Early June gets to me. If I went to term with Blue Sunday and he was born as many days late as bub was- he would have been born tomorrow June 5th 2012. So here we are EBD 3.
Hub and I had a catastrophic day on the EDD- May 31st. It was one of the worst days we have ever experienced in our relationship- 15 years together in 3 weeks. It’s fine, we’ll be fine, but there was a careless moment and he just doesn’t GET how to talk to me about Blue Sunday, about our relationship or about his war. It all came to a head on the EDD itself.
We should have a three year old.
That blows my mind. It is unimaginable to picture life with a little kid when I only got as far as imagining a newborn before it was taken from me. It will only get more and more unreal as the years pass, especially with the lens of bub- a little more than a year and a half behind. In some respects, it eases the pain: it is hard to miss what you can’t imagine. In other ways it removes Blue Sunday from me all over again, that hurts. Again.
I was reading a post by Sheryl Sandberg about mourning forher husband. I linked it because it is truly powerful, wonderfully written andhonors her husband in such a way that he deserves everyone to see it. In it, she mentions a prayer:
Let me not die while I am still alive.
This is the prayer, motto, inspiration that those of us with a hard story in our books should keep in our minds.
Let me not die while I am still alive
Let me not shrivel under the weight of loss.
Let me not forget the living as I hold onto the dead.
Let me not waste the life I still have.
I owe that to my baby.
I owe that to my babies.
We have dinner plans with a few of our friends over the next several days; we have parties and trips and classes; we have our lives.
There will never be a time when I forget Blue Sunday. There will never be a May 31st that I don’t remember what would have been. I will try to do so with joy and purpose though. I will try to make this past May 31st was the last horrible one.