Later, I really had a son.
I named my son stinky.
Life with children is happy. The happiness that every child brings to his parents is priceless, eternal and real. Now, when I think back to being with stinky, I can still feel the tenderness that gushes from my heart, which is a tenderness that can melt steel.
I still remember when I was born, smelly was so petite and ugly, and my red skin was wrinkled. Like a little old man, I can't even hug. He has been crying, hungry, drinking, pulling and urinating. It took me a long time to wake up, and all his expressions were only these, so I began to learn how to be a qualified mother, because this little life can only survive on me.
I looked at my children happily and sincerely thanked God for giving me such a beautiful elf.
As the children grow up day by day, I find that I can be so gentle and quiet, so kind and kind, so brave and sincere. Yes, I keep discovering my new self.
Slowly, he began to learn to walk and learn in a walker. He learns quickly. He often sees his own figure walking around the house. He's curious. When he sees himself in the mirror, he smiles and kisses him. When he sees the white gas from the humidifier, he will reach for it. When I cook for him, he will park his car in front of the kitchen and look around curiously. He is very dependent on me. Wherever I am, he will follow me.
I still remember clearly that it was the spring of 1996. The May breeze blows my green windbreaker warmly, and the bright sunshine shines on me warmly. Everything is warm. Breathing the fragrant air, I walked at a brisk pace to pick up the children. Suddenly, it was like being struck by lightning. The happiness that gushed from my heart made me feel heavy. This is a warm current. I have a husband who loves me and a lovely son. How happy I am. It is real and down-to-earth happiness. I was 25 years old and my son just turned one.
Happy, I didn't realize that there was a disaster behind happiness. It always appears at an unexpected moment.
One night when Stinky was one year old and three months old, he suddenly began to cry. My lover and I have been coaxing him until he is tired of crying. The next day, when he opened his eyes, his left eye was red. I took him to the hospital for examination. The doctor just told me to take some anti-inflammatory drugs. So I gave the child some medicine on time, but the swelling still didn't go away. Almost one. After careful examination and investigation, I was finally told that my child's left eye was blind. I was shocked and there were other problems. After a while, the doctor called my lover in, and when he came out, he told me pale: "It may be eye cancer that stinks!"! I suddenly froze: eye cancer? No way! It must be wrong! "My children are healthy and lively. Even if he has eye problems, it can't be cancer! I don't believe it, I'm going to Beijing for reexamination!
The next day, my wife and I took the children to Beijing.
The result finally came out.
As smelly as retinoblastoma, it's really eye cancer!
I suddenly collapsed to the ground, and it took me a long time to find myself in tears. I feel my blood drained and my heart broken. The doctor told me that children with this disease will be blind when they walk, and their faces will be deformed and miserable as the tumor grows and swims. Thinking about the smiling face of children, I don't believe it. He is only one year and three months old! His life has just begun. Is it difficult to end it? Are these all true? The doctor told me that stinky can be treated now, and there may be 50% hope, but eyeball removal surgery, including eye socket, must be done. As a result of chemotherapy, this side of his face will always be his face when he was one year old, but that side will grow normally. Moreover, even if chemotherapy is successful, he can only live to be about seven or eight years old. I really want to give him chemotherapy. At that time, I frantically grabbed the doctor's hand and shouted, operate on him! "But I also know that it is too painful for a one-year-old child. What is even more cruel is that if he lives to be seven or eight years old, if he is sensible, his pain is unimaginable, because he was born to die!
That night, my wife and I made the hardest decision of our lives. I clearly remember my strong lover's bloodless face and sad eyes when he made this decision. I shouted to my lover, "No! The doctor said that if you don't have surgery, the child will be blind, and finally his eyes will look like cauliflower and his head will be deformed. What should I do? When stinky reached out and shouted to me, "Mom, mom, what should I do when you are here?" "I'll go crazy. Do an operation! Whatever the result, we will not regret it. Even if you lose everything, you have to gouge out the bones and treat him! After all, there is still hope to be swept away! I can't watch my child die! " Facing my hysteria, my love, my love hugged me madly and shouted to me, "Chun Er, calm down! Have you ever been so hard as to ask you, "mom, why can't I live?" "Do you want him to face this cold fact with one eye? Are you going to let him suffer physical harm and face these curious eyes? " Then he wiped away a handful of tears.
