Where is my baby? I haven’t forgotten to wonder. To look for the missing child, to glance around and for just a split second wonder where she went, what she’s like, and why no one else is looking for her. Mix in gratitude and complete and utter adoration of the child who is now here instead, and the emotions become confused, and overwhelming
I have still not put her remains into the ground. I can still not bear that one last separation, as I can not bear the photographs of myself at age 3. They whisper to me of all the likenesses we might have shared. There is no me without her, no her without me… and now another little soul becomes entwined, and suddenly we are three.
My 2 month old baby, proceeding me in death, living always an imaginary life somewhere below my surface. And my strong, jovial, strong-willed 4 month old, inciting pleas for mercy from my darkest places. Mercy on me, death crone. Mercy on me, universe. This daughter, let her stay, let my sacrifice satisfy your appetites.
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