On Blogging Your Life...

Some days, blogging is one of the best things that's ever happened to me.  It's allowed me to have an outlet - a place to dump all of my feelings, fears and anger.  It saves my Mom and my sisters from having to sit on the phone with me for hours.  It's given me a place to vent and cry and mourn.  Writing has allowed me to connect with people in a way that I wouldn't otherwise.  I'm a real homebody - but let's face it... we all need to connect.  And when you're a special needs parent with a thousand questions and maybe hundreds of answers - it's crucial to connect with others.  Gavin is only 5 1/2 so trust me when I say - I learn from others way more than I teach others.  The things that I've learned from readers of this blog - or writers of other blogs - have been, in some cases, life changing.  

This blog has been a place where I share all of our experiences with regard to all things "special needs"  in the hopes that others can benefit.  And when I receive comments that it's helped - or you learned something - or you were inspired by Gavin - it makes me so happy.

This blog has been a place where I have shared all of our experiences with infertility, miscarriages, stillbirth, high risk pregnancies and post partum depression in the hopes that women (or men!) out there feel less alone.  And when I receive comments that it has - or when I receive an email from someone sharing their darkest hours with me - I feel so privileged.  

This blog has been a place where I have shared my parenting methods.  My health issues.  My most personal moments.  I share all of this always with the hope that it will help someone, touch someone, inspire someone or teach someone something new.

But...

Isn't there always a but?

Blogging can be a depressing place.  There have been nights that I've cried to my Mom on the phone (as 42 year old women do, right?) about a nasty comment or two.  She always says, "Well, Kate, you put yourself out there!"  And she's right.  But she's wrong.

To me, this blog is so personal.  I consider it like inviting people into my home for a cup of tea and a chat... with the occasional forced slide show presentation of pictures of my kids.  I don't get political... I don't say "this is how you should do it" about anything... I just write about my life.

But when you're a blogger - it's kind of "open season."  And I don't think it's fair.

If you write that you don't spank - you get mail from people saying you're judging people who do.

If you write that your son had a febrile seizure and it was the scariest moment of your life - you get a comment saying "Give me a break. It was a febrile seizure. You're so dramatic."

If you write that you do anything special or extra for your kids - you get mail that you're a helicopter Mom and are screwing up your kids immensely.

If you write that you like to pick up your son from preschool with a cold glass of milk and a cheese stick ready for him in the car - just because you think it's sweet! - you get a comment that you're spoiling him and he will be screwed up immensely.

If you write about a terrible experience at a public place watching a mother verbally assault her son - and share how it affected you - and express your opinion that it just wasn't okay - you, yourself, will be called on the carpet.  You didn't do enough, you should have mentored her (with your two kids with you), you should have helped her, you should have reported her... and you sure as hell shouldn't have "judged" her.  When you write that you had sympathy for the little boy - you didn't have enough sympathy for the Mom.  Suddenly, you're the mean one.

If you write that you support the elimination of the word "retarded" from circulation (much like the "f" word and the "n" word that you don't hear as much at all anymore!) - trust me, you will get all KINDS of comments and mail.  I don't even want to go there now.

Oh, and if you write a blog at all - you're an attention whore.  You need constant validation.  If you monitor comments so nasty ones don't end up in your blog about your own life journey as a Mom - you're a narcissist who only allows comments that flatter you.

Basically, you can't win.

Basically, if you write anything on the internet - it is open season to criticize, debate, take issue with, insult or demean you.  It's not just me - it's all bloggers!  Heck, there's an entire website (probably more - but I only know one) thats sole purpose is to judge, criticize, poke fun at and insult bloggers. One of my friends writes a wildly popular blog and as much as I learn amazing things from the comments people write under her posts - I feel like I have to take a Valium before I do.  There's always one or two or more really nasty comments that get me so upset.  I don't know how she handles it as well as she does - she's much tougher than me.

I shouldn't be so sensitive to these things.  But I am.  I don't like confrontations.  And I get my feelings hurt way too easily.  Especially when I put my life out there and someone harshly judges it instead of just, say, rolling their eyes in the privacy of their own home and clicking the little x box to leave my site.  Not everything needs to be an argument.  And not everything needs to be picked apart and analyzed.  I feel sometimes if I don't share something in the "right way" that it will then be taken the wrong way and my point will be completely lost. It's a lot of pressure.

