One half year gone by

Yesterday was October 28th, the day my darling little Elena officially turned six months.  We celebrated on Tuesday with a fun party at Karinna's that included cake, goody bags and even three presents.  I made sure there was one present for Eliza, and her friends Lindsey and Julieann to open as baby Elena still hasn't quite mastered the skill of tearing open packages yet.  

Although Elena was oblivious to the gift-giving extravaganza, Eliza and her friends greatly enjoyed the gifts.  Eliza proudly showed anyone who walked into Karinna's house the cute little socks that look like ballet shoes.  "These are for ballet class," she said of the pink ones and "These are for leotard class" she said of the black ones.  Julieann, a first grader who recently mastered reading, was applauded for reading Elena's new book to her.  And the toy, a chomping alligator that scoots across the floor, was enjoyed by all of us.  Elena lay perched on her tummy, doing her little pushups, her head turning in confusion, every time the alligator chomped by.

Yesterday, the day of her actual birthday, Eliza and I celebrated with a pizza dinner and a group bath.  Yes, all three of us climbed into the bathtub and watched Elena kick and splash in the big bathtub for only the second time.  Her little legs are so chubby and short, it's so cute to watch her kick them in the water.  Eliza kept dumping water on her head but Elena never cried.  Nor did she laughed, she seemed focused and thoughtful about this new sensation of being immersed in a big tub of water.  

I am blessed a second time with a happy baby, the kind that makes me want to have 10 more.  Obviously, this is not only clinically impossible (I guess that's not exactly true in this day and age), but economically and emotionally impossible.  But having a baby is honestly the loveliest thing in the world to me.  I love her chubby legs, I love her soft, fine hair.  I love her giggles and her cries of delight and her look of wonder when she looks up at track lighting.  She is a miraclulous, pleasant, low-maintenance kind of girl who spends most of her time out in public smiling at everyone.  She has yet to experience any kind of stranger anxiety--when I hand her to some one else, she looks for me but seems content to be in whoever's arms.  She's not a good napper, spends most of the day fighting sleep and only succumbing for tiny, 20 minute naps.  She does sleep at night, so I keep my complaining about the day fussiness to a minimum.

"There's nothing quite like being a mother," my friend Meredith's mom once said to me.  It seems like such a simple statement but at the time and even now, it speaks volumes.  I love being a Mom more than anything else I've ever done.  Oh there are moments where I just don't think I have the strength to fight with Eliza to put on her tights or get the car seat buckled over her jacket or pay the bills that keep mounting up with very little money coming in.  But had I not had children, I would have missed out on the one great achievement that has easily given me the most happiness.

The Yummy Tummy

Having a baby is just about the loveliest thing in the world.  Oh sure, there's lots of poop and puke and waking up to a wet bed because my boobs have leaked all over the sheets.  But the flip side of the last mentioned annoyance is the boobs are leaking because my baby is sleeping for several hours in a row.

Elena is at a stage where she's an absolute joy right now.  Most of her waking moments are spent smiling, feeding and happily looking around the room at different colors and patterns.  She demands very little and other than turning onto her tummy and moving her arms and legs, she's pretty stationary.  I don't have to worry about her getting into everything.  I don't have to worry about her sticking small objects in her mouth because as yet, she can't get to them on her own.  Instead, I simply get to lay her on her playmat and watch her smile at herself in the mirror while I type.  Yes, that's what I'm doing right now.  

She's got short, chunky legs that remind of of drumsticks.  Her butt is cushy and fun to squeeze.  Her tummy is surprisingly flat, but no less fun to kiss over and over and over again.  She squeals and makes screechy, giggley noises when I kiss her tummy.  

Next week, she will be five months old and I'll be officially reminded of how fast her babyhood is flying.  But for now, I have this post to remind me of the lovely days of relative peace, of the simple joy of a contented baby who enjoys a little music, a little mirror and the wet pleasure of her right thumb.

Baby Elena

And here's another photo of my darling baby Elena.  She has dimples!  It's so cute!  The top photo was taken by Eliza--do I have a budding photographer in my midst?

New World

If you're still reading, and I hope you are, I haven't died or fallen off the face of the earth.  There's been a lot of changes and taking care of two kids on my own is very time consuming but the main reason I haven't written is due to lack of internet access.  I'm currently writing today from the local library on a rare weekday that C came to NJ to visit the girls.  Usually he comes on Sunday, a day that the library is closed.  

It's been a lovely, though difficult and emotional summer.  I am sorry to see the summer end, seemingly just as it was revving up.  We had some wonderful days and some awful days.  I tried to do too much--I didn't do enough.  My girls are wonderful--being a mother is wonderful.  My girls can't stop crying, I can't stop yelling, being a mother is horrible.  I am tryng to learn to forgive my shortcomings but everything seems to make me feel like a loser these days.  Seeing photos of Kim Clysters after her big win at the US Open Tennis tournament fills me with sadness.  Looking at her clutching her darling toddler on the tennis court after such a big win makes me wonder why my daughter's mother has accomplished so little.  

But I'm 42 and there's still time, hopefully.  This summer, a friend I really cared for died suddenly of a heart attack.  He was only 38 and one of the best people I know.  I am still reeling from the news of his death on August 2nd.  He was the first person I truly cared about that died young and suddenly.  It is so tragic, I can barely think of it without crying.

Elena is four-and-a-half months.  She is a wonderful baby, either sleeping or laughing and smiling. She started night waking this past week and is more tired and grumpier than usual but still, life with her is a wonderful joy.  I am very blessed.  

I'm leaving you with a photo of my two girls with their older half-siblings.  I will rarely see the other two kids now that I've made the break from their father but they will always have a piece of my heart.  

Elena at two months

Elena's two month party passed with little fanfare.  I took her up to New York to continue packing and was too busy with the awful process that is moving there was little time to celebrate.  I did take her to a party to say good-bye to my great friends Peter and Meredith who are on the road to their new life in Virginia today.  She spent the entire party crying.  Too much noise and too many faces gaping at her.

I spent the night in my old apartment with C in the bedroom, me on the fold-out couch with Elena and Eliza in her old bedroom.  Eliza was ecstatic to wake up to find me there and I felt bad that it would be the last morning she would wake up to both of us but I had to leave C, I  had no choice and being around him is still very painful.

The move to our new apartment in New Jersey, just a half hour from my mother and very close to the beach, is set to happen on Wednesday, July 8th.  Moving is dreadful and expensive.  On top of he expense of hiring movers to haul the stuff 70 miles, I was shocked to find my building in New York demands a $1,000 move out deposit.  They return $650.00 to you if nothing in the elevator is damaged and pocket $350.00.  It's the kind of reality that makes me very happy to leave New York City.  With only one elevator and a doorman, it's impossible to move out on the sly so this is another $1,000 that I've had to cough up at the most expensive time in my life.

Yes, with a new, probably too expensive (but it's beautiful and my girls will love it!) home, having to buy a car and the move itself, I could go on and on about how broke I'll be which is really terrifying in this economy.  But I'm forcing myself to accentuate the positive--I am starting a new life in a new place with my two beautiful new girls.  

We've had so many good time (and a few bad ones, I'll confess) in this past month.  There was the day went to an animal farm and Elena slept the whole time in the Bjorn while Eliza happily fed the animals.  Or the day my mother watched the baby while I took Eliza to the beach and we jumped in the waves and built sand castles.  Or the nights at the local Ihop on "character night" while I watch Eliza make new friends with the children who've shown up  to gape over some guy in a Mickey Mouse suit.  Eliza has flourished at K's daycare next door, really making friends among this group of lovely young children who come from different parts of Ocean County to spend their days guided by Karinna.  

