strange place

it is so hard to believe that 8 years is coming up in less than 2 weeks. it simply does not seem possible that Jesper has been gone that long, even though all of the evidence points clearly to the truth of it.

we failed again this year to get the missing angels bill passed. not only failed, but didn't even make it out of the first committee. regardless of what anyone thinks or says, i feel like it is my fault. i got very nervous and didn't present our case very clearly at all. not sure i answered questions right. i feel guilty. it is the only time i've ever had to do it alone. without Carin. and i feel like i let her down in a huge way. as i watched in absolute horror, the bill was blithely tabled as if it effected no one. i was distraught enough to make the governor's security detail nervous when i went up to see Keith after the committee meeting. i'm still pissed. i'm growing to very much dislike some of the legislators who are elected to office in this state. so much changed this year, too. new governor. new sponsor. and very soon a new representative. i won't quit, but i can't say i'm going to come out of the other side of this process with the same faith in people i had before.

this #8 feels odd for other reasons, too. Willow is starting to talk about Jesper a lot. we talk about how he is and always will be a baby. and of course babies need to have nur-nur (that's what she calls nursing). sometimes she will tell me that Jesper nur-nur's on her "ipple." i gently correct her and say that he was her brother. that someday she will nur-nur her own babies on her ipple, but that he is my baby.

three seems to be the popular number around here these days. feels like everyone either has 3, is having #3, or wants 3. sometimes i want 3, too. or is it that i just want #1 back, so that my set of 3 is complete? either way, it is a tiny stab of hurt when someone else has 3, and i have to learn to live with my incomplete set.

in january, my friend and midwife, Jinny died from cancer. she was a wonderful, amazing, strong, vibrant, funny, profound woman. i'm so glad that two of my babies were cared for by her. i feel blessed and privileged. i will miss her; i'm not alone in that, though. i miss her a lot right now in a way that probably not too many share with me.

since it is april, Jesper is on my mind and my heart a great deal right now. i'm reliving the last days and weeks of my pregnancy and his life. this is nothing new. i do it every year. tied in with my thoughts of him, however, are thoughts of the others involved in this little drama. Jinny, Sonja, Jeff, my parents, and so on. there aren't too many people in the world who knew Jesper. Jinny and Sonja are really the only ones other than Jeff and i who interacted with him on a regular basis. and now one of the few is gone, too. that hurts. in missing him, i miss her. in missing her, i miss him. he seems somehow diminished on this earth because there is one less person who remembers him with me.

one thing is constant, though. every year rolls by without fail. and every year brings me to a new place.

easier

i am having a hard time. the legislative session has started again. big changes happened this year. we lost our sponsor (Keith was promoted to the new governor's office chief of staff). we got a new sponsor (Sen John Ryan). some rules at the DOH have changed, so we have to change the way we talk about things. none of that is my problem, though.

i'm just tired of it. tired of the politics. tired of politicians playing games. tired of my heart being on what feels like the losing end.

a big part of me just wants to go to the capitol and tell them to play the game by their own rules. i know it wouldn't change them, but it would make me feel better. i'm an honest, open, face-value person. i don't play games well. i don't have a poker face. i don't dicker over the price of things.

i will see this through to the end, but i'm not going to lie and say it is not difficult. that it is not affecting me. giving me a poor opinion of people.

it is weighing on me heavily tonight. making me very depressed.

do i O-ffend??

apparently, i do.

october is not just about breast cancer awareness. it is also about pregnancy, infant, and child loss awareness. october 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day (though i think the name has actually been changed).

this year, i joined a movement called "I am the face." i love this movement because it really does put a face on miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss. mine. i am proud to be my son's mother. i am honored that he chose me. i cannot imagine my life without him in it. i cannot imagine my family without him in it. and, more importantly, i wouldn't want to. in honor of *i am the face,* on october 15th i made HIS face my profile picture on facebook. it wasn't the first time i have put his face forward in that venue. it won't be the last.

part of my goal after Jesper's death has been to make it okay for women to "grieve out loud." no one should have to walk this torturous path alone. no one should have to hide this kind of loss. it should not be shameful. it should not be a secret. the best likeness i have found is the one to cancer. it used to be that people whispered "cancer" for fear of it coming home to themselves. we all know that is a superstition. whispering it doesn't keep it at bay. the same thing is done with the loss of a pregnancy or child. it is spoken of in whispered, hushed voices for fear of it happening to yourself. but what is the actual effect of keeping it secret, whispering of our loss, for the sake of superstition? it makes it shameful. this one thing that we often have so little control of, that doctors are often so clueless about, this miracle that is life. a pregnancy doesn't always mean a baby growing up in your home; that is a fact of life.

