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Showing posts with label Good days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Good days. Show all posts

Sunday, March 25, 2018

Where I'm Supposed to Be

photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

I’m learning that, in life, everyone will have these moments where they realize that they are exactly where they need to be.  I think it hits us at different times; some really huge moments and then at times where, if you aren't paying close attention, you could miss it altogether.

Two weeks ago was one of those moments for me.  Sean and I, with a lot of help from our wonderful family and friends, saw Jack’s Herd, Inc. host its Second Annual Cocktail Party and Silent Auction.  The build up for this is tremendous, months of planning and phone calls, asking for donation after donation, being shocked and overwhelmed when even more donations than we expected came in; it’s really an amazing process.  But the stress- oh the stress- it builds and I found myself wishing it would just hurry up and get here, not so I could rush it away, but so that I could slow down for a minute and take in everything that has happened since last year for the organization we started to honor the sweet boy that we couldn’t keep.

Putting it all together this year was hard for a lot of reasons.  The main one is a big-eyed, chubby cheeked little man that, though is as un-fussy as they come, makes it hard to do anything else; hard to want to do anything else.   You see, he’s six months already and time is going way too fast and, of this, I am constantly aware.  I already feel like my attention is pulled in so many different directions and I struggle to feel like I am giving enough to any of it, but when it comes to him and his sister, I feel that struggle so much more intensely.  And then I feel guilty, because this is all that Jack gets of us, a party thrown in his name once a year, and so it deserves my full attention.  So what does this all mean for me?  A lot of sleepless nights, a lot of nerve-induced tears, a lot of bickering with Sean and the rest of our board members about what would be best for Jack’s Herd and the event, but it’s this overwhelming sense of love that drove it all forward.  And then it was here. 



So when every single, solitary person you know will be at the same place as you and you’ve planned an adults-only party, what’s a mom to do with her kids?  You ask a friend to drive up from Long Island to help you out!  And what, you may ask, happens when said friend comes down with a big’ole stomach bug?  You beg your baby brother to watch your kids for you.  And what do you do, when said perpetual baby, states, “sure, but I can’t change diapers so…”?  You dress the baby up in his Easter outfit and bring him to a cocktail party. 

After a day of working, and setting up and putting on a pretty awesome rental dress, we were finally on our way, nervously chatting about what we thought the night would bring and be announcing that I scrapped my planned speech and would just wing it.  Needless to say, my stomach hurt and I was regretting the Taco Bell I’d caved and ate out of stress hours earlier.


The venue was beautiful, the auction was amazing and everyone looked great.   And so we stood around and waited.  And once it started it was absolutely incredible.  The turnout was everything I’d hoped for; the smiles on every face made it all worth it.  Sean and I walked to the front of the room to speak and I looked out to tell them what their support this last year did; that they’d helped over sixty grieving families in their worst moments and when I looked up to speak those words, I knew.  I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.  That somehow, these last three years and all of the heartache and healing that went with it had brought me to what I was supposed to do.  And so I opened my heart, wider than I had before in front of everyone, and told them what it all meant for these families, what it meant for mine.  I can’t tell you exactly what I said, though a friend of mine tells me I used the term “shitty consolation prize” which reminds me public speaking is not in my future, but I know my heart felt lighter when it was over.


photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

 
photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography



photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

 photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography



photo credit: Jessica Merrill Photography

And, my God, the support and generosity that was shown that night told me these beautiful people got it.  They understood why what we are trying to do is so important. We surpassed our fundraising goal and expectations.  I spoke with families who had been through something similar and heard about us and decided to be part of it.  I was where I was supposed to be. 


The rest of the days have been filled with thank you letters, and material orders, and attempting to get ourselves organized in our day-to-day life again.  It has been filled with family, and birthday parties for little people we love, and trying solids, and a special night out with my little girl; it has been filled with St. Patty’s Day celebrations-that look much different than they used to, and bridal showers and paint and sips.  It has been busy, and exhausting, and beautiful and it all brought me to where I found myself this morning.













I had the gym waiting for me, and a mound of dishes in the sink, and a pile of thank you notes to handwrite.  But I also had a little girl that came out into the living room after waking up asking to cuddle me, and a husband that was craving pancakes for breakfast, and a baby boy that lets me hold him close and touches my face and kisses his big sister full on the mouth that needed some loving.  And so, again, I stopped for a minute and realized that the rest of it could wait; that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.










