Perusing the local paper while visiting the girls yesterday, we found out that the Deacon who performed their funeral last December passed away two weeks ago of heart failure.
Ohhhh it brought tears to my eyes. There was his low-res, jaggedy, pixilated image (could the paper have not taken better care of this??), he was smiling. Wannabe dad saw the picture first before reading the headline that showcased him. The Deacon moved to this area from big metro city three years ago. He leaves behind a wife, two sons, two daughters in law, three grandchildren (girls).
At the funeral his voice wavered, he looked nervous, his hands shook. I thought it was strange, then again how often does one do a funeral ceremony for two babies? He was clearly affected by our loss. He was kindly, late 50s, early 60s I guessed. He was so sad for us, and he read some poems that he brought with him. I'll never forget what he said, and it seemed horrifying for me not knowing anyone who had gone through this before: sometimes when this happens, the couple goes their separate ways. If you ever need to talk, please, please call me. You need each other now more than ever.
I couldn't even fathom being alone in my grief. Without wannabe dad. From that point I was conscious to not shut him out, and to let him know when I was feeling awful. We always check in with each others' feelings, and respect that any situation (read: when babies/pgs/conversations about them are in our midst) could potentially freak us out.
After the funeral we made a donation to the church, in a thank-you card to the Deacon for his services. This week we will send a card to the family, letting them know how he touched our lives and held us together, and how sorry we are for their loss. And because we know better, we'll leave out those words of comfort that are anything but.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Cold
Can't completely answer the question if I was coldhearted before my twins died. I guess we'll never know.
The family that benefited from a fundraiser sponsored by a local women's networking group has a child (their 4th) with a heart defect. Baby is on oxygen, was in the PICU for two months. Typically when a baby has health issues, the normal reaction is to give. So I gave. At the fundraiser, the emcee was so choked up that she couldn't talk about why all 80 women gave up a Friday night to be there for this family. Those with no connection to the family had no idea what was wrong with the baby, what the plans were for this money, or how dire the need was.
The mother attended the event, the dad and the kids stopped by for an appearance. At the end of the night I scoped out the scrapbook that the mom made (very touching), and before I left I shared with her my short story about the girls. She was kind enough to ask how they were doing, and I kindly told her (not in a mean way, goodness I'm not that awful). She shared that she thought if this happened to her first child she would be freaked out, and I'm sure she's scared shitless, more so than she let on.
I think my whole problem with the event was that it was only to the benefit of one family. They have bills to pay. Geez, I have bills to pay. Maybe if I was rolling in dough I wouldn't have had a problem. We'll never know.
The Walk was interesting. We ended up not helping out (outside of bringing overpriced cookies, the event not being near any of our favorite cheap and cheerful markets, but we were still acknowledged in the program), the coordinator who asked us to help also asked many other people to help. So we took our places on the ill-padded folding chairs, not helping, and waited while attendees placed pictures and mementoes on the makeshift stage in the middle of the (small) room. We forgot ours, so we took off our black rubber made in china bracelets (4 of them) and strung them together and placed them at the base of a small vase with flowers, and I took out my wallet sized photo of the girls and placed it there too.
Now it may have been my high expectations of a more personal, heart-tugging event, or a larger room, or a longer walk, or more comfy seats, and while I was expecting the other parents to be expecting, or toting brand newborns, I didn't think it would have affected me that much. (I knew one couple that gave birth in September but didn't bring their baby.) Some of the parents were considerate enough to walk their babies out into the courtyard, but some were just so clueless and because there were no microphones it was really hard to hear the speaker when the children used their mall voices, especially as she got emotional while recounting her experience. The lights were initially turned down for mood but turned back up because she couldn't very well read in the dark!
They read the names of the babies and apologized for mispronunciations, they handed out gerbera daisies and a tealight candle with a holder to each family. Perhaps two more speakers would have helped. Perhaps people reading their poems or letters to their babies. Definitely a larger room, so we wouldn't have felt bad about bumping into other people and their babies while trying to get cookies. I don't know. I don't know what others thought of the event, it has been going on for 10 years. I should get involved for next year and stop complaining.
I did have a lump in my throat the whole time.
The family that benefited from a fundraiser sponsored by a local women's networking group has a child (their 4th) with a heart defect. Baby is on oxygen, was in the PICU for two months. Typically when a baby has health issues, the normal reaction is to give. So I gave. At the fundraiser, the emcee was so choked up that she couldn't talk about why all 80 women gave up a Friday night to be there for this family. Those with no connection to the family had no idea what was wrong with the baby, what the plans were for this money, or how dire the need was.
