There's a light right above our sink. For 14-15 weeks, it was on 24/7, except for that one time when it burnt out. I left it on one night because I didn't want to have the light on in the hallway. That light would have woken up my hubby, or my baby. It probably would have kept me up too, even if I was only sleeping no more than two hours at a time. I needed this light, so that I could go down the stairs without tripping, especially while holding Preston. Perhaps I was paranoid to drop him not that I can ever see myself letting that happen. I'm notoriously klutzy though, so I didn't want to risk it. We did everything right, everything by the book, even when that meant taking precautions.
The light above the sink helped me get Preston's bottle ready - whether that meant heating up pumped breastmilk, or preparing formula. It allowed me to see as I washed his bottles, pacifiers and pumping supplies, all the while he slept in the living room, a few steps away. It gave me just enough light, to do what I needed, while providing a quiet, calm environment for my son.
This light has been off for months, and months. I've had to turn it on a couple times, like today and it triggers so many memories. My husband can't stand to see this light on. I wouldn't be surprised if he's thought about taking this light out altogether.
It's tough, to have this light on, and not see the drying bottle rack on to the right of the sink. It's difficult to not have bottles to wash, to not have that little grey tub we brought back from the hospital, filled with bottles and boiling hot water. It's challenging to be at the sink, under this bright light without lullabies playing in the background from Preston's swing as it sways him to sleep.
Those things aren't far away. Bottles in Preston's closet and a few in the garage, in a bag in the baby carrier. I'm so thankful that Barry went to pick that up from the nanny's. I couldn't deal with it. Not now, not 10 months ago. The drying rack may be Preston's closet, or perhaps in a cupboard with the baby bullet & supplies - which I never got to use. The swing is in the nursery, along with the bouncer, and the bassinet, and the mini bassinet. Out of sight, out of mind? If only it were so easy.
It's more like out of sight, less on my mind. Less in my face. Less of a reminder of what's missing, even if I'm ever so aware of my baby not being here. There are just certain things, certain smells, certain sounds, certain situations that trigger certain memories which are more difficult to live with.
For today though, turning on that light to do dishes, wasn't as painful as in the past. It made me smile to remember all those evenings I spent with Preston. All those dishes I did. My hands got so dry. While I can not bring back the past, I cannot relive all those precious moments - I have the memories. I hope to never lose my mind so that I can remember until my time comes.
Triggers can be painful. But every now and then, the pain is worth the reminder. I hadn't thought about those evenings in this way in a long time. Much like I hadn't seen a beautiful sunset in months. It was a purple haze of a sunset, and it totally made me think of Preston. And it made me smile.
As soon as I saw this picture, I thought: I bet she kept that light on at night for when Preston was hungry. I pray to God every night that he helps me keep what few memories I have of my boys alive and clear, and I pray that he does the same for you. Time tends to make us forget little things, or our view of the past changes. But by you writing all of this in your blog, you will remember so much more than any other mom. You'll be able to read this and look back and remember details and feelings and feel like you are right back there, with Preston. I hope that someday, it will be easier to be around his things. I know for me, I couldn't open the boys' closet without crying - all the clothes they never got to wear just made me break down. But after awhile, it was therapuetic to touch these items. It made me smile to read that turning on that light wasn't as painful as it has been. You are doing an amazing job, mama. Preston is so proud, I just know it.
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