Nine Months

Nine months. Every time I hear those two words together I immediately associate them with a woman’s pregnancy. 

When I was pregnant I used to think that nine months was a very long time. Nine months until I could see my baby, until I could really know if it was a he or a she, until I could hold my baby in my arms. The reality is, it was more like 7 months and one week but he time I got to pee on the magic stick and actually confirm that I was indeed pregnant. 

But we kinda round it up to nine months. Nine months of expectations and belly expansion, of planning and sometimes panicking, of body changes, mood swings, cravings and a whole lot of newness - some exciting, some scary, most unpredictable.

The one thing I did know for sure is my life would never be the same after those nine months. 

Nine months. Those words have gained a new meaning for me now that it’s been nine months since Jason died. 

Nine months of expectations if I will have what it takes to wake up the next morning and face another unpredictable day. At least now there is no belly expansion. Instead here is the expanse landscape of a future that has died and another future that has began. 

But I don’t know how to plan for this new newness, And I panic trying to imagine, or better re-imagine a new future with all its unwanted changes, and mood swings and cravings for the life and the man I can no longer have amidst this newness void of excitement but overflowing with scary unpredictabilities. 

Once again I find myself knowing for sure my life will never be the same after those nine months. 

But now, only nine months later I also have discovered something else, that I although I have no choice but to face the newness, I do have the dignity of choosing how I will step into my future. 

Just like during my nine months of pregnancy, my resolve to look on the bright side quivered often - cause let’s face it, pregnancy is a freaking challenge on a good day - I am well aware that choosing to embrace the new without Jason is a choice that I will probably have to make every day of my life from now on. And I know my determination, which is strong at this very moment will quiver and at times falter.

Nine months. 

I survived nine months since my husband left. Maybe now I can start to discover that there is life after death and that my life can still count for something. Maybe I can make this newness better than I was able to imagine. And maybe, I may be able to use all that I have been through to make someone else’s life better too.