One night that stands out particularly in my mind is a rainy evening on a ride back from New York with both girls.  It started pounding rain as soon as we got in the car and Elena was screaming in hunger.  Spying a strip mall parking lot, I pulled over, parked and got Elena out of the car seat while the sky dumped buckets of rain on my back.  Squeezing into the passenger seat with her draped on my lap, I reached back to hold hands with Eliza with my free hand.  Rain pummeled the windows of the car while Eliza screeched "too noisy."  I had one baby on my lap, one little girl on the back seat while the rain sheeted the windshield and thought all was right with the world.  

I miss New York City and the life I had there.  I miss my friends and the long walks we'd take.  I've remembered a lot of the good times with C and I've missed them too.  I'm grateful that I can remember the good times.  I've got a tough road ahead of me, caring for two young children on my own.  I don't know what the future holds but I'm trying to stay optimistic.  Right now, the biggest hurdles are packing through this long weekend while C enjoys a beach weekend with Eliza (you bet I'm jealous and will miss her like crazy the four days that she's gone), the move and then unpacking and furnishing the place with very little money.  

But then once it's done, there's my new life in a beautiful apartment (I better enjoy, I'll probably only be able to afford it for one year), a park and the beach within walking distance, and the summer ahead.  And best of all, I'll get to wake up every morning that C doesn't have the kids, in my own home with my own girls, and start the day.

Just a Happy Day

We celebrated the occasion of my second daughter turning one month old with a fun party at Karinna's yesterday.  The party was mainly for my older girl (as well as myself) as my younger girl did her part by sleeping through the entire party.  Eliza loved the party and I loved an occasion to celebrate during a rainy, kind of tough couple of months.  In many ways I felt reborn.  

It was a day to celebrate my daughter's passage from newborn into infancy.  I also celebrated my new life as a single parent, my metamorphosis from mother of one to mother of two, and the simple joy of knowing, this time I won't be raising a baby in an abusive relationship.  

It was a simple party but Eliza still insisted on heading to Karinna's in her best party dress.  Karinna, by the way, is my mother's next door neighbor who runs a day-care center out of her home.  Eliza has been playing with Karinna's "kids" since birth and loves going there to play with her friends.  I loved having an excuse to throw Eliza's friends a party.

I showed up with balloons and goody bags for everyone, funny party hats and a cake that looked like an oversized cupcake.  Eliza loved it all; the Strawberry Shortcake hats that one of the kids accurately likened to a nurse's hat, the pink maracas in the goody bags and the chance to blow out "the fire" on some one else's birthday cake.  It has been a tough time for Eliza and I was overjoyed to see her running through Karinna's spotless white kitchen with her head thrown back in laughter.  She not only enjoyed the celebration, she loved showing off her little sister to her friends.  She's so proud of being a big sister, it's intoxicating.  

Elena is a pretty good baby though she still has her nights and days confused.  I can't help but compare the differences between her and her sister.  She's a fussier baby then Eliza was but she's still pretty placid.  As the weeks have gone on, she's definitely showcased more of a temper and an opinion than the sleepy newborn who slept through most nights at the hospital.  She seems less decisive than Eliza, with weak cries that aren't quickly silenced by being picked up or fed.  While Eliza screamed until she got what she wanted, Elena cries meekly while I try a variety of different soothers from picking her up to singing to nursing as if to say "I'm not quite sure what I want but I want something."  It seems usually what she wants is to be held.  I try to fill that need as best I can but I'll be honest, it's harder with two.  I guess that's why they say the second kid is always less needy than the first.  They get used to not getting what they want on a daily basis.  

As my incision heals, I've been able to be more of a physical mother to Eliza.  I can play with her more and have her on my lap again.  Pretty soon I'll be able to run with her though I realize it's never going to be like it once was.  I'm not going to be able to run that fast with a baby strapped to my chest.  

I will always remember the morning of April 27th.  Eliza's waking up ritual has evolved over the past few months.  Back in the apartment I abandoned in New York City, Eliza would leave her room and climb into bed to cuddle with me every morning.  Here at my mother's, she'd wake up and call for me until I came into her room.  Closer towards the end of my pregnancy, she'd stand at the bottom of the steps to my bedroom calling my name.  

On the morning of April 27th, I went down the steps towards her knowing this would be the last morning of this particular ritual.  C was arriving that day for my scheduled C-section the following day and I thought he'd probably go to her first thing in the morning.  As we embraced that morning, I was very aware that by the next day, everything would be different.  What I didn't know was that my water would break later that day and that I wouldn't even see Eliza the following morning.  

When talking about beating stress, specialists often suggest closing your eyes and going to that special place and now my special place is reserved just for Eliza and me on that morning of April 27th.  All I have to do is close my eyes and it will forever be that day with her at age 3 1/2 and me, still relatively young at 41.  I hear her voice say "Mama" and open the door to reveal her at the bottom of the steps with her arms outstretched.  I waddle down the steps with my very pregnant belly and feel her little arms wrap around me and I know, this is it, this is the last time it will be just the two of us.

Missing Eliza

I miss my big girl.  She's spending the weekend with her father and I miss her like crazy.  Initially, he expected to have her back around 1pm tomorrow, now she probably won't return until 3pm.  It's only two hours difference but I'm so anxious for her to return.  This is what it's like to be separated--weekends without my wonderful daughter.

I'm enjoying my newborn and I have to admit, I managed to get extra sleep today.  But my mother's house is so quiet without my darling Eliza.  

Even before C took her, I've been missing my girl like crazy.  Missing the relationship we used to have that's now forever changed by the presence of this other person.  I love my young daughter Elena, but I miss the things I used to do with Eliza.  I can't do many things now because I'm still recovering from surgery.  But things are not going to be what they were and I've never been one to like change.  

Eliza is so proud of being a big sister and she seems to love the baby, but I feel like I spend the majority of most days reminding Eliza to be careful with the baby, with my boo boo, with my mother.  I dump her off at day care next door every day, desperate to get home and have a nap.  Because Elena refuses to sleep in her bassinet, she spends most nights in bed with me.  Since Eliza hates to come upstairs and find the baby in bed with me, now when I hear Eliza run towards the steps in the morning, I dump Elena in the bassinet like a philandering boyfriend caught in a rest stop bathroom.  

I am so jealous of all that C can do with Eliza at the moment: pick her up, carry her around, encourage her to jump into his arms, and spend an entire weekend showering her with undivided attention.  When I called her tonight, she barely spoke to me she was having such a breathlessly fun time with her father.  You bet I'm jealous even though I don't envy C at all.  C plays with Eliza for hours--using dolls as puppets, hovering under umbrellas in Eliza's bedroom pretending there's a rainstorm.  He is the perfect playmate for her--he never tires of playing with toys and slipping into the world of his imagination.  I suppose this is why he and I could never make it as a couple--C doesn't live in the adult world.  

While others might envy his ability to play with Eliza for hours, I find it rather destructive.  She orders him around and enjoys his complete dissolution into a make-believe world.  When she plays with other children her own age, she doesn't like that they don't take orders from her.  Last week, I watched him crawl around on all-fours pretending to be a horse.  Whenever he tried to sit up, she'd scream, like a brat frankly, "Get back down on the floor, horsey!"  While I took some satisfaction in watching him submissively creep around like a begging animal, I didn't like the message that his taking orders sent to our daughter.  Tonight, when he spoke to me briefly about their return tomorrow, she screamed "Get off the phone right now."  This is not how I want my daughter to act.  Talking is useless--C will forever be competing with me for her affections.

I tell myself when she gets home tomorrow and isn't that thrilled to see me after a weekend with her favorite playmate, that's okay, I'll be thrilled to see her.  That's what matters in the end, how I feel about her.

But I miss my girl, really miss my girl and the relationship we had that's not necessarily worse, yet different now.

I hate C-sections

Thank you, Doctor Morgan for cutting me open two weeks ago after telling me my labor wasn't progressing on schedule.  I suppose some C-sections are actually necessary and life-saving but many of them aren't.  I'm not sure, Dr. Morgan, which category I fall into but I hate walking around feeling like my guts are about to spill out.

