I feel like I should have planned this better.
I knew Aidan was going to be arriving, although I didn't know the exact dates I figured it would be in a few weeks.
Now he's here. Sitting in a plastic bowl inside of a plastic box on my coffee table.
I should have bought an urn for him. I knew I wanted to eventually buy an urn for him, then we could put him on a shelf (which we also need to buy) next to our family wedding portraits.
But I didn't.
I guess I figured I'd just wait till he arrived, so I knew what size to get. Like it really mattered. The smallest one they have would be too big. Not that he has to fill it to the brim or anything.
So now we need to buy one. But who wants to go urn shopping for their dead child? This just makes it all too real.
This sucks.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
$22.75
I picked up Aidan from the post office today.
They tried to deliver him to my house while we were still in Amsterdam, but luckily they require a live person to receive him, otherwise he would have been left on our doorstep, sitting for days, soaking in the ungodly amount of rain Michigan got last week. I had to show my ID and sign a paper and electronic form in order to take him home with me. I suppose I am thankful for this, although I'm sure the chances are low, but at least some random stranger wouldn't be able to waltz into the post office and steal my son. That would suck.
It was probably a bad idea to pick him up before work, as I cried the entire 30+ minute drive in, but I usually leave work when the post office closes, so this was the only time to do it. He is now sitting on my desk, in the same box he was shipped in. Is that weird? Taking your dead son to work? I didn't want to leave him in the car, in the 90 degree heat. That's bad parenting.
I haven't opened the package yet.. I am going to wait till I get home so Keith and I can open it together, just like in the hospital when I gave birth to him. Keith stood by my side, holding my hand, and got to see him enter the world, butt first. At least I'll get to watch this time, although now he's just ashes. I'm not sure what he's actually in.. a box? a bag? Both? The package is kind of light..maybe a pound or two.. so it could be a light box.
No one at work has asked me what the package is yet, but that doesn't mean they won't. I'm a little worried that they will ask, and if they do I'm not sure how to answer. "Oh, it's just Aidan. Yeah I brought him in.. isn't it Take Your Child to Work Day?" That could be awkward, no?
So, for now I will try to get through work and catch up on everything I've missed. I apparently need to blog every day, as there have been several events this week that require blogging, but I'm going to take it one event at a time.
Oh.. the total cost to ship Aidan to me was $22.75. I was way off!
They tried to deliver him to my house while we were still in Amsterdam, but luckily they require a live person to receive him, otherwise he would have been left on our doorstep, sitting for days, soaking in the ungodly amount of rain Michigan got last week. I had to show my ID and sign a paper and electronic form in order to take him home with me. I suppose I am thankful for this, although I'm sure the chances are low, but at least some random stranger wouldn't be able to waltz into the post office and steal my son. That would suck.
It was probably a bad idea to pick him up before work, as I cried the entire 30+ minute drive in, but I usually leave work when the post office closes, so this was the only time to do it. He is now sitting on my desk, in the same box he was shipped in. Is that weird? Taking your dead son to work? I didn't want to leave him in the car, in the 90 degree heat. That's bad parenting.
I haven't opened the package yet.. I am going to wait till I get home so Keith and I can open it together, just like in the hospital when I gave birth to him. Keith stood by my side, holding my hand, and got to see him enter the world, butt first. At least I'll get to watch this time, although now he's just ashes. I'm not sure what he's actually in.. a box? a bag? Both? The package is kind of light..maybe a pound or two.. so it could be a light box.
No one at work has asked me what the package is yet, but that doesn't mean they won't. I'm a little worried that they will ask, and if they do I'm not sure how to answer. "Oh, it's just Aidan. Yeah I brought him in.. isn't it Take Your Child to Work Day?" That could be awkward, no?
So, for now I will try to get through work and catch up on everything I've missed. I apparently need to blog every day, as there have been several events this week that require blogging, but I'm going to take it one event at a time.
Oh.. the total cost to ship Aidan to me was $22.75. I was way off!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
3 months
It's our last full day in Amsterdam. This week has been a little crazy, but overall a good one. We have some fun things planned for today and I'll be sure to tell you all about our trip when we get back.
Happy 3 month angelversary, Aidan. I can't believe how long it's been.
Happy 3 month angelversary, Aidan. I can't believe how long it's been.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
overseas
I'm not supposed to be here.
