The Novelty Of It All

Sometimes I miss being the girl who just lost her baby. That sounds crazy and wrong, and hopefully I will be able to explain myself. I don't miss the suffocating feeling or the endless, heavy sobbing. I don't miss the anxiety and fear of facing the outside world and I don't miss the torture I put myself through with all the "what if's." But I miss that the gravity of the situation was so very real. So heartbreaking. So unfathomable. Unfathomable. Even the word brings me right back to when we lost him. We had received a care package from a good friend's parents (Ashley - it was from your folks). In the card she wrote "the depth of your grief is unfathomable" and I appreciated it. I appreciated that she understood that it was something so heartbreaking it couldn't be understood. I guess I miss the outpouring of support and love right after you lose a baby. Ironically you can't appreciate it at the time, at least not fully. And I don't mean to say that I don't have support now, over two years later - because I do and I know that I always will. And I don't want this to come off as a pity party where I fish for words of love and well wishes. It's just that in the summer of 2010 Cale Harrison Hidalgo was born. And he was talked about. And he was prayed for. And he was loved. So very loved.

He always will be - I know this. But it's just different now. Cale was news then. And now. . .well now, there's no new news to share. He's still dead. He still is a heartbreaking story, only most hearts (my own included) have grown bigger and "healed" in some way.

I enjoy getting to share pictures and updates of Finley. I enjoy that there is always something "new" to share. I pray there always will be. Last night Miles was commenting on how crazy it is that Finley just walks everywhere. That it's almost old news. It was big news at the time, but now - well now that's just what he does. He eats lots of the food we eat and he climbs on our furniture and gets haircuts and cuts teeth and does all these things that at one point were new. It was exciting - the novelty of the new things he was doing. But it wears off in a way. Like, I'm not super excited that he's crawling because well, he isn't anymore. Or I'm not crazy impressed that he's sitting up because that's something he's done for a long time now. But . . .he is alive! And the novelty of that will never wear off. Here he is approaching 15 months and I'm still shocked that he is here. That he is doing all these old "news things." But he is. He's here and he's ours and we are just so.very.lucky.

And maybe that's why I miss having just lost Cale. Because the shock of his death hasn't worn off to me. I can run errands and see little boys around his should be age and not have a panic attack. I can laugh and have fun and do normal things. But I am still forever shocked that he didn't make it. That his story is what it is. I guess just as the novelty of Finn's 'aliveness' hasn't worn off, neither has the 'deadness' of Cale.

Sometimes I replay all that happened with Cale. I relive my pregnancy with him and his delivery. I search the past for stories or memories that I've forgotten or haven't yet shared. Because I want there to be something new for him - even two years after his passing. I guess this his how I parent him. This is how I try for him to have a future even though that's impossible.

Before I started typing all this I got a little chilly. (long ago Miles and I made a deal that he can control the temperature settings and I would control the decor of the house. Good deal I think - I just bundle up a lot.) Anyway, I went to go get a sweatshirt and this is the one I grabbed. And it made me smile because of the memories and because it's a part of Cale's story that I haven't shared. At least not with many . . . .

Miles' Uncle is a NYC Cop, hence NYPD

After we learned that Cale's heart had stopped beating, Miles never left the hospital. His brother Daren was still stationed at Fort Benning at the time and he came to the hospital a few times that day/night. I'll never forget the first time he walked in the room. Miles had met him out in the waiting room first. He opened the door for Daren and in he walked. Shaking his head and crying. It was if he was trying to say "I'm so sorry" but he was too shaken up to get any words out. He just walked over and I held out my arms for a hug. And we hugged and cried and I told him it was ok. I didn't mean that what had happened was ok, I meant that it's ok that he was reacting the way he did. I meant that I would somehow come out of this and that somehow we would be ok.

When Daren was killed Miles gave his eulogy. In it he mentioned how heartfelt Daren's reaction to our loss was:

"When my wife Caroline and I lost our son, Daren was the first person to show up at the hospital.  He was still covered in sweat and absolutely nasty from playing racquetball, but he held me and we cried together until we couldn't cry anymore.  I remember talking to my wife about it - it was like Daren had lost a son, the depths of his empathy and heartfelt emotions were so real and so tangible.  If you knew Daren, he always wore his emotions on his sleeve and poured his heart into everything he did." (full eulogy here)

. . . . . . .

