Odds & ends

• Thank you for lending a sympathetic ear (eye?) to my back-to-school rant earlier this week. I always feel better after hammering out a good vent on the keyboard. ;)
• Ranting aside, I have to admit, it felt a little odd Tuesday morning, when I realized for the first time in 26 years, I was not going to be looking out the kitchen window of our house & seeing the neighbourhood kids heading off with their backpacks. (There are a few children living in our condo building, but I haven't seen any in back to school mode this morning.)  LGND (six months younger than Katie would have been) will be entering Grade 12, her last year of high school. Even though it was sometimes hard having her as a yardstick for Katie, we knew her from the day her parents brought her home from the hospital, and it seems a bit strange that we won't be there to see how it all turns out & what she does with her life as an adult.  
• I also have to admit that (as usual) it was the anticipation & buildup to the big day that was the hardest... I did get a bit weary of one back to school photo after another by the end of the day, but that's kind of par for the course, I think. Relatively speaking, I think I did OK!
• Thanks also for weighing in on the merits of waterproof mascara & your favourite brands. I picked up a tube of Maybelline Great Lash to try before the big day. Not sure how I will test the waterproof aspect -- maybe look up some sad clips on YouTube?? ;) 
• Peter Mansbridge announced earlier this week that he is stepping down as the anchor of CBC TV's nightly flagship news broadcast, "The National," after almost 30 years in the role. Those of you Stateside, think Walter Cronkite, in terms of his longevity and impact. It's hard to envision the news without him. Appropriately, he will be stepping down after hosting the Canada Day broadcast from Parliament Hill next year on July 1, 2017 -- while will celebrate our amazing country's milestone 150th anniversary.
• I met him once, in the mid-1990s, when he agreed to take part in a silly stunt thing to promote & fundraise for my journalism school's upcoming 50th anniversary (I was an alumni rep on the steering committee). Afterward, he was heading out the door & seemed almost a little surprised when we started crowding around to shake his hand and thank him for coming. The thing that surprised ME most -- something you don't see when he's sitting behind the desk on TV -- is that he is a very tall man, well over six feet, with very broad shoulders. As part of the agenda, we'd had him type out a bit of doggerel on a manual typewriter -- it was still sitting in the typewriter and I took it before I left. I wonder if I still have it somewhere??

Grade 10

Today was the first day of class for most schools across the province. (Not So) LGND was starting Grade 9 today -- high school, hereabouts -- and apparently was not looking forward to the transition. I kept thinking how nice it would have been for her to have a neighbourhood friend -- i.e., Katie, who would have been starting Grade 10 -- to show her the ropes. ; )

Today was not as hard as the same day last year was for me -- the day Katie would have headed off to (gulp!) high school for the first time. Most of my immediate coworkers either don't have kids, or their kids are older & attending university (another story altogether...!).  Several are also on vacation at the moment. So I didn't have to listen to too many stories at the office.

Nevertheless, the annual flood of first day of school photos on Facebook started to wear a bit as the day went on -- I counted just under two dozen photos or school-related posts from my friends & relatives today, not to mention others posted over the past few weeks by those in the States, where school seems to start earlier -- and the promise of more to come tomorrow (seems some schools don't start until then).  Drip, drip, drip, like water wearing away at a stone. :p

Was today difficult for you?

Teenagers in the 'hood

It was pretty quiet in the neighbourhood when I was home sick last week. But around
noon that day, I was upstairs, & I could hear voices/laughter. It seemed to be coming from nearby, but I couldn't see anyone when I looked out the window (although some of the view is blocked by our garage & the neighbours' garages).

I came downstairs to get some lunch & was in the kitchen -- and all of a sudden, I saw a young boy (about 14 -- someone I've seen occasionally hanging around with the Little Girl Next Door) jumping over the split-rail fence that separates our yard from the next-door neighbours', & running across my front yard, down our driveway and down the street, looking over his shoulder at one point.

I thought, "OK, NOW what?? What has he been up to?" I opened the front door a crack -- & there were two or three other young guys, standing on LGND's doorstep.

I quietly closed the door again. And tried not to laugh. (Too much.) I didn't see LGND, but I am thinking she was either there & had been talking to them, through a crack in the door or through the front window, or they were just knocking on the door to see if she was home.

LGND, as I've written before, is six months younger than Katie would have been -- i.e., 13 years old. 

The other night, I had brought some work home with me and was upstairs in our "office," when again, I heard a lot of giggling, squealing & "Nooooo!"s. I looked out the window & saw LGND and her gaggle of girlfriends, standing out front, cellphones glowing in the twilight.

Today, I was at the kitchen sink, and a boy came riding his bike down the sidewalk, peering intently at our house as he passed.  I wondered why he was so interested in our house. Then I recognized him -- it was the same boy from last week. He wasn't looking at our house, he was looking at LGND's -- probably trying to ascertain if she was home or catch a glimpse of her.

Yes, we have teenagers in the 'hood. ; )

When I told dh, he rolled his eyes & muttered a few choice words about how LGND was way too young for this kind of thing, etc. etc.  LGND used to adore him (as most little girls do);  these days, of course, she's usually with one of her friends or absorbed in pecking at her cellphone, so we're lucky to get a perfunctory wave as we pass each other coming and going.

Having been a teenaged girl once myself, I think he's being rather harsh... of course, he insists that Katie would NEVER have been like THAT. Yeah, right... ;  )

Holy cr*p...

"what should i do with my hair for grad pics?? plz help" 

I don't know why this post on Facebook tonight, from dh's cousin's son -- the one born in April 1998, six months before Katie should have been born -- should have been such an "OMFG" moment for me. 

I know Katie would have been in Grade 8 this year at school. 

I know that, at local schools, Grade 8 is the last year before high school (at others, it's Grade 9). 

I know that junior high school grad has become a big f-ing deal for teenagers these days (the preparations so elaborate, including fancy dresses, tuxes, manicures & pedicures & hairdos and even limousines, that I have heard some of parents wonder what their kids will have to look forward to when they graduate from high school, nevermind get married). 

I even voted on dress photos posted by an online friend in another province, whose daughter is graduating Grade 9 this spring & already desperately seeking THE Perfect Dress and planning her prom.

And it never dawned on me that, in a parallel universe, I might be doing exactly the same things -- shopping for prom dresses, fussing over hair for grad pictures. With Katie. This year. 

Maybe it did dawn on me and I was just in denial. (I'm not old enough to have a daughter who would be graduating junior high school, am I? It hasn't really been FOURTEEN!!! years, has it??) 

Thank goodness Little Girl Next Door (born in April 1999, six months after Katie would have been born) is only in Grade 7 this year. I'm not quite ready to see her leaving the house wearing a prom dress yet.

Odds & ends

• Little Girl Next Door -- my yardstick for how big Katie might have been, what she might have been doing, how she might be dressing, etc. etc. -- turns 12 very soon. For all intents & purposes, however, she is already looking & acting scarily like a teenager. I've noticed a big shift in attitude lately. Until just recently, whenever we'd see each other coming & going, she'd wave enthusiastically, yell out, "Hi Sam! Hi Lori!" and sometimes come over & regale us with longwinded chatter. During the recent March break, however, we saw her coming & going with her friends several times (cellphones in hand)(!!), & were lucky if we got a perfunctory nod. I had to laugh, though -- I saw them leaving one evening, tote bags & pillows in hand, obviously headed for a sleepover. For all their grownup airs, they both still had teddy bears sticking out of the back of their bags. ; )
• Speaking of 12-year-olds... dh & I have to attend a funeral visitation this weekend (nobody close, but a relative's inlaw). There will be lots of his relatives in attendance, including one of his cousins & his wife. The oldest of their two sons is 12 -- his mother was pregnant with him at the same time I was pregnant with Katie. Katie was stillborn in early August, he was born in late September, & Katie was due in mid-to-late November. Difficult as it sometimes is to hear about what he's doing in school, etc., I'm always thankful that (a) he's a boy & (b) his parents are often yelling at him. ; )
• Interesting article in the New York Times about the preference among some (mostly evangelical Protestant) religious congregations for married ministers. Preferably with stay -at-home wives (who presumably have lots of time & energy to spare to helping run the church -- free of charge, of course). And children, of course. How many great ministers are these congregations missing out on because of their insistence on conforming to a certain ideal?
• So many new people -- YOUNG people, most of them women in their early/mid-20s, unmarried -- have joined us at work in recent months. And each time I get talking to one of them, up pops the question: "Do you have any kids?" I just tell them no. Sometimes I'll add that I have two grown nephews. I can see that they are so eager for role models, for someone to tell them that it's possible to have it all -- marriage, motherhood, a career. I'm always sorry to disappoint them. Although (proud feminist though I am) I'm not entirely convinced that it IS possible to have it all -- all at once, anyway. (Which certainly doesn't mean we should stop trying.)
• I've been thinking a lot about work issues lately & the relationship between work and childless/free life (and MY childless/free life, specifically) -- fodder for a future post, perhaps....

Easter Sunday blues

Even when I was a kid, I remember feeling that Sunday was a melancholy sort of day. And even though dh & I are taking the day off work tomorrow, the Sunday blues hit me hard today.

It started when I was watching Bill Moyers Journal on PBS (which, sadly, is down to its last few weeks before going off the air for good) & watching a clip of Martin Luther King's final speech ("I have been to the mountaintop... and I have seen the Promised Land... I may not get there with you..."), which was delivered in Memphis 42 years ago today. For some reason, I found myself reaching for the Kleenex.

After that, we made some lunch & turned on the radio to listen to the Vinyl Cafe on CBC. Today's show was from a small town that I know well -- not a place where I have ever lived, but in the same part of the country. The local references made me homesick. The story in the featured reader's letter was poignant & the story of the day was more wistful than funny -- a story involving a grandfather's funeral. At the end of the story, I completely lost it & started sobbing.

Then we went to the cemetery, & I cried some more.

Maybe I have the Sunday blues today because it's Easter Sunday. I've written before about how I find certain holidays difficult -- perhaps one of the most difficult things about living childless/free after loss & infertility. Christmas isn't so bad, since we are usually at home with my family, but I find I have a harder time with Easter & Thanksgiving. Dh & I often find ourselves at loose ends on these days (my family is 1,000 miles away, FIL is often with stepMIL's family & BIL is with his wife's family). The contrasts between my memories of how we celebrated these holidays when I was growing up, the way I thought I would be celebrating them (carrying on family traditions, with my own children), the way most people seem to be celebrating them (with their families, posting photos & tales of big family dinners & Easter egg hunts with excited children dressed in new pastel-coloured finery) -- & the reality (just the two of us, spending a quiet day at home) is sometimes a little hard to digest.

Maybe because I've been super busy & stressed at work lately, with responsibility for a major project (that finally got submitted on Tuesday) & more changes afoot.

Maybe because the Little Girl Next Door, who is just six months younger than our Katie would have been, celebrated her 11th birthday this week -- had to tell us about it, of course, when we saw her outside a few days ago. She had a gaggle of her girlfriends over on Saturday to celebrate.

Maybe because we've been watching the adorable little blond guy from down the street todding around -- & realized that his mother is hugely pregnant, & there will soon be two of them to watch wistfully from our window.

Maybe because two houses on our street recently went up for sale -- & we realized that it will be 20 years next month since we moved into this house. "I NEVER thought we'd be here for 20 years," dh said. "Me either," I said. "I thought once we had a second child we'd move up to something bigger." We both gazed out at our big, kid-friendly, little-used backyard & hugged each other. Life is funny sometimes....

Maybe because, for the past 10 years or so, I've noticed an uptick in my stress & anxiety levels at this particular time of year. Last year, the problems I was having with what seemed to be food allergies/reactions peaked right around this time. I haven't had any such problems in quite some time (maybe because I haven't had a tomato in a year??), but I did notice some redness today after dinner (I'm suspecting some undercooked carrots & celery), which had me on edge all evening.

Maybe I've found this time of year stressful over the past decade, because March 22nd marked 12 years since I watched, open-mouthed, as two bright blue lines popped into view on the hpt in my hand -- turning my world upside down & changing my life forever.

I guess there are lots of reasons why I might be feeling a little blue this Easter Sunday.

Fortunately, dh talked me through it. And, as I said earlier, we both have tomorrow off & are going to the mall. (When the going gets tough... the tough go SHOPPING! lol)

Easter 2009

Easter 2008

Spring break/odds & ends

It's spring break hereabouts. You would think that, as a non-parent, spring break would not affect me.  

You would be wrong. 

On a positive note, the commuter train tomorrow morning is almost guaranteed to be much less crowded (& much more quiet!) than usual. It will be easier to find a parking spot. It won't be as crowded at the coffee shops in the concourse below my office tower in the morning. 

However. 

It will be next to impossible to get hold of certain people at the office next week -- who are off with their kids to Florida, or Mexico, or Cuba or the DR, or skiing in Collingwood or Mont Tremblant or Whistler, or just hanging around the city, checking out the King Tut exhibit at the art gallery or the dinosaurs at the local museum. 

There will be more than the usual number of children wandering through the underground PATH that links the office towers of downtown Toronto. 

Restaurants are likely to be very busy. Dh & I decided to go to Jack Astors for dinner on Saturday night. (The Jack Astor's in question is located in a big-box complex that includes a multiplex movie theatre and a Chuck E. Cheese.) I said to dh, "It's going to be either totally dead or insanely busy" (because of spring break), & even though it wasn't even 5 p.m. yet (!), we still had to wait for a table. 

The afternoon rush-hour train home is likely to be just as packed as usual, if not more so -- with an added contingent of parents & kids heading home from an excursion into the city. Many of them don't normally ride the trains, & aren't aware of the "norms" of polite train behaviour that the rest of us have come to know over the years. Things like, if you're going to stand & stare at the board that announces what trains are leaving from what track, try not to do it smack dab in the middle of the path, thus blocking the way for those of us who already know (from years & years of taking the same train from the same track). Things like, if you're going to sit on the steps that lead to the upper level, you should try to get up & clear the path well before the train starts pulling into the next station to allow other travellers an easy exit. Things like trying to keep the conversation to a reasonable decibel level. 

I remember vividly one trip home during spring break a few years ago, when two moms & half a dozen kids piled onto the train dh & I normally ride. They were practically bouncing off the walls with excitement from their outing -- in sharp contrast to those of us who had put in another long day at the office & wanted nothing more than to nap or read our newspapers in peace. ; ) The train was already 3/4 full and there was no way they were going to find six seats together. So a few of them sat in seats relatively close to each other. Two of the kids sat on the steps heading to the upper level, & one sat on his mother's lap (although it became apparent he wasn't going to stay there long). 

And then they proceeded to shout at each other across the length of the car for the 25-minute duration of the trip. One of the moms let the kids take her cellphone to play with, & then proceeded to shout at them about what to text message to their father. The kids would then shout back what dad had text messaged back, & she would shout back what to text message him in reply. 

Needless to say, dh & I were very glad to exit the train that day. 

*** *** *** 

Speaking of the office, a new person has moved into the cubicle kitty-corner from mine, which has mostly been occupied by part-time students recently. She's with us on "secondment" for the next several months and, since her arrival, the noise level has increased substantially -- lots of calls (both on the office phone & personal cellphone), lots of personal calls to & from her child's nanny, & lots of chit-chat with one of the moms nearby, whose baby is about the same age, comparing mommy notes. 

As I think I've written before, I've been lucky: the majority of my immediate co-workers over the past 20 years or so have either been young singles or newlyweds, or older women who were either childless or had older children. So I'm not used to all the mommy chatter. There are getting to be more & more parents of babies & young children around the office, though (& likely to be more in the near future), so I guess I'd better (try to) get used to it. Or get a good pair of earplugs. ; ) 

*** *** ***

Little Girl Next Door, who will turn 11 shortly -- my yardstick for all things that Katie might have been wearing, doing etc. -- is outside right now with her friends today, zooming around on her rollerblades. 

Last week, I arrived home from work (by myself -- dh was working late) & she was outside with a friend. "Guess what, Lori?" she said to me. "My mom got tickets for Disney on Ice this Sunday! We're going with my aunt & my cousin." "That's great," I said, thinking of my own childhood (& grownup, lol) ice show excursions -- & how much I would have loved to share my love of figure skating with Katie. "You're going to have a great time!" 

A few weeks earlier, when dh & I arrived home from work, she was outside -- waiting for us, no doubt -- & eager to show off her new "toy" -- a cellphone. I've since seen her standing outside, talking on it. And felt very old. Ten-year-old girls with cellphones?? Katie with a cellphone? I guess it could have happened. It's a very different world than the one I grew up in, that's for sure.

Eleven

Today was my due date in 1998 (the original one of several I was given). It could have been today, or earlier, or later -- but in an alternate universe of happy endings, sometime about now, Katie would have been celebrating her 11th birthday. I saw the Little Girl Next Door outside on her bicycle today, and wondered once again whether she & Katie would have been friends & pictured the two of them together at Katie's birthday party.

My due date, for me, has never had quite the same significance as my loss dates. It's a lot harder for me to imagine what might have been than to remember what was. Emotionally, I don't think it's ever packed the same sort of punch for me (except maybe surviving it, that very first year).

But I couldn't help but think of our little girl today & wonder (for the millionth time) about what might have been. It was a nice day outside, and dh & I took advantage of it by venturing out into our big, kid-friendly but little-used backyard and raking up the leaves that have fallen off the trees over the past few weeks.

One of the trees is "Katie's tree." We didn't start out to plant a tree in Katie's memory. The neighbours have some big maple trees that overhang our yard, & from time to time, the maple keys will sprout in my backyard flower beds & planters into little miniature trees. I normally pull them up without much thought. About a year after we lost Katie, one such hardy sprout made it through the winter unpulled, & had gotten so large that dh took a shine to it and decided to plant it as "Katie's tree." I wasn't sure it would survive (& it pained me to think of the tree meeting the same fate as its namesake -- which is why we didnt' plant a tree in her memory before that) -- but it did. It grew & grew, tall and straight, and must be at least 30 feet high now. Unfortunately, I don't have a photo of it to show you here -- must remember to take one sometime!

So I looked up at Katie's tree & marvelled at how big it's grown -- just as I'm sure I would have been marvelling at my daughter, if she were here. Dh & I raked 11 bags full of leaves -- which somehow seemed entirely appropriate. ; ) We showered & went out for dinner & toasted our daughter with Coke.

I can't believe she'd be 11.

Last year's post (10 years old)

Two years ago (9 years old)

Odds & ends...

The dreaded M-Day (this year featuring a new form of torment & indignity -- a baptism to attend!!) is fast approaching. This will be my 10th M-Day as a babylost mama. Most of the time I do pretty well, I think... but M-Day still has the power to make me want to hide under the covers (not possible this year). I can't wait to get the hype over with.

I told dh last night that I had discussed my feelings about M-Day & the baptism with the employee assistance program counsellor I've been seeing. (Infertility & babyloss issues aside, I'm also a little nervous about the post-ceremony luncheon, at a local Italian restaurant, because of the food reaction issues I've been having lately (no tomato sauce for me!) -- and especially since I will likely already be in an emotional/anxious state.) .

Normally, he is sympathetic & says exactly the right thing -- but this time, he suggested that it maybe it was time to try to move on & let go of some of these feelings (!) & try to enjoy the baptism (!!).

Dear, deluded dh -- HOW long have you known me?? And how long have we been living with the loss of our daughter, and infertility??

I told him I think I'm doing pretty well overall, thank you very much -- and I'm sure I will cope with the baptism nicely when the time comes -- but I reserve the right to be sad/pissed off on (& before, & after…) Mother's Day. I think I'm entitled. End of story. :p

As I wrote last year, my usual M-Day strategy is… avoidance, lol. However, this year, there's another alternative activity for any of you living in the Greater Toronto Area. An organization called Conceivable Dreams: The OHIP for IVF Coalition is sponsoring a Mother's Day "Pram Push." They're asking Ontario's infertile families and their friends to join in a march to promote infertility awareness (and the restoration of OHIP funding for IVF), beginning at 10 a.m. at Nathan Phillips Square, up University Avenue to Queen's Park.

I'm hoping this will generate some good press coverage. Hoping…

*** *** ***

Speaking of my food allergies… as per Dr. Allergist's suggestion, I have been taking a daily (non-drowsy, thank Gawd!) antihistamine for the past two weeks, to see if that helps "break the cycle" I was in. I'm to continuing taking it until I go back to see her in July. So far, so good. Mind you, I am still being careful -- we have yet to try going out to a restaurant for supper, & I am still avoiding all tomatoes & tomato products like the plague -- but I have been taking baby steps to expand my diet again, even venturing back to the company cafeteria for lunch now & then, when they're serving something I regard as relatively "safe" I've still noticed a wee bit of red or pink spots on my chin & throat from time to time after eating (sometimes before eating too, which I chalk up to stress/anxiety) -- but it's been very minimal/mild compared to what I had been experiencing. Yay!

*** *** ***

As I alluded in my post for Tertia's book shower, I am never at a loss for something to read (case in point: the piles (yes, plural) of unread books stacked by my bedroom night table, and more in the basement, where our IKEA bookshelves have overflowed onto the floor) -- and with several bloggers putting out books recently, my to-read piles just keep on growing. : )

Just as I was finishing Tertia's book, Silent Sorority by Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos (better known to ALI bloggers as Pamela Jeanne of Coming2Terms) arrived in the mail. I'm reading that one right now.

I'm (im)patiently waiting for Navigating the Land of IF by Melissa Ford (Stirrup Queen extraordinaire) to arrive -- I'm betting the copy I won from Julie at A Little Pregnant (yay!) will beat the copy I ordered through Amazon.ca.

I also picked up It Sucked and Then I Cried by Heather Armstrong, better known on the Internet as Dooce. I had never heard of Dooce until several bloggers mentioned meeting her at last year's BlogHer conference in San Francisco. I checked out her blog & while she definitely falls into the category of mommyblogger (albeit one who's had her own struggles, with PPD), she is also hilarious & worth a read. (But be forewarned -- she is in the last few weeks of her second pregnancy at the moment.)

I have yet to start reading the next Barren B*tches Book Club selection, The Red Tent by Anita Diamant, which we'll be discussing towards the end of this month.

I'm also trying to get to Angels & Demons by Dan Brown before seeing the movie (which opens next Friday, May 15th. And My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult, and The Time Traveller's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, which have also been adapted into movies, coming out this summer. Too many great books, too little time… (Of course, I'd probably have more time for more books if I could just tear myself away from the damned computer once in awhile…).

*** *** ***

Now that spring is here, kids are popping up like dandelions all over the neighbourhood, running up & down the street to & from each other's houses. Little Girl Next Door's trampoline is up, and almost every night, we arrive home to see a cluster of leggy little girls (there never seem to be less than three), all around the same age our daughter would have been (10), gleefully bouncing, shrieking and giggling.

One day I answered a knock on the door, & LGND was there with two of her friends. They were all dressed up, wearing crinolines and tiaras and smudgy gloss on their lips. They had dropped something over the side of the fence & were asking permission to go into our backyard to retrieve it.

I gave them a bemused smile & waved them on back, saying they didn't need to ask, to go ahead. And I shook my head as I closed the door.

She is getting so big.

November, again

My Halloween kicked off, at work, by reading C's heartbreaking post, marking one year since the stillbirth of her son, Callum.

Then I went downstairs to the food court to get a tea. And ran smack dab into the kids from the building's daycare centre, dressed up to the nines for Halloween, and being escorted by their caregivers (all wearing funny hats & headdresses) on a tour of the merchants in the concourse for trick-or-treating. With a gaggle of beaming, camera-toting mommies & daddies tagging along.
I've worked in this building for 20 years, and this is an annual event, so I'm not sure why I was so taken aback by the sight of them. It just had totally slipped my mind as something that I might encounter this morning.

I was also taken aback by my reaction. I was more than just teary-eyed, as I have been some years, at the sight of them (& the sound of their excited, childish voices). Great big tears rolled down my face & blurred my vision as I tried to get money from the cash machine, & I gasped as I tried to choke them back. I had to find a quiet corner (where hopefully nobody I knew could see me), wipe my eyes & try to compose myself before going back upstairs to my desk and my colleagues.

I went to the bathroom & there was a pink stain on the toilet paper. AF arrived, a trifle early for me, on day 29. Well, that explains it (at least in part).

Came home & handed out treats to the 101 tricksters who landed on my doorstep, including the little girl next door, who was our first visitor -- dressed as Sharpay from "High School Musical." (I HAVE heard of HSM, although the significance of Sharpay escapes me...!) She went out later with some of her friends. I kept wondering whether she & Katie would have gone out together. And thinking back to other Halloweens, as we've watched her grow up.

Her very first Halloween, when she was about six months old (and Katie would have been on the verge of turning one), her parents dressed her up like a flower & sat her in her swing in the hall by their front doorway to greet the trick or treaters. I remember laughing & crying at the same time when I went out on my front porch to light the candle in my jack o'lantern & saw her. She was adorable.

The next year, she came over for her very first trick or treating, dressed as a bunny. She was so little she could barely climb up the front steps. The next year, however, when she was 2.5, she was a little cowgirl. We were the first house she came to, & she wasn't quite sure what this was all about. I put the candy in her bag & she looked at it, & looked at me & said, with surprise and delight in her voice, "Oooohhh!!" lol About a half hour later I saw her tearing up a driveway down the street, with her mom running after her. I said to dh, "She caught on fast!" lol

Our nephews have always lived too far away to come to our house for trick or treating (and we were never invited to go there to be part of their fun -- I suppose their parents -- and we -- always thought we'd have kids of our own to take out for Halloween someday...), but cousin/neighbour's wife used to bring their two little girls over. I would have special baggies made up with Laura Secord chocolates in it for them (honouring the memory of kind older neighbour of my childhood, who used to spoil my sister and me, and a couple of the other neighbourhood kids, with big baggies filled with chocolate every year). Being 17 & 15 now, they are too old for trick or treating & haven't been over in years. (I remember the huge disappointment I felt the first year they didn't show up at my doorstep, & I was left, literally, holding the (candy) bags.)

Of course, some kids don't know when to quit, it seems. One of the last bunches of kids I shelled out for before closing up shop around 9 p.m. was a group of five great big hulking teenaged boys. After they left, dh said, "When your voice starts changing, I think it's time to stop trick or treating," lol. I added, "Yeah, & when you can't put down your damned cellphone long enough to say 'trick or treat' & hold your bag open...!!" That was a new one for me!!

*** *** ***
Halloween, of course, is closely linked to All Saints & All Souls Days, which Mrs. Spit wrote movingly about this week. And to the custom in some countries, particularly the Latino ones, of Dia de Muertos -- Day of the Dead. The company I work for has a sizeable presence in Mexico, and one of my Mexican-born colleagues circulated a PowerPoint presentation to on Halloween morning, explaining the customs surrounding Dia de Muertos.


Ten years ago, when Katie & my grandfather died, our church held a special service for All Saints Day on the Sunday afternoon closest to Nov. 1. Dh & I attended. Families were asked to call in advance if they wanted their loved one remembered in the service leaflet, & I had their names added. We lit candles for them and heard their names read aloud. It was tremendously moving and comforting.

Hearing the name of a dead loved one being spoken can be a powerful thing. Three years ago, in October 2005, dh's uncle passed away in Italy. As is their custom, his family arranged to have a mass said for him at the church one branch of his family regularly attended, close to where dh grew up. It was Nov. 1st -- All Saints Day. It was a rush for us to get home, have a quick dinner, change and drive back into the city in time for the 7:30 service, but we made it. The church only about a third full as we sat down near the front and began talking to other family members as they drifted in.

Several members of dh's family took part in the service, giving readings and leading prayers, and one of his cousins stood up at the beginning and said that, on behalf of [dh's two surviving aunts here in Canada], they wanted to dedicate this mass to the memory of their brother who had just died, as well as their parents and three other siblings who had passed away. Then she started reading their names -- including that of dh's mother -- the mother-in-law I never knew. I felt a lump rise in my throat & tears in my eyes. Dh took my hand & I squeezed it. He said he too was struck with a wave of emotion as the names were read aloud. And he silently added Katie's name to the list.

At the end of the service, we got up. To our amazement, the pews behind us were packed. Some of the people were no doubt faithful parishoners attending mass as a matter of course -- but most were relatives, cousins, friends, paisan from the old country -- and there are many who live here in the Toronto area -- who had heard & come to offer their support. I wondered how many people would have come to Katie's funeral, had we not opted for a private, immediate-family-only service.

*** *** ***

So now it's November... "the cruellest month," as I blogged last year. All the things I found depressing about November then still hold true now. With the time change, we've been plunge into darkness. It's dark when we get up and dark when we leave for work. It was still light when our train pulled out of Union Station shortly before 5 tonight, but almost dark by the time we arrived home around 5:30.

Some day, it will be light again. Until then, I guess I'll just muddle through as usual...!

The little girl next door

Another blogger (and I can't for the life of me remember who -- my apologies!) recently wrote a post not too long ago about "shadow children" -- the babies born close in age to the children we should have had, the measuring sticks & constant reminders of how big our kids would be & what they would be doing right now.

My shadow child or measuring stick lives next door. Her parents moved beside us in the spring of 1998, right around the same time that I got pregnant. (They replaced -- much to my infinite relief -- an incredibly fertile family with four kids, who plied us with not-so-subtle hints, comments & outright questions about when we were going to follow suit & pop out a few -- didn't we think kids were great? Didn't we want a few of our own? We should really get on that, you know. Ugh!!).

We didn't know the new neighbours very well (we still don't -- we're friendly but not overly so), but dh & the husband often chatted while tending to yard work. Dh mentioned we were expecting, and that we had been trying to have a family for awhile, & the husband said they had too. When I lost Katie in August, I was incredibly touched when they sent over a bouquet. I saw the wife in the yard one day & thanked her. She seemed a little nervous but said they were thinking of us and hoped we'd have another baby soon.