Kid! Forgive your parents! We are cruel, but there is nothing we can do! We must make such a decision. We would rather let you live happily for a year and leave when you know nothing than leave after you are tortured, although I know this decision will make me feel guilty for life.
The next night, I carried a stink on my back and avoided my relatives. I carried him on my back in a quiet city in the middle of the night and kept walking. I don't know where to take him and I don't care where to go. All I know is that I will hold him and be with him. On the way, I held my stink and asked him, Smelly, mom loves you, you know? Smelly told me: I know. I told him with tears: "smelly, mom loves you, no matter what mom does, you must know that mom loves you." Stinky replied, "I know". I asked him, "Will you be my child in the afterlife?" "My smelly, what all answer, but I didn't say anything. My tears were dripping on his face, so I changed the subject and asked him, "Smelly, do you love me?" He gave a definite answer: "Love".
As the days go by, I still hold a little fantasy and hope, maybe it's misdiagnosis, maybe it's calcification, maybe it's all a dream. The first thing I do every morning is to look my child in the eye. I watched nervously as he opened his eyes. If he smiles at me, if he clearly calls me mom, my day will be very relaxed and happy. But more often, he always lies in my arms with a frown and closed eyes and tells me "Mom, I don't feel well" and then keeps turning his little body. Whenever this time, my heart will tighten together. All I can do is hold him tightly and hope to absorb all his pain into me. I kept telling him, "Smelly, mom is here, don't be afraid, mom is here, and mom is holding you." I taught him many stories and poems, but I never taught him "pain, pain" and related words, so when he left, he would just say "Mom, I feel so bad". Only I know the meaning of this kind of pain, and how much unbearable torture it contains! My stink is only over one year old after all!
My child lived 958 days, two years and seven months, 15 days!
When my stinky was alive, he was surprisingly smart and smart in attendance. He is as cute as other children of his age, no, even smarter. He likes cars. I bought him nearly 100 cars of different sizes, and he fiddled with his car every day. Yes, I spoiled him and gave everything I had to satisfy his wishes. It is a pleasure and happiness for me to watch him play seriously when he is not in pain.
On the day when he was ill, I used a lot of medicine to treat him. I know I'm stupid, but everything is useless. Smelly still had surgery, because something grew out of his eyes, which really stood out. He couldn't close his eyes. Every time I help him close his eyes and see where his eyeballs should have been replaced by gray things, I really want to collapse. I know.
Stinky was pushed into the operating room. His little body was lying on the big bed, so thin and pitiful. I looked at the door of the operating room, and my life seemed to be drained. I silently prayed to the sky: "Let my stinky smell not live, let him die on the operating table." I'm really crazy. Is there such a prayer in the world? But that's what I thought at the time. I knew smelly eyes would be cut off, and his eyes would be a dark hole. I'm scared. I don't know how to face his pain. My wife took my hand, and we sat on the steps outside the operating room, away from the crowd, holding each other's hands tightly. That's the only thing we can take.
The surgical cart was pushed out, but I was lying in another bed. I'm weak. I'm weak at heart. I support myself. I have to get up. I am a mother. I saw his quiet body, small body, lying motionless on the bed. I picked him up. He is so light, I hold him tightly, and I am afraid that he will fly away. His left eye is covered with a big gauze, and his anesthetic is still working. I bit my lip hard-forget it.
Smelly crazy, he frantically pulled the gauze on his face, he was in pain, and the anesthetic strength passed, and he struggled to shout: "Mom, not feeling well!" " Mom, I feel sick! My lover grabbed his hand and shouted to me, "Chun Er, help me catch him quickly!" " ! "! Don't let him take off the gauze! "I reluctantly stood up. At this moment, stinky struggled to reach out to me and shouted out the most unforgettable sentence in my life: "Chun Er, Mom! -"that voice is so sad and helpless, and it is so shocking!
