I’m sure anyone with a loss of any kind goes through this and my above average autobiographical memory doesn’t help any but today kind of sucks.
A year ago today, we were en route to NY to visit my in laws and help them move. The dreaded nine day wait was over and right around New Haven, CT I got the call that my pregnancy test was positive. Finally, I thought, I’m going to be a mom. I had to pee on a stick. I had to. I had to get a positive because in the back of my mind I said that even if it didn’t last, at least I would have that.
I told a couple people, against my better judgment, because somewhere deep inside I just needed that for myself. I don’t regret that. Especially now that we don’t know what the future holds. That may have been my only chance.
I will say that I feel some glimmering hope from a surprising source and it’s the video of the husband bursting into tears when his wife tells him after 17 years they are expecting a baby boy. I feel like maybe we have all the time in the world to figure this out.
I don’t know what Wednesday will bring emotionally, as it will be the day of the infamous voicemail. I’ve given myself permission to feel whatever it is and maybe some chocolate and wine will be in order.
I suppose if I have to be reminded of my mourning, it might as well be the month of October where all child and pregnancy losses are remembered. Maybe this year, with some perspective and time now, I can appreciate what the loss of Blastkap actually helped me find: a support network, new life in my marriage, the relaxation response, and invaluable new friendships.
Still hurts though.