Easter has both positive and negative associations that come up every year.
Eight years ago on Easter Sunday, I was in labor with Kidzilla. Although I was very excited, it was a terrible day to be in labor because there was nothing to do. Every thing was closed, I couldn't even buy a sandwich, and all I wanted was to be out moving around. I made it through dinner at my parent's house, during most of which they didn't believe that I was actually in labor (Kidzilla was a slow mover). I have a vivid memory of standing in line at the local Walgreens drugstore, very late at night, picking up something I desperately needed at the time to make it through labor. I was huffing and puffing at that point and leaning on my then-spouse for support while waiting in line while the woman ahead of us debated which brand of cigarettes that came in a green package it was that her boyfriend wanted her to purchase and then while she paid by check that, of course, had to be called in for verification. It was excruciating not just because I was in labor, but because the entire process was taking forever and there was a line of people building behind me. Kidzilla ended up being born at 2pm the next afternoon after a total of 34 hours of labor.
Three years ago was a big one. It was the long awaited day that A was finally due to leave for his airline training. We were so excited but didn't really know what to expect. Would he be able to come home at all during the expected six week training? Would I be able to survive on my one without having to resort to feeding Kidzilla peanut butter and jelly sandwiches nightly and running out of gas because I refuse to fill the tank myself? My most vivid memory of this event was being so excited and proud to take A to the airport and then promptly bursting into tears when he left us to make his way through the security line. I silently cried while Kidzilla tried to comfort me in his then five year old way. We stayed until we say A walking down the long hallway to his boarding gate. He was able to come home every weekend during training and by our third goodbye I was no longer in tears.
That same day was a double whammy because I had unexpectedly discovered I was pregnant hours before we took A to the airport. Although we wanted another child, we didn't at that moment. There were so many other things on our plates at the time. The pregnancy didn't make it and we were both saddened and relieved to find that out. A was not available to be much help to me as he was immersed in intense airline training. There was very little time to digest any news or feelings due to his schedule, but we both limped through it.
Now this time of year always hits me a little harder because ever since that Easter three years ago, we have been unable to get pregnant again, despite our best attempts. There's always a bit of sadness mixed in with the joyous feelings from Kidzilla's birthday. Both of my pregnancies held Easter as a special day and I always hope that once again Easter will work it's magic. We've seen doctors, had tests, tried medicines and all the rest, yet despite nothing by optimistic results, each Easter our arms are empty.
This year I am trying to focus on the spirit of rebirth by rejoicing in the good news that A is going back to work soon and that both doctors have told us that there is nothing but a minute chance that A's cancer will come back. While he's focusing on getting back in shape and relearning everything aviation related, I'm focusing on the new roles our family members will take on once he is back flying. This season brings new life to us all.