My Life After Loss

Catholic Preschool in Review (HHB)

2012-01-28T02:26:00.000-05:00

See original post here

To catch up on our previous two preschool visits, you can click here to read about our visit to the Friend's preschool and click here to read about our visit to the Montessori preschool.

As some history... We are Catholic (no secret) and attend 3 different churches regularly. We visit the Shrine monthly, where Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander (as well as P's brother, Robert) have candles and we usually have lunch after Mass (Sophia's favorites!). Of the other Masses each month, we attend 2-3 at "our" parish, the Catholic church that we've attended for years, where Bobby and Maya were baptized and the other children have memorials, and where we've been extremely active. The remaining 1-2, we attend at our local parish. It's not that we don't like the local church; it's nice. But SMG is home... We've been there for years, know people, and have a relationship with our priests. It's a warm place... It's home. We've cut down on our ministries since our time is needed with Bobby and Maya at home, but I still cantor there, Peter and I are involved in PreCana, and I may be getting involved in the RCIA program for a bit. But, at the same time, we support being active in our local parish. They have a playgroup that we used to attend until the kids started visiting their grandparents on that day (but I'm thinking about getting more involved with, even if we only stay for the first hour and then head out to the grandparents), their adoration chapel is 24/7, and the priests we've met have all been friendly. They still have a convent, and there is a sister in the kindergarten class! So, it's a good parish, too, and we know that it's possible we may be transferring our membership there at some point in the (near) future, but I'm getting ahead of myself...

We toured the preschool today (Thursday). Of all the ones we've visited, the security was best here. (I know I harp on security, but it's a big deal to me... I'm not altogether comfy with having my kids without me in another, unfamiliar environment... even if it is only 2 mornings a week!). I'm sure that part of that fact is that it is a "real" school; instead of being a preschool in a church, it is a K-8 parochial school that expanded to include a preschool. So, the security is that of a real elementary school. And, even though someone went into the school just prior to us, she made sure the door was shut so that we would have to buzz. I liked that. It gave me a sense of this staff person taking the security of the hundreds of children inside seriously.

As we got there, they were doing a monthly fire drill. Again, I like this. I like that they are prepared and that they timed the kids! (Once a year, the fire marshall comes and does a timed drill, in accordance with state standards). We saw the kids walk nicely out, including the 3 year olds! I was impressed. After the kids came back inside, our tour began.

The preschool area has their own secure/locked entrance. If kids are late, they come to the main entrance, but for normal drop off and pick up, teachers are there to greet kids and help get them squared away when it is time to go home. It's 2 mornings a week, like the Quaker program, so it's a good comparison.

There is one classroom with two teachers. Once a week, the kids experience a half hour of gym with the PE teacher. Once a week, the librarian comes to the classroom for a storytime and library visit. Once a week, the music teacher comes to the classroom for a music "class" (15 minutes or so). And each day, one of the teachers does art with them. Their morning starts off with playing, followed by prayer and religious instruction. (The school has a prayer room, where Mass takes place and where a weekly Rosary is said. While I'm sure preschoolers normally dont attend these, when the kids are older, it is an option for them as part of their school day). They have a snack and their "educational" instruction focuses on numbers, letters, days of the week, months of the year, etc. They have circle time and "station" time, where the room has different tables of play/instruction that the kids select to participate in (very Montessori like). The teachers are all state certified teachers, and many have their Masters. The school also has 2 learning support classrooms, where the student-teacher ratio is small and children who need assistance can have extra help. The teachers are both Masters degreed, and they divide the children by lower level and upper level grades.

The school is divided by grades as well. The preschool kids (and their bathroom) is in one section, the 1st-3rd graders have their own area (and bathrooms), as do the 4th-6th graders and the 7th-8th graders. I liked that as well. The preschool area is closest to the youngest grades. The student-teacher ratio changes based on grade level, but for the 3 year olds, there were 13 registered kids (there were 10 there today) and 2 teachers. The teacher we primarily spoke with teaches the 3 yo class as well as the 3-day 4yo program, so she gave us some information about the 4yo class as well.

While we were there, the kids were snacking, but Bobby and Maya were invited to play on the alphabet rug, which they LOVED. And the teacher was impressed that Bobby knew (and was reciting) all of his ABCs (too bad she missed Maya singing the ABC song this morning!).

There was definitely a good feeling while we were there, and added to it was the feeling that I get whenever I'm in a Catholic or Orthodox church... I cant explain it, but it's just this feeling of peace and holiness.

Because of the recent changes in the Archdiocese with schools, our local parish school will be joined by kids from a neighboring parish that is losing their school. Because of that, they are only going to be able to accept families from the local parish and this neighboring parish, which means that we will need to technically transfer our membership from our parish in a nearby town to the local parish, and become more active in our local church. I plan to remain as a cantor at SMG because I love it so much (and I love our music director, who is also my Confirmation sponsor), but I think the other ministries we've been involved with will slowly become ministries at the local parish (as the kids get older and we get more involved). This is something we'll be discussing this weekend as well as we make the decision about which preschool to submit an application to.

A lot of things to think about! But, we've visited the 3 schools on our list, have ruled 1 out already, and have 2 really good schools to choose from. So now, it's time to pray, reflect, think, talk, and choose!

Intention to Run

2012-01-27T01:15:00.000-05:00

Well, it's as official as I can make it, I suppose... I'm running... a marathon. The Marine Corps Marathon to be exact, and I'll be doing it as a member of Team Lemon, the running team for the Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation. As you may remember from a previous post, Peter and I bid on (and won) a package at the Lemon Ball, that included a spot on Team Lemon at the marathon level.

I've never run 26 miles... I havent run over 14 miles! I'm a bit nervous... But, as Peter says, I can do it. It's 90% mental. (which is why I know that the terror I feel has nothing to do with how long my legs can run!)

Sarah and I are planning to do Broad Street this year, which is 10 miles. I'm not worried about that at all! (It still amazes me that I feel that way...) I didnt really have a hardcore training plan for the half; I'm guessing I should start working out some sort of distance plan if I hope to be ready to run 26 miles by the end of October! Like I said, I know that I can do it; it's about wanting to do it. And I do.

Really.

Nov 1st of this year will mark 25 years since Robert has been gone. 25 years since his parents hugged him. Since Peter laughed with him. It's a long time. February marks 4 years since Nicholas and Sophia were born and died, and it's been 4 of the most bittersweet of my life; I cant even look to 25 years and wonder how I will feel.

Robert's my running buddy; I often feel him with me. Which may sound odd, since I never met Robert in this life. But his presence is a constant in our family.

When I did the triathlon, I relied on his strength- and that of my own children- to get me through the hardest spots (like that swim!) So, I know that it will be the same for this marathon. One mile for every year he's been gone... 25 miles... And that last mile: it's for the folks that were left behind. For Peter... For his parents. For all of us who never got to see his smiling face or hear his infectious laugh in real time. Who know him from pictures and videos and the memories of those who loved him so.

Read Robert's Hero Story at ALSF here

I'd like to raise $2500 to commemorate this quarter century since his passing. A hundred dollars for each year he's been gone. In the shower yesterday morning, I figured out that if ten thousand people gave 25 cents, I'd reach my goal... If 1000 people give $1, I'll reach my goal... If 100 people give $25, I'll reach my goal. I know it may sound insane, but this is something I'd like to be able to give my in-laws as we gather around the table on November 1st this year: a card listing however many people it takes who helped us reach the goal of $2500 dedicated to researching childhood cancer (neuroblastoma if you want to make your gift specific) in Robert's memory on the 25th anniversary of his death. So many of us have lost a child, and we know how much it matters to have our child's name said, to have them remembered, to have a keepsake of love from strangers who share our pain and our journey. Times are tough- I know... But I can find a quarter when I go through jeans to toss in the laundry... And I can find $25 if I refuse 5 coffee dates with lattes at $5 a pop. So, I know it's a lot to ask- I really do- but can you find a quarter? A dollar? $25 or more? If you can, and I greatly appreciate you thinking about it, I can tell you that it matters. No matter how much your gift is, to a child (and a family) battling cancer, it is a GREAT gift. Click here to donate. (There will also be a link to this page until the Marathon on my sidebar). (Want to Text a $10 donation that is automatically billed to your wireless account? Simply text LEMONADE E79983 to 85944!)

So, this year, on October 28th, as we approach that 25 year mark, I'll be running. In his memory. And with his spirit. And, if you would, run with me: by lacing up your shoes for a mile, by pouring out your spirit in prayer for all those children suffering, or by donating to ALSF in Robert's memory.

Repeat Attack

2012-01-26T12:48:00.000-05:00

I received a comment on my last post that I've opted not to publish, since it violated the aforementioned comment rule of respect in disagreement. However, there was one thing that the commenter said that has stuck out in my mind.

"How can you call yourself a survivor? If you really gave a damn, you'd understand that a raped woman has every right to terminate that spawn and move on with her life without a constant reminder of the f***er that raped her."

Always enlightening to be referred to as a "spawn"; I am imagining that the person writing that comes from a place of hurt, perhaps from a place of an assault that left her pregnant, and that, possibly, she had an abortion to get rid of the "spawn" she felt she was carrying. For me, I'm grateful every day that my biological mother's first abortion attempt failed and that she didn't try for one at a later gestation. But, that is beside the point.

I've been both molested and raped. Sexual assault leaves a mark on the survivor that never goes away. I consider myself a fairly whole person at this point, and even with that, as I've read more on the topic of sexual behavior and pregnancy as it relates to survivors of assault, I'm reminded of the marks I bear. And, at the same time, I have to remind myself of the ones I dont. For the longest time, I couldnt see a female doctor. Not because they are inferior (in fact, I love most of the ones I've encountered), but because I couldnt allow a woman to touch me intimately. I can see now that it was a response to a same-sex molester; but at the time, I never thought about the reasons why. I didnt even like female massage therapists! Again, too much, too close, too intimate. It wasn't until I built a relationship with a midwife through a friend that I found a place of trust in that most intimate area of my body, and felt that I could trust a woman with that trust. In time, I had female massage therapists and GPs. (although my first female GP was a response to not liking the male docs in that particular practice!). My current GP is a woman and, although I see Dr. B. (whose a man), Dr. L is a woman and I still see the aforementioned midwife. But it took time. Years. Over a decade. And the molester died long before, but I still had that...feeling I suppose, deep inside. And, it's something I'm still working through. Anyone whose been through a Pap or IF treatments (or even a routine gyno appt) knows the importance of "relaxing". That's one that I didnt work through until recently, male or female care provider.

I can say that, with the exception of building a healthy sexual relationship, which took time and trust, the flashbacks and repercussions of the rape dont seem as long lasting- until I look at my control-freak tendencies, split hair anger issues, and desire to see and look all my exit strategies. But, in that I didnt conceive a pregnancy, the commenter hits the nail that I dont know what it is like to look down and see a belly growing with the child of my attacker. I'm grateful for that.

But, looking back at my former self, I can still see that an abortion wouldnt have been my answer. It would have been a dual scenario of being raped again and of being the attacker. The baby in that scenario had no role in his/her conception... They wouldnt have been responsible for what brought them into being. They, like I was, would be having their choices taken from them, and would be the victim in an assault... An assault where the victim and now survivor is also the attacker. On top of that, I think that I would have felt like I was being raped again: a submissive, passive "patient" on whom a procedure of violence was being carried out. The scene itself, the hidden faces of the "doctors"/"attackers", the feelings of pain, the after effects- I dont know that an abortion after rape wouldnt have left me more scar, not less so. Estimations are in the range of 75% of raped mothers choosing not to abort, which leads me to ask if other survivors have similar feelings as mine?

As to raising the baby? I know that there are many women that do, and do so well and with love, seeing in their child the part of themselves that their child carries. It's beautiful. While I could do that today, as an adult, and with a supportive family, I know that the me of all those years ago would have placed her child for adoption. I was a teenager... And, although I think my family would have supported me however they could have, I dont think that I was emotionally stable enough to raise a child (both because of my young age- I was 14- but also because of my 'survivor recovery').

Do I think that it is anti-survivor to be anti-abortion in cases of rape or incest? No, I dont. If anything, I think that someone who pushes for an abortion after an assault, without taking into any account the true emotional toll it might take, is way more anti-survivor. As Leah mentioned in her comment to my previous post, abortion is a hard topic and one that, most likely, every single person in the world will not agree on. But, in saying that, this is my response to the question posed (rhetorical though it was most likely intended).

I can say honestly that, over 2 decades since any molestation and moving towards 2 decades since I was assaulted that many of the memories and the emotional pain have subsided. I know, however, that there are after effects that come up in the smallest of ways... Things that, until recently, I couldnt put on one particular thing and now, after thinking about it, realize they are lingering aftereffects.

Every action has a reaction, every choice a consequence. I try, these days, to acknoweldge the things I can't change and to make positive choices for the things I can. But there are days where that is a struggle. I'm lucky that I have Peter and a supportive network to help carry men when I cant walk, and to pick up the pieces when I fall apart.

***
Resources
* I highly recommend: When Survivors Give Birth (Simkin) if you are struggling through pregnancy after molestation or assault, whether it happened 9 months ago or 9 years ago or forever ago... It's an expensive book, but it is well worth it. I can tell you that reading it opened doors into myself that I didnt know existed, to the extent that Peter is now reading the book as well.
* Dont be ashamed to get help. Regardless of when the abuse happened, it's never too late to regain yourself. There are therapists who specialize in sexual trauma who can help you on your journey.
* Reach out. Groups like RAINN are there to help you get through the memories and find yourself on the other side- in a positive way.

A Tragedy All Around

2012-01-24T13:52:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, I posted the following picture as a status update on Facebook, in solidarity with all those marching in D.C. for the annual March for Life, and in memory of those who never will.

I'm pro-life; that's no secret. Anyone who reads my blog knows that. Peter and I served several years as the chairs of our Parish's Respect Life Committee, and we've worked with local maternity homes and pregnancy crisis centers; we fundraise, we give, we support, and in this most recent years, we've come close and face-to-face with mothers who've aborted and who are considering abortion.

Prior to meeting these mothers, my thoughts, both as an infertile and as a mother who had lost children, weren't exactly nice. I was probably like most pro-lifers, I suppose: the baby is the most important part of the equation, they are already here (not some thought about idea) and they need a voice, do whatever you can to convince the mother to carry to term, etc. (And I'm not being flippant, but I'm sure you know where I'm going with this). I was angry that someone would kill their child. I didnt care why. I was just pissed off. Especially since my babies had died... because I couldnt just look at a man and get pregnant. It wasn't fair. And, I reasoned (although I'm pretty damn ashamed to admit it) that, if the Universe had some dead-child quota to fill, then why not one of those mothers who didnt want her baby in the first place.... Why take my perfect, innocent, wanted and loved babies?

Like I said, it's a shameful thought. I'm ashamed. But I'm being honest. And that thought was there.

The last year especially, though, brought some deep rooted changes. Instead of just saying "Dont kill your baby", we put our family where our mouth is and offered another option: adoption. I'm adopted. I'm a child of attempted abortion, and I'm a child of rape. It's a place that hits home. As an assault survivor, hearing the stories of women who've been victimized and become pregnant as a result also has left a mark on me. But something that has left an even deeper impression on me is that so many mothers who are given real choices- choices that are more than simply killing the baby growing inside of them- make different choices.

We as a society are failing them, these mothers (and fathers) who feel like their only choice is death. And not just the death of their baby, but also the death of something inside of them: something deeply personal and unique because they've made a choice they cant change and one that, in so many ways, they were coerced into making. So many women, overcome by the fear of what might be... Without support... Without income or housing or education... They find themselves pregnant (through one way or another) and abortion seems like the logical, easy choice to some, and to others, feels like the only way out.

I've talked to moms, seen them face to face... Heard them express every sort of "get this thing out of me" type of comment... I've seen them continue pregnancies, knowing that there is another family there to support them and raise their child if they can't do it when the time comes... Having that trust and continuing a pregnancy that they initially wanted to end... Seeing their baby born and deciding to parent. Knowing that, no matter their choice, they would be changed forever and, seeing in their newborn's face, the reality that, no matter what, it was worth it all for this little person.

And it doesnt stop there. A huge criticism of the pro-life movement (and one that I've seen played out over and over again) is that people only care about the baby, not the mother (or father). Save the baby and then who cares! But there are so many crisis pregnancy centers and maternity homes that do so much more, ranging from providing baby products, arranging housing, and garnering financial assistance for families struggling to get back on their feer to getting parents enrolled in classes to complete high school, garner college credits, or better their parenting. Their are rehab programs for parents who need it, and volunteers to assist parents in filling out government assistance paperwork, should they need it.

It's not easier than an abortion, but somehow I think the life-altering emotional side effects might not be nearly as bad.

I've met women, too, who say that they dont regret their abortions. Who am I to argue? There are plenty of decisions I've made that I dont regret; I guess the only person who has the right to tell me if I should is the Great Spirit. Since I believe all sins are equal, I think that the smallest to the greatest are all things we are held accountable for.

But I've also talked with women who deeply regret their abortions. Who wish, over and over again, that they could change that "choice"... That they could have had real, concrete choices placed before them that didnt involve the taking of another's life.

I cant speak for all the CPCs out there: I dont know what they are doing. I hope that they are treating parents with dignity and offering them a variety of options with the emphasis being on supporting them in their roles as parents (because they are, already, parents, regardless of whether or not they abort). I hope that they arent using scare techniques to try and convince them to not-abort at all costs. I hope that, instead, they are finding out the reasons why they feel that choice is the only one they have. More often than not, in my experience, issues are financial or mothers are being pressured (either by their own parents or their partners). No choice should be a result of coercion. And, as one of the wealthiest countries in the world, a choice so grave shouldnt be based on finances... Not when there are ways to keep families together.

And adoption? It's a two edged sword. I believe it should be there, that option. But, at the same time, from personal experience, it's a hard place to be. Because the goal is unification (similar to foster parenting). You have to want the mother/parents to choose to parent at the end of the day. At the same time, you have to fall in love with that child and give them everything you would give a child you were carrying: your devotion, your love, your prayers and thoughts. You have to prepare for them to come home and be okay when they dont. I can understand while fellow infertiles and orphaned parents think Peter and I are crazy... It hurts. It's a lot of pain. There are a lot of tears. Three times, we've been in this spot... This place of loving the parents and the babies... Praying for them, offering them support in whatever ways we can, encouraging them. And accepting- with joy- their choice to parent their babies. Congratulating them, promising them that the Center we work with will be there to help them along the way (because it works with parents and their babies every single day to make sure that a life-affirming choice is a positive one). And then, we work on our own broken hearts. Because, no matter how happy you are for that family, you are also sad for your own. It's different than our losses because we know these babies are okay (and we get updates, which is nice and it is so good to hear that things are going well). But, as you know from reading previous posts, there's sorrow. And emotionally, it takes a toll. I mentioned recently that we'd been contacted about another adoption via the Center and, after counseling and assistance, the parents have decided, prebirth, to keep their family together and parent. It's a great choice and one we are happy about, but the state of flux does do a number to your inner peace, and so we are taking a break from the active role of possible adoptive family. There are others available, so it isnt as though this option is gone for parents, but for now, our role is to pray and support in other ways... And to focus on Bobby and Maya and each other for a bit.

I started this post because, as I think about the March for Life in DC and abortion in this country, to me it is more than the statistic that over 54 million babies have died since abortion became legal in this country. It's more than the tag line that Planned Parenthood kills more people of color than groups like the KKK. It's not just a sound bite. Because something I think we all can agree upon is that abortion has consequences- not just to the baby- but to the parents. Some of those consequences may be positive, but no one can deny that some of them are awful. How can we look ourselves in the mirror each day and not feel for the parents who have been faced with such a tragic "choice"? How can we not want to reach out to all of them, with healing arms, and say that we will help them? With all of our goverment programs and private poverty-fighting organizations, how can we tell a mother that to save herself from the financial burden, she must kill her child? With all of the educational options, how can we tell parents that, in order to further their education, they must cause their child to cease to exist? Assaults, incest, marital rape: how is it that in our "advanced" society we are still blind to the fact that over 200,000 assaults happen a year, with almost half of those happening to children under the age of 18 (and 80% to those under the age of 30)? That 1 out of every 6 women (and 1 out of every 33 men) in this country is a survivor of assault? (an those numbers are way lower than they were 20 years ago) An estimated 3,000 pregnancies occur yearly from assault; when we view that in light of the well over a million abortions that take place each year, well... It's thought provoking to say the least.

We are a developed country. We have countless programs of social service at the government level, and a variety of charitable organizations that are in place to help the disadvantaged and those in need. And yet... the option we are left with is death? I just cant see it...

And honestly, I dont want to.

It's hard to talk to women who grieve babies they had a hand in killing. I get that. For an orphaned mother, it's painful when we think that we didnt have such a "choice", that our baby's death was inflicted upon us. I've had moms who I talk to in support type settings ask point blank if mothers who aborted are going to participate in support groups or in Face2Face meetings... because they are outraged that such women should have the right to grieve. They did it to themselves, after all!

A mother's grief... It's still a mother's grief. Perhaps, in some ways, if we have to judge whose grief is greater, the abortive mother's grief is deeper... Because, as is pointed out, they had the choice- and they chose their baby's death. If she's grieving that loss- for whatever reason- she still needs to grieve it, just as we grieve ours.

Reflecting on abortion, I'm sickened by the loss of life: the babies, the mothers who die during the procedure, as well as the fathers who are never told of their children and are refused the chance to parent them, the grandparents who will never hold their grandchild, the mothers who will never mother. It breaks my heart that the only choice people are being given isnt really a choice; it's a travesty. Are we asking why? Are we offering all the choices available?

Mother Theresa made more than a few references to abortion in her work, but the three most awe-inspiring, for me at least, are the following. "It is poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish." "Any country that accepts abortion is not teaching its people to love, but to use violence to get what it wants." "If we accept that the mother can kill her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another." Smart woman... I think. I'm amazed by how we can be pro-animal rights, anti-war, anti-death penalty, and pro-abortion. Anti-the rich and powerful who are using their money to get whatever they want (no matter the cost), but pro-it's okay to abort because kids are expensive. (and they are- no doubt.)

"...a child must die so that you may live as you wish..." That one really sticks out... If I am you and you are me and we are all one on some deeper, cosmic level... How then can I let you suffer? How can I let so much hurt be in the world so that I can have what I want? How can the choice you are left with be one of death so that I can live in a way that is pleasing to me? Why cant we all live? Why cant we all love?

A lot of thoughts today, I suppose... That's what happens when I have too much time to think.

A note about commenting: I dont mind thoughts different from my own, be they pro-life or pro-choice, but intolerance and nastiness wont be tolerated. If you are disrespectful, your comment wont be published. And that goes for both sides of the fence. Respectful disagreement=okay; offensive meanness=not okay

Date Day

2012-01-24T01:51:00.000-05:00

On Sunday, Jan 15th, Peter and I spent a lovely afternoon 'dating'. :) I once said that I didnt want to be one of those parents who had kids only to get sitters so that I could have an evening out. But, at the time, I didnt realize that there is a huge difference between "Mama" and "Michele". I love being "Mama", but "Michele" needs time to reconnect with "Peter" outside of his being "Daddy". Having a good, strong marriage makes us better parents. And we are extremely lucky to have people in our lives who understand that, and who go out of their way to give us time to just be "Peter and Michele" for a few hours. Our thoughts are never far from our children, but, for a few hours, we have time to reconnect, like we did that first night nearly 14 years ago, and just be us... together.

Peter's mom and Sarah came over to be on baby-duty, and we dressed up (me in one of my new Shabby Apple frocks!) to head out to lunch, spend the day, and then dinner.

We went to a (formerly) local hangout (now in the next town over since we moved) for brunch, then headed to Mr. B's for coffee and conversation. (It's so strange being there now, sans kiddos, since I'm so used to being in the jungle gym area!). We talked and drank locally roasted coffee, and just hung out. Then, we went to the orchard we frequent for a wine tasting (and a few bottles!), before popping into the bookstore and heading to dinner at our FAVORITE Italian place. Dinner was perfect, and then it was off to our home- and bath time! Nothing beats getting home in time for bath and bedtime ritual!

Of course, this story wouldnt be complete without a mention of the NY Giants!

The game was on and we were (I'll admit it) interested. Well, in the restaraunt, so was everyone else! Including a grandma who came in and gave us the score (it was 20-10, NYs favor). What a riot! (We won that game and are now going on to play SF to decide whose going to the Super Bowl!)

Year of the Dragon

2012-01-23T09:03:00.001-05:00

Happy Lunar New Year!!!

Making Lemon Out of Lemonade

2012-01-23T02:58:00.000-05:00

In early January, we were honored to receive an invitation to attend the 5th Annual Lemon Ball, a fundraising gala for Alex's Lemonade on Saturday, January 14th. When we'd first received info about the Ball, we'd joked about attending, but knew that the tickets were a bit out of our price range. So, imagine our surprise when we were contacted by ALSF with the offer of complimentary tickets. (When top name sponsors, like Bacardi or Volvo, donate their tickets back to the event, they are given to "hero families".) We first offered them to Peter's parents; as Robert's parents, we felt like they deserved to have first dibs. They declined (it was a late night event) but Uita (P's mom) offered to babysit so that we could go. Sarah came on board as a second pair of hands. Now, why is this an even bigger deal than normal? The two of them had already volunteered to hang with the kids on Sunday, so that we could have a date afternoon/night. Not only were they willing to watch the kids for Saturday, but they were okay with doing day #2! (which turned out to be uber hard on Mama and Daddy, who didnt get to spend a lot of the weekend with the kids, but was nice in that we got some much loved Michele & Peter time)

The event is black tie (or slightly less, since men are invited to wear suits or tuxs, and you dont have to wear a floor length gown, tea length is fine and, for some women, apparently miniskirts do indeed come in formal wear! Not on this butt!), so we dressed up. It gave me an excuse to wear my Christmas finery again, and I love Peter in a suit (note to self: get that man a 3 piece suit. He'll give Neal Caffrey a run for his money!)

This is actually from Christmas, but apparently the photos from before we left for the Lemon Ball were lost; but these are the outfits we were wearing!

The event is touching. When we got to the hotel and saw all of the people who turned out to honor a girl who simply wanted to help other kids with cancer by donating money from her lemonade stand, it was lump-in-the-throat inducing. We checked my coat and went into the cocktail hour, where the silent auction was going on. After having a few drinks (lemon drops, anyone?) while walking around the tables, we bid on a few items: a trip to San Francisco (we were quickly outbid on that one), an internship at ALSF (we were outbid on that one as well), and a spot on a Team Lemon (running) event (at the time I didnt know what for) and race gear. I really wanted that one, but at the same time, it's a charity event and I also wanted it to bid up as high as it could. We arent really in the same income bracket as some of those bids (like the uber cool suite seats to a Union game!) but, we were having a nice time, and the money was going to a nice cause. We also bought 2 raffle tickests for a $19K bracelet (one for Bobby and one for Maya) with the idea that while I'm not a ritzy jewelry kind of girl, it would be a nice gift to their college funds!

5 minutes before the cocktails and auction ended, we walked by the tables and, sure enough, we'd been outbid on everything. But that was okay. We walked by some more (like the Tarot party) to see how high the bids had gotten and, as I'm commenting to Peter about a gorgeous ($750) hand carved salad bowl, I turn around to notice that I'm talking to air. I search through the crowd of people and see him... At the table... Writing in another bid...

