September

I am reminded every September that I lead a particularly charmed life. I am not traditionally religious. I am not particularly moved by the concepts of fate and destiny. Karma, there is a sentiment I can get behind. Generally, I am fairly low-key, unflappable, and one who believes you generally get what you give.

Life is. It just is.

Sometimes there is no explanation for the unbelievably amazing gifts you receive just as there is none for the torturous difficult situations you will be given no choice but to endure.

If there is one thing that I do believe to the core of my being, it is that you just keep going. Quitting is never an option. Crying is fine, but you must keep moving forward.

It is always in September when I am most vividly reminded of these sentiments. I have been quiet for a while now. Sometimes I fear documenting the joy will tempt fate. Maybe I do believe in fate after all. Other times, I am just too busy living to slow down and capture the moments.

I remember September 18th. I remember it was 8:35 in the morning. I remember a black and white image that, to me an untrained eye, looked so perfect. I remember a head, a brain, a spine, hands, feet, and toes. I remember the silence falling, and the ultrasound technician stepping out of the room. I remember the moment it dawned on me that something was very, very wrong. I remember the look on my husband's face as it dawned on him. I remember the doctor who came into the room to deliver the news, apparently above the ultrasound tech's paygrade. I remember hearing the word "Catastrophic." I remember going numb. I remember "less than 5% chance of survival." I remember two procedures, one with no sedation. Dozens of ultrasounds. Weeks and months of waiting. I remember feeling like I was holding my breath. I don't remember being angry, I just remember being terrified.

So this is what we say to SEPTEMBER....


We all have moments in life that define us. This will forever be one of mine. For many people that day is September 11th. And yes, September 11th will forever be imprinted in my brain. The sounds, the smells, the sights. September 18th is mine. I am unable to comprehend the pain and struggle of those who do not have the happy ending that we were so lucky to have.

Sometimes, I think I am still waiting to exhale, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Thank you universe for giving me my little guy, Max, when it could have gone oh so differently. There is not a single day of my life that I am not grateful for my two healthy and thriving children. I wonder if the day, or the month even, will ever be more muted for me, less of an intense emotional time. Bittersweet, remembering the life altering fear and also knowing of the life altering sweetness that is my little boy.



I mean really, can anyone imagine a world without this face?