die, there's no going back to “normal”. It's a new state of being that we exist in. And I was very much reminded of that as I worked on this project again. My brain sought out answers to questions that were popping up, and I just couldn't remember what I had done...why I had done certain things in a certain way.

But I do remember her sweet hands, and those perfect little feet of hers. And that the nurses said she had red hair. And that she was everything we'd been hoping for. And that I loved her so much.

I'm finishing up that project this week, establishing some better notes and files to work with in case there are future revisions. This time I have a little boy squealing and reminding me that he needs a nap.

But as memories of her hang in the air, it feels like he and Lyra are occupying the same moment together.  


  1. It's amazing how a memory and a moment can wash so profoundly over you. It's almost like you could be carried right back there by a single thing. Like a puddle or a piece of paper or a smell.

    Thinking of you...

  2. when i glance at pictures of dot and harvey and i all on the mantlepiece together in frames near each other, i get that same feeling of all of us occupying the same space, its lovely isn't it. your are amazing doing a project so soon after losing lyra, commendations to you xxx anne

  3. I hear you. I was in the middle of designing a brochure when Sky died. I've finished it 2 weeks after his birth and when I look at it today I do recognize it (and I even like the look), but I have no recollection of actually designing it.

    Every now and then I stumble upon emails from that time and it's like someone else has written them in my name. I guess the Robot-Me had temporarily taken over control...

  4. This resonates with me. Memories can bring back times/people/places so vividly and from small triggers...

  5. I love this post. The last line is so beautiful. Like Laura this post resonates with me as well - the small triggers -


  6. What has continued to sit with me is that you finished the project. I had never backed out of a freelance project before, but I handed one back the day after Henry went into the hospital and another when he died.

    That and the idea of your two babies sharing a moment.

  7. I just love this piece of writing. I've come back to it a couple of times now and I still don't quite know what to say. I love the image of your memories conjuring Lyra back, to share a space with Simon, even if only temporarily.