And, in a few moments, we won me a spot on a Team Lemon race... And not just any race. A marathon! Like 26.2 miles of running!!! The two they listed were the Philly or the Marine Corps, but the paperwork said that I could negotiate a specific race where they have a team. I'm not ashamed to say that I cried. When I started running, I used to wear an icon necklace of Our Lady of Czestochowa that was Robert's. I used to feel like I was running for him... Because he couldnt. Then, there was the running for each of my children who weren't in this world with me. But, Robert's always with me on the runs too... When I was tired during my half in September, I would talk to each of them... And he was there. On that run. Helping me push to the end. And so, to run a full marathon, knowing that I'm on a team that is raising awareness about neuroblastoma and other childhood cancers... It's like running with Robert holding my hand.

But I digress... We were leaving the cocktail ballroom and walking towards the escalators that would take us to the next floor for dinner, when we decided to pause and watch the big screen. Images of previous ALSF events, pics of Alex, and pics of other childhood survivors and heros flashed. And, in the moment we'd stopped, the next picture that flashed, was one of Robert. Smiling up at the camera, surrounded by pumpkins. The last picture before he passed away, and a family favorite. I lost it. It was just too much. When I thanked the Foundation for the tickets, I mentioned this moment, and our contact there said that it was a magical moment because the footage was so long we wouldnt have likely seen Robert's picture again had we missed it that time.

We had dinner, and met some lovely people. A woman and her daughter, who is fighting neuroblastoma, sat next to Peter (and they had won the internship at the auction... so glad); as the mom and I were talking, she mentioned she had twin boys in their teens... and that she'd lost triplets born at 25w. The couple next to me? Their son was diagnosed with neuroblastoma at 18 months... and died at 26 months. It hit hard, not just because they'd lost children- babies- but because I had 28 month olds at home; I missed them terribly and was so grateful that I could go home and snuggle them... And sad because those parents couldnt. That mom and I, we held hands at part of the dinner, and wept with one another. Because it's hard. And it's so damn unfair.

Cancer, like pregnancy loss and IC and infertility, doesnt discriminate. There's no one who 'deserves' to have it; and it sucks. It sucks big time.

Alex's parents spoke and I have yet to not be impressed by these people. I've run with Alex's mom in the Lemon Run and she (and the rest of her family) are just such lovely people who truly are giving all they have to the cause of eradicating childhood cancer. She shared a story that, even now, brings me to tears. They were at the stage where they knew Alex wasnt going to be a survivor and, as she and her daughter were talking, Alex asked her where the money they were raising was going. Her mom explained that it was going to her (Alex's) hospital to try and research neuroblastoma. Alex's response- and this from a young girl- was that that wasn't good enough. The money needed to go to all children's hospitals to research all childhood cancers because all children needed a cure.

Her mom said that, in that moment, all she could think about was I dont care about everyone else. I just want a cure for neuroblastoma... a cure for you! And then she said that, in that moment, her daughter's legacy became clear and she, too, realized that yes, all children need that cure.

The chair of the event, in his opening speech, said that one day, we wont be raising money to find a cure. Because, one day, we will find it. Then, we'll be raising money to figure out a way to stop it altogether so that no child- and no family- has to go through the monster that is cancer. God, I hope he's right. I hope that every dollar we raise when it's Lemon Run time... every dollar we send to places like Sloan-Kettering and ALSF... I hope that one day, somewhere, someone finds a cure. And families dont know what the hell of losing a child to cancer is like. That parents dont mourn a child they'll never watch grow up... That siblings never have to suffer through burying their best friend.

Over $650,000 was raised in one night, in memory of not just that sweet little girl with a dream, but in memory of all those children- including Robert- who have fought the good fight before taking their sweet rest, and in honor of all those who are still fighting, those who have seemingly won and those who feel that their war is almost done. And I'm moved to have been a part of that, in some small way.

Yoga Solstice

2012-01-22T01:51:00.000-05:00

Many moons ago, I was a yoga teacher. Like, that was how I made my living! I traveled to a lot of different places to teach, including a facility for adjudicated youth up near the Poconos, and I taught at a fair amount of local gyms and studios. My knees started to go, we needed more income from my employment, and so I backed away until I wasn't teaching at all. It was a sad thing, but at the same time, other doors opened for me professionally, so I'm not regretful. Ultimately, things led to where they are today and, for that, I'm really grateful.

But I miss teaching. I've kept up and written on yoga and yogic philosophy for magazines like Yoga Magazine and Yoga Living, but it's not the same as giving a class. (And, honestly, I havent even written about yoga in over a year! I barely have time to blog!)

As a part of Mending Heart Bellies, I wanted to offer prenatal classes... But then I thought, why stop there? I kept getting calls about teaching yoga each month (one or two), from folks who'd found my info somewhere (does Google ever get rid of anything???) and so I started talking to Peter about the idea. Why not teach again?

Peter didnt really want me to start the rotation of teaching at gyms, etc again. I did a lot of driving (depending on the location) and, while it was fine when I was doing it 'full time' and wasn't trying to raise kids and keep house, it wouldnt work now. I agree.

But then, just as that window closed, a full fledged door blew open.

I mentioned earlier that we turned the nursery (formerly Maya's room) into a playroom for the kids (I'll blog about the playroom later- it is AWESOME). So, that meant that, in our downstairs large room, we still had the pool table on one side and the other side was empty... I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this...

Studio anyone?

We looked into local ordinances, legal stuff, insurance stuff, etc... Then, we started working to make it happen. Peter and I moved the pool table to the side where we previously had the playroom (which is where the bar is, so it makes more sense to have the pool table there, in my opinion). And, in the blink of an eye, what was formerly a thought became a dream come true... My very own (home) yoga studio! I can comfortably teach 4 students, and can have 6 students should the need arise. I have props and mats. And, to block off the pool table (and 'man area') I have these awesome folding shoji screens. Pretty nice!

You can see all the photos of the studio at the Facebook page.

What makes this space so incredibly awesome is that it has its own bathroom (yay!) and its own entrance. I wouldnt leave the kids alone while teaching, of course, but the idea of being able to lock the upstairs off when I'm teaching a class gives me an added sense of security. And, because it is a small studio, classes are not drop in. (Most of the small studios, like the one where I actually took prenatal yoga when I was pregnant with Alexander (and is also a home-based studio), are not drop in. Space is an issue, but security is as well when you are teaching out of your home!)

So, Yoga Solstice is back! (and you can even like YS on Facebook!) It's wonderful to feel like I'm getting back into something that really touches my soul and inspires me. I've already practiced down there and the space feels so... right.

Thanks to Peter, I've also been able to get some quasi-decent shots of the new space, so enjoy! And, downward dog anyone??? ;)

Christmas 2011

2012-01-21T14:24:00.000-05:00

I'm a bit late, seeing as it is nearly a month after Christmas... But we're just now getting photos loaded... I'll blame Peter for that one.

We had a lovely time. I did post a bit about it on 12/27. We went to my in-laws for Christmas Eve, which was (as always) great.

Maya helped cook...

...while Bobby taught Grandpa how to read...

We had a great evening as family, before we headed off to Mass.

Christmas morning, after I cantored, folks came over for our annual brunch. Sarah and I got a little silly (mimosas anyone???)...

...to Bobby and Aunt Janet making music....

...and Maya fed Aunt Sarah (pretend) food...

By the end of the afternoon, I fell asleep sitting up (no joke)

...before we went to Aunt Janet's for dinner and the monkeys made great use of her loft!

It was a great holiday, and as I look back over the pictures, I am flooded with warm fuzzies. :) You can see all of the Christmas pics at Facebook.

Saying Goodbye to a Legend

2012-01-21T10:36:00.004-05:00

As another preemie mom wrote, this woman's research damn well likely saved Bobby and Maya, as well as countless other premature babies.

---

Mary Ellen Avery, Premature Babies’ Savior, Dies at 84

Dr. Mary Ellen Avery, a medical researcher who helped save hundreds of thousands of premature infants with a single, crucial discovery about their ability to breathe, died on Dec. 4 in West Orange, N.J. She was 84. Read more here

Thank you, Dr. Avery. Godspeed you to a graceful rest in the Land of Eternal Peace.

Friends Preschool Visit in Review (HHB)

2012-01-19T23:10:00.000-05:00

Previously posted here

So, I posted last week about our visit to the local Montessori preschool. As much as I'd hoped to fall in love on the spot, that warm and fuzzy feeling eluded me. The week before that, I'd met a grandfather at the playground. As our kids played together (and we discussed the alarming amount of things we have in common, including their being members of the local Parish), he mentioned that his children and grandchildren all attended (and, in one of the GCs cases, still attend). Because I'd really hoped for the love-connection (and because I'm not super big on the whole idea of preschool anyway), we had planned on interviewing other schools only if we really didnt like the local one and felt called to. Afterwards, I scheduled an appointment with the Friends school, as well as our local Parish's school (which will be a week from Thursday/today).

The Friends School is run by the Quaker faith. Peter and I have a great respect for the Quakers (learn more about them here), so it is actually fitting that we investigated their preschool. And...

WE.LOVED.IT. It was everything we were looking for, from a preschool standpoint.

When I called to make the appointment, I spoke with the director, and found her warm and welcoming (just as she was in person). In addition to inviting us to tour the school and ask questions, etc, she invited the kids personally (for both the Montessori and St. Stan's preschools, I asked if it was alright to bring the kids; she specifically asked me to bring the kids so that they could play, if we felt comfortable doing so). We arrived about a half hour after school had started.

Walking from the parking lot, we were able to see the Kindergarten room (through the windows) and I loved the set up (very much like our home classroom, just bigger and with more stations) and the children seemed to be enjoying themselves. Initially I had the thought of "oh no, not again" when I opened the door, which was unlocked. But immediately, my feelings from our previous tour (where security had been a problem for me) were settled. Before we'd gone 2 steps, the director was greeting us. (I'll talk more about security in a bit).

She was very nice and walked us down to the 3 year old classroom, where she also was gracious to Bobby and Maya, speaking to them by name and inviting them to take off their coats (and hang them on the peg board). And once they were inside the classroom! Oh, how they loved it. The teachers (there were 3 total for 18 kids) were lovely and encouraged them to play as well. The kids had a blast while Peter and I were able to learn more about their program.

Did I mention that we loved it?

One of the things that I loved was that it felt like I was feeding the teachers the answers to my questions. What they said was what we were looking for. They believe that kids learn primarily through play (CHECK), with some formal/structured "class" type things, like Science and Math, thrown in (CHECK), but that at this age, the primary point of preschool should be socialization with other children and exploring the world through play (CHECK CHECK CHECK). The three hours, two to three times a week, isnt meant to replace education at home (CHECK) but is meant to help give the kids time to be kids with others their age (CHECK). I kept nodding and just wanted to say "You're speaking my language!"

The teachers were certified. The one we spoke with primarily also was trained as an occupational therapist, so when I discussed evaluating the kids, she was right there. And my favorite phrase from that talk? "All kids develop at their own pace. It isn't necessarily that a child is exactly at the norm, but that they are developing at a good rate, on the curve that is right for them." YES YES YES. If kids show developmental delays, they notify parents and help arrange therapies to help the child succeed.

I brought up my worries about security and, rather than try and knock them back with a "we havent lost a child yet" type comment, the teacher said "I completely understand. Other parents have asked about that too when they first visit." Because they are Quaker in foundation, they dont lock the doors. And, because they dont lock the doors, they have a deep awareness of when the door opens. We saw that first hand. They teach the kids to be aware of things outside the windows (and not just from a 'boogyman' type standpoint; there's a fair amount of wildlife like deer, so it's actually quite an educational experience, too) and the teacher told us that often the kids will tell them what they see outside (not strangers, thank goodness, just the wildlife thus far!). The teachers also know if they are expecting students or not; and if not, then they are extra vigilent when the door opens. And the director has a view, so she, too, knows when that door opens (and is right there). Honestly, I had the impression that because their isnt a lock, the staff are MORE aware than the previous experience where there was a lock. I mean, that time, we were right in the thick of it and no one batted an eyelash; here, someone greeted us at the door (and there were eyes on us the entire time we were there- I mean that in a good way, not a creepy way). I actually felt more safe. (I also realize that, lock or not, if someone wants into a school, chances are they will find a way... That doesnt make me feel better about the prospect of sending them to a traditional school setting. But the same can be true about a break in- if someone wants to break into my house and do damge, they could. It's just not worth worrying about that every second of every day.) But, as to the security, I actually felt more secure, and so did Peter.

The ratio was different as well (this was my other big issue). The first school was 7 to 1, with one classroom of 14 to a teacher and an aide. This 3 year old class was set up as 2 classes in a big room with a divider that closes the room into two rooms when need be. For open play, the kids are together in one room, with the 2 teachers/1 aide or 3 teachers. When the rooms are divided into 9 students each, there is 1 teacher in each, with the aide/teacher floating between the two. So, the ratio drops to about 6 to 1. (Looking for the PA regs, it's 10 to 1 as the requirement). While it's only 1 kid different between the two we've interviewed so far, it actually is a bigger difference. If a child has to be removed for some reason and an adult leaves, in the previous scenario, that leaves 1 adult with 13 remaining kids; in this one, it leaves 2 adults with 17 kids (or about a 1:8.5 ratio). Add to that, a floating aide or the director comes in until the other adult returns, and you are still looking at 3 adults. So, that made me feel better as well.

Educationally, I think the kids would learn wherever. But, so far, that warm, fuzzy feeling I was looking for? Yep, found it at the Friend's School. We are still going to interview the local, Catholic parish school*. We feel like it is important to look there as well. If the feelings of warm & fuzzy are present there too, we are going to have quite a decision to make!

Oh, and both the Quaker and Catholic 3 year old programs have another big thing: 2 day programs. For the Quaker school, there is a 2 day and 3 day to choose from; the Catholic preschool is just 2 day. But, one of my major heartbreaks is the idea of them gone for 3 mornings a week; 2 days is much more easy to handle, I think. And the teacher at the Friends said that most of their 2 day kids are "young" 3s (meaning summer/early fall birthdays), so Bobby and Maya, as September babies, would be truly among peers, versus older threes in the 3 day program.

So, we have a contender! I'll update on our remaining interview after it happens next week!

*Local Parish: So, we live within walking distance to the local Catholic church (and school), but because we've been so active in our previous parish, we've been attending there and havent switched membership over. Our current parish was just told that, as part of the reorg, the school would be closing and combining with another parish. If we decide to send the kids to our local parish school, we'll most likely be changing parishes from our current to our local. So that is also a consideration as we explore the school.

Emergency Alert System

2012-01-19T09:28:00.001-05:00

An open letter to the PA Emergency Alert System
(in jest, of course... with just an edge of pissed off mama!)

To whomever decided that the monthly Emergency Alert System test needed to go off during the time at which the toddler/preschooler educatational programs are running on PBS... Thank you. Truly. Without your expert timing, I might not have to break promises to my 2 year olds! Does it ever occur to folks that kids dont want TV every second of every day and therefore, when their daily dose of Super Why is disturbed, it is heartbreaking for them?

Don't get me wrong, person-responsible & in charge (PRIC for short). I get that we need EAS. And, when it goes off monthly- every single time (it seems) my kids are ready to put their hands in and transform with the Super Readers to solve the super story answer, I explain to them that it's just a minute... that we can still transform and be ready when the Super Readers return... that we can still solve the mystery. And I even give a primer on why we need EAS (not that they get it any more than I did when I was 2 years old). Does it piss me off, PRIC? Yes it does, but I deal. Because it is a community service that is needed (even though most people I know have emergency alerts set to go to their mobile phones these days!).

So imagine my surprise when, once again, we are ready to transform, and the EAS doesnt just run for the minute of beeping... But then it switches to some infomercial about arthritis supplements. AND DOESNT GO BACK TO PBS. We waited for a bit. I even tried turning the cable off/on. But no. Informercial. Eventually, I turned it off and apologized, and tried to distract the kids to something else.

Why is this a big deal? Why am I more ticked off about this, PRIC, than just another average day? Let me tell you why... My kids dont watch a lot of TV. Normally, this is when they watch Super Why, but this morning, they were watching the earlier showing so I could make breakfast. When I turned it off (just prior to transformation), I said those special Mama words "I PROMISE YOU CAN WATCH IT AT 9am. LET'S HAVE BREAKFAST." So, they fulfilled their part of eating breakfast and not worrying that they were missing Super Why... And, at 9am, I turned PBS on... And they were excited... And then, PRIC, you decided to run the monthly AES. I was irritated, but it was okay.

Until someone got lazy and made it so that, once the test was over, an infomercial ran... On the EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM. So that NO ONE could change channels or get back to their regularly scheduled programming... like PBS.

So, thank you, PRIC. Thanks for my peanuts crying because they couldnt transform into Super Readers to help Whyatt solve the super story answer. Thanks for making it a fairly TV free morning, not by choice but because I dont let my toddlers watch fake doctors hawking their fake treatments for real ailments. Thanks for screwing up what's normally a happy, education-filled half hour with the favorite characters of my kids current imagination. Thanks for screwing up a brand new episode of Super Why! I appreciate it. WE appreciate it. Really.

Perhaps the next time you run the emergency alert, you could do it at 6am? Or how about 11pm? You know, when toddlers and preschoolers arent normally watching TV? I mean, I'm just saying... Especially if it isnt a real emergency and all...

Sincerely,

Mom of SadToddlers
(whose also ticked that you ruined her recording of a new Super Why)

UPDATE @ 11:46am: Thank you to Comcast for finally figuring out the problem (apparently the EAS froze certain people to whatever they were watching post-the test) and working quickly to fix it! We will be taking the old "new" episode from another PBS station tomorrow! Crisis averted!!! (although I had to call several state employees who didnt answer their phone, had emails bounce back for "security reasons", and finally had the lovely lady at Comcast handle all of it for me... No wonder people get ticked off trying to call govt offices!)

Reconsidering

2012-01-17T08:50:00.002-05:00

Peter said that the first story he heard on the radio this morning as he pulled out for work was that CHOP is reconsidering their refusal to transplant a (family donated) kidney to a young child who is mentally retarded. According to the radio spot, they have been berated with emails, calls, etc.

And who says that social media doesn't have pull!!

Brick Walls

2012-01-16T10:51:00.001-05:00

If you havent seen this (especially if you are in the Philadelphia area), then pop on over... Brick Walls

In My Head

2012-01-13T13:56:00.000-05:00

My car's CD player isnt working (and it's holding 5 of my CDs hostage... Not cool!) So, although I'm normally an NPR kind of girl, I've been in the mood for music. I can honestly say I'm not up-to-date with what ranks as 'music' today (I admit it...) but I had the local Christian station on. Those who know me, know that I'm not the "Halleluja Jesus" type girl; I actually am not a fan of contemporary Christian music. I've been to a Point of Grace concert (when I was pregnant with Alexander) because Peter likes the band and has some of their CDs. But it's not my thing. If I want "Jesus music", I probably want something written a few hundreds years ago, most likely not in English. (Pie Jesu anyone???). And, honestly, I prefer Dead Can Dance to the artists featured on The Word FM. But, I'm open minded. And, with the kids in the car, I definitely dont want "F-U this" or "b-tch" or other words coming out of the blue. And, like I said, I wasnt feeling NPR. So, contemporary Jesus music won out.

And I found this treasure... To the point that, by the end of the song, I was teary eyed. I'll admit it. It hit a little close to home.

Now, I'm a believer in the Great Spirit appearing to each of us in a way that we can respond and take in. For us. I've danced in my fair share of sacred drumming circles and felt Spirit present. I've been to thousands of Sacrifices of the Mass and Divine Liturgy's and have been moved by the presence of the Most High. I've hugged trees, chanted incantations, and felt overcome by the Divine Grace that moved from outside to within. I'm openminded. I view All That Is Holy without a need for a specific name or creed, and I work with what resonates with me. And for me.

And these words? They are it for right now. And they are stuck in my head.

We pray for blessings; we pray for peace. Comfort for family, protection while we sleep. We pray for healing, for prosperity. We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering. All the while, You hear each spoken need, yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. 'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears?What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near? What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear; and we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near. We doubt Your goodness. We doubt Your love as if every promise from Your Word is not enough. All the while, You hear each desperate plea and long that we'd have faith to believe. 'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears? What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near? And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?

When friends betray us... When darkness seems to win... We know that pain reminds this heart that this is not, this is not our home. It's not our home.

'Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears? And what if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near? What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy? And what if trials of this life- the rain, the storms, the hardest nights- are Your mercies in disguise?

("Blessings" by Laura Story)

A Morning in the Life of Toddlers

2012-01-12T13:35:00.002-05:00

Because you can't make this stuff up.

Heard this morning at the breakfast table:
Peter: "Wash your hands. A sticky vagina isnt a happy vagina."
(We'd been eating pancakes, with syrup... Maya needed to go potty and was trying to take her clothes off and get naked... with sticky hands.... But still. Who the hell ever imagines that conversation???)

We went to Mr. B's this morning. Maya is on level 4. I have Bobby, ready to go out to the cafe and grab a snack. "Maya, come down please. We're going to get a snack." We make eye contact, I sign 'eat', she nods and proceeds to climb down to level 3, where I lose sight of here. Then I hear a loud noise and she starts to cry. That's right: my evilkineval daughter decided that the quickest way to get to the bottom was to jump through the middle of each climbing level. She landed just shy of level 1, on the mesh seperating levels 1 and 2. She was fine, just startled by the fact that she actually had jumped and traveled at warp speed to the ground. But really? My goodness, crazy woman!

Bobby... My sweet little boy... Who finally is getting over his fear of the potty. We have had some moments of sheer terror, screaming and fighting, for him to get near the toilet. But recently, he's not only gotten near it, but he's sat on it, read a book, and then let us put his 'boy boy' underwear (pull ups) on before he flushes the toilet, etc. Nothing has happened, but it's a major thing. Today, at Mr. B's, he walked to the exit twice, and said "Mama. Go." I thought he wanted a snack. But the third time, he came into my arms and I got a whiff of his bottom. He'd gone, alright. And it was a mess.

But I was so proud of him. SO PROUD. He had tried to tell me that he needed to go to the bathroom. Maybe he had already gone by that first time, I dont know. Or maybe he had actually told me before he went. I'm not sure. But, combined with him telling us he needed to sit on the potty the last few days (sometimes before he goes (he goes right after he gets off and done) or right after (you can still see the steam off the pee), he's getting there. And I'm so glad we arent rushing them and are letting them do this at their own pace. It's taking a while, but they are getting it, like really getting it.

28 Months Old!

2012-01-11T01:35:00.000-05:00

Originally posted on our homeschooling blog

We are indeed at 28 months old at Casa Haytko!

Playroom/Schoolroom:
We have an upstairs playroom. Bobby and Maya share a room now, and Maya's old bedroom is now a fully functioning playroom/schoolroom. And they LOVE it. The other day, we had a rare warm winter day and I had to ask them THREE times if they wanted to go to the playground, which is unheard of in our house! We moved the majority of their lower level playroom toys upstairs (because of it being colder in the basement and us rarely being in there, we are making it into a yoga studio for me to conduct classes at home for Mending Heart Bellies!) It also helped us to clear out some of the living room, making it more of a family area and less of a toy laden area. There are educational posters on the wall of the school/playroom, work/play stations for the kids, and everything is there level. There's no TV (although they do have musical instrument 'toys') and the majority of the tactile toys are wooden. LOVE THIS ROOM.

Skills:

Both kids can count to 20. Bobby can count backwards from 10, and Maya from 20.
Both kids can recite their ABCs and are starting to sound out words.

Bobby's first "read" word was "Norwich", the university that Peter and I attended. We have a blanket, with the NORWICH spelled out. He recited the words, then said "N-O-R... nor... W-I-C-H... norwich." Which was amazing because we had just started the "ch" sound!
Maya has sounded out the word "vegetable" and she is still quite the mimic. Her vocabulary is insane. And the retention of it...
I personally think that Maya speaks clearer than Bobby, but part of that too may be that she is a chatty cathy and wants to be talking all-the-time. Bobby is more quiet, but when he wants to say something he can. He still has moments of extreme frustration and we have to just tell him to relax (and sometimes hold him, looking him in the eye, until he does).
Bobby uses progressive verbs more than Maya does. She, however, has started using pronouns and has realized pluralization (i.e. one egg, two eggs)

They love to help cook. Bobby is my go-getter. He wants to go to the pantry, fridge, etc, and get whatever we need for the meal. Maya is my preparer. She wants to be right in the action, making food and getting ready to serve it. That child LOVES to set the table. They both love to 'wash dishes' too. It's adorable. :)
They are learning how to put on their socks, shoes, and coats. (see below)
They are learning how to clean up after play. (see below)

Things we are working on:

Potty training is still a big one. Maya will ask to go to the potty, although we usually get there late. Or, she will sit there with no action. She's peed in the toilet once. And we are/were thrilled! (So was she- she ran around telling Bobby and Peter that she "peed and wiped my vagina!" and she was so excited). Bobby, for the longest, hated the potty. Would have a freak out every time we tried to sit him on it. So we stopped. And let him direct it. He's now sat on it a few times with no freak outs, but he is in control and he decides when he does it. We ask, or if he takes us there, then we go. So far, no action. But it's a positive step. We're really hoping to continue doing 'child led' potty training, but I'm hoping they decide sooner, rather than later that they want to use the potty consistently!
Getting Dressed (without help). The kids consistently help us pick out their clothes and get dressed, but we are now moving towards having them put on their socks (they are getting pretty good at this!), shoes (working on it!), and coat (hit or miss, but more hits as the winter moves on!) independently.
We are now at the age where they are following directions better and are helping to clean up areas of play when they are done (although the school/playroom does NOT reflect that right now!). It's still a work in progress but I am trying to reiterate that when we are done with something, we need to put it away. Last night, Bobby helped by putting away the foam letters before he went to the recycled wood pulp blocks. I was SO proud. I didnt even ask him to do so, he just started! And Maya has been putting chalk and crayons back in the easel trays when finished. So, we are getting there, but we are just starting with this.

I found some interesting charts about developmental milestones at this age. This one is from Babycenter, for 25-30 months.

Child's Age	Mastered Skills (most kids can do)	Emerging Skills (half of kids can do)	Advanced Skills (a few kids can do)
25 and 26 months	Stacks six blocks Walks with smooth heel-to-toe motion	Uses pronouns (e.g., I, me, you) Washes and dries own hands	Speaks clearly most of the time Draws a vertical line
27 and 28 months	Jumps with both feet Opens doors	Understands descriptions (e.g., big, soft) Draws a vertical line	Starts to recognize ABCs Balances on one foot
29 and 30 months	Brushes teeth with help Washes and dries own hands Draws a vertical line	Draws a circle Balances on one foot	Puts on a T-shirt Names one color Names one friend

I am happy to report that our kids are doing well!! They both stack, walk, jump, open doors, brush teeth, wash and dry hands, and can draw lines (the most kids can do section). Maya is starting to use pronouns, but Bobby has not, and she also speaks more clearly than he does sometimes (this is from half of kids/few kids). They understand descriptions/verticle lines, and can draw circles. (from the middle section for 27-30mo). Balance on one foot? When we do yoga! ALL THE TIME!!! And they love love love love love going to the playground and climbing on the (terrifying) big kid jungle gym! They dont just recognize their ABCs- they know them and sing them!! They can put on shirts, name several colors, and can name each other (or repeat the names of others). Sadly, we dont really have a playgroup, etc, so their friends are mostly family/godsiblings. But this made me feel like "Whew! On par!"

We have their developmental assessment at the end of the month. I feel pretty awful about this actually. They should have had one in September and one in December (one at their 2 year and one at 2 years adjusted)... We were just so busy and had so much on our plate... But I made their appt this morning, so it is now on the calendar!

