And yet, there is nothing quite like a difficult year to show you how blessed you are. How many wonderful people are in your life, and part of what makes them so wonderful is the quiet nature of their kindness. It's just a reminder that we're surrounded by wonderful people. From every aspect of our lives.
My baby sister was diagnosed with Dramatic Miley Cyrus, otherwise known as dermatomysitis- hence the nickname-last year. It took a heavy toll on her, and her family. So the rest of us jumped in to help her little family. Some, not surprised to find themselves twelve weeks pregnant, were in better moods while assisting. But leaving your family to help another usually comes with burdens others have to carry. So while I was helping my sister, a fellow soccer mom drove Baby the six hours to Spokane for a game, put her up in a hotel and fed her, so the father figure could maintain the weekend schedule for the other kids. The few friends I mentioned my pregnancy to, in text form "The father figure knocked a woman up, and to make it worse, it's me" were supportive and sympathetic and understood and respected the myriad of feelings I was working through.
During a particularly dark period of my pregnancy, I opened up to a evidence based, faithful science group on Facebook, comprised of women across the globe. The result....my first online shower. The father figure's face as he stumbled over nearly thirty boxes from Amazon was one of panic, until I reassured him I hadn't been engaging in retail therapy. I have a diaper fund on Amazon, waiting for the panicked late night "we're out of diapers" terror. Of course, I haven't had to use it yet, due to the boxes of diapers they sent me. Clothing, blankets, gift cards came pouring in from people I only knew online. In a group I hadn't participated in all that much, as my life was too busy. Ladies saw someone in need a happily jumped in to help. It didn't matter they didn't know me in "real life." The moment my life got very real, they were there, with real help.
And then D'Garebear arrived. Once people realized that indeed I had partially gestated a child, the help came from everywhere. Friends helped finish the kitchen remodel that had sent me over the edge into lethal blood pressure levels. Friends started meal trains and fed my family for weeks. People I babysat decades ago, gave me baby gear and clothing. Neighbors came and did yard work.I grew up in a lovely little neighborhood. The type of neighborhood that leaves happy memories of adventures with neighborhood kids and failure to remember how small the houses were. But the growing and maturing families required most of us to move away. We were able to keep in touch with a couple of families, social media helped us connect with another. And those families who were invited to our birthday parties and we trick-or-treated with, they all brought food. Multiple times. They brought clothes and diapers and baby carriers. They brought gourmet meals. Meals my children wolfed down.
We're a soccer family. And when I say family, I really do mean it. When I announced D'Garebear's birth on social media, my phone blew up with messages from various soccer teammates. Most of whom had me listed as "Baby's Mom" in their contact lists. This included former teammates as well. They drove meals to our house, met us at various games and practises with food, visited us in the NICU, sent baby gifts and joyfully welcomed D'Garebear to the pitch. There's a reason why current and former teammate families comprise such a significant portion of my Christmas card list.
People from church, who I barely know, brought meals and gifts. Someone who only knew me from this blog brought dinner, and her own story of struggling with preeclampsia. A priest friend flew up to visit, just to make sure I was really OK and being honest about how serious the situation was. Others sent notes, one writing the kids encouraging them to care for their new brother and me. Clever folks sent grubhub gift cards, to make meals easy for Baba as she held down the fort while the father figure worked and kept the magnificent health insurance which provided excellent care to D'Garebear and peace of mind for me. Family members kept up the encouraging comments on pictures shared, boosting my spirits and helping me to focus on the positive throughout the long haul.
The Pater Familias, my father, found himself in an interesting position this summer. The Mater Familias was several states away, caring for Grandma the Great. So he was on the parental duty and the Gruber-grandpa uber-position. He made nearly daily visits to the NICU to see his namesake and kept the family updated with multiple pictures. Modern technology made facetiming the Mater Familias and Grandma the Great possible. Baba showed that she is quite the young lady, griping to me that no one cleans the house except her when I'm not home, but she assumed the burden of responsibility for both her siblings and the upkeep of the house. And she did it all while winning a summer soccer tournament, remaining on the varsity soccer team and keeping her 4.0. D'Garebear has no shortage of role models in his home.
I come from a long line of remarkable and strong women. Women who broke barriers. I am proud to follow in their footsteps. I like to think of myself as competent and capable. I have a crazy life but I like to think I can juggle it all. But I can't. And I shouldn't. It's not that anyone else is responsible for my life or the lives I have welcomed in it. It's just that I shouldn't be afraid to let my facade down, to let people help when the need is there. There's the saying "It takes a village to raise a child." I see the truth in that, every child needs a loving and supportive home. And that home can only be built with a community that supports the family throughout the difficult times. I admit I felt sheepish accepting meals and help from others. It felt like admitting I was weak or I had failed. But I realize now, it takes a certain strength, or at least honesty, to admit you can't do it all. And there might just be times in your life where you shouldn't do it. But only the kindness and compassion of others will allow you to let your guard down. To be surrounded by people who care enough to help you when in your moments of weakness, without needing you to ask, well that's an incredible gift. And a gift no words can properly describe nor justly thank.The father figure's Italian grandma used to say "beer makes milk" but she would also say "every baby brings a loaf of bread." And as with most things she said, she wasn't wrong. D'Garebear's birth literally brought loaves of bread to our door, but it also brought the greater gift, the recognition of how rich our lives are. How wonderful the world he was born into is.
Thankful isn't strong enough a word.
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