Ronan,
I was not prepared for today. I was not ready for today. But today happened anyway.
It started off pretty normal. A normal checkup at Dr. Schwartz’s office. I didn’t even have to see her. I just had to sit in a chair for a good 45 minutes so Poppy’s heartbeat and movements could be monitored. Just routine stuff that I’m having to do twice a week now.
It’s always quiet in that room, and it’s easy for me to relax and get lost in my thoughts. Today, I thought — of course — about you. I was sitting there listening to your sister’s heartbeat, and she seemed to be moving nonstop the entire time. I know she doesn’t have much room in there, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her movements are strong and never seem to stop.
I had a flashback to that time I was at Sloan with you. We were back in a room, and they had you hooked up to a machine where we had to listen to and track your heart for a couple of hours. I remember being up on the bed with you, holding you and trying to keep you entertained. You soon fell asleep in my arms. The next thing I knew, I was lying there with you, silently crying.
I remember being so overcome with emotion just sitting there listening to your little heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and I knew how lucky I was that it was still beating. We didn’t know at that time that your cancer was spreading, but I was just so grateful for your little beating heart. I hated that you were strapped up to a monitor when you should have been out playing like a normal, healthy 3-year-old, but I found the beauty in that day anyway.
I’ll never forget that day with you. It sticks out in my mind all the time.
Today, listening to your Poppy sister, I was taken right back there, and the tears seemed endless.
I got out of my doctor’s appointment after a couple of hours. They were way behind today, and I came home to a sight I was not ready for.
Your daddy and I have talked for a couple of weeks about taking the furniture out of your room to have it refinished to match Poppy’s crib. I came home to your daddy informing me that the people refinishing your things would be at our house in a few hours to pick everything up. This meant drawers had to be emptied, toys dumped out, clothes moved, stuffed animals pulled out from the storage area under your bed, etc.
Your daddy asked if I could empty out your dresser.
I started crying and simply told him, “No.”
He did it. He did most of it.
By the time the people got to our house, your little room had been completely torn apart, and I could do nothing but sit on the couch and cry. The woman working with us could not have been sweeter. Your daddy had explained our situation to her on the phone, so she understood what was going on. She told me she had some bad luck, too — that she had lost one son at 17 and another as an infant.
I could hardly get two words out. I was trying so hard to control my sobbing. Your daddy was the one who told her he was sorry and did the rest of the talking while I just sat there in a crying trance.
Your little room — which I’m pretty sure I had convinced myself would never be touched — has now been completely taken apart. I know we’re going to put your things back, but that still doesn’t make any of this easier.
I sat in your room for a long time today. On one of your mattresses. I sat on the phone and cried to the couple of people I talked to. Thanks, Meg and Stace. I told them how I was staring at your side of the empty room where your bed once was, and now the only thing left were a few of your Star Wars guys that had clearly fallen off because you always insisted on sleeping with about 50 of them.
I texted with Fernanda for a bit. She’s coming over tomorrow to help me figure out how we’re going to put your room back together while making it Poppy-friendly, too. I am so lucky to have such good friends who are truly there for me at all times. I am so lucky in that regard, and so thankful.
The past couple of days, my emotions have been building. It was your Sparky’s birthday. I remember his birthday from a couple of years ago when we were in New York. You made me take an extra-special picture of you to send to him just for his day. It’s one of my favorite pictures of you, even though your body was marked up with Sharpie from radiation and your little arm was hurting so badly they tried to make you wear it in a sling — which you, of course, refused.
The smile on your face was priceless, and your eyes were so bright and beautiful while I was taking that picture. They were shining like diamonds. You were so excited to send it to him. We called to tell him, “Happy Birthday!” and I remember you saying it in your squeaky little voice that was full of love and happiness.
As always, I did my best not to be sad on his birthday, but I wished more than anything that it was you sitting beside me as I watched your Sparkly open our gift and the two cards — one from me and one from both of us. I, of course, signed your name on the card I picked out from you. You would have liked it and called it “cute.”
I watched your Sparkly read our words and open the gift. I watched him chuckle at something while the corners of his eyes grew wet. It’s a sight I’m so used to seeing with him — that bittersweet happiness I know all too well.
I did my best for him that day, for you, but it was still hard to hold it together without you beside me. I know your Poppy sister will help with things like this when she makes her little entrance into the world. Maybe days like this will become easier. The happiness she brings will be infectious. Next year, it will be nice to have her beside me on your Sparkly’s birthday.
I spent much of today crying. It was a hard day to get through. I literally went to bed telling myself, “You made it through today, and you didn’t die. The pain didn’t kill you.”
I’m always amazed that it doesn’t.
The cruel part is knowing what I’m waking up to tomorrow. None of this goes away. I don’t get to escape it. I still have to wake up to your completely disassembled bedroom — the one I swore I would never touch. I was never going to be ready for today. You can never be ready for something like this.
I’m tired but restless. Of course I’m not sleeping well. Because I’m not sleeping well, I’ve noticed this fucking bird outside our bedroom that sings all day and all night long. I don’t understand it. It only started a couple of months ago. What kind of bird sings all night long?
It’s annoying. I don’t feel like hearing its song.
Tweety bird, tweety bird, please shut up.
Between that and your empty room, I’m surprised I’m not outside stalking this bird with my BB gun. That would have been a very Maya Danger thing to do last year, during my Danger Baby phase. I’ve been stalking the bird from inside the house, trying to figure out where it’s hiding, but my body is too tired to actually investigate.
Stupid bird.
Time to go, little man. It’s late, and I need to try to get some sleep before I have to start today all over again tomorrow.
I miss you.
I love you.
I hope you are safe.
xoxo
P.S. Thank you, Taylor for what you did tonight. You are such a light that keeps me going even on my hardest of days. I know Ronan is so proud of you for all you are doing. So am I. I love you.
Your Happy Birthday Sparkly smile. I love you.
Leave a Reply