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In these five years, there is not a day that I don't miss my children. No matter how hard I try to forget myself, there will always be a casual moment, a casual touch, which makes me burst into tears.

I like boys, and I always think boys are easier to raise than real ones. I like naughty boys.

I know I am a little woman. And proud of it.

Later, I had a son. Give birth to a child that truly belongs to you.

I named my son stinky.

The days with children are happy, and the happiness that every child brings to parents is priceless, eternal and true. When I think back to being with stinky, I can still feel the tenderness that gushes from my heart. It is a gentleness that can melt steel.

I still remember when I was born, smelly was so petite and ugly. Red skin has wrinkles. Like a little old lady. I can't even touch him or hug him. He has been crying. Cry when you are hungry, cry when you are thirsty, cry when you pull, and cry when you pee. It took me a long time to understand that all his expressions were just these. So I began to learn how to be a qualified mother. As a new mother, I suddenly grew up and seemed to have responsibilities at once. Because this little life can only survive by me, and he will only feel safe in my arms, sleep quietly and stop crying.

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. My heart is full of love, which makes me smile at everyone. Yes, I keep discovering my new self.

I still stubbornly believe that a woman is incomplete without marriage, and she will never be a real woman without being a mother. Children will make your heart soft. His angelic laughter can wash away all the filth and troubles in the world, and his pure eyes will make your heart as ethereal and peaceful as the sky in Tibet. When you hold him, when his little body snuggles up to you in trust, you will find that you are so needed and indispensable in this world. When he calls your mother in a pure voice, you will find that you are really the happiest person in the world!

Slowly, he began to learn to walk. At first, he studied in a walker. He learns quickly. I often see his figure running around the house. He's curious. When he sees himself in the mirror, he will smile, then kiss him. When he sees the white smoke 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, and he follows me wherever I am. Even when I take a shower or go to the toilet, he will knock hard and wait for me to go out quietly when he confirms that I am inside.

I still clearly remember that it was the spring of 1996, and the breeze in May gently blew up my short green windbreaker. The bright sunshine shines on me warmly and everything is warm. I took the fragrant air and walked at a brisk pace to pick up the children. Suddenly, just like being struck by lightning, the happiness that gushed from my heart suffocated me. It was a warm undercurrent that gently flowed all over my body and reached my fingers. Even, every inch of my skin and every pore felt that kind of happiness. At that moment, I asked myself: What is dissatisfaction? 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 when you least expect it.

One night when he was one year and three months old, he burst into tears. 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, and the doctor just told me to take some anti-inflammatory drugs. Therefore, I give my children medicine on time. But red is still there. It's almost a week, and I'm going to take my children for examination again. The doctor seems very nervous this time. Checked and checked carefully. Finally tell me that the child may be blind in his left eye. Besides, I'm afraid there are other problems. I was shocked! After a while, the doctor called my wife in. After my lover came out, he told me pale: "The smell may be eye cancer!" "I froze:" Eye cancer? No way! It must be wrong! "I walked out of the hospital with my child in my arms. I don't believe it. My children are healthy and lively. Even if he has eye problems, it can't be cancer! I don't believe it! I want to go to Beijing for a second interview!

The next day, my wife and I took the children to Beijing.

The result finally came out.

Stinky is really a retinoblastoma. It is really eye cancer!

I suddenly fell to the ground. It was a long time before I found myself in tears. I shouted in my heart, "Impossible! Never! " I feel my blood drained and my heart broken. My wife asked my grandfather to take the child away first, and then dragged me out of the hospital. Hand in hand, we walked aimlessly through the noisy crowd in Beijing. Tears are running wildly on my face, and I can't restrain my sadness. I know that no one can help my children in the vast sea of people, and neither can I. The doctor told me that children with this disease will be blind when walking, and their faces will be deformed with the growth and swimming of tumors, which is terrible. Thinking about the smiling face of the child, I can't believe all this is true. He is only one year and three months old. His life has just begun. Will it be over? Are these all true? The doctor told me that stinky can be treated with chemotherapy now, and there may be a 50% hope, but he must have eyeball removal surgery, including eye socket. As a result of chemotherapy, this side of his face will always be his face when he was one year old, but the other side will grow normally. Moreover, even if the operation is successful and the chemotherapy is successful, you 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! Surgery! " But I also know clearly that this is too painful for a child who is only over one year old. More cruelly, if he lived to be seven years old, if he was sensible, his pain would be 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 something like cauliflower will grow in his eyes and his head will be deformed. What should I do? When smelly reached out his hands and called me' mom, mom, where are you?' What should I do? I'll go crazy! Do surgery! 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 a glimmer of hope! I can't watch my child die! In the face of my hysteria, my lover, my beloved, hugged me madly and shouted at me, "Chun Er, wake up! Don't you let stinky grow long enough to ask you,' Mom. Why can't I live! At that time? Do you want him to turn a blind eye to this cold fact? Do you want him to be exhausted and face those curious eyes? "Then he wiped a handful of tears.

