Figured it out yet?
Sebastien ... Se - bas - tien ... our little "see bus ten" - the name we are sure Harry would choose for his little brother.
Love
Cynthia
Monday, November 30, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Hint on Origin of Sebastien's Name
Here is a hint to help figure out the origin of Sebastien's name.
One of Harry's most favourite things in the world was to wave at and visit the Number 10 bus - the city bus which passes our house roughly every 20 minutes to half an hour each day. It started when Harry and I would sit at the front window and watch for Daddy to come off the bus in the evening. Eventually, he could just sense the bus coming and before we could even see it he would be pointing to the front window to go and look. Sure enough, we'd go and there would be the bus turning onto our street off Evanson Street, two blocks east of us. He would bounce in my arms and wave at the bus. The bus loop where the bus turns around is also just two blocks away, in Aubrey Park - so when we were at the park, and a bus pulled into the bus turn around loop Harry would point to the bus and want to go and check it out. The bus drivers were always nice enough to let us come onto the bus and look around. Harry just loved that.
All of Harry's last summer we spent many afternoons sitting on our bench on our front porch and Harry would bounce and wave each time the bus came buy. It got so the drivers knew to look to our house and wave at the little boy sitting on his front stoop on the corner, or riding on the sidewalk on his trike (with his Mum dragging his IV pole / feeding pump and managing not to catch his feeding tube on anything). One of the ways we passed the long days in the hospital when Harry was going through chemotherapy was to sit and look out his window and wave at every bus that passed by. Even in his last few weeks, when he got sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker and was mostly just sleeping in my arms, I'd sit outside on the bench with Harry for hours and he would sleep, but when he heard the bus, even his last days, he would wake up and sit up and wave to the bus.
So, knowing how much he loved the bus, and specifically the number 10 bus, can you now guess at the meaning / relationship to Sebastien's name (and why we are spelling it sebastien not sebastian).
Love,
Cynthia
One of Harry's most favourite things in the world was to wave at and visit the Number 10 bus - the city bus which passes our house roughly every 20 minutes to half an hour each day. It started when Harry and I would sit at the front window and watch for Daddy to come off the bus in the evening. Eventually, he could just sense the bus coming and before we could even see it he would be pointing to the front window to go and look. Sure enough, we'd go and there would be the bus turning onto our street off Evanson Street, two blocks east of us. He would bounce in my arms and wave at the bus. The bus loop where the bus turns around is also just two blocks away, in Aubrey Park - so when we were at the park, and a bus pulled into the bus turn around loop Harry would point to the bus and want to go and check it out. The bus drivers were always nice enough to let us come onto the bus and look around. Harry just loved that.
All of Harry's last summer we spent many afternoons sitting on our bench on our front porch and Harry would bounce and wave each time the bus came buy. It got so the drivers knew to look to our house and wave at the little boy sitting on his front stoop on the corner, or riding on the sidewalk on his trike (with his Mum dragging his IV pole / feeding pump and managing not to catch his feeding tube on anything). One of the ways we passed the long days in the hospital when Harry was going through chemotherapy was to sit and look out his window and wave at every bus that passed by. Even in his last few weeks, when he got sicker and sicker and weaker and weaker and was mostly just sleeping in my arms, I'd sit outside on the bench with Harry for hours and he would sleep, but when he heard the bus, even his last days, he would wake up and sit up and wave to the bus.
So, knowing how much he loved the bus, and specifically the number 10 bus, can you now guess at the meaning / relationship to Sebastien's name (and why we are spelling it sebastien not sebastian).
Love,
Cynthia
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Baby Sebastien Photos
Here is a link to a web album of some of our early ultrasound photos of Baby Sebastien. The first four were taken at 15 weeks and the last 2 at 20 weeks. I still have to scan some more of the 20 week pictures - but the hand and foot are two of the cutest. His profile at 15 weeks looks a lot like both Lydia and Harry's in the womb.
See if you can guess why we have chosen the name "Sebastien" for him - well *we* didn't choose it exactly - the hint is that this is the name we are sure Harry would choose for his little brother. Break it down and think about what Harry loved to do and it is obvious and cool!!!
Love,
Cynthia
See if you can guess why we have chosen the name "Sebastien" for him - well *we* didn't choose it exactly - the hint is that this is the name we are sure Harry would choose for his little brother. Break it down and think about what Harry loved to do and it is obvious and cool!!!
Love,
Cynthia
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| Baby Sebastien Photos |
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Photos of our home renovation
The below link should go to a Picasa web album showing picture of our home renovation.
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| Home Renovation |
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
20-Week Ultrasound
I had my 20-week ultrasound yesterday.
