Yesterday was Father’s Day. Last year mother’s and father’s day came so close after losing Nora we didn’t really have time to think about what it meant to us. Just that we needed to hunker down and avoid the world. This year I made plans not realizing the date.
We had a friend’s baby’s christening and our future daycare’s grand opening on the schedule. Matt who usually moves through hard dates only concerned with how I am doing, told me that he didn’t think he could do it. That it was too much and it would be too sad. I wasn’t surprised he felt that way, but I was surprised that he chose to avoid. He’s the one that tells me that we’ll feel better after being with friends, or that we can always leave if its too much.
So we decided to cancel on the baptism, and do a very brief stop into the daycare. We’ve only been to the daycare prior to its opening, so we wanted to see how everything was shaping up. One of the daycare father’s asked if this was our first baby and I said yes. I instantly felt terrible, but I didn’t want to make it awkward and while I’ve gotten through the ‘no, our first daughter passed away’ conversation before, I didn’t think I could that day. Matt squeezed my hand to tell me he understood why I refrained from telling our story.
Later we ran errands and picked up Matt’s favorite coffee, grabbed him a steak to grill and picked up some olives and fancy cheese. We watched some safe movies and called it a day. It was a hard day, but we made the best of it. I’m proud of Matt choosing himself and his well-being first.
On to my pettiness. I know some friends and family reached out to Matt and sent lovely messages to let him know he was thought of. I posted a picture of him and Nora on social media. It was our first pictures with her, before she was moved into the incubator. It’s striking to see, her arms and legs are so skinny in the picture. Later she looked pudgy and almost healthy from the fluids, later she looked too full. I didn’t notice the dramatic change at the time but its so noticeable now.
This picture was taken before the doctors told us how bad it was and how touch and go it is. We were still living in the mindset that the doctor’s were “very optimistic”. I cropped my face out of the picture. I think you can see that I didn’t believe it.
But I’m focused on our close family that didn’t reach out. I’m super annoyed with them. Did they just not think of him? Did they not want to remind him (like he could forget)? Or is he not a father in their eyes now? I just don’t get it. Don’t know what to do? Text me and ask if I thought a message would be well received. Google it. There are 9 billion articles on how not to be an asshole to someone who is grieving. As much as I miss my wine, it’s probably best I can’t drink right now. I’m sure passive aggressive texts would have been sent.
I’m hoping by writing it out, it will force me to get over it. I’m just disappointed in them, mad they made Matt sad because I know he noticed, and full of rage that this is our life.
I know my anxiety is heightened right now which is making this something I can focus on rather than all the things I can’t control. Tomorrow we go for our 32-week ultrasound. We found out about Nora’s mass on our routine 32-week ultrasound. Nothing has given an indication that it could happen again.
Now we worry about the dangling choroid and see if it’s gotten worse, stayed the same, or righted itself. Though with any of the options, there is still nothing that we can do but wait and monitor her after her birth. At least that’s what we’ve been told so far.
So I’m going to continue to be petty and avoid my real worries.