August

 Well it’s that time again.

August.

The time where my emotions go all over the place.

It’s been 19 years so you would think that I would get used to August rolling around every 365 days but for some reason the calendar gets me every time.

I love summer.

I love the sunshine and the beach and the relaxation. I love lobster rolls and ice cream cones. Other than mosquitos there’s very little I don’t love.

Not to mention both my boys were born in summer.

But summer also reminds me that I was in a hospital for 6 1/2 weeks trying to keep my twin boys safe.

It reminds me of really scary and quite frankly, shitty times.

It reminds me of daily scares, my husband needing to visit me, my Mom sitting with me during the afternoons, nurses I grew to love, and it reminds me at one time I had twin boys growing inside of me.

On a frightening morning of August 7, 2003 15 or so nurses and doctors ran into my hospital room bathroom because they had to “pull the emergency cord” in the bathroom. 

There was blood.

So much blood.

I had been bleeding my entire pregnancy but this was not that. They said “call your husband. Today is the day”.

27 weeks and 6 days in utero.

August 7 my twin babies were born.

One screamed.

One didn’t.

One spent 6 months in the NICU.

One spent 8 hours in the NICU.

One is turning years old this week. 

One never got to turn a week old.

Is the pain and grief as torturous as it once was? 

It’s not.

Do I still remember every single day on the hospital for 6 1/2 weeks? 

Do I still remember every hospital visit, appointment, tube and wire, scares and low points of my oldest 19 years? 

Damn right I do.

Because I’m a Mom.

So yes, August brings up some crap memories but it also reminds me of my oldest son who overcame so much to be here. And now he turns 19 next week and is off to college.

I lost my baby boy but I am blessed beyond blessed that I got to watch this one grow up.

So yea, I still love summer.