Thank you for making me thoroughly afraid of my wonderful but scarily energetic three-year-old.  Whenever she runs towards me I suck in my breath in terror.  She understands that Mama has a big boo boo where they had to cut into her tummy to take out baby sister.  Often she asks me if she's going to put me back in the hospital.  This morning when I was throwing a bit of a tantrum because I was experiencing new abdominal pain, Eliza curled up on the floor crying "Mama's never going to get better."

Thank you Drs, for encouraging C-sections so you can adhere to some kind of schedule.  I feel like less of a mother because I can't have my Eliza sit on my lap or help her get into the bathtub.  I am in a bit of an extreme situation here, having just left C and being holed up with a mother who is also recovering from surgery.  But with this new pain, I'm so terrified I will be unable to take care of my girls.  It's been less than two weeks and I know it takes time but the pain and my fear of becoming more incapacitated are starting to take over.  With every new ache, I wonder "Am I going to heal?"

My friend had a home birth for her second child.  I'm just too afraid of medical problems to go that route but she had the vaginal birth that she wanted.  The pain during labor was horrific she said, but her recovery was over within 24 hours.  As I toiled in labor that night alone in the hospital while C slept on the fold-out beside me, I was screaming for a C-section so in the end I suppose I got what I asked for.  But if my water hadn't broken, settling me into the hospital before the contractions started, maybe my labor would have progressed normally.  Once you go to the hospital, you're in a bed hooked up to monitors and IVs.  When the back labor really hit, I know I would have been able to endure the pain better if I could have gotten down on all fours but I was strapped to machinery, lying on my side, feeling Elena's head pound against my tailbone.

So thanks those of you in the medical community who've turned child birth into something that must be monitored, carried through in a scheduled fashion (you must dilate one centimeter per hour, at least), and controlled by the evil that is pitocin.  Thank you for scaring me to death as I wait for my body to heal and the day when I can allow my lovely little Eliza to jump into my arms.

I only hope she hasn't outgrown me by then.

Welcome to the World, Elena Michelle

My water broke around 7pm the night of Monday, April 27th, a little less than 24 hours before my scheduled C-section date.  The temperature hovered at 90 degrees.  We were about to take Eliza to a playground along the bay.  

Since my water broke, I decided to brave it out and go for the real labor and vaginal delivery I wanted.  I braved about five hours of intense contractions that came in one-to-two minute intervals from the hours of approximately 1-4am on the morning of April 28th but I stalled at five centimeters.  

So Elena Michelle, all seven pounds, ten ounces of her, entered the world rather quietly via C-section at 10:22am on April 28th.  Last year on April 28th, I landed in Israel with Eliza to see my best friend's eldest son Bar Mitzvahed.  April 28, 2009 happened to be his 14th birthday.  

I feel a little split in half from the surgery, but life as a single mom (with help from my own recovering Mother) is going okay so far.  I've only been home from the hospital for one full day, so it's early yet.  

I wasn't sure I'd love the baby, my feelings for Eliza re so intense.  It's funny how fast you fall in love with that little football, the minute they slide the baby in your arms.

Love of my life

It's almost time to share myself with another kid and I still can't imagine loving another child the way I love this one.  I picked her up from playgroup and she saw that I'd done her laundry, ran to me, threw her arms around me and said "Thank you for washing my clothes."  There's so many ways to love a child, especially this child.  My biggest fear is leaving to go to the hospital, something happens and I never come home to this wonderful, amazing, delicious child I feel I can't possibly live without.  

Nutstime

I'm starting to go a little crazy. It's culture shock living with my mother. So much time is sucked by small errands because I have to drive everywhere and everything is in different directions. I had to pick up a prescription for Eliza today and from start to finish, that was a disaster. I made the mistake of saying I'd had a prescription filled for her at that Walgreen's before (the truth) and they went crazy trying to find her in the computer. I had the insurance card, we could have started from scratch but apparently if they had her name misspelled in the system this is a big deal so the woman spent a ridiculous amount of time trying different name variations, all to no avail.

After waiting for 45 minutes, I was told I had a $50 copay which caused me to flip out. C's insurance sucks, this isn't the first time I've had to pony up a big copayment for Eliza's prescriptions but usually they explain in advance this is the case. The prescription was for a nasal steriod and Eliza didn't exactly cooperate (as I suspected) when I tried to use it on her so I wasted $50 bucks. I'm hugely pregnant, unable to work, have absolutely no money coming in (you don't expect C to pony up a dime, do you?) so $50 bucks is kind of a big deal to me now. I'm shelling out big copayments on this pregnancy, all of it coming out of the savings I need to get my own apartment.

C is also stepping up the badgering and whining. Again he proposed taking Eliza back to New York for the weekend so he can take her to Harry's baseball games. I really want to do what's best for Eliza, believe me if I could do what I wanted, I wouldn't even answer the phone when he calls but I respect that he's her father and that she loves him and needs him. But I honestly don't think she needs to be shuttled back and forth between New York and here right now, especially with me this close to giving birth and her still adjusting to the change. If C were to say "I miss my daughter so much and need to spend time with her" I could sympathize more but it's all about him having a date for his son's baseball games. I am not hearing a father who is looking out for his daughter's best interests--I am hearing some one who wants to see his daughter in a way that's most convenient to him.

This is life with C and like it or not I'm stuck with him. But so far, each time he's offered to take Eliza for the weekend it's always with vague plans as to when they'll return. I know once we do start the back and forth, he will have no respect for returning her at the time we agree on, in fact he won't even want to discuss a time, feeling that as her father he can bring her back whenever and wherever he wants. He and his ex-wife do things this way and it's a disgrace. They always communicated through the kids--C would ask the kids what day and approximately what time their mother would drop them off. I've seen first hand how this kind of arrangement affected the kids and I would never do it to my own but C figures it works for him, he doesn't care if it works for me or for Eliza for that matter.

He's planning to come here this weekend to stay indefinitely until the birth and I don't want him around at all. He'll take Eliza out as he pleases, do what he wants without even telling me where they're going because I left him, I didn't ask his permission to do that so he can do whatever he wants. While I recognize that I was stupid enough to get myself pregnant again by this guy and I'm trying to do right by my kids and him by allowing him to be here for the birth, I need some space and some distance from him. I've been through a lot these past few weeks with my mother's brain tumor, living in limbo, trying to set up for the baby while I ease the transition to this new life for my daughter. I have walked out of my life in New York, the place I called home for the past 15 years. While I want my daughters to have a father in their lives and I know they need to see him, I need space.

But as always, my feelings and needs don't matter to him. He doesn't care that I left, he's only unhappy that his daughter will no longer live with him full-time. While I've known for a long time he has no feelings for me, and that's really okay, the end of relationship is still difficult and I wish he could give me the space I need to mourn.

But I'm rambling here and that's not necessary. I know in the end I will do right by my daughters and that I'll get through this time. And I hope so much that my girls will realize one day what I've done for them and appreciate me, if just a little.

Homeless

It's been almost a month since I've written. I'm still pregnant though I was in the hospital Monday night because I thought my water was leaking. The membranes turned out to still be intact so now I'm still pregnant and waiting. I'm having a little bit of that contraction feeling tonight, but not close enough together to monitor and the contractions are very minor.

Eliza and I left New York on April 9th and have not been back. We've been holed up at my mother's since then. It has not been easy but I'm managing the best I can. I'm getting used to driving all the time though I can't say I enjoy it, especially with all the rain we've had lately. I keep thinking about my nice, comfy rain boots back at the Manhattan apartment I fled with what my 66-year-old father could carry.

My computer is still not rigged to the internet and my mother's computer (the one I'm typing on now) makes a turtle race feel like a speed show. I feel cut off from my friends but I felt that way before I came here, cut off by the strain of being pregnant and living in a city where it's hard to get around with a big belly and a three-year-old in tow.

Eliza settled into here wonderfully at first but now she's got questions and she's starting to showcase some unhappiness at the situation. At first when I told her we were staying at Grandma's until after the baby was born, she was thrilled. Now she's asking to go home to East 22nd Street. She doesn't ask often, in fact maybe she's asked three or four times since we've been here but it's enough to rattle me with guilt.

