Tomorrow. Not the futuristic tomorrow of infinite possibilities, but the actual tomorrow....May 7th.
It weighs on my heart the moment the calendar turns to May. For me, it's more like April showers bring May sours. May 7th is the day our mother, who loved to live, took her last breath. Her last moments are burned in my mind. I remember needing to leave hospice as fast as I could. She was gone, and I needed to go too. I had no place to go but home, but I needed to get there with urgency. I needed to scream into my pillow and crawl into my turtle shell.
I was alone when I got home and I remember going out back with the dogs and sitting at the patio table. I opened a beer and had scrounged up a stale Marlboro Light that needed smoking at that moment. I will never forget thinking, It is such a beautiful day, and my mom just died. My mom is gone forever. Then as I took another drag, I pictured her looking down on me from the clouds. I imagined just how incredibly disappointed she'd be to see me smoking a cigarette, so I put it out. (The beer, I continued to drink). The tears, they continued as well. The tears haven't stopped yet.
Mom,
Tomorrow is your angel date. I know you are the angel with the biggest smile in Heaven, because your smile lit up earth when you were here. I feel you with me the most at night when I am reading, giggling, and snuggling with Lawson. You should hear her laugh, it is impossible not to smile. She asked the other night, looking at your picture on her wall, "Mommy who's that?" I said, Lawson that is my mommy, that is your GIGI. She said, "yah, mommy." That is all she said, but all I could think was that somehow, someway, she knows you. Does she know you because I am half of you? Does she know you because you visit her in her dreams? I don't know, but I have to believe that. As the date draws near for our son to be born, I have to believe you know him too. I picture you with his twin sister, bouncing her on your knee, holding her to your neck, wrapping her in your wings. I wish I could see you both. I wish you both were here. Nothing about tomorrow is easy for the ones that miss you here on earth. My comfort is that easy is all you have for all of eternity. As always, thank you for teaching me how to be a mommy. Thank you for all of your sacrifices, and thank you for endless love you showered upon us. I use your words as I lay Lawson down every night. She now says them along with me. "You are my gift, my joy, and my treasure, and I love you."
I miss you, I love you, and I will see you in all things beautiful and true.
Love,
Your bayba
Friday, May 6, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
Dancing On Rock Bottom
For every tragedy, I can look back and pinpoint my "rock bottom". In 2009 it was the small in stature, gentle faced doctor that held my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, "I am so sorry, but there was nothing else we could do for your husband." In 2012, I can still feel the grass tickling my ankles as I sit leaning on my sister. I looked at the coffin and thought, "my mom is in there...my mom. My mom is dead." This year, 2015, it was in a public restroom stall. I crouched down, back to the wall, digging my nails into my palms, bawling, and silently screaming toward the ceiling. With my nose bleeding from wiping it so many times with doctor's office tissues and bathroom paper towels, I walked outside to my car. The world was melting around me and I once again was having to say goodbye before I was ready.
These are the events leading up to this year's rock bottom.
Cocktail after happy cocktail was flowing at our September house warming party. We did it! Nick and I bought a house for our family and now our friends and family were over to share in our excitement. Cocktails, happiness, and overwhelming feeling of love led to the "PREGNANT" digital sign on a stick. It was September 23rd and we were thrilled! I was so sick that I couldn't stop joking that I was pregnant with twins. I joked, but I had a feeling and my intuition has always been as good as my mama's, I already knew.
October 20th, my intuition was confirmed at our 8 week appointment. There were two little heart- beating beans, each in their own cozy little sacs. I cried as Nick was as cool as a cucumber. I will never forget him saying, "Wow, so we're going to have a big family." All I could think about was if we would even be able to afford Ramen Noodles and if we could, we'd eat them by candlelight because we wouldn't be able to afford electricity anymore. I stayed completely in shock and freaked out until November 10th when I saw them again on ultrasound. There they were. Little lizard fingers and toes, and alien heads bobbing about. I was in awe, I was in love, and all my fears were gone. We were going to have 3 kids, and it was all going to work itself out.
November 16th at Maternal and Fetal Medicine we had another ultrasound. Baby A was bouncing about and measuring perfect. Baby B, more still, measured about a week behind. The doctor assured us that this could mean something as simple as one is a boy and one is a girl. They drew my blood, chatted with us about my "advanced maternal age" and we were on our way. That intuition I have was telling me I needed to be worried, there was something wrong with Baby B. I was terrified, but there was nothing I could do. I put it in God's hands and tried to think positively.
Monday, November 23rd. A morning rush of parent teacher conferences and then off to Newks with my team. I had a voice mail from the genetic counselor. Why is the genetic counselor calling me? Why does her voice sound like that? Tiffin, try and breathe, call her back.
Riding in the car with Michelle and the genetic counselor gives me the news. One or both of the babies is most likely afflicted with a syndrome called Trisomy 18. This is a lethal syndrome in which the children usually die before being born or only live minutes after birth. Oh dear God, this is not happening. These are my children. I sat passenger side as Michelle held my shaking hand. My next conference was at 1:00 and it was 12:59. The counselor explained to me that to be sure they needed to grow cells and I would need to have an amniocentesis done sooner than later.
