Take THAT, Mainstream Media!

Have you read Mel’s takedown of The New York Times and their obit of the late, great Dr. Edwards? It’s pretty bad-ass.

The Grey Lady’s coverage of all things infertility is strangely skewed, as we know.

The good news? We don’t have to take it anymore.

Recently, there has been a very welcome influx of books and articles doing their best to demystify infertility and adoption.

Books:

Lori’s book, called The Open-Hearted Way to Open Adoption. came out last week. I’ll be participating in a book tour later this month but here’s a quick preview: this book deserves to be a classic in the parenting genre. Pragmatic and philosophical, it’s a roadmap and a how-to guide in one great book.

Leah’s book Single Infertile Female: Adventures in Love, Life, and Infertility came out this week. I will be reading on the plane to Berlin this week. Here’s the description:

“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage.” That’s how the story goes, right? We all grow up hearing the same fairy tales, and imagining the same futures. But what happens when the future you have always pictured for yourself is ripped away before you ever even get the chance to pursue it?

Pretty gripping right? Leah’s book has been burning up the Amazon charts, and I can’t wait to read it.

In the works: Kathy mentioned on my Too Many Fish to Fry Facebook page that she is working on a memoir about her experience with neonatal loss and secondary infertility. This is much-needed because there is so little out there for those going through secondary infertility. (See the discussion on my FB page for the unique challenges facing those going through secondary infertility over there…)

Non-Infertility Books by Infertility Writers:

Measure of Love, from Melissa Ford. I’m also going to be reading this on the plane to Berlin. I loved her first book Life From Scratch (think Jane Austen for the 21st Century) and this is its sequel.

Minotaur, from April Cross. April just published this book, the first in a proposed series featuring heroine Pricilla Sharp. It sounds intriguing.

Articles:

Did y’all know Keiko is now writing for Disney Baby? She’s been writing about women who have gone through infertility, too, like The Maybe Babies, whose baby was just born after years of heartbreak. Keiko + Disney = a huge win for us.

The Ricki Lake Show blog featured this post by David Vienna about dealing with infertility, which was touching and moving.

And the Boston Globe had a much more fitting obit for Dr. Edwards.

Web:

Kymberli has launched a new site called JUMP! 1000+ Reasons to be Happy! just in time for National Infertility Awareness Week. In fact, my son is one of the “jumpers” featured. I tell the story of how a Slip ‘N Slide created joy for both my son and myself and helped heal my heart after my battle with infertility. There’s lots more stories there too and it’s a really cool project.

And speaking of healing, PAIL just hosted a “Healing Week” which addresses how those parenting after infertility deal with the scars of the past.

Pamela and Keiko participated in a RESOLVE New England project called “A Conversation on Life Beyond” children, which tackled life childfree/childless after infertility.

I’m sure this is just the tip of the iceberg: please feel free to add anything I have missed below, and I’ll be happy to add it to this list.

Kevin Ware, Violence in Sports and Should Kids Be Allowed to Watch?

To say Darcy is a sports fan is to say that War And Peace is a tad long. He hid his mania for all things athletic from me for a while, but it became starkly obvious how much he needed sports in his life when we moved to London and he became obsessed by televised cricket. The most boring and confusing sport in the world.

Sorry, Brits

So, we watch a lot of sports around here. We also watch Bryant Gumbel’s HBO show Real Sports (some of the best investigative journalism in the world, and yes, I am serious) and thanks to that show I am very well aware how incredibly gruesome the head injuries sustained by football players are, and how dire the long-term consequences of said injuries are. I truly think football is not too different than the gladiator games in Rome, and even though I was a cheerleader in high school and come from my own legacy of 49er fans (ahem: my father and brother are only slightly less fanatic than Darcy), I just can’t watch football in good conscience anymore.

On the other hand, I love baseball and have no problem taking the kids to Giants games. There are problems with baseball (steroids) but it’s not an inherently violent sport.

Basketball is more tricky. I don’t love professional basketball. I don’t love the morals some of the main players represent (LeBron James leaving his hometown team for a team with better prospects seemed selfish and I don’t like the veneration of Kobe Bryant) and the game is sort of dull.

However, I LOVE March Madness. The unpredictable nature of the tournament, the underdogs coming from behind and the last minute plays are truly exciting. There isn’t the big money, the players seem to play from the heart just for the glory of being there and making the Sweet Sixteen, Elite Eight, Final Four seems to be the only goal. There’s also usually some compelling human story, and that story (Cinderella or otherwise) seems to reflect on American society.

