“Melissa, if you are acting like this over something that might happen, what are you going to do when something really bad does happen?"
Last Wednesday, something really bad did happen.
So what did I do?
I cried-- loud, heaving, snotty sobs.
I sat--in shocked silence.
I screamed--in anger, in pain, in despair.
I wrote-- to unload the pain.
I drank--lots of coffee--because I could.
I hugged-- my babies-- tightly.
I played--silly games with them on the floor.
I read--to them, with both in my lap, just like we do every day.
I took--the week off work.
I walked--numbly back into the doctor’s office to have one last ultrasound to be sure.
I snapped --at the well-meaning doctor who tried to console me with “information” I already knew because I'm
I hugged--the nurse who knew just what to say.
I slept--through the procedure.
I loved-- on my babies.
I loved-- on my babies.
I stayed--awake through the night, unable to sleep for the movie playing in my head.
I cried--silently as to not wake up Marty.
I showered and dressed--most days.
I read--your comments, emails, messages--even if I didn’t respond.
I found--some comfort in knowing people care.
I went-- on a date with my husband.
I ate--sushi and drank wine like only a non-pregnant woman can do.
I smiled (and maybe even laughed).
I cringed--as a man sitting in front of us at the hockey game randomly asked, “Y’all going to have any more kids? You need three. Three is the perfect number.”
I agreed--to go out after the game to a bar with friends.
I attended--a meeting on Saturday for work and didn’t cry.
I planned-- a family vacation for early February.
I bought--two books and a pair of running shoes.
I fought-- with my husband.
I put--the babies in the bed with me just because I wanted to feel them next to me.
I prayed--although I don’t remember what I said.
I cooked-- dinner.
I took--the babies to one of those bounce houses and didn't run behind them with hand sanitizer.
I cleaned out--my hope chest and threw away years worth of junk that had been (emotionally) weighing me down.
I answered--the phone when a friend called (finally).
I’m not ready to make some grand pronouncement about all things being turned to good in time through the power of…
I am not tying this story into a nice package with a happy ending.
I am not claiming that I have come to terms with my anger, my disappointment, or my loss.
What I can say is that life hasn’t stopped. In the midst of “something bad,” I just kept moving.
And, for that, I am grateful--
for the opportunity to wake up, stretch my body, hug my family, move, and live.
Because MaMe is always so much more than any one event, tomorrow I have promised myself that I will turn the proverbial page and bring back a little more cute and a little less serious. I hope you'll click over tomorrow to enjoy a little something I am going to call, "Makes Me Smile like Peas and Cheese." Seriously, it's going to funny :-)