Ok, so its been a rough couple of weeks--I came down with this nasty cold that my husband gave to me over christmas break despite taking airborne, vitamin c and the gummy vitamins for immunity. Darn! But to top it off, the day I felt the worst (and apparently looked the worst), and had no voice I was observed for school by the assistant superintendent. And it was the same day that I found out my grandmother was being rushed in to surgery at 2:30 that afternoon, on the heels of an impending snowstorm, after falling down the stairs and fracturing her ankle in 3 places.
And if that wasn't enough for 1 day, I was also waiting to hear if an important letter was hand delivered to the superintendent regarding a situation at work. So to say my nerves were a bit rattled would be an understatement. So to walk into my third period, and see the assistant superintendent on my heels, I shrugged my shoulders and told myself it is what it is. Just do what comes naturally, and know that when I'm with my students, I am confident I am a good teacher. Honestly, for the book that I was told I have to follow word by word for this year, it was a boring lesson, and not something that I would normally be okay doing with the kids. But I was told to follow this new book by the letter (its scripted), and so I did, to the dismay of the students. The lesson was bad, and there just wasn't anyway without going off script that I could help it. But overall, it was a pretty typical day.
So a week and a half later, I meet with her to go over my post-observation. One of the first things she says to me is "How are you doing?". I replied honestly, "I'm making it day by day-thanks for asking." She then goes on to ask/tell me if I am happy, because the teacher she saw during the observation was not the same teacher she saw a year ago (well, yeah, duh!). She wanted to know if I was happy at my school. Because my face just isn't the same, neither is my demeanor. Not that I was negative, just not as excited or involved as I was last year, or during my demo lesson when I interviewed. She then told me she understood that I am going through a major traumatic experience, and that there is a part of me that is still grieving (again, duh!), but she just got the feeling that I was stressed and anxious and not enjoying my job anymore.
What do you say? What could I do? I actually have thought that in the last few weeks I have been coming out of the fog that is now my existence. I thought I was doing okay at work...joking with the kids, doing my thing, talking with co-workers. Yes, there are days I have to put the sad Stacey away and focus on getting through each class period. And my co-workers have told me that when I have rough days, they know, but its no different than any other teacher having a bad day. But to have her tell me that I look different, and I am just not the same, I just was speechless. How do you respond except by repeating that you are happy, and if you didn't like where you worked, you certainly wouldn't have come back as soon as I did after the baby?
Last week my aunt told my husband he looked sad. He told me later in the car, and he was confused too. So last night we talked about the fact that we keep getting comments about how sad we look, or how anxious we seem to be. And we came to the conclusion that we are doing the best we can, and to us, we are operating somewhat normally in the real world. We aren't going to be "normal". We are finding a new normal, our new selves after Robert died. It took me 28 years to find out who I was and be comfortable in that. I've been living 3 years comfortable knowing who I am. Now that has all changed--and I don't know what that means as far as people's perception of me.
But as far as happiness goes, I hope I can be happy again. I know that watching my daughters when they aren't fighting makes me happy, watching my dog act like an idiot over a stuffed cat makes me happy, and spending time with my husband makes me happy. But there are those moments when I realize life isn't what I thought it was, and I am sad. I am trying to make the best out of it, and learn to go through each day to find a bit of happiness. I am fortunate that my family and friends have helped with this.
Mario and I agreed that we really think people who tell us we "look sad" or "unhappy" are actually just projecting their feelings onto us. We are the pitied couple right now. People see us, and feel sorry for us. And in turn, they project those feelings onto us, and assume we are just sad or unhappy.
So, my response to am I happy?....Yes, I am happy. It's just not as frequent as I used to be. My moments of unhappiness/ sadness are so much greater and stronger than I have ever felt, but that is okay that I feel like that. I am supposed to feel like that. I am still grieving! I enjoy every moment in the classroom. I love my co-workers, and the support I have received through everything! I will try a little harder to bring a little more of "me" into my lessons like you suggested, and see if that makes a difference in my appearance. I don't know why I look different, but I am different. I try to hide my sadness at work, but it doesn't mean I am any lesser of a teacher because I am going through this.
I miss my son, I miss being pregnant. Not a day goes by I don't think I should be _____ weeks along, and doing __________- (any activities to prepare for the baby). But I am hopeful that maybe he'll be ready to come down from heaven soon, and we will finally get to meet.
Robbie---I miss you and feeling you move at night. I hate when I get the phantom kicks--its just another reminder that you aren't there anymore. But thank you for the song on Wednesday--I had no idea it would be so rough walking in. But everytime it plays, its just when I need it, and I know you are looking over me. I love you! Mommy
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Protection
I have been doing so well for about a week. After the family fall out, Mario and I were able to talk and get on the same page, and really hash out some issues that we had brewing from early on in the pregnancy. Mainly, confrontational issues. If you know me, you know that I like to just settle things right away, put things on the table, and argue and yell and get it all out and resolved. Mario doesn't. So in trying to protect me so that I don't get upset, he pushes issues aside and doesn't tell people the truth about what is wrong, which means that they continue their insulting behavior. Which in turns makes me more upset! And round and round we go until I finally just handle it, and the situation is resolved--normally not so well because it has been festering for so long, but at least the truth is out. But this past weekend, thanks to my mother in law, my husband saw that in order to protect me from getting upset, if you just tell people the truth at the start, perhaps they won't like it, but then at least it won't drag out for weeks! While he didn't say the truth of what was going on, my mother in law didn't mince words, and within 25 minutes my stress was gone (well, i was still upset for how they had hurt us, but the stress of confrontation was over).
Protection...everyone has tried so hard to protect these last 2 months. From needless worry, anxiety, stress, decision making, family issues. Our moms have been doing what moms do best--calling and checking on us daily, listening and offering advice, and when needed, arguing for us (and for them). But the kicker of the situation is that the things they are trying to protect us from now are so petty and minute compared to the loss of our son--that no one could have protected us from. My husband couldn't protect me from the procedures, from bleeding so much in the hospital, from the harsh reality that my baby bump just seemed to disappear overnight. I couldn't protect him from the fact that he doesn't get to feel his son kick, or hold his son in 2 months. Neither of us can protect each other of the hurt we feel when we walk into the nursery, and where the glider and crib should be, instead is an urn with the cremains of our son, with the only pictures we have of him on the wall. We can't protect each other from the reality that even if we try again, and are blessed with another baby, we might suffer this heartache again.
