That's what the report said, more or less. I felt it coming on as I was waiting to pay the bill - a great torrent of... no wait, that sounds silly. A huge vaccuum opening up, sucking all the... not quite right. It was an oppressive, though invisible force, pressing in on me from all sides and... no.

Words fail me. Except the ones which keep repeating themselves inside my head: perfectly normal boy. Perfectly normal boy.

I made it down in the lift, paused briefly to decide between a taxi and the tube. Relaxing my force of will for even a moment left me gulping for air. A crowd of school children streamed past on both sides as I deliberated. Perfectly normal boys. All perfectly normal boys. I took the MRT. Anonymous strangers rarely ask for explanations.

On the platform I was reaching for my book bag when a man stopped to stare at me. I half-looked at him, without meeting his eyes. Indian gentleman, turban, white collared shirt, thoughtful frown. After a pause he said softly, "You are very lucky."

"Really," I replied, looking steadily into his face and giving him a sad little half-smile.

"Yes," he answered emphatically, and tapped his forefinger between his eyes in a gesture I don't understand. "There is good luck coming to you soon - before the end of the year." I paused, baffled, and gave a stunned nod. Then I had to bite my lip and avert my eyes.

The train came. Two stations later the Indian man turned to catch my eyes again, and gave a barely perceptible nod. Then he alighted and was gone.

Gone, just like my perfectly normal boy.

Our perfectly normal boy.

--

(And in remembrance of our perfectly normal boys gone by...)

_____________________________________________________

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

Lest we forget

The Last Post
The Rouse
_____________________________________________________


33 Comments

Vee said...

Oh Bea I am sorry, that must be so difficult.
I hope the Indian man was right and lots of luck comes your way.

Rachel Inbar said...

Bea,

I don't know what to say. I am so sorry.

Sunny said...

I am so so so sorry. No words can make it better. HUGS!

Becks said...

I am sorry those words are running through you mind, it must be so tough. I agree with Vee, I hope the Indian man was a good luck charm and you will have joy before the end of the year.

Karaoke Diva said...

I'm so sorry, Bea. I'm sorry your lost your perfectly normal little boy.

I know when I lost my Bean, I wanted to blame someone for it. But who can you blame? No one. And certainly NOT YOURSELF! Remember that although he was "perfectly normal" something went wrong, but that something was not your fault. You welcomed him with a heart full of love, what happened was beyond your control.

Maybe I'm just putting my feelings on you, but I had a lot of trouble dealing with feeling guilty and I want to make it very clear to you that this was not your fault.

Beagle said...

Oh Bea, my heart aches for you. I hope that luck finds you both soon.

Somewhat Ordinary said...

Bea, I'm so sorry> I don't even know the right words, but please know that you are in my thoughts.

Thalia said...

Oh bea, you took me right back to "46XY normal". It's unbelievably hard, isn't it? TO know there was no obvious reason why something went wrong. I'm so so sorry for your loss.

It makes me understand how ppl with 'unexplained infertility' get disappointed with yet another lack of diagnosis. I get angry with them because isn't it better to have nothing obviously wrong than something? But then this happens and I remember how angry I was to know that I miscarried a perfectly normal boy. Why? There are no answers, and it's just awful, so frustrating and so worrying.

I was recommended various books, websites etc after my similar experience, let me know if you want them.

Jackie said...

Bea,
I'm so sorry. I hope that man is right and that things will turn around for you very soon.

serenity said...

Bea.

This post has me in tears, and my words are failing me too.

I wish I could do more for you than just cry and listen.

*hug*

DD said...

I'm sorry, Bea. Words fail me, too.

Chris said...

I'm so very sorry.

M said...

I am so sorry...it is hard not having an answer. I really really hope that gentleman knows what he is talking about sweetie.

Piccinigirl said...

OH I am at a loss for words because the way you wrote this has me holding back tears. I am just so sorry and for whatever those words are worth, I hope you feel them from me.

*hug*

Mary Ellen and Steve said...

I am so very sorry Bea. *Hug*

Adrienne said...

My heart is breaking for you, Bea. We think (we hope) that answers will bring comfort, but so often all they bring is more questions (and more pain). I am so sorry.

Anonymous said...

I am so sorry Bea, I am crying with you right now! I hope the man on the train is right and you have good luck soon.

Carol said...

My heart goes out to you Bea.

Lut C. said...

A new day, and still no answers.
Though even answers would hardly take the pain away.

Sarah said...

wow, what an incredible encounter to happen at that particular moment in your life. i hope the good luck finds you soon.

sharah said...

Bea, my heart goes out to you. I am so sorry.

It's trivial, but I think the tap on the forehead refers to the third eye chakra.

Hopeful Mother said...

I'm so very sorry for you and Mr. Bea. I really wish it would be easier.

Patience said...

Oh Bea - I don't have great words of comfort, will a hug do for right now? When Luigi's results came back a 'perfectly normal girl' I vacillated between thinking it was good news and bad. Good/bad/good/bad and that went on for ages.
Now, I know it just is. And that makes me sad.

Thinking of you x

megan said...

oh Bea. I'm so sorry.
i hope that stranger on a train is a talisman of sorts.
(hugs)

Cibele said...

Oh Bea, I don't have words to comfort you, just want to say that I am very sorry and that my heart aches for you.

My Reality said...

Oh Bea, my heart breaks for you. Your boy wasn't just normal, he was extraordinary. He has touched people the world over.

Jess said...

Oh Bea, I'm so sorry.

I'm praying for that luck, dear.

Aurelia said...

I'm sorry Bea, this is an answer, but such a hard one to hear. You have that site and stuff I sent you, so maybe use them if you need them.

I'm crying for you and Mr.Bea and The Boy tonight.

Bumble said...

I'm crying for you Bea. I'm so sorry you didn't get to cuddle your perfectly normal little boy. I'm sorry hun. We will remember him too.

Artblog said...

It must make it harder for you :( Words fail me too, life is so unfair at times. I hope the man on the tube is right, I hope it gives you some hope. HUGS

Jules said...

Thinking of you.

Ellen K. said...

WOW. I don't know what I would do or think if a man stopped and told me that. I very much hope he is correct!

GLouise said...

I am so sorry, sweet Bea.

Powered by Blogger.