Perhaps this has happened to you--you are in a store or at a playground or whatever and someone makes a comment about your family structure, however your structure is. For example, my friend Karen who has two boys followed by a girl, often gets comments like, "Oh--you finally got a girl!" as if "getting" a girl was the whole point of having children in the first place. I often get the opposite; I "finally" got a boy. Usually I can just smile and nod--there is no need to point out that my "finally got" was actually four years, one stillbirth and two miscarriages later. We didn't finally get a boy, we finally got a living, breathing, healthy baby to add to our family. There is a big difference! Now, of course, sometimes...just sometimes...when the person saying it is particularly irritating or being snide, I'll tell them the whole truth. "At least you finally got a boy this time," they'll say. "Actually, since our last baby died, we were simply hoping for living this time." I know, it is petty and mean, but it shuts them up and, like I said, I only use that line when someone has really ticked me off.
Anyway, now that I "finally have a boy" people are always asking me about the differences between the girls and Evan. To be honest, I think most of the differences I have noticed thus far are due to different personalities and birth order. Erin was also a very high energy, excited, climbing, little bundle of trouble...but the difference there was that when she was this age, she was an only child. One kid, two parents. We didn't realize how easy we had it! Evan, on the other hand, is often found in something, on something or up something--is this because he is a boy or because, frankly, we aren't always paying attention? Who knows.
He does have a strong affinity for Daddy's lawn mower. He likes to climb on it and sit at the wheel. When I can't find Evan, I always check the garage--he's probably on the tractor! Is it because he's a boy? Does the Y chromosome carry some kind of tractor magnet on it? I have no idea. But he loves that tractor...almost as much as he loves pushing dolls in the pink baby stroller.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
What's In A Name?
As you can imagine, pregnancy is a time of great joy and anticipation for most families. Is it a boy? A girl? Will she have his eyes? Will he have her hair? Couples pick out color schemes for the perfect nursery, buy clothes and cloth diapers and probably even a toy or two. Can you remember that time? Can you remember all the things you wanted to give your baby?
When your baby dies, you get to give them one thing--a name. I will never forget the conversation I had with my dear friend, Carol, when we were talking about this very thing. Carol found out that her daughter was not alive a few hours before she was born. Between the time they found out and the time she was born, Carol admitted to her husband that she didn't want to "use up" the name they had picked out. It was her absolute favorite name and, in that void between being a mom, not really knowing what it is to be a mom and hold your baby, and the knowledge that her baby was not alive...well, she was understandably confused about using the name. But her husband stood firm and told her that this baby was the same baby they had named when she was alive, and that was who she was*. There was no doubt about it, the baby who was born was fully their daughter--their beautiful and perfect baby girl. Her name is Charlotte.
Sophie got her name in a different way--see, I have always wanted a little girl named Kathryn. Not sure why, but every time I got to name a girl, we never ended up on Kathryn. Chris wasn't into the "K" names for a while (they are/were so popular!) and the middle names we had picked out didn't seem to fit. But when I found out I was pregnant for the third time, I said to Chris, "If this is a girl, we will name her Kathryn." There was no doubt about it. But, of course, that isn't how things went. As things got worse that weekend, the last thing on our mind was what to name her--we were thinking more how to save her. And then it happened--all that emergency stuff I don't really like to talk about. It was during all that that I have this one memory--a memory so strong that when I close my eyes and think about it, I can remember the room, where everyone was, who was there, what it smelled like...but I was lying on the table and in front of me there was a little white baby. She was in profile, like you might see in an ultrasound picture, but she wasn't fuzzy or anything--she was perfectly clear. And very white, surrounded by a blackness that blocked out everything but her brightness. I won't say I was talking to her, but we were definitely communicating. As I'm writing this, I realize how crazy it sounds and how strange it all must seem to someone who didn't experience it first hand. So I'll skip it all and tell you that after our "communication" she floated away and under her profile, in the same bright light, were the words, Sophia Anne.
When I awoke some time later, I knew she was gone. My husband was there, holding my hand and I looked at him and said, "We are going to name her Sophia Anne." He just nodded (as if you would ever argue with a woman who has been unconscious!)
