January 25 marks four years. Four years since we were told by the high-risk clinic that we couldn't come in for an ultrasound because "it would provide no useful information." Four years since we called our fertility clinic and they got us in right away. Four years since we had an ultrasound and discovered that Tittle's heart was no longer beating.
On Monday I went to see Frozen. There really weren't any movies that I desperately wanted to see, so I opted for a kid's movie. Like last year, I was sneaky like Tittle and sneaked candy in to eat during the movie. The movie itself was good and cute, but it really wasn't the best movie to watch on that day, considering the decision Jon and I had to make. I guess it was apt that the movie was about siblings, but it just made me so sad that Gus may never have a living sibling.
So, other than sneaking the candy in it didn't really feel like a Tittle day. And I certainly wasn't looking forward to Saturday. This is the first year that Tittle's day is on a weekend, so I can't just take off work and spend the day by myself, doing whatever I want without considering Jon and Gus. It seems selfish, but I always thought of Tittle's day as MY day. My day to do what I wanted to honor him. It took Jon some time before he bonded with Tittle, to the point that he couldn't understand why I wasn't smiling in the tummy pictures we were taking to document our pregnancy. Jon didn't understand that I was grieving our third child. So, when it comes to honoring Tittle on his day, I think I'm affected in a deeper and different way than Jon.
After discussing with Jon, we've decided that we are going out to dinner
to a place that we think Tittle would like. On the menu are
dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. At the restaurant they have booths in
the middle of the restaurant that can be entered from either side. I
have such a clear image of a little boy playing with his dinosaur,
sneaking out one side, running around to the other side and surprising
Jon with a huge roar. So, we will go to that restaurant, Jon, Gus and I.
I will be a little saddened if Gus doesn't order the dinosaurs, but
know that Gus is not Tittle and they wouldn't necessarily order the same
foods. I will sit, likely at a table, and look over at the booths in
the middle. Imagining if Tittle were here and how we would laugh when he
Additionally, I've put on facebook a request for our friends: Tomorrow
marks four years since we discovered that our Tittle’s heart had
stopped beating. In honor of our sneaky son, please do something sneaky,
surprising or unexpected tomorrow and share with us what you did.
I hope that many of our friends do something to remember Tittle, but to also have fun with it. If any positive can come from the death of Tittle, I want it to be that for a brief moment people's hearts can be filled with love, lightness and laughter.