Things on the plate:

Preschool (possibly). We were excited about the possibility of doing a few hours a week at the local Montessori preschool... But, we interviewed there this morning and, honestly, I didnt love it (another post coming!). So, we're going to look at a few other places... We'll see. I love educating at home; but I want them to have more socialization. We are lacking in that... Hence
Playgroups. We've struggled to fit in at a playgroup. Most take place in the afternoon around here. We do lunch at 12/12:30, then nap around 12:30/1pm until 3pm or so. So, an afternoon playgroup just doesnt work. Our local parish does a weekly morning playgroup... But it's on Wednesdays- which doesnt work, because the kids visit their paternal grandparents. So... Friends suggested meetup.com, which I checked out, and we may be able to find something that works for us! I really want the kids to be able to make friends (and I'd love to get to know more local parents of toddlers, too).

Montessori Preschool In Review

2012-01-10T14:11:00.002-05:00

Okay, so in fairness... I'm not sure what I was expecting. I dont want to say it was a bad experience- it wasnt... It just wasnt what I thought. I wanted to fall in love on sight- and I didnt.

So, there's a joke... "Did you know Lansdale has a Montessori school???!!!" I was so excited about this fact a year ago that, every time Sarah and I passed it on a run, those words would slip out. To the point that now it is a private joke that is sometimes said whenever there is a need (someone brings up something for the umpteenth time). Needless to say, I'm in love with the Montessori Method for educating kids and the fact that we had a REAL.SCHOOL.WITHIN.WALKING.DISTANCE made me super excited. Even though I love the idea of educating at home... Even though I'm not sold on the idea of 'traditional' school settings... Even though the pricetag knocked me over... But, we promised ourselves we'd consider it and, once the kids hit two, I knew we needed to make an appointment to tour it if we had a chance of getting in for their third birthday. So, we did. I read up on how to interview, what questions to ask, and even blogged and FBed about it. (and thanks for all the suggestions!) So, this morning, we made sure the kids were clean, we looked presentable, and off we went!

And that's about where it fell apart.

We pulled in and, although classes were in session, there were parents still doing drop off. And one let us in. Actually, she held the door open for us. So, although there was a keypad and doorbell 'security' system, we got in with no administrator the wiser. And then, since we had no clue where the office was, we proceeded to walk upstairs to where the classes were... And all the kids... And, no one stopped us. We finally stopped a parent and asked where the office was. And when we got there, the secretary looked, in her own words, like a deer in headlights, wondering how the hell we'd gotten in.

Yeah. Not cool. I have anxiety about sending my kids to traditional school settings for exactly this reason. So, security? I wasnt impressed. You can assure me all you want that you try to avoid these instances, but... Yeah... No. I walked in where the kids were. Where the classes were. I could have snatched a child in a heartbeat. And then, to make light I'm sure, the secretary said "We havent lost one yet." Really? That's reassuring. When we visited the classroom, too, Peter's comment was that Bobby or Maya could easily (and quietly) slip out if they felt like it and based on where the 3 year old room was (and how easy it was for us to get in), getting out of the building, while no easy feat, wouldnt be impossible for the daredevil duo. That, in and of itself, isnt as concerning to me, though, as the fact that someone could get in. I realize the door is locked. And there's a keypad. And, really, Peter and I had 2 kids in tow- that mom probably thought we were just doing drop off, too, and that she was doing us a favor. But it left me with a huge stone in the pit of my stomach.

The classroom was nice. It was definitely Montessori-esque and they'd even made the sandtable/watertable into one with the peanuts people use in posting items, for easier clean up. Loved that idea. May try it! So, loved the classroom... But, it looked like the school/playroom we have here. Which I guess is good on the one hand, but I dont know, I guess I expected more? I mean, I'm not a teacher and, although I've read a fair amount on the Method, I guess I just expected there to be something that wowed me. The skills of the 3 year old room (academically speaking) seemed to be things we are learning now... at 2 years old. For example, my kids can count to 20 already. This room was learning 23. And the toys/learning tools... 90% of what they had, we have and they are learning those and mastering them... So, I guess I just expected more? Maybe I shouldnt have? (more on this later) But, all in all, I liked the classroom. And a primary thing was how well the kids interacted together and with their teacher/aide. Loved that. The teacher explained that they've been working on this skill since the term started in September, but the kids were doing really well in my opinion.

The other thing that really bothered me was the teacher/student ratio. And, again, maybe I'm off (teachers- especially you, Paula!- weigh in for me). There were 14 kids in the room and 1 teacher/1 aide. So, a 7-to-1 ratio. For 3 year olds, that just seems really high... I guess I expected maybe double that? 2 teachers/ 2 aides for that large of a room? Am I nuts? Is this the average ratio and good for that age group?

And, while we are on teachers, only one (the director who is also the kindergarten teacher) is Montessori certified (in addition to being state certified). The other teachers are state certified and the director then educates them in the Montessori method, but they are not certified Montessori teachers. This doesnt bother me as much; the classrooms looked to be set up in the style, and the room we saw was definitely being run in the Montessori way, which we are happy with. But I guess I expected more by way of that certification, too. But that's not as big a deal to me as the student/teacher ratio, and the security issue.

So, overall, I'm left a little bummed. When I talked to Sarah, she asked if maybe part of the reason is that I'm not sold on traditional education in the first place. I think that's definitely a part of it. But I know that the kids need more socialization than what we have now. They love to run into kids at playgrounds. I want more of that for them.

When Peter and I were decompressing, he had a more positive view of the school then I did. The security didnt trouble him as much (WHAT????!!!!) and he said that he expected our home educating and the school's to match up (so he wasnt expecting that wow factor that I guess I was). His big thing is socializing them for both that and the independence, as well as increasing their verbal communication skills. In that way, he liked the interview and felt the school was fine. But he's okay in viewing others too.

We have an appointment to tour the local Friends (Quaker) preschool. I talked to the director today and their pricing for 2 days a week for the kids would be around $3k for both, and 3 days would be around $4400. While the 3 day is about average with the Montessori school, we hadnt really considered the idea of a 2 day, which may work better for us. (St. Stan's, the local Catholic church school, also has a 2 day, and we will be touring them too). In thinking about it, a Tues/Thurs set up would allow us to keep the kids with their current visit to the paternal grandparents on Wednesday and with my dad's visits on Fridays... So... We shall see. We're touring the Quaker school on Friday and I have yet to make the appt for St. Stan's, but will this week. Even if they do go to a preschool, be it for 2 or 3 days, we will still continue the Montessori homeschooling. And, if they dont do preschool, then I'll just continue it more formally.

Some friends recommended meetup.com to find playgroups. Most of the ones I've encountered do afternoon playgroups- right in the middle of our naptime. But I'm hoping to find either morning playgroups or ones close by that we could do after naptime. Because, at this age, play is important, and doing that with other kids, would help with their socialization, independence, and communication.

So, all in all... I guess I need to really evaluate where I'm coming from. Is nothing going to be right, because deep down I dont want it to be? I hope that isnt the case; I truly want what is best for them (be it home school, private school, or public school). But, as a cousin said, knowing what feels wrong is just as important as knowing what feels right. And, as much as I wanted the local Montessori school to be the right fit, it just doesnt feel right...

Here We Go... Again... Again... Oh, and Again

2012-01-09T20:33:00.000-05:00

So, apparently we do adoptions like we do pregnancies: closely spaced, back to back.

That's right. Another call has come in. I still feel like I'm realing from the last one, and, now... More decisions, more thoughts, more pain, more joy. At least less hiding the info, I suppose, which is similar to how we told Nicholas & Sophia's news, hid Alexander's, then told (fearfully) Bobby and Maya's. Maybe things come in threes...

As you may recall, Peter and I initially had our paperwork, etc, done because we do some work with a pregnancy crisis center. That was how the first adoption 'referral' (I know it's not the correct word, but I cant really think of another) came our way. When that one fell through at the end of June, we were contacted by a friend in September, hence the recent adoption that fell through. Shortly after, we were asked if the Center could keep us in its portfolio listing, in the event parents decided on adoption and wanted the Center to help faciliate a private adoption.

Peter was more comfortable with that than I was, to be honest. My initial feelings were that I was done. I needed a break. My heart was hurting. I didnt want to go through trying to talk to Bobby and Maya about a baby only to have to tell them that no baby was coming. I didnt want to have things prepared only to have to put them away and get them out of sight. I didnt want the anxiety of waiting and waiting only to have the hurt of something that wasnt meant to be.

All this being said, we both have positive feelings about the first adoption referral that didnt work out; that scenario ended as it should have. We are so thrilled that the mother kept her baby and is doing extremely well. We get updates and it really warms my heart to think that we had some part in that, small though it was. She chose not to abort because she knew we'd be there; she chose to parent because she realized that she could and that she had support and real choices before her for education, housing, parenting help, etc. It's great. I'm happy. The hurt was WELL worth it. This last adoption fall through, I cant say that about. It still hurts. Am I happy that the child will grow up with his or her biological family? That they wont have questions about that aspect of their lives? Yes. I think that's a good thing. And am I hopeful that his/her mother really had a change of heart when she realized that we werent coming to the hospital? Truly, I am hopeful of that. I pray for it. But I dont know it and, because I dont, I worry... And my heart hurts. I'm trying, one day at a time, to 'give it to God' as is the phrase, but it still hurts. And I'm still afraid. But I am hopeful, truly I am.

So, the Center... Can they keep us in the portfolio... My intial thought was no, Peter's was yes. So, we talked about it. Because the one thing we know for sure about any major decision is that we need to be on the same page. And ultimately, we decided that yes, they could keep us... Until our homestudy expires in the summer. And then, we wanted to be removed. Not forever, but for a while... For a break... For our hearts, to focus on our family and our endeavers... A much needed family building vacation. While I may not have been physically pregnant in 2011, it's still a year where there were child possibilities- and we've had that since 2007. So, since we are ready on paper AND since we truly believe we didnt start this journey last year for no reason at all (although I kind of assumed the entire reason was so that P would feel like she could, indeed, parent her child and that our saying "yes" gave her time to meditate on that decision and find that answer), we opted to stay on the list... For now...

Last week, I had a call from the Center. A call that, honestly, even though I said that we were okay keeping our info in the portfolio, I wasnt expecting. On so many fronts. A young couple with a toddler already is due on Easter Sunday... And they picked our profile out of the portfolio. They share a lot of information with us, which may be one of the reasons they picked us. They are young (19) and engaged (Peter and I were married when I was a teenager and he was barely not). Ethnically, he is part Native American (my mom is Cherokee) and she is part Puerto Rican (Peter's mom is). And they liked that I am adopted. There may be more, but this was the information they shared. They are due on Easter Sunday- as in 3 months from now- with a little girl. They would like an open adoption so that the child knows she is adopted and has a sister, so that, as she is older, the sisters could know one another. I'm sorry- did I mention April 8th? As in, 3 months away? Slightly less?

I have to be honest, when she first said it to me (the whole thing), my first thought was "You have got to be kidding me". I mean, there are other families in that portfolio. They picked ours? And right after this failed adoption?

Peter and I have had quite a few talks. There is definitely a part of us that is afraid of getting caught up in the cycle again. A part that is afraid of being ready for another child that is never going to be. But, the one thing that helps in this situation is the knowledge that this scenario is what we are okay with... That we went into working with the Center knowing that the ultimate goal is parent-child staying together. That's why we have the programs that help provide education and housing, and the meetings that provide baby products. That's why the Center works so hard to help parents become good parents. So, in that vein, saying "yes" only to have "no" present itself is the right thing to happen.

Doesnt mean it is easy.

Because it's not.

For us, part of saying yes is giving that child the same that we would give a child I found out I was pregnant with. It means giving our prayers and thoughts and love. It means preparing our hearts for growth as new parents. With that love comes the risk of great loss... But it's a part of the journey. It always is. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that. And, at least with this loss, there is the knowledge that the baby doesnt lose out... They still have a family to love them and care for them, it just isnt us.

We've decided to go through with it. If the parents decide to parent, then we will ask that the Center take us out of the portfolio (and we'll start our 'rest' a little earlier than the summer).

This week, we are due to craft a list of things we are okay with in the sense of "open adoption", for the parents to review and consider. That part wont be hard; Peter and I are firm advocates of extreme openness (unless it is detrimental to the child)... And then, there's the initial paperwork... And discussion of the birth, being at the hospital or an agreed upon location, etc... Here we go again.

I'm scared.

Dont tell anyone, but I'm extremely terrified.

Help me, will you? Keep us and B&M, the birthfamily, and this sweet little girl in your prayers and thoughts. Help us to be open to the Universe's plan, whatever that is, and that, no matter what, we'll be able to come through this without too many tears or broken spirits.

Montessori Preschool Interview

2012-01-09T14:33:00.004-05:00

I can't believe this day has come... Tomorrow, we are going for our tour and interview of the local Montessori preschool. It's not just nerves about how the kids would do in that setting (remember the Bible study fiasco last fall???) because they will be 3 years old when beginning, but there's also our strong preference for homeschooling (along with our desire to have the kids in a setting where they can make new friends and interface with adults other than us, hence the idea that a few hours during the week wouldnt be that bad and would actually be a good thing). Montessori is what we do at home and is a style we really like, so in that regard, too, it's a good thing. (While I love the idea of Waldorf, the closest school is over a half hour away). And the school is highly recommended by folks we've talked to.... Still... I'm nervous. I've got questions (of course!) and concerns (the price tag is a big one!).

School stuff... We know it's Montessori, but which association certifies them? What are their standings in the state? Are their teachers certified (both in Montessori and as early educators)? Do you do fire drills? Do you have an emergency/disaster evacuation plan? Who can pick up the kids if, for whatever reason, I cant? Do you have a videocam so that parents can check in and see what is going on in the classroom?
Classroom stuff... How many classes? How many kids? (They are mixed age groups, which is a principle of Montessori) What's the teacher-to-child ratio? How many aides are in each class? Are all the people in the school cleared by the state and FBI with child abuse clearances and are they updated? (Hey, Peter and I have these- they should too) Will the kids be in the same class? Will their class have the same teacher daily? How often due teachers leave (find other employment)? What is the behavioral problem management style of the school? How do they discipline (ie is it a type of isolation, physical punishment, etc)? What's a typical day like? Is there TV (and if so, how much)? Is there naptime?
Education stuff... How much reading/writing learning takes place? Is there daily art/music/play-gym-recess? Do the kids go outside daily, weather permitting? Are there field trips of any sort? When are the kids evaluated on skills? (kids develop at differing paces, but if there are learning delays, we'd like to know sooner rather than later so that we can get some intervention)
Hygience stuff... Kids must be potty trained, but will there be someone there to help to ensure cleanliness? (I know kids in elementary school who still struggle with their bottoms being clean). Hand washing? Is there a snacktime and, if so, are hands washed first/after? Do we provide snacks? Do they? Are children required to have certain immunizations? (We use Dr. Sears as a guide and dont follow the AAP guidelines) Sick policy for kids?
Is the director onsite? Who teaches a class in the event a teacher is sick?
Is parental involvement encouraged? Can I visit the classroom unannounced? Do you communicate with parents on a regular basis?

What am I missing? As someone who has A) never done this before and B) never really planned to send my kids to a preschool, I'm at a loss. The other big thing we are discussing is time. We know that we want no more than 2-3 hours away from home, and in the morning (since we do nap in the afternoon and I'll want to 'homeschool' a bit with them still, in addition to hearing about their day, playing, etc). How many days? Some places, like the Friends (Quaker) preschool offer 2 and 3 days, while the local Catholic school offers a 2 day, but the Montessori offers 3 day and 5 day. Which is best? And then, of course, there is cost... While the Catholic school is $3260 for both for the year and I havent heard back from the Quaker school yet, but the Montessori school is (gulp) $4140 (or about $3700 after discounts for 2 kids and paying in full) for 3 day or $5400 (or about $4750 after discounts). (Waldorf: $1040 for both kids... 4 days, 4 hours a day, but we could apply for financial aid). So, still, we're looking at several thousands of dollars... For a few hours a day...

So, there's a lot to think about. While I'm still not 100% sold on the idea, we do think that the kids could benefit from it. And I want that for them. I want a good, academic environment that still allows them to be children. I want them to forge new friendships and make connections with folks... I'd like to meet other, local parents of kids Bobby & Maya's age... So, there are positives. But I'm nervous...

Share your experiences- good and bad... And, if you have them, any additional questions we might want to consider. Our appointment is at 9:30 tomorrow, so I'll let you know!

(Unsure about what the heck I'm going on and on about??? Here's a link that explains the differences between Montessori and Waldorf preschools)

Would It Make You Feel Better?

2012-01-09T09:31:00.001-05:00

If you haven't stopped by and read Mrs. Spit's latest post, Would It Make You Feel Better?, then I highly suggest to pop on over. Well said, Mrs. S!

The Aforementioned Drama

2012-01-07T00:41:00.000-05:00

A few posts back, I mentioned that there was drama at Casa Haytko but, at the time, I wasnt ready to really blog about it. I guess I am now.

So... December 28th was a Wednesday. I worked hard getting stuff cleaned and squared away when Peter took the kids to my in-laws for their normal Wednesday and then got a haircut (this was the week he was off from work for the holidays). We'd planned a lovely afternoon date of hitting up an old favorite restaurant (45 minutes away) and trying to find a coffee shop to just sit and chat afterwards. No real plans. Just us. Hanging out. I even put on my hoochie boots and a shorter-than-church-allows dress for the occasion! As I'm finishing up tossing a load of laundry in (I know... So sexy, hot, date appropriate!), my phone rings. I dont recognize the number. It takes 3 different calls for the person to finally get through and, by this point, Peter has taken a bag of trash outside to the bin and is waiting on me so that we can get on the road.

It's the birth mother.

A full five weeks after her due date (and 3 weeks after telling me she no longer wanted to work with us).

You guessed it... She's in labor.

And she wants to know whether or not we're coming to the hospital to 'get the baby'.

I'm amazed that I held it together, to be honest. The second I heard her voice, and the monitors- including the sound of the baby's thudding heartbeat- beeping in the background, I thought I wouldnt be able to speak because the lump in my throat was so thick. How I wanted to tell her that we'd be on our way... How I wanted to hold that child and kiss them and love them and give them all that we could...

Instead, I told her that I was sorry. That as much as we wanted to come down and take the baby home nad love them forever, that we couldn't. That, because she wasn't honest about the situation, we couldn't touch on an adoption until she notified the birthfather and he agreed as well... She said "Alright", (as in alright, we're done then) and hung up the phone. I could still hear the sounds of the monitor as she disconnected the call.

And I cried.

No, that's not accurate. I sobbed. Like hyperventilating, chest aching, gut wrenching, wailing sobs. By the time we left, I thought I was okay. Then I proceeded to cry like a normal person in the car. By the time we arrive for lunch, my face looks as though I've been outside in the cold for a good hour, and I could pass as a twin to Rudloph. Thank goodness, having a later lunch meant a nearly empty dining room. The day passed, we had a nice time together, we talked a lot about the adoption situation and everything else we'd wanted to chat about (namely transforming the lower level of our house into a space good for Peter (i.e. his office and his "man section" with the bar and pool table) and a good space for me to take on yoga clients (since we were going to transform the nursery aka Maya's old room into the kids' playroom). It was a good afternoon.

We ultimately decided that we have until June 2012 when our homestudy expries. We will stay "open" to the pregnancy crisis center we worked with before, with the understanding that saying yes to a parent who has chosen life over abortion but doesnt want to raise the child, means also accepting the role of encouraging her to, whenever possible, consider raising her child with the assistance the Center offers. Most parents who decide against abortion do raise their children, and do successfully, getting support in baby items, housing, and employment, as well as the opportunity for education and parenting help if they wish. That's the primary goal, and one we support. Sometimes parents just need to know that if, at the end of their pregnancy, they arent called to be parents, that other parents are willing. It's a tough stop to be in as the prospective adoptive parents are concerned, but one that we feel like we can manage- until June. At that point, assuming no adoption, the homestudy lapses and we are done. I dont know for how long. We've talked about reinvestingating it (and doing so with the older/special needs/sibling set we'd initially discussed prior to having Bobby & Maya) when the kids are 5 or 6, and we know what we are doing, as it relates to homeschooling or trying out traditional schooling. It gives us time to breathe... To heal our hearts a bit too.

We've already been contacted by the Center about parents who are interested. But we've made ourselves clear to the Director about where we stand. Because they saw our profile, we're willing to have them consider us in the event they dont parent the baby, but then we are done... We need a break... Our hearts and our families need a break... One of the reasons I made getting the nursery into a playroom was that it just hurt too damn much to have Maya say "Baby's room". And, while I agree that it may very well be a baby's room one day... It's not right now. And, explaining to them about baby's coming and going, well, it's tough. And, while life is tough, this tough mama needs a break. Really.

So, that's the aforementioned drama. Perhaps not in a small nutshell, but a nutshell nonetheless.

The Visit of the Magi

2012-01-06T10:00:00.001-05:00

January 6th... 3 Kings Day... Feels like the entire 'Christmastide' has been so fast this year!

Tonight, we'll have our annual dinner and gift exchange for the kids. For this year, I'm making ham, and I've already prepared a Tres Leches cake and Pineapple Upside Down cake. But, outside of food, it's nice to get together with those near and dear after the immediate 'rush' of the holiday season has ended.

(On a cute note, I'm watching the kids snuggle. They are standing, and Maya just stepped into Bobby's side and placed her head against his shoulder. They stayed that way for a second, before running off and playing...There's my gift from the Kings right there...)

In Which I Rant & Complain

2012-01-04T17:28:00.002-05:00

Not the first post of a new calendar year that I wanted, but oh well...

This has not been my day! So, forgive me as I bitch and whine (and get it all out so I'm a better woman/wife/mother/friend/sister/daughter/etc when I'm finished!)

- Last week, we took my car to the shop for an oil change. Now, the CD player wont work. Apparently, this is common on this particular model of Volvo. G-R-E-A-T... So, now I have to wait for Peter to have time (time? what's that???) to look at it or it has to go back to the shop...

- Woke up at 2am to a nightmare-having Maya. She fell back to sleep within a half hour... But I didnt.... until 6:30am. Got up at 7. Yeah. No run. No rest. Way to start the day, already in a pissed off mood.

- Yesterday, Peter made me a cup of coffee... And it sucked. But it wasnt his fault. The coffee maker was dying. Hoping it was a fluke, I tried it again this morning. Nope. Nasty coffee... Machine dead. Sucked, but...

- Peter recommended making coffee in my french press. So I did... And promptly scalded myself because I wasnt paying adequate attention.

- As he's getting ready to leave, I ask Peter to grab me a loaf of bread from the garage freezer. He comes back in and says "The freezer isn't frozen." It dawns on me there was an interesting noise coming from the fridge last night. Yep. Dead. In fairness, we inherited it from the previous owners who inherited it from the previous-previous owners... So, we got 14 months. Can't complain. (too much). Of course, that is the fridge where I had 5 dozen eggs, and the freezer was packed to the gills with bread and meats from local sources, along with veggies from my garden. Thanks to the amount of food and the freezing temps, we saved 95% of the stuff and were able to fit it into our kitchen fridge. (So glad we bought the ultra huge LG for the kitchen... Love that thing).

- I made Maya cry. As I was trying to unload the stuff Peter was bringing in, she wanted to help. I said no. Actually, it may have been more like "No, you CANNOT help me. I need you to go and play, and get out of the kitchen." or something like that. She went in the living room and cried. And I felt awful. Maya is quite the helper. The epitome of "domestic goddess-in-training". I still feel bad (even though she kissed me when I made eggs for breakfast- her favorite).

- One of the things that was too defrosted to save was a delicious empanada made by my MIL. I decided to eat it for breakfast. As I go to take it out of the oven, it slips and falls underneath the oven heating element, getting nastified... And I have to toss it. And I love empanadas. Especially hers. L-O-V-E. So, I was pretty sad.

- I took down the nursery today and made it into a playroom. It got to be too hard hearing Maya point and say "Baby's room" every time she walked past. Even though we've tried to explain to them that the baby is with his family (we dont know the gender and, honestly, dont know if the baby is actually with his birth family), she still, in the most adorable voice, would announce "baby's room"... It broke my heart. So, changed it.

And that was just by 9:30am.

The days has gotten better. My house is clean, I'm showered, and I'm trying to tell myself that just because the day quasi sucked in the morning (the moon goes void of course early tomorrow morning... perhaps I was running a day early???) that things will be okay tomorrow. And if not? At least I'll have a lunar reason to be crabby!

On an even better note, I feel so much better after venting!

Pregnancy Article

2011-12-29T16:06:00.003-05:00

Just saw this posted by a fellow doula... Wow.... That's all I've got.

(In defense, I just deleted a file I needed for a CBE assignment (well, I overwrote it) and frustrated is a light term. Peter's trying to recover it, but we are both doubtful it's going to happen... And more Casa Haytko drama, but that's for another time...)

Happy December 27th

2011-12-27T14:44:00.000-05:00

Why a happy December 27th? Why not...

Christmas was lovely. I dont have any pictures uploaded yet(except one that P's aunt took of Maya), so I'll share that. Her smile pretty much sums it up!

We had a lovely two day celebration. Christmas Eve, we went to my in-laws for a traditional Puerto Rican Christmas Eve dinner, then we went to 7pm Mass, which was lovely. Later on, my mother in law and I went to Midnight Mass at our local parish; again, lovely. I cantored the 7:30am Mass on Christmas Day, where my in-laws and father joined me (the kids were asleep from a much later than usual night, so Peter stayed with them). I prepared our annual brunch when I got home and we were surrounded by family for a nice meal. Later, we went to Peter's aunt's home for dinner with family. All in all, it was truly a wonderful time with family.

We dont do a huge amount of gift giving, but I was touched that Peter selected 2 dresses for me from Shabby Apple (and I'm sad I'm returning them because the arms just dont fit my broad shoulders well). The thought that went into his selections really warmed me. :) He's a sweetheart...

Yesterday, Peter had a 'daddy day'. I met up with Sarah for a 4 mile run on some of the trails in the county, and then we had brunch. I finished up the afternoon by catching a movie with Peter's aunt then came home and we had dinner together. So, a nice Boxing Day too! :)

Well, kids are waking from naptime...

Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

Thinking of you and yours on this beautiful day...

Peaces of Joy

2011-12-23T21:36:00.000-05:00

A double meaning... "Pieces" of joy as well as [the] peaces of joy. :)

I keep up with the ex-boyfriend on facebook and he wrote a status a few weeks ago about how it isnt what he buys his daughter (who's Bobby and Maya's age), it's his love for her and the fact that, as she's growing up, she knows how much he loves her. It was a sweet thing to say and something that I find oh so true. Borrowing a bit from my friend Mrs. J., we instituted gift giving "rules" if we can call them that because it was important to Peter and I that our children grow up knowing that the holiday season isnt about how much someone spends or how much they get. It isnt about expecting gifts or even about giving gifts in the traditional sense of the word. It's not oh, we have to buy X, Y, and Z something. Even pre-kids, it was bring a bottle of wine somewhere or you saw something that screamed out X's name and had to get it (and the holidays were your built in excuse) or you knew how much someone liked something you do, so you put together a gift of ingredients, etc. With the exception of our parents, we never felt "obliged" to buy something (and I dont mean to imply that our parents/siblings were obligations, just that we always knew we'd find something 'perfect' for them). Since becoming parents/aunts/uncles/godparents, we've definitely added to the buy-for list, again because there is a desire in our hearts to see the joy... Not because we have to spend, spend, spend. As R so succinctly put it, our love will be there long after the excitement over the gift (or even the gift itself) lasts. Isn't that really what's important?