Months went by and I could not shake the guilt I felt for not naming her Kathryn. I mean, after all, what made her any less worthy of the name? If she had lived, that would have been her name...so why could I not bring myself to use it in death? Carol, similarly, feels some sadness at not being able to really use the name Charlotte--I mean, she never gets to yell across a playground, "Come on Charlotte, let's get home for dinner." or "Charlotte! Clean your room!" So in her mind, she also didn't get to use it the way she wanted (no duh!) Friends of mine who are devout say that I didn't name Sophie, God did, in that "vision" I had. Maybe. Like I said, I know what I experienced and I know how crazy it all sounds...but maybe.
So what does it come down to? Basically that neither Carol or I got what we wanted (obviously) and we both wrestle with this. But we both had these baby girls and we both got to give them one thing--a name. Charlotte Amelia and Sophia Anne. Beautiful names for two beautiful girls.
Imagine my surprise today when Erin came home from her first day at Theater Camp and said she had two new best friends--Charlotte and Sophia. So I ask you--what's in a name?
* Carol, forgive me if I'm paraphrasing in a way that isn't exactly true to your story.
When your baby dies, you get to give them one thing--a name. I will never forget the conversation I had with my dear friend, Carol, when we were talking about this very thing. Carol found out that her daughter was not alive a few hours before she was born. Between the time they found out and the time she was born, Carol admitted to her husband that she didn't want to "use up" the name they had picked out. It was her absolute favorite name and, in that void between being a mom, not really knowing what it is to be a mom and hold your baby, and the knowledge that her baby was not alive...well, she was understandably confused about using the name. But her husband stood firm and told her that this baby was the same baby they had named when she was alive, and that was who she was*. There was no doubt about it, the baby who was born was fully their daughter--their beautiful and perfect baby girl. Her name is Charlotte.
Sophie got her name in a different way--see, I have always wanted a little girl named Kathryn. Not sure why, but every time I got to name a girl, we never ended up on Kathryn. Chris wasn't into the "K" names for a while (they are/were so popular!) and the middle names we had picked out didn't seem to fit. But when I found out I was pregnant for the third time, I said to Chris, "If this is a girl, we will name her Kathryn." There was no doubt about it. But, of course, that isn't how things went. As things got worse that weekend, the last thing on our mind was what to name her--we were thinking more how to save her. And then it happened--all that emergency stuff I don't really like to talk about. It was during all that that I have this one memory--a memory so strong that when I close my eyes and think about it, I can remember the room, where everyone was, who was there, what it smelled like...but I was lying on the table and in front of me there was a little white baby. She was in profile, like you might see in an ultrasound picture, but she wasn't fuzzy or anything--she was perfectly clear. And very white, surrounded by a blackness that blocked out everything but her brightness. I won't say I was talking to her, but we were definitely communicating. As I'm writing this, I realize how crazy it sounds and how strange it all must seem to someone who didn't experience it first hand. So I'll skip it all and tell you that after our "communication" she floated away and under her profile, in the same bright light, were the words, Sophia Anne.
When I awoke some time later, I knew she was gone. My husband was there, holding my hand and I looked at him and said, "We are going to name her Sophia Anne." He just nodded (as if you would ever argue with a woman who has been unconscious!)
Months went by and I could not shake the guilt I felt for not naming her Kathryn. I mean, after all, what made her any less worthy of the name? If she had lived, that would have been her name...so why could I not bring myself to use it in death? Carol, similarly, feels some sadness at not being able to really use the name Charlotte--I mean, she never gets to yell across a playground, "Come on Charlotte, let's get home for dinner." or "Charlotte! Clean your room!" So in her mind, she also didn't get to use it the way she wanted (no duh!) Friends of mine who are devout say that I didn't name Sophie, God did, in that "vision" I had. Maybe. Like I said, I know what I experienced and I know how crazy it all sounds...but maybe.
So what does it come down to? Basically that neither Carol or I got what we wanted (obviously) and we both wrestle with this. But we both had these baby girls and we both got to give them one thing--a name. Charlotte Amelia and Sophia Anne. Beautiful names for two beautiful girls.
Imagine my surprise today when Erin came home from her first day at Theater Camp and said she had two new best friends--Charlotte and Sophia. So I ask you--what's in a name?