I finished out my conferences in a fog. I immediately went home to share the news with Nick. We cried and held each other close. How were we going to deal with this? How would we get through this? How do you come out on the other side of this? Please Lord let this be a mistake.
After a series of diagnostic tests were completed, we got a phone call on Black Friday with the preliminary results. Baby A was a genetically healthy boy, and our Baby B was a girl afflicted with Trisomy 18. They were going to continue to grow the cells to get the complete picture and severity of this particular case. I cried myself to sleep many nights in a row.
The following Tuesday, the Doctor called with the full results. All 3 strands for our baby girl were Trisomy strands. His exact words were, this is a fatal diagnosis. I had no idea that I was still holding out hope that maybe it wouldn't be as severe, but I couldn't stop shaking and crying. A medical professional was telling me my baby was going to die. I had an OB appointment that same day and wept through the entire thing. She found both heartbeats and I cried even harder. She tried her best to comfort me and reassure me with words of joy for our healthy baby, but nothing was making this news any easier. When I was able to make my way out the doctor's office doors, I plunged into the bathroom, landing in the first stall and unleashing cries that only a mother growing children in her womb can understand. Why, God? Why have I had to ask you WHY so many times in my life? I don't understand Your plan, and I don't like it either. I am angry with You, and I am hurt. I am down as far as I can go. I am laying here praying to You from rock bottom.
Nick and I said goodbye to our unborn daughter on the angel date of December 11, 2015. On that very day, Lawson came home from daycare with a huge smile on her face, as she always does. She hugged me and tugged at my hands for me to "get up, Mommy" from the couch. When I stood with her precious little hand in mine she walked us to the middle of the floor with that huge grin and wiggled, "dance, dance, dance, mommy". We spun and hugged and her smile was contagious.
Her and I danced that night on rock bottom instead of laying there flat. I danced to the beat of my many blessings, the most precious being her smile and touch in that very moment. I spun her around with our cheeks pressed together, just like my mom did with me so many year ago. The tears ran silently off my nose.
Lawson and I stopped dancing, I shared a kiss with my amazing, supportive, calming, and wonderful husband, and we all had one of L's favorite "family" hugs. She reminded me that night that you can dance at any time, and on any surface....especially rock.
These are the events leading up to this year's rock bottom.
Cocktail after happy cocktail was flowing at our September house warming party. We did it! Nick and I bought a house for our family and now our friends and family were over to share in our excitement. Cocktails, happiness, and overwhelming feeling of love led to the "PREGNANT" digital sign on a stick. It was September 23rd and we were thrilled! I was so sick that I couldn't stop joking that I was pregnant with twins. I joked, but I had a feeling and my intuition has always been as good as my mama's, I already knew.
October 20th, my intuition was confirmed at our 8 week appointment. There were two little heart- beating beans, each in their own cozy little sacs. I cried as Nick was as cool as a cucumber. I will never forget him saying, "Wow, so we're going to have a big family." All I could think about was if we would even be able to afford Ramen Noodles and if we could, we'd eat them by candlelight because we wouldn't be able to afford electricity anymore. I stayed completely in shock and freaked out until November 10th when I saw them again on ultrasound. There they were. Little lizard fingers and toes, and alien heads bobbing about. I was in awe, I was in love, and all my fears were gone. We were going to have 3 kids, and it was all going to work itself out.
November 16th at Maternal and Fetal Medicine we had another ultrasound. Baby A was bouncing about and measuring perfect. Baby B, more still, measured about a week behind. The doctor assured us that this could mean something as simple as one is a boy and one is a girl. They drew my blood, chatted with us about my "advanced maternal age" and we were on our way. That intuition I have was telling me I needed to be worried, there was something wrong with Baby B. I was terrified, but there was nothing I could do. I put it in God's hands and tried to think positively.
Monday, November 23rd. A morning rush of parent teacher conferences and then off to Newks with my team. I had a voice mail from the genetic counselor. Why is the genetic counselor calling me? Why does her voice sound like that? Tiffin, try and breathe, call her back.
Riding in the car with Michelle and the genetic counselor gives me the news. One or both of the babies is most likely afflicted with a syndrome called Trisomy 18. This is a lethal syndrome in which the children usually die before being born or only live minutes after birth. Oh dear God, this is not happening. These are my children. I sat passenger side as Michelle held my shaking hand. My next conference was at 1:00 and it was 12:59. The counselor explained to me that to be sure they needed to grow cells and I would need to have an amniocentesis done sooner than later.
I finished out my conferences in a fog. I immediately went home to share the news with Nick. We cried and held each other close. How were we going to deal with this? How would we get through this? How do you come out on the other side of this? Please Lord let this be a mistake.
After a series of diagnostic tests were completed, we got a phone call on Black Friday with the preliminary results. Baby A was a genetically healthy boy, and our Baby B was a girl afflicted with Trisomy 18. They were going to continue to grow the cells to get the complete picture and severity of this particular case. I cried myself to sleep many nights in a row.
