This year has been easier. No dwelling on where I was last year or the year before. No crying. Just excitement about celebrating.
Until today. All of a sudden I wasn't feeling very well. Then I was feeling awful. I was scared my stomach bug was back. And then i was crying. Sobbing crying. I didn't want to cancel. I didn't want to miss ryan's party. I didn't want to screw up his third birthday the way I screwed up his day of birth.
and then it hit me - every time I think of anything about his birthday, I get nauseous. It is clearly anxiety. And in all the chaos of the last week, I didn't have time to think about these milestones. Until they hit me all at once, like a ton of bricks.
I was alone in my hospital room 3 years ago tonight, hunkering down for another 7 weeks. Contemplating the holidays in antepartum and missing my pups. Changing my cell phone plan to include my blackberry as a wireless modem. And none of it mattered - my baby boy was here 24 hours later.
Tomorrow, instead of being bedridden in a hospital, scared out of my mind, I will be at ryan's 3rd birthday party, watching him climb things and being scared of him falling. The sting of his prematurity will never go away, but it will always remind me of how lucky I am to have what I do today.
Happy birthday eve monkey man. I love you.
Sent from my iPhone
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