The memorial at which I was to speak took place on Sunday. I didn't speak because I didn't know that it was on Sunday. I was upset, to say the least. I still don't know if the fault lies with me or someone else, but it hardly matters. I was mortified and hurt and disappointed and so on. It sucks because it was a missed opportunity and because I let people down (albeit unintentionally), but so be it. There's not much more to say.
I did make it to the hospital, though. The man had hernia surgery today and I made a quick visit to HRP, my heart in my throat as I did. I saw one of Eva's neonatologists, Dr. W. She was being seen at the Antenatal Testing Center and was like a fish when I saw her regarding Eva. But at least she remembered us. That's something.
I didn't get to see many people I would have liked to have seen. And today I feel more wistful for Eva than despairing. The boy told me this evening that he dreams about Eva every day and he asked me if she will grow. If only.
But hey, at least the man's surgery went well.
This started as an online journal in early 2006. At the time, it was a carefree spot for silly diatribes and the occasional photo. Since then, I got pregnant with mono.amniotic mono.chorionic twins, learned one of our daughters had a heart defect, spent 11 weeks in a hospital room and 29 more days with Eva in the NICU and PICU before losing her. We have two children who are alive and thriving and one who didn't make it. For me, this has become that place in between.
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