The Time, She Flies

"Enjoy your kids, the time goes so fast!" this is a phrase that any parent of young children is sure to hear often. Kids grow and change quickly and so are amazing time markers.Here is a series of pictures showing how much our lives have changed since 2012.

Sibling hug 2012 & 2013

Halloween 2012 & 2013

Dinosaur ride 2012 & 2013

Reading with Daddy 2012 & 2013

Toddler bed 2012 & 2013

A Difficult Road to Motherhood: 2nd Term Pregnancy Loss

Originally written July 23, 2013

I got pregnant for the very first time in 2008. Around Thanksgiving I was only 5 weeks or so along, but my husband and I decided to share our news with our immediate families even though we knew it was probably early for such announcements. Things progressed well, and by Christmas we made announcements at the large extended-family gatherings. We had our first ultra-sound and everything looked good. By January 2009 I was officially in the second trimester and went to see Barack Obama inaugurated as President. On that trip I bought my first maternity clothes at a mall in Maryland. In March we went on a vacation in Florida and I happily wore maternity clothes to show off my growing bump. When we got home we had our big ultrasound appointment to look forward to. We were so excited to find out if we were having a boy or a girl! I was 22 weeks along at the time of that appointment.

The day before the big ultrasound I started getting nervous. I hadn't felt many movements up to that point, and suddenly I felt movement that just didn't feel right. At the ultrasound, the doctor brought our baby up on screen but wasn't saying anything, just moving the sensor around for several minutes as we pointed out features we could recognize by ourselves. Then she quietly said she was going to find another doctor to look because she couldn't find the heartbeat. My heart was sinking because I already feared the baby was dead the night before, but denial is a strong emotion. The second doctor came in and confirmed that there was no heartbeat. I didn't know how to react, so I don't think I did much of anything. I was numb. I feared that somehow I had caused the baby's death. The doctor said I could go to the hospital that day to be induced if I wanted to, but I said no because it was all too much.

Later that day I changed my mind. The idea that my body had become my baby's tomb was too unsettling. I checked into the hospital at noon the next day, by midnight our baby girl was delivered. I was medicated with morphine which helped numb both the physical and emotional pain. It was devastating for my husband and I to go through labor without a newborn's cries as the reward for all the hard work. The onslaught of nurses, residents, social workers, and doctors asking us questions about naming our baby, burying our baby, and other topics we couldn't even begin to digest 24 hours after learning our baby died, made the experience even worse.

We wanted to hide just the two of us, we cried a lot. Suddenly it seemed like every tv show and commercial featured pregnancy or babies. It just seemed cruel. Even seeing friends' young children was hard. An autopsy showed that our baby, who we named Delia, had Turner's syndrome, a chromosomal defect that only affects girls. Many babies with Turner's syndrome don't survive to birth due to heart defects. That was the case with Delia.

It was hard facing well-meaning relatives who made well-intentioned comments that were just hurtful, or intrusive. I struggled with wanting people to acknowledge our loss without telling us "it was for the best" because of her disability, or prying too deeply into our crisis. To deal with everything I did a lot of reading online about stillbirth and late-term miscarriages and grieving those losses. Then in April, three weeks after Delia was delivered, I had a delayed postpartum hemorrhage and lost half my blood volume. It was insult added to injury and I felt scared and lost. I didn't trust my own body. I went to see a therapist, and fortunately after about 6 sessions I started to feel more like myself. Several weeks after losing Delia and recovering from the hemorrhage we had a graveside burial for her with our immediate families in attendance. She is buried with my father, her grandfather. It provided some closure and we could begin to really heal.

By June 2009, 3 months after losing Delia, I was pregnant again--excited but very cautious--worried that we would lose this baby too. We didn't tell anyone until the second trimester this time, and even then I didn't talk openly about my pregnancy. I felt awkward when strangers would ask "Is this your first baby?" and I felt like a liar when I answered "yes" just to avoid sharing my story. No one likes to talk about pregnancy loss. Luckily, I found an amazing OBGYN who treated me and my husband with tremendous empathy and she got us through our angst. Happily, one year and four days after delivering Delia, her brother was born!