Which isnt to say our children arent spoiled by people; they are. And we are grateful that so many people love them. But as anyone who knows a grandparent (or excited aunt/uncle) knows, it helps to make things clear when you are raising your kids a certain way. So, the 1 gift rule went into effect. (And before you think I'm an ogre, we celebrate more than one holiday in the month, so these kids arent deprived, nor are their family deprived of picking out something 'perfect'). Starting on St. Nicholas's Day (Dec. 6), the kids leave out a shoe and St. Nick deposits a coin and piece of candy. This year, I missed it, but I know that Peter enjoyed being with them. (I was in Chicago, and he took that week off work). He told them the story of St. Nicholas and they watched a 20 minute cartoon about his life and works. And, he told them about our little saint, Nicholas, whose name day it was... And then, there's Yule/Winter Solstice. We celebrate the return of the sun with giving gifts to Nature (and by getting a winter themed gift in return!). Their first solstice, they got snow suits; this year, gloves and hats and, for Bobby, a coat (because he desperately needed one, whereas Maya has 2 that fit). As to gift giving, we sprinkle birdseed and drop cranberries on the ground for our outside friends. And I can't tell you what it's like watching their faces as they sprinkle birdseed on the ground or sprinkle berries where the squirrels like to traverse. And then, from the window as they watch 'brother bird' and 'sister squirrel' eating their "gifts!" Maya especially shrieks with joy and poor Bobby ends up scaring them away by pounding on the window with excitement. It's beautiful to watch. We also trimmed some of our holly branches and decorated our Blessed Mother shrine.

Christmas Eve is my mother's birthday. When I was growing up, we always got to open one gift on Christmas Eve. And, nice enough, because Peter's maternal family is Puerto Rican and Christmas Eve was always such a big deal in his house, he remembers opening a gift on the Eve too! So, the kids get a gift. Since we go to Uita & Grandpa's house, it's fitting that the gift be at their place (and this year is a gift that will stay at their house for when the kids visit).

And then, Christmas Day. A gift from us, a gift from their twin, a gift from their siblings. That's it. Sure, they will get gifts from grandparents, aunts, uncles, etc, so there are more than those under the tree for them. But we dont buy the store. Growing up (and dont get me wrong, I loved it), you couldnt walk in our living room. We were relatively poor, but my parents put in long hours and saved all year to get us whatever they could on Christmas. I look back and remember the excitement and the glee... But very few of the actual presents. (Bikes, I remember... Oh, and my trenchcoat and fedora during my "Untouchables" phase! Loved that year!)

Three Kings Day/Epiphany (aka Little Christmas) the kids get three more gifts (one from each king). Traditionally, I get them clothes. Either three pieces or, if they are inexpensive (thank you, Kohl's!), three outfits. We exchange gifts with godfamilies around this day and have our annual Epiphany gathering. So, like I said, it isnt like we dont do gifts.

But, when I look back over my own childhood, the things that stick out arent what I got or how late my poor dad stayed up putting together bikes and sneaking them into the house. They are my memories... Memories of making cookies with my mom. Jimmy and I would stand on kitchen stairs (when we were little) so we could lean over the table my grandfather built and would either cookie cutter out cookies from dough my mom made or we would help drop drop-cookies onto the pan. We'd wait like kids with ants in their pants who desperately needed to pee until that first batch came out so that we could test them for "Santa". We'd eat pineapple dream cake that my Mamaw made every year for my Mom's birthday cake and discourse on why Christmas babies got shafted with gifts. :) (It's true, isnt it Katie!). My dad would start his long, slow, overnight cooking of ham. We'd put out cookies and milk, and hang our stockings over the fire. Eventually, we'd get sent to bed (but only after watching the news and hearing the weather man say that Santa's sleigh had been spotted over NYC and we'd all better get to be if we expected him to visit). We'd pray for snow. We'd finally pass out due to exaustion (but usually after we'd tried peeking into the living room (in our house, the LR was inbetween my brother's bedroom and mine). Whoever woke up first would take the long way around the house and crawl into bed with the other and Jimmy and I would lay there for what felt like hours until we finally heard a parent up. We'd wait in the kitchen (and the smell would be DIVINE) until both parents were up and we could tear into the living room. I dont remember the presents, but I remember how I felt... How things smelled... How they felt.

I wonder what Bobby and Maya will remember. Will it be the sprinkling of birdseed on the Solstice? Me making batch after batch of cookies for our family's annual Christmas Eve cookie exchange? Christmas Eve dinner and Mass? 7:30am Mass with Mommy cantoring on Christmas Day and our annual brunch afterwards?

Will they remember baking brownies or cookies for the firemen, policemen, and EMTs and delivering them? The looks on their faces? Will they wonder why we do that? How it started?

We went to the farm store to pick up eggs and then to the supermarket to buy disposable pans for brownies. We baked brownies and lovingly attached cards. Thank you for all that you do for our community for our local men and woman, Thank you for all that you do for the community; even though we are no longer residents of Harleysville, we will never forget your service and kindness to our family in 2008 to the men and women of our old town. 6 batches... And, because the post office staff were so kind when I bought 300 stamps (plus my half dozen internationals), we made a batch for them this year, and a batch for the funeral home (a few blocks from us) who handled the arrangements for Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander). People were so appreciative and kind; it was an early Christmas gift for me.

Will they remember going to the Shrine of Our Lady of Czestochowa, where their siblings and uncle have perpetual memorial candles in the candle chapel? Will they remember going inside the chapel and lighting a special Christmas candle, asking the Blessed Mother to hold their siblings especially close on Christmas? Walking to the creche with live animals afterwards? Yesterday, we went. The three of us held hands and I pointed out the candles from the window. Then we went inside. Maya put the candle donation in the bin and Bobby took a red candle. Maya helped me light it and place it next to the icon of Our Lady. Then, they both took to the kneeler. Bobby stood, hands in prayer, looking at the icon, and started talking/praying. (Only he, Maya, and the Virgin knew what he was saying, but it sounded prayerful to me :) ) Maya knelt (which she does in church) and was quiet, while Bobby spoke for all of us.

When he was finished, she stood and took my hand, he stepped off the kneeler and took my hand, and we saw the candles for the kids and Robert one last time before walking to the Nativity set. The kids were amazed by the animals and Maya began to identify the statues. "Daddy Joe... Mama Mary..." and then stunned silence and pleading eyes. "Jesus? Jesus?"

"Jesus wont be put in the manger until midnight on Christmas," I tell her.

"No Jesus?!? No Jesus!?!" She obviously very upset that she cant see a baby Jesus in the manger. One of the monks was standing off to the side as he walked by and I saw his lips curl up into a smile. After I promised her again that Jesus would indeed make his way to the manger by the weekend, we walked over to a grotto area with a Virgin Mary statue, which Bobby wanted to touch her feet while Maya gave her a high five. (I blame Aunt Sarah for this...) Then, before going back to the car, we had to go so the JPII statue (if we dont, there is a complete meltdown... I tell you, he visited the kids in the womb and they know his face- they REFUSE to go to the car if they havent visited his area at the Shrine first.)

Will they remember these winter visits to the Shrine? The heat of the candles against the stark chill of the cold air?

Peace... Joy... Memories... All wrapped up, a tight bow, binding.

It's this I hope for them. Not billions of presents or dollars spent. Not something that will break or accidently be thrown away. But this... The feelings... The warmth... The memories... The love. Our love for them, their love for the world.

On this eve of the Eve, I wish it for you too... Peace... Joy... and Love. Lots and lots and lots of love, wrapped up in your memories and remembrances.

Praying For Noah

2011-12-23T10:01:00.002-05:00

Whomever you pray to or wherever you send your thoughts, can you remember this family and their son, Noah, who is extremely ill?

Here Comes The Sun

2011-12-22T14:04:00.000-05:00

It's Winter Solstice today... Right now the sun is out, high in the sky, there's no sign of "winter" snow in sight, and it's warm enough to go sans coat. Well... For me and my flipflops at least... I have the common sense to put the kids in jackets...

It's a time of new beginnings... Of the birth of new things... A chance to change and to 'get it right'. Again. If we said good-bye to the old as we moved beyond the harvest season, then the rebirth of the sun gives us a chance to wake up again. To start a new year. To make resolutions (and try to keep them this time...) You know the deal.

Yesterday was the darkest, longest day. It was grey and rainy here. Overcast.

A good day for reflection, I suppose... A good day to let go... Not that I planned it that way.

I dropped the kids at my in-laws with plans to meet Peter for lunch in between my cleaning. We met and, as the conversation ended and we were leaving, we found ourselves discussing that topic that most infertiles and orphaned parents with living children find themselves discussing: more children. And, suprising enough, the following words were uttered.
Me: You sound as though you want to try and have more children.
Peter: And you sound as though you want to try and never have more.

I have to admit. The comment struck me off guard. I couldnt really speak. We had to part ways anyway- he needed to go to work and I needed to get back home to finish up. But I didnt go home. I found myself driving the longest way home that I could think of (thanks GPS), through tree covered, windy streets, as rain pelted the windshield, the windows open so the wind could rip through my hair. Chill the tears that refused to cry. Was he right? Do I never want to have more children?

It plagued me for the rest of the day. And then, on the darkest night, as the kids slept and we laid in back, the dark thoughts that I've kept nestled in the pit of my heart gushed out in sobs... Horrible, gut aching wails that I buried into my pillow and Peter's arms. Words I never thought I'd say. Feelings I never imagined I'd have.

Funny enough, the question isn't "Do I want more children?" That answer is yes. It's simple. When Peter and I discussed our hopes and dreams, having a large family was one of them. In today's society, having more than one or two is seen differently, I realize, but for us, it was something that we dreamed of. Nothing like have 2 dozen, but we joked that having enough to play a good round of baseball would be nice. :) (I guess since we are such Giant fans, we should have said "football" instead...) In a way, we have that dream fulfilled, but there is an emptiness of not having a house full of living children. And it's hard, too, to see the other side. We are SO fortunate to have Bobby and Maya; many parents in our situation dont go on to having living children, just as there are many infertile couples who live childfree not by choice. I do recognize the gift that we have in Bobby and Maya, and there is a part of me that thinks having more children is pushing the envelope on luck. A second key point is that I never want Bobby and Maya to feel like they werent/arent 'enough'. That parenting them is something how; it's not. It never could. Having more children wouldnt downplay the gift of parenting them, and I would hope they would never see it as such. But now I'm rambling...

The truth of it is that my pregnancies and births have been awful. They've been traumatic. They've been horrific. The only beauty from my four labors were that I was able to hold 5 beautiful children afterwards. But even that is marred with death, fear, and intervention. Until last night, I dont think that I've ever said the words "I had traumatic births", "I'm afraid of being pregnant and having another baby", "I havent let go of the stress and the hurt". And, as I said it and I cried for that woman- that naive, innocent woman who lost her first baby to miscarriage... that excited woman who finally got pregnant- and with twins no doubt!- who had the notion and dreams of "natural" homebirth ripped from her grasp... that hopeful woman who prayed and lost again and again... that terrified but trusting woman who begged for just.one.more.day for the two lives she tried so desperately to hold inside- as I wept for her and mourned for all that she lost and the wounds that cut her so deeply that she wasnt healed years (and in one case, over a decade) later, I took it in. It's not a "she"- it's "me". That woman is me. That hurt, that pain- it's mine. I own it.

It wasnt my fault. It wasnt my plan.

I did everything "right". I ate well. I took my prenatals. I did yoga. I saw my doctor. And nothing I did changed the fact that my pregnancies and births were awful.

I believed in birth- and I still do. Yet, I dont believe in my birth... in my ability to birth.

What an awful things... To be trained in how to help women give birth naturally... To believe that birth is beautiful... To hate your own body and your own inability...

The last year, as I've read and trained as a doula and childbirth educator, I think the healing started without me know. As I read and worked, these feelings of hurt and trauma were working their way forward. The texts and assignments brought out dialogue- self conversations and talks with Peter- about conception, pregnancy, and birth. And last night, as I submitted my final doula assignment and evaluated the less than half dozen CBE assignments I have left, I think it all came to a head. And the longest, darkest night of the year became mine.

And wounds became scars.

And the anger, the pain, the loss of what I'd dreamed of and hoped for in birth became acceptance of what I have left.

It finally was clear that the choice is to accept what I have and to release what I dont... what I can never have... and to choose to be whole. To choose to let the wounds heal and become scars of where I've been... But not of who I am.

I cried. I wept. I was angry and hurt and afraid. I lamented the fact that I'll never have a normal birth experience... that I'll never give birth with a midwife at my side, with a doula holding my hand, with Peter catching our baby as he or she is born at home... It's gone. It's a choice that was robbed from me. It's a gift ungiven, a thing I am incapable of.

And, in those tears, I accepted it. I accepted that the only birth experience now available to me is a clinical, surgical one. That, if I am lucky enough to beat the 'infertility' odds and conceive a child and carry it beyond the first trimester, then the TAC will provide me with the ability to carry to term- something I couldnt do without it- and that I will have a surgical delivery, attended by a team of obstetricians, and with Peter holding my hand. I accepted that there will never be a surprise due date (because I'll schedule a cesarean) and there will never be a natural, drug fee labor (because I'll have a spinal for the surgery).

The darkest night of the year gives way to the birth of the sun.

I've accepted it. I could argue that there isnt a choice but to accept what is, but it goes beyond that. The shadow of those feelings- of the stress of getting pregnant, staying pregnant, traumatic birth experiences, infant loss, hospital and NICU stays- that bleakness and pain that overshadowed the possibility of having more biological children... It was lifted when the sun poured through this morning.

It's fitting that the day is bright and warm, I think. A confirmation that I'm going to be okay. It snowed when Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander were born; it rained a bit on Bobby and Maya's birth day. Precipitation. Tears. Frozen tears... wet tears... But then the sun came out. I remember being angry that the sun could shine like there was no problem as I cradled Nicholas's body that next morning... I remember the sunlight streaming in through the living room window as I collapsed into tears on the floor when I came home after saying goodbye to Sophia's perfect little body for the last time at the funeral home before she was cremated... I remember the first walk I took in the warm sun when I came home after Alexander was born and the way I felt him when I hear the first bars of "Hear comes the sun..." on the radio... I remember the feel of the sun on my face when I stepped outside for the first time in months after Bobby and Maya were born, of how it felt when we took them for their neighborhood walk when they first came home. And today: how it felt, warm and bright and new, against my skin when I stepped outside. How it felt like I could finally breathe again. Like a weight was gone.

Birth Trauma is real. And while I'd never thought to apply the term to my own experiences or to seek out help, there are groups like Solice for Mothers and counselors available to help mothers heal. If only I'd looked... If only I'd not taken the "be happy for what you have" and the "be grateful that Bobby and Maya are okay" comments at face value and as ways to bury my own hurt without speaking out... If only I'd talked about the nightmares I had after my births, of the numbness that I felt when thinking about my pregnancies and the disassociation I would have so that I could put a positive spin on my experiences when talking to others, of the panic attacks that I've had since having the TAC 2 weeks ago and contemplating the possibility of actually getting pregnant and carrying a baby and delivering by a planned c-section (even though I've read about positive c-section experiences)...

Months ago, I talked about the possibility of having a tubal ligation and I even wrote the words "I loved being pregnant". I loved the idea of having a baby, no doubt, but I can finally accept that I didnt love the stress and the worry, that the time was a time of deep trauma in my life that I can only now full acknowledge. Later, I wrote about the Church not granting us a dispensation for a tubal and, in talking about pregnancy said "My body just wasnt meant to do this." What a slap for someone who believes in birth... What a sign of just how much I was hurting even though I wouldnt/couldnt/didnt admit it. It was clear in our life that we couldnt go on the way we were... The fear of getting pregnant and losing another child had sent our sex life into a nose dive and, while we were still intimate in nonphysical ways, we love each other and a healthy 'marital' relationship is a natural expression of that love. So, we consulted with Dr. Haney and I wrote about going to have the TAC placed, which I did, two and a half weeks ago. Since then, I havent really discussed sexuality or intimacy.

But, since coming home, it's been something out there... The first week was all about healing. Then there was that tentative 'first time', the whole 'does this still work the same way' type of thing. And nothing since. Not that I want this to turn into a soft-core porn ranting or anything. But I think the last week and a half, since that trial run, turned my hidden fears into overdrive. Fears of pregnancy, nightmares, panic attacks. Thankfully things that happened when the kids were sleeping... I've never been more grateful for them keeping me busy and my mind off of things I didnt want to think about. But recently, my CBE assignements kept bringing me back to the "Birth Is Natural" philosophy... and there'd be the weight on my heart... and the fear of intimacy because, God forbid,... Yes, I was going to say it, God forbid I get pregnant. Not because I didnt want more kids, but because, deep down, the idea of the pregnancy and delivery scared the shit out of me. Something else I couldnt admit to myself... The lies we tell ourselves- I'm an expert in those.

And we are back to the longest night of the year... And the tears and the fears and the release.

And a return to intimacy.

And I didnt worry that I was CD17 or that I might be ovulating or that I might get pregnant. I didnt think about it all. I didnt worry about the pregnancy or the surgery or anything else. I just was. And it was nice to feel the weightlessness that comes with just being. With just being with the person you love.

I cant say that there will be future pregnancies in my future; I cant say that there wont be either. Only biology can say that. But I'm not yet 32 and my cycle seems to have leveled off at about 32 days. I'm healthy now for the first time in a very long time. So there's no reason to say it's impossible. And my IC is cured, which puts me on equal footing with the next girl for a full term pregnancy. As far as delivery: 1/3 of women deliver by c-section, so I'm not exactly alone in that. Is it ideal? What I wanted? No. But it's mine; just like the grief and the pain were mine, the possibility and hope can be mine too.

So I'll take it. It doesnt mean there wont be rainy days or dark days ahead. It doesnt mean a life spared from grief or worry. It doesnt mean that I wont wonder about Nick, Sophie, and Alex, and who they might have grown up to be or that I wont miss them. It doesnt mean that I wont ever have a nightmare about a traumatic delivery. But, just like I drove a car again after the car accident that nearly killed Peter and I in 1999 (and brought its fair share of serious emotional trauma about even being in a car), I know that I can own myself... And come out on top of it.

Here comes the sun...

Prayers for Strangers

2011-12-20T11:37:00.005-05:00

Please say some prayers and send some thoughts to this family.

Holiday Greetings

2011-12-19T17:15:00.001-05:00

I'm a little late in sending out our holiday greetings. I'm normally a cards-out-on-the-day-after-Thanksgiving kind of gal, but with waiting for the adoption... Well, I was waiting and that meant I waited until the last minute. So, I finally ordered them today and, hopefully, they will get to the 213+ names on my mailing list before 2012 actually gets here. We shall see!!!

Annual Visit to Santa

2011-12-15T11:32:00.001-05:00

2012, 27 months old

This year, the kids were NOT having it. Hence Mama in the photo (and looking oh so "I do NOT want my picture taken"). But, the grandmas demand Santa photos! And, it's a cute way to keep up with the kids over the years.

2010, 15 months old

2009, 3 months old

I can't blame the kids for not wanting to sit with Santa this year. At 2 years old, they have the concept of a stranger down pat. We tell them "Don't talk to strangers", "Don't go off with strangers", and then your own mother sticks you in some strange guy's lap! Yeah, I wouldn't be overjoyed either.

But, for whatever it's worth, the 2011 picture has been taken, and I'm sure next year will be better! Hopefully... For the grandmothers' sakes...

The Announcement That Wasn't

2011-12-13T16:54:00.000-05:00

If you've seen me on FB today, you already know the outcome of this story...

So... What has Maya's former room become? A yoga studio? An office? A guest room?

A nursery?

Shortly after Bobby and Maya's second birthday, a friend of ours approached us. She and her husband had been asked by a mother to adopt the child growing in her womb and quickly approaching her due date. Raising the child was not an option for her. Our friend was asking for permission to pass on our information. Peter and I talked about it and, ultimately, felt like we were called to foster an older child once Bobby and Maya grew up a little more. But, we also felt like we should talk to the mother, if for no other reason to encourage her to raise the baby or to seek out an adoption agency, where there are countless couples waiting for a baby to adopt. As I spoke to this mom on the phone and we shared stories about our children (she has a number of older children and a child Bobby and Maya's age) as well as her reasons for choosing adoption and my adoption history, it was chilling to hear how much her story of this pregnancy and my own conception/prebirth story lined up. And then the kickers: she told me that the child was conceived in Nicholas and Sophia's birth month and due on Alexander's birthday. After some discussion, we told her that, once the child was born, if she truly felt she couldn't raise him or her, then we would do so with all the love in our world.

And then there was silence. We got our ducks in a row (which, thankfully they were mostly in because of the previous adoption discussion) and waited. In the middle of the November, conversations increased and adoption of this precious baby stepped closer and closer towards reality. We laundered linens and clothes and with a bit of fear mixed with hope, set up the nursery. We also started using baby language with Bobby and Maya.

The day before her due date, Mom was feeling pressure but no contractions. Alex's birthday (and the EDD) came and went... Thanksgiving brought us no news... The day after gave us our annual tree trimming get together and still nothing... November came to a close and December began... One week post dates... I went to Chicago for the TAC, saddened that I might miss the birth, but nothing... 2 weeks past her EDD, still nothing... So now, today, the day before what would be 3 weeks post dates and the idea of a baby in the house for Christmas comes to a crashing halt.

Things the birthmother had told us started to not add up. And then, the due date and conception story... When I spoke to her today, she was incensed that I told her our attorneys would need a new due date to rework the paperwork and that this would require us to talk about the birthfather. She said that she no longer wanted to work with us and slammed the phone down. So that is that, it seems.

Pennsylvania (as most states I'm sure) has strict laws that require birthfather's sign off on adoptions. The only exceptions are where the mother has no idea who the father is, such as in cases of assault. In that scenario, the mother must appear in court and testify to the attack (in closed court), resulting in the judge terminating the rights of the father. As a survivor of assault, it nauseates me to think that people would use this scenario to skirt the law on birthfather notification. I dont know what's going on in this situation, to be honest, but as the discussion on a new due date came up, I know the door came to a crushing close. And that says something.

We are saddened, but there are many emotions. Once again, because we didnt go into this planning to adopt a child, there arent the emotions that many pre-adoptive parents may feel. And, because we went in with eyes WIDE open, we knew this was a very real possibility. We've even encouraged the birthmom to review her choices and to know that, should she want to keep and raise the baby, we'd be supportive of that. So, in that way, we are okay and at peace. But there is still sadness... Still the ache of having that room ready and knowing that it is to remain empty. Of having to explain to the kids (especially Maya, who asks "Baby? Here?" that there wont be a baby here... Not right now... Perhaps not ever... We dont know what the future holds.) There is also some relief, if I am honest. The last few months have felt like we were dangling on a string- especially the last few weeks. Wondering, not knowing, waiting for information that didn't come. Being told there would be doctor's appointments and updates, only to learn that the appointments werent made or were missed. To that, I am relieved to be able to know that part of our journey is over. I cant help but hope that things will be okay and that the baby will be loved and taken care of. That hope, I've decided, will cloud over whatever other feelings I have.

But, especially compounded with my blogger friend's heartache at burying her son today, my heart is heavy.

I dont know what Maya's old bedroom will become. Perhaps I'll use it as an office for Mending Heart Bellies... We shall see... Right now, I think I just want to lay down and not think of anything.

Unexpected and Hearbroken

2011-12-13T11:44:00.002-05:00

A dear blog friend, Tanika, and I have been through the rough things that only those who've lost babies can get... That hurt, that grief... She lost three daughters due to IC. I was actually the person who referred her to Dr. Haney, sight unseen actually, where she had her TAC placed. She had a beautiful pregnancy with her son, Ethan, who just turned a year old a bit back, and was anxiously awaiting the birth of their second son, Israel. Her c-section was scheduled for the end of this week. Everything was fine... Perfect pregnancy... A few days before her c-section, Israel's heartbeat stopped. She recently delivered her beautiful, perfect son... As I write this, she is probably selecting the outfit to wear to his funeral, which is today at 2pm.

There is a lump in my throat that wont go away. Tears that lace my eyelids that I try to wipe away so that the kids dont know I'm upset. There simply arent words... But if you could find some and pop over to her blog to let her know that you are with her today in spirit, I'd be appreciative.

Leaving Chicago

2011-12-07T11:01:00.001-05:00

Today is my last day in Chicago; Sarah and I are mostly packed and, currently, are enjoying the free wi-fi at the Panera 2 blocks from our hotel, where we are having coffee and breakfast. I walked here and, although it took what felt like forever, I feel like I'll be able to walk the five blocks to the Metro so that we can get back to the airport easily (and way more cheaply than taking a taxi).

I've decided to take half of the recommended pain medication (which works just fine for me) until I get home (at least). Dr. Haney had told me that recovering from this surgery in comparison to recoverying from my c-section at 70-80 pounds heavier, would be easier and he's right. It hurts, but it's a world of difference. The pain is similar, but I feel more movable, more able to do what I need to do. Which is nice, considering I'm going home to take care of my family in addition to healing.

I couldnt have done this trip without Sarah. I truly couldnt have. She slept like a new mom; everytime I got up, she asked if I was okay or needed help. When I was awake, she talked to me. When I was tired, she put me to sleep (literally). If she ever wants a career as a Reikist, she could set her own fortune. Whether it was stroking my hair and forehead or gently rubbing my shoulders, she sent in this wave of peaceful energy that helped with pain relief before I took any narcotics and brought me to a peaceful place that allowed me sleep. It wasnt just lugging our crap around while I was in the hospital or sleeping on the cot so she could be sure I was okay or filling my prescriptions so I didnt have to. We may have joked about her being my nurse, but truly, she was a godsend and I'm so damn fortunate that if I dont cut myself off, I may just go on and on about how wonderful she's been to me these last few days.

Funny story: I have a low resting heart rate because of all the running (45-55 is average). This freaked out some of my PSAs in the hospital, and I had to be monitored every 3 hours. (Why? I have no idea...) So, every 3 hours, someone would come into the room, check my BP/Temp/HR and then go. Wee hours of the morning, this happens. Sarah, mommy that she was to me, is by my side and, as soon as they are gone, rubs my head and I drift to sleep. Moments later, a phlebotomist comes in. (Side note, I have NINE sticks for the one IV that worked during my surgery... Crappy Veins to the 10th degree here). Sarah said her first thought was "I JUST GOT HER TO SLEEP! WTF!" I laughed and told her she now truly has an idea of what it's like to take care of a baby, get them to sleep, and then have the doorbell rang. We had quite the laugh over that.

So, we'll soon be leaving the Windy City. Had some deep dish for dinner last night (thanks Giordano's for delivering) and topped it off with cannoli (which kicked serious delicious booty!). Saw the City from atop the Hancock Building. Got to spend time with Sarah's sis. While this wasnt a vacation by any stretch of the imagination, it was a good trip for what it was.

The staff at UIC were AMAZING. They were kind and caring; it reminded me of the loving care I received at Lankenau (but without the seven week stay). Dr. Haney was amazing; the nurses who cared for me were exactly what you want your nurses to be like. Everyone, from housekeeping to dietary to medical personnel made the hospital stay as nice as it could have been, and for that, I'm appreciative and grateful.

Peter and the kids have had a great time at home too. While he says it's clear they miss me, he's loved his daddy time and so have they. They've been fine, and that's a relief. I miss them and cant wait to see them and wrap my arms around them, but it's nice to know that they have had a good time being home with their papa and that it wasn't a terrible nightmare to get them to bed, etc.

