The past, I think, has helped me appreciate the present – and I don’t want to spoil any of it by fretting about the future. – Audrey Hepburn

I cannot be a hypocrite.  I cannot say I am always perfect at being present.  I can say I try very hard to remember to be here, right now. I can feel my fingers as they click on the keys.  My nails, slightly too long to be completely comfortable, absorb the impact with each click.  Max the toddler cat sits next to me and I can hear the low rumble of his purr as his own nails click over and over into the blanket that lays across my lap. Baby M lies peacefully in her bouncy seat just across the threshold of the doorway to the dining room so she won’t be disturbed by “We’re the Millers” on-demand movie I am watching.  I try to stay present, as to not let my mind get too far ahead of me as I type this post. How I will get across what I want to say without over simplifying things? I can only speak from my own experience, but being that I am incredibly grateful and aware of just what that means in the deepest parts of me, I can at least try to relay that, so that, some part of what I say might come resonate with some one who is having a hard time finding gratitude in what can be a challenging time of year.

I started blogging 2 and 1/2 years ago because I was losing my grip on on how to be thankful. I was becoming overwhelmed by sadness, fear, uncertainty, guilt, but still hanging on with unparalleled love.  ‘Mynewfavoriteday’ started exactly there, that day, that moment was my ground zero. I had to light my path with gratitude, the ability to find something each day, to make it ‘anewfavoriteday.’

Finding gratitude is like crossing the street.  You have to be incredibly aware of what’s happening around you.  What’s happening down the street. Are there any cars coming, how fast are they driving?  What do you know about that particular crossing environment?  Do people speed through? Do they pretend to stop? How many lanes? Would you make it across one lane of a 4 lane road and risk the secondary lane not seeing you and speeding through.  Before you even step foot in that cross walk, you must stop, look and listen.  You are entirely present: your life depends on it.  Gratitude is no different.  Your life, enjoying it and knowing why, is equally as precious.

Being present is like crossing the street

Now, for me, blogging is like crossing the street. I see things differently.  I am able to calibrate what is happening, how it is happening, what I am feeling in the moment for the partial reason that I might want to write about it one day and need to be able to re-architect the moment for anyone reading my post. The other reason is that it is now more habitual to just be aware. Before this, I had no experience, I just started doing and it just started happening, but I had to decide.

This is not an expertise that is developed over time. It can start right now.  The first thing to do is ‘stop.’  Stop whatever you are doing.  Feel what that feels like.  What does your body feel like. Are your lungs expanding in and out? Can you feel your heart beat?  Your eyelashes as you blink?  The air as your inhale?  This, and this alone, is reason to be grateful. You are here, alive.  If you are totally healthy, be grateful, you do not know the difference.  If you have been sick in the past, you know the reasons to be grateful, now remember them.

The next step is to ‘look’ around you. Many of us do this from a different vantage point. What do they have that I don’t?  Are they the proverbial Joneses?  But there is a very different way to look at this.  Last week in the mini’s weekly music class there was a mother there with her 3 year old son.  She smiled as she watched her little boy dance around, interact with the teachers, and play the instruments. Her big eyes filled with love as they contrasted with her olive skin and her headscarf concealing what was clearly baldness brought on from the ravages of chemotherapy.  As I focused on my own minis and enabling specifically E’s enjoyment, monitoring M’s first exposure, and encouraging Q’s interactions, I could not shake her from my heart.  What she must think. What she must feel. What she must fear. What she must hope. What she must value. What she must love.  She sees things in each and every moment.  Moments she treasures. Moments she hopes he will remember.  Moments; the true definition of being present.

By nature steps are linear, but like crossing the street, in gratitude, we can do some of these at the same time.  Taking in your environment, you look around, you listen, and you feel.  If you are in tune, then you process and internalize what’s happening with you and to you.  When you listen, something different happens.  I believe  that sound can be directly connected to emotion. Listening to music can change a mood or trigger memories.  Listening to words can transport us.  Listening to laughter can bring us joy. Listening to cries can bring us sympathy.  Listening makes you present.  If someone is telling you a story, are you really listening or are you crafting your response?  Can you truly hear what someone is saying, what might be behind the words?  Can you hear the birds? The cars on the street? The sound of a baby breathing?  If you really listen, you can be grateful for all of these sounds.  For the world around you.