The mother attended the event, the dad and the kids stopped by for an appearance. At the end of the night I scoped out the scrapbook that the mom made (very touching), and before I left I shared with her my short story about the girls. She was kind enough to ask how they were doing, and I kindly told her (not in a mean way, goodness I'm not that awful). She shared that she thought if this happened to her first child she would be freaked out, and I'm sure she's scared shitless, more so than she let on.
I think my whole problem with the event was that it was only to the benefit of one family. They have bills to pay. Geez, I have bills to pay. Maybe if I was rolling in dough I wouldn't have had a problem. We'll never know.
The Walk was interesting. We ended up not helping out (outside of bringing overpriced cookies, the event not being near any of our favorite cheap and cheerful markets, but we were still acknowledged in the program), the coordinator who asked us to help also asked many other people to help. So we took our places on the ill-padded folding chairs, not helping, and waited while attendees placed pictures and mementoes on the makeshift stage in the middle of the (small) room. We forgot ours, so we took off our black rubber made in china bracelets (4 of them) and strung them together and placed them at the base of a small vase with flowers, and I took out my wallet sized photo of the girls and placed it there too.
Now it may have been my high expectations of a more personal, heart-tugging event, or a larger room, or a longer walk, or more comfy seats, and while I was expecting the other parents to be expecting, or toting brand newborns, I didn't think it would have affected me that much. (I knew one couple that gave birth in September but didn't bring their baby.) Some of the parents were considerate enough to walk their babies out into the courtyard, but some were just so clueless and because there were no microphones it was really hard to hear the speaker when the children used their mall voices, especially as she got emotional while recounting her experience. The lights were initially turned down for mood but turned back up because she couldn't very well read in the dark!
They read the names of the babies and apologized for mispronunciations, they handed out gerbera daisies and a tealight candle with a holder to each family. Perhaps two more speakers would have helped. Perhaps people reading their poems or letters to their babies. Definitely a larger room, so we wouldn't have felt bad about bumping into other people and their babies while trying to get cookies. I don't know. I don't know what others thought of the event, it has been going on for 10 years. I should get involved for next year and stop complaining.
I did have a lump in my throat the whole time.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Monday, October 8, 2007
Beginning
And so begins my new career as one half of a team of two entrepreneurs.
No fanfare, no party, no balloons, no decadent chocolate cake, no after-work celebration. At my request, of course. I was, however, treated to lunch three times last week which was really nice, and the department baker (whom I lovingly named "Sugah, Buttah, and Flowah") sent me away with vanilla bean cakes properly molded into ladybugs and butterflies. That was 10/4 and the past week has been busy getting to know the new office, working on office procedures, filing the accumulated pile, while contributing to that bottom line. Only now, that bottom line is very visible to me. (Why is it so low?)
I did, however, manage to squeeze in a creative moment of creating a quilt square for the Walk, which is tonight. Now when I say creating, that means printing out an image with our girls' names, the important dates, and loving words on a computer store-supplied iron-on transfer, rummaging through the closet for a swatch of fabric - I found a Hawaiian print fabric, taupe with red and black flowers - and ironing said transfer with image on the swatch. Which is difficult to do with three cats at my feet and a bone-chewing dog just outside the door. But I managed, and while the square is not craft guild-worthy, it's something.
And I cut it too small, but I'll provide an extra 10"x10" square so hopefully the kind soul who will assemble the quilt from all the parents in mourning will fashion some fix for my sad contribution once it's ready to be sewn to the others.
No fanfare, no party, no balloons, no decadent chocolate cake, no after-work celebration. At my request, of course. I was, however, treated to lunch three times last week which was really nice, and the department baker (whom I lovingly named "Sugah, Buttah, and Flowah") sent me away with vanilla bean cakes properly molded into ladybugs and butterflies. That was 10/4 and the past week has been busy getting to know the new office, working on office procedures, filing the accumulated pile, while contributing to that bottom line. Only now, that bottom line is very visible to me. (Why is it so low?)
I did, however, manage to squeeze in a creative moment of creating a quilt square for the Walk, which is tonight. Now when I say creating, that means printing out an image with our girls' names, the important dates, and loving words on a computer store-supplied iron-on transfer, rummaging through the closet for a swatch of fabric - I found a Hawaiian print fabric, taupe with red and black flowers - and ironing said transfer with image on the swatch. Which is difficult to do with three cats at my feet and a bone-chewing dog just outside the door. But I managed, and while the square is not craft guild-worthy, it's something.
And I cut it too small, but I'll provide an extra 10"x10" square so hopefully the kind soul who will assemble the quilt from all the parents in mourning will fashion some fix for my sad contribution once it's ready to be sewn to the others.
I don't know what to expect tonight. The counselor from our support group asked us to be there a half hour early to help set up, and could we please bring some cookies. It might be helpful to be a part of the set-up crew, I don't know.