I still think about Delia and her short existence. I have a mother's necklace that has a gemstone for her as well as ones for her brother and sister. Delia's stone changes color. In sunlight it's green, in the absence of sunlight it's purple. Whenever I meet a little girl named Delia I pause to think about what my Delia would have been like had she lived. She would have turned 4 this past summer. But time heals all wounds, and she will forever be in my heart.

I share this story not for your sympathy, but to bring stories like this out of the shadows. To remind people that pregnancy, unfortunately, doesn't always have a happy ending--sometimes it is absolutely tragic. For those who had a hard time becoming a mother, or who are still struggling, you are not alone, and there is hope that you will still have the family you want.

Co-sleeping

Ah, co-sleeping. Nurturing. Bonding.

Ugh. Co-sleeping. Kicks to the head, face, stomach, and back.

My son co-slept a little bit as a newborn. Usually if he was in bed with us he was safe in his snuggle nest, a little bed just for baby that fits in your own bed. Then he graduated to his crib. When we moved to our new house he co-slept until he felt more settled in the new space. Often he would start thrashing in the middle of the night so I'd transfer him to his crib and he slept beautifully until morning.

My daughter co-slept more from the beginning. After her first couple weeks she slept in a bassinet for a while. Around 6 months all her good sleep habits flew out the window and she was in bed with us all night. Recently, she did a brief stint in her crib, but eventually she refused even to do that. Back in the bed she came. She slept well until the wee hours of the morning and then would start thrashing, but forget the crib, that is torture in her view.

Then her brother--never wanting to be left out of anything--started coming in during the middle of the night too. I had to persuade him to sleep towards the foot of the bed (like the dog) so he wouldn't get kicked by his sister. I had a couple nights where I was half asleep and breaking up fights between my mostly asleep children kicking each other, while perched on the 8 inches of mattress my sprawling children afforded me. My husband retreated to a protective sleeping position with his head under the pillow to avoid kicks to the head by my daughter who took to sleeping perpendicular in the bed up where my pillow would normally go.

What our co-sleeping arrangement devolved into

Enough was enough. We converted the crib into the toddler bed and put little sister in big brother's bedroom. He was very excited to gain a roommate. I was excited for him to not sleep alone, but more excited for him to not sleep with me.

The first night of this arrangement went surprisingly well. Having no kids in the bed to kick me was the best thing ever. Let's hope this new sleeping routine sticks.

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My Daughter's First Baby Music Class

When my son was 1 year old we had fun going to baby classes together. Now that my he is in preschool, it is my daughter's turn. We signed up for Music Together at the Flynn Space. The timing of the class worked out perfectly and was one the only baby class I found that didn't interfere with preschool pickup. Flynn Space staff were especially accommodating and let us in the early class even though it was already full since I told them it was the only section that fit our schedule.

My 17 month old daughter wasn't so sure when we first walked in the room, but as soon as she saw the box of musical instruments in the middle of the rug on the floor she changed her mind. She grabbed a stick and an egg shaker and didn't let go. We had arrived early and all the other kids and moms (plus a dad) trickled in. The kids ranged in age from 1 to 3 years old. The teacher, Alison, was very warm and friendly. Half of the class was children she had already taught in a previous class, and half of us were newbies. Alison was very understanding of each child and their stage of development. She didn't mind if kids were wandering around the room, or refusing to give up a musical stick even when everyone else had already turned theirs in (that was my daughter on more than one occasion). She understands that kids learn in different ways and participate at different levels, but they are all still learning.

