Dear Maytali

It's been a year and a day since my last post, almost two and a half years since your birth/death. Each day has its challenges and each day finds my mind lingering over thoughts about you.

The grief has taken a new form and most days I find myself wiping big dew drop tears from the corner of my eyes. Davi has gotten used to my heavy sighs, my face, as it grows solemn and my eyes sorrowful, he reaches to hug me, and I imagine you and he both in that embrace.

I miss you, and I sit most times now not knowing what to do with all the mixed emotions. After I birthed you, I had the damn morphine (now I get Jolie Holland's song -- give me that old fashioned morphine...) splitting my reality, so that I was so discombobulated that I didn't shred and tear those that tried to take you from my arms. I so wanted to hold onto you, like the bereft gorillas, who hold their dead babies until they fall apart, because THAT seemed natural to me. Not macabre, not gruesome. It's as though nature knows that a mother needs to fill her arms with the weight of death and when she has come to accept that truth, the corpse disintegrates. I dressed a stuffed bunny (the perfect size and heft) in a onesie that was given to you. I held it secretly, and when the secret got out, she, like you, went away. I should have held onto her longer.

I feel like I betrayed you somehow in the first year after you died. Every day had it's trivial frustrations, and each time people would remind me how, in some ways, things were easier since I didn't have you. I actually slept at night, I didn't suffer from the pain of sleep deprivation, which robbed me of my sanity after Davi was born. And the days where I did feel the most tired, or the tidal mood swings that are so unique to post partum, I even believed it myself that it would have been so much harder caring for two babies. What lunacy my mind concocted in order to eek me through each day, in order, more importantly, to keep me from facing the truth that I never wanted you more, never loved you more, never felt so cheated and rudderless before in my life. Your death sealed in my heart that life was no longer full of hope, but rather, full of unexpected life tragedies. I did what I could to dodge the fear mines.

I realize now that fear is much more familiar a place for me to go to, and a much easier place for me to navigate life through. Feeling bereft, feeling entitled to you, feeling angry and cheated were not. If I had been there two years ago, I am doubtful that I would have finished school and been there for Davi.

And now, two and a half years later, the pregnancy is a remote memory. But my belly fat is a constant reminder that I held you dearly. The longing I have for you is immeasurable, just as I weep tears of joy when I was in the presence of His Holiness two days ago, I weep with an open heart just thinking about you. Today at Ruby's Garden, there was a sale on Tea clothing. I bought davi clothes, and she brought my attention to the girl's dresses. My heart skipped a beat, as it also always does when people ask me if I only have one child. I wish you were here for me to dress you, to comb your hair, to feed you, to have nursed you, to watch you grow with Davi.

I believe you to be spirited, to have a mind solely your own, to have a warrior's heart, and that is why you chose to leave this world. Tiggy is my consolation as she is so much how i felt you in my womb to be.

Davi is my breath, my heart, my joy, my growth, my friend. And I pray that you will watch over him.

A year and some - an ode to the drink

Time, it's supposed to be the great equalizer or normalizer. Somehow, and I don't know where or how we all got suckered into believing this, it's all supposed to get better or easier with time.

But I'll tell you this, it's been a year and five months and I am as rudderless, as numb, and disoriented as I was when Dana could not find Maytal's beating heart. The shock is still with me, and it has just occurred to me that I've been running from the truth that my baby girl is dead. D - E - A - D.

So what have I done in the past year? Great question. The only thing I know is that as disciplined as I was to take prenatals during my pregnancy, I have (without much thought mind you), had copious amounts of scotch, wine, margaritas and beer. I think I consciously missed maybe two (not in succession) days. I drank scotch (always my drink of choice - but more so this past year) with such great abandon that you would think that I was in a class with Hemingway. For all this, I did manage to finish graduate school, move to SF, undertake a remodel (with my parents partially funding and offering their very sweet and capable Korean contractor), entertain my three year old, transition him (and myself) to preschool, nurse my geriatric, insulin dependent feline children, and somehow stay married (remodel and all - can you say culture shock i.e. my husband is jewish and oh so not Korean (as I found out during this renovation)... I write this not in any way to get a pat on the back, or to garner sympathy or kudos, I do this only as an exercise to say how the fuck could I have done this without a little grease in the wheels, a little ghee in my pan?

I discovered Rye Manhattans thanks to Barb who so lovingly entertains my erratic mood swings (can you believe that I just put two and two together - lots of alcohol - mood swings.... hmmmm). Call her my enabler if you will, and I would have too prior to losing a child, but I call her my dearest confident, best friend/sister. She stokes my will to live, not an easy feat.

