Happily Exhausted

To say that this has been a long three weeks would be an extraordinary understatement.  It has been packed to the brim with some, wonderful moments and also some doozies.  So far this fall has been full of family, back to school routines, and the beginning of extracurricular activities.  It brought me to some old friends that made my heart feel full and me feel old.  There has been equal parts snuggles and battles between the little lady and me.  We have been busy to the point of pure exhaustion- I can feel it in my bones- but taking a look back at it, it's all been worth it.

Getting Kennedy back to school has had its challenges.  She loves school, adores her teacher and the routines they have, and can’t wait to see her friends each day she goes.  We are up to three days a week this year, which is great but this mama has always struggled with morning-time-management.  It doesn’t matter how much I get prepped the night before, come morning I am always running around, losing my patience and swearing, mostly in my head but I’m admittedly imperfect and so there is an occasional “$h*t” thrown out here and there.  The complicating factor this year is getting Kennedy ready as I simultaneously stumble through my own routine.  More than that: The kid is insistent on choosing her clothes.  Which is fine, since she picks out everything she owns in the stores for the most part, except that after we choose her outfit the night before, come morning it’s never right.  She doesn’t like the color, the fit, the pattern, you name it.  There are usually tears from one of us while the other one is trying to stand their ground.  I’ll be honest-she usually wins and I threaten things, emptily, like giving away the things she wants to wear over and over, like her Princess Elena tee-shirt.  I'm sure the clothes thing will get easier as she gets older, right?

We’ve started dance too.  So, now we have a dancing hockey player.  We are working on being well rounded.  Kennedy doesn't seem to see much of a difference in the two; she transitions from one to the other seamlessly.  She loves them both and so when I’m exhausted from being out all day by the time hockey practice ends and I’d rather be sleeping in on Saturday morning than watching dance class- it's all beyond worth it when she smiles as she twirls or sticks the landing as she jumps over her hockey stick.

We made a trip down to Long Island for my mother’s best friend’s son, my childhood buddy’s wedding reception.  Time and distance has kept us from seeing each other for years but when he gave me a big’ole bear hug the second I saw him, it was like no time had passed.  Spending time with him, my parents, a few of my siblings, and some family and friends did me good.

 Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

Photo credit: Brianne Wakefield 

The following weekend was a working one for me and so even though it was cut a little short, Sunday was a day filled with fun and family time.  We went antiquing, where it made me laugh to see my little lady tickled by all of the “old stuff,” as she kept shouting out.  After a few good finds we met my sister and her boys at a local Fall park-type-place with all kids of fun!  It was a day filled with fun and laughing, fighting and tears, but as is always the way in my family, we make it work.  Love can be a sticky thing but it's what holds us all together.

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis 

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis

Photo credit: Sara DeSanctis

Monday, September 26th, Sean and I brought over the first donation to the Labor and Delivery Unit’s Bereavement committee at Albany Medical Center on behalf of Jack’s Herd.  The amount of love and outpouring of support has been nothing short of amazing.  To supply the materials to give grieving mommies and daddies the same kinds of things Sean and I cherish so much, all we have of our sweet baby Jack, moved me in a way I can’t put into words.  Part of me sobbed when it was done because in order for it to be used someone else’s life has to come apart, and yet the other part of me felt an overwhelming joy that my baby boy is still able to carve out a place in this world.   You are all helping us do this for him and I love you for it.

The end of one month and the beginning of a new one brought us back down to the Island for another wedding.  It was for my best friend from high school’s little sister.  These are two girls that are in most of the best memories I have from my teenaged years.  My fondest memories are of sitting around their big wooden farm table with them and their mom talking and laughing into the early hours of the morning.  I hadn’t seen any of them since Jack had died and my heart has ached for them all of these months.  There isn’t a good reason for letting so much time go by but I can only explain it as the girl they had known all of these years has just been buried so deep by heartache and life that I didn't know if I fit with them anymore.  Going to the wedding and seeing the beautiful little girl that I loved like my little sister as a gorgeous bride and my best friend standing with her, so proud of her too and their mama calling out my name like I was sixteen back in her kitchen proved my doubts wrong.  If anything, seeing them, hugging them, and more than anything laughing with them showed me that that girl is still in here, and every once in a while, more often than I’ve been, I need to dust her off and let her out for a visit.