Today I have been feeling odd. Almost like I'm on the verge of a bad day. But nothing has really happened to make me feel this way. Yes, I had to go out and help him shovel again, when I mentally kept reminding myself that I should have been inside, but that doesn't matter right now. There is no baby in my uterus...I can push myself as hard as I want. Except that my body has tricked itself into thinking that I might still be carrying a child, and even though I have been exercising like crazy, and watching my diet, my body has apparently put itself into starvation mode, and I am not losing any weight at all. Nobody could have protected me from the hurt I feel about my body just not cooperating so I can fit into my old clothes. (although i love my cousin who told me i'm still skinny). There's just some things you have to muddle through because there is no short cut or easy option. Sometimes people can't protect you, as much as they want too.
So Sunday, after all of our revelations and realizations that we have to be clearer in what we need to feel safe and protected with each other (and our families), we ran to target. (Side note...my daughter was with her dad, and had to be rushed to the ER because she fell on the floor and put a deep gash in her chin...5 stitches later she was discharged and numb, and we had an afternoon out that we weren't anticipating). We picked up the normal items, and found ourselves walking right past the baby aisle to get to the registers. I have successfully avoided baby sections (hah---i was protecting myself). But I wanted to see the price of a jogger stroller---the cause of his cousin making another rift between him and her, to see really, what was the big deal. It was only $100--apparently the price to insult and hurt your cousin beyond words, and then tell him your relationship was over. He and I had no idea it was so low, and went ok. That is actually a reasonably priced object, and when we'll need it (6 months after a baby is born) we should be able to manage to buy it. But while we were in the aisle, I choose to just look at the baby items. Mario was hesitant, because he didn't want me to hurt and break down, but allowed us to wander around. See, while we never registered, or picked out a pattern for the pack and play, stroller/travel system, and high chair, we never found a new one we liked. The weekend before we found out about our baby, I had contacted several people, and had plans to purchase their used items that we liked more. I had everything lined up, all the staples plus a breast pump. We were going to pick them up the weekend before Thanksgiving. The only thing we had actually picked out was the bedding.
But the first item we saw was an Eddie Bauer highchair--the old fashioned wood looking kind--not the big plastic kind. We really liked it. We liked the cushion too. So Mario went and found the stroller system, and called me over, and we both loved it! We found the pack and play, and realized that we actually loved this pattern!
See, his cousin and I traded jogger strollers a while back--my double for her single. When we found out the baby died, I returned any baby items I had except the jogger. I just didn't need the reminders of what we had lost. But the stroller, which was needed for a 6month old or older baby, was the one piece of hope we were holding onto that maybe, maybe we would try again, and get our take home baby. It was in the garage, so we could go and glance at it, and take a deep breathe and know that maybe we would be able to move past the darkness and sadness, and try again. When his cousin demanded it back, because they needed it now, and wouldn't trade back the stroller, it struck a nerve with us. It was like they were telling us that we weren't going to ever need it again. They were assuming that because our baby died at 5 months, we weren't going to get an opportunity to try again and succeed, so they just wanted it back and didn't want to return our double stroller because they still needed it. We are sensitive, and we are allowed to be right now. But how they handled this situation was just wrong. And its something my husband won't get over anytime soon. We did end up deciding that it was better for us as a couple, and future parents, to just give them the damn stroller, and buy a new one with no negativity attached to it (or those who were not wishing us well).
Anyway, back to Target. We now have no baby stuff, nothing. I felt hopeless-I had nothing to cling too besides memories. But here we were, looking at a pattern we absolutely adore. It took so much self control not to buy all three pieces on the spot...because he and i looked at each other, and acknowledged that we were crazy, but we wanted something tangible to hold on to. We never ordered the crib, we never bought baby clothes. To protect ourselves in case something bad happened (which it did), we didn't buy anything that might remind us of what we lost. But in doing that, we were left with empty arms, and an empty room, and no hope of a bright future. I know that he and I want to buy the baby items now to protect us from the reminder that there might not be a baby in 2 months, but it doesn't mean it won't even happen. In protecting ourselves from hurting, we actually ended up being more hurt because we lost hope. I hope that makes sense, because while it makes sense to me, it may not to anyone else.
So we controlled ourselves, and called our moms to see if we were crazy. We were told we weren't. We then decided that one paycheck a month we are going to go out and buy one item for our next baby. We don't know when that will be, but who knows, maybe when we are done buying all these baby items we'll get the biggest surprise of all-a second chance. And the next time, I don't think he or I will try to distance ourselves from the baby, but instead embrace and enjoy everything moment we will have. Sometimes protection isn't always a good thing because you miss out on all the little moments you won't release/open your heart too.
Protection...everyone has tried so hard to protect these last 2 months. From needless worry, anxiety, stress, decision making, family issues. Our moms have been doing what moms do best--calling and checking on us daily, listening and offering advice, and when needed, arguing for us (and for them). But the kicker of the situation is that the things they are trying to protect us from now are so petty and minute compared to the loss of our son--that no one could have protected us from. My husband couldn't protect me from the procedures, from bleeding so much in the hospital, from the harsh reality that my baby bump just seemed to disappear overnight. I couldn't protect him from the fact that he doesn't get to feel his son kick, or hold his son in 2 months. Neither of us can protect each other of the hurt we feel when we walk into the nursery, and where the glider and crib should be, instead is an urn with the cremains of our son, with the only pictures we have of him on the wall. We can't protect each other from the reality that even if we try again, and are blessed with another baby, we might suffer this heartache again.
Today I have been feeling odd. Almost like I'm on the verge of a bad day. But nothing has really happened to make me feel this way. Yes, I had to go out and help him shovel again, when I mentally kept reminding myself that I should have been inside, but that doesn't matter right now. There is no baby in my uterus...I can push myself as hard as I want. Except that my body has tricked itself into thinking that I might still be carrying a child, and even though I have been exercising like crazy, and watching my diet, my body has apparently put itself into starvation mode, and I am not losing any weight at all. Nobody could have protected me from the hurt I feel about my body just not cooperating so I can fit into my old clothes. (although i love my cousin who told me i'm still skinny). There's just some things you have to muddle through because there is no short cut or easy option. Sometimes people can't protect you, as much as they want too.