Our wee boy is very active and looks very healthy! The technician was so kind and said he looks very good, no reasons for concern and no reason to come back again for another ultrasound, unless my midwife decides otherwise. But she was so kind, knowing our history with Harry, she gave me her card and told me to give her a call and just come in and see her if I am feeling worried at all about the baby, and she'll take another look.
My triple-screen blood test came back negative! So that was very good news and means that no further testing is required. His spine looks great so no fears of spina bifida, and his risk for downs sydrome is way down. So good news on all fronts.
He was very cooperative for the tech - always shifting into exactly the position she wanted him in to be able to take a particular measurement or capture a particular view - something Mummy likes to hear ... very cooperative!!! We got lots of great shots of his hands - as he kept on waving at us, as if to say, "Hello Mummy, Hello Papa, see you in March!". Just like Harry and Lydia she said he has a lovely shaped head!
I am hoping to set up my printer / scanner tomorrow and if I can figure it all out, I'll try to scan and post some of our pictures from the ultrasound. To me, his little profile looks just like Lydia and Harry's did in-utero - so I am sure he is going to be yet another blond-haired, blue-eyed carbon-copy of his Dad - just like Harry and Lydia - ah well, that will at least mean he will be a cutie!
Having this baby feels like a radical act of hope. We could have given into fear and not have had another child, but living in hope is part of our promise to Harry. We are also lucky - given that Harry's cancer was sporadic and not genetic, we don't have to worry about another child developing this cancer - which parents of a child with an inherited or de novo mutation do - so that makes it easier for us. It *is* scary to move into the future in hope, nonetheless. Having once received devastating medical news, we know that it can happen. That makes every medical procedure we have to do with a child, Lydia or this baby, that much more stressful.
When Lydia had to go to the doctor's last December for her 5-year old check up, I made Henry come with me. It was the first time I was going back to the doctor's office since we had taken Harry that fateful day, February 22, 2008. Lydia was scared, so I had to massively fight back *my* fear to put on a brave face for her. But *inside* I was fighing back nausea like you wouldn't believe. Thank goodness the nurse, by chance, did not put us in the same patient room that we had been in with Harry when Dr. Van Rooyen had found his tumour. When Lydia had to lie down on the table and he did his routine check of her arms, legs, and core, including abdomen - Henry and I held onto each other's hand for dear life. I think the doctor could tell how scared we were, he kept talking the whole time. "Oh, yes, this feels fine, um, yes good, everything feels normal and healthy". I honestly nearly passed out with fear when he was feeling around her liver - even though I prod her often now and know she is fine - it was just so terrifying to have her checked out that first time. Henry said after the visit was all done, "No wonder you wanted me there, that was incredibly difficult, I had no idea just how stressful it would be!"
I have already warned Dr. Van Rooyen that I will be bringing this baby in every month for a well-baby check up for his first year at least, not on the usual 2-4-6 & 12 month schedule. Fortunately, he completely understands! Part of me will always wonder, "what if we had brought Harry in for a 9-month check up? Would we have found the cancer sooner? Would it have made a difference?" I try to be positive - "No, it wouldn't have made a difference. He just would have been a sick baby sooner". But sometimes despite my best efforts, that nagging voice pushes her way in, "Maybe if you hadn't been so focused on finishing your PhD in the fall of 2007 you would have noticed your son was starting to get sick." I really dislike that nagging voice and *really* try not to listen to her!
It also feels like a radical act of hope to talk about this baby's future with Lydia - which we do now daily. I will not let my life be shrouded in fear - but it is a conscious effort to stay positive and focused on the good each day. I try not to get too far ahead of myself and just focus on how wonderful today is - not to put off thoroughly enjoying the now and not to focus on too much on that which is unknown and unknowable. One of Harry's gifts was learning how to radically focus on the good and the gifts of the NOW - I will not squander these hard learned lessons!
On that note, have a wonderful day. If you are in western Canada - where we're experiencing an above normal temperature week - bask in the glory of the gift of the sunshine and warmth today! I know I will!
Peace and blessings,
Cynthia
Our wee boy is very active and looks very healthy! The technician was so kind and said he looks very good, no reasons for concern and no reason to come back again for another ultrasound, unless my midwife decides otherwise. But she was so kind, knowing our history with Harry, she gave me her card and told me to give her a call and just come in and see her if I am feeling worried at all about the baby, and she'll take another look.
My triple-screen blood test came back negative! So that was very good news and means that no further testing is required. His spine looks great so no fears of spina bifida, and his risk for downs sydrome is way down. So good news on all fronts.
