Happy Birthday to You: Everley Edition: 11 Months Old

Dear Everley,



You'll be 11 months old for about, oh, three more hours. I'm squeaking this one in just under the wire and as such we're going to let the photos do the talking. I will just say this, we spent a lot of your 11th month in Ipperwash, basking in the sunshine with family and friends. It was a glorious month. The kind of summer that in my dreams we would enjoy every year. It was so special and so precious to me. I hope that you'll remember it just as fondly when you look back at this one day.

We also monkeyed around on the swings.

And took a speed boat ride around Lake Rosseau. 

But mostly we lazed on the beach and took in the view.

Did some digging with Uncle Matt.

And explored the sand (and ate the sand).

And also, there were naps. Such glorious, warm, summertime naps.

 I love you,



Mommy

Summertime

I was just outside in the backyard, sweeping and bagging leaves, when I heard the children in the schoolyard next door shriek with pure excitement and joy, "Look! Snow!"

I thought they must be crazy, I was warm from working, hot even, but sure enough I raised my face to the sky just in time to see the dusting of white flakes before they dissolved into icy water droplets and disappeared before my eyes. For a moment I was completely caught up in the contagious energy of the kids and I smiled. Just as quickly as the snowdrops melted, so too did my excitement. Winter.

I've always been a summer girl. It's by and far my favourite season. I thrive on the heat, the sunshine, the thunderstorms. We all know I love the beach, the long, lazy days that humid Toronto summers allow us to indulge ourselves in. I know there are people who love winter for almost the same reason - the excuse to huddle up and stay indoors, watching the weather bluster and blow through the window as you lounge under blankets with hot cocoa and good book. I get it. But still, summer is my season.

I haven't posted about this summer here yet. Unusual for me, since I'm usually so quick to share my most magical moments: my daughter running naked on the beach, kicking back with best friends and family, enjoying cold beverages on the lawn. This summer was no exception, it had all of those moments, each special and worth sharing, and seeing as today is Remembrance Day, 11/11/11, I figure, what better time to remember?

This summer was the best of times. It was also the worst.

I found out I was pregnant in early July. It was not expected exactly but not entirely shocking either. Whatever it was, it was wonderful. I was ready. It's not my place to speak for Cairn here and I won't, but I will dare to say that we were ready. Finally feeling settled into the new house and with many months ahead to take care of anything else that needed doing, a March due date was just perfect. Bella would be four years old (!) and off to Kindergarten in September. I'd keep her home with me part time in the summer, maybe. By the the time summer arrived, I'd have a four month old and a four year old - imagine? I'd spend extra time at the cottage with the kids.

The kids. I've always thought there would be two.

I drifted in a happy daze through the first summer month. Just thrilled really. Bursting inside with my secret. Happy at work and at home in a way that I hadn't been quite a while. It had been a trying year, with all the house stuff and changes at the office. Exciting, but stressful. And finally I was calm and settled in. I started planning how I'd tell Bella the news. She was asking for a baby brother or sister a lot at that time. She still is. I was already choosing names and decorating rooms in my head even though as every newly pregnant woman is aware, particularly those at my age, it was too early to be doing all those things. But as we also know, the love for a child does not start on the day they are born. It starts the moment you discover your secret. It's a special, intense love that only a mother can feel.

I miscarried naturally at home on August 1. Exactly one week after I'd started spotting. The longest week of my life. I was almost nine weeks along and had known about my pregnancy for four weeks. Four weeks is a long time when you're dreaming up a life for a child.

I'm not trying to be melodramatic and some might wonder why I'm choosing to share this now and in this way. It's difficult to tell people this in person. Awkward for them, because they struggle to find the right words to say, when really there aren't any. Awkward for me because I want to gloss over it and be quick to assure then that "I'm okay, it wasn't the right time, we'll all be fine!" I'm also sharing because because I don't want to hide this thing that happened to me, to us, behind closed doors. I've read many, many brave and inspiring stories from other women since this happened. I know I'm not alone with this grief. I want to join their ranks. To let other women know that it's okay to be angry and confused and devastated by the loss of a pregnancy. But also that it does not define you, it does not destroy you and you should not be ashamed.

