Today marks something for me that could have been, but never was. It’s not something I’ve dwelled on too much since the start of the year- or I’ve tried not to at least- but it’s certainly something I’ve been thinking a lot about today, at the beginning of a week that, well, could have been life-changing.
As I said at the time, when it all happened I didn’t feel the need to mourn as such. It was an upsetting and traumatic time, of course, but those few weeks were such a rollercoaster of emotion and confusion that Paul and I never really had the chance to imagine ‘a life’. And certainly 2014 has been so jam-packed with 30th birthdays, a house move and a fantastically busy Utterly Wow season that I genuinely don’t know how I would have managed it all. I take comfort from the thought that our timing was just a little premature.
On the other hand, it’s only now that I can look back and truly understand the teeny tiny miracle that ocurred when our chromosomes united. It’s going to be harder for us now a tube down, and it makes me sad that instead of the ‘happy surprise’ we experienced last time, our next time is going to be fraught with early testing, anxiety and worry. We’ll try not to fret, of course, but I think those feelings really are inevitable given the circumstances.
So here I am, on a day that coulda’ woulda’ shoulda’ been quite different. I only remembered it because it’s my Mum’s birthday (Happy Birthday Mama Moomin!). The first quarter of the year wasn’t very nice but I had plenty to distract me through the spring/summer and I’m feeling good- if a little pooped. I’m allowing myself a pause today though, a moment to imagine what could have been this week, and a chance to ponder the question, “…What if?”. Rather ironically, my reflection couldn’t be more timely. I recently found out that October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, with the 15th October being a day in particular that people from around the globe are invited to light a candle and remember their loss, however great or small. It’s a bit cheesy and American but for once I find myself being appreciative of such a thing.
And finally, the title off this post suggests things aren’t entirely sombre, and they really aren’t. For this very morning, on a day that had been on my periphery for the last eight months, and several days early, my step-sister and her wife welcomed a much-longed for little boy in to the world.
Welcome to the world Ethan Thomas. You are beautiful and going to be very, very loved.