This week

Ted and I wondered to each other last night how we didn't realize that this week would be this complicated.  Did we not even calculate what the due date of this baby would be when we were trying for him back in November?  Of course, we didn't....we just waited for the fertility monitor to read that our chances were "high" and went for it.  We had just suffered an early miscarriage a few weeks before and we didn't want to miss the opportunity to become parents again as soon as possible.  In fact, it is quite possible that Baby M was conceived in the middle of the day, at my sister-in-law's house, with our niece Sadie banging on the guest room door and yelling, "An Abbay!  An Abbay!" (Aunt Abby) over and over until we emerged from the room.  (too much information?)  All I know, is it had to be done.....que romantico!

So, here we are, 9 months later and in this one week, two of the most highly anticipated events in our lives are coinciding...and it is nearly too much to bear.  There is nothing more special and wonderful and highly anticipated than the birth of a child.  If you've had one. you know.  That it could happen any day, that it doesn't happen when you want it, that it is a wonderful surprise that changes your life forever, that it is also scary because it comes with so much responsibility (whether it is your first or fifth) - I don't care how devoid of emotions you are, it is impossible not to feel all of these things.  There is nothing more dreaded and filled with sad complexity than the anniversary of the death of your child.  You try to plan what you will do that day, how you will make it through.  You wonder if it will break you, how far back will it set you emotionally, how you will continue to move through your lifetime knowing that you will have to do this every day forever.  The days are approaching and I miss him so much.  I miss him more now than ever.  He is my entire world.  This is why I prayed that these two events would not collide.  This is why I prayed Baby M would get here first.  Maxie's angel day could easily break me....I am already so broken.

And, of course, all week I have been getting emails and texts about how excited everyone is to meet Baby M.  It is cruel irony when my biggest fear all along has been that people would forget Max, that people would forget the day of his passing, that people would stop mentioning him as soon as they found out I was pregnant and then even more so after his sibling was born.  It is like I accidentally planned the perfect excuse for everyone in my world to just overlook his life.  It makes me feel like a shitty parent - to both of them.  To Max for allowing his new brother to overshadow a period of time that should be devoted to his memory.  To Baby M for marring his birthday forever with the anniversary of his brother's passing - he is sure to wonder at some point in his life whether my love for Max outweighs my love for him.  I have wondered this about my own brother for my whole life and our parents relationship with the two of us isn't nearly as complex (although since Max's passing, all of my relationships are 1000 times more complex).

I have a distinct memory of cuddling with Max.  Kissing him and holding him close to me and thinking that if I could, I would want to travel back in time to let a younger Abby know that it all works out.  That she finally does meet the man of her dreams, that she has an exciting and fulfilling career, and that she has a beautiful and healthy baby.  I wanted to assure her that life would be beautiful and that she would one day be so lucky to have it all.  It's a good thing that younger Abby didn't know what was coming.  Younger Abby, who was sometimes so scared that she would end up alone, without a family, and without meaning in her life could never have imagined just how terrible life would someday become - how incredibly challenging it would be - how nothing could have ever prepared her for the heartbreak she would someday feel.  I can't help but wonder what an older version of myself might say to Abby today.  Perhaps - Don't worry, Baby M eventually comes and he helps to light up your life again.  Or, you WILL find Maxie in this lifetime, you just have to keep meditating and talking to him.  He will be with you again, I promise.  Or, simply, that things DO get better.  Or, god forbid - this loss was only the beginning.  Please please please - not that last one.

Tomorrow marks a year since my baby stopped breathing and I still don't know why.  The geneticists don't think it had anything to do with genetics and every other possible cause remains a complete mystery.  Why did MY baby have to die?  Why?  He was perfect and sweet and my very dream come true and he deserved EVERYTHING....everything that Ted and I could possibly give him.  And, now he has nothing.  And we don't have him and my heart breaks again every single day.  And, oh god, I wish I had Baby M in my arms to help soothe this pain but it didn't work out that way.  It wasn't meant to be.  Everything happens for a reason, "they" say.  Can someone please explain to me what the reasons are for ANY of this?  Because it is just too complex for me to work out.  The burden is so effing heavy that my heart feels like it is about to bust wide open.  All I know is this week is barely tolerable...just barely...

If I don't go into labor naturally before then, I will be induced in exactly one week.  So, all I know for sure is that by one week from today - we will have lived through Maxie's angel days and we will either be holding his brother or close to it.  So now, I am up in the middle of the night (as usual) praying that I have the strength to make it through this one week....and then all of the weeks that follow for the rest of my life.  It won't be easy.