This is…well. This is a blog that I started, as anyone still reading will know, before Oliver was born and died. And after Oliver died it became the place I came to to work through some of that.

It’s not that I’ve finished working through that – heaven knows – but I think I’m done working it out in this space. This space feels too sad to me; it’s disconnected from where I am now. Where I am now is good; where I am now is really pretty happy….and I tried to figure out a way to move this blog with me and I just…couldn’t do it.

So I think that for the moment I’m going to make the radio silence official and stop writing here (or beating myself up about not writing here). I may come back sometimes and put little things up but it won’t be the regular outlet that it used to be. I guess in fairness it hasn’t really been that since the one year anniversary.

In case anyone is even sort of still reading this, I want to invite you to check out the new digs if you are interested – I’ve started a blog called Pintuck, at http://pintucks.wordpress.com. It’s mostly a space I’m using to document some of my sewing adventures (I think I do better at writing when I have a focus like that), but it does venture into life stuff too, a little. And there are certainly lots of pictures of Ani and Sam.

I hope you will come and visit if you are interested. One thing I will mention is that this blog was private – no one in my “real life” circle knew about it. My sewing blog is all bets off – my mom and dad read it; my husband reads it; my friends read it. It’s not that I am desperate to keep this stuff quiet – it’s just that some of this stuff is sad and I’m not sure I want to have a lot of conversations about it with people. So if you DO come visit Pintuck (Come! Visit!) maybe avoid mentioning this space in the comments? Thanks.

And also, a very big and devoted thank you to everyone who read, who commented, who walked with me during this particular window of time. It was…not the best. But you all made me feel like I wasn’t alone. Thank you.

Welcome to the world Sam.

We had our ultrasounds yesterday for this pregnancy. A regular 19 week ultrasound (general look at all the parts and measure stuff) and a fetal echocardiogram (to rule out the heart defect that Oliver had – not a contributing factor in his death, I feel compelled to mention, though I’m not sure why exactly it matters). Then a regular appointment. Wheeee!

The upshot is it’s all very very very good news. There is no placenta previa this time (YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY! Because that wasn’t fun last time. And it caused so very many problems). There are no heart issues at all. In the words of the cardiologist (a spectacular woman who helped us with Oliver and was there when he died – her face stays with me because I remember she looked as sad as I felt) “Maybe I’ll see you guys in the grocery store or something but I definitely don’t need to see you anywhere else!” She also remembered that we’re at the year anniversary, which I was quite touched by. (I know; it’s probably right there in my file but still).

He’s measuring exactly on target for dates. And yes I did say HE – Ani’s getting another little brother. We are beyond thrilled.

Last time I felt so busy and stressed out – I was still working and I was running around all the time – it wasn’t fun, and I did nothing to get ready for Oliver particularly (in fairness I was pretty much hospitalized from 24 weeks on, but still). So yesterday afternoon Anika and I went out and bought our new little guy two rompers. I intend to celebrate the living daylights out of this little guy – no holding back; no waiting until later. After last year I think I learned that you never know exactly what you are going to get so you’d better go ahead and pour every ounce of joy and excitement into every second you’ve got. I know it’s not how everyone handles it – and lets face it; I got off easy in some respects. I have a little girl at home. In not getting ready for Oliver, I didn’t have to come home to a nursery I had to take apart. It was sort of a blessing I guess.

But I have always hated that Oliver didn’t have a big “mark” in our house. He never got to come home; he never even got to meet Anika. I didn’t have a lot of things I had to put away. With this boy I want things to be different. I want to sew things for him; I want to be READY for him.

I am feeling especially lucky because Dana over at MADE is having “Celebrate the Boy” month, with all kinds of sewing projects and boy related stuff. Dana is one of my favourite sewing bloggers ever – she has great ideas; great projects. I’ve made a few things from her site – a couple of shirt dresses for my daughter; I used her freezer paper stencil idea to make beach pants for Ani too (I traced her sand toys up one leg, hee); I made the market skirt (which is SO MUCH FUN to make and so cute – hey, I should probably post pictures sometime, yes?). Anyway, if you’re into sewing or just want to be into sewing then I definitely suggest checking her site out. In fact, I demand it – go look and play. Amen. I’m totally ready to start figuring out some boy projects for the new little guy.

