another milestone

It's a foggy, rainy night, and even though I am tired of the gloominess,  I rejoice in the fact that January is over, soon the buds will be coming out on the trees, and my belly is growing everyday. The other day Michael's dad told him that life has a way of turning around.  It's been a long, difficult, beautiful, and enlightening journey, full of all kinds of emotion. But the best moment yesterday was when the perinatologist confirmed that our baby, as far as he can tell, is doing well, and appears healthy and strong.  No markers of Trisomy 18, or Down's.  I know nothing is a guarantee, but it was like someone lifted a weight from our heart's.  Michael and I both cried as we watched our baby cross it's legs, put it's hands up to it's face, and show us his bum with a full view.  Yes, it's a boy.  Something we wanted to know, for many reasons, but I don't think it could have been hidden.  He was very happy to reveal to us who he was.  And although we have twenty weeks before we hold him in our arms, it was wonderful to have a little glimpse into the mysteriousness and magical world of our growing baby.  Driving home from the appointment,  I thought of my little Luka, and all that she has taught us.  I miss her, but I know she had a part in giving us a son, and her a brother.  And so we just continue to live day by day.  Embracing the now, the beauty of feeling kicking feet and tickling hands, and hoping for the outcome we have so longed for.

and so a new journey begins

December in Chilliwack. Rainy, damp and dark.  But in the darkness there is a wonderful glimmer of light, and the subtle butterfly movements of new life in my belly.  Yes.  We have made it past the first twelve weeks of pregnancy, and I have a little being the size of a peach moving around inside me. I am due in June.  I have been super sick with all day sickness. As hard as it's been, I am ever so thankful to have felt so awful in my first trimester.  Today I actually ate dinner out, and enjoyed every bite.  So wonderful to enjoy food again.  Today as we listened to the heartbeat at the midwives, and the little kicks and movements, I felt unbelievably relieved, and still completely terrified.  There is still a huge road ahead of us.  We have made it through the first step. Now we just have to keep on going, and trust that all will be as it should be.  I put on my first pair of maternity pants today, (not that I totally need them yet), but they are far more comfortable than my regular jeans.  I also told my students at school today, because there is nothing like the love and support from innocent nine year old's.  One girl asked if we would name the baby Luka again.  As this past few months have gone by I can't help but compare this pregnancy to being pregnant with Luka.  The differences and the similarities. And all the questions.  Will it work out? Will it be healthy? Should we get a million genetic tests? After hours of talking and debating, my heart and soul is content to not know the statistical chance of if I will or will not have a genetically "correct" child.  The stress it would cause me to wait and worry, and in the end not have a definitive answer, is something I'm not willing to go through.  We will have a detailed ultrasound at twenty weeks, with a specialist, and we will go from there.  I am just trying to live in each moment and trust that the universe will provide.  This weekend I sang in my first choir concert in ten years.  Although it has been really hard to be at rehearsals through all my nausea,  I am so grateful for the gift of finding my singing voice again.  Driving to the concert in the dusk, the snowy mountains glowing in the twilight, I began to cry.  Life hasn't been easy the past few years.  But it has given us so many gifts.  And although we don't have our little Luka, I have felt her with us during this very challenging journey.  I am so grateful for her little light that still shines brightly in our hearts, and in the little beating heart of her soon to be brother or sister.
One of the choir pieces we sang this weekend, is by Eric Whitacre, and is the most beautiful choral piece I have ever sung.  The lyrics touch my soul, and not only remind me of our Luka, but of the light and hope to come.

Light,
warm and heavy as pure gold
and the angels sing softly
to the new-born baby.
               