This week is Thanksgiving.  4 years ago, I sat at our Thanksgiving table and cried as my Q and E were in the hospital and we had taken a few short yet very long hours to have dinner with family.  I cried out of trauma for what we had been through, the fear of what was happening and that they might not make it, the hope for the future, and the boundless presence of love I  now knew but could not imagine losing in any form.  I cannot let go of that, I will not let go of that.  It grounds me. It lets me know that this Thanksgiving, is amazing.  The past helps me appreciate, feel, love the present. I will try not to fret about the future, but I will and then I will use being thankful as a way to bring me back to the present. This Thanksgiving, the present is exceptional.  This Thanksgiving I am grateful for family, friends, life, love, fortified, perseverance, support, and everything that falls from those pillars.  The hardest days are still supported by these pillars which I can only find through being present and grateful and it’s these pillars, presence and moments that make each day ‘anewfavoriteday.’ Happy Thanksgiving and cheers to being Thankful.

“When the most important things in our life happen we quite often do not know , at the moment, what is going on.” C.S. Lewis

Four years ago this morning truer words could not have been spoken. I had really no idea what was going on other than my babies had just arrived and it was all surreal.  This morning, I remember it like it is that morning, 7:10 am and Q arrived, 2 lbs 15 oz, not breathing, not crying, just silence.  Then E, all  2 lbs 8 oz of her, at 7:12 am, only whispers.  Flashes of blue scrubs from the corner of my weary eyes, and a quick picture with each next to my tear streaked and exhaust

E and Q reunite for the first time at 5 weeks old…

ed face and they were gone.  It was the one of the two best days of my life and it was by far away the most important day of my life and yet I had no idea at the time.

Today, is Q and Es’ 4th Birthday.  Yes, the appropriately named Wondertwins are 4. I keep saying it because I can hardly believe it myself.

Since that day 4 years ago, time has flown yet the moments with both Q and E stand still like pictures and movies in mind.  Their smiles and giggles tickle my ears and warm my heart.  I can feel their joy and pain.  Their fear and their fortitude.  I take moments to snuggle them and appreciate them every single day (even the rough ones:)).  I remember what they have shown me about strength, compassion, perseverance, empathy, joy, and love.   I know that they have made me a much better person in the journey of my own life.

Their arrival was the most important day in my life because it changed me forever.  It has challenged me beyond anything I could have imagined while giving me the greatest fulfillment in the smallest of moments.  Moments that would have likely been lost on me had everything not been the way that is has been.  Moments, I would have not known to appreciate.  Moments to wonder at all of our many blessings and moments to realize just how precious every moment our time is together.

I often think this blog is my love letter to my children.  The one that they will one day read and realize how much I am truly grateful for them. The love letter that even if they cannot read, when Q or M reads it to E, she will feel the love that radiates from the words that I write.  As we embark upon a new year of their life, we will watch as they grow and change and meet new milestones big and small, but we will grow and change with them. Their birthday marks a new year for a new appreciation for what’s to come and a reminder to continue to be grateful for all of those moments that we are so very very very fortunate to have.

Happy Birthday Q and E. You are my precious Angels and thank you for giving me this journey. While I may not have totally understood just how many ways today was important 4 years ago, I certainly do today.  Today is ‘mynewfavoriteday.’ I hope you will join me in wishing my little miracles happy birthday and take a moment to feel the joy and gratitude that fills my entire being and let it be a lens through which to view your own gifts.

Forever and ever…

“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I am living, my babies you’ll be.”

Happy Happy Birthday.

Love always,

Mama

Quote from the book, “I’ll Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch and Sheila McGraw

“Sometimes the dreams that come true are the dreams you never even knew you had.”
― Alice Sebold

5 weeks.

It’s been 5 weeks since I sat, enormously pregnant, on my oversized brown leather chair in our family room and typed my last post on Sunday night July 20th.

It was 5 weeks ago that night that I first truly acknowledged and said I was excited about the future. 5 weeks since I had made it to place where I was no longer fearful about what life would be like when baby M arrived and no longer fearful that putting my words out there would bring my worst fears of not making it to term.

5 weeks ago today, in a scheduled 3:36 am post,  I put my happiness and excitement out into the universe in writing and in my own words.

And, it was 5 weeks ago today at 3:30 am I had my first contraction, went into labor and Baby M arrived into the world, into our family, and into my heart and soul.