The following Tuesday, the Doctor called with the full results. All 3 strands for our baby girl were Trisomy strands. His exact words were, this is a fatal diagnosis. I had no idea that I was still holding out hope that maybe it wouldn't be as severe, but I couldn't stop shaking and crying. A medical professional was telling me my baby was going to die. I had an OB appointment that same day and wept through the entire thing. She found both heartbeats and I cried even harder. She tried her best to comfort me and reassure me with words of joy for our healthy baby, but nothing was making this news any easier. When I was able to make my way out the doctor's office doors, I plunged into the bathroom, landing in the first stall and unleashing cries that only a mother growing children in her womb can understand. Why, God? Why have I had to ask you WHY so many times in my life? I don't understand Your plan, and I don't like it either. I am angry with You, and I am hurt. I am down as far as I can go. I am laying here praying to You from rock bottom.
Nick and I said goodbye to our unborn daughter on the angel date of December 11, 2015. On that very day, Lawson came home from daycare with a huge smile on her face, as she always does. She hugged me and tugged at my hands for me to "get up, Mommy" from the couch. When I stood with her precious little hand in mine she walked us to the middle of the floor with that huge grin and wiggled, "dance, dance, dance, mommy". We spun and hugged and her smile was contagious.
Her and I danced that night on rock bottom instead of laying there flat. I danced to the beat of my many blessings, the most precious being her smile and touch in that very moment. I spun her around with our cheeks pressed together, just like my mom did with me so many year ago. The tears ran silently off my nose.
Lawson and I stopped dancing, I shared a kiss with my amazing, supportive, calming, and wonderful husband, and we all had one of L's favorite "family" hugs. She reminded me that night that you can dance at any time, and on any surface....especially rock.
Monday, March 30, 2015
Just how much I love you
This might sound like rambling and complete nonsense. I am not even sure if I can explain in words what I actually felt, but here goes:
I put Lawson down at 7 and she cried for 30 minutes. Her molars are coming in and that poor girl is miserable. I finally caved and went upstairs to hold her. As soon as I picked her up, she buried her snot covered, wet face into my neck (not before giving me a good swipe of boogies over my cheek). I gently sat down on the glider and started to rock as I've done a million times since she's been born. She was fast asleep in seconds as I held on to her with all of my might wishing her to stay the baby I can rock forever. Normally this is the point, as I am holding my greatest treasure, that I look at my mom's picture on the shelf in L's room and well up with tears still in disbelief that she's missed all of this.
Before I even looked at the picture, I saw my mom. I was completely daydreaming (ok, eve-dreaming) but I saw her in the chair where I was sitting rocking Lawson. Then I realized she wasn't rocking Lawson, she was rocking me. She was holding me in the exact same way that I was holding Lawson. One arm under my bottom supporting me, my head in the nook of the left side of her neck, and her other arm wrapped tight around my middle. Then in a second and only for a moment, I was my mom. I felt every hug she ever gave me. I felt that feeling she must have had as she held Jaime and I...never wanting us to not be her babies. There was a surge of love racing through me and into Lawson. I had to lay L back in her crib before I was the one snotting all over her.
When Lawson giggles, when she claps, when she does just about anything, there is always that moment when I think, "why isn't she here for this", "mom would love to see this".
Even though I know those feelings will always surface, tonight I kind of feel like she was there for this. Even if "this" was a little glider time with my teething booger-plum-fairy, she was there. In my heart? Looking down from the clouds? Actually there? I don't know, but she was there, and she's here in every one of these falling tears.
There was never a moment in my life that I ever doubted the love my mother had for me. She glowed love for us. Every night at bedtime I say a mantra to Lawson: You are going to be strong, and wise, kind, and just, loyal, confident, and full of faith. I then tell her she is my gift and my treasure (words stolen from my mom) and that she will never not know just how much I love her.
I put Lawson down at 7 and she cried for 30 minutes. Her molars are coming in and that poor girl is miserable. I finally caved and went upstairs to hold her. As soon as I picked her up, she buried her snot covered, wet face into my neck (not before giving me a good swipe of boogies over my cheek). I gently sat down on the glider and started to rock as I've done a million times since she's been born. She was fast asleep in seconds as I held on to her with all of my might wishing her to stay the baby I can rock forever. Normally this is the point, as I am holding my greatest treasure, that I look at my mom's picture on the shelf in L's room and well up with tears still in disbelief that she's missed all of this.
Before I even looked at the picture, I saw my mom. I was completely daydreaming (ok, eve-dreaming) but I saw her in the chair where I was sitting rocking Lawson. Then I realized she wasn't rocking Lawson, she was rocking me. She was holding me in the exact same way that I was holding Lawson. One arm under my bottom supporting me, my head in the nook of the left side of her neck, and her other arm wrapped tight around my middle. Then in a second and only for a moment, I was my mom. I felt every hug she ever gave me. I felt that feeling she must have had as she held Jaime and I...never wanting us to not be her babies. There was a surge of love racing through me and into Lawson. I had to lay L back in her crib before I was the one snotting all over her.
When Lawson giggles, when she claps, when she does just about anything, there is always that moment when I think, "why isn't she here for this", "mom would love to see this".
Even though I know those feelings will always surface, tonight I kind of feel like she was there for this. Even if "this" was a little glider time with my teething booger-plum-fairy, she was there. In my heart? Looking down from the clouds? Actually there? I don't know, but she was there, and she's here in every one of these falling tears.
There was never a moment in my life that I ever doubted the love my mother had for me. She glowed love for us. Every night at bedtime I say a mantra to Lawson: You are going to be strong, and wise, kind, and just, loyal, confident, and full of faith. I then tell her she is my gift and my treasure (words stolen from my mom) and that she will never not know just how much I love her.