After graduation, we took the little one on an Amtrak train up to Portland, Oregon. It was our first trip since Maytal died, and it felt like our first trip as a family. Tamir and I had forgotten how to be together. Forever with Iphone in hand (he actually devised a piece of "jewelry" for his earphones, so he could keep the earphones on him at all times - plugged in to all manner or podcast, or tune out - alcohol for me, NPR for him - whatever floats your boat, whatever gets you through the day I say). The lil one doing his best to make sure that I wouldn't start to cry out of the blue, or act irrationally. Oregon is beautiful, the coast stunning like California's. Barb came to meet us, and brought humor and fun to the trip. She entertained the lil one, as Tamir and I got reacquainted. We used my quest for drink as tour guides. Microbreweries and rye manhattans (whose got the best?) our soundtrack, as well as NPR.

Sidenote - Poor boo, the effects of losing a child in this manner affect the living child no matter what. I never wanted to fetishize Maytal, the dead baby, making her more real than had she been if she were alive. And yet, there I was crying, reacting irrationally from my hormones rebounding after pregnancy. Seeing her in every rainbow (see first post), talking about her when people ask me if I have only one child... Trying to explain to him why our friends got to have babies when ours died, it's all so impossible.

So, as this period of grieving starts to tip over to a year and a half of mourning, I have come to some sense in realizing that the drink, while serving its purpose, is now doing me a disservice. It will take some time to say good bye to these old friends, but as I read the lil one his favorite book - Goodnight gorilla, every night, I, in my mind's eye, footnote it with my own version - Goodnight Santa Julia Temporilla , Goodnight Honig Sauvignon Blanc, Good Night Reposado Tequila, Goodnight Hanger One Vodka, and goodnight to you beloved Remember the Maine.

on asking why

a lot of people asked this question for us.  i, by some grace, have been granted a reprieve and the question of why me, why us has never taken hold or root in my heart.  i am comfortable with not knowing, despite the fact that all the medical tests came back with no anomalies, on either my or Maytali's part.  No elevated blood cells were found in Maytali's cord blood sample, which would have indicated an infection, no genetic anomalies, nada... which points a big fat finger at the question WHY?!, which happens to be, in normal circumstances, one of my favorite questions...

but not in this instance.  

i believe that most things are so much bigger than we are, and found a quote from Rilke which speaks to this so much better than I...

I beg you... to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is, to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.

Much love to all who have questions, who are searching, may we learn to find some space for not knowing

Mothers

Mary, Madonna, Mother Mary

Mary Idolatry, my mother's Mary.

She has adorned my neck for little under a week now.  A gift purchased for myself, by myself after a visit with another mother, a mother adopted by me to mother me, in the absence of my own. 

 Brilliant blue, Mary Sagrada, trinkets protecting my throat, figurative sutures that tie my head down, when it so wants to be blown off, or at least, labotomized.  Random thoughts of driving my car into a wall entered through the shadows of my mind.  Lurking unannounced and unwelcome, only to find a way to infiltrate when my guard was down.  Finding sense in the abyss, I turned to my mother's Mary.

She has protected me since, chased the demons away, takes vigil by my mind's side when I am too weary with grief or anger.  She brought my own mother back to me, here now, fierce, protective, mothering me as I had mothered her when I was young.   Conjuring solid ground for me to stand on, where there was an abyss of darkness beforehand.  Reminding me of the vibrant blood that flows through my veins, the heart of love that feeds it, the heat that gives palor to my face.  Hojoon that came before us, and the Hojoon that came after us, two bookmarks that hold us in this place, while they watch us from eternity.

I am a mother to Nadav HoGuhn, Maytali, and a mother to my as yet unborn child, who I feel and know so intimately.   I am a mother to myself.  Fierce, protective love to carry me through this journey.. this is my intention, for them and for myself.  Thank you Mommy for reminding me.  You healed me this past week, with your prayers on my worry line, my furrowed brow.

You taught me to love my gakjaengi side, to usher her back and to never feel ashamed again.

treading treading water

There is no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow

Thursdays, SIGH

Thursdays are difficult for me. For obvious reasons. Living was getting a bit more routine and the grip of pain around my heart had subsided. Today, was another story. Not a surprise that it occurred on a Thursday, but a bit unexpected as I had been resuming life.

The emptiness of my arms were palpable, as the weight of your loss made my shoulders droop and hunch over to protect my heart. The tight shell, enabling me to reengage in the world, to come out relatively unscathed as I saw women with ripe bellies, newborns in slings, both ends of the pregnant birth spectrum that only a mother knows. That intense sharing of breath and heartbeat is what I long for now, as I feel the sting of tears at the corners of my eyes. I hadn’t the courage to look at your picture, it beckons me, but today I cannot go.

The new nanny share has started and Emily has been at our house for three weeks. She sat on our couch, all plump and full of life, and I looked at her and immediately felt the tug, the mind leaping and thinking that this is where my daughter should be. A girl, a soft little girl, a companion to davi, a baby girl to nurse at my still full breasts. Big wet tears, big dew drop tears, my Maytali, my dewdrop.

