My place
I just stumbled across your blog, she writes. We’ve been here in this NICU for three months with our baby, and you write about the way we feel, in this hell.
Her words on the screen stare out at me and I am instantly humbled. Because, you see, I’d just been stealing a few moments with email and such, sitting here with a slice of toasted cinnamon brioche with too much butter and a piping hot mug of tea. And Ben is complaining in his bassinette, threatening imminent needfulness.
And I think to myself just a few more minutes… I haven’t been able to put him down all morning… there’s so much I need to get done…
Her message shatters this growing oblivion, brings me back to that desperate hole when I thought if only I could hear them cry through all this intervention, if only I could feel them pawing at me, to have them need me hungrily, to need skin and warmth and rocking in a safe place that belongs to us… I would sell my soul.
Thank you, Lisa.
Love and strength to you as you’re initiated into this unfortunate sisterhood. Even though you don’t believe it now, and even if you feel it shouldn’t, life will be some version of normal once again.
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The day I went into labour our contractor had broken ground on an addition of two bedrooms. Since then — since early labour, a crash c-section, two babies, a NICU stay, then one baby, then a mumps scare (don’t even ask) and now a newborn — we’ve finished the addition, replaced all the windows, gutted the kitchen, tore up and replaced all the floors, built an office, knocked down a few walls, stripped off the godforsaken exterior vinyl in favour of wooden clapboard… basically rebuilt the house. Much of it done DIY by the royal ‘us’ (Justin and my dad). And I’m working again.
And in other related news, I’m still married.
You don’t know your true capacity for upheaval until it’s tested.
In the hospital I said “let’s paint it pumpkin” in a cranky fit of anti-genericism and here we are now, living happily in a house that is ORANGE! because when you live in an ORANGE! house it’s not only invigorating but entertaining to watch all the mint-green and baby-blue and porridge-coloured retirees walk past with their golden retrievers and their tilley hats and their dropped jaws.
So now when we give directions to our ORANGE! house I say politely you just take a left at the cove then stay left at the fork in the road and then I take out the megaphone to say …THEN WATCH FOR THE ORANGE! HOUSE. THAT’S US.
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If I have to look at one more piece of paper, fill out one more form with NAME OF DECEASED: LIAM STEWART INGLIS printed on the top, I’m going on strike. Words I cannot even utter for what they refer to, like cremation, taunt me in certificate form, swing back and knock me between the eyes like boomerangs. Insult after insult in triplicate, injustice that demands bureaucratic ownership.
As his beloved twin sprawls-eagle on my chest like a dog with a bone, pinning me to the couch on this foggy afternoon, I am in my place.
sweetsalty kate
53 Comments
Reader Comments (53)
I think of you often.
as for the forms...funny, for me, in our different circumstances, i clung to them at first. at least they were a chance to see his name, acknowledge him, acknowledge that i'd had a child. but now, now that i have a normal...it hurts to see those words in such close proximity to a name i loved and chose with such care and hope.
to Lisa...i hope that normal brings peace, in time.
Thank you.
Sorry about all the bureaucratic BS you are dealing with.
Your posts always make me want to be a better mom....I was begging mine to go to sleep earlier (in my head). Now I can't wait for them to wake up.
Much love,ashley
We were in Parrsboro awhile back, and the misty afternoon picked me up and shook me, reminded me of why I should love it out here. Your backyard, your pumpkin house (I heart you even more now!) your beloved on your heart-the perfect world we glimpsed as we drove through the blueberry hills and fog. The perfect world Liam swirls in.
Can you send Justin to my house though? I have a deck to rebuild and a roof to do...
Nice back yard as well.
But I have to say I giggled and wanted to compliment you on your use of all-caps and an explanation point.Something so simple rocked my world today.And I really needed it.Thanks, Kate.....See? You give so much to others in your trying times ;)
I saw the quadruplets born on the news, and they were in the NICU, and just seeing it made me cry.
I think about you when I think about our NICU stay, because I read about it first from you, and then experienced it.
I'm glad you're doing so well with Ben and work and your house and your husband. I wish you all of the best. You deserve it.
So true. Thanks for the reminder.
And I'm diggin that organge.
brilliant...a great way to break out of normalacy. i love it.