I finally broke down. I fainted for the first time in my life.
When I woke up, stinky had been sedated and fainted.
The days in the hospital are days without memories. All I remember now is the dazzling white gauze on my smelly left eye.
I tried to close my left eye to see the world smelly can see. I felt sad when I saw it, really.
He often looks at me with his only left and right eyes in trust, clear as a spring, and the trust in his eyes makes me sad.
I am very fragile. Never look at the child's left eye again after surgery. I'm always afraid to go in when I don't take my child to change medicine. I hid in the ophthalmic corridor, but I could still hear the stinking voice: "Mom, Mom-". I hid in the elevator and went up and down with it. I tried to cover my ears, but I still heard the smelly crying and the helpless voice calling my mother floating around the hospital.
After the operation, the doctor told me that smelly can live for half a year. I really thought he would live for half a year, but after only two months, the stink disappeared. I don't know. I really don't know if this is a signal that he is leaving. He didn't eat or drink, lying quietly in my arms, floating like a feather. His little eyebrows are frowning tightly, and he is always in my arms.
Who can save my child!
I sent stinky to the hospital. In the ward, my wife went to the hospital to get something. I hugged my child and hugged the child who was about to leave me. I cried without any consideration. I asked stinky, "Why, why did you leave me!" " I am your mother, but why can't I save the child? I can only watch him leave me. The empty ward echoed with my helpless cry, God is still alive! If tears can buy my stink, I'd rather let them flow into the sea! If my life could be exchanged for my children, I would rather die hundreds of millions of times! My child, my stink! Only he can hear my call, but he is in a coma.
Stinky is gone, gone forever, really gone. I will always remember that day,19971kloc-0/0/0.9, when my soul was taken away forever.
But I still thank God that when he left, his face didn't change as much as the doctor predicted. Although his face is slightly deformed, his right eye is not blind. He can still see me when he leaves. He can still hold my hand tightly with his little hand accurately. He still knows that his mother will always be by his side!
I chose to cremate him. The old man told me that such a child who died at an early age had better be buried by the side of the road. I strongly object. Smelly was tortured when he was alive. I can't stand his small body sleeping alone in the cold soil. I can't imagine his body being invaded by insects and ants. I'm afraid he will wake up cold, lonely and cry. I want him to turn into smoke and disperse with the wind. I want him to confess.
But I didn't go to cremation. I dare not go. I can't face my dead child. I'm afraid I can't control myself. My wife and my colleagues stink at me. When I came back, I looked at my wife and wept silently. My wife, my strong husband, didn't cry when the child was ill, but at the moment, he rolled on the bed, grabbed his chest, tore his clothes and burst into tears. I hugged his head. He was as weak as a baby. He muttered to me, "I put the smelly bottle beside him and accompanied him with his little toy." When I took him out of the freezer, he looked like he was sleeping. I kissed his face, and I always felt that he could open his eyes and call for dad at once. I took off the gauze on his face, and I didn't want him to be reborn with that hateful piece.
At night, my wife and I burned smelly toys, clothes, smelly used things, photos and my diary at the crossroads.
I quietly left a wisp of smelly fetal hair and a hundred-day photo of him. In that photo, I have a happy smiling face, hugging the child happily. This is the only connection between me and stinky, and it is also the only commemoration of my mother. Moreover, it is my eternal memory and infinite yearning for stinky.
I still can't remember how my lover and I got through it that day. I don't remember that night.
The next morning, I cut my pajamas and the vest that my lover often wears when sleeping, and cut it everywhere on my chest. I carefully wrapped the smelly gray. I hope I can feel the warmth, my parents' concern and my body temperature. However, when I went to bury the child, my lover still wouldn't let me go, so I still don't know where my beloved smelly grave is.
My child really left this time. I will never see him again in my life, never hear his crisp smile, never hear his unique voice calling for my mother.
Except in dreams.