5-22-13

The death of your baby is certainly not something to celebrate. But it was the day of her birth, too. And it doesn't seem fitting to just go about life like she never happened. So I came home with a cinnamon cake.

***

Now that the newest bump is too big to hide, I've had many well wishers ask if this is my first baby. Is it? I don't think so, but I'm not entirely sure what to say. I mean, I went through the entire delivery process (I wasn't going to get to keep the kid, so I went for the epidural), even if I never got to hear her cry. Does the second child--who was gone from a chromosome defect pretty much right after we realized there was even someone in there--count? Those are the things that go through my mind when I'm silently nodding, Yes, it's my first child. These people are sharing their good wishes; it'd be cruel to bring them down.

***

I hadn't heard that John Legend song "All of Me," until I was pregnant. I don't know if it's the hormones or what, but I cry every time I hear it.

***

My brother has had a tougher past year than we have, if you can believe that. Everything that could go wrong, pretty much did. I try my very best to be supportive, but one time when he got really, really down, I yelled at him instead. There are so many kids out there born with a heart defect that don't make it. And he has had to fight every second of every day, but he got to be a grown man. For him to just roll over after all that would be a slap in the face to all those other kids who never got the opportunity to live.

***

Jon's sisters gave me a necklace to remember Baby with a footprint charm, an emerald pendant and a gold piece stamped "5-22-13." I haven't taken it off since the day I got it.

***

My mother remembered that I had been so sad when my dad let the siding-replacement people cut down the beautiful clematis plant that had grown nearly all the way to the roof on an airplane-cable trellis. She got me the same kind--and made sure we could take it with us if we ever move.

***

 
I shouldn't be pregnant right now. Hell, I shouldn't have been pregnant three times in one calendar year. Instead, I should be sleep deprived, changing my daughter's diapers and watching her roll over. I am terrified that something is going to happen to this baby, too. But at the same time, I'm beyond excited. I can't wait to be sleep deprived. I am dying to watch my child blink, smile or roll over. But I won't forget. I am pretty sure that when the son or daughter growing inside me today (and any future children) even think about giving up, I will remind them how lucky they are to be alive. Their sister never got the chance.

***

Thank you all, for your continued love and support.

cautious, scared, hopeful

One year ago today I walked into work, doubled over in agony, and my water broke all over my cubicle. Two days later I delivered a healthy baby girl--at 17 weeks--way too early for a baby to survive outside the womb. We spread some of her ashes on a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

It's been a year, but that whole experience still seems really fresh. Especially because Jon and I are expecting again. And the timing is a little unsettling: This pregnancy is at nearly 17 weeks and the due date is two days before it was for that first pregnancy, October 30.

The last few months have been kind of rough; nonstop nausea, paranoia, trying to keep it a secret. You know, because there's nothing worse than having to take back good news.

We're taking it one day at a time.

OH the ICE DAMS

How about this winter, eh folks?

I'm getting used to driving at ridiculously slow speeds.

 

I took this photo to show my cousin in Australia who was talking about wanting to see snow. I told her she was welcome to come over anytime of course, but for the full effect, I would let her shovel the driveway.

 

Jon spun out on the way to work after Polar Vortex IV (V? VI? who knows). So I worked from home. He was almost out by putting his mats under his tires, but some Good Samaritans stopped to give him a push.

 It just keeps coming down. 

And melting down.

And forcing water into the house.

 

And puddling up inside my newly painted walls and ceilings.

And ruining my historic framed Chicago-themed decor.

Here is a graphic made that explains how this happened. Basically the previous owners did a crummy job of insulating our attic, so heat from the house melts the snow. Then it rolls down the roof and when it's not over the warmth of the house, it freezes again at the edges of the roof. It's a vicious cycle that has resulted in a almost 12-inch high dam all along the perimeter of our roof. Where water dripped off the roof and froze again on our front steps and back landing, that ice was at least six inches thick (those two spots were where water was forced into the house).

theicedamcompany.com

 At least the icicles are impressive.

We are waiting out the winter before trying to assess/repair the damage. And we are eagerly awaiting the next *surprise* the house has to bring. Ah, home ownership.

google-y eyed

The last few years I have become obsessed with podcasts*. I decided to go back to the first episode of This American Life and listen to them all, in order (I'm currently up to November 2009).

So it was nice to see the interactive Google Doodle today play "love themed" new and old audio clips from This American Life. I even recognized some.

Apparently Ira Glass approached the Google Doodle people with ten clips and they also set up this cute little interactive box-of-chocolate page with longer stories--including an awesome one about Starlee Kine trying to get over a breakup by writing a love song with the help of Phil Collins. That's a TAL top-five story for sure.




Click on the Image to check that out.

Happy Valentine's Day!  We are celebrating by ordering pizza and watching "The Way, Way Back." [really good movie] With my brother.






*I also LOVE Snap Judgement (a little more "urban"?), 60 Minutes (holds up surprisingly well as audio-only) and Under the Influence (marketing is CRAZY). I listen to them when I am trying to fall asleep, taking a walk, cooking/doing dishes, and of course in the car when I don't feel like singing at the top of my lungs or talking on the phone.