Perfect Timing

I love a birthday. I was one of those women who counted backwards, wondering what month would be best to try for a baby so they would have a good birthday. I’m a planner, after all, and I got lots of validating input for this particular neurosis:

“Having a birthday anytime after mid-June is so tough because they will be out of school and their friends won’t be able to come to their birthday parties!”

“Think about the advantage they’d have in sports if they’re the oldest kid in their class.”

“I was miserable being so pregnant and hot in the summer! Good call to try and avoid that.”

And ideally, they wouldn’t be born in October, since that was my birthday month. What a brat I have been to worry about sharing a birthday when I already share mine with one of my close older cousins, who has only ever made it feel special to feel connected in this way.

I found out that I was pregnant in October 2025, around my Dad’s birthday. My baby’s estimated due date was June 13th. Ah, now that felt like perfect timing.

I moved through the fatigue, nausea, and changes of my first trimester wearing big, comfy sweaters and resting in the coziness of fall. I did my pregnancy reveals at Christmas, wrapping up themed gifts and ringing in the new year thinking about the newest addition to our family. As winter turned into spring, we had our baby shower and babymoon and readied ourselves for our best summer and adventure yet: becoming parents and welcoming our baby home.

When Nathan was born at 31 weeks, it felt like an audible record scratch, but we were so overjoyed to meet our little cutie. We started moving moment by moment the second my water broke and continued that way through the hours of not knowing what would happen, my emergency C-section, and finally meeting him in the NICU.

When he seemed stable, squeezing Jordan’s fingers and responding to our voices, we sent out the first few messages about his birth.

We received a very encouraging response from one of Nathan’s uncles, one of our closest friends whose birthday was that same day: 

“April 11th is a great birthday, springs in bloom, vibes trending up everywhere, and the whole summer lying ahead of you!! Happy to share with your little miracle!”

I had spent months picturing my baby being born in June, on the 13th, to be exact. As soon as our baby arrived, April 11th became the birthday that mattered. It was unexpected, early, and immediately perfect because it was Nathan’s.

When Nathan died, every part of what we had considered perfect timing changed meaning. Dates were no longer things I could arrange neatly around birthday parties, school years, or summer plans. Dates suddenly became markers of meaning, time passing without my baby, and grief that arrived whether I was ready or not.

The second half of April was a blur. Jordan’s parents were in the countryside of France, thinking they could enjoy a month away comfortably, knowing our baby was due in two months. Instead, their trip ended abruptly and stressfully two weeks in, hearing mostly by text:

Jess is in labour. Jess had a baby boy.

His middle name is George, after Papa. (Jordan’s maternal grandfather).

Nathan is continuing to get monitored and we have a plan for some extra care. Ryan and Kate (Jordan’s brother and sister) are visiting today.

Then: Please call. Please call. Please call us. Please call. Please call. Please call.

We had family, friends, and our midwives visiting almost every day in those early days. In some ways, it looked like the early days I had imagined: people coming to our home, checking on us, and wanting to meet the newest member of our family. Except our baby wasn’t there to meet them.

One week in May brought one relentless date after another:

May 10th: Mother’s Day.

May 11th: Nathan’s one-month birthday.

May 12th: Jordan brought Nathan’s ashes home.

May 13th: We had Nathan’s funeral.

So, for May 14th, I booked a nice lady with a mobile spa to come to my home for a much-needed pedicure and facial. To say, “What a week!” would be an understatement.

We also intentionally scheduled our first of ten grief counselling sessions with Canuck Place Children’s Hospice to help us process that week. We have continued with couples counselling and our own individual counselling ever since and talking out our experience has helped us immensely.

Through May and June, we very purposefully made no-pressure plans. We resumed our monthly dinner club with our best friends. Once I was cleared to drive again post-C-section, I booked a hair appointment as a treat. I returned to workout classes to sweat out some of my feelings.

We acknowledged in our grief counselling that anticipation and dread for date markers were sometimes worse than the actual events of the day itself. I wasn’t sure how we were going to feel once June 13th arrived. 

When it did, we called it “opposite day” and ate tons of raw sushi at a restaurant recognized by the MICHELIN Guide. It was a callback and contrast to the duck dinner we had at a MICHELIN-starred restaurant to celebrate finding out that I was pregnant. On June 13th, instead of giving birth, I sat with my husband eating everything I was allowed to eat because I was no longer pregnant. We were parents that day, but without our child earthside.

Moving into July brought some relief. The month we had spent planning for had finally passed. I joked that Nathan was out there in the universe wondering what all the fuss in June was about when he had clearly established April as his month. For the first time in a while, there were no immediate Hallmark holidays or date markers waiting for us, and summer brought plans we could choose to look forward to.

In the message we shared when Nathan died, we asked our loved ones to help us hold the happy alongside the sad. As the months moved forward, we began to see this reflected in the plans that became possible because of our changed timeline. Jordan’s grandma had died in January, but her church service and burial were scheduled for May. We were able to travel and be with family for these special moments, which we would not have been able to join if I had still been 38 weeks pregnant.

Our dear friends’ wedding in September brought new considerations too. I had originally expected to stay home with the baby while Jordan attended. After Nathan died, I briefly wondered whether I should still stay home because going would make it too painful to consider what I was supposed to be doing instead. Eventually, we decided to attend together, turn the trip into a road trip, and let ourselves look forward to the celebration.

We celebrated Jordan’s Mom’s 65th birthday in Whistler, and the whole family had moments of remembering Nathan while we were there. During that trip, Jordan and I snuck away for a Mom and Dad happy hour, toasting our boy over oysters at our favourite restaurant, with my first drink since September 2025.

The adventure we had planned for June and beyond disappeared, but the calendar did not stop making room for other people’s milestones or ours. I could be grateful to be present for those moments and still hate the reason I was able to be there. 

I’ve heard, “There’s never a perfect time to have a baby,” and now I completely agree. We were ready for a baby to come in June, and we became ready the moment Nathan came to us in April. It’s so wrong how little time we were given with him, but there was no wrong time for him to enter our lives. He made us parents, and there is nothing imperfect about that.