So now we just need a name for him. We had some girls names short listed but boys names are proving harder. It’s driving me nuts, but really, after everything we’ve been through….what an amazingly wonderful *ordinary* problem to have.

Monday would have been Oliver’s first birthday. Monday was one year since we had him. One year ago from right now he was alive. How is that even possible? It feels like such a dream sometimes, except when I remember holding him, or what it felt like to kiss his head, or how intensely he looked at me with his huge dark eyes. I miss him so much but at the same time it feels so good and so right to set him free. To let be what was; to let him go willingly to God instead of feeling like I’m fighting all the time, clawing at the parts of him I’m so desperate to hang onto. To not forget.

I think though, what I’ve realized is that I’m not forgetting. Letting him go isn’t forgetting. Letting him go is simply allowing what *is* to happen anyway…..and in doing so, to take joy in who he was and in what he meant to us and what he *will* mean to us and to our family.

Monday we made a birthday cake. My mom and dad were here, and we invited our friends (A, A, and two kids) to come over. The female A, one of my very best friends (and my rock this past year), couldn’t make it but her husband came anyway and brought the kids. Brandon was cutting the cake for everyone and he looked at me and said “Should we say anything?” I was like “Oh HECK no” because lets face it – what a great way to make me lose it completely. My friend’s husband looked up and smiled and said simply “It’s a good day for cake.”

It was perfect.

Everyone had a good time; there were no silly games (apologies to those who enjoy silly games at baby showers – I do not. I feel that doing things like guessing how long a piece of string needs to be to fit around the pregnant person cannot POSSIBLY win you any friends. But that is my hang up.). There was some silly discussion (“My baby won’t even EAT white bread!”) and things that had me rolling my eyes, but overall it was fine. We even did talk about Oliver a bit at the end, and that was okay too – the truth is I *like* talking about him; I *like* bringing him up. I don’t always do it with the most grace, but you know – I think I’m even getting better at that as time goes on.

You know what? I think we should leave the baby shower conversation in the dust now . I feel like I’ve done a totally crappy job of explaining why it was hard or why I was having trouble with it, and….anyway. It doesn’t really matter. It’s over; it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t get the thing I guess I was secretly hoping for (something along the lines of “Gee christy, I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about that but it didn’t seem right to do in email or on the phone so I waited until I saw you in person” from my friend) but in my more magnanimous moments I can fully appreciate that baby death is bloody hard for a lot of people – as it should be – and maybe some people simply can’t figure out what to do or say.

In other news, this pregnancy is still ticking along and I remain so impossibly hopeful that things are going to go well this time. We have the Big Scans next week – anatomy scan in which they will make darn sure to really examine the placenta, and then a cardiac exam in which I am HOPING to find out there is no problem. The heart defect Oliver had carries something like a less than 1% chance of recurrence, but you know – once you’ve beaten the odds the wrong way you kind of hate to count on them too much. Oh, and we should find out if the pea is a boy or a girl. I can’t decide for sure what I think – this pregnancy is much more like my pregnancy with my daughter in terms of symptoms and things, but I don’t know.

Anyway, the scans are Feb 16. (And yes, for those following along at home, that is the day after what should have been Oliver’s first birthday. Wicked!) I definitely appreciate any and all prayers, good wishes, positive vibes, and anything else any of you want to throw out there in the universe for us. To be clear, what we’re shooting for here is:

* NO placenta previa. No no and a thousand times no.

* NO placenta accreta (apparently a fun thing you get to also worry about after a previous previa and c section).

* NO heart defects.

* NO abnormalities, issues, chromosomal problems, anything else (to be clear, Oliver didn’t have any of these – I just figure if we’re wishing for stuff lets go big, yes?).

What we are going for is a completely normal healthy placenta with a healthy full term (eventually) baby attached to it. Amen.

So hey, a couple of you asked me the GTA question last time. The answer is, sort of! I am in Ontario, yes. I live in a city that rhymes with Shmottawa now (HAH! I’m so secretive. Please don’t stalk me or hunt down my daughter okay? Do feel free to drop by for coffee if you like.), but my parents are still east of Toronto, and that’s where the baby shower was.

