I like boys, I always think that boys are better at raising skin.
Later, I really had a son.
I gave my son a name - stink.
The days of having children are happy, and the happiness that each child brings to parents is priceless, eternal and real. Now, when I reverberate with the stench, I can still feel the gentleness that comes from the bottom of my heart. It is a gentleness that melts steel.
I still remember that when I was born, I was so petite and ugly. The red skin is wrinkled, like a little old man. I didn't even dare to touch him and dare not hold him. He kept crying. Hungry also cry, thirsty also cry, pull and cry, urine also cry. It took me a long time to wake up, and all his expressions are only these. So I began to learn how to be a qualified mother. Because this little life can only survive by me, he will only feel safe in my arms, will sleep quietly, and will stop crying.
I looked at my child happily and sincerely thank God for giving me such a beautiful elf.
As the child grows up day by day, I find that I can be so gentle and quiet, can be kind and kind, so brave and sincere. Yes, I keep discovering this new self.
Slowly, he began to learn to walk. He started learning in the walker. He learned very quickly. I often see his figure rushing at home. He was very curious. He saw that he would smile in the mirror, then kissed him and saw that the white gas from the humidifier would reach out and grab it. When I cook for him, he will park the car at the door of the kitchen and look at it curiously. He is very dependent on me, no matter where I am, he follows. Even if I was taking a shower and going to the bathroom, he would pound the door heavily and wait for me to go out quietly when I was inside.
I still remember clearly that it was the spring of 1996, and the breeze in May gently blew my green short trench coat. The bright sunshine shines warmly on me. Everything is warm. I breathe the fragrant air and take my brisk pace to pick up my children. Suddenly, it was like being struck by lightning. The happiness that came out of my heart made me suffocate. It was a warm undercurrent that gently flowed through my body until my fingers. At that moment, I asked myself: What else is not satisfied? I have a husband who loves me and a lovely son. How happy I am. It is a kind of real and solid happiness. I was 25 years old that year and my son was just one year old.
Happy me, I didn’t realize that the disaster was hidden behind my happiness. It always comes when you don't care.
One night in his one year and three months, he suddenly cried, and my lover and I kept glaring at him, but he kept crying until he was tired and he slept. 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 that it would be nice to have some anti-inflammatory potions. So, I give my child medicine on time. But the red has not disappeared. It took me a week to take the child to check. This time, the doctor seemed to be very nervous. He checked it carefully and checked it. Finally, he told me that the child’s left eye was blind. Moreover, I am afraid there are other problems. I am shocked! After a while, the doctor called my lover in. When the lover came out, he told me palely: "Smelly smell may be eye cancer!" I suddenly stunned: "Eye cancer? Impossible! It must be wrong!" The child is healthy and lively, even if his eyes have problems, it is not likely to be cancer! I do not believe! I am going to Beijing to review!
The next day, my lover and I went to Beijing with our children.
The result finally came out.
The stench is really a retinoblastoma. Really eye cancer!
I fell to the ground and I found out that I had burst into tears. I felt the blood was drained and my heart was broken. The doctor told me that the child with this disease is walking; both eyes will be paralyzed, and as the tumor grows up and wanders, the face will be deformed and it will be terrible. Thinking of the child's laughing face, I don't believe that everything is true. He is only one year old and three months old! His life has just begun, is it going to end? Is this all true? The doctor told me that the stench can now be chemotherapy, maybe 50% hope, but he must perform eyeball removal surgery, including the eye frame. The result of chemotherapy is that this half of the face is always the face of his first year, while the face is growing normally. And even if the surgery is successful, it can only live to about seven or eight years old. I really wanted to give him chemotherapy. At that time, I frantically grabbed the doctor's hand and shouted: "Take him surgery! Do surgery!" But I also know clearly that this pair is only one year old. Too much pain, even more cruel is that if he lived to 7 years old, if he is sensible, his pain is unimaginable, because he can't escape death!