Can you imagine sitting in someone's kitchen over a cup of tea - listening to them tell you a story about their son's first (and hopefully last) febrile seizure...how they truly thought (truly) that he was dead at one point...and how it was the single most terrifying moment of their lives?  Then can you imagine snapping back, "Are you for real?  It was a freaking febrile seizure.  You are the worst kind of parents.  This kid is going to grow up a derelict because of your smothering."

Me either.

Anyway, blogger bullying is on my mind tonight.  Nothing happened - it has just been on my mind.  I don't get it.

Do you?

Revisiting...

On this day last year, I wrote a little post called "Whispers of Hope."  I never could have imagined how much it would touch people.  It was one of those days that I didn't know what to write - the kids probably hadn't done anything special (as if that's even possible) - so I wrote about what I was feeling in that moment.

I'm not sure why this particular post struck a nerve... but 1,745 people have read it.  That's mind blowing to me.  And the mail I got specifically referencing that post over this year has touched me so much.  Everyone's journey to their family is so unique and I really love hearing your stories.  And, as always, I'm grateful that you care about mine...

So I went back and re-read this post - Whispers of Hope - and decided it was worth another day, one year later.  As I sit here today I don't know what I believe - what I feel - or what's in store for our family.  But I do know this - hope is something I'll never lose.

Thank you for caring about our family!

*******************

Whispers of Hope...

This morning, standing at our sinks in the bathroom, Ed and I realized what day it was. July 7th. He reminded me that our friends were married on 7/7/07 four years ago. Which then reminded us both that I went to their wedding pregnant with Gavin.

This is me on their wedding day just before we left the house...

I was so big and so happy and so hopeful.

That day seems like yesterday to me. I remember going to Nordstrom that morning and pretending that I was interested in buying makeup so I could get someone to make me up for the wedding. (I'm rather clueless in that department!) I remember dancing with Ed and telling him that we wouldn't have that many more "night's out" before Gavin arrived.

Truer words had never been spoken. We could never have known what was ahead for us and our family.

It seems like yesterday that THIS photo was taken.

We spent every day in the NICU from the minute they opened the doors to the evening when we would be told to go home. I was so hopeful. I just knew he'd be fine and every day I thought he would be discharged. I could not have known that this was just the beginning of a long, difficult journey.

It seems like yesterday that this was in my routine. Holding a teeny tiny baby boy named Brian who breastfed perfectly and was easy to soothe.

Brian's arrival was filled with hope. We were so happy to have a little brother for Gavin. Although it was hard to juggle an infant and a medically fragile one year old, I just knew we were on the right path. I knew that things would be okay. I was sure that Gavin would benefit from having a sibling to grow up with.

It seems like yesterday I was pregnant with Darcy.

I thought I had won the lottery. Two sons and now a daughter. After losing so many pregnancies, I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I passed that first trimester with little to no issues. I had such hope - I started envisioning hair bows and dresses... girl talk and getting manicures together. I even started hating her future husband...just as I hate Gavin and Brian's future wives. (Just kidding. Sort of.) And then, I lost her.

It seems like yesterday that I was pregnant again and so hopeful.

I thought this baby was surely sent from Heaven and Darcy had something to do with it. Hope can make you think up some pretty interesting scenarios. Just as soon as we found out he was a third son...he was gone.

Since then, we have tried. And tried. And tried. Those who have gone through a struggle to conceive know that it is emotionally trying. Those who haven't will just have to believe me. Through the last four years I have had one common theme. I have refused to stop hoping. And my hoping is more like believing. I believe that Gavin will be okay. I believe that Brian will talk soon. I believe that our daughter's life was meant to teach us something. And I believe that a third child is meant to be in this family. I know it like I know my name.

When the world says, "Give up,"

Hope whispers, "Try it one more time."

~Author Unknown

Sunday Blues...

Thanks for all the nice notes after yesterday's post.  In hindsight, I shouldn't have let anything overshadow what I wrote about our trip to the shore.  I regret that.  I was so proud of both Gavin and Brian for so many reasons while we were on vacation.  How they bravely tried new things:  Gavin was MUCH more daring in the water and Brian took on some new rides ALL. BY. HIMSELF. which were both HUGE feats!!  How good they both were:  Gavin was so patient and slept so well even though we stuck him in a crib WITH a crib tent!  And Brian was such a good listener and kept us laughing all week.  And how well they slept being that we kept them out partying on the boardwalk until the stars were out!!

