Shortly after our son’s memorial I went and got my hair done. I don’t exactly remember the date, it could have been the week of or the week after, it was definitely a Thursday. My hairdresser is my very close friend and told me she had all day to do whatever I wanted; I decided to get a bob haircut and blonde balayage.

When I look back, I can recall feeling disconnected from the activity. She did most of the talking and I hate to even admit that there were moments I wasn’t actively listening but appreciated her for talking anyway. I don’t think I said much the entire time.

As I sat in the chair mute, and barely there, a part of the (one sided) conversation caught my attention.

She was telling me all the things her and her husband did for their anniversary. Every year they celebrated their anniversary by doing something lavish.  

This year they had made a whole day of it. She told me about their lunch and the first escape room. She told me that they went home for a little bit before they went to dinner and to another escape room. She gave me all the details of the escape rooms and the meals.

As she was telling me these things, I thought to myself this was a lot to do in one day.

For not saying much while I was there, I do remember engaging in this conversation: “You guys did a lot. When did you guys do all of this?”. I think I even asked if her husband took a Monday off since my friend has every Monday off or maybe I just thought this in my head.

Her response: “Saturday”.  

Clear as day I remember saying with forced enthusiasm “Oh nice! You had a Saturday off!”

As she was starting to put my hair in those little twists, the way hairdressers do, to start cutting it, I could feel she was hesitant to say what she said next….

“Yea, the 8th

Punch to the gut! If I didn’t already look pale and sickly, I would have after hearing this.

She did these things on the day all the women I cared about were supposed to get together to celebrate the upcoming birth of our baby boy, except we didn’t get to have this celebration.

Instead on the 8th of February, I held my incredible son one last time as he passed away in my arms.

Instead of coming out to my baby shower, all these wonderful women woke up to a text message that said something to the effect: ‘Albert and Mallory said their final good byes to their son, Theodore Edward at 3:30 this morning.’ Instead of celebrating, I was at home in bed where I slept for hours and hours.

Those first few weeks after, actually first few months after, it was painful to think about how others could go on with their lives so effortlessly. It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t and honestly at times still doesn’t feel right to go on without our son.

I think about this conversation a lot. It stands out to me so much because this is the day I learned the cold truth… the world kept spinning.

2 thoughts on “The World Kept Spinning”

  1. Mallory, Unexpectedly losing your infant son TEK so soon was definitely an unimaginable loss to bear. As your world was reeling in grief and deep sorrow your dear friend reached out to you with good intentions to be supportive and spend some quality time with you. I’m sure she thought she was being ever so careful to avoid obvious conversations. Unfortunately, after what you have endured everything brings up triggers and reminders of what “could of” or “should of” been. But I can see how at times to you it appears that life for everyone around you has gone back to normal while you are still spinning in confusion and grieving your devastating loss. Realistically life will go on for everyone around you, but for you sadly it is going to be a new normal as a “loss mother”. When faced with daily challenges just try to relax, take deep breaths and not panic…baby steps to healing.

    You speak about that fateful morning in your life, Saturday, February 8th, 2020 that can never be erased. I myself can still feel the gravity of that inconsolable morning as I watched you cuddle and love your baby boy until his final breaths. As, your mother (and grandma), I can tell you that the trauma of that early morning is also the most tragic day of my life as I witnessed my daughter’s dreams of motherhood slip away in that very moment. I felt so helpless and knew there was nothing I could say or do to lessen your hurt. I hope and pray every day that as time goes on you will start to experience the simple joy’s of life again and feel hope too…someday.

    Please remember you will always have the love and support of friends and family members who would drop everything to be there for you if you reach out to them. Even though you feel as though everyone’s life has moved on…you and Theodore are not and never will be forgotten.

    With unconditional love, Mom

  2. That last line. It’s so hard to see others kept living their lives when ours stopped.

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