Shortly after I announced to work that I was pregnant, we found out when and where our annual conference would be held, which is in a different country every year. I've been working for this company for almost five years now, but I've never attended a conference, so I was excited to find out that I'd actually get to go this time. The place? Amsterdam, The Netherlands. The time? May 23-25, 2011.
Originally I said YES! I want to go! I love traveling, especially when I can bring Keith with me, and I had never visited Amsterdam before, except for its crazy Schiphol Airport, so this trip was bound to be fun.
I then realized that I would be almost seven months pregnant at the conference. Did I really want to travel overseas at this stage? Would it be risky for my/my child's health (jet lag, new country, new diseases..)? Maybe, maybe not. Then my mom announced the day she had booked my baby shower for: Sunday, May 22. Yes, that would be today. If I were to attend my shower (um, duh of course I'm going to attend), I wouldn't be able to leave for Amsterdam till Sunday night, meaning I wouldn't arrive till early Monday morning. I'd be jet lagged for sure and I'd probably miss the first day of the conference. I decided that I did not want to put that kind of stress on my body and, after all these years of waiting for my chance to go, I chose not to attend the conference. My boss was a little sad, as he too wanted me to go, but he understood and realized it was for the best.
Fast forward a few months and you'll find me on a beautiful Sunday morning typing away, sitting in my hotel room in Amsterdam.
Yes, this trip should be fun and I'll finally get to explore this wondrous city. But I'd much rather be sitting in my living room, watching reality show reruns with a giant pregnant belly.
Shortly after I announced to work that I was pregnant, we found out when and where our annual conference would be held, which is in a different country every year. I've been working for this company for almost five years now, but I've never attended a conference, so I was excited to find out that I'd actually get to go this time. The place? Amsterdam, The Netherlands. The time? May 23-25, 2011.
Originally I said YES! I want to go! I love traveling, especially when I can bring Keith with me, and I had never visited Amsterdam before, except for its crazy Schiphol Airport, so this trip was bound to be fun.
I then realized that I would be almost seven months pregnant at the conference. Did I really want to travel overseas at this stage? Would it be risky for my/my child's health (jet lag, new country, new diseases..)? Maybe, maybe not. Then my mom announced the day she had booked my baby shower for: Sunday, May 22. Yes, that would be today. If I were to attend my shower (um, duh of course I'm going to attend), I wouldn't be able to leave for Amsterdam till Sunday night, meaning I wouldn't arrive till early Monday morning. I'd be jet lagged for sure and I'd probably miss the first day of the conference. I decided that I did not want to put that kind of stress on my body and, after all these years of waiting for my chance to go, I chose not to attend the conference. My boss was a little sad, as he too wanted me to go, but he understood and realized it was for the best.
Fast forward a few months and you'll find me on a beautiful Sunday morning typing away, sitting in my hotel room in Amsterdam.
Yes, this trip should be fun and I'll finally get to explore this wondrous city. But I'd much rather be sitting in my living room, watching reality show reruns with a giant pregnant belly.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
wish
Last week and this week I have been in the Big Apple, visiting one of our magazine publisher clients to do some training for them. This client has a magazine that is currently celebrating its 40th anniversary, and because of that there is a ton of fun swag to be found all around their office. The swag includes a small tin filled with a unique salt and spice mix, a mailing tube that contains a scratch-off map so you can show off all of the places you've visited, and a large paper ice cream cone wrapped in cellophane.
They were kind enough to let me take some of these items, and when I got home Friday night I immediately opened up the ice cream cone to see what was inside (as it obviously was not real ice cream or just paper). The contents reminded me of a carnival - it was filled with little toys, like a fake mustache, and fortune-telling things, like a magical plastic fish and a "cootie catcher" (remember those?). It also included wishing items - a small, smooth stone and a piece of tissue paper, which you write a wish on then roll into a tube and burn like a candle, so that your wish can float into the heavens and (hopefully) be granted.
This got me thinking, which I'm sure you know by now is not always a good thing. There are many occasions throughout life where we are required or asked to make a wish... Blowing out candles on a birthday cake, blowing the seeds off of a dandelion, blowing away a fallen eyelash, to name a few (on another note, why does blowing and wishing go together so often??). For the past several years, whenever I was asked to make a wish I always wished for the same thing. I could have wished to win the lottery or perhaps, in general, have a happy life, but instead I wished for this one thing: healthy children.
Now, I very well could have just jinxed myself if you believe in superstitions, but I felt this needed to be shared. Healthy children. That's it. One thing (or, I suppose, multiple things if I have more than one child). You know what? My child was healthy. He was perfect. If my pregnancy continued I can only assume that he would continue to be healthy, be born healthy, and lead a normal life. You could say that my wish (so far) has come true.
