GIFT..SO DIFFERENT...

I'm giving a new, deep stroller to a lonely girl in need. Eight words, I counted them to see how much the ad would cost. One word for each day of my son's life. He came into the world for just a moment and then disappeared. But no one mourns for him anymore. His loved ones didn't have time to get to know him and love him. My

father only cried like a child the first day, when we took the unconscious newborn to the hospital...but...by the next day he seemed to have come to terms with his grandson's death. I, however, refused to believe he was gone forever. Something bad had happened, but it was impossible that it couldn't be fixed somehow. After all, my life...the life of a then seventeen-year-old girl couldn't be ruined in an hour.

Someone will soon call from the hospital... and... and say that it's a mistake, that it wasn't my child who died....

Then my boyfriend... Krzysiek... said - "..I'll go order a coffin..."

...How could he believe that my... Our son is dead?!!!...He was born healthy!

I sat on the floor by the fireplace and decided to wait... wait for the situation to clear up...

After about an hour, Krzysztof returned from the funeral home... - "they'll make the coffin for Friday" - he said...

I did what they expected me to do... I went to the store

... I bought the most wonderful... most expensive clothes, a rattle, diapers... ...... I was walking home like a sleepwalker...

When I went to dress the little one... less than two and a half kilograms Igor... he looked as if he was sleeping... only... he was as cold as an icicle and as stiff as metal...

... I took him in my arms and asked...

- "...Son... Igor... let mommy dress you... don't let strangers dress you... who will break your arms..."...

And then my little baby softened in my hands... He wanted... me... to dress him.

I barely remember the day of the funeral...there was a priest, my father, my child's father, and a few friends.

I didn't see my child in the coffin. I didn't allow it to be opened.

The entire funeral...it...it was like watching some macabre play...

I didn't shed a single tear

...I returned home in gloomy silence, and that's how it stayed....

Mrs. Maria...my "nanny"...and...and my second "mother"...from the time...when the...the real one closed her eyes...the dear old lady...set one meal after another before me...but I...still felt no hunger or thirst. I was numb. All my daily activities seemed pointless and unnecessary. I washed and changed only out of habit.

My breasts were full of milk that my little son no longer needed.

Those eight days...during which I could hold him, touch him, kiss him, and feed him...seemed like a dream.

My mind and heart still couldn't accept that I had truly lost him.

Only my aching body reminded me that my child was no longer with me.

Days passed...Krzysiek returned to work...and I...I didn't have much to do...—and yet my days and nights were supposed to be filled to the brim...for my baby!!!

I mindlessly sat in front of the television...watching programs for farmers, teenagers, and politicians. I couldn't stand the programs for young mothers. Why do they keep airing them...if I no longer need them...? I was angry...

My father looked at me...I listened to his muffled sighs, sometimes he would leave...he would leave and cry.

One morning...when I was home alone...I reached into the drawer where my father filed his bills.

At the very bottom... lay a bill from the funeral home.

Staring at that piece of paper, I realized that my little son had truly died... that he was dead...

If he were alive... I wouldn't feel this pain in my chest. We would be a family, not a group of people living alone... under one roof. So lonely and strangers.

...I wanted to cry... but I couldn't... my despair found no outlet....

There were no sleeping pills in the medicine cabinet. I didn't have the strength to... to look for another way to kill myself....

That was my life. Pretending... as if nothing had happened... nothing had changed...

...One day I met a friend in my neighborhood... We didn't see each other for a long time...

"Oh! It's over!" - she exclaimed, pointing to my flat stomach...

..- Yes.. it's all over - I repeated with resignation...

She asked again if it was a boy.. or a girl... - I'm in a hurry.. - I replied... and.. and walked away...

leaving her astonished and offended in the middle of the sidewalk.......

...I couldn't say the words: "..my Child has died.."...

That day, for the first time since the funeral.. I went to the cemetery....... Everything was so cold and alien there.. so very alien....