But that recent incident of rudeness was heavily on my mind.  As are many things these days.  Not to beat a dead horse, but I want to make a plea to all of you.  Please don't joke about paternity - or even question it in any way, shape or form.  I'm going out on a limb and speaking for many people.  This isn't a new thing for me - I've been getting rude comments and "winky" looks and jokes since Gavin was an infant when we were surprised to see him with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes.  I've never appreciated it...not one time.  And I'm ashamed for feeling a need to defend myself (when there's nothing to defend).  I'm done.  And I hope everyone else is, too.  Soon (maybe even now!) my children will be aware of what you are saying.  If they overhear something and misunderstand, it could leave them confused and hurt.  Your "joke" could have lasting repercussions.  It has affected both of us so much over the years that it prompted me to ask our geneticist for her thoughts.  She not only said to not be ridiculous - going on to point out obvious features that Gavin has that are 100% from Ed... but she said that Gavin's obvious genetic syndrome (yet to be named!) could be to blame for his light hair - his light skin - and many other of his features that, frankly, neither of us have.  Whatever - I don't need to explain this to anyone.  But this is not only my problem.  I've heard from many of you that have been victim to this type of "insinuation" and "nosiness".  What if you make what you think is an "innocent joke" - and the child you're talking about was adopted?  Or the product of an egg donor?  And what if, for whatever good reason, the parents haven't told that child?  It's always best to keep your mouth closed - you just never know what your words can stir up.  And once you say something - you just walk away and live your life.  You never look back to see the shambles behind you.

Anywhoooo...

I could write so much more, but I don't want to overwhelm you with negativity in one sitting.  I do have a lot on my mind, though.  Tomorrow I'll write about Gavin and Brian's changing relationship and how it may land me in therapy.  Sounds like fun, right?? 

I Lied...

Dear Readers,




I lied to you.


I'm sorry.


In fairness, I didn't mean to lie.  I guess I was also lying to myself.  You know, when I said things like this:


It feels good to be going into this last and final attempt feeling okay - feeling sure - feeling a sense of acceptance that whatever happens is what was meant to happen.


If I'm not pregnant - we will be fine!  In a way, I will feel relief.  I can clear out our basement filled with stored baby items - clothes, equipment, toys and more.  I will feel relief that I can just live - like nothing is hanging over my head like an undone 'to-do' list.  I will feel energized to kick our lives into high gear - do more, play more, heal more, learn more. 


I really meant it!  I typed that blog post after walking around for days with a puffed up chest.  So proud of myself for having gotten to that place.  Surprised that I felt so peaceful about walking away from trying to conceive should this round with an egg donor not work out.


I was wrong.


I guess I did lie to you about one thing.  How the embryo transfer actually went.  It did not go well.  At least from my perspective.  For months I was preparing myself.  The meds were preparing me physically...and with the help of Dr. Trish and my acupuncturist, Dr. Kang, I was getting prepared mentally and emotionally. I needed to have a peace about me.  It was so important to me that everything be in harmony before I accepted that embryo.  I wanted this little baby to feel welcome and want to stay.


But something happened immediately before the transfer that got me extremely upset emotionally.  It's not important what it was (so don't ask), but I fell into hysterics and couldn't calm myself down.  I almost had a panic attack.  Also, something my doctor said made things worse.  I've been taking Estrogen supplements to prepare for this embryo.  He mentioned something about an "Estrogen high" and when I come down from that I may have regrets about only choosing to fertilize and transfer one egg.


What?  I'm on an "estrogen high?"  Does that mean my decision may have been clouded?  Does that mean my "confidence" about being done and walking away was because of this false sense of happiness and contentment due to high amounts of Estrogen???  


I was so confused...and so upset...and so anxious from that moment on.  When I tell you I sobbed during the entire transfer - I mean I covered my face to shield everyone from the *ugly cry* and worried that my shaking body might dislodge the newly placed embryo.  I wasn't able to watch it on the ultrasound machine like I wanted.  I couldn't even talk to the doctor afterward.  Truth be told, I cried and had major anxiety for the two days I was on bedrest.


Because of that - I convinced myself that there was no way that this could have worked.


All of the ways I planned to be?  Happy...joyous...content.  Repeating my mantra, "Not my will, but thy will be done."  Having zero anxiety or any negative feelings for fear of affecting the embryo.  It was all out the window.  I feel cheated - and I feel like I cheated that little embryo of a good start...or even a chance at all.


