June 12, Plus or Minus

I could have a 2-year-old. 

That’s what I keep thinking to myself. 2 years old. A whole toddler. Terrible Twos. I could have a 2 year old and an almost 11 month old. In fact, if I got pregnant today I’d eventually have an almost 2 year old and an almost 11 month old (and a dead baby).

Today is June 12th, which was Maliyah’s due date. Every night now, I put A to sleep, and I think about her. For the first few months of his life, I didn’t think about her often because I was too tired, and honestly the only thoughts I had were about when the next time was that I was going to sleep. But as I have restful nights of sleep now, and as A becomes his own person, a full-fledged human with wants and likes and dislikes and facial expressions, I keep thinking about what his sister would be like, and whether they would be similar. 

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you may remember the story of how we broke the news of my first pregnancy to my parents. Ironically, for my mom’s first pregnancy (with my older sister), she was also due June 12. This felt like kismet when I got my due date. When my mom was very pregnant, she had a shirt that said, “June 12, plus or minus.” I didn’t even know about the shirt when I found out I was pregnant, but my sister had heard about it many times. Since my sister was the first person I told about Maliyah, she helped me brainstorm the announcement to my parents and I ordered iron-on letters. I actually posted on Buy Nothing to get a different color for the iron-on numbers. When I sat down to write this blog, I found my post, November 22, 2022, just in time for our Thanksgiving announcement.

We all know how that story ended: with an announcement that included happy tears at the time, but sad tears in hindsight. Of course, I still had the shirt. When you have a kid who dies, you end up with a lot of things, some of which you can’t get out of your house fast enough, and some of which you never can stomach getting rid of. That shirt I not only couldn’t get rid of, I couldn’t even take it out of my closet. It felt like it needed to be with the rest of my clothes so I could look at it all the time.

This year on June 12, I put A in the shirt, which was a hilarious exercise because he never stands still and was crawling all over the apartment in this large “dress.” I tried to pose him with the shirt and was semi successful, but then I realized I wanted to put him in the one hand-me-down outfit that I have. I only purchased one outfit for Maliyah – it was a onesie that I bought when I was in Australia one week after I found out I was pregnant. I put him in the Vegemite onesie and took another photo. 

It’s so strange to have a baby here and a baby not here. I remember the first year that Maliyah’s due date came and went I was absolutely inconsolable. it felt worse than when I was in the hospital losing her. In the hospital, I was in shock and it felt fake. But three months later, the grief had fully set in. On June 12, it felt like it was the last possible day that I would have a living baby in my arms, and I knew when that day passed, it was over. Of course, I knew that wasn’t rational because she was already gone but that day specifically was one of the hardest in my “grief journey.”

Last year on this date, I was 32 weeks pregnant, sad but also hopeful. Also, extremely superstitious. I didn’t want to be too hopeful, but it felt so different than the year before, when I was in deep sadness, and in purgatory, i.e. a doctor-ordered waiting period before attempting another pregnancy. 

This year, again it’s different. 

Every time I go anywhere with A, people call him a girl. I don’t necessarily dress him in BOY clothes, but the last time this happened, he was in a onesie with dinosaurs. It could go either way, boy or girl, he’s a baby. There isn’t much of a difference. But every time it happens, it feels like a strange sign from Maliyah. Yes, it’s more likely that people misgender (mis-sex?) him because of his long, curly eyelashes and because all babies look the same (and he’s just a beautiful kid), but sometimes I think it’s a little nod. It’s as if Maliyah’s saying, A’s with you, but I’m still here too, in spirit. 

On this June 12, plus or minus, we especially are thinking of you, Maliyah, my first born.