No Good Distractions

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Last night Ted and I watched a TERRIBLE romantic comedy that we had netflixed.  I don't even want to tell you which one because that is how embarrassing it was.  I knew this movie was going to suck too.  The thing is, I am not sure what genres are safe to me at this point.  It would be nice if TV or the movies were a good distraction.  Ted suggested that we see a movie today about the end of the world, to which I answered, "YES!  Let's only see movies about the end of the world from now on".  But then I realized that if I saw a movie about the end of the world, in this case "Contagion", I would be awake all night thinking - what if Ted and I have another baby and then this baby catches some disease and dies?  TV isn't really safe either.  We are big fans of True Blood, but this season a little devilish baby was introduced to the show.  I thought the baby was so cute when Max was alive.  I couldn't look at him after Max died.  Even Curb your Enthusiasm sent me into a panic during an episode where a mother had to throw her baby out a window.  One would think that a romantic comedy would be safe, but all I could think throughout the whole movie was - once these two get together and have their happy ending, I am pretty sure their baby won't die.

This reminds me of Facebook.  A place where anyone could get lost for hours.  I can't even log in for more than a couple of minutes.  Sometimes people still send me email there and I like to check my sister-in-law's page for updates about "Team Maxie", but I cannot look at the scroll of updates on people's lives.  I am sure I don't really need to explain how much I envy the person who posts new photos of their lovely children.  I even envy the people that post photos of their dinner.  The mundane going ons of other people's lives is enviable.  There was a lot of activity on my page after Max died, people sending condolences and nice notes about Max.  I couldn't help but notice that a woman who had come to Max's funeral posted on her wall the day after, "Another beautiful day...they just keep piling up."  How could beautiful days be piling up when she had spent the day before at a baby's funeral?  MY baby's funeral!  It still makes me sick to think about it.  I de-friended her.  We didn't know each other that well anyway.

This morning I dreamed about Max.  In the dream, he was sick and dying.  He only had a few days left and every morning we woke up to find him still alive was a blessing.  I got to hold him and kiss him and tell him how much I loved him and he understood.  He really understood the words I was saying.  On the final morning, my aunt called us from the morgue and told us to rush over, Max was dead.  The line was choppy and I could not get the address, she kept cutting out on the phone.  I was trying to look for the address on receipts and in books but I could not.  I was crying and trying to keep my cool but failing.  I know I keep replaying the moment that I received the call from daycare on the Tuesday of Max's incident.  Max's caretaker was hysterical on the phone and said "Max stopped breathing and he is on his way to St. Joe's ER", then she said something about CPR so as I am running out of the house, I am saying "but he started breathing again, right?" and she was saying "get to the ER as quick as you can" and I kept repeating, "he started breathing again, right?" and then I got off the phone so I could concentrate on driving but I had a lunch meeting with two members of my board that I needed to cancel so I frantically called my colleague and asked her to let them know I wouldn't make it.  Then, I called daycare again and she put a paramedic on the phone who said, "Ma'am, your son is being rushed to the St. joseph's Emergency Room" and I said, "I KNOW! Did he start breathing again?" at the very moment he started to answer me, the colleague from work was calling and I tried to hang up on her because the beeps were making it impossible for me to hear the paramedic, but I accidentally hung up and him and got her.  When I realized I had her on the line and not him, I screamed, "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!" and hung up on her.  By then I had arrived at the hospital but couldn't figure out where to park and made several u-turns before just parking in the staff parking lot.  This proved to be a terrible mistake because when we left St. Joe's to follow the ambulance to Tarzana, Ted and I ran around the entire perimeter of the building looking for my car, angry at each other in the moment but really just tense about our boy.  The whole scene haunts me night and day as I imagine it will forever.  It's like right out of a horror movie, another genre I can't watch.

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