Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Less than a week

Less than a week

Less than a week to Nova's bithday and I can't even tell you how bad that sucks. I look at kids his age and they're walking and starting to talk, and google over Christmas lights and stuff. Trish came over today and I was watching Ryan toddle around and I thought, "He's so little, Nova would tower over him..." Of course, who knows if that's really true, post-surgery heart babies have a lot of issues, especially with feeding, so maybe he'd have been small. I'll just never know, but I can't help but think about that sort of thing when I see kids 'his age.'

While she was here Scott's mom called. Our phone service is that digital phone, and it's been screwy lately - it keeps sending calls straight to the voice messaging service, which would be ok if we knew to check the messages, but when you're home, and the phone doesn't ring, you have no reason to believe you've missed any calls, and have no reason to think you need to check your messages... Well she's called 3 times in the last couple of days and has only gotten our voice mail, and has assumed we just weren't returning her calls. Now I feel badly that she thought, for days, that we just didn't want to talk to her. She and I generally don't talk a lot, and she isn't the mushy type, so when she found out Scott wasn't home, and kept talking, it was kind of weird, we just don't really talk a lot. But when she started talking about this being the first Thanksgiving without Randy... well, now I'm worried about her, that just isn't like her. I'm worried enough that I called Scott at work to talk to him about it, and I never call him when he's working.

Anyway, I'm making a cake that looks like this:

It's the graphic from Nova's blog.
We're taking it, and several toys and things, to CVRU in honor of his first birthday. I'm looking forward to it, and dreading it too. By then, we'll be working up to 8 months since his death, and I still wish I'd wake up...


  1. *hug* you're doing a wonderful thing, sweetie. I can never pretend to understand what you went through or are going through still. I can only say that I feel your pain. It hangs over me in the air that I breathe. It was tough enough knowing we could have lost John to his addiction. All I can say is I love you still and think of you often. I wish we could ALL wake up from our nightmares.

  2. *hugs* E. I can only imagine how tough it is to watch other babies grow and wonder how Nova might be at this age. I think you're doing wonderful things in his memory, though.

    Tell me, if I were to maybe start a knitalong for the CVRU, what item would be most warmly accepted? Blankets? Booties? Hats? All of the above? I'd like to do something in honor of him, and benefiting other kids in his situation.

    Love you, E.

  3. I am hooked on reading your blog, your honesty is so soothing to me. We just get through things one day at a time, and the thing we though would upset us is often not the one that knocks us down.