August, 2009:

It’s almost season, in fact the first preseason game is on as I type, and I don’t want it to start.  It’s been a constant part of our lives for the past three years. 

We missed maybe a few games because the weather was just way too cold, but we still made it to at least a couple of those frigid ones.  Like that GB game where the snow was going in all directions at the same time.  I think Favre said it was the coldest game he ever played in.  The beer was freezing before we made it back to the seats.   Or that other game, not sure who they played (it was too cold to remember anyways), when it was so windy we just sat in the car most of tailgating.  We were wearing gym shoes and the wind went right through them.  We tried to cook on the grill.  We had to tilt the table on its side just to block the wind.  Then the wind blew over the table and then the grill … so that was about it for tailgating that day.

I definitely took advantage of the pregnancies.  Last year and two years prior we were expecting at just about the same time.  She didn’t care all that much that she couldn’t drink.  She still had a blast.  She could do that sort of thing.  Of course the season she wasn’t pregnant we had to draw straws to see who would drive, but it was usually my responsibility because she was dd when she was pregnant.  This was supposed to be her year again.

And then there was the super bowl and playoff games leading up to it.  The NO game was and may always be the most incredible game I’ve ever been too.  I think that was also the game of the chili incident.  I started cooking chili for the games.  It was oh so good.  We were packing up the car and the chili got in there before everything else was packed up.  I tried lifting something to put more in and there went the chili and entire crock pot…all over the ground, broken into a hundred pieces and chili everywhere.  And then the super bowl.  It was my fear that I would not take the job and the bears would go to the super bowl.  Fortunately I took the job and even more fortunately they actually went.  It was a big debate.  We’re 8+ months pregnant and we are faced with the option of going or skipping it.  What if they win?  This pregnancy was the only thing in our way.  She definitely wasn’t going to let me go without her so the only real option was…she’s going to go too.  Flying wasn’t an option because she’d probably go into labor so we rented an RV.  I mapped out all the hospitals along the way and each time we passed one we marked it down for the ride back.  There were even vegas odds that someone would go into labor at the game.  And some women, less pregnant than us, actually marketed her belly to some company and made $$ off of it there.  Nevertheless, we made the trip and it was a great time (even tho they lost and it rained the entire game).  Two days after we came home, E was born.

It’s so hard to even think and write these words.  It’s season soon and she’s not here to share this with.  Who am I going to be able to share all this with.  That sharing thing.  That’s one of the most difficult to swallow.  She was my best friend.  No one else mattered like she did.  She was my life, my everything.  It’s so difficult to do these things without her.

I don’t think it’s strength that keeps me going.  I read the posts of another lady who’s going through similar b.s. and someone recently commented on her post and said something about how strong she is.  I’ve been told the same.  It doesn’t feel like strength.  It feels like I’m on the verge of breaking down at any given moment.  It’s like a thin line between functioning and becoming a complete mess.  So strength?  I don’t know, I just try to get through the day.  I’m sure she does the same thing.  The kids depend on me.  She has kids too and their almost as young.  I can’t just give up because they depend some much on me.  If we give up on ourselves, we’re giving up on them to.  And that’s absolutely impossible to do.  I don’t know how I’d be able to get through this without them.  I know for sure that I wouldn’t be as exhausted.  I’d probably be spending more time at the bar … not like I spend time at the bar nowadays anyways but if I did I would definitely be spending more if I didn’t have my kiddies.

So again, strength?  It sounds like a polite way to describe it.  But I don’t think it’s accurate.  What’s a more fitting term?  Maybe we just get through the day because the level of exhaustion, both emotionally and physically, is beyond comprehension.