Tuesday, February 1, 2011


We're supposed to be getting the worst winter storm in, like, ever.  So we are hunkered down at home.

Right now it's just ice.  Enough ice that David didn't even go into to work today.  And if we really get the 10 inches of snow they're calling for today and tomorrow, he probably won't be going to work tomorrow either.

A blizzard warning?  Seriously?  I didn't think that you could have a blizzard south of Iowa.

Anyway, we're just hoping that we don't lose power.  I charged the Kindle yesterday just in case.

It has not escaped me that I would be way more worked up about the storm and the possibility of losing power if we had a newborn baby here.  If I let myself think too much about what I should be doing--what I would be doing if Eliza were here with us, my heart feels like it's being twisted and torn apart.  Still, I can't help but wish that I were worrying about her instead of stocking up on storm supplies in the way of wine and goat cheese and electronic book purchases.

Cooper is doing his part to try to make me feel better by parking his 35 pound butt on my lap anytime I sit down.  Subject for a future post:  Why anyone who is grieving should have a puggle.

Other things...

* Teaching is going pretty well.  My students are warming up to me.  In fact, one of them is lending me Dexter season 5, so yeah, he's probably getting an A (just kidding, letter grades not based on favoritism)

* We booked a trip to Florida over spring break.  I should be looking forward to it, but right now I'm completely understanding the ambivalence that a friend of mine expressed about her upcoming vacation.  Which is to say, I'm still going to be sad, so why does it matter if I'm here or in Florida or in Antarctica?

* David has started predicting my anxious questions that inevitably pop up around the time he's drifting off to sleep.  Last night I nudged him and said, "David?" and he replied, "Yes, I love you.  No we're not going to get divorced.  Yes, we're always going to miss her.  But we will be happy again someday."  So, yeah, that about covered it.

* Another e-mail went out to the parents at the learning center in an effort to make sure I could avoid explaining what happened.  It's hard enough to live with; I couldn't stand the idea of having to tell one more person about Eliza and then not cry and keep working.  So the e-mail went out and the next morning I got a reply from a father whose two daughters come to the center.  It was short and to the point.  He shared that he was sorry to hear about our baby and the same thing happened to his family just over twelve years ago.  He said that as someone who's been there, he can tell us it does get better with time.

* Cooper got furminated yesterday (the shedless treatment they do at Groomingdale's).  He smells good and my yoga pants aren't covered in puggle hair.  It's a doggy miracle.  Plus the groomer warmed my heart by telling me what a sweet dog Cooper is and how well-behaved he was for his bath and shedless treatment.

* We went out on Friday to celebrate a friend's birthday.  We weren't going to go and then we talked about it in therapy and decided to make a "game time" decision.  Well, Friday evening arrived and we felt ok and we knew our friends wanted us to be there so we decided to go.  And...  it was good.  I was glad we went.  In fact, I felt kind of bad for not giving my closest friends enough credit for their kindness and understanding.  And, more specifically, for not giving them enough credit for having the conversational skills to talk about things besides babies.  Turns out there are lots of other topics of conversation and we actually talked about some of those instead.  Who knew?  Unexpectedly, I bumped into a group of friends from the English department (who, bless them, always have something besides babies to talk about) at the same place and that was a nice surprise. 

* I can't believe it's February.  These last two months have been the longest of my life.  And yet I still experience this loss of Eliza with a kind of shock that is so immediate it's as though it just happened.  Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of defending my dissertation.  It feels like a lifetime ago.  This makes me feel so old.

And...  I think those are all my talking points.  Now we wait for the big snow. 


  1. Just when I think I can't find you any more wonderful than I already do, you write about your puggle getting fulminated at a salon called Groomingdales!!

    Ah, yes, the vacation dilemma. I can share this: I am settling into it. It is still so sad and I hate that we are here without him, but, it's warm and that does soothe my soul, even just a little, even temporarily, and it's a nice change of pace.

    Sending love and aloha to your blizzardy state. Brrr!

  2. I think wine and cheese are the perfect storm supplies. Imagine if the power went out and you were snowed in and you ran out of wine??? Now that would be a tragedy!! : )

  3. Your husband's pre-emptive answers bring a sad smile. I do that too. My DH has gone through various stages of indulgence and annoyance with the questions. Now he doesn't anticipate them like that, but... what you wrote, it sounds like what he says. My questions are slightly different these days, but they're pretty similar.

    And oh god, February. February hit me the same way last year, as I wrote about here (before I switched blogs). Different circumstances, but still - I can relate. I'm so sorry you're going through this, Brooke.

  4. I hope you stay warm and snuggly in the storm. I had to made an emergency run to Target for tortilla chips and marshmallows (I bought salsa and cocoa on a previous run), but now I'm just waiting for it to start snowing and blowing.

  5. I would eat that goat cheese like a pecan log, like a candy bar, like a carrot...you get the point. I just want the cheese.

    I cannot believe it's been a year since your defense...though, in some ways it feels like a lifetime. You were fake surprised. :)

    Love you. Escape the snow and come to Kentucky.

  6. Damn you autocorrect! Furminated not fulminated. What the hell is fulminated??

  7. Thanks for popping by my blog! I am so sorry about your baby girl Eliza. I never understand the sheer numbers as far as stillbirth goes. We were in St. Louis back in October because we had a memorial brick laid at the Angel of Hope. The park is so peaceful. Much love~