A Writer Writes

Or does she?

I somehow got lost earlier this year. I lost myself. In spite of doing everything I thought was "right", I was getting it all wrong. So what now?

The first step was to admit something was wrong. I was not feeling good about myself and I did not like that at all.

I am in a fortunate position in that my husband is super supportive. He wants me to be happy and is willing to sacrifice an awful lot to make that happen. So together we came up with a plan.

I gave my notice at work on Friday. This week will be my last one. Although there were some perks (a nice quiet commute, a desk with no sippy cups or juice boxes, dressing in grown-up clothes), it just was not for me. The job was not challenging and I was starting to get lazy. I am not sure anyone noticed the shift but me, but I was no longer proud of what I had done by the end of the day. I was staring at the clock and found myself more looking forward to the lunch specials in the cafeteria than the work I was doing. (To be fair, they have a really good cafeteria!).

So I am leaving. I am putting myself first. I am a writer and I want to write. So that is what I will do.

That may mean less time at Old Navy. That may mean no new Coach bag this season. That may also mean more time to run again and cook again and take care of myself again and more time to become the best version of me.

I was recently talking to someone about being a mom, specifically an adoptive mom. And how in some ways, that is extra special to me because that means that someone actually picked me to raise the child she created. That's a HUGE responsibility and while I think I am kicking ass at it (too modest?), part of being a good mom is to also be good to myself and to show my daughter what a happy and content woman looks like. It's more than a paycheck and putting food on the table - it's also about being personally fulfilled and taking good care of yourself.

Who knows what will happen next? I will finish up working this week and then next week, I will start my next chapter. One I am writing, so it better be good! I guess we will see...

Spring Ahead, Fall Back

Today is the first day of Spring. Although cold, you can feel the earth starting to get ready for new life. I have always loved this time of year - the warmer days and the chilly nights and the promise of what's to come.

5 years ago, we were busy planning my baby shower. I was looking at my registry every day and I think our "go bag" was packed by now. Our new life was just around the corner. Until it wasn't.

3 years ago, we were busy meeting with a pregnant stranger and learning all we could about her - and her about us - for in a few short weeks, she was going to hand over her infant daughter to us.

It's hard to dwell on the bitter when there is so much sweet.

5 years is a big milestone. It's kindergarten and more freedom and a child who is really not a toddler anymore.

3 years is also a milestone. It's big girl panties and full sentences and laughter...oh so much laughter.

It's hard to wrap our heads around the fact that had Allie not been born still, we would have probably not adopted. We would have been content with our one child or we would have conceived a brother or sister for her. Adoption was never in the cards and thus Miranda would not be ours. But she is ours. So completely. And has been since the day she was born.

Someone asked me recently if I had trouble bonding with her since she did not grow inside of me. Or if I felt I missed out on her growing inside of me. I did not even have to pause. Nope. She is mine 100% and always has been. Allie was the baby I carried and Miranda is the baby I get to raise. 

Yesterday was Miranda's 3rd birthday party. It was such a joyous day and all the kids were smiling from ear to ear. From 1-12, they all gathered to celebrate our special gift. At one point, a bunch of kids that would be about Allie's age were all playing together and my heart skipped in my chest. Allie should be there! How is she not here? I still can't believe it.

And then I turned my head. Miranda was literally bouncing up and down, cheeks flushed, head back, laughing and having the time of her life. This is the life she was meant to have and I would never ever want to take that away from her. My heart went back to it's normal rhythm.

So much of me is moving ahead and yet so much of me still falls back. At 42, I am still learning how to navigate my life and I guess that's ok because once you stop living and learning, what's left?

Happy Spring everyone. To the future...

 

Where's the "Good" in Goodbye?

Where's the "good" in "goodbye"?
Where's the "nice" in "nice try"?

-The Script

After nearly 15 years, we had to say goodbye to our beloved cat this past week. You would think I would be used to goodbyes by now, but death is simply not a concept you ever get used to, as far as I am concerned.

I got Zoe in August 2001 when I was working for WHYY. I brought her home and called her Libby for the first 24 hours because I though Sam & Libby would be so cute together. She hated that name. So I called my mom asked for help (as I still do!). We tossed around the name Chloe (a name my dad actually wanted for me back in the day) and somehow came up with Zoe. It stuck.

When the 9/11 happened, Zoe followed the news ticker on the screen with her paw. She was a source of comfort for me during that time and I clung to her. We survived an apartment, a condo, several boyfriends, lots of parties, and more diets than I can recall. Then I met Gary and she loved him from the start. She moved in with him first. Then I packed up all my stuff and moved in, too. She had such a crush on him that she pretended she forgot about me, but I knew the truth. I was so smitten with him, too, that I allowed her behavior.