But.. what good is a wish for healthy children when your healthy child dies from an unnatural cause? Apparently whatever force is governing these things decided that my wish wasn't good enough, robust enough, specific enough. It reminds me of a friend who was a dungeon master for the role-playing game dungeons and dragons (yes, the geeky side is coming out). There was a point in his game where you could receive one wish - any wish - but it was up to the dungeon master to decipher this wish and determine how to grant it. This is where things got tricky - if you wished for immortality then he would most certainly transform you into a rock. Rocks don't die, right? So you were forced to create a wish worded so perfectly that there was no way the DM could misconstrue it.
I feel that in order to have my wish come true the way I want, I need to add qualifiers to my wishes now and word them like a legal document. I wish to give birth to a healthy child that is born alive at or around 40 weeks gestation, who has no genetic abnormalities, who lives a long, healthy life equivalent to the average lifespan of an American male or female.... oh and I'd like to live through the birthing process as well and also live a long, healthy life... yikes. I'm sure there's more I should add. Do you think this would work?
I don't think there are enough candles on my birthday cake for that.
They were kind enough to let me take some of these items, and when I got home Friday night I immediately opened up the ice cream cone to see what was inside (as it obviously was not real ice cream or just paper). The contents reminded me of a carnival - it was filled with little toys, like a fake mustache, and fortune-telling things, like a magical plastic fish and a "cootie catcher" (remember those?). It also included wishing items - a small, smooth stone and a piece of tissue paper, which you write a wish on then roll into a tube and burn like a candle, so that your wish can float into the heavens and (hopefully) be granted.
This got me thinking, which I'm sure you know by now is not always a good thing. There are many occasions throughout life where we are required or asked to make a wish... Blowing out candles on a birthday cake, blowing the seeds off of a dandelion, blowing away a fallen eyelash, to name a few (on another note, why does blowing and wishing go together so often??). For the past several years, whenever I was asked to make a wish I always wished for the same thing. I could have wished to win the lottery or perhaps, in general, have a happy life, but instead I wished for this one thing: healthy children.
Now, I very well could have just jinxed myself if you believe in superstitions, but I felt this needed to be shared. Healthy children. That's it. One thing (or, I suppose, multiple things if I have more than one child). You know what? My child was healthy. He was perfect. If my pregnancy continued I can only assume that he would continue to be healthy, be born healthy, and lead a normal life. You could say that my wish (so far) has come true.
But.. what good is a wish for healthy children when your healthy child dies from an unnatural cause? Apparently whatever force is governing these things decided that my wish wasn't good enough, robust enough, specific enough. It reminds me of a friend who was a dungeon master for the role-playing game dungeons and dragons (yes, the geeky side is coming out). There was a point in his game where you could receive one wish - any wish - but it was up to the dungeon master to decipher this wish and determine how to grant it. This is where things got tricky - if you wished for immortality then he would most certainly transform you into a rock. Rocks don't die, right? So you were forced to create a wish worded so perfectly that there was no way the DM could misconstrue it.
I feel that in order to have my wish come true the way I want, I need to add qualifiers to my wishes now and word them like a legal document. I wish to give birth to a healthy child that is born alive at or around 40 weeks gestation, who has no genetic abnormalities, who lives a long, healthy life equivalent to the average lifespan of an American male or female.... oh and I'd like to live through the birthing process as well and also live a long, healthy life... yikes. I'm sure there's more I should add. Do you think this would work?
I don't think there are enough candles on my birthday cake for that.
Friday, May 13, 2011
sleeping with the fishes
well, fuck.
maybe i should stop hiding people on facebook.
that way, when i see a friend post on a hidden friend's wall, i won't want to jump off a bridge when i find out the hidden friend just had a baby boy and i had no idea she was even pregnant in the first place. pretty sure that one wasn't planned.
see you at the bottom.
maybe i should stop hiding people on facebook.
that way, when i see a friend post on a hidden friend's wall, i won't want to jump off a bridge when i find out the hidden friend just had a baby boy and i had no idea she was even pregnant in the first place. pretty sure that one wasn't planned.
see you at the bottom.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
I'm guessing 3
Last week I received a form in the mail from U of M, asking me what I'd like to do with Aidan's ashes. I mailed the form back the same day.
I'm not sure how long it will take, but I'm guessing sometime in the next few weeks Aidan will arrive in the mail.
