The Perfect Passport Photo

My friend Rachel wrote me yesterday to tell me she'd been catching up on my blog.  She commented on the photos of Mo and Ted visiting Maxie and on the photos of what a trendsetter Mo is with his signature move.  Then she mentioned that she saw Mo was getting a passport.  She wondered where we were going and then warned us that if we are going to Costa Rica, we should watch for riptides.  (She's right.  Our beach can have a MAJOR undertow.)

But anyway, I didn't remember writing about the passport here.  "Are you psychic?", I wrote back (hopefully).  "No.  Ha ha.  I am not psychic.  Your mom posted Mo's Passport photo on her Facebook page."

If you are Facebook friends with my mom, you already have seen the final product.  (Her name is Susan Chadney & you should "friend" her.  She is also an amazing LA Real Estate Agent - you should also work with her to sell or buy your next home)

We are taking Mo to Costa Rica with us to celebrate my 40th birthday.  Or rather, my 40th birthday is an excuse to go back to Costa Rica - where we haven't been since we went last with Max.  After we lost Max, I couldn't imagine ever going back to this place that had brought me so much happiness through the years.  To do so felt like it would be a betrayal of Max.  Enjoying life without him is still something I struggle with daily.  However, It suddenly occurred to me a few months ago that I was ready and that to be able to sit in our spot with Mo would be tremendously healing for me.  I also think it is an important way to honor Maxie's memory.  So that is the plan - Me, Mo, Teddy, my mom, Auntie Beth, Cousin Sadie, Prima Sharon, my Auntie Alison, Uncle Danny, maybe Uncle Paul (my brother, not MY uncle), and a handful of close friends will head down to CR in November.  I can't wait!

One thing that I had completely spaced on though was getting Mo his Passport until my mom reminded me about it last weekend at Mo's birthday party.  Oops.  Getting Maxie's passport was no easy task....especially the taking of the passport photo.  Just getting him to keep his eyes open long enough to take the photo was the challenge.  He was only a week or two old.  I figured getting Mo's photo would be much easier.

No, it wasn't.

I took him to a mailbox store that also does passport photos.  The guy helping us could not grasp the concept that Mo does not understand directions (or English for that matter) and he kept telling him to "hold still".  "He doesn't understand you", I'd say.  Then he'd give me a weird look as if he couldn't understand how my child wouldn't understand his simple directions.  Meanwhile, we'd put Mo down in front of the white wall and he'd immediately start crawling away.  This went on for at least ten minutes before I thanked the guy for his time and left.  It wasn't happening.

"I don't need no lousy mailbox store for passport photos!  I can do this!", I thought and promptly sat Mo down in front of the white wall of our kitchen to start the photo shoot.

It started off ok:

But for a passport photo, it needs to be straight on, both ears showing, no shadows, perfect proportions.  It is no joke.  Plus, he was crawling away again after a few seconds.

Then I had the brilliant idea of putting him in the bumbo chair.  He still fits because he is kind of a skinny guy:

At this point, he'd had enough of me.

Between me and the guy at the photo place, this had been going on for over an hour and a half.  So, I decided to put him down for a nap and try again when he woke up.

While he was sleeping, I set up my studio - I hung a white sheet off the back of the couch, stuck the bumbo in front of it and got my fancy camera ready.  I would NOT give up.

This is what I was afraid of!  Sleepy Mo loves to suck those fingers.

Usually I am a big fan of "Cover it up!", but not today!

And then - just when I thought that I had set an impossible task  - it happened!

The PERFECT passport photo!!!!!  

Let's just hope that the Passport agency agrees because I am hoping to not have to do this again for a while.  At least - with Mo!

A Compassionate Listener

A colleague called me yesterday to ask a question about a grant.  "How are you?", she asked.  "I'm ok" (my usual response to this question).  "How are YOU?", I asked (Ted and I would both WAY rather have people tell us about them these days then to try to find the words to tell them how we are - how we are is much too complicated for small talk).

I really love this colleague.  She has always been someone that I have gotten along with well and connected to.  She is honest and real and I just like her.  Since losing Maxie, she has called and emailed many, many times just to check in with me.  She is a caring and compassionate person.