giving thanks

Thanksgiving day, and the sun is shining.  Michael is playing guitar, while he waits for his bread dough to rise.   It's been an amazingly warm fall, and this morning we took advantage of this beautiful fall day, and hiked Teapot hill.  I've always loved fall, and this morning as I felt the coolness from the trees, and watched the sunlight dance in the coloured leaves, I thought of how we conceived Luka at this time of year, three years ago.  So much has changed and so many doors have opened since.  Last night we celebrated Thanksgiving with two wonderful couples and their children. One of the couples has a little girl, and is the same age Luka would have been, if she were still with us.  At first, it was hard to be around her, but I am now so happy to know such a bright, lovely, curious, and special little spirit. I truly believe that our meeting this lovely couple and their adorable little daughter was a gift to us brought by Luka.  As the months have passed, and as we continue to hope to conceive another child, life has lead us to many wonderful things I am thankful for.  Our home, our friends from near and far, our families, my loving husband who tells me I'm beautiful every day, (seriously, he does), my new found love of singing in a choir,  my addiction to Zumba, my little kitty Willow, good food, the sound of Michael's voice when he is singing, a wonderful creative class this year, my ever so comfortable bed, the ability to still cry when I remember my little Luka, and lastly, but most importantly, the opening of my soul to joy.   It's so wonderful to live life with my eyes wide open. To completely fall in love with my husband again, after being together for almost twenty years.  We've booked a trip to Hawaii for spring break, and we're thinking of Europe for next summer.  And if pregnancy happens, well, it will be a huge bonus.  Although I am disappointed every month when there is no positive sign,  I have decided, I need to stay positive.   I will keep on keeping on.  I will continue to have hope.  And I will continue to give thanks, for all that has been given to me, all that I have learned on this journey, and my little Luka, who has taught me that in the end,  love is all that matters. 

mountain climbing

It's a beautiful Labour Day morning, and the rainbow light from our crystal is dancing across our dining room wall, while Willow, our cat, tries unsuccessfully to capture it.  Tomorrow begins another school year, and as I think about all the new things that are to come,  I have also been thinking about this summer.  It's been just two years since Luka died, and I finally feel like myself again.  Grief is not linear.  There are no clear steps or stages.  I believe it's different for everyone.  Losing Luka took part of my soul away, and to be honest, I didn't think it would return.  But there has been a shift this summer, and I feel like I am returning to life, opening up my heart, and realizing how wonderful it is to be alive.  At the end of the school year, in June, I was a mess.  Exhausted, unhealthy, having heart palpitations, full of anxiety and depressed.  I had lost myself, in a hard, emotional, and difficult year.  And by mid July, I knew things had to change.  I went back to the acupuncturist, saw a massage therapist, and began to exercise again.  Exercise. What a glorious thing! As hard as it is to start, when you get in a rhythm, your body begins to relax and open up.  It has been my saving grace. And now I've discovered Zumba, which not only gives me a great work out, it also fills that part of my secret desire to be a dancer.  I feel like a different person.  I am not the same as I was before Luka entered our lives,  I am better.  I am wiser.  I am stronger.  I am more alive.  Luka has brought us so many gifts, and one of those amazing gifts, is the community that surrounds us.  I am so grateful for all the wonderful friends we have, and their love and kindness they have given us on this incredibly challenging journey.  And, as we continue to meet new and wonderful people, I give thanks to my little Luka, for bringing us friendship.  The best thing Michael and I did this summer, was stay in Chilliwack and be in our new home.   It has truly been a healing summer and as fall approaches, I strongly feel that we are beginning a new chapter in our lives.  I don't know what the future holds, and I'm okay with that. What I do know, is that it's going to be a good school year,  and things are only going to get better.  Yesterday, we climbed Elk mountain.  I hadn't climbed it in two years, just before I went back to school after Luka died.  It's not an easy hike and it is quite steep.  There are points you just want to turn back.  But you don't, because you know what's ahead. And reaching the summit and seeing the beauty is worth every step.  Sitting on the top of the mountain, with the sun so close, I know that Luka was with us.  It's been a long climb on our journey of grief, but I am grateful for all the lessons I've learned, and the love I have received.  Michael is making us pancakes and bacon, and in a moment we will sit down and eat breakfast.  We will watch the rainbow of light dance around the room, and laugh at Willow chase it. She may not be able to capture it, but we know deep in our hearts the dancing light lives in us forever.

