and then there are the memories I forget

[brightlotusmoon]

I'm watching that soap opera, "All My Children," because one of the characters has a very premature baby in the hospital, and there's the scene where she finally holds her son, and oh gods he's so tiny, he's so tiny in her arms -- no, in her hands, I know it's a doll but it's the right size, because when I was born, I was the size of a doll, and there's this pain deep inside me that I can't even fathom. The actress isn't even wearing makeup, she looks so raw, she looks like she's really crying, and she's holding that doll like a real infant, and it looks too real, and this pain is too real, because that was me, twenty-eight years ago, all those tubes and machines and needles, and the tape -- all the tape all over my body, holding down the IV needles, and I still have so many scars; and this reminds me that every day is a gift, every single day I am alive is a precious day, for every preemie baby, for any mother and father who stood by that incubator with the deepest terror turning their blood to ice, will their baby live? I don't know how this storyline will happen, if this baby will be damaged, if he will develop cerebral palsy or any of the many problems that preemies fall to, but the writers and the actors are doing this so well, and I am honestly impressed, and I have decided that Alicia Minshew is an extraordinary actress.
Part of me wants to change the channel. For years and years, I couldn't watch any documentaries about extreme preemies, could not read any stories or articles about preemies, without bursting into tears and falling into panic attacks. It was always too close. But it has gotten better. Now there is just the ache. And it's okay.
We're strong, all us preemies.