Pilgrimage

Today would have been my mother's 67th birthday. As I couldn't visit her grave - 900 km from where we live - I went on a little pilgrimage with hubby and kids in tow.

It was Valery, who asked in a comment one this post if there wasn't a special place nearby to remember her. I couldn't immediately think of anything, but I kept the comment in the back of my mind. Then a while ago I knew exactly what I wanted to do once my mom's birthday would come around: when I was pregnant with M. Sensible, my parents came over to visit and my mom asked me if I wanted to join her on a walk to the basilica, because she wanted to light a candle, to give thanks and ask for a blessing for this pregnancy. I happily obliged and we made a beautiful little pilgrimage together, first crossing the river to the old part of town, then climbing the hundreds of steps, up to the top of the hill where the basilica lies, overlooking the city.

Today, M. Sensible, our dapper 3.5 year old, walked those steps all by himself, holding his daddy's hand. M. Gourmand was on my back in the baby carrier, and my mother was there too, her spirit accompanying me to the top.

After the first long set of steps, we came across this writing on a wall. I thought it was quite fitting on a day like this.

English translation:
Don't ask anyone your way,
especially not those who know it.
You wouldn't be able to get lost anymore.

When we arrived at the basilica, mass was still in progress and it being Palm Sunday, the church was packed. We quietly stood in the back for a few minutes and then I lit a candle for my mum, before heading out again.

On the way back home (this time via public transport) we stopped by the bakery to buy a cake, which we'll eat later today.

The bracelet - the one she never got to meet

This is the fourth and last post about my mother's bracelet. You can find the other ones here, here and here.

Today we celebrate my youngest son's first birthday. He was born 14 months after my mother died, so she wasn't there anymore to see me pregnant for the second time, to hold her fourth grandchild in her arms, or to have his coin touch her arm on a daily basis. She did know, however, that we wanted to try for another child, and it was a thought that made her happy, even though she knew she would probably not meet that child (at least not in this life).

When gearing up for another round of IVF in our quest for baby #2, my mom's situation got a lot worse. Being in a different country and not able to see her every day, it was hard for me to know how bad it really was. So I started suppression. Just before I was to start stimulation I got a very emotional call from my parents. I knew she was doing a lot worse than before, but my dad said it was really really bad. They were still going on a river cruise organized for sick and disabled people, but, he told me, after that she wanted it to be over. I couldn't believe it, it was so hard. I didn't quite know what "she wants it to be over" would entail, but I knew it would not go hand in hand with our IVF schedule. I told my dad, I asked him if he thought she could hang in there a bit longer. He handed the phone to my mom. I explained my situation to her (it seems so selfish now), asked her if she thought she could wait. We were both crying. She answered that life had become so unbearably hard for her, she didn't think she could do it. I went into denial. Four days after starting stimming, when at my mom's side in Holland, I came to my senses and we canceled our cycle. Three days later my mom died.

We tried again a few months later. It was a BFN. I felt very down. But luckily we had one frozen embryo left from this cycle, with which we did a FET in early May 2011. And now our son is one year old.

I cannot share my son's milestones or funny things that happened with my mother anymore. But somehow I choose to believe that she knows him. As the months since her passing went by, I was looking for that bird, or ray of sunshine, or some other sign that would tell me my mom was somehow still there with me. But I had the feeling there was nothing. Until I realized that if there was somewhere I could find my mother's spirit, it was in my baby's eyes. This boy, so calm, so happy, has something of her in him (even though everyone keeps telling me he looks so much like his dad).

My dad decided to add a coin for him to the bracelet. It is complete now.

The bracelet - 39

After this post and this one, another (overdue) post about my mother's bracelet. It should have been posted exactly a month ago, on December 16, 2012 - the day I turned 39! I don't really have an excuse, I wasn't too much caught up in celebrations - hubby was away on business, so I was alone with the kids. Early in the morning it seemed that the oldest was getting a stomach flu, but the idea of baking a chocolate birthday cake with mommy was apparently the best remedy, because all of his symptoms were suddenly gone!

I was born during the oil crisis and the Dutch government had decided to hold a few "car free Sundays". My mom's labor started in the early hours of such a Sunday. Before they headed to the hospital my dad called the police to ask for a 'laissez passer', which he easily got. He later told me he had hoped for a police escort, haha!

