seriously

Dear Guys on Dating Sites,

Please do not lie about your height. It's just silly. I will notice, and I will be annoyed. Also, please do not use photos that are really outdated. I will notice that, too. You are not 21 anymore! That's why we're here, right? Get over it. Oh, and if you are going to ask me to drive 30 miles out of my way to meet you, you had better be extremely good looking, or extremely charming, or both. If you ask me to drive 50 miles, to meet you in your own town, I will not even answer. Because you're a jerk. It's a first date for crying out loud. I don't even know if I'll like you yet, and gas costs $4.39 a gallon.

Thank you for your time,

Vera

confession

I want to scoop up your words and put them in my pockets,
run them between my fingers in idle moments
sprinkle them around me, my magic circle
my trail of crumbs back home. I come
greedily, silently and often
a thief in the night
and I take take take, and your words
shine a light or
blow things to bits or
make space inside of me that was not there before. It is
foolishness, really
to leave such treasures lying about, where anyone can see.

But I love your foolishness; the generosity
the kindness, the courage of it.



Catherine! Jess! Kate! This one's for you. Because I think you are magnificent, and because your writing makes my life better. I pretty much fail at commenting, but I really do love you.

xoxo

I can't believe it's been four years.
Mama loves you, baby girl. ♥

she'll know

A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had.

But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.


Barbara Kingsolver

Lissie Doll, you should be nearly 3 1/2 years old... but instead you are nearly -4.
I really hate math. And I really miss you.

Mother's Day Roses

Some of us will receive flowers today, in honor of our motherhood; but I know that not all of us will. So I gathered some roses for you, my lovely readers. You may go to the album, right click on your photo, and save it to your computer. Feel free to use it however you like, digitally or in print. My one request is that if you post the photo anywhere online, you would kindly include a link back to my blog.

Wishing everyone a peaceful day. xoxo -- vera

the end of my magical thinking

Oh, my dear, my darling girl. I realized last night that somewhere deep in the back of my mind, I've always kind of thought you might come back to me somehow; or I might wake up one day to find you'd never really left. But now suddenly I really understand that it's not true, that it will never be true -- and I can't think that anymore, even if I wanted to -- and it feels like I've lost you all over again.

theology of the downtrodden

[excerpt from a letter I recently wrote]

I am in a stubborn mood, and so I won't commit to whether or not God is "real" -- especially not in the way most people understand God to be. But for the sake of argument and of comfort and of logic, I will say, if God is any kind of real: I don't (and never will) believe God knew my parents would fuck it up this badly... God only knew that they could.

I didn't have to suffer. I didn't HAVE to be hurt. But I was. None of it had to happen. But it did. And that is all on them, on my parents. I was entrusted to their care. They could have made better choices. They didn't. I could have been rescued any number of times, by any number of people. But I wasn't. And here we are.

(I also didn't have to be raped. There is no moral to that story, and I can't tell you how many people I've wanted to punch for implying that there might be. The only thing I might concede to is that my babies had to die... but not for any cosmic reason, and not to teach me anything, and not because God "needed" them in Heaven (what the fuck does that even mean?!) but for the simple fact that my poor body could not support their lives and my own at the same time. This is the saddest fact of my life and I don't know if I can ever truly forgive the people whose fault it is. I do know it's certainly not my own.)

So. I just wanted to offer this to you, despite my ambivilance: never believe for one second that God would want this for me, would choose this for me. That is too ugly to be borne, and it will shatter you. Know that every human makes a choice every minute of their life, and the choices are entirely their own. That is what is so desperate and holy and beautiful and terrifying about humanity, what we wish we could deny. That WE did this. All of us. With our creative power, we did THIS. But we can turn it around, too. That is what power is for. For making things happen. Like it or not, we can't deny our power, or the responsibility that comes with it; we can only decide if we are going to use it to make good things happen, or bad.

ugh

Can one of you please come over and hang out? I am so tired of communicating mainly with a computer screen. Someone with a face, email me and I will give you directions to my house.

I am 90% serious.

Sorry I'm neglecting you, little blog. I still love you, I swear... You just can't talk back to me; and I so need someone to talk back to me right now.

I can't seem to explain anything properly this week.

jetset

Well, I'm off to Australia for the holidays...
I hope that moments and hours and days of joy will find you this season, wherever you are.

another brother

Dear Benjamin,
How are you, small brother? I've never thought of you so much in my life as I have these last few days, and I'm not sure why.

I was very young -- probably too young -- when I learned about you. I hardly understood what "abortion" even meant, except from the context of the conversation. I remember our mom talked about it like a memory of a dream. A baby who was never born. A baby boy, another brother. He would be younger than Kyle, but older than [Gretchen]. Baby Ben.

Of course, she made it her thing, presented it as her thing, like she always does. As if it was nothing to do with me. As if her choices and her struggles had no effect on my life whatsoever. As if it were her trauma alone, and her tears to cry, and there was no reason for me to be getting so upset about it. And maybe that's why I shut it down, put my feelings about you away; because she acted as if I were stealing something that wasn't mine. But you are mine, too, aren't you? You are. You're my family.

I could say all kinds of angry, bitter things here about our parents, and I could speculate about what it might have been like, if you'd had a chance to be born; what might have been better, what would have undoubtably been worse. But really all I wanted to say was: Hi, baby brother. I'm your older sister, and I remember you. Maybe you've met my children, your neice and nephew? Maybe the three of you are great friends by now.

You would be about 22 years old, I think, if you were here. But you're not here; and it's sad to say, but I can't help thinking maybe you are the luckiest sibling after all.