When I was pregnant with Allie, Zoe became very protective. She napped on my belly and followed me all around. Allie was named after my grandfather Allen but we also loved that having her name start with an A and Zoe's name starting with a Z had us covered. We had a complete family from A-Z.

Now they are both gone.

Zoe's kidneys started to fail a few weeks ago. Lots of trips to the vet, blood work, and overnight stays all brought us to the same conclusion. It was time.

Gary and I brought her back to the vet one last time. We gave her lots and lots of kisses. We told her we loved her. We help her tight. We asked her to look for Allie when she got to where she was going. We finally said goodbye.

Living without her has been hard. It's strange to not have to feed her as soon as we wake up.  The house seems empty without her napping in the sunlight or bathing in the shade. I miss her face, I miss her purring and I miss her.

We tried to tell Miranda that Zoe no longer lives here. We said she got "kitty cat sick" and had to go to heaven. We did not want to lie about death since it is a concept we are going to have to tackle sooner than most. All she says over and over is that "Zoe is a good girl." When I try to explain that she goes not live here anymore, her face falls and she does a nervous laugh and then pretends she didn't hear me.

How am I not used to death and loss by now?

Her spirit will love on in our memories and our hearts. She had a good life and I have to hope that was enough. I guess it has to be. I think it is.

Rainbow Mama Retreat

I spent the last 24 hours with the most amazing group of women. Women who have walked in my shoes. Women who have cried my tears. Women who have said goodbye to their babies far too soon. Women who carry the burden of sadness, guilt, sorrow, fear, anger and loss.

A rainbow baby does not replace a baby who has died. But as I know firsthand, a rainbow baby truly is a joy unlike any other and our rainbows help heal us in a way that nothing else can.

We met at 3. By 6, the wine was flowing, the sweet tea was being mixed with vodka, the fruit tray was being demolished and the chips and dip were adding just enough salt to accent all the food. Then there were homemade treats that were simply better than any words I can use to describe them. Empanadas with various fillings, rich butter cake, chocolate and peanut butter heaven on a plate.

By 7, the selfie stick came out.

By 8, the pizza delivery guys stopped by and we were all so loaded that we were joking that he was our entertainment for the evening. He was a good sport about it and did not laugh at us too hard.

Then it was 10. 
Then it was midnight.
Then it was 2. 
At 3:30 in the morning, we finally ran out of air in the room and went to bed. 

In that time, between bites of food and swigs of drinks and Jamberry nail demos, we talked. We cried. We laughed. We remembered. Many of us told our stories and our eyes lit up as we talked about the babies we carried for longer than we got to hold in our arms. We talked about our labors and our deliveries and it was safe place to speak. It was freeing, it was liberating, it was cathartic.

Many of our angel babies are close in age. Many of our rainbows are, too. We talked about how to explain death to our living children. It's so hard to explain something that we, as adults, do not understand. We got advice and we gave advice and it was so comforting and calming.

For most of my days, I do not talk about Allie. Miranda knows she has a sister, but we do not talk in too much depth right now for I do not want to scare her. I am now armed with some ideas and suggestions for when she is older and begins to ask questions.

I only slept for 4 hours last night, but it was a sound and peaceful sleep.

We checked out and went to brunch on our way out of town. We could not get enough of each other. It was so great to all be together. I look forward to doing it again soon.

Allie has given me so much. A strength I did now know I had, a passion for life and the knowledge that I must appreciate every single day. Now she has given me this group of friends. I am one lucky mama.

Lost

I spent the better part of this weekend drunk. That is VERY unusual for me.

Friday night was Girls Night Out. A group of us got together from near and far and it was the first time in close to a year that we were all in the same room. We laughed till it hurt. We shared stories. We caught up with each other. It was so nice to reconnect. I felt so good.

Yesterday, we spent the day with some family and for some reason, we started drinking martinis mid-afternoon. Before I knew it, my sister-in-law and I were several sheets to the wind and talking and sharing and just having the best conversations while the kids and dads more or less entertained themselves. I felt so good.

I have felt lost a bit this year so far. 2016 has been the year of the ear infection, the severe cold, the stomach bug, the job that is not a career (but a good job nonetheless!). It has been a year of questioning myself and my choices and I have not felt all that good about some of the choices that I have made.

If the wine and martinis of the last two days reminded me of anything, it is that no matter what goes on around me and no matter what I can control or not control, I am, at my core, still me. No matter what size or haircut or activity or job. I am who I am and I need to really learn to accept me. Others have...so why can't I?