Well, time to log off and get going!

Feeling It Now!

2011-12-06T15:18:00.001-05:00

I was, perhaps, a bit too optimistic about the lack-of-pain! Late morning, the soreness moved into the wow-I-just-had-surgery realm. So, now I'm taking a percocet every 6 hours to keep the edge off until I get home. Let's be honest... The place that you dont want to be in pain is a 2.5 hour flight home!

So... We'll be heading to our hotel in the next hour or so, once I'm discharged. And, hopefully, I'll be feasting on deep dish tonight (assuming I'm not nauseous!)!!

Coming Around

2011-12-06T06:26:00.001-05:00

Thanks for all the warm thoughts and prayers. I appreciate the FB and text messages. While it's all fresh in my mind, I'll relay the last few days, although I'm sure recovery info will be included as the days progress.

Sarah and I flew into Chicago Sunday afternoon. What a great public transportation system (as compared to Philly). We got out of Midway, went straightaway to a waiting METRO car, and were at the stop for our hotel on the Loop in less than a half hour. Our hotel, the Congress Plaza, makes you feel like you've stepped back into the days of Elliot Ness and Al Capone (which was one of the reasons I chose it- that and a SWEET deal). We checked in and, although we intended to use the "24 Hour Fitness Center", the only bummer of the hotel was the fact that it was a terrifying room (that smelled bad) in the basement. I wouldnt go there alone (and it didnt feel safe with us together!), so we trashed the idea of hitting the treadmills (and I'm glad I ran in the morning). There's no free internet at the hotel, which sucks too (and wasn't clear when making reservations or checking in... Bummer... May hit up a local coffee shop tomorrow to log in...)

We met up with Sarah's sister, Maureen, at the Signature Lounge in the Hancock Bldg for overpriced drinks but a priceless view. Well worth it. Then, we went downstairs for dinner (at Cheesecake Factory). While I'm normally a eat local kind of girl, I needed to pack in some serious food for the next day, since I knew eating would be pretty much out of the question. And I wanted a slice of cheesecake. So it all worked out.

Bright and early Monday morning, we took a cab to UIC and checked in. I went into pre-op relatively quickly and then the joys of finding a vein kicked in. God has made it clear to me in two main ways that I would never be able to be an IV drug user. My veins are pains to find and get, and I get extremely pukey with narcotics. Fun times. So, the poor nurse tried twice before calling an anesthesiologist, who, on her third try was able to get a vein- in my wrist. Like where you slice your wrist area. If you've never had an IV there, I can tell you it's not the most comfortable place in the world... But, hey, it was in. They hoped that once I was out, they'd get another one elsewhere. (The tried 2 more sticks when I was unconscious... But, that didnt work either. I tell you- crappy veins.)

So, Ani... One of the initial reasons I felt okay about the TAC was that Dr. Haney told me I could have a spinal if I was uncomfortable with general. I've had 2 spinals, but never had 'gone under' and wasnt looking forward to being asleep for surgery. Both he and the anesthesiologist were fine with whatever I chose, but because of the possible scaring of Bobby and Maya's c/section and not knowing how long I'd need to be under (since the spinal has a more finite period than general), not to mention the fact that I didn't sleep at all on Sunday night (nerves and missing the fam), I decided to take a sleep. As Sarah joked with me (they let her back with me after I was initially gowned up in pre-op until I was being led to the OR, which was unexpected and really nice), it's great when we make the grown up decisions last minute and under duress!

I got on the table and laid down, was given "oxygen", and the next thing I remember, I was waking up in the recovery ICU and several hours had passed. A strange sensation to say the least. They explained that my IV was hooked up to a morphine drip that I could use on-demand, and that I had a catheter in, so there was no need to get out of bed. While I can tell you that I was uncomfortable and crampy, I was no where near where I would consider using an Advil, let alone morphine that would cause me to hurl. The nurses were all surprised this morning, when my IV was pulled, that I hadn't used any of the drip; the pain wasn't that much. But I'm skipping ahead...

What I've learned post TVC and C/S is that I cant eat after anesthesia or surgery. No drugs, no food. Water and ginger ale are hard enough to hold down, even with anti-nausea meds (like Zophran). Dr. Haney told Sarah to expect me to be completely out of it for the day and to not even know she was there, probably because he presumed I'd be doped up. But, other than being tired and taking catnaps throughout the day, I was fine. Sore, crampy (because, of course, my monthly was due and came right on schedule!), but fine. I ordered dinner, but didnt have more than a few sips of soup and bites of bread before I felt like I'd be sick. I kept it and tried two rounds, spread out by an hour, but ultimately, I felt bad that it had barely been touched. Sarah was a great nurse! She made sure there was always water and ice and gingerale ready. Whenever I was woken in the middle of the night, she was right by my side, just being there or rubbing my head until I fell back to sleep. She had the option of staying with her sister, but instead, slept on a rollaway (where she's actually dozing now, poor thing). Because my resting heartrate is lower (45-55: thanks running!), I had my vitals checked every 3 hours, which meant lights on every three hours. Add to it the changing of nursing staff, changing of my IV bag, emptying of the cath, and a middle of the night blood count check, and there werent a lot of solid hours of sleep. She was a trooper! My night nurse was awesome and gave me a middle-of-the-night room service menu, and around midnight, I ate half a PB&J sandwich, some applesauce, a PB cookie, and split a Choc Chip Cookie Sarah had gotten from the AuBonPain downstairs. It may not sound great, but it was the Four Seasons for me because I actually wanted to eat it. Before heading off to bed, I had some liquid Motrin and Zophran put through my IV to try and allow me some uninterupted sleep. Honestly, though, pain management hasn't been a problem.

This morning, around 4:45am local time, my nurse came in to remove my catheter and IV. So now, I'm officially off-the-hook. :) Sarah helped me get out of bed for a very brief walkaround and I'm sitting up in bed now. I'm sore. There's no denying that. But I can't say that I'm in pain. Some of the cramps are menstrual, some of the pain is gas pain (which is common post general ani, anyway), and some of it, no doubt, is from the surgery itself. It's almost 6am here and I'm hoping to get a shower after I see Dr. Haney on his rounds and get info about the incision, dressing, etc. He wrote a script for Percocet, which is acetaminophen tripped out with oxycodone), for home use, but I plan on asking for a high-dose ibuprophen instead. We'll see what he says and his suggestion.

***
I talked to the kids on the phone last night. It was great; I missed them a lot. Today, is St. Nicholas's Day, so last night Peter told them the stories and they left out a shoe. This morning, they will find a dollar coin and some tasty treats! I'm really sad to miss this...

They are doing fine. I had no doubts about Peter's ability to do it; I was more concerned about how they would handle not seeing me for a few days. While they've had some moments, he tells me that they are doing fine for the most part. He took them to the Mall on Sunday afternoon, they went to the playground yesterday, and I'm sure he'll find something fun for them today and tomorrow as well! I'll get home around dinner time tomorrow, so I'm not expecting to really do anything out-of-the-house with them.

***
I've had a lot of folks ask if we are pregnant or if the TAC is a precursor to becoming pregnant. First off, I'm not pregnant. As to getting pregnant, Dr. Haney assures me that I could now carry a pregnancy with no concern, and I don't doubt that. His exact words yesterday were "You don't go buy a gown and not go to the dance." But, we aren't planning another pregnancy. We don't believe in birth control, so is another pregnancy possible? Yes. Would we be grateful and excited? You bet! Terrified (even with the TAC)? Completely. We're not planning on trying to chart out cycles, time intercourse, take fertiity meds, etc. If our family is complete as is, then so be it. If another soul chooses us to be his or her parents, then we are delighted. But it's not as simple as 1-2-3 for us. We chose the TAC as a preventative measure. I didnt expect to get pregnant again; last year, I was shocked. Although Grace's pregnancy ended in an early miscarriage, it did bring sight to the fact that a pregnancy would be possible and we knew then that we needed to figure out what to do. Hence the TAC.

A TAC won't prevent a miscarriage and, in the event I had a miscarriage in the first trimester, I would either have a natural loss or a D&C like the average mother. A second trimester miscarriage or stillbirth at term would, like a live birth, be handled as a cesarean delivery. The trade off for having a full term pregnancy via the TAC is required c/s. (for more information on Transabdominal Cerclages, click here and here) In my case, however, of being able to carry a healthy pregnancy into the second trimester, Dr. Haney feels that we could have success with multiple, full term pregnancies, including twins if we were so blessed again. But whether or not there are more babies at casa Haytko, via adoption or birth, is something we're leaving to the Universe.

Thanks again for all the get-well wishes and warm thoughts. I'll post more in the future, once I'm out and about. Sarah and I are (fingers crossed) going to grab some deep dish for dinner!!

A Glimpse Of What Might Have Been

2011-12-01T12:35:00.001-05:00

The other day, after two beautiful days of sunshiney bliss, it was still warm but rainy. So, to stave off the 'what-do-you-mean-we-can't-play-outside' doom&gloom stares, we went to Mr. B's for some indoor jungle gyming. Normally, we are there about 20 minutes. It's a 20 minutes drive, 20 minutes of yelling/jumping/climbing/etc (sometimes with Mommy nursing a delicious cup of locally roasted, fair trade coffee), then 20 minutes home. It's a great, after-nap/late-afternoon/'where's-daddy' adventure. So, it's around 3:30 when we leave. I plan on being home by 4:30 at the latest... Before dark, especially with the rain and the holiday shoppers.

We get there and there's a break in the clouds! Yay! The kids love to walk up the parking lot, identifying the numbers on the buildings as we go, but in the rain, it's a hang on and sprint trial. They were thrilled with the light drizzle and the hand holding, and off we went. At the same time, a dad and his two daughters began making their way into the coffeeshop and, politely, he held the door for us. I thanked him and we made polite chat as we walked the four kids towards the play area. Shoes came off and kids went wild. He (like many parents) walked back into the coffee shop (there are glass walls so that you can eat/use your laptop/have adult talk and still be able to see your kids; inside, there are chairs for parents who stay inside). I stay inside because I dont like the idea of leaving toddling 2 year olds to fend for themselves with older kids (and because I'm slightly overprotective, I guess). If it's just them, sometimes I'll go out and grab coffee, but 99% of the time, I'm inside. Texting, chatting with the kids, occasionally even playing with them! (it's meant for kids under 10... bummer...)

One of the little girls takes a liking to Maya. They are talking (as though she understands M completely) and laughing and climbing. All the way to the top. Several times. I may have gotten a little misty... And Bobby, deep in the thick with a group of boys, is tumbling and playing and climbing on the lower levels.

When the dad came in to do a check, we were talking and he mentioned the girls were twins... Almost 4 years old... And that's when my breath caught.

I have almost 4 year old twins... Had... Have... Love... Miss...

A glimpse of Maya playing with an older sister. The laughing and the secret sharing... The playing with hair and twirling around so skirts swishy and sash-shay. Of Bobby, entangled with older brothers... Flipping over the jungle gym... Running and sliding... Laughing conspiratorially together.

We were there for over an hour. Even telling the kids that they were going to miss Daddy arriving home didn't encourage them out of their play. (And, when Maya looks at you with those big doe eyes and says, while sighing at the same time, "one more? one more?" it's hard to say anything other than "okay, one more time and THEN WE GO!")

When Bobby's playmates left for the day, Maya and her newfound friend played with him on the lower levels until he wanted to climb up to the top with them. (Which was sweet. His buddies left and he called out to Maya, who was on the third level. She ran to the fourth level slide, slid down, and was there in an instant, and when her friend said "want to slide?" she shook her head 'no' and said something that I'll assume was "Let's play with my brother" and the three of them played together, until they were off again!)

And then yesterday... The house quiet since the kids were at their grandparents while I cleaned... Glancing at the tree... A play on the picture window and the shadows cast by the multicolored lights... For a second, I saw them. All of them. Children yet older than time would have them all today. I couldn't breathe, couldn't stop the sob from escaping, couldn't keep my knees standing as I slumped to the couch. No words... Just heartbroken tears, wept in silence, hot against my cheek.

Often times, I think those words "If they were all here" and it is another knife through the heart. It's an impossibility. They could never all be here. I could have five children (9 children) here right now... But the uniqueness of each of babies was wrapped up in them... And that uniqueness, I dont know that that could be... Not in this universe... And then the thoughts brought on by my upcoming surgery, of the talk with Dr. Haney, of hearing that a TAC could have prevented the losses... I know that I couldnt have saved Nicholas and Sophia; we didnt know and, not knowing, there isn't a doctor in the world who would do a preventative TAC without basis. Alexander? Maybe... Just maybe there was a chance...

But that thought pattern... That bargaining one child for another... That taking this what might have been for what is... It's something that crosses my mind (and this blog) regularly. It always will I suppose. No amount of being grateful for all I have, for being supremely blessed for each and one of my children- for what I had when those who have died were alive with me and for what they bring each day now as well as for what I have with Bobby and Maya-, nothing can really quell that longing and wondering I suppose.

And, when I see those moments, like at Mr. B's, it makes me long for living siblings for Bobby and Maya. For them to be able to express their love and joy with other children on a regular basis. We are lucky that we have so many friends with kids older and younger, for whom Bobby and Maya can have that relationship. When their godsiblings or other friends' kids are here, it's a joy to see them all together. From the oldest ones to the ones closer in age, it's an image of family that never fails- even now- to bring a smile to my face.

As December comes to a start, I find my heart heavy. There's the missing and the longing and the wondering 'what if', but it's more than that. It's a deep rooted thankfulness for the fullness that life has brought, for the gifts of my family, for the love we have. For all that we have, and especially all we have together.

Of what is.

Unseasonable

2011-11-29T14:07:00.000-05:00

It's unseasonably warm. Yesterday, it felt like early fall or mid-spring... Temperatures in the high 60s-early 70s... Me in short sleeves and flipflops (okay, so I'm often in flips regardless of the temps...), the kids in their Giants shirts (long sleeved) (although us sporting our team pride didnt help, since they got creamed by NO). It was gorgeous; we played outside at home and went to a local playground twice. We finished off the day making some cookies. Fun day. Warm day!

Today, another warm one, albeit rainy. I did a speed run this morning (only 2 miles, but faster than my normal running pace) and came home soaked. Then I topped it off with a lovely morning spent on the porch with some coffee, listening to the rain and birds... Later, the kids and I dropped off our library books and angel tree gifts, then I took them to a local farm store, where we bought eggs and glassed milk.

I remember the days of the infant seats, snapping them into the stroller and maybe even running them through rain (who am I kidding- I can't think of one time that I purposely took them out in the rain). Then, there were the days of getting them out and carrying them because they were no longer in the infant seats but were still too little to walk. Then, the walking but immediately putting in a cart. And now, the walking... Sometimes even without holding hands.

Yesterday, at Target, I pushed a cart and, after a while, Bobby wanted down so he held my hand and I pushed. Then, Maya wanted out of the sling. So, down she went. She was fine just walking and telling me what she saw, versus Bobby who still wanted my hand. So, there we were, the three of us, no one "riding", all walking. Today, at the farm store (which is not a place you want kids to run hogwild), they walked. No hands, listening to stand by me while I loaded our 8 dozen eggs and got our glass jar of milk... While I paid and signed the receipt... While I loaded our canvas bag on my shoulder... Then, listening, taking my hands, Bobby opening the door and us walking back to the car in drizzle.

Babies no more, toddlers... rapidly moving quicker than I dare admit, towards preschoolers. The first two years flew by; will the rest of this year do the same?

Maya talks ALL-THE-TIME. She is never without something to say. Bobby, although quieter, is mroe than happy to school you with letters and numbers. They both know (and recite regularly) the alphabet... They can count to 20... Bobby can count backwards from 10... Maya makes the sign of the cross ("In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit"). They tell us what they need or want, and, in many cases, sign it too. (We've taught them, thanks to an on-demand Comcast collection, about 30 signs and they picked them up super fast). Even under the weather (Maya had the sniffles Sunday and Monday), they manage to surprise me with something they've picked up every single day.

Our tree is up with no gate; the kids love it but dont try to take it apart (to the point that we are thinking of getting a small tree for the playroom that they can decorate with soft, kid friendly ornaments). In my head, I still see those two tiny babies nestled against my chest, but when I blink, it's the two of them standing there... Growing up...

When I was younger, the years seemed to drag by and then, the older I got, the seasons moved quicker through their moons... Unseasonably fast... Now, even more so...

Robert's Run 2011 Photos

2011-11-29T13:37:00.001-05:00

A special thank you to all who donated in Robert's memory. We were only $5 shy of our $500 goal due to your generosity.

Click here to see all photos

Sharing a Room

2011-11-26T02:57:00.000-05:00

I mentioned earlier that Bobby and Maya are now sharing a room. It's quite the interesting thing around here!

They enjoyed sharing a bedroom while we were on vacation. When we got back, we discussed it for a few days before deciding to give it a go, but ultimately decided to go for it.

The downsides first. The kids moved into Bobby's room, which was by far the larger of the two. But, with the step 2 beds (which we still ADORE), it's definitely a space that doesnt need more furniture! They have their changing table in the corner by the door, their bean bag chairs stay under the beds unless they are playing with them, and their 3 drawers each moved into the closet. It's clear to see in the closet that Maya has more clothes!!! (We get a lot of girl handmedowns but not really boy ones).

The good stuff... Naps are shorter to start (15 minutes is now a rare long event; I can do them both in easily 5-10 minutes- including a diaper change beforehand) and last longer (up to 2 and a half to 3 hours from 90 minutes to 2 hours). Bedtime hasnt seen a reduction in duration, but we implemented story time, prayers, and songs while on vacation and it's really nice to do that as a family. The kids grab their night-night books and we all settle down in the space between their beds. That part is really nice. But, after bath, bedtime ritual is still easily an hour (and sometimes more) which I'd like to shorten (namely because I am so tired by the end of the day that I want to collapse into my own bed! :) )

So, all in all, this is really working out for us and we're pretty excited!

And what's going on in Maya's old room? That's for another post!

Happy Thanksgiving 2011

2011-11-24T03:05:00.000-05:00

O God, when I have food,
help me to remember the hungry;
When I have work,
help me to remember the jobless;
When I have a home,
help me to remember those who have no home at all;
When I am without pain,
help me to remember those who suffer,
And remembering,
help me to destroy my complacency;
bestir my compassion,
and be concerned enough to help;
By word and deed,
those who cry out for what we take for granted.
Amen.

-Samuel F. Pugh

Love, Aunt Sarah

2011-11-23T18:39:00.001-05:00

Hi Cuddlebug!!!
Happy 3rd Birthday!! It hardly seems like 3 years, but then it some ways it seems like forever since you graced us with your presence for a short time. I've felt your presence so much more this year than in years past. Feeling you on runs when the street lights flicker on, and knowing you are here when the doorway lights flash on and off. They are doing that more and more lately, and I know that it's because you don't want to be forgotten. Don't worry little one, you are not, and never will you be. :)
I love your encouragement. There have been several times in the past few months where I have parked myself on the couch, debating on getting something started, and procrastinating in true Aunt Sarah style. When I finally decide to get up and get going, and commit to getting off the couch, I see the lights flicker in the doorway. I love this and I know it's your way of saying "Good job, Aunt Sarah! It's the right choice and I know you can do it, I am proud of you!!" This was really special when I decided to go out running right before a storm. I knew that I would get home safely because I could feel you cheering me on.
Thank you for encouraging Bobby and Maya to take chances and be fearless. Thank you for being you.
Much love,
Aunt Sarah

Happy 3rd Birthday, Alexander

2011-11-23T03:45:00.000-05:00

My Sweet Cuddlebug, Alexander. Today is your third birthday. Three years since I held you outside the womb... since your soccer legs kicked their way into this world in a breech birth... since you curled up inside the warmth of your father's hands and fell asleep... Three years of sleep... Of missing... Of wanting... Of loving...

Your peace still radiates in our home and our lives. The gifts you gave us simply by being our son make their ways known in the things we do as we traverse our journey here on earth. My gift... My peace bringer... How much I will always be thankful for you as my son, words will never be able to express.

While your older siblings have always come to me in the rain, I feel you more in the breeze. Sometimes it is a cool burst of air on a hot summer run... Othertimes a deep inhale of icy frost as I walk to the postbox... But always there... Always with me... (And, whenever the street lights flash during my runs, I always know for sure, that you my little soccer player, are running the miles alongside me.)

Three years since the pushes that brought you here... Since the time that you held on for days, against all the odds... Since you gave us hope and peace and strength that we didnt know even existed.

Happy Birthday, my sweet boy. I love you so much.

The Last Three...

2011-11-22T13:48:00.001-05:00

Today was the last day I held Alexander on the inside, three years ago. It was this day, around 11pm, that an ultrasound showed his placenta detaching from my uterus. The doctor had shook his head... Our little guy, who had beat the odds to get fully back in the womb after his little feet dangled beyond the cervix... Who had stayed put in spite of his amniotic sac breaking... He was telling us that it was time to be born, both into this world and the next.

There was a peace that I can't explain, once we realized that his time for this dual birth had come. There were tears too, but the knowing what the road would hold helped. Knowing what would need to happen... What we wanted for our son and ourselves and our families... That knowledge was powerful and helpful. Priests were called, prayers were said, miracles were asked for, preparations were made. And, early the next morning, on the 23rd, Alexander came into our arms and passed quickly into the Otherworld.

I dont have anger any more about that. I'd be lying if I said that my sadness has completely been replaced by peace and harmony about his life and death. But there is peace. With him, perhaps, more than Nicholas and Sophia. Maybe it is because little Alex is my running buddy. Perhaps it is because he was such a little bundle of peace himself. I dont know. But as I recite what I consider his mantra (below), the heaviness on my soul is lightened... My lips turn up in a smile as I remember the pitter patter of him playing soccer with my bladder... And I can take a breath and smell the sweetness of him.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive.

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

VACATION!!! Recap

2011-11-19T00:03:00.000-05:00

Over Halloween and into the first week of Thanksgiving, we took a vacation to the Massanutten Resort, outside of Harrisonburg, VA. After braving an unseasonable snow storm (and yes, I was wearing flipflops on the way down... not my lightbulb moment), we arrived and ended up having a GREAT time.

The kids especially loved the Children's Museum (to the point that we went enough it made it worthwhile to purchase a year's membership- which also allows access to the Please Touch Museum in Philly!) Bobby rode a horse, they both loved the waterpark, and Maya- through her signing- made friends with a child who was deaf (and mourned when he left the waterpark for the day). Peter and I even even snagged a date day, where we visited a Whole Foods (no joke...), ate delicious locally grown foods at small cafes, and wined ourselves with local vineyards!!! The kids wound down each day with storytime and a shared bedroom (which they loved.... We are trying it at home, but that's for another post!)

All in all, it was a wonderful time!!!

For all the great pics, you can check out our Vacation Pictures. October and November are up, too, and in the November ones, you can check out the future coaches of the NY Giants!!!

2 years ago...

2011-11-18T10:04:00.001-05:00

2 years ago...
Bobby came home from the hospital...
Maya came home from the hospital...
My mom and grandma visited...

And now, these guys are active toddlers who talk up a storm and my mom just visited (and went home, sob sob sob).

What a huge difference 2 years makes!!!

Storytime with Daddy, Nov 2011

Newly home and together at last, Nov. 2009

World Prematurity Day

2011-11-16T09:54:00.001-05:00

Today, Nov. 17, 2011, is World Prematurity Day, a day when we try to bring awareness to the plight of premature babies (and their families). Recently, I was discussing prematurity and the discussion of "full term", "post dates", and "prematurity" were all on the table. It's funny to believe that eons ago, a human was expected to bake around 10 months or 40-42 weeks (from conception, not LMP dating). Then, we decided that 38-40 weeks (conception dating) was full term, then that became LMP dating, which deducted another 2 weeks. And then, we expanded the range from 37+ LMP weeks as full term, which, in theory means that the newly "full term" born human is actually about 5 weeks premature. First five weeks? Babies are learning how to hold their necks up, breast (or bottle) feed, sleep, roll... Things that newborns of other species have us beat on... Not that anyone is keeping score (or are they???). It's crazy when we think about that special first 5-6 weeks of the full-term newborn... What would that be like if, evolutionary wise, we still carried our babies that long?

But when most people think of premature, they are thinking of prior to 37 weeks. You have your "late preterm" (typically 32-36 weekers), your "preterm" (28-31 weekers), your "premature" (25-27 weekers), your "micropreemies" (22-24 weekers), and then the "severely preterm" (2nd trimester born alive babies through 21 weeks) who very rarely survive. (I only know of one 21 weeker who has survived and is now 4 years old, although I'm sure there are more).

We humans need that third trimester- and all (or at the very least most) of it- in order to get the best we can of our life on the inside. Many organizations are calling for better prenatal health and education to try and force down the statistics of prematurity. They are asking that doctors not schedule C-sections or induce prior to 42 LMP weeks (some places stop at 40 weeks), unless there is a significant medical (read: NOT SCHEDULE) based need. Will that happen? Who knows... What is clear is that we arent, in my lifetime at least, going to wipe it out completely. Issues like IC, HELLP, Pre-eclampsia, TTTS, and other life-threatening (to mother or child) issues will always be there and until we can wipe those off the map, premature babies will be the victims of issues beyond modern medicine's control, and all we will be able to do is mitigate the issues that follow.

It will always break my heart to know that Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander were born too soon for the "mechanical womb" of the NICU to save, even as I also know that a mechanical womb (today at least) cant replicate for babies what a mother's womb provides... That birth is the culmination of life in the womb and trying to fix that when the womb goes defunct for a day or a lifetime doesnt stop the effects that prematurity can have. I am eternally grateful for the NICU (and its doctors and nurses) who saved Bobby and Maya and supported their journey into a healthy infant and now toddler hood. There aren't words for our family's gratefulness to them... But when you think that 1 out of 13 premature babies will die... That birth before 37 weeks gestation is THE #1 KILLER of babies... There aren't words for that either...

It's my dream that one day the world wont need a prematurity awareness day... That, one day, we will have the technology available to save mothers the ache of birthing perterm babies at any stage of prematurity... That babies wont have to struggle in order to live... But until that day comes, we owe it to each and every one of them- those who died, those who live with severe disabilities, those who live with handicaps we cant see, and those who live with good health- to educate ourselves and those aware us. To make this issue known. To make sure that preventable cases of prematurity are prevented and to do our best to mitigate those that arent preventable. One day at a time, one step at a time. Thirteen MILLION babies are born prematurely each year and one million babies die every year because of prematurity; one day, let's drop that number to less than one.

Give the voiceless a voice. Blog it. Speak up. Educate.

I am a preemie who gave birth to preemies. I long for a world where my children can say "I am a preemie who was able to give my children the fullness of life in the womb." It may not happen, but it is my dream and my hope for my children and their children and their children... And yours.

World Prematurity Day on Facebook
March of Dimes: World Prematurity Day
EFCNI Prematurity Awareness

For those in the United States...
In 2006, Congress passed the PREEMIE Act (P.L. 109-450), which expanded research and developed a public-private agenda aimed at reducing preterm labor and delivery. Since passage, the U.S. has seen a decline in preterm birth for three years in a row. The PREEMIE Act needs to be reauthorized in order to continue the important work that is under way. If enacted, the PREEMIE Reauthorization Act (S. 1440/ H.R. 2679) will enhance research, education and interventionactivities aimed at improving pregnancy outcomes. Show your support for World Prematurity Day by calling your Members of Congress now and urging them to cosponsor the PREEMIE Reauthorization Act of 2011 (S. 1440/ H.R. 2679).

