Annoying Day

And I don't want to talk about it. It wasn't a bad day, just annoying. Like having professional pictures of the boys in the park while the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, but the photographer had to cancel and this is the best I could do holding the camera:

LJ refused to smile and Sprout is absent from most of the photos because he insisted on tackling his brother, as shown above. There were bees in those purple flowers in the grass. Big ones. It says something about my skills behind the lens that the best picture is this last one of the back of Sprout's head. Annoying all around. But I do like the pics.*

*Made in "Scene" mode because everything I learned in my Intro to Your DSLR class I forgot. Yep.

I'm Not Angry

This may sound angry, but I'm not angry about it. I'm really not. I'm a little sad. I am mostly neutral.

A few weeks ago I was talking to a friend who was pregnant with her first and finally over the hump of the worst morning sickness. She knew about Blue all along and in fact was very supportive after he died. We were talking about morning sickness in pregnancy and I made a comment about how I felt with "my three." She interrupted and excitedly asked, "Are you pregnant?" And I said "No, but the dead one counts too." I said this in a light-hearted way, I mean, as much as possible. I wasn't angry in the moment. I wasn't sad. I know that she was thinking that maybe I was sharing some new news, not reminiscing about the past.

But it felt kind of weird, like maybe I wasn't supposed to acknowledge my first pregnancy in the context of this conversation? That is what makes me a little sad. Either that Blue is forgotten or that I ought to be leaving him out. But if we're going to talk about first-trimester morning sickness, isn't it OK to talk about the pregnancy that lasted more than 25 weeks? I want to talk about that pregnancy sometimes. I want to remember it, not forget it. The conversation between us then just kind of died itself. Or moved on, or whatever. It wasn't that awkward. But I felt kind of ... silenced.

I'm not angry. But I'm not cool with that either.

Acts and Omissions

It turns out I have a friend who is a social conservative, fiscal liberal. I didn't know those exist? We were able to have a somewhat normal discussion about why abortions should not be allowed (the friend agreed to rape, incest and life/health of the mother exceptions, which is how we got to talking about it*), but later that day and the next day I had a hard time reconciling the fact that I was friends with something who was judging me. Not really, personally. I didn't tell my story. But I felt like there is nothing but judgment when you decide to substitute your decision for someone else's. I think that's actually the definition of being judgmental. A few more days passed and I was fine and we can still be friends. I'm pretty sure.

Last weekend there was a dinner party for my horse trainer who turned 50 the weekend before. I was talking to a friend who is late in pregnancy with a baby boy who used to have a twin. When she posted on Facebook that one of the twins had died, that's what she said. He died. She told me the other night that he had anencephaly and they decided to terminate. It came at great risk to the other baby, but continuing with the pregnancy as it was would have come at great risk to her. The doctors predicted that he would have lived eight hours at most. As we were talking I was the one fighting back tears. I mean crying. It all started because of the story of our broodmare giving birth to a stillborn foal, whose body was malformed. The mare foaled right after another mare whose baby lived, and apparently she showed signs of longing and jealousy. One day the mare didn't come when called, and the woman who took care of her thought she might have died. Like of a broken heart. And I remember this story from years ago and I was so sad about it, imaging what it might have been like. For a horse! And then it happened to me. And I turned to my friend as I was then crying and said, "I thought that was sad but then it happened to us." She didn't cry but she opened up and asked me if I had gotten therapy. "Probably not enough," I said. I didn't even know I felt that way. It was strange to see her so composed, so much closer to her loss, while I cried more than, you know, I may have wanted to. When I asked if my mascara was running, she said no and that she had already checked. Maybe she wasn't as sad about her loss as I was about mine. It's hard to believe that, but we are all different and emotions affect us all differently. She has an older child. The other twin is doing well. But it was interesting to also hear how the loss affects the older child, and how my friend was struggling to explain it all to a 4-year-old, especially without the use of God books. We agreed to write a book. I don't know how to tell an older child that her little brother died before he was born, but some day I want to figure out a way to tell my younger children about their big brother who died.

And what do we say? What is part of that story? And what, if anything, is left out? It's because of people like my first friend that people like me and my second friend don't tell a significant part of our story when we tell people that we had a baby...but he died.

I will never tell Friend 1 that I had an abortion because my baby had cystic fibrosis. It's her opinion that when you sign on to have a baby, you just "figure out" anything and everything that comes along with that, no matter the quality of life issues, the financial issues, the effects on every other relationship you have in your life. She's confident in this position because she can imagine life with a child in a wheelchair, and it doesn't seem that bad to her. I just wish I had had the presence of mind to say, quite kindly, that you don't really know what you would do in a certain situation until you are actually in that situation. Because there are a 1,000 other scenarios that she did not imagine. And if you can't know what you would do, how can you possibly know what someone else should do?

