The Same Page

Most men and women tend to show emotion differently; drastically differently in some cases.  We learned this first hand when we lost Jack.  While we were both utterly heartbroken and absolutely devastated, it just looked different for Sean and I.  In some ways that was one of the hardest parts; this boy that I had felt so connected to, for twelve years at that point, I suddenly felt like there was a huge chasm between us.  Though, God love the man, he did agree before we even left the hospital, to go to therapy with me.  I knew we had to figure out a way to work through everything-the lows and darkness that would be coming and find a way to talk about it all, not just tuck it away into a dark corner of our lives-if we were ever going to make it.  And we did; week after week, we talked and vented and struggled through learning to see each other’s point of view and adjust to one another’s coping mechanisms.  One day, even though it had felt like it would never come, we found ourselves at a place that we were ready to try to venture down the baby road again.  And even then, through all nine months and even the days after Carter came, we talked-pulse checking-to make sure we were doing all right with everything.

You see, long before I was pregnant and during and even up until the moments before I delivered this boy, I was terrified.  Scared of what it could look like for me, for us.  We had started to heal, and really live again; what if this little baby boy brought all of the pain and hurt back to the surface?  What if these wounds we’d worked so hard to begin to heal opened back up again?  Could I come through it again, what state would I be left in at the end, and could Sean tolerate me through it again?  These are the things we discussed over and over.  And I have to say, for a man that generally does not emote, Sean was honest and open and had the hard conversations with me over and over again, though it was clear that we were still looking at things from a very different vantage point.    

The moment I heard his loud cries, held that sweet boy in my arms, saw his sister fall in love him, and brought him home-I felt it deep in my bones: I was going to be alright.

I am rapidly approaching the end of my maternity leave and it quite literally hurts my heart to think of leaving this baby.  I don’t want to miss a single second of him.   I could never leave his side and be completely fine with that but then I have all of these scenarios run through my mind, many of which involve him yelling at me to stop smothering him or him living in our basement and so I know what I have to do.   I’ll go back this week on Friday, just for a day to get my feet wet and then we get one more glorious week off together before I return for good.  So, it’s been an incredibly busy two months with lots of firsts.  First Halloween for the little man, Kennedy's first big girl playdate; there have been sleepless nights but more surprisingly restful ones, there have been lots of tears, some of them Carter’s, some of them mine, and many of them Kennedy’s (growing pains for a little girl, no longer the center of attention). 

Photo credit: Amber Hooper Photography

Sean and I had our first baby-free night in a long while.  My parents came over and we headed out to dinner at my favorite spot.  We ate our first uninterrupted, hot meal accompanied by a nice bottle of wine and talked, and laughed.  On the drive home, maybe in part because of the wine and not having drank for almost an entire year, I suddenly felt a little overwhelmed.  So I asked this sweet boy I have loved for the last fourteen years of my life, “How do you think I’m doing?”  And I braced myself; afraid of the honest answer I knew he’d give me.  And he said, “You’re doing great, love, how do YOU think you’re doing?”  I was relieved to hear him say that, more relieved than I can put into words.  I told him I though it was going good, I felt good but then I said, “It all feels so complicated though, like a look at him and I can’t understand how all at once he breaks my heart and...,” and then I could speak anymore, the lump I my throat had overtaken my voice.  It didn’t matter though; he didn’t miss a beat, “heals your soul, right?” And the tears flowed.  Because he was right.  Because he knew the feeling.  Because we were finally on the same page about it all. 

The casualty of a great bottle of wine...

The holidays are rapidly approaching; Thanksgiving up first and there is so much for me to be thankful for.  I’ll save it for next time but for now, wish me luck as I return to the workforce.

Let Me Check Her Calendar...

You know everyone thinks babies are hard work.  While they are no walk in the park, it’s really once they are old enough to start keeping a social calendar of their own is when the action really starts.  I don't know about you people,  but my days are pretty jam-packed and so, to now have to work into them things like hockey practice and dancing school and birthday parties, things have reached an all time high on the chaos scale.  When I see this kiddo smile though, as she asks, “what’s after this nap?” and we run through it all, I suck it up and take it like a mom because it's so worth it. 

