Your Mama Is Dead

Sonya's Birth Story

2010-01-03T18:49:26Z

Dear Mama,

It's been a while since I've written, so of course plenty has happened, but I'll stick to Sonya's birth story for right now.

Sonya's due date was 10 December, but back in October the doctors showed a concern for possible low amniotic fluid and I wasn't sure we'd even make it to your birthday. We *almost* made it to December. She was born 30 November at 5:05 p.m. That was at 38 1/2 weeks, which is a week longer than with Liam - all full term, so that's fine with me.

I woke up that morning and realized that I needed to start paying attention to these contractions. They stayed at about 8 minutes apart until 1 p.m. Then they got more intense. We got to the hospital at 2 p.m.

It was really interesting to me to notice the difference in labor, since last time I was induced. Nothing was less intense, however, this time I had space between contractions. With Liam, starting at 5 cm dilated I just had one LONG contraction - for an hour, until I delivered and pushing was brief and intense, too. With Sonya, the contractions were certainly no less intense, but I had time in between them to catch my breath. Even when I was pushing I had down time, which was very, very bizarre for me. It gave me time to think, which I wasn't particularly interested in, frankly. But, after 15 minutes of pushing, it was over. Now onto the hard part, you know, life.

And this will be my last birth story. We are done bringing humans into this world. Just in case you were wondering.

I've given you two grandchildren. Some would say, "One of each!" (why do people say that? I find that so repulsive.) Now it is up to your other children to give you more grandchildren.

Peace out!

Mara

The Wire

2009-11-11T16:20:02Z

Dear Mama,

So life has been busy since we found out my amniotic fluid was low and baby Sonya's growth slowed rather dramatically. Apparently, this is how my pregnancies go. My fluid got really low (or the doc who did the ultrasound was stingy), but someone suggested grapes and pears had helped them, so I thought, "what's the harm?" I ate 4 pounds of pears and 3 bags of grapes in a week (with some help). My fluid levels are back into the normal range. Are the pears and grapes what did it? Don't know - but I'm not going to mess around. And heck, I like pears and grapes! I may not want to eat them ever again after this, though!

I'm 36 weeks now. In two weeks is Thanksgiving. With Liam, at 38 weeks, you were already holding him. Today, Mark has the day off for Veteran's Day, so I think we're going to set up the crib and get some other stuff ready.

It's hard not to think of you often these days. To think about how much it meant to me to have you there with me when I delivered Liam. To think about how much you would love who Liam has become. To think about what you would have been busy knitting for baby Sonya. To think about how you and Papa would've come down to care for Liam together while Mark and I were in the hospital. To think about how your very existence was so reassuring to me.

Yesterday, I saw a couple in a bookstore. She had on a wool poncho and was talking on her cell. She sashayed her way over to her husband, twirled the phone toward him and sing-sang "there's someone on the phone who wants to talk to you!" with a certain sparkle in both her eye and her voice. I knew it was a grandchild. I winced. Visibly. And then I realized that if Mark and I both live to the point that we get to enjoy grandchildren together, part of me will feel guilty. Truly. But hey, we all know I'm getting way ahead of myself.

Mama, I'm sorry you had to go through parenthood without your mama, too. It's awful.

I love you and I miss you,
Mara

Mom

2009-10-22T16:10:24Z

Dear Mama,

This one is all your fault. Liam wants to call me 'Mom'. At 2 1/2. Seriously. And I just can't let him. That, of course, is the part that is your fault. Having brought me up with 'mom' as a taboo word, it completely goes against every fiber of my being to be called 'mom' myself.

I have no idea what brought this on. I've had discussions with him: "I know other kids may call their mothers "Mom", but not me." I've tried, "that's not my name." Mark backs me up - even if he doesn't understand it. I've tried ignoring him. I've even tried threatening him with a timeout.

The other day, he called me 'mom' and I said, "What have I said about that?"

His teary reply was, "Mommy, I want to call you 'Mom'." I gave him a hug and asked whether he could wait a few years?

He agreed.

What then? Have I laid you a thick enough guilt trip?

Love,

Mara

Birthday

2009-10-14T15:40:50Z

Dear Mama,

I'd just like you to know that I think reducing my fluid - rehashing everything I went through with Liam - is a bit extreme just to get a grandbaby born on your birthday. Really. I mean, I'll miss my baby shower if I have to deliver at 36 weeks! Last time I missed my hair appointment, and now my shower? Come on! Could you finagle things so that I could at least wait until the Monday after?

Thanks.

Love,

Mara

p.s. to the living: no scheduled induction as of yet, but my fluid levels are on the very low end. If they go any lower, I will be induced. I'm 32 weeks now.

New Name

2009-10-09T02:53:22Z

Dear Mama,

This is to inform you that your only grandson has changed his name. It is currently "Sucker Lollipop".

Please be advised.

Thank you.

Love,
Mara

Deodorant

2009-10-06T23:37:21Z

Dear Mama,

You once said putting deodorant on without showering first wasn't good. Do you remember the context? And, umm, not good in what way?

