Team Taylor Countdown: 36 days until due date
Family,
And a good evening to you from the Queen City. First off, some excellent news - Jenny had her (almost) 35 week checkpoint today, and everything looked great. Heartbeat was 140 (dead center of the road, so still no clues as to boy or girl), Jenny's blood pressure and blood sugar were terrific, and Baby T measured about 35 centimeters. Starting next week the appointments are weekly - we're now officially in the pipe (5 x 5 for all of those "Aliens" fans out there :-)).
Also, as I'm sure you're all on pins and needles wondering (even though the site has yet to receive a hit), last night Team Taylor FINALLY commenced with "packing a bag." Granted, all that's in there is a stick of deodorant, 3 pairs of destroyed, hole-filled boxes, 2 pit stained t-shirts and a pair of pajamas my mom bought me 30 pounds ago, but it's at least a start. Jenny and I will add a bit each night over the next week or so, but I can at least say that I think we've got enough in there to get us through 24-48 in the maternity ward.
As for the focus of the blog tonight, it's actually one that I've been meaning to write for several days - truth be told since last Thursday. It's true that, throughout the pregnancy, I've been an emotional train wreck (I mean seriously, those Dick's Sporting Goods commercials are KILLING me - both of them have torn me up so far). It feels like daily I'm discovering an endless well of new emotions, none of which I have any experience processing except for my mother's prophetic words "Oh, just you wait - you'll understand someday." And that's part of why I started this blog - an (admittedly difficult and possibly futile) attempt to capture all of these moments and feelings as they rushed past, knowing that even if my prose didn't even so much as the surface of how I felt I at least had some token of the moment upon which to hang my memory. And I'd always planned one (or fifty) of those "make each day count" posts, trying desperately to remind myself that these times, like so many other amazing ones before it, go by in the blink of an eye, and soon all you're left with are the photos, the memories, and the question "did that really happen?" (and don't get my wrong - all of that is amazing, so I'm not complaining!).
But last Thursday something happened that moved me from a desire to enjoy the moment to a resolve to truly make each moment count. Chances are most of you reading this (should anyone ever read it) don't know a fella named Chad Rogers, but he was buddy of mine growing up. My mom taught him in school, we had a lot of the same friends, played Little League against each other (I actually beaned him with a pitch twice in the same game - only guy I ever did that to). He was a great, gentle, fun loving guy. Last Thursday a freak accident at an interstate construction site took his life, and I've spent the last week trying to process that. And now I realize that you simply can't. You can try, you can think on the frailty of life, but the reality is that life is so immense and we are so fragile that if you try to grasp not only life as you live it but also the possibilities of one's future, you quickly become overwhelmed. And so that day I simply tried to control what I could - enjoying those hours. I realized that too often I've cooked dinner, Jenny and I have sat down, we've prayed, and then I've turned on House Hunters. I realized that too often she's asked me a question and instead of answering I'm watching a movie trailer or trying to finish a chapter in a book. That's when it hits you - you live with the most amazing, most beautiful, most perfect creature in the world - who is now carrying your child - and that should have been all I was focused on in that moment. I think I did better Friday, as we met some friends and had a great evening. Same with Saturday - I truly felt like I took in the moment (the birthing class - on second thought, perhaps it took in me...) and even the pizza that night. :-) Same with Sunday - it was a great day surrounded by friends, and I felt truly at peace.
I don't know if Chad had a wife or children - we hadn't kept in touch over the years. But what I do know is that his passing made me realize how fleeting life is and that I have to find a way to slow down and enjoy every second. Thinking about everything he will miss in the next 60 years was heartbreaking, and when I considered my own future - all my hopes, dreams, expectations - the thought of missing out on all that lies ahead terrified me. I feel so sorry for his family in their loss, and I pray that they can make it through this horrible time and find solace among friends, family, and God.
I am hoping that some dedicated time at home with my wife and child will help me constantly to remember the importance of enjoying every moment, but I'm under no illusion that the next 18 years will be anything less than a blur. I am just thankful my wife is such a good historian and always remembers to take photos. :-) And I know this resolve will fade from time to time, but my hope is that, when I look at my wife, my child, my friends, and my family, I can remember the commitment I made writing this and take in that time with them. And by striving for that, I hope that in some small way I'll honor the memory of Chad and the person he was, as he did bring out the best in people, and he's certainly helped me to refocus my life on what's important.
I know this blog has been a bit of a ramble, and in re-reading it I don't feel that I've done an adequate job expressing how I'm feeling. So rather than me say it, let me quote my best friend John Rice who wrote a group of us after Chad's passing:
"This may sound sappy, but I just didn't want to go to bed tonight without telling my friends how valuable you are to me. The events of the past week have made me aware of the fact that life is short, and I take much for granted. I love you, and you have made my life more rich and exciting. Thank you for being so awesome. Again, I love you." I love you, too, man.
So hold those you love a little tighter tonight, and tell them you love them. Baby T - I will hold you tight very soon, and I already love you more than you can possibly know.
Go rest high, Chad. You will be missed.
Love,
Sam
P.S. In case anyone's wondering about the title, that's my favorite song from my Uncle Benny - his best song EVER. Love ya, Teen Titan.
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