Six months ago today I finally gave up on trying to sleep around 4am. My doctor came in a little before 6 to give me another dose of cytotec. She checked my cervix first and then told me to try a little push. She didn’t tell me it was time; I thought she was just trying to see if she could feel the head when I pushed. I pushed and she told me she felt him, to push again. I did and I felt him slide out of me. It was so easy. I was nearly completely numb from the epidural but that part I felt. It didn’t hurt at all. There was just a little pressure and he was gone from me. I remember the doctor saying in a very soft voice, “I have the baby, he came out still in the placenta so we’ll get him out and cleaned up and give him to you.” I wasn’t crying. The whole thing was a little unreal. The lights were still off, the nurse and my husband didn’t say a word. I was relieved that it was over, but scared to see what my poor little boy looked like. I remember the rest of the day in bits and pieces but what gets me today is that I forgot.
I did not realize today was six months until I was trying to catch up on a friend’s blog and read her loss story. I started thinking about my experience and suddenly realized today is the first. The first day of the month that marks a time when Aiden has been gone longer than he was here. I remember thinking at the beginning of this awful journey that the dates would always be hard. The 18th when we found out he was dying, the 30th when he did die, and the 1st when he was born. But that hasn’t been the case. I don’t notice the 18th, or the 30th. I sometimes forget the 1st. Just this morning I was thinking that I am doing a lot better than I think I should be. I feel like I have forgotten my son, like he was just a dream. In part I’m glad that I’m moving on because my daughter needs me, but doesn’t my son need me too? Doesn’t he need me to remember him? I’m the only one who will. What if I fail at that too? I keep thinking that I need to write his birth story here, so I don’t forget the details. I wonder if I haven’t done it because I don’t want to remember. Am I really doing okay, or is this just denial? I’ve been so focused on trying to get pregnant again, and I went back to work so quickly, that I just feel like I am sweeping Aiden under the rug. Just minutes before I realized today was the first I was planning a light-hearted blog entry about a recipe I tried last night. How is this my life? My musings on the merits of using cheese in a recipe are interrupted by the sickening realization that I forgot my dead son. On the six month anniversary of his birth.