it is a natural inclination, to keep a loss to yourself. it hurts, and sometimes it seems easier to not put that pain out in the wind for everyone to see and comment about. to suffer in silence. silence is encouraged by medical professionals. "brush it off. it happens all the time. try again. have another." they belittle the loss and the pain and the impact.

unfortunately, this problem, this issue, isn't going to go away anytime soon. death is a part of life. death after a long, happy life. death in the middle of a full life. and death before life has even really begun. they are all a part of the process.

"death comes for us all. even for kings he comes." (robert bolt)

but none of those things i *know* make it easier to cope with the death of my son. they have not made the last 7 years hurt less.

i have previously been thanked for making my grief so public. it has made it okay for someone else to grieve their loss. it has broken the silence for more than just myself.

this time around, i apparently offended a few people.

in the past, in a setting where i know there are pregnant ladies who don't know me, i have not gone out of my way to make a big deal out of my loss. i want people to be aware that it can happen; i don't want to freak people out. it is a delicate balance.

i say, "who don't know me" because i kind of figure if you've known me for a while, you know my history, it shouldn't freak you out. aware, yes. scared, no. i've always said, "there things you can do to prevent it. you should know the facts. don't be complacent."

recently, someone that i know "unfriended" me on facebook. i sent her a message asking what happened. she wrote back telling me that the problem was my profile picture, which *that day* (oct. 15) i happened to have changed to Jesper's picture. but she had unfriended me days or even weeks before that. she said she is having a hard pregnancy and she needs to keep negativity and pain away from her to make it through. she is someone that i don't really know that well. so be it. i let it go. i also let go the time lapse between being unfriended, posting Jesper's picture, and then using it as the reason.

it bothered me that she also mentioned the impact his picture and my loss was having on my pregnant friend[s]. either she was hiding behind the royal "we" or there was more than one person, and they had been comparing notes. there is only one person (that i know of) who is also currently pregnant that we have in common, so i sent a message to that other person asking if everything was ok between us.

she wrote me back a very long, well-worded, heart-felt message about the difficult pregnancy she is coping with and how she needs to keep to herself to keep other people's stress and problems away from herself. it is insulating; they are both doing it. it is a legitimate form of protecting yourself from the world around you.

i understand a scary, stressful pregnancy probably better than most. i get it. i know plenty of women who take the world's problems on themselves. they read "what to expect . . . " and think each of those things *is* going to happen to them. they can't let themselves get a doppler because every time they use it and don't find baby's heartbeat right away they would panic. there are definitely two kinds of people in this manner, and i am not that kind. i don't know how i would have survived nate and willow if i had been that kind of person. instead i have been gifted with the ability to compartmentalize other people's problems. "that isn't the issue that is affecting me." i do it with information. it is another form of insulating.

the difference is that i can hear another's issues and not take them on myself. they, apparently, cannot even hear the problems to begin with because they can't compartmentalize after the fact. so be it. i can't control them or their reactions. i can't determine how they are going to deal with information. and there in lies one of my problems with the whole situation.

**i can't control how they are going to react to things.** so does that mean i am supposed to change my actions or words for them? they are only two. they do not outnumber the ones who have given thanks for the ability to grieve out loud. while i don't want to go out of my way to hurt my friends, i'm not okay with the end result of their request. they are asking me to keep it a secret. to whisper it in their presence. they are telling me it is not okay to grieve out loud. not only am i the face, but mine is the voice. i will not, should not, cannot keep it a secret.

i consider Jesper's picture a part of it all. i am proud of my son. i am so proud that i don't think displaying his picture is wrong. he is my son; it is my picture. it happens to be one of the few pictures i have of him. i display his pictures the same way i display pictures of nate and willow. i am equally proud and honored to be nate and willow's mom. to me they are no different. they are all my babies. they are all beautiful and magical. they have all made me the mom and woman i am today. i would not change their existence for my life. i would and will defend them all equally.

what eats at me the most about the email from my friend is the judgement in it. she doesn't feel it is *appropriate* for me to use Jesper's picture because it disturbs people. it bothers her, but it also bothers her friends and family who see my comments on her posts or even her friends' posts. it effects people who have suffered a loss of their own and who are having a very hard time coping with it. i am not sorry for putting his face up on facebook. i do not think it is inappropriate for me to display his picture.