This year, the biggest story is Kevin Ware and his gruesome injury, his courage after suffering this injury and the team’s determination to mark a victory from such a terrible event.

Normally, our son and Darcy would have been watching the game but we were in New Orleans for a wedding and Darcy began watching the game on the plane instead by himself. I am so glad he did, because what happened next was beyond comprehension.

WARNING!!!!! THIS FOOTAGE IS GRUESOME BEYOND ANYTHING I CAN DESCRIBE. Click at your own risk. I am not exaggerating.

Obviously, the faces of the players said it all. Basketball has a relatively low level of injury compared to other sports, and to see someone take a normal jump and for THAT to happen, well, it was incomprehensible, scary, horrific and your heart went into your throat and all you could think was just immense sympathy for Kevin Ware. His teammates were in tears and apparently some of them actually threw up.

What happened next is just as incomprehensible: Ware, in terrible, horrible pain, called over his teammates on Louisville and asked them to “just win the game, y’all.”

Which they then did, handily defeating powerhouse Duke.

I have been very disturbed about this story all day. I think it’s because as a mother of a son, I worry about sports. About the messages of sports. I know that there are things that benefit boys and men about sports: talking about sports is how they bond. And I think I know why: in the language of sports talk, there is an emotional currency of sorts. You can express your horror safely by telling the tale of Kevin Ware’s injury, you can choke up over the victory of Louisville in Kevin Ware’s name. It’s a safe way to express your emotions to other men.

So I don’t want to take this away from my son (who is already obsessed with baseball cards and the Giants) but I worry.

Do you think sports are too violent? Do you watch sports? Would you let a child watch sports?

New Years Musings

I love the renewed resurgence of blogging that seems to blossom in January. Maybe it’s inevitable: we don’t have any family functions, the weather keeps us indoors and wonderful blogging and reading projects like Creme de la Creme attract our attention. Maybe the relentless merrymaking of the winter season naturally gives way to reflection.

So many bloggers I read have already written interesting, insightful posts about what they’ve learned this year and what they hope to learn in 2013.

I don’t like to make resolutions. Partly because they don’t stick for me, but also because I like learning what the year will present, what findings will stand out.

Here are my lessons from 2012:

1. It was heavenly to cross visiting the Amalfi Coast off my life list, and eating and shopping my way through Italy for a big birthday and anniversary with my beloved was everything I hoped it would be and more. Y’all are probably sick of hearing about that trip, and rightly so. I think it was Mark Twain (or maybe Stephen Colbert) who once said: “Nothing is more boring than someone else’s vacation.”
2. I learned to be grateful for what I have and less sad for what I don’t have. Mostly.
3. I remembered how fascinating fashion was (and still is) to me, and learned that taking care of my appearance gives me the power to heal some of my wounds. Looking good sometimes really can equal feeling good.
4. The twins became delightful little people who enjoy me reading the “Little House” books aloud. They are creative and exact and smart and great company. I love age 5.
5. Family and friends remained happy and healthy and I gained a niece, a gorgeous little girl.
6. We grew more of our own food: chard, kale, spinach, tomatoes, sage, thyme, rosemary.
6. Readers, you continued to be such a continuing source of strength and support and fun. Sometimes if I am feeling low, I’ll check my email and a beautifully worded little jewel will be waiting for me. While I constantly struggle with what to do with blogging, the community reminds me how lucky I am to have found this place.
7. Overall, I was pretty happy this year.

In general for 2013 I wish HEALTH most of all to all my friends and family. I also have vague plans for cooking from scratch (like bread, maybe cheese and living more off the land and our plantings) and perhaps more of a seasonal approach to life: using spare time on planting, ordering seeds, harvesting, cooking what we grow more. Figuring out a way to balance picky eaters (me included) with a variety of produce and carbs and protein. Enticing the family with more outdoor activities. Perhaps really cracking this blogging code in some way.

I hope that 2013 is the year your dreams come true!

What do you want in 2013?

Altruism: The Hard Truth About Helping

I have some advanced version of a nasty cold: bronchitis at best (pneumonia at worst) so I have been in bed mostly. Thinking.