5 weeks ago today, my heart healed. As a reader, Heather, so aptly put it, Baby M was the tonic that seeped into the cracks of my heart I thought were beyond repair. Cracks that I thought were scars and would never heal, but now they are lighter. They are quiet. They are no longer so raw.

The past 10 months  have changed my life in a way I never knew I dreamed.  Laughter and tears, and laughter about my tears have been a constant.  I have struggled with my own emotions in a way that was completely foreign to me.  Joy, fear, guilt, anxiety, frustration, happiness….over and over again, wave after wave and in no particular order these feelings would rush through my body as if being carried like a drug through my bloodstream. I could feel them all over my pregnant body.

And then in a moment that will forever be marked on my memory, it all went a way and  I only felt peace. As I reached out my arms at exactly 7 pm on 7/22 and pulled my new baby girl onto my chest,  a true  peace settled over me. A peace I knew would now last.  A peace that would be my new baseline. Another moment to grab onto and forever seal with all the other moments of Q and E that have become the dreams I never knew I had.

A new beginning….

Baby M…our precious Princess.

There are so many posts to follow this one, the funny things that happened, the other happiness and challenges that have come with our new life, but today is about my unknown dream, baby M.  Today is about our own little Princess, who, while the world watched Prince George come into the world on July 22 and I am sure was bringing his own sense of healing, our precious Baby M was joining us to heal this mama’s heart.  Setting a new course for each day to truly be ‘mynewfavoriteday.’

I am so proud and happy to introduce you all to precious Baby M.  and hope that some of my joy, my faith in everything happens for a reason, and my peace finds its way to you to make today ‘yournewfavoriteday.’

❤ Shannon

“It is not our toughness that keeps us warm at night, but our tenderness which makes others want to keep us warm.” ~ Harold Lyon

I have never really been good at asking directly for help.  In many ways it always felt like I was somehow in turn admitting I was weak.  Even now, I struggle.  I am sure part of this stems from my need to be good at things. To feel like I have things under control. To feel like I could control the outcomes if I did x, y, or z. By nature,  I am positive. An optimist. I am a doer. I solve problems.  I don’t focus on what’s wrong as much as how to fix it.

Professionally, I have always been good at this problem-solving and having it together, personally, I have lived by the same rules. If I was having a hard time, I never wanted to stop to feel sorry for myself, believing that focusing on the solution was a much better use of my time.  Asking for help in my own book, and only as it applied to me, meant I was becoming a victim of my circumstances.  Until I realized that not being vulnerable and asking for help was in some ways its own form of weakness…to not admit that I can’t do it all with a smile and positive attitude.

The circumstances around having Q and E submerged me into this world of lack of control. E’s delays and the persistent unknowns reinforced that sometimes no matter what you do, there is no easy solution. A crystal clear path or outcome.  My solution was to own what I could do. How I, and we, could all rise up to meet the challenges.  Just when I thought things were “under some form of control” I found out I was pregnant.

This part of the journey more than the mile markers before it have taught me new levels of vulnerability.  Acknowledging my own limits, as well as other people putting limits on me.  Fear of  the past repeating itself driving me to ask for help. To admit I can’t do everything forcing me out of my comfort zone of my perceptions of control.

I am now 31 weeks pregnant and live each day with a combination of gratitude and relief.  My Dr.’s voice rings through my head daily to “behave.” To take it easy, to not overdue it. To get help  By his orders I asked for some much-needed help to keep E and Q’s rigorous schedule while protecting baby M still growing in my belly.   In many ways it felt like I was laying all my cards on the table in a high-stakes game of poker and in others it felt like I was shedding a giant boulder that I had been lugging around.

In my vulnerable state, gratefully my dad and Mother-in-Law were both able and willing to alternate weeks to come help me keep the frenzy of our lives going for the next month.  As my body grows more and more tired and uncoordinated, my mind is forced to admit even more that I am not able to do what I could do before and that I cannot compromise on any level the potential safety of Baby M and ultimately our family unit as we know it.  I now have to say no to things. To say I can’t.  To say I am not able.  To say I am too tired. All things that are not part of my make-up; yet, in some ways have given me new strength.  Permission to be ok to take care of myself.

