Getting There and Getting Nowhere...

I'm calling a "win" for this week.  I tried to step up my game in the Mom department by coming up with some fun activities to do with my little man.  We explored a few new playgrounds... we went out for lunch (at one of those places with a built-in indoor playground that I NEVER would have gone to when Gavin was alive... and now I know why.  Yuck!)... we had fun in the yard... and yesterday we tried another indoor bounce park called "Bounce Town."  (They even served a snack halfway through!)  

Brian had a lot of fun at Bounce Town, but there was one bummer.  There was a group of young kids there - but they were in their own groups.  They never sought to include him, as much as he tried to entice them with his charm and his "COME OVER HERE!" screams.  On the way home he announced that he liked "Bounce U" better (where we were last week) because there was a group of boys that completely included him like he was one of them.  I totally over-think this and really shouldn't relate this at all to Gavin.  If Gavin were alive, we wouldn't be doing many activities like this - and if we did, Gavin wouldn't have been able to participate much at all.  We'd be in the same boat with Brian looking for someone to play with. 

 My over-thinking can really do a number on my emotions if I let it.

I'm also super proud of something else...

I RETURNED DISHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WOOT WOOT!!!!

I also wrote a few more thank you notes and I made a good dent in the dining room sifting through the funeral items and gifts. And in an impossible and emotional task, I chose ten photos (about) from each year of Gavin's life to give to the videographer.  Choosing such a small amount of photos was pure torture for me, let me tell you.  And going through the photos was both painful and wonderful.  Like remembering this one, when I was so pregnant with Brian and life was still completely centered around Gavin.

The videographer that taped the funeral (which I'll be getting soon and placing in a post for those who'd like to see it) is also making a "Life Story" type of video about Gavin's life.  She had so many incredible ideas to make it a very powerful video... but it involved me asking people to be in it and coming up with a theme and, basically... it would have required me to think.  In a move of which I am both SHOCKED and proud of - I finally said, "I can't."  I don't often say that.  I'm a yes girl...sometimes to a fault.  I promise too much and then stress about delivering.  But this time I threw in the towel (as much as I would love a video like she is envisioning) and said "I just can't..."  And I'm okay with that.  It's actually a relief.  It's one less thing off my list of 99 things and it just has to be okay.

This afternoon, Brian and I met my friend Drew and his son, AJ, at a nearby playground.  The boys had fun and, when it came time to go, Brian was not happy.  He didn't want to go home.  The entire car ride home he reminded me that he didn't want to leave... that he wanted to stay... that he didn't want to go home right now... and then it morphed into when he did get home he wanted to ride his bike... and swim... and so on and so on.  By the time we pulled into the garage I felt an epic meltdown coming on. Not Brian... mine.

I told Brian we needed to go inside to have a little break and then we could go back outside.  He started to complain a bit and then I turned around - a single tear streaming down my cheek.  He got very quiet and knew that this was serious.  I told him that Mommy needed to go inside and cool off and take a break... and he was just going to have to be a good friend and be nice to me.  That I was doing the best I could to make sure he was having fun but he can't expect me to say yes to everything.  Sometimes Mommy has to say no - and he has to just deal with that.  (I immediately felt horrible for this guilt trip)  He dropped his head and said, "Ok, Mama."  We went inside...I turned the TV on Disney Junior...and I went into the kitchen and quietly let it out.

(Edited to add:  Brian does hear no.  But truthfully, I rarely have to say it with the force I did today.  He's typically a go with the flow kind of kid and he's pretty easy to convince that "Plan B" is just as fun.  I don't say yes to everything - I swear.)

I needed a moment.  I'm trying very hard to be there for Brian, push through my arthritis pain, deal with pregnancy exhaustion, tackle my to-do's which truly only I can do, and grieve.  There are days where I feel I fail miserably - when the TV is on more than I'd like or I say yes to extra snacks because in that moment I just don't care.  Then there are days when I don't and I hold onto those to stay sane.  In the middle of my meltdown, the garage opened.  Ed was home early.  I tried to calm myself down to greet him, but it was futile.  I spilled it all - told him about my anxiety - cried and cried.

