Five Days til Christmas

and we wanted to wish you and yours a peaceful and wonderful holiday!

The Second Day of Christmas

I skipped my blog post.

Anyway, I have some other holiday things I want to post. I'll get to it eventually. I have until New Year's right?

***

Bea's got one of her top teeth. It's more than just poking out, so I guess I missed it big debut. I can't really see it past her full upper lip (which is so cute and darling, by the way).

I called to tell my mother that Beanie got another tooth. That's about all I got to say. "Oh, really, that's nice. Well, I blah blah blah."

Then, "We got all the photos you sent, with us and the baby. What did you want us to do with all of them?"

"Um, their yours to put up in frames?" I said.

"All of them, what will I do with *all* of them?"

"You can give one to Gram and Grandpa if you want," I suggested.

"Well, you sent them the one, right?" Mom said. "The one that you signed with... the other, what did it say, remembrance... oh the other baby. You know what I mean."

I am thinking, in slow-mo, you can't be serious, she has forgotten my daughter's name. "Yes, I sent her the holiday card."

"Serenity! That's it! Well, I went shopping today, blah blah blah," she countered, changing the subject, lest one gets emotional or talks about something important.

Really, am I just expecting too much of her? Possibly. Should I be surprised, after 35 years of crap from her. Of neglect, lack of interest, lack of effort.

I try to give her the benefit of the doubt, that she did the best she could, with her resources, her skills. Mothering and navigating this society doesn't come naturally.

***

I told Triple S about it later that night. I prefaced with "I really shouldn't tell you this" which h knows always leads to yet another let-down from my parents.

He was miffed.

***

As I believe I have said before, we will be leaving this town, this state, sometime in 2011. 

Triple S tried to apply to many jobs closer to my family, even one within the hick region where I grew up.

Sometimes, ok maybe most times, it just doesn't seem worth it.

Why move to freakin' cold weather, to where people stare at my husband because he is not as white as wonder bread, where I couldn't find a liberal conclave, just to be near them? I don't think my mom would help with the kid(s). I still would probably have to take her to my haircuts and dentist appointments.

No wonder I sometimes feel unsupported.

***

And I woke up this morning with the song "Blue Christmas" on my brain.

The First Day of Christmas

I made an ornament for Serenity.

It's not much, but I made it. It matches the one I sent for the Ornament Exchange.

I used blue, white and silver paper and silver stickers. On the back of the tag it says 2010.

I don't know why I chose blue. I've never been much for the green and red. But, really, I think it is because the ornament looks like tears. 

Thanksgiving approacheth

Ah, it's that most wonderful time of year. That over the river time of year. It's time for Thanksgiving.

It's my favorite holiday, ya know.

I could skip Christmas (and have, the year we went to Mexico).

I've got a free-range, never-frozen turkey sitting in my fridge (slaughtered, of course)

I've got print-outs of wheat- and dairy-free recipes in the kitchen.

The parents are on their way.

Uh oh. Screech. Halt. My parents.

Oh joy. Oh anxiety. Oh my utter lack of patience with all things parental.

I have been stressing all week about the coming criticisms.

Last time they were here, my dad sat and watched the baby cry right in front of him. For goodness sake, just pick her up.

He is always telling me what things I *have* to do with Beatriz (or to her).

"She needs to be in her own bed. She has to learn independence"
"If you want her to sleep, just give her a bottle, then you don't need to be there"
"She has to learn to cry"

To most of which I think "What the fuck? That doesn't make any sense" Then I think "Wow, I must have been a miserable baby" Then I realize I ought to say something, without being reactionary.  Without it disintegrating.

I am afraid it is going to be a long week.  When Bea was first born and my parents were here, it was ugly. The trip in July was marginally better. This is after 10 years of me really working on trying to understand and feel, not sympathy, but compassion?, for my parents. To understand where they come from and not to let where they are in life negatively affect me.  And I just feel bullied by them.  Well, mostly my dad, I suppose. My mom just doesn't listen or hear. And she is also going deaf (physically).