Alison, Music Together

The class started with a welcome song where each child's name was sung. Each child was given a nametag to wear, or for the parent to wear if the child was unwilling (once again this was my daughter). The class was nonstop action with songs with hand and finger movements. Then we would get up and walk, run, and tiptoe in a circle while singing. It was a combination of Alison singing a capella, and singing with recordings. She brought out percussion instruments for the kids to bang and shake, and scarves to dance and wiggle with.

My daughter loved it. She laughed and danced and participated to the best of her ability shaking percussion instruments in a rudimentary rhythm. Alison even noticed one of her actions during a song and incorporated it for the whole group to copy. By the time we got to the scarves dancing, she was getting hungry though. She picked up some scarves at first and waved them around. Then suddenly she dropped them and both signed and verbalized "all done."  "You're all done? Ok." I said, and picked her up to try and keep her scarf dancing a little longer. She was not impressed and ripped her nametag off my shirt, tossed it on the floor, and repeated her sign for "all done" followed by her sign for "hungry, eat!"

We muddled through the last few minutes of class, which ended with lights out and some quiet time while Alison sang a lullaby while accompanying herself with guitar, then a goodbye song. "Eat! Eat!" my daughter signed while making loud smacking noises with her mouth. "Ok, we're really all done now." I conceded.

Alison provided us all with books and a cd of the songs she teaches during class to bring home and learn. I think it's going to be a great class. Next time I will just be sure to make sure my daughter has a bigger snack beforehand.

Music materials provided by Music Together

The Homecoming After My First Kid-less Trip

Last month I left my kids for the first time since they were born. This was a big deal. Realistically speaking, I had every confidence that things would go fine in my absence. A few more tears at bedtime perhaps, but nothing my husband and/or mother-in-law couldn't handle.

I was scheduled to be gone for about 72 hours. The Climate Leadership Training kept me too busy to think about home that much. By the time I got back to my friend's house to sleep each night it was too late to call home and check in. The mornings were too busy, and the one hour time difference between Chicago and home didn't help either.

For my kids it was a treat to play with their grandmother all day (they adore her), then be with their father when he got home for dinner and bedtime. I got adorable pictures of them playing, and a video of my son saying "I love you, Mommy." and my daughter saying "Ma ma ma, Mama" in the same intonation. Melt my heart adorable! I sent back texts telling them I loved them and couldn't wait to see them.

On my last day in Chicago I called home and spoke to my son, telling him "I will be there when you wake up tomorrow." Shortly after that I received a robo-call from my airline that my flight was cancelled and my new flight would get me home TWO DAYS LATER!? I immediately thought of my son, who has the memory of an elephant. Suddenly, I had lied to him. Not intentionally of course, but I could not follow through on my promise. What sort of meltdown would this cause? Oh, Mommy guilt.

Thankfully I was able to get a flight the next day after all. I basked in comments from my husband expressing how he and the kids couldn't wait for me to get home. He left work to pick me up at the airport so he could see me himself before the kids "ate me up." I got home and both kids ran to me saying "Mama, Mama!" and gave me big hugs. Then, suddenly, my son broke into tears about a splinter in his foot. It was more than the splinter though, it was all the emotions he had experienced over the past four days, wondering where his mother was, bubbling to the surface. He talked about how he much he had missed me. I was glad I had bought him and his sister Chicago souvenirs to redirect some of his tearful energy. I assured him I had missed him and his sister greatly and wouldn't be going on another trip without them any time soon.

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Getting Ready: Leaving my kids for the first time

It's Sunday night and I'm sitting at my computer researching Chicago: researching transit options on how I will get around during my three-day whirlwind trip there for The Climate Reality Project's Climate Leadership Corp Training; and figuring out what I want to see during my one morning of sightseeing before the training starts. I'm excited to be in the same room as Al Gore and more than 1,000 other people who feel as passionately as I do that climate change is the biggest threat humanity faces. I'm excited to learn how to speak more articulately about it, and how to inspire others to get involved. I'm also just excited see Chicago, a city I've never been to except for the airport back in 1998. I'm excited to reconnect with old friends, albeit briefly, who have established roots there.

