Monday, June 21, 2010

Lost out

Last Friday Brian and I went to the movies with his brother and sister in law. Actually, we went to the Drive-In, an experience I'd only had once previously. Living in a big city with lots of light pollution makes 'in-door' movies much more practical, but we decided for a change we'd meet them an hour and 20 minutes away in 'the country' at the Drive-In.

It was a double feature playing Toy Story 3 and Prince of Persia. Toy Story 3=EXCELLENT, Prince of Persia=Not so much (other than Jake Gyllenhaal's was the highlight of the movie).

Before the movie started, I was sitting in the field in a lawn chair in front of our car waiting for the sun to go down. I suppose the two movies that were about to play were were considered 'kid friendly', so there were a TON of children there. Children kicking balls, children racing each other, children yelling "mom I have to pee", children eating snacks. I haven't spent much time around children since Aidan died and it was just mind blowing to see them all. As I sat and watched them. I couldn't take my eyes off some of the young boys. I watched the way they moved, the way they ran, the way they played. I was looking at them and wondering if that's what Aidan would have been like. Would he have worn a soccer jersey like that? Would he have wanted long hair like that boy? Would he have been partial to popcorn like that kid seems to be, or would he have preferred ice cream like that one? Would he have stuck around close to the car, not letting mom and dad out of sight like that kid? Or would he have been off and running in the field as soon as the parking break was engaged?

Maybe because the light was right, hazy, you know, filtering through the evening atmosphere just-so, but I could almost see him. My little ghost boy. Running, playing, keeping up with the other kids. Not that he would have been anywhere near that age yet (hell he's not even supposed to be BORN yet...I should be 32 weeks and counting), but to suddenly be around other 'normal' was like a glimpse into an alternate reality. One where he never died.

So it's with this mindset that I went into watching the first film...Toy Story 3. And, it's of course, about a boy, Andy, the main 'person' in Toy Story who is all grown up and leaving for college.

Oh...I suppose I should pause here and warn you, I'm about to give away some small stuff about the ending of Toy Story 3, so discontinue reading now if you have any major desire to keep the plot a surprise.



Still with me? Okay. So at the end, I cried. I don't think anyone but my husband saw. Andy was off to college and Buzz and Woody had to let him go, and Andy had to make the decision to leave his toys behind. I started sobbing because Aidan will never have toys. It hit me that evening, after watching all those other children, and after seeing it so clearly laid out in Toy Story 3. That he will never get to play. Still, two months later, I run into losses in my head that I haven't thought of yet. Friday's was that Aidan will never play. And this loss was somewhat different from a lot of the others, because it wasn't MY loss. I had a childhood. I got to play. But Aidan never will. As much as he never knew it, Aidan lost out. He lost out on life, of course, but somehow the significance of never getting to play was big to me. According to my belief system, he will never 'know' what he missed...but I will. I will know what he should have had...but doesn't.

And realizing somehow that he never got to play twists the knife in my gut just a little bit deeper.

I miss you baby boy. I'm sorry.

What losses do you feel keenly for your baby? What is one thing that you wish he or she had got to experience?


  1. I live near an elementary school - easily within walking distance. Our whole neighborhood is filled with families with young children. On the last day of school, I was taking a walk in the evening, and the streets were full of children. Parents were outside in their front yards watching their older kids on bikes, and toddlers in the front yard. There was this excitement in the air. Over and over again I heard shouts from the children like, "No more school!" "I love summer!"

    It hit me like a ton of bricks that my babies will never have that glorious "freedom" moment of those first few days when school lets out for summer. No long, lazy summer days where you roam the neighborhood with your friends. I don't get to be excited with my children about the end of the school year and watch them have the time of their lives with the other neighborhood kids. My babies will never make friends.

  2. Great post. Funny you saw TS3 this weekend too! I got so sad reading this. This is why I hate when people say crap like, "Oh Stevie's in a better place now." Whatever. She totally missed out on THIS place. On playing with toys and the joy that is childhood. Like you said, she lost out. :(

    I hate that both of our babies lost out. It's not fair. :(

  3. no specific thing that i think kenny missed out on, just the opportunity be loved and raised by us. we were SO excited about him, and i genuinely believe we would have been excellent parents to him. and we are missing out on holding him and playing with him and teaching him and hugging him and just being his parents.

  4. I have a 2 year old nephew and we are moving in 2 months - just an 8 minute walk from his house. When we found out I was pregnant, we all got excited that Ben and my baby would be relatively close in age. Then when we found out I was having a boy, we thought they would be even closer. Ben just loves kids and it wouldn't have mattered to him that they were 2.5 years apart. We were really looking forward to seeing them play together, to be able to walk to each other's houses and for the kids to have a friend so close by. I have seen Ben alot in the past 3 weeks. Watching him run around, laugh like crazy at some silly little thing, to see his excitement when he sees his Mom (my sister) - he makes me happy, but it makes me sad that I will never have those things with Jacob. Sure, I may them with another baby (I hope!), but never with my first baby who I wanted to badly. When Ben hugs me, I love it, but I will never feel Jacob's hugs or his head on my shoulder, or him sleeping in my arms. I am also sad that I won't see Jacob and my husband together. Ted has a lot of fun with Ben. I saw his carrying Ben yesterday and it broke my heart because he is missing out on all that with his own son.

    I really wish that Jacob got to feel me hug and kiss him. I was only able to do that after he died.

    You commented on one of my posts on my blog about being a Mount Sinai patient. I hadn't been seen there yet, but I was supposed to go for an ultrasound on June 7th (lost Jacob on June 1st). There was something wrong with his left foot (which was likely caused by amniotic bands as we discovered when he was born) that I was being checked for.

    You also mentioned my going back to work after 2 weeks and I noticed that you are a nurse. There is no way that I could have gone back yet if I was a nurse. I have a desk job where I'm not making any life and death decisions/actions. I have to check everything I do about 3 times right now because I'm not concentrating enough on things.