Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy (?) New Year's!

I read a lot of blogs, and as the year comes to a close, many of them are doing some sort of "Year in Review" post.  I'm not going to do that; her or on The Great Cakescapade.  Why?  Because 'm not looking back, only forward.  Closing the door, completely, on 2012 will be the best thing I can do to get 2013 off to a good start.

I gave up on making resolutions several years ago.  Instead, I've just tried to be better and do better than the year before.  Last year, I made a vision board.  A vision board is a visual collage to motivate you for the year.  I'll be doing that again this year, only I plan to kick it up a notch from the cut up magazine page version I made last year.  I also plan to do some journaling.  I like the idea of a gratitude journal, where you write down one thing for which you are grateful every day.  I also like the Project Life items, and the idea of capturing your life throughout the year, but want a more free form approach.  I have a few ideas in mind, and plan to work on my 2013-book-of-whatever tomorrow.  If I like what I come up with, I may share bits and pieces here.

I also plan to live by the following Maya Angelou quote:

                    "I can be changed by what happens to me.  I refuse to be reduced by it".

Here's to a Happy 2013, and may your wishes, hopes, dreams, and prayers come true!  See ya next year!

Tuesday, December 25, 2012


"Christmas just ain't Christmas, without the one you love." -- The O'Jays

Friday, December 21, 2012

Walking in Someone Else's Shoes

In my last post, I posted a the poem "My Shoes", and how no one willingly wears the shoes of a mother who's lost a child.  This is true.  But last night, I really and truly realized that you never know what it's like to walk in someone else's, anyone else's shoes.

Last night, I went to a cookie exchange party, and despite my intentions to not "do" the holidays this year, had a good time.  Obviously, cookies make everything better.  Anyway, as things were winding down, someone asked the host how a mutual friend/acquaintance of all the attendees was doing since giving birth recently.

I'll stop right here to be perfectly honest.  I was due to have Morgan just four days after she was to have her twins.  When it was time for me to go back to school, I dreaded seeing her around.  And, there has been more than one occasion in the past five months that I've been extremely jealous and asked, "Why me?  Why not her?"  After all, two women, three babies; more than enough to go around, right?  I have always known these kinds of thoughts were mean, and spiteful.  I truly wouldn't wish the loss of a baby on anyone.  Those feelings came from my own anger and despair, and weren't "real" feelings, if you will.

I figured this question about the new babies would come up at some point in the evening, and was kind of prepared for it.  I wasn't prepared for the answer.  It turns out that she's having a really tough time, both emotionally and physically.  On the one hand, I felt bas as anyone would when hearing that kind of news.  And on the other hand, I really felt bad knowing the little ball of negative emotions I've harbored toward this woman...her growing belly...her growing family.

And it's not just her.  Every pregnant woman I see, or every woman with a baby, I can always find at least one reason why she shouldn't be a mom, but I should.  Last week, either in the airport or on the train home, I encountered three women with infants, and wondered "Why them, not me?"  The woman with the full five-o-clock shadow?  Surely, her hormones are imbalanced.  The 3-generational family on the train with a toddler and small infant out at 10pm in the cold?  Were they really able to provide properly for their child?  The couple at the airport, preparing to take their tiny newborn daughter, still curled into the fetal position on an airplane?  Didn't they know all of the germs and coughing on a plane would make her sick?  After an afternoon of "Why them, not me?", instead of greeting my husband with a big hug and kiss, I burst into uncontrollable tears at the curb. While I would have loved to have walked in the shoes of any of these women to complete my own pregnancy and bring my baby home, walking in their shoes would also mean going through whatever else they went through to get pregnant and bring their babies home, and also whatever issues they may now be dealing with.

As I've tried to work through these feelings many times over the past few months, my husband has tried over and over to tell me that I don't know these people's stories.  I don't know what goes on on the other side of their front door.  And that is so true.  You might think the grass is greener, but that might just be astroturf.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

"My Shoes"

My feet hurt.  Not literally, but figuratively.  I've heard this poem read, and just came across it in print. Wearing these shoes hurts, even when sitting.  Especially when sitting in an airport, waiting to go home after a maternal and child health conference where I AM the sad statistics presented.  Especially when sitting in an airport, and every happy family with a little baby girl wants to sit right next to me or directly across from me.

I don't know who the original author of this poem is, and I google it to find "Author Unknown".  But I, too, wear these shoes.

My shoes... I am wearing a pair of shoes. They are ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes. I hate my shoes. Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair. Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step. Yet, I continue to wear them. I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy. I can tell in other's eyes that they are glad they are my shoes 
and not theirs. They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off. I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in them so that they don't hurt quite so much. Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt. No woman deserves to wear these shoes. Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything. They have made me who I am. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Monday, December 3, 2012

This Time Last Year

It was this time last year that we officially started trying to have a baby.  We were so excited and optimistic that by the same time in 2012, we'd be parents.  We ARE parents, but it's just not the same when your baby's not with you...