Figuring out how to be both

Jill was my first friend when I moved to Tallahassee.  

She might be one of the first people I ever visited in a hospital after having a kid.

Jill was my first person to text the day morning after I found out about dad.  

She is ... was a beacon of positivity in a life that had seen so much tragedy.  She lost both parents before she was done being a teenager.  

Right as I was starting to tell people about being pregnant, Jill got in a fatal car crash and was taken off life support 2 or 3 weeks later.  I never got to tell her I was pregnant. 

I will not get to talk to her about my dad again.  

I am an ass for thinking anything about how I am affected by her absence. 

I hate that she's not in this world. 

I hate that she's not with her 4 kids. 

I hate everything so much.

She was somehow awake the morning I text her in Sept.  It would've

been about 7 in FL.  I woke up with panic and tears and not ready to text other friends. 

She sent this:

I still have her other texts.  The one I remember is this is going to be hard.  Really she said, 

"Best advice to you though is to love with all your being and allow yourself to receive love with all your being as you go through this.  It will be one of the hardest emotional journeys but if you allow, you will be able to learn more about yourself and be there for your dad with no regrets.  This is all easier said than done."

I was always amazed at how Jill could live her life the way she did with the sadness she had had. 

She always gathered others together:  Xmas cookie swaps, pumpkin carving parties, girls' nights out... I will draw inspiration from her (and others) but especially her when the crap is crappy.  

I also am blogging to use this is as my journal... Jill also said, "Start journaling - it's helped me."

So here I am.

Kitty picture break.

January-- not my favorite.  We went home again for MLK weekend. 

Dad was weaker.  Mom was freaking out about him and the house. 

How am I supposed to be happy about a baby?    I'll tell you how.  

After you get home, cry some more, take a bump pic for the people who are asking, then go to the doctor and get scary dooms day news.  

20 week apt. was 3 days after this.  Big ultrasound. Joe came for first time.  Met the doctor. 

Doctor comes in and I ask her about possible mental health options for me because I just don't know how I'm handling things. 

Then, "the baby has a cyst in it's head.  Sometimes that can be a marker for Trisomy 18."

I crumble inside and am convinced that's what it is.  Joe here's the "98 percent of the time these cyst go away and don't mean anything" and would've probably moved on with his life.  I ruin it.  

There's the other 2 percent.  Why not me?  Why not my baby?  The 2 percent has to be somebody.  

Meanwhile, Katie goes into labor and Ruby is born.  We go by sonic to pick up milkshakes for them.  That's when my control spins out and I'm crying and Joe's crying and I'm ruining it. 

I want a healthy baby.  I want something happy to work out. 

Silver lining, I'm not sad about my dad in this moment.  

We go to hospital and literally see baby Ruby an hour or 2 after birth.  

Katie asks about my 20 week.  I try to gloss over it the first time but later it comes out.  

I tell my sister in law this news on the night she has her second birth. 

I am the Grinch that stole newborn excitement. 

This pic isn't in the hospital but soon after they go home.

All conversation about baby stops.  I walk by the ultrasound on the fridge every day and look at the hands and feet.  

Doc said there were no other markers.  Clenched hands.  Clubbed feet. 

"But that hand is sort of clenched, isn't it?"

Google pics of healthy and unhealthy baby ultrasounds.

Googling is dumb and I do it and I go nuts inside waiting on blood tests that take a week and a half. 

Students at school ask about me and comment with excitement and I just pretend. 

Some people I tell, really depending on my mood... depending on if they ask. 

This quote is what I keep in my head.  This quote and Jill and journaling.  The beginnings of my coping armory that I'm slowly amassing. 

Meanwhile, Donald Trump is burning down the world.  But we marched on a pretty Saturday and baby Ruby was there and it was a happy day despite my doomed baby thoughts.

Thank you, Mary Tyler Moore, for your life.  Your death brought out memories and news stories on you that were uplifting...as well as this quote.   

As if things weren't low enough, while waiting on baby blood work - I get the stomach bug or something.  Then sinus and chest cold attack.  By the end of the week I was as low as I could go and wasn't even adding Dad sadness to the equation.  

I'd have to wait A WHOLE NOTHER weekend before finding out test results.  

Joe moves a mattress into the living room to avoid my sicknesses.  

Sunday afternoon we're napping.  I wake up to the voicemail of good news, results were negative.  

I love you, doctor.  You called me on a Sunday oh my gosh I love you. 

I kick Joe and start spreading the news.  

We can be happy again.  

We can talk about a nursery again. 

We can say things under the assumption that baby will be ok.  

"for now" - says the dark side of my brain.  SHUT UP.

"until the next landmine explodes" - shut up shut UP!

But I do manage to shut that voice up sometimes and for sure 

the next week it is quiet and I am happy. 

For just a moment I am driving home from work, talking to mom about nursery stuff, and I feel it. 

Normal - or a glimpse into what this all would be like without cancer.

