Feeding the Elephant

QUICKIE: As we pulled away from the ferry dock on Saturday, Vincenzo kept freaking out that the DOCK was MOVING!!
I might actually write today’s blog from the heart instead of from the butt for once. I prefer funny writing but there’s this huge elephant in my bloggin’ closet that REALLY wants a peanut. (Totally unrelated to last week’s peanut blog.) So here. Here’s your peanut.

Not all of you know that last April I gave birth to a stillborn boy named Angelo David who died of a condition called Trisomy 13. We had known about it early on and were fortunate to do most of our mourning before Angelo’s birth so that we were able to just hold his sweet, peaceful body when he was born. The room was full of happiness and joy instead of fear and confusion.

Since Angelo’s birth I have actually been happier than I have in a long time. I think it’s mainly because I’m sick the entire 9 months of pregnancy, and just feeling good again makes me run back into the world with pigtails a-flappin’. But I have this whole set of worries now that never occurred to me to worry about before—and I’ve always been a worrier by nature. We are waiting for the green light to start trying again, and pregnancy is what I think about in between all the things I say or write aloud. Usually I feel it will be okay, but often I feel like I just don’t know. Being pregnant guarantees me nausea, heartburn, uncertainty, fear, and depression. What it does not guarantee me is a baby. Kevin and I have agreed that we can’t bury our heads in the sand, though, and while we don’t know what will happen next in our lives, we have to admit that we’ve never known what will happen next. Plus, so many other people’s stories end with, “and then we had 3 more healthy children.” I love those stories. (Kevin prefers the ones that end with 1 more healthy child).

Just today’s thoughts, and every day’s thoughts, for that matter. But I can’t leave you all misty-eyed, so here’s a related conversation I had with Vincenzo before bed last night. We had just prayed to Angelo to be with us over these next few months as we get ready for another pregnancy.

Me: Vincenzo, do you remember what I’m like when I’m pregnant?
V: No.
Me: What part of me will grow when I’m pregnant?
V: Your hair!
Me: Touché, smarty pants. But how do I look when I’m pregnant?
V: You look good, Mommy.

Let it be noted that my name is #1 on the list of people Vincenzo has won over by sweet talk. I am so totally in love with my son.

Junk food (Dad’s out so we’re partying!)

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