There Goes a Man
7 years ago
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
My Ike Baby
Ralphie: Hey Curly, what all happens in a hurricane?
Curly: The wind blows so hard the ocean gets up on its hind legs and walks right across the land.
Born & raised in Miami Beach, I thought I knew hurricanes. But, then on September 13, 2008, I met Ike. He rocked my world.
- He blew kisses at me from afar - 110 MPH winds.
- He put rose petals on my bed - and a tree through my fence.
- He knocked me up - OK, my husband did.
So, here's to you Ike. If it wasn't for you and your gust-ful ways Houston's birthrate wouldn't have spiked in early June & I wouldn't have welcomed the birth of my son.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
My Miscarriage & 9/11
Like most people who lived in the Tri-State area, for the week following 9/11, I was in a perpetual state of shock fuelled by non-stop television coverage, by a permanently altered view from my bedroom window and by the knowledge that but for a twist of fate, I would have been on a PATH train entering the World Trade Center at 8:55 am.
On the morning of September 11th, I was in the waiting room of my OBGYN when the first frantic calls came through. "Are you OK?", my sister asked. "Where are you?" my mother cried. Where was I? I was with my husband waiting for my second post miscarriage/ D&C consult. On the morning of September 11th, I woke with the dread of having to confront my declining fertility. By the afternoon, I realized that it was that decline that quite possibly saved my life .... or at least saved me from some very unpleasant memories.
A collegue of mine who actually made it a habit of getting to work on time, was on the last PATH train before the planes hit. For his efforts, he was rewarded by the sight of dead bodies - people who jumped in order to escape death by fire.
My 9/11 experience taught me that sometimes good things can come from bad. Some people might say that everything happens for a reason, but then to believe that I suppose one would have to believe in some sort of devine intervention, which I don't. I mean, who am I to deserve that.
On the morning of September 11th, I was in the waiting room of my OBGYN when the first frantic calls came through. "Are you OK?", my sister asked. "Where are you?" my mother cried. Where was I? I was with my husband waiting for my second post miscarriage/ D&C consult. On the morning of September 11th, I woke with the dread of having to confront my declining fertility. By the afternoon, I realized that it was that decline that quite possibly saved my life .... or at least saved me from some very unpleasant memories.
A collegue of mine who actually made it a habit of getting to work on time, was on the last PATH train before the planes hit. For his efforts, he was rewarded by the sight of dead bodies - people who jumped in order to escape death by fire.
My 9/11 experience taught me that sometimes good things can come from bad. Some people might say that everything happens for a reason, but then to believe that I suppose one would have to believe in some sort of devine intervention, which I don't. I mean, who am I to deserve that.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
I Like to Watch
Stare at someone long enough and you risk being called a "gawker" or an "ogler", perhaps even a "peeper". But, I don't care. When it comes to babies, I'm all those words & more.
I'm a late comer to the baby appreciation game. Ask anyone who knew me as a child and they'll tell you that I simply wasn't interested, preferring my four legged "babies" to the two legged kind. It wasn't until I met my husband that I actually began to even consider having a baby. I was thirty-four when we got married and thirty-six when I decided to start trying. Four years, three miscarriages, three IVFs & 2 IUIs later my daughter was born. When my daughter turned two, we decided to try for another. It would be another four years 12 IUIs and 2 IVFs before I would welcome the birth of my son.
Perhaps that is why I stare at babies. My experience has taught me that a wanted and loved baby is truly a gift. So, as I write these words, my son is asleep next to me and every now and then, I look up and stare.
I'm a late comer to the baby appreciation game. Ask anyone who knew me as a child and they'll tell you that I simply wasn't interested, preferring my four legged "babies" to the two legged kind. It wasn't until I met my husband that I actually began to even consider having a baby. I was thirty-four when we got married and thirty-six when I decided to start trying. Four years, three miscarriages, three IVFs & 2 IUIs later my daughter was born. When my daughter turned two, we decided to try for another. It would be another four years 12 IUIs and 2 IVFs before I would welcome the birth of my son.
Perhaps that is why I stare at babies. My experience has taught me that a wanted and loved baby is truly a gift. So, as I write these words, my son is asleep next to me and every now and then, I look up and stare.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Video Killed the Radio Star
"Ladies and gentlemen, rock 'n' roll" were the first words spoken on MTV; the first song, "Video Killed the Radio Star" by the Buggles. MTV's launch notwithstanding, 1981 wasn't exatly a banner year for music. But, I didn't care. I was 18 and just glad that disco was finally dead and burried. By the time the '90's rolled around, my taste had drifted more towards metal - Metallica, Def Leopard, Nirvana, Aerosmith , Bush, Green Day ...... In New York, my favorite radio station was K-Rock & when I moved to Houston in 2007, I fell for The Buzz. I might have been over 40, but when it came to music, I thought that I'd never grow up.
So, imagine my surprise when, on my way to Conroe yesterday, I found myself listening to "The Point" and "The Arrow" - both of which feature an '80's format. They might call it "classic rock" but I know that that lable is just a euphemism for "oldies". Me - the "girl" with the eternal Peter Pan complex - listening to an oldies station!
What happened? When did I become middle aged? I know that statistically, middle age begins at about 40. But, who pays attention to statistics? At 40, I celebrated the birth of my first child. At 45, I dreamed of running my first marathon and by the time Ike thundered in, I was running 30 miles a week. Then just three months ago, at 46, I welcomed the birth of my second child. Clearly, both my mind and body have been ignoring statistics.
Given the dicotomy of life, I've decided to table the question. Am I middle aged? If so, I'm in good company and despite the sheer exhaustion that I've felt these past few weeks, I feel more powerful than ever. I've come to realize that the term "middle aged" is meaningless, as it's not our age, but what we do with our time, that defines who we are.
"Video Killed the Radio Star"
So, imagine my surprise when, on my way to Conroe yesterday, I found myself listening to "The Point" and "The Arrow" - both of which feature an '80's format. They might call it "classic rock" but I know that that lable is just a euphemism for "oldies". Me - the "girl" with the eternal Peter Pan complex - listening to an oldies station!
What happened? When did I become middle aged? I know that statistically, middle age begins at about 40. But, who pays attention to statistics? At 40, I celebrated the birth of my first child. At 45, I dreamed of running my first marathon and by the time Ike thundered in, I was running 30 miles a week. Then just three months ago, at 46, I welcomed the birth of my second child. Clearly, both my mind and body have been ignoring statistics.
Given the dicotomy of life, I've decided to table the question. Am I middle aged? If so, I'm in good company and despite the sheer exhaustion that I've felt these past few weeks, I feel more powerful than ever. I've come to realize that the term "middle aged" is meaningless, as it's not our age, but what we do with our time, that defines who we are.
. In my mind and in my car, we can't rewind we've gone too far ...
"Video Killed the Radio Star"
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