I've spent the past week up in Portland--visiting my sister and Andy, and spending time with my new niece Madeline.
It's been an amazing week...and of course, it's a reminder of you, Luke. Seeing my sister bond with Maddie allows me a glimpse into all the scenarios that should have been for us but weren't.
Anyway, I'm t the airport right now, and I truly give myself a pat on the back for how well I took this entire trip.
But maybe I'm hormonal. Or emotional from meeting Maddie for the first time. But it kind of just came out.
I was sort of apprehensive about security up here because they use those body scanners, and I'm pretty against that being pregnant right now. So I was hoping to be sent straight to the metal detectors.
And amazingly, I was!
But I kept setting it off. And I had no idea why. I was empty of everything. And then the guy mentioned that it was probably the underwire in my bra. Dammit.
So I got sent straight to the pat-down.
The woman's name was Debra. I could tell right away she was very nice. She explained everything to me that she would do, and then asked about my necklace.
I told her it was for my son. My son that I lost. And then the tears came.
And she told me that she lost a son too.
She asked what his name was and how old he was. And when I told her you were stillborn at 39 weeks, she said, no--you were 39 weeks old.
Her son was 23 months old when she lost him. When she told me that I burst out in more tears for her.
All of this while she was doing her job to make sure I was not a threat to airport security.
We chatted. She was wonderful and told me that she now has 3 grandkids, and while the grief doesn't go away...it hurts less, all these years later. But she told me to never feel bad for grieving.
And then she hugged me.
It's strange how our stories bring us together sometimes. Even in the unlikeliest of places.
So now I sort of feel like a weird hormonal wreck, but I have a plane to catch....