And Bea is just so darn cute. I am not sure they appreciate this. And I think she is happy. I think that counts as a positive for what Triple S and I are doing with her.

So much has changed in parenting since I was a kid. My mom didn't breastfeed my sister or me, and I don't think either of my parents were breastfed either.  We were let to cry ourselves to sleep those first few nights, until we just gave up.  We were to be seen and not heard. I don't remember my mom ever getting down on the floor and playing with us. In fact, she loves to proudly tell me that I loved being alone in my playpen and fought to get back in when my sister kicked me out (no wonder I am such a home-body).

I am consciously doing many things differently than the way I think my parents did it. And I hope to continue to do so. I am sure that I am making mistakes, and will make many more. I just don't aprreciate being criticized about it, almost as second-nature, without them even really thinking about what they are saying.

The big problem is, I don't want to fight with them about it. I don't want to be short with them, or to throw it in their faces that I think they did things wrong. I am sure they tried. Did the best they could with their resources.

I have been trying to come up with ready retorts.

I checked in with Triple S and he is happy with the way we are doing things.

I want Bea to feel safe, and secure, and to know that she can alwas come to us.

Because I never felt that way with my parents.  I still don't.  I can't trust them with my emotions. I muddled my way through my teen years because they weren't there for me. 

And it's not just because they left me to cry in my crib. It was a childhood of thoughtless comments and strict, ever-changing rules, and lack of respect for me as an individual. Even as a kid, you are still an individual.

I want Bea to see me handle stress with grace.

And the parents definitely cause me stress.

****

If I don't make it back here in time:

To all you Americanos:

Have a peaceful, happy, and stress-less Thanksgiving. 

To the rest of you:

Have a nice Thursday! ;)

Mother's Day

Serenity's face is fading from my memory.

I try to hold on to the details. To the overall.

It slips away still.

I try to hold in my mind the differences between the sisters.

But those distinctions are illusive to me.

Bea fills my heart and my time, yet thoughts of Serenity remain. I miss her more and more, never less.

***
I wish you all peace, love and goodness this day. And remember, you are all goodness.

Retail Therapy

Last year, Triple S and I chickened out and skipped the holiday season. We escaped to Mexico and tried to ignore Christmas. It essentially worked, and we found the trip to be restorative and regenerative.

This year, we are here. We went shopping. We bought presents for our sisters and the kids of some friends. Yes, by golly, we even went to toy stores.

People ask us our plans for the holidays. Well, we live here in this big little town all by ourselves. We don't really have any plans. Triple S picked out what he wanted to eat for Christmas Eve dinner; I am working both Thursday and Saturday. We might even go see the new Sherlock Holmes movie (Triple S' favorite fictional character).

Triple S even wanted a tree this year, so out we went on Black Friday and bought an evergreen.

Since we so thoroughly skipped Christmas last year, we didn't have any ornaments for Serenity. I went to Things Remembered online, the only place I could think of that engraves anything, and bought this for 2009:


However, I also really wanted something from Serenity's year of birth. At the same time, I was tooling around on Etsy.

I found this, simple, almost stark, ornament:

from Bugaboo Jewelry and asked her to put a 2008 tag on it. The purple stone is for February.

I also wanted a pea in the pod. I don't know why, I just really like these (I also have a necklace with three 'peas' all picked out on Etsy). I got this ornament:

from CyndesMinis, to recognize all three of the little peas that have been in this pod.

I have also wanted to get a family ring for myself - the object for which I was originally searching on Etsy. I found something simple, and that I can easily add on to, hopefully in March or April 2010:

from BirkaScandinavian. I love the idea of a stacking ring set for a mother's ring (it is NOT like my mother's mother's ring). The red is Triple S' ruby, the purple is Serenity's amethyst, the yellow is my topaz, and the thin blank band is for the miscarriage last fall.

These object make me happy, in a way. There is nothing profound to say about them, but I wanted to share them with you.

