Second Chances

There are many facets in my life that I think of as before and after.  Anything before April 2011 was THEN.  Anything after is NOW.  While it makes sense to keep different parts of my life separate, I am not sure it is the best way to live in thew now when I still often think of the then.

Confusing enough for you?  Here's an example. I ran out today to get a pedicure.  It will probably be the last one I get for a while as the summer is winding down and soon enough, we will also have day care bills.  So not only will I not really need one, but I will have a hard time justifying the expense.  Anyway, while I was chilling out in the massage chair and getting the royal treatment, I happened to notice a woman walk in with her daughter.  She was a young girl and I heard her mom say that she was 3.   They went through the very difficult decision of choose the exact right color and then the little girl sat in the big girl chair and started to get a pedicure of her own.  Her mom looked on while snapping pictures and grinning from ear to ear.

My eyes filled up as I remember telling my Labor and Delivery nurse in the class that we took that I could not wait for Allie and me to do that exact same thing together.

Suddenly I realized that I can still do all those things.  With Miranda.

Then I felt badly that Miranda was not my first thought.  Most days I fell badly that Allie is no longer my first thought.

Then.  Now.

Who I was versus who I am.

It's complicated!

In the end, I stopped paying attention to the family at the other end of the salon and continued to enjoy the last few minutes of being pampered.  I have all sorts of reasons for my eyes to fill up with tears, but as long as I keep it in check, then I think I am ahead of the game. As I say very often, I have one little girl in my heart and one in my arms (and also in my heart).  There is plenty of room for both.

I have been given a second chance...and a third and a fourth and a fifth.  Each day there is a new chance to experience something new, to live in the now, to make the most of what I got.

Sometimes I just need to be reminded of it, I guess.

Playing with some leaves with Daddy

A selfie with Mommy

Enjoying a visit with family

Beginning Over Again

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”   F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

My niece Ella was born on April 9, 2011.  I was due with Allie in May of that same year.  My brother's daughter and my little girl were going to grow up together. They would share secrets and laughs and stories and dreams.  They would share toys and clothes and hobbies and hopes.

On April 22nd, exactly 2 weeks later, that dream shattered.

My niece Summer was born this past Tuesday.  We are beginning over again.

Ella's little sister and Allie's little sister can grow up together.  They can share secrets and laughs and stories and dreams.  They can share toys and clothes and hobbies and hopes.  They do not make me sad for what was once but instead make me happy for what is.

I sat next to my sister-in-law just a few hours after she became a mom for the second time and she remarked how great it is that Miranda and Summer are just over 4 months apart.  They are going to be so close.  With tears in my eyes, I agreed with her.  It was what we had always planned for.

When I first found out that there was a new cousin on the way, I burst into tears.  I excused myself and ducked into a bathroom and cried till my eyes burned.  Pregnancy for me is not sunshine and lollipops.  It's fear and anxiety and 40 weeks of panic. 

Or at least it was.

A good friend from work had a happy and healthy baby boy in February.  The day we went to meet her baby for the first time was the morning after we heard from our social worker that there was a birth mom that was interested in us.  Then came Miranda.  Then came Summer.

Not all babies are born still.  Many, in fact, are not.

Gary stayed home from work with Miranda on Tuesday so I could go in as I had some trainings that I simply could not miss.  I went to work and had my phone glued to my hand.  A text from my mom that they were stuck in traffic.  Another that they were there.  One from my brother that the scheduled surgery was delayed.  And then the last one that said that Summer was here.

I finished up what I had to do and raced to the hospital.  The hospital where Gary and I went a little over 2 years ago to meet Ella.  The one where we joked that I might as well stay and have Allie since I was so close to my due date.  The hospital that I have pictured over and over in my head wishing I had just stayed there back then.  I remember so vividly when I greeted my new niece with my swollen belly very much present. 

I was so excited that I barely remember parking.  I almost jogged into the Maternity Ward.  I got buzzed in and I turned the corner to enter their room.  There she was.

