Here we are...

It was a beautiful day...my family gave me flowers (purple petunias for the garden) , Candy ( a hand packed box from See's), and we spent the day wearing pajamas, soaking in the hot tub, eating a super big breakfast with banana pancakes and mango jalapeno sausages. The we went to Berkeley for dinner to Cafe Colucci for some Ethiopian food (yummiest). But this morning I got my real present.

At 11:30 am I had two embryos transferred.

The morning started off nice, a long shower, a bagel at a little place on College, a long walk through a flower filled neighborhood, the houses on Webster always make me smile. I drank the water, took the pills, got the injection and in two minutes it was done.

I then went for a little drive, ended up in Orinda and had a big mango and chicken salad while I sat outside and scribbled in my journal. On my way home I stopped at the cemetery and left a Republic of Cake cupcake for Stevie, a Meyer lemon with rosemary frosting (heavenly).

Home for a nap, made dinner, now I wait.

I feel good about this. Not sure it worked good but at peace with what ever the outcome will be. I had to be in a lot of places to find this place and its good.

There is a Jason Mraz song that is perfect for this moment...

Here we are, here we are, we're still here,
What a beautiful mess this is...
It's like taking a guess when the only answer is yes.
Through timeless words and priceless pictures
We'll fly like birds not of this earth,
and tides they turn and hearts disfigure
but that's no concern when we are wounded together.
and we tore our dresses and stained our shirts
but it's nice today
oh, the wait was so worth it.

The song is called Beautiful mess and I think he wrote if just for me...

I am full, happy, excited, tired and it is time for me to rest, sleep, dream.

Stevie find me tell me you got the cupcake, I love you.

Candy Land...

It is April 18Th and I remember this day, the last day home, the trip to the hospital we made, the long night and morning, letting you go...

I love you Stevie. It will be four years tomorrow. You would be 23, a student at Cornell, we would have sold this house and moved to East, to be close to you, to be a part of your adventure. You would say not to come, to let you grow up and do this on your own but I know you would be happy that I was not far away, we would find a big house not far from the campus that I would spend years fixing up because I love it and hate it and I am good at it. I would do your laundry, Dad would help you with physics and you would be blissed out.

How old are you in heaven? Are you still 19 or do you just not count days because they have no meaning where you are?

God I hope there is a heaven bunny, and I hope there was a big party when you got there and it has been nothing but beauty and discovery for you since you arrived. I hope you have missed us but not too much. I hope you get to sleep as long as you want and eat what ever you like. I hope you have a big fat cruiser bike you ride on the beach. I hope you have found the best pic-nic spots with big redwood trees and soft grass.

No baby for me, I cried. I told myself I would not try again but I am, one last time,everything that could have gone wrong did. I should have taken that as a sign that it was not meant to be but I woke up one morning after the bleeding started and decided that in April I needed to try one more time because it was April and how could I not...

Tomorrow I will go to the cemetery, not sure what flowers to bring but I bought some green apples and little tangerines for you. I won't stay long, if I do I fall apart and I don't want to. I want to visit the body you once lived in that I loved so much and tell you how much I miss you. Then I need to leave before I start rewinding everything.

I watched a movie called "Rabbit Hole" last night, it was hard, I cried, but I needed to see it for some reason. There is a scene where people are sitting in a circle at a support group for grieving parents and they were talking about feelings of loss. There are some people who have been coming to it for years and years...I don't want to be like that, stuck, so sad, and forever identifying with that and nothing else.

I know everyone has their own internal clock, and there is no schedule for grieving but at some point there has to be more than just the grief, right? You have to shower, eat, drive carpool and plant things. There is work to be done still, children to raise, a house to clean, places to see, and a life that needs living. Staying in one place for too long is not an option really.

There is a part int the movie where the mother who has lost her son asks "Does it ever go away?" and her mother tells her "No, it doesn't, you hold onto it because it is all you have left, it 's like a brick in your pocket, and you learn to live with it there. Some days you hardly notice it, then you will dig around looking for something else and there it will be". I can live with the brick, it is not a choice, but I also choose to fill my pockets with so many things that the brick is easy to carry that when I find it or it finds me it is a part of everything.

You are not a brick, the grief is. You are still you, and still my daughter and this love I feel for you never changes.

I wish you could come home, I wish I could visit heaven. I wish my faith was stronger and the God I believed in as a child still belonged to me and would tell me where you are.

Come to me in my dreams tonight, wake me up, let's play Candy Land and tell secrets. I will paint your toenails pink, and you can tell me things that will make me laugh. We will stay up all night being silly, holding hands, and before morning, before the sky turns you can promise me you are not far away...

