The day we went to the hospital because Alexandra wasn't moving, I had an appointment. I had it written on a card in my wallet. The clinic's card, with my printing on the back "Tuesday 27th - 1:15pm" I have taken things out of my wallet many, many times since that day, but the card is still there.
This card will stay in my wallet forever. If I happen to switch wallets, I will transfer the card into my new wallet. I feel like I have to carry it around with. I do not know why this is, it just is.
It's like Alexandra's room. There is a box, the stroller box. Steve had finally put the stroller together and had left the box there. It clutters the room, but I just don't care, the box just has to stay there.
There was a picture. On the 27th, after we came home, Dayne drew me a picture on his dry erase board. I kept telling myself to take a picture. He hardly ever uses the dry erase side, he prefers his chalk board. Every time I thought about taking a picture I would tell myself "A little bit later, after I ___" and then I would forget. And I forgot and forgot until the other day, as I cooked supper, I turned around and saw Dayne drawing on the dry erase board. He had erased the picture.
I didn't say anything to Dayne, I didn't want to upset him. I quietly told him I would be right back and I left the room. I cried. I cried over a picture. I cried over the fact that I couldn't take just a few minutes out of my time to take the picture, so I could remember that picture forever, so that I could print it and put it in a scrap book for my little girl. It was a failure on my part. And I still feel guilty about it.
I can't keep life as it was that day, or before that day. I can't freeze time to a day when Alexandra kicked happily in my belly. I can't keep everything from my pregnancy, I can't, and I know I can't...but, just a few minutes of my time and I could have kept that picture.
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