Dates

There are a lot of dates that I know can be difficult for me.  For the first while after Eli, I would struggle every Wednesday.  Wednesday was the day we delivered Eli.  I would watch the clock as the day would wear on and I could relive what had happened the day of his birth and death.  I also anticipated Mondays for awhile.  Monday was the day we buried him.  I would also relive this day.  I anticipated the 5th and still do.  Would it be a sweet day filled with peace and contentment or a day of pain and longing OR would it be just plain agonizing?  I just had to wait and see...like a surprise...but not an exciting on. After some months went by, the Monday's and Wednesday's began to fade and the 5th because more prominent.  As we drew closer to Eli's birthday, each 5th seemed like a countdown to his 1st year birthday, instead of counting up.  After his one year mark, I began the countdown for the 18 month mark.  During this time I was also pregnant with Miles, so I anticipated every Thursday which would signal a new week for my pregnancy.  Since Miles passed away, I have added some new dates to the anticipatory mix.  I hope you realize that I don't do this on purpose, but this has been the way of my grief.  I would love to pick  and choose which days mean what to me, but it hasn't worked out that way.  I found out that Miles' heart had stopped on a Monday at approximately 11:15am.  I delivered him on a Tuesday at 8:00pm. We buried him on a Wednesday.  My day changing week in my pregnancy was a Thursday.  Do you see the problem here?  Of course I still had the 5th to anticipate, and then there was the 26th, which was a new idea.  I can't tell you how overwhelmed I felt by all of this; like my whole life was either counting up to a date, or recovering from one, or actually living in it.  If I could shut my brain off I would do it, but that doesn't always work to my liking.  Luckily, I knew that some of these days would fade into the background.  I knew, from my experiences with Eli, that the Monday's and Tuesday's and Thursday's would fade.  I knew it would take time.  It felt like everyday was a problem for awhile.  One of the first questions Ethan asked after we told him about Miles' death was, "So, are we going to go to the cemetery on the 5th and 26th?"  He wasn't emotional, but rather seemed to be planning out his schedule.  I remember just being speechless as I started to process this idea (it had only been hours since the shocking news...).  It just felt like too much.  It still feels like too much...a bimonthly trip to the cemetery for our whole family. I mean, logistically, that felt excessive.  (I go a lot more than that, but the whole family?).  I just told Ethan I wasn't sure and we would figure it out.  I guess he just wanted to know what this meant for him. Oh, and don't forget the "due date."  The arbitrary date that no one really has their baby on.  That is currently hanging over my head.  It bothers me as I "wait" for what exactly? Miles was due January 26th...obviously, for that is the day he was born.  Unfortuneately, my mortal brain had mapped out more time with him and I thought his "due date" would be much later....like now.

Yesterday, being the 26th, was four months since delivering Miles.  It was a difficult day.  I thought I would be just about ready to deliver a baby; not stand over a his grave for this Memorial Day weekend.  People ask me what we are doing for Memorial Day.  Is that a nice way of asking if I am having a BBQ?  (I know my sarcasm is shining through...it's a great coping mechanism).  I'm not really upset when people ask this, but just so surprised to see where my life has gone over the last 2 years...wishing I were only thinking of a BBQ right now in some ways.  But on the other hand, I am grateful for where my life has taken me.  I no longer see anything the same way.  I don't take for granted the nights where I lay by Lincoln while he falls asleep.  I treasure the hugs from Ethan and look into his eyes more often knowing what a gift I have in him being here.  I see the way Katelyn grows and tries to navigate through this increasingly confusing and chaotic world.  I see the beauty of life more vividly as I have dealt with the sorrow of death.  I feel anchored to my Savior...completely secure in His care.  I have two truly angelic sons.   I know them separately and distinctly.  If you knew my sons you wouldn't feel bad for me.  If you knew the depth of my grief over them you would.