"my job is to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable."

i live by the idea that if you don't live in my house, you don't get a vote. i give it out as advice all the time to people who ask how to handle unsolicited advice on a number of topics. basically, you have to do what you feel is right for you, for your children, for your family, for your home. those not directly involved don't get a say in what happens in your home. well, these two don't get a vote. i have to do what i feel is best for my family and for the goals that have become ours since Jesper's death. they don't get to pass judgement on my life.

[if i regret anything at all, it is hurting those who have suffered too. but to them i would say, "let it out." find someone to talk to. don't keep it in. it festers. it infects. it only makes it more difficult to cope when you do it in secret, in silence.]

more than one person would say they are not asking me to keep it a secret, they are simply asking me not to talk about it around them. but that is basically a case of "not in my backyard." if i let one person shut me up, then i might as well let every person shut me up. it isn't like they don't know me. they've heard about Jesper at times other than when they were pregnant. i wasn't asked to keep silent then, only now because they are pregnant. so if talking about it and seeing his picture bothers them, does seeing me bother them? aren't *i* a reminder of him and what happened? does my mere presence in the room make them uncomfortable?

death is not a comfortable subject, especially the death of a child. but it is my reality. i don't ask them to not talk about their reality, so how is it okay for them to ask it of me? Jesper is not the only topic i ever talk about. as moms, we talk about anything from baby poo to the color of the sky. we have lively and rich and informative discussions. i don't throw my loss in people's faces, but i don't shy away from saying i have 3 children. i don't pull punches very often. i'm sorry if that offends or scares others.

and lastly, i think, one of the other things that bothers me about both of these emails has been the fact that they both referred to Jesper as "a stillborn." not my stillborn child/baby/son. just a stillborn. there isn't much in this life that will genuinely offend me. i let a whole lot of things slide right off. most things aren't worth the effort of getting upset about. this is one exception. let me make this clear: my son is not *a stillborn.* he is not the sum total of the result of his birth. he is my son. my child. my precious, first born baby. he is a person to me now, as he has been from the very beginning. i am his mother. i *wanted* him long before he was conceived. i was soul-shattered when he died in my body; i still am. i will never be a whole person again. there will forever be a piece of me missing, and i am glad for it. do not ever call my son a piece of meat. i know that is the term many medical professionals use and because of that many people think it is okay to use it, too. it is offensive and demeaning and belittling. and i guarantee if someone ever used a term like that to describe your child, you would have their head for it.

yes, i realize that they most likely did not intend to offend me. they used that term because someone else did and they thought it was okay. it is not okay, and knowing me they should know that.

[as a side note, there was once upon a time when i asked someone to be aware of what she was saying in "mixed company." she was accidentally pregnant when i was so desperately trying to get pregnant. every time i saw her she complained about her pregnancy and couldn't wait for it to be over. i didn't ask her to stop talking about her pregnancy, i simply asked her to stop and think about what she was saying. it hurt me. partly because i was having problems getting pregnant and partly because she was missing out on the opportunity of the child she was growing. *heaven forbid* anything should happen to that child and the only time she had with her was the time in her belly. what would she take back if she could? would she wish for that time again to cherish and love that baby for as long as she had? i hoped she would understand. that she would stop and see the time and the love she was giving away with her child. she did not. she turned it back around on me and told me that i wasn't being supportive.

i can definitely see the similarities in the two situations. i'm not sure i could tell you where the line is that makes it ok for me to ask one person to watch her words, but not to take the same advice when it is asked of me. i know the death of my child is not a trump card. it doesn't make me right in all cases. and maybe i am in the wrong on one of these. i don't know. maybe i can't see it because i am angry and hurt by the most recent issue. the judgement bothers me. the fact that they both used such a derogatory term for my son bothers me.]

in the end, the truth is i had not intended to leave his picture up for more than that day. it was up for all of 48 hours because we were going camping and i got busy. so it feels like a whole lot of judgement and hurt for such a little thing. i don't think it is a crime to have used his picture on that day. i'll probably use it again on his birthday. and a big part of me wants to say, "if it offends you, don't look at it." ultimately, i can't control how someone else is going to feel or how they are going to mentally use his image when they see it. that has to be on them.