Looking so teeny in my brother's arms, all my fears melted away.  She is here.  She is alive. 

Daddy and Summer

This baby is our second chance for all our girls to grow up together.  She is warmth and light and all that is truly great about Summer.

I held my new niece and stared deep into her face.  My mom, knowing me oh so well, stood by my side to make sure I was ok.  She knew that it might be hard for me to be back to where I was just over 2 years ago.  But it wasn't hard for me at all.  Summer made it that way.  And while there was no baby in my belly this time, there is one in my heart and one waiting for me at home. 

Looking at my new niece, I saw traces of Allie.  Even now, several days later, I am not sure what I saw for sure.  Maybe what I saw is just what love looks like.

I left the hospital feeling full of love and joy.  My heart was full and I could not wait to get home and tell Gary every single detail and explain to Miranda that she is no longer the baby of the family!

Tomorrow we will go as a family to meet this latest addition.  It will be the first of many Saturday's we spend together.  The first of many play dates between all 3 girls.  The second chance too set right what got delayed when Allie died.

For the rest of you that have been experiencing Summer for the last few months, I have got to tell you something.  Summer has just arrived.

Summer and Me

Uncle Jeff, Me, Summer and Daddy

Summer

Painted Ponies

For much of this weekend, I have had "The Circle Game" by Joni Mitchell in my head.  Earlier, I was singing to Miranda and I heard Gary say, "Sing that last one again".  I looked up and asked what he was talking about.  Apparently the song was not just in my head.  I had been singing it out loud.

I wrote about that song back in October 2012 and how much I liked it.  How much it resonated with me.  And here, less than a year later, I am able to sing that song to my daughter.  It brought tears to my eyes.

I could not figure out why it popped into my head now.  Why it was on repeat all weekend long.  Then I took a step back and it all made sense.

On Friday evening, pre-bath time for Miranda and post-work time for Gary (I had the day off),  we went to a new local comic book store.  My husband loves any and all things comic related so when he said there was a new store that he wanted to check out since a friend from work told him they had a good selection, I did not think twice about it.  I just asked when we were leaving.

When we arrived, I had this odd sensation that everyone was looking at me.  Gary's coworker met us at the door and ushered us in.  Now usually, in a comic book store, I am one of the only women.  And in this instance, Miranda was certainly the only baby.  But it wasn't that.  It was something else entirely.

My memory is a little fuzzy as what came next was a surprise and I am very rarely surprised.  Gary mentioned that he had a surprise for me and I turned around and saw the wife of his coworker sitting at a little table.  On the table were 2 little painted clay ponies. No more than 5 inches tall.  One in the style of Captain America and the other like Wonder Woman.  I had never seen anything like it!  Turns out, this woman is an artist and she makes little clay ponies for whomever wants them!  She had a display in the comic book store and her husband mentioned it to Gary when he was telling Gary about this store.  Gary asked if she did commissions.  Like that, an idea was born.

As I was looking at these unique pieces of art, the woman reached down into a nearby box and said she had something else that might be interesting to me as well.  And out came this piece:

Our Family

There are 4 ponies.  A dragon pony for Gary as that has been his nickname since we got together.  We joked once that he did not have a Hebrew name so that is the name he and my brother decided would be his Hebrew name.  It stuck.  Next, there is a turtle pony to represent me.  She even has my hair.  Next was a slightly smaller rainbow pony / unicorn for Miranda.  She has a heart with an "M" and all the colors of the rainbow.  Last, but not least, is the butterfly pony for Allie.  A dark mane of hair and full, beautiful wings make her stand out.  They are all on a walnut wood base.

I started to cry.  Good tears.  Sad tears.  Surprised tears.  Happy tears.  I always love to be reminded of Allie and to see "her" sitting there snugly with the rest of our family, well, it was almost magical to me.

All the characters together

 And the seasons they go 'round and 'round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We're captive on the carousel of time
We can't return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

I was speechless the whole ride home from the comic book store.  In some ways, I still am.