I'm not ashamed. But I've had moments of huge guilt. Moments of panic that this will happen again and again. Moments of utter, heart-wrenching sadness. Those painful moments hit me less and less as the summer days drifted into fall, and even less now as fall drifts into winter. And between those awful moments have been many, many moments of pure joy. The joy of summer that I dream about all winter long.

That's what I choose to share from this summer past. And so here I celebrate with snapshots of summer 2011 - a bittersweet one but a sweet one none-the-less.

Happy Birthday to You: 20 Months Old

Dear Anabella,

This week you turned 20 months old.

Sigh. I remember my 20's. They were fantastic.

September is one of my favourite months of the year for many reasons. First of all, it's my birthday month, though this one has crawled pretty far down the reasons-I-love-September ladder since I grew out of my aforementioned 20's.

Second, school starts! Even though I am no longer in school, haven't been for a long, long, long (you get the point) time, I still feel a little nostalgic thrill every year when school begins. I love the feeling of all the university students pouring back into the city and walking around U of T campus with their new clothes and glossy books. I love watching the teenagers on the bus, gossiping or sulking, on their way to class.

Third, the weather. September is the new summer. Though I was born on the last official day of summer, I consider myself entirely a summer baby. I LOVE summer, the hotter the better. For the last few years September has been the sunniest, warmest, most beautiful summer month. We always spend Labour Day weekend and some of the following week in Ipperwash, soaking up those final summer rays on that most incredible beach -- a beach that clears out after holiday Monday and becomes all ours and ours alone. It is the definition of happiness for me to be on that beach with nobody else but the people I love most in the entire world.

September is pretty close to perfect. But for the last couple of years we have had some tough times in this particular month. In 2007, when you were still safely tucked away in my belly, there was a terrible accident with Momo and we nearly lost him. Then last year, the unthinkable happened to a family that we know. It stopped me in my tracks for a while and still does, when I think of them, even now. So this year when September rolled around I found that I entered it not with my usual giddy sense of excitement and joy but instead with a sense of foreboding doom.

Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like everything is too perfect. Too beautiful. Too happy. I find myself starting to seek out all the terrible things that could happen. To ready myself for them. Steel myself against them. Prepare.

But then, just when I feel like I've gotten lost in the fog, there shines my light. My impish, smiling, squishable light. I just need to watch you for a minute, just being you, and I realize why I get so anxious about the possibility of something terrible happening. It's because of the love. Every day I love you more. And the more that I love you the more I stand to lose. It's that simple. It's the risk that we all take when we decide to become parents.

You are 20 months old this week. One day you will be 20 years old. Can my heart hold 20 years worth of ever increasing love? Can it hold 60? I have to assume that it can because if there is one truth, one undeniable fact that I can share with you it is this, every second of every minute of every hour that goes by I love you more and more and more. And somehow my heart just expands.

If there is one thing that can make September -- that beautiful, complicated month -- even more perfect that it already is, Anabella, it's you.

I love you.

Mommy

Happy Birthday to You: 1 Year Old!

Dear Anabella,


On Friday you turned one year old. I can’t say that this is the first time in my life I am speechless, because I’m afflicted with speechlessness often, but I can say that for the first time in my life I am wordless. Meaning, I actually cannot locate the words in my brain to send down into my fingers and put on this page.

I have thought and I have thought about how I can put what this feels like into words and all that happens in my brain is a quick and grainy lot of images flashing by like silent Super 8 movies, flickering across a lumpy backdrop, starting with the first moment I saw your face and ending with you tonight, sitting in your pretty party dress, surrounded by the people who love you the most.

One year. One magical, wonderful, life-altering year.

So I try to jump start my brain and it sputters to life with an image of me, lying in the hospital, just 366 short days ago, working very hard to bring you into the world. In case you’d like to revisit, it went something like this.

Then another flash and you are home. Your daddy and I, so used to our lives as two, are now three. And after mere days, we can’t imagine it ever having been any other way.


Flash! We are joined by another new life, a tiny, porcelain doll of a girl who I will quickly and seamlessly come to love like a second daughter. Olivia and Aunty Emily become fixtures in our year, rendering the experience twice as nice.


Flash again and it’s spring! Glorious and fresh, you and I are free to wander our city together, tourists in the place I’ve called home forever, but now, with you, everything is brand-new.


