Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Wow, and all before 9 am.

Do you think that there might be days where the universe just screws with you? Like it's thinking, "Hey, let's have some fun with Laura today." Leave the house, stay in the house--you're still going to be blindsided no matter what you do.

I was straightening up the family room this morning after Tom left for work--there just seemed to be stacks of crap everywhere. I grabbed the copy of What to Expect to put back on the bookshelf and two pieces of paper fluttered to the floor. One was the warranty registration for Nate's stroller and the other was the list of names I had made when we found out we were having a boy. Back when things were completely, totally normal. The list was written in blue pin and beside about ten of the names was my husband's check mark in pencil to mark his favorites. I had written the name and then in parentheses I wrote what we'd actually call him (unless he was in trouble, that's when we'd use the whole name.)

The three at the top were:
Samuel (Sam)
Gabriel (Gabe)
Nathaniel (Nate)
All three had my husband's check mark.

I just sat there this morning and stared at that list. I hadn't seen it since I stuck it between those pages, which was probably quite awhile before Nate was even born. I'm sure that I just stuck it there and forgot about it. But here it was again. A list of names that every pregnant woman in the universe writes out with so much love for that baby inside and so much hope for his future. This is a very important task--he will have that name for his whole life long and someday, years and years from now, it will be carved on his headstone. When we named Nathaniel, I felt confident that he would have a name that would carry him through his life--it was a name that he could run for president with. My little boy with the big boy name.
And so, after crying in the fetal position in the recliner for twenty minutes, I got dressed and went downtown to pick up a copy of Nate's birth certificate for this year's taxes, because you know, I was in great shape to do something like today. But I had to go do it--taxes are due-what?-next week or something and I've been putting this off for a long time. I'm thankful that I'm able to have one for Nate, but I knew that it was going to be very difficult to go and get it. That's why I hadn't done it yet. When I received the certificate, it looked totally normal, just like any one I've ever seen and I was glad for that. His certificate looked just like any baby's--but then I looked in the upper right hand corner where the word DECEASED was written in block capitals. Oh.
I'm sobbing again as I walk through the lobby to the parking lot and to my car. Oh shit. I had just calmed down from the last incident and here I go again. When I reach the door to my car, I look into the passenger seat of the car parked next to me and on the seat lay a newborn diaper and a picture of a very pregnant, very young woman smiling broadly, her arms wrapped around her belly. Really. Why both of those things? I guess I could see having a diaper there, but why a picture of your pregnant self? I guess that will teach me not to look in other people's cars.
Now I'm going to go to the grocery store and pray that I don't run into anyone from my childbirth class.


kate said...

Ugh. I'm sorry. ((((((hugs)))))))

My suggestion for days like that is that you stop by the drugstore and pick up a large large bag of easter chocolate at 50% off and hide in your bed and eat it all. And some ice cream for dessert.

And you do know you have an extra two days for the taxes this year, right? They are due on the 17th. And when in doubt, file for an extension. ;)

Kathy McC said...

(((hugs))) I second what Kate said. Chocolate. And if that fails, Cheetos. The whole bag.

Kim said...

Hugs and lots of love your way. I know it doesn't help much, but I love all those names, and think Nate is the most beautiful of all. :)

Chocolate, definitely.

delphi said...

I actually found my list in much the same way. My stomach dropped, I felt dizzy, and my eyes blurred. I think it was all the hope and happiness that that piece of scrap paper represented.

It is going into C's scrapbook. I am hoping that someday, when we sit down to look at all of C's things, it will begin to represent happiness again.

I am sorry that the universe decided to kick the s*** out of you today. Those days are just really horrible. It is obvious, however, the pride that you have for Nate, especially as you describe picking up his birth certificate.

Aurelia said...

I'm sorry this was so hard Laura. I'm with Kate--large boxes of Easter chocolate please!

vixanne wigg said...

Oh man. I have a folder on my computer with all of those things. The lists. The journal entries I started writing out--thinking I'd write journals for the baby so he could have them later. Digital images of me pregnant (especially love the ones of me smiling and holding my belly when the baby is already dead and I don't know it). They just sat there in that folder and I stared at it every day never sure what to do with it. Delete it? Print it out?

It's still there, but I don't look at it anymore. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks.

I started a new list for Baby Wigg.

Rosepetal said...


Ruby said...

I'm sorry. I hope you have a better day tomorrow.

Though I like them all, Nate is a great name.

When I opened (it came in the mail) my daughter's birth certificate, it had the word 'deceased' in huge, thick, block capital letters sprawled across the whole page. It broke my heart and still does every time I look at it.

Emma's Mum said...

I am sorry that you had that morning! Just so you know - I am completely ignoring taxes this year. I can't even bring myself to look at any paperwork from 2006, let alone get out Emma's birth certificate. I remember the day it came in the mail too. Since it took a few weeks, we already had her dealth certificate. Completely out of order! What is wrong with the universe, I thought......but I will still cherish that piece of paper forever, of course (whenever I can bring myself to actually look at it again). (((hugs)))

niobe said...

Some days it really does seem as if all the stars are perfectly aligned to cause you as much pain as possible and somewhere, behind your back, the universe is laughing at you. I'm so sorry.