I imagine my birth being the best early Christmas present my parents got. They now had two healthy girls. They were in a new city, no longer tied to the hospital (and the nasty OB/GYN) where she delivered her first two children. Of course her new OB was aware of her history and my mom told me once that he had come to her (I think just after she'd given birth to me) to tell her they were able to deliver a live baby after a woman had come in with the same issue my mom had had with her firstborn (abruptio placenta). What she must have gone through hearing that news, I have no idea. I guess it was a good thing she had a healthy newborn in her arms herself.

My mom with me, 2 or 3 days old.

This was my third birthday without my mom. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it.

The bracelet - three firstborns

As a follow-up of this post, I had planned to post this in July, but then so many things got in the way that it was never finished and kept in my drafts folder way too long.

July used to be a sad month for my mother, as it holds the day she gave birth to her firstborn, a stillborn son.

But then, 33 years later, my sister made it a bit brighter month, by giving birth to her firstborn, a healthy boy, on July 5th. My parents had planned to arrive in time for the birth (my sister lives in California, my parents in Holland), but as the boy decided to come earlier than the due date, they were too late. At the time I was still living in the US, so I flew to California to help out the first few days, until my parents arrived. We then spent some time all together (my husband also came over in the weekend), which was pretty special (and perhaps a bit overwhelming for my sister as well). My parents were as proud and happy as grandparents can be.

My nephew turned 10 this summer. We took him rock climbing as a birthday present when the whole family came to France in August.

Another seven years later (thank you IF...) another firstborn was expected. Mine. It would be my parents' third grandchild. My mother, always anxious the last few weeks before a due date, wanted to be around again, even though I thought we had agreed they would not come before the baby's arrival as per our wishes... But her restlessness was too strong, so they came on the due date itself, only the baby decided it would stay put for another 10 days... It caused a lot of stress, even anger on DH's part, that took a long time to settle. I wrote a little bit about it here. But there was a lot of joy too. His coin on the bracelet is bigger than that of the other grandchildren, because they jeweler didn't have the smaller size in stock at the time, but my mom told me he also deserved it, the much wanted child... This miracle boy turned three on July 6th, yes just one day after his cousin (and if you would keep the Pacific time zone, they were born on the same day). We celebrated it at the beach in Holland.

Before she died, my mom told me July had now turned from a dark to a happy month for her, celebrating the birthdays of her two grandsons.

The heart on the bracelet belongs to her own firstborn, my brother, born still on July 23rd. I wrote about it here. I wish I could have talked more about it with my mom, especially after I'd become a mother myself. After she died, my dad decided he wanted their son's name engraved on her tombstone as well - he was torn that he hadn't thought of it before she died, and he hadn't been able to share it with her. I don't think it matters, I think somehow she knows it anyway, and it feels good to see those two names together, engraved in the glass, especially now that my dad has a new partner and will most likely not be buried next to my mom when his time comes. It somehow feels she's less alone.

The bracelet

My mom used to wear this bracelet

First, there were only two 'coins' on it, one with my sister's name on the front and her birthday on the back, and one with my name and birthday. Then years later she added the heart to represent her stillborn son. When my nephew was born, he got a coin too, next to my sister's, and almost four years later one was added for my niece. The last one my mom added was for our first son.

When my mom died, we talked a bit about what to do with the bracelet. It had been such a part of her, that we briefly considered having her wear it and take it with her into the grave. But it had too much meaning to do so. Incorporating it into the gravestone was also discussed - but the chances that it would get stolen were too big, so we abandoned that as well. Until we came up with a better idea, my dad kept it safe.

My dad recently had a sixth coin with our second son's name and birthday added to the bracelet, and when we saw each other over Easter, he gave it to me and asked to alternate it with my sister.

I won't wear it because it's not my story that it represents, but my mom's. I liked the idea of exchanging it with my sister, but at first I didn't really know what to do with it, I didn't want it just sit in its box and being forgotten until I would hand it to her.

But now I think I know. Today is my sister's birthday. So this morning I opened the box, I took the bracelet in my hand and looked at that oldest coin, the one with my sister's name and birthday on it and thought what that birth (a healthy girl after stillbirth and miscarriage, born on a day people in Holland remember the death from WWII) and that girl has meant to my mother for all those years.