Just asking, 'cause, you know, as a young mother ... well, I don't necessarily get a shower in every day.

Thanks!
Love,
Mara

Home Repair

2009-09-19T15:53:06Z

Dear Mama,

Liam is busy being super cute lately. I am mostly enjoying what I see in him as he gets older - as opposed to being frustrated by the challenges. The other day, as we were waiting for Mark to get out of work, he argued with me that Mark was his husband, not mine. This morning, he found one of my silk scarves, put it on and proclaimed himself now a girl.

We are making progress on him sleeping in his own bed, too. Slowly, for sure, but I can't take him crying for an hour now any better than I could two years ago. There is an element of sadness to it for me, as I am essentially extracting myself from physically being present for him as he falls asleep. I don't rock him to sleep, I don't pat his back as he falls asleep - I simply sit next to his bed and sing to him. If he talks/sings/whines then I move to the chair in the opposite corner of the room. That currently is enough to generally keep him quiet, though he has started asking me to "be gentle on my back" - and when he asks for that, well, thus far I haven't been able to refuse. Regardless, he has started falling asleep much faster and that is reassuring. He still wakes up in the middle of the night, though less frequently, and occasionally he actually stays in his own bed all night. So we're getting there.

I'm not focusing on potty training at all anymore, as I've chosen bed issues as our focus for now. But yesterday he spontaneously asked to go to the bathroom - and did! We encourage that, of course, but there is no pushing on our part for now. There's time.

In buying this house, Mark and I knew we wanted to add a half bath. It's turning out to be a rather involved project. Yikes! I am trying to be calm about how much we are going to have to do to the house in order to add a freaking toilet, but I know it's the right thing to do, so I am trying really, really hard not to completely breakdown over the fact that we have to spend money on something other than groceries. Unfortunately, it is complicated enough that we really can't do it ourselves with any amount of confidence.

I've got the morning to myself today. Mark and Liam are over at the Baha'i Center for a meeting. I have a bridal shower to go to soon, so I stayed home. It's been very nice (and productive, of course! ha!). But it would've been even nicer to have had you here to share it with me. Thank you, Mama, for everything you gave me.

Love,
Mara

Camping and Preschool

2009-09-10T01:44:55Z

Dear Mama,

Labor Day weekend was a busy one for us. We had so much fun taking Liam on his first camping trip. Mark thinks it went 'remarkably well' for our first camping outing. Just between you and me, I know it was you and Papa raised us as campers ;-) It certainly didn't hurt that I had your old pickle barrels full of camping goodies to jog my memory on everything I needed to bring for a well-stocked kitchen, either. Thank you. I think the biggest thing we forgot was a lantern/candles. No biggie.

Liam had a blast, made new friends, loved the tent and absolutely reveled in helping with the fire. I'm glad we did it, though I imagine it'll be another two years before we do it again!

Camping: check. Now onto preschool. I know it's at least a year away, but I need to start learning about what's out there in order to even get into a preschool, let alone make an informed decision.

Holy cratcholie! Not only are there a ton of choices, but WOW! is it pricey! Why do I feel like I have to get a job just to pay for preschool? I'm talking several thousand dollars - and that's a 'moderately' priced preschool! I know the first couple of years of school are especially crucial to a boy and how he views and is viewed in school. I don't want to mess this up. But seriously? There's a part of me that is considering skipping preschool altogether. Let alone two years of it.

I didn't even know there were different types of preschools - play vs. learning schools. I sure as heck don't plan on shelling out that type of cash for a 'play' school. That is for certain. I can make sure he gets 'socialized' in other ways. But does he need that structure - do I need to pay out the nose - for him to learn his letters and numbers? Really? This stuff is mind-blowing.

Your daughter out in the cosmos,
Mara

The Void

2009-09-01T15:48:54Z

Dear Mama,
There's this void in me. I'm not sure how to explain it. I have no idea whether it is your lack of presence. I suspect that is only part of it. I feel like I keep trying to fill it - or perhaps cover it? - with something or someone, but nothing changes. It feels like there is part of me missing and I don't even know what part that is. Someone your age just made an entrepreneurial start and mentioned that it felt like everything she'd done in her life was leading up to this ... is this what I'm in search for? And I have to wait 20 years for it? Struggling to figure things out ... and, dare I say it without sounding completely morbid ... just to die?

What's particularly frustrating is that usually, I would pick up the phone and call you, or just come for a visit, have Papa play with Liam and sit down to a cup of tea with you in the living room. You'd ask the probing questions, discuss your own journey, offer your opinions of what my strengths and weaknesses are and then say something along the lines of, "you'll figure it out eventually" with a proud, slightly wry smile on your face, take another sip of your tea and suggest we go outside to join the boys.

On the other hand, I know you LOVED raising us. I know this. I know because you told me. And sometimes, I feel conflicted about the daily grind of childrearing. I know you didn't particularly relate. Which leaves me feeling inadequate. Again. So, do I just think I suck and need to get some self-esteem and patience with myself? What a rut.

Or is it all the pregnancy, and I should just have a cup of tea and not think too much about anything for, oh, another year?

