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Craig and I both celebrated birthdays this last week. As did Jet. It would have been Jet's first birthday. It was 42 for both Craig and me.
Birthdays are never happy for me any more. They are nothing to celebrate. Birthdays for our children are of course only sad. Birthdays for me only serve to remind me of the fact that I'm getting older. And that my children are still dead. And that, should I choose to have another child, it will only become more difficult, and (if it was possible) riskier. If we choose to adopt, we are already too old to be eligible to adopt a baby.
Aging is worrying me, yet I would be so happy to see one (or all) of my children aging.
In a word, birthdays suck.
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I overheard some conversations recently. One on a bus, and one in a supermarket.
Craig and I were on the bus, when four young women (all in their twenties) were having a full-on discussion about giving birth. In all its details. And here in the Netherlands, many women give birth at home. This is not unusual. Rather, planning a hospital birth is unusual.
Anyway, after listening to this loud and rather full-on conversation about home births (four women with at least four stories), I made Craig get off the bus, so that we could get on to another one.
Then a few days later, we were in our local supermarket. There were two women, probably in their late 30's or early 40's (one with a young child in her trolley), discussing pregnancy and getting pregnant. Saying how difficult it was to get pregnant when you are older. Talking about IVF, etc. One said that although her partner wanted a child, she wasn't really fussed because she already had children.
I found these conversations quiet hurtful. Offensive really. Are these really suitable conversations for public places? I would think not. Of course the Dutch think that they can talk about anything anywhere, and if I were even to suggest to them that they keep these topics for somewhere more private, they would just tell me to piss off.
But it doesn't even occur to these women that their conversations may be hurtful to others around them. Those who have lost children. Those who have infertility issues. Those who have multiple miscarriages. Many people.
Maybe I'm too sensitive. But I'm glad I got off that bus.
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We were away in the UK for the last few weeks. We spent our birthdays in Norfolk. Very beautiful part of that country. We spent Jet's birthday in Warwickshire. Met up with some friends and had some fun times.
Today we collect our cat Blair from his vacation home.
Today we remember the day that Jet left us, a year ago today.
4 comments:
hey Mirne
belated happy birthday to you and Craig, for what it's worth, i get what you say about birthdays no longer being the happy day event when they mark so much pain and sadness.
I'm thinking of Jet and Kees and Freyja with you. Fuck the people on the bus and talking, I look at them and find them ignorant, at times incredibly narrow minded and in that blissfully unaware. Good for them and then I walk away or get off the bus if I can't block them out in my head. We can't change the world nor educate it's inhabitants. I stopped trying.
Here is to you and Craig and the tight bond between you, that you get off the bus together because you are there for each other.
And here is to Jet, a child loved so much, a child gone. We miss you, little man, forever.
xxoo Ines
My love to you today , tomorrow adn always you kow that honey , much love and many , many hugs XXX
Thinking of you and Craig and sweet Jet.
I thought of you the other day as September rolled it's way onto the calendar and into my heart. I thought of Jet and how he is a September baby. I hold so many little September babies in my heart. Each leaf that drops holds special meaning. Every tree which slowly fades from green to yellow to orange to crimson whispers to me. September is magical and sad all at once.
I can't believe it has been a year since your sweet little son Jet was born and died.
(((((hugs)))))
and so much love to you - across the ocean and through the screen.
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