When I asked how she was doing, she paused.  She then asked me how I feel when someone who hasn't experienced tragedy and isn't experiencing anything life altering tells me that they are having a crappy day.  You know?  Just a regular sort of crappy day.  She apologized for asking, thinking it might offend me, but she just really wanted to know.

I wasn't offended.  Just the opposite.  It was very thoughtful of her to ask in my opinion.  I think it is a brilliant question and one that I almost can't believe I haven't really addressed here before.  It is something that I wonder about myself ALL of the time.  How come with some people there is no problem "too small" for me to listen and empathize with and with other people I literally want to plug my ears and scream "LALALALALALA"?

The truth is that it depends on who is complaining to me about their crappy day.  Just because I've been through a horrible loss doesn't mean that I can't remember a plain old crappy day - though one of the small "blessings" of this loss is that small things don't really stress me out all that much anymore.  I used to stay up all night worrying about something someone on my board said to me in a meeting, or whether an email I sent had the right tone, or when I would find the time to do certain important things.  I don't anymore.  My bad days really all center around not having Maxie here with me.

That being said, I know that people have less dramatic things that upset them.  I know that things that seem small to me can genuinely feel very big to the people experiencing them and I don't want to diminish those things or have a lack of compassion for them.  I try to keep perspective about the fact that most people I know have not lost a child and that their worries are probably a little less existential than mine.  I have compassion.

When someone I love, or even just like, who has shown us compassion, who has stuck by my side, with whom there is mutual respect, tells me that they are having a crappy day, I will generally empathize.  Crappy days are crappy days and they are part of life and everyone deserves to just feel crappy from time to time.

In the first year after Max died, I admit it - I just didn't have the stamina to listen to people talk about the "hardships" of normal life - job problems, breastfeeding issues, how hard it is to take care of multiple children, the stress of closing escrow on their new home.  I STILL would sell my soul to have these be my big problems, but I understand that they are real and that for the person experiencing them, life can feel chaotic.  It wasn't that I genuinely didn't care - it was just that the trauma had numbed me from feeling compassion for anything less than death.  There are times when I still feel like the person with the "problems" isn't being incredibly sensitive when choosing the "issues" that they cry about to me.  That's ok though, we all do that from time to time.

As my trauma has "normalized" - my heart has opened.  I want to be there for the people who have been there for me and for those who I love. 

That being said, I find myself having less tolerance for those people who haven't shown us any compassion, who told me from the beginning that "everything will be fine" because I "can have more children", who have dismissed our very real anguish because it wasn't comfortable for them.  They deserve to have their crappy days too but I just can't bring myself to be the compassionate listener.  They MUST be able to find a better ear to chew than mine.

I find that the people who are constantly complaining about the really "small things" and unable to appreciate the beauty in their own lives are always the same people who dismiss our loss.  They are the same people who've told me that losing Max was "ok", because now I have Mo.  They are the same people who never ask us how we are doing and have hardly even acknowledged that our child died.  They are the people who pretend that Mo is our first child and that Maxie never existed.  I don't have it in me to sit and compassionately listen to the complaints of the people who expected me to bounce back after my child died.  In fact, if it were up to me, I'd probably remove them from my life entirely.  Sadly, that isn't always an option.

I think if you talked to most of my friends.....the ones that are still in my life, you would hear that I am a compassionate listener.  I DO recognize that work can be super stressful and that for some people, so can having a bunch of people over for dinner.  

I believe I am a compassionate person but I do draw the line.  I think we all need to draw it somewhere.  Treat people as you want to be treated and those people who are deserving of your compassion and respect will treat you back the same way.  If you were one of those people for whom my child dying seemed like no big deal  - I can almost guarantee that most anything stressful happening in your life seems like no big deal to me.

To my caring, empathetic and thoughtful colleague - Please tell me about your crappy day and I promise to be a compassionate listener. 

MaxiMo

A reader of mine from Germany sent me this photo yesterday.  MaxiMo is the name of a German brand baby toys and clothing company.  How funny!  Thank you Ronja!!!!