I shall report back after the scans on the 16th……..eeeep.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t struggling with this. We all have these stories – of friends or family who let us down in spectacular ways after losing our kids. I should be thankful, I suppose, that the person who let me down in this case wasn’t someone I counted on as part of my regular support network.

Anyway. My mom offered to host the shower because of the friendship with her mom, and I totally get that – and support it. It’s why I’m here really. But it doesn’t change the fact that I am dreading Saturday, at least a little bit. I hope it will be better than I thought it would be.

So; I am here making cookies and asparagus rolls and trying to amuse my three year old. It’s not all bad by any stretch – it’s nice to spend some time with my family and we took Ani to the science museum today which was a lot of fun. I just feel like there’s this shadow growing over Saturday and I’m trying so hard not to be swallowed by it. I keep getting hit with random stuff like “(friend) has only gained 18lbs!” or “Friend refuses to eat any processed food while she’s pregnant.” GREAT. Good for her. Or something.

I need suggestions people – I can’t drink, (what with the pregnant thing – which continues to go pretty well I think, by the way) and I need to figure out a way to get through this. I’m open to anything – ideas? Conversationally bringing up my dead son with all of the shower guests? (Nah, no reason to dishonor him or be rude really – that’s not fair). Surreptitiously grind up some really processed lunch meat and add it to the crab dip?

Agh. I don’t want to be rude really; I am being snarky here but it’s not what I want to do in real life. I just want to get through it without feeling let down again. But I’m not sure what I want from her either. An acknowledgment I guess. For her to say “Hey, I’m sorry this happened to you – it sucks.” Something anyway….not nothing.

Anyone live in the GTA and feel like crashing a baby shower?? There will be crab dip and snark!

Wheeeee.

So, I know I disappeared for a while – kind of a long while actually. I didn’t mean to. It was one of those things where I was wrestling with some things and it caught me off guard. And then some stuff happened and then some more stuff happened and then….then I was wrestling with DIFFERENT things but I didn’t know how to put those things all together and then it became one of those things where there was simply too much and too much old back story to pick up the thread again and write here.

But the thing is, I missed it here and I didn’t want to just walk off into the sunset and let this fall to nothing. So I am back. I think. And I will fill in some of the back story so that when I start my next verbal wrestling match it makes some amount of sense. (Note: I did say *some*. At least there will be context – that’s a good thing, right?).

After we got back from the beaches in October I hit a bit of a low. Not a long one, and not something that flattened me – I wasn’t even particularly depressed about Oliver or anything – just kind of sad in general. It was triggered I think by the H1N1 outbreak, and hearing about a young girl who died in the hospital where Oliver died. And I know – it’s a children’s hospital; one of the best in the province. And the nature of that is that there are kids who will die there. I know there were probably way too many before Oliver died and have been way too many since. But all I could think about when I heard about the eleven year old dying was “Oh God, I know.” I mean, I obviously have no CLUE what the pain is of losing an older child. I can’t begin to fathom what it’s like to lose not only the potential of a future, but the memories – the loss of a person who you will miss whose life is cut way too short. But I do know that the hard part for her parents wasn’t watching her slip away no matter how hard that was. It was standing up – whenever that happened – and walking out of the hospital. That is the part that haunts me; the part I can’t erase. The part where I had to put him down and physically force myself to leave. To walk away, knowing I wouldn’t be back and there was no reason for me to go back. I felt for those parents so acutely.

That put me in a bit of a funk for a bit – and lit a fire under me to get myself and my people vaccinated (done and done). I also put my (now blessedly defunct) professional writing career to good use and wrote a trifold for my doctor’s office explaining the deal with H1N1 and what to do; where to go for information; etc. And then some other dr’s offices in other parts of the province got wind of it and requested copies tailored for their regions, so I did that too. It was fun in the end.

