Monday, October 1, 2007

Cake in the afternoon

Monday, October first. What do I do with this day? Do I go back to my normal life, normal activity? I want to and then picture it in my head and decide I'm not ready. The quick results for my amnio left us with more questions so now we are waiting until Friday for "answers". It's strange how I'm not all that anxious for Friday to come. I had more anxiety about that first appointment, that first ultrasound. I hear myself saying, just expect the worst. You know what's coming so why even wait for it? But then there will be a glimmer of hope. Yesterday, after talking to a friend, I had it for the first time all week. Hope has never been that tangible to me before. Perhaps the absence of it made me recognize it when I felt it again. And, even while feeling it, holding it lightly, I knew it wasn't a guarantee that everything would be OK, but I was peaceful and calm for just a few hours before I started rationalizing myself out of it.

So, here I am - made it to the afternoon. I'm printing a syllabus for a course I had registered to take. I've decided to still take it but have let go of making myself answer if I will be able to complete it or not. I even ate a piece of leftover birthday cake as I sat down to print. I know that sounds strange but food has been less of a comfort than I would have expected it to be. I see why people bring food - when your heart is breaking that last thing you care about is eating - so it's put in front of you and you put some in your mouth and physically you are nourished despite the pain. So, to eat a piece of cake at 4 in the afternoon seemed like a part of Heidi before all of this. Or maybe it's just that tangible hope again...

1 comment:

Mary S said...

Heidi and Brad,
I'm posting after being given your blog from Anita Parker - your friend Karin's mom. My name is Mary and i live in Va Beach. Anita taught my daughter a few years ago at ODC. I have 3 children. My second child is Ryan. Ryan is almost 8 years old and was born with Mosaic Trisomy 18. He is my reason for writing to you. My husband and I did not know of his diagnosis before he was born. For that we feel blessed. My heart breaks for what you are both going trough. And you are right, you will both handle it differently. But knowing that and having patience will help you get through this together. I just wanted to introduce myself and to offer myself as a contact if you want to talk to someone who has been through having a child with Trisomy 18. please feel free to contact me if you feel up to it. My email is msteele68@aol.com.