So I got to do something that all stay at home mom’s of little children DREAM of doing the other night.  I got to leave the house and meet friends for dinner and a movie.  WITHOUT KIDS.  It was a miracle.  It was hard, to pull away and know that my little 2 month old suck-fiend is in there along with my nearly two year old and my 8 year old and MY POOR HUSBAND.  Still, push came to shove and I put it out of my mind as best I could and I had a GREAT time.  I’m so glad that I went.

We had burritos at a taco place near the theater and went to see (dun dun dun!) “Sex and the City”.  I was never big into the series, as we never had HBO, but familiar enough with the stories and characters to care.  And it really was a pretty good movie.  A LOT of boobies to be seen (along with *cough* some other parts too), but also some good romantic payoff too.  I walked away feeling GOOD.

But at one part of the movie, Carrie was feeling a mite blue, and when talking to her friends, mentioned that the tragedy that befell her wasn’t entirely surprising.  She had some warning signs.  But she didn’t want to “speak them aloud“.  And in that moment, I totally knew what she was talking about.

Four years ago, right before we lost Jackson, I had some warning signs.  It was a busy weekend at our place, but on Sunday night, I lay in bed wondering when I’d last felt movement.  I couldn’t quite remember.  But I didn’t want to think about the worst possible scenario.  I didn’t want to vocalize my fears.  Saying them aloud would make them more real and I wanted anything but for them to be real.  So I didn’t say anything to Kile about the lack of movement.  I didn’t mention it to a soul.  I put it out of my mind and it was alarmingly easy to do so.

There’s a little shame in admitting that.

Even though I know that by the time I noticed there was no movement that it was probably already too late.  Still.  There is guilt.

This is why, when I went into labor, I had the voice in my head saying, “I sure hope that baby is still alive in there.  Maybe he’s not.”  I even “joked” to Kile about it.  Breezily enough that he didn’t even pick up on the fearful undertones.  That is why he was blindsided by the news that Jackson was gone… and I was not.  I mean, I was, but I wasn’t.

What would have changed had I spoken my fears out loud?  Anything?  I doubt it.  I’ll never know though.  Will I?

Tags: fears, Jackson, loss, Sex and the City, stillbirth
Filed under Jackson, Seriously |

Long-time readers of this site are well aware that I have a “thing” with this whole month.  March, it has not been a friend of mine.  Growing up, I was never very fond of of it.  It was no December, let’s be honest.  I lumped November in with March since I found nothing redeeming about it either.  Both seemed to have questionable weather and a gnarly habit of fostering evil events.  I never cared much for Thanksgiving and forgot to wear green a few too many times and ended up pinched within an inch of my life on St. Patrick’s Day.  Do I need to mention the Ides of March?  I mean, historically we’re talking about a bad month all around, right?  Now, November got a reprieve when Harry was born on November 10th.  Suddenly, it was off the “shit list”, so to speak.  I made peace with Thanksgiving too, when I discovered the delight that is a fine turkey sandwich.  But March was still on the platter.

I knew a lot of people who died in March, for one thing.  Grandparents.  My good friend’s mother.  And now that I was living in Reno, the poor weather started taking on a whole new meaning.  March became the “tease” month.  Springish weather one day, snowstorm the next.  Wind and rain and sleet and ice and snow and BLEH.  Who needs it?  And then?  2004 rolled around.  And I was about to find out just how awful a month March could be.  I was pregnant at last after long years of infertility.  I had a c-section scheduled for March 29th.  Then?  It all went horribly wrong.   It was unreal, the awfulness I felt.  I still have a hard time entirely processing just how it all happened and how we made it through.  My baby was buried on March 31st.  Talk about unreal.

From then on, it was war.  I had no trust left for March (we won’t even go into how I felt and still feel about 2004).  Even when March has been civil, I have held it at arms length.  I’ve considered this a month that I need to endure.  Just hold my breath and make it through the 31st in once piece.  If nothing bad happened, count my blessings and move on.  And I will admit, that perhaps (just maybe), I didn’t give March a fair shake.

I know, I bet you thought you’d never hear me utter the words.

See, I have good reason to believe that this March will redeem itself beyond my wildest dreams.  It will, like November, have new status as a “reformed month” and will (for the first time ever) actually become precious in my eyes.   Evie is due to be born on March 20th.  Noon.  Should we actually be able to pull this off (and believe me, I will always doubt first and ask questions later), I will actually have something to celebrate in March.

What a concept, right?

So I just wanted to say: Welcome, March.  Come on in.  Make yourself at home.  I’m making an effort here, and I hope you do as well.  Let’s put the past behind us, shall we?

Tags: Evelyn, Jackson, March, pregnancy
Filed under General Snark |