Angie and I have been arguing. Not the screaming, yelling kind of fighting reserved for more explosive couples and certain TV dramas. Rather it was a quiet, 'I don't want to talk to you, look at you, think about you' type of argument that is, in some ways, far more devastating. And definitely harder to resolve. When you don't know why the other person is angry or upset and can't get them to communicate... Let's just say we both learned a valuable lesson in the department of digging deeper for meaning in each others words before jumping to conclusions.
Before I go on, the argument was resolved and largely originated from a misunderstanding. She misunderstood something I had said, and I misunderstood her mood as a result.
The argument was about starting to have children again. Her stance was, 'Why haven't you gotten me pregnant again yet?', and mine was 'I'm terrified and I'd like some more time to process our loss and prepare for a new life before I go jumping into anything'. Even though everything has been settled, I'd like to explore and describe my fears a little bit, and see who else suffers like this.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
The Clever Biscuit
This is a story I came up with about a month after we lost Aiden. Hope you enjoy it:
The tale of the clever biscuit begins with it’s creation. There once was a bag of rice stored in a basement with various unused odds and ends. One day the earth shook and the bag tipped over, ever so slightly brushing against a tiny brass lamp. Now, this was no ordinary lamp. This was one of those ancient middle-eastern lamps. You know the kind, they look like teapots for some reason.
Well, just like any other middle-eastern brass lamp in any fairy tale that you’ve ever heard of, this one had a Genie inside of it, and that Genie was the wishing kind. Unfortunately for the Genie, there’s not a whole lot of wishing that a bag of rice needs to have done, it being unable to think critically and lacking a way with which to convey the thoughts it doesn’t have. So the Genie, with a careful bit of mimickry and large dose of ventriloquism, decided that the bag of rice would most likely wish for sentience and a mouth as it’s first two wishes. *POOF* *POOF*!
The tale of the clever biscuit begins with it’s creation. There once was a bag of rice stored in a basement with various unused odds and ends. One day the earth shook and the bag tipped over, ever so slightly brushing against a tiny brass lamp. Now, this was no ordinary lamp. This was one of those ancient middle-eastern lamps. You know the kind, they look like teapots for some reason.
Well, just like any other middle-eastern brass lamp in any fairy tale that you’ve ever heard of, this one had a Genie inside of it, and that Genie was the wishing kind. Unfortunately for the Genie, there’s not a whole lot of wishing that a bag of rice needs to have done, it being unable to think critically and lacking a way with which to convey the thoughts it doesn’t have. So the Genie, with a careful bit of mimickry and large dose of ventriloquism, decided that the bag of rice would most likely wish for sentience and a mouth as it’s first two wishes. *POOF* *POOF*!
The Reason Behind the Askew
Hello, my name is Kevin. Being my first post, I'd like to use this space to detail why I've decided to share my thoughts and words on the almighty interweb.
Two months and 14 days ago I had a son. I've never been more proud of any creation before or since that little boy graced my life. His name was Aiden, and he was the spitting image of his old man: Tall, skinny, fiery red hair, hands like a 90 year old, and eyes like... Well, I never got to see his eyes, and that's something I regret profoundly. You see my son, my little Aiden, was stillborn at 37 weeks.
Thursday, August 12th, started as a normal day. I woke up early and showered, dressed for work, said goodbye to my wife Angie and rubbed her belly while I told Aiden how excited I was to see him. Angie was due August 30th, and today she was having a standard doctor's visit. A couple of weeks ago she had begun seeing him every week for regular checkups.
Two months and 14 days ago I had a son. I've never been more proud of any creation before or since that little boy graced my life. His name was Aiden, and he was the spitting image of his old man: Tall, skinny, fiery red hair, hands like a 90 year old, and eyes like... Well, I never got to see his eyes, and that's something I regret profoundly. You see my son, my little Aiden, was stillborn at 37 weeks.
Thursday, August 12th, started as a normal day. I woke up early and showered, dressed for work, said goodbye to my wife Angie and rubbed her belly while I told Aiden how excited I was to see him. Angie was due August 30th, and today she was having a standard doctor's visit. A couple of weeks ago she had begun seeing him every week for regular checkups.
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