Teeny....Weeny...Hats!

Merrrrry Christmas to all and to all a good.......hat? Yes! Santa is bringing "teeny weeny hats" (name that Muppet Movie from which I stole the quote for bonus points!) to some teeny weeny preemies this year, and I'm acting as elf. As in I'm makng them all but letting the fat man take credit. No wonder Hermie wanted to be a dentist! I kid, I kid. :)

But seriously - once my spontaneous Christmas quilt was finished my fingers were itching for something else to make. And just as spontaneously as the quilt came about - so did a plan to knit a preemie hat to include in each of my family members' gifts this year and then donate to the NICU in their name. Though it would be my preference, I know that switching to an only charity gifts system in my family would NOT go over  well. So I decided to play within the system and do a little of both. And I loved makeing these little guys - so quick and satisfying! I hope they add comfort to some sick little babies and their tired and worried families.

Accomplishments

This is a 5 Year Journal post. The goal is to answer a simple journal prompt each day of the year as a real record of daily life in this moment. 

January 14: What did you accomplish today?


I caught up with my parents over lunch - just me and them. :)

Dinner Bell

This is a 5 Year Journal post. The goal is to answer a simple journal prompt each day of the year as a real record of daily life in this moment.  

January 13: What did you have for dinner?

We met Randy’s parents, brother and sister at Longhorn for dinner. Randy and I were such model health citizens in that den of calorie iniquities. We both had a grilled chicken breast topped with a garlic mushroom sauce and a stuffed portobello, served with grilled green beans and a side salad, all for less than 750 calories. Win.

So Christmas has come and gone and part of me wants to write a moving and comprehensive composition about the emotions involved in our first post-treatment holiday season. But a bigger part of me is tired. And lazy. And content to leave the bulk of those emotions trapped in their little hiding spot - a spot which has become more reliable as a holding cell over the past few months, allowing me many greatly needed days of peace. But a spot, nonetheless, which still has only tenuous control over the monster it contains and must be closely monitored. Wow - those last two sentences took a turn I wasn't expecting. Anyway, back in sanity-land, as I was saying - the bigger part of me - the lazy part is winning out. So I'm going to go for a minimalist approach and try to sum it all up with one photo and a short description:

 This is Daniel and me on Christmas day. And yes - he is wearing a Santa suit, in case you were wondering. It was a blast watching him experience his first Christmas. It was also exhausting watching him experience his first Christmas. Or rather, it was exhausting watching everyone watch him experience his first Christmas - wishing I had gotten to experience it as a parent rather than an aunt. Feeling relegated to a life of being the next best thing. Worried that I don't matter as much as I would if I brought a child to the mix. Ashamed of myself for worrying about it. And the cycle goes on and on.

So to sum up: Christmas was about 80% fun/cozy/happy/relaxing and only about 20% anxiety/longing/aching/less-than-ness. I'd call that a success. 

Words

I have always found comfort in words. Reading them, writing them, hearing them, and dissecting them. I'm pretty certain I was the only one in my high school class who was regularly reprimanded for submitting papers that were too long. When I needed a self confidence boost a few years back, my solution was to start this blog - a place to write words. And today it was words spoken and written by friends and family that carried me through. Thank you to everyone in my life who has reminded me that I am a mother on this day that has been looming over me like a storm cloud for weeks now. I am humbled by the understanding and empathy poured out to me by so many people. As much as I love words, I don't think I could possibly convey how healing it is for my soul. The thoughtful Facebook messages, texts, blog comments, and e-mails really helped keep my head above water this weekend. And the following just blew me away:

Flowers from Randy's parents with one of the kindest and most impactful messages I've ever received.





A gift from my parents filled with healing words - some that I'll share here and some that I'll keep for myself. The card that accompanied the gift made me cry immediately - but its a cry I wanted to have and a card I'm SO glad I got.



