Even as I say it,
I know the statement is a lie.
It implies that there had been a point when it had stopped.
I can't escape the memories.
The triggers are everywhere,
attacking without warning.
Yesterday it was a diaper commercial.
A smiling baby crawled across the floor,
"No gap waste band," the announcer promised.
The baby looked so happy.
His mother looked so happy.
The tears fell.
I had a baby once.
She never crawled.
I see the commercial and am back in that hospital,
asking the nurses to bring a smaller size.
"These ones no longer fit."
I watched as she grew smaller each day.
It scared me.
When she was born she wore the newborn size.
By the time she left,
her body had regressed.
Even preemie diapers eventually hung loosely.
There is a unique desperation that comes in bearing witness
to something going so against the natural order of things.
Children are supposed to grow.
She became more fragile,
wasting away as the greedy chemo and infection staked their claims.
"No!" I should have shouted.
"Not her! You can't have her!"
Would that have made a difference?
Would anything have made a difference?
How could a child with such a huge spirit,
a child of such strength,
have left this earth so much smaller than when she entered it?
There are so many...
How could any of this have happened?