It is August and Aly will be 26 this month, how did that happen? She doesn't seem to excited about this birthday, she has hit a place where they just aren't as fun as they use to be. When she was younger birthdays were a promise, they brought her closer to the things she wanted to experience, she wanted to be a teenager, wear make-up, learn to drive, be an adult, vote...
Her birthdays now bring her closer to 30 and farther away from her childhood, the place she was once so eager to escape from she now wants to hold onto, it happens to all of us. My heart is breaking for her I know what she is going through, my little Peter-Pan-ess. Time pulls her forward and the things she cherished most are becoming memories that are harder and harder to hold onto, and Stevie isn't here to hold her hand and be her friend.
It is a year of changes and growth.
I am 16 weeks pregnant today, at 46 that is a big change for me, my body, and this family. I am filled with something that feels like faith, magic, love, and wonder. It is so funny, I have had three children you would think this wouldn't be such a big deal but it feels brand new, like it's the first time I ever had a baby, that anyone has ever had a baby. This little wiggle is already a part of our family and feels like it always has been. I believe it has just been waiting for the door to open to come home.
Aly... is getting squishy and maternal, she fights it but I can see and feel her softening. She will miss my 20 week ultrasound (gender) and is bummed. I am going to do something special for her she can still be a part of the day. I may try to call or text her while we are in the exam room so she can still be there. She has class that day, she could skip but it is the beginning of the school year for her and she needs to be there.
Noah...I can't believe how excited this kid is. He is a little boy and I thought he would be a little oblivious to the whole process. I was so wrong. This kid is in love with this baby and he keeps track of what week I am in, how much the baby is growing, what changes have taken place and how many days are left. He can't understand why it takes so long to grow something so small. At first he was sure this was going to be a boy, because that is what he ordered, a little brother, but he has changed his mind and thinks a little sister would be pretty awesome too and he wouldn't have to share his room if it was a girl! He has picked the names out for the baby and they are good names. He is such a sweet and amazing person. He is taking the morning off of school to be at the ultrasound and he will be at the birth with Aly, my sister, and Steve.
Steve...is doing his best to be a good guy but this baby isn't something he imagined for himself. He feels like he is too old, that our relationship is too fragile, that the future is too unpredictable. I get it, I just don't see things the way he does. I have no idea how his role in all of this will play out but I trust the universe to move us all in the direction we all need to go.
I am sure I did the right thing, I can feel it, everything is falling into place inside me. I felt so broken before, I couldn't make sense of anything, and I could not understand how I could truly put myself back together again but I moved in the direction my heart pointed me and here I am, and I am in a peaceful place.
This child does not replace Stevie, it does not take away that pain, and it isn't an escape from loss. I still miss my girl with all that I am, and there is no escape from the loss of a child but this experience is adding another layer to me; I had to learn to be a mother but not lose who I was as a person, I had to learn to be a caregiver but not lose my ability to be a mother, I learned to be an artist but still stay grounded to the life and family I had built, I learned to let Stevie go and still hold onto myself, now I will have a baby and have a new beginning but I will hold onto the child I lost. I can honor the loss of Stevie and the birth of this child in the same breath.
Is Stevie coming home? Does that happen? I am the kind of person who believes it can. I also believe that there could be a child that has been mine all along that has been patiently waiting for it's turn to come home. No matter what this child is loved and I am sure that this is how it was always meant to turn out, I just had to trust the path I was walking, the mountains I was climbing and the destination that seemed so far away and impossible to get to.
I am a blessed person. On the days when my sorrow is deep I forget, all I can feel is what I have lost, and it is so hard to remember what I have had, what still waits for me. Since I was a child I believed in magical things, witches, fairies, God, angels, birthday wishes, star wishes, moon wishes. I lived in worlds I invented, created imaginary places to hide the things that made me afraid, wrapped hope up in shiny paper and kept it in my pockets.
As an adult it is hard to believe in what was once so easy and felt so real. Stevie's death flattened me out, I felt like I was alone on an island, and not a pretty one. The sea took a tiny bit everyday and I knew one day I would be swallowed by it, and it would taste like tears and feel like falling. Then there were days the sun would come out and dry out the shore just a little, the waves would quiet and I could hear birds far away, in my pockets I could feel something shiny...hope.
It has been four years, and my island is my home, my house is on it, my family is here, my friends, my life. The sea is there and sometimes I am pulled to take my little row boat out into it, brave it, face it, swim in it. It can't swallow me now but it will forever be a part of me, it is what my tears are made out of.
This baby is promise, this baby is wrapped in shiny paper and this baby is helping me believe in magical things again.
My oldest baby is a woman now, still my child, still my little girl with the curly hair the gentle heart, and the laugh that melts me. My Stevie lives in my heart, she is a part of my soul and she surrounds me with her love. My little boy is growing up so fast but he is the glue that has kept my heart in one piece, he is love, he is music, he is sweetness.
This is a year of change, growth, and healing...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Coming home...

I had a dream that we lived in a small house, even smaller than the one we live in now it was just you, me and Aly...just like before, a long time ago when we lived in the forest and the rain kept falling.
I was getting the shower ready for you and I couldn't get the temperature correct, you kept saying it was OK but I knew it wasn't I wanted it to be perfect. It was just a little dream, faded too quickly, but it felt important, any glimpse I get of you warms my heart.
Well my love it seems one of those little embryos may have decided to snuggle in. It has been two years of tears and trying, wondering if I am crazy for not letting go of this, I just had to try, and try again. The funny thing is that this was my last try, I had run out of options and baby money. I accepted that I needed to move on if the universe said no, but it didn't, it just wanted me to travel a little more before I reached my destination.
Tomorrow I will be 8 weeks pregnant, still very early for jumping up and down and celebrating, when you are my age you have to be cautiously optimistic. I heard her heart beating, I felt you close by... it was like magic, and fairies, and I cried.
I need this beginning, I wish you were here to hold my hand, pick out names and shop for cradles and and soft baby clothes.
A part of me that felt broken is starting to heal, I knew it would. I still miss you, I am still sad, and no one can ever take your place but my heart has a place to land, it is a soft place, it feels like hope and birthday cake... only you would understand.
Maybe there is a God...and maybe God is letting you share a little bit of heaven with me so I won't feel so alone here without you.
Maybe you are coming home...
Monday, May 9, 2011
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.
Monday, April 18, 2011
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
Monday, February 28, 2011
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.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
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
Friday, November 19, 2010
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