Two-Four

Another one, another 24th day of the month. This one happens to be 23 months the next one will be 24 months making it two years since our son was born. Instead of throwing a party..........shit...what are we going to do? Last year was a struggle, I couldn't decide what to do. I mean how do you "celebrate" such a sad situation?? You don't really, but you do something. You drag your tired mourning saddened ass out of bed and face the day your life ended. You stare straight into the death of who you were, you glance at the day that was the single worst day of your life and you recognize it. We had cupcakes, wieners, and balloons. How sad is that? Fun kid type things you get for your kids first birthday. But we didn't really have fun. I still stood behind the lens of a camera and snapped photos, memories I was trying to capture of a child that wasn't there. I was being the mom that day, trying to freeze the moment of the first birthday but there was no child. Looking back, thinking of it right now makes me realize how truly fucked up and sad it was. We did everything you are supposed to do on a first birthday, but the birthday boy was missing. 

Now I get to spend the next month thinking, remembering, wondering and trying to come up with something clever to do on the second anniversary of my sweet baby boy's death. I'm pretty sure this is a type of torture they use in hell. One to tempt and tease, one to inflict pain and confusion and an eternity of sadness and loss. Something you never forget, because after all you are living in hell for a reason therefore you deserve your torture, you took the path that lead to to that brutal place of hate, anger, pain and remorse. Except we didn't make a choice and head that direction it just happened and now in a month, each month following and for the rest of our lives we get to be tortured with the cruelest of pain. 

It's funny how a day can be a crappy day, how everything seems to fall apart, things come undone that you never expected and then you have nothing left to do but go to bed and forget it ever happened. Well that was my day today, I've cried several times, it feels like I've been smacked in the face for no reason and as I sat there trying to figure out why today? Why is it that everything always happens at one time? Then I look down and see those numbers 2-4. The 24th day is back. As time passed there are months when I pass the day without notice and then on the 25th or 26th I realize what has come and gone. I realize I've managed to forget a day that I will never forget even if it was only for 24 hours. It's interesting how each month is essentially a milestone, another month without him. Another reminder that he simply isn't here. The days and weeks and months have all melded together and now there are years! Two  years in exactly one month. 

It makes me sad to think about what he would look like. I miss knowing that I would be able to rub my fingers through his dark hair and soothe him to sleep. But how do you miss something that was never there? How do you miss doing something you never got to do? Again, another form of torture.

With my swollen belly I've gotten a lot of "Is this your first?" and I'm always honest. I say no, and then their eyes light up and ask about the first and I quickly squash their spirits and tell them he passed, putting them in an awkward uncomfortable position struggling for the words....."I'm sorry". Yes I know you're sorry, of course you are who wouldn't be, but really are you sorry for asking or sorry for my loss? Sometimes I can tell they are sorry for asking as they stumble for words while their skin crawls and their internal voice goes "Well now what the fuck do I say?" So I help them out, either explain what happened or change the subject and relieve them of their pain. Go figure.

As time ticks down to my due date it becomes more apparent to me that my dream of my boy and my girl will never be. It is but it isn't. It was but it will never and again the huge hole of that missing person becomes a wider gap in our lives. Our family although growing is still missing a piece, like the damn puzzle you spend 4 hours working on only to realize that one last piece is gone and there it will sit incomplete with an obvious space. Nothing or no one will ever fill that gap.

As more moms produce living babies after losing the last there is a single statement that rings true. They all say how happy they are to finally get their living baby, but how they now realize how much they missed out on the last. The moments and days you get to know your new baby brings sadness for the one you've lost. The realization what you really truly didn't get to have because your baby died. A wound that was still raw but closed and slightly healed gets ripped wide open yet again. Bleeding with emotions you get to mourn the loss again, but in the presence of your living child. I fear what that will do to me. I worry of those dark times in the nursery enjoying her and missing him. I can't imagine such a conflicting feeling to have. All the joy and love for one, and all the pain and loss for another. I hope she doesn't feel it as much as I will. I hope I won't project that onto her and miss out on what matters in those moments just her and I. Screw the handbook for parenting, give me the book for parenting a living child after losing the one before. 

It's close to the end 67 days close actually, 2 years and 28 days after he was born she is supposed to be born. A little sister, a new life. And as I approach it I have to somehow put out of mind what happened to him and tell myself that this "Normal" problem free pregnancy is going to result in a baby. I have to convince myself not to be a crazy lady and push my body into delivering this baby before it's ready, or choose a major surgery just to ease my mind. So I'm trying, I'm trying to tell myself that I will have a normal birth, I will get to hear her cry and I will be ok in the end. So far I'm not winning that internal battle, but I hope I'm right. A little hope a little something goes a long way don't you think? We will see in 67 days or less. But first we have to get past another 24th day without him. 

Comments

[S H]

I've been thinking of you and wondering. I hope you can get that "normal" birth. More to the point, a baby who lives at the end. As you know I lost Hope past her due date, just as you did with your sweet boy, and I got to 38 weeks with Angus and hit a huge brick wall. I simply could not go one. Both my ob and I were so keen for a natural delivery, but she would not induce me when my body was not ready. And it wasn't. Not even close. So I had to go down the major surgery route as I thought if he stayed in there a minute longer, he'd surely die. His pregnancy was normal and healthy, yet so was hers. And she died. I have small pangs of regret I didn't hang on, but it is easy to look back and say that now. I forget how hard it was. Mostly, I'm just glad he lived. That's all that matters.
Counting down the days and hours with you. So close mama.
xo

[alicia]

this was really well written Jen. It truly shows where your heart is, thanks for your honesty, that can't be easy.

I do do do hope you get a normal birth, and most importantly a beautiful healthy living girl.

the 24th will no doubt be crazy hard. maybe instead of planning what to do that day, think about traditions you can do year after year with your family to honour Spencer. I really liked the candle and releasing a balloon thing, we will do that for Spencer again this year in our home.

hugs