That night, my lover and I made the most difficult decision we made in our life. I clearly remember the bloody face and sad eyes of my strong lover when making this decision . I yelled at my lover: "No! The doctor said that if you don't have surgery, your child will lose your life. Finally, your eyes will grow like cauliflower, and your head will be deformed. What should I do? When I call out 'Mom, Mom, where are you', what should I do? I will be crazy! Do surgery, no matter what the outcome, we will not regret it, even if it is a ruin, the bones must be given He ruled! After all, there is still a hint of hope! I can't watch my child die!" Facing my hysteria, I love people, my beloved one just wraps me crazy, tells me To: "Spring children, you are awake! Do you let the stench grow up to ask you 'Mom, why can't I survive?' Do you want him to face this cold fact with one eye? Do you want to face the curious eyes of the body?" Then he wiped his tears hard.
Child, forgive parents! We are cruel, but also helpless! We must decide this way. We would rather let you live happily for a year, go when you don't understand anything, and don't let you suffer. Although I know that this decision will make me carry a guilty life.
The next night, I carried my stench alone and avoided my loved ones. I carried him in the quiet city at midnight and walked. I don't know where to take him, nor where to go. I only know that I am going to carry him, I want to be with him. On the way, I took my stink and asked him: "Smelly smell, mother loves you, do you know?" Smelly stinks tells me: "Know." I told him with tears: "Smelly, mother loves you, no matter mother." How to do it, you have to know that your mother loves you." Smelly replies to me: "Know." I asked him: "Smelly smell, do you still be my son in the afterlife?" My stench, what will answer The stench smell did not say anything. My tears dripped onto his face. So, I changed the subject and asked him: "Smelly, do you love me?" He replied clearly: "Love."
Days pass by, and I still hold a little fantasies and hopes. Maybe it is misdiagnosed, maybe it will be calcified, maybe it is all dreamy. The first thing I do every morning is to look at the child's eyes. I watched him openly and openly. If he smiles at me, if he calls my mother crisply, my day will be easy and enjoyable, but more often he will always wrinkle his brows and close his eyes in my arms. Tell me: "Mom I am uncomfortable." Then I kept flipping my small body. At this time, my heart is tightening together. All I can do is hold him and hold him tightly, hoping to absorb all his pain on me. I kept telling him: "Smelly, my mother is here, my mother is holding you." Then let him fall asleep in my tears and songs. I taught him many stories and poems , but I never taught him "pain", "pain" and related words, so he will only tell me when he leaves: "Mom, I am uncomfortable." Only I know This uncomfortable meaning. There is a lot of unbearable torture in that discomfort! My stench is only one year old after all!
My child lived 958 days, two years, seven months and 15 days.
When my stench smells alive, he is surprisingly well-behaved and surprisingly clever. He is as cute, not, and even smarter as his peers. He likes cars, I bought him nearly a hundred cars of different sizes, and he kept playing with his cars every day. Yes, I love him and pour me all to satisfy his wishes. Watching him play seriously in the time of no pain is a kind of enjoyment and happiness for me. I know that I don’t have much time to watch him.
In his sick days, I used a lot of remedies to treat him. I know that I am ignorant, but nothing works. Smelly still has surgery. Because the things in his eyes have grown up, it really protrudes, and he can't close his eyes. Every time I helped him close his eyes, I was shaking when I saw that the place where he should be the eyeball had been replaced by a gray thing. I am really going to collapse, I know, going on like this, I will be crazy. Or, I was already crazy in the eyes of others.
The stench was pushed into the operating room, his small body 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 heaven: "Let my stench not live, let him die on the operating table." I am crazy, is there such a prayer in the world? But I thought so at the time. I know that stinky eyes will be dug up. The place where his eyes are will be a dark hole. I am afraid, I don't know how I should face his pain. My lover took my hand and we sat on the steps outside the operating room, away from the crowd. Hold the other hand tightly, the only thing we can catch at that time.
The surgical cart was pushed out, but I lay down on another bed. I am weak and weak from the heart. I support it, I have to get up, I am a mother. I saw his quiet body, small body, lying on the bed motionless. I picked him up, he was so light, I hugged him, I was afraid that he would fly away. His left eye was covered with a large gauze. His anesthetic is still working, he is very quiet. At that moment, I suddenly had an illusion: Is it the same when he died? I bite my lips awkwardly - don't think about it.
Smelly crazy, he frantically pulled the gauze on his face. He hurts. Anesthesia has passed, and he struggled and shouted: "Mom, uncomfortable! Mom! Uncomfortable!" The lover grabbed his hand and shouted at me: "Spring, hurry, help me catch!" Don't let him grab the gauze!" I barely stood up. At this moment, stinking and struggling to reach out to me and shouting out one of the most memorable words of my life: "Spring! Mom!" - "The voice is so bleak and helpless, it is such a shock!
