Mama of Letters

Screen

Wed, 27 Aug 2008 09:09:45 -0400

My father bought this screen overseas when he was in the military. Probably around the time of the Vietnam War, but I can never remember from what country. I want to say India. I’ll have to ask him yet again.
It’s beautiful with inlay of gold on one side and mother of pearl on the other. We don’t have curtains in our bedroom, so we use this instead. Someday I’ll get curtains, but I’m content with this for now.

Wordless Wednesday
To view more of my photos, visit my camera happy page or my flickr photostream.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 08:35:38 -0400

continued from yesterday...

At exactly 2:15a.m. I awoke in a tremendous amount of pain, and I discovered that my water had broke. I woke up George who hopped out of bed and spun into action. Being the man he is, he had to take a shower and eat something. This was okay, though, because I had to call my doctor. I didn’t know which hospital I needed to go to. I called and left a message, and it must have taken her about thirty minutes to call back because she was delivering a baby. She told me that I could go to my hospital - the one I was registered at - because she was felt she’d be able to finish where she was and make it over there in time.
In the car on the way to the hospital, I felt the head of the baby nudging me inside, but I didn’t say that. I thought if I said that, I would panic. I only told George to hurry.
Of course, at the hospital, George had to decide whether to park or valet park. I almost screamed at him, but I didn’t. I couldn’t verbalize anything. I was in so much pain and discomfort. He went to park the car, and a guy wheeled me into the hospital. There was a new employee at the desk. She took forever. Thank God another woman stood over her when she said, “I’ll call someone to come get her.” (I knew how far the emergency waiting room was from the maternity ward, and I thought, I can’t wait!) Before I could muster any words out of my mouth, that other woman gave me a serious look and said, “I’ll take her.”
George was already at the maternity ward when that woman huffed and puffed, pushing me passed him and into a delivery room. It was 4:30a.m.
Before I even got out of the wheelchair, I asked, “Can I have the epidural?”
“I need to check you first,” the nurse said.
Oh God. Will I survive this? I thought.
The nurse told me later that when I came into the room, by the way I was acting, she thought I was 8 centimeters dilated. But after she checked, she reeled back, snapped off her gloves and said, “You’re ready.” I was 10.
People flew into the room and equipment was dragged across the floor. In twenty seconds, everybody was in position, except for my doctor. She was at the other hospital. And I felt like I needed to push. They told me not to. Are they insane? After a quick call to my doctor, they had a midwife come in, and then I could push. My doctor would show up an hour later, and she took charge in the best way. The midwife had said nothing to me.
But wait a minute...
Almost as soon as I was in position, I asked the nurse on my right, “Can I have my epidural?”
I’ll never forget her face. Freckled, serene. Red hair that turned to and fro as she shook her head. No. “It wouldn’t do you any good now, honey.”
Hmmmphf. That was the single most horrible moment of it all.
I looked at George. His hand was over his mouth in horror. Originally, he did not want to be in the delivery room. He didn’t think he could take it. But when we saw a video of a woman on an epidural, he thought, Oh, that’s not so bad. You’ll be fine. So then I’ll be fine.
Once I accepted it, it wasn’t as bad, and George was wonderful. Didn’t I always want a natural birth anyway? Then again, it was bad. Unbelievable pain. Excruciating pain.
But at 6:34a.m., I delivered Aidan Miles Pabis and all the world changed forever.

A Mother’s Story

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 07:53:23 -0400

Please indulge me as I tell this story; a story mothers love to tell.

Two years ago today, I had a scheduled appointment at my OBGYN. She told me I was three centimeters dilated. It was a Thursday, and she felt sure my son would be born that weekend. But just in case, she made me an appointment at the hospital for the following week. If he wasn’t born by then, they would induce me. I surely didn’t want this, but having that appointment gave me a false sense that I had time.
We went to Walmart for some last minute supplies. I remember saying a prayer - please don’t let my baby be born in Walmart. We went to lunch at my favorite restaurant - an indie vegetarian place, kind of famous around here. My contractions started right after we left the doctor’s office, but they were blips of muscle flexes as I sat at an outdoor table with my husband, giddy and excited.
We went home, and I packed. I did whatever last minute things I needed to do. In the evening, I began to time my contractions. They still didn’t hurt or bother me much. They were maybe 6-7 minutes apart. I can’t remember. At 8pm we went for a walk around the neighborhood like we always do. We were gone for about an hour because we talked to some neighbors, and as you can imagine, I was walking slow.
We cheerfully told any neighbor who was outside - these people had seen me walking every night of my pregnancy - that the baby was coming at any time.
I called my Mom. She heard me have a contraction and told me that I should go to the hospital right away, but when I returned from the walk, the contractions were less regular. In the class at the hospital, they drilled it into our heads - Do not come to the hospital until your contractions have been five minutes apart for a full hour. We live a half hour drive from the hospital, so we surely didn’t want to be sent home.
At 11pm, I called my doctor. She was at the other hospital in town, delivering babies. She listened to me explain my contractions and how I felt. She said she thought there was plenty of time, but it was up to me. I could come in and get checked, or I could stay home and rest. If I wanted to come in, she said, would I be willing to come to the hospital she was at instead of the one I was scheduled to go to? Sure, I said. She thought she was going to be there for quite a while.
It was 11pm, and I was tired, so I stayed home. I went to bed, and I slept for three hours.