Summer arrives like a blinding flash, the sunlight glinting in your beautiful eyes as we laze about at the cottage, enjoying our time with Grandnana and exploring the beach that I love so much. To see you sit in the sand and splash in surf is a life-long dream of mine fulfilled. I’m choked at the image and need to pause. It’s my next dream that we might spend another summer like that, together, before you are too old to want to be there alone with your family.


Suddenly it is fall. Your Aunty Emily and I are running through High Park with you girls in your strollers. We are laughing one minute out of sheer fun, and tearing up the next as we realize how fleeting these precious moments are. Sitting in the fading warmth, sipping coffee and talking about how this moment, right here, can only happen like this once. I look into her eyes and am so grateful to have her, someone who really, truly understands.

Flash! You are sitting. Flash! You are crawling. Flash! It’s Christmastime already?


It’s a joyous holiday, your very first Christmas, just another in the infinite and awesome list of firsts that I have tried diligently to capture for you here, but really I have only scratched the very surface. The holidays come and go in a blink and suddenly it is upon us. January.

A new year and the final month of your first year. It’s a time I have been anticipating anxiously for months and suddenly it is upon us. Flash. I am leaving you behind at the place that will become your new home during the week. I walk out of that daycare for the first time without you and am so overcome with pride at how easy you have made it, so overcome with sadness about how much I will miss you, so overcome. I have to sit in the lobby for several minutes just gathering myself and wondering – where do I go now? What do I do without you?

Imagine? One year. In one year I am lost when you’re not by my side.

Flash! It’s today. And you are the most beautiful little person I have ever seen. All dressed up in your party clothes I see you in a new light. My baby, my tiny little bundle of feet and fingers and wrinkled parts has become this sweet, thoughtful, funny, loving, curious, most amazing little girl. One part daddy, one part mommy, but so many parts just you.


Happy birthday Anabella. How lucky we are that this is just one - another incredible first - of so many more yet to come.



I love you,

Mommy.

Happy Birthday To You: 10 Months Old

Dear Anabella,

You have successfully made it to your double digits (monthly-stylez). Awesome. I am so proud of you and clearly you are entirely proud of yourself as well:

In honour of the big 1 - oh, we're going to do this month's wrap-up Top-10 style.

10. Mama
This month I have said it 5 hundred million, trillion times. You have said it zero times. I'd like to say that means that I win, but it totally means that you win.

9. Daycare
Your father and I have secured you a spot in a very classy joint up the street and this means that we will not have to leave you under the care of Moet in the new year when I go back to work. Believe it or not, this is a good thing. Moet is fun and all but he sucks at making lunch and he'd much prefer to eat your dirty diapers rather than to change them. So lucky you. As for me? I'm having a HEART ATTACK.

8. GT's in The 'Wash
And by by GT's I mean Good Times. And by The 'Wash I mean Ipperwash. And so why don't I just say what I mean? You, me, my mother and her mother spent a wonderful, snowy week in Ipperwash this month. It was the last time that we'll be there this year and that makes me sad, but I'm so glad that we braved the snow storm and made it up there one more time. This leads nicely into...

7. Grannana
Bella, you LOVE your Grannana. She literally can't enter the room without you bursting into a huge smile and contorting your body any which way to get a look at her. I can understand it, she's a funny chick, she's been making me laugh for 33 years and I'm just so happy that you have had the chance to get to know her so well, and love her so much, this year.


6. Obsession #1: The Dog Bed
I know that in comparison to many babies, you are actually very neat and tidy. You are not; however, so neat and tidy say in comparison to me. This month you have really started moving, and with moving comes exploring. And with exploring comes obsessions. At least with your genetic make-up it does. Obsession #1? The dog bed. More than once this month I have looked down from whatever I'm doing (most likely cleaning something) to find you sitting in the middle of Moet's bed chewing on his bone and looking smug. Thankfully my first instinct so far has been to grab you out of there and wash your mouth out with soap and not to run directly for the camera.

