An Attitude of Gratitude

I realize that is one of the cheesier sayings on Planet Earth, but when it comes to being Gracie's mom that is as close to a description as I can get.

I remember holding a friend's baby when I was pregnant with Gracie, and of course this wasn't too long after Rip died.  I turned to my friend and asked, "can you believe that you get to keep her?"  My poor friend looked kind of shocked and said something to the affect of they were of course thrilled to have their baby.  It was one of those awkward moments as a baby loss mama where you know you've said the- not wrong thing- but not the thing that someone who hasn't lost a baby would have said.

I have no doubt that mama was just beside herself that she got to keep her baby, it just hadn't occurred to her that she wouldn't.

But sometimes when I hold Gracie I still get that rush of pure joy that she is MINE.  It's an attitude of gratitude.

I will be doing something like digging my shoes out of my closet and out of nowhere I will hear little feet running towards me and chubby little hands being thrown around my neck and WHOOSH there it is....sometimes I just can't believe my luck.  This little person gets to stay with me and I am so thankful.

I don't know if it will always be this way, if when she is thirteen and sassy or sixteen and (god forbid) acting trashy, I will feel so completely thankful.  I think so.  Its one more thing that knowing the alternative has given to me, as cheesy as it may be, an attitude of gratitude.

Gracie, Lately

Gracie, lately,

 developed a sense of fashion all of her own

  started to be more in tune with nature

found her inner princess

then found, not unlike the Duchess of Cambridge, the paparazzi can get to even the poshest of princesses

but she always has time for her people (and mama needs to do something with those crow's feet)

She managed to keep her sense of humor and style intact

and generally remains the sweetest, best thing her parents could ask for!

Life as we know it

I am a better mother because I lost Rip.

Let me be very clear here, the price was way too high.

Let me also be very clear that I said better, not perfect.

But I know I am better than I would have been.  It's something I think about every day, almost as often as I miss my son.

Patience is not something I was given, I am not someone who knows how to naturally "stop and smell the roses".

And yet, with Gracie, I do.

I almost always have an extra five, ten, thirty minutes to stop and smell roses or read a book five million times or rock her back to sleep for the tenth time.

Sometimes I am so tired when I get home from work that I would do anything just to lie down for five minutes but instead I have a dance party in the kitchen because all I can think is that there is a mother somewhere who would literally give ANYTHING to be having a dance party with her baby right that moment.  I am that mom.

 I am also that mom who is so thankful for the crazy baby rocking out right in front of her.

The baby whose happiest moments in the world are when she gets home from school and eats fruit snacks and dances in the kitchen with her mama.

Life is so hard and yet so very good.

He Really Did

I was just sitting at my desk this morning at work, you know, working, and half listening to some Pandora in the background.

By the way, Pandora is such a great invention, isn't it?

Anyway, it suddenly came into my consciousness that Rascal Flatt's Bless the Broken Road was on the radio.  All of the sudden I am sitting here with tears just leaking down my face.

This was Rip and my song while I was in the hospital.  I have the clearest memory of listening to this song while I was pumping breast milk at the Medical University after he was born.  It's funny how music can bring back all of those feelings, bring you right back to those moments.

But the thing is, even though I am sitting here missing that baby and would do anything to go back to that room and change the outcome, God really did bless the road that led me there and here.  I have been blessed, and continue to be blessed.  And I think that is part of what brings those stinging tears to my eyes, because the words are true.

That God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you, Rip Harris.

Those Summer Nights

The past weekend was as close to perfect for an eighteen month old as it gets in my books.

Friday night, Gracie went out to dinner at one of her favorite restaurants (it has real, live fish!) with her parents, grandmother, and uncle.  Afterwards, she got ice cream and got to run around with chocolate all over her face until well past her bedtime.

Saturday, her daddy took her to the beach with friends in the morning while her mama attended a baby shower.  Later, she went on a trip to get a new car seat with her mama and her daddy.  She then took a two and a half hour nap in her old car seat (in the cool, air conditioned house) while her mama and daddy sweated themselves to death installing her new car seat.  Rested and fresh as a daisy, off she went to a cookout at her best buds house where she ran around in the warm summer night with other laughing, screaming kids until they could literally no longer keep their eyes open.

Sunday morning brought doughnuts (Publix rivals Krispy Kreme y'all, no joke) and another trip to the beach with just Mama and Daddy.  Another nap, a walk around the neighborhood, some bubbles in the front yard and a dinner that involved mac and cheese rounded out the day.

This all just makes me so, so happy on many levels.  Getting to the deepest one, when we lost Rip and I got pregnant with Gracie I was so worried about what kind of childhood she would have...would she grow up in a house of sadness?  Moving up a level, as a working mom, I always wonder if Gracie is missing something by my not being with her all day every day. On the surface level, what about all those worries we have as adults...the bills to pay, the doctors appointments to book, the little things that take up waaay too much head space, are they somehow going to take away from the carefree childhood  that Gracie deserves?

But looking back on this weekend, I realized that I can stop (or at least try to stop) worrying about those things.  All of those great memories I have from my childhood, those summer nights where I stayed up too late shrieking with laughter in somebody's backyard, those are the same memories that Gracie will have, too. I'm sure of it.

And what's more, despite the fact that as an adult you don't have quite the same carefree-ness you did as a child...well, you get to drink wine and laugh with your friends while your kids run around in the backyard.  I woke up with a smile on my face Monday morning, wishing I could bottle up the whole weekend.  It's not always this good, but when it is... it can be pretty great.

Worth the Wait

I may have had to wait 18 months...three years...a lifetime, to hear it...

But it was sooooo worth the wait.

Ba-Ba and Gee-Gee forever.

(Also please excuse my nasty shoes and nasty bathroom)

For this child...

I prayed.