On Oct 2, 2012, Scott and I went on a mini-vacation in LA. We stayed in a fancy suite that week (thanks, AmEx points!) and saw one of our favorite bands play, The Shins. I was wearing my favorite dress, I had one of the best dinners, and it was one of our best dates. We made plans, we looked toward the future. I'll even say it was one of the best days of my life.
One year later, Oct. 2, 2013, I gave birth to the cutest (seriously, the cutest!!) boy. Before we drove to the hospital, I checked his seat to make sure he'll be comfortable when he came home. I woke up that Monday, and I remember tweeting a gif of Oprah with a digitally loud "HAPPY MONDAY!" It was a happy Monday. I was going to meet Max! Finally! No more heartburn, no more cankles, no more pelvic crushing pain! My gosh, that baby was so adorably fat. I went to the hospital and the day quickly transformed from remembering it as one of the best days of my life to the worst day. I didn't get my prize at the end. Driving home, I kept looking back at his empty seat.
I thought one year later, I would write something thoughtful to remember him by. But I don't need a blog post to do that, he's with me everyday. Child loss is an awful experience and I found glimmers of light and hope in it, I hold on to it like I could hold on to him, and have never let it go. I can't believe I'm saying this, but looking back now, Oct 2 still holds a special place as one of the best days of my life, even if it didn't go my way. I got to see Max with the promise I'll meet him again one day. Happy birthday, Max. We'll celebrate together in no time.