It was a good day
I don't have any jokes, knocks on politicos, or "That's outrageous!" moments for you.
But I can report this weekend was good, exactly as it was meant to be. As Ice Cube would say "Today was like one of those fly dreams..."
Friday marked the day that Mrs. B and I would have welcomed our child to this side of the world had a sudden ailment not taken our baby from us prematurely in late fall. So we spent this weekend in quiet reflection, enjoying life and each other's company and letting faith, good sense, and even a little science and logic guide us to the conclusion that things are happening in the proper order and we'll be parents when we're supposed to be.
Even so, the past several months have been an emotional roller coaster. Family and friends - and I'm including you all who weighed in through this blog - said all the right things. Co-workers and friendly acquaintances said all the right things.
We asked why, 'cause we wouldn't be human or normal if we didn't ask why. We got bitter. I suspect before all is said and done we will again...and again...and again. We laughed. We cried.
I could wrap this up right now with some sort of ism, some borrowed line from a poem like "Footprints in the Sand," or some figure of speech like "what doesn't kill you..."
But the fact is what doesn't kill you is still likely to really piss you off, at least temporarily.
I'm gonna compare this battle with the struggles of a one-time drunk: Twenty years after you've gone dry, you still ID yourself to new people as a "recovering" alcoholic. Less than five months after our loss, we're not healed. We're healing. We're good but still getting better.
Everyday it gets a little easier. Everyday something falls in place to let us know that God or the cosmos or Fred Claus or whatever/whomever you believe in gets us and gets that we're determined to have kids and raise 'em right and teach 'em how to feel ways about stuff. I believe in Karma and fate and so on. So, I don't believe it's any coincidence that just before the weekend Mrs. B's doctor gave her a super clean bill of health and finally, finally gave us the two-thumbs-up go-ahead to try again.
So with every bit of hippietude I can muster, I'm offering a toast to the architect(s) right now:
It's all good.
But I can report this weekend was good, exactly as it was meant to be. As Ice Cube would say "Today was like one of those fly dreams..."
Friday marked the day that Mrs. B and I would have welcomed our child to this side of the world had a sudden ailment not taken our baby from us prematurely in late fall. So we spent this weekend in quiet reflection, enjoying life and each other's company and letting faith, good sense, and even a little science and logic guide us to the conclusion that things are happening in the proper order and we'll be parents when we're supposed to be.
Even so, the past several months have been an emotional roller coaster. Family and friends - and I'm including you all who weighed in through this blog - said all the right things. Co-workers and friendly acquaintances said all the right things.
We asked why, 'cause we wouldn't be human or normal if we didn't ask why. We got bitter. I suspect before all is said and done we will again...and again...and again. We laughed. We cried.
I could wrap this up right now with some sort of ism, some borrowed line from a poem like "Footprints in the Sand," or some figure of speech like "what doesn't kill you..."
But the fact is what doesn't kill you is still likely to really piss you off, at least temporarily.
I'm gonna compare this battle with the struggles of a one-time drunk: Twenty years after you've gone dry, you still ID yourself to new people as a "recovering" alcoholic. Less than five months after our loss, we're not healed. We're healing. We're good but still getting better.
Everyday it gets a little easier. Everyday something falls in place to let us know that God or the cosmos or Fred Claus or whatever/whomever you believe in gets us and gets that we're determined to have kids and raise 'em right and teach 'em how to feel ways about stuff. I believe in Karma and fate and so on. So, I don't believe it's any coincidence that just before the weekend Mrs. B's doctor gave her a super clean bill of health and finally, finally gave us the two-thumbs-up go-ahead to try again.
So with every bit of hippietude I can muster, I'm offering a toast to the architect(s) right now:
It's all good.
posted by James Burnett at
10:52 PM
8 Comments:
You're right in every single point you made there - regardless of the time, you will always still be healing but maybe years from now, it will be more like the way one heals from a bad injury or surgery -a scar that you know is there but that may not be as noticeable to you, certainly not to others, but there, all the same. The analogy to alcoholism is definitely another good one.
And, might I add this too - best wishes in your future endeavors! That "karma" will come your way.
By
Jeni, at 2:38 AM
My parents lost their first child, a boy, only hours after his birth. It was very hard for them but waayyyy back then, not much was really talked about. I think being able to share does help the burden become just a tiny little bit lighter at times.
And now that you can try again... well, that's the fun part, yes?? LOL
Best wishes.
By
CrystalChick, at 6:50 AM
I know where you're coming from, we just also passed the anniversary of the passing of my nephew, who might as well have been my son. I don't see how you can forget, the memories become less painfully sharp.
Good luck, I'll be here rooting for you both!
By
The CEO, at 8:02 AM
You're healing. That's good, that's normal, as are your reactions.
All the best for the future for the B family, of which the departed one will always be a remembered member.
By
Bronchitkat, at 8:11 AM
healing takes time. Even now with 2 healthy ones and one due in May - I still think about the one I should have had (3 miscarriages later).
Sending my best wishes and positive thoughts that this next time all will be as it should.
By
Anonymous, at 11:33 AM
Friends and family may have said all the right things, but perhaps even more importantly you and Mrs. B are doing all of the right things — and thinking the right things — too.
By
thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy, at 12:08 PM
This is why I read your blog. Funny, heartwarming, heart-tugging and real.
Happy 'trying again." :-)
By
SWF42, at 4:18 PM
Thanks for the kind words folks. Like I said at the end of the post though, it isn't a sad time. It's all good.
By
James Burnett, at 9:17 AM
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