Have you all read this post from Justine? Newtown and the holidays have made me think a lot about work that can be done to help others. I’ve been attached to various causes my whole life (helping animals when I was young: I worked at the local Humane Society as a pre-teen) and I’ve helped with various charities over the years, sitting on the board of one for a while, and working full-time for a non-profit. I’ve worked on political campaigns and for politicians as an intern for a political consultant throughout college. He worked mostly for the underdog. (And frequently lost.)

A lot of my pursuits were fruitless. Maybe (MAYBE) a few more animals were adopted because of my efforts. (Mostly to my own family! We had a zoo growing up basically.)

When the kids were born, I didn’t have much time to devote to altruism anymore: we gave money as a family where we could on a pretty limited budget. The community we live in is heavy on volunteering for things that are in my mind, not essential. They are mostly raising money and volunteering to promote even more services for children that are already pretty privileged. That’s how I feel, but the truth is I don’t have the time to volunteer for these causes even if I wanted to. My husband works crazy hours, so I hold down this fort alone without help. Faces of ALI has done some educational work, it seems, so there’s that.

There are other ways to do good. You can live a life true to your beliefs as a vegan or vegetarian. (Something I’ve tried but it turns out I can’t be a vegetarian for various health reasons that would bore you but mostly have to do with extreme anemia and an intolerance for a lot of vegetables and iron medication.) You can live a life as a self-sustaining homesteader, like Soulemama. (If you go over there, I warn you: you might be there for hours. She’s a fantastic blogger/photographer.)

I live a life of trying to “do the best I can.” I compost, I recycle, I grow some of my own food. I really limit the amount of landfill we produce. I buy local and organic when I can. I try to smile and say hi to people. I tip heavily. I try to foster community here at this site. I try to comment on blogs of others when they are struggling and when they are rejoicing. I stand up to bullies when I need to. I try to raise my kids to be kind, responsible children who question things that are unfair.

Then something like Newtown happens and I feel like there’s NOTHING I can do that will matter.

I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” this year, as I do every Christmas Eve. Each time I view it there’s a different issue that speaks to me and this year it was George’s spectacular burnout from doing too much for the good of Bedford Falls. I found an AV Club article called “It’s a Wonderful Life Shows the Unending Cost of Being Good” which discusses this topic in detail.

From the article about the famous ending where George Bailey’s friends and family raise the debt he owes:

“The money won’t last. It’ll cover the debt, and the Baileys will go right back to being broke. At best, George will just stay out of jail. The memory of his reverie will fade in time, as all memories must, eroded by the passage of life itself. There will always be Mr. Potter, there to take advantage of every moment of goodness and perceive it as a weakness, just as George Bailey will always stare out the window at the snow-capped roofs of Bedford Falls and wonder what’s out there beyond the world he can see. He’ll never fix the banister, and the house will always be drafty, and Mary will always love him. He will be good, because he must be good. And maybe that will be enough.”

This explanation speaks to me.

In the end, I keep coming back to Justine’s theory. I like the idea of altruism partnered with action.

What do you think? What altruistic acts to you perform? Do you think they make a difference?

What On Earth To Say?

If you read me regularly, you’ll know this blog has been fragmented since this summer. As fragmented as the cheap kaleidoscope lens I bought my son, which was quickly broken, then lost, as most of the twins’ toys are.

The truth is, I have no idea what to write anymore. How to write. Do I craft short, escapist posts of happiness and photos or long heart-wrenching missives pouring my heart out? I’ve had some middling success with this blog in the way I hoped: as an advocacy tool, an educational mechanism. The truth is, in some ways, my wounds of 2006-2010 (two losses and infertility) have healed. The truth is, those wounds will never really fully heal. The bell has been rung, I’m forever changed by the experiences. The truth is: I’ll face worse, because I won’t live forever and this world is destined to delight and depress people and all we can hope is that perhaps we experience more delight, but that’s not a given. The truth is I’d like to write about things other than infertility, too. The truth is, I don’t know that anyone wants to hear about those other things. And, fair enough. I started off writing for myself, but along the way, I began to write for others. Those I knew. Those I didn’t know. Those I wanted to reach. Those who needed to hear stories of others, ordinary but extraordinary tales of loss and love and resilience and brokenness.

I know that some of you have been bewildered by my meanderings (Fashion? REALLY?) and probably hurt by posts about my kids, something I refrained from doing before. I understand: my audience is a mix of different people, some in the trenches, some living childfree not by choice, some parenting, some having nothing to do with infertility.

I don’t know why I feel “better”, but it’s a fragile state I don’t take for granted. In fact, if there’s one phrase that defines 2012 for me, it’s gratitude. I feel lucky. Sometimes grouchy, sometimes angry, but always grateful. Just grateful for my husband and my beautiful twins. That gratitude was always there, under the surface, but it got lost along the way as I grieved for my children who would never be, for the star-crossed road it seems I alone was dealt amongst my charmed friends and acquaintances. But of course I was not alone. Because I had YOU.

And dear, dear readers: this brings me to my question. What would YOU like me to write?

- Would you like me to finish Faces of ALI? (I had at least two more profiles planned.) Do they matter?
- Do you want me to create a separate blog for all things fashion and lifestyle? Because the truth is the other thing that has made me happy in 2012 is rediscovering the superficial side of myself that was submerged for many years. I rediscovered my old love for everything sartorial: mostly this passion was reignited by my daughter, who has taken her interest in clothes to a new level by sewing and crafting.

A friend’s father once told her that she was two sides of the same knife, one that makes shallow cuts and one that delves deep. He’s Romanian and old world and survived the Holocaust as a young child, and I think there is great wisdom in aspiring to this. For me, I think the key for surviving this world (for the time I am given) is to be both: both perfunctory and possibly profound.

I really appreciate and look forward to your comments as always. I know I have not always pleased you, you have not always agreed with me, and I am sure that some of my posts made your eyes roll into the back of your head as you clicked out of my blog But please know: I have deeply valued your time and your comments over the last two years.

A Glimpse of What Was

Our basement is finally being rebuilt after our recent plumbing catastrophe. Today was, as our contractor gleefully informed me via email, “Jackhammer Day!” I was instructed to be gone from 9-5.

I picked up the twins from pre-school and took them to The Cheesecake Factory to kill some time. There wasn’t much parking, so we walked quite a distance to reach the restaurant.

It was raining, and we all had on our galoshes and raincoats, and we were all merry in spite of the grey of the day. I held each child’s hand, as there was some traffic. We rushed towards several puddles together and splashed in each one, laughing each time. I had listened to an interview with Temple Grandin in the car and she noted an urge lately for people to “prettify life.” Which I think is probably true, given the beautiful photos I’m drawn to on Pinterest. Sometimes though, a moment doesn’t need prettifying. It’s movie-ready, primed for a greatest moment montage of your life. I imagine I would remember this puddle moment if “my life flashes before me again” like it did during the world’s sketchiest take-off.

Aside: When many planes don’t fly into an airport because of “too many issues” (cough*Innsbruck*cough) and you hate flying, please oh please take a train from a nearby city. Before departure from Innsbruck, our pilot quite calmly stated that due to the fact that physics dictated our plane must be as light as possible to clear the Alps with the current wind-shear, they would be loading off all of our luggage onto another plane. That made me extremely nervous. Then we hit so much turbulance on take-off that the engines actually whined then rattled (like in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom when all the engines died) on my side of the plane. Darcy looked earnestly at me and said: “You know, I really love you.” Which he NEVER says. And then I was watching my life in fast-forward: I saw quick glimpses of my childhood backyard, my beloved metal slide, our Christmas Trees, holding my brother after he was born, a report card with straight As, my parent’s faces when I graduated college, holding the key to the first car I ever bought myself, the moment I met Darcy, and his face when he was on his knee asking me to marry him, the Eiffel Tower glistening in the background. All that in a few seconds.

And because life never lets one forget, as we were still frolicking in the last puddle, I suddenly stopped cold. My spine tingled with dread and then I spotted them. A young couple was walking towards us, she was wiping away tears and they were clinging to one another as if they were drowning in the heaviest gravity. The very gravitational force they were inhabiting was not the same as the one the children and I were in just yards away. And I just knew: she had had a miscarriage. I tried to quiet down the rowdiness of the kids, to respect the heavy sorrow, so weighty it could anchor a battleship, that had so thoroughly pervaded the whole parking lot. As children are wont to do, they ignored me. I nodded to the couple, and while they didn’t even seem to see me, the woman turned as she walked and shot my daughter a glance so full of sadness, envy, disappointment and anger I was visibly shaken.

Tears formed in my eyes, and I was transported back to those awful days immediately following my losses. Part of me wanted to follow her and say: “Have hope: I went through what you did and these children were fought for with all the power I could muster.” But I know I can’t predict her journey. There are so many ways her life could play out and all the paths could be fulfilling to her. I wouldn’t be of comfort in any case. There was nothing I could do.

All I could do was hope that tonight she is writing about her experience, maybe even telling about the salt in the wound of seeing scampering happy kids. And somewhere, whether it is on a forum, Twitter, or a blog, I really hope she is being comforted by those many kind souls in our community who band behind one another during these awful moments.

I wish her to know she is not alone. I too, was once there, in that gravitational force of doom. I will always have my hand out for her and you all.

I was once drowning in grey while all around me, people created the memories that will flash before their eyes before they die.

Top 5 Tips for Hosting a Child’s Birthday

I’ve gotten a few tweets and emails asking for my advice on throwing a child’s birthday. Tip 1: Don’t get a flat tire the day before one of the parties like I did

We decided to have two events this year for our twins, and wanted each celebration to be very individual and special to each child. Here’s what I did:

1. Ask your child for an idea for a theme.

We’ve done this since the twins were three. This year, my daughter loves all things equestrian, but specifically: ponies. My son, on the other hand, would love to join a pirate ship sailing out on a treasure hunt.

So, Ponies & Pirates.

2. Take your child with you to a party supply store.

I took each twin separately on a shopping trip to Craig’s Warehouse, our local supply store. They each chose plates, napkins, cups, party favors and balloons. They each had very specific aesthetic ideas of what they wanted: my daughter preferred the vintage-looking visions of ponies as opposed to the more commercial-looking My Little Pony gear, and my son liked the classic Jolly Roger logos. I really let them run with their own choices and tried not to steer them towards anything in particular. Even though I had my own ideas.

3. Ask them to choose two colors for additional decor.

My daughter wanted apple green and pink (of any shade) and specified that gingham be somewhere in the mix. My son requested black and red with lots of pirate loot. I basically treated the twins like my special event clients, and tried to really make their ideas a reality.

4. Make vision boards to help create what you want.

I went on Pinterest and scoured photos of pirate ship pinatas and anchor cakes and gingham party favors and ombre layer cakes. I also looked through party books and some vintage magazines for ideas. I’m a very visual person and sometimes I just need to see what cakes, flowers, favors and tables can look like before making a look my own. The board for my son, and my daughter. I posted the photos of the end products on each of vision board because I am nerdy like that.

5. Surprise them with the end result!

My in-laws hosted my daughter’s party and I went over there the night before to drop off the cake and decorate with MiL. When our daughter walked in the next morning, she was so thrilled to see all the little touches: the balloon garland, the cake colored pink and green with sprinkles, the pin-the-tail-on-the pony game. Similarly, my son was taken to the playground while I feverishly prepared our house with the final details. The look on his face when he saw the treasure chest and jolly roger and the pirate entertainer, (a last minute addition after a near Cowboy Dan episode) I will take with me to my grave. He was really, really happy.

Final tip: let friends and family help you!! I got a flat tire the day before and had a meltdown and Esperanza and my in-laws really came through and helped me out. Esperanza was amazing, playing pirates and swords with the balloons.

Today, I decided to have a little me time by getting some awesome dental surgery

What tips do you have about how to put on a memorable kid’s party? I would love to compile a list for next year. Only 363 days away!

Birthday Party: Gingham, Ponies and Everything Nice

Twin birthdays are tricky. This year, we decided to have separate parties. One down.

Dress: Designer unknown, bought by MiL in Paris this spring. That trip was really good for her closet!

My daughter loves ponies. She chose the plates, cups, and gingham, polka dots and the colors pink and green were her inspirations. It was up to Mom to come up with the goods.

Cakes. God. They continue to be a nemesis. I decided to bake a white layer cake (and honestly, I should have made more than two layers) and used a drop of food color to make one layer pink and one layer green. This was a hit with the guests.

Icing sucks.

My husband gave this book to my daughter for her growing fashion book collection. (Stumbling Gracefully also gifted her with gorgeous books about vintage Parisian fashions today! She fell asleep tonight gripping one of them.) I’m glad I perused Emily Schuman’s book too because THERE WAS A SECTION ON ICING THAT MADE THIS CAKE MUCH BETTER.

You have to set the icing and make a “crumb coat” in order for the icing to stick. I DID NOT KNOW THIS. Now I do. Big props to Emily. She saved the Jaffe cake from looking like this, again.

