Of loss and hope...

I have been postponing this blog entry for months, but with the new exciting announcement that we are expecting I knew the day had come and I couldn't write about anything on this blog without mentioning something that was so sacred and that changed me in so many ways, but it hasn't been until now that I have found the courage to write about it.

Back in November of last year, Brian and I found out I was pregnant, we were really happy and excited about what this meant to our little family. We spent Thanksgiving with my in-laws and other than more appetite than usual I really had no other symptoms. This continued for the weeks to come, and I found myself thinking that perhaps this pregnancy was going to be morning-sickness free! I had been SO sick with Alex that this was a very welcomed surprise. Yet, I couldn't help but worry, because well I worry that's what I do, but also because I had a feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on, but I would dismiss it.

Then the week we were supposed to go to get our first ultrasound and hear the baby's heartbeat, that something that you never think it's going to happen to you happened. It was a Wednesday morning and as I woke up and headed to the bathroom I knew that something was really wrong. I called Brian with shaking hands and he tried to comfort me letting me know to not panic until we knew for sure. I called the Doctor's office who asked for an emergency ultrasound - never a good sign - at the hospital. There I went with little Alex who had no idea what was happening, and by this time I had begun to experience pain, so I was trying to keep myself together. I hate that stupid policy that the ultrasound technicians can't tell you anything about your ultrasound until the office calls you. They didn't have to, I'm no expert but it was clear that the little baby had no heartbeat. Still, I hoped that maybe I was wrong and headed home anxiously waiting for the call. As I was putting Alex down for his nap, the call came: I'm sorry Mrs. Chaney but this pregnancy is not viable, there is no heartbeat. Tears started rolling down my face, and I felt angry at that nurse with her use of fancy medical terms..viable pregnancy? Seriously?! You have just confirmed that I was in the process of losing my baby, so I was mad at her choice of words. I called Brian, who couldn't speak for what seemed like an eternity, and tried some comforting words when I knew his own heart was breaking. I put Alex down for a nap and called my older sister, she took upon herself to tell the rest of my siblings and parents as I just couldn't repeat myself all over.

As I found myself succumbing to despair I heard a knock on the door, it was my little brother who had left work to be with me. He brought me some "conchas" (delicious sweet bread usually found at Mexican stores) and his arms for me to weep. We tried some distraction and started watching a cartoon that we both loved when we were in Brasil, dear Monica, it brought many good memories and a realization that my Portuguese is getting rusty! And then I heard the garage door open, and there was Brian with a face that described how I felt on the inside. He simply said: I just had to be with you. So we sat on the couch while Alex napped, and cried and cried, all this time him trying to comfort me as the physical pain was now almost overwhelming. I came to found out that it was not until I stopped going to all of the doctor's appointment that I felt I could heal, for my body was a constant reminder that we had lost our baby.

Throughout the whole process I felt deep deep sadness, but also anger as the office handled it SO poorly. There was such miscommunication that when I arrived for an appointment the nurse hadn't even bothered to check the notes and was happily congratulating me on my pregnancy, when I was there because I had already lost the baby. This happened twice. Needless to say I won't be returning to that office.

Back when I was doing my Master's I remember that one of my cohort friends had done a presentation on miscarriage, and had described the whole thing as "ambiguous pain." At the time, that phrase stuck out and thought that it made sense. But it was not until I experienced it, that I realized that the whole ambiguous side of it was the hardest for me. I felt that I was mourning over someone I had never seen, or really know. I felt that I had almost nothing to remember him by - from the beginning I had a very STRONG feeling that it was a boy, still believe it! - and that I was gathering what little I had to make it real. It was ambiguous, and it was awful. I got myself a little memory box from Willow Tree that had a boy holding a heart that says "you will always have a place in my heart." I have placed inside what little I do have, and in time that has become enough.

Why do I share this now? First, because I feel I'm finally ready. Second, because I gathered strength from the experience of other women who had the courage to write down their own experience: I was not alone. And third, because well I got pregnant so incredibly fast after losing the other baby (it was not planned nor expected but a huge blessing nonetheless), that I feel I never had closure as morning sickness did come with this one - still going ugh! - that I had to focus on managing my symptoms and taking care of Alex, and now that I was ready to share the news and that I do have some good days, I knew closure was around the corner. Which brings me with a piece of advice, I had some well-intentioned friends/family who told me that I was young and I would still have other kids, please never say this to a woman who has miscarried, one baby CANNOT take the place of another.

