One month out

It’s hard to believe it’s been a month since Oscar was born. On one hand it seems like it just happened, on the other it feels like so long ago. The time around his birth seemed surreal even then; we gave Alice her bath Tuesday evening when I was in early labour, and by bathtime the next evening we were back at home, and Oscar had been and gone. I’m still finding time to be a bit fluid (more often than not it’s speeding by), but the days definitely don’t drag.

People ask how we are doing, and we usually respond that we’re doing well, or as well as can be expected. This doesn’t mean everything is rosy, but it means we’re coping. We have ups and downs, we cry and laugh, and grief hits in waves as we were told it would. We celebrated Alice’s second birthday last week, and even had a small party for her. Peter is back at work, and I’m keeping things going around the house. Meals, laundry and some cleaning are all happening. Alice is at daycare, Emma is at school, and on the whole things are going smoothly. That being said, it still hits me at times, and sometimes the smallest thing will make me cry. It feels like grief, and in a strange way it feels good to cry, to acknowledge the sadness and find a bit of release. Then it is on with the day again. I have to remind myself that I am only a month postpartum, and I still need plenty of rest. I’m enjoying the things I still get to do for Oscar, like writing these updates and sorting through pictures. I’m blessed with people who are happy to hear his story, and I still hear his name every day. So I can honestly say we’re doing ok.

We’re still reminiscing a lot about our time with Oscar. Before he was born, we had a list of hopes for his time with us. We hoped he would make it to term, and survive labour. We hoped we would have a chance to meet him and hold him. We wanted him to be baptized. We wanted him to be as comfortable as possible, and spare him any distress. When we looked back at our time with him, we realized that all these things happened, and more. He was born at term (39 weeks 3 days), and tolerated labour and delivery just like any other baby would. He came out crying, and looked us in the eyes. We had a strong sense that he knew us. We held him, and shared him with family. He was baptized by the hospital chaplain in a beautiful ceremony. We ate cake and sang him happy birthday. He made it very clear that all he needed was to be held and loved, and that was comfort enough. He was calm and peaceful, and never looked like he was struggling. We had no doubt what we needed to do for him, and that in itself was a tremendous gift. So although his time with us was brief, it was very rich, and filled with all the things we hoped for. This is a huge comfort for us now. We still miss him tremendously, but it’s hard to wish that things had been different, because things turning out differently would have meant that Oscar would have been different, and we love him so much just the way he was. It was such a gift to carry him for as long as I did, and to meet him and spend that time with him. I don’t think any of us will ever be the same.