right where i am: 97 days

I was thinking earlier of what it was like before Aidan was born. What it was like to be happy. How glorious it must have been to feel "normal" and not overwhelmed by these sudden waves of sadness.

Before Aidan was even a blip on the radar I had my moments of sadness. I don't want to call it depression, as I know that is a serious disease and I'm pretty sure I did not have that, but I still got very sad quite often. I blamed it on my thyroid medicine. There were different triggers for my sadness.. not feeling like I was moving forward in my career, just having a shitty day, etc. But generally the sadness would end after a day or two.

Then Aidan came into the picture. Seeing those two lines on the pregnancy test was so magical, so mind-opening. We created a life! Those 3.5 months I was pregnant were pure elation (aside from the occasional nausea). I didn't realize it at the time, but I realize now how amazing it is to be pregnant and how much I long for it again.

When "the event" happened, which eventually caused Aidan's death, the whole world crumbled beneath me. Everything changed. The sadness returned and it did not go away after a day or two. It's still here, lingering, poking its spiny head out whenever it pleases, ensuring that I don't return to my previous happy state.

Yes, I may appear happy to you.. in person, in pictures, wherever. But I'm not. You know this, right? I turn off my sadness for you. Actually.. no. I turn it off for myself. When I'm around other people I prefer to be "happy" so that I'm not asked questions or encouraged to feel better. It's futile - trying to make me feel better. Sure, I suppose I'll laugh for a second or really enjoy that ice cream, but that's as long as the feeling lasts.

Now that I have this everlasting sadness I can only laugh at my new-found abilities. Did you know that I am quite the driver when my eyes are flooded with tears? I can also cry in public without caring. Apparently even in front of my coworkers (whom are all men). I tear up at the slightest mention of Aidan and can jump between "happy" and sad at a moment's notice.

It's just so very hard to have this sense of longing and loss constantly clutching at my soul. With time the waves will become shallower or perhaps less frequent, but I know the sadness is here to stay. And this only makes me sadder.

I long for Aidan. I long for him to be in my womb again. I long for things to be the way they used to be. I have him in my possession again, which is slightly comforting, except now he is only ashes.

I am bitter and jealous of the ever-growing list of women around me who are pregnant and popping out babies left and right. Healthy, live babies.

I am thankful for my husband, who is oh so understanding of my sad days and my need to just sit on our couch and crochet; and for my friends, who somehow seem to get it when I just don't want to hang out.

I am anxious at the thought of trying again, of when to start and if we will even be ready or even be able to get pregnant again.

So this is where I am right now: Dancing between moments of fake happiness and out-of-the-blue intense sadness. The in between is just a feeling of numbness and apathy.



This post is part of Angie's Right Where I Am Project.

just a plastic bowl

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.

$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!

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.

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.

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.

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.