My mom and sister, on the beach in Holland, probably somewhere in the early 1990s

And it made me tear up, because I miss my mom so much.

Perfect day

Despite my sadness over the BFN, today I spent a perfect day with my son - we laughed, we played, we cuddled, we sang, and we rode our bike (he in his seat in front of me, babbling, pointing at things, sometimes looking up at me so I could plant a kiss on his face) along the river in the beautiful sunshine. I'm so glad I have him, my little miracle.

So this song is for him...

Update on resolutions

Well, about time for a bit more optimistic post since my last one which was pretty depressing. I'm doing a lot better now and as for the resolutions - I've got most of them covered.

Have been seeing a psychoanalyst for the past month and a half, it's interesting, to say the least. Baby has been taking the bottle for about the same time. Coincidence? Not really - a friend was babysitting when I went to see the therapist and she asked me if she should try to give my son the bottle - I said 'sure, good luck' and didn't believe she would manage - but she did - the next day he didn't want it from me, but two days later he accepted it from hubs and has been taking it ever since. What a relief! Still nursed evenings and mornings for a few weeks, until he refused to take the breast in the evening, than just early mornings, followed with a bottle including cereal around (our) breakfast time. But I haven't nursed the past three days because he woke up pretty late, so I guess the breastfeeding period will soon be completely over. Even though I wanted it, it's still kind of a weird feeling.

I've been taking yoga classes again as well - but only when hubby is not away on a business trip, don't find it important enough yet to get a babysitter for. Music is also on the program again - I can put my son in the playpen and play while facing him. The first time he looked quite startled, but now he just continues playing, and sometimes starts 'singing' along! I've also sent a message to my fellow musicians that I'm ready to take up the trio again, but haven't had a response back yet, hmm... maybe eight months was too long of a wait for them?

None of the daycare centers around the neighborhood had a free spot for my son (as the French system is all about equality, you can't just 'buy' a spot at a good center if you would have the money for it) but as of May I have a spot for 2.5 days a week with a nanny (at her home, with a maximum of four kids at a time) who also takes care of our neighbor's 2-year old girl. So that will be great, because I had a small work project for the past two weeks and it was nearly impossible to do - only time I could work was during naps, a little playtime and in the evenings. Took me a week longer than I had hoped.

New Year's Resolutions

So... 2010 is just around the corner. 2009 was definitely the most beautiful year of my life, with the birth of our long-awaited baby. But the first few months of motherhood have not always been easy - I'm exhausted, for lack of sleep and stress about all kinds of things - the baby, but also things that have been brewing for years and years, things that probably contributed to the diagnosis of unexplained infertility.

I want my life back. I feel like I've lost myself. I love caring for my baby, but I need my own things too - some people say "you have to do what's best for your baby", but I have to do what's best for my baby and me. This is difficult, because after having given up a career, having struggled with IF for years, resulting in some lack of self-esteem, I find it absolutely amazing that there is this little human being that needs me, for whom I'm the most important person in the world. So I think that leads to me having difficulty handing things over when it comes to my baby, and not being able to switch off, even when someone else is caring for him, or when he's sleeping.

So I've made some New Year's Resolutions to change this situation, hopefully I can stick to them:

1. Make appointment with therapist
2. Try to get baby to accept bottle so I will have more freedom (and can drink wine again!)
3. Take up yoga classes again
4. Start making music again (alone and with the trio that I've more or less abandoned)
5. Try to get a daycare spot for baby for a few (half) days a week (our first request was denied) so I can do #3, #4 and #6 more easily
6. Start own business / freelancing

#1 is pretty scary, but I know it's necessary to get out of the vicious circles I'm in - I had hoped I could just talk to hubby and friends/family, but hubby made it clear the other day that he's willing to support me in whatever I choose to do, but since I don't make choices/decisions, but just keep going around in circles (and get info left and right, but don't do anything with it, other than becoming even more insecure), he says he can't help me right now. That was hard to hear. But I guess he's right.

I don't want to sound so depressed (but hey, this blog is my place to vent!), especially since I know how many women are out there still struggling with IF. I have the baby I longed for - but that just doesn't solve all my problems and I want to be as happy again as the first few weeks after his birth. I know it's possible, but I also know I'm the only one who can do something about it.

So that's my wish for 2010 - that I'm strong enough to change things so I can fully enjoy the beautiful gifts of life again.