Thursday, December 18, 2014
December Again
December. It comes around once a year. Here we are in the thick of it and I seem to be spending more and more time with the ghost of Christmas past. During Christmases in the mid 2000's I would easily be annoyed by Christmas music, hated parking lots, was often grumpy, never had enough money, never had enough time...and never knew just how good I actually had it. Christmas 2009 I was a different kind of monster. I spent entirely too much money on mismatched decorations that made our house look like a Christmas thrift store. Dan and I had done "black Friday" and were super excited to "give" each other our new ipods, computers, and I am pretty sure that's the year we decided that we needed a Tivo in every room. We would spend the day at Mom's smelling and sipping sweet apple cider, eating more than our fill, and (for me) finally taking time to slow down and realize my many gifts. 6 days later, just 6 days.
Skip to 2012. Nick and I didn't put up a tree because we are both a tad obsessed with things being neat and tidy and we didn't feel like rearranging the house to accommodate decorations and such. We did however decide to buy out Party City on New Years decorations for a celebration of the year and our many gifts (now that I know better than to take a single breath for granted). My friends and family were extremely supportive of us having a "celebration" on a day that is perpetually stained. I've looked at the pictures from that night with such fondness. My mom was stunning (as usual) in her black dress and heals. Chris, dapper in his tux. That would be the last time my mom ever stood in my home.
Last Friday I stepped out of the house and had to stop in my tracks. That smell. I know it every December and it never fails to surprise me even though I know it's coming. The smell of New Years Eve 2009. I can't describe the smell, but I can't ever ignore it either. I cried on the way to daycare, talking to Lawson through my tears. "Mommy's not sad about you my sweet, mommy just has memories that are so hard to revisit sometimes that they don't even seem real." "Memories that feel like they were in another life that your mommy lived eons ago." I guess in many ways, they were in another life.
Last Sunday I stepped foot in the home that my mom and Chris so happily shared for the last time. Walking in that empty house sliced me directly through my heart. I turned right and I heard her, "I'm down here bayba". My ears could actually hear those words but anyone else standing there would only have heard my tears hit the hardwood like nails. As I trudged through her seasonal decorations I had to stop periodically to sob. I then had a full blown one way, out loud conversation with her. "I know it's just stuff, mom, but it's your stuff and you loved it."
The tears didn't stop as I climbed into my car to leave. I sat there momentarily pulling it together with deep breaths and a rear view mirror pep talk. A blue jay, wouldn't you know it? He landed on my hood, he looked right at me! I know no one would believe me so I fumbled for my phone to take a picture, away he flew toward the deck my mom and I shared so many cups of coffee on. I laughed out loud and said, "Dan, stop being so vain, I was crying over my mom." His cheeky smile filled my mind and it was okay again. My mom and I had shared a conversation, and he and I just shared a smile.
It's December 2014. 7 days until Christmas 2014. Nick and I have a daughter! A beautiful, sweet, inspiring, barrel of laughs, joyful, precious, treasured, my mother's namesake, 11 month old daughter!! My amazing husband decorated our house and I get to watch white tree lights sparkle in both of their eyes every evening. I love my little family. I love them so much it actually hurts at times. L.O.V.E. what a tiny little word to encompass such great emotion.
Even though I have allowed the ghost of past Decembers place a tear or two in my eyes, that ghost shall not haunt me.
This December, this year, this life, I am thankful for my angels. The ones here on Earth and the ones cheering me on from their castles on a cloud.
Skip to 2012. Nick and I didn't put up a tree because we are both a tad obsessed with things being neat and tidy and we didn't feel like rearranging the house to accommodate decorations and such. We did however decide to buy out Party City on New Years decorations for a celebration of the year and our many gifts (now that I know better than to take a single breath for granted). My friends and family were extremely supportive of us having a "celebration" on a day that is perpetually stained. I've looked at the pictures from that night with such fondness. My mom was stunning (as usual) in her black dress and heals. Chris, dapper in his tux. That would be the last time my mom ever stood in my home.
Last Friday I stepped out of the house and had to stop in my tracks. That smell. I know it every December and it never fails to surprise me even though I know it's coming. The smell of New Years Eve 2009. I can't describe the smell, but I can't ever ignore it either. I cried on the way to daycare, talking to Lawson through my tears. "Mommy's not sad about you my sweet, mommy just has memories that are so hard to revisit sometimes that they don't even seem real." "Memories that feel like they were in another life that your mommy lived eons ago." I guess in many ways, they were in another life.
Last Sunday I stepped foot in the home that my mom and Chris so happily shared for the last time. Walking in that empty house sliced me directly through my heart. I turned right and I heard her, "I'm down here bayba". My ears could actually hear those words but anyone else standing there would only have heard my tears hit the hardwood like nails. As I trudged through her seasonal decorations I had to stop periodically to sob. I then had a full blown one way, out loud conversation with her. "I know it's just stuff, mom, but it's your stuff and you loved it."