I tried to get some sleep while we waited for Cale to be born, but would wake up either crying or because of a painful contraction. I remember waking up once and hearing Miles and Daren talking. I don't know how long he had been there - it was at least his second time back at the hospital and he had brought Miles some clothes. Miles asked for a jacket or something because it was cold in the room. Daren had brought him the navy sweatshirt.

And on the night of June 28, 2010 and the wee hours of the morning the next day, Miles held his first born son wearing that navy NYPD sweatshirt. He walked around the room with Cale coddled in his arms, his tiny little head full of dark brown hair, resting on his Daddy's arm.

At some point Miles' returned the clothes he borrowed to Daren. And we didn't think much about it. But then Daren was killed and all his belongings were sent back to his parents, I wondered about that sweatshirt. I wondered if Daren still had it and if it had made it back with the rest of his things. Miles told his Mom to be on the lookout for it, and sure enough she found it. She mailed it to us and it showed up almost two years to the day after Miles' last wore it, holding his son.

. . . . . . .

As I was getting ready to wrap this post up (because I think it's plenty long enough - congrats if you've read this far!) Finn woke up. He doesn't usually wake up after he's gone to sleep, but woke up crying and stood up in his crib. So I walked in and picked him up. We sat in the chair and rocked. I was wearing the navy sweatshirt - that his brother once touched. And I just started crying. Tears of sadness and tears of joy - all one in the same. Loving a sweet moment with my second son, and still desperately missing my first. The novelty of their lives still unfathomable.

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Labor Day Weekend

We had an all-American, stereotypical Labor Day Weekend.

Started out with some college football. . .

 Arizona (for my sister and Dad), Wisconsin (for Miles' brother Jared), and Iowa (for my mom)

Can you tell we wish we had a normal college experience?

. . . .followed by a BBQ at some friends:

mother of the year

 . . .and a picnic in the park in Austin . . .

 Come on buddy, let's go play frisbee.

. . .and a dip in Barton Springs

 Why yes, that is my new swimsuit cover up from Target :) 

  . . .and of course some light reading:

At this rate, he'll know it all by age 3!

All in all, a fabulous weekend. Hope yours was too!

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Like a Boss

Miles took command of a company yesterday. (Which for anyone not familiar with the Army, that basically means he is in charge of about 120 Soldiers and it's something good (and necessary) to do in order to progress in your career.)

The good news - well aside from the fact that Company Command was the one job that Miles knew he wanted to do at some point in the Army, is that there is no deployment to Afghanistan on the horizon. He may go elsewhere, but it's still up in the air and I'm really liking the fact that my husband has been HOME for over a year now.

The bad news - it's super busy. Like, literally today he came home (at 6:30) for dinner and had to go back at 9pm for simulator training and won't get home until 1am or so. But such is life and we were expecting this, and at the end of the day I go back to being reminded of how awesome it is that he is even home (most of the time) and not in harms way. So lots to be grateful for (just please remind me of this when I start complaining again).

Anyway, here are a few pictures from the ceremony. Before you make fun of his silly hat - he has to gets to wear a stetson because he is in a Cavalry unit (although he is in command of an Infanty company) . . . translation - the Army really digs on heritage and Ft. Hood is all about the cavalry (there is even still a horse cavalry detachment here).  But no, this does not mean that he got assigned a horse to go along with the new job - although that would have been pretty sweet.

Miles' dad flew in from WI for the ceremony.

Taking the guidon. 

Passing the guidon to his new First Sergeant. Who happens to be a short Hispanic guy. How apropos egh?

Officially in charge

Miles and his buddies Kyle and Greg (who are going to teach History at West Point in a couple years!)

Very proud of this guy. I like him better without the silly hat.

It was kind of nice that he took command yesterday. August 28th just seems to be a good day. It's an especially good baby day. Yesterday my friend Heidi welcomed baby Annabelle, a girl I recently met here in Texas had a little boy, and it was my favorite little red head's first birthday! Happy birthday to all these sweet babies. 

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Finn Man

Our sweet little Finn is just that . . . little. I mean it really shouldn't come as a surprise considering that Miles and I aren't exactly giants. But poor ole Finn has always been at the bottom of the growth chart. And really I shouldn't even say "poor ole Finn" because the kid is growing on a nice healthy curve for HIM - just maybe not for your average baby. He has always been teetering around the 5th percentile. I think around two months he was maybe in the 25th percentile, but that was the "biggest" he ever was in comparison.