So Sunday, after all of our revelations and realizations that we have to be clearer in what we need to feel safe and protected with each other (and our families), we ran to target. (Side note...my daughter was with her dad, and had to be rushed to the ER because she fell on the floor and put a deep gash in her chin...5 stitches later she was discharged and numb, and we had an afternoon out that we weren't anticipating). We picked up the normal items, and found ourselves walking right past the baby aisle to get to the registers. I have successfully avoided baby sections (hah---i was protecting myself). But I wanted to see the price of a jogger stroller---the cause of his cousin making another rift between him and her, to see really, what was the big deal. It was only $100--apparently the price to insult and hurt your cousin beyond words, and then tell him your relationship was over. He and I had no idea it was so low, and went ok. That is actually a reasonably priced object, and when we'll need it (6 months after a baby is born) we should be able to manage to buy it. But while we were in the aisle, I choose to just look at the baby items. Mario was hesitant, because he didn't want me to hurt and break down, but allowed us to wander around. See, while we never registered, or picked out a pattern for the pack and play, stroller/travel system, and high chair, we never found a new one we liked. The weekend before we found out about our baby, I had contacted several people, and had plans to purchase their used items that we liked more. I had everything lined up, all the staples plus a breast pump. We were going to pick them up the weekend before Thanksgiving. The only thing we had actually picked out was the bedding.
But the first item we saw was an Eddie Bauer highchair--the old fashioned wood looking kind--not the big plastic kind. We really liked it. We liked the cushion too. So Mario went and found the stroller system, and called me over, and we both loved it! We found the pack and play, and realized that we actually loved this pattern!
See, his cousin and I traded jogger strollers a while back--my double for her single. When we found out the baby died, I returned any baby items I had except the jogger. I just didn't need the reminders of what we had lost. But the stroller, which was needed for a 6month old or older baby, was the one piece of hope we were holding onto that maybe, maybe we would try again, and get our take home baby. It was in the garage, so we could go and glance at it, and take a deep breathe and know that maybe we would be able to move past the darkness and sadness, and try again. When his cousin demanded it back, because they needed it now, and wouldn't trade back the stroller, it struck a nerve with us. It was like they were telling us that we weren't going to ever need it again. They were assuming that because our baby died at 5 months, we weren't going to get an opportunity to try again and succeed, so they just wanted it back and didn't want to return our double stroller because they still needed it. We are sensitive, and we are allowed to be right now. But how they handled this situation was just wrong. And its something my husband won't get over anytime soon. We did end up deciding that it was better for us as a couple, and future parents, to just give them the damn stroller, and buy a new one with no negativity attached to it (or those who were not wishing us well).
Anyway, back to Target. We now have no baby stuff, nothing. I felt hopeless-I had nothing to cling too besides memories. But here we were, looking at a pattern we absolutely adore. It took so much self control not to buy all three pieces on the spot...because he and i looked at each other, and acknowledged that we were crazy, but we wanted something tangible to hold on to. We never ordered the crib, we never bought baby clothes. To protect ourselves in case something bad happened (which it did), we didn't buy anything that might remind us of what we lost. But in doing that, we were left with empty arms, and an empty room, and no hope of a bright future. I know that he and I want to buy the baby items now to protect us from the reminder that there might not be a baby in 2 months, but it doesn't mean it won't even happen. In protecting ourselves from hurting, we actually ended up being more hurt because we lost hope. I hope that makes sense, because while it makes sense to me, it may not to anyone else.
So we controlled ourselves, and called our moms to see if we were crazy. We were told we weren't. We then decided that one paycheck a month we are going to go out and buy one item for our next baby. We don't know when that will be, but who knows, maybe when we are done buying all these baby items we'll get the biggest surprise of all-a second chance. And the next time, I don't think he or I will try to distance ourselves from the baby, but instead embrace and enjoy everything moment we will have. Sometimes protection isn't always a good thing because you miss out on all the little moments you won't release/open your heart too.
Day 3: My First Love ( a day later)
Due to my grandmother fracturing her tibia in 3 places and have surgery yesterday to put a plate and pins in to stabilize it, during a winter storm, I was not able to post yesterday.
But this is short and brief....Huey Lewis. I loved "The Power of Love" when I first saw him perform in it Back To The Future. I had to be 5 or 6 or 7. I remember wanting to go see him in a concert. Yup, my first love (well, techinically it should be he-man, but I am only including real people, not cartoons)!
But this is short and brief....Huey Lewis. I loved "The Power of Love" when I first saw him perform in it Back To The Future. I had to be 5 or 6 or 7. I remember wanting to go see him in a concert. Yup, my first love (well, techinically it should be he-man, but I am only including real people, not cartoons)!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Day 2: My Blog Name
It actually is quite simple. The first summer I spent with my two daughters I wasn't working, and Faith Hill came out with her song "Fireflies". That song reflected so much of what was in my heart to teach to my daughters...especially in light of my failing marriage. So during and after the separation/ divorce, that song was always my song with my girls. The numbers, 0306, are their birth years respectively (2003, 2006). I've had that screen name/ email name for almost 5 years.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Day 1: 15 Interesting Facts
Now, 15 interesting facts about me....
1) I am a true Jersey girl. I was born and lived for the first 10 years in North Jersey. Then my family moved to South Jersey to a city called Vineland (known at the time for growing eggplants). When I went to college, I went back up north to Morristown, and commuted for 3 years to Princeton for a internship. After college my first husband and I settled in East Windsor (Central Jersey), only to move back down south 3 years later.
2) I love dolphins--always have, always will. One of my "bucket list" things was to swim with dolphins, which I finally got to do on my honeymoon last year!
3) I live in a town that is 1 sq mile. Literally, it is 3 streets wide. If I was motivated I could walk to the grocery store, the deli, my oldest daughter's school, and the hospital!
4) My ideal vacation is to go to a beach, sit in a chair and read a book, while my girls play in the sand and water and my husband builds sand sculptures
5) I am a dog person, not a cat person. I have a black lab/newfoundland/ shepard (we think) mix who is 2 years old.
6) I was raised catholic, went to catholic school, but then became a born again christian in my pre-teens. I was extremely bible-thumper christian, and my mission was to save everyone who wasn't christian. Boy, have I changed my views since then. I'm still Christian, but after seeing hypocrisy from too many congregations when my family (or other families) were hurting, I re-evaluated my faith, and my religion, and went back to my roots of Catholicism.