The tears didn't stop as I climbed into my car to leave. I sat there momentarily pulling it together with deep breaths and a rear view mirror pep talk. A blue jay, wouldn't you know it? He landed on my hood, he looked right at me! I know no one would believe me so I fumbled for my phone to take a picture, away he flew toward the deck my mom and I shared so many cups of coffee on. I laughed out loud and said, "Dan, stop being so vain, I was crying over my mom." His cheeky smile filled my mind and it was okay again. My mom and I had shared a conversation, and he and I just shared a smile.
It's December 2014. 7 days until Christmas 2014. Nick and I have a daughter! A beautiful, sweet, inspiring, barrel of laughs, joyful, precious, treasured, my mother's namesake, 11 month old daughter!! My amazing husband decorated our house and I get to watch white tree lights sparkle in both of their eyes every evening. I love my little family. I love them so much it actually hurts at times. L.O.V.E. what a tiny little word to encompass such great emotion.
Even though I have allowed the ghost of past Decembers place a tear or two in my eyes, that ghost shall not haunt me.
This December, this year, this life, I am thankful for my angels. The ones here on Earth and the ones cheering me on from their castles on a cloud.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
New
So many things are new. I should start by coming up with a new name for my blog. Maybe: The Winding Road of a (NOT SO) Young Motherless Mother, Loving Wife, Daughter, Sister, and Friend, Who used to be a Widow. Too much? Well, it would be nearly impossible to encompass my life in a title, maybe I should just call it, Me.
Here are some of the things that are new with ME:
The passing of time: In my teens I would lie about being older. In my early twenties I stayed the same age for years. That age was 21 and I drank like it was birthday every weekend. In my late twenties I counted the days until happily ever after. At 29, time was referred to as "When Dan was alive, and after Dan died." At 31, it was, "Since I've met Nick." And after May 7, 2012 it's been, "Since Mom's been gone." I'd like to capture the events that have taken place, Since Mom's been gone:
Normal: My new normal for time is how long it's been since feedings and diaper changes. My new normal is daily panic attacks worrying that she will stop breathing, I will drop her, I'm not a good enough mommy. Googling little symptoms and convincing myself Lawson has all things that could be wrong. Nick talking sense into me. Jaims being my biggest cheerleader. Normal is clapping and whooping in celebration because Lawson just cut the biggest toot after screaming in gas pain for 25 minutes. Normal is 2 pots of coffee before noon. Normal is driving like a school zone on the highway. Sucking boogers is not only normal but a daily highlight. Peeing with a baby on your lap, every other day showers, pajamas, slippers, bad breath, one handed cooking, cleaning, and eating are also all normal. Dr. Seuss, peek-a-boo, baby Einstein, and maybe catching Jeopardy are the daily mental exercises. Laying down at night in bed and having the feeling of being on a boat because you've rocked baby all...day....long. Plucking dog hair out of Lawson's mouth, a permanent white smelly stream down my back, the over use of, "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh", catching up with friends via text because you wouldn't be able to hear them over the crying are the new normal. Over sharing Lawson updates on FB. Calling my sister or texting Sputty, Cara, and Kymmy with random baby questions, appreciating their patience with me. Playing games like "brush the cradle cap out of Lawson's hair before she cries" and Lawson always winning is normal. One sided conversations with completely normal sentences such as: "Does baby waby need a diapy change?, "Momma lovies her little caterpillar", "Little lovey needs to go snoozies", and "Push those poopies out bayba" as well as singing all other sentences to any tune you can think of just to keep their attention. Insert any Adele melody: "Mommy's making coffee, yes she is, if you let me set you down I might eat some cereal tooooooo, if you don't I will just stick to the granola bars for the tenth time this weeeek, my sweeeeeeet..." Saying (in your head) as your pits are sweating and your nerves are shot from sustained decibel level 10 crying, "Where did I set that mother f*cking pacifier!!??!!" Getting out of the house in less than an hour = NOT normal... A MIRACLE!!! Getting pleasure from sniffing her head, judging if it's bath time by sniffing the folds in her neck, and bath time being as exciting as going out used to be is all very normal. Choosing sleep over a shower, an errand, exercise or a meal EVERY time. Cagle exercises and Lawson lifts are the daily workout. Marking the 16th of every month on my calendar and saying, "I can't believe she'll be a month!! And today saying, "I can't believe she'll be 2 months old on Sunday!!" is the best normal. Falling in love with Nick all over again every day as I watch him cuddle, kiss, and melt in our daughter's hands. The feeling that my heart might actually burst with love for my family is my favorite normal of all.
And now for a little comedic relief, my new:
BODY: So my body was far from perfect pre-pregnancy but it wasn't awful. I liked my butt, my legs were muscular enough from running and my stomach was nothing a good pair of Spanx couldn't hide. During pregnancy things happened to my body that I never even knew were possible. There was actually a quote from the doctor during one of my exams that said, "I've seen worse", I won't elaborate. Today, my ass falls into the category of mom butt. My linear negra neva got the memo that I'm not pregnant anymore. My right boob is considerably larger than the left because it produces, as Nick calls it, way more super juice. Lawson has sucked the color off my nipples and all my moles have grown (wtf?). My bunions have doubled in size and tripled in pain. My eyelashes are thinner and shorter as my pit and leg hair is longer and thicker. My skin is whiter as the bags under my eyes are blacker. My crows feet and laugh lines are in constant competition. The skin on my stomach....enough said. My roots are so long and dark it's almost like I am reverse "block coloring" as a new style...maybe it will catch on. With all the things that are wrong with my body, I look at it in pride. This body bore a tiny human, this body provides nourishment for my child, and this body holds my family tight every night. I'm in awe at what this body did and I thank God every day for giving me that miracle.