And honestly, for a long time I loved the fact that he was little because he still felt like a baby and I felt like I could pretend he still was. But now . . . now I'm seeing more and more that my baby is gone and has been replaced with a high energy toddler.

Have you ever seen this? Umm, it's totally true.

Really it should just say "mother" because I am convinced that Finn gets all his energy from Miles. The little monster is all over the place. He loves climbing all over the couch (mostly to get the remote) and if there is something in his way he will figure a way around (or through) it. Here's a couple videos of him getting on and off the couch.

He seems to have the most energy before bed. I don't know if it's just a boy thing or what, but really he is on the go every waking moment. Take tonight for example - grandpa Hidalgo is in town visiting and Mr. Finn just hand walked DVDs over to him one at a time off the shelf. He brought him 32 DVDs! Fortunately he still naps and sleeps like a champ and I usually try desperately to sneak in a few snuggles post nap when he's still mellow, but it only takes maybe two minutes before he wants to just start running around again. Also, the kid really is smart. Granted, I'm biased, but really - I think my boy is brilliant. Just the other day I opened the washer and dryer and he walked right up to the washer, grabbed some clothes and put them in the dryer. Swoon - a man after my own heart right? When I say "Where is Mama's nose?" he will point to my nose. And if I say "tongue" he immediately sticks his out (which may not be as cute in a couple years with some attitude behind it).

14 months if a fun, but challenging age. He doesn't like being told no and not getting his way and there are lots of pitiful, fake cries in the house of late. But he is also becoming this adorable and independent little man and it's so fun to see him learn and figure things out.

You may be little kiddo, but you is smart. And Mama sure loves you.

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Dog Shaming

Today Finn and I went to story time at the library. I always tell Roscoe to be a good dog when I leave and the first thing I say whenever I come back is "were you a good dog?". Well today, he was NOT a good dog. Not at all. As I walked in I first noticed Finn's sippy cup on the ground. I was a little annoyed because he's never taken any interest in Finn's bottles or cups before yet I knew he had to have knocked it over and the only way to do that would have been to jump on the counter.

Once I got closer I saw that the lid was nicely chewed up and also discolored. About two seconds later I look further into the family room and find a mess all over the carpet. A few weeks ago I ordered Finn some Wee Can Too art supplies. I ordered a kit that came with three different powders you mix with water so kids can finger paint, as well as a chalk stick and a crayon. All the products are made with all organic edible ingredients so when your kid sticks his hands in his mouth while making his masterpiece, you don't have to freak out.

But you are entitled to freak out when your dog decides to make artwork on your family room carpet. But I was calm and collected and cleaned up the mess. And by "calm and collected" I mean I took a deep breath before yelling at Roscoe and calling him mean names I probably shouldn't have said in front of Finn. I also may or may not have thrown a sippy cup at him. Not one of my better moments I'll admit, but it was a weak throw at least. Anyway, I was too angry to take a picture of his mess, but here is what's left of Finn's art pack:

 The third powder was coloring my carpet a nice shade of hunter green.

After cleaning up the mess and shampooing the carpet, I calmed down and let Roscoe in from the backyard. I told him I wasn't in any mood to talk to him yet, but he could at least come inside.

I was putzing around on the computer while Finn was napping and found this hilarious site called Dog shaming. I thought it was so fitting for the days' events and emailed the link to a few of my dog-lover friends. Plus it was nice to get a good laugh and remind myself that other people have love-hate relationships with their dogs too.

So mess cleaned up, you can't even see where it was on the carpet, silly website put me in a better mood . . . problem solved right?

WRONG.

After nap time and lunch I needed to go out and run a few errands. I had barricaded the area of the carpet that had just been shampooed and left the house for a bit, but not before pointing my finger sternly at Roscoe and saying "Be a good dog!" in a very serious and threatening tone.

Yet when I came home I find an empty and chewed up jar of puffs on the ground! Seriously Roscoe!? Did you NOT just remember me screaming at you a few hours ago?!

I had just gotten an email from my friend Brooke, who has had her fair share of dog stories, and she said it's not too late to submit Roscoe's picture to the Dog shaming site. And, thanks to his latest shenanigans, I now could capture an in-the-moment picture. I can't decide which one to submit though - thoughts?

A:

"Hey, where did all my puffs go?" 

(you'll also notice the guilty party couldn't even look me in the eye)

or B:

Ugh. At least this wasn't messy to clean up. I really do love my dog and we will always be a dog owning family, but sometimes I just want to kill him.

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