What I do know is that we are about a month away from Cerina and Nadia's 1 year birthday and 1 year death day. The week of the 18th to 24th of November I'm pretty sure will be funky for me, and even before that starting on the 8th, which was the day I was admitted to the hospital last year after seeing my OB so she could check out the tiny amount of bleeding I was experiencing. Not even an eighth of a teaspoon amount since it began three days prior, yet my cvx decided she should open and let a tiny amount of Cerina's bag bulge through.
Not now. I have a meeting in 1.2 seconds.
In the meantime, if anyone knows where I can get just one more of this decadent candy (besides France), do tell. Just one.
What I do know is that we are about a month away from Cerina and Nadia's 1 year birthday and 1 year death day. The week of the 18th to 24th of November I'm pretty sure will be funky for me, and even before that starting on the 8th, which was the day I was admitted to the hospital last year after seeing my OB so she could check out the tiny amount of bleeding I was experiencing. Not even an eighth of a teaspoon amount since it began three days prior, yet my cvx decided she should open and let a tiny amount of Cerina's bag bulge through.
Not now. I have a meeting in 1.2 seconds.
In the meantime, if anyone knows where I can get just one more of this decadent candy (besides France), do tell. Just one.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Advice
Two more days of driving that drive. Four more times of driving that road to my other job, which has been part time since March, which I've been since '00. So begins the next chapter of our lives as business owners and continuing the journey as wannabe parents. Many have traveled this road before us. I mentioned to wannabe dad that maybe we should hold off the wannabe part for 6 months. I thought it after we spent all weekend moving into our new office, then brought it up to him. And this is why I love him: he said that the timing is never going to be good, if it were 6 months from now we would say we should have started earlier. Hell, we started a year ago and a year before that. Which brings me to my next point.
My trusty OB. Such sage advice that woman had for me. I even brought my Chart of Temperatures. My carefully marked Chart of Menstrual Periods. My Super Duper Chart of When We Did It. I took her back to my first cycle after the babies were born and pointed out my Irregular Cycles. Even the 60-Day Cycle and the Spotting In-Between. She very easily counted back 14 days from the start of the next cycle for each month's chart that I showed her. She used Hearts on her chart, I use Happy Faces. She said she wasn't seeing enough Happy Faces. She wanted to see more Happy Faces. She wanted to see four Happy Faces in four days. Holy crap, I thought, we're Moving Out of our home office this weekend and for the next week and when are we going to squeeze in Happy Faces and I am Quitting My Job and starting a "new" one and we need to Get More Clients and we have to Walk the Dog twice a day and I have to Neuter the Kittens and Relocate a Plant in the backyard to Make a Poo Spot for Kaleo because our lawn is going to the shits and Wash the Car and Hook Up the DSL. She wants me to come back in 6 months if there is no bun in this oven.
***
The annual Walk to Remember is being held in my area on Thursday, October 11. If you live in the East Bay, CA or thereabouts and would like more information, please email me (look for it on the right side of the page). I would be happy to forward the info to you, and even meet you (as in, meet you, for the first time, in person) there. I've never been to it. I am looking forward to it. You can even bring a 7"x7" square (with 1/2" seam allowance) for a quilt that they make each year.
My trusty OB. Such sage advice that woman had for me. I even brought my Chart of Temperatures. My carefully marked Chart of Menstrual Periods. My Super Duper Chart of When We Did It. I took her back to my first cycle after the babies were born and pointed out my Irregular Cycles. Even the 60-Day Cycle and the Spotting In-Between. She very easily counted back 14 days from the start of the next cycle for each month's chart that I showed her. She used Hearts on her chart, I use Happy Faces. She said she wasn't seeing enough Happy Faces. She wanted to see more Happy Faces. She wanted to see four Happy Faces in four days. Holy crap, I thought, we're Moving Out of our home office this weekend and for the next week and when are we going to squeeze in Happy Faces and I am Quitting My Job and starting a "new" one and we need to Get More Clients and we have to Walk the Dog twice a day and I have to Neuter the Kittens and Relocate a Plant in the backyard to Make a Poo Spot for Kaleo because our lawn is going to the shits and Wash the Car and Hook Up the DSL. She wants me to come back in 6 months if there is no bun in this oven.
***
The annual Walk to Remember is being held in my area on Thursday, October 11. If you live in the East Bay, CA or thereabouts and would like more information, please email me (look for it on the right side of the page). I would be happy to forward the info to you, and even meet you (as in, meet you, for the first time, in person) there. I've never been to it. I am looking forward to it. You can even bring a 7"x7" square (with 1/2" seam allowance) for a quilt that they make each year.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, September 17, 2007
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.
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.
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