Son, 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 walked with him in the quiet city at midnight, kept walking, rested when I was tired, and bought a bottle of water when I was thirsty. I don't know where to take him and I don't care where to go. All I know is that I'm going behind his back and I'm going to be with him. On the way, I held my stink and asked him, "Smelly, mom loves you, do you know?" Stinky 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, "Smelly, will you be my son in the afterlife?" My smelly will answer anything, but say nothing. My tears dripped on his face. So I changed the subject and asked him, "Smelly, do you love me?" He gave a definite answer: "Love."

Day after day, I still hold a glimmer of fantasy and hope. Maybe it was misdiagnosed, maybe it was calcified. Maybe all this is a dream. So, I began to observe my children day by day in fear. His left eye is blind, but he can't see yet. His eyes were only red, and then they disappeared, but gradually his black eyes turned gray. That year, the first thing I did every morning was to look the child in the eye. I watched him open his eyes in fear. 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 says to me, "Mom, I feel sick." Then he kept turning over. Whenever this happens, my heart will be tight together. All I can do is hold him and hold him tightly. I hope this will ease his pain. I hope I can absorb all his pain to me. I kept telling him, "Smelly, mom's here. Don't be afraid, mom is here, mom is holding you. " Then let him fall asleep in my tears and songs. My heart is broken, broken into pieces and ground into powder. Whenever this happens, I always ask myself painfully: Did we make the right decision? I want to save my child. Even if I give him my eyes and my life. I asked heaven: why! Why put my child through this torture? Why not let him die at once! Why let him suffer bit by bit? I hold my son, hold this soft little life, and depend on me, I will only call my mother's little life when I feel uncomfortable. I feel horrible. I'm afraid that one day I can't bear it. I am afraid that as he grows up day by day, he will tell me how he feels. I'm really scared. 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 to me, "Mom, I feel so bad." I know, only I know the meaning of this pain. How much unbearable torture is contained in that kind of pain! My stink is only over one year old after all!

I still remember a long time ago, there was a news that a mother pushed her child under the wheel and committed suicide in despair. After the news broadcast, there was a voice condemning the mother. And I can deeply understand the mother's despair and pain, because she is ready to die, and she can't stand her children living alone in this world.

Children's eyes change day by day, turning gray, red and then gray. I watched in horror as it kept changing. More than once, I imagined killing stinky to end his pain. I imagine giving him a pep talk, taking sleeping pills, gassing him, choking him to death, or the whole family jumping off a building. I ride a smelly motorcycle on the road every day and think more than once: if only a kind driver could catch us all. Many times I have to stop and get off to stabilize my desire to crash. Yes, I admit that I am very fragile. I can't stand his pain and my despair.

My child lived 958 days, two years and seven months, 15 days.

When my stinky family was alive, he was surprisingly clever. He is as cute as other children of his age, no, even smarter. He will call my mother and my name in different tones. He is good at expressing his needs and feelings. He can blink and lie. He is unique and conspicuous. Not only because he has a boy's head, but also because he has a long braid. It's that he is lively and polite and calls everyone he meets. He likes cars. I bought him nearly 100 cars of different sizes, and he kept fiddling with his car every day. Yes, I dote on him and give everything I can to satisfy his wishes. It is a pleasure and happiness for me to watch him play seriously in an anodyne time. I know I won't live for a few days.

I used many drugs to treat him when he was ill. I took him to the Qigong master, gave him his own urine, gave him toad eyes, made a wish in the temple and so on. I know I'm stupid, but everything is useless. Stinky is still in surgery. Because the things in his eyes have grown up and really stand out, he can't close them. Every time I help him close his eyes, I tremble when I see that what should be his eyeball has been replaced by something gray. I'm really falling apart. I hold my lover's hand and hold it hard. I can't speak, but my lover understands the madness in my eyes. I know, if this continues, I will go crazy. In other words, I am already crazy in the eyes of others.

Stinky was pushed into the operating room, and his little body was lying on a big bed, so thin and pitiful. I looked at the door of the operating room. My life seems to have dried up. 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 was thinking. I know, smelly eyes will be gouged out. There will be a black hole in his eye. I'm scared. I don't know how to face his pain. Even if he had an operation, he would die. It is better to die quietly and painlessly under anesthesia. I'm shaking. Teeth chattering, body trembling, trembling. My wife took my hand and we sat on the steps outside the operating room, away from the crowd. Hold each other's hands tightly, that's the only place we can hold them.

The surgical cart was pushed out. I'm lying in another bed. I am weak, which comes from my inner weakness. I support it. I have to get up. I am the mother. I saw his quiet body, small body. Lying motionless in bed. I picked him up. He was so light. I held him tight. I was afraid he would fly away. His left eye is covered with a big gauze. His anesthetic is still effective. He's quiet. At that moment, I suddenly had an illusion: was it the same when he died? I bit my lip hard-forget it.