C came here to see her over the weekend and it went fairly well. At first, he asked if he could pick her up on Thursday, bring her back to New York and then return her Tuesday or Wednesday. I vetoed that, saying that she needs to be settled in here. We hadn't even discussed the separation at that point. We discussed it a little this weekend and he agreed the relationship is over. We will be fighting over visitation issues in the future but for now he's not disagreeing with me. I explained to him that I'm not going to never let Eliza stay with him in New York, but for now I want to establish that her home base is here, with me.

It will be tough as C doesn't think anything of moving her back and forth between two homes, something I absolutely don't think we should do to a three-year-old. I would prefer something along the lines of her staying with him maybe one night a month while he visits her here on other weekends. I don't think he'll ever agree to this situation and he'll use his other two kids as bargaining chips. I want Eliza to see her siblings and I understand that they have busy lives that would interfere with their coming here regularly. However, even when we all lived in New York together, Eliza didn't see much of her siblings. As Katie's a junior in High School, we saw her on average, about twice a month for about an hour or less. Harry's in sixth grade and also gravitating more towards friends and after school activities.

But all of that is on hold for now as we wait for the baby. Eliza is very excited about having a little sister. And I'm trying to enjoy this time with my one and only girl. We've had some rough times. One afternoon in particular stands out as one of the tougher moments I've had as a mother.

I woke Eliza from a nap and she wouldn't stop crying. She was tired and not feeling well but nothing I did seemed to calm her or stop her crying. I can only handle so much crying, so after about 25 minutes or so, I left her in her room and closed the door to tend to dinner prep with the sobbing slightly muffled. When I opened the door a few minutes later to again try to comfort my girl, she informed me that she'd had "an accident" on the couch in her room.

Rage surged so quickly through me, it almost felt like my forehead was on fire. Eliza was so close to the bathroom and yet she didn't even try to make it there, I'm pretty sure, out of spite. Having left my comfy nursing glider back in my old apartment in New York, I planned to nurse the baby on this couch. It's one of the only comfortable places to sit in my mother's house. The couch was drenched, like Eliza had saved an entire afternoon's worth of pee just to piss me off, pardon the pun.

I yelled at her, explained that the couch would have to be thrown away now (the material is beginning to fray and I didn't think it would survive scrubbing) and that I'd have no place to nurse baby sister. I nudged her towards the bathroom and stripped her. She sat naked on the floor crying for a few minutes and I yelled at her to stop crying. Red faced and naked, she crouched on the floor and struggled to hold back her tears. Angrily, I turned the water on.

She climbed into the tub and I remembered a day when my father said "There will be times when you hate her." Eliza was about eight months old at the time, I can still see her asleep in her stroller wearing this little red cheerleading outfit. I looked at her and couldn't imagine ever hating her. As I looked at slim body standing in the tub, still heaving from the held-in sobs, I still thought hate was a strong word but I didn't feel like I loved her either. I didn't feel like being a mother anymore. Here I was, homeless, single, worried like crazy about money, trying to care for her, a recovering mother, while I waited to give birth to yet another child. I didn't want to do it anymore. I didn't want to be the only person bathing Eliza, grocery shopping, cooking and cleaning for her, myself and my mother. Driving to the pharmacy to pick up my mother's prescriptions, running to the post office to send off mom's income tax, trying to make space for myself and my new baby in a house that my mother has packed to the gills.

I squeezed soap onto my hands and Eliza obediently stood still as I gently scrubbed her leg. And in that little gesture, I fell in love with my daughter all over again. I washed her other leg and slowly cleaned her dirty bottom, her back, her lovely little tummy. I marveled at how wonderful her body is, how I created it inside my own body, how this little creature is the best thing I've ever done.

I started to sing a song I made up for her, one that says "I love my little girl, she is my whole wide world. I love my little girl called Eliza." She turned towards me and smiled with a look of such love and such innocence, I can't begin to describe it.

Tonight at dinner, Eliza curled up next to me and said "I love this dinner. Thank you for making me such a wonderful dinner." How many three-year-olds say that to their mothers. This isn't the first time she's said something like this. I used to say to her "Thank you for having dinner with me." Maybe that's where she gets it from, I don't know. All I know is I'm lucky, so, so, so lucky that this child is somehow mine.

And this next kid, she's got some big shoes to fill.

Almost Spring

So much has happened in this past month of March.  While visiting my mother at the rehab center, I watched my mother during her speech therapy.  In case you've not read for a while, if ever, My mother had surgery to remove a benign brain tumor on March 5th.  Her recovery has gone surprisingly well and the whole experience has moved me and changed me in ways I find difficult to describe.  I am so freakin proud of my mother for how well she has come through this.  She has worked very hard at the rehab center to relearn how to walk and to improve her speech.  There's still a long road ahead of her but watching her march through the working room last week with such fortitude and determination was like watching Eliza walk for the first time.  I was so proud and so happy to watch my mother fight to regain herself and continue living, for me, for my brother, to see her new grandchild who is due April 30th.

I have not been happy about this pregnancy but now that's going to change.  I am finally ready to look forward to welcoming this new life into the world.  With everything that's going on in my mother's life, I'm going to have the baby in New Jersey.  Although my Mom's prognosis is great, I don't want her completely alone the first month she's released.  I'm probably looking at recovery from a 2nd C-section so I wouldn't be able to make the trip from New York to New Jersey after the baby is born.  My mother won't have clearance to drive for some time.  Having the baby in New Jersey also solves the "what to do with Eliza when I go to the hospital" dilemma.  Though we have friends in New York, if my labor comes on suddenly, we'd be in a bind.  A friend could get here quickly to be with Eliza but he or she wouldn't be able to stay indefinitely (this little thing called a job).  

At my mother's, we have my father and his wife 15 minutes away, a wonderful neighbor who runs a day-care center out of her home and Eliza's Godmother about a half-hour's drive away.  Here in New York, even my wonderful babysitter is practically a two hour commute away.  The city might be small geographically but factor in traffic and often lame public transportation and we've got a bit of a problem.  

So now that I've found a doctor in Jersey and I've mentally solved that little problem, I can set about to setting up the room for the new baby.  Things are going to be tough over the next couple of months with C.  But aren't they always and this time, I know with everything in me I am doing the right thing.  I can't let fear of the unknown stop me from doing what I must do.  It's so sad to be unhappy about an unplanned pregnancy because I am so unhappy with that baby's father. 

In just the past few weeks, C has discovered what a wonderful, exciting little daughter he has.  He's always loved her but he preferred the company of his other two kids because they're older, can go to the movies or on bike rides.  Now that Eliza's 3 1/2, she can do more and be more to him.  I also have to say his two other kids have moved on from spending their weekends going to the movies and playing basketball with their father.  Their recent absence has made it possible for him to discover his second daughter.  So Eliza has gotten used to seeing her father more regularly but this is not something I can worry about at the moment.  The time to separate has arrived and it's going to be tough on Eliza to be apart from her father, if even briefly, but I think it would be much tougher for her to be apart from me.  I'm choosing the lesser of two evils here.  

Spring is almost here.  I dreaded the thought of spring at the start of my pregnancy.  Spring meant I'd be taking care of two little ones and how exactly did I plan to do that?  When I first told Eliza about the upcoming "arrival" I'd say, "baby sister won't be here until the spring."

Now I say, "It's almost spring, Eliza.  Do you know what happens in the spring?"  

Eliza's eyes widen and she grins, then says "It's almost time for baby sister to come out."

And it feels so good to finally, finally rejoice with her.