So now I sit, snuggled in my bed on a chilly fall afternoon, still slightly hung-over and reminded that I'm not nearly as young as I used to be, I am tired.  But, and this is where it all counts, I am happy.  I haven't felt genuinely happy in a while.  So if it takes a bit of exhaustion to be happy every so often, I’ll pay that price.

 I may just have to throw a three-hour nap in here or there along the way.

Making His Mark

There are certain things, as a parent, you agree to do when you have a child.  Things that is as inherent to being a mom or dad as is waking up in the God-awful hours at night no matter what.  I believe with all of my heart it is a parent’s job to help their children to make their mark on the world, to leave a legacy.  You may not literally help them do so, but maybe you prepare them for it as they are growing up, help them take part in things that make them tick, making sure they know you think they are capable of great things.  And sometimes, you quite literally have to help them leave their mark.  I had always known Jack Holden Doyle would leave his mark on the world.  From the moment we received his Down syndrome diagnosis I felt deep down in my gut that he would do things in the this world to let people know who he was. 

When my baby boy left this world a huge part of the mourning included the knowledge that this beautiful child that we were so ready and thankful for would never have a chance to leave his ripple in the world.  And then the loss felt greater.

You see, we had been preparing and preparing to welcome a special needs child into our lives.  We read books, made phone calls, met with local organizations, made to-do lists for the moment he was born and the months an months moving forward to make sure Jack would get the most out of life from the very beginning.  And then he was gone.  And all of this energy that had been built up preparing for him had nowhere to go.  At times it felt like it would crush me. 

I talked about him, and wrote about him, and shared his pictures and footprints and handprints.  I wanted the world to know him.  I wanted to make sure the world knew he had been here.  Maybe just for a little while, but he was here.

And so last year, before Christmas I told Sean I wanted to start a charity in Jack’s name.  I wanted to try and help make sure his mark was made.  We talked about what we would do and how we would do it and what we would call it.  And after research and paperwork submissions, and resubmission and second resubmissions, Jack’s Herd, Inc. was born.  We decided that we would work to help provide the memories, and keepsakes, but most importantly, the support we received at the hospital in Philadelphia from the nurses and bereavement team, to local families experiencing the loss of a newborn or infant child.  We want to try and make sure that these grieving parents know that when they leave the hospital, should they need support, Jack’s Herd is here for them. 

We’ve met with a nurse from the labor and delivery unit of a local hospital, an amazing woman that pours her heart and soul into making sure that though they will leave with their arms empty, they will have something to hold on to in the long days and nights ahead of them.  We learned of how little they have to work with, due to funding constraints, and were reminded again of how lucky we were to have been at CHOP.  We learned that they’ve lost up to eight newborns in one month and how it was a really awful month for them. We learned how they have to host bake sales to fund materials.  We learned it costs about $30 for a kit to create the gorgeous foot and hand cast molds they give to grieving parents. That doesn’t sound like a lot of money but it sounds like it would take an awful lot of cookies and brownies to pay for one.  It shouldn’t be like that, and now it doesn’t have to be.  And any way we can help them continue to do what they do and give what they provide to families like us, even if it means I’m using my lacking baking skills to lend a hand.

I went home right away and spent hours compiling all of the things we can do for and donate to them.  Figuring out how much money we will need to raise yearly to be able to help them continue giving the beautiful gift they provide to their families. 

