bringing out the pictures

i look at Eden, and i think i know those ears. i've seen that forehead wrinkle. there is something familiar about those cheeks. it really hits me when i see her sleeping with her mouth hanging open... she looks like Carli. it's cute, but also disturbing. why disturbing? she looks like Carli. when she's sleeping, and i'm thinking that... i'm not thinking about how peaceful she looks... i'm thinking she looks dead. see? disturbing.


today, i had to pull out Carli's pictures. i had to know. how much does she actually look like Carli?


i don't look at Carli's pictures often. maybe three times since we came home after she died. they always upset me. her pictures are not how i remember her. of course i remember that she was red, and underdeveloped... but the pictures taken by the hospital staff look more like something from a medical textbook. they are scary.


there are even a few pictures of her tiny naked body. head to toe. dead. i think about these pictures and i'm torn between extreme anger and thankfulness. angry because how dare they take off her dress? how dare they leave her naked? and take pictures? but also thankful... because i didn't look at her feet. i didn't see her hands. i never thought to take in every aspect of her tiny body. with the pictures, i can do that. i just wish i could go back and do it in person. i also wish i could go back and take my own pictures... ones that aren't so scary and upsetting.


i look at Carli's pictures when no one else is around. it's like pulling out my own little secret stash of memories. i quickly flip through them. search for the ones where i can see her ears. her cheeks. her forehead. yes, they do look like immature versions of Eden's features. and, just to look one more time... i flip through for the pictures showing her hands, feet, and legs. perfect. everything developed right on schedule. no outward evidence that anything was ever wrong with her. stupid fluid.


now, i'm upset again. stupid pictures. i put them back in the booklet that's in the bottom of the box, and put the box back in the bigger box, with the bible and blanket on top. right where they belong. hidden. where they can't upset me for another few months.


it's so strange to strongly hate a possession that i'm so grateful to have. the pictures upset me, they make me angry... but if my house were burning down... i'd be rescuing that box.