to be continued tomorrow...

So, if you’re a mother, what were you doing the day before your baby was born?

Beginning to read young adult fiction

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 17:15:43 -0400

I have been meaning to post my comments on Walk Two Moons by Sharon Creech to my book journal for a few weeks, and I’m mentioning it here on my blog because it’s part of my journey in writing young adult fiction.

Click here to read about my first experience
with this genre (as an adult).

Julie Penrose Fountain

Thu, 21 Aug 2008 07:38:35 -0400

I just realized that I let Wordless Wednesday pass without posting anything... A testament to how distracted I’ve been lately. So here is (not quite) Wordless Thursday for you:
When I was in Colorado Springs, we went by this beautiful park, and it had this incredible fountain. A waste of water? Perhaps. But it’s quite remarkable, isn’t it? And the children were having so much fun playing around it.
The fountain also turned slowly. I was pretty much standing in the same place while I shot it.

To view more of my photos, visit my camera happy page or my flickr photostream.

Colorado

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 07:06:02 -0400

Aidan and I returned safely from Colorado on Thursday, and I survived two airplane rides with a near-two-year-old. The way back was a bit more challenging since Aidan felt much more comfortable with the whole flying thing. He babbled more (loudly) and liked standing up in his seat, but it could have been a lot worse. I’ve got one heck of a good boy.
I lived in the Denver area for four years when I was a child, but I don’t remember spending any time in Colorado Springs, which is where my brother, sister-in-law, and new nephew are living right now. What a gorgeous place. They’re living in a house in the mountains with the most incredible view, and one night after a storm we had a treat of a double rainbow arching over the valley in which they live. You can see it pictured above. I took that shot off their back deck.
Aidan loved every minute. We took him to an amusement park, the zoo, and the Garden of the Gods where we did a mini-hike (can’t go far with a two-year-old and a baby). He loved his new cousin, and he was very good at turning his toys off and on at the right time and also offering the baby his pacifier whether he needed it or not.
Above you can see my brother pushing Aidan on the swings, one of Aidan’s favorite pastimes. I commented to my brother that I couldn’t believe the light in Colorado Springs. It seemed so much brighter, and the sky seemed so much bluer, and he said it was. We were 6,035 feet above sea level.
For the record I have to mention that my new nephew is the cutest baby you’ve ever seen (besides Aidan), and he must be the best baby in the world. Only cries when he’s hungry, and he’s happy to sit and watch everyone else.
Well, I could go on and on, but I’ll spare you the details. I hope everyone had a good week. I’m trying to get back into my routine (very hard to do). I’ll be posting more photos of my trip on my Flickr photostream very soon.

Bye-Bye, Sophie

Wed, 6 Aug 2008 06:53:53 -0400

Poor Sophie. This is what she does when we’re outside playing.
I’m going to be leaving tomorrow for one week. I’m taking Aidan to visit my brother, sister-in-law and my brand new nephew! I’ll also visit my sister and her family. Her kids are in college. It was just yesterday I was flying out to see them as babies.
I’m nervous about taking Aidan on the airplane, but in true brother fashion, I received this e-mail from him the other day:

Don't worry about your flight out here...just expect Aidan to scream the whole way, and the other passengers, while not looking at you, will be wondering if you are abusing him...the flight attendants will ask you often if there is anything they can do...and the fat guy next to you will be giving you dirty looks. There will not be a single mom on the flight that would have understood. Your bags will not make it here, not a chance. They will show at my house the day after you leave. Your flight will be bumpy, and you will be dying to go to the bathroom. They will not let you out of your seat, especially with a crying 2 year old. We will not even begin to discuss the flight home or where ever you end up...Anything better, is a gift from God.

Well, now that my worst nightmare has been recorded in writing, I can rest in peace.
I will not be posting anything while I’m gone. Ya’ll have a wonderful week.

(not quite) Wordless Wednesday
To view more of my photos, visit my camera happy page or my flickr photostream.