The ponies are a reminder of the how much I am loved.  Of how whimsical my husband can be.  Of how cute my family can be when made into ponies!

All weekend long, during brunch with my side of the family yesterday and then again today, during lunch with some friends we met through our adoption agency, the ponies kept leaping into my mind.  No wonder I keep singing this song!

Since going back to work, I am finding myself feeling overwhelmed quite a bit.  I feel pulled in so many different directions and I am not sure I am getting it all "right".  This special and rare and one-of-a kind gift from Gary is a little reminder of how much I mean to him and how much our family means to us.  Little clay ponies!  How cool is that??

I can't wait till Miranda gets up in the morning and I can sing that song to her.  I can't wait for her to get older and for me to share the ponies with her.  I can't wait to see what our carousel has in store for us!

Mommy Market

Yesterday, I went to my first Mommy Market. It's a community based one-stop shop for moms (and dads!) to buy, sell or trade the stuff they want, need, or want to get out rid of!  They are held all over the area at different times throughout the year.  Yesterday, it was at a church but I have also seen them at fire halls and community centers.  I have always wanted to go but never had a reason.  Until now.

My mom and I went over shortly after it opened to check it out.  While Miranda wants for nothing, we figured it would be neat to see what kinds of things people were selling and maybe there would be a thing or two that we could pick up.  We wandered around and weaved in and out of the crowds trying to find the best deals.  Found some sleepers for $1.  Got a swing for my mom's house for $10.  Books were 2/$1.  We spent less than $20 and got some good deals!  We also helped some parents empty out the boxes that were probably in their basements so it was a win-win.

At one point, I stopped and looked up and snapped this quick picture.  I wanted to remember the feeling I had at that exact moment.  I was really and truly a mom.  In every sense of the word.  I totally belonged there.

Miranda had her 4 month check up on Friday and she is thriving.  The doctor kept saying "good job, mom" or "you are doing great, dad" but Miranda is the one who should get all the credit.  She lets us know what she needs and it's up to us to make sure she gets it.  Within reason, of course!  We are starting her on some rice and oatmeal and then in about a month, moving to fruits and veggies.  While I should be happy that she is growing and developing so well, part of me does not quite want to let go of the baby stage.  So we are going to feed her very slowly!

Miranda has been rewarding us with all sorts of coo's and smiles and recently, giggles.  With all the music I listen to, nothing compares to the sounds she makes.  Nothing.

I feel a bit guilty that I am as happy as I am.  I think, though, the best kind of happiness comes from the worse kind of sadness.  No, that's not right.  I mean I appreciate the happiness more knowing how extreme the opposite of it can be.

Today, a high school friend came over to meet our rainbow.  She brought her kids, who were instantly comfortable in our house and playing with Gary's superhero toys.  She also brought a play kitchen and some puzzles and bags of books for Miranda to play with as she grows older.  I realized then that as much as I liked the mommy market and the feeling I had while I was there, I was even happier with these toys and books that I will be able to share with Miranda and tell her about the family that they came from.  The mom that I have known since 6th grade.  We used to watch "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" and SpaceCamp during our sleepovers.  We talked about our crushes and shared our secrets.  I hope Miranda is lucky to have a life-long friend like that.  A friend that I had not seen in 2 years and yet we picked up exactly where we left off.

I am blessed to have several friends like that.  Ones that have a bag of clothes or a box of hand me downs every time I see them.  Miranda already has a snow suit.  And Crocs that change color in the sun.  And a Juicy Couture sweatsuit.  And each item comes with so much love that we can fill all the spaces around us.

And so I will end this fairly disjointed blog with a few pictures...it makes sense to me that I am all over the place these days so of course my writing is, too.  But at least I am writing.  And remembering.  And being thankful.  And loving.  And being loved.  All while being a mom.  That's pretty $%*&^ cool!!

For Allie and Leo

There once was a woman named Sam.  She lived in the Greater Philadelphia area.  She was a newlywed.  She was Jewish.  She was in her mid 30's.  She was fortunate to get pregnant relatively easily.  Her son's name was Leo.  She delivered him.  He was born still.  Her life was forever changed.