My new time, my new normal, my new body are all my new reality. Besides doing all of this without my mom, I wouldn't have it any other way. In Lilly's words as she laid eyes on Lawson for the first time, "It's a dream come true."
Disclaimer- It has taken weeks write this between naps, Mike, you inspired me to finish and I highly recommend doing it! 75% of this was typed with one baby free hand so no punctual or grammatical judging. And as always, thanks for traveling with me.
Here are some of the things that are new with ME:
The passing of time: In my teens I would lie about being older. In my early twenties I stayed the same age for years. That age was 21 and I drank like it was birthday every weekend. In my late twenties I counted the days until happily ever after. At 29, time was referred to as "When Dan was alive, and after Dan died." At 31, it was, "Since I've met Nick." And after May 7, 2012 it's been, "Since Mom's been gone." I'd like to capture the events that have taken place, Since Mom's been gone:
- January 26, 2013: Nick and I get married!!!
- February 8th: I turn 33 without my Mom's voice singing, "Hey Tiffin, It's your birthday, I'm in charge of the stars and I'm here to say, Hey Tiffin...It's your birthday....Today."
- March: Living in honeymoon bliss, so happy in love.
- April: I complete my Capstone Project for Loyola. I'm finished with grad school!!
- May 7th: I can't believe it's been a year.
- May 18th: Wake up in the morning, FIND OUT WE ARE PREGNANT AND walked across the stage with a Master's Degree in Curriculum and Instruction. These all take place without Mom.
- June: Roman has his 2nd birthday, his first birthday without GiGi. Bud endures a birthday without the love of his life.
- July 8th: No birthday song for Jaim either.
- August, September, October: Pregnancy misery. Mom was probably celebrating the fact she wasn't around for that, lololol. My poor friends and family.
- November: A baby shower for the ages!!! Once Again my sister assumes her role as mom, best friend, and sister. I was so emotional this day. I missed mom so much, I was nostalgic remembering the days, weeks, and months after Dan died grieving the fact my life was over, I'd never fall in love again, and I would never have kids. Boy was I wrong. A princess birthday for sweet Lilly, her GiGi watching from the stars. Thanksgiving: Our time to give thanks for the legacy left behind.
- December: Celebrating the birth of Christ and all in which we base our faith. Mom is eating with the angels this year.
- January 16, 2014 9:01 pm: Lawson Kay Smith makes her appearance into this world!!
Normal: My new normal for time is how long it's been since feedings and diaper changes. My new normal is daily panic attacks worrying that she will stop breathing, I will drop her, I'm not a good enough mommy. Googling little symptoms and convincing myself Lawson has all things that could be wrong. Nick talking sense into me. Jaims being my biggest cheerleader. Normal is clapping and whooping in celebration because Lawson just cut the biggest toot after screaming in gas pain for 25 minutes. Normal is 2 pots of coffee before noon. Normal is driving like a school zone on the highway. Sucking boogers is not only normal but a daily highlight. Peeing with a baby on your lap, every other day showers, pajamas, slippers, bad breath, one handed cooking, cleaning, and eating are also all normal. Dr. Seuss, peek-a-boo, baby Einstein, and maybe catching Jeopardy are the daily mental exercises. Laying down at night in bed and having the feeling of being on a boat because you've rocked baby all...day....long. Plucking dog hair out of Lawson's mouth, a permanent white smelly stream down my back, the over use of, "shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh", catching up with friends via text because you wouldn't be able to hear them over the crying are the new normal. Over sharing Lawson updates on FB. Calling my sister or texting Sputty, Cara, and Kymmy with random baby questions, appreciating their patience with me. Playing games like "brush the cradle cap out of Lawson's hair before she cries" and Lawson always winning is normal. One sided conversations with completely normal sentences such as: "Does baby waby need a diapy change?, "Momma lovies her little caterpillar", "Little lovey needs to go snoozies", and "Push those poopies out bayba" as well as singing all other sentences to any tune you can think of just to keep their attention. Insert any Adele melody: "Mommy's making coffee, yes she is, if you let me set you down I might eat some cereal tooooooo, if you don't I will just stick to the granola bars for the tenth time this weeeek, my sweeeeeeet..." Saying (in your head) as your pits are sweating and your nerves are shot from sustained decibel level 10 crying, "Where did I set that mother f*cking pacifier!!??!!" Getting out of the house in less than an hour = NOT normal... A MIRACLE!!! Getting pleasure from sniffing her head, judging if it's bath time by sniffing the folds in her neck, and bath time being as exciting as going out used to be is all very normal. Choosing sleep over a shower, an errand, exercise or a meal EVERY time. Cagle exercises and Lawson lifts are the daily workout. Marking the 16th of every month on my calendar and saying, "I can't believe she'll be a month!! And today saying, "I can't believe she'll be 2 months old on Sunday!!" is the best normal. Falling in love with Nick all over again every day as I watch him cuddle, kiss, and melt in our daughter's hands. The feeling that my heart might actually burst with love for my family is my favorite normal of all.
