Two Questions.

Since having Davis there seem to be two recurring questions. Each stops me cold. Maybe frozen is the better word as cold just doesn't seem to be, well, cold enough.

1. From well meaning strangers. Always delivered with a bright cheery smile.
"Is this your first baby?"

I struggle how to answer this. Of course the easiest/quickest answer is "Yes." Done. Thank You. Next. And it's the answer I typically give. But it's like a knife in my heart every time. Because it's a lie and it feels horrible. It feels like I'm denying the existence of my beautiful Tess and Oliver. But man, if I answer truthfully?? It could turn into a longer and much deeper conversation than I want to get into with Mrs./Mr. Well Meaning Stranger.


2. From EVERYONE. Strangers. Friends. Family. Delivered with a shrugged-shoulder-head-tilted-maybe-I-shouldn't-be-asking-this kind of face.
"Are you going to have another one?"

Again. A struggle. I mean if I thought I could have a complication-free pregnancy...assuming that I would be lucky enough to get pregnant again. I'd do it. No question.
But two less than term deiveries doesn't put me on the good side of those odds. Bed rest with little miss running around seems so unfair to everyone involved. Especially if I end up in the hospital for six weeks again.

I'm feeling so much pressure to answer this question myself. I'm 38. That clock ticking is getting loud. But another ivf cycle? YUK. Another 5 months in bed? YUK. If I could jump right to the end and have the prize? Sign me up now.

The fear boils under my skin just contemplating all of this. The big fear (other than the ones already stated) that I've only talked about with one person, because I'm sure to anyone else it would sound so absurd..but she knows :: What if I do this again and have another girl? :: On the one hand it does not matter one bit. Boy/girl, who cares! Healthy. Happy. That's all that really matters. But not ever having a boy? When I came so close. Not that a new boy could ever replace Oliver. I've made that clear many times. But having two girls. Would I just miss him even more? Miss him more? Is that even possible?

Two questions that multiply with thinking.
Like a Gremlin and water.

**ETA** Out of a fear of someone that does not know me, or maybe even those that do know me, thinking that I sound ungrateful for the beautiful gorgeous baby girl that I have now. Alive and well. I am. Every day I am so thankful. She is days away from turning ONE and I'm still pinching myself that she is here with us. That I am a Mom. But I still miss the babies that aren't here. The two that should be here...that in days would be turning two. Pure joy and pure pain all rolled up into one month of the year.

True Friend.

This post over on Figlet got my wheels a turnin’.

My oldest friend J and I have this kind of friendship. We’ve been the best of friends since the second grade. 31 years and counting. We’ve been through some times. Good Times. Bad Times. We’ve lived miles apart and have gone months if not years without talking. Not because of a specific reason but just because life simply got in the way. One phone call (even ones at 3 a.m.) and we are right back where we left off. No weirdness or need for explanations. I have always loved this part of our friendship. There are so many stories and fond memories. I look forward to at least 31 more years of them.

Though we are living in different cities/states and both have busy lives, technology allows us to keep in touch a little easier than “pre-internet days” (I can’t even imagine life without the www and cell phones!) I wish we lived closer and still had free hours to drive around listening to The Cure and Yaz over and over (really just two songs, right J?) But no matter where we live or what is going on in our lives I know we are friends. For life.

Thank you J, for being my friend.

Time to slow down and breathe.

I was walking home from work tonight and as I scrambled up the subway steps and raced down the sidewalk my head was full of stuff rattling around. Voices. Lists. Images.

I have three short blocks to walk from the subway entrance to my building. Halfway home I crossed the street and walked passed a figure. A few steps more and I heard someone say my name. “Who could that be?” I thought. I turned around it was a very baffled R. Yes, my husband. I walked right by him. It’s not like it’s easy to miss him. He’s 6’5” and (IMO) the foxiest man in Brooklyn. I think he thought I was joking. Sadly I was so in my head that I honestly did not see him.

I think my head has been this full since R and I started trying to have a baby. That’s now been 5 years. How many people have I passed-and-not-seen on the street in the last five years? Who has been sitting next to me on the train that thought I was just ignoring them? Hmmmmm.

I think this noise in my head is the reason I haven’t written the Spring Cleaning Part 2 Post that I need/promised to write even though it’s now Summer. Maybe if I get it all typed out in words I can truly begin to let some things go...move on like I desperately want to do. And breathe again. Deep full breaths. Enjoy the the things that I encounter along the way. Especially the 6’5” ones.