I haven’t posted because I’ve felt I’m expected—possibly even required—to post about my father, and…I don’t want to. His dying was both expected and a shock. It’s complicated, both the Rube Goldberg-like route he took to death and my feelings about it and him and us. Writing about it, even thinking of writing about it, is unwieldy and exhausting. I don’t want to, not because it would be too painful, or because I have suddenly developed a sense of propriety that would preclude dissecting my every internal burble in virtual public, but because there is so much else vying for space within my head (to be quite frank, being pregnant after a stillbirth leaves little room for thoughts of anything else), and I am working so hard to believe that Good Things Are Ahead! (i.e. the baby won’t die), that now that it is over—the seeing him for the last time and the wondering if I ought to have handled that differently and the dying that made such wondering mute—I want to put it all aside for a bit, taking advantage of the fact that our long near-estrangement means that his death will leave my day-to-day life largely unchanged.
2011 was a singularly grueling year, and having seen the back of it, I’m not feeling reflective. This probably won’t last—I have the tiresome ability to come over all contemplative at the sight of a discarded gum wrapper, after all—but if all I can do at the moment, or all I want to do at the moment, is look fixedly ahead, so be it. I’m sure this reflects poorly upon me in some way, but ah well. I don’t care enough to forego posting about the things I DO want to post about, at least not anymore.
Right now, I am about 16 weeks pregnant, and three days ago the baby looked like this:
I’ve been convinced for a long time now—based upon absolutely nothing at all, mind—that this baby is a girl, and at Saturday’s ultrasound the tech was 80ish% sure I am right. (With the twins, they said at 17 weeks that Ames was definitely a boy and Simone was very-likely-but-let’s-check-again-next-time a girl, so maybe it is harder to be certain with girls?) I had no preference at all—boy, girl, some new model entirely—but it has become increasingly hard not to think of the baby by its name (or what stands an 80ish% chance of being its name) and so if it is a boy I suppose I will owe it an apology.
This past week was the 4th anniversary of a certain horrible week that changed everything, and, as expected, it was trying. One of the days I woke up convinced the baby was dead. My doppler wasn’t much help with Ames and Simone as I could never tell for certain if I was hearing two separate heartbeats, but this time it has been a godsend, and I imagine it will continue to be until I am feeling regular, consistent movement (I felt some for the first time last week, late at night, but nothing definite since). Another day last week found me spending the afternoon in bed with a run of contractions (Braxton Hicks?) that eventually subsided with water, heat, and rest. I say this every year, but oh, I will be glad when January is over.
Simone continues to be the very best thing up to and including sliced bread. The other night, we were sitting in my bed, in near hysterics over something or another, and we finally subsided into giggles and sighs.
“Ah,” said Simone, in the peculiar accents of a 3-year-old, “it’s funny to laugh!”
{ 50 comments… read them below or add one }
I have to say, that is a very cute profile there. And I think it is harder to tell with girls, especially early on like this, because with a boy you are seeing the PRESENCE of something, and in the absence of said thing, all you can be sure of is that you’re not seeing it, not that it’s actually not there, if you get my drift.
Hope you have a speedy and uneventful conclusion to this trying month.
Girls are definitely harder to tell. If it’s a boy, it’s definitely a boy. My older son the perinatologist said was a boy at 12 weeks. Despite the more frequent ultrasounds with the first set of twins, they were leg crossers and it was 17 weeks before we knew. I briefly entertained the idea of not finding out with this second set of twins, since they were such a surprise anyway, but decided that was crazy. It was nice already having named Aurelia and feeling like I “knew” her a bit before she was stillborn.
Welcome back, dearest! And for heaven’s sake, we want to see baby pictures too, so stop apologizing! If and when you feel the need to talk about your father, we will be here to listen. In the meantime, that’s the most perfect baby that I’ve ever seen.
Much as I like to read anything you have written, you are not under any moral obligation to post, you know. You really do get to select the topic, too. Baby news is always welcome.