7) I was a medicinal chemist, and worked on making drugs to help with schizophrenia and depression, as well as cancer drugs. I worked at Bristol Myers Squibb as an intern, and for Wyeth Pharmaceuticals (bought out 2 years ago) for 2 or 3 years. I love chemistry.
8) When I was first married and wanted to start a family I realized my career as a chemist wasn't family friendly, and I wasn't happy in that job. So while praying and thinking, I realized I loved teaching---I had been an education major for 1 year in college, and loved every minute of it. So, I contacted my former advisor, and asked about getting my certification. This is my 8th year as a science teacher in NJ. And I love seeing the students' faces every day!
9) If I had known I would become a teacher, I probably would have been a history major instead of a chemistry major. I love history, and read every historical fiction novel I can get my hands on!
10) When I graduated high school, I was going to be a missionary doctor, and be an orthopedic surgeon--haha! All that changed during my first semester of college
11) I have two little girls, one of them looks like my dad's side (blonde and fair), and the other looks like my mom's side (dark curly hair, olive skin, very italian looking)
12) I met my husband while working at the same high school. I was dealing with my marriage that had ended, and he was just starting out and had his own relationship issues. We became friends and figured it was safe because neither one was what we were looking for. I needed time alone, and he wanted a young fresh chick and no kids ;-) he liked his peace and quiet...4 years later, peace and quiet doesn't describe our family at all!
13) I used to play the piano, and wish that I had room to put a piano in our home so that I could play to help me release stress!
14) When I was younger I went to Camp Deer Run on Lake Winnipesaukee in NH. Those were some of the best memories in my teenage summers!)
15) I am a talker and I don't shut up. Well, I did before. Now, while you can't tell from the blog, I don't say much. There's not much to comment on anymore.
Blog Challenge
I stole this blog challenge from two blogs that I follow. After reading their posts, I realize that while I started this blog to sort out my emotions, share my story and also help other people cope (with their own loss, or how to comfort those around them who have suffered a loss), it also has to be a process of finding the new me. As I stated in my last post, I am not the same me that I was 7 weeks ago, and I know I won't be the same. So maybe this challenge will help me start to know me again!
Day 1-Introduce, recent picture, 15 interesting facts
Day 2-Meaning behind your blog name
Day 3-Your first love
Day 4-Your parents
Day 5-Your siblings
Day 6-A picture of something that makes you happy
Day 7-Favorite movies
Day 8-A place you've traveled to
Day 9-A picture of your friends
Day 10-Something you're afraid of
Day 11-Favorite TV shows
Day 12-What you believe
Day 13-Goals
Day 14-A picture you love
Day 15-Bible verse
Day 16-Dream house
Day 17-Something you're looking forward to
Day 18-Something you regret
Day 19-Something you miss
Day 20-Nicknames
Day 21-Picture of yourself
Day 22-Favorite city
Day 23-Favorite vacation
Day 24-Something you've learned
Day 25-Put your iPod on shuffle, first 10 songs
Day 26-Picture of your family
Day 27-Pets
Day 28-Something that stresses you out
Day 29-3 Wishes
Day 30-a picture
Day 1-Introduce, recent picture, 15 interesting facts
Day 2-Meaning behind your blog name
Day 3-Your first love
Day 4-Your parents
Day 5-Your siblings
Day 6-A picture of something that makes you happy
Day 7-Favorite movies
Day 8-A place you've traveled to
Day 9-A picture of your friends
Day 10-Something you're afraid of
Day 11-Favorite TV shows
Day 12-What you believe
Day 13-Goals
Day 14-A picture you love
Day 15-Bible verse
Day 16-Dream house
Day 17-Something you're looking forward to
Day 18-Something you regret
Day 19-Something you miss
Day 20-Nicknames
Day 21-Picture of yourself
Day 22-Favorite city
Day 23-Favorite vacation
Day 24-Something you've learned
Day 25-Put your iPod on shuffle, first 10 songs
Day 26-Picture of your family
Day 27-Pets
Day 28-Something that stresses you out
Day 29-3 Wishes
Day 30-a picture
Friday, January 7, 2011
Everything Has Changed
So, Barenaked Ladies has a song with the title "Everything Has Changed" where the chorus repeats "Everything has changed, everything is strange". While the whole song doesn't apply to our loss, the chorus has been repeating in my head since a falling out with my husband's cousins last night. We were forced to take a look at the people that are surrounding us in this time of darkness and sadness. And those that disappointed us, and avoided us in the last 7 weeks-almost like we had the plague, or that we carried the virus of "baby loss". Someone posted on one of the message boards a question pertaining to how were we before all of our losses? This got me thinking...how was I before we saw Robert so still on the ultrasound screen? How did Mario and I just be able to lay next to each other in the morning and relax, and listen to the radio before having to get up? What has happened to that "carefree" (i use that loosely with us, we are a very excitable couple) thought process that he and I had? What happened to me? Work is no longer a priority--relationships with other people and students are. And if there is something going on at my daughter's school--you'd better believe i'm using my personal time! the students will survive without me. If a co-worker is having a bad day---or sharing-- and the bell rings, the kids can wait an extra second so i can give that hug too. If someone does something to offend me, I am sure of a heck a lot quicker to call them out on it. And those friends that ignore us, don't call or text us, well, screw them. We have learned through all this who are support system is. And its not who we expected. While we have a strong core family, my in laws have been amazing. my mom--(and she knows this is true)--and i have never been closer--for 31 years i finally have the relationship that i've always wanted with her (no psychologist would have said this would have helped!), my friends (some i met b/c they are parents of my daughter's friends, some have been my friends for years, and people i work with) are so thoughtful, and i've shared things with them that some of my former close friends never knew. I am not that same person I used to be. There is an underlying anger in me that is quick to come out. There is an intolerance for those family and friends who have "banished" us, who dare approach us inappropriately about things that just don't matter before asking us how we are. (they know who they are). There is an air of I just don't care about certain things anymore because its not important. I'm not the same wife I was when we were married. Our cuddle time now involves a crying session and talking it out. It is bittersweet, but hey, its how we are working it out between us. I am a different mother than I was before. While I now recognize the need for "me time" (exercising so I don't flip out at inappropriate times), I am quicker to play a game with my girls even if it means extending bedtime by 10 minutes. I am also quicker to discipline (hence emily getting coal on christmas), and have a higher expectation of the girls to love each other and be kind...for all they know, they're all they have! I've even changed as a teacher, as a friend, as a daughter in law. Emily now goes to the preschool in my school...having her there makes my day a little brighter because I know that by 3:00, I get to get a huge hug and a smile...and walk out of the building with her chatting away. In the morning I get to hold her hand as I walk her to her classroom. Its the little things that mean the most now.