Although I have been behaving like I did not give birth a mere two months ago, drinking copious amounts of wine and beer, sleeping somewhat soundly, running around haggard, yet not the haggard of a woman with a two month old, the sensation in my vagina and pelvic area speak their truth. They still vibrate from opening for you, to release you into this world, only to be returned to earth. They ache, and now my womb releases eggs and blood, what a mystery. A mess and an utter inconvenience to me. Giving me more grief, and making forget that I delivered you, my sweet baby girl. How is it that my body could so easily slip right into fertility?

I look for you everywhere, and almost everywhere Davi seems to find you. He utters your name simultaneously with discovering a rainbow in the most unexpected places. It comforts me and devastates me, does he feel the loss too?

day one, on day fifteen

June 8th is when we thought you would come. June 10th, your medical expected delivery date. We knew you would come early, just as Davi did. I felt you coming to me, my body working, you working inside of me, to make the transition from protected womb, to us, here in this strange world. The surges came frequently and started in May, early and so different from the pregnancy with Nadav. It's your body preparing, Dana would tell me, but I was convinced you would be with us soon. Poppa even named the date, and was off by a day, the 28th he said, but you entered this world of ours, not yours, on the 29th.

How and when your life, as we know it, left you, is a painful yet comforting mystery. Comforting in that our feeble minds are protected from knowing that I did anything "wrong" to end this precious life of yours. Today was the hardest day, as the yartzeit candle's glow faded and is gone, just as you, one day, went numb in my womb.

It was tuesday, the day after memorial day, I dropped Davi off at Safta's. I craved a tuna fish sandwich, ate voraciously and fell into a deep slumber. Awaking to a feeling of stillness that now haunts me. I felt ill, nauseous and even remarked to Safta that I felt as though I had gotten food poisoned and was worried if I could have poisoned you. That night I vomited violently, and felt a chill in my body that I could not relieve. I now feel as though it was your precious soul leaving my body. Poppa spooned me until my teeth stopped rattling, and my body stopped shaking.

That same morning, uncle michael called to tell me to look outside. A rainbow had appeared in the sky, unlike any other rainbow he had ever seen, michael said. There were two, so bright and so luminous, he called to make sure that we witnessed the beauty. Davi and I went out to look, it was midmorning, that Tuesday, before we ventured off to Safta's. Incredibly, the rainbow was a brilliant band directly above our house. I walked down the porch stairs, was standing on the sidewalk, davi in my arms, you in my belly, and I looked up to the right, and there it was. I now think I was looking up at you. My Maytal, HoJoon, sweet baby girl.

I've seen the rainbows since, in our bedroom last tuesday, in the bathtub with Davi, and just as the hummingbird comes to me as halmoni, you will be here with me in the rainbows.

As we were falling to sleep tonight, Davi asked where you are. I told him that you had died. Sorry mommy, he said. I said I was sorry too. Are you sad? He asked. Yes, I am sad. You have another new baby? He almost stated this as if to be true. All day today, I longed for you and in that longing I hoped for another baby, another baby to hold, to nuzzle, just as I had kissed and nuzzled your sweet head when you were born. As I kiss Davi on the forehead I am reminded of the kisses I placed on your head. As I watch him sleep, I see you. Your lips are smaller than his, more like Poppa's, but your features in total resemble him. Longer in limb, lighter (7lbs 4 oz) and every bit as beautiful. My heart expanded when you arrived. To see you I understood how parents say that their hearts expand and make room for love. This is not a zero sum game. In fact, as I held you, there was no thought or trepidation about how much love to go around, as I had worried about, there was only an expanse of love. No mental ruminations, only that expanse of love. I hope I never forget that feeling, that TRUTH.

As I moved you into this world, I felt pain in my body. The pain in my body distracted me from the thought of losing you. An insurmountable loss. Delivering while mourning would have nearly been impossible, so by some stroke of something, my body took on the pain. I lost the will to push you out, I went limp and asked for a cesarian. Gina got my attention and had me change positions, a position that I would never have imagined using in birth. I was on my back, semi lying down, pulling my legs up as I pushed with all my might. I had none of the intuition that guided me through the birth of davi. My own internal compass was missing and I relied on the direction from Gina, Dana and Constance. I pushed hard, three times, screaming from the ring of fire, and then you came to us. Poppa caught you. That's when we found out that I was right, and you were my little girl.

I so wanted to learn to love myself through loving you. I wanted to see a version of myself, my quirks and idiosyncrasies through you. I mourned this loss as well. But you gave me permission to let the love in. Somehow. Because after the birth, as the quiet hushed the room, my mind, too, went quiet. For the first time in my life, my mind went quiet and there was only space. I was in a state of grace. You gave me that state of grace. I love you dear sweet Maytali. my sweet sweet sweet baby girl.