Thursday, December 23, 2010


I went out to get coffee this morning, after the dog let me sleep in before her morning outing.

I went out to get coffee this morning, the first time I've left the house before, well, noon at least, all week.

I went out to get coffee this morning, in the raw cold, the sky a whitish gray, grayish white.

And when I got back in my car, I looked at the clock; at the same moment, bells chimed: 10:00 am.

Two days will make it three years.


Each anniversary is different. Each year has been different. It's kind of like BC/AD. The grief integrates, changes, morphs, fills cracks, breaks through in different ways. My understanding of what happened changes. My hopes for the coming year change, grow, shift. I find the hope that I had lost before getting pregnant -- really pregnant -- that lostness seems to be drifting in and out. Hope for parenthood gets more and more hazy. Or maybe it's my vision. Clouded.

But it still stings. All of it. Everywhere.

Just as I feared, I am not the same. I don't know that I want the old me back. Maybe I just want three years back. Or maybe just those 20w 5d. When I wasn't consumed with nausea or worry, I was filled with joy. Hope. Hope for wishes come true.


I don't wish anymore. Not really. Oh, yes, I wish for a snow day, or a winning lottery ticket, but nothing important.

The old me is gone. The new me? Well, she's stronger. Strong enough, anyway, I guess. Though, awfully tired. Some days, she's normal, like anyone else, moving through errands and grading papers and trying to do whatever else needs to get done to m. Like anyone else. Except not really.

It's invisible to most people, I think. Though I sometimes wonder what people think when they look at me, listen to me kvell over my darling baby nieces. (She loves kids, talks about if/when, but she's gotta be 40. What's going on there? Why doesn't she have any?)


Two days begins the 10-day journey. From where to where? Young to old? Hope to resignation, maybe. Filled up to emptied out.


Hope and joy. Peace. It's what the season is about, isn't it?

Where do you find it?


luna said...

thinking of you and C this week, and your beautiful boys. xo

Ya Chun said...

this is a rough time, eh?

We might be strong, but I do feel tired. Carrying grief and sorrow is hard work.


Anonymous said...

This is the biggest conundrum of the holiday season, the hope and wishing thing... yours amplified by such a painful memory.

I don't look at the season the same anymore... sure there are moments of joy but also constant reminders that life doesn't always happen fairly or as expected for anyone. If only everyone had an instance in life to truly understand like we have.

Thinking of you. xo