I finally collapsed. I grew fainted for the first time.
When I woke up, the stench had already been hit with a stable needle and went to sleep.
In the days of the hospital, there is no memory. I only remember the white gauze on the left eye.
I tried to close my left eye and wanted to see the world that stinks can see. When I saw it, I felt very sad. Really.
He often looks at me with his last remaining right eye, a clear watery eye. The trust that comes out of my eyes makes me sad.
I am vulnerable. I never dared to look at my child's left eye after surgery. I always dare not go in every time I take my child to change medicine. I hid in the ophthalmology corridor. But I can still hear the stench of screaming: "Mom-Mom--". I hid in the elevator. As the elevator went up and down, I grabbed my ear hard, but the stinking voice could still be heard. The helpless shouting mother’s voice wandered in every corner of the hospital...
After he had finished the operation, the doctor told me that the stench could still live for half a year. I really thought he could live for half a year, but only two months, my stench went away.
The stench is gone, I don't know. I really don't know that it is the sign that he is leaving me. He didn't eat or drink, lying quietly in my arms, fluttering like a feather, his little brow wrinkled tightly. He kept shouting: "Mom, uncomfortable. Mom, uncomfortable."
Who can save my child!
I sent the smell to the hospital. In the ward, my lover went to get the hospitalized thing. I was holding my child, holding the child who was about to leave me. I cried and cried without any care. I asked stinky: "Why, why are you leaving me! I am your mother, but why can't I save you!" Yes, it is not the child who is sick, but my mother can not save the child, I I can only watch him leave me. In the empty ward, my helpless cry is echoing. God is alive! If tears can call back my stench, I would rather let my tears flow into the sea! If I can save my child with my life, I would rather die 10,000 times! My child, my stench! Only he can hear my call. But he is already in a coma.
The stench went away. Go away forever. Really gone. I will always remember that day: October 9, 1997. My soul is far away.
But I still thank God. When he left, he did not change his face as the doctor predicted. Although his face was slightly deformed, his right eye was not blind. He could still see me when he left. He can still be accurate. He grabbed my hand tightly with his little hand, and he still knew his mother was by his side - forever!
I chose to cremate him. The old man told me that it is best to bury the child on the roadside. I strongly disagree. The stench has been tortured in the world. I can't tolerate his little body sleeping alone in the cold soil. I can't imagine his body being attacked by insects. I am afraid that he is cold, afraid that he is lonely, afraid that he will wake up and cry to find his mother. I want him to turn into a light smoke and disperse with the wind. I want him to come clean and walk cleanly.
But I didn't go when I was cremation, I didn't dare to go. I can't face my dead child, I am afraid I can't control myself. My lover and my colleague are going to send a stink. When I came back, I looked at my lover and wept silently. My lover, my strong husband, he didn't cry when the child was sick, but at this moment, he was rolling on the bed, grabbing his chest, tearing his clothes, and bursting into tears. He just kept telling me: "Spring, I hurt! I feel bad!" I held his head, he was weak like a baby. He muttered to me: "I put the stinky bottle next to him, and his little toy to accompany him. When I took him out of the freezer, he looked like he was sleeping, my pro I kissed his face. I always felt that he could open his eyes and call his father. I took the gauze on his face. I don’t want to bring that hateful gauze when he reborn."
In the evening, my lover and I burned all the smelly toys, clothes and smelly things, photos and my diary to the crossroads.
I quietly left a stinky one and a hundred days of photos. I had a happy face on that photo and hugged my child happily. This is the only connection I have with the stench, and the only love I have ever been a mother. Again, it is my memory and endless thoughts about stinking.
I still don't remember how I and my lover had been through that night. I didn't remember that night.
The next morning, I cut my pajamas and the vest that my lover wom while sleeping, and cut it in the chest. I carefully wrapped the stinky little ashes. I hope that in the midst of it, I will feel warm and feel the care and temperature of my parents. However, when I went to bury my child, my lover still didn't let me go, so I still don't know where my beloved stinky grave is.
My child really went away this time. I can't see him anymore in this life. I can't hear his crisp smile anymore. I can't hear the unique voice of my mother.
Unless in a dream.