Is this how you felt after your mother died? How ironic is it that my best resource on how to deal with a mother's death is the very reason I need this advice?

Well, I'm feeling the cosmic joke lineage, that's for sure. Have a chuckle on me.

Love,
Mara

First Letter

2009-08-29T21:00:43Z

Dear Mama,
I've been having an increasing number of "now-would-be-a-good-time-for-you-to-be-alive" moments. I've also got a lot on my mind now that I am pregnant again. I am feeling a growing sense of disconnection from the world. I am taking some pro-active steps, and this is one of them.
I will write to you as frequently as a pregnant woman with a two-year-old boy can manage.
Hopefully, I will occasionally even get an answer from someone out in the universe.

Here are some of my questions that brought me to this juncture:
1. How did you get us (particularly boys) potty trained?
2. How did you get us to sleep in our own beds all night long?
3. How did you stay SANE raising us? By this I mean, I feel like I have a brain and a contribution to make to society. I'm not even sure what that is, but I am feeling the need to make outreach attempts. Somehow. Even if it's not professional - like, volunteering or something. But, man! it is sooo hard to find balance and time away from family. It's like I'm creating this love/hate relationship with family - I've GOT to get away, but the best time to do it is when we could be spending really good time together. Huh.

So, there you have it. First letter.

I love you, Mama. Enjoy your garden.
Love,
Mara

Storytime

2009-08-15T18:53:54Z

We're in our new house now. We all love it. Liam will ask, "where's Daddy?" when he wakes up. Mark is often already up, in the bathroom, or whatever, so I ask him, "where is he?" His response, "in our new house."

I was telling him a story about a young girl, mentioned she was a 'big girl' and I asked Liam whether he was a big boy? His response: "girl, actually." Wow. I stand corrected. Now, before you go reassuring me that this is normal, let me reassure you, I know. I think Liam is hysterical. I am loving his pink princess style.

Word I most frequently hear Liam say in his sleep: Thanks. So sweet.

And now he is awake, so off I go.

Cherries at the Homestead

2009-06-26T21:45:38Z

Liam woke me up early this morning, 6 a.m. We had a simple breakfast of cantaloupe and blueberries. I had my mug of hot tea. I stripped him down to a diaper and put some junky clothes on myself. We each equipped ourselves with an appropriately sized bowl. My father got out a small bench. And we started picking sweet cherries. There's new growth on the sweet cherry tree. Liam can actually pick them just standing on the ground.

And the memories started - at the sweet cherry tree it was of my brothers maniacal will to pick more cherries. One year they put entire ladders on top of the picnic table. I was suddenly so alone, picking the cherries without my siblings. And with that realization I decided I had enough cherries, since I'd have to wash and pit them myself, too.

I went inside, started the water in the large basin of the sink and put the red strainer in the small side, placing the compost bucket off to the right for the pits and the bad cherries. As I plunged my hands into the water and grabbed the cherries, I thought of my mother, in her cherry-pitting dress, and those hands. Two years ago, Mark took pictures of her doing just this work, mostly her hands. She really did have such beautiful hands.

I looked up, out the little kitchen window. My father had one of the big white buckets and was washing my car. My little moosh was beside him, in just his diaper, trying to figure out what he was doing. Which took me back to the photos of my eldest brother at that age, helping my father clean the car. I dashed out with the camera - if any child of mine is going to be photographed, it's the eldest.

I looked back down at the cherries - I still have the sour cherries to pick and pit - and realized my hands were trembling. I best write this down and get it out of my head before it overwhelms my day.

Timeless

2009-06-23T02:50:08Z

Liam asked for my watch. I put it on his wrist. He proclaimed it to be nine o'clock and started walking out of the room. And then he said, "have to get ready to go!"

On My Mind

2009-06-07T10:44:11Z

Well, I'm frequently awake at about 2 or 3 a.m. these days, and script wonderful blog entries in my head instead of falling back asleep. Last night, I waxed poetic about my memories to 'Littlewoods', my mother's parents' property in Maryland. I do have wonderful memories of my 'PopPop', his home, and all the wonderful stuff we did while we were visiting down there as kids. One of my favorite memories is of my youngest brother, at the age of about 4, trying to get a lunch order out of our grandfather - who couldn't hear the higher pitch voice tones. "SALAMI, HAM OR CRAB" Mendon tried again. PopPop's response was to pat Mendon on the head and reply, "oh, yes." Mendon was soooo frustrated.

But anyway, I thought I'd share a few photos of Liam with you.

Oh, and if you don't know by now. I'm three months pregnant. And we're house hunting - in contract, in fact. It's all around Columbus, so not a big move. And Liam is having stents put in his tear ducts to open them up so that they drain properly. Not a big surgical procedure, but no fun all the same.

On to the photos. Or photo. Apparently, on this new version, I can only upload one photo at a time without it getting messy. So, here's Liam playing the piano with his cousin. And wearing his beloved wristbands.

On the Swings

2009-06-07T10:43:49Z

Here's Liam enjoying the swings with his friend, Toby. a.k.a. the Irish thug. :-)