He was very cooperative for the tech - always shifting into exactly the position she wanted him in to be able to take a particular measurement or capture a particular view - something Mummy likes to hear ... very cooperative!!! We got lots of great shots of his hands - as he kept on waving at us, as if to say, "Hello Mummy, Hello Papa, see you in March!". Just like Harry and Lydia she said he has a lovely shaped head!
I am hoping to set up my printer / scanner tomorrow and if I can figure it all out, I'll try to scan and post some of our pictures from the ultrasound. To me, his little profile looks just like Lydia and Harry's did in-utero - so I am sure he is going to be yet another blond-haired, blue-eyed carbon-copy of his Dad - just like Harry and Lydia - ah well, that will at least mean he will be a cutie!
Having this baby feels like a radical act of hope. We could have given into fear and not have had another child, but living in hope is part of our promise to Harry. We are also lucky - given that Harry's cancer was sporadic and not genetic, we don't have to worry about another child developing this cancer - which parents of a child with an inherited or de novo mutation do - so that makes it easier for us. It *is* scary to move into the future in hope, nonetheless. Having once received devastating medical news, we know that it can happen. That makes every medical procedure we have to do with a child, Lydia or this baby, that much more stressful.
When Lydia had to go to the doctor's last December for her 5-year old check up, I made Henry come with me. It was the first time I was going back to the doctor's office since we had taken Harry that fateful day, February 22, 2008. Lydia was scared, so I had to massively fight back *my* fear to put on a brave face for her. But *inside* I was fighing back nausea like you wouldn't believe. Thank goodness the nurse, by chance, did not put us in the same patient room that we had been in with Harry when Dr. Van Rooyen had found his tumour. When Lydia had to lie down on the table and he did his routine check of her arms, legs, and core, including abdomen - Henry and I held onto each other's hand for dear life. I think the doctor could tell how scared we were, he kept talking the whole time. "Oh, yes, this feels fine, um, yes good, everything feels normal and healthy". I honestly nearly passed out with fear when he was feeling around her liver - even though I prod her often now and know she is fine - it was just so terrifying to have her checked out that first time. Henry said after the visit was all done, "No wonder you wanted me there, that was incredibly difficult, I had no idea just how stressful it would be!"
I have already warned Dr. Van Rooyen that I will be bringing this baby in every month for a well-baby check up for his first year at least, not on the usual 2-4-6 & 12 month schedule. Fortunately, he completely understands! Part of me will always wonder, "what if we had brought Harry in for a 9-month check up? Would we have found the cancer sooner? Would it have made a difference?" I try to be positive - "No, it wouldn't have made a difference. He just would have been a sick baby sooner". But sometimes despite my best efforts, that nagging voice pushes her way in, "Maybe if you hadn't been so focused on finishing your PhD in the fall of 2007 you would have noticed your son was starting to get sick." I really dislike that nagging voice and *really* try not to listen to her!
It also feels like a radical act of hope to talk about this baby's future with Lydia - which we do now daily. I will not let my life be shrouded in fear - but it is a conscious effort to stay positive and focused on the good each day. I try not to get too far ahead of myself and just focus on how wonderful today is - not to put off thoroughly enjoying the now and not to focus on too much on that which is unknown and unknowable. One of Harry's gifts was learning how to radically focus on the good and the gifts of the NOW - I will not squander these hard learned lessons!
On that note, have a wonderful day. If you are in western Canada - where we're experiencing an above normal temperature week - bask in the glory of the gift of the sunshine and warmth today! I know I will!
Peace and blessings,
Cynthia
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
One year three months
It has been one year and three months today since Harry died.
Life with Harry seems like a dream. I look at his pictures on my office wall and I wonder to myself, "Is that really me? Was that my life? Did that really happen?" In many ways it feels like a lifetime ago. In one more month it will be a lifetime ago, Harry's lifetime ago. That seems so impossible to me, that in one months time he will have been gone for as long as he was here.
It is so strange. I will never forget him. He is still so much of a daily presence in our lives, and yet, his life seems like a dream that happened long ago.
A family friend asked me recently if being pregnant helped to ease the pain over the loss of Harry. Yes and no. It is wonderful to have something so hopeful to look forward to. I adore being pregnant. If I had known how much I was going to love it, I would have started much younger and have planned on at least 6 kids! I love watching my belly grow and feeling the baby's gentle kicks and flutters. I am now 20 weeks and half way through. I feel wonderful - just so content and happy to be growing this blessed child in my womb.
We love him so much already.