I wish you all peace and love this season.

Acceptance brings me Peace

The new view from my office window.



Now, I just need to lure some small birds there. The plant nearly visible at the bottom of the frame is my native columbine.

This is a small orifice feeder, to attract finches an other small songbirds. I also got a hummingbird feeder, but haven't hung it up yet.

***

This morning, finally OPK was positive. Day 30. Triple S audibly breathed a sigh of relief and was as happy as a lark.

We took a long drive today, through hill and dale, literally. Out in the countryside. Triple S wished me a happy MD.

We hiked in a muddy park, got to see a big cave, and wore the dog out.

We bought the bird feeder and the seed.

We stopped at a local dairy and exchanged our old bottles for ice cream. Milk jugs are our savings account (loose less value than stocks), and we only had to pay 20 cents for our malt/ice cream. We had a few bottles.

We came home, where I hung up the feeder and planted some more stuff that I started from seed in the garden. I also planted a Lavender cultivar called "Serenity'.

I had a good day. I felt happy. I miss Serenity, it's always in the background, and I thought of her a lot today. But, today, I felt happy to have been her mom, for the time I had with her.

Then, Triple S got mad at me. I thought he wasn't allowed to get mad at me on MD. I was having a fine day, deadbaby notwithstanding. He's been very sensitive lately, and he has some anger built up or something. He's still prickly, I can sense it. Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with him. I can't tell if he is upset about MD, upset about some jack at work, or what. I think he is mad abut the unfairness of it all. Oh well. I can't ask him these things when he is pissy and expect a decent answer. And I am not too happy with him for raining on my peaceful day.

I think in most ways I have accepted our situation. I have my bad days, but most often they coincide with days of lousy weather or when my body is hurting. For instance, today my back is only a bit tight in the sacrum area, I could walk up steep, muddy hills, and I am without headache or vertigo. If I had been laid up today and it was raining, I think I would feel crummy and more sad.

Now, I say this all the time, but I want to live to honor Serenity's life. I don't want to fight with Triple S or be mad at the world. This morning, when I first woke up and was lying in bed, I tried to direct my thoughts toward the good times when I was pregnant, instead of thinking about the hole in our lives or the time when I realized she wasn't moving anymore or the delivery. I want to remember that happiness, and carry those positive memories and feelings through the day with me.

I am not sure that he is there yet.

Happy Mother's Day to you all, my mama friends in the internets.

Drives are Great for Talkin'

I have been looking forward to today for about 5 months. Today was the native plant sale at a local nature reserve. Multiple vendors come from all over the state to sell their natives. All of my gardening is natives or edibles (except for the gerber daisies I plant in the front porch boxes and plants inherited with the property).

Triple S had a tough week because his coworker's baby shower was today. His boss always hosts the showers after the baby is safely here, because one of her technicians had a stillborn son about 10 years ago. We never had a 'work' shower, and he wanted nothing to do with it today (although he did contribute towards the group gift). So, he planned his day to be over before the shower and came home early. Poor guy. He drove out to the reserve with me.

As we drove through the verdant tree-lined roads, we talked. Triple S feels he received pity at work (short-lived as it was) but little compassion from most of his coworkers (the one who lost her first son and another who had four miscarriages and is now childless have been great - those who get it). For some reason, so many people lack true compassion and empathy.

There seems to be a subtle difference between pity and compassion.

We also talked about a recent story I heard on NPR. It was about the case in Iowa that has legalized gay marriage there. The lawyer that brought the case put into words something that I have always felt but haven't been able to coalesce into a decent paraphrase (Aside from the fact that I identify as a flaming liberal). Basically, this lawyer has worked for years to bring equal rights for LBG to marry. But, she's straight. And the interviewer asked her why she worked to do this. What she said rings so true. I translate it now into my own thoughts. I don't want to see people enslaved, or tattooed to be filed into camps, or treated unfairly or lacking in rights that so many others take for granted. And like the white abolitionists of the North leading up to the Civil War, I am not content living in a society that doesn't offer rights to some but not all, such as accepting that true love can exist between two men or two women. Any two people of adult age should be able to marry, and enjoy all the legal rights and take on all the legal responsibilities of that institution. Triple S retorted that this kind of thinking requires compassion, something we've already seen that so many people lack.