And just like that we found somewhere to direct that energy.  A way to show our undying love for Jack still exists and always will, even with the passing of time.  I will make sure our baby boy’s name is known.  I will make sure that the awful loss our family endured and our experience was not just about heartache, but about the love for a boy that just couldn’t stay but will always be with us.  And so now the beggar in me has to come out.  To prevent me from torturing people with burned cookies and flat brownies that taste like nothing, consider joining Jack’s Herd.  Visit our website and join the mailing list so when we hold fundraisers or events, you have to chance to help us help others through my beautiful boy’s name.  Or maybe order a bracelet or necklace from Bravelets, a great organization that donates 10% of each item’s cost back to Jack’s Herd, Inc, for the next gift you have to give.  More than that though, get the word out.  Talk about it.  Talk about him.  Share Jack’s story and help me spread his legacy.  Help me leave my boy’s mark on the world.  He was meant to do big things in this world, help him do that through me.

Simply by reading this, you are part of Jack’s Herd.  And I thank you, from the bottom of my broken heart.

Insert Fear Here.

She’s fearless.  A sentiment used often to describe my baby girl; by me, by her grandparents, my friends.  And for the most part, she is.  I’ve loved that about her-the way she approaches things with boldness in her eyes I can’t really explain.  It makes her seem so free, that there is no hesitation in anything she does.  Except now it scares me. 

She talks to strangers like they are old besties and is far too friendly to people that are friendly towards her.  She had started off a little shy, with me having to coax her into smiling or waving to someone that interacted with her as a baby and young toddler but now I feel like we have to do a 180 and head in the opposite direction with me telling her she absolutely can not talk to strangers, that she should be afraid of people.  I wish there could a middle ground but I'm learning, as with everything involving a four-year-old, no such ground exists.

My cousin and his family came to visit this weekend and we had a great time, leaving all of us exhausted and content.  We visited the annual fair around here and stayed up late, riding rides and filling our bellies with greasy fries covered in cheese, bacon, and served in a paper dog bowl and sugary cotton candy and lemonade.  It was incredibly crowded which made me anxious and on edge, if my eyes went off any of the kids for even a second I panicked.  While the whole traveling fair-scene has always been a bit creepy to me it reached an all time high (or low, really) when I took Kennedy on a ride.  The operator was a man that was overly friendly, talkative, and just gave off an overall creepy vibe.  My little duck, off course, was not picking up on this and was smiling and talking and excitedly joking around, which he seemed to be eating up.  While we entered the ride, I picked her up, strapped her in, and he never came in contact with either one of us.  When we exited the ride Kennedy got confused, thought he was me as we were exiting, and she grabbed onto his shorts.  The look he gave, meant for her but that I intercepted, went right through me.  I felt ill.  Nothing happened. I repeat: NOTHING HAPPENED.  But the dark parts of my mind went right to work and I thought: he easily could have been a pervert, a really bad guy, and he could have hurt her or done something that would have been inappropriate but she made not have even known it had I not been right there with her.  And were there other kids, kids whose parents weren’t right there? I could have vomited. 

And so what did I do?  I went on the next ride with her and I talked to her.  I scared her.  I scared her into understanding that not everyone is a good person; that there are people that could hurt you even though they pretend to be nice and friendly.  She asked the usual questions: How? Why? Who? I had to draw a line in regards to how scared I could make her but I had to make sure she understood as best she could at four.  Was it the best route to take with a little kid?  Who knows but I had to make a decision, a decision that would no longer allow her to feel so free and comfortable in her surroundings and that broke my heart a little.  Yet the fear that I was feeling while seeing how vulnerable a child can be when they are inherently too trusting overrode the joy I felt and feel in regards to her freedom.

Her boundaries need work and it doesn’t help trying to explain to her that some strangers are all right to talk to and others aren’t and as with most parenting lessons I flounder and look to others for a little guidance. As she gets older we will find a balance.  But I will watch her like a hawk for as long as I can get away with it and pray like mad that when I no longer can that her gut will take over and lead her in the right direction, should she ever find herself in a situation that feels off.  I pray she learns that that kind of perceptiveness brings a freedom all of its own.  My hope is that this bit of fear I’ve planted takes hold but does not take over; that she may be a bit more guarded with her smiles until someone has earned them as well as her trust.  I hope she will still dive into situations headfirst but only after she does a quick check to make sure it’s safe.   

A few more shots of the weekend fun…

And now, I sleep.