So, yes, in a way having something so exciting to look forward to helps me stay grounded in a place of joy and hope. Yet, no, too. Nothing can take the pain of losing Harry away. His absence will always be such an ovewhelming presence in our lives, I can't imagine anything easing the pain of his loss.
It *is* nice to have the baby to look forward to. I hear a baby cry in church and I cannot wait to comfort my crying son. To hold him and nurse him and take care of him. I feel so overwhelmingly blessed to be given the chance to welcome another child into our lives.
Lydia has overcome her initial anger at having another brother, "I don't need another brother she insisted, I already have one. I want a sister!" But, fortunately, the thrill of having another sibling has overtaken her initial reluctance and she already tells the baby daily how much she loves him. She is looking forward to being able to read him stories, playing with him, and helping me take care of him. She wants to share a room with him, too. Something she always wanted to do with Harry. We have started talking about what the baby will be like and do at different ages and what Lydia will do with him then. Lydia already anticipates that when he is five, he will chase her down the street when she goes to a friend's house, wanting to come too. And she tells me, "It's okay Mommy, I'll bring him with me to Eva's house, he'll be able to play there with us." She hopes that she can be his reading buddy, when he is in nursery and kindergarten and she is in grades 5 and 6.
I think once she was able to express her fears to me, "Will this brother die like Harry?" And I was able to reassure her as best as I could, "No, I don't think so sweetie. Harry's life was his own and this baby is coming for his own life and I think he is coming to be with us for a long time. Harry's cancer was so unique, it is just not something that will happen again," that she has been able to become excited about the baby.
I, of course, wish I could outright tell her with certainty, "No this baby won't die". I believe he is completely healthy and coming for a very different experience from Harry, but my crystal ball is as blurry as the next. And I can't bring myself to lie to Lydia. And I'd of course be lying to myself, if I said the fear hasn't crossed my mind, too. But I won't tell *that* to Lydia. And I cancel that fear and send it packing as soon as it emerges. I won't even entertain that thought.
I rub my belly and smile, and yet in the next instance look up and see Harry's smiling face shining down on me from my wall and a tear rolls down my cheek. How is it that we can hold two such opposed feelings in our hearts at once? But I guess that isn't true. It is one emotion, one and the same. It is love. I look at Harry and I feel such overwhelming love for him and it makes me cry. I rub my belly and I feel such overwhelming love for my baby and it makes me smile. I'm glad I can feel such overwhelming love for both of my boys. That the love for one in no way diminishes or changes the love for the other. They are unique and wonderful and good.
I like to imagine Harry and his little brother, talking in heaven. Or well, as Lydia describes it, the baby is in "waiting to be born Heaven, where she and Harry were before they were born and where they looked down at the party of possible parents from a balcony and choose Daddy and I" and that Harry visits him there. And Harry tells him all of the wonderful things to expect in our family. How much love there is waiting for him here. I always ask the baby to make sure he gets to know his brother well in heaven, since he won't get to know him here.
I wonder what I will tell the baby about Harry. He'll see his pictures and I am sure wonder and ask. But he'll know about Harry from the time he is born, because Lydia talks about Harry every day.
Harry and his brother and sister. Three kids. I never thought I'd have three kids, certainly not two boys. I always thought I'd have girls. Maybe it sounds weird that we aleady think of ourselves as a family of five (not four). I can't unmake Harry. He's not here, exactly, but he most certainly isn't 'gone' either. Oh, but I do wish I could talk to him. Hear him talk. Oh and what I would give to hold him again.
It scares me that life moves on and that we move on and keep going, because we have no choice but to do othersise. While Harry, Harry will always be that little boy who was with us for just 16 months and died of this ridiculously rare cancer. That is what I worry about now, the distance, the ever growing distance between Harry and where life is now and making sure I always have a way to cross that chasm to never lose touch or hold on Harry. On who he was and how wonderful those 16 months were with him.
On an entirely different note, our home renovations are coming along slowly but surely. The siding started going on yesterday and it promises to be a good week weather wise, so hopefully they'll get most of the exterior done now. We can't wait to move back home. As wonderful as it is to have a great place to stay. This experience is making us appreciate our home more than ever! I *really* will post pictures soon!
Love,
Cynthia
Life with Harry seems like a dream. I look at his pictures on my office wall and I wonder to myself, "Is that really me? Was that my life? Did that really happen?" In many ways it feels like a lifetime ago. In one more month it will be a lifetime ago, Harry's lifetime ago. That seems so impossible to me, that in one months time he will have been gone for as long as he was here.
It is so strange. I will never forget him. He is still so much of a daily presence in our lives, and yet, his life seems like a dream that happened long ago.
