"Getting older's not been on my plans"

     I always wanted my kids to have the "cool" stuffed animal. I wanted them to be the odd one out. So, when Owen was born I bought him a stuffed fried egg, a stuffed ravioli, a cool dragon, and a neat narwhal. Needless to say, he didn't really take to any of those. And he didn't really have a favorite stuffed animal until he turned 1. To this day, we still don't know where he got this thing. It's a nerdy little tiger, with a ribbon bow under its chin, that goes everywhere. In fact, if he leaves him at home on "accident" we say tiger stayed home to take a nap because he was tired.     I don't think Owen realized that his father's favorite animal was the tiger; I think this stuffed animal just showed up around his birthday, and he started asking for it. It seems to me that most kids have some "comfy" habit...sucking thumbs, sucking a pacifier, twirling hair, carrying around a blanket or a stuffy. Owen is no different. Except, it isn...

   It was always an easy gift to get...yellow roses, some wonderful chocolates, a charcuterie assortment, a pedicure for the both us, and time spent together. The time was her favorite. But, this year, no yellow roses, no chocolates, no charcuterie assortment, no pedicure, and most felt...no time spent together.    I can't say I have been looking forward to this day. But, it came anyway. In 37 years, I didn't think I would be motherless so soon in life. It's been 8 months, 37 weeks, 262 days, and 6,294 hours since she left me motherless. Just 2 weeks after Claire was born...she left.    My husband, children, wonderful friends, and father have gone out of their way to make this day a bit more bright. Thinking of me a little more today. Not because I am a mother, but because I no longer have mine.   But lately, when I think about her, I get angry. Not necessarily angry at her-she would have fought tooth and nail to stay, but angry nonetheless. Why? Maybe...

  When I was pregnant with Owen, mom took me, just days before his birth, to get a pedicure. She and I always enjoyed getting our nails and feet done, and this was her treat to me. This time, with Claire, was no different. Mom took me on August 6th to get my "pre-birth" pedicure. I chose a bright pink because bright colours make your skin look more tan.   Mom always said her polish lasted a long time because she didn't wear many closed-toe shoes. Mine didn't. I wear steel-toed boots and closed-toe shoes everyday.    This time is different. I have just a sliver of polish left. The last vintage of the time she and I sat in the massage chairs next to each other talking about how things were going to change with a new baby.    We laughed at the thought of Owen and his new baby sister. We smiled at the thought of me groggily waking each morning getting nothing but a few moments of sleep. We basked in the moments of just being there with each other.   I told...

  There's a song, by Superchick, I used to binge when Andy died. The first time my mom heard it she looked at me and said, "They wrote this about you."   "She never slows down.   She doesn't know why   But she knows that when she's all alone,   Feels like its all coming down   She won't turn around   The shadows are long and she fears if she cries.    that first tear,   The tears will not stop raining down" I'll admit it, I've barely cried for mom. Most certainly a lot less than I ever imagined, and I think perhaps I am just waiting for the fall out. But, to experience a fall out, one has to be pushed to their literal brink.    Welp, I've hit it. I hit the wall. I hit the wall so hard, I'm a glob of goo running down slowly. And that first tear isn't stopping.    I'm laying beside my 5 week old, listening to my husband snore, (begging him to stop) running on 2 hours of sleep in the last 48, with a sick toddler in the o...

  It is customary in a eulogy to begin with a name, a date of birth, death date, those who have gone before and those who are left behind. However, mom does not deserve customary. So this letter is for her… Mom,     I feel like I am back here too soon. Once again, I am giving words about someone that I loved most who left me too early. Monday afternoon, I sat in front of Father Desmond and he asked me this, “Give me one thing that describes your mom.” I will admit I drew a blank. How could I take your entire life and micro focus it into one thing? How could I take you and break you down into a simple idea of one thing? I can’t.     I mean… How can anyone describe the North Star without seeing it? The only star that never rises or sets. The only star that is in the same place every night. The star that is the easiest to find and the one by which we navigate.  How can anyone describe a compass without using one? The most accurat e means to guide us ...

  It's something really...that moment of clarity. For the past 36 hours, I have been waiting for that moment. The one that makes it all just--fall in line.    I thought it would be the moment I was wheeled into the OR for my scheduled c-section. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to see if my daughter actually had hair. It wasn't. I thought it would be the moment I got to smell her breath to engulf the smell of life as I did her brother. It wasn't.    I just couldn't find it. And yet, for the last 36 hours all the wonderful little things I got to experience as I held my new little baby were leading up to the one I was missing.    You see...since I found out I was pregnant, I have been carrying around this deep-rooted sense of disinterest. Did I really want another baby? Did I actually want this? I had the perfect son who really had all the love I could hold. How would I ever love someone else as much as I loved him?    I didn't...

   If I knew that having a baby would be like this, I just might not have done it. If I knew that I would be void of every shred of energy molecule, I would have asked white boy if we could find an alternate route. If I knew that I would function at the basest of levels, such like a paramecium, I would have said this is not for me.   Now, I say these things having had a wonderfully easy pregnancy with my son. It was a breeze. I had no issues. Had it not been for the fact that I felt the hiccups and the occasional gymnastics routine while my stomach protruded outward, I wouldn't have known I was pregnant. All that to say...I was expecting another easy peasy pregnancy. Ha! I'm a flipping idiot.    I don't complain to throw in the face of all those who can't get pregnant. Or, even complain about what some would consider miniscule in comparison to what others have gone through. I do it because it is happening to me and I can't fix it. I complain because damnit...it ...