Friday, August 26, 2011

Another Reason To Dread Mixers

Some things that are hard:

1.  Harper going to kindergarten.  You might think I mean the sadness a lot of moms and dads experience as their babies march off to start their school career.  Nope.  I was okay with that.  Harper is doing half day kindergarten at a small school that also houses the preschool she went to.  She knew the teacher and a few friends in her class from going to school there the past two years.  The school only goes through second grade.  So really, it just feels like more of what we've been doing.  I didn't have too much of a moment on the first day.  What's hard about Harper going to school is that I love it there.  I think it is the most amazing kindergarten on the planet.  And I adored the preschool.  And Wavy wanted to go there so badly.  And this year she could have.  (Obviously) she won't now.  At back to school night I sat in Harper's tiny chair and listened to all of the great things that will happen there this year; my heart was sad.  I read the information the teacher handed out through blurry, tear filled eyes because I wanted to have both my girls in that wonderful place.  I wanted to be able to provide good things for Wavy.  But now someone else gets to.  I'm sad about it.

2.  Mixers.  Well let's get real.  Nobody likes these.  I'm talking about the awkward social experiences you sometimes have to participate in at the first of the year in a large group setting.  Things like say your name and a personality attribute that starts with the first letter of your name.  "I'm Molly and I'm mannerly." Yikes.  That was embarrassing just to write.  A lot of times these types of things involve information exchanges about your basic stats: family, job, where you live, hobbies, etc.  The bottom line (and what I could have said much more succinctly to be sure) is that I hate when people ask how many kids I have.  Or if we have kids.  Or any such question.  I hate the question because I hate the answer.  I can hardly bear to say "one."  It makes my stomach hurt, my mouth pinch tightly, and fills me with an almost overwhelming need to try to get to my bed and lay down on it.  My best answer is to say, "I have a five-year-old daughter."  True.  But it allows me to say the number "two" in my head.  Which also makes my stomach hurt, my mouth pinch tightly, and fills me with an almost overwhelming need to try to get to my bed and lay down on it.  Because while my heart belongs to two children only one really remains mine.  However, I still prefer that to thinking the answer is one.  That just doesn't seem right at all.

3.  Pictures of other peoples' families.  It makes me see that the mirrored image of my family is woefully empty.  Pictures with two or three children remind me that there is only one little girl standing in my pictures.  And there is a huge empty space right next to her.  

So some things are hard.  And that is okay.  I can handle that most of the time.  We have come to realize that while the longing for our daughter causes great suffering, it will not undo us.  We look to God and He carries us through.  Our family and friends support us.  We can have hard days.  We also have better days.  There is absolutely no point to this post.  It is just me chronicling this loss.  If you're still reading I am sorry this was heavy tonight.  It's just what is on my mind.  Thanks for being here. :)


Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Some Happiness

During the long months that have brought us up to now I have cried buckets.  We have felt completely destroyed, lain through many sleepless nights, felt physically ill as we missed our sweet one, and suffered agonizing loss.  One thing that I realized during this time was why creature comforts are called just that.  There is something amazing to me about how much certain pick-me-ups can help me get through a ridiculously hard moment/day/afternoon/whatever.  I am not downplaying the extreme importance of the  things that matter most in my life.  I just thought I would share a few of the simple pleasures that can make me smile most of the time.  In no particular order:

*green tea lattes from Starbucks
*a great book
*a funny tv show like 30 Rock or Modern Family
*a weird sound my dog Parsley makes
*oatmeal made with cream and brown sugar
*a little green butter plate I keep my glasses on in the linen closet
*my gray toms
*a little present
*the way aveda products smell
*phad thai
*flowers in my house, especially zinnias from my friends' gardens
*running across a fun quote that I like
*getting an email that a book I requested at the library has come in
*the little gold owl on my desk
*good looking dish towels
*a pretty box of kleenex instead of the one that looks like hunter green or mauve marble (who wants those?)
*a letter in the mail, one dear friend always makes my day with these (xo to you KW)

What creature comforts do you most enjoy?  I might borrow them.

Saturday, August 20, 2011


Thanks so much to all of you who read our last post, are reading this now, and/or  have left encouraging comments.  It feels so great to know that people still care for our girl and our family.

As we start to head into our next adoption journey it seems like some have been a bit surprised that we are back at it again.  Family members asked if we were ready.  This was asked out of concern -- not out of condemnation.  We ARE indeed ready.  Not because we are done grieving or because we feel like we are ready to move on.  I can tell you that could not be further from the truth.  However, we are ready to experience a separate joy.  We are ready for more noise in our house, more tiny voices, more little things to lose in the wash, more sleepless nights, more carseats in the backseat.  Our family was meant to be bigger than three.  Our grief and our joy is not something that will line up next to each other on a continuum.  They are two separate things that we will experience at the same time.  Yes we miss our daughter desperately and whole heartedly; yes we are longing for a new love in our family.

We are working to finish our updated home study.  Then we will begin the process of signing up with an agency and beginning the wait to be matched with our next child.  This is exciting.  This makes me nervous.  This feels really right.  We would so love any prayers you have to offer on our behalf that this match would be made perfectly in every way.

I would also like to offer fair warning.  I really like adoption.  Like, a whole, whole lot.  So especially now that we are embracing it anew right now, you will probably hear many of the reasons why I think it is a lovely institution over the coming weeks.  But then again, if you're like me, this might just compel you to come back and keep reading.  (Because it's so awesome {adoption that is}.)


Sunday, August 14, 2011

I'm getting gutsy. Or stupid... I'll go with gutsy.

I think about this blog every day.  My gaze lingers on the link to it in my favorites bar every time I use this computer.  I often think about how much I loved the release I felt after posting and the comfort I received from the comments.  I have written out whole posts in my mind so many times.  But then I can't come to the site because I don't know how I'll do with the bombardment of pictures of Wave.

I do well when I am very much in control of the things I let myself think about, the memories I revisit and don't, the pictures in my house that I know and love.  But man do I get derailed by the unexpected: a picture of her I haven't seen of that I find at my parents' house, a voice in the store that sounds just like hers, an encounter with an acquaintance who doesn't know of our loss and asks how she is.  Anything really.  So I haven't trusted myself to come here.  But I've been gearing up for it.  And tonight I cautiously clicked on the link for the first time since February.

I read all of the comments on my last post and all of the comments on Matt's posts.  And here I am just typing away!  I am crying pretty good but man I have done it.  I saw a shirt at J.Crew recently that said "Small Victories" -- at least I think it did.  It was actually in French.  Which I don't speak.  But to me it said "small victories!" And since I like to draw all comfort from mass fashion retailers I took heart.  Just kidding.  But I really do think it is small victories that can really send me into forward motion.  Which is about all I'm asking for these days.  So yes, I'm writing a blog about writing this blog post.  I'm sure everyone is riveted!  (Sarcasm.)  It seems so risky.  While I can't be completely sure that this won't cause me more pain than gain I am feeling very brave.  Bravery is my small victory.

Ta da!