My last post was over a year ago. I thought I was done here. And now, I’m not sure where to begin.

It might be easiest to start with a recap of the last seven months of 2011.

June: My mom had exploratory surgery (which she barely survived); we found out she has a rare type of cancer in an advanced stage. George and I decided to try for a third child, and I got pregnant right away.
July: My mom almost died of sepsis. I had another (third) early miscarriage but decided against seeing a specialist for further testing. Oliver turned five.
August: My mom finally came home and hospice care was initiated. Oliver started Kindergarten.
September: We took a family road trip to Philadelphia, where George had a (fantastic) job offer; he turned down the job because we didn’t want to move that far from my parents. Soon after, he interviewed for a job in Pittsburgh.
October: I organized a special birthday party for my mom. I got pregnant again. George had follow-up interviews for the Pittsburgh job.
November: Andrew turned two. George got the Pittsburgh job. We were relieved to see the baby’s heart beating at my 7-week ultrasound.
December: I made it to my second trimester and, in preparation for selling the house and moving, I resigned from my part time job as a nurse. George started commuting daily to Pittsburgh (2 hours each way).

Now it’s the end of January. My mom’s condition is worsening day by day. My 20-week ultrasound is scheduled for February 8, and our house will officially be on the market beginning February 9.

It’s a lot to handle at once, physically and emotionally. I often feel uprooted, scared, lost. At the same time, there is an underlying sense that this period of my life is also incredibly meaningful. The truth is that it’s not all bad; there have been beautiful moments, too. Oliver and Andrew seeing the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. My mother smiling and surrounded by family on the day of her birthday party. A tiny heartbeat flickering on the ultrasound screen. Silver linings and laughter and thankfulness and love. So much love.

I guess that’s why I’m here. I want to keep a better record of 2012. Something that will carry over, after everything has changed.

For now, we’re still in the Before. I don’t want to close my eyes, I don’t want to look ahead, I just want to look around. I want to remember how the good parts stand out.

My current goal is to blog through our future second child’s first birthday, which would be sometime in 2010, and then publish my last post on my 32nd birthday that year (since this blog begins on my 27th birthday, which would make exactly 5 years). I think that will be enough for me. We’ll see…

I wrote that a year and a half ago. Last Saturday, I turned 32.

This blog now contains the 5 best years of my life, from finding out I was pregnant with my first child on my 27th birthday through what will be my second child’s 1st birthday on November 3. It’s been quite a journey! And I honestly believe these years–and my life–were even more special because of all the incredible Internet Friends I’ve met along the way.

But the timing really fell into place naturally. I no longer catch myself writing blog posts in my head as funny or crazy things are happening. I no longer have the time to write on my own blog most days, let alone read all the blogs I want to read. This might be “enough” for me, at least for now.

I’m afraid that if I’m not blogging, friendships will fade. I hope not. But maybe that’s only natural, after all. And I’ll definitely miss THAT part.

So where does that leave my blog? I’m not sure. I’m leaving the door open for now–there are some potential things on the horizon that I might want to share (a Certain Big Decision is now leaning towards MAYBE POSSIBLY YES…!), but many of us are connected elsewhere (Facebook, Flickr, etc) and I hope we can still follow each other there. I’m grateful for all of you and I’ll still be laughing with you, crying with you, and cheering you on through all of YOUR adventures.

In most ways I still feel like I’m 27, but I’m 32 now. I have 2 sweet little boys and a wonderful husband, and I hope the next 5 years are just as beautiful as 2005-2010, whether I’m blogging about them or not.

My wish is the same for all of you!

xo

October 2009, 38w3d pregnant (9 days before Andrew was born):

October 2010, the four of us at the same park:

Every October is beautiful in its own way, and each one has been better than the last. Who knows what next October will bring?

Happy birthday, George.

I remember birthdays. I can’t remember significant historical dates to save my life, but if I’ve ever found out your birthday, chances are that I’ll never forget it. I also like to make a Big Deal out of birthdays. Not by spending a lot of money on presents or planning big parties or doing anything fancy; just by doing little things to make people feel special.

I think Oliver, who takes after me in every other way, has this in his genes too.

My mother’s birthday is October 12, which just so happened to be Grandparents Day at Oliver’s preschool. He was so excited about GRANDMA AND GRANDPA COMING TO HIS SCHOOL!!!!1!! that he could barely eat breakfast that morning. My parents had a total blast watching the class talk about the sun and moon, work with different learning tools (Oliver picked the thousands abacus that day), and sing songs during music class (apparently my Former Painfully Shy Kid really belts it out!). One of the teachers took pictures of each child with their grandparents, and all the kids and grandparents decorated picture frames together to later use for the pictures. (MY DAD USED A GLUE STICK. I don’t think my dad ever used a glue stick before! heh) When I picked him up later that day, Oliver said, “Mommy, I want ALL the days to be Grandparents Day!” So all in all, it was awesome, and my mom said it was a Perfect Birthday. I am grateful that my parents are healthy and able to do things like this, and it means the world to me, seeing how much my son loves being with them and vice versa.

But to top it off, there was today.

George and I were attending a memorial service for the wife of a friend (a former college professor), and my mom was watching Oliver and Andrew at her house when my sister and her husband stopped over. My mom wanted to cut the birthday cake I had baked for her and send a couple pieces home with my sister before she left, but Oliver stopped her: “Wait, Grandma, before you take a bite…!” Then he stunned everyone by CLIMBING UP ON A CHAIR and SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HER. All by himself.

Yeah. She cried.

He helped me make the cake on Friday, and when he asked to have a piece afterward, I told him we had to save it for Saturday and sing Happy Birthday to Grandma first. But I would have never expected him to THINK of singing to her on his own, let alone actually SING by himself, and I am incredibly proud of him. HE’S MY SON, this thoughtful four year old boy. And he gave my mom The Absolute Best Birthday Gift Ever.

He’s already talking about singing Happy Birthday to Andrew in a couple weeks. I don’t know if my heart can take it.

Coaching football is my father’s life, which means football was OUR life as a family. For me, it started before I was born: I was considerate enough to wait until the Monday AFTER the last game of his 1978 season–a week past my due date (sorry, Mom!). As a kid, I didn’t see my dad very much between July and November; he never got to see me play tennis in high school or walk me out on the field with my mom on senior band night, and although he was disappointed to miss those things, I made sure he knew it was ok and I was extremely proud of him. My own kids even ended up with birthdays like bookends to football season: July 18, two weeks before two-a-days start, and November 3, shortly after the season ends.

However, the season might not end quite as soon this year.

Andrew’s first birthday is less than two weeks away, but his party is now officially on hold because my dad’s football team is 7-0 so far, and there is a high likelihood that he will make the regional playoffs (YAY!). And the first round of playoff games for his division (Division I, which are the biggest schools by student population) is scheduled for Saturday, November 6–the day we were planning to have the party. Whether he wins or not (and obviously we hope he’ll keep winning!) this means he will not be home on Saturday OR Sunday, and I know my dad does not want to miss his grandson’s first birthday party, so we’re postponing it until… well, I don’t know when, but knock on wood!

The cake can wait. I know someday Andrew will understand.

The four of us will still have our own little celebration on November 3, though. And I’ll say, “I’m SO glad I had you,” and my singing voice will break at the beginning of the Happy Birthday song and I’ll cry into his hair, just like it’s happened every year for his four-year old brother. If there’s anything I love more than football, it’s my little boys. They’re the best luck this family has ever had.

GO FALCONS!