I can't imagine what my life was like before--its odd. You normally have this thought after you take your baby home from the hospital--what was life like before him or her? But there's no baby...but i still have those thoughts. my life has changed forever. mario's life has changed forever. how did he and i use to just relax on a friday night, without having to cry, hug and talk about what bothered us today (not work related either!)? How did I go into Target without having to avoid the baby section? Its only been 7 weeks, but i dont remember how I was before. A co-worker/ friend told me today that I'm not the same that I was...and I'm not supposed to be. That surprised me--I thought I was acting as much like my old self as possible--but apparently I don't remember my old self that well.
We are so fortunate to be surrounded by family and friends that are helping us accept this new reality, and offer us their understanding and patience as we grieve. I just wish I could remember or find that little bit of the "old Stacey" that was here 7 weeks ago. but she might be gone. And what's left is a stronger version of me, a little bit sadder, more compassionate, and definitely not afraid to speak up and say what I need or how I feel. Like the chorus goes "everything has changed, everything is strange".
Robbie--I guess its a good thing that life will never go back to the way it was--you impacted our life so much for the brief time you were with us. Please keep watching over us and have fun with your friends! Love Mommy
I can't imagine what my life was like before--its odd. You normally have this thought after you take your baby home from the hospital--what was life like before him or her? But there's no baby...but i still have those thoughts. my life has changed forever. mario's life has changed forever. how did he and i use to just relax on a friday night, without having to cry, hug and talk about what bothered us today (not work related either!)? How did I go into Target without having to avoid the baby section? Its only been 7 weeks, but i dont remember how I was before. A co-worker/ friend told me today that I'm not the same that I was...and I'm not supposed to be. That surprised me--I thought I was acting as much like my old self as possible--but apparently I don't remember my old self that well.
We are so fortunate to be surrounded by family and friends that are helping us accept this new reality, and offer us their understanding and patience as we grieve. I just wish I could remember or find that little bit of the "old Stacey" that was here 7 weeks ago. but she might be gone. And what's left is a stronger version of me, a little bit sadder, more compassionate, and definitely not afraid to speak up and say what I need or how I feel. Like the chorus goes "everything has changed, everything is strange".
Robbie--I guess its a good thing that life will never go back to the way it was--you impacted our life so much for the brief time you were with us. Please keep watching over us and have fun with your friends! Love Mommy
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Signs
Robert was a very active baby--I first felt movement from him at approximately 9 weeks--and it wasn't gas! And the bigger he got, the more he used to move. Whenever his sisters would yell and scream and run around and get hyper, he would move. When my husband used to goof off with my daughters, he would move. When I tried to sleep at night, without fail, he would move.
When school started in the fall, I figured he would be quiet in the mornings and while I was on my feet all day moving around (my school gave me a horrible schedule, where every 40 minutes I was moving to another room, upstairs one period, downstairs the next, and I teach freshmen so the option to sit and let them be independent, especially in September is out of the question!). As I sat in traffic one morning during that first week back, the Black Eyed Peas song I've Gotta Feeling came on the radio. And as I sat there impatient to get to work after sitting in the line of cars pulling in to school, the baby started to move. A lot! It seemed as if he was dancing in there! I was so amused, and pleased as punch! I was just tickled. Unfortunately for him I was able to pull into my parking spot, and the song was still playing and he was still moving. I felt bad, but I was going to be late, and I had to turn the car and music off. I told him I was sorry, but he could still keep moving. And off to work I went. After that, every time a Black Eyed Peas song came on the radio he would start dancing his little touchie off, )or 1 or 2 Katy Perry songs if he was in the mood, . I experimented with other artists, other songs, but he wouldn't budge. Only Black Eyed Peas was the sure thing).
So my first Monday back to work after the d & e, I was sitting in the line of cars, waiting to pull into the parking lot. The radio was on to a random station. I was trying to concentrate on the day ahead and what I was going to anticipate, and how I was going to deal with seeing everyone the first day back. (I work with many lovely supportive people, and their hugs, while rough and made me cry that first week back, helped me to know and remind me still that i'm not alone). And suddenly, I heard the first few bars of the song I hadn't heard since he left us. If you know the song, you know that the beginning is unique and can't mistake it. I turned up the radio, and realized it was I've Gotta Feeling...I started to cry and shake right then and there. In my car, with senior students staring at me as we were pulling in. I pulled in, and texted my husband that his song just came on the radio, and I didn't think I could do this after all. He called me back immediately and wanted to make sure I was going to walk into school. I had turned off the song, and tried to calm down, and eventually did walk in, and went back to work.
Today, it is 7 weeks since we learned of our baby boy's demise. During my 7th period class (the ones that nicknamed the baby), one of the students asked if I liked the Black Eyed Peas. I responded I used to, and the kids at his table quickly realized that I might start getting upset, and tried to get him to change the subject. That only confused the student more, because he didn't remember the class discussions we had (well, debates) because the students wanted the baby to move always during their class and tried to get me to put on this song so the baby could move. But it was so sweet to see the kids be that sensitive to me, and we managed to get back on task, and moved on with class. The next period is my prep period, and I am dealing with a huge issue at work (not student related--my kids are awesome) and was having a tough emotional day...I still had to put grades in the gradebook, handle writing a letter and grading. I started bringing my ipod to work when I came back to tune out everything around me when I needed to. Today was one of those days. So I broke out the ipod, turned on the laptop that is assigned to me, and opened up Word and starting typing...or I tried too. The first song on my ipod that came on...you got it...I've Gotta Feeling. I stopped typing, and just sat there. I wanted to cry, but something just stopped me. I took a deep breathe, listened to the song and just allowed myself to remember the happy times associated with that song--and looked out the window at the clouds and sky, and realized that my little boy was up in heaven dancing his little booty off. And that thought made me smile (if you knew me and my husband you know we aren't dancers lol). My baby is dancing and is ok. I went onto my message boards to write a quick message about my good moment of acceptance, and then got back to work, still smiling. I thought about how maybe this song is now my sign from my son from heaven, that he is thinking of me still and watching over me. When I got in my car this afternoon to leave work, I am now absolutely sure that having this song play is my son's way to letting me know he is still looking after me...because guess what song was on the radio?