THANK YOU!!!

2011-11-14T07:33:00.001-05:00

A huge thank you to all those who made donations to Alex's Lemonade Stand for Robert's Run or who made local donations in Robert's memory. Your heartfelt generosity deeply moved our family, and we are grateful for your support.

(My official run time was 29:47. No records broken but it was a fun time!)

Final Countdown...

2011-11-10T09:10:00.001-05:00

Only 2 more days to go! Help us fight neuroblastoma and win!!!

Deja Vu

2011-11-08T02:39:00.000-05:00

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...

Samhain

2011-11-07T08:24:00.000-05:00

Samhain (pronounced sow-wen) isn't widely celebrated anymore (except by non neopagans or earthworshipers or those who carry on the Dia de los Muertos traditions of their culture), since cross-quarter days (the days that fall directly inbetween equinoxes and solstices) usually pass by without notice. This year, Samhain falls on Nov 7th at 1:27pm (eastern time), although the observance is traditionally Halloween-into-All Saint's Day. Most of the hoopla (for lack of a better term) is the same. The dressing up, the trick-or-treating, the foods commonly associated with Halloween, the jackolantern... Bonfires... Milk and honey by the door and a candle in the window for the ancestors... Ancient traditions, some kept and some put away, for the modern age. In our home, we tend to celebrate both days, Halloween for some of the more secular things and Samhain for the more hallowed parts (although, I usually still light the candle and put out the treats on Halloween as well...this year doing so on our Halloween vacation!).

Viewed as a time when the veil between the Otherworld (call it Heaven, the Summerland, the After Life, etc) and this world is at it's thinnest thus allowing the spirits of the Ancestors easy passage (which with all the fog during my morning run today, I could totally see!), the time of year is associated with the living remembering their Beloved Dead. In the middle of November, our parish celebrates the parish All Soul's Mass, where the names of all those who have died from the previous November through that celebration are read off. A bell is tolled... A candle is lit... A rose is given to the living family members to remind them of the rose that has passed from their lives. I remember that Mass in 2008. I was pregnant with Alexander and we were lighting candles for Nicholas and Sophia. It was surreal... Being pregnant with one child while mourning two others. And then, 2009. It was the first time Bobby and Maya were brought out in public, days after coming home from the hospital. We lit the candle for Alexander and again, that surreal feeling... Remembering my dead child while holding my two living ones against my chest. The bell ringing... I can still smell the incense that lingered on Bobby and Maya long after we'd come home that night if I think about it hard enough. 2010... The first year we knew of the Mass and didn't get an invitation(it's by invite only and is for parishioners who have had a loss in the year)... 2011... Here again. Already. How time flies by...

But Samhain. Lighting candles. Leaving out food. No longer harvesting from the garden (the remaining crops are viewed as offerings for a prosperous garden for the coming year as well as a thank you for the goodness of the fading year and, no doubt, as nourishment for all those who need it for the coming cold weather). We were on vacation on Halloween, but I still lit a candle. We didnt have matches, so it was interestingly done, but Peter made do! I put out a dish of sweet milk and honey on my makeshift "altar" with Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander's box. (One word for why it didnt go outside as we do traditionally: BEARS... Yeah... It was indoor... After all, I joked to Peter, we were only doing the observation. The "real" holy day we'd be home for and would do it "right"). But I still wept. That's something that doesn't change. Samhain, be it on the astronomical date or on the observed Halloween, still brings me to tears.

Wake on this feast of the dead and remember the ones who have gone before us.

Light and candle and leave it in the windowsill for the veil is lifted at dusk.

I can't open my eyes on Oct 31/Nov 1 or the astronimical celebrations (this year Nov 6/7) without a heaviness. It's there. There's a lightness too, as it gives rise to that feeling of "togetherness" with the Ancestors. The remembering. The candle lighting or the Mass in memory. But there's an ache too. It's hard because Halloween (and the astronimical Samhain) are the only holidays that I had them all with me... We conceived Nick and Sophie on Oct 27 and, although no test could tell me so, I knew as I handed out candy on the 31st that I was pregnant. A few days after Samhain, I had a positive pregnancy test. The next year, as we carved pumpkins for Nick and Sophie, I was pregnant with Alexander. We lit candles for our children who had died. We remembered them. We felt them with us. The three babies... I didnt know then that they would always be my three eternal babies. And then... Halloween 2009... In the NICU... With Bobby and Maya in preemie onesies (for 3 pounders) that were too big... Samhain that year... Rushing home to light the candles for the windows... To place the milk and honey by the kitchen door... To welcome the ancestors- to welcome Nicholas and Sophia and Alexander- home. The stones, their names etched on them with another rock... Stones thrown into the river afterwards...

On this third harvest we celebrate rebirth through death for we know that death is not the end.

On this Samhain night of magic and chaos, our joys and our sorrows become one...

As through this decay new life soon will begin...

Death is not the end... Of this I am sure. Just as the decay of the life before gives way to the new life of vegetation in the spring, just as it feeds the earth so that the earth can be bountiful... This life that we live, I have no doubt, is just the foundation for one that is to come. My children arent gone, they are simply not here... Just as one day, I will not be here. I belive this. I know it in the depths of my soul... And yet, the mourning is still there. The missing is still there. They may not be dead to me, but they are lost to this world where I remain. And that is the deepest of hurts... To me, to their father, but to Bobby and Maya less I think. Because, for them, they still share the bonds of the World Before and the World After, and I feel like they spent so much of their time- regardless of veils being thin or not- communing with their siblings. The smiles, the laughs, their voices as they say "Neeko", "Sofffffe", "Xander"... Perhaps they miss them less... Because they dont miss them at all; they play with them and love them and they are here. Tangible. Because no one has told them otherwise. Joy and sorrow as one... For me, at least.

Leave the crops that remain...
Light the bone fires...
Mark the stones with the names you hold dear...
Leave food offerings on the altar...

Leave milk and honey by the door...

Our Samhain 2011 indoor altar, Nov 7, 2011

And so today... November 7th... We'll take a note of the garden and offer the remaining tomatoes and broccoli and peppers in thanksgiving. We'll light a bonfire and tell the stories of the ancestors, remembering and loving... Knowing they live on and are welcomed as long as we never forget. We'll mark the stones with their names and set them around the Blessed Mother shrine in our front yard. Before going to bed, I'll put local apples and squash on our altar, surrounded with pictures of those we love. And, of course, the candle in the window... To guide them home... To let them know they are welcome... With milk and honey by the door (in case they'd rather not come inside while we sleep) :)

Thinking of you and your departed loved ones this blessed and holy day, as we remember those we love who have gone before us.

Another Good-Bye

2011-11-01T05:30:00.000-04:00

Halloween passes into All Saint's Day... And the wheel turns on another year that Robert has not been with a family who loves him- and misses him- dearly. 24 years... Almost a quarter century.

We're together this week: Peter, his parents, the kids and I. Keeping close together (if not close to home). Focusing on the family. Remembering for those that can and the rest of us sharing in the memories. Eating his favorite meal... Thinking of the boy who fought so hard and loved everyone in his life so much.

Thinking of you, Robert, and where you rest until those who love you hold you in their arms again.

Happy Halloween!

2011-10-31T17:22:00.003-04:00

Hope your Halloween brings you closer to your ancestors and that you find peace in knowing that death is only the opening to a new chapter of life...

Happy Halloween!

Two Week Wait

2011-10-29T08:52:00.000-04:00

No, not that kind of 2WW. It's 2 weeks until the second annual Robert's Run, as part of the 2011 Alex's Lemonade Stand Lemon Run in Philadelphia!

This year, the run has a special meaning to us. One of our priest's, Fr. B., shared the news that his cousin's son was fighting neuroblastoma. At Mass last weekend, he shared the news that this special, 7 year old boy had been given hours to live and that the family was preparing for his final moments. Another family, the cusp of Halloween, buring a beloved, 7 year old boy who was taken from them by this despicable cancer that strikes children of all ages, races, and backgrounds. Neuroblastoma (which one could argue for most cancers) doesn't descriminate. And it's still deadly. Just as it was almost a quarter centry ago to Robert and as it has been this year to Christopher. And to many, countless others.

Running in 2 weeks wont stop this disease in a day. It wont mitigate the hurt that families like ours and Alex's and Christopher's endure with the gaping hole that their loved one left by their death. But running- and donating towards Alex's Lemonade Stand- brings awareness to this heartless killer and it makes research into a cure a possibility.

One day... One day, we will stop this monster.

One day... A child won't be sentenced to a shorter life by this diagnosis.

One day... Runs like this will be more full of "running in honor of" instead of "running in memory of" athletes.

One day... Our children's children will talk about neuroblastoma the way we talk about polio. It WAS a disease that harmed thousands, but it's NOT any longer.

One day... Can you help make that one day just one day closer? Lace up your shoes and run or walk with us, or make a donation to help. 2 weeks to go!!

Gental, Woman-Center C-Sections

2011-10-28T20:01:00.002-04:00

I just had to share this article and commentary... Enjoy!

Guilt

2011-10-27T13:06:00.000-04:00

Guilt... It's a nasty, 5-letter word, and one that most (if not all) of us are quite well acquainted with. I think that, when a child dies, a parent's guilt becomes amplified. What could I have done differently? It's my fault. I should have been able to save my child.

It's there. It's always there. I've had different incarnations of the guilt. At first there was the "had I not wanted children... had I not had fertility treatments... maybe my IC was the Universe's way of saying 'you arent meant to have kids' and that's why I hadnt gotten pregnant..." All sorts of thoughts. Those gave way to "had I not lifted that bag of groceries... had I not worked... had I not taken prenatal yoga..." Bobby and Maya's pregnancy changed that because I spent sixteen of the twenty five weeks they were gestating on my back, and I still had a fairly lousy pregnancy. So then the guilt wavered between the first round of "it's my fault because I wanted to have children" to "there's something wrong with me and my body failed them". And so on and so forth. Guilt, guilt, guilt. I'm pretty squared away on that particular emotion.

I've had some emails since my recent post, asking if I feel guilty for not having a TAC previously. To be honest, after our phone consult with Dr. Haney, I had some momentary guilt, but I can say now that, no, I dont have any guilt, with regards to not having a TAC previously.

I have accepted that Nicholas and Sophia were meant to only have a short time in my womb and arms before passing on to the Other Side. There are no diagnostic tools available to diagnose IC before a child is born too prematurely. From what can be seen, my cervix looks normal; there was never a reason to believe that it was problematic.

With Alexander, there is the thought of "what if". Unfortunately, the chances of having a TAC placed prior to his pregnancy are minimal. We would have done a Shirodkar; I wasnt a candidate for a TAC because I hadnt had a failed TVC. Because the general diagnostic tools available can't tell if you have true IC or if your cervix failed during a first pregnancy for another reason (for example, infection) AND because a TAC as well as the required C-Section births afterwards are surgical procedures, a TAC isnt routine. In retrospect, I can feel guilty for not demanding a TVC when Alexander's pregnancy began; perhaps that would have bought me more time, although I dont know how much. A TVC would have given me what I know now would have been a false sense of security. Since I still would have dilated, the chances are high that I would have delivered early. With Bobby and Maya, it was 17 weeks and then 20 weeks, with bedrest. Without the bedrest, I dont know what would have happened, but I can assume it would be similar, since I was a little over 16 weeks when I dilated with Alexander. I dont know that a TVC would have saved my little cuddlebug, but it might have bought me more time with him on the inside.

With Bobby and Maya... That's a hard one. A TAC over a TVC could have bought them more womb time... It could have prevented any sort of infection that led to an early delivery. Would there have been other problems? I dont know... I would prefer to not guess, if it would include an outcome different from the two bouncing, healthy babies (who are currently napping).

I miss Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander. I miss what could have been with P, D, Z, and G. But, a part of my guilt was displaced by peace long ago. I believe they chose us to be their parents. I believe that life doesnt begin or stop on this earth and that our mission (or whatever you want to call it) transcends time. Our souls are timeless. So time on this earth is just a drop in the bucket. Our lives impact the lives of those around us and those we love (and those who love us). They are still here, just not as we expected (or wanted). But a world without all of them? A world without raising Bobby and Maya? Not a world I would want either. So that guilt of what I most likely could not have prevented doesn't have a space (not when I have so many other things that inspire guilt!).

Gluten Free Gingersnaps

2011-10-27T09:09:00.003-04:00

While I didnt initially love these (and think they need some work), Bobby and Maya disagree!! They are still chanting cookie! Slightly crumbly and delicately soft, they are lightly sweetened pieces of heaven with a cup of coffee or tea. And, weighing in at only 90 calories each, you can happily indulge (and allow the youngest taste testers in your kitchen do so as well!)

Gluten Free Gingersnaps

Mix in a bowl and set aside:
3/4 tsp Baking Powder
1/4 tsp Baking Soda
1/8 tsp salt
1 tbsp Ginger, ground
1 tsp Cinnamon, ground
1/8 tsp Cloves, ground
1 3/3 cup GF flour mixture (I make my own but you can find them commercially available)

In a large mixing bowl (or the bowl of your electric mixer), mix until fluffy:
54 grams (or 6 tablespoons) whipped butter
4oz apple sauce (snack cup size)
1/4c Brown Sugar

Add and mix well:
1 large egg
1/4 cup brown rice syrup
2 tbsp lemon juice.

Add your dry ingredients and mix until well combined.

Make 20 balls of dough and press flat in a bowl of granulated sugar (5tbsp should do the trick).
Place on a greased baking sheet and bake at 350 for 9 minutes.
Cool on baking sheet for 1 minute, then move to cooling area.

(20 cookies, 90 calories each)

The Steady Rock

2011-10-24T13:30:00.003-04:00

The only rock I know that stays steady...is the family. -Lee Iococca

Last month, I mused on the idea of sterility as a solution to my medical problems with carrying children. A large thank you to everyone who left comments or emailed me, whether it was to vent, to offer advice, or to simply let me know that they were praying for us. I received quite the outpouring of emails on the subject and I really am appreciative. It wasnt my plan to 'leave you hanging' for so long; rather, Peter and I really wanted to look within and find the answer that would sit right with us. After all, no matter what we decided upon, it would be a lifelong choice that would have repercussions for our family.

I know that some people will not understand our choices. From the comments I received, both in favor of having a tubal ligation done as well as against it (and, honestly, the silence from some people that I really expected to way in) it was clear that this was a situation that people held strong views about. There were those who had no clue about the Catholic Church who expressed concern about having the procedure done, and there were those "good" Catholics who I never in a million years would have guessed have done excommunicatable deeds without remorse who urged me to have the procedure and just continue forward. It was a good exercise is realizing that, in some way, no matter who we put forth to the world, we still make the choices that fit within our consciences. Some right. Some wrong. And some, who can tell (certainly not me!). The choice that Peter and I have made, and our reasons for it, are not indictments of what people think and our choice isnt meant to disrespect the variety of opinions we received. But, as I said before, it is the choice that works for our family. And our family is the most important thing to us.

From my last posting on the subject, the two big things havent changed. We arent the type of Catholics who will take a teaching such as this one and go on about our way and keep walking down to Communion. It's just not the way we, personally, can do things. Nor could we keep teaching Pre-Cana and continue our activities with other Ministries within the Church if we did. Others can, but not us. We just dont feel that is okay for us. So, to actively go against a Church teaching like this, we would have to accept the excommunication and find a new place of worship. The second thing that hasnt changed is our disagreement with the moral theologists' advice of abstienence. Whether a barrier method, artifical birth control, sterilization, or NFP to prevent pregnancy, if you are contracepting, then you are contracepting in our book. If one's a sin, they all are. And abstinence for the purposes of contracepting adds to that list. So, no go there either.

Which left us wondering just what the hell to do.

We prayed a lot. We meditating. We talked about the options out there. And we decided to investigate Dr. Haney and his research at the University of Chicago with transabdominal cerclage (TAC). With my history of PTL as well as IC, I'd been told that I wouldnt be a good candidate for a TAC. But, since Dr. Haney is the foremost expert on the matter, we decided that all we had to lose was some time. So, I sent him an email and, by that evening, had a response in my inbox that gave me chills along with a request to call him and chat by phone. An appointment was made, and Peter and I had a 3-way conversation with the doctor. After over an hour of discussion, and a lot of tears (thank goodness for a mute button), Peter and I walked away with a feeling that our decision was made and that it was a decision we could make with a clear conscience.

That being said, I'll be traveling to Chicago in early December to have a TAC placed.

Dr. Haney agreed that Nicholas and Alexander were lost to IC, and that Sophia was lost due to an infection caused by IC that resulted in her premature labor and delivery. With Bobby and Maya, he also believes IC is the underlying cause of my PTL and argued that they should have delivered me and not even attempted the tocolytics. His feeling is that, since my cervix had funneled by 17w, I was ripe for infection and that, ultimately, an infection caused the PTL that led to our 27 week delivery. After talking to him and hearing his reasoning, it was hard to not agree.

He has an excellent track record. In over 20 years, he's lost 3 babies: 2 were due to chromosonal issues that were incompatible with life and had nothing to do with the TAC; the mother of the third loss had such a damaged cervix due to a previous surgery that he had nothing to work with. But, as it relates to a TAC, he has never lost a child. Success is viewed as a 38-39 week delivery without bedrest and, short of a few cases where a problem with the baby (or babies) caused an earlier delivery, the man has a damn near perfect full term delivery rate.

I cant say that TAC solves all the problems. First trimester losses due to inherent sperm or egg problems or due to a chromosonal issue with the developing baby are things that I have no control over and that my faulty cervix isn't to blame for. It's a statistical odds game that every woman who is capable of bearing a child takes. It doesnt make it easier to handle, but it is a risk that I feel like, in general, I can accept if I know that my cervix is "normal". (Again, not something that I want to accept, but in the vein of being "normal" it is something I know that I have to accept.) And I'm not going to rush out and try to get pregnant. But Peter and I don't believe in NFP as it relates to "spacing" children or outright contracepting. We believe in expressing our love in a physical manifestation when we feel called to do so, be that on CD8 or CD28. Having the TAC in place mitigates that concern that I will get pregnant and lose the child due to my incompetent cervix.

For those who are curious about a TAC, I will try to do Dr. Haney justice in this explaination. For most women, the cervix can be thought of a spool of thread. Keeping that image in your head, imagine a woman like me without the top of that spool. There is nothing to keep my cervix from staying strong when gravity and a developing baby begins to push down. The TAC will basically recreate the part of my anatomy that I'm missing. Because I will never be able to dilate, should I get pregnant, I would have to schedule a C-section. While that part of the deal doesn't make me happy, the fact that I could fully gestate a child is more than a fair trade off. Dr. Haney also believes that, given a full term delivery, I'd be likely to have a positive nursing experience.

One of the emails I received about the tubal said something along the lines of the one thing that was clear from my post is that Peter and I were short on hope. They were right. We were hopeless. We were driven my our fear to a place that we never wanted to go in the first place... To a place that we knew we'd always regret but where we were because we believed we had no where else to go. Dr. Haney gave us back some hope. Not the hope of that big, school bus worthy family that we had when we first got together (although he seems to think that's more than possible!), but the hope that we can make a choice that doesnt have to weigh us down with guilt forever. A choice that fits into our moral plane... That doesnt hurt our idea of family. And, for the first time since the miscarriage last year, I can breathe a little easier about that.

Eating and Cooking And Eating And...

2011-10-20T17:11:00.002-04:00

Yesterday.. Not my finest moment when it comes to eating. I'm not ready to talk about what led me to consume 3500 calories (most of those before noon), but suffice it to say, not my greatest day yesterday. Did I mention I didnt run or work out? That doesnt bode well, either.

Today, different story. After an hour on the elliptical (which I love to do when it's raining and I dont want to get soaked running) while the world was still dark, I spent the morning getting loved on before we went to the supermarket to pick up some odds and ends that I needed to go with my farmer's market dinner for tonight. We've been living at the local farmer's market on Saturday mornings and our week is full of delicious, local foods. I LOVE IT. I'm sad that it is soon coming to an end. Tonight's masterpiece? Duck. Cranberry glazed duck to be precise. My house smells delicious.

In between homeschooling, playing, snuggling, and everything else in the day, I've been cooking all day. I find I actually eat less (and am less inclined to eat regardless of my emotions) when I'm busy cooking in the kitchen. When the adoption failed over the summer, I cooked all day for several days. (Peter's coworkers REALLY liked me). It helped. It's therapy (although, depending on what I'm making, it isn't altogether inexpensive... better to keep it to making family meals!).

The day has flown by today. The cooking is to blame, I think... Love it. It's wonderful! (What's kind of sad? We're down to one apple... Farmer's Market is Saturday... Maya wants that apple... Guess I'd better wash it and hand it over, and realize that while she may share with her brother, she wont let me come near the apple she's noshing... Not sure how that happened!)

Speaking of the drama queen, this afternoon, while Bobby was nestled in his bed and gently napping, Maya punked me. I kissed her, she snuggled with her stuff, all was well... I hear her sleep sheep click on and think nothing of it. She does this all the time. I'm in the living room writing out monthly bills and all is quiet. Oops! Forgot stamps! Need to go to our bedroom... And what do I find? Maya. She has pulled EVERYTHING out of Peter's nightstand, stacking it all in neat little piles on his side of the bed. Did I mention our bedroom has a gate on it? She got out of her bed and into our room without making a sound, with only her sleep sheep (and the music I play during naptime) to cover her sounds.

That child is SNEAKY! (In addition to being annoyed, I do have to admit that I was quiet proud...) ;)

Not to leave him out, Bobby likes to 'meditate' with me. I sit in lotus and chant, he climbs into my lap, plants a big (wet) kiss, and hugs me like he's never going to see me again. I meditate A LOT more often than I used to!!! :) That kid is snuggles on 2 legs. LOVE IT!

What I'm Eating Today...

2011-10-17T18:34:00.002-04:00

Today has found me sifting through old Yoga Journal magazines that a friend of mine brought me after they'd been discarded from the library. Good stuff... But what's even better than reading up on yogic philosophy? The Vegan Chocolate Bundt Cake found on page 37 of the December 2009 edition. The cake was adapted from Veganomicon by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero (which I'm now going to have to buy) and, in addition to being fun to make with a lot of things I had lying around, it is FREAKING DELICIOUS! I cut it into small slices (24 per cake) and they come in at around 135 calories per piece. Yummy Yummy Yummy!!! This may very well be my new "standard" chocolate cake recipe!

Vegan Chocolate Bundt Cake (24 svgs=135c each)
1.75c freshly brewed coffee
2/3c Dutch cocoa
1.5c granulated sugar
1/3c oil (I used corn)
1/3c applesauce (I used a 4oz snack cup of unsweetened)
.25c cornstarch
2tsp vanilla extract & 1tsp almond extract (I used 1tbsp vanilla)
2c whole wheat or white A.P. flour (I used 1c each of WW and white)
1tsp baking soda
1.5tsp baking powder
.5tsp salt
2tsp confectioners sugar

Preheat oven to 325 and grease a bundt pan.
Melt the chocolate into the hot coffee and whisk to combine well.
Whisk together the sugar, oil, applesauce, cornstarch, and vanilla (or vanilla/almond). When combined well, add the chocolate coffee and whisk well to combine.
(This is where my recipe will differ from the original). Mix together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add the wet ingredients and blend on medium low until well combined, about 2 minutes.
Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 45-55min. (I cooked for 55min.)
Cool for 20min in the pan, then flip and sprinkle the powdered sugar over the top.
If you can wait to eat it, great. If not, slice a piece and eat that bad boy while it is still warm!!!

Everything Touched Is Changed

2011-10-15T12:59:00.000-04:00

Five years ago, October 15th was just another day. It didnt hold any significance to me, or at least, none that I recognized. I had lost a pregnancy many years before, but it was a private grief. Something I held close to my chest. I knew people miscarried babies, that babies were stillborn or died soon after birth, but I didnt know. Not really. October 15th? What's so special? Middle of my favorite month of the year- yay! Halloween is around the corner!

Four years ago, October 15th was around the starting time of my ovulation induction schedule. Ah... the memories of those FSH injections... The every-other-day follicle ultrasounds.... The hope that I would be able to have a baby at the end of the cycle, assuming my body actually ovulated and things went as planned... Turns out, things did go as planned and October 27th saw us conceiving Nicholas and Sophia... It was a good year.

Three years ago, I was blogging (although I didnt blog on the 15th). I was mourning Nicholas and Sophia. I was pregnant with Alexander. And I knew the significance of October 15th- and on several levels. I had had a second miscarriage earlier in the year. I had come to know my grandmother's story of loss on a deeper level. I was hopeful that my pregnancy with Alexander would go well, heartbroken that 8 months had passed since Nicholas and Sophia's births and deaths, and in a place of flux. I knew I wasn't alone in orphaned parenthood, but I still felt so empty... so lost... so, well, alone. I'd been blogging only a short time, but the community was opening up to me and, in that, I began to see just what hidden epidemics the loss of children and infertility are.

Two years ago, I blogged about the day and lit candles. I was busy "NICU raising" Bobby and Maya who were a month old (and only gestationally 32 weeksish).

In my heart, I knew this date. I knew the hurt... The fact that my children who were gone weren't coming back... That one day I would have to tell Bobby and Maya that... The feelings of hurt mixed with failure and anguish. I knew that I wasnt alone. But I was tired. Tired of the grief. Tired of not feeling like it would ever be good enough. Tired of everything and wishing, so badly, that I could have them all with me and just bypass the loss. But realizing, even then, that that dream was impossible... and always had been.

Candles lit... Prayers said... Hearts still broken...

Last year, we were getting ready to move. It was a busy time as we were 2 weeks from settlement on our house and trying to get everything together. Reading back over my post, I can still remember writing the words. The realization of what life meant... Of what being happy in my life for all that it was (and is) meant (and still means)... The ache and the joy, forever intertwined. The knowledge that I would trade my very soul for the ability to look into those smiles for just one second...

I'd turned over a new leaf in my own rebirth by that time, too. The changes that had taken place in me physically- and by my own accord for the most part- had taken me to the brink of self destruction weight-wise and I'd decided to make a change for the good of my children- those who want me around to take care of them for decades to come and those who dont want our souls to mingle in the Otherland for those same decades! It was also around the time that the impact of knowing each of us who has been touched by loss is forever changed and that we have the choice to make that change a positive one or a negative one at the end of the day. I cant bring my children back... I cant change the fact that they were miscarried or born too soon to survive and that they died. I cant change the fact that Bobby and Maya got jipped on their wombtime. But I was beginning to see that I could change me. I could make their lives mean something. I could make their impact as positive as I could. Lighting their candles that year, made a difference...

And so, here we are. October 15, 2011. A new year... A new place... Since last year, we've had another miscarriage, bringing that total to 4. We had a failed adoption. We've watched the calendar turn on 3 and a half years since Nick and Sophie were born, and almost 3 years since Alex was born. Bobby and Maya have turned (gulp) 2... Life is sweet in so many ways. Mending Heart Bellies became my way of putting my life into focus. I've completed my coursework to become a certified doula and am just working on my births, and I've almost completed my CBE coursework. My lifestyle is so different from where it has been for most of my adult life. I've gone from a size 20 to a size 8. (I cant believe I'm actually writing that I was a size 20... It's true, but still...) Life is...honestly, pretty darn good.

That being said: it still hurts. All of this, it hurts. Knowing Bobby and Maya are our only living children out of the nine children who have been in my womb. Knowing that I may never enjoy an "infancy" period again or that Bobby and Maya may never know what it is like to be a "big" sibling. It hurts... It hurts to know, time and time again, that happy endings aren't guaranteed (and, apparently, arent statistically probable in this lifetime).