And now for a little comedic relief, my new:
BODY: So my body was far from perfect pre-pregnancy but it wasn't awful. I liked my butt, my legs were muscular enough from running and my stomach was nothing a good pair of Spanx couldn't hide. During pregnancy things happened to my body that I never even knew were possible. There was actually a quote from the doctor during one of my exams that said, "I've seen worse", I won't elaborate. Today, my ass falls into the category of mom butt. My linear negra neva got the memo that I'm not pregnant anymore. My right boob is considerably larger than the left because it produces, as Nick calls it, way more super juice. Lawson has sucked the color off my nipples and all my moles have grown (wtf?). My bunions have doubled in size and tripled in pain. My eyelashes are thinner and shorter as my pit and leg hair is longer and thicker. My skin is whiter as the bags under my eyes are blacker. My crows feet and laugh lines are in constant competition. The skin on my stomach....enough said. My roots are so long and dark it's almost like I am reverse "block coloring" as a new style...maybe it will catch on. With all the things that are wrong with my body, I look at it in pride. This body bore a tiny human, this body provides nourishment for my child, and this body holds my family tight every night. I'm in awe at what this body did and I thank God every day for giving me that miracle.
My new time, my new normal, my new body are all my new reality. Besides doing all of this without my mom, I wouldn't have it any other way. In Lilly's words as she laid eyes on Lawson for the first time, "It's a dream come true."
Disclaimer- It has taken weeks write this between naps, Mike, you inspired me to finish and I highly recommend doing it! 75% of this was typed with one baby free hand so no punctual or grammatical judging. And as always, thanks for traveling with me.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Do...Don't
Do get pregnant. Don't do it in the summer when you do not look pregnant and everyone wants to buy you a beer or an orange crush.
Do tell your friends and family. Don't let it get to you when some of those friends ask you if you are having more than one at 5 months along....more than once!
Do keep the toilet clean. You notice a lot of sh*t when you're hugging that bowl, pun intended. Don't clean it yourself.
Do take prenatal vitamins. Don't panic when you have to tweeze your stomach.
Do eat the things that you are craving. Don't make eye contact with the doctor as she calculates in her mind how much weight you have gained since conception.
Do buy maternity clothes. Don't catch a glimpse of your rear in the dressing room mirror.
Do buy Old Navy maternity khakis. Don't put them in the dryer.
Do go to Motherhood. Don't allow them to walk you away from the clearance rack.
Do wear pre-owned maternity clothes. Don't assume they are in perfect condition...always check the crotch and back for splits, preferably before going to work and CVS.
Do buy designer Seven for all Mankind maternity jeans. Don't buy them in the size you were before pregnancy. FAIL.
Do buy bras that fit and don't give you quadruple boob. Don't keep it on one second longer than need be.
Do grease up your belly at night with tummy balm, oil, and butter galore. Don't put on your favorite pjs and expect them not to stain.
Do blame all gas on the baby. Don't ever not blame it on the baby.
Do exercise. Don't dress up like a zombie and chase competitive men for three hours. You will pull a muscle...a muscle you didn't know you had.
Do allow your husband to go out and have fun. Don't face his breath while in the bed on his nights out on the town.
Do watch the movie, "What to Expect When You Are Expecting." Don't watch tragic baby stories on Lifetime.
Do scan the mail for baby coupons. Don't allow your eyes to graze the cover of any Victoria Secret catalogue. As a matter of fact, write a note to leave in your mailbox telling your mailman that you will cut him if he puts another in there.
Do keep a hand held mirror handy for the places you can no longer see with the naked eye. Don't look.
Do enjoy every second of this amazing journey. Don't ever take yourself too seriously.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Dear Mom
Mom,
I am twenty weeks pregnant today, twenty of the hardest and the most beautiful weeks that I haven't been able to share with you. Nick and I are having a little girl! We laid in bed the night we found out and wondered if you and Barbara already knew that though.
I keep thinking about the morning that Jaime went into labor with Lilly. Ryan called me around 4:45 in the morning. I am not even sure I brushed my teeth before rushing to the hospital to wait to meet the angel. You arrived not long after in a stylish outfit, hair done, and lipstick. Even though you never needed a speck of makeup, you always looked perfect. Your light from the inside shown so brightly on your outside. You were and will always be the most beautiful woman I've ever known.
Last Saturday I went to Babies R' Us. I've been getting really overwhelmed when looking at baby items because of price and not mention there is SO MUCH STUFF!! I started small looking at the bottles, spoons, and bibs. My eyes went to a pink bib that said, "If Mom says no, just ask Grandma." My first thought was, "That shouldn't say Grandma, it should say GiGi." Then, I lost my breath. My daughter won't have her GiGi. She will only know you through stories, pictures, and the love left behind in your legacy. Even though that love is great, it's not enough. I need you, my daughter needs her GiGi. The tears started in that aisle so I moved along wiping them away as casually as I had something in my eyes. I continued through the car seats, the swings, the strollers, pack and plays, and finally the cribs. By the time I reached the cribs I was in serious need of tissues. I looked around and noticed that every pregnant woman was with their mother Of Course! They were all trying not to stare at me. I decided it was time to get out of Dodge and stop making everyone in the whole store feel uncomfortable!
