Another corner in the road to healing

Today is 11 days shy of being three months since my son passed. I moved seamlessly through my day on autopilot, going to lunch with my husband, coming home, walking the dogs, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, waxing and sweeping again (this time outside). I am just a bit exhausted.

Today for the first time, I could not cry really when going through the cards people sent to us when Penn died. I was going through the cards to complete my Christmas card mailing list, and just teared up, but something came over me that prevented me from crying.

It's as though I am beginning to go through the first part of this journey all over again. The first couple of weeks were surprisingly easier than month one to month two. It was fresh in my mind, but adrenaline I guess kept me sane, and then reality kicked in, and the pain of not having Penn came full force. Just about that time is when people started not being as available to talk, and I guess moved on with their lives. It was time for me to move on with mine to, I guess. But, how do you move on, when you want to hang on to every single memory, every single thought, hair, smell, touch of your child that is no longer with you? It's like being stuck in quick sand. The harder you try to get out of it, the deeper you go, until finally the top of your head is the only thing remaining above the line of sand the encompasses you.

Today, I feel as though a force, perhaps God, pulled me out from the sand which quickly was sucking me under. I feel still in shock but alive. I am still covered with the icky mess, and some is still in my lungs, but I am not in that pool of sand, sinking to my grave anymore.

Van Morrison

It is so completely disgustingly cold outside, and I have four layers of tops on. The grass and trees look greener than ever, but I feel as though I have been transported to Greenland. At least somewhere in Greenland I have fascinated about, as I have never had the privilege to travel to the vast land, I have to dream about what it would be like. It's wet as can be outside, it actually reminds me a little of Washington state.

We used to live there, in the Seattle area. I grew up on Whidbey Island until I was 12, when we moved to Texas. I reminisced of those days on the green shady Island cool, but sunny until I returned when I was 22 after graduating from TCU. But, it wasn't exactly as I remembered it, and was glad to move back to Texas.

Recently I have watched two inspirational movies, as I am a movie watching guru. Namesake, and God Has Grown Tired of Us, both profound movies about the human spirit and the human culture, have inspired me to think about life a little differently. It's not just what exists beyond the end of your nose. There are worlds out there that are in fact different than mine. Most people fall into the habit, much like I have of being ego/ethnocentric. You only concern yourself with what is immediately important, and work yourself into a lonely place, though surrounded by others, you can't help but feel alone in your world.

These two movies made me realize how sad our culture here in America is. By sad, I mean literally, not that it's pathetic, but we are literally a nation that is sad. We inwardly seek to strive for better not realizing it is at the sake of our happiness. We live in a world crammed full of others, but we never even raise our heads to say hello, and when someone digs through the trash for a bite to eat we look the other way as if ignoring him or her will make it go away, after all it is so 'uncivilized'. We trick ourselves into thinking that we are better than everyone else, and our lives are the most important.

Perhaps I am going through a midlife crisis, but this doesn't seem right, and it doesn't seem like a great world to live in, but we do live in it and we do ignore others, and we do surround ourselves with mirrors so that we can always look our best reminding ourselves that we are...the best that is.

I titled this blog Van Morrison, because I have brainwashed myself today with his CD Blowin' Your Mind...while I researched umbrella non-profits, called Easter Seals of Central Texas, and others, and cut Penn's pictures out for insertion into our Christmas cards. Now I have to go build a fire, as the temperature is decreasing as I type!

Penn's little brother or sister

Well, got the sono on Tuesday. Says I am a little farther along than what my FP says. Says I am 11w3to5days, and that the baby has a normally long nose, and small amount of thickness in nuchal area, both signs that no DS present!

Everyone is happy. They are glad this will be a healthy pregnancy. It irritates me. To me it is like saying that Penn was not healthy, that he was not a good pregnancy. Dammit to hell. He was healthy, he was perfect, and the pregnancy was not unhealthy.

I cannot have Penn back. I know this, but the deranged part of me fantisizes about God giving me Penn back through this pregnancy. The maternal-fetal med doc also says with 80% certainty that it'll be a girl. Told people that God has a sense of humor, so much so he would give us a non-down girl, the opposite of Penn, which is what I really want (Penn that is).

My husband says I should be happy. I should be thankful. I am thankful that I am pregnant. That I will have another chance to squeeze precious little toes, and massage precious little legs and arms, hands, and head.

If she doesn't have DS, heart defect, and is a girl afterall, I at least hope she has Penn's hair!