I am sad, and frustrated, and angry, that part of my story is stifled. I agonized over my decision, and agonized over the loss of my baby and the life I wanted with him. So few people truly understand this. And the ones who don't...it's like, you can't tell them.

*Is incest not rape? Because if it isn't, then allowing an abortion in cases of incest is an acknowledgment that we don't want to have babies with birth defects, right? And if prohibiting abortion is about protecting the innocent life of the baby, then it is not morally justifiable to allow abortion for rape. And is anyone actually opposed to abortions where the mother will die if she doesn't get one? It would be interesting for someone opposed to abortion to make a Darwinist argument in that case, no?

Back to the Grind

I would like to blog more but I just don't know how to do it. I left work at 5:39 tonight. It felt like I was leaving late, but I thought about how early that would seem if I didn't have kids. What would I do? I would go to the gym, maybe go grocery shopping after or meet someone for dinner or a drink. (Not that I equate grocery shopping with a social life.) And I would come home and realize how much time there still was before going to bed and maybe I would read something enjoyable.

I guess in a way I have done this because I ran circles around the house playing "chase" with Sprout for 5 minutes and did one 10-second downward dog, then met LJ for a drink (i.e. nursed him to sleep), put some frozen perogies and "chicken" nuggets on a baking sheet and ate them standing up well after they cooled down because Sprout screamed his head off about going to bed and I was stuck in another room upstairs so as not to disturb him further by walking past his room, then I read something enjoyable by fucking around on Facebook for a while. Actually I poked around on the New York Times which I do find actually enjoyable, in addition to Facebook time which I find pseudo enjoyable.

Being back at work continues to be not as bad as I might have thought but I am realizing just how much another kid changes your life and how selfish I would really like to be. I received some advice today that "the world favors a 4-person family." If we decide to "go for the girl" we will have to go for another vehicle because my Mazda3 definitely does not seat 3 car seats, and kids are in car seats these days until they are 12.

I have also been more sad about Blue lately than I would have expected. There is nothing about this time of year that is a grief trigger. In particular anyway. I was holding LJ the other day over my shoulder and he was so content, quiet and still. I was getting ready to go outside for a quick run but he felt so delicious and I whispered, "I will hold you forever." Which if course I won't and which of course reminded me that it was something I never did and could never do with Blue. A few moments later as I tried to put him down so I could leave I told him, "I can't put you down." And suddenly tears were just streaming from my eyes and they were happy and sad all at once and it was just so confusing.

I would say being back at work is actually kind of good, but I don't have enough time after work to see my babes, and I don't have any time after work to exercise, which is something I really enjoy besides being great stress relief, but that makes it even harder to see my babes but I think being away from them sometimes is good but then I hold them and I can't put them down.

LJ is still only three months old. Someone please tell me this is still hormones????

#Microblog Mondays: Exceeding Expectations

Because if your expectations are in the basement, it's easy to do. First day back to work today after a 14-week leave. I cheated though, because I came home at lunch to see LJ and nurse him. But at any rate it was not that bad. When I got home in the evening, Sprout opened the door for me and then we ran around the house a bit. I realize he doesn't laugh out loud with me very often, but tonight I got to hear some of those adorable toddler giggles as we played tag. Both kids went to bed just before 8:00 and I am getting ready for a 9:00 candlelight yoga class. Not bad at all. Happy Monday!

Seems Like Without Tenderness

I was sad today and it didn't even start out being about Blue. But then I ended up being sad about him and everything too.

If I were taking the standard 10-week maternity leave from work I would have gone back today. And I just do not want to go back to this job. Even if I liked my job, I would not be ready yet. Sleep is still too fragmented and I have to drag myself from bed every morning unless Mr. E lets me sleep in until 9 or 9:30 or even later. I have not been pumping to build up a store of milk. Not that that absolutely needs to be done or that I wouldn't have done that over the past week or two knowing I would be going back to work today. But I really don't like this job. I don't have enough responsibility, I don't have enough interesting work, I don't make enough money. After more than two years you would think at least one of these areas would no longer be deficient. I don't even want to be a lawyer. I'm not sure that I ever did but it sounded like a good option a number of years ago and really it's not all bad. But I can't stop fantasizing about what else I would rather be doing with my life.

And I guess that's how I started being sad about Blue because I was thinking about what I might have done differently with my life if he had been born healthy. There is no question that my life would have been completely different, but it is the imagined permutations of that different life that I find difficult to avoid. The questions about that life appear randomly in my thoughts. Would Chris and I have become the guardians of his friend's little boy? What would have happened if we didn't stay together? When I left him, why did I never hear from her? I guess she was always his friend and not mine, but I had thought she was my friend too. When would I have gone back to work, i.e. gotten a job, after Blue was born? What would his name have been? Would we have hosted Chris' family for Thanksgiving when Blue was just a week or a few weeks old? Would we have moved out of Chris' 800-square-foot condo into a house with a garage and a yard? Would we have lasted that long as a couple? Where would I live now? Had I stayed with him, would I be miserable or would I have had an affair?