Growing up we always had handmade costumes.  My mother would stay up into the wee hours of the morning finishing our costumes the day before we would proudly walk to school hallways for the Halloween parade.  I remember, not so secretly complaining that I wanted one from the store, failing to realize that far more effort and money went into mine and that she would have saved herself some time and exhaustion.  Now, I inherited zero sewing skills and far less patience and so while I never make Kennedy’s costume I scour the web for people that can and delegate that responsibility.  This year I stepped way out of my comfort zone and gave my kid what I always asked for: A mass produced, store bought costume.  A Shimmer & Shine costume to boot-which I learned was a pretty hot-ticket buy this Halloween (but man oh man do I loathe that show).  If only it was as cheap as it looks.  I cringed as I put it on her and it literally crunched but God, was she ever happy and so as I sent her off to her preschool Halloween party, so was I.

We were pretty jazzed up for hokey practice this past week for a few reasons.  One, we did an extra practice skating session last weekend and she was excited to show her coaches how much better she got, using two feet to skate and everything!  Second, we came across a hand-me-down jersey we got from Sean’s  cousin.  She was so excited to wear a really hockey jersey; I was just excited that we were able to cover up the “hooters” part of the autograph that read: Hugs & Hooters –Lee.  The kid looked legit and Sean and I had a good laugh watching her skate away from us! 

After dance this weekend we quickly ran home for a costume change to give Shimmer another go-around for the costumed bowling birthday party she had been invited to, swapping  the wig out for spray painted hair   This was her first invite to a school friend’s party and so I was stressed because, well, I’m me.  Also, when we were getting changed Sean noticed her pet fish, Nemo, died.  We had the thing for almost 2 years and so we’d really become invested in keeping him swimming.  We debated back and forth about telling her versus just buying a lookalike to slip in the tank.  Honestly, I didn’t think she’d be too broken up about it and so we told her.  Boy was I wrong.  Total mom-fail.  I miscalculated, forgetting that death is not an abstract concept to my little one.  But as she cried and cried what really did us in was when she stopped sobbing and just sniffles and said, “well he can be Jack’s fish now, I bet that will make Jackie-boy really happy.”. She and I both got ourselves together in time for the party and she excitedly said hello to the kids from her class while I introduced me and Sean to their parents.  Each time I was met with some version of “oh we hear about Kennedy all the time!” A thousand scenarios ran through my head about what they must hear and that was only intensified when during the pizza break Kennedy brought up the death of the fish to the kids she was sitting with. Really though I was horrified about where the conversation was going to go thankfully it stopped with just poor Nemo’s passing.  The party went on without further incident except for me trying to ensure my kid was not an absolute maniac.  

As that party wrapped up we packed it up and headed on to the next round of fun.  Sean and I planned a grown-up Halloween party for my co-workers and Kennedy was going to stay at my parents house with my nephews and have a birthday party for my dad.  Everyone seemed to have a good time.  I love throwing myself into planning something and an opportunity to sabotage a diet so mission accomplished all around.

“What’s after this nap?”

 School, work, and then trick-or-treating with the neighbors.  

Inhale the chaos, my friends.  Breathe deeply. 

October? Are you there?

The rate at which the last month has flown by seems surreal, like someone might say ‘just kidding! It’s only OCTOBER 1^st!’ And yet, here we are, November 1^st, daylight savings, the calm before the holiday storm.  I try to take it all in but so many times it’s like my vision is blurred and it’s only after things happen that I can pick up on some details.  It’s why I bring my camera with me everywhere anymore since Jack died, if I didn’t I’m not sure what I’d remember of the last year; that’s how fast it’s moved and how distracted I’ve felt.  ‘Fall Back’, it’s how we remember to turn our clocks back an hour, but today when I heard someone say it, I caught myself thinking, “an hour isn’t enough, I need to go back- about 10 months, everything was easier then.”