It is so bittersweet because I want to feel sorry for myself, that I'm not feeling him kick in real time to the music, but to know that he and I have this special song...it gives me a sense of knowing he was my boy, and always will be there for me!
Robbie--Thank you for today. I needed that so much from you to know you are ok. Have fun dancing with your friends in heaven and save a dance for me...okay? i love you...mommy
When school started in the fall, I figured he would be quiet in the mornings and while I was on my feet all day moving around (my school gave me a horrible schedule, where every 40 minutes I was moving to another room, upstairs one period, downstairs the next, and I teach freshmen so the option to sit and let them be independent, especially in September is out of the question!). As I sat in traffic one morning during that first week back, the Black Eyed Peas song I've Gotta Feeling came on the radio. And as I sat there impatient to get to work after sitting in the line of cars pulling in to school, the baby started to move. A lot! It seemed as if he was dancing in there! I was so amused, and pleased as punch! I was just tickled. Unfortunately for him I was able to pull into my parking spot, and the song was still playing and he was still moving. I felt bad, but I was going to be late, and I had to turn the car and music off. I told him I was sorry, but he could still keep moving. And off to work I went. After that, every time a Black Eyed Peas song came on the radio he would start dancing his little touchie off, )or 1 or 2 Katy Perry songs if he was in the mood, . I experimented with other artists, other songs, but he wouldn't budge. Only Black Eyed Peas was the sure thing).
So my first Monday back to work after the d & e, I was sitting in the line of cars, waiting to pull into the parking lot. The radio was on to a random station. I was trying to concentrate on the day ahead and what I was going to anticipate, and how I was going to deal with seeing everyone the first day back. (I work with many lovely supportive people, and their hugs, while rough and made me cry that first week back, helped me to know and remind me still that i'm not alone). And suddenly, I heard the first few bars of the song I hadn't heard since he left us. If you know the song, you know that the beginning is unique and can't mistake it. I turned up the radio, and realized it was I've Gotta Feeling...I started to cry and shake right then and there. In my car, with senior students staring at me as we were pulling in. I pulled in, and texted my husband that his song just came on the radio, and I didn't think I could do this after all. He called me back immediately and wanted to make sure I was going to walk into school. I had turned off the song, and tried to calm down, and eventually did walk in, and went back to work.
Today, it is 7 weeks since we learned of our baby boy's demise. During my 7th period class (the ones that nicknamed the baby), one of the students asked if I liked the Black Eyed Peas. I responded I used to, and the kids at his table quickly realized that I might start getting upset, and tried to get him to change the subject. That only confused the student more, because he didn't remember the class discussions we had (well, debates) because the students wanted the baby to move always during their class and tried to get me to put on this song so the baby could move. But it was so sweet to see the kids be that sensitive to me, and we managed to get back on task, and moved on with class. The next period is my prep period, and I am dealing with a huge issue at work (not student related--my kids are awesome) and was having a tough emotional day...I still had to put grades in the gradebook, handle writing a letter and grading. I started bringing my ipod to work when I came back to tune out everything around me when I needed to. Today was one of those days. So I broke out the ipod, turned on the laptop that is assigned to me, and opened up Word and starting typing...or I tried too. The first song on my ipod that came on...you got it...I've Gotta Feeling. I stopped typing, and just sat there. I wanted to cry, but something just stopped me. I took a deep breathe, listened to the song and just allowed myself to remember the happy times associated with that song--and looked out the window at the clouds and sky, and realized that my little boy was up in heaven dancing his little booty off. And that thought made me smile (if you knew me and my husband you know we aren't dancers lol). My baby is dancing and is ok. I went onto my message boards to write a quick message about my good moment of acceptance, and then got back to work, still smiling. I thought about how maybe this song is now my sign from my son from heaven, that he is thinking of me still and watching over me. When I got in my car this afternoon to leave work, I am now absolutely sure that having this song play is my son's way to letting me know he is still looking after me...because guess what song was on the radio?
It is so bittersweet because I want to feel sorry for myself, that I'm not feeling him kick in real time to the music, but to know that he and I have this special song...it gives me a sense of knowing he was my boy, and always will be there for me!
Robbie--Thank you for today. I needed that so much from you to know you are ok. Have fun dancing with your friends in heaven and save a dance for me...okay? i love you...mommy
Monday, January 3, 2011
No Guarantees
So since New Year's Eve, I have been writing out everything in Word, editing it, and then posting it on this blog. On top of that, I have been exercising like crazy, because the more I exercise and write, the better I feel, and more I sleep. I do about 25 minutes of cardio or strength training thanks to Comcast On Demand, then 10 minutes of pilates, and 10 minutes of yoga (it really does help release the anger). I just hope I can continue doing this during the work week--or else my PMS on top of grief won't be pretty for me, my students or my co-workers. But staying off of xanax is definitely a hard choice-it would be so much easier to just stay on it, and not worry about finding "me" time. I know I need to lose at least 15 pounds to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. It sucks to think about that if I just was able to breast feed, the weight would have been gone weeks ago!
But I was hesitant going back to work today--almost worse than the first day of school jitters. This year is going to be very different from what I had envisioned. Instead of going out on leave in approximately 8 -10 weeks, I am in school through June, with a summer job lined up pending approval for the deli. There are other issues at work, that I really feel are so unimportant, but you still have to handle them. And I really do have to have faith that things are just going to work out, and obviously Mario and I are poor planners because the life we had planned for slipped through our fingers. My job, my family, having another baby, somehow its just going to have to all work out, one way or another. Its a lot easier to type that than believe it!
