It is interesting to me the similarities that I have encountered with these seemingly very different life events. As they are preparing for life with a baby, we are preparing for life without.
But we both have received meatloafs. And chicken casseroles from friends. Both of our families receive cards. And the thoughts from many.
They picked out a going home from the hospital outfit. I picked an outfit for burial.
Both of our families are struggling with sleep. They don't sleep because the baby cries. I don't sleep because I cry. And routines. They are establishing routines while I am fighting against a routine. Because routine means that the world continues to spin.
They measure their little one's age in weeks. I measure my loss in weeks. And soon those will turn to months. And then years with half years sprinkled in to measure time.
They will document firsts. I struggle through firsts. And lasts. And then will struggle when firsts become seconds. They will lament the fact that time goes by quickly. That their baby is growing up. I will agree with them. That time goes by quickly. They will wish for time to stand still ... for their little one to stop growing. I will agree. And wish for time to reverse. To get my baby back. And to treasure each moment. To document it so that I don't forget even the tiniest of detail.
They look forward. I look back.
They think of what will be. I think of what could have been.