Today is Allan's birthday. He would be four years old. He would have energy and personality. He'd be learning to read or already reading, throwing balls, imagining detailed situations (probably involving animal encounters). He would be swimming. A lot, it is so darn hot here in Maryland.
He would be doing a lot more than this, but I never got to know his full personality, so I'm just not sure what exactly would be so very important to him today. I get glimpses from knowing Andrew Dotzour, Evelyn, Sylvia and other kids in our lives. I don't think he would be as sports crazy as Jake and Luke are, but I think he would just love trips to Wisconsin to be with his cousins. I think they would all love riding the go-cart at Nana and Grandpa's, and there would have to be some negotiation about who took the first ride and who rode with whom. And I think they would have collapsed in a monkey pile more often than not after a long day of play. Maiken says Jake still prays for him every night. It breaks my heart to think that Jake has any idea of what our whole family lost four years ago.
But in the intervening four years, our family has also gained so much. I have a closer bond with most of my family members than I ever did before, Schroedls, Thompsons, Kileys, Dotzours and Bablers alike. I remember in great detail ordinary moments of quiet talk and wild play from these past four years for each person in my life. I get less caught up in the daily grind and find it easier to let go completely so I can fully be with my friends and family. And I notice more when I'm not doing that.
And we've gained a whole person: Evelyn Rose Lerner. I feel like my every day and purpose revolves around this one small being. I am either waiting for her to wake up in the morning or being woken by her. I am then spending an hour or more in the morning talking to her, reading to her, playing, eating and running with her. And then I am waiting for the time to come when I will hear her squeal with delight upon seeing me at home, at Fanta's house or in the park. Then there is more play, eating, bath play, reading, snuggling and finally bedtime when I begin waiting for her to wake up again.
Things have changed a lot this past year in how I feel on a daily basis and how I approach my day. I think much less about what Allan would be doing if he were with us. I still get surprised by the things we do that suddenly bring his loss close around me and heavy on my heart. A few weeks ago it was Evelyn's first pony ride. I had dreamed about the day Allan would get to ride a pony. I wanted that so much for him.
I don't often wake up in the night from the nightmare of September 1st, 2006. The day we arrived for a routine ob appointment to find that our baby boy had no heart beat. I don't dream much about that room, the slowly rising panic as it took longer and longer to find his heartbeat. The wait for a second doctor to confirm what the first doctor was too afraid to say to us. I remember every stitch of clothing I was wearing, every step I took, the mug I had filled with a smoothie and brought in the car with us and yet, I don't find myself suddenly back there often at all now. I don't dream anymore of the phone calls we had to make.
But most of all, I feel less bitter and angry. Yes, I can still tap into that when I hit on particular thoughts. The doctor who told us there was no reason to induce even after the due date had passed. The doctor who referred us to the crazy brainwashing of the Bradley method (though the hip lift technique they teach was a real necessity during my two labors). I don't want to throw raw eggs on every car that has a stupid "life is good" sticker anymore.
I was about to say that I feel less afraid. And while that is generally true, there are caveats. I don't wake up every day with a deep pit of stomach-eating fear in me. My hands don't tremble like they used to and I don't think my eyes look so wide and vacant as they did the year after Allan was born. I don't feel completely rigid about how I care for Evie, as if I can keep her safer by holding a ball of tension at the center of myself. But I am quicker to fear for the lives of the people around me. And I am afraid for every pregnant woman, especially friends. Especially friends. I find I can't talk to friends as they approach their baby's due dates. It still hurts me to think of how happy I was at that time in Allan's life. And I am so gripped with fear that something tragic will happen to them. And I don't want to be seen as a doom-sayer.
And then there is the thought of attempting another pregnancy that brings the fear on hard and cold. How could I ever expose Evelyn to such a thing? Not to mention the community of friends and family who have carried us this far. But how could I deny this world the possibility of another person so special as Evie has turned out to be.
Today, we celebrated Allan's birthday by going to eat our breakfast at the zoo with the gorillas, gibbons and siamangs. We also saw the elephants and got to pet a little house wren that was caught in a net at a banding site run by a friend (huge oversimplification of her purpose and project, sorry!). We took a pink flamingo feather as a souvenir from the edge of the flamingo enclosure. Evelyn's face showed such awe and wonder when I handed her the feather. She and I are kindred spirits. I think Allan would have loved the special morning. He would have roared back to the elephants, or he would have listened in awe as they rumbled this morning. He would have run ahead of us to find out what was next, or he would have been mesmerized by the Siamangs and would hardly have been dragged away with any promise.
After a quick trip to the library, we dropped Evie off at daycare and took our ritual trip to the nursery. We buy a tree every year on Allan's birthday. Last year two of the trees we have bought died, so we had a few to replace. After an hour of perusing and discussing, we discovered the citrus tree section. There was no going back. We are home now with one Kumquat tree, one lime tree and a satsuma orange tree. Each one of them has fruit growing. They will be a nice addition to the little Meyer lemon we already have.
Tonight we are planning to eat gazpacho and owl cake. I think the cake will be amazing...I think Allan would like going on night walks to find owls around here.
Thanks for all the notes, calls and love you send our way today and every day.
Heather, mom to Allan Frederick Lerner and Evelyn Rose Lerner
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