Planes, Trains, and Angel Wings

A week ago Saturday, the all-seeing meteorologists of the the Boston metro area made what I will call an "oopsie".  They missed a snow storm that dumped 7 inches of snow on our doorstep in the middle of the afternoon.  Normally, I pay zero attention to the weather report (as my mother-in-law can attest), but since Ellie and I were flying to Oklahoma that day, I knew the forecast was calm and clear.  Maybe snow during the overnight.  Normally, this unexpected event would have really stressed me out, but I have learned to mentally prepare myself for disappointment (seems logical when you review the last two years of my life), and so off to the airport we traveled.

Our itinerary required a stop at Dulles International Airport in Washington, D.C. with a two hour layover.  Plenty of time for Ellie and I to deplane, grab dinner, and mosey to our gate.  Unfortunately, our flight out of Logan International Airport was delayed a half hour because the plane was late arriving for Phoenix.  No problem, thought the mentally prepared Sommer.  This is an adventure!  My attitude started to show its weakness as we sat on the tarmac for two hours at Logan.  Ellie gobbled through her bag of snacks in record time, coloring books were utilized, Barbies were played, and even the Ipad was eventually rejected.  Why the delay? Well, those meteorologists forgot to mention the snow storm, so the airport didn't schedule extra de-icing crews, so flights were running a bit behind.  Oh, and then during de-icing the crew accidentally got the fluid into the electrical panel and the plane shut down...for twenty minutes.  By the time our flight was airborne, I had mentally prepared myself we were going to miss our connection in D.C. and it would be okay.  We would catch the next flight out.  Surely, there are oodles of flights leaving from D.C. on a Saturday evening for Oklahoma City, right?

An hour and a half later, Ellie was snoozing on my lap and our seatmate and I were strategizing whether we could make our next flight.  We had ten minutes to deplane, sprint the entirety of Terminal C, take a train to Terminal A, ride 4 escalators, two moving walkways (or treadmills if you are Ellie), and sprint to the far end of Terminal A.  All while lugging a purse, backpack, blue stroller bag towing a penguin, and a three and a half year old whose legs were "tired".  At some point during the flight from Boston, I started getting the notion we could do it.  This of course is dangerous territory because when you put in the effort and don't make it, the disappointment is far greater.  As I dashed through Dulles with a preschooler hanging under my arm like a football, I wondered if I should just stop.  My emotions would be easier to handle if I just didn't put in the effort, and I felt pretty sure whether I ran or walked to our gate, we were not going to catch our connecting flight.  But I ran.  I really wish I was part of a reality show because I would love to see the vision I made running the race of my life with all my living and non-living baggage in tow.  Footwear of choice? Some very cute boots.

As we made our final stampede down Terminal A to gate A1B, a woman in a white puffy coat with a fur collar hurried past us.  "A1B?" she shouted over her shoulder as she went by. "I will hold the plane for you," my fellow racer called as she disappeared out of sight.  We made the flight.  It had taxied away from the gate, but the plane was still sitting on the tarmac and they let us board via stairs.  As I walked my sweaty, disheveled, out of breath self down the narrow isle, Ellie scampered ahead of me exclaiming in delight, "We made it! We made it, Mommy!  We ran like we have never run before! That was fun!"  She cheered up the disgruntled passengers who thought we were slowing them down. My heart-rate had barely returned to baseline as we touched down in Oklahoma two hours later. I like to think Owen had a part in getting us on that plane.

All the effort earned us a wonderful visit with our dear friends, the Potters.  Jenny and Bj added their third son, Van Owen, in December and I was eager to meet my little guy's namesake.  Here he is:

Van Owen Potter

Our trip was just as I hoped it would be: fun and relaxing.  We had four children under the age of four and everyone got along great.  It was busy, loud, fun, and full of activities.  We ate out, we visited grandparents, Ellie played at a park in 60+ degree weather, Jenny and I had massages and girl talk, we celebrated George's second birthday, and I snuggled a delicious baby.

