Just like any other day
April 5th is almost over. That was his due date, 2 years ago. It’s a funny thing, that due date… he probably would not have been born on that particular day, but it’s a day etched in our calendar forever. It was the alternative – the fork that led to the light. Instead he was born a month early, silent. He should not have been a dead March baby; he should have been a live April one.
But like many other days, this one passed simply, with barely a whisper between Denis and I as we remembered. It was acknowledged. That was enough.
Looming overhead are the next 3 weeks. 3 weeks, I chant, 3 more weeks. Until I hit 36 weeks, until I pass that gestation when he died. It’s strange, this mental space I live in. It’s not fear, not exactly. It’s not buzzing with energy. It’s just this very quiet in-between, a place of held breaths and whispered words. Every day I feel Kate squirm and kick in my belly I smile and pat her gently, saying ever so quietly to myself, Still alive. That’s good. It seems so ridiculous, but yet there it is. She’s alive, so it’s a good day.
Yes. Sending hugs and thoughts.
Hugs to you!
It’s so not ridiculous at all.
Thinking of you and hoping the next three weeks are quick.
Love you, girl.
*HUGS* That sounds all too familiar. May the coming three weeks bring you nothing but kicks, also in the ribs as uncomfortable as they may be *HUGS*
Big Hugs to you!
Hoping the next three weeks speed by and that Kate’s kicks reassure you every day.
*hug* … I hope that it’s the quickest three weeks you’ve ever known. I know this feeling … and it’s not ridiculous at all.
Thinking of you.
((HUGS))