My client seemed happy with the results. I love her and her brother so very much, and feel so grateful and lucky that they are in my lives, every day. Big thanks to MiL for hosting and helping with everything.

The Hurricane Sandy news is so awful. My heart goes out to all affected. Sending out lots of love to A Half-Baked Life, A Blanket 2 Keep and all the others out there dealing with loss of life, property, power and normalcy.

The Beauty of Life

Oh, boy. This weekend, it kinda blew. Ear infections, tantrums, exhaustion, etc.

I will spare you all the details, because my Mom and some friends made it better.

Amidst the chaos and the difficulties, as always, there was beauty. I struggle to express the beauty I see without feeling like I am sugar-coating life and making it less authentic. But, beauty is always there. It is. And the more I notice it, the better I feel.

We ate that freaking delicious (if wonky) cake all weekend long: it actually tasted better with each day that passed.

We spent one last day at the beach.

Our tree continues its yearly odyssey into winter. Trees losing their leaves? Beautiful, but it is a display of loss. Maybe the finiteness of life makes me enjoy the display. But I blushed with pleasure when our neighbor told us how much they enjoy watching our tree from their living room window. I’m glad something we have brings beauty into someone else’s life.

I’m in PHASE TWO of The You Project. Which is: trying to change each negative thought I have into a positive. At first it was difficult, but today I’m finding it much easier. The more you do it, the more it becomes a pattern.

For example, Jjiraffe’s internal monologue:

“You are letting the twins watch ‘My Little Ponies’ again. Rainbow Dash is not a positive role model. You suck.”

Positive thought insertion:

“You don’t suck. You are only letting them watch that because the preschool has had holidays 33% of the school year so far, and if you don’t do this, no laundry or dishes will get done.”

It works.

I have also been allowing myself to watch Freaks and Geeks as a treat once the twins have gone to bed. By myself. Watching each episode is like a spa treatment. How did that show only last one season?

Finally, I am freaking proud of myself for making that cake. It’s by far the most delicious dessert I have ever baked. And next time, I can double the frosting recipe and it will look as beautiful as it tasted. Practice: whether baking cakes or telling yourself what you need to hear or reminding yourself of the beauty in this world.

Practice Makes Perfect.

Just When You Think You’re In The Clear…

…you realize you are not.

I really clicked into the groove of loving our life this summer. I mean, really enjoying every moment of it. I’ve been making things pretty: our walkway is now lined with Gerber daisies and a brand-new gorgeous flag is flying. I’ve been taking pride in doing the dishes and laundry, cooking (mostly), decorating the kids’ rooms, designing the basement, and mostly just enjoying my children: hugging them and laughing at their stories, being dazzled by their talents (my son built a helicopter meant for a 7 year old all by himself, my daughter’s beautiful and capricious dancing is making her a star in her ballet class) and best of all: clowning around with them to Psy’s silly horse dance. Darcy and I have had a really nice time together this summer, whether working in the kitchen (I’m the sous chef) or just really focusing on appreciating each other. He’s as much of a romantic hero as ever: he has planned a BIG adventure coming up to commemorate our 10th wedding anniversary. More to come…

So, I was surprised by a few developments lately.

1) The round of third pregnancy announcements. The preschool is a bit of a land mine-littered road: everywhere I look are the emails announcing the birth to a school family of a third child, or the pregnant bellies of women expecting their third. For some reason, this triggers the ache, the pain of remembering we lost our dream of a third child when I miscarried two years ago. It’s the reminders. I would hardly think of that loss except for the reminders. But sometimes, there’s just a strong ache for a baby: I just want a soft and sweet and downy-headed little one to snuggle and feed and hold. My SIL is due to give birth any moment, so I’m hoping being an aunt (for the first time!) might be a consolation prize.

2) The relics. I was putting clean socks into my sock drawer when I unexpectedly touched the rough grain of paper. It was an envelope with our ultrasound photos in it, from that last pregnancy. I started crying, even though I thought I had let go of that loss. I’m hoping Saying Goodbye comes to the US. I think I could really benefit from one of their services.

I guess these reminders never leave us completely. What I can hope is that they affect me less as time goes on. And I really do believe that the more beauty I can see in my own life, the more wonderful it will become.

That’s what I’m banking on, anyway.

Do you find focusing on the positives help you sustain a happier existence?