Anyone who has been through infertility or IVF or donor eggs or multiple miscarriages or a stillbirth will probably understand how difficult this entire process is.  The wait after the transfer until you find out is one of the hardest parts.  I've received your emails and comments (that I didn't post publicly) chastising me for testing too early.  (I buy most of my tests in bulk for a very inexpensive price here)  I'm pretty sure that most (if not all) of you don't get it.  Let me help you understand something...


The earliest that I ever got a positive home pregnancy test was eight days after ovulation - and that was Brian's natural conception.  So, with that knowledge - I started testing three days after my embryo transfer.  Early?  Yes.  But my transfer was five days after the egg was fertilized.  Which means that it translates to eight days after "ovulation".  One day sooner than the pregnancy test box tells you they can catch it - but if you're pregnant, it will show up.  So who cares that I tested then?  I don't really know why anyone cared.


Today?  I am eleven days past a five day transfer.  That translates to sixteen days past ovulation.  I continue to get negative tests.

It's not looking good.


The worst is how you feel during this time.  I'm still on copious amounts of Estrogen.  And I'm also on Progesterone.  Progesterone not only mimics pregnancy symptoms...but it also keeps you from getting your period.  Of course when you're anxious to know if you're pregnant or not you obsess over every sign and symptom.  Tender breasts, fatigue, hunger, etc.  But they all could be caused by the progesterone.  And then when you start feeling pre-menstrual symptoms - you don't know if it's really that because the progesterone keeps you from bleeding!  It's a mind tease.


There have been a few tests (like today) where I swore I saw a shadow of a line.  But I'm not optimistic.  In my experience, if the shadow really is a positive - at this late date - it could be a chemical pregnancy.  Or a beta level so low that it can only go down.


I, of course, have scoured the internet looking for hope.  Searching for stories where women went in with a shoebox filled with negative pregnancy tests and came out with a positive blood test.  Or women who woke up the morning of their beta blood test and FINALLY got their positive home pregnancy test.  They would be categorized under "stranger things have happened" with a sub-category of "But not to Kate."


Do you know that I've composed my thank you letter to our anonymous donor already?  I wrote it before the transfer.  And on the day of her egg retrieval, we had the nurses present her with a bouquet of Sunflowers as a thank you for all she was enduring (egg retrieval is an uncomfortable process!).  That is how sure I was that I was going to get pregnant.  She's so young.  The embryo was their "gold standard," they said.  I had no reason to think it wouldn't work - I put so much preparation into accepting this embryo and helping it to implant and grow.


If I'm right - and I'm not pregnant - I will feel like a complete failure.  I just couldn't pull myself together and I'm hating myself for that.  I feel like this perfect gift that was handed to us got all screwed up.  And if this is going to end as I suspect - I just feel like I'd be failing Gavin and Brian.  I so wanted them to have another sibling (especially Brian).


I've been very depressed the last two weeks.  Yesterday, Father's Day without my Dad, was one of the hardest days in a while.  I thought I would be SO okay if this didn't work.  But now, on the eve of my blood test, I'm panicked.  I'm so afraid of a breakdown when they call me with the news.  Suddenly I feel devastated that this dream of a third child is coming to an end.  Partly because I wouldn't be pregnant.  But also because it wasn't supposed to end this way.  At all.


Am I making sense?


I'm not kidding you when I say I'm rather fragile at the moment.  And I'm not ashamed to admit it either - unless you have walked my journey, you'd have no idea how this feels.  If you have a nasty comment...or a need to lecture me...or say anything remotely mean, cruel, patronizing, preachy or rude, it will hurt me deeply.  Please...just say no to bullying me about this.  And please - please do not tell me (for the eight thousandth time) to consider adoption.  You're not privy to decisions and discussions and reasons within our four walls.


I will get my results sometime tomorrow in the afternoon.  And I will definitely post them as soon as I can.


Sorry to not be my usual self.  I'll find that person again at some point...


kate.

Not My Will, Thy Will...

Well, this is it.  The eve of my final embryo transfer.  Perhaps you're tired of reading about all this fertility stuff.  I would understand that!  Believe it or not, I will feel THRILLED tomorrow when it's over.  


Why? 


Because I'm tired of trying.  I'm tired of filling my body with bottles full and needles filled with all kinds of medicines.  I'm tired of charting and schedules and internal ultrasounds and blood tests.  I'm tired of moodiness as a side effect.  (Although it's been a perfect excuse)  I'm tired of failures that are heartbreaking...and a husband who keeps needing to console me.  I'm tired of thinking about it and saving everything for a baby that hasn't come.


