Thursday, July 31, 2008

The Great Lover by Rupert Brooke

I have been so great a lover: filled my days
So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise,
The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,
Desire illimitable, and silent content,
And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,
For the perplexed and viewless streams that bear
Our hearts at random down the dark of life.
Now, ere the unthinking silence on that strife
Steals down, I would cheat drowsy Death so far,
My night shall be remembered for a star
That outshone all the suns of all men's days.
Shall I not crown them with immortal praise
Whom I have loved, who have given me, dared with me
High secrets, and in darkness knelt to see
The inenarrable godhead of delight?
Love is a flame; we have beaconed the world's night.
A city: and we have built it, these and I.
An emperor: we have taught the world to die.
So, for their sakes I loved, ere I go hence,
And the high cause of Love's magnificence,
And to keep loyalties young, I'll write those names
Golden for ever, eagles, crying flames,
And set them as a banner, that men may know,
To dare the generations, burn, and blow
Out on the wind of Time, shining and streaming...
These I have loved:
White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
Wet roofs, beneath the lamp-light; the strong crust
Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;
And radiant raindrops couching in cool flowers;
And flowers themselves, that sway through sunny hours,
Dreaming of moths that drink them under the moon;
Then, the cool kindliness of sheets, that soon
Smooth away trouble; and the rough male kiss
Of blankets; grainy wood; live hair that is
Shining and free; blue-massing clouds; the keen
Unpassioned beauty of a great machine;
The benison of hot water; furs to touch;
The good smell of old clothes; and other such
The comfortable smell of friendly fingers,
Hair's fragrance, and the musty reek that lingers
About dead leaves and last year's ferns...
Dear names,
And thousand other throng to me! Royal flames;
Sweet water's dimpling laugh from tap or spring;
Holes in the groud; and voices that do sing;
Voices in laughter, too; and body's pain,
Soon turned to peace; and the deep-panting train;
Firm sands; the little dulling edge of foam
That browns and dwindles as the wave goes home;
And washen stones, gay for an hour; the cold
Graveness of iron; moist black earthen mould;
Sleep; and high places; footprints in the dew;
And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new;
And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass;
All these have been my loves. And these shall pass,
Whatever passes not, in the great hour,
Nor all my passion, all my prayers, have power
To hold them with me through the gate of Death.
They'll play deserter, turn with the traitor breath,
Break the high bond we made, and sell Love's trust
And sacramented covenant to the dust.
- Oh, never a doubt but, somewhere, I shall wake,
And give what's left of love again, and make
New friends, now strangers...
But the best I've known
Stays here, and changes, breaks, grows old, is blown
About the winds of the world, and fades from brains
Of living men, and dies.
Nothing remains.

O dear my loves, O faithless, once again
This one last gift I give: that after men
Shall know, and later lovers, far-removed,
Praise you, "All these were lovely"; say "He loved".

Mataiea, 1914

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Birth Story

June 27th....nope July 5th.....became July 11th. 7/11/08 made those extra two weeks all worth it.

I had a doctor appointment on July 8th. I told anyone within earshot that I was going to stage a sit in if my doctor didn't schedule my induction. Uncomfortable was an understatement at this point. The baby growing inside of my was a dancing machine and had a serious work ethic about it. The OB/Gyn practice I go to has you see a different doctor at each visit and I had no idea if I was getting a "good one" this day.

She took one look at me and said "We gotta get this baby out of you!". I almost kissed her feet, cried and probably would have jumped up and down if the laws of gravity allowed pregnant woman to do so. Tests were done, ultrasounds performed and schedules made. I left with the promise of a phone call with in the next 12 hours to let me know when to show up at the hospital. The next morning I was told to be there on July 10th at 4pm. Salvation!!!!

Mom came to town early Thursday afternoon and we packed up the car. Went to lunch at Boston Market and saw Wade's doppleganger, which made us miss him (more). Of course, we were anxious to start this process so we were in my room by 4pm. Wheelchaired up there and everything. (Poor wheel chair guy). I avoided laying down in that bed for as long as possible. But, eventually they had to start poking and prodding, bleeding me dry and squirting that gel for the monitors all over my giant belly.

I had a snack a couple of hours in, after being told I wouldn't be able to eat for two hours after my cervadil was started. Dr. Heath finally came in around 7pm and began the process. An hour later, I was starting to feel hunger pains, and it was too late to get anything from the cafeteria. I began to crave a Filet of Fish and a Chick-Fil-A milkshake. At 8:45pm, I sent Mom out to do the only bidding on my behalf for my entire pregnancy. I had no idea it would take her almost an hour to get back. Apparently, cruising up and down the road in front of the hospital is found to be entertaining by the locals. Oh, and the fact that I sent her to two different fast food chains in opposite directions didn't help.

