Encounter

I lost my locket.

Well ok, I didn't lose it, rather I think it's on loan. While my Mom was in town, I had a chance to visit my grandmother, Lola (in our language), who is in a care home. I leaned over my Lola so she could get a close look at me, with my Mom telling her who I was, who I was married to (it's so cute that my Lola remembers him more than me at times), my nickname. My locket caught her 94-year-old eyes and she immediately lifted her head even only slightly. Her eyes widened and in her language she asked, "Will you give this to me?"

At first I hesitated, because it was the cheap and cheerful locket that wannabe dad got at your favorite store and mine, the one with the big red dot inside the circle, the piece of jewelry besides my left hand rings that I wear daily except in the shower, the one that I turn around on the highway for if I happen to forget it, and it was my mother's day gift. I did remove it from my neck, open it, and because it's cheap and cheerful, caught the little silver piece that held Cerina's picture in its tiny section of the frame, then upon instruction from my Mom, held it up to Lola's eyes so she could kinda make out the images of her great-granddaughters.

I asked my Mom if Lola knew about them, because the timing of her fall and hip fracture and surgery and hospital stay was a week and a half before I went into the hospital for my own two-week stay (geez that makes it sound like a vacation). And I wasn't adamant about having her know what happened especially because of her condition. So my Mom explained the pictures, that they were my daughters, kambal (twins), that they were born early, that they died, that they were in heaven playing with Tatay (my Mom's dad, my grandfather). As my Mom was explaining this, Lola was slowly winding the chain around her stiff fingers, and when she finished, then she put her hands down and closed her eyes. Only a short time, because my Mom gently held up Lola's hands, found the locket, and said "Kiss your granddaughters" and held the locket to her lips. It wasn't an obvious kiss, yet I was relieved that she knew what happened (I think she understood) with the girls and that she finally "met" them.

Needless to say, my Mom and I were both crying, and after Lola let go of the chain and locket I hung it on the wall in her room so the girls could "be" with their great-gramma. It gives me comfort when I think of where it is.

Was

In anticipation of this day, I remember what it was like last year. Innocence intact, happiness abundant, babies developing quite nicely at 16 weeks. We had a quiet celebration planned at the mixed-oriental cuisine restaurant, then people [and food] started showing up -- two college girlfriends (one was late as usual), my cousins, then plates of sushi, calamari, pad thai, general tsao's chicken. Cooked stuff and mocktails for me, raw fish and Asa.hi for them.



Wannabe dad scoured a 20 mile radius area for my favorite, lemon cake. Alas, nothing, save for a lemon-frosted vanilla cake. He also managed to drum up a piano, and snuck it in the house while we were still at lunch.

It was a happy time, and when I look at the pictures from my birthday last year I am amazed at how my face has changed. Others may not see it, but I definitely do. Even if I am laughing like crazy the sadness is there, just below the surface.

Happy somber birthday to me. I was actually relieved to shed some tears this morning as I read through the cards from wannabe dad, the fur family, and the girls. It's been a while for these eyes.

Anxiety

I've had this sinking feeling in my belly for the past two days.

Possible contributors:
-I am leaving my job, where I've been for 6 years, 8 months, and 24 days
-I am reviewing resumes for assistants to hire for our business
-We're looking at getting an office space for our business
-I finished a marketing plan that started at 7 pages, then accidently saved a blank copy of it (stoopid! stoopid!), then managed to find an old version of it, then recreated what I lost, then it turned out to be 17 pages and a damn good 17 pages, and I only charged for 3.5 hours worth of work.
-It's C.D31 and I've been spotting for the last 6 days, what I would characterize as old blood as it's brownish red and scant, like it's pre-A.F but she hasn't arrived yet. No temperature rise. This mid-cycl.e spot.ting has happened in the last two cycles. I've talked myself into end.om.etriosis, but I don't have pa.inful perio.ds, in fact there are zero cram.ps unlike pre-pregna.ncy. If A.F doesn't show up in the next 2 days then it's off to the doc I go. And it's an anovu.latory c.ycle but my pe.riods have been luscious in similar cycles.
-Our lawn is going to the pee-er and the pooper because of Kaleo. We must find the time to create a little sandy nook in our yard exclusively for him, but the problem is location. We weren't strategic in the design of our backyard, oh 2 years ago, to accommodate a dog.
-I need breakfast, then I'm off on the 45-minute windy road for 20 miles then 10 miles in heavy traffic commute to work.

