May 6 . . . International Bereaved Mother's Day. Although I am grateful for the recognition that this provides, I feel anxious about it. What will I do on May 6? Probably not much, because I'll be gearing up to survive the following week . . .
May 13 . . . Mother's Day. I cannot tell you how much the thought of this holiday makes me feel physically sick. I am certain that I will be forgotten, that my motherhood and my daughter's death will not be recognized on this day when I desperately need them to be. I have been grappling with serious identity issues since Eve died, and I feel like this holiday will grind salt into my wounds and mock my questions.
May 20 . . . the six month anniversary of Eve's death. Again, the anticipation of this makes me feel physically sick. I ache for her.
May 27 . . . the one year anniversary of Eve's life. On May 27, 2011, the Best Husband Ever and I found out that we were parents. It seems strange that a year has already cycled from the excitement of that day, bringing with it such a mess of life and death.
May 30 (or so) . . . our rainbow baby's 20 week ultrasound. It is strange -- I am both looking forward to and dreading this ultrasound. I am excited because it will be the first time we get to see our baby looking like a baby, and we will find out for sure if it is a boy (I still think it is!). But it will be so emotionally difficult to see our second child before his birth, knowing what happened to his sister 11 weeks after that gestation's ultrasound. And now, due to my involvement in the babyloss community, I know exactly what kinds of awful things we could find out at 20 weeks. And so, I am a mess.
On top of all that, there are many babyloss friends who will be remembering their lost children's anniversaries birth and death. Sometimes life just feels too hard.
May, will I survive you?