Approaching May

I had anticipated that May 2018 would be rough but April surprised me. The end of the month brought me back to one year prior–36 weeks pregnant, 37 weeks pregnant, 38 weeks pregnant. Tomorrow marks the Monday that last year I was 39 weeks pregnant.  Spring is my absolute most favorite season. I wanted both of my children to have spring birthdays–it’s the season of new life, of hope, of growth.

Last summer I had to “unfollow” another loss mom. She’s had a long and heartbreaking journey through fertility treatments, 2nd trimester loss of twins, and eventual adoption. She and her husband adopted an embryo last summer and her due date was May 5th. Yes I was happy for her, no I couldn’t bring myself to continue going to my support group and watch her growing belly, knowing that her timeline would follow mine from one year ago. Too painful. I found out that she delivered her healthy baby girl via C-Section last Thursday. So happy for her. So sad for me.

Yesterday I found myself at a “Baby Fair” (no, they weren’t selling babies, it’s one of those indoor yard sales where people set up tables and try to sell off their used kids’ clothes, books, and toys–they’re very popular around here). I was there to scope out toys and books for my oldest. I hate picking through used clothes at those type of sales. No luck finding any Shopkins but I did manage to pick up a slew of Magic Tree House books for a bargain.  It’s getting easier to see babies although there’s always a bit of an ache in my heart for what I should have but don’t. I ran into another loss mom from my abandoned support group. This is a mom I actually like very much, who I feel actually gets my pain. She lost her son, Malcolm 3 ½ years ago at 39 weeks. Since then, she’s gone on to have twin boys who are now a bit over 2 years. I remarked that my one year is approaching and that I don’t know what to do. We don’t have a grave. I’m not planning to go to work that day but my husband has to give a final exam and I’m hoping to send my oldest daughter to school. It will be a Tuesday this year. I don’t want to have a party for my dead baby. I know some people do that, and that’s fine if it works for them. I can’t imagine saying Happy Birthday. A happy birthday would be one here on earth with her family. I’ve thought about making the 50 minute drive to the hospital where I delivered. Then what? I’ve thought about having flowers delivered to the nurses on the labor and delivery ward. I’ve thought about curling up in bed for the day.

This coming week will be difficult. One year ago I was at the very end of my pregnancy, ready to meet my baby. It was this week a year ago when my husband became very sick, one year ago this Saturday when he was admitted for observation at the local hospital. And that is likely when Corva died. As I lay down with Astoria, I fell asleep only to awake at midnight and throw up violently (I’d been sick the entire pregnancy). I often wonder if that is the moment life left her little body. On Sunday Astoria and I picked my husband up from the hospital and on Monday May 8, 2017 I awoke in labor, having no idea my baby had already died.

It’s spring again, one year later. The snow has melted. The birds are singing. My friend’s goat delivered two healthy babies last night. But all I can think about is what I don’t have. My hope is gone.

11 thoughts on “Approaching May”

  1. I’m coming up on two years. I do find the spring so hard, lots of memories are triggered. I found that the lead up to his birth date was harder than the day itself, with lots of remembering the days leading up to his death the year prior and wondering where it all went wrong and how I might have intervened to have a different outcome. The day itself was not as bad as I feared. I did work, which I think was right for me. I work part time and I’m not supposed to work on his birthday this year and I’m actually considering asking if I can add the day. I’m nervous I’ll spend the day crying. We ended up buying cupcakes and flowers to plant in the garden. When I got home we went outside for cupcakes and planting. Likewise I don’t have a grave in part because we donated his body to research and had to sign away his remains. Instead we planted a garden for him in our yard. Last year I added a Jizu statue.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I clicked the like button, but there is nothing to ‘like’ about your sad loss. I am so very sorry, I don’t know why these things happen, life can be so cruel. I have though long and hard about various other losses in my life, my mother, my grandmother, a friend and none at all compare to the grief from losing my babies.
    Then sometimes people who have lost get another child by whatever means and they go around saying “God is good” and “I deserved this piece of good news”. Conversely I sometimes see that as them saying, that I don’t deserve good news and that is why I have been unable to conceive and carry again. Twisted grief rationale going on, huh.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Precious Corva. The month of April was incredibly difficult for me as well. Please know as we meet our girl’s first birthday next week that I will be holding space for you and for Corva. I imagine our sweet girls playing on the seashore with the rays of holy light resting on their faces. Sending you love.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: