forty photos from this day... ten years after 9 | 11

this was a day that was bitter-sweet.

though ten years have passed,

i think we all felt the bitter again... or at least remembered how it felt...

to have a dark cloud of fear and utter bewilderment

about what happened on 9 | 11

hanging over us.

i remember immense confusion...

even for those of us who were miles and miles away from ground zero.

through the images and reports, we were all right there.

in some ways, it all seems like a blur.

 

every channel and every page today is a blatant reminder.

still, with tears, it is difficult to see clearly through it.

but watching all the coverage on this tenth anniversary

did not just vividly bring back the horror of that day...

it also brought back the brightness of the heroism, strength and unity that was displayed.

and so it was a reminder of what people are capable of

and what they will do.

in tragedy.

in a great hour of need.

i felt hope in spite of the awfulness again.

and that uncanny similar blue up above was less of a reminder to be sad

and more of a reminder to be hopeful.

to be at peace.

this bird soaring up above was quite cool to see... reminding me of the freedom

that came under attack, but could not be taken or destroyed.

it was one of the first things i saw on a walk today.

but more on that later.

though i cried once again

and felt pain and questions resurface,

i felt and sensed so many good things today as well.

gratitude.

resolve.

pride.

compassion.

love.

like i said, it was a day of bitter-sweet.

we knew full well that there would be remembrance of 9 | 11 everywhere we looked.

and so we were prepared for it.

expecting it.

even welcoming it.

ready to be immersed in reminders of how shocking this day was in 2001.

ready to grieve all over again for all who suffered so greatly.

ready to grieve again for this nation.

personally, 9 | 11 affected me deeply.

i am a crier.

and i take things really hard.

my emotions can run really deep in difficult times.

and though i was not right there in the midst...

though my life was not directly affected by the attacks,

it took me weeks to stop crying.

it took me days to calm down and not feel fear.

today, i remembered that well.

fear gone, but tears returned, i could not turn away from the constant coverage.

and this time, i was struck by stories that ten years ago

would not have struck me in the same way.

this time,

it was the stories of mothers

who lost their husbands to the attacks

while they were pregnant...

forced to give birth to children who would not have their fathers there too.

today, i saw the photographs of those babies {now grown} as i sat held my own,

and i cried for them.

for their moms.

for those fathers who never knew those children.

that was what was different this time...

it hit me the most of anything today.

but today had its share of lighthearted leisure and amusement, as well.

the husband and son i hold tighter today

were excited for the new season of chicago bears football...

their opening game of the season.

there was anticipation, excitement and merriment, too.

while father and son watched the game,

complete with fan garb and football snacks,

mom watched the 9 | 11 coverage...

grateful that she had them in her life... in the other room.

 

and the bears won, on top of it all!

not just won...

they won by a lot!

woo hoo!

it seemed trivial to celebrate a game win on such a day.

but just as the network reminded those who were watching,

football is american... it's one of our favorite pastimes...

one small way we can celebrate our freedom and show patriotism.

so we celebrated that.

 

and then to top off a win by our team,

it was an absolutely beautiful day!...

it was just like ten years ago, only warmer...

too beautiful to waste by being inside all day.

so, after the game, we decided to go for a walk...

mr. b, isaac and myself.

it was another "sweet" on this bitter-sweet day. 

{i took some pictures. i know... surprise, surprise!}

 

mr. b pushed the stroller so that i could snap those pictures along the way.

isaac?... well, he just sat there looking all sweet...

looking all around,

looking up at the trees,

 

looking up at his mom and dad...

even looking at the insides of his eyelids.

and we stopped a time or two to take a closer at him.

we stopped to caress his chin

as our own way of saying, "we are so grateful for you...

we love you and will never take the fact that we have you for granted."

foot tickles say that, too.

 

  

stopping now and then allowed me to get some clear photos.

attempting to take the photos while walking was not so successful...

  

but you know how much i like blurry pictures, so that's a good thing in my eyes.

daddy was nice enough to break his stride so that i could focus.

sometimes i was lucky, and was able to focus even while in motion...
but just on the wrong thing.

not that mr. b's strong arms are not a worthy thing to focus on.

  

in fact, a blurry issac being pushed by his focused father's strong arms...

i like the effect!

anyway, we walked and walked and walked some more...

little isaac going in and out of a nap.

we walked through neighborhoods that are as quaint as they come around here,

stopping here and there to "smell the roses"... or take pictures of the berry bushes,

  

{half the time, i was lagging way behind from stopping to "smell those roses"}.

 

then we're off again... 

and we're stopping again...
gotta play with the restless native who needs some attention. 

and we're off once again.

  

up and down streets.

i shoot upward...

then downward...

 

through sun and shadow...

  

past homes who displayed their own patriotism and pride by displaying the flag...

  

resting weary feet here and there...

 

happening upon sidewalk art, trying to decipher what it is

{what do you think?... butterfly or flower?}...

 

stopping to watch little critters...

 

under cool canopies of green that provided some shade.

 

on such a warm day, it was a long way to go.

but we eventually found ourselves right back where we began.

 

same spot... just different icing.

what a lovely walk it was.

what a perfect way to let the images from the television

sink in and be etched the way they needed to be,

but with new images that should be equally etched... and more.

cherished.

later on, grandma {my mom} stopped by

to see her favorite baby grandson.

yet another sweetness to counter the bitter of the day.

she got him doing some tummy time.

as you can see, it wore him out.

so grandma let him rest.

 

but it was too late.

he was not too happy that he had to work on such a relaxing day,

and he was sure to let her know it.

he loves his grandma, though, so he eventually came around.

they played together until he got sleepy, which was when grandma went home.

all in all, it was a good day,

and little isaac {the latest bears fan in this household}

was plum-tuckered.

this day was bitter.
it was sad to think of what this date will forever carry.
sadder to think of how some will never get over or through it...
never get back what they lost.

but this day was sweet, too...
in the healing of knowing of what can be overcome.
even more healing to think about what we have right now to be grateful for.

and so i have no list today.
just forty photos to mark this 9 | 11
and where we are
these ten years later.

oh, the places you'll go {and other dr. seuss-isms}

dear baby-b,

i know it's been a while since i wrote you...
i haven't been around much.
well, that is to say, i have not been writing to you here lately...
much less doing any other kind of blogging.
but there are some reasons for that.


however, as you well know, i've been around.
in fact, not just around... but SURROUNDing you...
for almost twenty-nine weeks, now.


so, back to the reasons i have not blogged in quite a while.
well, i thought i would take a bit of a break...
or at least cut way back.
in fact, the day i wrote that i planned to do just that
was the day before japan was struck by a tragic chain of events.
and so even after i had planned on stopping in
every once in a while {maybe once a week},
i just couldn't do it.


there were so many things i could have written about
and taken photos of...
especially pertaining to you.
but i just couldn't do it.
nothing i could say would seem necessary.
nothing i could say wouldn't seem trivial
in light of what was going on almost half-way around the world.


for instance, i wanted to write about the nursery i am setting up for you.
i might have written about how when i found the perfect curtains for your room,
i went to buy them and discovered i was $1.56 short in my bank account
and was so bummed, because i really wanted to get those curtains for you..
but then i realized that there are pregnant women in japan
who are worried about radiation seeping into their homes
and affecting their unborn babies,
and the biggest of my worries was not having enough money to buy curtains,
and that for a time, i might have to let sunlight seep into your window
through the cracks in the blinds.
but this is so not a problem or a trial or a hurdle.
it's nothing.
simply nothing.
especially in light of what things could be like for us.


and the list of things i could have written about
would go on and on and on.
and like the curtains, all of it seemed un-important.
not to say our lives and our worlds are not important...
i'll get to that in a bit.
but i could only watch the news
in disbelief
and grieve for those people
who were hit with three separate tragic events in a row...
one after another,
each spawned by the one before...
with no breaks and no respite.
and i sat here helpless... except the ability to pray.
and so there was nothing for me to say
for a good long while
that would have mattered in light of it all.


but i realized something this week.
we all have many worlds to think about.
we have humanity and the world in general {this big ball we call earth}
to care about and be concerned for.
but then we each have the micro worlds we live in.
our homes.
our families.
our small communities.
and sometimes our own small worlds can be shaken
even the way the earth shook that day
to cause so much heartache and pain and devastation in japan.


though we may not experience the magnitude of pain and loss
in our own little worlds
that an entire region of the world could,
life is still sometimes difficult,
and when the crisis-mode and attention of a world event like that dies down,
we are back in the center of those things going on in our own lives.
and you know what?
it's okay to think on those things, too...
to write about them, process them, work through them, deal with them.


and by the time you are old enough to read this,
you won't remember what i will write about.
in fact, you may not have even been aware when it was happening.
but i'll never forget it.
but just in case i do, i'm writing it down now.


it started monday.
i lay there on that exam table
with my head supported by a comfortable pillow
and my belly exposed.
it was quiet... only the sound of the sonogram machine... a very comforting, buzzing sound
that filled the room with a peaceful quiet.
it was warm in the room...
i loved that, because your mama hates to be cold.
it was just such a serene environment,
and i couldn't wait to see your face come across the screen.


i was there for one reason, and one reason only...
to check and see if i still had the placenta previa
that the doctors had discovered eight weeks earlier.
and i did.
i do.


the technician left the room at one point... just like last time.
she had to check with the radiologist to see if more images were needed.
she left the room,
and it was just you and me.
you had been quite still... except for a yawn or two.
i saw your face even more clearly than i could eight weeks ago.
and i'm sure it has changed so much in that time.
your heart was beating strong,
and i could not help but cry when i saw you.
this time i was alone.
papa was working, so it was just you and me.
i didn't expect to get emotional this time... after all, we had done this once before.
but i was more emotional than the last time.
it was mostly from seeing you,
but also from learning that my previa condition still existed.
i had high hopes that things would have changed in the weeks that followed the first ultrasound.


so when she left,
again, it was just you and me.
and the tears rolled more quickly than i could keep up with them...
and like last time, it was a silent cry.
tears were only felt, though...
this time, not even heard hitting the exam-table paper,
because i caught each one with my hands,
hoping to not smudge the mascara
that i probably should have never even put on in the first place...
knowing where i would be going.


i was crying out of joy to see you again...
to see how much of a reality you have become as you grow in me day by day.
you were once only a dream of mine.
but now you are so real.
{i had to use the dr. seuss quote above,
because i loved how appropriate it was for this post... for this time in my life.
and the funny part is, i have not been sleeping for about a month...
something i always attribute to the very restless legs i have at night
due to your existence and growth in my belly.
but maybe it's also for the reason in the dr. seuss quote...
maybe i'm SO IN LOVE with you
and so happy that you are here... soon to REALLY be here...
that the reality that was once only a dream
now keeps me awake.}


well, back to the exam table and you and me lying there in silence.
i looked up.
well, i guess i had been looking up the entire time
{when not looking over at the monitor to see your precious face}.
i mean, where else would i look?
but when the technician was gone,
your face disappeared from the monitor.
so i had to look somewhere else.
and lying there on my back, it was up that i chose to look.
and i'm glad i did.
you know what i saw?
i saw clouds and hot air balloons
on a bright blue sky.
i'm not kidding.
i'm not just saying that... like it's something i saw in my mind's eyes.
there were literally clouds and hot air balloons and blue sky.
you see, it was one of those fluorescent ceiling light covers
that a lot of hospitals now use... to brighten up the cold, sterile spaces
that hospital rooms can sometimes be.
it was a photo printed on plastic
made to look like we were looking out through a sky light
and were beneath some balloons sailing through the sky.
had the light been on,
it would have looked even more real.
but the lights were dimmed,
and all i saw was a darker version of this cheerful sight.


and it made me think back...
"oh, yeah, whatever happened to those photos i took
on my way home one day last fall...
of the balloon that was in the sky?
i totally forgot about those!
i need to dig those up and see if i could make something of them."


well, i did just that.
in fact, when i finally found them, i discovered they were taken
about one week before i even knew you existed.
you had been growing in my tummy for just a couple weeks.
but when the balloon shots were taken, i didn't know you were there.
here i was, a half year later,
on a table,
looking up,
waiting for you,
thinking about how far i've come,
wishing i had received better news,
but still so very grateful to be there...
to see your face,
to watch your heart beat.
i was once again moved.
by so much.
to tears.


i couldn't wait to get home and look for the photos and process them.
and write about the day.
but you know what i did instead?
i came home and looked up some things about placenta previa {at this stage of pregnancy}
on the internet and did some reading about what i might expect.
right thing or wrong thing to do... i don't know.
but i did it.
and i became discouraged.
and balloons and blue sky went out the window for a time.
and worry took their place.


and this time, my sleepless night was not only filled with thoughts of
"oh, my... how uncomfortable am i!
how i want to sleep right now, but can't, no matter how tired.
how i wish i could make my legs stop tickling/fidgeting."
to
"yikes... this is not good.
there are so many things that could go wrong,
and even if they don't,
i still may very likely have to deliver a little early
and it would be via the c-section i was hoping not to have."
and though i know worry is not good,
i could not help myself.
in fact, i don't even know that it was so much worry
as much as it was just thinking about all that could happen...
how if the previa causes bleeding,
i may have to be hospitalized
or on complete bed rest for the last two and a half months
before you arrive.
how my Rh- blood could pose a problem
should there be bleeding
if you have Rh+ blood.
how i can't afford to be on bed rest...
there's still so much for me to do to get ready for you.
in fact, even if not bed rest, being restricted to what i can do...
no heavy lifting.
nothing strenuous.
yikes!
i still have to go pick up your crib
finish setting up your room
and clean our home like it's never been cleaned before
{that's part of that nesting instinct mamas get}
and baby-proof some of the rooms in our house
and lots of other things.
i can't be sitting around taking it easy!


so i lay there and thought of all these things.
i thought about your safety and health.
i thought about my safety and health.
i thought about money
and what pregnancy or birth complications would mean to our wallets.
i thought about how i have longed since day one
that you will arrive at {or close to} your full-term due date.


and i should have lain there and thought of balloons and fluffy clouds instead.
or about how God is going to take care of us.
but i did not.


however, i did have enough sense to get up and go to the computer
and write and ask a good many people
who i consider near and dear...
people who i know would want the best for you
and would be thrilled to meet you...
if they would pray.
not just for you and for our health and for this pregnancy.
but for me and my mind to be at peace...
that i would not worry or fear.


and aside from praying myself,
it was the best thing i could do in that moment.
i went back to bed,
and though i did not sleep so well the remainder of the night,
i did wake up with a sense of peace...
i actually felt as if many were praying for us.
and my feelings were confirmed when i logged into my e-mail the next day
and many had already written back to let me know they were praying.
in fact, many prayed right there for us in their message.
baby-b, you can't know what that did for me.
it reminded me of so many things...
that God is control.
that He would not bring us this far just to let us go.
that no matter what happens... complications or not...
we will be cared for and are in good hands.
that He is faithful.
that He is good.
that so many care for us
and are so happily awaiting your arrival
and are ready to pray at a moment's notice.
one friend even wrote back and told me that when she read my request for prayer,
she stopped what she was doing
and got down on her knees right there in the middle of her kitchen and prayed.
baby-b... this is the kind of person i want to be...
a "drop everything to pray" kind of person...
for me.
for you.
for others.
for the people in japan who i don't even know.
for my sister.
for my brother.
and i want you to be that way too.


and perhaps i can't give you a lot it this life.
but i can give you this...
the knowledge that having a host of friends and family praying for you
or being part of a host of friends and family praying for others
is one of the most wonderful things you could ever partake in.
and i hope that some day you will meet each and every person that prayed for us.
i know that you will meet many of them.
the whole church choir is praying for us...
i'm sure you'll get to meet them some day.
so many friends and family members praying...
even friends of friends who i have never met.
many of my mom's friends who i don't know are praying for us.
you may never meet them... nor i,
but i'm glad you know about them.
i'm glad i do too.
like i said, i felt the prayers.
i felt the peace.
in fact, i slept like a baby that next night.
and even in my waking hours,
i was able to lay aside worry, and instead, just trust.


and so i was able to quit reading what the web sites say...
what could go wrong...
what will likely happen in my situation.
and i was able to look for those balloon photos.
and i processed them...
and i had a blast doing it!
it's been so long since i took photos... or even just processed old pictures!
and how appropriate they were in so many ways.


i have to say, i was not sure if i would add words to them.
i thought about adding some quotes about prayer
or bible verses or nothing at all.
but when i saw how whimsical they seemed after i processed them,
i thought about the comment i read on a web site on monday.
it was on one of those pregnancy forum sites...
a woman who is in the same exact situation as i am
wrote about how she is disheartened and concerned
that at twenty-eight weeks, her ultrasound revealed
that her previa had not corrected itself
{or the placenta had not migrated upward}
like it does for ninety percent of the women who have it.
another pregnant mom left a comment on her post
telling her to go read the dr. seuss book, up, up, up
to the baby in her womb and to herself...
in hopes that the placenta would move up.
of course, it was a whimsical, light-hearted encouragement... not real advice.
but i liked that.
i went to your closet to see if that was one of the six or seven
dr. seuss books i have for you.
well, it was not,
so i googled to look for some quotes from the book instead.
i did not find any, but i came across
several other sweet little dr. seuss quotes
that i found very appropriate for my blog post and these photos...
and for this time in the pregnancy.


so here they are.
none really having anything to do with the other...
in fact, some not even really having to do with this post.
but i like them all.

i love this last one... it's from one of my favorite of his books.

in fact, you will soon be hearing me read it to you

while i sit in our glider chair...

maybe even tonight.

oh, i almost forgot, baby-b.

we are not "out of the woods" yet.

and there is still a risk of some things to "go wrong".

but one thing i do know...

there are many who are praying for us still.

and we are in very good hands...

the doctor's,
and more importantly, God's.

and, no matter what,

i love you more than anything

and will do anything to keep you safe...

now and for the rest of my life.

and lots of women and their babies get through this.

so i know we can too!

and one more thing.

i went yesterday to get that rhogam shot

in case our blood types are incompatible.

while i was there, i asked the nurse to check my chart

and see if my previa is considered posterior or anterior.

this makes a big difference,

because if it is posterior,

there is a much better chance that it may yet change

{there is a higher chance that the placenta will "migrate" upward},

than if it is an anterior previa.
well, she informed me that IT IS posterior!!
woo hoo!

i had already felt a lot of peace because i knew many were praying for us.

but then when i got that news, i felt even better!!

and even if it doesn't move up, up, up...

you

and

i

are

going

to

be

okay.

i love you.

~mama-b