I feel like we've been living in limbo since Darcy died.  But we are ready to move from there.  Finally.


It feels good to be going into this last and final attempt feeling okay - feeling sure - feeling a sense of acceptance that whatever happens is what was meant to happen.  Tomorrow morning at 11:30, one little embryo will be delivered into my womb.  I will rest in bed for two days and will continuously repeat my mantra...


Not my will...but Thy will be done.


I will know if I'm pregnant or not in two weeks or less.


If I'm pregnant - we will be overjoyed!!  Girl or boy - we're happy either way!  We would be thrilled to finally give Gavin and Brian another sibling to share their journey with.  We have a bedroom for this baby - and equipment for this baby - and love that knows no boundaries. I will feel energized to kick our lives into high gear - do more, play more, heal more, learn more. And we would be forever grateful to the angel donor who helped us bring that baby home.

If I'm not pregnant - we will be fine!  In a way, I will feel relief.  I can clear out our basement filled with stored baby items - clothes, equipment, toys and more.  I will feel relief that I can just live - like nothing is hanging over my head like an undone 'to-do' list.  I will feel energized to kick our lives into high gear - do more, play more, heal more, learn more. 

Either path is lined with roses.  


It's shocking, even to me, that I feel this way.  I could only get here on my own...in my own time.  And now that I'm here - it feels right.  I bet you that this new place of acceptance will be what gets me pregnant this time.  Perhaps this is where I was meant to be all along.  Better late than never, right?


Not my will...but Thy will.

One Egg - One Basket...

It's very possible that tomorrow might be the day - our final effort to conceive.  I got the call from the embryologist that our embryo is growing and dividing beautifully.  Then I got the call from then nurse to tentatively schedule my embryo transfer for tomorrow morning at 11:30!  There's still a possibility that things will change and they'll decide to push it to Thursday, but I won't know that until tomorrow morning when they check the embryo again.


***Edited today to update!  The transfer has been postponed two days.  This is the best news ever and I'll explain why in the next post!***

We can't use the expression that we're putting all our eggs in one basket...because the opposite is true.  We chose to only use ONE egg.  

One egg - one basket.  One egg which would become one embryo which would (theoretically) become one baby (hopefully).  It's a big gamble - but that was our choice after long and thoughtful consideration.  We originally thought we would use two eggs from the donor - fertilize both - transfer one - then freeze or donate the remaining embryo.  We changed our mind.  So far things are going so well - we're lucky!!  We realize it's a big risk, but we're okay with that.  If this baby is meant to be, it will happen.  We really believe that.

This afternoon, Miss Janna brought a visitor with her to Gavin's therapy.  Deb Hiller is a consultant within the school system and her job (one of a thousand, I'm sure!) is to stock Gavin's new classroom for the Fall!  I was so flattered that she would want to come by to check up on Gavin and see not only what his physical needs would be...but what types of things he likes and responds to.  Gavin, unfortunately, was in a sad mood for some inexplicable reason during her visit - big tears and everything!  But she was still able to get an idea for the things he'll need.  I told her we would keep in touch - I'm sure there are toys of Gavin's that I could donate (or replicate!) to send with him when school starts!

The details of the class and the start and stop time are still being ironed out.  So far there are only three students in the class - but they are sure that number will grow over the next couple months.  What I do know is that the day is longer than Brian's - but what I don't know is how much longer or if I'll be able to swing driving both (in two different directions!).  Regardless, I am shocking myself with how comfortable I am with this school idea.  As my Mom just told me on the phone - I've come a long way. And so has Gavin.

It's very easy for me to picture having two little boys in pre-school and having a morning free getting to know a new baby Leong.  

Let's hope that vision becomes a reality!!

Honeymoon 8.0...

"That was the best night's sleep I've had in years."

"This was the best food I've had ever."

"I feel the most relaxed I've felt in a long time."

"That was the greatest nap of my life."

"I feel more in love with you than ever before."

These were just some of the things you would have overheard if you were on our romantic anniversary trip to San Juan, Puerto Rico last week.  This short getaway came at the right time...and it couldn't have gone smoother from start to finish.

Ed booked us in a Villa Suite at the Caribe Hilton and it was an incredible property.  Our room overlooked the ocean and we left out balcony doors open at night so we could fall asleep to the ocean breeze and crashing waves.  We were in Heaven...truly.  Sitting on our balcony doing nothing was one of the highlights of our trip. 