A week on a Blackberry

Here's some of the correspondence from my Blackberry last week.  This thing really came in handy though I had to call Verizon twice last week because the web and email weren't working.  Some of the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

MONDAY

FROM DAVID (friend who moved to Israel in 2007): Hey Darlin', 

I'm so sorry to hear about your Mom.  I absolutely will keep her in my prayers.  Fran rocks.  Tell her I said so.  I hope you're feeling ok with the pregnancy and all.  Wish we were closer so we could be with you and hug you.  When Miri (his wife, my close friend Meredith) was sick, you were the most awesome of friends.  I will never forget that.  Perhaps one of the reasons I love you.  Hang in there and let us know how she is doing.  A lot of miles between us but sending all our love...

TO MY FRIEND LORI: Hi, my mom has a brain tumor.  I am okay but pretty shaken up.  You're visiting your folks this week?  I hoped you missed the big snowstorm.

FROM LORI:Ohmygod...so sorry abt your mom!  What do the doctors say abt treatment/prognosis?

TO LORI: Don't know anything and my mother is alone so hav to get info from her which is hard for her.  Wen u go to parents?

FROM LORI: Just read the blog entries...God, so sorry for what u went thru--can't even imagine how terrifying it must have been.  We leave early tomorrow am but if u need to talk, please don't hesitate to call

TO LORI: Your father is a neurologist, right?  Ok if I contact u once I know what's going on (if necess).  Still trying to reach Mom's doctor.  It sux being here.

FROM LORI: Of course!  Call anytime, and if there's any way I can help or any info my dad can provide, we will do whatever we can. Try to hang in there...

TO LORI: I'm ok, just going a little crazy cuz my mom is alone.  Gonna leave E w C for the 1st time to go there later this wk.  Maybe hav better shot of talking to dr in person.  

TO LORI: Finally spoke to her dr.  Hav to do mri in next 24hrs then biopsy.  Sed tumor in accessible location-not sure if it will b biopsy or they try to get it all.  know more after mri.

FROM LORI: Ok.  Sending good thoughts your way and hers.  

FROM MOM'S FRIEND JACKIE: Please keep me informed about Fran.  I am so upset.  I hope to God that this is benign.  She has suffered enough.  Keep me abreast of how she is and tell her that I have asked for her.  Your mother is a fighter, it's been a long big fight, but she will hang in there.  Take care, Jackie

TUESDAY

TO LORI: any way your dad can check on neurosurgeon dr simon salerno in wall, nj?  Frontal lobe brain tumor, did mri this morn.  Moms regular dr saw mri report, sed it lks like they think its benign tho not certain til biopsy.  Regular dr sed bigger issue  is size and location, needs to get out fast

FROM LORI: I will ask my dad abt the doctor.  when are you going to nj or are you already there?

TO LORI:  going to nj tomorro.  Spoke to neuro office today-they gd about calling me+ they still think its benign due to location.  Probly hav surgery on thurs to remove as much of tumor as can.

FROM MY FRIEND MARY: Let me know if your mother needs anything and I can stop by the hospital.  

FROM LORI: My dad says not a lot of info on record abt dr. salerno.  sounds pretty young.  at most has abt 6yrs experience-which could be good bc he is probably up on all the newest technology.  Dad also says frontal lobe benign tumor has greatest sucess of full recover.  Most risky part abt it is the surgery.  make sure your mom's anesthesiologist has full medical background on her heart issues, etc.

TO LORI: thanks for asking your dad.  They did an ekg on mom today and hav to run an echo 2morro to clear her for surgery so I think they know about heart issues.  Her dr sed she needs it-fast.

WEDNESDAY

FROM C'S MOM: Dear Lisa, C called and told us about your mother.  We were so sorry to hear.  We hope the operation will go well and that the recovery will be smooth and uneventful.  I know your mother has had health issues and I am saddened that she has another one to face.  I can only imagine how hard this must be on you.  I know how very close you are with your mother.  And this should be such a joyous time as you await the birth of the new baby.  Please let your mother know that she is in our thoughts and prayers, as are you.  Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.  You just need to let me know.

TO LORI: Mom cleared for surgery.  Prob now is Dr. Salerno goes on vacay on fri so if they can't sched it 4 tomorro, not sure who will do it.  Apparently can't wait til he gets back.

FROM LORI: Why wouldn't they be able to do it tomorrow as long as she's cleared to go?

TO LORI: Scheduling with hospital.  It lks like she is schedule 4it but neuro didn't tell her, the endicrinologist  sed sched get instruct from nite nurse.  I was at her place getting her stuff so never even met Salerno.  Can u ask your father how long she mite be in hosp after surgery.  Hav to go back to NY + afraid they might release her rite away.  I don't she she shld be home alone but I can't leave E for too long.  

TO LORI: Nurse is running thru all this stuff w nite nurse + its just terrifying listening to this shit.

FROM LORI: My dad wants to know exactly what type of tumor it is...Glyoma or meningioma or glyoblastoma or something else.  as far as hosp stay, he says it depends on how she responds to surgery.  Cld be as little as 2-3 days.  

TO LORI: I'm not sure but I think it mite be meningioma.  

FROM LORI: He says usually very good prognosis on meningiomas.  

TO LORI: yeah dr I spoke to yesterday seemed very positive but I don't kno if they always make it snd like that or what.  She has to have mra of sinus tonite-nurse told her they mite go in thru her nose and my mom's like less I know, better.

TO LORI: Finally met dr salerno.  Sed thinks its mengioma but can't say 2 100 percent certainty until actually in there.  Biggest prob is tumor on main artery that drains blood from the head so hav to be careful around that artery.  Postponed vacay to mon to follow-up.

TO MY FRIEND MARY: Surgery scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.  If you can stop by and sit with me for some of it, that would be great.

FROM LORI: Glad he's able to stay.  What time is surgery tomorrow?

TO LORI: Aft, not exact set time.  Took me 20mins to get car in Moms driveway cuz snow.  Exhausted.  Talk soon.  Hav fun w your daughter.  I miss my girl.

THURSDAY

FROM MY COUSIN PAT: Lisa, I figured you were having a long day at the hospital, but wasn't sure other than to leave a message how to get in touch.  I feel bad that you are there by yourself.  Hospitals are not the best of places to be, let alone being alone and worrying.  After we got off the phone, the brain kicked in gear and I started wondering about all of her health issues, medication that she is on (blood thinners, etc.) and wondering how that would affect or if it would allow surgery.  Then there is the concern with her heart.  Life has certainly not been kind to your mom.  Just to let you know that you have both been in my thoughts and prayers.  Did not know if you mentioned this to anyone else.  I wish I could give you a big hug right now.  Tell our mom we are thinking of her and praying that all goes well.

FROM MY FRIEND DAVID: I have your mom in my prayers.  Let us know her # at the hospital.  We'd like to call her... (I told my mother she ranks higher than me, they never call me from Israel.)

FROM C'S MOM: I hope the surgery is going well.  Keep us updated when you can.  I was so happy to hear that Mary will be with you.  It will help to have that support.

TO MY COUSIN PAT: Thanks for your nice message.  I just wanted to let you know Mom's surgery isn't scheduled until 4pm so I won't have any news until much later.

FROM C'S MOM:  We will be thinking of you both at 4pm.  Give your Mom a hug and one for you too.

FROM PAT: How is she??  I'll bet she is so afraid.  Please let her know that she is in my thoughts, prayers--you too.  Do they have any idea of how long the surgery will be?? Is there anyone with you?

TO PAT: She is very thirsty because they won't let her drink anything until after the surgery.  Other than that, she is fine but she won't be if they don't take her at 4 (which is often the case at hospitals).  I'm fine-my friend mary will come by at some point and so is my father.  The surgeon told me the surgery will take 3-4 hrs but I'm not buying it.  I know that it always takes longer than that so I'm prepared for it.  I just hope they really hav her by 4:30 or so.  Its not easy waiting to hav yr skull cut open.

TO MY FRIEND LORI: Oh my god, if I hav to hear my mother complain about her constipation again I'm going to go insane.  Surgery sched for 4

FROM LORI: Could be worse.  Could be diarrhea...

