Five months have passed.
Seems impossible. Seems irrelevant too. It doesn't seem to matter how much time has passed since Logan died. I don't know why I bother counting the days, the weeks and now the months. I'm sure I'll count the years too. It doesn't seem to matter that any time at all has passed, because he is still dead. I'm not sure what I am counting to. Will I say at the ripe old age of 92 (should I be blessed/cursed enough to live that long) that my son should have been 60? That he should have been a parent himself? A grandfather even? That he should have lived a long and happy life? Will I, at 92, still see my son as the tiny, tiny baby who left me before he had a chance to live, and not the old man that he should have been?
At 92, will I still be the mother to a dead baby? Yea. I'll always be that I suppose.
I find myself settling down into this role (on most days). I find myself admitting that perhaps I am too old, and that I shouldn't have been having babies at 31. Science is still iffy on that, but I have the proof of what society constitutes a woman being too old to have a baby is. I have a baby with Down Syndrome. I have a baby who died because I was too old to give him a healthy egg to start out with. At 31 years old, I am an old woman. Go ahead and laugh. I know, it sounds ridiculous. But by all accounts our good eggs vs. bad eggs are what make us feel young vs. old right? Isn't that what we grow up hearing? Your eggs are too old, you shouldn't try. I just didn't realize that at 31 it was possible that I was too old. I mean, I guess you can be too old at 19, or even 16, or if your lucky not till your 45 or more aged. Eggs have an expiration date. Did you know that? Mine have expired. My chances are pretty good that I'll have more bad eggs. Apparently they don't all go at once. That's a nice perk. Now having a baby is a crap shoot. A 1 in 100 chance that my next egg will fail us too.
I wonder if my expiration date was posted somewhere...would he have chosen me anyhow? Would he have chosen this amount of anguish had he known before hand? Would he have chosen me regardless of his horrid future, his eternal pain over the loss of a son he was promised and then so cruelly told "psych!" to? Would I have wanted him to have chosen me anyhow?
I'm too young to feel so old.