I'm also a bit nervous. Nervous to navigate a new city by myself, and to be in a large conference setting where I don't really know anyone. But the biggest reason is because I will be leaving my kids for the first time ever. It will be a shock to my system, as well as theirs, to be without them for 72 hours. I'm the kind of mom who, even after a difficult day when all I want is for them to just go to sleep already, will settle down after the bedtime routine is done and scroll through the pictures I took of them that day playing and smiling. They will be fine in the good care of their dad and grandmothers. I know we will all be better off for having a little time apart. They will quickly learn that Daddy, Grandma, and Nini can do many of the things for them that I do. It will be a chance for me to remember (or prove) that they can function without me for a few days. Afterall, one of the badges of a good parent is giving/allowing your child the self-confidence to be independent. It will also feel good to be an adult functioning in the adult world, and will give me renewed energy to come back home and be Mommy.

On Becoming a Stay at Home Mom

If you had asked me as a teenager what would I be doing with my life by my late 20s/early 30s, stay-at-home motherhood would not have come up. Discussions in my household growing up included things like becoming a flight attendant as a way to travel and see the world. My parents lived an international life between Germany and the US for their first several years together. We traveled to Germany and other places as a family when I was a kid. As a teen I grabbed every chance to travel more independently: a high school exchange to Germany, an environmental education trip to Kenya, and a semester traveling and camping throughout the Southeastern US with the Audubon Expedition Institute. I imagined this pattern would likely continue into adulthood.

Then a funny thing happened. I fell in love with a local boy. I really got to know and fell in love with the region that as a teen I only imagined leaving and trading it for bigger and better, more worldly places. Even so, my local boy and I started traveling together (St. Croix, Ireland, Paris). We moved cross country together, to Los Angeles, to pursue a masters degree and a law degree. These adventures, though great fun, only made us appreciate our little corner of Vermont more and we knew we wanted to come back.

Upon moving back, with a fresh masters degree (in urban planning) in hand, I married my local boy. We got jobs with steady incomes. Jobs that allowed us a new adventure of buying a ramshackle house and totally renovating it. We worked all day at our jobs, ate a quick takeout dinner in the conference room of my office, then went to work on our house in the dark, and freezing cold winter temperatures for a few hours each night and every weekend. It was quite romantic actually.

When the house was done we decided we wanted a baby. But by then it was fall of 2008 and the Great Recession started. I lost my job. I  looked for new work but was conflicted. Conflicted about interviewing for jobs I didn't know if I would keep because I didn't know what kind of mother I wanted to be. My mother was a stay at home mom, and so were many of my friends' mothers growing up, so it was a familiar path. Yet, I had just recently gotten my degree and felt like I had better use it. The economic crisis wasn't making finding work easy so I found a part time, temporary job while I was pregnant. When my son was born it just felt right to be home with him. I didn't want anyone else raising him. I didn't want to miss all his firsts. The decision was made.

I have been a stay at home mom for 3 years now and it has been so rewarding to watch my son and daughter grow. Difficult and grueling at times too, but worth it. I have tried to always keep one foot in the professional world. I did some consulting for a former employer, and I also serve on my town's planning commission and zoning board. There are times that I worry about re-entering the workforce, will my skills still be relevant, who will hire me after so many years of "not working." There have been times when I'm the only stay at home parent in the room and I do feel less valued because I don't have my own paycheck and any office stories I have to add to the conversation are 4 years old. Still, I wouldn't trade this time with my kids. The memories we are making are absolutely priceless. A free-spirited friend of mine from college told me "We are more than what we do to earn our daily bread." I think this is true. I have a very fulfilling life raising my children, and a very important job guiding them to be conscientious, intelligent, and caring individuals. There will still time for another professional career someday, and time for family travel adventures.

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