When I think about where I was when I started this blog, I'm amazed at how far I've come. I was a second year grad student, in an unhealthy marriage, and completely miserable. Since then, I've gotten divorced, met the love of my life, married him, given birth to my first child, and lost her. I can honestly say that the only thing I would change is losing Schuyler. I know that everything in my life has led me to where I am now. In spite of the heartache, I am a happier person than I was just a few years ago. I am more comfortable in my own skin. I have learned to embrace who I am and to like the person I have become. I know I have a long way to go, but I believe that's what this journey is for. I think we are here to learn as much as we can and to fulfill our potential as human beings. What comes after I am still not sure about, but I don't believe we only get one shot at this.
In light of the changes I've been through, I felt it was time the blog got an overhaul too. I've been thinking about this for a while. I think I even posted about it a long time ago. The time seems right. My goals and priorities have changed so much. I have come a long way from the self-conscious, miserable, scared girl who wanted to be an opera singer. I've realized that while I may have the voice for it, I don't have the disposition or even the desire for that kind of life. I struggle with some guilt regarding this choice, but hopefully the people who went out of their way to teach me and train me will understand. I hope I'm not letting them down. I have no doubt that I will always sing and always support the arts. It's just not my calling to be a professional singer. (Well, except that I am, because I am paid to sing. I guess it's not my calling to be a full time professional singer.)
So, the "yarn" part of my blog name is still true in that I still knit and I still have stories to tell, but I feel like this place needs to be more than that. I think my blog is becoming more of a journal, a place to record life as I know it. As part of the overhaul, I think it's time for a new title. I just don't know what that title should be. Meeting Mike changed my life. Marrying him changed it too. Life changed again a year ago when we found out I was pregnant. It changed again less than four months ago. It's going to continue to change as Mike and I continue to heal and try to add to our family again. I have no doubt that I will change too. It's so hard to define myself right now. I'm a mother, but not a parent. I'm a musician, but not a performer. I'm a lot of things and I can't narrow it down.
For now, my banner will remain blank. I hope to be able to fill in that blank sooner rather than later.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Remembrance
Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. For parents of angels, every day is a day of remembrance. It is difficult to understand how the rest of the world can keep moving when our world has come crashing down around us. Please take a moment today to reach out to those you might know who have suffered the loss of a child. Sometimes a simple "how are you doing?" is enough to let them know that you have not forgotten too.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Two months....
Two months ago today, Schuyler was born. It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life and it turned into a nightmare that I still struggle to comprehend. There were no indications that anything was wrong. The only reason I even had a c-section was because she was such a big girl that I needed some help. Neither Mike and I nor the doctors, nurses, and midwives could fathom what had happened or why. We still don’t know what happened. Even if we find that out from the autopsy reports, we will never understand why we had to lose our baby girl.
On the morning of July 17, when I woke up having contractions, I knew my life would change forever that day. Little did I know that it was not going to change in the way that I was expecting or hoping for. Mike and I spent nine months dreaming about our new life with our daughter. Our dreams were taken away from us after only 40 minutes full of worry, straining to hear her first cries. They never came. She never took a breath on her own and we never got to see our baby girl alive.
Instead of two months full of midnight feedings and diaper changes, our nights have been full of nightmares and our days full of tears. The only things that have kept me from going insane are the support of my amazing husband, wonderful family, and incredible friends. Knitting has also gotten me by.
I have had very little desire to knit for myself. I find myself wanting to knit for others. I am knitting nine scarves for the nine nurses who cared for me during my stay in the hospital. They were all so wonderful. They were compassionate and caring. Not only did they care for me, but they asked after Mike and took beautiful care of Schuyler, who stayed at the hospital until I was discharged. They brought her in for us to hold whenever we wanted and never complained even if we only wanted to hold her for a minute. They sat with me and held my hand while I cried. They cried with me. A scarf is not enough to show them my gratitude, but it’s all I can do right now.
The Schuyler Blanket Project has become a spark. I’m inspired to see if I can nurture that spark and help it grow into a flame. No one should have to lose a child, yet it happens all the time. In just the two months since losing Schuyler, I have already met so many others who have lost sons and daughters of all ages. I hate it for them. I hate that they will have an empty place in their hearts for the rest of their lives. No matter how many more children Mike and I have, our family will never be whole now. I hope that this project can grow and spread just a fraction of the love Mike and I have received to some of these families. I know that it won’t bring their children back, but perhaps it can help them feel less alone on the bad days.
Thank you all from the very bottom of my heart for helping me do this. I can’t even being to express my gratitude. Thank you all so much for helping keep my baby girl alive.
On the morning of July 17, when I woke up having contractions, I knew my life would change forever that day. Little did I know that it was not going to change in the way that I was expecting or hoping for. Mike and I spent nine months dreaming about our new life with our daughter. Our dreams were taken away from us after only 40 minutes full of worry, straining to hear her first cries. They never came. She never took a breath on her own and we never got to see our baby girl alive.
Instead of two months full of midnight feedings and diaper changes, our nights have been full of nightmares and our days full of tears. The only things that have kept me from going insane are the support of my amazing husband, wonderful family, and incredible friends. Knitting has also gotten me by.
I have had very little desire to knit for myself. I find myself wanting to knit for others. I am knitting nine scarves for the nine nurses who cared for me during my stay in the hospital. They were all so wonderful. They were compassionate and caring. Not only did they care for me, but they asked after Mike and took beautiful care of Schuyler, who stayed at the hospital until I was discharged. They brought her in for us to hold whenever we wanted and never complained even if we only wanted to hold her for a minute. They sat with me and held my hand while I cried. They cried with me. A scarf is not enough to show them my gratitude, but it’s all I can do right now.
The Schuyler Blanket Project has become a spark. I’m inspired to see if I can nurture that spark and help it grow into a flame. No one should have to lose a child, yet it happens all the time. In just the two months since losing Schuyler, I have already met so many others who have lost sons and daughters of all ages. I hate it for them. I hate that they will have an empty place in their hearts for the rest of their lives. No matter how many more children Mike and I have, our family will never be whole now. I hope that this project can grow and spread just a fraction of the love Mike and I have received to some of these families. I know that it won’t bring their children back, but perhaps it can help them feel less alone on the bad days.
Thank you all from the very bottom of my heart for helping me do this. I can’t even being to express my gratitude. Thank you all so much for helping keep my baby girl alive.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