I love you sweetness,
mama

Spring

Its the last day of February. Spring is coming I can smell her, feel her, she is waiting outside the edges of Winter for her turn. I love spring, she holds promise, there are gardens to be planted, weeds to be pulled, leaves pushing through the ground and out of branches. The days get a little longer and the sun is out more and more warming everything back to life, even me.

I love the way spring transforms the back yard, my heart, my state of mind, making me forget the cold of winter, helping me remember every Easter egg hunt we have had here, the year we put in the fish pond, took out the fish pond, put in the hot tub, planted the fig tree, got rid of the old wheel barrel that use to hold daisies and violets...

I can't forget the spring Stevie left and the cherries grew on the tree and everything changed forever but hope didn't die, love survived and here we are, oh here we are.

I belong to her, I am her servant. I am the keeper of her memory, I cherish the things she left behind, I am the caretaker of her grave. I do this because I must because I could not breath if I didn't. She left and I was left behind here, somewhere she waits and watches and I am determined to make her proud, to do this right, to keep my promises. I wait to for a miracle I don't know what it will look like or feel like or how I will know it has happened but it will, I am sure of it.

I adopted four little embryos. I don't know much about them only that they were left behind, the donors could not continue, they had broken hearts. To heal they had to move on. To heal I am taking their place. My heart may be broken too but I have to try, it's what I do.

In a month I will know if these embryos will become babies. If they are meant to be born and if I am meant to give birth to them the universe will set this all into motion, hopefully it already has. Spring is my lucky charm.

This house needs a baby, a beginning, the sound of children laughing, cartoons, and a big plastic wagon on the front lawn. This family needs a child and all that comes with it. Not everyone agrees with me, and I have been told that I should be thinking about filling an empty nest with vacations, quiet afternoons, long lunches with friends and getting to know my husband again.

I am not an empty nest kinda girl, I am not ready nor do I crave hours and hours of quiet and a life that does not include a messy house, Sunday breakfast, and bedtime stories. There will be a time I am sure when I want my life to myself, when I will love not stepping on Lego's or having a bath free of Mr.Potatohead and all of his friends. I am sure that I will someday want to walk on a beach with my husband no smidgets in tow who have to pee...

I still need monsters under the bed, I want to pack a lunches, I want to be late for the dentist, have a calendar full of places we need to be and things I need to remember. I want little feet under covers, good morning kisses, cereal and bubbles. For me this is the best part of life and I have not had enough of it yet.

I am designed to live long, to survive famines, and wars, to heal from mortal wounds and to defy odds. I don't know why. If I am staying I am going to make this life mine by doing what I love most by filling it with family, friends, art, words, good food, and a belief in something bigger than myself. I want to learn about the stars, understand how deep the ocean really is, find things no one else knows about. I want to write a story, learn to sing, travel to the pyramids, toss a penny into the Grand Canyon, and eat dinner in Italy.

I will grow old with our without a broken heart or a house full of kids. Time is what it is and it moves slow when you wish it would pass and too fast when you need it to slow down. It is it's own being and I live inside it, I can't change it but I can be my own being and love and protect what is inside me.

On Thursday I reach for a miracle, and I don't stop reaching. I will go where the universe guides me. I won't be afraid. I have been in the Winter of my life I want to be warm now, I am ready to grow, I am reaching for the sun. Like Spring I am waiting around the edges, waiting for my turn.

Stevie

The daffodills are up, the ones I planted for you when they were your favorite. They made me think of you, it is a bittersweet thing, I can see your face in them, your smile, and hear your voice but I also remember that you will never see them again, not like before.

Soon the tulips will be here, then spring...

I am praying that spring will bring a baby. This is the month I try, I have adopted four embryos.

I wish you could come home, that you could come back as a little baby that smells like apple blossoms and has the color of heaven in her eyes. It could happen, miracles happen...

My arms are empty. Noah is a big boy now, off running around, performing in show after show, hanging out with friends, getting crushes on girls. Your sister is a woman, when I was her age the two of you were running aroun the house putting toothpaste in your hair, fairy hunting, and macaroni and cheese eating.

I am lonley for a little hand in mine, bedtime stories and beginnings.

Don't be mad at me for wanting this, needing this. You are my heart, my love and my very best buddy in the world. No one has ever or will ever take your place.

I have been so busy, I just keep working hard, it helps, it keeps me focussed outside instead of inside, it helps me sleep, keeps me breathing deep and hoping.

I love you sweet girl, so much, it never changes, it never goes away, it is a part of me, you are a part of me.

If you can't come home send me a little sister or two that might need a silly mom. Tell them there is chocolate cake for breakfast at our house, that we sleep in a big pile in soft blankets and tell stories until we fall asleep. There are fruit trees and a big trampoline and spaghetti dinners outside when the leaves start to turn and fall. We swear like pirates in the summer on our little boat. Dad and I agree on nothing and we are a miserable comedy but we are a family, a good one, a strong one.

