Father's Day

Thinking of all fathers who heard the heartbeat but never held their child, who held their child when the heartbeat was gone, and those fortunate enough to raise their living children. Also to those who yearn to be fathers, and to those who act as father figures such as single moms, uncles, partners, and boyfriends.

A blog from our friend about Father's Day:

My Existential Father’s Day

• June 14, 2013
• 0 Comments

Hearing your child’s heartbeat for the first time is one of the most profound moments you can have in your life.  The intense feeling brings on a rush of euphoria which can bring a tear to any grown man.  He will catapult back and forth in time and space imagining every pivotal moment between him and his child.  The first time he holds her…   his dance with her at her wedding…   encouraging her to crawl…    walking her to school…

These proud moments in time overshadow the pitfalls in my own life, the battles with self-confidence as a teenager, the lack of attention from my own father, and random failures as I discover my self worth.  I see myself as the protector.  I will teach my child how to overcome common anxieties by being an available, motivated, and attentive father, learning from what was absent from my own life.

When the birthday arrived, I anticipated this indescribable rush of euphoria to resurface.  To look into her eyes and see everything I was and everything she would make me.  I would hold her and be her strength.  I would teach her how to make it through this world.  We would be inseparable…

After my son was born, I chose to take five months of paternity leave.  For many reasons the timing worked.  My wife went back to school, one contract ended and I was assured another one when I chose to return to work, and it was a very precious time in his life.  Any uncertainties about having taken this extended leave from work vanished when I realized there is only one month remaining of my leave.  He has grown so much in my time with him and it pains me to think that work will take me away from his day to day life.

I know his sleeping rituals, how to make him laugh, the games he likes to play, the foods he has eaten and the colour of his poop.  On our walks together I have met many many people who look and smile at me as they pass.  Some commend me on my dedication to my son, others try to provoke a smile from him, which he is always ready to give.

He is a happy boy and I am very proud of him.  I am fulfilling my obligations as a father and it shows.  This is what it feels like to be a father.  We will have more days like this, I will teach him so much, and we will be best buddies.  The future looks bright…

It was moments like these that rushed through me when I heard her first heartbeats and when I saw her on our ultrasound.  But before she would say her first words and take her first steps, she would have to be born.

My daughter was born almost two years before my son.  The intense feelings of love and pride overwhelmed me at times.  I looked forward to my time with her, to teach her and learn from her.  I would walk with her until she fell asleep and support her when she stood up.

But before she could stand and before she would crawl, she died.

And before she died, she had a heartbeat.

Her heartbeat showed me my future, what kind of father I was to become, and lifted me to a level of euphoria I have never experienced.  From that moment, I waited impatiently to hold her.  When I would look into her eyes I expected to see my future and it would be awesome.  But she never opened her eyes.  I was robbed, the door was closed.  That same rush of euphoria I first felt during her first ultrasound never came.

My third Father’s Day is upon me.  Or is it my first Father’s Day.  It’s my third with Amelia, it’s my first with my son.  It will be happy, I know that much, but it will also be melancholy.  First we will go to the cemetery, then lunch, a movie and dinner.  I will enjoy my time with my son, but shield myself from the oblivious salutations from people on this very commercial day.  

For my fear is that when people look at me with my son, they will see me as a first time dad, much like they saw my wife on Mother’s Day.

We have come along way, my wife and I.  We survived and we have the scars to prove it.  We are closer now then ever before, it is because of our daughter and it is because of our son.  As we continue to walk the path, you see us as three, but we are four.

http://still-lifecanada.ca/01/uncategorized/existential-fathers-day

Serenity

One of my favourite Uncles passed away this week. He was the one who sponsored our whole family to emigrate from India, was a pioneer as the Executive Director of Engineering for Boeing and worked on projects for the US military and NASA that he couldn't even tell his kids about, and was such a decent and caring person. He was also an amazing father and encouraged his daughter to study mechanical engineering - a rarity at the time, and was supportive of my family when my mom divorced my dad when I was six years old - a rarity for Indian families, especially at that time.

Some of the things I wrote about him to my cousins were:

Uncle was always a role model to me as well as a father figure. I remember the advice he gave us on education, careers and family, the love he had for our family every time we came to Seattle, the visits to Vancouver where he would take our directions and draw detailed maps with specific symbols for bridges and rivers, the first good glass of wine he served me (plus the Banana Rum from the Caribbean), the speeches he gave at Sanjay and Steve’s weddings about marriage and companionship, his snoring through the bedroom and even hotel walls, the discussions about his Republican loyalty coming from a confused Canadian-US-wannabee-Democrat, and of course the airplanes – lots of airplanes. Over the years, I’ve told Gerry so much about his character and how highly respected he was personally and professionally. I have been meaning to read his books, especially his journey from India and will do so now. 

My cousin sent me this passage from the Serenity Prayer in remembrance of his Dad. My Uncle's life motto:

God grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

I have been thinking about this a lot over the past few days in reflection of us being unable to achieve a viable pregnancy...the looming fact that the next round of treatment and possible decision to adopt may still leave us childless. I'm trying to think of it as more courageous than defeating for couples in our situation to accept that one cannot change things that they have no control over, and to not feel embarrassed and defensive about it, but for right now, I'm not there yet ...but maybe an inch closer.

God bless you, Uncle.

