A Tough Week

So I write about my tough week not for pity or condolences so much as to just mark this moment in time when things were tough so that when they're better, I'll know that I've gotten through it.

So the first rough thing:

David and I planned a cruise for our babymoon and thought it would be great to tack it on before Christmas so we'd have a nice long time off to celebrate and prepare. I knew that it said that we should be 24 weeks, but I thought this was a suggestion, just like avoid scary rides if you're a nervous person. I figured a doctor's note attesting to my wellness would be enough. Sadly though, when I finished our check-in there was a disclaimer that said, no persons pregnant more than 24 weeks will be permitted to board. I would have been 27 weeks at the time so I checked in with my travel agent. Long story short, no exceptions are made. It's not a guideline but a rule and we would not be able to take our cruise.

The sad part is that our two options are 1) Cancel and lose our flights and 50% of our cruise costs or 2) Postpone and pay $420 to reschedule our flights. Both are things that we didn't really have in the budget and neither give us a babymoon.

I was really looking forward to the sun and relaxation and spending some time with just David before our life becomes completely different. And to feel warm

So we're likely going to postpone and try again next year. If we want to take Baby Bean then we have to wait until she is at least 6 months old and while travelling with a baby takes some of the excitement out of it (no more snorkelling or scuba), I really can't imagine myself leaving her behind either (weaning her at 6 months isn't really part of the plan)

So that was sad and stressful and exhausting. It seemed like every option or exception I tried to pursue was a roadblock. And I just had to come to acceptance that it wasn't going to happen.

And then the second rough thing:

Last night my grandpa passed away. I knew that he was unwell and David and I were going to be sure to visit at Christmas. However, he was in a lot of pain (both physically and I think emotionally) and the cancer really had taken its toll. I am relieved that he's no longer feeling that pain, but it's sad to think that it will be a long time before I get one of his hugs again. For a man that wasn't that sentimental, his hugs were pretty enveloping.

It's been really good to be distracted with work or book club or a baby event I'm going to tonight, but in the quiet moments he's there and I find myself going through my memories of him. Interestingly they are memories of the strangest things like what his slippers looked like or the sound of his whistle. Not so much stories or events but impressions and feelings. Tidbits that will wash over me like waves, frequently at first and then dwindling with time but never really stopping.

In a situation like this, I am really grateful for my faith and the hope that comes from that belief. I'm still processing and worried about my grandma and how she is dealing. I'm worried for my mom (and her siblings) who have lost their father and as they navigate this final chapter in their relationship with him. I'm worried for his siblings who have lost a brother. I'm hoping they are feeling comforted by their families but grief is such a personal and complicated process that it's hard, sometimes, to feel comforted even when everyone is saying and doing the right thing.

I'm grateful that I have the good memories and that my most recent memories are of him being well and generally being himself. I'm cautious because I've never grieved a family member before so I don't know what my own grief process will look like. I'm trying not to be too surprised by my feelings or my first thoughts and I'm trying not to judge myself too harshly for not being perfect in these moments.

What I really want is for my family to come together; to circle the wagons and support each other as we help each figure out what this event means to us - as we work through our own conflicting feelings. But we're spread out and that's part of the grief too - to not be able to be where you want to be.



Mostly, it's been a tough week and I'm not really sure how I'm coping. I find the pregnancy zaps my coping skills and yet I am. I'm trying hard to neither repress nor indulge my feelings too much in any way and to just mindfully watch them happen. I certainly feel overwhelmed and unsure and inadequate. But at the same time I not sure I expected anything different either.

This is the rawness of life: the intensity that punches you in the stomach as it cradles you in its arms. Sometimes I don't feel like I'm cut out for the intensity and I wish that I felt less or that the spectrum of my emotions was smaller so it was more like a ripple than a tidal wave. But then I wouldn't be me either.

So if you like, say a little prayer for strength and resilience and be sure to hug those you love.