TO MY COUSIN KATHY: I just wanted to let you know my mom is in the hospital.  She has a brain tumor they think is benign but its big and has to be removed.  She is scheduled to hav surgery late today.  Sorry to be telling you this in an email but everything is happening very fast.  I was on the phone with her Sunday night when suddenly she had some kind of seizure.  I called her neighbor, they broke in the house and rode to the hospital with her and now here we are.  the neurosurgeon appears pretty good + if surgery goes well, she should be ok.  

I hav not told Gram yet, not sure when that will happen.  I want to wait until after the surgery so should you speak to Gram and Pap, please don't mention it.

4:54 pm--TO MY FRIEND MARY WHO SAT IN THE OR WAITING ROOM WHILE I SAT WITH MY MOTHER IN THE HOLDING AREA BEFORE THE OR: Just sitting here in another waiting room with mom waiting...

FROM MARY: Ok, we're in the other waiting room

5:37pm--TO MARY: Still just sitting here.  No dr, nothing.  I wonder if they're even going to do surgery @ this point its so late.  

FROM MARY: Oh I hope they do it.  They shouldn't make her wait likes this.  Keep me posted.

FROM MY COUSIN KATHY: Thanks for letting me know about your mom.  How did the surgery go for her.  How long will she be in the hospital?  Let me know if there is ANYTHING I can do.

FROM MY MOTHER'S CLOSE FRIEND DORIS: I am so glad you contacted me about your mother's surgery.  I am very concerned and would like to know how the surgery went.  Please keep me posted on how things are going.  My prayers and best wishes are with you.

FRIDAY

2:39am--TO KATHY: Mom's finally done with surgery.  dr sed she's ok.  Exhausted, more later.

2:40am--TO PAT: She's finally out of surgery.  dr. sed it went well.  Exhausted.  more tomorrow.

FROM MEREDITH, MY CLOSE FRIEND: What's going on with your mom??  David told me last night.  apparently he had forwarded an email to me from you that didn't have the whole story.  Its a tumor?  She had surgery today??  pls let me know whats going on with her and with you.  I am so concerned for her and for you.  Pls let me know asap.  I love you.

FROM C'S MOM: I am so glad to hear it went well.  I will be watching for the next update.  I hope you are doing okay.

TO MEREDITH: Mom was in surgery until 3a.  Dr. said it went well+ he got most of the tumor out.  He really doesn't think tumor was malignant but have to wait for the pathology report.  I saw her briefly after the surgery.  She looked to be in pain and she was very upset that I was still there.  I am sorry she had to go through this but happy they could do something about it.  What a week!  last week @ this time we had no idea she had a brain tumor.  Now she's recovering from a craniotomy.  Keep her in your thoughts and prayers as she recovers and thanks for checking in.  

FROM PAT: You poor little thing--you really had a LONG day yesterday.  I noticed the time you sent the email.  So glad to hear the surgery went well.  Now if the recovery can go as well that will be wonderful.  

FROM MOM'S FRIEND JACKIE: Thank you Lisa.  I was holding breath until your email.  

FROM LORI: Just wanted to check in on you.  How are things?

TO LORI: Hi, mom in surgery last night til 3am but supposedly it went well.  I called ICU to see how she's doing and her nurse sed she's ok, just complaining about her constipation.  The more things change, the more they stay the same...

Update on Mom

So my mother endured nine hours of brain surgery late Thursday into Friday.  I didn't get back to her house until close to 4am.  The neurosurgeon said the surgery went better than he expected.  I am impressed that I managed to stay relatively calm throughout the entire ordeal but I'm back in New York with Eliza now and I feel very badly that I'm not with my Mom.

I arrived Wednesday and went straight to the hospital.  Mom looked pretty good for some one with a brain tumor.  The neurosurgeon, is relatively sure my mother has what's called a Meningioma, which is a benign, frontal lobe brain tumor.  Apparently, as far as brain tumors go, this is the one to get.  It has the highest rate of a full recovery.  

Although they can't be sure that the tumor isn't cancerous until after the pathology report, the tumors location indicates that it's a Meningioma.  

Mom's surgery was scheduled for 4pm and the orderly arrived just a little after four.  My cheerleading squad that consisted of my friend Michelle and my father had already shown up.  We followed the orderly as he wheeled Mom towards the OR.  

"I hope I recognize you all when I wake up," Mom said.

I accompanied mother to the holding area where we sat for close to two hours.  A nurse asked a series of questions and then disappeared.  

"Am I the only customer?" My mother asked.  Finally, around 5:40, the anesthesiologists arrived and asked the same questions as the nurse.  Then Dr. Salerno walked up and I realized who he reminded me of: my friend David who moved to Israel.  I felt like the surgery had to go well if my Mom was to be operated on by a doctor who looked like one of my closest friends.  

They started with the anesthesia and I walked down a long hallway to meet Michelle and my father in the OR waiting room.  

A TV blared.  Two small children ran around.  Jeopardy bled into American Idol, then a reality show and then ER and we found ourselves the last people there.  We changed ER-- a case of art meeting reality.  I know how surgery goes and even though the doctor said it would take three to four hours, I knew it would probably take longer and that didn't necessarily mean anything bad.  

Close to 11pm, they phoned the desk to tell me that my Mom was fine and the surgery was going well.  I felt relieved, but still secretly wondered if they were back there arguing over who'd go out and tell the pregnant chick they just screwed up her Mother.  

Michelle hung in until after midnight.  I was grateful she came at all and certainly hadn't expected her to stay over six hours.  I felt guilty and at the same time insanely blessed to have good friends.  My blackberry helped me keep in touch with frantic relatives via email.  

Finally, after two am, they called the desk to say the surgery was over and all was well.  They had to wake Mom up and then they'd come get us.  My father and I went down to ICU and waited until they were ready to let us see her.

As soon as she saw us, Mom started to cry.  She looked pale and her head was covered with a white dressing that kind of resembled a turban.  

"Go home," she said.  "I'm sorry."

"We couldn't," my Dad said.  

I smiled.  In that moment, I was so proud of her, of us, by how well we'd handled all this.  

"You're okay, Mom," I said.  "It's good to see you."

They moved her out of ICU on Friday and I returned to New York.  I feel terrible separated from my mother but Friday started with a phone call from Eliza where she begged me to pick her up at school.  I know some of it was toddler manipulation but I got the message: "Mama, come home."  I don't ever want my daughter to think I'm not listening.

I have no idea what I face when Mom gets out of the hospital.  She might not be able to drive, she might not be able to live alone for a long time, if ever.  Anyone who reads this blog with any regularity knows that I'm not happy in my current situation so other than the school Eliza attends three days a week, there's no real reason for me to stay in New York.  I wonder about dragging Eliza into this situation but my mother really doesn't have anyone to take care of her other than me.  She doesn't have a big bank account for private nursing care and her house is probably worth so little at this point, selling isn't an option.  I'm all she really has.  

I'm not leaving my daughter behind.  C gave me some song and dance about her having a life here and how he's her parent too, he's not chopped liver.  Believe me, as my father sat with me for all those hours during his ex-wife's surgery, I was reminded of the importance of fathers.  But mothers are important too and I've been this kid's primary caregiver all of her life.  Though she and C had a good time in my absence, she spent more hours with the babysitter than with C.  These days we have day care and playdates and other things we think are so important but Eliza is three, is there anything more important than her family.  My mother only lives two hours outside New York and C can go back and forth a lot more easily than I can at 32 weeks pregnant.

But enough about him.  My friend Meredith called me from Israel today to check on my Mom and me.  this is the first time I've heard her voice since I left her at the airport back in May.  Next time I speak to my mother, I'm going to tell her she should get brain tumors more often.

Kidding folks!

Shaking

My mother has a brain tumor.  There's no easy way to say it and certainly there was no easy way to hear it.  My mother delivered the news to me herself: I am sorry for that.  My mother's next door neighbor, Karinna, was supposed to tell me but I tracked my mother down at the hospital sooner than she expected.  