That's one way to bring your child home from the hospital. I wonder how many stamps it'll take.
I'm not sure how long it will take, but I'm guessing sometime in the next few weeks Aidan will arrive in the mail.
That's one way to bring your child home from the hospital. I wonder how many stamps it'll take.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
stuck
Happy regular mother's day.
I should be 27.5 weeks pregnant today and looking forward to my upcoming baby showers. I probably wouldn't feel like a mom yet, but I would celebrate anyway.
I know I was sounding all proud and confident in my last post, but I really don't feel like a mom. I know I am one, but it's hard to feel like one when you don't have any children to take care of. I feel alone.. which is crazy because there are millions of women out there who have gone through the same thing I have.. and I even know several people (who have slowly been coming out of the woodwork) who have had miscarriages... so how can I feel alone? I guess I feel like I'm stuck in this sad/angry/depressing moment, while life goes on for everyone else around me. I can't move forward with my life the way I want to right now (aka get pregnant again) so I'm just hanging back, waiting for time to pass.
anyway... I hope this day doesn't suck for you all.
I should be 27.5 weeks pregnant today and looking forward to my upcoming baby showers. I probably wouldn't feel like a mom yet, but I would celebrate anyway.
I know I was sounding all proud and confident in my last post, but I really don't feel like a mom. I know I am one, but it's hard to feel like one when you don't have any children to take care of. I feel alone.. which is crazy because there are millions of women out there who have gone through the same thing I have.. and I even know several people (who have slowly been coming out of the woodwork) who have had miscarriages... so how can I feel alone? I guess I feel like I'm stuck in this sad/angry/depressing moment, while life goes on for everyone else around me. I can't move forward with my life the way I want to right now (aka get pregnant again) so I'm just hanging back, waiting for time to pass.
anyway... I hope this day doesn't suck for you all.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
title
Jenn and I follow a blog called Young House Love. It's about a young family who does budget friendly, DIY home improvements. The mom, Sherry, also writes for Baby Center, and today her post was about her first Mother's day, when she was still pregnant with her daughter, Clara.
It was a nice little post, and then I read the comments. There was one that caught my eye and makes me a little angry at the poster. I don't know her nor do I care about setting her straight, so I'm voicing my opinion here. See a snippet of her comment below..
My response would be...
It was a nice little post, and then I read the comments. There was one that caught my eye and makes me a little angry at the poster. I don't know her nor do I care about setting her straight, so I'm voicing my opinion here. See a snippet of her comment below..
"I was eight-months pregnant last mother’s day and my mom wanted to go ahead and treat me like a new mom, but I told her I hadn’t earned it yet. Boy was I right. . . . .you haven’t earned being a mom until you’ve spent those late nights feeding and rocking your baby, getting spit up on, changing the blowouts that get all over you too, and dealing with a baby that just won’t nap!"
Dear jacobsmomma,
I have never stayed up late feeding my child. I have never rocked him nor held him. He never spit up on me, ruining my clothes. I never changed his diaper, in fact he never wore one nor had the ability to have a blowout. It's disheartening that your baby is troubling you so much and that he won't take a nap for you. I would give anything for mine to be alive and cause me all this trouble. I'm glad all of these things make you feel like you earned your motherhood. I have done none of those things, yet I am still a mother and have definitely earned my title.
Love,
Aidan's mom
Monday, May 2, 2011
Yesterday
As far as I can tell, I am still alive, therefore I must have survived yesterday.
I only cried twice.. at the shower, at least. I might have made it the whole shower if Jenn didn't waddle towards me, sobbing with her arms outstretched. Both times! But twice is good. Oh I definitely could have cried more, especially with mr. newborn baby boy sitting next to me and STARING at me. I would glance over at him and casually notice his little feet and tiny hands, then I'd look up and there were his big eyes, just staring right back at me.. tears began to well then I'd immediately look away, at my food, engrossed in my sandwich. mmm, samich. This lettuce here needs some adjusting. Hmm, the underside of this bread is very intriguing, oh and look at the top piece! So interesting. Oh, hey, there are cheetos on my plate. They probably need to be organized... then the tears would subside, I could look at other people again, possibly say a word or two, and then my eyes would drift back to those little feet.....