She walked in and I felt awful for sending her on a goose chase AND being locked out of the hospital, but I scarfed that food down. For a minute or two, because I started having contractions. While I was eating!!! My yummy food!!! That's ok, I thought, these are just teasers, not the real thing. The sandwich died, unfinished. The milkshake drowned, half full. Those contractions got stronger and stronger. It took an hour for my nurse to come in and find out that I had been having them. She gave me some pain meds which knocked me right out for about an hour.

When I woke up, all I could think was EPIDURAL. They promised me she was on her way up with my drugs. My lovely, in the spine, knock the pain and feeling in my legs away drugs. It took three hours and massive amounts of brain cells for her to get there. Some where in there, my water broke. Once the anesthesiologist arrived, she had me sit up on the bed, indian style, and lean over. Had this woman not realized that I am pregnant, and have a large protrusion blocking anything remotely looking like "leaning over"? It was one of the most uncomfortable parts of the whole two day event. And that's saying something after some of those contractions. It took her a while to get it done and at one point she had my nurse hold me still. Apparently I was having a hard time not moving while having contractions and sitting in the world's worst position. Weird, silly me.

But oh, sweet relief. I don't know how women go through child birth without an epidural. The pain vanished and I was able to sleep. Of course, this slows down your contractions down a bit, but I had no idea I was even having them in the first place from that point on. I also had no idea they weren't starting the pitocin until the next morning. I had monitors strapped to my belly, checking on my contractions and on Zachary's heart rate. He had been happy as a clam all night. The nurse joked that even though my water broke, he didn't care that he was losing his 'jacuzzi'.

The next morning I woke up and started my buffet of popsicles. I was starving but knew it was going to be a long time before I could eat. Yummy, red, crunchy and cold popsicles. I don't really remember how we passed the morning but around 10 am, the nurses told me that Zachary wasn't handling the contractions very well. They had explained the night before that his heart rate would always drop a little during a contraction but as long as he recovered quickly from it, he was fine, and it was actually a good thing. But now, he wasn't doing that, he was struggling. Dr. Heath came in and said the word....C-Section. I had mentally prepared myself for the possibility when the ultrasound earlier in the week showed he was going to be about nine pounds. But, I was so out of it from the drugs and being so tired, it just didn't register to me, then, that this was an emergency.

Mere seconds after the words left his mouth, a gaggle of nurses, anesthesiologists, doctors, just tons of people were in my room. Sign this, drink that, hold out your arm, lay down, etc. I started to shiver and shake. I was freezing, and I don't normally get cold. Warm blankets were brought out, Mom put on her scrubs. I was wheeled away.

I knew where I was going, because I had taken the hospital tour a couple months prior. A stark white and extremely lit operating room. As they wheeled me down the hall, I got colder and colder, shaking more by the second. The door to the OR was opened and I was hit by a wall of even colder air! Bring on those warm blankets! My arms were stretched out like a scarecrow and a curtain was hung inches from my face. Because I had my epidural in place, I had no sense of what was going on behind that blue sheet.

Of all people, that anesthesiologist was my life line during the hour or so I was on that table. Mom held my hand and they all talked me through what was going on, but that doctor kept telling me, "Whatever you want, you tell me and I'll give it to you". I was told that I would start to feel some pressure up by my ribs, that they were going to push down to help Zachary to come out. And, I did. That boy was lodged in there nice and tight. I was told later, that they had to use the suction to help get him out.

This whole time, I am shaking like your proverbial leaf. Not a good feeling in the first place, but then when you know someone is cutting you open, it makes it more of a struggle to try and stop so you aren't causing problems around that knife area! They wrapped warm blankets around my head and put a lovely little heater under the blankets on my chest. In a way that helped, but my body was just so confused by everything going on, she didn't want to calm down. But then, I heard it.

I heard him cry. I felt my Mom's hand leave me. I started to cry. I had no idea I would be filled with such emotion. The months of struggle that had led to this point released themselves in that moment. I was so glad he was finally with us and go grateful that he was ok. The cord had wrapped itself around his neck, chest and legs. He recovered immediately and was given a beautiful APGAR score of 9. He continued to let out cries, and so did I. Mom took pictures and videos and I felt someone holding my hand. I looked over and it was one of the nurses, she was just sitting there stroking my hand while I cried.

I began to feel nauseous and my good old trusty friend the anesthesiologist immediately put something in my IV to stop the rumblings (could you imagine being sick on the operating table?). Then, I started to feel itchy (and would continue to feel so for a good 24 hours). Oh my goodness, it was like I was a crack fiend going through withdrawals. She offered me something for it, but I didn't want to be groggy when I met Zachary. They were still cleaning him up, and making sure he was ok. I still hadn't seen his face, I had no idea what he looked like, and I wanted to be as aware as possible when that time finally came.