* Carol, forgive me if I'm paraphrasing in a way that isn't exactly true to your story.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Table Manners
We have always suggested to the kids that "No Elbows On The Table" is good manners, but not sure how to break the news to Evan. Though I'm thinking in a few years he won't be able to bend like that.....and in fairness, those aren't his elbows.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Summer Lists
Today the girls and I made a list--each day this summer we need to do:
Something Fun: This is self-explanatory
Something Kind: like to keep the house going--tidy a room, set the table, vacuum, put clothes away...things like that
Something Quiet: I said I put this on the list for Evan, but let's face it, it's for me too!
Something "Educational": which has a VERY broad definition, so that will be fun too, probably!
Anyway, today Erin was making our check-list, to make sure we hit everything. Something fun? We went to the playground. Something quiet? Erin read, Megan colored, I read and Evan napped. Something Educational? Erin wrote our list, Megan read a National Geographic Kids and the book I'm reading is very educational. Evan is always learning, so he kind of gets a free square here. We got to the part about something kind and Erin said, "I helped with the diapers." (This is true.) Megan said, "I'm helping make dinner!" (Also very true.) Evan was very cute, which we decided was kind to all of us. "Mom," Erin says, "what have you done kind today?" "Well, I washed the diapers, vacuumed the floor, made dinner, folded clothes, arranged a playdate for you two, filled up the pool...." "MOM!" she interrupted, "I'm only willing to write ONE thing, so pick ONE!"
Does this mean for the rest of the summer I can make the bed and call it good? I wonder.....
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Some pics
I wanted to put in some pictures of our trip--this one shows pretty well where we were--edge of the bay in the land of Thirty Thousand Islands. You can see why it is named that! Near as I can figure out, we were there looking at the interface between the pink rocks and the black rocks (see the bands on the island behind her?). We spent a lot of time sampling those two kinds of rocks....
Hey...a man has to eat, right?? Here is a picture of the black rocks we were looking at, with a nursing mom for scale (geologists like to have things for scale in their pictures!)
Evan, of course, took careful notes!
Erin was ready to swim at all times!
Hey...a man has to eat, right?? Here is a picture of the black rocks we were looking at, with a nursing mom for scale (geologists like to have things for scale in their pictures!)
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Has this ever happened to you? (UPDATED--I forgot one part)
So today Chris needed to go back to one island he didn't get to yesterday because of the wind and rain (the "seas" were too high to land the boat). We loaded everyone up in the boat for one last adventure out here and headed out. The sun was shining, the winds were light and everyone had gotten a good amount of sleep the night before (except me, but let's face it, it would take a miracle for a Mama to get enough sleep, right?). Positive vibes were everywhere and it was going to be a beautiful day!
We get onto the island and begin exploring when BLAM--Erin falls on a rock and skins her knee pretty well. While Chris is running back to get the first aid kit, he nearly falls into the water on a loose rock. As I fix Erin up (this process involved duct tape even!), Chris begins to get his samples--then Megan yells, "I have to go poop!" (we are on an island of ROCK here). Chris puts down his hammer and helps her to a place that would do the least ecological damage (there was just enough soil to bury it--and no, I don't want to get into a debate about burying vs. carrying...we've researched this issue thoroughly and make our choices based on our surroundings). Erin decides her knee hurts too much so she goes back to the boat to wait while Chris begins to pound again on the sample. I'm in a small rock pool with Evan when both Chris and I hear, "HELP!" Chris drops his hammer and races to the boat on the other side of the island. I race to find Megan who was hanging from a rock, unable to get up or down. I help her and Chris comes back with Erin who has decided to come help. He goes to get his sample. As the girls are coming to join me, Chris is yelling at Chester because, you guessed it, he's over eating Megan's poop. Suddenly Megan yells, "MOM! EVAN!" I turn around and less than 5 feet from me is my toddler, face down in the knee-deep puddle, slipping and sputtering, unable to get his footing (don't call DHS, folks, I had turned my back for a millisecond--he wasn't really in danger of drowning). I jump over a rock and pull him out (he's fine!) while Megan falls and gets her ankle wedged between some rocks. Now Evan is crying because he is saturated and cold, Megan is crying because her ankle hurts, Erin is limping over rocks with duct tape on her knee and Chris STILL hasn't gotten his samples. I took Evan's clothes off and dried him off. While I'm attending to Megan, Erin is labeling samples for Chris (see? We ARE helpful!) and I turn to look at Evan and guess what? Yup...he's back in the big puddle, totally naked and happy as a clam. Guess what else? Yup, he pooped in it.
