Did not expect that

I have been kind of excited for the next few day.  Counting down the days to my spring break.  Even though my classes are online and I work we decided to take this week off and relax.  I do not work for a week so maybe I can get some other work and grieving done.  What I am really excited for is going to a city in the mountains in two days.  We are staying at a bed and breakfast, going to do some hiking, maybe some exploring of the downtown, eat out at some good restaurants, and even share a bottle of wine.  We are also going to do a lot of grieving and crying.  We need to get out of our 'comfort zones' as I call them, get out of the house, of group, of the workplace, places we are familiar with and know we are 'safe'.  We need to go exploring, both physically and emotionally.

My wife asked what if we cry the whole time, well then we will cry somewhere new.  We just need a change of scenery, a change of pace, and time to relax.  But we still had to finish out the week which means I still had to work today.  Work has been quite the issue for me, to see people so pent up about products that do not make life more enjoyable is hard.  But I play along and do my job, as boring as it is. 

Today however was not boring, it was very hard.  Not physically or mentally but emotionally.  About 30 minutes left of my day and 30 minutes left until my vacation I overheard a gentleman asking about me, as I randomly walked past.  I then hear him ask about my baby and my wife.  At first I thought who the hell is this person and why is he asking about my dead son?  I acknowledge myself and he comes up to me and asks about the baby.  Finally I recognize him, he was one of my wife's old tutors from last year. He knew I worked there, and he knew we were expecting.  He looked at me inquisitively, expecting an answer.  The only thing I could say as I drew myself out of my own shocked state was "he died."  He was then shocked in his own way and started apologizing.  I told him that he was born premature, and died unexpectedly.  It was very awkward, I did not even get to mention his NAME!  He then told me that it happens to a lot of women and that we are still young and can try again.  He then said something that was odd, playing off the young comment he stated that he himself was 47 and he had his son late in life and he wont be having another one.  Like that was suppose to comfort me?  That I can have more children in life than him because I am younger?  Like that is suppose to minimize Marcellus's death?  The more children you have the easier it gets to grieve one?  I about said "at least you still have your child" but bit my tongue.  He was only trying to help me.  We parted and I said do not apologize for not knowing, it was kind of nice to hear someone ask about the baby even for just a second.

But that second turned into a flood of misery.  I started sobbing uncontrollably as I ran into the breakroom hoping to God that no one was in there.  I called my wife and asked her to come get me and we talked quick as I told her what happened.  I could not stop crying, I have never cried at work like that.  It was just so painful to tell someone that he died.  I then collected myself and went to clock out, I did not want to be getting paid for crying and then returned to the breakroom.  My wife arrived at work and I darted out of there 10 minutes before I was suppose to go home.  I then cried some more in the car and at home.  It was such a blow to me, an agonizing situation to deal with.  I should have been telling him that he was doing good, so happy and healthy, bouncing up and down, eating like a champ!  But I did not, I told him that he was dead, I left out the part where mommy and daddy feel like they died along with him.  But that is another post. 

I miss him,  I love him so much!