It would be so so great. -- Ok now quick back to the quote before I cry

"it's what is happening and not what SHOULD happen."

Juicy is not phased by the good news.... but to be fair she wasn't phased by the bad news either. 

The next week is bliss.  Light and airy and smiles.  

We go to Jackson and see so many friends at council and other places. 

Then mom texts Saturday.  Dad got sick and is getting fluids and is so dehydrated and weak and is going to skip chemo this week and needs home health and physical therapy and I just cry.

Ah, yes.  This is where I live.  This place is more familiar than bliss week.  Pregnant happiness there but buried deep under dad sadness.  But now, the bright side is I am not also stressed about a blood test.  

This roller coaster though - Mrs. Noble.  Science teacher at our school who is also fighting cancer that was also diagnosed in Sept.  She is part of my armory.  

Jill, journaling, quote and Mrs. Noble.  

She's got a strong Jesus/God thing in her that is getting her through

and it is comforting and inspiring even if the words themselves are hard (impossible?) 

for me to believe/find comfort in.  The person she is gives me strength - and that person is fiercely faithful.  

Besides council we 

Saw Mary Ellen  

Watched the Chargers win soccer state championships.  Go Charley. 

And met baby Rue.  

The humidifier came to Jackson with us.  Clearly, Juicy missed it. 

The bump really bumped out around week 22 and 23.  

I was going to take some cuter clothes pics but by the time I get home and Joe gets home -- I'm in these giant, baggy numbers.  Why can't I just wear my sweatpants every day.

Bet just left our house and now it's much more prepared for a baby

This rug and some furniture...

And new stuff for our bedroom...

Mom should be here to but ..."it's not what should happen" -- it's what's happening. 

Also add the new podcast "Terrible, thanks for asking" to my armory.  Thanks, Elise. 

My new skill (or one I'm working on) - How to feel both happiness for baby and intense sadness for dad.  The seesaw isn't working.  Back and forth and back and forth between ups and downs.  

I'm looking for more of a whirlpool of both -- which makes more room for the fear and anxiety to also join in.  B/c they are there... they don't want to be left out.  And they are certainly not leaving any time soon.  

These things I feel...

Jan. 8 2017

Just got off the phone with mom.  I can't talk to her without crying at some point.  Sure, at first we can pregnancy and baby talk and for a moment it's like how it would be if.... the big fucking IF of this year.  IF dad didn't have cancer, that's all we would happily discuss is the slight discomfort of my tailbone while sleeping.  But instead, the moment fades and "So, how's dad doing" is the next question.
He's faint, he's skinny, he's using granddaddy's rolling walker, he's not moving enough...eating enough, grandpa is worried, Lori teared up, grandpa teared up, mom is glad she didn't know Dylan freaked out because she can only deal with so many people's shit.  I know that.  So she certainly can't hear about my shit.  But I don't know who.  Joe just cries and crumbles when I do.  He can't bounce back.  I know he doesn't get a pass.  But in the end, it doesn't help me to crumble to him.

I pretty much laid it out for my friends... but don't think they really get it.  Don't know what I expect to hear in return.  And there's really nothing anyone can say or do to make anything better.

Baby shower -- no.  Why?  What if something goes wrong and there's no baby?  Well, that will be sad then I'll have all this baby stuff and no baby.   But that gives me less anxiety than the other outcome.

What if there is a baby... and mom can't be here like she would've been.  How can she be.  Dad needs her.  I need her to be with dad.  Dad won't be here.  Dad will be tired or sick or dead.  It is my mom's story except she had no mom as her babies were coming.  Why.  WHY.  Why is this my story?   Why did this happen?  The only answer I have is to take it day by day.  No thinking of the past.  No looking at pics of happy, fatter dad.  No thinking of June 1 and how dad will be then.  Just today.  And so no thinking about a baby shower because what if there is no baby but what if there is and mom can't come to the shower.  These are things you don't say to people.  But instead the pretending and smooshing down the anxiety that boils up when someone says "our kids will be in school together" or "this time next year you'll have a baby at xmas"  --- that's if there is a baby.   But if there is a baby... what if then?

So you think you can bump

Beginning of Thanksgiving was the HAMILTON TRIP!   

Lesson learned:  Never ride a bus for longer than 10 minutes.  We left after school on Friday at 4 and got into Chicago at like 2 a.m.   No no never again.

First lunch - Chicago Pizza! Yes, thank you, please.

If there are words to describe how great this experience was -- I'm sure someone else more eloquent has written them.  I cried and cried and still cried later when I got home and listened to the music again.  A tiny bit of drama of a drunk ass yelling in the middle of the play, but nothing could ruin this night.

SO cold.  Not moving to Chicago.  

Sunday night, after a day of touring / sleeping in museums, free time until leaving = adult time, bye kids.  Oh and earlier that day Joe and I feel asleep in the lobby of the modern art institute.  When we woke up, an Asian couple walked up and asked if we were part of an exhibit.  "No, we fell asleep."

