I've been anxious about tomorrow approaching all semester. Tomorrow's date isn't of any significance, but what I will be doing is.
I'm teaching again this semester like I did last semester. It's the same class, same material. But there's a big difference, you aren't there with me. I feel like you probably got sick of hearing about statistics. Between the seminars I attended, the talks I gave, the teaching I did, and the help I gave during office hours you heard a lot about it. Would you have been a little statistician, enjoying math like Mommy? Or would you have been more into history like Daddy?
You were with me every time I taught last semester. Toward the end it was getting difficult for me to wander up and down the crowded aisles of the class room while the students were working on their activities. The last couple office hours I held I remember I accidentally "belly bumped" someone. You must have had a growth spurt and I wasn't used to how far out my belly went.
Teaching this semester hasn't been the same. Nothing is the same without you. I don't have my big belly, I don't have as much enthusiasm, I don't have you. And tomorrow, tomorrow I teach the material I was supposed to teach the day you were born. I was all ready to teach that day. I had made my copies the day before and stacked them neatly on my desk. In fact baby boy, they are still there. Still in the same corner of the desk I left them on Thursday, October 27th (your uncle's birthday by the way). I haven't been able to do anything with them yet. They symbolize some of the last moments of our lives going they way I planned, the way I thought things would go, the only way I thought they could go.
Instead of teaching that Friday morning, October 28th, you my dear boy made your grand entrance. Oh what a surprise that was. Most of the time I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I just went into labor so early. No rhyme or reason. That morning I sent a precedent for all the TAs to call in for a sub. While in labor with you, while I couldn't stand up for fear my water would break, while the ambulance was on the way, I called a fellow TA. All I could say is that I couldn't teach because I had to go to the hospital. I didn't even tell him I was in labor. I think he figured it out though or at least that something was up with you. I don't know why I didn't just say you were on your way. I guess at that moment I wanted to know you'd be okay before telling anyone about you arriving. I was panicked, scared, and focused on getting you here safely.
So tomorrow I will wake up and get ready like any other day. I will teach the material I was supposed to teach the day you were born. It's the first material this semester that I hadn't taught last semester. But that's not why it's going to be hard. It's going to be hard because I should have taught this material with you all cozy in my womb. We should have finished out last semester together. Maybe if you would have just made it through that class you would still be here. Or I shouldn't be teaching this material at all. I should not have the chance to do so because I should have you to take care of and worry about. I wasn't going to teach this semester. The only reason I am is because you're not here.
Will you be listening to Mommy tomorrow, Marcellus? Learning the rest of the material you missed out on last semester? Although you aren't in my womb for this one, I know you are in my heart. You will still be there with me. Please be there with me tomorrow.
I love you with all my heart sweet boy. I just can't say that enough. I love you! I love you! I love you! I miss you every single second of every single day. Tomorrow I will especially think about that day you were born last fall semester. I will think about how my life is so different on this corresponding day of the spring semester. I will be sad. I will be sad that you are not here. That this is what I have to do. Teach the material I was supposed to teach the day you were born. But I will also be thankful. I will be thankful that you were born. I will always be thankful for that. When I get overwhelmed please help me think of the beautiful moments from that crazy day last semester. Like Daddy having to carry me down the stairs, feeling you move like crazy in the ambulance, you letting out a cry when you were born to tell me you were okay, looking into Daddy's eyes when the doctor said "it's a boy!", seeing Daddy come back from seeing you overflowing with pride, seeing the pictures he snapped of you as he told me how good you looked and how beautiful you were, finally getting to see you for the first time 5 hours after you were born. October 28th, 2011 - your birthday. A happy day.