5. Obession #2: DVDs
As soon as you started really motoring your first destination was the TV bench. Not surprising what with all the remotes and boxes with glowing clocks and little buttons for your to push, rendering our entire entertainment center completely useless until your father gets home. But more even than the buttons, you wanted the DVDs. I quickly ransacked our collection, ruthlessly tossing out the crap and packaging all the "keepers" into tidy boxes, alphabetically of course, so that you wouldn't be able to get at them. Except that a) I'm an IDIOT if I think that I can keep you away from the mecca of baby entertainment with a few stupid boxes and b) you are not concerned with the rules alphabetization AT ALL.

4. The Month the Warranties Ran Out
Not one but TWO of your favourite baby toys fizzled out on us this month. Your beautiful Pottery Barn Kids mobile stopped moving and making music early one morning while I was desperately cranking it in an attempt to get you back to sleep. And then oh horror of horrors, Glow Pooh, died too. He no longer glows or sings. Both are so sad for me because they are great reminders of your tiny, tinyness, but also because they have been priceless in helping you settle in at night and get to sleep. I'm going to let the mobile go (boohoo) because soon I'll have to take it down anyway, but I think you can expect to get a replacement Pooh under the tree.

3. Baby Bird
This month you remain completely uninterested in feeding yourself unless it's a cookie or Cheerios. Anything off of a spoon, out of a bottle or out of a cup MUST be fed TO YOU in a timely fashion. You will sit and stare at me patiently with mouth agape for several hours if need be, as long as I have food and a spoon in my hand. It's super cute though and looks like this:


2. Lasts
I've often said that watching you grow is a never ending flow of "firsts." Everyday there is something new and amazing. Sadly, though, on the flip side of that there are also a lot of "lasts" as you watch a baby grow. This month we have had a very big one. This month was your last full month of nursing. I'm trying to be funny this month, because there is enough going on that's making me cry, but there's not much funny about this one. It was simply time. It was as much your decision as it was mine, you were tired of it, preferring instead to take a bottle while watching the world around you. I wanted you to be weaned before my return to work and we had whittled our nursing down to a precious and wonderful once per day, always in the morning. That first, tender 15 minutes each day when you were still warm and sleepy, cuddled against me as we both woke up together was one of the highlights of my day and I'd decided that I'd let you continue, if you wanted, even after I went back to work. Then suddenly you just stopped. You'd had enough. I can't even remember our last time and it's just as well. I want to remember all the thousands of times before that one anyway. Great. Now I'm crying after all.

1. Crawling
Let's end this on a high note. This month you have learned to crawl. Full-on, official, forward motion crawling. You started just before you hit the 10 month mark, and you're still a little wobbly in the video below. But since this was taken you have it mastered and though you are still cautious, you are fast. It's time to get up those gates and pack up my belongings... the baby is on the loose.



Happy 10 months BellyBella. You are the bomb.

Love,
Mommy

Happy Birthday To You: 8 Months Old

Dear Anabella,


8 months, eh? Way to go, Kid. Lots to report on this month, for sure, but I'm going to make it brief because of the kind of week it has been for all of us. I'd prefer to reflect on some bigger issues today, instead.

You are fully sitting up by yourself now and you are so proud to be able to do it. It's not too far away before you'll be pulling yourself right forward and starting to crawl. You remain pretty chill about it all, though, and we can tell you are in no rush. Baby Girl, there are so many years ahead of you for rushing. Take it slow for now and enjoy.


You continue to expand your ever growing culinary tastes. This month we started to feed you some chunkier bits and just today you realized what the heck to do with them! You chew! Can't tell you how relieved I am to see it. This has been a tough, tough week and Mommy is on edge about your health and your safety. To see you chew those chunks like a pro and swallow them safely instead of spitting them at me or choking them down is the best gift. We'll be taking it slow here too, but what a great start you have made.



We had our first "all girls'' trip this month with Auntie Dings and baby Liv. The four days that we spent together at the cottage were incredibly precious to me and something that I will remember fondly forever. You seemed to really notice your friend for the first time and to watch you two girls interact in your own baby-way made your Auntie Dings and I swell up with joy. I hope that one day you will have the same relationship with Liv that I am privileged enough have with her mom.


As mentioned, despite the many gifts and joys that you bring to me every day, this has been an incredibly sad week for your father and I, and for many of our friends. I believe that out of great tragedy must come great learning and so I am working very hard to find some perspective and to hold it tight. I've spent some hours sitting in your room and watching you sleep this week. Something that I haven't done since you were tiny and sleeping close beside me. I'm finding that have to let you go a little bit more every day. Every day you get a tiny bit more independent and you need me a tiny bit less. But Anabella, one day you will read this and when you do I want you to know something important.

