Abby Day

It came and went.  January 26.  The day that will forever be associated with the day the bottom fell out of my life.  The day that I changed forever.  The day that everything changed.

Her birthday?  Her deathday?  What do you call it?  I simply decided that it’s Abby Day.  And what were we supposed to do?  C said to me on Thursday, we should “do” something.. go out for dinner or something.  And I said.. that feels like we’re celebrating.. and I’m pretty sure we’re not.  There was no cemetary to visit — she sits in a heart-shaped urn on our dresser.  There’s no river or park or woods or anything where ashes are spread — because I can’t bring myself to do anything with them — because then I wouldn’t have the only thing I have left of her.  And it’s January so it’s fucking cold outside!!  I don’t need to freeze my ass off wandering through some outdoor frozen-ness reflecting.  And her garden is still only a tree… and it’s January.

So, I cried for her.  I cried for how much I miss her and I cried for a life that never was.  And as always, I cried for us and the sadness that infertility causes — the fear.  Because it’s all tangled up together — the grief and the infertility — I feel bad that I can’t separate it but it’s all in one big, sad, ball of mess.  I wondered, briefly, if it would feel different if there was a sibling to help fill the void in my heart.. instead of just the scar tissue of failure that fills it currently.  For an even briefer second, I allowed my brain to wonder what it would be like if there’s never another child to love.  But I can’t stay there for very long… I just can’t.

And when I was done crying, we went on about our day.  Without saying what it was, we just decided to do something to distract us from the sadness of the day.  What says “I’m grieving my baby” better than a little movie about torture and capturing a terrorist in the Middle East?!  We had some lunch, watched the movie, shopped, had some Star.bucks and came home.  And then I scrapbooked.  And then somehow the day was over and the sun rose on the 27th.  And just like that, Abby Day was over.


18 responses to “Abby Day

  • Devon

    My heart aches for you. I cannot imagine the pain you are feeling, but please know you are in my thoughts and prayers.
    Devon (@dmb07)

  • Moni

    That empty ache never goes away… {HUGS}

  • Sadie

    I thought of you and Abby a great deal on Saturday. She is so loved and missed.

    I had that struggle too, thinking about what to call that day…’birthday’ seems so cruelly wrong somehow. So like you, we finally settled on a special day named for my son. We don’t celebrate it on his death/birth day, but we do celebrate, usually with a childish kind of activity that we’d love to be doing with him, and we think he’d like (he’d be two now. It boggles the mind). It’s bittersweet for us, but it brings some comfort.

    I hope over time you find a comforting way of marking the day in whatever way feels right, even if that’s going about your usual routine with Abby close to your heart (as I know she is every day). Sending hugs.

  • marwil

    I like what you call the day, it is after all her day, and that is something special. But how I wish it was her real birthday to celebrate. Doesn’t feel quite right to use that word to me either, not now, when it went so terribly wrong. It must be hard to do something with her urn, to spread it somewhere. It will come in time what to do, maybe when it gets warmer. Sending you hugs across the ocean.

  • psychsarah

    Was thinking of you lots and lots on Saturday. “Abby Day” is so apropos-that’s how I’ll always think of Jan 26 now.

  • sb

    I didn’t know the date off by heart, but for some reason I was thinking of you a lot this weekend. Guess deep in my brain I knew. Big hugs of support to the both of you.

  • Alissa

    I call it the Angelversary. It’s a day to both mourn and celebrate. Your angel was here and was loved – that should be recognized.
    I’m sorry you couldn’t figure out what to do, it’s hard to decide when you are trying to honor someone no longer here. I think taking time to think of Abby was enough. She knows you miss her and your love for her shines bright. Hang in there and know this isn’t the end.

  • Aramis

    I know it’s not close to the same, but I lost a best friend suddenly a few years ago. For a while on the anniversary of her death, I wrote her letters telling her about what had been going on that year and how much I wished she was there to share these events with me. It helped focus all those unsettled feelings a bit. I have no idea if that would help you at all. Anyway, just wanted to say how sorry I am that this happened to your family and wish you the best.

  • Heather

    Lots of love and hugs to you and C and Abby

  • Heather

    Lots of love and hugs to you and C and Abby

  • mypreconceivedlife

    Glad you made it through the day lady. I haven’t experienced a loss like yours, but I can tell you that the anniversary of my sister’s death is always sad, but the sadness has softened over the years. I hope the same happens for you and your husband. And, like Sadie, I believe that Abby is close to your heart always. xo

  • Daryl

    Sending you hugs. I know Abby is close to your heart every single day.

  • Life

    I’ve been thinking of you lots since I first read your post. I love that you called it Abby day.
    On the 31st it will also be 1 year for us since our beautiful little boy went to heaven….. I have two living children who will help me get through that day. We will not celebrate. But we will remember him by doing something together. Right now I’m dreading that day….. But I’ve gotten through the last year, so I will also be able to get through the 31st.
    You are a strong person and you have also gotten through Abby Day. As you have gotten through the past year and will also continue getting through every day. And I just know that one day you will have that baby in your arms….

  • Anna

    We do the same thing – we just call it His Day. And we felt the same – we just didn’t know what to do on that day. Besides cry.

  • sifinalaska

    I hate that you have to have an Abby day… I’m so sorry you have to grieve her loss.

  • kastreet

    “Abby Day” I like that. My husband and I have been so conflicted as to what to celebrate for our daughters. Their birth? It was such a sad day, to know that we lost them (even though it wasn’t the same day). We wanted to celebrate their life (no matter how short lived they were). We shall now have “Willow & Hazel’s day.” Thank you.

  • gradualchanges

    Just found your blog through Stirrup Queens friday roundup – I’m very sorry for your loss. I too lost a 2nd trimester pregnancy last year and I feel your pain. I also struggled with what to do on the day of my boys’ birth/death. But I don’t think there is any “right” way to observe the occasion. I’m glad you were able to take the time you needed that day to do what felt right for you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: