A Deep Sense of Loss

 A few weeks after my last post, in February 2021 one of my best friends died. He passed away after a long COVID battle. He was not on a ventilator, but the disease ravaged his body over the course of three months and then he was gone. Two years later and I am still left with a deep sense of loss.

We met when I was 20 and just starting to live my life as a productive human working a 9-5 on my own. He sat across from me when I moved into a different department and instantly I was hooked. He came from a completely different background but he was smart and funny. He constantly surprised me with the things he said and the things he did. 

We started going to lunch together and we just talked. It turned out we had a similar dark sense of humor one that I didn't share with many people. It had been a rough road for me at times and the residual pain, I shared with him. He shared his with me and we laughed together about our trauma. We found a way to do that and we shared something profound that bonded us. 

He wrote poetry and showed me his work. It was beautiful but sad and sometimes haunting. I always wanted him to publish it or at least submit it but he was reluctant. I started writing too and joked he was my muse. 

Our friendship didn't make sense on the surface. He was someone all the women wanted. I was in a solid serious relationship. He was stylish and handsome. I was fat and cute. At times people thought there was more to it but there wasn't so we didn't care.

Then we started playing Madden together and it was the best part of our friendship That really built the bond that wouldnt break. He taught me all the plays and he was so proud of his protégé. We got to laugh and hang out and drink and eat lasagna from the Italian place up the street. He had very specific dietary preferences but that lasagna always worked out. Sometimes cheesesteaks.

We shared everything. I met some of his friends and family and he met some of mine. He knew Rolston well at that point. There wasn't a story he didn't know about me. I think he knew more about me than anyone ever had or ever will. 

Our story was long, more than 20 years of being there for one another. I was his girl in the suburbs who lived a different life sure but I was also his best friend. He was there for me always. He put out the broom at my wedding. He was there when Brenton was born. He was the godfather to all 3 of my kids. He came when Rolston's mother died and almost got arrested for going 35 in a 25. Bordentown was no joke.

When he was going to propose to his first wife, I met him in the paeking lot at the jewlery store to check out the ring before he did it. I was at the wedding but in the background. You see he was friends with Rolston too, but I didn't get that chance with his women, until I did.

Before his divorce was final, I met Zakiyyah. He asked me to come meet her because he thought I would really like her and he really wanted me to meet her. She was always the one that got away in his eyes. They were together in high school. And he always loved her. I think he died still loving her, but the relationship was long distance amd that was what broke it. There was more to it in the end but that was the core. He couldn't trust it because nothing good could be real. 

I loved her too for the hope she gave him and for who she was as a human. She was exactly what he needed and he was childlike in his rekindled love for her. I got to witness him being himself with her and she was so good to him. I really did think it would last and I was hurt when it didn't but I understood. She and I have remained friends and I shared much of my grief with her.

I was always surprised when he put me in front of people and highlighted our friendship to the world. I never felt like it was a secret but also it shocked me that he really and truly valued me in that way. In my heart I knew how much we meant to each other and that was what mattered.

At his second wedding, he introduced me to his estranged son who he had recently reunited with, as his best friend and although I always claimed him that was the second time he said it out loud to someone new who meant a lot to him but didn't already know me. It didn't even occur to me that less than two years later, he would be gone.

I did always know he would go first. I never doubted that. I just didn't think it would be so soon and after not seeing him for so long. It was COVID and so we hadn't seen each other since his wedding.

Gaps were usual for us and we saw each other less and less over the years. I kept moving farther away, he said. It was not an easy drive he said and Bordentown was not friendly to him and his lead foot. Still every now and then he would come through unexpectedly.

 He did one of his pop in visits and it was close to my birthday. It felt like a present and it was so good to see him. That was the last time we took a picture together. I had no idea at the time it would be a last. I guess that's what people mean when they say cherish the times you have. And I do remember that day and just laughing like no time had passed. 

That is what I miss the most is how we used to just know each other. He just knew me. One time he bought me a gift because I was having a rough time. He said, he just wanted me to know how much I meant to him and to everyone. He said I should know how wonderful I am. 

I still wake up after dreaming about him and think how I want to tell him I had a strange dream about him. I want to tell.him about the kids or even just small things. Most of all I want to tell him how much I miss him and that my life is not at all the same without him. 

He called me the day he died and I didn't answer the phone. I was putting Harper to bed and said, I will call back later. At midnight, his wife called and told me he died. I sobbed. I couldn't speak. I just sobbed and then she hung up. 

I woke Rolston with my sobs and croaked out Akbar died and then he just said oh no over and over. Both of us in disbelief.

We were still in lockdown and the kids were in remote school and the vaccines had just come out but not for us yet. So I went to see him at the viewing amd stood and looked at my best friend who did not looks at all like himself laying in a casket at 43 years old recently re-married with a young son. I was mad at him for leaving me. I felt hollow. I wanted to scream and cry, what am I supposed to do now? How can I do this without you? It is not fair.

Instead, I looked at him and thought about all the times he was there for me and that it was too many for me to recall. Quietly crying in my double masks knowing I couldn't stay for the funeral because I didn't want to get COVID and die too. It hurt. My whole body hurt being there like that and the pain didn't go away. Some of it still remains.

I said my goodbyes to him without seeing anyone because I went so early. As I walked through the doors on my way out I had my head down and some family was arriving. I couldn't acknowledge them in that moment. It was too much for me. So with a gentle nod and a tear soaked masked face, I returned to my car and slathered myself in sanitizer. My hands were stinging and I couldn't catch my breath between the tears. It was so unfair and as he liked to always remind me, life is not fair and it turns out, neither is death.

Each morning I still have to stop myself from going to Google chat to say good morning. I just cannot believe he is really gone. People talk about how they want one last chance to talk to someone or see them and I never understood until now. Not really and not with this depth of emotion. 

A part of me died with him. I will never be quite the same since the moment I knew he was gone. I have so many wishes. I wish most of all I had picked up the phone the day he died and to know what he would have said. Knowing I missed that chance is difficult and haunting. 

All I am left with is our glorious memories. Although they do comfort me and I am grateful for them, mostly I am still stuck in grief. I wonder if that will ever fade or shift. People assured me it will lessen and even a day will arrive that I don't think of him, but I can't imagine it yet even as we approach 2 years.

I loved him so much and I miss him. I am certain I will always miss him. But I was lucky to know him and have the time we did. It hurts because losing someone you love leaves pieces of you missing. For me right now, it still seems insurmountable to feel anything other than that deep sense of loss.

No Longer Confined by Fear

I have always been an anxious person. I remember as a child feeling panic wash over me my blood pumping so hard it sounded like the ocean in my ears. My vision changed as if I was looking into a tunnel and I felt like I was in a dream world or perhaps I was dying.  I was not certain but I knew I was afraid. I turned to my grandmother and asked her to pinch me because I felt like I was not real.  I saw the confusion mixed with fear in her expression and the panic escalated. I pinched my own arm, hard and my breathing began to return to normal.  The shock of the pain released me from my panic prison.  In that moment I was no longer confined by fear.

 

The fear was present and could not be named for quite a long time in my life.  The undercurrents remain.  It stems from being the child of an alcoholic.  There is an uncertainty associated with this family dynamic.  My father at the center and all of us on eggshells not knowing how the evening would progress.  Not every day was the same, but some days were not good and some days were bad. 

 

It was a functional family in our own dysfunction.  I created my own routines and put up walls of protection.  Isolation drove anxiety, but so did openness.  Finding a balance between chaos and control seemed helpful, but it never addressed the underlying causes.  The root of it all was rotten and was eating at the rest of it slowly but steadily and nothing felt right and the fear continued to grow.

 

At 17 we finally all said enough as a family and we were seemingly ready for a change.  We had so much to relearn.  I was a newborn at 17 and I was completely terrified. I should be emerging as an adult, but instead I needed to restructure my sense of everything and the journey was incredibly painful, full of anger and resentment that I had spent so long trying to push down or control.

 

Those early years were so difficult for me as a young adult and I made a plethora of colossal mistakes because I did not know how to navigate the world.  All the time I spent trying to isolate and control did not give me the tools I needed to thrive and so I didn’t thrive.  It took me a very long time to pull up and out of what was familiar while becoming my own person. I was barely making it through each day.  I was still confined by fear and also by guilt.

 

The guilt began to fade after my second full year of college and work.  Still floundering in many ways, but I was doing the work of becoming something different than I was before.  I felt more productive and that felt good even when it was difficult. Still a ball of anxious uncertainly, but I was on my own and I was learning about the world in ways I would later rely on to bolster my self-reliance.

 

So much happened so quickly that it felt like the blink of an eye.  College graduation with high honors. My first real job. Friends and colleagues and so much fun.  It was the fun I should have had in college, but I was too busy growing up and doing the hard things to make it all happen.  It was my time!  I was truly gathering the good and I felt like my career was moving in the right direction. 

 

Then it happened, 2008 financial crisis and it came crashing down on me at first. I still remember September 16 so vividly. The uncertainty came back and so did the panic, but I wasn’t paralyzed by it.  I was more resilient this time. I spent my time with positive people who were ready to face the challenge instead of hiding or running from it.  We went to lunch together, we laughed and we kept going. This was where I started to learning the importance of positivity in dealing with my own stress and letting go of toxicity that pulls me away from success.  The answers were not at my fingertips but they were more within reach than ever.

 

Just before the layoff the deal on my first house came through.  Sometimes I am at my best during a crisis and that is a learned behavior from my childhood that was reinforced by my mother.  This skill has been quite useful in life to be honest and I have gratitude even though it was born from codependence. I threw myself into the project and used the time I had to focus on the house and finding a new job. Many interviews later and after the house renovation was fully completed, I got a job. 

 

Young and confident but wiser and more stable than I had ever been I emerged into my new role. Fake it until you make it was my motto and it worked well for me.  Now more than 10 years, 3 children, a new house and a couple promotions later I am still in that job.  It looks very different than when I started in terms of what I do and the scope of the role, but I am so happy with what I do.

 

Often I say how lucky I am for so many reasons.  I do feel like that time has gone by in a flash and when I look back I see mostly the good things now.  The birth of our children, the milestones shared, the birthdays and holidays celebrated, fun with friends, pool parties, trips to the beach, trips to Disney and everything in between all have given us so much for which to be grateful.

 

There were many hard times too.  The death of my in laws 6 months apart and still at times feeling the depth of those losses.  The seizures that stole my husband’s ability to drive for a year and my sense of security for even longer.  The physical injuries he has suffered over the year that required recuperation and support.  Fertility treatments to conceive our third child. Two of our three children with different special learning needs. Life is challenging there is no question about that at all. Life is far from perfect, but we have more than enough to sustain us.

Honestly I can still say that fear and anxiety is ever present, but so is my awareness of it.  It wasn’t until I really acknowledged that undercurrent was there for me that I could begin to address the ramifications it has on me and those around me. It worsened after 2016 and then when I had my daughter it nearly consumed me.  Then I got help and went on medication that is so vital for me to find balance again.

 

Now after almost a year in quarantine I can say I am coping fairly well.  When I think of all the good things, it brings me joy. The deeper relationship my children have with my parents. Our dear friends who were able to be in our bubble with us. The friendships that have thrived in spite of distance and lack of in person contact. We have all found ways to stay connected and supportive. I started really embracing knitting and that soothes me. I am back to virtual meets with friends. My vaccine appointment is scheduled.  Power was transitioned peacefully to a new administration. Yesterday I watched the first woman, a black woman, become vice president.

 

Today I feel optimistic.  Gratitude for staying safe and healthy during this time abounds. Maybe I will actually hug people soon.  Maybe I will eat in a restaurant with my husband for our anniversary.  Maybe I will make it back to Disney World this year with my BFF and my family.  In the meantime, I will leave my Christmas tree up and my outdoor decorations will change with approaching holidays, but the lights will keep shining. Hope is back again and I am no longer confined by fear.

The In Between

For the past year and a half, I didn't write anything. I thought about what I would write but never did. I felt like time got away from me in ways I couldn't explain. My life was flying by and it wasn't bad it was just busy. It is still busy. I find myself trying to fit so many things into each day.

Whether it's two competing tasks at home or at work or three needy children who require a lot of help, I am always in the middle of doing something. Some days I feel the pull so hard I almost break. Then other days I find myself in between sinking into the love around me that the three kids bring and back again to the breaking point of the demands of it all.

In the in between a dear friend's daughter was diagnosed with cancer. My best friend lost her Poppy to cancer. Another dear friend's husband was diagnosed with glioblastoma. It was a rocky time accepting how precious life can be and how hard it can be to prioritize what is really important.

Can I be sad about a hole in my pool liner when someone has cancer? Am I allowed to feel gratitude for my family being complete when others are struggling to keep theirs together in times of despair. What do I do with all of this and how do I focus on the present? I was swirling. I felt lost and alone. It was overwhelming to manage the day to day not just in the face of the day to day but the bigger questions too.

The friend whose daughter was facing cancer helped me to help my daughter learn to sleep. The best friend who lost her dear Poppy to cancer reminded me of my own strength through hers. Still I felt so uncertain of myself and that I was being a good mother.

I joke with my friends who are mothers about it now but before I became a mother no one really explained that these feelings were common. That these tiny humans could need more at times than I felt capable of giving and put me in a place of being on the verge of tears or screaming with rage. The anger I was experiencing was actually anxiety coming out of my pores. Except, I didnt know it.

During a routine visit with my doctor she asked me a few new questions. My blood pressure was up and again on the verge of tears I explained I was not feeling the best. She inquired about sleep and the new baby I had and the demands of my life. I answered and she also asked about past history of depression and anxiety. I explained when I was younger I dealt with what I termed the darkness. I said but I am not that bad and that I did not feel like I was in that place.

She said kindly that I might not want to wait until I found myself there and to try to catch it in the in between before it overtakes me. She asked me about medication. Options in front of me, I decided to take the pill. She praised my bravery.

That same day I took the 5mg of Lexapro. Below the regular therapeutic dose, but for me it was like flipping a switch. The fear that gripped me melted away. A freedom washed over me that I didn't need to have all the answers in each and every moment. I could let go of the little things because I could finally see them as small.

In the months that followed I was able to be more present without fear and a lot of things fell to the side. I prioritized friendships and time as a family. The things that seemed less important took a backseat. I scheduled our first real family vacation. We spent time with my parents at their new house.

Still life was not fully settled. Emerson was in prek, Brenton in first grade and Harper was a baby. It was a tough year schedule wise since prek was afternoons and Harper was still taking 2 naps and Brentons schedule was very different. It was hard. Work was demanding and although the anxiety was mostly gone I was still learning to manage 3 kids and work with a new manager I might add.

Then Harper turned a year old and I had the princess party for my sweet girl. It was everything I wanted for her amd for myself. It was the pretty pink sparkly day of my dreams. She was walking and saying words and hating cupcakes. The icing was just ok and she didnt love the singing. But she was a whole year old and the day came and went.

Emerson turned 5 less than two months later. He was so proud of himself. He had a glow party at the bounce place just like he wanted and everyone said it was a great party. His best friends were there and all of his "cousins".

Then I was on the road. Nine training sessions in a month and a half. And that began my return to the working traveling mom. Travel was easy now with the lessened anxiety. I enjoyed the time away and even more the returns home. Emerson struggled with my absence the most and my mother filled the gap in between with her presence.

May brought the beginning of summer and the opening of the pool and this time with a new liner. My favorite time of the year. Work continued to be demanding but the time with the kids at home was what I needed as the routine of the year gave way to the start of summer.

The largest intern class and the most diverse ever was here and I was in Charlotte for a whole week to welcome and train them. It was everything about my job that I love. I felt grounded and competent. I wore new clothes and statement necklaces and did things that were out of my comfort zone but still within my wheelhouse.

Then it was back to facilitating one of my favorite training sessions. The feedback was positive and I heard through the grapevine that it was making a difference in day to day work. A goal of mine professionally. I felt immense gratitude for having a job I truly enjoy and that fulfills me.

My friendships were thriving. The ones I truly hold dear. The others fell to the back and some fell away entirely. I told people how much they meant to me openly. I felt good about who I chose and who kept choosing me.

Some choices I made helped me and others still hold me back. I struggle with certain aspects of being a balanced actualized human. I still drink too much wine, eat too much sugar and salt, dont work out and have a shorter fuse than I would like to have. My relationship with my husband is strained but improving. I am working on it all or some of it anyway. Priorities.

All I know is, I no longer feel stuck. I dont feel trapped in the in between. I feel comfortable in the things I do well and I am aware of my opportunities and challenges. I am empowered to work on things I dont do well yet. Best of all the anxiety that once engulfed me entirely has melted away like an early morning snowfall on a spring day.

September has arrived and the boys are in 2nd and K and finally on the same schedule or close enough to normalize our broader lives. My calendar is very full and so is my heart. I have an older son who is beloved, creative and working hard in school and a middle child who is finding his way and is so strong willed, sweet and brave and a toddler who knows exactly what she wants even when we may not. She can even tell Alexa to play baby shark.

It is not all perfect and it is not always everything I imagined but I have so much gratitude for all the wonderful people in my life and especially my beautiful family. In my opinion although I am highly biased, I am the luckiest girl in the world!

Three Months with my Three

Oh how the time does fly. People say that to me all the time and I believe them. Because no time has gone quite so quickly as the last three months with my three.

I am nearing the end of my 14 week maternity leave. I can't believe it's almost over and I go back on Monday. I am not sure I am ready but ready or not here I come. It is time and as the breadwinner I will never get to ask the question if I can stay with them full time. Just like when Harper arrived and suddenly I stopped working now suddenly I will be back working. Transitions can be difficult but necessary.

I remember when she was born there were times when the days melded together into some sort of amalgam. One long day that was a haze of nursing and sleepless nights and naps and daylight and darkness and maybe a few tears. After about a month or six weeks that subsided and the haze lifted somewhat and the new normal began to emerge.

Then there is some sort of routine to it all a routine that will change dramatically on Monday when I return to work. My husband will take the reigns again. I reassure myself that I'm ready for this but something tells me deep down I will miss it in ways I can't fathom yet even though I have done this twice before.

I am a task master. I need to complete daily activities and feel a sense of accomplishment. My job has always given this to me. When I take my maternity leave this fades away. The demands of the child take precedence over my needs. Sometimes honestly I'm left feeling lonely and anxious because I don't have my routine.

At times I created tasks for myself. Clean out a closet donate items to Goodwill. check. Clean up the mud room hang up the coats put the shoes in the bin. Check. Do the laundry fold the clothes put clothes away. Check. But none of this was really taking care of myself in a way that mattered. Still it was self care because for me this made me feel more stable during a very uncertain time.

I love my time with my children. I also love my time working. They challenge me in very different ways. I'm grateful for the lessons that they teach me. The truth is I'm better when I'm busy not burning the candle at both ends but busy.

I want to make the most of this life. I want my kids to see me be successful in all endeavors. And certainly that's not exactly possible but I will give it my all. And I will make time for them. I will make quality time for them.

It's true that with three children it is much harder than it was with one or two to find that quality time in a day. Someone always needs something or wants something. It isn't easy when I have to tell somebody no. I'm getting much better at it and they are probably better for it and so am I.

These last 3 months I've been able to do so many things  that I am not ordinarily able to do.  I take Brenton to school in the morning. I watched him walk into school. I watched him say hello to his friends and his teachers. He asked me to drop him off so he could walk the rest of the way into the building on his own. We read together. We drew pictures together. We played with play dough. We built letter boxes and made sentences. We did our nails with sparkly glittery color street nail strips that made us smile.

I waited for the bus with Emerson. For most of this time it was cold and we had to stay in the car with one another. We danced and listen to music. He really likes the song all the stars from Black Panther. Would I have gotten a chance to know this without this maternity leave? He can almost write his whole name. For month it was just an E and now he is making a near perfect R and traces the alphabet too. He turned 4 and we had a power Rangers/Cars party. We had to teach him how to be gentle with his sister. He didnt need his gate anymore. I put him to bed and he greeted me and sat with me while I pumped milk in the morning.

We went on a family vacation to Cape May. We visited my parents who have moved closer. Twice. My mother turned 70. Rolston and I celebrated 11 years of marriage and he got his first pedicure. We went to breakfast with Harper. We watched comedy specials together and laughed. Hard. We actually talked. We had time to get reacquainted as the people we are now because times have changed and so have we and in the busy times we just dont have the time to stop and ask questions about how we see the world.

Maternity leave is generally about getting to know the newest baby. But in my case it gave me the opportunity to do so many more things with the boys and Rolston too. We all got to know each other better. I took Emerson to the Nature Center we planted plants while Harper slept in her sling. I took them to swim lessons. I watched them become proficient without floatation devices. We played. We watched movies at home and in the actual movie theater. They built me towers out of legos and told me tales of Voltron and Power Rangers and Transformers. They snuggled me and gave me kisses.

Harper grew and grew and was so so loved. From a tiny baby ball of mush into a smiling engaging wonderful happy girl that she is today. Still smelling sweet like babies do but changing almost by the day. I have taken so much joy in shopping for her adorable girly pink and purple clothes and taking her out with me and watching her watch everyone. She coos. She was a champ when she got her 2 month shots. She made me think while I watched her nap when the boys were at school in the morning.

Mornings gave me time to think about so many things. During those naps I thought about who I wanted to be as a mother.  I'm not sure I ever considered that before in a meaningful way. It was a gift.  I will be able to do this more effectively even when I go back to work. I can think about ways to do things better or differently. I thought about what I want for them and how to be there for them. I thought about how I want them to know me and remember their childhood. I thought about how to be my best self for them and even thought about practical everyday needs.

After some struggles with behavior at home we set up a reward system for the boys. They earn stars when they complete certain chores or when they do good deeds. It provides them with a sense of achievement much like how my job does that for me. Instead of spoiling them with the latest toy of their dreams, I make them work for it and it means more to them in the end. So I'm grateful for this time to take a step back and apply some of the things that I've learned.

So this time has probably made me better. Yes it has been a tough transition and the tears were not always just from the kids. But with each tear was a new awareness emerging about myself. I know more about what I need and want.

I can figure out how to move forward through the fog and anxiety. It will not be easy. Raising children is hard. Being a wife is hard. Life itself is hard. It is complex but there is beauty in it all.

I am extremely grateful that I had this time to take that in whether I was always aware of it or not. And some days were squandered by keeping myself surface busy and others taken full advantage of each moment breathing it all in. I will hold these days in my heart and in my memory as the time our family was finally complete and I got to spend three months with my three.

Harper

Early on the morning of February 12 we left for the hospital while it was still dark. Papa and GiGi would get the boys off to school and as usual Aunt Monica would make the trip with us. It was a wonderful day the day we would meet you our early Valentine...our Harper!

We arrived and parked and walked back to maternity triage and checked in. It was a painless process of insurance info and other details. Then it was goodbye for now to Aunt Monica who would patiently wait while I got squared away before the move up to the OR.

There were blood tests and monitors and other things to keep me distracted and the nerves at bay. The nurses chatted with us about you and your brothers. I am not sure how many times I said your name and their names that day but I was feeling so happy. I knew you would be here soon to make our family complete.

We moved to the OR waiting area and Aunt Monica came with us while they wheeled me up. It was good to see her one more time. She is my touchstone and the one who knows everything about me. And she will know everything about you and your brothers too.

A few hugs and kisses and we were in the new waiting area with visits from doctors and signing papers and Daddy put on his scrubs. This was it. We were almost ready. Then after a short walk to the OR they tried and tried to give me the spinal.

It hurt. It hurt on the left and then the right. It burned it was sharp then they had to try again and again. It just wasn't working. I was anxious and afraid. They brought in Caitlin who was there when Brenton was born. She is and always will be my favorite midwife! She made me feel calmer. She made me laugh through the tears.

Finally they brought in someone else to try and a free 2 more tries it was done and they laid me down and Caitlin brought Daddy into the room. Dr. McCullentalked to me and so did Caitlin and told me that it was almost time and they could see you and you had so much hair. Then you emerged and I heard you cry and I cried. They dropped the drape and I saw your beautiful body and your face and I reached for you. I was filled with joy. You were just perfect.

I watched them take you over and Daddy wemt with you while they cleaned you up. They weighed you and checked you and confirmed what I knew...you were perfect. As they finished up and stitched me back together all I wanted was to hold you. We took our first family picture and then Daddy brought you to recovery to wait for me.

You were sleepy and when they laid you on my chest you inched your way to nurse for the first time. You were perfect. Your warm body against me is a feeling I felt with your brothers, but this would be the last time and it was special. That instant bond of love and admiration for my new child. It is truly miraculous how your heart can burst from an overwhelming feeling of love.

Daddy and I talked about how fast you arrived and how happy we were and how grateful we were and I suddenly noticed I could feel my toes. They took vitals and monitored you and we were both doing well. Before I knew it we were moving again.

We got to the room where we would spend the next few days getting to know each other. Aunt Monica held you and cried. She was so happy to meet you. She brought you presents and balloons. We kept telling each other how beautiful you are.

After a few hours and more nursing and more vital checks and more cooing over you your brothers arrived. Emerson was completely taken by you. He loved you with his big Emerson love right from the start. Brenton was a bit nervous being in the hospital but he was also smitten. My heart was so full watching you together. GiGi held you and Poppie held you and everyone was just thrilled to meet you.

It was one of the very best days of my life. Once again I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. It was the day our family became five. The day Brenton was certain we could form Voltron. The day we were filled with happiness and awe for the tiny being that came into our lives and made us complete.  That was you, our one and only Harper!

The Last Baby

In these last few weeks I have been paying special attention to the small things. Even the things that are on the list of undesirable things that no one talks about, and that you yell at your best friend who had a baby first for not telling you abput, are somehow noteworthy. Admittedly I am one of the lucky ones who has good pregnancies with no major nausea or ailments but now this is officially it, my last baby.

As her popping bubbles turned to tickles and flutters and the flutters turned to flicks and pokes and bumps and the bumps turned to waves and rolls and stretches that occasionally stole my breath, now I wonder if I will remember when they are all gone. I love this feeling. The feeling of life is nothing less than amazing.

I remember the first time I had an acute awareness of the inportance of it all. Also my awareness in my role as well. I turned to Rolston and said...hey I am like a host. He said sternly, "Never say that again." It was in that moment I realized how foreign it is to him and how natural it felt to me all at once.

At this point I am still not allowed to refer to myself as a host but he loves to feel the movement of our babies in my belly. He smiles as he speaks muffled sentences of adoration into my stomach. When she kicks his face he smiles and laughs. This is my favorite thing and I realize the moments are limited and so I find ways to initiate these interactions as much as possible.

I sit and try to focus on the movements so I will remember. Even feeling my hips as they seem like they might actually snap in two like a wishbone on that first step after I have been sitting for a bit too long. The heartburn that wakes me. That kicked in the crotch feeling that only a pregnant woman understands. Resting things on the big huge belly and rubbing it for no real reason. These are the moments I cherish.

When Brenton and Emerson ask me about their sister my heart melts. Brenton is smitten and kisses my belly and says goodnight to his sister. He has dubbed February "Harper" month. He also likes to feel her move. Emerson is more hesitant. He has never been on his own always having had Brenton but yet he has also always been the baby. He knows it is different but can't yet say how it will be different and so he is uncertain.

I realized I am also uncertain in some ways because it is a girl and because it has been a few years. I woke up out of sleep in a panic completely confused about if babies can wear hats to sleep. It turns out Google is divided but mostly cotton hats are ok and extremely warm hats should be avoided. Also best worn for naps but not overnight.

Still I worry I have forgotten how to mother a newborn. Will I forget how to nurse her or change her? It is unlikely but the uncertainty remains so I understand Emerson and his hesitancy in many ways.

There are things that are so different from the first time around. With Brenton the nursery was completed and waiting for months. The carseat installed months in advance. Clothes washed and organized in the closet and drawers. Pacifiers and bottles sterilized but only in case of emergency. I was so nervous about becoming a mother.

With Emerson Monica and Rolston installed the carseat at the hospital since he came a bit early. The nursery was done and the clothes were washed but only semiorganized. Pacifiers sterilized and ready for immediate use. I nursed for 18 months with Brenton so I was pretty sure I knew what I was doing. Gel pads and sports bras at the ready. I felt prepared but everything was so different because he was so different.

This time I did the girly pink nursery of my dreams and that was probably the only reason is is nearly done. The carseat is new and still in the box because our old one expired. We are holding off since 3 across is tight and Brenton will be in the back in the van. The clothes are not washed. The pacifiers are not sterilized but thanks to Amazon Prime we have them. I finally got an outfit for coming home and a few options for that hospital photo shoot.

So the truth is I am ready as I can be. But as much as I cannot wait to cuddle and snuggle my sweet girl, I am also not fully ready for this to be the last of the firsts. The last first time I hear those bubbly cries. The last first time I see my husband see the baby. The last first glimpse I have. The last first latch.