Peace be with you, my dear. Happy Christmas.
Love from you sister -- Vera

indelible

+

If my girlie had made it to her due date, she would be turning 3 years old today.

I miss you, sweetheart. I miss you so much.
XO -- mama

baby-daddy

It's not that I miss him tonight, exactly... But I miss having a lover, a partner, a champion; a friend. And I wonder when I will ever have that again, and with whom.

It seems the cruelest kind of irony that the very event that severed our connection permanently is the same one that ensured we would be bound to one another forever.

----------

You would have loved your daddy, No-No. I am sure of that much, at least. And I think he would have loved you more than he ever even knew he could. Certainly more than he loved me; but I'm okay with that. Perhaps he does love you, still; perhaps he remembers you, thinks about you, even now. I wish I knew.

I wish I didn't feel so alone in missing you.

a quick note

There are only a few days left to enter my giveaway, if you haven't already. (Remember, there are three ways to do so!)

Cheers -- V

PS: If you like books, check out my new blog...

bad idea

Note to Self: Do not eat sugar right before bed.
It makes you dream of the crocodile. STOP DOING THAT.

inexpressible

I wanted to put a quote here. A poem, a song. Something. I've been searching and searching. But nothing is working. And I find I am trying to describe something that I'm not sure can even be described in someone else's words, or maybe in any words at all:



I am trying to tell you what you mean to me


What it means that you were here


What it means that I'm your mother -- your mother


Not someone else's


Not anyone else's but yours


----------


What I picture in my mind, as I'm thinking about this, is the ocean, the wild breakers of the South Pacific ocean, at night. And I see so many stars overhead, unfamiliar, and very bright, the moon a shining silver splinter, and the waves foaming right at my feet, washing beguilingly over my toes, and then sliding away again. The air is warm, and the water is cold, and I stand there for a long time, with my head back and my arms outstretched, as if I could embrace the whole world, or gather the essence of you back together between the palms of my two reaching hands, gather you back from where you have disappeared into the heart of the universe. I can feel the whole of the earth missing you with me. Wondering with me, where have you gone, where are you now? Every rock and tree and flower, all the sand beneath my feet, all the whales, and the lions, and the mice, and the bees. We notice, we remember, we pause.

We look up.

And this string of moments is like a string of perfect pearls, or like a string of notes in a perfect melody, our solemn, silent song of acknowledgement, and memory... for you are a part of this story, this poem, this Place. You are part of us, and it -- and me. And we remember you.


----------


So this is it, baby. This is it.


If I had a picture of what I'm trying to say, this would be it.

a gift for you

Hello lovelies. In honor of my own kids, I decided to make some presents for you and yours. (Actually, it's pretty much an Ailis idea. Noah wouldn't really be interested.) I spent some time over the last couple of days to make them and take the photos, and I hope you like the result. Go to the album, and find your photo. Click to view; right-click to "save picture as" on your computer. Cheers!

If you are a BLM, and read my blog but are not one of my followers, please let me know and I will make one for you also if you like!
--vera kate

for my children, present and future

Oh, my loves! There are so many things I want you to know. I want you to know how glad I am that you are mine; want you to know it as well as you know your own name. I want you to know that even when you make my life harder, when you argue or misbehave, when you do something completely maddening, I wouldn't trade you -- or our time together -- for anything. I promise that I will do my best for you as a parent, always. And when I suspect I am missing something crucial, I will call for reinforcements. I promise to find the people who can make up for what I lack. (No one can do everything. We all need help, sometimes.) I am committed to cultivating the unique awesomeness of who you already are as a person, so that when the time comes for you to be set loose in the wide world, I can be so very proud of what we have accomplished together.

I am pretty sure you are the greatest thing since sliced bread. You are all that and a bag of chips. You are any other complimentary food-related cliches that I can't think of right now, and non-food-related ones too. You are a champion. You are brilliant. You are the best of the best. I will never, not ever, change my mind about that.

All my love forever -- mama

nice people

This is to thank all of you who have been reading and supporting me, who have left comments, sent cards, made gifts. Thank you to LFCA for mentioning me a couple of weeks ago and for everyone who came from there to show me some love. I was surprised and humbled. Thank you to Nicole for your wonderful idea and for organizing, starting up, and maintaining the BLM penpal group. It has been a huge blessing to me already. Thank you to Megan, Tina, Angela, and Jen for taking the time to write. Also Alissa, Melissa, and Sara. So sweet!

Thank you for remembering me and my baby during this hard time. I am certainly not accustomed to it, and I appreciate you all so much. You just have no idea.

Love, Vera Kate

the party planning committee

I have big plans for your day, No-No! I don't know yet exactly how I am going to feel, but I do know what I want to do, regardless. I finally bought your baby book, which I have been thinking about for awhile now, and I am ready to fill it out and make it super cute. Someday I will show it to the family that I am still trying to build, and I hope they will be able to see with their eyes how sweet and unique and important you were and are; I hope they will understand that you are a part of me, and therefore a part of them, too.

I've gotten several thoughtful cards and comments lately, to let me know that we are remembered. There are nice people out there, baby. There are some really nice people. I bet you already knew that, though, long before I ever did.

All my love, Mama

sympathy

I am in a foul mood today, so tired I feel like I might throw up.

However. Nearly a year after my second loss, I have receieved my very first sympathy card. Not from anyone I've ever met, but from a fellow babyloss-mama in our new penpal group.

Thank you, Megan. Thank you so much. I have never gotten a card to acknowledge my losses before. I really hope you are having a better day than I am so far, and that you get many notes and cards and kind wishes in return. --vera