5 days.

As the day looms ever nearer, my emotions are closer and closer to the surface. They bubble up without warning. I have random crying fits. I had one today while cleaning the girls’ room. It was the Moulin Rouge soundtrack of all things. I was listening to the song “Come What May.” Despite having heard it hundreds of time (I was obsessed with the movie), it sounded completely different to me this time. In the movie, it’s a love song between the main characters. Today when I heard it, it became a song about eternal, lasting love- what I have for my son.

“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place. Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace. Suddenly my life doesn’t seem such a waste. It all revolves around you…”

When we were at Target today, suddenly the toy aisle became suffocating. We were leaving and passed through the newborn/baby aisle. I saw all of the cute stuffed animals, the pacifiers, the lovey blankets. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest while still beating. My mind flashed to the things we are losing again, all of the little baby firsts.

Our waitress at dinner wanted to chat about pregnancy. She told me how lovely our girls were and asked if the next was also a girl. I told her that it was a boy, and she told me that she has 4 and that mothering boys is very different. I just nodded and smiled. She has no idea how different mothering this boy will be. I escaped with as much grace as I could.

We met with Dr Furigay again today. The pieces are all in place. The plan is ready. I’ve met the surgeon and the resident that will assist. I’ve met my OR nurse. I’ve seen the actual room where I will have surgery. The team is meeting Monday to talk through everything again and plan for whatever contingencies we can. Everything that can be done to make this as joyous an experience as possible is being done by our amazing caregivers. I have a great deal of peace knowing that we have this team in our corner.
Only 5 days left. Somebody please hold me up. I am starting to crumble.



2 thoughts on “5 days.

  1. I´ve been reading you since the very beginning. I lost my baby girl to trisomy 18 two months ago. I didn’t know she had that condition. Actually, we had been told she had 25% chances of having Down Syndrome. I had an emergency C-section at 36 weeks gestation, she lived 7 days…I just want to tell you that I completely understand what you are going through. Even when I didn’t know about her diagnosis, I felt something was not right. I even cried of fear the day before she was born, but I didn’t know she had that extra chromosome. I’m grieving now. And trying to turn my grief into love. I pray the rosary every day for the souls of all babies and children gone too soon so that they are pampered in Heaven. I also pray for the health of sick babies and children so that they get better. Tonight, as I was reading your blog, I wanted to tell you that your sweet little son is in my prayers. Thank you for sharing your story.


  2. I dont know why that is, I also found it so hard to expose my own grieving, except with others who had lost baby’s. I knew they understood, the hurt is indescribable and I found it difficult to express, there are no terms. In the background and in my silence I discovered a softness equally indesribable seemingly made from my suffering and I clung to that. I have always cherished those moments as essential in healing and they brought me closer to both the essential memorys of this child I lost and to a God I had not known in my past. My Husband and I grew so connected in our sharing of our grief that nothing could take us apart. My Angel is gone from this world but for certain she will be with me in eternity.


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