So then the stuff happened. The stuff is simply that I am pregnant again. I am a little nervous but mostly just freakishly happy. It just feels so completely like its own thing – it’s connected to Oliver, a little, but it’s not at the same time – it’s not a repeat of my pregnancy with him any more than my pregnancy with him was a repeat of my pregnancy with Anika. So I’m moving forward in faith and hoping for the best. I’m fifteen and a half weeks now and have had two ultrasounds so far – so far things look good. They won’t rule out a previa this early (Lord, please no), but it’s looking good so far. I have a detailed anatomy scan on the 16th of Feb and a cardiac ultrasound as well, and if both of those things are normal then I “graduate” from being high risk to being a regular old pregnancy. I am obviously praying pretty hard for that outcome – but I’m trying to really stay in the moment and be joyful about where I am at any given moment. So for today, I’m fifteen and a half weeks. Yesterday, on my birthday, I felt the baby move for the first time and I am feeling pretty good.

So I guess that brings me to the bigger and current dilemma and that is what to do with this space. I want this blog to be about my life – the big catastrophic event but also the regular life stuff. Because of when I started it and what happened so soon after this blog became (necessarily) about Oliver; about losing him; about picking up the pieces; and about missing him. And now….now. Now it still needs to be that, sometimes. But not all the time. Because in so many ways, I feel like I’m letting him go – not in a bad way; not forgetting him; but releasing him and releasing him with joy. I LOVED him. He was my son and of course I’d give anything to have him here but he’s not here. He’s free; he’s somewhere else and I’m happy for him. I’m happy he was part of my life, even if it was brief. I’m happy that for the rest of my life he is my son. I believe, fervently, that I will be with him again one day in Heaven. I sincerely believe that. And I don’t know if that’s why I’m feeling more at peace with things or if there’s some other reason….I worry about it, actually. It seems like there are so many people who take a much longer time to let go, and I worry that I’m somehow rushing a process that can’t be rushed or trying to “sweep something under the carpet” somehow. I don’t think I am really; I think that what I would tell someone else writing this is “everyone has their road to travel; whatever that road is. Your road is your own and it will take what it takes.” But when it’s yourself you are second guessing it’s so much harder. So I guess what I’m wrestling with is whether I can let this blog be simply about us and our lives. Whether it needs to be simply a space that is and was about Oliver, and if I want to write about other things I need to go do something somewhere else. I don’t want to – it feels like editing somehow and I don’t want to edit. I just want to be.

I think I’m going to keep writing here for a while and just see how it goes.

And in other exciting news, stay tuned for an update on the baby shower drama. (For those who remember my plight a few months ago, the shower is now coming up in a few weeks….and now I can’t even drink at it. I’m happy I can’t drink but if EVER there was a time where I’d need one….oy.)

This is Ani and I, trying on our dresses a few days before the wedding.

There was a super sweet hairdresser the day of the wedding that did Ani’s hair for me. And then didn’t charge me a dime. AND THEN finished the whole thing off by whipping out a can of glitter hairspray and dousing her in that. She was a PROUD GIRL.

And this would be my little flower girl checking herself out in a mirror. I am so biased but she is freakin adorable. I love her so much.

And this is my girl with the bride.

So those are a few of the wedding pictures – or perhaps more accurately, a few of the flower girl pictures. (Again, Christy = biased.)

Then we headed off for our vacation with my parents, brother and sister, and my aunt (and her two dogs) for a week at the beach. This is not something we’ve ever done before and it was so much fun. Also, if anyone needs to know how to keep a toddler amused in a car for 15 hours? I am your girl. And I didn’t even use the dvd player. (It’s one of those things you know? I can’t bear to use it because if I do? THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT PEOPLE. If that gets boring then I’m out of options. So I always *have* it, but I am always to afraid to use it. I need it in my back pocket. Yes, I am ridiculous.)

On with the pictures!

Anika was terrified of the waves. So very scared. She didn’t want anything to do with them on the first day. She loved the sand, but waves? Uh, no. On the last day though she FINALLY decided it was fun to go into the water with her dad – she’d let him carry her for a bit and be splashed and then he’d put her down and she’d race back to the dry sand. Of course next time we’re anywhere near an ocean we’ll probably have to repeat the “why the ocean is fun!” process, but oh well. She had one fun day in the water!

