What If

With a stillborn child there are few memories to look back on, and none with a smiling, living child. Instead, "what if"s come up every day. What might have been is the trigger instead of remembering moments. How old would she be now? What would her smile look like? When would she start to crawl? What would her cry sound like? What if I had been able to know all these things? I wish I did.

There is a song by Pink called "Beam Me Up" that keeps running through my head. The chorus, especially. It goes like this:

"Could you beam me up,

Give me a minute, I don't know what I'd say in it

I'd probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face

Beam me up,

Let me be lighter, I'm tired of being a fighter,

I think a minute's enough,

Just beam me up."

Except, I don't think a minute would be enough, and I've thought up a list of what I would say if I could talk to Sadie for a while. I have a lot of questions. A lot of what ifs and whys. 

I thought I was okay without the answers, and I think I can be and I will be. Lately, though, I am not. I guess it's just another stage of this bizarre thing called grief.