At the Baggage Claim

...you got a lot of luggage in your name...

I often joke with my husband about hoping nothing ever happens to him because I'd be hard-pressed to find someone willing to deal with all the emotional baggage I've acquired since losing Andrew. Also, losing him would surely add enough baggage to send me on an overage and be grounds for mental ward admittance.

Take Tuesday for example. I had a relatively mild weekend with my husband away on business for five bloody days and only a few moments of the ugly cry on the 5th. Pretty good, I thought. Until he called and told me he would not be home for dinner on day five because of another business meeting. Still, okay it seemed. Annoyed, but okay. Until he finally walked in the door. You'd think I'd jump up and down or run into his arms (like I normally do), but not this time. Instead, I pouted on the couch as I cashed in my investment on Puffs tissue. None of this was his fault and call me emotional or hormonal or both, but I was a blubbering mess of tears until I could fall asleep two hours later.

Seriously, who would take me? Wanted: someone to put up with a woman whose son died and occasionally has outbursts of uncontrollable crying sprees without warning or explanation. Hah. I know I'm not the only one, as most people have baggage and have never experienced the death of a close loved one. But baby loss baggage is hard to contend with.

I never thought I had too much baggage before the winter of hell, 2010. Well, there was that time in my life, now 21 years later, that I swore off meat because my grandparent's farm of our beloved animals turned into a slaughterhouse that managed to make its way on our dinner table in the form of chili mac. That was definitely baggage that stuck the course. But socially acceptable (allowing me to claim ethics or other untrue BS stories) and not tipping the weird scale quite like baby loss does. That kind of crap only happens to really weird people who did something to deserve it. Or so I wish.

Otherwise, I was as normal as they come. Ask my husband pre-hell the number of times he'd seen me cry and he'd be hard-pressed to describe a time. Now, waterworks can be set off on a dime.

I'm better today. And by better I mean not uncontrollably sobbing to the point of lethargy. On the baby front, we're trekking along. He moves like a champ and we're just hoping these next 15 weeks or so go by speedily because my hormones are off the charts!

p.s. If you're in the Chicagoland area, Qdoba Mexican Grill is running a promo to give away $1,000 to three different non-profits/organizations if you write 500 words or less on why they deserve the cash. As a benefit to you, they'll provide a link to print a completely free entree once you're done writing. It took me five minutes. Not sure if I was allowed to select a non-Chicago based organization, but I chose Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope. Other fantastic organizations I know of are Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep and Ellie's Light. All of those wonderful non-profits were started by fellow mothers who lost their children. NILMDTS came in and took photos of Andrew at 1 a.m. on the day we said goodbye, completely free and done entirely by volunteers. Those photos cannot be matched with a price, you guys. That's all I have to remember his beautiful face. If you have a few minutes, earn a free meal and write a little blurb about your favorite non-profit or mine. ;)