A family friend asked me recently if being pregnant helped to ease the pain over the loss of Harry. Yes and no. It is wonderful to have something so hopeful to look forward to. I adore being pregnant. If I had known how much I was going to love it, I would have started much younger and have planned on at least 6 kids! I love watching my belly grow and feeling the baby's gentle kicks and flutters. I am now 20 weeks and half way through. I feel wonderful - just so content and happy to be growing this blessed child in my womb.
We love him so much already.
So, yes, in a way having something so exciting to look forward to helps me stay grounded in a place of joy and hope. Yet, no, too. Nothing can take the pain of losing Harry away. His absence will always be such an ovewhelming presence in our lives, I can't imagine anything easing the pain of his loss.
It *is* nice to have the baby to look forward to. I hear a baby cry in church and I cannot wait to comfort my crying son. To hold him and nurse him and take care of him. I feel so overwhelmingly blessed to be given the chance to welcome another child into our lives.
Lydia has overcome her initial anger at having another brother, "I don't need another brother she insisted, I already have one. I want a sister!" But, fortunately, the thrill of having another sibling has overtaken her initial reluctance and she already tells the baby daily how much she loves him. She is looking forward to being able to read him stories, playing with him, and helping me take care of him. She wants to share a room with him, too. Something she always wanted to do with Harry. We have started talking about what the baby will be like and do at different ages and what Lydia will do with him then. Lydia already anticipates that when he is five, he will chase her down the street when she goes to a friend's house, wanting to come too. And she tells me, "It's okay Mommy, I'll bring him with me to Eva's house, he'll be able to play there with us." She hopes that she can be his reading buddy, when he is in nursery and kindergarten and she is in grades 5 and 6.
I think once she was able to express her fears to me, "Will this brother die like Harry?" And I was able to reassure her as best as I could, "No, I don't think so sweetie. Harry's life was his own and this baby is coming for his own life and I think he is coming to be with us for a long time. Harry's cancer was so unique, it is just not something that will happen again," that she has been able to become excited about the baby.
I, of course, wish I could outright tell her with certainty, "No this baby won't die". I believe he is completely healthy and coming for a very different experience from Harry, but my crystal ball is as blurry as the next. And I can't bring myself to lie to Lydia. And I'd of course be lying to myself, if I said the fear hasn't crossed my mind, too. But I won't tell *that* to Lydia. And I cancel that fear and send it packing as soon as it emerges. I won't even entertain that thought.
I rub my belly and smile, and yet in the next instance look up and see Harry's smiling face shining down on me from my wall and a tear rolls down my cheek. How is it that we can hold two such opposed feelings in our hearts at once? But I guess that isn't true. It is one emotion, one and the same. It is love. I look at Harry and I feel such overwhelming love for him and it makes me cry. I rub my belly and I feel such overwhelming love for my baby and it makes me smile. I'm glad I can feel such overwhelming love for both of my boys. That the love for one in no way diminishes or changes the love for the other. They are unique and wonderful and good.
I like to imagine Harry and his little brother, talking in heaven. Or well, as Lydia describes it, the baby is in "waiting to be born Heaven, where she and Harry were before they were born and where they looked down at the party of possible parents from a balcony and choose Daddy and I" and that Harry visits him there. And Harry tells him all of the wonderful things to expect in our family. How much love there is waiting for him here. I always ask the baby to make sure he gets to know his brother well in heaven, since he won't get to know him here.
I wonder what I will tell the baby about Harry. He'll see his pictures and I am sure wonder and ask. But he'll know about Harry from the time he is born, because Lydia talks about Harry every day.
Harry and his brother and sister. Three kids. I never thought I'd have three kids, certainly not two boys. I always thought I'd have girls. Maybe it sounds weird that we aleady think of ourselves as a family of five (not four). I can't unmake Harry. He's not here, exactly, but he most certainly isn't 'gone' either. Oh, but I do wish I could talk to him. Hear him talk. Oh and what I would give to hold him again.
It scares me that life moves on and that we move on and keep going, because we have no choice but to do othersise. While Harry, Harry will always be that little boy who was with us for just 16 months and died of this ridiculously rare cancer. That is what I worry about now, the distance, the ever growing distance between Harry and where life is now and making sure I always have a way to cross that chasm to never lose touch or hold on Harry. On who he was and how wonderful those 16 months were with him.
On an entirely different note, our home renovations are coming along slowly but surely. The siding started going on yesterday and it promises to be a good week weather wise, so hopefully they'll get most of the exterior done now. We can't wait to move back home. As wonderful as it is to have a great place to stay. This experience is making us appreciate our home more than ever! I *really* will post pictures soon!
Love,
Cynthia
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