I won't miss the c section recovery but it will also be the last. And the last time we bring the boys to meet their new sister in their big brother shirts. I truly cannot wait for them to see her. I can't wait to see them see her. So very many last firsts to come and I will treasure them all.

And so in these last 2 weeks I will hold onto these little moments. I will keep them all close to my heart. The last OB appointment. The last time someone asks how I am feeling and if I am ready for the baby. What will it feel like to walk into the hospital to welcome my third? A girl? How will it be different? How will it be the same? What is coming next? But for now I plan to sit back relax as much as I can and enjoy the last moments of my final pregnancy with my last baby.

IT'S A GIRL!

Almost six weeks ago my life changed forever.  One might think I would not see this moment as life changing but for me it was imprinted on my heart.  After I placed the nurse on speaker phone and she said, so you are sure you want to know the sex and affirmatively responding she said the words I never believed I would ever hear.  “It’s a girl!”

My husband screamed and ran around the house yelling Yes! Yes! like he had won the Super Bowl and I sat quietly smiling in disbelief.  I may have asked if she was sure.  I was in utter shock. It was the only thing I felt was being completely floored because I was absolutely convinced that the baby would be another boy.

Perhaps it was self-preservation.  Certainly there was a part of me that recognized there would be some disappointment if I never had a girl.  After all we were convinced the opposite with the boys.  Still in those first few moments I was afraid to believe it and yet she was.

She!  Finally after being convinced the other two were girls I finally say she and I mean she. The boys would have a baby sister and we called them in and they jumped up and down and shared in the joy with us.

And then it was time to call my mother.  The woman with an only daughter, but somehow with four grandsons would also get her girl.  After calling four times I gave up and called Monica and we squealed like crazy and I just kept saying I can’t believe it while Rolston beamed in the background imagining his new life with a daughter.

One final try to my parents and my mother was shushing me as she answered that they were in a restaurant as I loudly exclaimed “it’s a girl” and she said oh wait what a girl and then told my father it was a girl and then they no longer cared that they were in a restaurant.  My father exclaimed…we are going to have a granddaughter. Later they brought them a special dessert that said “Congrats on your granddaughter”. My mother had begun shopping in her head before dessert even arrived I am sure.

As I continued to let the news wash over me and embrace my new reality I was so grateful and so happy. That isn’t exactly news but I really felt it in those moments.  Believing that dreams come true is hard once you learn that most fairytales are not real.  After waiting a while for this baby I just wanted health the gender question was moot.  But then suddenly it wasn’t and all the things I did not let myself consider came flooding through.

All the pink and frilly princessy princess clothes.  The things I always wanted but could not have.  Oh and the nursery.  The gorgeous pink nursery filled with tiaras and tutus.  It was suddenly a dream come true the things I would get to do and to experience that I never imagined would be possible.

I thoroughly enjoyed decorating the boys nurseries.  A jungle theme for Brenton that suit him perfectly with happy primary colors and woodlands theme for Emerson with the wise old owl watching over him and the sunburst rug that he still has today. But there was something about this one being the last one and because it is for her.

Now at 20 weeks I am halfway there and it will not be much longer until we get to meet her. Constantly I find myself wondering about her. She seems fiesty. Maybe she is like me already. But she will always be uniquely her even if on occasion I do glimpse myself in her.

I have always found myself daydreaming during my pregnancies about what the baby will be like.  I am often wrong and sometimes right.  Mostly I like to think about the future and how happy they will be.  I imagine my daughter playing in the mud wearing her tiara and tutu.  I imagine her rolling her eyes at me if I share a quick story in her preteen years.  I imagine her needing me and trying not to, but me always waiting just in case she wants to talk. I imagine her on her wedding day and when she has her first child.  I imagine her looking at me like I look at my mother now, as a friend and a mother.

Then I think about all the times I won’t be able to be there for her and just hoping that I do right by her.  That I show her how to be strong and self-sufficient.  To be brave and unapologetic and really to be whatever she wants to be on her own terms. I hope for her what I hope for all my kids, that they find their way and that when they need me, I am here.

My dear Harper Elizabeth, I haven’t yet met you, but already I love you deeply.  My have you have all the love and joy and excitement in your life that I have had and more, so much more.  May you know how much happiness you have already brought me even in the weeks before the big moment when I heard the words I will always remember, it’s a girl.