But. (And it's a big but). I'm happy. I'm happy that, in the loss and grief, I've met so many other parents on this journey and that we've found friendship and compassion. I'm happy that I've been able to have MHB come out of this. I'm happy that my doula and CBE training helped me support my sister (who delivered her first child, a sweet baby girl named in memory of our sweet Sophia) yesterday. I'm happy that I'm their mother- every single one of them. I'm happy that Peter and I are able to remember our children and share in those memories (and in holding one another up).

I'm so happy that each of them- Nicholas, Sophia, Alexander... Peter, Dimitri, Zoe, Grace...- lived, even if it was only in my womb. I'm happy that I had the priviledge of carrying Bobby and Maya, even if they only had 2 trimesters inside instead of 3. I'm happy that we've had the opportunities to look into adopting Patricia and Annie, and sweet little Zaire of recent memory, even if their adoptions didnt work out.

Today, I'm remember all that was... What might of been... And what is. Your babies and mine. You and I... All of us, and all that we will see together on this journey. And, before I cantor the Mass this evening, I'll be lighting a candle for all the sweet little ones for whom we have the distinction of being their parents.

Our Hero

2011-10-12T11:18:00.004-04:00

As we rapidly approach the 24th anniversary of Robert's death, it seems fitting that his story has gone live on Alex's Lemonade Stand's Hero network this week.

I think back on the last 24 years of my life, over half of them with Peter by my side, and it seems amazing to me that so much time passes by so quickly. Looking at 1/12 of that- the lives of Bobby and Maya, or 1/6 of it, nearly the time since Nicholas and Sophia were born (or the 1/8 of that since Alexander was born- I am toppled over by the weight of how those years pass in a mere breath.

And yet... So much changes and so much stays the same. For those of us touched by the miracles of lives lived and lost, a piece of us is different. Irrevocably so. Forever.

Can you donate to the 2011 Robert's Run or join us by lacing up your shoes? Click here for more information.

Musing on the Muse

2011-10-06T13:55:00.000-04:00

The fall is my favorite time of year... There's nothing like the crisp breeze or the sound of leaves crunching underfoot during a run.... The trees as they change color in the later rising (and earlier setting) sun. Perfection, seasonally speaking.

Days like today... I got up while the sun was still sleeping for a short, two mile run. After we had breakfast as a family and Peter went to work, we spent the morning playing outside in the cool October morning (interupted by Super Why! and homeschooling, of course) before the kids had their lunch and (are now) napping. As we were noshing in the afternoon, my eyes kept drifting to the apple bowl that I'd taken our lunch apple from. My muse for the day...

We are fortunate that our town does a Farmer's Market on Saturdays, late spring through early autumn. Local vendors with local produce and organic, free range meats. People who are excited about food and who love growing it and taking care of it as much of it as I do (not to mention as much as I love eating it!). My current fave of the day: locally made granola topped with raw goat's milk yogurt. But there's apples galore in this area (and some of them are at the Farmer's Market!) This week, our house has had about 8 pounds of apples in it (we're down to about 2 pounds). I've made french toast topped with fried apples, whole wheat apple cake (with baked apples topping) Irish oatmeal with apples and currants (which leftovers made for a delicious apple oatmeal cake!), not to mention we just enjoy eating apples! Apple cider makes for a great glaze for my pumpkin cake (or a great beverage to sip on the porch!).

Apples are interesting... We have them out our fingertips locally (and, even if we didnt, we could easily get them from NY State (way more local than Washington State!) where apples are a huge agricultural staple). Yet, as Michael Pollan states in several of his books, apples are one of those things that we import from all over the world. It's a shame... Not to mention, because of transportation and non-organic farming practices, we're depleting their natural goodness of vitamins and minerals. But I digress... apples... local... great thing...

These apples... They're different than the ones I've had from the markets. The skin on these is so thin that it's like part of the apple itself. It peels away like a delicate tissue paper. And not just on one variety or from one orchard1 I've noticed that characteristic about all our local apples. And it melts in your mouth! The apples are so sweet or tart, and the flesh is the perfect mesh of soft and firm. LOVE THESE APPLES.

It's a shame fall doesnt last forever... We'd better get our fill of these delicious gems now since we wont have any that are nearly as good once autumn is over... Until next year!

---
For those who love apples as much as we do, might I suggest an ancient recipe for Apple Muse? It's a fun treat! (and relatively healthy too!)

Just Another Type of Good Weather

2011-10-04T06:33:00.001-04:00

Even though I'm not actively training for anything, I'm still running and the easiest time to do it is in the early morning.

Of course, early mornings now are special... It's still dark... There are stars and the moon instead of a rising sun... And it's cold (ish).

And today, it was not only cold but raining!

So, I'm up and dressed in layers... in the cold... in the rain. I admit; I turned around right after leaving the driveway, but ultimately decided to keep going. I only ran 2miles (and in 18 minutes... freezing and wet will do that!), then came home to a piping hot cup of black coffee... Mmmm.... Good to be home...

Third Time's A...

2011-10-03T15:23:00.000-04:00

I think the old adage might say something like "third time's a charm", as though we get what we want if we keep it up through the third attempt. That's true for the kids, sure enough!

You may remember that we attempted going to a local church for a play time/Bible study. The first attempt was a giant F-A-I-L. The second try was better but still a struggle. Last Tuesday was our third attempt. While I could call it a complete fail, since we didnt make it in the doorway of the kids' classroom, I cant say that because it wasnt. Not for them, anyway.

From the start, we've tried to give the kids choices. What do you want to wear? What do you want to eat? Would you like to wash your hands? Would you like to go to the playground. It doesnt always work; there are some things (like nightly bath, nap time, bedtime, etc) that are non-negotiable. But, where we can, we try to give the kids choices, and to reinforce that they have a voice. In fact, one of the things I fell in love with about Peter was his view that children are people (just small ones) and that, just as we adults want to be respected, they, too, should be. So, we try. We dont always succeed, but we do try.

But, back to Tuesday. We had breakfast, got dressed, and off we went, positive stories in tow, to the church. We arrived in that familiar hallway and, as I pushed their stroller towards the brightly colored room, Maya looked back over her shoulder and gave me her "Maya look" and said, "Mama, No." Prepared for dissention in the ranks, I smiled and gave my cheeriest, "Look at all the fun you're going to have with your new friends," while I stopped the stroller and prepared to get the kids out. Taking Maya first, I sat her down and went to unclip Bobby. She repeated, "Mama, NO." The look on Bobby's face seemd to say "I agree with her, lady." But still, I picked up Maya when she asked and held Bobby by the hand. As I waited to sign them in, he and I played peekaboo. And then... He was off!

Like one of those huge football players who accidentally catches a fumble at the wrong side of the field and has to do the heart attack run to the otherside, Bobby was as quick as lightening and was to the door before I was halfway down the hall! (It's a good thing he responds to his full name and the word STOP! or he would have been outside!) We walked back to the classroom, but they both had me in kungfu deathgrips and were repeating "No, Mama, No."

What value is it in telling them they have a choice if I'm not listening? So, I listened. I apologized to the well meaning staff, and explained that we appreciated the opportunity but that this set-up wasnt currently the right one for us. The kids waited patiently as I put them back in the stroller and we left. Since the weather was iffy for playing outside, we went to the indoor playyard and the kids ran off some energy before snacktime and our ride back home.

I was rewarded for listening with a perfect naptime. It was well worth it :)

And who knows, maybe we'll try again later. But not this week (or next... Mama needs a break from the drama!)

Half-Marathon Round-Up!

2011-09-30T07:21:00.000-04:00

Thanks to all the well wishes on the half-marathon! I appreciate all the support and words of encouragement!

You may remember, I registered for the Women's Half Marathon in Nashville on January 31st. I booked a flight down and coordinated with my mom and stepdad (who were awesome enought to house and feed us for our quick 2 day trip). So, months passed and soon that day was upon us!

Friday, September 23rd, Sarah and I caught an early flight to Nashville (which, of course, was delayed by an hour), where my parents met us. After picking up our race packets, we had lunch with my mom, grandmother, and nephew, then a DELICIOUS dinner (a polenta eggplant-spinach lasagna...) and an early turn in. We got up bright and early (at 4:15- eek!) and met up with Terri an hour later, then the three of us headed down to the WHM start.

Me, Terri, and Sarah, prior to the race

At 7am, the first of the corrals started, and 8 minutes later, our corral was off! We were divided before mile 1 was over, but had a plan to meet ( NO JOKE) at the cookie tent!!! after the race. My average was 10:15 minute miles (about 6mph) and I finished the 13.1 mile, very hilly course in (my jawdropping) 2 hours 14 minutes and 13 seconds. My hardcore goal was 2:30, so do do 2:14 really thrilled me beyond measure.

Running the race and as happy as can be!

Crossing the finish line was quite the feeling of "I DID IT!" It was an awesome feeling that words cant do justice.

Crossing the finish line at 2 hours, 14 minutes

I was able to "run in" 2 of my dearest friends (a special repayment for Sarah, who came back and ran me in at the tri in 2010), and then we enjoyed the above referenced cookie tent!

After eating (too many) cookies, fruit, and drinking gatorade and water, we headed back to my Mom's, where we said good-bye to Terri and enjoyed hot showers!

Three very happy Half-Marathoners! Terri, Me, and Sarah

Because he rocks!, my stepdad made my fave, oysters rock', to send us on our way before we headed back to the airport. We made it home safely and extremely tired. But it was worth the whirlwind getaway and race.

I'm still riding the high. I smiled a koolaid smile the entire race!!!

A year ago, I never would have fathomed this. And now? Now, I'm a half-marathoner!

Proudly sporting this on my car!

Scope out all my race pics here, and I'll be sure to update it when I have more!

Between THE Rock and a Hard Place

2011-09-27T16:26:00.001-04:00

Months ago, I wrote about the possibility of undergoing a medical procedure to render me as barren as science can make me. It's kind of funny, isn't it? An infertile asking to be barren... The irony isn't lost on me.

I want more children; so does Peter. There's no denying that. We've always said that we want a house full of them, biological and adopted. There has been no greater joy in my life than motherhood (followed closely by wifehood :) ). At first, those dreams were put on hold because I simply couldnt get pregnant. We fixed that with ovulation induction, and then the incompetent cervix and preterm labor took away any chances of a normal pregnancy. Child loss, prematurity, lack of being able to breastfeed... As Sarah says, put together a checklist of 'problems in pregnancy' and start checking them off!

It sucks, it really does. And then, as Dr. Lee hoped, Bobby and Maya "fixed" my body and sent many of the symptoms of my PCOS into remission (a recent ultrasound shows that my ovaries are still teeming with follicles so the 'polycystic' aspect is still there, but hormonally, things are closer to normal). Ovulation and menstruation have, amazingly enough, led to pregnancy... and another miscarriage.

I don't know what it was about our last pregnancy/miscarriage that did it, but it has left an open wound in my heart. It made me re-evaluate things. Add to that the adoption that fell through, and I've had an interesting plate these last few months. We still plan to adopt, but as far as childbearing... It has brought Peter and I to a strange place... for a variety of reasons.

We're Catholic (no secret there). We recently resigned from chairing the Respect Life Committee (just too much work on top of our home life) and Peter's a trained Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion as well as a lector; I'm a cantor and former Sacristan. We teach pre-Cana (the "sex" class that deals with married sexuality, NFP, and the family). So, to say that we are the types of Catholics that the priest knows by name and that most people at our parish know by sight is about right. We read the Bible and the Catechism, and we've been raising the kids up in our faith, starting by their baptisms. Even in trying to conceive them, the Church guided us. So it's no surprise that our discussions led us back to the Church for counsel.

After months of discussion, Peter and I felt as though we had no other choices... That we had been backed into a corner with no positive way out. My body cannot sustain pregnancy; it's never been able to. Even my "success" story with Bobby and Maya was only successful because of the outstanding prenatal/antepartum and neonatal care we received. Without that, they would have died simply because my body couldn't hold them long enough to adequately gestate them for this world. It's painful to contemplate... Even more painful to discuss. But the knowledge that I simply can't do this simple task and the ramifications from it make the realiziation that I can no longer carry a child clear.

If it were simply that I needed a cerclage to be okay, I think I'd have a TAC placed and take my chances. But then there's the preterm labor and, because of the postpartum eclampsia, a higher risk of preeclampsia in pregnancy (assuming I could even get that far). Tocolytics and P17 didnt have much of an effect. My body just wasnt meant to do this. 100 years ago, I'd be childless. Technology, as great as it has been in my case, is also a double edged sword and one that, it seems, I have to figure out how to put back in the stone.

So, months and months of discussion and Peter and I decided to consult with our priest about the Church's stance on sterility in a case like ours and to grant a dispensation for the medical procedure (a tubal ligation). Our local priest, while not advocating sterility, didnt advocate another pregnancy with our medical history, and he advised us to seek out a priest with a speciality in moral theology (along with a recommendation). We contacted said priest, who conferred with an expert in moral theology and cannon law, before they responded.

Unequivocally, no. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Sterility, no matter what, is always a grave, mortal sin, and is forbidden by the Church. To have the procedure done anyway would result in excommunication. The positive aspect of the decision was that they agree we have done everything humanly possible and that pregnancy is not a viable option for us. Since NFP is also impossible (I dont have the temperature fluctuations needed for temping and my cervical mucus doesnt follow any sort of pattern with my ovulation... Tried that!), they agree that we are at a loss. So... The response.... Abstinence. To be exact: "Direct sterilization is an offense against the Moral Law from which no one can dispense another... Abstinence is their only option."

Fun times.

This response makes it difficult on two fronts.

First, we all know Catholics who use birth control (also considered morally evil) and who continue to walk down to take Communion every week. There's also a fair amount who have had some sort of sterilization procedure, and no one is the wiser. It is what it is. They know the Church says it is wrong, they dont care, and que sera sera. They are fine with it.

We aren't those Catholics.

Secondly, we dont agree with the response. And that, perhaps, is the hardest pill to swallow.

The Catechism, under the heading of The Love of Husband and Wife, paragraph 2363, states that "The spouses' union achieves the twofold end of marriage: the good of the spouses themselves and the transmission of life. These two meanings or values of marriage cannot be separated without altering the couple's spiritual life and compromising the goods of marriage and the future of the family." Continuing, paragraph 2368, states "A particular aspect of this responsibility concerns the regulation of procreation. For just reasons, spouses may wish to space the births of their children. It is their duty to make certain that their desire is not motivated by selfishness but is in conformity with the generosity appropriate to responsible parenthood. Moreover, they should conform their behavior to the objective criteria of morality: en it is a question of harmonizing married love with the responsible transmission of life, the morality of the behavior does not depend on sincere intention and evaluation of motives alone; but it must be determined by objective criteria, criteria drawn from the nature of the person and his acts criteria that respect the total meaning of mutual self-giving and human procreation in the context of true love; this is possible only if the virtue of married chastity is practiced with sincerity of heart." Finally, paragraph 2399 states the Church's stance clearly: "Legitimate intentions on the part of the spouses do not justify recourse to morally unacceptable means (for example, direct sterilization or contraception). "

Our advice is abstience because paragraph 2399 states that, regardless of our reasoning, sterilization (or any form of contraception, not that we'd use it) is morally unacceptable.

We embrace the teaching of paragraph 2363: the twofold end of marriage (as it relates to sexual intimacy in marriage) is the good of the spouses AND the transmission of life. We also agree that these values CANNOT be separated without altering the couple's spiritul life and compromising the goods of marriage and the future of the family. Add to that the section of paragraph 2368 that states "It is their duty to make certain that their desire is not motivated by selfishness but is in conformity with the generosity appropriate to responsible parenthood. Moreover, they should conform their behavior to the objective criteria of morality: en it is a question of harmonizing married love with the responsible transmission of life, the morality of the behavior does not depend on sincere intention and evaluation of motives alone; but it must be determined by objective criteria, criteria drawn from the nature of the person and his acts criteria that respect the total meaning of mutual self-giving and human procreation in the context of true love..." And that's where our disagreement brings us.

Abstinence defeats the twofold purpose. "The good of the spouses" (i.e. the sexual union) AND any chance at pregnancy are both out of the question with this advice. And, according to the Catechism, we run the risk of altering our spiritual life as a couple, compromising our marriage, and of having a negative impact on our family. And while I am in no way arguing that sterilization should be permissible (because I dont think that), I do believe that every rule has a just exception. (Easy for me to say, right? Especially when I'm arguing that I'm the exception.) But, in our case, our desire to not have every intimate liason allow for pregnancy, we are not motivated by selfishness but truly in responsible parenthood. And, as far as objective criteria, I cant image a more self-giving and stance of true-love for our children (and those I might conceive) than to say that we love you all enough to put ourselves at the least amount of risk that we would hurt you.

My babies die. It's a sad truth. The 2 who lived are testaments to the power of prayer and the great care they received in utero and out of it. But babies are not meant to be born in the 2nd trimester. If they were, then you'd meet a lot more 20something weekers. Part of "God's plan" as people love to remind others when people debate moral issues, is that children have a set gestational period. Otherwise, we wouldnt traditionally carry babies for 38 gestational (40 lunar) weeks! While sterilization does grant us the "freedom" to have sexual intimacy whenever, it also has a failure rate (something abstinence doesnt). I'll admit it is a small percentage, but ask the 2 out of 1000 couples who conceived post-sterilization if those were odds they expected and I'd wager a fair amount that it wasnt. We accept those as the opportunity to parent. As the transmission of life spoken of in the Catechism. It's a road block that we are throwing up, no doubt, but it doesnt render pregnancy impossible, as abstience does.

All these arguements aside, however, the Church is the Church. She isnt going to change because Peter and I disagree. And therein, is yet another problem. So many of my dear, sweet, very Catholic (in the world's way) friends say "do it." They know folks and no big deal. Or simply, do it and, since you already regret it, go to confession and therefore no more mortal sin, no more excommunication, no harm, no foul!

But it doesnt work that way. Not for us. This isnt having a piece of meatloaf on a Friday during Lent (we dont, by the way). This is a BIG sin in the realm of rating sin (which we also dont believe, funny enough: one sin is just as sinful as another in our book). But sin... Now there's an interesting thing in this discussion, as well.

A brochure entitled "Is Contraception and Sterilization Always a Mortal Sin?" has some Church fathers on the topic, as well as a section on sin. The consequences of sin, of which this would be considered are... the continual crucifixion of Jesus within by the committing of sin (which I would argue happens every single time I do any sort of sinning, regardless of it's value as mortal or venial); harms our relationship with God (let me be frank here: continuing to miscarry and bury children has damaged my relationship with God. It's the honest truth. Not to say I dont have faith or that I am not on the road to recovery by the Great Spirit I thought I knew isnt the one I've discovered, for better AND for worse); and harm to others (this goes without saying... while we can all argue that babies who are miscarried or die shortly outside the womb had the love of their mothers and knew safety and peace, I also know that Nicholas, Sophia, and Alexander (at least) suffered in their lives on this earth and that I had a direct relation to that suffering. They suffocated to death. Hold yourself under what until your lungs burn. Then imagine that times 10... And not being able to get a breath. That's how their bodies felt as their immature lungs began to crush them.)

Paragraph 1472 of the Catechism instructs that grave sin, of which this would be because it is being done in the full knowledge of the Church's teachings, deprives us of communion with God and therefore makes us incapable of eternal life. Tough words there... Not just excommunication with the Church, but hellbound as well. And not just for me, but for Peter too, since he would be agreeing to the procedure.

In addition to our research into what the Catholic Church teaches, we've also looked into what the (Greek) Orthodox Church says on the topic, not only because they are a place that Peter has always felt comfortable with, but also because, liturgically and "rule" speaking, they are our closest brothers/sisters in Christ. They also dont allow sterilitity HOWEVER exceptions can be made for extreme cases. Interesting... Also interestingly enough, the brochure above, in its references, cites writings from both Catholic/Orthodox writers until it references 2 Popes from the 1930s & 1960s, and a Catechism reference.

We're in a tough spot... I try to be honest here and I can tell you we are struggling. Because of how we've tried to raise our kids and our own love of the Church, the idea of going against the teaching is one that gives us a great pause. We know that we run the risk of making a decision that casts us out of our family of faith. It opens up another can of discussion between Peter and I (Greek Orthodox versus Roman Catholicism) and that isnt an easy place to be either when my feelings center around that uncomfortable feeling of "church shopping".

I accept that I'm kind of a mishmash of things. Deep down, I know I'm a tree hugging, earth worshipping, animist who happens to find solace, peace, and love in the Catholic Church, especially our little piece of it a few town's over. While I wont lie to you and say that I agree with the Catechism 100% (because I've read it a few times...), I can say that it is the framework that Peter and I made a conscious choice to try and live within. But one thing we've also always done is followed our conscience and our own, personal connection to the Divine.

So now we are left to decide: which path do we choose when we are forced with following our conscience and our Church?

(I recognize that a fair amount of followers are not Catholic, nor do they agree with the Church's stance on things like IVF, etc. Please no bashing on this post. Honest opinions are ALWAYS accepted and appreciated, but flaming, inappropriate, or downright rude intolerance isn't tolerated.)

Happy Life Day... To Me!

2011-09-27T02:32:00.000-04:00

So much can change in a year. By the end of 2007, I was pregnant. By the end of 2008, I had bore and buried three children... By the end of 2009, we had Bobby and Maya home... And, at the end of 2010, I found myself struggling with myself. I started a blog to chronicle my weight issues, which I started with a post entitled Battling My Bulge, in which I took that 'first step' to try and stop killing myself with obesity. I came to terms with the fact that I was 251 pounds when the kids were born and, a year later, was still looking at 240 on the scale. I came to terms with the fact that although I had PCOS and Hashimoto's, what I had more of what a lack of responsibility and self-control and a problem overeating and with emotional eating. I wasnt sure exactly what to do about it, but I knew I had to do something. I cried about it on this blog with What We Need to See, a post about being slapped in the face by my obesity and the heartbreak that I finally had come face to face with.

I'd tried dieting... I'd tried working out... I just didnt have the balls (pardon the word) to keep with it. But, something switched in me last September. Something changed. I changed. I saw myself for what I was- and for all the things that I wanted to be, not just for me, but for my kids and my family. And that, truly, for me was the time that I stopped lying to myself and started telling myself the brutal, honest truth when it came to my weight. I was fat. And I was responsible for that. Not the Hashi's, not the PCOS... But the overeating- that was me. All me. I didnt need to take a pill to get healthy- I needed to take responsibility.

And I did. And I continue to do so. It's a daily battle and sometimes I lose it (and the bag of pretzel M&Ms wins). But I'm still fighting it. And I know I'll win the war. In a lot of ways, I already have.

I didnt know where I'd be a year from last. I didnt know if, once again, I'd find an excuse to use as a crutch or if I'd just give up because I didnt want to keep going. There have been tears. There's been eating when I wasnt hungry. There's been reaching out to friends and Peter when I just needed another voice on the line. But, in the span of a year, I've changed.

And not just on the outside, which is clearly visible (even to my blindness!) but on the inside. I've become much more aware of myself (and my faults). That's not to say I've made all the changes I could make! But I am aware. And I think that I accept advice a little easier (although Peter may disagree!)

But, the physical. That's what people seem to see the most. And I am different. I went from a size 20 to a size 8; an XL (or XXL in some cases) to a Medium (and even a Small at times). I went from barely being able to run a quarter of a mile (in 20+ minutes and with walk breaks) to running a PR of a mile in 9 minutes and a half marathon in (wait for it...) 2:14. Thats 10 minute miles (6mph). I didnt place (and havent in any of my races) but I dont care. I've done it. I've had that moment. And what an incredible moment it was.

So, today, I think I'm making a cake for me. A life cake. A year older, a year wiser, a year of really living- and being proud of the life I've lived. I honestly could ask for anything more today that the knowledge that I've given myself an extra year of life by changing the past one.

(Just for fun... Here's 2 pictures of me after the triathon, at 240 pounds...

And here's me, before and after the half, at 169 pounds...)

For more race pictures, click here...

One of THOSE Parents...

2011-09-26T14:10:00.001-04:00

I'm one of THOSE parents... I always knew I was, but today, it was clear... I took my kids to McDonalds... and packed their lunch.

Let me back up. I've blogged about Mr. B's, a coffee shop at a local church, who has a play-yard for kids. We love it there; the kids love it there. But, they're closed on Mondays. And, today's a Monday... And there's rain the forcast... So, I thought, hey... Why not? Of course, I dont want them eating there, but there's one in town that has a play center, so I figured (as to not be horrible) I could buy myself lunch (no judgement- I had a salad which actually wasnt that bad and weighed in at only 300 calories with the tiny bit of dressing I tossed on it), so I would be a 'paying customer' and then I packed a simple lunch for the kids (since I fully expected them to be so overwhelmed by the play area that they wouldnt want to eat much and would necessitate a "second lunch". But anyway...

My MIL (who laughed her butt off!) came with me to see the kids first (and quite possibly one of the very few) time to McD's. They had a great time. They needed me to show them how to climb up (and let me say, my knees did NOT appreciate that!) but when they were on the levels, which they got to themselves, they had a BLAST. And then they took the (long!) slide down to where Peter's mom waited.

All in all, it was a fun time... Even if I was that mom. :)

Second Chances

2011-09-20T13:41:00.001-04:00

Well, it's Tuesday... Bible study day... I woke up this morning and things weren't looking good. It's raining, we got up later than I wanted, I didnt get to run (at all), and the car was pretty much on "E" as far as gas is concerned. Yeah... Not feeling it... But we got squared away and out of the house by 8:45, and I had enough gas to get there, so I figured, this has got to be something of a good sign.

When we arrived at the 2yo classroom, Maya clung to me like she was attached. Bobby, funny enough, actually walked into the room on his own. Of course, then he turned around and sacked me like I was an opposing quarterback! (Watched the Giants game last night... YAY!) So, I got into the room and we sat down. And didnt move.

I sat with them on the floor and we talked about toys while Maya whined and held me like she was drowning. Bobby walked around me and would plop down from time to time, then get back up and walk away, then come back. Repeat. Finally, we got to where there was a little kitchen. And a little girl offered Maya a toy. Then, once Maya let go and took the toy, the girl hugged her! While Maya was still pretty much attached to me, she would walk over and play for a minute, then back to me. Bobby was doing the same thing. Walk somewhere, look or play, then back to mom. I kept telling them that I wouldnt leave until they were ready and that I would always be back. I tried walking to the counter to finish signing them in (I was still in the room) but that caused tears, so I reassured them. (During this time, the volunteers were great. There was no pressure for me to leave them (maybe because they saw what happened last week) and they didnt make a big deal out of a mom staying after all the other moms had left, so I dont think the other kids were upset). Maya helped clean up and Bobby sort of did, and then it was Gym time. While we had some meltdowns in line (the kids arent used to waiting in line and I think they were quite shocked by the entire idea... interesting the things you learn in a group setting...), we walked with the class (the kids held my hands) to the gym.

And then Bobby found his happy place. He was away from me and towards the balls before you could say "Have fun!" He played with others, played by himself, ran, jumped... You name it. He was thrilled. Maya would go out and play, but immediately came back for a snug. But, during this time, I did have a chance to interact with the volunteers a little more (which I hope encouraged Bobby and Maya to see them as new friends). Maya asked to go potty and I even left Bobby for five minutes (he was fine). Of course, gym time ends and Bobby is a nightmare, but in positive Maya news, she held the knot line with one hand (like the other kids) and mine with the other, so we could all walk back. (I had to fireman carry Bobby out of the gym- that kid is STRONG). He walked once we got into the hallway and they both went back into the room (with me behind them) with no fuss.

