Sunday, September 26, 2010

Sticks and Stones

I heard someone make a judgmental comment the other day and didn't think much of it. It was in character for them and I did what I could to dismiss it. It wasn't directed at me personally, but it very well could have been. The criticism was aimed at a "nameless and faceless" individual on TV who wouldn't hear the jeering comment or be shamed by the judgment that was being sentenced through the screen. But as I sat in silence, I painfully knew that person could very easily be me and I wondered if the same comments would have been said if was me.

It wasn't until I heard my 4 year old repeat the exact same expression the very next day that it broke my heart. She didn't know what she was saying, she was just repeating what she had heard. But this time, it hurt. She said it with the same attitude and belittling she had heard it said the day before. Again, it wasn't directed at me personally, but hearing that criticism and condescending attitude come from my sweet preschooler was heart breaking. I stopped in my tracks and tried to gently explain to her why what she said was not okay, how it hurts people's feelings when those things are said, and that compassion was a better choice instead of finger pointing. I tried to explain that the person who said it wasn't being nice, without making them out to be a bad person. But it made me so painfully aware how easily we pass on our values to our children and how easily they pick up on things. Now, granted, this little 4 year old has always been extremely perceptive and picked up on things way too quickly! But this incident made me want to be more careful of how I say things and be aware of how they may be perceived by 4 year old little ears and to encourage anyone who is around her, or any child for that matter, to be aware of what you say. Preschoolers don't get sarcasm and don't really have a sense of when something is a joke and when it's not or when something is appropriate to be repeated or not. If you wouldn't say something to someone's face, don't say it around a child....because they probably will.

"Stick and stones may break my bones....but words will break my heart." Choose your words wisely. Please.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I made it.

I wrote this on Labor Day and thought I'd come back and finish it when I was able to collect my thoughts better. Well, it's been over a week and they're no more collected than when I started writing so I'm just gonna hit publish and post the darn thing!!

I made it.

I made it through Labor Day Weekend.

Labor Day Weekend will always be Kristen's weekend to me. Sure there are her "dates" of Aug 29 & Sept 1. But I will always remember and refer to it as Labor Day weekend 2008.

We went to the hospital full of excitement and anticipation on Friday morning and we came home utterly devastated with empty arms Monday afternoon. Because it was a holiday weekend, our little corner of the NICU was pretty much all ours with only 1 or 2 visitors for other babies the whole time we were there. I was only in the same building as her (and coherent!) for about 20 hours of the precious 64 she was given, but I am so thankful I got what I did. I remember that weekend so vividly, yet sometimes it seems like it was all a bad dream. (I just re-read my blog post about that first and last morning with Kristen, ugh. more like a nightmare than a dream!)

But its hard to believe it's already been two years. I wonder if I am where I'm "supposed to be" by the two year mark. I'm reminded there is no timeline, although, our culture is really bad at showing it. Sometimes I'm glad that no one remembers her, or at least doesn't mention to me that they remember her, because it makes it easier for me when I want to pretend it never happened. There are days like that. When I feel like I have some "secret" about who I really am but I just want to be like all the other moms. But I'm not. I'm reminded that everytime I see a happy birth anouncement "baby and mom are doing great!" Although I am honestly and truly happy for them, I can't help but be a little jealous. No, a lot jealous. I'll never get the chance to send out that happy news.

So although there's no "timeline" I wonder where I'm supposed to be. I know of a few people that make huge deals out of their deceased baby's birthday. Nothing wrong with that. But I guess it's just not me. I wouldn't have anyone to make it a big deal with, I wouldn't want to make it weird for anyone I suppose. When I shared with my mom a few weeks before this weekend that I didn't know what or how I wanted to observe her birthday she said something along the lines of "well, you can always celebrate her in your heart." At first I wanted to roll my eyes and say "whatever!" but now that the weekend has passed, all I really did was remember her in my heart. Feels kinda lame, like I'm not doing justice to what she really means to me. But then I remember her every day in my own way and making a big deal out of it, well, I guess I worry it would weird people out. I know I shouldn't care what other people think, but I want to be normal, even though I know I'm not. Not in that way, anyway.

So, I made it. Even if "making it" meant ignoring it, hoping it wouldn't hurt, holding my breath for the significance of the weekend to go away, yet all the time wishing someone knew how important this weekend was to me. So now back to the business and distraction of every day life....and pretending to be normal.