.. A tiny.. granite monument in the shape of a heart... with an inscription carved on it... "..Why??.." ...I couldn't gather my thoughts.. I couldn't stand it... I started crying without tears... Crying from enormous helplessness and terrifying, terrible pain... I ran out of the cemetery... I ran away...

....... I didn't tell anyone that I was there.....

..I wonder about one thing...why all the people around me...avoided contact with me..????...why didn't I hear a single word of sympathy???..not even a mention of my son......????.....

..and after all, one remembers adults...then one does not feel so abandoned after the death of a loved one...But I...hmm...I have no memories at all! ..and people ..act as if He never existed...I've never heard anyone say: .." ..remember how He smiled..? .."

...When four months had passed since my Child's birth and death...even my body began to forget about Him...

..My breasts had long since stopped producing milk...Nothing hurt anymore...

..Clothes..bottles..pacifiers..- all of it was hidden somewhere in wardrobes and drawers....Our entire future...hope and despair discreetly hidden in the nooks and crannies of the house.........Only that damn stroller was constantly in my way...it was too big..to not be noticed...

..hmm..

..My father bought it on the day my son was born..guided by some superstition that you buy a stroller only when the child is already born..so as not to jinx it...Fuck! ..and I didn't even have time to use it.

It was too frosty to walk outside with a few-day-old baby...

..so it stood in my way...everyone was afraid to take it out...since I hadn't mentioned it myself...and I...I tortured myself like a masochist...when every time I passed it...it felt like someone was stabbing me in the stomach...with a sharp knife...that's why I finally...decided to give it away....Let people read the announcement...as if it were an hourglass for the death of my child...my little son.

..Composing the words of the announcement...tears flow from my eyes.........So long-awaited tears of despair and regret....

Finally, I go to Dad's room..I show him the note with the announcement text...

..- I can't just hang around forever - I explain with a trembling voice........

...- I didn't have the courage to propose this to you...but I've been thinking about it for a long time - whispers Father...

...- Dad... I know I'm complaining about a cruel fate...that promised me the joy of motherhood and allowed me to taste it, ...and then brutally took away the meaning and joy of life from me.........................

My Father listens to my words with his head bowed...He wipes his nose loudly and thoroughly to hide his tears...

..- I could come to terms with anything...but not with this senseless death...........

..........And I...burst into tears again...but this time...it's a cry of relief.....

..Today, when so much time has passed...I go to the grave of my Child with peace...I meet Krzysztof there very often...(I couldn't be with Him...we broke up)...We became friends...I hug Him...standing over the grave of Our Child and in my mind I thank Him for...for teaching me to Love and...and that thanks to His Love I could survive eight days with my little...miraculous Child...Maybe one day I will have the courage and...and I will tell Him this...looking into His eyes full of Love...

...I remember...when I got pregnant how terrified I was...I cried...I didn't want to accept the thought of giving birth to a child...until the moment when...

..One night...two days before the scheduled appointment with the gynecologist...(for a known reason)...I dreamed of my Mother....she stood

over my bed and said...: - My daughter...when you I gave birth... I was also seventeen years old and it was the happiest day in my short but wonderful life... you are the best gift I could have received from life... and suddenly you were taken away from me... you left... (... She spoke as if I had died... left, not her...)... so now... don't take my grandson away from me... please...

.. I didn't understand those words then... today I know... I understand what she wanted to tell me...

.. she simply took him away from me... she wanted to have my little son with her... wherever he was... she wanted to have a part of me... the person... she loved most in the whole world... ..........

..........

.. Why was she with me for such a short time...????... if she had lived... my little son would have lived too...

.. Now I don't have a father... he passed away on Christmas last year.............

... One question is bothering me... and I keep wondering over one thing......

...I am a good person...for which fate punished me so cruelly by taking away the three most beloved beings in my life....and....and I can't understand one thing...

..Why hasn't my heart broken yet..??..

...Why..?????.....