Writing this has in no way lessened the happiness I feel about this new pregnancy, or put a damper on it. But it has reminded me that somewhere I have another boy who will one day be a part of this family, and I will get to love him and kiss him to my hearts desire. And it has made me so grateful for our Alex, and my amazing husband who have truly showed me that happiness is found even when we might be going through a dark time. Alex was my angel, constantly reminding me that I had so many reasons to smile and laugh out loud as he does the funniest things.

Do I still think about the other baby? Everyday. But in time it has changed from a feeling of deep loss, to that of hope. I know that I have an angel watching over me, one already playing with me, and another on its way.

A mother's worry

I thought I knew worry until I had Alex. I knew worry when I was in college studying for that dreaded final, I knew a whole different side of worry the first time Brian had to work until 2am in the morning, and then a complete different animal once Alex was born. It wasn't just an anxiety kind of worry but almost excruciatingly physical - totally felt nauseous when he got that HORRIBLE cold when he was barely 7 weeks old. As I told my mom once during a phone conversation "it seems that being a mom entails being in a state of perpetual worry!"

 
Yesterday was not a very good day. It all started at 9am with Alex's appointment with the allergist, and something a mother never wants to hear came out of that doctor's mouth: he has a peanut allergy, here's your prescription for the EpiPen and here's how you use it - while demonstrating jamming it on his thigh - and you need to do it without hesitation....Ok he was probably better at it than what I'm describing but that's how I heard it....and not gonna lie trying to look extremely composed, and keep a rational head to ask all of my questions...when really all I wanted to do is cry, out of worry. It all got worse when he woke up from his nap with a very swollen red eye, a reaction to his test to determine if he was allergic, so there I go getting him some Benadryl hoping it's just a reaction and not pink eye - he woke up fine today thank goodness. So, yes I worry, I'm a worrier and being a mom certainly didn't help haha.

So here's the thing...I don't like being worried, it sucks, I don't enjoy that feeling in my gut...but for whatever reason the worry I experience towards my little boy can be a very tender experience. It's a constant reminder that I worry about someone infinitely more than I worry about myself, that I would do anything to help him - even though I can't do that all the time - it is a reminder of my mother love for him. So yes, I don't enjoy getting worried but I do enjoy the way my heart melts in tenderness for him.

Running in the backyard

I love Fall, it is BY FAR my favorite season of the whole year....I like the weather, the colors, the smell, the feel, and the fact that I can start wearing nice sweaters! Alex has been enjoying Fall A LOT, this kid loves running through the leaves on the grass dragging his poor doggy behind him - that poor dog needs a bath! So despite the fact that he got his worst cold ever, that lasted a total of three weeks (thank you nursery haha) and that he's cutting through his last set of molars...this little one has been happy and full of life. About a week ago I took him to our backyard because we have plenty of leaves, and to take that opportunity to take some pictures of him....he had a blast and I enjoyed taking snaps here and there, and truly fascinated by this kid's smile through my lens.

 I don't know how this doggy did it, but he gets more hugs and kisses from him than mom and dad combined! - slightly jealous here! Nevertheless, I still find it adorable that he carries him around everywhere, will not leave his side and even kisses him good night. I've said this before, but it's truly humbling to see how much respect and wonder this kid shows towards nature, he will take his time to touch every bush, and then smile once he's done experimenting and investigating the texture.

Many times he was like: look mom a piece of grass!! So I collected little pieces of grass through our little adventure, as he would often just give them to me. More than anything, this kid loves to run from side to side feeling the grass and the sound of crunching leaves underneath his feet, it's adorable!

 As much as I love Fall, I don't think I have ever perceived it the same way as I have this year - I must confess it had been a while since I had taken the time to run through the brown/orange leaves, or pick them up and throw them up in the air just for the sake of it...not this year...I have done all of those things multiple times all to see the face of pure enjoyment! I must admit, I'm loving it!

