And then you die...

The last month of my pregnancy with Linden, I knew that I wouldn't live to raise him. It was an 'odd' knowing. Nothing I've ever experienced before. I ran through scenarios in my head; what would happen to Steve if I died, could he handle raising a newborn and Will, what would happen to my kids, etc.

The last week of my pregnancy, I cried every night, thinking it was the last days I'd get to spend with Will and Steve.

I never told anyone of my fears. They made no sense to me, how would they to anyone else. Women rarely die during childbirth any more and there wasn't anything wrong with me, but that I was old.

My best friend was at the hospital with me several hours the morning I was admitted, and she came back after Linden was born. When we were alone in the room, she confessed to having horrible dreams that I died while giving birth. I shared the fears I'd been living with.

We laughed. We cried. Then, we thanked God I was still alive and we were both obviously idiots.

I never really gave it another thought, until now.

Tomorrow I am having a small procedure performed in my doctors office with local anesthesia. An hour and a half tops and I'll be home with few side effects. If everything goes right. They made me watch this fifteen minute film outlining all the things that can go wrong.

All day I've found myself once again feeling like I'm saying good bye to my children. Sucking up every moment and holding dear ever expression ... like it will be my last.

And this time, I know I'm being an idiot in advance.

But that doesn't stop the fear. However, knowing where the fear comes from - that helps.

First off, I've had a lot of death in my family in the last five years: a first cousin, a close uncle, a sister, and my mother. There has been a lot of death in Steve's family since we've been together. Death has become way to familiar with me.

Second, a lot of close friends and neighbors have come down with cancer over the last few years. They are still fighting it, still winning. But knowing of their, sometimes daily, battle to live makes death closer and more real some how.

And lastly, I think aging makes you more aware of the fact that at the end of every life, you die. Just doesn't make those birthdays quite as appealing as they use to be.