I love a good compliment, but I can't ever decide if I'm annoyed or relieved when people can't see how sad and fearful and full of grief I still am. I'm thankful, really, that I haven't outwardly become the monstrous Miss Havisham I thought I'd have to be, but it also doesn't seem right that the intensity with which I miss Eliza is somehow invisible.
We hadn't planned to go to my parents' for Easter, but after my previous visit got canceled due to Excessive Vomiting, we made a kind of last-minute decision to drive down. Four and a half hour car trips get increasingly less comfortable when you're carrying a baby on your bladder, so we figured that now was as good a time as any. We rolled into town for a quick weekend visit and hit all the local hot spots.
Local hot spots include the Thai Cabin 'n Grill, which is a restaurant that a guy opened in his garage in a subdivision just outside of town, that serves (you guessed it) Thai food and also other stuff. For example, the appetizer menu offers both spring rolls and chicken livers. The place was busy and our food was good, but the beer snobs (my dad and David) were disappointed in the selection (variations on Bud Light, and one Thai beer that my dad and David tried that David said reminded him of the beers we had in Korea--pale and watery).
Next hot spot: one of several hair and nail salons in town. My cousin and I got our pedicures at Kountry Style Salon. I did a double take at the decor when we first walked in.
|Maybe I should host a caption contest for this photo? Because I have no words.|
I saw my second grade teacher there (you never go to Wal-Mart without seeing at least one person you know). She gave me a big hug and congratulated me on the Deuce. Later, my mom told me that this teacher still substitutes at the building where my mom works (she retired a few years ago) and she asks about me a lot. I knew that this teacher was no stranger to grief, as her youngest son was killed by a drunk driver when he was a teenager. What I didn't know (until my mom mentioned it after we saw her at Wal-Mart) was that she had also lost a baby girl. She went on to have four boys, and then survived the death of another child.
I hear stories like that--or sometimes even think about the other bereaved parents I know and their stories--and I just wonder how anyone gets through it. I think that I can't imagine how you'd go on.
And even though I haven't ever forgotten about Eliza for a second, it's like it takes a minute to hit me all over again that this is MY story, too. That I'm living through it. That the sympathy and pain I feel for other people is what other people feel about me. And then my brain and heart feel like they are going to have some kind of simultaneous implosion and I need to just stop thinking and see what's in the DVR.
Easter was... meh. I missed Eliza, I wanted to be filling her Easter basket, I wanted to be taking countless pictures of her, I wanted to be taking her to church and showing her off in a darling Easter dress, I wanted everything to be different. I read on Keleen's blog that she's working with Plan B because that's the only one available, and even though I know that's true for us as well, I am still not entirely satisfied with Plan B. I can't exactly tell Plan B to suck it, though, and I know that will get increasingly complicated when the Deuce arrives because the Deuce IS Plan B, and that is super weird thing to say and the sort of thing that I would imagine no child would really want to hear from his or her parent (although, realistically speaking, I bet it's true for a lot of kids, one way or another). So anyway. We dealt with Plan B. We went to church, we walked the dogs. I even had my mom take a picture of David and me together outside in the front yard (although it was only because one of my aunts requested it). Cooper made me laugh with his antics when we let him off his leash at the park, and we realized just how blind Little Mac is as she walked through unfamiliar territory. Bless her little heart. Her birthday was Friday--she turned 12!.
My parents donated an Easter lily at church in memory of Eliza, and it filled up my heart to see her name in the program and I loved and hated it at the same time. I was so glad that they did that, but OBVIOUSLY I would so much have preferred that we had her there with us.
My grandparents came over for dinner on Saturday night, and my mom and I helped my Nana order some clothes online. Nana hates shopping, so she loved the idea but isn't quite computer savvy enough to do it on her own (she does check e-mail and play a mean game of solitaire on her computer, though). My youngest cousin is getting married and Nana has decided to get something new for Bekah's wedding, so I really hope that one of the outfits we chose will work. Nana is also going to make a quilt for the Deuce (she made two for Eliza... sigh) and I caved at a recent fabric store sale and bought material for it. We talked quilt patterns. The evening ended on a bit of a rough note when Nana and Little Mac got into a spat. They have what can only be described as a personality conflict, and there was some mutual antagonizing followed by aggressive barking and shouting. Meanwhile, Cooper snuggled up to my Papa and considers him a friend for life.
All in all, it was a good visit home. We always wish the drive was shorter, and I know that won't change when we're figuring out how to make the trip with two dogs and a baby (hopefully).
I took this pic mid-way through last week at 27 and 1/2 weeks. I love the way the dogs are both watching me.
|Once again in the horizontal stripes. Why, maternity designers? Why? Note the ceramic deer head on the wall--my version of Kountry Style.|
P.S. Isn't there some kind of app that automatically takes pictures from your phone and syncs them to your computer? Interwebz, do tell!