Violated

I had my second operative hysteroscopy today in follow up to my blog a couple months ago Explaining the Unexplained  where I needed to remove a bit of scar tissue from my uterus before we try again.

But this time the procedure was with no full anesthesia, so I fasted just in case I got some type of weird aspiration pneumonia again from the local anesthetic only to be told when I got there at noon that I didn't need to fast.  I thought I was going to get a light sedative and painkillers. Nope! I don't exactly classify some pre-operative advil and tylenol as painkillers!!!

The procedure was only 15 minutes, and although I have a very high pain tolerance level and have had a number of procedures involving my vag-ig-i done thus far, thoughts of why the fuck didn't I get fully knocked out! and for god's sake are kids really worth this freaking pain! kept surfacing through my head. 

In the end, the doc said the scar was really minor so I didn't know if that made me feel better or not!

Baby Boom

I met with my "group" pals tonite, one of them nicknamed it "glee club" which I found funny. We no longer formally meet at the hospital on a regular basis because sometimes new people would attend and their experiences were quite raw so it was hard for us to tell them it would all be better. Plus, more than half of our group is now pregnant or just had a baby so it is hard to be visibly pregnant around women who have just lost their babies. It's also easier for us (at least me) to laugh and carry conversations on non-baby loss topics outside the formal setting.  I have to say I feel so happy for them after all they have been through even though of course I would love to have that bump too. We can still talk about OBs, carseats, and other normal things new and expecting mom's talk about, but also about their fear, anxiety, post-poning pregnancy announcements, and of course no pre-baby shower planning. They also provide the same sensitivity to the rest of us non-preggers regardless of their news and ask us sincerely how we are doing. No avoidance of asking/ fear of upsetting someone but respectful if someone doesn't wish to divulge that day. Different than some other forums I've been in. Gotta love these gals.

What to expect...

Guess they have branched out now....how about "What to expect when you don't know what the hell to expect?"


Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

I Will Wait

So it was time to pick a movie....Gerry suggested the The Odd Life of Timothy Green. Oh yes, I remembered seeing the trailer....I gave him a quick heads up that it is about a childless couple but he nudged to see it anyway - better than some others we have passed over lately like Friends with Kids and What to Expect When You are Expecting. 

The couple grieves their inability to conceive a child and bury a box in the garden of all the traits they wanted in their son or daughter. That night a ten year old boy is "born" from the garden. We looked at each other and said "hey, we already planned to garden tomorrow!" 

Okay spoiler alert if you want to see this movie.....so the child teaches the couple lessons that they are already meant to be parents but later he must "leave". The couple decides to adopt and in the last scene, the social worker brought them a little girl....and that's when my crying started...not the few tears that shed during a poignant scene or a sad movie, but the "built up, soft, shaky, slightly hyperventilating, release tears" I get on rare occasion when I think of my babies I have lost and how much I long for a child. Gerry said this movie is about hope and I nodded in agreement.

The next day we gardened. We had already bought a beautiful lilac tree for our patio. A few weeks ago, Gerry accidentally pulled out the two sonogram pics of "Puck", our first baby. He felt bad I had to see it again, but it was okay. There were some things we had kept such as my pregnancy test and those pictures. It was all we had really. The second time we got pregnant, they didn't give us pictures of the ultrasounds - likely in dire anticipation it would not be successful. The other pregnancies ended too early for pictures. I didn't know what to do with Puck's pictures and we aren't really a symbolic/sappy  couple (so I thought) but thought maybe I would bury it someday (keeping a photocopy). 

We took out the two pictures and I wrote on the back of one, Gerry wrote on the other. In my message, I also noted the dates all my babies were lost.  We then laid them in the soil. It was harder than I thought and those tears came out again. In the movie, the couple had come to that point of acceptance, but we said to each other that we are not giving up. On the radio, Corey Hart's Everything in My Heart was playing which was nice. Then as we planted the tree, a new song came on...Mumford & Sons' I Will Wait (for you). It was actually quite uplifting and very fitting. I will wait to meet my babies one day, later joking that we'll have a truckload of kids up in heaven, but I will also wait to embrace my child - either born to me, through adoption, or grown from a garden. I will be strong, I will bow down, I will have hope. And I will wait, I will wait for you.

Well I came home like a stone
And I fell heavy into your arms
These days of dust, which we've known
Will blow away with this new sun

And I'll kneel down; wait for now
And I'll kneel down; know my ground

And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

So break my step, and relent
Well you forgave, and I won't forget
Know what we've seen and him with less
Now in some way shake the excess

But I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

Now I'll be bold as well as strong
And use my head alongside my heart
So tame my flesh and fix my eyes
A tethered mind freed from the lies

But I'll kneel down; wait for now
I'll kneel down; know my ground

Raise my hands; paint my spirit gold
Bow my head; keep my heart slow

'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you
And I will wait, I will wait for you

Lolo

Five years ago Gerry's dad past away from lung cancer. By the time he was diagnosed he was already in stage three with only a few months left. When we knew the time had come, I told Gerry that his Dad needed to hear that you will all be okay so he could let go - that was what he was holding on for. Everyone was saying their good-byes that last day in the hospital. I told my soon to be father-in-law that I hope to have his grandson one day. He had wanted another grandson to carry on his last name. Gerry's dad passed away six weeks before our wedding. If we do ever have kids, they will be told how wonderful, patient, kind, and full of life their Lolo (grandfather) was.