I never post but have been reading for years and I just had to say oooohhh I’m so glad to see you back here again! Glad that the new one is growing and heartbeating and looking cute in pics. Hoping that the trials of pregnancy vomiting are starting to subside. I check this blog every day and was starting to despair of ever seeing you again and knowing the rest of the story. (aka your life) Here’s to a better 2012!
Sometimes all you need to do is move forward. I don’t think it would make you a better person to do alot of navel-gazing about a relationship when you already put alot of time and energy there. Death doesn’t make someone better or worse than they were in life. It does, however, render the ‘what ifs’ moot. Focusing on the family you have now makes alot of sense to me.
Welcome back Alexa. You must write what you want, how you want and where you want. The death of your father and your relationship with him is your story to tell or to keep private. Should you need to write about him and your relationship you may prefer to keep it private which is your prerogative. As long as you write the hurt out of your system it doesn’t matter if anyone else gets to read about it.
Simone is a most observant little person, it is indeed funny to laugh!
Oh, and, hello baby – aren’t you growing beautifully ;-)
It just keeps getting better :-) my 12yr-old daughter and I regularly get into hysterics over things (often whilst we’re doing math (we homeschool) of all things). There is something so delightful about being hysterical with one’s daughter. I am so happy for you with the new baby and all. Be well!
Glad to hear from you, I’ve been thinking good thoughts for you. I’m sorry about your father, and I know January is a hard month for you. But don’t mind me as I click over daily to see if you’re around :)
Simone has that right. I was listening to a funny audio book and laughing aloud in my car tonight, and it felt so good. We all need to laugh.
2012 will be better, Because I Said So That’s Why, and I say write about what you want, don’t write about what you don’t want.
Dear Alexa,
My thoughts have been with you quite a lot lately and I am so glad to have news that the baby is doing well.
I am so sorry for your grief. I know the complications of estranged parents and their ill health and perhaps the loss of what can now never be in those relationships.
Lovely Simone and her giggles. I wish you and you family much laughter and good things in 2012.
Discarded wrapper
Melancholy crumpled scrap
You are the old year
So great to hear from you, even more so with such lovely news! May 2012 be your best year ever!
Karen
P.S? FWIW, i lost my mother in May, after an 8 year “difficult period,” and have yet to begin to “feel like talking about it.” There are many days I feel as though I am just buried in denial and, equally as many where I feel certain that I did my grieving and venting and processing during that long, painful, 8 year stretch. I know this much: I’ll talk about it, process it, deal with it, whatever the heck it is I’m “supposed” to “do” with “it,” when I do. Funny thing I realized about death – seems its not going anywhere…..
Wishing you peace. And happiness. Yes, LOADS of Happiness!
Please do not feel the need/pressure to share anything that you don’t want to. I certainly don’t. I am so very glad that you are baby are well. I pray that everything stays that way for you.
My youngest has said that same exact thing many times and it is always so funny and always so perfect.
I’m sorry to hear that January has been bumpy. But YAY! Baby!!!!! And Simone is right, it IS funny to laugh!
Hugs!
It is always lovely to see your posts; I’m also delighted to have news both of your pregnancy and of Simone who is, of course, exactly right.
Here’s to February (and beyond) and to 2012.
Oh! So very nice to hear from you again. Glad you got to say good riddance to 2011, and, soon enough, to January too.
If it’s not too weird, I’ve been thinking about you & your pregnancy an awful lot, and I’m relieved to hear that things are going, er, mostly ok? Ish? Anyway, that is indeed one of the more beautiful ultrasound pictures I’ve ever seen… something so dreamy about it.
How does Simone feel about a little sister? One can only imagine the antics! The bathtub art lessons!
Well, I’m calling her 80% now. Update me when that percentage changes…
Hope January is kinder this year.
Holy Crap. Cara said it PERFECTLY. ” Death doesn’t make someone better or worse than they were in life. ”
Just… wow.
And honestly I click over here every day because I am hoping for new of the life beating within.
Your relationship with your father was complicated, at best, on a good day, as far as I can tell. And I have never once clicked open your blog expecting to read about how you were “dealing” with it all. It is. It was. It will be.