Okay, so she was scared of the waves but she REALLY liked the sand. And also, dancing. This picture makes me howl.

Brandon took these pictures of us on the deck one night. I thought the first one was funny and the second one I just really love. It’s one of the few pictures I look at and don’t just see everything that I don’t like about myself – I really love that it captures Ani and I that way.

And finally, just as we were about to drive north into freezing temperatures, we took one last family portrait on the beach. We all look weird since Brandon had to hold the camera and Ani insisted on chewing her dress, but there it is!

Oh and hey! A picture of something I sewed. I made the dress Ani is wearing. You know, the one you can’t actually see because it’s cut out of the picture? Yes, that one. Nevermind.

I’ve been thinking about time a lot tonight. How long it’s been, what he would have been doing. And it’s weird, but it feels like it happened in an alternate universe, not this one. There’s normal every day time and then there’s this other rip in that whole time space continuum thing and THAT is where everything that happened was. It didn’t happen here at all. I don’t look at other babies and be sad and wonder what he would have been doing because he wasn’t ever part of this reality. Or something. I don’t know. Maybe my mind is just really good at building clever defense mechanisms; I don’t know.

To illustrate the point, we got a card from the nicu at the hospital today. It was really very sweet, an “It’s been nearly 10 months since you lost him; we are thinking of you and remembering him fondly.” And I thought “Huh, that’s nice. I wonder if the nurses there do remember him really? Did he make an impression on any of them?” Brandon said “It’s nice they have people at the hospital that do that.” And we went on our way. Lalalalala. And it was about two hours later when I was putting Anika to bed that I started wondering about two things. The first was that I’m not sure where they found Anika’s name. She was never allowed in the hospital there because of flu season and stuff so no one there ever met her. How did that happen? And the second was when I started counting months on my fingers and realized that it has NOT been almost 10 months since we lost him. It’s been almost 8.

WHAT KIND OF PERSON AM I?? How can it possibly have taken me HOURS to recognize that there was a problem with how old they said my son would have been? What kind of dumb ass mother doesn’t know that?!? I….don’t even know. No idea. All I can figure is that I’ve somehow separated the idea of him from the “here”. He wasn’t supposed to be here. So he’s not. So I don’t even connect those things. Sigh. GaaaaAAAAaaahh.

I miss him though. I wish he was here. I wish it was different. I wish I was saying “Yeah, he’s almost 8 months….he’s finally sitting on his own!” Or, “I haven’t slept in days because dude won’t stop GROWING TEETH already!” Or any of those normal things. Normal. What a concept.

Anyway. I have missed you my little blog and I shall endeavour to actually update you a little more frequently now that I am no longer flitting away for various adventures. Picture post coming as soon as I manage to get them off of my camera. Yep, am awesome.

But you know what? It’s one possibly uncomfortable day. I will probably dread it and probably be extra snarky but I figure it’s just not worth getting upset about. My mom’s a good person; she wasn’t trying to hurt me. It’s a bit insensitive, but I’ll survive.

So hey, it’s friday! And you know, it’s not a bad one. Gorgeous fall day (except, where did summer go??). We met B after work at a park near the office and he and Ani played for awhile while I went for a run, then we all went to the pub for dinner. Ani dutifully noted that it was “VERY LOUD” there and thought it was great fun to use her “VERY LOUD” voice there. All fun.

Ani started nursery school recently – she just goes three mornings a week – and you know, it’s kind of hilarious. She seems a bit nervous going in but apparently shakes it off fast – she apparently told the teacher she “couldn’t come to the door right now because she was talking to her friend” when I showed up to get her. Hee. Of course when I asked her about her friend she blinked at me blankly and said “I glue hearts!” Huh.

She’s getting all social on me – tonight she stopped to chat up the soccer goalie – while the game was in progress – on our way to dinner. She let him know that she LIKES soccers (sidenote: all sports plural to Anika. Basketballs. Soccers. Etc.), and that she was going to have dinner now with mommy and daddy. This random conversations with strangers thing should probably make me nervous but in truth it slays me. I think it’s so funny that she’ll cheerfully go and chat up people.

Happy weekend – go drink some wine.