Relaxing Doesn't Make Babies

Tying loose ends, ready to fly

March 29, 2009 — 11:59 pm

It has been a very long week and it still hasn’t sunk in that it’s over yet. Saturday I was at work until 9pm, trying to finish everything up… then this morning I was back in there at 8am. Thankfully I was done at 10:30, without feeling overly rushed. It felt good to print off the stack of notes and instructions, make sure everything was set up correctly and labelled, say goodbye to my boss, and leave.

Vacation, vacation, vacation. Sometimes it doesn’t even matter where you go, as long as it is somewhere else. Of course in this case it matters, since I’m going home to see my family, but right now, at this very minute, I’m just happy to be leaving. Leaving the customers, the clients, the cats… the demands, the responsibilities, the never-ending to-do lists. Leave it all on my desk, I’ll return to it later… but right now it is not my problem.

All of the cats were pissing me off mightily this weekend. I work with cats, and normally I love it. I did love one of my special cases, a used-to-be-feral, climbing on my lap while I counted out cans of food on the floor. However… the cats stepping on the computer keyboard, biting my pens, and taking off with half of my fucking breakfast… well, them I didn’t like quite so much. And then I came home and attempted to print off some things for clients and Merlin ended up walking across them leaving smudges, and insistently and violently headbutting my mouse hand. A new rule took effect: no cats on my desk while I’m working. I’ve just had it with them. I love that they’re sweet and attentive, but I need to get shit done.

I was so busy I had to force myself to stop reading my book (the last Harry Potter book!), which I am halfway through. I am really happy to be able to crack it back open tomorrow… I figure I’ll be done before my first flight lands for my layover.

I am not, however, looking forward to the pain I get in my left knee every time I fly. 5+ hours of that shit is not fun. (And I still can’t figure out why only my left, not my right.)


Today after work my MIL and Step-FIL arrived so we could go to the Hospital’s memorial service for children. They do one every year – this was for all the 2008 children and babies.

I was really unsure of what to expect from it in terms of emotional attachment. Had it been last year I think it really would have been something special, but at this point it’s been over a year since his birth and loss. In so many ways I feel like I’ve moved on a lot from the grieving and mourning. That’s why I wanted his birthday to be more of a celebration than a time for grief. I’ve grieved, hard. I’ve been through hell. And now… now I feel like I’m standing in the sunlight again.

So I don’t think it was as helpful to me as it could have. Especially since a couple things about the ceremony struck me badly. The first was one of the readings. Most of them were very nice. But one of the first ones read was The Prayer For Children. Go take a quick peek – don’t read the whole thing, it’s long, but just get the gist of it. And then come back and tell me – how the hell is that appropriate for a ceremony for dead babies and children? All those things in the prayer are things that our children will never get to do. It just seemed so completely irrelevant and I just sat there thinking, what the hell is the point of this?

The other thing that bothered me you can probably guess. It happens all. the. time, even in places like a memorial for dead children where you would think oh, no it wouldn’t happen here. Yep: babies crying. There were quite a few children there – siblings of the deceased, I am willing to bet. And I totally understand that. But it is NOT a place for younger children who do not understand and can not stay quiet! Goodness gracious, how incensitive can you be?! And the parent took their time deciding to take the child out, too. I threw Den a look and rolled my eyes in frustration. Thank goodness I am a year out from my loss, or I would have been doing more than rolling my eyes.

However, there were good things.

In the room they had several tables set up for people to put pictures and memorial items. I brought Devin’s picture and the little Sheepie Jr. I kind of wished I had done something more than that, at least with his name on it, but of course this was not the week for being able to do something crafty. But, still, it was a good feeling to put his picture there and watch people look at it with respect. There were other pictures of stillborn babies on the table, too, which I looked at for a while. I thought, what a wonderful thing this is, for us to be able to freely share our photos of our dead babies without worrying how others will react at the sight a 22, 34, 40 week stillborn baby. These photos are our treasures, yet are still socially unacceptable. Such a simple thing as being able to display them in public means so very much.

At one point during the ceremony, we were all seated at round tables in this ballroom, people of all ages and races. Some women were obviously pregnant, some families had children with them. But as I sat there, looking around the room as the familiar feeling of resentment crept up I realized where I was and why we were all there. All of us had lost a child. The woman seated at our table, who was pregnant but not hugely so, was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue and lit her candle for her twins she had lost. My feelings of frustration dissipated as fast as they had come.

So all in all it was nice, but I didn’t even cry. Interestingly enough, Den found it harder than I did. He got choked up a few times. MIL had tears. I felt kind of strange just sitting there, drawing on the quilt piece (for the memorial quilt they make every year), making mental notes on this and that. In a different time I probably would have been far more emotional. But this is just not the time for me to grieve.


The FET cycle is chugging along. I’m at a few days out from transfer now, not really sure what that translates to, and I have no desire to look it up, either. I’m not a part of any cycle groups, so I have no one to compare symptoms to or countdown with. I’m free floating, and I like it. I’m not paranoid about what I eat or what I do. Last cycle I was so nervous for the whole week after transfer, worried that I was going to somehow jar the embryo lose or knock it out – illogical, I know, but this process does not really lend itself to logical thinking, it’s all gut fears and paranoia. But this time? Oh whatever. I’ve been watching out the window, waiting, for so long. This time if it comes it can ring the damn doorbell.

One response to “Tying loose ends, ready to fly”

  1. Nicole says:

    Hope you have a great vacation!