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Friday’s child

October 24, 2008

According to the rhyme, Friday’s child is loving and giving,” unless, as Wikipedia tells me, you are reading the older version, in which case “Friday’s child is full of woe. Frankly, I think that my own Friday’s child would have been a holy terror, stubborn as his mom and tough and precocious as his dad. The killer, of course, is that we don’t get to know.

On this Friday, I’m just so tired.  I miss our Teddy and I miss the person I used to be before we lost him.  I think it is on Fridays that I feel farthest removed from the energy and assurance of my lost past self.

I want to celebrate him at least a little on this day, but is hard to do at the end of a long week (right now, they are all long; that’s just the way it is).  On Fridays I realize that I’ve been holding on by the skin of my teeth for five days in order to be at work and get things done and that the effort has taken more out of me than I knew.  Part of what this exhaustion does is that my mama-animal-mind cannot be silenced or calmed by my intellect and the pounding refrain of “I want him back” returns.

After the second day of my induction (a Thursday), we knew that Teddy would be born on a Friday, and this thought gave me hope and made me smile.  Friday is the favorite day of Erica-who-was, the culmination of the work week and the beginning of respite. Now Friday is the day they found that bit of muconium in the amniotic fluid, the day of internal probes (which really should have come after the epidural), the day of fever, oxygen, panic, hope, and then of failing hope.  It is a hard day.

But, reading this amazing post over at glow in the woods reminds me that the Friday Teddy came into the world is also a day when I found myself immersed in depths of love the like of which I’d not even imagined.  It is hard, hard, to think of this entire experience as a gift – I balk against it even though it makes me uncomfortable in a way that tells me I need to think about it.  For now I will settle on knowing that meeting Theodore, seeing him for the first time – that was undeniably a gift.

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One comment

  1. You wrote it too: “The biggest surprise? Seeing the top of my baby’s head from the hospital bed, feeling him grasp my finger in his small hand, knowing that we had chosen the right name and that he was Teddy, all the while being flooded with more love and hope than I ever knew could exist in one person. I loved him when he was inside me, but I never knew how much I loved him until I saw him. Surprise.”

    Love



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