To your reader, Lisa - I am so sorry. Surely this blog will bring you comfort and strength to you in your healing and moving forward. (Hugs)
And onto your ORANGE! house; it is super cool, and so warm and comfy feeling, just the corner of it you let us peek at. It reminds me of what a vanilla candle would smell like. Love that. Thank you, thank you for letting us see a glimpse. Congrats on having your home renovations complete. My husband and I do most work around here ourselves and the sheer feeling of accomplishment when all is said and done is great. Enjoy!
Do get some time for yourself amidst it all -
A funny aside: we were at our city's Irish Festival last night. It's my very favorite of all times; I look forward to it every year. Anyway, we passed by a booth about traveling to Nova Scotia. We stopped on in and chatted with a nice girl from Amherst. I think we want to take a trip there next fall; my husband and I are due for a solo vacation, and we want something cultural (Celtic! Yay!) and outdoorsy. It sounds like an awesome place. I have five magazine-length brochures to read up on tonight.
I think you are a lucky gal, indeed, to have a pumpkin abode and two healthy little guys, a wonderful and handy husband and family nearby. It puts things in perspective, of course, because all you have endured in the past few months is heavy, heavy life experience. But as Lisa helped us realize in her brief words, there is much to be thankful for, all around us, for all of us.
Cheers - have a great night -
Loving the orange.
YAY for ORANGE!
Strength to Lisa - and to you!
Maybe all the bureacratic insensitive paperwork should be ritually burned, on a fire, in the backyard, with plenty of Halloween-like cut-out pumpkins with candles everywhere around, and pumpkin soup and pumpkin pie for dinner... ;)
congratulations on getting your remodeling done, frankly i'm amazed! you husband and dad must be real a** kickers ;)
Let us know how things go, will you? And I'm so glad that you wrote through it.
Who not only rocks.. but kicks! Does it make any difference that for every antiseptic LSI on the forms there are 500 hearts of your readers remembering him when a drop of heavy rain makes them pause and listen for him.. Or a ray of sun reminds us of your words.. or the wind makes me ( and them ) think of how you said he travels now.. sprite-like and mama-wise
Making me everyday work through the moments with respect if not unfettered joy of this world.
(In that pumpkin shell may they keep you very well, dearheart. If they're serving cinnamon brioche sounds like pretty good.)
I bought a book for Nicole to read when she's older called "Always My Twin." http://www.trafford.com/05-0937
Here's the book description:
Always My Twin , for young children who have experienced the death of their twin sibling, is a book for any child whose twin died before birth, after birth or as a young child. The story is based on the author's own experience of losing a newborn twin daughter in 2002. The book tells the story through the eyes of a young girl whose twin sister dies shortly after their births. She begins her story with sharing the womb with her twin, the joy of her family anticipating the arrival of twins, the family's pain of losing one of their precious babies, and her own expressions of grief for her twin's death. The surviving twin also shares with the audience the precious ways in which she and her family remember her twin throughout the year. Included are interactive pages for the reader to respond to with pictures, identifying feelings and providing family information."
Ben might like this book when he gets older.
Love the orange! We had an orange bathroom the exact same color.
that you are still married, through all of this. You go.
that your house is orange. Love that color. I once had a YELLOW! house and it was my pride.
that you have your sweet baby on your chest, where all sweet ones belong.
It's kind of like meeting a man and thinking, I could have dated him- heck, even like him a LOT, but here I am in my real life- and it's ok. So there are people out there in the world I will never really meet in person, but maybe know through their writing, or loosely though work, or whatever... and I think that gal could be my friend if we lived closer, had more time, whatever... but we don't.
I just wanted to say thanks for making the world smaller.
i remember that between-the-eyes boomerang ... three weeks after my mom died during her bypass operation, the hospital bill arrived. addressed to her. her name was on the letter. i hadn’t expected letters of condolence from that hospital, but i thought they would have had the sense to address this letter to my father. i stared at that hospital bill, ridiculously high figures, addressed to the person i had loved, who had died, and couldn’t believe it.
I love it for your house, but I can't imagine it on my Vancouver special...
I have (almost) two-year old twins and when I read your posts I feel guilt. I carried my babies to term and although I didn’t “deliver” them, they were completely and utterly healthy as each was extracted from the slice in my gut: 7.8 and 6.10-pound welter weight girls.
But beyond the guilt, I take something more sinister from you. I’m glad your story is not mine. And when I resent them, almost hate their whining and clinging, I read your cautionary tale. To not have them would be worse than having them.
My favorite color is orange.