Well, I meant to do a St. Patrick's day post but I just wasn't feeling it. The day hit me hard this year. For those of you who don't know, St. Patrick's day in 2011 is the day when everything started falling apart. We wore our green into the doctor's office and were making bets on what the ultrasound would show: boy or girl. We were 17 weeks along. I remember telling Sam I didn't need him after the ultrasound. They didn't even make us think anything was wrong. The doctor came in to talk to me and told me she made me an appointment for the perinatal center downstairs and I had to go now. Our fluid was low and it was probably no big deal but they had to check. By the time I walked to the waiting room, I was freaking out and tears were running down my face. I've never been so terrified. Then we went from bad to worse when the horrible doctor there told us we should consider aborting our pregnancy. He said our son would probably be dead the next time we came in for an appointment. Just like that... how can you throw that on a parent like that. A first time mother, none of the less. Every time I think about that moment, my heart aches and it still makes me feel... I can't even explain it. To that horrible doctor: even when my son meant nothing to you, he was everything to me. You don't deserve to call yourself a doctor. You didn't even care enough to find out why he was sick. Rant over.
Like I said, this one hit me hard for some reason. His birthday is less than 8 weeks away. I still wonder what our sweet, rambunctious little boy would be like. He'd be turning 3 this year. Three.... that's just crazy. To think we've lived 3 years without him when it felt like I'd never make it the first week. Soon we'll be celebrating his birthday with cupcakes and balloons. I don't think I'll ever get tired of remembering his life. Sigh. Now to start another busy week. After going through all of his things, of course. It's been too long since I opened his box and let my mind drift back.
Like I said, this one hit me hard for some reason. His birthday is less than 8 weeks away. I still wonder what our sweet, rambunctious little boy would be like. He'd be turning 3 this year. Three.... that's just crazy. To think we've lived 3 years without him when it felt like I'd never make it the first week. Soon we'll be celebrating his birthday with cupcakes and balloons. I don't think I'll ever get tired of remembering his life. Sigh. Now to start another busy week. After going through all of his things, of course. It's been too long since I opened his box and let my mind drift back.