The Day of Labor

September 7th.

Otherwise known to be called: the day before the day, the day when everything happened

Annually - the day I fall apart, the day the world becomes a movie theatre and everywhere I look images of my past appear, hospital scenes laced with self doubt lead to an affirming, silent climax play on a revolving screne.

It has taken nine years, but it seems the world has finally got it right. "Happy Labor Day" they will say as I drop a memory box off to a volunteer woodworker, visit a daycare where Comedian will go a couple hours a week during the gap when preschool ends and my job doesn't, and spend some special moments with my mother celebrating her birthday - belatedly.

I will smile in return. No more. For their words hit my heart, fit my memory with an accute precision they can never understand. Yes, I did labor on this day. My body riding wave after wave of contractions while my mind lived in a deluded science-fiction, hollywood ending type haze that if I endured enough pain for my allegedly 'expired' baby, she would emerge alive, a miracle capable of wiping those pitying looks off all their faces.

This has always been my labor day. It always will be.

The images have faded, a little. The movie, syndicated, so I only seem to see certain, select scenes.

For I must labor today.

I have been away for two days. My children need love and attention. My house needs the same, The errands must be run. The tomatoes must be canned. The press releases must be drafted, the events are only one and two months away respectively. New parent packets must be made for the meeting on Wednesday. Mothers are still laboring. Babies are still dying.

There is work to be done. laboring.

Perhaps I'll wear my pin today, my necklace too. Maybe they are meant to don my body two days a year.

Emma Grace entered this world, September 8th at 3:30 am. Her birthday - eternally. I knew, resisted, felt certain, doubted, was told, went delusional, then labored on September 7th.

Happy Labor Day to all...I'll never forget.

Show and Tell - An Unexpected Beginning

I have a terrible memory. A really terrible memory. I'm not particularly forgetful, its more that I seem never to register the event in the first place. Add to that, that I am just now learning to live in the moment, recognize it for what it is and smile as I watch it happen, and the question has to be asked: What happened to all those moments from the past? How did I live them and not stash away even a few of the pieces to look back on later?

I'm able to make sense of these intentional omissions as they relate to what happened in the days and months after Emma died, but all those other childhood tales, early adult adventures, and just plain fun random moments...where did they go?

In fact, I have to wonder what I am really missing thanks to my amnesiac tendencies. I know they earn me many cocked heads paired with shocked expressions when I admit to my friends that I truly don't recall the fun night out they just recounted.

Today, I was the one shocked, no - baffled, by my lack of recollection.

***

I opened the journal. I expected to find mid-September 2000 lamentations on paper questioning why my daughter had to die and who should I blame for the 'fluke' tragedy. I was prepared to find profanities scrawled across the page and dark random pen patterns representing the black hole that my heart had become overnight. I know it's in there. I never made it that far, for these were tucked inside the cover.

Eyebrows furrowed at a stack of rather ordinary index cards, and mildly irritated as I mused how they could have been put into Emma's Journal, I started thumbing through.

Clever, Love, Active, Intelligent, Really Sweet, Exceptional

Curious, Loveable, Adventurous, Irresistible, Regal, Expectant

Courageous, Loveable, Affectionate, Innocent, Rambunctious, Entertaining

Cherished, Loved, Admired, Intelligent, Respected, Energetic

Card after card listed these loving attributes, vertically, predicting the life experience of my second-first born: CLAIRE.

And then there were the little notes on the back and they were signed by friends, family, former co-workers...all the people that were at Bear's shower!

The clues merged leaving one obvious solution - it was a game played at our 'transition shower'. But, try as I might I cannot recall it happening. In fact, I don't ever remember seeing these cards before. Not once. Not even to tuck them into Emma's journal.

Perhaps I was too busy emotionally letting go of one to welcome another. Even still. *sigh*

Here are a few more for you to enjoy before you check out what the rest of the class is sharing.

Charismatic, Lovely, Autonomous, Ingenious, Rare, Everything you want to be... (Auntie D)

Caressable, Lullabyable, Adorable, Irresistible, Rejoiceable, Embraceable (from Papa)

Cuddly, Lovable, Apple of my Eye, Inquisitive, Rambunctious, Energetic (from Nana)

She is all this, and more - much, much more and we were just guessing, really. So, here's one for you Emma.

Empathetic

Mild

Mama's Girl

Alluring

What does your name stand for? Your baby's name? Has your personality acronym shifted, before and after IF, before and after loss?