I know I sound crazy, but hopefully you know I mean it… I love you. I love Simone. I love Ames. And I love this little one. I can’t wait to know (her?) name. I am in awe.
Write whatever you want. I will be here to read. I love your blog, and I miss you when you stay away for a long time. And that baby looks so smart and cute!
My estranged father died this summer and holy shit, it was difficult. I am so sorry that you are dealing with that right now.
I’m so glad to see an update! I’ve been worried. Glad to hear that the 2012 model is cooking nicely!
And I agree, it is definitely funny to laugh!
You are never obligated to write about or post anything you don’t want to. Given my own estrangement from my parents, I think a lot about how I will react to their deaths, it will be complicated and not, I suppose.
Wow, just look at how far baby has come. Congratulations & hopes for continued smoothness in pregnancy,
Totally write what you want to. We would be happy to hear any thing from you!
Welcome back, Alexa! May 2012 bring wonderful things to you and your family :-) Baby II looks beautiful!
Seems like 80% needs a more human sounding moniker… Octavia? My kids are three years apart in age, too, and I was so glad to have the entertainment and distraction the second time around. Enjoy and savor every giggle!
So glad to hear from you, about Simone and see the new baybeee!! Everyday is a better day to come. Take care :)
If you go with Denise Martineau’s suggestion, then you could always change it to Octavius if it does turn out to be a boy.
Did you ever read Dave Barry’s essay on his final visit to his father (with whom he had a good relationship)? His wife and mother wanted him to have a Deep Conversation, but he said that he and his father had been talking since he learned how. “Let me not define his death in my terms.” So if we take that one step further, you owe us less than nothing about . . . anything.
Always up for Simone stories and baby pictures, though.
Okay, I’ve never posted before, but I feel that guilty need to admit that I follow (okay maybe stalk) your blog. I click on the link to check whether you’ve posted something every time I get on the web. New posts always feel to me like that email from a lost friend, the email you’re always checking your inbox for but can never actually admit to wanting, or perhaps in some way needing. So whether it’s pros about a wrapper, or new pictures of baby, I want to hear from you; at the end of the day, the poignancy comes from how you’ve written it, with that amazing on-paper voice of yours, and less so from what you choose to write about. I might never look at that discarded wrapper the same way again, and that’s a thousand times more important to me as a reader than feeling like you felt forced into writing about something that doesn’t want to be written.
That is one adorable wee one in there! I’ll echo what others have said–you should in no way feel obliged to write about your father. If it serves your needs to do so at some point, great–but if not, don’t. Simone (love that anecdote!) and your 80%-ish deserve the focus, after all.
Welcome back…I’m happy to hear happy baby news. And it is funny to laugh.
:)
My Dad committed suicide on my 21st birthday, 3 weeks after we saw each other for the first time in 14 years. Look ahead Alexa, look decidedly ahead. Focus on this beautiful little one and all the promise s/he holds.
I’m 13 weeks along, due end of July. I have not suffered a pregnancy loss, but had a very rough first time ’round (with my now 3-almost-4 year old) and am of ‘advanced maternal age’. Many things to think about indeed…it’s mind boggling.
I’m so glad Simone is there to remind you that ‘it’s funny to laugh’. What a wise girl!
Melissa
Hello, baby girl! What a great u/s image!
I am hoping that January speeds by and you can get onto the business of enjoying 2012.
Oh, Sweet Pea! You write whatever you feel like writing. I will always read it and love you for writing it! I am also thrilled that you seem to be having a girl. I am from a family of two girls, and I also have two girls. Sisters are the BEST– there is nothing like having a sister! I am so happy for Simone. I am sending daily prayers to you and your family.(I am also one of those people who checks your link every time I log on!)
What a beautiful profile! Undoubtedly, besides being gorgeous, a genius.
2011 was rough, and good riddance. January is half over, and it’ll be clear skies from now on. (I am including in that clear sky scenario a summer of sleeplessness and sibling jealousy, just so you know 2012 is not a complete pushover.)
