Numb

This has been a week of numb. Last Monday afternoon I had oral surgery, and the oral surgeon did a lovely job of ensuring that the entire left side of my mouth was wonderfully numb for the following 15-18 hours. Although probably not related to the xylocaine injected at the end of the surgery, that left side of my mouth has gone in and out of numbness all week, the numbness  alternating with soreness. My brain seems to have been equally numbed. Perhaps it is natural immersion in the physical recovery, but I've been enjoying a sojourn in the land of Denial pretty much all week. Well, sort of...

Did you know research has found that the cells of one's child remain in the mother's body for decades? I love the thought that each of my children continues to physically live within me and my brain long after the umbilical cord is cut. Interestingly, there is conjecture whether these cells have a positive, a negative or no real effect on a mother's body and health. It doesn't matter to me. I love the idea that each of my five children continues to live in me. It is, perhaps, one of the most comforting concepts I've heard since Brandon's death. No matter the current status of each of my children's physical bodies, a bit of their physical essence remains with me always.

However, I don't believe it is only their physical cells/selves that continue to live within me. I firmly believe, especially after this last year, that a mother continues to hold some crucial bit of each of her children's souls within her. It may not be possible for research to demonstrate this. I don't care. I believe a bit of the the eternal essence of each of my children remains with me always.

So I have been numb this last week in body but also in soul. The physical and eternal presence of Brandon within me continues to affect my ability to focus. My brain and its ability to focus continues to come and to go. I keep thinking my brain is back, but then I find it gone on walkabout again. How much is related to the physical and how much to the eternal essences, I couldn't say. I am in new territory, but I am glad that science says each of my five babies, including Brandon, are here quite literally with me.


Friday morning, December 14, in an inexplicable and senseless horrific act, about 26 women in Newtown, CT were made sorrowfull mothers.  I cannot believe innocent children or the heroic teachers and administrators who died trying to protect them need our prayers, but I feel certain their mothers and families could benefit from our prayer for a long time to come. Another sorrowfull mother who deserves continued thoughts and prayers is Dorothy (Champion) Hanson, whose daughter Nancy Champion Lanza died at the hands of her son and Ms. Hanson's grandson, Adam Lanza. May these sorrowfull mothers find some comfort, even occasionally, in knowing that their innocent babies continue to live in them in more than mere memory.