It Could Have Been Halloween

Back when I was in the first half of my pregnancy (you know, before we knew that something was wrong), I told people my due date was Halloween. According to some online due date calculator October 31st was supposed to be my due date, and I had a little fun telling people that come late October we would have a little witch or a little devil.

Even after my first visit with the doctor, when she put our baby due November 4th, I continued to tell people the 31st because, well, it didn't really seem to matter. I knew the baby would be coming at some point around that time, and since babies rarely make an appearance on that expected date I didn't really think it was a big deal.

After Calvin's diagnosis, all talk of a due date disappeared. It would be a miracle for him to make it to forty-weeks. Heck, it was a miracle that he was still alive at that twenty-week ultrasound that changed everything. I forgot that I had been telling people we were expecting him on Halloween because our world was flipped upside down with devastation, fear, and knowing we could lose him any day.

On Thursday, Halloween, I received a beautiful bouquet of flowers from a friend who remembered what I had told her. I also had a message from another friend. I can not tell you how touched I was to be thought of. How the realization of their mindfulness, the fact that they chose to remember and acknowledge my son, brought tears to my eyes. Even though since losing Calvin I've been thinking of his due date as November 4th, this whole week (basically since Halloween) will be hard. So it is amazing to have people who surround me with so much love.

Before dressing the girls for the evening, I briefly let my mind dream of the "what ifs" and wondered if we might've had a newborn to tote around trick-or-treating, or if I might've been in the hospital and missed the girls' candy collecting entirely.

But it doesn't do any good to think of the "might have beens" and the "what ifs". Our reality is that he was never meant to live to see his due date, so I can't really imagine what it "should've" been because I guess the way that it is, is the way it is supposed to be. It hurts. And I'm not okay with it. But this is what my life is. Mother to a dead son.

On Monday we will start a ritual. Something to acknowledge Calvin's life and his infinite presence in our lives. Maybe light a candle, look at a few of the photos with the girls, take down his things from the hospital and touch them.

And then... I don't know what. Then I will continue to do the best that I can and take one day at a time.

xoxo, christine