I feel a sense of humility as I realize how much this kid is loved, not just by mom and dad, but by many more who have fallen prey to his charming ways haha....Enough evidence is the fact that the doggy was given by his auntie Kristi and the jacket/hat were given by his uncle Dany, both whom adore this child. I'm grateful that he can feel this love, and then give it back....he is a very loving child, he will make sure you know he loves you just as much as you love him.

And there I am! I took this pic on purpose realizing my shadow would be in it...loved every second of trying to catch the joy my little boy experiences on the simplest of things: running in the backyard.

My Bedheadmom experience

Soooo last week awesome Wendy - with her husband's help from my understanding - posted the pictures she took of me over a month ago. She let me know the day before, and I was excited followed by a mild case of panic attack haha...joking aside I did feel a little anxious. I hadn't seen the pictures so I didn't know what to expect, and that was a bit frightening to me. But let me start at the beginning.

I found out about her 40 faces project through another awesome friend, and thinking about the intent behind the project I didn't think about it twice I knew I wanted to be a part of it. So Wendy responded to my interest super fast and quickly set up an appointment to take my pictures. It was going to be a Monday.

That day I woke up pretty normal, and started getting ready for the day...my infamous shopping day! I was about to put make-up on and then remembered that she only had one requirement: no makeup. I stared myself in the mirror, and realized that even though I really don't wear that much makeup the little that I do has always given me a confidence boost. This is going to be interesting I thought....

It was beyond interesting...it was healing.

She got to my house with her son, and we started talking. I can only describe her as a warm fussy blanket haha...it was the absolute easiest to talk to her, even though I had never seen her on my life. I immediately had a feeling that she not only cared but looked at me the way few people see other people...I remember that she told me with this warm smile, "you're so cute look at that dimple!" I said thanks, with a bit of a blush and curiosity on how fast she had noticed my ONE dimple.

With few exceptions she never asked me to pose, she was taking pictures as we were talking and as I was keeping an eye on Alex making sure he didn't run to the street haha....And that, was the most vulnerable part of it all. See I'm used to posing for pictures, I give a certain smile, and when I see the pictures I will of course only publish the best ones. This was so out of my control, that it was freeing. Most of the time I didn't know when she was taking the pictures, so I couldn't pose, she was photographing  plenty of candid smiles and mid-sentence expressions which was totally out of my comfort zone; and that for me equates healing...Pushing yourself to do something hard, to do something you wouldn't normally do, and this was it.

One of my favorite pictures is prob this one:

 

I remember exactly the time she took this picture, she asked me to think about myself as a teenager and that was my reaction hahaha....It seriously cracks me up. My teenage self is a topic of discussion, but one for another day. 

I appreciate the opportunity I had to be a part of this project, and keep learning about myself and true beauty. I learned to see myself differently, be ok with letting go and not being concerned when someone might be pushing the button to take a picture.If I could, I would do it all over again.

So, if you haven't checked the project here are two links. First for my session, and seeing candid pics at the fullest, and second a link for the whole series. Look at it and ponder, I promise you won't regret it!

http://www.bedheadmom.com/face-25/

http://www.bedheadmom.com/category/40-faces/

Thanks Wendy for the opportunity!

No I'm not American, but I remember

So obviously this topic has been on people's minds, and we hear a lot about what people were doing, what they felt, and how it has affected them. Let me be clear, no I'm not American, I'm proudly Mexican but that's probably the reason why I wanted to write it because you don't often get the perspective of those who weren't even in the country, but just because I wasn't there doesn't mean it didn't mean something, it doesn't mean that I don't remember.

So yes, I do remember, I was fourteen and I was sitting in the classroom trying to pay attention. A friend has somehow sneaked a little radio and was listening to some kind of game with his headphones when the game stopped to announce what was happening in NYC. He stopped the teacher and communicated the news to us. Up until that point I had never been to NYC or seen the Twin Towers in person, but I knew what they were and what this meant. I remember that class was stopped, as we tried to make sense of what was happening. For the rest of the day most classes revolved around the tragedy, even though teachers tried to carry out a lesson, it seems that no one could talk about anything else. I remember going home to find my mom watching the news, horrified. Back home we're used to a certain amount of violence, the news are covered with kidnapping, assault, murder etc. But never have we ever been a target in this magnitude, so it was confusing, I remember feeling confused. I couldn't figure out why anyone would do this, you see back home you're never really taught that some countries literally hate the US, so I knew this wasn't just any act of violence this was something else, but in my fourteen year old mind I didn't know what it was.

