The project I am working on right now is based on Keith Ferrazzi's book, Never Eat Alone, and it talks about how relationships are the key to success in life. One of the cornerstones of this philosophy is Be Generous and Give--and Don't Keep Score. Without getting into the boring details (unless you are an ID geek) of the course, let me just say that I have been really focusing lately on how other peoples' generosity toward me has put me where I am--which is usually a pretty good place.
Today, I'd just like to give a few shout-outs of thanks.
To Wade, without your 'in' at the CPD (and you sharing that with me) I may not have gotten that job, which means I may never have been Training Manager anywhere yet. Also, because of your generosity of bringing me into that first project, I am living my dream of working AND being a SAHM. Thank You!
To my parents and in-laws--thank you for taking care of Ainslie as often as you do so I can Have It All, without worrying.
To Holly--Thank you for being so generous to Ainslie and I that first week at ballet--and ever since! Thank you for sharing such a fun group of moms and kiddos with us. You don't know how much that has helped us feel at home!
To Tracy--Thank you for being The One Who Knows Everything About Moving to Chatham. Without your generous sharing of information I would know much less about preschools, swimming lessons, the library, furniture stores, and Knight's!
To Jena and Heather--Thanks for, well, Everything! Mostly for listening. I know best friends are supposed to be generous with support, but you guys are superstars. Oh, and Jena, thanks for making me read Harry Potter. What would I be without Harry in my life?
To Suzi, Candy and Heather--thanks for being generous with friendship and sarcasm. :-)
To PALP and everyone there--Thank You for saving my sanity (for real) over the past 6 years. I'm not sure Ainslie would be here if it weren't for the support and friendship you've shared.
I'm probably missing people. My point is that I really feel so blessed and humbled, and also inspired to be generous myself, with friendship, information, job leads, and even things as simple as smiles.
Showing posts with label PAL. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PAL. Show all posts
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Six Years
As of today, April 12, I have been a member of an exclusive club (that I wouldn't wish on anyone) of mothers who have lost babies. April 12, 2001, I had my first miscarriage.
Now, after six years, Of course I remember how heartbroken I was and I will never, ever forget the horror of the next 2.5 years, trying so desperately to get pregnant again...but this post isn't a pity party. Really.
What I was wondering this morning is this: Am I really a different kind of mother because of what we went through to have Ainslie?
I've definitely been impacted forever by those years, but really, do I parent differently?
Yes and No.
I think I am more paranoid about safety. I think I tear up more easily when she says and does certain things. I think I see everyday miracles shining through her on a more frequent basis.
On the other hand...
I think I would still have her in all kinds of activities--that is just the way I am. I think I would still be a fiend about early reading skills. I think I would still hold the same basic philosophies about potty training, spanking, foods, etc.
But.
There is that certain, thing, that je ne sais quoi, that PAL sistas know. It's a fierceness with which I love her that is different. I believe that most mothers love their children more fiercely than anyone else ever will, but this is different. In a way, she is my prize, my wonder, my hard-won little bundle of stars that I had to fight tooth and nail for, and that creates its own category of motherly love.
I still think about the what-if. What if I had a five-year old now? Would I still have my monkey? There is no answer to that question, of course. I do know this--if I didn't have this young person in my life; this thinking, reasoning, climbing, jumping person who comes up with things that astound me, frustrate me, crack me up and make me cry with joy, I would not be who I am--not even close.
Then, of course, there are the wonderful friends I have made through the journey of grief, hope, frustration and joy who again, have helped mold me in so many facets of my life. Thank you, ladies.
So, six years later, I miss that first child, but I am profoundly grateful.
Now, after six years, Of course I remember how heartbroken I was and I will never, ever forget the horror of the next 2.5 years, trying so desperately to get pregnant again...but this post isn't a pity party. Really.
What I was wondering this morning is this: Am I really a different kind of mother because of what we went through to have Ainslie?
I've definitely been impacted forever by those years, but really, do I parent differently?
Yes and No.
I think I am more paranoid about safety. I think I tear up more easily when she says and does certain things. I think I see everyday miracles shining through her on a more frequent basis.
On the other hand...
I think I would still have her in all kinds of activities--that is just the way I am. I think I would still be a fiend about early reading skills. I think I would still hold the same basic philosophies about potty training, spanking, foods, etc.
But.
There is that certain, thing, that je ne sais quoi, that PAL sistas know. It's a fierceness with which I love her that is different. I believe that most mothers love their children more fiercely than anyone else ever will, but this is different. In a way, she is my prize, my wonder, my hard-won little bundle of stars that I had to fight tooth and nail for, and that creates its own category of motherly love.
I still think about the what-if. What if I had a five-year old now? Would I still have my monkey? There is no answer to that question, of course. I do know this--if I didn't have this young person in my life; this thinking, reasoning, climbing, jumping person who comes up with things that astound me, frustrate me, crack me up and make me cry with joy, I would not be who I am--not even close.
Then, of course, there are the wonderful friends I have made through the journey of grief, hope, frustration and joy who again, have helped mold me in so many facets of my life. Thank you, ladies.
So, six years later, I miss that first child, but I am profoundly grateful.
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