Airport Stories: The Writers I Met, Part 2

Mon, 4 Aug 2008 15:44:49 -0400

To read the Introduction to the Airport Stories, click here.

The other writer I met at the airport was James Kilgo, though, actually, I had already met him. He was a friend of a friend of my dad’s. The first writer’s conference I ever attended was at Valdosta State University, and he was a presenter. This was right after I had applied for the creative writing program at the university, and I was still waiting for my acceptance rejection letter. (Of course, at the time, I had no idea how hard it was to get into any program, nor did I know that you should apply for more than one. But that’s another blog post.) While at the conference, I bought his book and asked him to sign it. I told him the name of the friend, and he lit up. He had met my dad once too. I also told him that I applied to the university.
He told me that when he got home, he’d look up my application to the program, and he told me to call him. His number was in the book. How nice is that? Of course, by the time I got home, my rejection letter was at my doorstep. I still called him. He told me that though none of the other professors voted me in, he did. He mentioned an essay I wrote that especially impressed him, and I can’t remember what else he said, but I remember being so thankful for the feedback. Disappointed too, of course. (I should add that it’s a good thing I was not accepted into the program. My writing sample was very poor, and quite frankly, I was not ready for graduate school. Sometimes we do have to trust that things work out for the best.)
I don’t know how much time passed between that phone conversation and when he appeared at the airport with his fellow-passenger, Coleman Barks, but he recognized me right away, and after he checked in and took his bags to the waiting room, he returned! He walked up to me and asked me if I was still writing. I told him about the articles I had written for our town’s magazine. He told me that I could send him some of my work, and he’d read it. I think I went into the back office and jumped up and down for awhile after that.
Not only did he read it, he offered to take me to lunch. I met him at the same place I attended the Harriette Austin Writer’s Conference a couple weeks ago. We had lunch in the restaurant there. Though he didn’t help me with my writing at that point, I will never forget his generosity. (It’s nice to think how far my writing has come since then, though the big question is, has it come far enough?) I made a pact with myself that if I ever become a published writer, I will do my best to encourage young writers and treat them well. I will never forget him.
Unfortunately, he died of cancer a few years ago. I attended a wonderful tribute to him by his fellow-writers, and I saw his family there. Coleman Barks handed out cassette tapes of a conversation that he, Kilgo, and another writer had together. It was a meeting of their writer’s group, and in it, Kilgo read early excerpts from one of his books. It’s wonderful.
Though I have met only a few writers face-to-face, James Kilgo has got to be the kindest of them all. How I would have loved to be one of his students! If he took the time to talk to me - me! - think what he must have done for them! Maybe you are thinking it was that mutual friend that made him treat me to lunch, but I’m not so sure. I am told that so many people attended his memorial service, the large sanctuary could not accommodate all of them. People were standing up in the aisles. That says it all.
If you have not read his work, I highly recommend it. He wrote beautiful essays, and his fiction novel, Daughter of My People, is one of my favorites.

Airport Stories: The Writers I Met

Sun, 3 Aug 2008 07:51:06 -0400

To read the Introduction to the Airport Stories, click here.

I never met a movie star at the airport, but I did meet a couple of writers, and for me, they might as well have been movie stars. While I was working there, the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Philip Levine, came to the university to give a reading and a talk. I went to this event, and I loved his poetry. I bought one of his books, and I had him sign it.
The next day, I was standing at the counter waiting for passengers when I saw him squinting in the sunlight and walking toward the double doors. Two young men escorted him and carried his overnight bag. I guessed they were students in the creative writing program at the university.
As he walked inside, he headed straight toward me, and I smiled. “I know who you are,” I said.
“You do?” His eyes lit up. I noticed the students glance at each other.
“I saw you read last night.” Did I say I enjoyed it? I probably did, though I can’t remember. I hope I did.
“Then you don’t need to see my I.D.?” he asked.
“No,” I said with another flashy smile.
That was the extent of our conversation, but I shall never forget it.

A week or two later my roommate brought home our town’s alternative weekly. She told me a mutual friend gave it to her and pointed out a small article about Philip Levine’s visit.
“Read the last part,” she said.
I skipped down. I can’t remember exactly what I read, but it was something like how Levine impressed everyone in town, even the girl who checked him in at the airport. The last lines were:

“Then you don’t need to see my I.D.?” he asked.
She didn’t.

This cracked me up. I still have a copy of that article somewhere. Buried deep in a box.

to be continued...

Georgia Aquarium

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 15:30:37 -0400

Monday we went to the Georgia Aquarium. Can’t recommend it enough. I’ll post more of the aquarium photos on Flickr in a few days.

Wordless Wednesday
To view more of my photos, visit my camera happy page or my flickr photostream.