a letter to Luka on her birthday

Dear Luka,

It's been two years since you came into this world.  Hard to believe, yet so easy to remember.  It's strange how the memories of your birth are still so strong after all of this time.  I can still remember details, smells, feelings, emotions, and touch- like it just happened.  I miss you.  I miss your soft skin, your tiny curls of hair, and your gentle energy.  It's been a hard year, Luka.  Harder than the first. I thought it was supposed to get easier, but the pain of losing you is still so strong.  We've tried a couple of times to give you a brother or sister, but their souls didn't feel ready to enter this world just yet.  It's rainy today, but still warm.  I imagine you with a purple rain jacket and polka dot boots playing in the puddles, your light blonde hair getting curly with the moisture like Mommy's.  If you were here, there would be lots of balloons, and a cake, that I would attempt to bake.  It would look a little sloppy because I'm not a perfectionist, but Daddy would spend the time making it just so.  But you're not here, and I have to live in the now, so we're going to have friends over for dinner, and remember your little spirit with laughter and good food.  We just came back from the ocean, where we watched the waves, walked the sandy beaches, and watched kites dance in the wind.  You were everywhere.  In the sunset,  in the tiny footprints of children along the beach, and in the tall tall trees which I know are protecting you and keeping you safe.  As I watched the other children running and playing on the beach I was angry with the universe for not giving you the chance to experience the life we wanted for you.  But I take comfort that you are no longer in pain, and that you are dancing and laughing in the wind.  We came home from our trip to find out that Sassy, our favorite dog, left this world yesterday to come join you.  After you died, on those horrible dark days, Sassy was our saving grace.  Walking her gave us the ability to trust and find joy again.  We will miss her, but I know you will take good care of her, and go on lots of adventures together.  Make sure you have a big stick for her to carry.  Even though this year has been challenging, there have been many gifts you have sent our way.  Wonderful friendships have blossomed.  We have a beautiful house we love and feel completely at home in.  Our little kitty Willow, gives us so much joy and laughter.  We want a brother or sister for you Luka, and that is proving to be more difficult than we had anticipated.  But we're not giving up.
I have to start cooking dinner now.  We look forward to honouring your little spirit tonight.  And although there will be no cake with candles,  your little light still burns bright in our hearts.
Happy Birthday, little one. 
                                                                                                    Love, with both our hearts
                                                                                                                 Mom and Dad

tandem

June. Finally. And...it's raining.  But rain or shine, the school year is almost over and it will be our first summer in our new home.  I'm looking forward to lazy days, reading a book a day, and enjoying the nature just minutes from our doorstep.  But first, I have to get through report cards, restless students, and cleaning up my mess of a classroom.  It will get done.  Last week Michael and I celebrated our fourteenth wedding anniversary.  He surprised me with a bicycle built for two, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Our friend Dave, took pictures, and we all had a good laugh as Michael and I tried to maneuver an old tandem.  It was perfect.  Just like the day we got married.  That sunny May morning, fourteen years ago, was a day I will never forget.  We were only kids, but I knew our marriage would be strong.  If only I could have predicted how much strength we were to need.  But our love has deepened, to a place that can't be expressed in words.  All I know, is despite all the pain and sorrow, we are continuing to seek joy as a couple.  We created our angel Luka with our love, and I know in time we will create another beautiful child, who will get to witness our love for a longer time.  As we laughed and played amongst the tall pine trees on our bicycle built for two,  I'm sure Luka danced in the wind and the trees, giggling right along with us.

pink blossoms

It's been a beautiful weekend, and my heart is full.  My life has been blessed in the past few weeks, with love, friendship, and a true sense of joy that I haven't felt in a long time.  I am truly starting to feel happy again.  Our new place has been the biggest gift to Michael and I.  The space, the newness, the beauty of it, and being able to add as much colour as we can in our living environment.  Being close to the river, running the trails, cooking dinners in our open kitchen, and having the best baths in my big tub, has invigorated my spirit.  And on this lovely, warm, Mother's day evening,  I have just planted some colourful plants, to honour Luka, and celebrate my being a mother.   Sadly, my little tree we planted last year for Mother's day, did not survive the winter.  But today, as we visited the plant nursery, with our wonderful friends Dave and Leanne, and their little one, my eyes caught a beautiful pink blossomed hydrangea, and I knew it was the one we would be planting this year.  We are so blessed to have found such true and present friends, who have welcomed us into their lives.  Holding their beautiful baby is a gift, and makes me believe anything is possible.  And so, as Michael cooks dinner, I thank the universe for all it continues to bring me, the beauty of the earth, and the warmth of friendship.  And thank you Luka for visiting in the gentle morning breeze.  Happy Mother's Day, little one.  I love you.