Guess what I was doing two years ago today. No cheating. Wow. You totally just cheated.
But yes. We are going right back down this rabbit hole. And fair warning â€“ we likely have many years ahead of us doing the exact same thing. So prepare to tuck and roll folks, itâ€™s gonna be a bumpy ride.
Two years ago today I wandered the halls of a hospital looking for the Labor and Delivery unit. (Which, by the by, they hide on the top floor â€“ that makes no sense.) They hooked me up to machines. And we waited. And then I was admitted. It didnâ€™t look good.
I still vividly remember Dr. Meyer shaking his head at me. â€œNot viable.â€ He was not a doctor who gave me warm fuzzies.
It was April 22. I was 22 weeks pregnant.
Iâ€™m not superstitious. I donâ€™t believe spooks and spirits are out to get me. (Although the cafetorium theatre at my high school was TOTALLY haunted; Iâ€™ll tell you about Agnes another day. And as a friend so sweetly stated, â€œThere is normal paranoia, and then there’s you.â€ My paranoia is perfectly normal, thankyouverymuch.) But I digress. So, in short: Paranoid â€“ yes. Superstitious â€“ no.
â€œJust because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.â€ (Catch-22)
However, apparently the number 22 has a sinister way of rearing its ugly head with my family.
I learned about this familial Friday 13 the day G.G. died. January 22.
Twenty years to the day prior, January 22, Aunt Margaret passed away. Weird. But two decades â€“ thatâ€™s just an odd coincidence.
Two years ago, February 22. Baby C became the muppets guardian angel. The two friends that knew that day sent flowers.
March 22 is GrandpaStavoâ€™s birthday. Even though heâ€™s old, weâ€™re going to count this 22 as a positive. Also, Grandma Nancy was 22 when she had Jon. So clearly itâ€™s not a completely ominous number.
And in fact, May 22 is the date of my grandparents trust. Because itâ€™s like they knew someone would point out super sucky 22 trivia and they wanted to send a sign from above noting, â€œDonâ€™t panic; we got your back.â€
But it was two years ago today. Already. We look back on that, as the twins are just about to turn two.
â€œInsanity is contagious.â€ (Catch-22)
Twenty-two. 22. Just in case Iâ€™ll be in my bunker with my tinfoil hat. At least I got held in cell 5 those two years ago. Thatâ€™s my lucky number. This is what I was thinking when I climbed into the helicopter tonight for a two hour flyover of the Silicon Valley.
What weird symbols or legends do you find popping up in your family lore?