Representation

what does it mean to 'represent' another person? to act or speak for another person; that's what the dictionary says. if you are a state legislator, would that or should that change your definition of represent? i don't think it should.

so if you took a need to your legislator–your representative–and asked them for help getting something changed, don't you think they should? if you went to your legislator with a bill already drafted and asked them to support it and advocate for it on your behalf, don't you think they should?

i know a certain legislator–Representative Jeanette Wallace–who has maybe lost the meaning of the word 'represent'. my representative couldn't care less about me.

i went to her in 2004 and asked her to help me fix how the state deals with stillbirth. i believe she told me to take it up with the county, as if they have any control over the procedures. so basically, she did nothing.

in 2007 and 2009, i went to her and asked her to support and advocate the bill that we have been trying to get passed. i wanted to ask her in person. she would not see me. before you say, "well, during the session she's very busy. not in los alamos very much." i was at the capitol. i was standing in her office. she still would not see me. i could not even get 5 minutes with my representative during a legislative session at the capitol. isn't she there *for* me? clearly not.

this is an election year. this year she has some competition. before the primary there was actually more than one candidate willing to run against her or in her place. competition is good.

part of me hopes that Stephanie Richard wins, but part of me does not. i don't believe a democrat is what is best for Los Alamos County. i don't believe a democrat is what is best for this bill that i have poured my soul into. i know it is more difficult for democrats to support it. i also know that Richard has two masters when it comes to education, and that worries me for a whole other reason.

some will say Wallace is the better choice because she has seniority and lots of influence and many friends. but if she never uses them for those she represents, then what good are they? Richard will be a freshman; she will have no friends, no influence with anyone. but maybe that will make her more eager and more willing and more representative.

i truly believe Wallace needs to be gone, but i don't know that Richard is the right person to replace her. (though i'd love to have an actual conversation with Ms. Richard.)

Thankfully #2

in my current mood, it might be hard to come up with many this time around.

i'm thankful for . . .

* SCHOOL! thank heavens it has started again. nate is mostly happier (though very tired already). i think he needs routine and structure at this age, and this summer we were just not in one. i think he needs the mental challenges, too. he's already had homework and a spelling list for the week. i'm excited. he is, too. he got the teacher he wanted to get, and who turns out to be a very cool teacher. they had tadpoles in a cup on their desks the very first day of school. though his teacher, who has been teaching 6th grade for quite a few years, needs a refresher course in the literal world of 1st graders.

mostly that's it this week. i'm sure there are a thousand little things, but i have unfortunately missed most of them. right now, i'm tired and frustrated (see the next post).

Thankfully

i think i'm going to start a running post about the little things in life that i am thankful for. i don't know how long it will last. i'd like to get to it at least once a week, but i can't say that it will get to it the same day every week. i'd like to do it on monday; we'll see. since it is already tuesday, i've already blown that first one! but it isn't about the day of the week or how many weeks in a row i can manage to do it or even how many things each week i can find to be thankful for. it is about sitting down and finding the things in my life that i should be and am thankful for. to consciously take notice of the small bits. there are plenty of moments in my day that make me want to pull my hair out in fistfuls. so this is a conscious decision to either take note of the little things while they are happening or at least to sit down once a week and remember them.

i am thankful for . . .

* nate's good teeth. he's getting better about brushing his teeth. he's getting better *at* brushing his teeth. most of the time they are still stained. but he has not one single cavity. he is starting to lose his deciduous or primary or baby teeth (your choice of terminology there). he is also getting his first set of permanent teeth (the ones not actually replacing others)--his 6-year molars are coming in. his baby teeth look tiny in his mouth. i remember when they looked so BIG in there.

* willow's independent spirit. she does so much on her own at this age. today i looked for her shoes so we could leave the house again. she had put them together with the day's socks tucked right inside.

* my super smart kids. willow is such a little sponge. i hate to admit it, but i think it is ridiculously cute when she mimics the things we say. "shubup cat." nate is getting ready to start first grade. i think he's a little bit freaked out but mostly just excited. today we talked about evolution!

* trashy romance novels. well, maybe they aren't quite so trashy. but they are quick and fun to read, and they take me to places i could not possibly get to any other way.

* friends who can drop everything to support another friend who is having a bad week.