I hope to remember this as a lesson going forward once Baby M arrives. To remember that vulnerability brings new warmth and strength of a different kind.  That vulnerability beyond my written word  shielded by a computer screen and through practice in my own life is a new milestone on this journey.  Opening new doors and new pathways of possibility for being going forward.  New ways to make each day ‘anewfavoriteday.’  I wish you all tenderness and vulnerability that will give you a new way  to see each day as ‘anewfavoriteday.’

“A new baby is the beginning of all things-wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities.” ~ Eda J. Le Shan

Yes, you are reading this right.  The Pruitt clan is expanding.  It’s been quiet around this blog, mostly as this quote isn’t entirely representative of where my mental state started when I found out I was expecting.  At 19 weeks, I am finally here, but to say this little one was unexpected, a surprise, not in the plan, would be an understatement.  As we all know, after trying to conceive for almost 2 years, I had to go through IVF to be granted the blessing of Q and E. Aside from all the obvious, “there are things you can do,” I am now 38, I couldn’t get pregnant the first time around, and I wasn’t expecting to be able to get pregnant now….But, guess what, I am now that story.

Now, I am sure some folks are thinking, how can she say this, gasp!  But, our experience of delivering and having minis hasn’t been exactly typical.  Additionally, we have had a baby in our sweet angel E for the past 3.5 years.  At a 10 month developmental age, I was terrified we would let her down. Somehow, not be able to continue to give her what she needs and will continue to need to progress.  To give her the very best opportunity possible to find her best quality of life.  On the flip side, I feared for little Q, who is thriving as he continues to learn and bring light and love into our lives: would we be able to continue to give him the unique place in our family as our bug?  How could we, and I, truly practically integrate an infant into our lives, between therapy, work, advocacy, school, and still give this new little miracle the kind of love and attention that it will deserve.

As so often it is, the view in the rearview mirror is much clearer, and as fate will often have it, we learn and grow from each experience, with each experience becoming the foundation for another.

At 13 weeks, as we waited for the results of my CVS with a full panel of genetic testing (a test done to identify any conditions or issues with the fetus), my anxiety levels crept to new heights with each passing day.  I was holding off on my attachment. I could feel it.  I had been down this road before. Expecting the call the first time around from E’s testing, contrary to what I believed they would say, rocked my world to its core.  I had thought when E had done her genetic testing it would come back negative. We would chalk her delays up to Cerebral Palsy (brain damage), not a lifelong, rare genetic condition, Angelman Syndrome.  As the fear grew that history may repeat itself, so did my realization that I was attached.  That I had turned a corner. That, while my fears of how we would do this and make this work hadn’t totally dissipated, I knew in my heart of hearts that like everything, we would figure out a way for this little one to become seamlessly part of our family.

When the phone rang at 3:30 in the afternoon exactly 14 days later, every fiber of my being froze in anticipation. My breathing shallowed and my heart clenched.  The genetic counselor with lightness in her voice said happily, “she is fine.”  A baby girl.  A she. A perfectly healthy, chromosomally normal baby miracle girl.  I could feel the shift like a tectonic plate in my heart.  It would be ok to now allow the sliver of light or hope to shine in.  To embrace the miracle that she could be for our entire family and for me personally to experience a hopefully more typical experience of having a baby.

And so I am.

Each day, I put my hands on my growing belly and welcome our new sweet girl. I tell her about her sister who will inspire her and us to do great things, and how much E will look up to her. I tell her how much she will learn from her brother who is whip smart and the gentle spirit of an angel and as if reinforcing my sentiments, Q will put his hand on my belly and tell me, “there is a baby sister” in your belly.

This post is also part of the journey.  To not be afraid to say it outloud.  To not be fearful that if I do, something bad will happen.  To let this part of the experience be happy and joyful. A friend early on said to me, as she tried to help me cope with the shock and fear I was feeling, “you have no idea how much love this baby will bring into your family.”  She is right, but with each passing day, little pieces of the wall begin to crumble and I begin to feel the enormity of the love that is awaiting us all.

So it begins,  a new chapter of “mynewfavoriteday.” As each day evolves and life changes, there will be good and tough days, but each day will hold in it the pure love, hope and wonder of possibilities that comes with not just a baby but with being able to see each moment, day and event as an opportunity of possibility.  Perhaps as we go through the hopefully next 4 months together before little baby girl arrives we can all remind one another of just one moment of each day where we can see this moment clearly and all be reminded each day has the hope of being ‘anewfavoriteday.’