The clock struck midnight and thus began what I truly hope to be my favorite year. It definitely has to be more of my favorite than 2010 was because 2010 sucked almost as much as 2009 did…right? Of course I’m right. It’s my warm, fuzzy, optimistic logic and I am going to run with it.
But first I must toast the year with this glass of champagne. The day goes on with lots of cuddling and snuggling under warm, fuzzy blankets watching old movies with my boys. I can’t imagine a better way to begin this year…can you?
Only a day has passed and yet I can’t help but feel optimistic. I always begin it that way. Everything is fresh, shiny and new. Of course there will be mud and muck, scratches and dings that will mar my shiny, new year, but for now I can’t help but enjoy the freshness of it all with the promise of good things to come.
But back to reality…
Today was spent with Holly…in the ER.
Just last week, Holly announced the happy news that she and Ben were expecting, that Hazel would be a big sister.
Good things are coming in 2011.
But early this morning sudden intense pain, bleeding, an ultrasound and blood-work, as well as the brusque, matter of fact pronouncement by the female ER attending, declared that this little bit of happiness was not meant to be for the summer of 2011. My heart aches for Holly. I’ve been in this position not once, not twice, but three times. It never was easy but it certainly was made all the more painful with a callous, “these-things-happen-sometimes” attitude. The idea that a female practitioner is so much better in times like this is such bullshit. This particular ER doc announced the news to Holly in the same manner she might have confirmed that she had strep throat or perhaps a sprained ankle.
Yes, these things do happen.
Unfortunately, loss is a big part of life, life in what I hoped to be my favorite year.
We left the ER with our daughter, sharing hugs and tears and made plans for Hazel for the next day so Holly could rest and recuperate a little before we headed back home to the Big Top where I crawled back under the warm fuzzy blankets, watched one of my favorite movies ever and cried…for my baby girl…for her angel baby…for my four angel babies.
Two days down, only three hundred and sixty three to go.