So THEN, Chris finished getting his samples (after, of course, cleaning the poop out of the water), we all went back to the boat, and we all lived happily ever after .
Until dinner time when the kids all started to whine. This was followed by packing time because we are headed home tomorrow...and, of course, packing means the arrival of Packing Man (who looks a lot like my husband, but he's focused on one thing and one thing ONLY)
We get onto the island and begin exploring when BLAM--Erin falls on a rock and skins her knee pretty well. While Chris is running back to get the first aid kit, he nearly falls into the water on a loose rock. As I fix Erin up (this process involved duct tape even!), Chris begins to get his samples--then Megan yells, "I have to go poop!" (we are on an island of ROCK here). Chris puts down his hammer and helps her to a place that would do the least ecological damage (there was just enough soil to bury it--and no, I don't want to get into a debate about burying vs. carrying...we've researched this issue thoroughly and make our choices based on our surroundings). Erin decides her knee hurts too much so she goes back to the boat to wait while Chris begins to pound again on the sample. I'm in a small rock pool with Evan when both Chris and I hear, "HELP!" Chris drops his hammer and races to the boat on the other side of the island. I race to find Megan who was hanging from a rock, unable to get up or down. I help her and Chris comes back with Erin who has decided to come help. He goes to get his sample. As the girls are coming to join me, Chris is yelling at Chester because, you guessed it, he's over eating Megan's poop. Suddenly Megan yells, "MOM! EVAN!" I turn around and less than 5 feet from me is my toddler, face down in the knee-deep puddle, slipping and sputtering, unable to get his footing (don't call DHS, folks, I had turned my back for a millisecond--he wasn't really in danger of drowning). I jump over a rock and pull him out (he's fine!) while Megan falls and gets her ankle wedged between some rocks. Now Evan is crying because he is saturated and cold, Megan is crying because her ankle hurts, Erin is limping over rocks with duct tape on her knee and Chris STILL hasn't gotten his samples. I took Evan's clothes off and dried him off. While I'm attending to Megan, Erin is labeling samples for Chris (see? We ARE helpful!) and I turn to look at Evan and guess what? Yup...he's back in the big puddle, totally naked and happy as a clam. Guess what else? Yup, he pooped in it.
So THEN, Chris finished getting his samples (after, of course, cleaning the poop out of the water), we all went back to the boat, and we all lived happily ever after .
Until dinner time when the kids all started to whine. This was followed by packing time because we are headed home tomorrow...and, of course, packing means the arrival of Packing Man (who looks a lot like my husband, but he's focused on one thing and one thing ONLY)
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Island Update
Summary:
Megan is Explorer Girl, sitting in the bow of the boat with her face in the wind and her blond curls blowing around. Landing on an island, she is first to jump out and point out the shapes of the rocks and find the best swimming hole.
Erin is Cautious Girl, sitting low in the boat so it won't rock too much, making sure the anchor is tightly wedged in the rocks before setting off and then laughing as she leaps from rock to rock, finding just the right place to collect treasures.
Evan is Daddy's Little Geologist, following him with "Dada, Dada, DADA!" and of course, his new favorite, "boatboat" (said as one word).
All are enjoying life on the island! I'll try to supplement this post tonight with pictures.
Megan is Explorer Girl, sitting in the bow of the boat with her face in the wind and her blond curls blowing around. Landing on an island, she is first to jump out and point out the shapes of the rocks and find the best swimming hole.
Erin is Cautious Girl, sitting low in the boat so it won't rock too much, making sure the anchor is tightly wedged in the rocks before setting off and then laughing as she leaps from rock to rock, finding just the right place to collect treasures.
Evan is Daddy's Little Geologist, following him with "Dada, Dada, DADA!" and of course, his new favorite, "boatboat" (said as one word).
All are enjoying life on the island! I'll try to supplement this post tonight with pictures.
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