Working our way back to “Normal”
September 27, 2007 – if my math is correct, this is the day that our Sweet Lucy was born into a litter of 11 black golden retrievers. suffice it to say, they were all supposed to be pure-bred goldens, and so we got a sale on our sweet and sassy puppy eight weeks later. She is a great addition to our family and we love her fiercely.
September 27, 2009 – if my math is correct, and at the risk of TMI, this is the day that our Bright and Brilliant Boden was conceived. From the first kicks, to his first cries to listening to him read “Dr. Seuss’s ABC’s” to me last night before bed – every moment spent in his presence makes me so humbled and thankful to be his Mom. His entrance into this world is what officially made us a “family” and his presence is what has redefined our definition of life’s purpose.
September 27, 2012 – the day we said goodbye to our Second Baby B.
13-short weeks of gestation was nowhere near long enough, yet, I still feel that we were more than lucky to encapsulate such hope, excitement and wonder into such a very, very short amount of time.
it’s amazing how one date on a calendar can carry such range of emotions – or, in the case of the first two dates, a complete un-knowing of events that will ultimately mold and shape your life. And yet, in the latter, a date where you are fully aware, within every passing millisecond, how this affects the very being of that singular instance, without ever knowing how it will ultimately shape every moment that will follow it.
i have no words to explain what it’s like to see your little baby on the ultrasound screen, and instantly know that there is no heartbeat. i really have no way to describe the waves of emotions, thoughts, feelings and lack thereof that continue to crush, strangle and drown you while you work to maintain some semblance of normalcy, and fight your way back to “OK”….. one day.
people are kind. people are sweet. people don’t know what to say.
i really do appreciate the kind words, the hugs, the emails, the smiles of support, the looks of pity, the encouraging words and comparisons to roads that may or may not be similar to ours that others have already traveled.
i don’t know why. i can’t say if this really is for the “best” and i can’t honestly say that i am “OK” or that i will be “OK”.
but i know how fortunate i was to carry our Little One, even if for a brief instant in time.