Back to the grind/Things I've learned

Hello, friends and frienemies.

As many of you know I've been off the farm for a couple of weeks now, because my family was grieving. I'm always torn about how much detail to give in posts like this, because I tend to be extremely private about my personal life, almost to the point of paranoia.

On the other hand, when I started this blog, Mrs. B and I agreed that I would be as open as possible about who I am and what's going on in my life, because I want readers to connect with me - to feel me, as the kids like to say. My unwritten rule is that once ground rules of respect have been established, then I will consider sharing anything I don't have to be ashamed about. And there's definitely no shame in this instance.

Besides, I make it a rule not to have too many secrets. It's hard to live that way. So my life is a relatively open book. If you wanted to know my bank account info, my street address, and where I'm tattooed? Well, that's a different story that falls under the none-of-your-business category.

All that being said, here's the deal: Mrs. B and I lost our baby. I won't go into great detail. Guys, you wouldn't necessarily get the details anyway, unless you're doctors or dads. And moms, and would-be moms, you'll probably figure it out. A couple of weeks ago, she began suddenly exhibiting symptoms that weren't quite right. The bottom line is after being rushed to the hospital, she was compelled to deliver early - months early - and the baby didn't make it.

We are still sad. We are still grieving and probably will be for the next few months. But, most important, I think, we're living. We're not curling up into little balls shivering in a dark corner somewhere.

I used to think - actually, after comparing notes, we realized we both felt this way - that it was terribly calloused for people who had suffered a loss to say "Life goes on," or anything to that effect. I thought it was mean. I thought it was insensitive. I thought it was an indication that the person uttering those words was in denial. Naturally, I had no idea what I was talking about until this happened.

We realized quickly that this was something that would be with us the rest of our lives, no matter how many more children we have. But we also realized that we needed get our heads and our hearts in order and keep living so that we can plan on the rest of our lives. And as cliche'd as it might sound to you, we don't think our child would want us to wither away, anyway.

And one other thing I've learned over the past two weeks: Those guys who say "we" are pregnant? I'll never make fun of them again. I know I've joked about it in the past. I've called those guys all manner of wuss, 'cause, I reasoned, we're not carrying a baby for nine months. Our wives/partners are. I am one of those guys now.

When your wife/partner is in pain, physical and emotional, over anything to do with your baby you feel it. I'll never know fully what Mrs. B went through that day. I was there. Just feet away. But I'll never fully get it. I do know though, that by the time all was said and done I had stopped referring to her and started referring to we, in terms of pregnancy.

So, my friends, when the time is right we will try again. In the mean time, I/we plan to honor the scant memories we were able to glean, and continue living.