I sat in my truck for a long while in between panicking about my lack of knowledge about babies and grieving the fact that I couldn't just call you, ask all my questions, and have you alleviate all my fears. I texted Jaim through my tears and she said it the best, "It just sucks and it isn't fair." There is no way around it. It sucks. It isn't fair. (Sorry, I know you hate the word sucks).
Some days when I am driving I imagine how a conversation between us might go.
Hi Momma
Hi Darling, how ya doing?
I'm good, a little tired, a little back pain, but good.
Are you using a heating pad for your back? I remember Jaime was able to take some Tylenol doll, are you taking any Tylenol?
Yes ma'am, I just worry about drugging that little baby too much.
Awwwww, that sweet baby
I'm still throwing up every day in the morning and I am halfway through my pregnancy!
Oh Bayba, I was so sick with you. Just be happy that you haven't already gained 50 pounds like I did when I was carrying you. I was a house! It's no wonder we called you the Michelin Baby.
And I'll never live it down! Good thing I didn't end up with an eating disorder because of that nickname Mom!!
Laugh, laugh, laugh, and then I dubbed you Lumpy as a teenager!!
We would both laugh and I would try to bottle that laugh. Fill my insides with the sound of your voice and the sweetness of your words. I would live in that moment.
I miss you every day. I wish you could see my belly. I wish you could see Chris with Lilly and Roman and how much they love him. He was born to be a "Bud". I just wish you were here.
Some days I imagine you can peek in on us and catch a glimpse of all of us "holding down the fort" without you. I imagine that you can hear Lilly when she says, "I love my family, my family is beautiful." We appreciate the times we have together so much because we know all too well how short and precious life is. Thank you for teaching us to love the Lord and love each other with open hearts.
Till the next time we meet, from my world to yours, and with all the love in my heart,
Lumpy
I am twenty weeks pregnant today, twenty of the hardest and the most beautiful weeks that I haven't been able to share with you. Nick and I are having a little girl! We laid in bed the night we found out and wondered if you and Barbara already knew that though.
I keep thinking about the morning that Jaime went into labor with Lilly. Ryan called me around 4:45 in the morning. I am not even sure I brushed my teeth before rushing to the hospital to wait to meet the angel. You arrived not long after in a stylish outfit, hair done, and lipstick. Even though you never needed a speck of makeup, you always looked perfect. Your light from the inside shown so brightly on your outside. You were and will always be the most beautiful woman I've ever known.
Last Saturday I went to Babies R' Us. I've been getting really overwhelmed when looking at baby items because of price and not mention there is SO MUCH STUFF!! I started small looking at the bottles, spoons, and bibs. My eyes went to a pink bib that said, "If Mom says no, just ask Grandma." My first thought was, "That shouldn't say Grandma, it should say GiGi." Then, I lost my breath. My daughter won't have her GiGi. She will only know you through stories, pictures, and the love left behind in your legacy. Even though that love is great, it's not enough. I need you, my daughter needs her GiGi. The tears started in that aisle so I moved along wiping them away as casually as I had something in my eyes. I continued through the car seats, the swings, the strollers, pack and plays, and finally the cribs. By the time I reached the cribs I was in serious need of tissues. I looked around and noticed that every pregnant woman was with their mother Of Course! They were all trying not to stare at me. I decided it was time to get out of Dodge and stop making everyone in the whole store feel uncomfortable!
I sat in my truck for a long while in between panicking about my lack of knowledge about babies and grieving the fact that I couldn't just call you, ask all my questions, and have you alleviate all my fears. I texted Jaim through my tears and she said it the best, "It just sucks and it isn't fair." There is no way around it. It sucks. It isn't fair. (Sorry, I know you hate the word sucks).
Some days when I am driving I imagine how a conversation between us might go.
Hi Momma
Hi Darling, how ya doing?
I'm good, a little tired, a little back pain, but good.
Are you using a heating pad for your back? I remember Jaime was able to take some Tylenol doll, are you taking any Tylenol?
Yes ma'am, I just worry about drugging that little baby too much.
Awwwww, that sweet baby
I'm still throwing up every day in the morning and I am halfway through my pregnancy!
Oh Bayba, I was so sick with you. Just be happy that you haven't already gained 50 pounds like I did when I was carrying you. I was a house! It's no wonder we called you the Michelin Baby.
And I'll never live it down! Good thing I didn't end up with an eating disorder because of that nickname Mom!!
Laugh, laugh, laugh, and then I dubbed you Lumpy as a teenager!!
We would both laugh and I would try to bottle that laugh. Fill my insides with the sound of your voice and the sweetness of your words. I would live in that moment.
I miss you every day. I wish you could see my belly. I wish you could see Chris with Lilly and Roman and how much they love him. He was born to be a "Bud". I just wish you were here.
Some days I imagine you can peek in on us and catch a glimpse of all of us "holding down the fort" without you. I imagine that you can hear Lilly when she says, "I love my family, my family is beautiful." We appreciate the times we have together so much because we know all too well how short and precious life is. Thank you for teaching us to love the Lord and love each other with open hearts.
Till the next time we meet, from my world to yours, and with all the love in my heart,
Lumpy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)