I can still feel that moment when they brought him over. Swaddled like nobody's business, with his face peeking out from behind blankets and knit caps. His eyes shone out like dark river rock and looked right at me. We stared at each other and the nurse brought him closer so I could smell his sweet skin and give him kisses. Hooked.

They took him to the nursery, and Mom went with him. I stayed there in the OR for what felt like forever while they stitched me up. I finally was taken to the recovery room and waited there for everyone to join me. Tanya arrived from D.C. and sat with me in my groggy state and then met Zachary when they let him visit before getting his first bath and all of his newborn tests done. He was here and we were getting ready to start falling in love with him.

Those three and a half days all seem like a blur, now. But they were the beginning of a life long love for one of the most important people we have ever met. We are so grateful to know him and will cherish his grace in our lives.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

1000 Words

I want to start a series of posts on photos that I've taken and a little story behind them. How cliche of me to title the series "1000 Words", especially since I won't be tracking the word count or even coming close to that amount. Always unpredictable.

Location: Bethesda Terrace, Central Park
Date: Spring, circa 2003

I was living in New Jersey and had taken the train in to New York City on one of my regular day trips. I had fallen in love with the city before I had ever seen it in person. If NYC was my soul mate, then Central Park was our love child. In the few times I've been there, I have barely scratched the surface of the potential.

I had been wandering through the park, not really aiming for a particular destination. Just strolling along the paths, allowing them to guide me in their own directions. As I got closer to Bethesda Terrace, I could hear a quiet music flowing through the spring air. Violin. Soft and slow, touching and graceful. Reminding me of one of my great loves, being in the presence of a live orchestra. Very few things bring my heart to a swell as does the rise and fall of such emotional music.

The light was perfect. Filtering through the trees, cutting across the grass, bouncing off the pavement, highlighting the secret treasures throughout the park. And then I came to the stairs. A perfect silhouette. Standing alone, beneath the terrace. The chamber of architecture amplifying his tune. I have no idea what piece he was gracing me with. But it was exactly what I needed to hear. It made me weep.

It is one of those moments that you wish you could capture and lock away in a box. Revisit days and years later, attempting to savor the same feelings and sensations as when it first became a part of you. I suppose that is why I find such fulfillment in taking photographs. I enjoy the ability to grasp that one moment in time that I'm afraid I might forget.

Monday, July 28, 2008


So, Mom and I got all adventurous today and decided to paint the guest bedroom (aka Wade's old bedroom) and the upstairs bathroom. It took a little bit of trial and error to get a color we liked, but we finally found ones we LOVE.

"Zen Garden" by Valspar

Second color from the left...the one on both ends is too minty
and the second from the right is too dark...third time's the charm!!!

The last white spot!

Mom is the Edging Queen!

The bathroom goes "Lament Blue"...wait until you see the finished product. The towels are gorgeous. And, we're going to go with a bit of a coastal theme with some shells and photos of the beach.

I did help, but being the photographer doesn't get you in the picture very often. Mom did catch me painting in the bedroom but since it's my blog, I get to deny any unflattering pictures access to this page. :)

I will try and post some pictures of the finished rooms, once we get them decorated. We have some framed photos, cute shelves and a great mirror to hang in the guest room. Then once we go to the beach next week, we will see what we get to hang in the bathroom.

Sunday, July 27, 2008


I have avoided really talking in this space. Out of fear, pride, embarrassment, hiding behind the person people think I am. If I have learned anything in this past year, one of the most important things has to be that what I was doing, wasn't working.

I must warn you though, going forward, I may say things that will hurt you, will make you cry, will shock you, maybe confuse you. But, I can't hide behind myself anymore. I need to open myself up to the fact that I have things inside of me that need to come out. Locking myself away doesn't help me become the person I could be, and if he taught me anything, it's that I will never be the same person I was before I met him.

And for that I am eternally grateful.

I miss him with an ache that haunts me. I can still feel him searching, his face grazing my cheek. Watching the video of him having a bath, relishing in getting his hair washed. I have NEVER met anyone so peaceful, so calm and open to the new world around them.

In time, I want to talk about my experience. What got me here, and what I want to do in learning from all that has happened. But for now, I am grieving and am so thankful to be able to do it in the cocoon of my parents home. Mom, you help me just by being there. I love you.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Thursday, July 24, 2008

In Your Atmosphere

Where ever I go
Whatever I do
I wonder where I am
I wonder where I am
In relation to you

Where ever you go
Where ever you are
I watch your life play out in pictures from afar

Where ever you go
Whatever I do
I wonder where I am
In my relationship to you

Wherever you go
Where ever you are
I watch that pretty life play out in pictures from afar

Saturday, July 5, 2008


This guy was crawling around the GAS STATION when I filled up, today.

Creepy, and kinda gross......and sad.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008


I haven't been very motivated to post lately. But thought I would do a little something. Might do this again, from time to time.