Karinna called about an hour after she rode in the ambulance to the hospital with my mother.  She said my mother was lucid and joking around and that it looked like she may have had a mini-stroke.  My mother has Afib, a heart condition that can lead to a stroke so this has been a concern for some time.  I was not surprised, but I wasn't happy either.  Karinna couldn't find the key to my mother's house so she had her sixteen-year-old son break in.  They found my mother on the floor and it was pretty scary but help arrived quickly.  They didn't even bring a coat for my mother, they moved so fast.  

Karinna asked me to call her house and tell her son that my mother was stable.  An answering machine picked up and I thanked Dylan for breaking and entering.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I rambled into the machine.  

Karinna stayed with my mother so my mother wasn't alone when she found out she had a brain tumor.  The hospital who'd done the CAT scan didn't have a neurologist so my mother was transferred to another hospital.  I tracked her down early this morning and they connected me to her room.  When my mother asked me if I'd spoken to Karinna, I should have known it was worse than I thought but I still fell apart when she told me.  My poor Mom, suffering with her own brain tumor and me, a basket case.

Ten years ago, a close friend of my mother's died from a brain tumor and my mother was with her when she died.  It wasn't pretty and I'm sure that's what's going through her head right now.  We don't know anything yet so I'm trying not to jump to any conclusions.  I'm probably going to head to Jersey later this week to be the point man so my mother doesn't have to be the only one receiving information.  I'm a bit snowed in at the moment and I need to get Eliza's care in order.  This will be the first trip I take without my daughter.  I need her and I will miss her but she doesn't need to be hanging around the hospital with me.  She's better off in school, with her father.

I can't stop shaking.  Last night I stood in Eliza's room while she slept and wished so much I could climb into bed with her and hold her.  But I didn't want to wake her so I just stood perfect still and listened to her breathe while I stared at the spooky blue glow of her nightlight.  I felt like a little girl, alone, shaking, terrified of the dark.

Waiting

I was on the phone with my mother tonight.  We weren't talking about anything important.  She asked me if Eliza had school tomorrow and I said "why wouldn't she?"  She then told me the tri-state area was expecting a foot of snow overnight.  

I don't remember exactly what we were talking about but suddenly she started to make these weird noises like Cindy Pittinger made on the short bus home from camp one day.  My brother and I went to summer camp for special needs students when I was in third grade or so.  On the aformentioned day, Cindy had some kind of seizure where she almost swallowed her tongue.  One the camp counselors came to her aid and all was well but it was a good 33 years ago and I still remember the sound.  

And here I was holding a phone in my hand, screaming "Mommy" like a child while my mother babbled on the other end.  I was on the floor screaming when C came in the room to ask what was wrong.  I handed him my cell phone and told him to get Karrina, my mother's next door name, from my cell phone contact list.  As he fumbled unknowingly through my alien cell phone, I screamed help me.  Finally, I was able to pull up Karinna's number on my own and she promptly went to my mother's and called an ambulance.  

She called a bit later with some guy who wasn't a paramedic, but apparently had the ability to take her blood pressure.  The man asked me if my mother is diabetic (she's type II) and if I might know the location of her test kit.  I guessed by her favorite chair and he got off the phone.  He then told me her blood pressure was fine which I guess is good news.  She was awake and breathing on her own, but not coherent.  

Later, Karinna called to say they were taking my mother to the hospital and that she'd go with her for a little while.  Karinna promised to call when she found out something but said she couldn't stay at the hospital too long. 

Karinna runs a day care center out of her home and she starts pretty early most days.  I hope she's not stuck at the hospital too long.  

About 70 miles and a big snowstorm separate me from my mother right now.  It's been about an hour since she went to the hospital.  I feel utterly alone and helpless.

And waiting.

Life Choices

It's that time, the time to make the big choice.  Do I stay in New York with my current doctor, have the baby here with C?  He claims he'll take the time off work and help with the baby, I have a great babysitter here and Eliza can stay in school.  

Or do I move in with my mother at the end of March?  My mother is not in great health, I don't know how much she can help with the baby and Eliza and the woman who runs a day care center is wonderful, but Eliza prefers her current school and so do I.  The big pro of staying with my mother is she loves me, something I can not say for C.  When I am with Eliza and my mother, though she can't physically help with Eliza the way C can, I feel like I'm part of a family. 

C and his family have always cared for Eliza and been there for Eliza so they've been helpful in that regard but they are not caring or interested in me.  C's Mom probably shows the most consideration my way but her weird insecurities and her frequent perception of me as a rival have often clouded her treatment of me.  Perhaps if C and I had done this the right way, got married, had a longer life together without a child, maybe this would be different.  But C and I were together for a while and didn't get married because he refuses to commit to me.

I have stayed with some one who in every way has not made me a priority because it's convenient, my daughter loves him and its hard breaking up a family.  Well, I'm done now and though it might be easier to stay with him for those first few weeks after the baby is born, it's gonna be that much harder to leave when I do.  One one hand, moving again could be very traumatic on Eliza and if I don't do things C's way, he won't help me move at all.  Packing is very challenging with a big belly.  

But then I'll move, have all my stuff in storage, have the hard part behind me and for the last month, Eliza and I can settle into our new life and get ready to welcome the new baby.  I'll welcome the new baby into the world with the worst of it behind me.  It's cruel to C, to leave and cut him off from the new baby bonding process when he's now willing to take time off work and help out.  I don't want to be cruel, I just want to do what's best for me.

And I think I already know what that is. 

February Update

Haven't been writing much of anything lately.  Call it being pregnant/sick/winter blues.  Eliza is so much fun these days, there's certainly plenty to write but it seems she does something wonderful, I think I must write this down and then I forget.  

Recently, Eliza snuggled up against me and said "Mama, I love being your little girl."  It was the single best thing anyone has ever said to me.  I think this is better than some one saying "And the Oscar goes to..." although the chances of that are extremely unlikely.  She has become very needy as of late and it can be difficult for me.  She wants me all the time.  The good side of this: she wants to snuggle all the time.  The bad side of this: she has never been one for sitting still so I have various injuries on my face from accidental smack-ups.  Though I relish this new, "I need my Mama so much" phase, sometimes I need a break.  But she's at school now, providing me with a much needed break from all this closeness.  And I write this now for posterity so in the years that will come to follow, as she moves off to friends and a world away from me, I can recall with clarity, a great time when my little girl wouldn't let me put her down.

I am still ambivalent about a second child.  I'm about 30 weeks pregnant at this point.  C and I can't agree on a name.  I'm not even sure where I'm delivering this baby.  I might leave New York and C before the baby is born and move in with my mother temporarily to have the baby.  Or I might stay here in New York so Eliza can finish the school year and have some illusion of normalcy before and after the baby's birth.  Then I plan to make my escape to my mother's some time in the summer before seeking and finding my own place in late summer or fall.  

As much as I want a family life for Eliza, I am extremely unhappy in my relationship with C.  This is not going to improve, things only continue to get worse.  It's truly difficult saying to the world that I'm putting myself (the fact that I'm unhappy) before what Eliza might need (a home with both parents).  I know what Eliza needs is a happy mother but whose to say I'll be all that much happier without C?  I only know that I can't live my life with the heavy amount of verbal abuse and criticism that I have to endure on a regular basis.  Plus C has always refused to get married, when I wasn't working gave me a monthly "stipend" as opposed to a joint account and constantly reminds me how good I have it, how he works so hard to provide a home for me while I do nothing in return.  I don't know, I guess I thought he wanted me around and he enjoyed providing a home for the woman who takes care of his child but we are not partners, nor have we ever been.  

My job ended abruptly early this month when they cancelled the show with no notice.  So two weeks of work I was banking on and need for insurance purposes are gone.  If I stay in New York, I have to ask C for money to buy groceries, make doctor copayments, take care of Eliza and my own needs.  I've been in this position before, begging him for money and him, putting me down, telling me that I'm a loser and that I contribute nothing while he has to work so hard.  Then he throws the check at me and says "Congratulations, you're rich."  