Then it was snack time. They, I'm proud to say, sat at the table with the other kids and let the vols wash their hands. Then, they accepted their cups/snacks from the volunteers (while I helped with the other table of kids). While they were snacking, I said "Mommy is going to go to her classroom now, but I'll be back. I love you." Bobby didnt really look up; Maya waved bye-bye. I walked out of the class and made eye contact one last time before disappearing from view.

And then I sat in the hallway.

I waited for ten minutes, but they were fine with their snack. I would peek in without them seeing me, and they were still okay, so I opted to go to my class.

Where I lasted for about 20 minutes... Before I was paged back to the 2yo room... Where Bobby was in the floor crying and Maya was red faced. Good times.

When I hugged him, I explained that I had gone, but like I promised, I'd come back when he needed me. He hugged me and didnt want to let go, but the crying wasnt as bad as it was last week. They had immediately come for me once the upsetness started (as I'd requested) so that we could try building a place of trust (ie I'm upset and Mommy comes back. It's okay for me to be here. Etc.) Once he was calm, I went to where Maya was crying softly while trying to be brave and color with the other kids. When she saw me, the waterworks started, but I let her scramble into my lap, and I soothed her the same way. Yes, I left, but like I promised, I'd come back. It was okay.

We sat in the floor, the kids on either side of my lap, for 15 minutes until the program was near ending. Then, Maya got their jackets when I asked her to, and we got ready to go. They walked into the hall and got in the stroller. We went to Mr Bs and played a bit, had a meltdown when it was time for dipes (no one wanted to leave but they NEEDED to be changed), and then had lunch easily. Of course, after lunch, no one wanted to leave (I mean, there is the play place and all...) but it was noon and we've been trying to do lunch at noon, and nap by 12:30, so home it was. They were in bed by 12:25; Maya fell asleep right away and Bobby stopped his singing at 12:35. They are peacefully asleep as I type.

So... Got there a little after 9... I left to sit in the hallway at 10:20... Got to my class (which started at 9:15) at 10:30... Called back to their class at 10:50... We got to Mr. B's at 11:10. (Mr B's is a 2-3 minute walk from their classroom). It wasnt as traumatic as last week; even though I was with them for over an hour, they were starting to adjust to the new environment. And, while I was only away from them for half an hour (during the end of that, they were upset, I'm sure), it was better than the 15 minutes of nonstop screaming and then 15 minutes in my class that ended in me returning to the screaming that hadnt stopped, that we did last week. The volunteers all said that this was progress and that I'm welcome to come back next week (to stay with them until they are ready for me to leave). The woman who runs the program even told me that her grandson had a similar issue but eventually felt comfortable enough to stay.

Thank you to all who emailed, commented, or chatted with me with your stories and advice. I appreciate it. Initially, I agreed with people who said that maybe the kids arent ready for this enviroment; after today, I dont. I think they are ready; but I think that it is a new place and they are scared. And that's okay. I think that neither of us were ready last week and that I ended up making the wrong choice by leaving them behind when they were upset themselves (and probably felt my anguish and fear, too). Today, I tried to project that this was a safe place, a place where we could have fun together, and the knowledge that THEY were in control of when Mommy left and when she would return. I wanted them to know that I wouldnt leave them until they were okay with it and that if/when they wanted me back, they could trust that I would return. I think we made a start with that.

I also think they liked being with the other kids and making some new friends. Even though it's a small step (and they didnt get to hang out with the kids more than they chose to hang with me), I think that seeing the same group next week and the next may make it easier for them to feel comfortable.

My classmates were sweet. When I came in late, no one made an issue and the teacher, after hugging me, told me that it was fine and that most of the women were moms who got it. When the nursery vol came to get me, the teacher explained that Bobby and Maya were having a hard time getting used to their first time away and asked that the classroom stop for a moment and say a prayer for them and for me, which I thought was kind. It doesnt feel like people consider this a burden, more that this is an adjustment for everyone involved, and that made me feel better about the situation. I hope I eventually get to spend more than 20 minutes in the class (the discussion I was part of was very interesting) and that I get to know these women a little better.

So, Today is brought to you by the word BETTER. As in, it was better than last week and not the complete fail we had the first time. Hopefully next week will bring even brighter days!

Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

2011-09-19T13:58:00.000-04:00

September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and, if you happen to visit the CHOP website, the statistics are staggering. Cancer is the LEADING cause of death in children and, as I'm sure you realize, it is one of the least funded areas of research. It's no secret that pediatric oncology has a place in our family's heart, which is why Alex's Lemonade Stand is so important to us and why we've decided to make the Lemon Run a staple of our year. We'd love for you to join us in running or walking the 5K distance (3.12 miles) in honor of the children fighting this disease or in memory of the one's who have left this world because of it. Whether you can join in a local race or go to your local park and just walk to distance while your thoughts are with those precious children and their families... Whether you can't walk or run, but you want to donate to help fund the research that saves lives (and will one day find a cure)... You can make a difference for a child and their family.

We've been asked to share Robert's story as part of the Alex's Lemonade Stand Heros project. As I worked on his story, our family was shocked to learn that one of Peter's younger cousins had to be rushed to the hospital for pain, where it was discovered she had ovarian cancer. She's in her early 20s with her life ahead of her and now she feels as though she's been slammed into a wall. (On that note, I've sent out some emails to folks already, but if you are an ovarian cancer survivor, especially if this happened in your teens or early 20s, and are willing to connect with her, please email me.) On top of this, a child the kids and I had been praying for each day lost her battle with cancer. It's been a rough few weeks.

What could we accomplish if we put our heads together? If instead of our daily Starbuck's, we donated those funds to organizations of Alex's to fund more research? Isn't it worth that $5/day? Isn't the possibility that we could save ONE child- that we could give them the chance to grow up, to go to college, to marry and have children, that we could save a single family the heartbreak of burying a son or daughter, a brother or sister- isn't that worth it?

I'd love to say that I'm going to stop doing this or that until the time at which we have a cure... But ideology isn't going to win the war. Instead, I think we have to talk about it. Just like with infertility and loss, we have to break the silence and ignorance. We have to share our stories- THEIR stories-, open our wallets (and our hearts), lace up our running shoes, and focus on the cause. It's not about who discovers the cure or even when... It's about giving these families hope and doing whatever it is we can to give these special children the life that is out there waiting for them...

September doesnt have very many days left, but if you blog or facebook or if you dont (you probably still talk to someone during your day!), get the word out. Make the next few days your contribution to the cause. Educate someone. Donate something. Take a walk and pray. Meditate and send your energies to your local children's hospital. Reach out to a family in crisis. Read a book to a sick child (or, better yet, treat them like they were BEFORE they were sick... They may have cancer, but they still want a childhood!). Talk to a mother and dont expect her to break down on your shoulder (but let her if she needs to). Relax with a father (and dont expect him to sob like an infant but, if he does, let him know that it's okay). Remember with a family who has lost a child; you have no idea what simply saying that child's name and letting their parents and siblings know that YOU remember can mean. Blog about it, facebook a link, or just say a few words.

But it's here. It's not going away anytime soon. And, if we cant stop it from happening, we can at least work towards curing it. That cure starts by our words.

"September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month..."

(Click here to visit our Robert's Run page as part of the 2012 Lemon Run in Philadelphia)

Today Is Brought To You By The Word FAIL

2011-09-13T13:15:00.003-04:00

A blogger friend invited me to a women's Bible study at her church. The church offered a variety of different studies and childcare for kids of all ages, so after talking with Peter, we decided it would be a good experience for the kids to get to know other children their age, to have some time with a caregiver other then me (since we dont want Montossori school next fall to be their first big time away from Mama), and for me to play with my religion chops in a group setting (I love me some good religious discussion!). I signed up for one of the no charge/no book/no homework classes since, if things did bomb, I didnt want to have invested in materials.

I cant deny that I've been nervous as we've led up to this morning. Would the kids be okay? Would I be okay leaving them? How would I feel if everything went off without a hitch? How would I feel if it were a nightmare? Would the kids even get up in time so that we could make it to the church (20 minutes away) by 9am so that I could get them settled into the kids program and get to my class upstairs by 9:15?

Things seemed to be going well. Peter and I watched football until 11:30 last night, then went to bed, but I was still able to get up for a run this morning. Home, shower, Bobby up, Peter's shower, Maya's up, and breakfast. Yay! Things going well! I packed their lunch (I figured we'd play at Mr. B's and have lunch before heading home and that they'd possibly pass out in the car to start their nap) and then got them dressed. Score! We were in the car at 8:40!

The drive to the church was uneventful and we arrived promptly at 9. I passed another set of twins (who ended up going to the same 2 year old classroom) and rolled the kids into the church in their stroller. We got to the 2yo room and that's about where it went downhill... My worst thoughts? Multiply them by about 10 and that's where we were.

The room looked great. They had a half dozen motherly and grandmotherly volunteers, lots of toys, a book reading station, and little cubbies for the kids' stuff. There was a check-in where you took a key that corresponded to your child/ren so that they couldnt be signed out without you turning that in. The halfwall that blocked the door was locked and, although you could see tearstained faces and hear whines, the kids inside looked to be having a good enough time. Enter my kids.

The second I put them inside, they screamed and cried. Bobby climbed the wall to grab my shoulder and refused to let go. I peeled him off of me, but then he climbed the wall (I dont even know how) to try and climb over the sign-in ledge. I go inside to try and calm them and they both lunge for me, in tears. I showed them toys, books, you name it. They werent interested. At some point, Maya sees a toy she likes and walks away from me to investigate it, but by the time I've disengaged Bobby and shown him a toy, she's back. They finally walked away from me, but it was to go to a door (what I'm sure they saw as an exit). One of the volunteers assured me that if they were a mess and couldnt be calmed, someone would come get me. I got to my class around 9:15 and I'm not ashamed to say that I nearly cried myself.

At 9:30, someone tapped my shoulder and said "I'm sorry, but we've been unable to calm your son down."

Yeah. That was an understatement. As soon as I exited the stairwell from the 3rd floor to the 2nd floor (where they were), I could hear him screaming. And not just screaming, but that uncontrolled wailing that drives a stake directly through your heart. I go inside and he is laying on the floor, just bawling. A quick look finds Maya and her tearstained face in the arms of the one of the volunteers, looking at a toy. I go to Bobby who, once he hears my voice, opens his eyes, sobs, and leaps into my arms, burying his face in my shoulder and just letting go of the tears. Through the sobbing, I could hear "Mama" and just sobs. It broke my heart.

One of the volunteers explained that they were letting him cry on the floor because everytime someone tried to placate him, he just cried harder. While I understood it, it still broke me to the core as I held him, rocking him, calming him. Eventually he relaxed and sat down in my lap, letting me just kiss him and rub his forehead. And then Maya caught an eye of us.

Oh the tears. And the screaming. And the fighting away from the volunteer so she could run to where we were. She grabbed the other arm and Bobby slid over so she could get in my lap. She sobbed out "MamaMamaMama" before she starting choking on her own tears. It was all I could do not to cry. They were both red, blochy faced and in anguish. And I did that. I left them and brought them to such a state. Oh.My.God. I felt horrid.

I finally convinced them that we were going and they let me stand up. I gave over my keys, signed them out, and got them in the stroller. Maya didnt even want to hold my Bible (which has an illustrated Rosary section and you know her love of the Blessed Mother so that says a lot!). She just wanted to get away from the kids area. I thought they might like to go to Mr Bs, maybe run off some energy. They let me take them there and take their shoes off, but after about 2 minutes, they both went tohe door and wanted to go home. So, that's what we did. We went home.

They were miserable. MISERABLE. We finally got home, played a bit, had lunch, and they went to bed. But, I feel so horrible and, for the first time, I'm second guessing myself.

I know that plenty of people send their kids to daycare from the start and experience the growing pains right away. And there are plenty of folks who stay home for a while and then send kids to nursery school and deal with this. So, I'm not alone. And most people say "Just keep it up and they'll get used to it."

But I dont know... I'm not sure I can do that. The looks on their faces. The heartbreak. My own heartbreak! It was a type of devestation that I havent felt since they were 3 months old and I left them with Peter- their FATHER!- for an hour and heard them sobbing when I returned. And he's their dad! They love him and know him!

I had initally thought, when they were babies and RSV season had passed, that maybe I'd go to the gym and leave them at the kids program so I could workout for an hour. Talking to Peter about that, however, we made the decision to not do that. I'm wondering now if that was a mistake. Should we have brought them into a group environment sans a parent earlier? At 2 years old, are they just so used to Peter and I (or even my MIL or Sarah) that trying to adjust to a new environment is just too much of a shock?

The volunteer whom Maya "liked" told me that she and Maya seemed to bond, once Maya was away from Bobby (who, at that point, was screaming like a banshee on the floor). She's always been slightly more social (usually) so I'm not surprised she made a friend and allowed herself to be wooed by toys. They said that she was crying and trying to love on him because he was so upset and, since she couldnt help him, she cried even harder. So, they tried to break them up to help her transition and in the hopes that one of the volunteers could help Bobby settle. Whether that made him worse, I dont know, but it seemed to help her a bit. And, possibly, had he settled down, they both would have been fine by the time the 2 hours was over. But seeing me, she definitely showed that she wasn't happy and was just settling until that time that she could get what she wanted: me.

So, I'm pretty shaken, to be honest. Did we do them a disservice by not introducing them to an environment like this earlier? Is this something we just have to deal with and eventually it will get better? We'd initially said we'd give it a month and if each week was nightmare (it would be every Tuesday morning) then we'd throw in the towel and say they just arent ready for this. But now I dont know. I want to throw in the towel now!

I called Peter and filled him in on the drama. He was at work and, obviously, couldnt talk, but said we'll discuss how to make this work when he gets home.

On the one hand, I think it will be good for them to get used to an environment without a caregiver they are used to and to make new friends their own age. On the other hand, I dont want them just fawning over relative strangers and easily letting go of me. There's not an easy answer to the problem. We didnt want to make this a time where they were watched by my MIL; a big part of me signing up for the study was so that the kids could have this opportunity. If they arent ready for that (or dont want it), then it's not worth it to me to continue and try to arrange outside care.

So, now we're deciding whether or not they aren't ready or if the shock of this was just too much and maybe next week (or the next) might be better.

But their red eyes and splotchy cheeks all scream out the word for the day. F-A-I-L

Happy 2nd Birthday!

2011-09-10T08:16:00.002-04:00

So, today's the day... My little 2 pounders are officially 2 years old! (and huge in comparison!) We'll have their 2 year check up next week, so I wont guess, but Bobby is as solid as a rock and Maya, our little feather, is full of girl power. They are amazing to watch.

They're watching Super Why! with Peter right now and, fittingly, it's a birthday episode. I just finished
"playground mulching" some of our backyard, in the anticipation of both rain and kids this afternoon (I'm hoping the one will stay away!). Now, it's off to Target to pick up the remaining odds and ends (like paper products!) for their party. I made their cake yesterday (yeah, Cake Boss I am NOT!) and I have to finish preparing the food and the note cards for what is gluten free/vegetarian/vegan/etc. and then I'm pretty much done. Oh, and punch.... Got to make my mom's punch...

My babies aren't babies anymore. They are full blown toddlers and have been for some time, even if I've been holding back admitting that fully to myself. No longer do we count in months, but years... No longer will their adjusted age be mentioned because, at 2, children who will catch up are deemed to have done so (although I dont know the last time anyone actually did mention it).

We're at that point where the toddler moves towards the preschooler. It feels strange to turn the corner from infant to toddler and to anticipate the future. And it's a future I feel confident about, truly.

Happy Birthday, Bobby and Maya. Every day of my life with you, from start to now, has been an utter blessing. Sometimes a fearful, tear stained blessing, but a huge blessing nonetheless. I love you so much and hope your birthday is perfect and wonderful, and a blueprint of your days to come.

10 Days of Firsts: Day 9

2011-09-09T23:03:00.005-04:00

Today is the last day that my babies are 1 year olds... It's crazy to think that tomorrow they will be 2!

The first for today wasnt nearly as fun as milkshakes or going to the kidzone; it was more of a developmental thing I suppose. I had an appointment with Dr. B., so my MIL came over after the kids had breakfast to babysit. Now, this isnt so big of a first- she sees the kids regularly and they go to visit she and my FIL on Wednesdays- but this would be the first time they would be doing a nap time without me (or Peter).

I confess... I still sing to the kids and snuggle them whenever I can sneak it in! With Maya, she wants to be put in her bed, with her 'night-night' entourage, and (if I'm lucky) will let me sing a verse of "Oh Maya Girl" or "May the Road Rise..." to her. The get out; she wants to go to bed and you need to be elsewhere. Bobby will let me sing a few verses and get in some good snuggles and sometimes even calls me back to him after he's been in bed for a while and decides he need more Mama Tunes. I dont mind. But, I also realize that him moving towards Maya's speed of 'get-the-hell-out-so-I-can-go-to-bed' is important. And being able to go to bed without Mamalove is also important, not because I dont want to give it, but because at some point (like the half marathon in 2 weeks) I wont be here for 2 naptimes and 1 bedtime.

Their big kid beds have made a world of difference in our lives (I'll be doing a review of these soon because we LOVE them so much), and they've made a 12 hour stretch of toddler-sleeping at night a reality where we were getting maybe 8-9 hours (which is fine if you want to go to bed by 8pm every night...). So, this is good. Naps are good too. We still get a nice 2-3 hour nap every day (2-2.5 hours is the norm), but again, there's the Mamalove and singing.

Today, Peter's mom put them in their beds around 11:45. They chatted back and forth (while she hung out in the living room). Maya was out by 11:50; she went in to see Bobby because he started to get noisy, but it was only a minor intervention and she left. He was out fifteen minutes later. He slept 2 hours, Maya slept 3. All in all, it was successful! I'll admit, I'm a little sad that I was easily forgotten (of course, coming home to the love was well worth it!) but I'm also proud that they were able to go to bed on their own without Peter or I here.

Naps and bedtime are pretty easy routines around here. They know the deal and they go to bed these days with relative ease. It's just another way they are growing up (and, to be honest, I think I'm less ready for this than they are!).

Thursday...2 years ago

2011-09-08T17:31:00.002-04:00

2 years ago, September 10th was a Thursday. I'd had a day of visitors and around 4/4:30, if memory serves, had my first of 2 Procardia doses that didnt work. Around this time (5:15), I was on the phone with Dr. M., who told me she was coming back to the hospital and to hang tight. Then it was over to the C-section prep room to sign the papers for the spinal and to get ready for a C-section that would take place on that Thursday night, about 2 hours out from now...

I look back at myself on that day. Scared. Excited. Terrified. Hopeful. Out of mind with worry and every other emotion imaginable. Praying that Bobby and Maya would be okay... That they would take a breath... That they would live to see a long, healthy life... That if someone had to die that night, that it would be me and not them, as though somehow I could barter my life for theirs. I remember the look on Peter's face when he was shown back to the prep room. I remember my 2 favorite APU nurses, Kim and Janet, still there with me. even though their shifts were coming to an end. Janet rubbing my back through contractions (and herself about to pop with her Halloween baby), Kim holding my hand and finding the babies on the TOCO, assuring me they were okay and that she wouldnt leave my side.

She didnt, either. She traded shifts with a delivery nurse so that she could be there. She held me when Dimitri, the anesthesiologist, gave me the spinal. She held my hand when the blue curtain went up and they brought Peter back. She leaned in and, even though her face was covered, I could tell by her eyes that she was smiling when she told me that Dr. M. had arrived and was suiting up and updating Dr. B. on the phone in the hallway.

The surgery was over relatively quickly in the grand scheme of things. Babies didnt cry. They were whisked away where two women I'd come to know and love over our NICU journey, Michelle and Kerri, took care of them, along with a team of neonatlogists, respiratory therapists, and other nurses. They showed us Bobby wrapped in plastic; he was so tiny, so pink, so beautiful. Maya was wheeled by in an incubator and I remember that gorgeous hair, brilliant like a ray of sunlight... those scrunched up eyes... An image of sheer lovliness... A fighting Irish temper even then. Peter left me in the capable hands of Dr. M. and Kim, and followed the babies to the 6th floor.

In recovery, I remember Kim and Janet, long after they should have gone home to their own families, coming back to give me an update. They'd been upstairs and had checked in on the peanuts, telling me they were healthy and doing great under the circumstances. I was relieved; of all the people, I knew they werent going to bullshit me. They'd never sugarcoated the situation; to hear them say that Bobby and Maya were fine was like being thrown a life jacket in a rapid filled river. It didnt get us out of the water, but we were afloat. And, at that point, that's all I wanted.

Thursday night... The weather, not rainy if I remember, but still the start of the fall season... Leaves starting to turn and fall, but summer still lingering. Today, as I watched them climb on the huge monster of a "kidzone", as I hear Maya count to ten and Bobby sing the ABCs on the way into the garage this afternoon, as she tells me "Potty" and he leads me back to his changing table... I'm reminded of the 2 pound peanuts that were in my womb a mere 2 years ago and how, on a Thursday night, they came into this world and fought tooth and nail to stay here. We had a few set backs, but all in all, we were lucky that we got off the rollercoaster as easily as we did. And I'm grateful. To Dr. B and Dr. M.... to Kim and Janet and all the APU nurses and residents who took care of us during my 7 week stay... to Michelle and Kerri and the NICU nurses who cared for Bobby and Maya with such love during our 9 week NICU journey... to our families and friends and clergy who supported and loved us... to every single person who uttered our name in prayer or touched their heart with thoughts of us... Eternally grateful. Every day. But especially this Thursday evening.

The first time I held them together, 9/23/09

The loves of my life, July 2011

10 Days of Firsts: Day 8

2011-09-08T13:01:00.002-04:00

Lunch with Annie B @ Molly Maguire's! (yes, the kids go to pubs... another sign of my great parenting! in my defense, they even have a "kids eat free" promotion on Mondays, so I'm not the only parent taking my kid to an Irish pub!)

The kids went to MMs back when they were uber little. Sarah and I took them and sat in the window so they could watch the cars. They were eating solid foods a'la mashed potatoes, so not really "eating" in the general sense. Today was a little off, since we met Ann (aka Annie B since "Aunt Ann" sounds a little funny and "Annie" is a play on the word "auntie" as well as her name) at the time when the kids would be going down for their nap. But they were troopers! Maya ate a decent bit of lunch (and even managed to use her spoon and fork for a good amount!), although Bobby preferred to drink his (juice people! get your minds out of my Guinness!). I brought the rest of their meal (scallops, rice, and steamed veggies) home for second lunch when they get up from their nap (which they are having right now). There were a few mini-meltdowns and, over the hour, we didnt have a lot of chatting, but it was a good time to get together with a dear friend and to celebrate her birthday as well as Bobby and Maya's (they are all three sapphire babies!) But, at the end of the lunch outting, we were all still alive, Mommy hadn't had a meltdown (although that Guinness probably helped!), and the kids made it home awake and ready for bed. And we had a lovely first, since the kids have never lunched with Ann before!

10 Days of Firsts: Day 7

2011-09-07T09:22:00.001-04:00

2 things are working against me today: the weather (it is wet!) and the fact that the kids visit their paternal grandparents on Wednesdays. But, I still managed a first!

We had an indoor picnic for breakfast!

The kids were quite surprised when I pulled out a blanket and brought breakfast into the living room! We sat and ate breakfast bars and apple slices and juice, snuggled a bit, and watched some Super Why!. What a fun little extra this morning!

10 Days of Firsts: Day 6

2011-09-06T17:48:00.000-04:00

Went to the library as free range babies today!

I'd taken the kids to the library I used to manage way back when... They were TINY and in their carriers, and then we went to a library fundraiser, but they've never been in the children's section and certainly not "free range" to run around! Well, that changed today! They behaved well (let's be honest... they were noisier than the librarian in me would have liked and they climbed on the kid furniture like every other toddler I've seen, but they were "good" in the general sense!). It was nice to see some of the folks I knew and we even checked out 2 books!

Summer Photos

2011-09-06T09:49:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I've been lazy, but I finally got my stuff together, had Peter add photos to my laptop, and have recently added them all to Facebook!

May 2011: some were already there, but I added the remainder of what we'd taken for the month.

June 2011: these include pictures from our anniversary trip.

July 2011

August 2011

September 2011: obviously, this file will be added to. This has all the pics from our cooking adventure yesterday. Their birthday will be its own file.

Whew! That's a lot of pictures! Honestly, I dont know how we'd ever share them with all our friends and family if it weren't for Facebook. It's way too much work to even imagine emailing these- even the highlights!

10 Days of Firsts: Day 5

2011-09-05T20:11:00.000-04:00

Today's big first... COOKING!

In the past, the kids have "helped" me by putting things on the table or back in the pantry, but I've never really gotten into letting them measure flour, stir, etc. So, today's firsts were cooking lessons with Mama!

Maya made pancakes! I showed her how to do every step, but she measured and poured flour and almond milk, stirred, dolloped batter onto the frying pan, flipped a pancake (with assistance of course!), plated, and ate! And she was quite thrilled with herself!!!

Bobby made chocolate buttercream frosting and iced a chocolate fig cake I made for dinner last night! He used the mixer, tasted to make sure it was okay!, slathered the icing on the cake, and then, of couse, checked the frosting again... He really enjoyed eating the frosting more than frosting the cake, but who can blame him! It is chocolate buttercream of course!

At the end of the day, the three "kids" took the top of the double boiler where I'd melted icelandic chocolate for the frosting and stole a moment on the kitchen floor.

Letting It Go

2011-09-04T18:01:00.004-04:00

Our crib was the first gift we ever received. Shortly after we found out we were pregnant and we were, like most new pregnant couples, scoping out furniture, we found some that we loved. It was a beautiful honey color that matched our bedroom furniture. We fell in love. We knew that was THE furniture for us. Peter's parents, shortly after we discovered Nicholas and Sophia were on their way, bought us the crib as a Christmas gift and our first baby gift.

We completed the nursery with Alexander. But the crib was the only piece that we had for all the kids. We'd put it up when we were preparing for the adoption and it has been in our room since. So, recently, as we were preparing to get the kids their big kid beds, we discussed selling the nursery furniture. And, as surprised as I was, someone immediately responded and, as of today, we no longer have the means to have a nursery in the house. The funds actually paid for the "big kid" furniture the kids have (and 2 smaller pieces to put their PJs and socks in, since we didnt really use the dressers to their full capacity anyway) which, really, is how it should be. But it is strange, walking by Bobby and Maya's rooms and seeing no dressers... Looking in our room and seeing no crib... I mean, I knew this day would come sometime, but, it's still a shock to my heart.

And, as we count down the final six days to Bobby and Maya's 2nd birthday, we have removed the gates from their rooms as well, so they are truly free range babies. That's a shock to me as well... Babies who are now securely toddlers...

Time's flying and sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding onto the wing of the plane!

10 Days of Firsts: Day 4

2011-09-04T17:48:00.002-04:00

Today, Sarah (AKA Aunt RaRa) and I took to the kids to Merrymead Farm, a local dairy farm that houses a few farm animals, stocks local produce, and, of course, uses their milk to make ice cream. The kids got to walk around the animal areas and saw cows, calves, hogs, and a variety of other animals. And what visit would be complete without milkshakes!

So, while this wasn't their first milkshake (nor was it their first visit to the farm, as we get our pumpkins there), it was their first Merrymead milkshake and it was their first time there walking around (or should I say, running around!) and seeing the animals.