After leisurely unpacking, we got a bite to eat and wandered over to the concierge.  While planning our trip at home, we had big ideas.  Like taking a boat through a Bioluminescent bay...or ziplining.  Perhaps horseback riding on the beach...or even a guided rainforest tour that included a trek to a waterfall we could swim under.

But then - we got real.

We're the Leongs.  We don't do rugged and outdoorsy.  At least not like that.  So we tossed the brochures and executed plan B immediately - napping under the palm trees on the beach in a hammock built for two.

(When Brian saw this picture at home he said to Sara, and I quote, "Mommy!  Daddy!  They fell!  Uh oh!  Can't reach trees.  They in jungle...no leaves anymore.  The leaves fell in the grass.  All messy.")

We spent a good deal of time in that hammock over the next few days - and it was, as you can imagine, blissful.  

We also went swimming in the lagoon which, much to my dismay, was not blue.  My childhood fantasy was shattered right then and there.

We went into town that evening to one of our favorite restaurants - the unpretentious, very authentic "Cielito Lindo".  It was such a great experience - I felt like I was one one of our first dates!

The next morning we woke up - big surprise - the same time we wake up at home.  But there was one difference - we felt refreshed, relaxed and weren't in a rush to get anywhere.  We had one and only one plan - to take an hour trip to El Yunque Rainforest.  We've been there before and it's just breathtaking.

We - the lazy Leongs - actually hiked up those rocks to get close to the waterfall.  Impressed??  

*wink*

Upon seeing this photo, Sara sent us another observation from Brian.

"Mommy - Daddy - WOW!  They in a fountain!  Not in the mall, in a jungle.  Be home soon!"  

We realized we were looking forward to his comments a lot - they were cracking us up!

We climbed to the top of the Yokahu Observation Tower to see one of the most incredible views of the rainforest.  Imagine feeling like you're above the trees, close to the clouds.  

And here's Brian again:

"Mommy Daddy have glasses on.  They are not in the fountains anymore.  They all clean."

I was slightly obsessed with the largest bamboo trees we've ever seen.  They were magnificent.

(p.s. - I love this photo of my cute husband)

As we drove down the mountain and out of the rainforest, Ed and I vowed to one day bring the kids back here.  It's such a special place to us.

That night we had dinner at Lemongrass Pan Asian Latino Restaurant which, lucky for us, was right in the hotel.  The setting was incredibly romantic.  We sat outside in what can only be described as a tree house over the water.  But to get there we walked a foot bridge beside and over a Koi pond that was also the home to swans.  It was a delicious dinner...and a beautiful night by the water.

Our last day there came too soon and we only had one major goal - to get to Old San Juan.  I had something special planned as a surprise to Ed and was bursting as we walked the beautiful, cobblestone streets.  The architecture...colors...and rich history of Old San Juan is lovely.  I had a great time taking pictures...

I just love the city of Old San Juan.  My hair doesn't.  But I do.

Finally we made it to my surprise destination.  The beautiful Cathedral of San Juan Bautista.  

And it was there on their main altar that Ed and I renewed our vows.  

It was the highlight of my trip.

As we walked toward our car, we passed one of Old San Juan's pigeon parks!  I thought it would be a great opportunity to send a fun photo home to the boys - imagine Mommy with birds sitting all over her!  My worst nightmare - but it just goes to show the lengths I'll go to entertain my children.  Ed took the camera and stayed a safe distance (smart guy) as I was a little more than freaked out - hoping these pigeons wouldn't poop on my arms. 

  I sent the photo home to get this back from Brian:

"Daddy's gone!  Aw, Daddy's missing!"

That's IT???  I felt a little jipped - not gonna lie.  hee hee

After one last snooze in the hammock, we made our way to the airport.  Happy.  Content.  In love.  This trip, as it turns out, was a brilliant idea.  

I wrote home to the boys, "Remember what I say: trips like this are very good for a marriage.  And a friendship!"  And knowing that Brian was missing Daddy after that pigeon photo - I sent this picture from the plane.  (Check out Ed's scissorhands!)  

We got back... "Daddy!!  Daddy's awake now!  Where'd Mommy go? Mommy in picture?  No Mommy anymore!"

This was an unforgettable trip for us.  We couldn't have done it this well...this comfortably...without Miss Sara.  Knowing she was with the boys - and getting the constant communication that made us laugh and talk about just how lucky we are - it made our trip that much better.  Walking into their rooms Sunday morning to their smiling faces...we felt like the luckiest Mommy and Daddy in the world.

It was the happiest of anniversaries.