I think this is going to be a rough few weeks for me. I’m so, so glad we rebooked our canceled trip to Costa Rica; it is a bright spot to look forward to, to look past all of the landmines.
Everyone I talk to who’s been there says the grieving goes like this, not a steady, straight, ever-improving line, but more of a scatter plot, some days great, some days awful, most just plodding slowly along towards the end goal. And it’s gotten easier as we’ve gotten farther away from the actual event, the shock. But now it’s getting harder again, as we come up on all these little end of pregnancy milestones. As the people who were pregnant with me move on to the life-after-baby phase of their lives – the hearts-and-flowers version, not the gothic novel version that we got – I am acutely, painfully aware of what we’ve lost.
In the next 6 weeks, we have to get through:
My birthday. Originally I assumed I’d be celebrating with an unholy amount of cake and the discomfort of being 35 weeks pregnant, counting down the last couple of Lovenox shots. Now, there may still be cake, but what else? People asking what I want for my birthday. I’m not sure I could care less. The only thing I really want is clearly not going to be forthcoming.
June 28th – 36 weeks. The day I was supposed to switch to the shorter-term heparin shots, 2-3x/day, in a nod to the fact that I could go into labor at any moment. If only. June 28th was the promised land. I said over and over, the baby could come anytime she wanted after that.
July 12th – 38 weeks. The date I tentatively would have been induced. They said they might delay it a bit if things were going fantastically, but all along we kind of knew sometime that week, we’d be having a baby.
July 26th. Last, but not least. Our sweet daughter’s due date, which I imagine will be forever emblazoned in my mind, along with her tragically far off birth date.
When they sent me to L&D from the OB’s office, I was crying kind of desperately, and by the time I arrived, I had quieted down mostly. Until they handed me the intake form, and on it was a space for “Today’s Date,” where I printed, 3/30/12. And below it, I saw the space for “Due Date,” and I saw today’s date, and I knew. This is not okay. This is not okay. Today’s Date was 3/30/12, and my due date was nearly 4 months later, and the crying began anew.
So it’s nice to have the distraction of July 29th, the day we fly to Costa Rica, to take the trip we would have taken if I hadn’t ended up being 14 weeks pregnant at the time. The trip that will hopefully be the last we’re able to take before we sign back up for another round of pregnancy russian roulette and then, if we are very lucky, are too busy with a newborn baby to be thinking of resorts in foreign countries.
It’s nice to have the distraction, but in the mean time, it’s hard not to be sad, as the birth announcements start to roll in.