Today, its a daddy day blog.
This will be the first time I'll have written since the miscarriage and being in the hospital. I had a few blogs on "Preparing for Pickle", as much as my wife has written about her experience, I've really only shared my experiences with her.
From the first pregnancy, I had had dreams of Pickle being a boy, and like my wife, dreams of what we would do with Pickle. And if any of you knew me, I don't dream. It happens maybe once a month that I dream and I remember. While not necessarily a dream, but a daydream, I saw Sunshine.
I don't know what brought me to this vision, I was listening to The Men's Room afternoon radio program, so there is no conceivable way I was thinking about babies while listening to the show. Nonetheless, I saw Sunshine. I saw Jen and I in the hospital holding our brand new baby boy. Yes, another boy. We were happy, so bittersweetly happy. We had our Sunshine. I turned and told the nurse I would go tell the parents while Jen was resting for a moment. I went out through the classic double doors and while tear streaks ran down my face, an equally long streak of a smile ran across it. I looked at our families and said, "Its a boy!" There was hugging and joyous crying for the same reason as I had been. I told them the nurse would come out and let them know when they could come back.
I returned to my wife, and I stood over her, my forehead to her's looking and stroking our new baby with my pinky as I was terrified (and am currently fearing) of breaking Sunshine. It was an amazing moment. All of this while I was driving. I saw it all in just a flash. I couldn't help but well up and feel sad and another moment of peace with the miscarriage.
The next day, on the same drive home, "The Crow and the Butterfly" by Shinedown came on the radio. The lyrics sent me over the edge and I lost it while in the car. It was hard to hear lyrics that I can see myself having done in one manner or another.
"I painted your room at midnight
So I'd know yesterday was over
I put all your books on the top shelf
Even the one with the four leaf clovers
Man, I'm getting older
I took all your pictures off the wall
and wrapped them in a newspaper blanket
I haven't slept in what seems like a century
And now I can barely breathe"
We'd been planning on how to rearrange the apartment right before the miscarriage. We'd even gathered a little over a dozen four leaf clovers. And we literally took our ultrasound pictures down, and put them in our special memory box. Since the loss, I've had my own paternal instincts of providing, protecting, and planning everything under the sun. I've not slept well, I've had confidence and concentration problems. Combine all of that with the memories of being in the hospital and you'd know why I lost it.
But my life after the loss hasn't been all bad or entirely hard. I've found peace in some of the messages of "The Tao of Pooh". Specifically, saying at least once during the day, "Today is my favorite day." I find that it helps me reflect on all of the good of that day. To appreciate things as they are. To appreciate that I am spending every moment with my amazingly strong wife, who has her own ordeals that she's going through and then there are things that WE are going through together.
But today, as I download a game, do the laundry, watch "Julie and Julia" with my wife there is only one thing left to say:
Today is my favorite day.
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