“The years that are gone seem like dreams—if one might go on sleeping and dreaming—but to wake up and find—oh! well! Perhaps it is better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life.”
- Edna, The Awakening
I remembered something today.
I remember when the nurse came in my room on Saturday all those months ago. I remember being ready to leave, moving slowly, deliberately, so as not to jar my incision. I remember standing near the window in my room. The nurse was shorter than me and her hair was dark. She, like all the other nurses, exuded sympathy when she entered my room. Of course they knew. I remember the nurse saying she was sorry. Sorry about my baby. She meant it; I could tell.
I spoke as deliberately as I moved: "Thank you. He was worth it. It's really important to me that people know. He was worth it."
She began to cry and left the room.
It is as easy for me to forget that Isaac was worth it as it is for me to remember that moment and that feeling. Maybe it sounds odd, but the pain can be debilitating. Sometimes I don't want to go there. Most of the time I struggle with knowing that these feelings are just part of who I am. But so is Isaac. His short life and death awakened in me something that I may never fully understand. I think it's strength and determination and maybe some grace. It's been so hard, and Christmas has made this month even harder, but I'm so thankful.
Perhaps it IS better to wake up after all, even to suffer, rather than to remain a dupe to illusions all one’s life. After all, my life is richer and more meaningful now.