The card came with a couple of very thoughtful gifts, one of which featured more healing words. This necklace, accompanied by  this message:





My oldest friend, Mandi, sent me this card (and a little hope pocket charm), which is so refreshingly straightforward with no trite promises or cliched platitudes.



Perhaps though, my favorite words from this card were the ones she wrote inside which I hope she doesn't mind me sharing here: Mother's Day must feel like getting kicked in the emotional nuts. Yes - it does - and I'm so lucky to have friends and family who get it.

Care Package

My parents have lifted me out of countless pits in the past. They cannot rescue me from infertility and miscarriage and I know this eats them up. They don't like to see their children suffer and they also mourn for their grandchildren who will never be. Though they can't fix this problem for us, they are great at showing their love and concern in practical ways. Last night they dropped off a care package - something to brighten our day and help us escape for a little while.



All the fixings for a movie night, including jammies for both of us.

Things like this get us through a yucky evening - less because of the content and more because of the comforting knowledge that they took the time to do something nice in our time of need. It helps more than they could ever know.

I'd Blog.....

I'd blog and tell you about the eventful week we've had, but the estrogen is making me feel like a shell of a person who doesn't care about blogging. I have zero motivation for just about anything, including writing. So instead I think I'll just sit here and stare at the lovely lanterns Randy's parents (and brother and sister) brought over to help bring a bit of brightness to our lives during this dim period. They are helping. :)

Part 2: March Forth

Time marches on, unconcerned with grieving and readiness. Time will march on without you. Time has marched on without me for a while now. Today I'm catching up.

I became an aunt at 7:14 today. An occurrence the approach of which has terrified and exhausted me and entrapped my emotions for the past 7 months.  I've built it up in my imagination to mythical proportions and placed undue amounts of significance on the anticipated moment. My heart ached every time I thought of seeing my parents as first-time grandparents to a baby other than my own. I imagined the moment my mother saw her first grandchild as life-changing and able to be matched by nothing ever - not the birth of any future baby of mine and certainly not my adoption of a child. The latter fear gripped my mind for the better part of the afternoon, even as I was sending jovial texts back and forth to my sister as she was in her hospital bed waiting to push her child into the world.

And then it happened. And I lived. And reality was much less magical than my imagination. People were happy - it was a wonderful event - but it was not the mythical fantasy I had feared. I have a nephew. He's a real person who is a part of our family now. I'm one of only two aunts he'll ever have. He's not just someone else's baby - he's my nephew. He will never fill the gap left by my own lost children - he is not my child - but he will fit into my life exactly the way he is meant to. And I will be his Auntie Kimmie.



Me and Daniel

Originally I felt like the only way I could make a hospital visit was if Randy and I could be there alone with my sister, brother-in-law, and baby. I didn't think I could handle seeing my parents or grandparents there and possibly not even friends of my sister that i don't even know. I needed some privacy. Luckily, my parents are angels and understood this implicitly. They had me text them when we got to the hospital and they retreated to the family waiting room to give us the space we needed. After a while I felt like I could handle it, so I invited them in. We ended up staying for 3 hours. I finally felt a part of the family again, and it was such a relief. Infertility is hard enough, but having it rob you of family is a crushing blow. Things will never be the same as they used to, but today was a glimpse of how we might cobble together a new family reality.

I don't attribute tonight's success to any supernatural or magical forces. I think it is born of months of therapy, the support of an amazing family, and the transition from having a pregnant sister to having a sister and a nephew. I have long anticipated that things would get much better once the baby was born, as it has in similar situations with my pregnant friends. Every woman experiencing infertility has her triggers - the certain things that are particularly soul-crushing to her. For me, its pregnancy more than babies. This is not because I want to be pregnant more than I want a baby. I think its because a pregnancy is the first step down that road, my next step - my elusive goal. I can't even fathom the baby part because its so far away and seems so unattainable to me right now. Just getting to the pregnancy has defined my life for five long years. And also, now that the baby is born he's not just a reminder of my failures and struggles and illness - he's my nephew. He's here. And I'm going to get to know him.