But today, at work at the copier, a fellow teacher came up to me, and told me she didn't want to make me upset, but she wanted to share with me that she had 4 miscarriages, and that she knew what i was going through, but not really because her pregnancies were not as far along as mine. I told her I am learning that it doesn't matter--once we see the two lines, we are already new mommies. We talked about how we are both Christians, but even this has us perplexed and we don't understand why God could allow something like this to happen--such heartache and sorrow. We talked about the innocent belief of pregnant women about milestones: if you see "this" at 6 weeks, you are doing good. At 8 weeks if you see the heartbeat, that's great! At 12 weeks, at the end of the first trimester, and you see the heartbeat, you are in the clear until the anatomy scan. But if bloodwork comes back normal, and you are feeling okay, and the ultrasounds in between look good and baby is growing, then you should bring your baby home in your arms after 9 months--right? Wrong! There are no guarantees, even as late as the 39th week. But for new naive mothers, they allow themselves to believe the milestones guarantee because you can't fathom the reality of what if something did go wrong? And it was so nice, that even though I've posted this before on my board with my supportive group of ladies, to actually hear another mother bring it up! Life truly does have no guarantees. But she also wanted to tell me to have hope, and that one day I will have my take home baby. That this sad, dark time, will get better-never leave. I appreciated her coming up to me and sharing this with me. She said she realizes that no one talks about it--its a taboo subject, and i agree. Why can we light up message boards, and have blogs and online support groups, but where do we talk about it in real life? No one wants to hear that there are no guarantees--even in pregnancy. So does that mean our grief is less than others who have lost loved ones? Does it mean our little angels don't get to be remembered by anyone but ourselves and our families?
I don't think so. I'm sure it makes other people uncomfortable, but I need to talk about my son, and how he is watching over all of us right now. There was no guarantee I would hold him, and sing him to sleep, but there was the guarantee that I would love my little boy the moment I first knew I was carrying him.
I appreciate each person who allows me to speak of my grief, who understands I am not the same person I was 7 weeks ago, who is patient and lets me ramble, who comes up to me in parking lots and gives me a hug, because they know I need it and they want me to know they care, who allows me to stay in bed as long as I may need or work out as much as I want to make myself feel better, who helps to bring a little bit of happiness and distraction for my family when I just can't pull it together some days.
Chamilia charm bracelet--was special because my mother in law--your "nanny" gave me an angel charm. So all day today I kept touching the bracelets as a reminder of you and that although life may go on, there are no guarantees, but at least i have the fact that i love you very much, and know that you will always be my angel, watching me, your daddy, your sisters and the rest of your family.
But I was hesitant going back to work today--almost worse than the first day of school jitters. This year is going to be very different from what I had envisioned. Instead of going out on leave in approximately 8 -10 weeks, I am in school through June, with a summer job lined up pending approval for the deli. There are other issues at work, that I really feel are so unimportant, but you still have to handle them. And I really do have to have faith that things are just going to work out, and obviously Mario and I are poor planners because the life we had planned for slipped through our fingers. My job, my family, having another baby, somehow its just going to have to all work out, one way or another. Its a lot easier to type that than believe it!
But today, at work at the copier, a fellow teacher came up to me, and told me she didn't want to make me upset, but she wanted to share with me that she had 4 miscarriages, and that she knew what i was going through, but not really because her pregnancies were not as far along as mine. I told her I am learning that it doesn't matter--once we see the two lines, we are already new mommies. We talked about how we are both Christians, but even this has us perplexed and we don't understand why God could allow something like this to happen--such heartache and sorrow. We talked about the innocent belief of pregnant women about milestones: if you see "this" at 6 weeks, you are doing good. At 8 weeks if you see the heartbeat, that's great! At 12 weeks, at the end of the first trimester, and you see the heartbeat, you are in the clear until the anatomy scan. But if bloodwork comes back normal, and you are feeling okay, and the ultrasounds in between look good and baby is growing, then you should bring your baby home in your arms after 9 months--right? Wrong! There are no guarantees, even as late as the 39th week. But for new naive mothers, they allow themselves to believe the milestones guarantee because you can't fathom the reality of what if something did go wrong? And it was so nice, that even though I've posted this before on my board with my supportive group of ladies, to actually hear another mother bring it up! Life truly does have no guarantees. But she also wanted to tell me to have hope, and that one day I will have my take home baby. That this sad, dark time, will get better-never leave. I appreciated her coming up to me and sharing this with me. She said she realizes that no one talks about it--its a taboo subject, and i agree. Why can we light up message boards, and have blogs and online support groups, but where do we talk about it in real life? No one wants to hear that there are no guarantees--even in pregnancy. So does that mean our grief is less than others who have lost loved ones? Does it mean our little angels don't get to be remembered by anyone but ourselves and our families?
I don't think so. I'm sure it makes other people uncomfortable, but I need to talk about my son, and how he is watching over all of us right now. There was no guarantee I would hold him, and sing him to sleep, but there was the guarantee that I would love my little boy the moment I first knew I was carrying him.
I appreciate each person who allows me to speak of my grief, who understands I am not the same person I was 7 weeks ago, who is patient and lets me ramble, who comes up to me in parking lots and gives me a hug, because they know I need it and they want me to know they care, who allows me to stay in bed as long as I may need or work out as much as I want to make myself feel better, who helps to bring a little bit of happiness and distraction for my family when I just can't pull it together some days.
Chamilia charm bracelet--was special because my mother in law--your "nanny" gave me an angel charm. So all day today I kept touching the bracelets as a reminder of you and that although life may go on, there are no guarantees, but at least i have the fact that i love you very much, and know that you will always be my angel, watching me, your daddy, your sisters and the rest of your family.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
New Traditions
My New Year's Eve consisted of being with my husband who was sick with a bad cold and took Nyquil at 9:00 that night and passed out dead asleep by 9:30, and I played Solitare until the sleeping pill kicked in (yes, I am aware that I should be mindful of how much I take it, but I'm pretty sure since I didn't sleep the night before and was having a rough time with the new year, it was warranted to be okay to take it). When I woke up, I immediately went to go work out--I still have 20 pounds to lose of the baby weight. Plus our counselor thinks that if I don't want to go on a drug like Lexipro or stay on the Xanax (which I don't), I have to find an outlet for my anger and sadness. So, off to exercise I went--I hate feeling like I can't get out of bed. I just want to lay there and think of what I should be doing right now, instead of what reality has brought me. I have to say I'm proud of the fact that I got up and exercised for 30 minutes (20 minutes Fitness 360 and 10 minute of Fitness 360 yoga), and that afterward I felt a little more normal. If only I can do this every morning before entering the world! Work has me extremely anxious right now--there's lot of issues going on (that were happening before my son died) that when you have an insensitive supervisor (i'm a high school physical science teacher), who doesn't get that I wasn't home for 2 1/2 weeks eating chips and shopping and relaxing. Harassment would be the best would I can use to describe his attitude toward me. And unfortunately, where I would have just smiled and dealt with him as best I could till June, I don't have that care in me anymore to make him happy. He and I had a conference within my first week returning...but more on that another day.
