18 years, November 8th 1994, ago I was in the hospital, in labor for the 2nd straight day, awaiting the arrival of my first biological child (I already had 2 stepdaughters). We had no idea if "it" was a boy or a girl. And had to wait 3 hours into the next day before we would find out. I often over the past 18 years have revisited the three days I was in labor. Remembering each step, how I felt, what we did (mostly stayed in bed with the darn monitor attached) and how we felt thinking we had our whole lives in front of us with this new life!
6 years ago,11/8/06, little did I know that I would be spending my last "normal" day. The last day that everything in my life was "normal" and perfect or at least close to it. By then we had not only child 1 that we were anxiously awaiting 12 years early, but child 2, a pleasant surprise who arrived 3 years and 3 months after his sister. But on that day in 2006 I had no idea that our world would be shattered. It was just "another day".
There are so many days I can remember just what happened. The day in 1994 when I was in labor. I remember in detail when they started the pitocin, when my water broke, when I got my epidural, when we went into distress, and out if it, repeatedly, when they thought they had to do an emergency C section (they didn't), Dave calling my parents, his mom, all who were waiting. And of course I can remember the next day. When Emily finally decided to make her appearance. The strain of 3 long hours of pushing (starting right at midnight), her slightly frightening arrival ( she was breathing but not crying and her cord was wrapped x3 , and at 42 weeks and almost 9 lbs she needed a little extra TLC before we could see her). I remember the day I was in labor with and gave birth to her brother (blessedly he came in 12 hours, vs the 50 plus we waited for her). I remember my younger step daughters wedding. What we did, wore, ate, danced etc etc.
I remember all the "bad" days associated with Dave's illness. The day we found out (Emily's 12 th birthday), the first day of testing and his bone marrow biopsy, sans anesthesia in the office. His stem cell. His relapse. The day he almost died. And of course every day of the last 5 of his life. Down to every conversation with every family member and every doctor. Ending with my conversation when I had to tell Emily and David that their Dad had died.
But I don't remember the last day of "normal". Oh sure I remember him. And I remember his life. And lots of events. Lots of habits, idiosyncrasies. The way he did things. How he said different words. What we did for fun as a family. How he coached his team. I remember countless games. Trips to see his mom and aunt, dinners at my folks. But not whole days that were just "regular". Sometimes it bothers me that I don't remember that "last day". I want to go back and feel what it was like to just live. To not worry (tho knowing me I was worried about something), to not be constantly afraid, constantly looking ahead. But i don't remember a whole day like that. Was I just taking my life for granted? Not grateful enough for what I had? I don't know. But I do know that I desperately wish I could remember.
Instead I remember the next day. 18 years ago it was the day my daughter finally arrived. 6 years it ago it was the day we "found out". We had just returned home from a birthday day with my parents. I found pictures of that day not too long ago. Typical. Emily. Emily and David. Emily and my parents. None of me. None of Dave. How sad. It would have been the last picture of him healthy. Only he wasn't. He was dying and we didn't know. Sometimes I wonder if I had pictures would I look back and see what I might have missed. And I am sure I would. I would kick myself for "missing" something. So maybe it is for the best. We had gotten home around 8:30. The phone rang. Emily answered the phone. A very grown up Emily. I remember her saying, yes, who is calling please:.. She handed the phone to Dave and said Daddy, it's your doctor. It can't be good. Doctors don't call you at night when everything is okay.
We hadn't even suspected anything. Nose bleeds, high blood pressure. the blood tests had mainly been for cholesterol. All the "usual" stuff when you have high blood pressure. The doctor saying, I know why you are bleeding and tired. YOur platelets and red cells are very low. You need to see the oncologist. but we have talked and we are sure you have mulitple myeloma. Call in the morning to make an appt with the oncologist.
So I remember. But I don't remember "normal". I wish I could go back and live one day in "normal", one day where I truly appreciate EVERYTHING and remember every moment of what it is, just to "live".