After our deep car conversation, we arrived at the sale, where Triple S helped me carry the plants. I finally found the witch hazel I have been waiting for - I got an Ozark witch hazel for myself and a Virginia for my neighbor ($15 bucks each -a bargain! others I saw at nurseries as high as $120!). This made my day, and made Triple S happy and light because I am happy (he spoils me). Since I saved so much on the witch hazel, I bought several other shade-loving plants for our 'woodland' garden, under our dogwood tree. On the way home, I treated my dear hubby to BBQ, which made him extremely happy.

I am so glad that the days are getting longer. We arrive home and I puttered around in my garden some, planting more basil, sage, calendula, and even risking some gerber daisies. Unfortunately, I was so excited to take care of my posies that I let the dog eat the leftovers. So, I guess I made her happy today too.

I have a wish for this Sunday, and that is to go hunt out a bird feeder for my office window. Other than that, MD is not really bothering me that much. I think that how much I have been looking forward to the plant sale this weekend has outshone the holiday glaring at me on the calender. I sent my mom some generic card, because I didn't want to read too many and because I don't feel like she has really been all that supportive. Well, she doesn't say too many unsupportive things, and I don't try to talk to her about anything anymore anyway.

For all of you out there, I wish you a peaceful and safe Mother's Day. I hope those near you find the ability to feel compassion. May you handle it with grace and may your heart be filled with love.

And please, go give love to my IRL friend who just miscarried her son's little sibling.

Flawed Logic and Other Downloads

Friends are the family that you choose.

No one has chosen to be in the dead baby mama club.

So does that make us friends or family?

But just knowing you are there in my internets helps a bunch.

***

This week has been a hard week. I try to figure out why, but, well, I know. I really prefer the not-bad weeks.

My hormones are messing with me.

It's rainy today.

I have to call the RE today to make an appointment. Yet another doctor.

I feel like such a failure with my physical therapy. I guess I am better, the pain is less. However, I don't feel like my posture has really improved. My stomach is way out and my upper back is way curved. My PT had a student the last two appointments, so we got to go through all the symptoms. I think I am an excellent example of everything that can be wrong with a back (Kyphosis, Lordosis, Scoliosis, and something is rotated - I don't quite understand this one yet). All it means for me is pain. And that I am not healthy enough yet to carry another baby.

Last Saturday was sunny, and there was all day easter egg hunts at work. ugh. I think easter is bothering me more than I thought it was.

I cried at PT today. I think it is offiicial, I have now cried everywhere that I go.

I called my mom, thinking, 'well, maybe it's my fault we're not closer. I'll try talking to her.' So, I got out that I am still in a lot of pain, and she said she wished a doctor had fixed my back when I was a kid (ya know, when SHE was the parent and responsible for taking care of me). Then, I got to hear all about her crap. Thanks. Nope, not my fault. And then she asked what we are doing for easter. ya know, cause we have so much family here. I told her "You know mom, we haven't been celebrating any holidays this year.' "Oh, really? Why not?" Mental note, don't call family when I already feel sucky.

I am battling a bird on my front porch. Well two. I think they are doves. Sunday, they built a nest on the top of the pillar, under the porch roof. In the afternoon, both were gone, so I knocked the nest down. The second day, the nest was back, so I waited until it was empty, and knocked it down again. I placed an old newspaper 'in the way'. Well, next day, they were nestled under the newspaper quite comfortably. So, then I filled the whole pillar with rolled up newspapers (in the sleeves that they land in my yard in) and a telephone book that has been sitting on the front porch for weeks (still in the plastic too). Guess who is sitting where this morning?