By the way - you've convinced me.  I stopped trying to get Mo off the bottle.  He's happy - so I'm happy.  Thanks.

Different

My relationships with each of my boys is different, even though they have such similar personalities in so many ways.

I've said many times that when Maxie was about 4 months old, I was giving him a bath and I had a feeling that I'd known him forever.  He was very familiar to me.  More than that - I KNEW him - better than I had ever known anyone before in my whole life.  I figured that this is how all mothers felt about their children.  When we lost him, I lost the person I'd loved most and known best in the whole world.

Mo is more of a mystery to me - he feels to me like new love.  You know that feeling where every little thing is totally new and wonderful?  I'm always surprised by the funny faces he makes, the hilarious sounds, his unique quirks.  I love him equally but our relationship is totally different.

Mo fills part of a space left empty by Max.  I am madly in love with Mo.  He is so very special.  He made me a mother again.  He "normalized" us and made us less scary to others.  He is a very unique boy and I love him wildly.

Max was my first.  He was the greatest love I had ever known up until his birth.  He can never be replaced.  He will always be missed.  As a parent and a human being, I love my children differently, because they are different people.  I don't think it is right to assume that Mo would even want to take the place of Max.  Like all people, I believe that Mo would want to be his own person, not a replacement child for the brother he never met.  And he is his own person.  One that Ted and I each love uniquely.

That is how it should be. 

Babies

People are always excitedly telling me about their pregnancies, or their babies, or their friends babies, or the babies of mutual friends that I haven't seen in decades.  Babies are WONDERFUL!  They are sweet and cozy and loving and innocent.  When you play with them, you talk baby talk and you get to kiss and squeeze them and listen to sweet children's lullabies and other happy music.  They make you feel warm and safe and full of excitement. Babies are the embodiment of love, happiness, trust and loyalty.

My baby experience isn't like your baby experience.  Mine includes the death of my baby.  I know that you know that.....but you don't really think about it when we are talking about babies.  You aren't aware that my insides hurt thinking about babies and how much I miss mine.  You don't realize that I would KILL to be up all night with the baby I lost or what I would give to be in the position most pregnant women are in - unaware of the fact that babies die.  I know you know mine did, but I also know that you KNOW it won't happen to you....and I hope you are right.  I am sure you are but I'd be lying if I didn't say that it crosses my mind that it could happen.

Babies are wonderful.  I love them so much.  I love my babies so much.  I love yours too!  They are amazing.  I guess I just wanted to point out that they strike a chord in my soul.  That when you carelessly talk about the excitement and anticipation of having your baby.  Or, when you talk about the stress that having to take care of your baby causes you....that I am thinking about my baby and how broken my heart is here without him.

They remember him

I love my funny, sweet, smart nieces Sadie, Mandy and Camille so much. Sadie and Mandy were both little when Maxie was born.  Each of them  had such special relationships with him. He was the first cousin for both of them and they were both totally obsessed with him. Mandy followed along my pregnancy, so eager to meet the cousin who was coming. She was one of our first visitors in the hospital.  Sadie came to visit right after Max was born and then really bonded with him in Costa Rica when he was almost four months old, showering him with hugs, kisses and attention. 

I don't really know how much they remember, but they remember that they miss him and love him.  They are never embarrassed to tell me that either, which I love. I love knowing that he is remembered by them. I love that they are too young and totally unashamed of saying his name, asking about him and expressing how sad they are that he isn't with is.  I know he would love them and look up to them so much.

When I am with them, I feel like a little part of him exists in them. Even when they forget someday, I will always remember how much they loved him.  

When we were in Connecticut, Sadie talked a lot about Maxie.  I can tell that she knows we like hearing his name.  She kept saying how much she LOVES Mo and wishes she could "Squish Max into Mo" because she misses him so much.  It made sense to her and it made sense to me too.  I know exactly what she was talking about.

Yesterday we had a West Coast birthday party for Mo and afterwards, we decided to release some balloons.  Mandy wrote messages for Max that were so sweet and heartfelt. I cannot tell you how much I missed having my older little boy in my arms yesterday. 