The fulfillment, love, pleasure and joy that you have brought into our lives in these eight short months is already worth more than any pain or sorrow that we will have to survive as a family. I know that this is not the last difficult week that we will go though together. There will always be more tears and more fears and more challenges. Here's the thing though. As long as we have each other, we can get though it all. All I need, all I need, is Daddy and you.

Another thing that you learned to do very well this month? Give hugs. And wow. I can't imagine a more precious development. Your hugs? They are the best therapy, the best medicine, the only drug that I'll ever need, ever again. As long as those hugs keep coming, we'll keep going. Together, us three.

I love you so much.

Mommy

Happy Birthday to You: 7 Months Old

Dear Bella,

You are SEVEN! months old. I think that in honour of this latest milestone, I will approach this letter with the same enthusiasm that you use for each new discovery, each new sound, sight and taste. Each new friend, experience, butterfly and raindrop that comes your way. This month you have truly come to life and you are HAPPY! TO! BE! HERE!

HAIR! It was inevitable, Kid, given that both your father and I are Sasquatches adorned amply with what your dad likes to refer to as "the Devil's curl." Still, the fact that this month your own hair has finally started to really grow in leaves me feeling relieved. It's so pretty, Bella. So soft and fine, not quite as light as mine and not quite as dark as Dads but just a perfect blend that's all your own. To stroke it is heaven. Please don't ever dye it purple.

EYES! The jury is still out on what colour they will be but they definitely have changed a lot since you were born. They are not quite blue, not quite green, not quite gray and not brown. Confused? Me too. I'll tell you this much though, they are amazing. You will break a lot of hearts with those eyes. Remember, one day, to thank your daddy for those lashes.


FOOD! The feeding frenzy continued this month. You have a voracious appetite and it remains a great pleasure to introduce new flavours to your world. You are now eating three full meals a day, and have enjoyed many fruits and veggies including: apples, pears, peaches, bananas, prunes, apricots, avocado, carrots, peas, broccoli, sweet potato, butternut squash, cauliflower, potato, zucchini and an infinite number of combinations of the above. Soon we'll start to try some proteins like cheese and yogurt and (gulp) meat. I'm afraid of meat since, though not a vegetarian, it does seriously gross me out to see it raw, cook it myself and GOD FORBID puree it. We might use jars for this one. Don't judge me.

BEACH! My greatest pleasure this month, by far, has been introducing you to the beach that I love most in the world. We've walked on it many times this summer, but this month we actually got to hang out on it together, basking in the sun, enjoying the sound of the waves lapping the shore, swimming together in the lake and running the soft sand through our fingers and toes. It's no mistake that this memoire has "Beaches" in it's title. And it's not just because that's the name of the part of the city where I grew up. The beach is my favourite place on earth, it's my serenity, my paradise, my religion. I am never happier that when I am relaxing near the ocean or the lake and I have visited beaches in close to 15 countries all over the world. I can't wait to travel with you to many more, but until then I'm happy that you have been able to enjoy this very special place with me. This has been a magical summer, Anabella. There's a lump in my throat to see it come to an end already, it will probably be many years before we can have such a long and luxurious summer together again, but I want you to know that I will always remember it as the best time of my life.



VELCRO? Baby things are heavily adorned in Velcro. It's just an easy and safe way to attach things and makes putting things together quick and simple for busy parents who are doing most activities with one hand. Here's the thing, though. You HATE it. When I tear apart the two sides that make up this Velcro seal anywhere near you it's as if I am ripping the ear right off of your head. Has anyone ever tried to quietly rip apart Velcro? It's not possible. In a strange twist, once the Velcro has been torn apart, you are ever so eager to suck on it. Give you the rough side of a piece of Velcro to chew on and you're happy for hours. Weird.

SQUEALING! This month you have learned how to communicate with various forms of sea life. Orcas, dolphins, what have you. I'm surprised that Flipper, Shamu, Nemo and the gang haven't shown up on our doorstep yet, but when they do? At least you'll be able to engage them in some fascinating conversation.