I guess once they choose a spot, they are pretty set on it. There's going to be eggs in their soon, then I'll have to worry about the cat getting out. Dang it.

I cried while talking to the receptionist at PT. She knows that our daughter died. Well, this cry was brewing since last night, and it just came out there. She came over and hugged me and was really there for me. **Thanks** She told me that she understood how sad I was, and that her husband divorced her cause she couldn't have kids. Jerk. The owners of the PT place also had several miscarriages before having their (I think two) kids. Maybe that's why I feel comfortable there, and why I chose that place. They have support for these kinds of super sucky things.

Last week, my PT's grandfather died, and we were talking about grief, I told him my daughter died last year (he didn't know, although I kinda said things around it). Well, turns out he and his wife have had a lot of miscarriages and no baby yet. It just makes me sad.

My PT told me to excercise to get my endorphins up. So I walked on the treadmill after my treatment. It made my back hurt, right under the last true rib. Yep, that's evil spot #1. And then I went out to the receptionist, where I proceeded to cry. My endorphins are f'd up, cause they sure didn't help.

This afternoon Triple S and I are off to the farmer's market to buy a rabbit. Yep, we are eating a rabbit on Sunday. "Hop" it makes me feel better. (See, bitter dbms can participate in holiday cheer too).

Xinnian Kaui Le

Today is the first day of the year 4706. A year of the ox.

Last night we said good bye to last year, a rat year. Our year of pain. 2008.

Two years ago, 2007, it was the year of the pig. Not just any pig, the golden pig. Triple S and I were in Taiwan to celebrate the New Year. After nearly 10 years, I finally met Van's mother's siblings and his cousins. The start to the year of the golden pig had been wonderful for his mother's family, the first time they were all together for the holiday in at least 30 years.

I was waiting for my trip to China before getting pregnant - I wanted to meet more of his family, whether the family in Canton, Hong Kong, or Taiwan. Triple S had never believed me on this. But, lo and behold, we conceived Serenity just a few short months after our return state-side. The year of the golden pig is deemed particularly auspicious, bountiful and joyous, and occurs once every 60 years. It was Serenity's year. Triple S and I were happy, nurturing our daughter as the days went by. Serenity died and was delivered just days before the end of this year of so much promise.

During those dark February days of 2008, we marked the beginning of the year of the rat, with a hot pot meal, much like we had last night, but also so very different. Last year, I was just days past delivery, sitting on a boppy because all those lower parts were hurting. I ate robotically, somberly, suffering the idea that every New Year was now to be shadowed with the pain of my daughter's death. I later cried for Triple S' extended family, thinking that their holiday was ruined. This was the beginning of our year of grief, our year of internalization. Much like the rat that cheated his way to be the first among the animals in that mythic zodiac race, this was the year of our betrayal.

That year is now over. Today is the first day of a new year. The year of the earth ox. The animal that truly would have won the race, if not for the beguiling rat. The ox, the strong one, the humble one.

This year, I am making a calendar quilt. It was to be started on January 1st, adding one strip of fabic everyday. At the end, there would be 365 strips. I plan to add a strip each day based on my mood, what I am feeling; if I am particularly thinking about Serenity, I will put in either a pink or a butterfly strip. Last week, I had yet to start, indicating that I was several strips behind. Instead of admitting my procrastination, I decided to do a quilt based on the Chinese calendar. A calendar that somehow holds more significance for me. The first strip will be cut today.

This year is a leap year. A leap year is more than a little different than a Gregorian leap year. There is an entire extra month. Really, there are two 'fifth' months, totalling up to 384 days for this year.

Maybe, just maybe, with a whole 13 months, we just might end up with a wee ox in the family.

Gong Xi Fa Cai.

Bridge over Troubled Waters

cliche? perhaps. But here you have it, from me to you.



I don't know why Paul Simon gets credit on that performance.


While I am off in foreign lands trying to avoid the holiday, I wish for you all peace, strength, hope, love, and yes, joy.