Monday, October 23, 2017

Finding the Smile



Things always seem to look a lot different the next time around.  It doesn’t really matter what exactly it is you’re comparing-a movie you watch more than once, a vacation you take, or your experience doing something.  Parenting is no exception.  You think you know what to expect because you’ve been there, done that.  Yeah, no, it doesn’t really work like that.

I feel like a new mom in so many ways. Five years is a long time to be “out of practice” when it comes to a newborn.  I got used to leaving the house sans diaper bag, running out the door quickly and efficiently.  I forgot how sweaty a mama can get trying to gather up all of the things and make it to the car-only to forget about four different things and make four separate trips back inside. I’m finding my rhythm but, man, I’d be lying if I didn’t say some days are exhausting.  And being responsible for more than one tiny, unpredictable human at once is no joke.  We’re making it work though-everyone is starting to find their groove which, in our busy, life is important.



The last few weeks have been full ones.  Doctor appointments for a baby that is growing like a weed, gymnastics, visits from the tooth fairy for not one but TWO lost teeth, ran races (Sean and Kennedy-not me!) and watched two badass mamas run a half marathon in the pouring rain!  On top of that Sean's mom had unexpected open-heart surgery (six bypasses!) but luckily she took it like a champ and did incredibly well.







And then there was the planning and preparing for the little man’s baptism.  We’d decided to baptize him early from the beginning.  Not because I believe in the idea of purgatory but because I figure if this baby boy could be watched over and protected by even just a smidgen more than he already is, we wanted it.  So we’d started planning this while I was still pregnant.  I wanted it to be perfect for so many reasons, the main one being that I needed this to be a happy day.  And it was: the party was at my favorite restaurant with our favorite people, delicious food, and an amazing cake (complete with his name misspelled that I-unknowingly- approved!).












But not matter how many people made the trip to town and how great the party the day before was, the next morning-even with the sun shining bright-there was a cloud hanging over my head.  The baptism day fell on the 18th anniversary of my Papa passing away and also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  As if that wasn’t enough, I couldn't help but think that the last baptism I was present for was Jack’s and it took place in a cold operating room, with me on my back desperately trying not to lose sight of my baby boy that would be leaving me at any moment.  And so I cried; hard.  And I let myself sob while Sean just hugged me.  And then I put my makeup on, dressed the two beautiful children I have with me here on earth and we made our way to church to celebrate this enormous light we now have in our lives.



It was a perfectly imperfect ceremony, complete with a crying baby that had an explosive poop midway through mass, a sweaty mama that was caught giving dagger eyes on camera taken by a five year old (seeing yourself through the eyes of a child is a humbling experience folks!) but it was everything I needed.  To be surrounded by our family and friends, people that were so happy and relieved that we found ourselves here again, was everything.  This boy is so very loved.
















After everyone said their goodbyes we tried to spread some kindness in memory of Jack Holden for Jack's Herd's second annual Random Acts of Kindness Day.  We finished out the day at a candle light ceremony held by the Ohana Foundation and though I felt a sadness in my heart, I felt close to all three of my children.





Seven weeks have gone by and there is so much good in my life.  I am so lucky to have an amazing tribe that checks in on us regularly to see how we are doing.  My baby sleeps pretty damn good (making me feel bad for the us five years ago that were up every hour and didn’t know any better to be upset about that) and he’s a pretty happy (save for thirty hellish minutes every night!), chubby little guy.  His sister loves him in a fierce way that makes me fall in love with her even more in spite of her newly super-charged kindergarten ‘tude.  But even with all that good stuff going on there is still many times where I find myself staring down at this beautiful boy, almost unable to breathe and wondering how on earth we ever survived having to give his big brother back.  How am I still here after that?  How did I hold that baby in my arms and then give him back to a nurse, never to see him again?  Even after having done it, it seems unimaginable to me, especially when I hold this boy close to my heart and feel his little chest rise and fall.  And yet, here we are- still here and moving forward.  Even broken hearts can heal.






And this picture here?  The smile on that girl’s face is the kind of genuine smile that hasn’t shown up in a very long time, and trust me I've been looking for it.   Looking at it breaks my heart a little because I didn’t think I’d ever see her again but when I saw it the relief washed over me; it’s proof that no matter how terrible a turn life can take, and how bumpy and winding the road is, you will find joy again when you keep moving down it; you'll find the smile.