Yesterday I slept all day. Well, very nearly. I was just plum tuckered out!
So today I’m offering up a Little Bit of Fiction. Hope you like it.
We made mac and cheese and scoured the kitchen for a paper plate, not wanting to wash a dish. There were a few left in the picnic basket and so we loaded them up and found our way to the living room. We threw ourselves on the sofa and simultaneously emitted long, deep sighs, whether of relief or grief, neither of us could say.
The day before, we had enjoyed a picnic with the kids and visited the zoo. We watched them squeal and screech over the animals. Jess, at 6, was smitten with the tiger kittens. Annabelle, almost 4 now, wouldn’t leave the monkey habitat. We walked and ate snow cones and cotton candy and walked some more. We laughed and played and rode the train through the park, giggling and tickling, singing songs, reciting poetry.
If you looked too closely you would notice the lines of grief that were etched into our faces. If you listened you would hear the strain in our laughter. Somehow we managed to entertain our grandchildren without their knowing.
It might have been a perfect day.
What might have been?
We managed to keep them entertained and happy. We brought them home and snuggled and read stories and played games.
She called and told us she was fine. Everything was fine.
We tucked our beautiful grandchildren into bed and sat immobile in the dark for a bit before sleeping fitfully for a few hours.
We made pancakes and dressed and shopped for a bit. New toys are customary on a Grandma visit. We stopped for luncheon burgers.
We took them home, hugged their father. Visited with their mother, our daughter, for a very few minutes. She was so brave.
At 23 weeks, the obstetrician told her that the fetus was unlikely to survive for more than a year and that year would be a living hell for the entire family. There would be no quality of life for any of them. And so she bravely terminated the pregnancy yesterday.
We grieve for that which we lost. We know it was the right decision.