they never said

I like to be prepared. My mom found a blog for me in the summer of 2010 that belonged to a teacher who had started at a new school and while getting ready to have a baby that would not survive outside of the womb. I emailed a bit with the author and asked for advice and counsel on how she had handled it all. It was helpful.

This year I am working as an Interventionist. I pull small groups from their classrooms and work with them on skills that they need reinforced. I work with first, second, and third graders. This year's third graders are my first graders from 2010-2011 school year. Follow me? More than once it has come up that I had a baby that died that year. *smile* Maybe this is a new stage, or an it's-been-a-while stage, or maybe it's just where I'm at with all this lately but it really doesn't sting the way I would have thought it would...or the way I think it should? *shrug* It's nice to have acknowledgement of my first boy. It gives me an opportunity to talk with kiddos about our response to uncomfortable topics (as they chastise one another for laughing/smiling) and the appropriate time to talk about them (not in the middle of a small group lesson).  

They never said the kiddos would fondly remember when everyone else would rather forget. 

I saw a woman this week that I knew in the fall of 2010. She had her baby in the winter of 2011 so we were pregnant at the same time. I had seen her since, after her maternity leave, but her baby left at home with a sitter, not in an urn. I saw her in a classroom interviewing a teacher. As she walked up to me a few minutes later, I noticed the bump. 

They never said after 2 years of seeing pregnant women, new babies, and babies the age of your angel that the sight of a *certain* pregnant woman would take you right back. 

When I went to my yearly dr appt with Dr v, he announced that he was leaving the baby business. I nodded in understanding and murmured my appreciation for his work in my life and then started crying. 

Y'all, I totally took for granted how amazing it was to have him as my doctor for the pregnancy with Jake. He's never wanted to get into any of the mental aspect of the emotions that I've shown...that is to say, when I cry he pats my arm or hand and rambles on about something kind of, but not really related to the real reason I'm crying, as he exits the room. But I didn't have to explain anything. He used his first hand knowledge to make decisions. I am going to miss him should there ever be a #3. 

They never said the grief would be ripped open when Sammy's doctor, one of the few people to hear his heartbeat and feel his weight, made his exit from our life.