Our stories are eerily similar.  We even share the same name!  A mutual friend connected us with each other back in 2011 and we have been "pen pals" every since.  She has been an avid reader of my blog and we connected on Facebook.  At first, Gary and I wanted to meet her and her husband but they were not ready.  When they were ready, Sam was pregnant with her rainbow and we were not ready.  So we waited.

Today we were both ready.

I was so nervous on my way to meet Sam and her 15 month old daughter, Sydney.  I felt like it was a blind date!  I checked my lipstick in the car, put Miranda in the prettiest little outfit (which is insane as there is not an outfit she has that is not adorable) and I nervously walked the stroller over to our meeting spot.

I saw her before she saw me and my heart jumped into my chest.  Even now, several hours later as I write about it, I feel the tears behind my eyes.  Then she saw me and ran over and gave me the biggest hug that I have ever gotten from a stranger.  Except that is really is not a stranger. She is my friend.  A sister I met in grief who turned into a friend that I will have for life.

Our Rainbows

We were instantly comfortable with each other.  We talked and talked and talked.  We walked laps around the mall.  We talked about Allie.  We talked about Leo. We talked about Sydney.  We talked about Miranda.  We talked about parenting after a loss.  Neither of us got a chance to do it any other way.  Does that make us different parents?  We feel that it does.  Better?  Probably not!  Just different.

We said things out loud that we would only share with each other about fear and loss and grief and pain.  We laughed and smiled and shared happy stories, too.  We talked about hope and frustration.  We talked about adoption and fertility.  We talked about rainbows and how symbolic they are in the baby loss community. There was so much we did not get to say - so much that we will save for the next time as there will be a next time.

The time flew by.  We met at 11.  Then it was 12.  Then it was 1.  We stopped for pizza and then kept walking.  We eventually had to say goodbye but it was really goodbye for now.

I felt like I knew her my whole life.  In some ways, maybe I have.

So to Allie and Leo - thank you for bringing us together.  Thank you for the lessons you teach us each and every day.  Thank you for letting us share your stories and remember you.  We love you.

Looking at Allie's butterfly bush

Limbo

Limbo is defined as "an intermediate place or state". I think it's technically a religious term but that is not how I think of it.  I think of it is a place in between where you are and where you want to be.  

I feel like I am in limbo right now and I can't really explain why.  Being a mom, a real live parenting mom is a gazillion times more awesome than I ever dreamed.  It's also that much harder.  And I have help.  Real help.  A husband / dad who does every bit as much as me.  And yet it's still being on, 100% of the time.  Putting the needs of the baby before yours.  Making sure she wants or needs for nothing.

I am getting used to being a working mom.  Last week was easier than the first week.  I found myself able to enjoy the time at my desk or immersing myself in my work and I sure loved getting paid on Friday!  But I still struggle with dropping her off and pulling out of the driveway knowing that it will be hours before I will see her again.

I miss parts of my life pre-Miranda. And I hate myself for saying that as before her, all I could think about was her. And her sister.  Maybe what I miss is not the life I had before but the grief that I was able to hang on to more before.  Maybe that's it.  Allie has become a butterfly in the truest sense.  She flutters around and I see her several times a day but there is not much time for anything else.  Her room is Miranda's room.  Her clothes are Miranda's clothes.  It's not like she has been replaced...and yet it is harder to feel her like I used to.

I still look at the scar that stretches below my belly and I try to remember Allie inside of me.  It hurts.  I think of that naive woman that I was then and I miss her.  She is long gone.

We will always talk to Miranda about adoption.  She will always know that her birth mother did not "give her up" but hand picked Gary and I to raise her and be her parents.  And yet I have this vision of her watching me get ready for work or a party like I used to do with my own mother and ask me why I have that scar.  How will I tell her it was from a baby that I had that is not here?  How do we explain stillbirth when I do not understand it myself?  I never want her to feel like she was Allie's replacement - I want her to know that we loved Allie so much that we knew we had to grow our family so that we could share that love.  It's so hard.  