Trendsetter

Mo's first sleepover

Mo had his first sleepover last night. 

Date: Friday night, August 2, 2013

Location: Grandma's House

Reason: Mommy and Daddy at a raging 40th birthday party

Hours at sleepover: To be determined. He is still there and we are still at home (it's 9:34 am PST)

Conclusions: Awesome! We must do this more often (even though I am MISSING him right NOW!!)

These photos were texted to me by grandma this morning:

Visiting our baby

Friendship

When my ex-fiance and I broke up in 2000, my good friends stuck by my side.  Even though it might have been easier for everyone to cancel their trips and stay at home, almost all of them came with me to Las Vegas for my "bachelorette" party anyway.  Their presence spoke volumes about our friendship.  My friend Joslyn, who wasn't even going to come to the party, changed her plans and came - it seemed even more important to her to stick by my side through my heartbreak than it was to stick by me when everything was good and happy.  I remember sitting at the restaurant dinner table with this wonderful big group of ladies and feeling the power of friendship - because friendship can be powerful.  I felt so lucky to have these people in my life to lean on during what was for me, a very challenging time.  Most of these people are still in my life.  Most of them have been there for me over these past two extremely difficult years as well.  That trip was one of the most memorable experiences of my life.  I will never forget how those ladies came through for me and made me feel so loved and appreciated.

 Dinner in Vegas 2000

Champagne breakfast after a long night of winning at the Craps table

A million dollar donor to the organization I work for has told me the story many times about how years ago, he lost everything, and friends, colleagues and organizations he had given generously to through the years just ditched him.  Those who stuck by his side left an impression.  When he was financially broke, he learned who his friends were.  It's one of the reasons that JNF got a million dollars from him when he rose back to the top again.

I wasn't and am still not always easy to be around.  I am broken and can never be fully repaired.  I am not as fun as I once was and I know that I am scary - what happened to us could happen to anyone and being so close to us is a constant reminder of that.  In the earlier days of my grief, I wouldn't leave my house, I wasn't up for going out - I worried about potentially seeing babies and anyway, the world I once knew was colored black.  Some friends who came to Maxie's funeral and/or shiva checked in once or twice afterwards, never to be heard from again.  Other friends just made me feel bad all of the time, telling me that it was time to get over him, pushing an impossible agenda of recovery way too soon.  There are many I haven't heard from since the loss.  Some of those friends are just starting to emerge, assuming that I am better now and probably easier to be around.  I'd like them to know that I am still broken.  Max is still (and I assume will always) be on my mind constantly.  If you were uncomfortable with me before, you will likely still be.  I am not unforgiving but I'm over the friendship we once had.  You don't need to come back into my life.  I am fine with how things are between us now.  I'm not angry either.  I've just moved on.

You see, to me, friendship is not just about picking a happy person to have good times with - although that is extremely important to me too.  Friendship is about sticking by someone's side even when life is hard - because life will be hard for all of us in varying degrees at some point or another.  Good friends are the family you choose.  They are people that you can lean on and that you expect will lean on you too.  I want the very best for every one of my friends but recognize that they have challenges that they face every day and may not have everything that I want for them or that they want for themselves.  Life can be very disappointing - friendships don't have to be.

I don't really want back the friends I lost when Maxie stopped breathing.  The friendships that endured are stronger than ever and the other ones don't matter anymore.  They are the superficial ones - the people that I will say hello to - that I will "catch up" with - and that I may share a few laughs with - but they aren't the people that I want to move forward with.  They aren't the ones I love and trust.  I wish them well but I know who they are to me now....and that's ok.

Those friends that stuck by me mean more to me today than they ever did.  The ones that kept calling even when I didn't want to talk, that emailed and texted, that dropped off food, that visited with me here at my house when I was up to it, that continue to let me move at my own pace, that recognize I am not the same and don't try and pressure me into being the person I once was, that consistently remind me that they will never forget my sweet Max, that came out of the woodwork after years to tell me that they are so sorry for our loss when others who we saw on a regular basis ran away.  I love them.  SO MUCH.  I LOVE YOU MY DEAR LOVELY FRIENDS.  Thank you.