Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Baby #2, EDD 8/3/06

Something else to be thankful for... Finally, a BFP!

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Giving thanks

We passed on our usual Thanksgiving with friends in favor of hanging out alone together in the city and seeing a movie. I just couldn't bear the idea of being around a bunch of happy people who seem to have everything in the world to be thankful for at the moment. I decided long ago that I didn't want to participate in any sort of holiday celebration this year, especially not the kind that involve the concept of family, generosity, good will, cheer, or the entire month of December.

That being said, I know that I do have a lot to be thankful for. I have an amazing, sensitive, kind, protective, and loving husband, who I wouldn't have made it through this last year without. I have a wonderful mother and stepdad, caring and supportive in-laws, two great cats, dear old friends who have managed to stick around, and treasured new friends who accept me for who I am today. Best of all, I have the joy of remembering the day we welcomed our beautiful son into the world, albeit for a brief time. Lots of people don't get to experience that much.

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Babies Memorial Service

The hospital where Julian was born hosted a bilingual memorial service for babies who died after spending their brief lives there this afternoon at 2pm. I have been experiencing a constant, low-level anxiety all week leading up to this event. I guess I wasn't sure what to expect.

Apart from a few minor annoyances (way too many children, one of whom threw up too near to me; slight lack of organization; unnecessary and offensive opening remarks from the hospital chaplain who compared our collective loss to his golf game [did he really say that?] and claimed to know our pain because he has two children in their twenties [huh?] who were born in the same hospital), the service was very nice.

When we walked in, there was a board with a list of all the babies who had died in the hospital over the past year, as well as a board with photos we had submitted. I think about 50 families attended the service. There was also a program with writings many of the mothers had done for and/or about their children. The service included a few readings, some by parents, some by hospital staff.

One of the NICU nurses read the poem I wrote for Julian, which was quite moving. A woman with a lovely voice sang while her partner accompanied her on the piano. Then there was a candle lighting ceremony in which all the babies' names were read, and the families were invited to come light a candle in honor of their child(ren). The candles were decorated with the name of each baby (see above). Following the candle-lighting ceremony, we went out to the garden to plant bulbs around a tree dedicated in memory of all the NICU babies who didn't get to go home.

It was emotional as well as life-affirming to see all the children, the surviving siblings, enthusiastically plunging their hands into the soil. Of course, the downside is that we were also saddened by the fact that most of the other families had one or more living children, and we do not...

We drove home listening to Rufus Wainwright.

The Rules

[Borrowed from GabesMama. To see the complete list, go here.]

Rule 1: This is the mamma of all rules. If you could just do this one tiny thing, then I would be happy: don't get pregnant.
Rule 2: Almost no one will follow rule 1, so I will proceed from here.
Rule 3: Don't get pregnant two weeks after my son's funeral.
Rule 4: Don't show your amazingly beautiful belly off.
Rule 5: Don't tell anyone at work if you work in my office.
Rule 6: Don't have a shower of any kind.
Rule 7: Don't allow your co-workers to talk about how easy or hard they heard your labor was.
Rule 8: Don't e-mail your baby pictures to your co-workers so that they may get circulated around the office.
Rule 9: Don't put up pictures in your cube of your baby, and don't bring your baby into the office!
Rule 10: Don't have a baby with brown hair and brown eyes, that just hurts.