Congratulations on your pregnancy Alexa! I am reading your book right now. I was one of those [lucky?] moms in the St. Paul NICU with a 35 weeker who couldn’t breathe. I know how fortunate I am to have made it that far, but being surrounded by friends with healthy babies (some overdue!) made me crazy, deranged bitter…especially when they talked about how trying their infants were. How uncomfortable their last month of pregnancy was. And, then, seemingly in the next breath, remind me of how lucky I was. How the NICU stay was scary, but it could have been a lot worse. The colic could be worse. His reflux could be worse. The choking spells could be worse. This just made me feel worse. They were right, but it doesn’t feel good to hear that. I didn’t need to hear that. I did need to hear your story. It has helped me to read your book. I walked those halls and had those wonderful (and not-so-wonderful) nurses, doctors, and NPs. I have a healthy 5-year-old now; one would think I would be over it. Thank you for writing about your experience (and writing it beautifully and humorously). I’m still working on recovering from the experience. I really needed your book in 2006 when I had my baby, but I am so grateful that your book is available to other parents going through the mess of the NICU. Best wishes to you, Scott, Simone and the little one you’re harboring in your uterus!
Hurray for the non-vetted human {girl}! She’s looking great. I am not sure why they are so eager to announce boy but always put a percentage on girl. I guess it is an issue of positive v. lack.
Don’t feel pressure to post/not post on any subject: you write so well, so beautifully and so humorously that we’d all stop by to read your grocery list. We’ve missed your voice.
Well, well — that little Octavia made me tear up… she is just. so. beautiful. A little fresh air on what would otherwise be a terrible, dank and pitiful month indeed. And like your other beloved readers, I often stalk-by, think of you and yours, and hope to hear anything from a dear and talented friend I don’t even know. Thank you for giving us this update. I’m sorry about the complicated but delighted by the joyfulness. Look ahead, dear friend… why the hell not.
This is your space to write about anything o your choice. Omitting is a choice too! Frankly, if written in your voice, I would read the phone book. It’s great to read how the new one is progressing and about Simone the wise.
Ah Alexa, she (80% is pretty high) is beautiful. And look. She’s waving!
Oh, how I love the crazy sentence construction of 3-year-olds!! It’s just the best to listen to their unique arrangement of nouns, verbs, adjectives, and adverbs. And, I just love the wacky way they conjugate verbs! I wish it would last forever!!
Ah, the wisdom of a child. It IS funny to laugh.
It IS good to laugh. That kid is one smart cookie. : )
I had a baby boy in November (he’s the very, very best) and did not know whether he was a boy or girl beforehand. I spent most of my pregnancy believing he was a girl and now I spend A LOT of time apologizing to him. I think next time, we’ll just go ahead and find out the sex beforehand so I don’t make the same mistake again.
oh my. i am just so fond of you three (four!), which is awkward, since we do not know each other. hoping for a speedy and uneventful end to january.
Lovely to see a post from you, whatever its content, but especially when it contains such loveliness.
I will always respect your right to choose your own topics for posting!
I’m very glad, though, to see a baby update. I am so happy for you and your family! I think I am about a week or so ahead of you. I have had 5 miscarriages, including 2 in the second trimester. My only successful pregnancy resulted my own science babies – boy/girl twins – who are a little younger than Simone. This pregnancy was a happy surprise (I’m quite a bit older than you) and I live in daily constant fear that something will go wrong. I’m cheering you on with every positive update, and nodding in agreement with every anxiety.
Wishing you all the best!
What a lovely little baby you are growing! It doesn’t seem adequate to say this in a comment, but I’m sorry about your dad. I know when I have lost loved ones, it feels strange that everything continues as usual – the sun still comes up, the garbage gets collected, etc. But it’s a good thing those things keep happening. I hope you are ok.
Okay. You made it through January. Please post again. I miss you.
I miss you too. good or bad or even by proxy, just a few lines would be great. if positive thoughts were sendable I’d ship you a boxfull asap.
hope all is well.