It was a beautiful cold day yesterday and I went for a run in the nearby park that stretches along the banks of a small river. I stopped on a bridge and stared at the water, feeling an old familiar unsettled-ness about my life. It wasn't the same urgent purposelessness, if there is such a thing, that I felt in my early 30s once I realized how much I wanted to have a baby. To meet a man with whom to have a baby. I was having a really great time in my life, if I think about it, but I felt an intense lack of purpose and direction. Now that I have a family, it doesn't hurt so bad that I don't have the kind of job or career or work life that I want. But thinking about having to go back to work today made that feeling more acute. That feeling that I want to do something really great but I have no idea what that is and how I will get there. Usually I think it's something creative, or something entrepreneurial, but sometimes I think I would rather do nothing at all. Not that I would do nothing, but that what I did was not so much about a career and making money but about how I touched people's lives or left something better than I found it. I suppose I should admit that sometimes I think that "doing nothing" could also look like moving back to a ski town and working in a restaurant and chasing powder days.

It doesn't surprise me at all that I have a family, a house, a career if I want it, and still I feel like there's something missing. That something missing that I'm talking about, it's not Blue, but anytime I think of something missing I am missing him too.

All These Anniveraries

Today is Blue's due date. All these anniversaries are adding up. I didn't fell particularly sad today. No, actually, I didn't feel sad today. Like at all. I had some sadness yesterday. I had some sadness last weekend. Come to think of it, November has been more of a sad month than not, just not today. November is sad because of Blue's due date, because there's Thanksgiving and I always remember that three years ago in November there was supposed to be a baby on Thanksgiving but there wasn't. The days get shorter. The days get colder. November is just not the greatest month for a lot of reasons!

But today was OK. Today was a fuzzy morning because LJ fussed from 3-something until 7-something, when he finally fell into a sound sleep...and Sprout woke up. Workmen arrived at our house to start basement demolition and mold remediation--yay? Boo moldy house, but yay to fixing it. Sprout went to school today, and LJ, Mr. E and I went to the barn where I ride my dad's horse. We came home and after feeding LJ I went for a run. It was sunny with some wind and pretty cold, but I love sunny and don't really mind cold so it was good. I thought about how I was not that sad and it was Blue's due date today. I took a long, hot shower and then my aunt came to meet LJ and visit with us and the boys. We went to Starbucks for soy mochas and we chatted and looked at Blue's picture of his name in the sand but I did not mention that today was the day. Sprout was totally friendly and adorable with her even though he has not seen her in months. Mr. E took Sprout to get burritos for supper and on the five-minute drive home I guess Sprout almost fell asleep. He was such a delight at supper, we three ate together while LJ slept and Sprout ate well, didn't make a mess or spit out his milk--one of his favorite things to do--and I thought we were right on track with our planned early bedtime.

I did his bath--OMG, he totally took a dump in the tub, for the first time ever! WTF?--and stories and turned out his light and he was playing and talking in his room a bit as he often does and it wasn't even 7:30 and I'm thinking this is good. Until about 30 minutes later he banged his head on his door, according to Mr. E, harder than ever before. So Mr. E went upstairs to help him fall asleep and almost 2 hours later he is still there. I need help with this! This is the third night in a row that Mr. E has waited in Sprout's room until he fell asleep. I know this is terrible for us and is not even helping Sprout get more sleep. When he bangs his head it is just awful and we don't know what to do. He does not do it rhymically to fall asleep, he does it against his door when he doesn't want to fall asleep. We had to move him to a toddler bed a few months ago because he kept climbing out of his crib and a week of "silent return" did not train him back into his crib. I do feel like he is too young for a bed and free rein in his room, but we have removed everything but a few books--seriously, it is like a jail cell in there. We have to close his door so he's not out wandering about, which he can't open himself. So he bangs his head to get out. If we go to him because he banged his head very hard, he will bang harder if we try to leave him in his room again before he falls asleep. I guess we will try leaving his door open and closing all the other doors upstairs and hope that he doesn't bang on the other doors. Likely he will close his own door and not be able to get back into his room so we will have to battle it out with him anyway. Until this week he was going to bed well, without banging, most nights. Maybe once per week he would have a hard time. Also until this week we have not lay in his room with him except one night when he was sick and one night when he awoke from a night terror. I do not want to become the parents who dread bedtime--but I already do--because they have to spend hours in the child's room each night. Ugh.

OK, LJ, now crying...more later (like in another two weeks).