He said he'd clear his calendar for the rest of the afternoon and stay with Brian if I wanted to get out of here.  Normally, I'd say "No, that's ok!" because I'd feel bad putting him out - especially on a work day!!  But this time... I said yes.  I grabbed my keys, kissed them and went nowhere fast.  Out there alone I could breathe - and cry - and breathe - and spend some money in Target.  (If you're wondering what I bought at Target - maternity clothes!  I have a very serious and official looking baby bump and I want to stop freaking people out in public when I dramatically unbutton my pants and let out a big sigh of relief.)

I can't believe I said yes.  But I'm glad I did.  And I'm glad I have a husband who recognized that I needed a break.

This road is not easy... but I'm getting there.  It feels like I'm getting nowhere...but I know I'm getting somewhere.  And I know it will be ok when I arrive.

Signed, me.

Full Disclosure:  It was pouring rain where I live today.  All day.  

In other news, I'm miserable... so you've been warned.

Dear You,

Have you written me an email - especially an email asking a question you're still waiting for an answer to?  Have you cooked us a meal and are wondering if we are grateful or if we liked it?  Have you sent us a gift and are waiting for us to acknowledge it?  If your answer is yes to one - or maybe ALL - it is my fault.  It has been 54 days... that's one month and twenty four days... since Gavin died.  Seven weeks and five days.  Or 1, 296 hours.

In a way, it seems like this happened just yesterday.  But if that were true, then why do the last 1, 296 hours seem like they have lasted 1, 296 years?  There are days when I wake up and say, "Today's the day - you're going to crank out thank you notes when Brian's in school."  And then... I come home from dropping him off, stare at the pile... and freeze.  There are other days when I wake up and say, "Today I'm going to return our neighbor's casserole dish."  I'll let you guess how long it has sat in the same spot in my dining room - in a bag with a thank you note.  I'm a mess.

I do have intentions of getting to everyone - and I'm embarrassed about how long it's taking me - but please hang on a little while longer.  I'm feeling pulled in so many directions - it seems so many people want a piece of me right now and it's so distracting and confusing and leaves me feeling... well... frozen.

And, just so all of you know... I read every single comment.  On my blog... on my facebook page... every email.  I continue to be touched and moved that anyone would want to reach out to me (as a stranger) at all.  I continue to be honored that you would trust me with your personal stories, tragedies and triumphs.  And I continue to be moved by your encouraging words, prayers and love towards our little family.  I wish I could respond to every single one of you - but if I did, I'd be in front of my computer all day and night... truly.  So please know that I see you - and I'm grateful.

Signed,

Me.

The Frazzled Lady.

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Dear Gavin,

I am trying really hard to be a great Mom to your little brother... to keep him entertained and play with him so I don't have to hear him say, "I'm lonely, Mama.  I need you to play with me."  It is so hard sometimes.  Today I resorted to handing him an umbrella and letting him run around on the driveway in the rain.  

I backed my car out of the garage so he could ride his bike in there.

And I sat... in my pajamas at 11am... and just watched.  (p.s. - see that big antique mirror?  It's very pretty.  If you're local, it's also free if you want to come pick it up.  I'll say 500 thank you's if you take it.)

I continued the water theme thinking of you all the while and let him take an extra long bath.  

Just like you, he's getting daring and putting his mouth in the water to try to blow bubbles.

I close the clear curtain and seal off the sides so he can splash as much as he wants while I sit on the toilet lid and watch.

I'm trying, Gavin.  In moments when all I want to do is curse the Heavens and cry all day - I remember that you would want me to think of your little brother.  I miss you so much.

Love, 

Mommy.

