Time

It has been a long, long time.

It's late here. M and Bee are sound asleep, and I've been up late studying. I started nursing school last month. It's ok. A lot of typical first-year hoop jumping, lots of busywork- quizzes worth next to nothing, group projects and the like. The material is interesting but shallow at this point- lots of introductory courses. The meat comes later.

Death has come up often. We have addressed the topic of how to handle a dying client. We have discussed pastoral care and referrals and the importance of learning to sit quietly and hold a patient's hand. There was even one entire power point slide on "when an infant dies". We were told in a sentence or two about mementos and helping the family say goodbye.

There is so much I can comment on, so many things I could add to the conversation. So much experience I've gained in my short life. More than I wish I had. I tend to stay quiet.

I am known to my class as a mom to an almost-one-year old baby boy. They know I had a complicated pregnancy; I have often offered hospital anecdotes in class. I have not shared about Charlotte.

***

How many lives do you live anyway? It certainly seems more than one, at least for me. The last two and a half years have been an entirely different lifetime than the years before. Everything, absolutely everything, changed. I kind of like the new me- I owe so much of my current personality to my sweet baby girl- and it's so hard to remember the old Heather. It's hard to remember much of anything, really, even still.

I was on GITW tonight, for the first time in a long time. I was scrolling down the page and the links to past posts were on the left, organized monthly, like they are on all blogs. The months scrolled by, and there were so many of them. You see, GITW was launched in Charlotte's month. I found it a few weeks later, and have followed ever since. All those months. I have been changed for all of those months. It is a long time. An entire new generation of dbm's are posting now. There are new members to our club, all the time. Still.

***

Adam turns one next week. He's happy and well-adjusted. He's learning to walk; he can take two steps. He's a beautiful little boy. Really is. I love him so and I still miss his sister. I want them both, but can't have it that way.

It's such a long road. It never really ends.