Me, Cory Girl, and a Baby

Three of Cory's best friends are pregnant right now, all at the same time.  Two are already great Little Mommas and the third has been meant to be a Momma since the day she was born- she's just a natural nurturer.  I am lucky enough to get together with two of them on a regular basis and sort of marvel through the experience of watching girls I've known since they were five years old become grown women carrying and then shaping their own little people.  I get to pat bellies and hear delivery stories.  I haven't been able to make it to their baby showers, but I hope they know I'm with them in my heart during those celebrations.  They are just too hard to attend.

It is now about twenty six days from Cory's twenty-fifth birthday.  How much do I wish she could be part of this club?  There are no words.  But I'll try.  And based on the dream I'll share with you, my brain is trying desperately to process it, too.

My sister and I were pregnant at the same time.  Even though I was a little cut off from my family during that time, there will always be something special about carrying our babies together and bringing them into the world within months of each other.  Even more special, perhaps, was the bond that my nephew, Blake, and Cory had together all the days of her life.  Grade school, they were playmates, classmates, present at each other birthdays.  Middle school and high school, they continued to be delighted whenever they saw each other. They protected each other.  I can't remember a single time I ever saw one of them angry with the other.

 They should have graduated together, but Cory's mental illness had taken its toll and she was behind too many credits to graduate on time with her class.  If anything can speak to how she felt about Blake, it would be that she swallowed past her pride and her pain to show up for him at graduation.  I remember how it felt sitting there beside her watching her friends walk past in caps and gowns.  It was like having my heart turned inside out. I cried helplessly throughout the entire ceremony. To this day, I don't know how Cory managed to be there, with a broad smile, flinging her arm around Blakie at the end to get a pic.  It was not fair that she was not up there,too.  It was not her fault.  But nonetheless, I suspect we both felt like failures that night.  She showed up for her Blakie, but within a day fell into a months long depressive episode.  At the next cousin's graduation, I did not let her attend, hoping everyone would understand the price she paid to face all those triggers.  It was just too high.  The voices were not kind.  Her suffering was not worth one night of well-wishing.

So then, I wonder what kind of unbreakable, magical bond Cory's friends' babies will have.  They will be like family even if they aren't related.  When I daydream about what Cory would be like if she were alive and what she would be doing- there are so many scenarios I try on her in my head.  It reminds me of when we'd heap outfits over our arms and disappear into the dressing rooms in Maurices.  "Are you ready?"  one of us would call.  "Almost!  Hold on!"  the other would cry back, still zipping or buttoning.  We would synchronize the opening of the doors, our rooms often directly across from each other, for dramatic effect.  We would feast our eyes on each other, each one hamming it up a little for the other, maybe throwing a hand on a hip or tossing our head back.  Or when we already knew something didn't quite suit us, we owned that too, parading past the other with fabric drooping in defeat or giggling helplessly at a neckline that would never meet public decency standards.  Then it was back again to try something else.

So now that's what I do.  I imagine her as a student- how does that fit?  Or maybe working part time?  Living at home?  Living with a friend?  Boyfriend?  Single?  Hardest to imagine...married?  Please tell me she picked a good one.  A mother?  While some of these outfits fit better than others in my mind, they are each infinitely better than the reality of her ability to try on different roles being over...and having been over for five and a half years now.  This doesn't stop me from going back in those fitting rooms with her all the time.  Sometimes she comes out with books in hand.  Sometimes she has a work badge on.  Other times, I glimpse the glint of a narrow gold wedding band on her little left hand.  And when I'm around young moms, well, sometimes she cries out, "I'm not ready!  Hold on!" and then comes sauntering out with a baby on her hip and a grin on her face.

I've been working with Dr. Z for just as long now...our therapeutic relationship beginning the day after the accident when I stormed into Summit Pointe when the doors open, out of my mind, but somehow confident he would know just what to do, just as he had with every scary out of control situation Cory's mental illness had brought us for the last three years.  Turns out, he was right...your heart will always question the reality.  And argue.  If not in your waking hours, definitely while you sleep.

The other night I had one of those incredible dreams in which Cory is home and fine, the accident never having happened.   It is pure magic.  Bliss.

In this dream, Tim was at work and Jake was sleeping in his room.  Cory and I were watching tv in the living room with snacks- a typical scenario.  What did she look like?  Her walk was the same.  Her eyes were as big and green as I remember.  Her smile lit up the room.  My dreaming brain was hip to the whole accident thing because I kept zeroing in on her arm and how it hung off of her shoulder in a graceful uninterrupted line, no exposed bones jutting out.  I kept checking her forehead and hair, marveling that it was clean, shiny, and free of blood.  In this dream, her hair was a reddish brown with golden highlights. It fell gently just above her shoulders, the bangs casually held back with a couple of bobby pins.   I kept watching her chest rise and fall as she talked to me, actually searching for the movements on the lavender sweater she was wearing.  It was all a dream.  She's fine.  She's fine!!  What an awful dream.

So we were watching something like Law and Order SVU when we heard a high pitched cry coming from outside.  We jumped up and began counting cats, convinced one of them had snuck out.  "Mom, we have to go out there.  What if they get lost like Church did."  I quipped back, "Cory, this is Urbandale! We'll be mugged in our driveway."  She giggled back, "Maybe, but we are Big Brave Dogs.  C'mon, Mom.  We can't leave him out there to be catnapped."

We put on shoes and scrounged up a flashlight and laughing the whole way, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, went outside to investigate.  Just another Mommy/Cory adventure.  Just a regular day.

We made it halfway down our brick driveway when we spied a wriggling little blanket covered bundle lying there.  One of us reached out to pull the blanket back to discover a tiny, shivering, baby.

Weird?  Yes.  You know how dreams can be.  So we scooped it up and took it inside.  We cleaned it up, got it warm, and started foraging for something to feed it.  I watched Cory holding it...a tiny baby girl... and just focused on the dreamy look on her face as she gazed down at is perfect little face.  She touched her finger to its tiny nose, coaxing a smile and asked wistfully, "Do we have to call the cops, Mom?  Couldn't we just keep her?  I'll take care of her."

The craziest dream ever, but looking back, maybe the only chance I'll ever have to see Cory with her very own baby.  Well, an abandoned-about-to-be-turned-over-to-the-authorities-but-Cory's-for-an-hour-or-so-baby.

This much I know.  She would've been a great Mom.  That much I already knew.  All I had to do was watch her with Jake.