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Dear Body,

Seriously, you need to calm down.  Yesterday you and I were on good terms.  I didn't ask that much of you - playing with Brian outside for a while and doing a little bit of weeding here and there.  Today you are really overreacting about that.  I mean really - we didn't run a freaking marathon.  The aches and pains in my joints and muscle pain that I haven't felt since the Jane Fonda workout (which was obviously not recent) is just rude.  And it makes it even harder to get places that I'm summoned to all day by my little boy - like up and down off the floor or up and down the stairs or... up at all.  Please... if we're going to live together and get along, you need to chill out.

Love,

The Tin Woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Ed,

I'll be the first to admit - I haven't been the greatest wife lately.  Do you even remember me?  Oh, and you know those incredible meals we've been getting every day for the last 54 days from friends... and friends that are neighbors?  They are ending next week.  So... I'm sorry in advance.  Let's just make it a blanket summer apology to cover me for a while.  Let's plan a date.  How's tomorrow night?

Love,

Me.  You know... Kate.

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Dear Me,

If I had to guess, I bet you care about all of the above crap way more than anyone else.  I know you are a people pleaser and I know it's important to you to make sure everyone knows how much you appreciate everything - but try to breathe more and worry less.  And remember to keep your focus on the little people... like the one calling you right now saying "Watch this, Mama!"

Love,

You.

Weekending...

I'm going to take the weekend off from the blog.

Tonight and tomorrow we have Ed's cousin, Glenn, visiting from New York and the house is already a bit more cheerful.  Brian is laughing more, if you can imagine that, and Ed is looking forward to a fun night out with his good friend.

In other news, I am grateful for the connections I made through Gavin.  Thanks to an incredible nurse practitioner, Meganne, who works with Dr. Bonnemann at the NIH (you can read more about that our experience with them here!)... I was able to get hooked up with an excellent genetic counselor for Project Hope.  I will be getting a non-invasive blood test at ten weeks to test for any chromosomal defects through the University of Pennsylvania.  This is much more desirable to me than a CVS or Amnio... although, if there is a problem that shows up with the blood test I will move on to get one of the other tests.  

Why do I get genetic testing done?  Well, for multiple reasons.  One, my age pre-disposes me to chromosomal abnormalities.  And two, because of Gavin's undiagnosed genetic syndrome - I have always preferred to be tested.  Ed and I want to be prepared to handle whatever comes our way.  After the shock of Gavin's silent delivery room, we would rather go in with facts and a plan.  It won't change anything... but it will emotionally, mentally and perhaps financially help us plan.

This weekend I am hoping to chip away more of the mountain of thank you notes that are overwhelming my dining room.  I know many of you are thinking - or writing to me - that I shouldn't worry about thank you notes.  People will understand, you tell me.  But I want you to know this...

Every single thing that has been done for us... in honor of Gavin... and for Brian... it all means so much to me.  To think of anyone taking the time out of their lives to comfort us - feed us - pray for us - it brings tears to my eyes.  It may take me a year (let's hope not) - and I hope and pray I don't forget anyone (if I do, let me know!) - but they will get done.  It is important to me.

I also want to say thank you, again, for the contributions many of you have made in honor of Gavin.  Whether it was to CaringBridge... Nemours Child Life Department... Gavin's Trust Project... or the Gift of Life Family House. Whether it was a dollar - or five hundred - or five thousand.  We are so, incredibly grateful.  We were most recently blown away by my husband's co-workers and friends from his former company, Accenture.  They pledged $25,000 to the Gift of Life Family House in order to have one of their guest rooms permanently dedicated to Gavin.  Ed, Brian and I will be headed down there in early June to choose a guest room and a plaque for the door.  This is such an honor and it really rendered us speechless.

So many wonderful things have come out of this tragedy... showing all of us that there is beauty and lessons in even the worst experiences of our lives.  You just have to pay attention - they are there.

Enjoy your holiday weekend.  And if you haven't done your "random act of kindness" for my birthday project, perhaps you can thank a soldier this weekend.  I would love that.