But let's not waste time talking about him.  Though I miss the money and my coworkers, I am glad not to be working during this time of year.  I have enjoyed being here for Eliza and kind of taking it easy as my belly expands.  I finally broke down the other day and purchased a few onesies and tee shirts for the baby--my way of saying yes, this might really happen.  Eliza seems very excited about being a big sister though I think she is going to have  rude awakening when the baby comes home.  Eliza's expecting they'll have tea parties and play with Barbie dolls right away.  

Finally, I mentioned my friend's child with cancer in my last entry--he is undergoing surgery to have his kidney removed today.  He will then endure more chemo and radiation over the next few months.  But they do expect a full recovery.  My friends are going through a very difficult time right now, but they have tremendous support and for that, I am so very grateful.  We had a playdate with the boy yesterday and he looked great.  A little less hair but other than that, his coloring was good, he seemed very energetic and robust and he was a great deal of fun to be around.  I am amazed at the resilience of children.  I am so glad he is doing so well and can only pray that he continues to seem as healthy throughout this terrible ordeal no one should have to endure.

Back to Work, January Blues

I'm not going to lie, the past week has sucked.  We are all healthy so nothing major has happened but adjusting to our new quarters while trying to get ready to be at work and be gone for two weeks has been more difficult than I expected.  

I will be moving again in the next few months to a location yet to be determined.  C and I decided to end this dismal relationship and he's basically kicked me out of the new apartment.  In a way, it comes as a relief to finally close the door on this chapter of my life and move on.  There's just one catch I've been pretty quiet about--I'm 23 weeks pregnant.  

Yes, I hadn't mentioned it because of my past history of failed pregnancies and my general lack of enthusiasm as the pregnancy progressed due to the aforementioned dismal relationship.  C and I are miserable together so why'd I have to be so stupid as to get knocked up again?  Now I'm going to be a homeless, unemployed single mother with two kids.  

Eliza is excited so I've tried to share in her excitement.  I enjoy feeling the baby kick and grow inside me and I'm sure once I see her, I'll  realize that this must have happened for a reason.  But for now, I'm simply terrified and feel completely inadequate and unable to care for two children.  I guess even people from stable families feel terrified by the prospect of two kids.  I am grateful that so far the pregnancy has progressed smoothly and all test results (CVS, anatomy scan) indicate a healthy little girl.  And when you have health, you have everything.

On Christmas Eve, my little cousin Bobby had a heart attack.  He's 38, I think.  His mother died of a heart attack at age 40, he has the same heart problem that she has and due to the fact that he's been in and out of jail for the past ten years, he problem hasn't taken care of himself.  Bobby's the family black sheep and I can't say I particularly like the person he became but when I found out he'd suffered a heart attack, all the bitter feelings went away and I remembered the time he called on my birthday and did a surprisingly good imitation of my grandmother.  Or the Christmases we spent at my grandmother's house and the time he moved me out of one of my college apartments.  That's my little cousin--he shouldn't be having a heart attack.  They expect he'll make a full recovery and I'd love to say maybe he'll take this time to clean up his act but I doubt it.  So I not only mourn his poor health but the mess he's made of his life.

Two days later, my grandfather had a stroke.  He's 102, yes I know he can't live forever but that doesn't make this any easier.  He is out of the hospital and not paralyzed but can no longer walk on his own.  I so wish he lived closer so I could see him more often.

Now that I have you thoroughly depressed, let me hit you with the kicker.  I also found out last week that one of Eliza's little playmates has cancer.  He's three, we were all at his birthday party in December and all was well.  It turns out he has a tumor on his kidney that burst and he had to have emergency surgery on December 26th.  His cancer is stage three and as with any of these things, there are no answers at the moment, only treatment and hope.  I am devastated and disgusted that a three-year-old kid has to go through this, not to mention the hell his parents are living.  He has to be well, he must get better; I can not imagine a world without him in it.  I can't say that I'm close to his mother but I've known them since he was a baby, happily watched him take his first steps at only eight months, I've been to his birthday parties and he's been to all of Eliza's.  I feel like I've been walking around in a daze since I found out, a bundle of anger and fire and helplessness, trying to imagine some way I could make him better.  

I remember the second time I found out my mother had cancer, some one told me that at moments like this, I had to surrender to a higher power.  I'm more or less agnostic so I took no comfort in the idea of my mother's fate being out of my hands.  My mother's cancer turned out to be stage one--both times.  We were lucky in that regard.  

I keep thinking about the children's story "The Snow Queen."  To summarize; a little boy is kidnapped and taken to the North Pole by the Snow Queen.  His best friend Gerta travels a perilous journey to find her friend.  When she discovers him in a palace made of snow, he does not recognize or want her because the Snow Queen has frozen his heart with ice.  Gerta collapses at his feet weeping and her tears melt the ice around his heart and bring him back.  She saves him not just with ingenuity and fortitude but with love.  

I long to throw my arms around this little boy and cry tears that could magically erase the evil that lurks quietly inside his little body.  

"Well you don't smell good so..."

The other day, while spending some more of my hard-earned cash on the lovely Eliza, I leaned in to hug her and she said "You smell bad."

I backed up, allowed her to see that I was hurt, and said "Eliza that's a terrible thing to say to Mama.  It's mean."

She shrugged and looked at me rather innocently, completely unaware that she'd hurt me.  "Well, you don't smell good so..." I'm afraid I can't how she finished the sentence.  No, I'm not trying to censor my daughter, I simply didn't understand what she said at the time or I don't remember.

I didn't smell, by the way.  I'd taken a luxurious shower a few hours earlier.  We were visiting my mother at the time this wonderful statement was made and my Mom thought perhaps she said this because while I was enjoying said shower, Eliza was downstairs with my Mom, crying for me.  My mother told Eliza I needed to take a shower or I'd smell bad.  When this line of talking didn't quite work, my Mom then told Eliza that I had to take care of myself in order to take care of her.  I think she still kept on crying.

I wonder if she is learning these kind of statements from her peers at school.  Today, while I clipped and polished her tiny toenails, she said "I can't go to school with my toes looking like this.  I can't let the kids in my class see my toes like this."

I wasn't aware that she was showing off her feet to her classmates but I suppose well-groomed toenails can be added to her list of worries.

Not much more time to write so to summarize the past week--C and I moved all of our stuff out of our old apartment last Tuesday, slept on air mattresses and then moved our stuff into our new place on Wednesday morning.  I shouldn't say we moved it because we had a team of movers do the dirty work but it certainly felt like I'd done quite a bit.  We spent New Year's Eve unpacking.  Thursday, I unpacked all my clothes so I could turn around and pack a suitcase for a holiday visit to my parents for the weekend.  It was a bit too much and I'm happy to be in my new home for the moment.  

All is well and Eliza returned to school yesterday, thank goodness.  It was really tough having her home from school and no babysitting relief while we packed and prepped for the move.  But we are more or less settled.  The kitchen is unpacked and both bedrooms (yes, Eliza has her own bedroom for the very first time!) are in good shape.  However, the living room is a sea of boxes and I've pretty much run out of places to unpack and put things.  We had several big closets in our old apartment that made up for the fact that we have no bookcases or entertainment center.  While this apartment is spacious by New York standards and the kitchen is the best I've had, there is very limited closet space and no shared storage space.  So bikes, the car seat, suitcases, etc. are in full view.  

Several boxes filled with books, cds and dvds are also polluting the living room but until we have some kind of enormous bookcase/storage unit in place, I don't expect this problem to be rectified.  But I don't care, I've no problem living amongst boxes as long as I can cook in my kitchen.  It drives C crazy, but not enough to invest in said storage unit.

Right now is the honeymoon period in our new place but soon, I expect he'll be screaming that these boxes are not unpacked.  

But right now, I choose to be happy in my new home with my girl.