I chalked up her nervousness to the subject matter & the general awkwardness most people generally feel around the bereaved (especially bereaved parents of dead babies), but several months later, I began to suspect she might have had another reason. We both leave the house around the same time every morning, & I often see them coming & going from the vantage point of my kitchen window, which faces onto both of our front yards & driveways.

"Does she look like she's gaining weight?" I asked my dh one day. "Or do you think she might be pregnant?" Underneath the heavy winter clothes, it was kind of hard to tell. One night in March, coming home, we could see them through the front bedroom window, painting the walls a lavender colour. Shortly afterward, we saw people carrying gift-wrapped boxes into the house, and soon after that, the box for a crib was set out for collection on garbage day. Shovelling snow one day at the same time as the husband, dh asked him if they were expecting. "Yes, next week!" the husband said nervously. (!!!)

Their little girl was born in April 1999. Had our own little girl been born in November, as scheduled, they would have been six months apart in age. I envisioned them, two little girls living side by side, natural playmates.

I knew I would have to face this baby some day. I had not held another baby since my stillborn daughter. It was important to me that I be able to choose the time, the place, the baby. I did NOT want my first experience holding a baby, post-loss, to be at a family gathering, with all eyes upon me, watching my reaction. I didn't want an audience to my pain.

So one spring day, I steeled myself & took a small gift & card to their door. The wife answered, holding the baby. We sat on a bench on their front porch as she opened the gift, and she said, "Would you like to hold her?" I said yes and she plopped the baby in my arms. I looked at the wee bundle & took a deep breath. It was hard -- but not as hard as I had thought it might be. She was a little girl, a little younger and smaller than my daughter would have been -- but she was not my baby. And it had been my choice to visit. I knew I had made a good decision.

She is nine years old now. Dh & I have watched her grow up, always thinking of the little girl who would have been growing up alongside of her. She looks nothing like our daughter would have (which helps), and is a grade behind where Katie would have been. Still, she is a yardstick, giving us an idea of where our daughter might have been, more or less -- how tall she would be, what kinds of clothes she would be wearing, what sorts of toys she would be playing with and activities she'd be involved in.

When she was a toddler, we'd often see her playing or riding her tricycle outside, by herself. "She looks so lonely," dh said once. "She should have a friend." We both knew who he was thinking of.

Once she started school, though, friends began coming out of the woodwork. We arrived home one day to find her outside with another little girl, about the same age. When we got out of the car, she called dh's name & announced importantly, "I have a best friend! Her name is Jessica!"

"Her name was supposed to be Katie," I muttered to dh.

Today, she has half a dozen friends in the neighbourhood (would they have been our daughter's playmates too?), running up & down the street to and from each others' houses, piling onto the trampoline in the back yard next door, giggling & shrieking. (Two years ago, one humourless older neighbour actually called the police to register a noise complaint!!) She waves to dh & I whenever she sees us (she especially adores dh -- children always do), tells us about her trip to Disney World, sells us Girl Guide cookies and asks us to sponsor her in the school's Jump Rope for Heart event.

"You & Lori are so good to me," she told dh once, out of the blue.

One time, when she was a pre-schooler, I was in the kitchen & saw the car pull into their driveway. I saw her getting out & stomping up the sidewalk. "You're a MEAN mommy!" I heard her grumble. "Yes, I know, I'm horrible," the mother replied wearily. I tried not to laugh. At least that was one thing I'd never have to hear my daughter say to me (as I'm sure she would have)!

I had been dreading what would have been Katie's first day of Grade 1. Another milestone in my daughter's life, in all parents' lives, that we were not going to experience. Somehow, I got through that day, & I was standing at the kitchen sink, thinking it hadn't been such a bad day after all. Then I saw her. It had been her first day of senior kindergarten, & she came happily skipping down the driveway, her blond hair freshly cut in a shoulder-length bob, wearing a smart little plaid skirt and sweater. Sweet and carefree, yet looking oddly grownup at the same time.

I crumpled into sobs.

Another time, I saw her getting into the car on a Saturday morning, dressed in a fluffy pink tutu, obviously attending a ballet class or recital. That was a hard day, too. Someday, if we stay in this house & they stay in theirs, we will no doubt watch her heading off to her high school prom, graduation, and maybe even her wedding.

I wonder if her parents remember the little girl who was supposed to have lived next door and been her playmate. I wonder if someday they will tell their daughter about her.