Van was a bit of a test for me.  I was curious how it would be to spend time with a newborn after the past two years with Owen.  Pete and I both still feel this underlying layer of exhaustion and we question whether we have the stamina to care for another baby.  This may sound a bit dramatic, but life with Owen was tiring and hard.  It was two years of endless care with no gains or milestones.  Emotionally traumatic, physically demanding, and now we are deep in a pool of grief.  I thought it was quite possible I would have very little tolerance of Van's newborn cries.  The good news is, this is not the case.  Van is not Owen and I was able to mentally separate the two.  I could look at Van with fresh eyes and not wonder what terrible diseases may be lurking inside waiting to be discovered.  His cries did not make me weary, but rather fulfilled me. I could calm him without needing to dispense medication.  Van is a newborn.  There is nothing else to add to his story.

Our flight home was also dramatic.  Yet another snowstorm hit the East Coast on the day before our departure.  Mid-air from Oklahoma City to Dulles, our connecting flight to Boston was cancelled.  A lovely surprise.  Ellie and I spent six hours in the airport before leaving D.C. at 11pm and arriving back in Boston just after midnight the next day.  It could have been worse, traveling with a three year old isn't terrible and we managed to keep ourselves entertained.  Here's to hoping our trip to Disney World at the end of February is less airport heavy!

Ellie

Today marks three months since Owen passed away.  It feels like an eternity has passed in those three short months.  Last night I went out to dinner with a dear friend who lost her husband to cancer two weeks prior to Owen.  It is a new life- living without my sweet boy.  Going out to dinner on a Wednesday night would have been unimaginable if Owen was still with us.  My time was spent with him, worrying about him, or at work.  There was no such thing as going out for a casual glass of wine mid-week.  Owen kept our days filled with all of the love and support he needed; now the free time abounds.  This is not meant as a complaint- I feel such a sense of relief going about my day with Ellie.  We have no strict schedule, there is nothing we need to rush to accomplish, no appointments with therapists, medicine schedules, unpredictable seizures, or endless irritability.  We just do what we want when we want.  I miss my guy, but there is relief to be found in this new way of life.

Ellie continues to amaze us with her acceptance of Owen in Heaven.  She talks about him every day, speaks of his existence in Heaven in a matter of fact manner, and comforts me when she can see I am sad.  Our family therapist stopped by last week to check in on how Ellie and I are doing.  Ellie questioned whether she had any children in Heaven.  Upon hearing she did not, Ellie let the therapist know she has a brother in Heaven and it is okay if one of her children goes to Heaven.   They will be happy there.  It hurts my heart this is such piece of reality for my 3 year old child.  But I love the sense of pride Ellie has about her brother who is an angel.

On Monday, she had a tough time going to sleep and kept Pete and I in her room until past 10pm.  This is notably late for a kid who typically conks out at 8pm.  As we lay in bed talking, she interrogated each of us about Owen.  Why did he get a disease? Why did he go to Heaven? Was he born with his disease? Why didn't she get the disease? Does he play in Heaven? Why didn't he say good-bye to her? We did our best to answer her questions and help her mind find some peace, but I know she still struggles with why this happened to her brother.  On Tuesday, she came home from preschool with her usual pile of drawings, but our family photo was composed a bit different.  Owen is now up in Heaven.  The beauty and innocence of this picture took my breath away.  I wish I could see into her mind and know what she is thinking.

L to R: Ellie, Pete, two snowmen, Sommer.  Owen is next to the sun in Heaven

Today Pete and I have an appointment at a fertility clinic.  We are still in our information gathering stage.  If we were to chose this path to add a child, we want to know exactly what we would have to undertake.  We know it would involve IVF, but I really do not have a clear understanding of the process.  We also have an appointment scheduled with my OB to review the details of my pregnancy with Owen.  Pete and I think there were some markers in my pregnancy which indicated all was not well.  This, of course, comes with the hindsight of knowing Owen was very sick.  Nothing in the pregnancy could have foretold his story, but we wonder if there is usable information for a future pregnancy.  We are also still waiting for our home study to be scheduled for foster adoption.  Lots of balls up in the air, but we are not actively pursuing anything.  It is easy to share that my feelings about adding another child to our house can change daily.  Some days seem to be just right with the three of us, other times there is a large hole in our lives that we are waiting to fill. No matter what the future brings, we are so thankful to have Ellie.