January 3 was supposed to be a hard day. I had prepared to wake up with the weight of the world on my chest and to spend the morning in bed. I had prepared to spend the hours and minutes of my day mourning the child that was lost.
Instead I did none of these things. In fact, I’m horrified to admit that I did not even realize what day it was. It did not occur to me until this morning that I had missed Pip’s due date without shedding a single tear.
I feel like a monster for this. I have read countless posts by women mourning their lost child annually on their due date and had expected to be one of them. Lord knows I had a hard enough time with the loss over the past 8 months. Instead January 3 came and went while I was in California. I took an amazing hike with the Professor. I prepared a killer meal as a thank you gift to our hosts. I talked. I laughed. I visited the Chicken with the doppler.
I do think about Pip still. This year we purchased three new ornaments for our Christmas tree: a tiny hand-made graduation mouse for the Professor and two lovely birds, one bright chicken for our Chicken and one soft cherub bird for Pip. On Christmas we intended to hike at Shaker Village, the place I walked on my Walk to Remember and where I choose to “let Pip go.” I had wanted to visit my angel baby among the trees and birds. Unfortunately the trails were closed on holiday and we ended up walking through the Arboretum instead.
Since then, though, I have not mourned. I have not wailed. I don’t understand how such an important day could come and go completely unnoticed. Honestly, it leaves me feeling a little disgusted with myself. Too harsh? Perhaps, but it’s how I feel none-the-less.