Sunday afternoon, we dressed in our blue and watched a scoreless first half followed by a nail-biting second half that ended with the Giants taking on a win against the Patriots. The commentators made several references to this being the first time the two teams had met since the 2008 Super Bowl, when the underdog Giants won against the undefeated Patriots.
Peter and I had watched football rarely prior to that Super Bowl. Laying in the hospital, cradling our dead son and praying for our daughter who was hanging on for life in the womb, we watched that game tick away... And, as insane as it may be, I clung to that game as though my life- and Sophia's-depended on it.
|2008 Super Bowl|
Just as the commentators talked about the Giants having no chance against the undefeated (and, according to them, much better) Patriots, the doctors were telling us that we had no chance to leave the hospital pregnant... That Sophia would be born in hours... That we should prepare for her death in utero if we refused induction... Somehow, hearing those odds didnt bother me nearly as much as hearing that the Giants, whose season wasnt Patriot beating worthy, were going to lose. They couldnt lose... Not if we were going to walk out of the hospital pregnant... Not if Sophia would have longer... Not if, not if, not if... In my mind, the two became somehow linked. The Giants would win... And we would go home... I wasnt sure how much time we'd have but I just wanted more of it... a second, a moment, anything... two weeks...
When the Giants won- and they did win- I remember breathing a sigh of relief and simly believing that things would be okay for the moment.
On Sunday night, as we watched the two teams meet up again- this time with Bobby and Maya cheering them on in their adorable Giants shirts- I was struck with a lump in my throat... There were tears... There were questions... (Why did that game in '08 bring me such relief? Why did that one night change so much?) We watched, we cheered, and ultimately, our team won! (although the last 2 minutes were pretty harrowing!). It was a sense of deja vu as well as a sense of awe to be watching this game... with Bobby and Maya...
|Giants VS Patriots, 11/6/11|
Whenever the Giants kicker, #9 (Tynes), came on the field, Maya would yell "NINE!!!" and clap. My jersey is for Jacobs, #27, so she also has a fun time reading the back of it (seven is her favorite number). Bobby would do a dance during touchdowns (he has an adorable Irish jig he performs for us...River Dance here we come!!) and whenever I would cheer, he would cheer with me and applaud. (He also, much to Daddy's chagrin with the no-tv-touching rule, can identify Eli Manning #10 on the screen... Not that I was proud and not telling him not to touch the tv or anything...) When the TV came on, Maya pointed and shouted her traditional "FOOTBALL!!!!!" (which she also yells whenever we are outside and she picks up the football to play with the trees... Yes, my daughter "plays" football with the trees outside... And it's hysterical!)
It was insane... In a good way... In a nostalgic way... In a my-heart-is-full sort of way... And it really is...
It'd be interesting to see Jess watching a game with Bobby and Maya, us being from Boston and all. Jess is quite enthusiastic about our local teams and very vocal (although hockey is her fav).
Reading this post made my heart feel full too. It was lovely to read about Bobby and Maya's reaction to the game and heartbreaking to read your reflection on that other game and your dear Sophia xoxo
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