And that's when I went to the bathroom. Although, mr. newborn's mom mentioning that her sister is now pregnant did not help to keep me at the table. I didn't cry in the bathroom (as you should know from above), I just needed to escape. Thank you, Lauren, for coming to check up on me just in case. But I did come back to the table. I cleared the plates, and I must have occupied myself a little longer because then it was game time. This time a thank you goes out to Andrea for keeping me amused with our franken-b-a-b-y. I also must thank my camera for, um, being a camera and allowing me to take pictures with it. Hiding behind a plastic box is so much easier than talking to people!
Anyway.. I survived. It was weird, and awkward, and sad, and depressing, yet I laughed and in general had a good time.
As you know, good moments -> bad moments (that would be a pointer in the middle there) and vice versa. Oh man last night was AWFUL!
So, Keith wanted to see Fast Five. Or fast and the furious five.. whatever they are calling it. I didn't really care about seeing it cuz it's a stupid car movie, but I figured it might help get my mind off of things. HA. Ha. ha. Lately I have been getting VERY annoyed at movies and tv shows that are not realistic enough (must be why I lean towards reality shows). I won't spoil it for anyone who wants to torture themselves with this movie, but I was ready to leave the theater after 2 minutes. Now, I am a person who always stays and watches the whole thing, and I always find something good in a movie, something amusing, at least. If the first two minutes makes me want to leave, what the hell is the rest going to be like? Answer: the rest will make me want to take a machete to the writers' throats.
I. was. so. pissed. the entire movie. I was angry, I wanted to cry, I was exhausted, I just did not want to be there. But I stayed, because Keith really wanted to see this and I figured if I stared at the floor long enough my mind would turn off and I wouldn't have to hear that god damn awful dialog anymore. What could have prompted these emotions? Imagine this.. a woman, who is maybe 2 months pregnant, is running around with her baby daddy on rooftops in Rio de Janero. Angry men are running after them and shooting at them with machine guns and what have you. Mommy and daddy get to the edge of a roof and look down.. oh my! A 30 foot drop to the next rooftop! They look back and see the zombie gunmen getting closer (although they always seem to miss.. hmm). The logical thing is obviously to jump. Ok, fine. They jump, they land on the roof, which thusly breaks (because it's crappy metal crap or something (yes, crappy metal crap)) and they fall another 10 feet or so to rubble or concrete or whatever. You don't actually see them land or get up or anything, but moments later they're running again, as if nothing happened. No broken bones, cuts, scrapes, twisted ankles, or dead fucking babies. Nope. The nonsense continues (I don't have enough time in the world to get mention all of it), and throughout the movie the happy parents keep gushing about their supposedly alive baby, driving cars maniacally through the city, getting chased by more zombie gunmen (they don't die! and they come back to life!) and then everything is all jelly beans and gum drops at the end because you get to see her with her ginormous pregnant belly making out with her hubby on the beach. We have to assume that she has the baby and that it's born alive because it's the movies and nothing is real in the movies. I could only think about her not having a fucking miscarriage. She can jump off of a building and she AND her baby can survive. Sorry rock, if you read this, but I would LOVE to see amniotic fluid cushion her that much. Mine couldn't survive a god damn infection.
Annnnnd that's why I think I'm in the anger stage......
I only cried twice.. at the shower, at least. I might have made it the whole shower if Jenn didn't waddle towards me, sobbing with her arms outstretched. Both times! But twice is good. Oh I definitely could have cried more, especially with mr. newborn baby boy sitting next to me and STARING at me. I would glance over at him and casually notice his little feet and tiny hands, then I'd look up and there were his big eyes, just staring right back at me.. tears began to well then I'd immediately look away, at my food, engrossed in my sandwich. mmm, samich. This lettuce here needs some adjusting. Hmm, the underside of this bread is very intriguing, oh and look at the top piece! So interesting. Oh, hey, there are cheetos on my plate. They probably need to be organized... then the tears would subside, I could look at other people again, possibly say a word or two, and then my eyes would drift back to those little feet.....
And that's when I went to the bathroom. Although, mr. newborn's mom mentioning that her sister is now pregnant did not help to keep me at the table. I didn't cry in the bathroom (as you should know from above), I just needed to escape. Thank you, Lauren, for coming to check up on me just in case. But I did come back to the table. I cleared the plates, and I must have occupied myself a little longer because then it was game time. This time a thank you goes out to Andrea for keeping me amused with our franken-b-a-b-y. I also must thank my camera for, um, being a camera and allowing me to take pictures with it. Hiding behind a plastic box is so much easier than talking to people!
Anyway.. I survived. It was weird, and awkward, and sad, and depressing, yet I laughed and in general had a good time.
