All Hallows Eve

Tomorrow.

So sad.

Why?

I was so excited that Halloween of 2004, walking through the local Walmart, forcing myself not to buy the little pumpkin costume that was winking beguilingly at me. I don't know what size to get, I thought, and convinced myself to wait until next year, when I knew how big he would be.

There was no Halloween costume next year.

The cyclical nature of our lives leaves a date/time stamp on the psyche, whether I like it or not. I had to stop today and figure out why I felt like bawling - even though I was holding the cutest little Monkey at the costume party. And there it was. No big brother to pull the Monkey's tail.

I wish my brain didn't work like this.

What kind of f------d up mother looks at the latest photos of her baby and thinks "That one would be a really good one for a memorial photo. It really captures his personality."

This kind of mother.

Oy.

I uploaded more pictures.

Just when...

... I start thinking that it is time to jump off a cliff, if only to end up in the hospital for a few days of sleep, Baby has a decent nap.

What a sporadic good/bad sleeper I have on my hands.

All I could think of while I rocked him to sleep today was: SO WHAT if sleep experts think babies should fall asleep on their own. Even though my bad back is getting worse, even though I don't get anything done, and even though I am just as often resentful of having to put him to sleep - I get to hold his beautiful, sleeping little body in my arms and rock, rock, rock. Love, love, love.

Only about 90% of the time does my mind wander to another little boy who might have liked to rock.

Is it possible for the soul to burst with love for two boys; one very much the light of our lives and one the gaping hole in our hearts?

Quite possibly the cutest baby in the entire world.

Just to clarify, I am not about to drop my drawers, shanghai my husband, and make a baby. Just getting ready to think about making a decision to board the roller coaster again. Because any pregnancy in this house still would qualify as A Very Big Deal.

Now, though I have mentioned that BB is indescribably cute, I feel that I must attempt to describe it anyway. Here's the thing: everywhere we go, people stop in their tracks, stare, and exclaim in tones of disbelief at how cute he is. They inform me that he has dimples and that he has teeth (because I most certainly hadn't noticed on my own). "How adorable! Is he always this happy?" they query. (Yes). They wax poetic at the blondness of his hair and the blueness of his eyes and the chubbiness of his hands and the sweetness of his expression. He flirts and he charms everyone he sees.

I almost feel guilty for not having tried to make him the next G*erber baby.

I have become convinced that he really is as cute as I think he is. Because I am, of course, his mother - thus, completely prejudiced on this particular subject. His grandmother agrees with me.

P.S. I added some video at the other site (you must email for the location). Please comment. I think that much of the cuteness is personality. It is hard to capture in a picture...

Ready? Twitching...

Up until now, there has been no real necessity to make a decision. I wasn't ovulating, therefore, no need to choose a date.

I look at this incredibly perfect and indescribably cute boy that we have created and I know with a vast amount of certainty that there is going to have to be another child in this house. And I realize that there is only one way for us to get there.

Despite maintaining a public facade of having misgivings about the issue, my mind is actually made up. There will be another child. And I think that my husband would agree on that point - but we haven't spent a lot of time discussing it. No ovulation, no need to discuss.

Naturally, I would prefer children close in age. Which implies that we shouldn't allow too many more eggs to go gently into that good night. Considering our history of "13th try's the charm", we will likely face a year or so of trying, anyway.

33 months and one successful subsequent pregnancy are having an insulating effect from the terror that I would expect to feel at the prospect of procreating again. We now need to decide when we feel that the timing would be right (and the comfort level high enough) to start walking this harrowing path yet again.

Maybe this is just the luteinizing hormone talking.

How the heck did we get here?

I am ovulating. And we are not going to do anything about it.

Weird.

Words for October 15th

What follows is the reflection that I shared on Saturday. I thank Julian's Mom for the Robert Frost poem. I will take down this post soon, so that no one who heard me speak will be able to link me to this blog.



[Email me for the text]

Remembrance

Yesterday we went to our annual Walk to Remember. I cried more that I think I ever have at one of these functions. I am more of a private cryer. I spoke - through a surprising haze of tears. I might post a copy of what I said if I work up the courage...

Candles lit for C., for Julian, for Nicolas, for Stewart, for these twins, for these twins, for this baby. And one for every other baby that I read about, think about, and care about his/her parents. Frankly, if I lit a candle for every baby that I have held in my heart, there wouldn't have been any left for anyone else to light.

Sarcasm

To the person who ran this search and arrived here:

Soooo sorry we couldn't help you with that.

I feel sick.

Random

We have been awfully busy around our house. BB just finished his first set of swimming lessons, we went to visit family for the Thanksgiving long weekend, and I have reread the whole Harry Potter series.

Today I had to fill in a form for BB's music class.
"Child's Position in the Family: ____ of ____"

I put "1 of 1". Didn't feel like putting "2 of 2 but his brother is dead", for some reason. It took a lot of thought, though, before I filled it in. What do I want to do, where do I want to go with this?

I am starting to find myself feeling more frightened that BB is going to die in his sleep. I don't know why this is happening now - perhaps his preference for tummy sleeping? I don't know. It isn't very much fun, though.

Comment this weekend: "How nice we can all be together for Thanksgiving. It is just sad that Grandpa Bob couldn't be here - he is the only one missing!" Ummmmm?

BB looks so like his brother. A blessing and a curse.

I wish I had something more profound to write.