It was the night before my husband’s birthday – and instead of toasting to a better year, I was trying to comfort a man heartbroken by the fact that his two little daughters were not with us. Maybe I should have thought of it, but I did not see this coming. He explained that this should have been his first birthday with A & C, and while I’m sure the little girl now growing in my belly softened the pain a little, it was still raw and fresh.
Less than 24 hours later, I sat in a movie theater browsing through a big chain’s registry starter gift. Somewhat surprised that this is really me.
And then the movie began, taking me completely by surprise with a scene of a dying mother saying goodbye to her child and the grandparent that would take care of him. And I thought, I’ve been in the position of the child losing his/her mother, and in the position of the parent losing their daughter(s). It’s a bit much pain to take in all at once.
(Fortunately I haven’t been in the dying mother position, and I hope I won’t for very, very many years to come.)