Sunday, April 1, 2012

Oh, baby...some rambling thoughts

For the first time in my life, I'm seriously thinking about babies.  Not just because it seems like most of my friends have either had a baby or gotten pregnant in the last 12 months -- though that certainly reminds me that the window of opportunity is finite, and that I can see that window closing with each year that passes.  My best friends from grade school, high school, college, and law school all have babies now, or ones on the way.  I'm 31, so it makes sense that people are starting now.  Knowing that the risk of complications (as well as difficulty conceiving) go up significantly after age 35, there isn't a lot of time left to for two pregnancies, considering that many people need some time to try, then carry and deliver, then physically/emotionally/financially recover a bit between children. 

Brian would have been a great father.  "Antonio" will be too.  I hope I'll be as good a parent as either of them.  I look forward to trying and learning through the experience with Antonio.  He is someone who inspires me to be a better person, which I think will carry over into parenting extremely well.  Still, that will have to wait.  We aren't married yet, and I am forging a new career.  I don't know exactly when, but it is at least on the horizon, and something I am actually longing for.

In the meantime, I have nieces and the children of friends to dote on and spoil.  A lot of these babes were born after Brian died.  Two and a half years ago, we loved hanging out with Kristine & Bobby, playing video games while we enjoyed wine, beer and the latest in party hors d'oeuvres. I miss that time together, the four of us.  Now, he's dead, I'm in Texas living with a boyfriend and starting a new career, and they have changed jobs and had a baby girl nearly six months ago.  She just took the baby to visit Brian's grave. They left her rattle behind for him as a memento of the visit. I feel glad that she will grow up hearing his name spoken, knowing that he existed and was loved dearly. I wonder how I will handle the topic with my own children. How do children understand death?

It's odd -- everyone's lives went on after he died.   Cognitively, that makes sense.  I must admit, my life went on, so of course everyone else's did too.  But it's weird to think that life itself marches on -- people are born, people die, people move, people change jobs, people marry, people divorce.  All without Brian.  The world doesn't have him now. Babies that were born in 2010 or later won't ever know him.  It's bizarre to me, and cements the permanancy of our loss.  Not only do I have to live the rest of my life without him, but there are people who will never have the privilege to know him, to hear his voice or his laugh, to feel special the way he made everyone feel. 

When I have children, they will be people who never would have existed but for Brian's death.  And the children we might have together never got to be born because of his death.  What did the world miss out on?  What will it get?  What will my children be like?

It's all connected.  The impact of Brian's life, and his death, spreads far and wide.  The world will be different for both.  And I'm in the middle of this sea of change and uncertainty, just riding it out and trying to figure out where to go from here.  There must be some reason for it all.  For the time being, I just know that I still cry, I still miss him, and sometimes I just have to write.  I have to reach out and help people with what I know, and sometimes I have to reach out for help myself.  And, someday, I have to have children.   


  1. Dear Wendy
    Follow your parents and your sister to Punta Cana this summer and make your dream come true! ...but don't forget to take Antonio with you! ;-)

  2. Law school is stressful enough. Finding a job shouldn’t make it worse. I work with JD Match, a company striving to add some much needed sanity to the recruiting process. Using a sophisticated matching algorithm, they can help you be discovered by employers looking for what you have to offer. Visit their site to see how it works, sign up for a free membership, and get some control over the recruitment process.

  3. Wendy you will make the best Mom!

  4. I found your blog while searching for "widow rebuilding life" on Google. My husband, Jim, died 3 weeks ago at the age of 41. I've felt a lot of the things you're saying, about it being so strange to see life going on. I'm very early in this journey, but I'm trying to figure out how to rebuild my life and start over again. I'm not sure where I'm going yet or what I'll be doing...I'm just trying to have hope that it will be good for both myself and my 5 year old daughter.

  5. Sheri,
    I'm so sorry for your loss. I can only hope that reading what I've gone through, and other resources (other blogs,, books, grief counseling, etc.) can help ease your burden and make you feel like you are not walking this path alone -- because you're not...and the path can lead to good places, and there will be beauty in the world around you, even if there are days you can't see it. My heart goes out to you, and you and your daughter will be in my prayers.