* baby/kid clothes. they have protected my kids and kept them warm. in return i have taken good care of them. now they are either going to friends who will use them or being sold to someone else who will use them. it is liberating and sad at the same time. hooray for the space freed up again, but letting go of the tiny little items that my babies wore is hard. i tried with nate to get pictures of him in the things i thought were so cute, i have not been as good about that with willow. doesn't matter now, all of the things that my kids can no longer wear are leaving my space in october, if not sooner.

want to join me? what are you thankful for these days?

tender lessons

nate has always had a tender heart for those in need. sometimes a cat or dog--those ASPCA commercials have him in tears every time. sometimes a wild animal--he wants to give all of his money to the polar bears.

today while sitting in the parking lot at auto zone in santa fe we saw a homeless man sitting outside the store. we had just come from the über fabulous taco bell and happened to have some left over food. fresh and still warm and more than we needed. i stepped out of the car and asked if he was hungry. he said he was, so i offered him what was there at hand. he asked if i had any change for a cup of coffee. i gave him all the change i had on me at the time, which wasn't much. we talked about his last quarter which he used to buy a cigarette that day. i probably could have done more, but at least i didn't sit and do nothing.

nate watched with interest and then asked many questions. in the end, tears streaming down his face, he decided we should buy the man a car and build him a house out of logs. giving the man food and some change was simply not enough. so we talked about quite a few aspects of the situation.

first, that we can't afford to buy him a car or build him a house. ("but we can build it out of LOGS!" as if that wouldn't cost a single penny.)

second, that we have helped even if it was in a small way. a night's meal and a kind word help.

third, that sometimes people are homeless *by choice.* sometimes people cannot or do not wish to conform to the norms of our society.

fourth, that there are places and people who do more when the need is great. our favorite pet store *Pete's Pets* closed a while back. last winter we saw activity there again. nate was dying to go. certain he was that pete had opened his doors again. i suspected that pete had opened his doors to the homeless population. after a quick internet search, i confirmed my thoughts. i know there are several organizations that arrange and organize shelters in santa fe in the winter months. we aren't alone in our desire to help.

i wish we could help everyone who needs it and wants it. i wish we could buy them all cars and build them all houses. more, i wish this lesson were not so hard to learn. it hurts. it hurts him to not be able to do more and fix it all. it hurts me to not be able to do more. it hurts me to watch him learn that the world we live in is not always fair or kind or even-handed.

so i'm going to try to do more. the other night i finished knitting a hat. it took me only 3 days to make it. i thought, "how many can i make before it gets cold?" i'm going to find out. i'm going to enlist some friends who also knit. i'll probably donate them to a shelter, but i might keep a few to give to the people we encounter. i'm going to teach nate that we can help. one person, one meal, one hat at a time.

i hope nate keeps his tender heart. i hope it is not hardened too quickly by life or me or anyone else. more of us should have tender hearts for those who need help. i don't want to call it innocence and wish for him to outgrow it.

41 weeks + 7 years

it is hard to believe that after 7 years i still relive the last days of my baby boy with such vivid clarity. it doesn't hurt quite as much now, in some ways. but some things still hang around.

i wish more women would see the gifts of a pregnancy for what they are. those final days when they are *so ready* to be done with pregnancy and *just* have their baby--as if a pregnancy always means a healthy baby. those are the days i relive so clearly. not just the ones where i had a sneaking suspicion that everything was not ok, but the ones where he was anticipated with joy and excitement and such high hopes. i loved those days. i love them even more now. i recognize them as the gift they were. i did not wish them away then--he wasn't *allowed* to come before his due date because my parents couldn't get here before then. i would not wish them away now, even though now they are accompanied by the pain of loss and the longing of what will never be.

7 years has given me some healing, some extra coping abilities, some strength, and probably most importantly some perspective. thank you, my peanut, for all of those gifts and for choosing me. i love you, and i miss you every second, every minute, every day.

breathless

sitting there on the plane. late at night. jeff sleeping by the window. nate sleeping on the seat in between us. willow sleeping in my arms.

there he is again. my beautiful, quiet, missing boy. his face with little blond pigtails. sleeping so peacefully.

every time i see it, it leaves me breathless.

whoa, 6 months?

has it really been that long? i guess so. i have a ton of posts waiting to go up, waiting for pictures. i will endeavor to get them up in the next few weeks. and i will make a pointed effort to get up all the new stuff, too.

but for now, good night.