Do you miss us? We miss you.

Come home if you can, the window has been open, and I am opening it up a little more.

I love you bunny,

mama

To try or not to try...

Falling into place...

It is Sunday, the sun is out but the air is cool and crisp and tastes like winter is coming. It is a good day.

I got an email from a woman who is willing to give us embryos. We spoke with her some time ago but they chose another family who also lost a daughter, That family is now pregnant (and I wish them happy healthy babies)...and there are still embryos remaining. If we want them they are willing to gift them to us.

I have been holding my breath since I read the email.

I told Steve and after a long talk that lasted most of the night and some of the morning we decided we would go for it. He is worried about his age, worried about money, worried about everything there is to worry about. He knows this is what I really want and that I am very sure. He loves me and wants me to have this chance. He will continue to worry but I think it is what we do as parents. We worry so much because we want so much for our children. We know that in a blink of an eye everything can change, we need to be their hero, protector, teacher, friend.

Steve was 41 when Noah was born and his father was 43 when his younger brother was born. I think it will be fine. We have enough of everything...when we had the girls we had nothing and we did just fine. I know this will be good for our family, it will help us heal, love is a powerful thing. I know, know, know this will be good for me, for so many reasons.

We are older now than we were when the girls were born but we also own a home and business, we are smarter, stronger, wiser, we have worked out all the bugs, we understand kids, know what to expect and don't sweat the small stuff anymore.

We have also been married for twenty five years and there are days I would like to run away from home but bake instead. We are both active, work hard, we are healthy and my genetics promise me a 100 years if I look both ways before I cross the street.

These embryos are not a sure thing, they have hurdles to jump and so do I. They have to survive the thawing process, my body has to be prepared. They have to implant and my body has to embrace them. They have to continue to grow and my body has to nourish them.

My prayer is that it all turns out like it should.

I asked for one good thing and good is raining all over me today.

I thank these donors with all my heart. I am not sure if they know how much this gift means to me and how they are changing lives and building families. I asked the universe for a chance, and with thier help I am getting it.

So cross your fingers and toes for us, send up a prayer if you are so inclined, good thoughts are welcome too.

Now I am going to get my little guy outside we have a new RC helocopter to fly.

Emily

I opened my email tonight, from T a short note "I just read on PBT that Emily passed away".

My heart sank.

When Stevie was diagnosed a joined a support group for parents that were caring for children who had brain tumors. It isn't a club anyone wants to belong to and when I first joined I could not believe I was a member really. I would sit there and cry feeling so sad for these families and all they and their children were forced to endure.

One night I reached out, it isn't easy for me to do that, I like to feel strong and in control even when I know I'm not. I would rather hug someone than to be hugged.

I remember going to the movies back then and there was a St.Judes spot they ran before the film. I cried, my sister felt terrible for me, I turned to her and said "I just don't know how these people do it" She reminded me that I was doing it and it hit me, "Oh my God we are one of those families, my kid has cancer, I am a cancer mom, this may not go well"

I made many friends on that list, what usually happens though is that when a child transitions to the next world that parent also transitions to the next part of their life and we lose track of them when they do. Then just as fast another parent posts, terrified, a million questions, needing someone to hold them up because they can't sleep or eat or figure out what to do next.

We were all falling apart but we somehow managed to hold each other together, I don't know how, love is a powerful thing.

I soon became a moderator and met two amazing people who remain in my heart to this day. They still keep this list running, making sure there is always someone to greet a new parent, they offer advice, resources and will call you at the hospital at two in the morning if they think you are melting down and Melt down I did.

When it was Stevie's turn to transition I left the list.

Teresa and Julie would not let me go. They kept me, held on to me and saved me. They were like a tag team without even knowing it. These two women who didn't even know my first name just an ID on a computer screen reached out and made sure that I knew I was loved and I was not alone.

Tulips arrived over and over I still have no idea how they found them. T made a book out of my posts, wrote me every morning and became my guardian angel. Julie wrote me posts, called me and kept me in a place that felt as normal as possible, kept me human. She made me laugh, she shared her life with me, she supported me with cards and flowers and little gifts that touched my heart.

It has been three years.

Julies daughter Emily has left for pink skies.

I want to wrap her in my friendship, give her back what she has given me. Tonight I will light a candle and say a prayer that Emily is being welcomed home by all the people who love her and have been waiting so long for her return. I will say a prayer for Julie and her breaking heart.

Julie my sweet friend I love you so, I am here...this is a new club, like the one before no one wants to belong to it, but once again we are bonded, strengthened and healed by the very thing that has broken us.

You are not alone, you are loved and your sweet girl has broken free from that cocoon and can finally spread her wings...her task here complete. They are everywhere my friend, everywhere.

Gabriell