Monday, October 28, 2013

All you need is love

Yesterday was my due date. Did you know that I was pregnant earlier this year? One minute I was pregnant, and we were rejoicing. (A baby! A baby!) The next minute we were a tad overwhelmed. (Wait, a third baby! A third baby?) And then, almost in what seemed like the next minute, I was not.  

The peculiar thing about miscarriage, the one aspect of it that I still cannot comprehend, is that a life is lost. One day, we had a baby: I was going to be a mother of three. The next day: The heartbeat had stopped; unbeknownst to me. One day, there were two hearts here. Two lives here. A family of five. The next day, there was only me.
This past week started out as pretty glum, but then we brought dinner to a friend who welcomed a little girl into the world two weeks ago. I talked to a friend who has waited for years for a little one to arrive in their lives, and in the past eight weeks is finally adjusting to being a family of three. I heard that a friend of mine is being induced today. I rubbed the belly of a close friend who is expecting her first baby in a matter of months. And another close friend is expecting their first baby, after years of waiting patiently, in the upcoming weeks. I know, I know, that these aren’t really linked, but somehow I cannot help feeling that they are. The incurable idealistic hippy in me likes to think that we are all connected just a little bit and that everything happens for a reason, you know?

My entire life, I could always think of something that I would have changed or done differently if I could. I would have studied harder or told the truth. I would have called one more time. I would have run more miles. I would have written one last letter. And for the first time in the past seven months, I am realizing that I have made peace with our loss. I listen to my girls playing and laughing together. I embrace their slobbery kisses and I am convinced that I could not have done anything differently. I have, once again, been humbled, and reminded that we are not in control. I have, once again, been reminded of the fragility of life. I have two amazing girls and beyond-my-wildest-dreams of a husband.

We have so much love.

Tuesday, October 08, 2013

Lots o'Apples

One of the things J and I said we were going to do in 2013 was to take more day trips and weekend getaways to the areas around San Francisco. As you can see, it’s almost the end of 2013 and we’ve pretty much failed ourselves entirely, but we did also have “get a promotion” (which Jim got two), and “pay off one student loan” on that list, so we can probably call it even.

(Side note about that first thing: J promoted in his company. This has been a big work in progress since the beginning of the year, and the official promotion came a two weeks ago, which gives him a pleasing sense of validation as well as a flurry of Linked In-related updating, and of course, fancy Chimay beer bought from Costco consumed alongside some steak fajitas.)

Anyways! All this to say a couple of weekends ago, we spend the day apple picking. Doesn’t that sound delightful? Doesn’t that sound so family friendly, northern Californian, and a perfect way to spend a fall Sunday afternoon? I mean, look at this orchard!

At the orchard, we picked apples until our arms hurt and then we went to feed the cows all the apples in which the girls had “sampled.” Once we paid for our share of apples, we headed over to the coast for a picnic lunch. We had grand plans of finding a park for the kids to run around in, but we ended up eating in the back of our cars.
After a picnic lunch, we headed out to Laugintas where we drank beer and generally congratulated ourselves on a pretty perfect day, before heading back down to the East Bay suburbia.
Whoa boys, try to contain your enthusiasm about apple picking. It’s getting embarrassing.

It was such a fun day spent with friends. As for the apples, I have used a few to make apple pecan bread, chicken sausage and apple faro, used a few in a dinner salad, and gave five to Daisy to take to preschool for apple week. The rest of them are waiting to be made into applesauce.