Impossible Words

June 27, 2009

There are a few words that I never thought I would have to associate with my pregnancy. One of those is “funeral”. Mike is on his way to begin the arrangements for Nick’s cremation. Our plans are not settled just yet. But, the basic idea is that we will have some small gathering at a park with friends and family and spread a few ashes under a tree. I was thinking of planting something there, some flowers or a small shrub- even though the park rangers might not like it.

It’s one of the more surreal aspects of losing a baby. You have to do something with the body. You immediately have to start thinking about how to memorialize someone you never got to know and that requires a conversation with the other parent that has to be logical and clear. “What do you want to do?” Well, I’d like to turn back time and, like some choose your own adventure story, change fate. But, with that being impossible, I would like to forget about it entirely. Again, impossible. So, I guess we’ll have a memorial.

Another word that I was hoping I would never have to consider post-partum, though with Nick’s lung issues, there was always the chance, is “single”. Though it’s expected that Mike and I should feel cheated after our loss, it’s really Alex who has been robbed. He seems to me only one half of a person, with the other half mysteriously missing.  I never wanted more than one kid, but now feel totally responsible for giving Alex the sibling he was undoubtedly supposed to have. 18 months. That’s how long I’m supposed to give my body before trying to do this again. And do I really want to go through any of this again? In 18 months, I’ll be 37. All of the anxiety about bringing a healthy baby into the world is exponentially worse at 37.