Just like no bridge is made with a single beam of steel or just one cable, our bridge is made of many. The total strength is more than the sum of each us, and together we can hold each other up.

(Mr Spit could likely explain this much better than I can.)

I'll be back soon, and in the spirit of avoiding the holiday, I won't go back and read the posts I've missed, but I will read the comments on my blog, if any. Vacation shouldn't cause me the stress of catching up in Google Reader!

To Give Thanks

Today is what is normally my favorite holiday. I love all the food (the family recipes only, mind you) the time with family, the casual ease of the long weekend.

This year, I cleaned the shelf around Serenity's spot, gardened a bit, and took a nap. I did not want to have a taste of my favorite foods, which I normally eat once per year, in my mouth. I didn't want to celebrate.

But I am grateful for many things:

Triple S, my dear hubby, best friend, companion, confidant. The guy who understands me, and whom I (mostly) understand. He understands why I don't want to celebrate my favorite holiday in the normal manner. We've made a nice life together: we've got a house, a dog, a cat, two cars, and high speed internet. All good.

A couple of my doctors. I figure I better be grateful now, and maybe things will work out next time with the dream team helping us out.

You, the folks on the other side of my blog. This place helps me stay sane and get it all out. Reading your words, whether comments or on your blog, helps keep me balanced. The blogs have lit the path and revealed from the get go that this journey is neither straight nor narrow, but convoluted and at times repetitive. I only hope that I have helped half as much as I have been helped.

Today, I was trying to think that I should be grateful about Serenity. I don't think I am totally there yet. I am glad I had her in my life, and that I enjoyed our time together. I am glad to have felt her move in my belly, and to see Triple S so happy. To me, though, I don't think grateful is really the word, and certainly does not suit the situation as a whole. I love and miss her more than I can bear. I feel privileged to know such love and robbed to have lost her.

Post-holiday wrap up #1

Friday nite, Triple S planned to drive about 45 min to go out for Mexican. I guess he figured that would give us enough time to avoid all the cute trick-or-treaters.

When we were almost ready, I peaked through the front door's small window and caught a glimpse of the girl from the end of the block in an outfit with fairy wings. That was enough to send me to promptly put on my shoes and head out the door. I think that gal was born shortly after Serenity. I don't really know.

The unexpected boon from the holidays? The pics from friends...

I was torn between seeing the neighborhood kids in their outfits and running and hiding. I like them for all their own unique kidnesses. I like seeing my friend's kids dressed up and enjoying life. And it only pangs a wee tiny bit. But avoidance strategies do in theory have their advantages....

On Halloween we did light a candle, maybe to help Serenity to find us, maybe just because. It is the same candle we burned on Oct 15. It has a unique fragrance and burns very slowly. I think we will use it whenever we want to feel close to her, to feel her presence in the room: a call to memory.

Even though we can avoid celebrating and avoid our friends, we can not truly avoid the holidays. Triple S lost it as we lay in bed. "Why? We would have taken good care of her...why?"

I'm sorry babe, to that I have no answer.

All Hallow's Eve

I don't feel like 'celebrating' Halloween.

I know true fear and disorientation.

Triple S has seen a real horror and gore show, replete with sobs, blood and a dead body.

We lived through the pain and the scariness, knowing that it was not fake or for fun; knowing that it could end even more horribly; knowing that there were no treats.

***

I have always been enamored by the traditional belief that, as the summer sun fades into winter's gloom, as the crops are harvested and assessed for rationing, the boundary between our world - the world of the living - and the spirit world - the world of the dead - is thin, and that the dead and the living can commune. It is a time for me to look inward, to reflect on the circle of life, the turning of the seasons, and those who have gone before me.

Scary Halloween costumes come from the idea that the spirits walk the world on this night, and that a costume would disorient them, scare them away, or prevent them from finding the one that they seek. If Serenity comes looking for me tonight, I want her to be able to find me.

Many in Central America observe el Dia de los Muertos as a time to remember their dead and to clean their graves. I prefer this outlook on this time of year.