Thursday, November 29, 2007

In memory.....

A year ago, a tragic car accident killed my RE. I could give the alleged details and reports of what happened. That could tell the how. I still ask myself and wonder 'why'. The lives of countless people were changed in that instant. For me, the year has dulled the shock and the pain and the grief. The sadness is still there.

If you've followed my story for any length of time, you will know how much Dr. N meant to me (and so many others). If you've followed my story for any length of time, you will know that this was a very difficult and emotional year from a ttc perspective, made even more difficult with the loss of Dr. N. Nothing was the same. Nothing will ever be the same again. I've cycled and been monitored with Dr. N's colleagues, but I would not really consider either my RE. And, I think if you asked them, they still see me as Dr. N's patient. I've really been my own RE this year based on what I learned from Dr. N. Often, I think and wonder how this year would have been different had that routine, weekly trip to teach hadn't ended his life. How it would have been different for me, his other patients, his wife and children, the daughter that he never saw or held or kissed. How it could have been different. I wonder if I would have, could have gotten pregnant with another child from my own eggs with my own genes. Questions that really have no answers. The reality is, for me, it likely made no physical difference. Emotionally, it made all the difference in the world.

I said it a year ago and I'll say it again today. It is just so unfair. It should never have happened. I'll never understand 'why'.

A year ago, I was, like now, in the preliminary phases of an IVF cycle. A modified Estrogen Priming protocol that Dr. N and I had cooked up as my best chance to conceive. I crashed and burned with poor response, again. In my heart of hearts, I knew at the time it was my last shot with my own eggs and that anything I did this year would just be doing what I had to do to move on. I've grieved the loss of another genetic child, a full sibling to Max along with my grieving for Dr. N.

I don't think I will ever really stop grieving for both. I've done what I had to do this year to come to peace. Time has done some healing and the grief isn't so raw or so present in my every day life. I can drive to and from the clinic without crying both ways at my loss(es). The grief and sadness isn't as intense, but I don't think it will ever be fully gone.

Nora Grace

If I'm ever fortunate enough to get pregnant again and have another child. Likely, that child will be named in memory of Dr. N. I've thought long and hard about it while hoping and praying and wishing upon that star for another child. And, if I am fortunate to have another child and that child is a girl (and some have predicted that I do and it is), I'm pretty sure her name will be Nora Grace. If, I'm fortunate enough to have another child and the child is a boy, I'm still undecided. After much thought and contemplating and pondering, I haven't quite come up with just the right boy name. Who knows, I could always change my mind. Heck, I went into the hospital planning to name Max Zachary Edward, Zachary Edward was going to be Audrey Elizabeth until around week 30 when I found out I was boy instead of a girl.

But, for some reason, Nora Grace just feels right.

Anyway, Dr. N, I can't believe it has been a year. I still miss you more than I could ever say. I really hope you are in a better place. I hope you know what a legacy you left behind with your family and kids and patients. Or, maybe you do know and are looking down still helping to guide and watch. Gently, from the sidelines. I have to say, if so, it just isn't the same. It will never be the same. Those you left behind are still affected. We will never forget you. Dr. N, I will never forget you. The tears I cry today on your behalf are not with the same shock and intense emotion as the tears I cried a year ago. However, they are just as sad.

Note: Dr. N's death was actually the morning of Monday, November 27, 2006. I've been thinking about him and his death all week. I've been drafting this entry in my head all week, but just didn't have it in me to actually write this post until today. I wasn't able to let it go enough the last few days. Hard day, hard week, hard year.


laurajmax said...

Lovely post, Debbie. I've been thinking about Dr. N a lot lately, too. Twice he had the horrible job of being the one to tell me my pregnancies were not viable. He was so kind, always. I will never forget that.


Anonymous said...

I've also been thinking about Dr. N. and the unfairness of it all... He was a wonderful doctor. On another note, when Dr. P. was pregnant with M., early on, she told me their first choice for a name was Audrey...