Some of my girlfriends and I decided to start a book club.  Less because we are strong book enthusiasts and more because we could use another excuse to come together, wine & whine, and enjoy each other outside of work. Mission accomplished.  The book was pretty great too if you’re looking for a read.  

Tuesday was Kennedy’s preschool Halloween party and I couldn’t go.  Parents were asked to bring a peanut free snack.  You want to talk stressful?  I was terrified I would be responsible for sending someone’s kid into anaphylactic shock.  I could have just picked something simple like Halloween Oreos and called it a day but I was trying to assuage my working-mother guilt and was an over achiever (as least as far as I was concerned on a Monday night).  She, of course, didn’t eat anything at the party. Oh well.

Thursday brought us a bit of a sucker punch.  We finally had ourselves, financially and emotionally, enough together to call the cemetery to have the foundation poured and order Jack’s memorial.  When I called, I was told that they we done laying foundations for the season, meaning we wouldn’t be able to have Jack’s done until after the winter, most likely April.  To say I lost it is a complete and total understatement.  I felt like I could vomit.  I called the lovely woman who helped us choose a plot to bury our son only one day after getting home from Philadelphia, crying with us, having only lost her infant nephew days before.  I begged her to help us, and she promised to try her best.  I was a mess, poor Sean was at a loss for what to say or do.  What did we know about a time frame for these things?  We weren’t even 30, we’d never had to do something this important and finite before.  He would be in an unmarked grave for over a year.  Nothing on Christmas, or his first birthday to let people know how loved this baby boy had been and still is.  I felt like we’d failed him.  You see being a parent is a tough enough job; you constantly feel like you suck at the job.  Being a parent to a child that leaves this earth before you do?  It’s damn near impossible because you never get the reinforcement kids give their parents; a mercy gesture to let you know you’re not all bad.  Instead you have to just hope with every fiber of your being that you are doing right by them.  Well someone, somewhere, is looking out for my family, because we got a call from the kind cemetery lady saying that it would be done.  We went the next day, paid what could have been a semester of tuition at college for Jack (well who am kidding, with inflation, in 18 years, maybe half a semester) and attempted to create something beautiful to leave at his special spot.  My heart rested a bit easier that night.

Saturday, we took Kennedy for her first learn-to-skate lesson and it was magic.  She started in total fear, crying and wanting to leave, and left after crossing the ice, bucket free.  It was a proud mama & papa moment for Sean and me.

We made our way to Boston to spend a Beacon Hill Halloween with Jen and Andrew and see their new apartment. Their place is gorgeous; completely envy-inducing and we are so excited to see the finished product, though it did just fine for a picnic of pizza, wine and cupcakes.  The Halloween spectacle was everything promised.  These people know how to get down on the 31^st.  Roads were closed down, homes decked out, full-sized candy bars dispensed; every kids dream.  My kid?  She would pick single tootsie-rolls or dum-dums and barely had half a pail before she got tired and said she’d had enough.  The grown-ups? We wanted to see more and so with our kid on shoulders and solo cups of wine in hand we made our way up and down the festive streets.  I also believe my boy wanted us to know he was with us too when we went to one house with a young man with Down syndrome sitting on the steps with his parents in his costume, happily passed out candy to my little lady.  To see him broke my heart and soothed it all at once, mostly because his parents looked so happy to be watching him enjoy himself, as if they knew just how lucky they were.  We finished out the night with our picnic. Kennedy had a well-balanced dinner of candy and juice (parenting win as far as I was concerned) and passed out the moment her little head hit the pillow.

We wrapped up the trip with some playground fun and said our goodbyes to a place and people we love to visit.

So, another month is gone.  Another month and somehow I’ve found a way to keep moving forward.  If ever I need reminders of how that is happening, two of them are laying an arms-length away from me.  Let’s go Mets!