Anyway, after I was done exercising, Mario and I had to get ready and go pick up my daughters from his parents house (they wanted to have them for a sleepover New Year's Eve, which was great for them, to be spoiled and have fun with their grandparents). Plus he and I were supposed to go to our friends' house, but with Mario being sick, and me being an emotional mess , I didn't think it would be a great idea.
That was okay--we piled into the van, and off we went. We arrived in Ocean City around 12, and set out to find a parking spot. Ocean City was crazy! It was full of people, parking lots were full, and the roads were still covered in snow so street parking was tough. We went to a parking we were familar with that was near the boardwalk, the bathrooms and our pizza stop. And what do you know...we found a spot right away! Normally this erupts into fighting and yelling...instead we were happy and smiling--go figure!
So we went up the boardwalk, and my girls saw snow on the beach for the first time. They were so confused! I'll post pictures. It is surreal seeing snow on the beach, but so unique too. We sat down in our favorite pizza place, Mack and Manco's, and ordered a large cheese pie, and 2 slices of white for my oldest, with 3 birch beers and 1 lemonade. While this is our usual when we go to the beach in the summer, to do it New Year's Day was sweet, and nice, and gave the negative view I had for 2011 a bit of a positive spin. Maybe life can go back to normal after all. When we were eating, my husband's phone rang, and it was his mom--they had decided to come after all! We laughed--we knew she couldn't stay away. But she and my father in law were just walking the boards. We could catch up with them later.
We finished up lunch, with pregnant women and infants in strollers walking around with no break downs. Then we walked on the beach, and while it was a bit nippy, we found a spot to observe the people jumping in the water at 2pm, and waited. We saw dogs, my girls ran and played in the sand/ snow. We laughed at costumes, and shook our heads at the girls and guys walking around in just their swimsuits (keep in mind it was about 48 degrees F yesterday, with a slight breeze). And then, the countdown started, and a noise signaled for everyone to jump in (I think it was a noise, like a horn, but I'm not sure)...and right away you heard squeals and squeaks and yelps as people hit the cold water. It was amusing!! As we walked away, my oldest told me she wanted to do that one year, and so did my youngest. I told them fine, I'll be waiting with the towels on the beach. We went and got my oldest funnel cake, and my youngest asked for cotton candy (which they didn't have), so she settled for gummi worms instead from Shrivers.
As we walked back to the car, I reflected as to what a great tradition we started. Take a great summertime tradition, but start it on the first day of the New Year. There was a feeling of contentment that I felt, of reassurance, that life isn't all sad, going through our family's traditions of the Ocean City boardwalk. And while my little boy won't be joining us next summer, there was a part of me that knew he was the reason we started the new tradition this year, so that in the summer maybe I won't be as upset.
Here's to new traditions in this new year!
Anyway, after I was done exercising, Mario and I had to get ready and go pick up my daughters from his parents house (they wanted to have them for a sleepover New Year's Eve, which was great for them, to be spoiled and have fun with their grandparents). Plus he and I were supposed to go to our friends' house, but with Mario being sick, and me being an emotional mess , I didn't think it would be a great idea. |
| People on the beach watching |
As I was getting ready, I was thinking about what we could do for New Year's Day, without spending tons of money--like going to Longwood Gardens (but with Mario being sick I didn't think being around pollen would help!) and going to the aquarium was expensive for the 4 of us to go. So I had a brainstorm, and when I looked it up, it seemed to be a great idea! Ocean City, NJ is our go to vacation spot. We can go there for day trips, weekend trips, overnight trips, or week long vacations. They have a celebration called "First Night" which culminates with fireworks on the beach at midnight to ring in the New Year. The next day, its a shopping extravaganza, a 5K run on the beach, and the "1st day at the beach" where people gather in silly costumes, and take their first dip of the year into the Atlantic. I brought the idea up to Mario, and while he still felt crappy, he was okay with it. So we went to pick up the girls, and presented the idea to his parents, to see if they wanted to go with us. We asked my sister and law and her boyfriend too. But all politely declined.
 |
| People getting ready to swim! |
That was okay--we piled into the van, and off we went. We arrived in Ocean City around 12, and set out to find a parking spot. Ocean City was crazy! It was full of people, parking lots were full, and the roads were still covered in snow so street parking was tough. We went to a parking we were familar with that was near the boardwalk, the bathrooms and our pizza stop. And what do you know...we found a spot right away! Normally this erupts into fighting and yelling...instead we were happy and smiling--go figure!
So we went up the boardwalk, and my girls saw snow on the beach for the first time. They were so confused! I'll post pictures. It is surreal seeing snow on the beach, but so unique too. We sat down in our favorite pizza place, Mack and Manco's, and ordered a large cheese pie, and 2 slices of white for my oldest, with 3 birch beers and 1 lemonade. While this is our usual when we go to the beach in the summer, to do it New Year's Day was sweet, and nice, and gave the negative view I had for 2011 a bit of a positive spin. Maybe life can go back to normal after all. When we were eating, my husband's phone rang, and it was his mom--they had decided to come after all! We laughed--we knew she couldn't stay away. But she and my father in law were just walking the boards. We could catch up with them later.We finished up lunch, with pregnant women and infants in strollers walking around with no break downs. Then we walked on the beach, and while it was a bit nippy, we found a spot to observe the people jumping in the water at 2pm, and waited. We saw dogs, my girls ran and played in the sand/ snow. We laughed at costumes, and shook our heads at the girls and guys walking around in just their swimsuits (keep in mind it was about 48 degrees F yesterday, with a slight breeze). And then, the countdown started, and a noise signaled for everyone to jump in (I think it was a noise, like a horn, but I'm not sure)...and right away you heard squeals and squeaks and yelps as people hit the cold water. It was amusing!! As we walked away, my oldest told me she wanted to do that one year, and so did my youngest. I told them fine, I'll be waiting with the towels on the beach. We went and got my oldest funnel cake, and my youngest asked for cotton candy (which they didn't have), so she settled for gummi worms instead from Shrivers.
As we walked back to the car, I reflected as to what a great tradition we started. Take a great summertime tradition, but start it on the first day of the New Year. There was a feeling of contentment that I felt, of reassurance, that life isn't all sad, going through our family's traditions of the Ocean City boardwalk. And while my little boy won't be joining us next summer, there was a part of me that knew he was the reason we started the new tradition this year, so that in the summer maybe I won't be as upset.
Here's to new traditions in this new year!
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