The next day everyone was still talking about it. I remember some of friends trying to diffuse the horror with some humor, as back home the most popular video that the news played was one of a man looking back startled at the noise of the first plane hitting the North tower, they were commenting that his face was humorous. I didn't find it funny but I also didn't know what to feel, and now that I'm older and understand human behavior better, I can only imagine that they were trying to not think of all the death and suffering and instead focus on this one man's face, that way trying to make it easier to swallow. I don't remember thinking much about this as the weeks went by, people seem to get over it and move on. I was around fourteen in the picture below.

I started thinking about it again on my Senior year of high-school when my sister told me we were going to NYC during the Summer as graduation present. I was very happy as I had never been to NYC, and wanted to know the "magic" that a lot of people talk about. It did not disappoint - despite the heavy rain we got - and I found myself enjoying the different aspects of such a busy city. One of the days I asked to go to Ground Zero. Once we got there, I remember my sister and I fell silent. There was nothing there but one big hole and a cross made of wood. I looked around and noticed that most people weren't even talking, it was as if this place was a place of silence, of respect, of meditation, almost sacred. I don't know how to explain it, but I started feeling like someone had punched me in the stomach...and suddenly I felt an urgent need to cry. We just stood there in silence, and I felt sincere sadness for all of the people that were affected even though I never met any of them and we don't even share the same country of origin. That feeling persisted, specially the next day when our ferry was delayed for a couple of hours because there has been the suspicion of an attack. I remember feeling scared, and thinking that life was probably scary everyday for these people, home was no longer safe; once more I felt that feeling in my gut.

Going to NYC was such a good experience, I loved so many things about it! But at the same time I will never forget what I felt, and the fact that not even walking in the streets in Mexico City had I ever felt so unsafe. So no I'm not American, but I remember where I was, I remember how I felt and how it impacted me, and no I will also not forget.

Lovely Cancun

There is no other way to describe it, Cancun is simply lovely! (Humidity aside hehe). So anyway, our flight there was actually not bad aside from the fact that we had to wake up around 4:30am and wake up Alex around 5am to get there, but he was such a trooper and cooperated the whole time! The flight from Denver to Cancun was rather empty so he got his own seat, such a big boy!

We finally got to Cancun and whereas the rest of my family had been to that Resort in the past I had never been there, but it was truly quite beautiful! They had a pool with direct view of the ocean and when you're standing at the right spot they sort of blend together!

Most days were filled with plenty of good food - like seriously their breakfast buffet had EVERYTHING totally overate - relaxing at the pool, taking naps, and relaxing in the ocean before a good meal before bedtime.

We really had a good time enjoying each others company, and just enjoying the beautiful ocean with its white sand. Alex loved the ocean - I mean how couldn't he? - but absolutely HATED the sand, we tried to get him to sit and explore it, but he was just hysterical haha...it was sort of comical to be honest. It was great spending time with my family, and reminding myself of my growing up years and visiting this place so often.

One afternoon we went to an outdoor mall that has a beautiful view of the lagoon, we enjoyed a good walk and left before the mosquitoes started eating us!

My favorite evening was probably the one we went to the restaurant named Crystal, the food was delicious and everyone dressed up for the event. Alex ate like crazy and was in a super good mood, which is always a plus!

On the very last day we decided to take some professional family pictures by the ocean, it was super hot and kinda windy but I think they turned out great!

My favorite one is probably the third one down, look at that face of pure joy as were throwing him forward. Having all of us live so far away from one another makes it hard to have these kinds of pictures, so I was deeply grateful for the opportunity we had to be together and take them. Only my older brother and his family were missing :( We missed them, but am looking forward to next time and hopefully they'll be able to join us :)

Despite lovely Cancun there is simply no place like home, we came back Alex and I with a tan, and Brian super happy he didn't burn - thank you Neutrogena Beach defense! - and ready for life to go on, full and unexpected.