I am not sure why I feel like I am in limbo, but I do. I also feel like the girl in the bubble.  Is that a thing?  Our lives so completely revolve around this little girl that I have lost sight of other things.  I am aware of current events and heat waves and maybe even gas prices, but I feel so out of the loop on other things.  But do those other things matter?  If so,why?

I suspect that these feelings are not that unique to me.   Maybe it's a little bit of feeling like I have all that I have ever wanted...now what?  I think I need to take a step back and just live in the moment. Enjoy all the coo's and giggles and love and affection and take each stage and each step as it comes.  Only then will my feeling of limbo subside as I move on to the next phase or the next stage.  

I need to remember to be kind to myself.  My heart and soul have been through a lot these past few years.  It's ok to feel what I feel.  Whatever that is.  Those feelings make me who I am.  They are as much as part of me as anything else.  I can feel up and I can feel down.  As long as I love and allow myself to be loved, I think I will be just fine.

My heart

86%

86 % of working mothers say they “sometime / frequently” feel stressed.  Phew.  Ok.  It's not just me.

As far as weeks go, last one was not a bad one.  Miranda slept through the night each night.  We got her to my mom's each morning on time.  We got to work on time (even early).  We picked her up without any trouble.  When my mom ran out of formula, she made more.  When Miranda got fussy, they went for walks.  By the end of the week, they were pros.

Everyone has been very accommodating at work.  I was greeted with many hugs and happy smiles and so many people stopped by my desk to see how I was.  Miranda was given some presents. I was given lots of advice.  There was a welcome back lunch.  It was nice to have a routine again.

It took me well into the 2nd day to go to the bathroom when I wanted to and to refill my water bottle when it was empty - I had gotten very used to doing many things very rushed or not at all that I am not quite used to having some time of my own again - even if it is while I am at work!  Gary and I went out to lunch one day and opened a bank account for Miranda.  A task much easier to do without her with us!  My arms felt empty during those days, but not in the way they felt empty when Allie died. They felt lighter, I guess...knowing they would be full again by dusk or sooner each night.

I was as exhausted this week as I was the week we first brought the baby home.  Every bone in my body hurt.  My pores hurt.  The stress from the going back and the planning out each day and the making sure she is ok and that my mom was ok and then trying to actually do some work on top of it was exhausting.  But I did it.  And I will continue to do it.  At least that is the plan for now! I am sure next week when I get my first pay check since Easter, I will be very happy that I went back!

I miss Miranda when I am not with her.  I wonder what she is doing.  I know she is having a good time and being so well taken care of, but I still micro-manage my ever-patient mom.  When did she eat, did she burp, did she nap, for how long...and on and on and on.  And she has not once told me to stop asking.  Bless her heart.  She understands as she raised 3 children.  She understands because she knows me.  She understands because she loves the family that I have built.  She understands because she has been waiting for the privilege to help me raise my daughter for some time now.

Miranda Hope.  We sure picked the right name for her.  She is all that we ever hoped for each and every day.

I feel like that stress level may decline for me once I really get into the swing of things.  But it may not.  Only time will tell.  

My last statistic for now:  85% percent of working mothers who say they are “very happy” or “pretty happy”.  Hmmm...interesting.  I have talked to a lot of mom's who work and many of them love the time they have for themselves and their careers as well as the time they have for their children and their families.  It's finding the balance that will help me.  And with so many great people in my corner and such an amazing family on my side, I think I just might be able to do that.  In the meantime, however, I am not upset that tomorrow is only Sunday and I get one more day at home!!

Miranda's "Village" of caregivers

Uncle Jeff trying out a new way to take Miranda for a walk!

She sleeps just fine at my mom's!

A surprise gift from Gary to remind me of our butterfly.  I wear this bracelet along with Miranda's birthstone necklace that Gary got me for Mother's Day.  I have both my girls with me no matter where I am.