It stinks crazy. He is tearing the gauze on his face crazily. He's in pain. The anesthesia is over. He struggled to shout, "Mom, it hurts! Mom! Uncomfortable! " My lover grabbed his hand and shouted to me, "Chun Er, help me catch him quickly!" " ! Don't let him pull 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. "The 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 memory, and I still can't remember them. I don't know why, 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 very sad when I saw it. Really.

He often looks at me trustfully with his only left and right eyes, as clear as a spring. Trust in my eyes makes me sad.

I am very fragile. I have been afraid to look at the child's left eye since the operation. I feel horrible. I'm really scared. Every time I take my child to change medicine, I always dare not go in. I hid in the eye gallery. But I can still hear the crazy voice shouting, "Mom-Mom-". I hid in the elevator and went up and down with it. I tried to cover my ears, but I could still hear the smelly cry. The helpless voice of calling mom floated in every corner of the hospital, lingering. Yes, I can't escape and I will never escape. Every time, I hold the stench that I struggled out after dressing change, the stench that is full of tears but still suffocating, and the stench that came to me to protect me. My heart can't be described by a word "pain".

I asked heaven: why is this?

Heaven is speechless.

After he finished the operation, the doctor told me that smelly could live for half a year. I really thought he would live for half a year, but it was only two months before my stink left.

Stinky is leaving, I don't know. I really didn't know it was a signal that he was leaving me. He didn't eat or drink, lying quietly in my arms, floating like a feather, with a small frown. I held him, and I could only hold him tightly. And stinky just let me hold it. He kept wriggling in my arms and shouting, "Mom, I feel terrible. Mom, I feel sick. " I held him, and I could only hold him tightly.

Who can save my child!

I sent stinky to the hospital. In the ward, my wife went to the hospital to get something. I hold my child and the child who is about to leave me. I cried and cried without any consideration. I let tears flow wildly on my face. I asked stinky, "Why, why did you leave me! I am your mother, but why can't I save you! " Yes, sadly, it's not that the child is ill, but that my mother can't save the child. I could only watch him leave me, but there was nothing I could do. The empty ward echoed with my helpless cries. God has spirit! If tears can call back my bad smell, I would rather let them flow into the sea! If I can save the child with my life, I would rather die 10 thousand times! My child, my stink! Only he can hear my call. But he is still in a coma.

Stinky is gone. Gone forever. Really gone. Really gone forever! I will always remember that day:1997101October 9. My soul was taken away forever.

But I still thank God. He didn't leave as the doctor predicted, and his face didn't change much. Although his face is a little deformed, his right eye is not blind. He can still see me when he leaves. He can hold my hand tightly with his little hand accurately. He also knows that his mother is by his side-forever!

I chose to cremate him. The old man told me that a child who died so young had better be buried by the side of the road. I strongly object. Stinky was tortured when he was alive. I can't stand his little body sleeping alone in the cold soil. I can't imagine his body being invaded by insects and ants. I'm afraid he's cold, afraid he's lonely, afraid he wakes up crying for his mother. 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 colleagues sent it to stink. After I came back, I looked at my lover and wept silently. My love, my strong husband, he didn't cry when the child was ill, but at the moment, he rolled on the bed, clutching his chest, tearing his clothes and crying loudly. He just kept telling me, "Chun Er, I'm hurt! I am distressed! " I hugged his head. He was as weak as a baby. He muttered to me, "I saw that smelly smell was burnt." At that moment, I really wanted to jump into the stove. " I hold my lover and my tears keep flowing. I can only tell him: "You are so stupid, how can you go to see it?" My wife told me, "I put the smelly bottle next to him and his little toy accompanied him." When I took him out of the refrigerator, he looked like he was sleeping. I kissed his face. I always think he can open his eyes and call dad at once. I removed the gauze from his face. I don't want him to be reborn with that damn gauze. "My tears fell on my lover's face, and I was distressed and distressed my lover. This strong man! His vulnerability was revealed for the first time, and his love for his children was so deep. He has always supported me. Sometimes I can run, but he can't. I can cry, but he can't. I can see that, but he can't. He can only face it and choose to be strong. Because he is a man. When my child was ill, I put all my energy into the child and neglected my concern for my lover. In the later days, his colleague told me: "He always stays there in a daze at work, or walks around alone like crazy." "My love, the love that makes me feel distressed, you don't say anything, you just bear it all silently. ...

In the evening, my wife and I burned all the smelly toys, clothes, used things, photos and my diary at the crossroads.

I quietly left a wisp of smelly fetal hair and a photo of him for one hundred days. I have a happy smiling face in that photo, hugging my child happily. This is the only connection between me and stinky, and it is also the only commemoration of my being a mother. Moreover, it is my eternal memory and endless yearning for stinky.

I still can't remember how my lover and I spent that night. I don't remember that night.

The next morning. I cut pajamas and vests that my lover often wears when sleeping, and cut them on my chest. I carefully wrapped the smelly gray. I hope I can feel the warmth in the dark and feel my parents' concern and body temperature. However, I buried the child, and my wife still wouldn't let me go, so I still don't know where my beloved stinking 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 his mother.

Except in dreams.