Today at the store I overheard two girls talking about prom. Of the many things that have been stolen from me and others who have lost babies - particularly their first babies (that's a post for another day) - one I hadn't realized until today is how the letters P-R-O-M have changed for me. No longer do they conjure up thoughts of satin dresses (using far too little fabric now..have you seen what they're wearing? Kids these days! [bangs walking stick on porch] Get off my lawn!) (Um, and also, why do all of the women modeling the prom dresses appear to be thirty?).
P.R.O.M. No longer does it mean satin dresses, worrying about who will ask you, a badly decorated gym, sneaking in vodka, post-prom parties at the bowling alley, trying to remove 300 bobby pins from your rock-solid hair...
No. Now the very first thing I think of when I see those letters next to each other is dead baby. Premature rupture of the membranes. Granted, PROM doesn't mean dead baby for everyone - some people rupture even earlier than I did and somehow hold out, some people rupture past a time when the baby can survive - but for me and for too many other women, it does.
Just another "new normal" in my life full of new normals.