Due Date

When I was a little kid, my brother and sister and I used to treat our parents' wedding anniversary like a national holiday.  We woke up early and made them breakfast.  Then we put the breakfast on a tray, along with homemade cards, and woke them up by singing a silly song about love.  I am not making this stuff up.  Looking back now, I realize my mother had probably ingrained the importance of that date into our brains and encouraged us to do something special.  She was good at creating "something special" for people back then, it was kind of her thing.  Years after they got divorced I remembered the date of their wedding anniversary and felt a sort of pang of sadness.

Now I can't remember the actual date, it was sometime in August.  I also don't really feel any pangs.  But I do hold onto the memory of three sweet little kids believing in celebrating something special and believing in love.

Time is funny that way.  Special days, sad days, anniversaries, due dates--they can have a hold over us, give us pangs or remind us of a simple sweetness.  

Love this quote for all kinds of reasons.

This week was my due date.  

My miscarriage isn't something I think about everyday.  But it also isn't something I've been able to completely move on from.  For some reason, I never un-subscribed from the BabyCenter emails that update you with what is happening in the particular week of your pregnancy.  So each week since late August, I've been receiving an update like "Your pregnancy: 25 Weeks."  It became so routine, I deleted it without reading, much like I do PTA update emails.  Subconsciously I think I didn't un-subscribe because then it would be over, for real.  

On Monday, I got the email that said "Your pregnancy: 40 Weeks-Your Baby Is Due!"  Seeing the email, remembering the date, I felt a pang of sadness. Thoughts of how life would be so different filled my mind. Images of holding a precious new pink little baby filled my mind and my heart.  For a moment it was too much.  The pang turned into pain.  But only for a moment because I have moved on--there's been a lot of healing and living and loving that has gone on the past six months.   

Over time, the pangs and the pain will lesson, I may even forget the date, because that's life.  And that's good.  Because what I want to remember is what grieving has taught me, not what is has taken from me.  It has taught me to live more compassionately and honestly and patiently.  It has taught me that everyone handles life (and grief) a little differently.  It has taught me that I want my life to be about celebrating the something special and believing in love.


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One of my friends sent this quote to me the day after I came home from the hospital after my miscarriage last August and the words just spoke to me.  And helped me heal.

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The other side of grief and sadness can make people feel a little stronger too.  And sometimes I do feel a little bit like a bad ass.  Songs like this help.