The adults ate and drank adult things and my fam stopped by to say hey.  All weekend I was like, 

"Do I tell Carly now?  Do I tell Bet now?  Nah, stick to the plan of wait until Thanksgiving and I'll just call Carly." -- b/c I wasn't quite ready to tell teacher friends. 

What actually happened: 

Small talk, Chicago, blah blah, Hamilton, yap yap. 

Conversation pause. 

Carly:  I'm pregnant

Me:  Silent, wide-eyed and then "Me too"

Lots of squealing- especially from Bet.  

Finally the boys catch on to what just happened and more laughing, loud story telling and photos.  

Lots of happiness.

Needless to say, the teacher friends found out.   Less secrets.  Much better.  

Drove all night and thankfully had the whole break to recover. 

Kitty life - unchanged by new pregnant owner.

They have their favorites. 

Finally started calling people during the break and telling them.  

End of the break wen to Meridian.  Dylan had blurted it out to Matthew on the phone b/c he thought he already knew since Dylan already knew about Carly.  

Matthew and Menton are pretty strong to this Thanksgiving memory b/c a) They were some of the last of that family to find out but mainly b) they came over to see Dad and he fell - or almost fell - when he tried to stand up.  Matthew caught him. 

Low blood pressure and the beginning of the weakening of my dad.  

I'll wait until we leave Meridian to cry about it.  

Friday, we all went down to south Mississippi to "The Old Place" 

Grandpa redid his old family home, where he was born along with his 9 other siblings.  

Florian, Percy, June bug, I can't name them all.  

This side of the family never does stuff like this.  It was great.

Dad came down for lunch with grandpa.  It was hard for me not to be sad to see him interact with my cousins kids.  And watching my uncle Mike be a grandpa.  One time he was pretending to squish baby Helen against the fridge.  Who is going to pretend to squish my baby against a fridge?   

Waterworks start once we are out of the driveway.  

So we call some more people to tell them I'm pregnant.  It sort of helps but when I start crying, Joe cries and he is just totally wiped out from crying... I feel like it's just become another thing I do.  

Oxford Xmas parade.  Year 2 for the blackjack sailing float.  

Her head on his arm.  <3

This is like week 14.  There is no bump.  I thought there was.  

Looks like I'm just showing off my ab workout results. 

6 days later (and not first thing in the morning) - more of a bump.  

We left this day to go to Tishimingo state park with friends.  But then Sat. I started feeling bad and couldn't breathe and was panicking that I was sick and wouldn't be able to come home 

to see Dad at Xmas and we gotta go back to Oxford bye.  

Xmas present for Dixie's daughter - not from us.  We were just the elves.  

Really, I just didn't take many Xmas pictures.  Too sad.  

Why bother?

Xmas picture I took #1 - Matthew's paper crown broke

Xmas pic #2 - someone else took.

Xmas also entailed:  Shaving the rest of Dad's hair off.  Buying tattoos to stick on his head.  

Not crying as much when we left.  Oh and purchasing a humidifier b/c my sinuses are all crazy and it's pregnancy's fault. 

Charley and Katie got a Griswald size tree.  It fell like 3 times. 

Putting Santa stuff together for Keith. 

"Emily, this time next year you'll have a BABY?!"

Me:  Maybe. 

I enter full on doom's day prep mode.  

No one is guaranteed a healthy baby.  

At some point I have my 16 week apt. over Xmas.  

Nothing wrong so far.  

But still.  

Sabatier Xmas morning.  We gave no gifts this year.  It was lovely.  

I am now Scrooge and the Grinch. 

Ann Marie's baby did not come and did not come.  

Then it did... He.  Then HE did.  I'm really bad at itting all over babies.

We took a side bump pic.  But - there's just nothing there worth calling a bump on me.  

Ann Marie is way past the bump stage.  Full on 9 pound beach ball in there.

I made it to Jackson 1 night.  Anna doesn't take bump pics but this is me and her pregnant together. 

Breakfast with the best.  But this trip is when I started to wonder if I should talk to someone. 

Talk of baby names and baby showers only induced anxiety. 

Several levels.  

1) What if something is / goes wrong with baby

2)  Mom will not be able to come to anything

3) My dad has cancer and what if what if what IF

But hey there's a new baby in town so that's happy. 

Banner Stanton.

Rain on homecoming day means Joe and Emily get super creative with decorations.

Linda and Sue helped. 

This was actually New Year's eve day.   Joe did the cups.

Linda made that bow from a table cloth.

NYE was not at our house for the 1st time 2 yeas.  We got dressed up and went to Ajax. 

 I wore a shiny top, struggled to stay awake and then gave in to dancing

to Whitney Houston.  

Took no pics.  Again, why bother?  But hopefully I'm coming out of that phase.  

I took this pic once in bed:

"Joe we gotta have something to remember NYE by."

If only I thought 2017 was going to be better. 

If only I thought anything was going to be ok. 

If only I could just not think.