If I am lost, it is because I am choosing to be that way.  There are lifelines all around me. It is up to me to grab them.

This week the temperature is supposed to be warmer. That means I am going to run again. It's time. My hibernation is over.

So much of what I do and who I am is to be a good role model for Miranda. She needs to see her mom making smart choices and choosing happiness over all else. I do not want to lose sight of that.

I struggle. We all struggle. I see the light at the end of the tunnel, though. I see my lifelines. I see my family and I know I want to be there and be a positive force in their lives. I want to no longer be lost. I want to feel good. I know that I can.

Perspective

“What we see depends mainly on what we look for.”

― John Lubbock

Since becoming a mother, my perspective on so many things have changed. Things that used to seem so cut and dry to me are now often more complicated. Things that used to seem to complex and convoluted, now seem simple and obvious. Come to think of it, I am not sure how much of it is motherhood and how much of it is age.

I lived through the OJ Simpson saga. I remember being in college and watching the Bronco chase on the TV in our living room. I remember a professor wheeling in a large TV into our classroom on the day the verdict was read. I studied Communications and English Literature so I doubt it was a History class. I think it was just such a big part of our culture that the teacher wanted to make sure we know that history was in the making.

Twenty years later, I am watching the drama unfold all over again on the new FX mini-series. I am fascinated by it still. This time, though, I do not really care about OJ Simpson. I care about his children. Where were they then? Where are they now? When I was in college, I do not even remember knowing that there were kids involved.

Last week, I watched a new Grey's Anatomy. I am fully aware that this show reached its peak YEARS ago, and yet I can't seem to let it go. Spoiler alert: Meredith was attacked. Spoiler alert: She is fine. Over the course of the episode, though, she was hospitalized for six weeks. Where were her kids? Who took care of them? What did she miss while she was away?

Is that perspective? Or is is that my life so much revolves around my girls that I can't imagine a story or an event or a blip in time without them? I am in the midst of planning Miranda's third birthday party and already anticipating how exciting the event will be. I am also wondering how to celebrate Allie's birthday this year. The year she should be turning five. Five! Kindergarten and sleepovers and school buses and so much more she will never get to experience.

Is it true that "what we see depends mainly on what we look for"? If I want to see the good in people, I do. When I chose to see the not-so-good, I do that as well. Is that perspective? Is it wisdom? Is it neither? Is it both?

I do not have all the answers. I doubt I ever will. I just thought it was interesting that my mind seems to gravitate now towards the children and what I, as a mom, would do in any given situation. I guess it's all a matter of perspective. And maybe the fact that I watch too much TV!

The Power of Friendship

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”
― Helen Keller

 

Long before I was a wife or a mother, I was a friend. I was taught that friends are as valuable as anything else in life and that friendships must be cared for and looked after in a very delicate way.

I cherish my friends and have used this space before to write about some of my strong bonds. My husband and I were friends before we started dating which is one of the reasons I think we work so well.

I have been struggling these past few months. I have been doubting myself more and more and feeling not so great about myself. The fact that we have all been sick for months has not helped. The fact that it's cold and blustery outside has also not helped. But it's more than that.

You see, I lost sight of who I am. I got caught up in my own head. Sometimes that is not the best place for me.

I spend my days at work or with my daughter. We spend our nights with dinner, laundry, cleaning, puzzle making, color book playing and bath time. I am always in a rush and often do not have time for myself till long after dark. Then I turned on Netflix or Amazon Prime and got lost in the characters of Frank Underwood or Jax Teller or Patty Hewes or Oliver Queen or the Crawley family.

That all changed this past week

This past week, I saw some of my friends.

I opened my heart and let my friends in and let them do what they do best - remind me of who I am. One friend was a play date in which our girls finally started to play with each other and not just near each other so we had time to really talk. One friend was up for the night and got to spend time, quality time, with my family and see how we work. We talked till everyone in the house was fast asleep. One friend was lunch at the mall which turned into the entire afternoon of laughing and sharing and chasing our daughters all around the carousel.

The power of friendship is so very strong. My head is clearer than it has been in ages. I am more at peace with myself than I have been in a long time. I am more focused on who I am and who I want to be. THAT will make me a better wife. THAT will make me a better mom.

I will not let it get this bad again. I know now that I need to call in help when I need it. I suspect the joy and happiness I got from my friends was not one-sided. I think they also felt better, too, having spent some time with me. If not, I will make sure they do after we meet up again. I am a people person and that means I need my people!

When you are my friend, you are in it for the long haul. I am proud of that fact and I will not soon forget it again. I adore my friends on the screen - but I like my real friends a whole lot more!