This is a picture of me holding Miles on his 7th birthday. Or his sixth. Let me think. 2010, no that's his sixth birthday. There is a funny story about this picture.
I don't remember it.
OK not so funny.
I was ten days out from the c-section experience from hell. I took Versed WILLINGLY to be knocked out as soon as my princess was cut away from me. I didn't know before I took it, that it has an amnesia effect. I am told they showed her to me when she was born. I don't remember. I remember bits and pieces of the surgery and afterward. My days beyond it were like that too. Drugged into a stupor on darvocet or whatever it was, I don't even remember this day.
It upsets me that I can't remember this silliness, and these presents. I admit I've looked at these toys and wondered where they came from sometimes. These pictures don't part the clouds for me though.
This might be the only time in living memory that they ate cake. They hate cake. I can't believe I don't recall this day. I can't recall them EVER willingly eating cake. Where did these memories go? I was awake. Drugged yes but awake. I was nursing a newborn.
A newborn who was eating icing from her big brother.
I also don't even remember this bouncer. It's like looking at pictures from someone else's life, looking at these pictures. But I'm IN them, so I was there.
I forgot that I wrote it. I don't remember any thing about it, and now that I read it, it's still a blank.
I have an unnerving feeling I am missing part of my life that I can't get back, it's just not in my brain. Stress, drugs, I don't know what. But these days that I lived are gone.
This is bothering me a lot.