POOP! You now poop solid turds like an adult. It's gross. Also, it doesn't happen everyday which upsets me even though I know it's perfectly normal. I find myself sniffing your butt like 10 times a day hoping for that familiar, and quite unpleasant, smell and actually feeling bitter disappointment when you smell pretty and fresh. This is how far I have fallen. I'm literally one turd away from wearing mom-jeans and joining the PTA.

DADA! You still say "Dada" five million times a day and have only said "Mama" twice. Both times by complete accident and it was probably more like "Baba" with a silent "b".

TEETH! Last but not least, the most exciting development this month, and it actually happened just days after you turned seven months but I can't wait until next month to spread the word. You have teeth! Two of them, on the bottom, they came through on the same day and they are sooo cute. You have yet to bite my nipple off with them and for that I thank you.

I also thank you for giving me the most incredible seven months. I'm so in love, I'm so in awe, I'm so lucky to have you in my life. You are amazing. I love you.


Mommy

Happy Birthday To You: 5 Months Old

So this is a little late, considering that she's going to be 6 months old in a couple of days, but to make up for my tardiness, I'm giving you her "5 month" photo in video format. This way you can see what really happens when I try to take the monthly photographs. Notice the ample coaxing involved, in this case by multiple people. Notice also that the first thing she does is shove the card into her mouth, even though it has just being lying on the dog-hair covered floor of the cottage for a few days. Finally, notice that when she's holding the card up it is always covering her face and when she is holding it down it's always so that you can't see what's on it. It really is quite an ordeal but I'm loving the results regardless of how hard they are to come by. Thanks again Auntie Scarb for passing along this awesome tradition to us!

Since You've Been Gone

Yeah, okay, it's me whose been gone. This song title crap I've gotten myself into means I need to take a little poetic license now and then. Bare with me.

Bella and I just returned from two weeks at the cottage. While we were gone my baby turned five months old. I do not think that it's over-dramatizing things by saying that these past two weeks have been like a dream come true for me. For many years now I have longed for the summer that I am living right now. At home with my beautiful baby, all the time in the world to make the most of hot lazy days. And these past two weeks did not disappoint. It was the perfect blend of family time, visits with friends and alone time for me and Bella.

I think that my daughter and I learned a lot about each other these past couple weeks. Without the distractions of city life and daily household chores. Without the hurried evenings of trying to juggle the gym, dinner, phone calls, visits from people, etc., Bella and I were able to just be. Just be together. It was precious and I did not take a single moment of it for granted.

You see, this past month my sweet babe has really discovered her independence. She has started to push me away just a little bit instead of always snuggling in close. Her feedings have become a little more of a struggle, as she now realizes that there is more to the world than just Mommy. Instead of simply settling in and only having eyes for me as she eats, she cranes her head around at random voices and sounds. She loses patience and pulls away from me as if to say, "I'm hungry, yes, but this whole 'facing in' business is really becoming a drag."

Rather than wanting to be in my arms at all times, she often prefers to be left alone. Even at bedtime. She strains and writhes in my arms, fussing and crying until I give in and lay her down alone, with only her blankie and her Blabla, her new security items, which have replaced my own arms and heartbeat as her favourite way to be soothed.

While I know that this independence is something to be very proud of, it means that my daughter is secure and well adjusted and that her father and I are doing a good job, I can't help but let it tear away at my heartstrings. It is just going by so fast and, as Crown said to me last night, "Before you know it she'll be off to college." Gulp.

Another sign of her new-found independence (or maybe I should say mine?) is that since we returned to the city Bella has been sleeping in her own room. I know that for many people, five months is rather late to make this transition, but for me it's come up much too fast. I know that she has been ready for some time now and that it's me who wasn't ready. And you know what? I'm still not. But I do think that it's the right decision and she has taken to it like nobody's business. Sunday was the first night since the day she was born that I slept in a room without her. It was hard and I hated it but at the same time I am just so proud of my little person.

There are a million other "firsts" that have happened this past month, below are some photos to hold you over until I get around to posting her "five month" photo and update:

The art of toe sucking:


The art of sun-bathing:


The art of sharing a narrow lounger with another squirming infant (in this case, her BFF Livvie):


And last but not least, her very first swim (yes, I was a little more into it than she was):