At least my mommy is coming tomorrow. (Not sarcastic; I adore her.)


P.S. If there are any unhelpful comments in your head, please keep them there. You know who you are.
P.S. A moment of silence for the 6 year anniversary.

Countdown

End of the day, finally caught her to give her the dreaded letter. She looked at me, I gave her the "I really hate to do this but this place is driving me nuts I don't know how much more I can stand so I need to do this before I actually go nuts" look, and she just asked me one question:

"When?"

In two weeks I'll be free -- to clear my mind, to focus, to find some steady clients. Wannabe dad and I have a creative/marketing agency that we're building up (he=creative; me=marketing) and in our little town and surrounding areas we're getting our name out. He is ecstatic. I am ecstatic, relieved. Now if we could just make a baby. After this anovulatory cycle, we're on it. Or he's on me, whatever.

I also need to buy that darn health insurance. We need to find a sugar daddy. Look, I'm already starting my list of to-do's.

Housekeeping

So many piles of stuff, stuff dating back to the fateful days of last November. As we begin a new month it is eerie that I was even pregnant just a year ago. I was entering my fourth month, it was so hot where I live, my car's air conditioning as iffy as my cervix (at least I got a new car). I remember exactly what I did a week before being rushed to the hospital, a few days before, the day before. Last week at work, I dumped a bunch of old magazines, emails, project papers, from that time last year. Subconsciously it's in preparation to where I am headed.

I never felt right about coming back to work, but alas those hospital bills had to get paid (and still do). Even now as I think of leaving the thought just terrifies me. I'm one of those steady paycheck kind of people. Wannabe dad has been a freelancer/consultant for 99.9% of his career, so his terror left him a long time ago. But I think of my sanity and the stress level that my body harbors even if I feel like my mind is clear, and this is what I have to do. There have been so many carrots dangled ("if you do this, we'll promote you,"), and frankly, they're starting to shrivel and smell.

As for options, I've got several, so I'm not completely up shit creek without a job and a paddle. Besides, I still need to pay for all those M.ay.an massages.

Musings

I'm looking forward to the M.aya Ma.ssage appointment tomorrow. I found the resource through Vegetarian Mom. I hope it brings me balance and even more hope.
***
Lunch with two friends yesterday was a little stressful because of the one friend. She is going through relationship issues and was absent-minded enough to tell me that I should be grateful that I don't have to do the whole dating thing. I had the presence to mind to tell her that she should be grateful that she didn't have two babies die on her. Next time, lunch is going to include wine.
***
While programming a phone, wannabe dad asked me "honey, what's the time?" So naturally, I told him it was time to get ill. "Oh shit, I walked into that one" he said.
***
I can't remember when it started, when I was pregnant with the twins that I had to eat 6 small meals a day to avoid the unbearable bloating I felt after eating. I remember seeing women who were further along in their pregnancies eating like there was no tomorrow, plates piled high. I carried Cerina (baby a) literally between my hip bones, which half explains the pants thing, and possibly explains the feeling of super-fullness even after just half a sandwich. Was she perhaps too low? I also had to use a binder clip to keep my seatbelt loose around my belly. What a sight.
***
The banana tree has little "fingers" of fruit but those kids don't look like they are maturing. Is this a theme in my house or what? Except the kittens, of course, who are getting big. Pretty soon we'll have 3 chubby kitties running around here.
***
My mom had a hys.ter.ectomy when she was 46. She had me at 38, my brother at 37. He was the miracle baby, as docs told her she wouldn't be able to have children because she had clots (I'm thinking end.ometr.iosis?) and a D.&C to clean them out. Previous to that she was in a car accident which may have jarred things up. She is also looking into the M.aya Mas.sage as is my Dad with his funky pro.state issues.
***
I hope this week isn't too crazy.

Found

Just returned from the Farmers' Market with my weekly bouquet of flowers for the girls. The flowers were wrapped in newspaper and I couldn't help but read, and share.

*Edited to add: I'm sure her parents had their reasons for not telling her. I don't think it's necessarily her right to know. Perhaps if the parents had grief counseling at the time of their loss, they would have been better equipped to deal with how to tell their youngest daughter. Not telling her also put pressure on the other siblings and didn't let them talk about or connect with the memory of their angel brother.