As you know, good moments -> bad moments (that would be a pointer in the middle there) and vice versa. Oh man last night was AWFUL!
So, Keith wanted to see Fast Five. Or fast and the furious five.. whatever they are calling it. I didn't really care about seeing it cuz it's a stupid car movie, but I figured it might help get my mind off of things. HA. Ha. ha. Lately I have been getting VERY annoyed at movies and tv shows that are not realistic enough (must be why I lean towards reality shows). I won't spoil it for anyone who wants to torture themselves with this movie, but I was ready to leave the theater after 2 minutes. Now, I am a person who always stays and watches the whole thing, and I always find something good in a movie, something amusing, at least. If the first two minutes makes me want to leave, what the hell is the rest going to be like? Answer: the rest will make me want to take a machete to the writers' throats.
I. was. so. pissed. the entire movie. I was angry, I wanted to cry, I was exhausted, I just did not want to be there. But I stayed, because Keith really wanted to see this and I figured if I stared at the floor long enough my mind would turn off and I wouldn't have to hear that god damn awful dialog anymore. What could have prompted these emotions? Imagine this.. a woman, who is maybe 2 months pregnant, is running around with her baby daddy on rooftops in Rio de Janero. Angry men are running after them and shooting at them with machine guns and what have you. Mommy and daddy get to the edge of a roof and look down.. oh my! A 30 foot drop to the next rooftop! They look back and see the zombie gunmen getting closer (although they always seem to miss.. hmm). The logical thing is obviously to jump. Ok, fine. They jump, they land on the roof, which thusly breaks (because it's crappy metal crap or something (yes, crappy metal crap)) and they fall another 10 feet or so to rubble or concrete or whatever. You don't actually see them land or get up or anything, but moments later they're running again, as if nothing happened. No broken bones, cuts, scrapes, twisted ankles, or dead fucking babies. Nope. The nonsense continues (I don't have enough time in the world to get mention all of it), and throughout the movie the happy parents keep gushing about their supposedly alive baby, driving cars maniacally through the city, getting chased by more zombie gunmen (they don't die! and they come back to life!) and then everything is all jelly beans and gum drops at the end because you get to see her with her ginormous pregnant belly making out with her hubby on the beach. We have to assume that she has the baby and that it's born alive because it's the movies and nothing is real in the movies. I could only think about her not having a fucking miscarriage. She can jump off of a building and she AND her baby can survive. Sorry rock, if you read this, but I would LOVE to see amniotic fluid cushion her that much. Mine couldn't survive a god damn infection.
Annnnnd that's why I think I'm in the anger stage......
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Today
Today is special for two reasons.
Today is Jenn's baby shower. B.S. day, as I've been calling it. I know that two pregnant ladies and one new mom and her son will be there, but there could be more. I am scared, anxious, nervous, but also a little excited. I want to give Jenn her gift and I want her to like it and smile (you better like it!). I really hope I don't cry. Maybe I am getting too worked up about it. Maybe everything will be fine. Maybe I will freak out and won't get the courage to go. I was supposed to be pregnant too, you know. We were going to take cute bump pictures together.
Today is also International Babylost Mother's Day. What's that, you ask? Someone who is babylost is a person who has lost a child, whether it be from miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, you name it. They are babylost. I am babylost. And now we have our own day. I am not quite sure why us babylost moms have our own day - we ARE moms, even though our child is dead, so are we not allowed to celebrate regular mother's day? - but I will take it. So, to all of the babylost moms out there:
Today is Jenn's baby shower. B.S. day, as I've been calling it. I know that two pregnant ladies and one new mom and her son will be there, but there could be more. I am scared, anxious, nervous, but also a little excited. I want to give Jenn her gift and I want her to like it and smile (you better like it!). I really hope I don't cry. Maybe I am getting too worked up about it. Maybe everything will be fine. Maybe I will freak out and won't get the courage to go. I was supposed to be pregnant too, you know. We were going to take cute bump pictures together.
Today is also International Babylost Mother's Day. What's that, you ask? Someone who is babylost is a person who has lost a child, whether it be from miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, you name it. They are babylost. I am babylost. And now we have our own day. I am not quite sure why us babylost moms have our own day - we ARE moms, even though our child is dead, so are we not allowed to celebrate regular mother's day? - but I will take it. So, to all of the babylost moms out there:
Today I will be sad. Today I will do my best not to cry. Today I will try to be happy. Today I will smile, genuinely or not. Today I will remember. Just like every other day.
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