Coming full circle...

Life....it really is like a "box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get."  Yes, I realize that's such a cliche line from Forrest Gump...but if you think about it, it's true...I have a blessed life.  I'm so honored to have the family I was born into as well as the family I married into and created.

But there is a hole you see...and that is of my dad, Bob. For the first 24 years of my life, he was there and I was his baby daughter, the youngest girl of FOUR daughters...to say he was outnumbered is putting it mildly.  Many, actually most, say I take after him in many ways and they would be right.  I was close to my dad growing up, while in college and those precious few years beyond when I began my "adult" life.  And I learned a lot from him along the way...and, yes, my love of the New York Yankees came from him (sorry folks but my Yanks will forever be part of who I am!!).

Today, marks 11 years since he's been gone...but not forgotten. Ever.

October 29, 2001: It started out as any other day with work, a routine doctor's visit and then the gym. BUT, as I walked up the stairs that night to my apartment I heard the phone ring. I tried to get in to answer but couldn't in time. Yet, something told me to check the machine right away. What I heard I will never forget: my mom frantic, saying "your dad had a stroke I think and they're taking him to X hospital." Oh My God, I thought as I raced back to the car....I'm sure I drove thru countless red lights and far exceeded the speed limits pretty much the entire way.  I got there just as the ambulance did and with it I saw my dad with a paramedic on the stretcher with him performing CPR. I yelled something to the effect: "Please save him b/c he has to walk me down the aisle."

But alas, Dad was gone...gone b/f he hit the ground I'd learn and no amount of CPR or rescusitation efforts would bring him back.

The aftermath of that night is a blur...but we survived and slowly moved forward.  It's not about moving on b/c you don't ever really move on but Life continues and so must you b/c we are still here on Earth, living, breathing and alive.

And guess what? we learned to live again...and laughter returned.  You see for me laughter is the best medicine.  For laughter really does heal the soul and it's also a window into the soul.

My dad and mom taught me about hard work. Nothing was handed to them in life, rather, they earned it all through hard work and love.  The love they had for each other and for each of us girls. And they taught me what life is about.

As I sit here on the 11th anniversary of his death, I remember the memories, the stories and laughter that was my dad.  Oh and the practical joker who LOVED the 4th of July and spending time with his family.  No parent is perfect but I got pretty lucky with Bob Bednarski as my dad.

To my girls he's their guardian angel but to me he will forever and always be Dad.  So, Dad, if you can read this from Heaven (not sure how the whole Internet craze works up there!), yes I have tears for you and miss you each and everyday but I'm good.  Great in fact.  And thanks for being my dad, confidante and friend.

Now, I think I'll just go grab a beer for you, Dad!

Life, Love and all that's in between...

When I first created a blog I had in my mind that I'd post daily, often. Yeah, right.  Life happens and guess what?! I actually am crazed where something has to give and often times it's the one thing I love most...writing.  Not the kind of writing I do daily as part of my career, rather, the kind that lets me get out thoughts and feelings out on paper (or a computer). 

Well, tonight I'm starting again b/c frankly I miss it.  I love writing.  I'm not the world's best writer, but I'm me and well, that's okay.  As I sit here thinking about what to write, of course I'm drawn to what's happening tomorrow....Caroline's 2nd Birthday.

I have tears b/c I don't know where the last two years have went.  I've cherished every moment of them I know but somehow they've still gone by. Fleeting by really.  When I became a mom, I came to know that utterly raw love where you'd do anything for your little person, even run in front of a truck if it meant they were safe.

Yup, that's me.  When CJ came into my life, wow.  I was blown away by how much the love emotion grew and multiplied. 

CJ...she is my defiant, temper tantrum, hot headed two year old. Her smile and laugh makes me instantly light up.  Whenever I'm having a rough day, I think of her and instantly smile b/c she lights up a room....and commands it too all at once!  But that's Caroline.  And I wouldn't change her for anything.

The thing that's funny about her is that she can pull a little prank on you and know it!  I suspect she's going to be my class clown and the one I get called about. A LOT.

But that's okay b/c she's CJ and it's who she is.

As a child growing up I struggled with insecurity.  Who doesn't right?! But my parents always reinforced what an amazing individual I was and that I was uniquely wonderful...because I am Sarah. Well, that's what I want for CJ and Hannah....to be confident in who they are b/c wow, what incredibly little girls they are. (and perhaps a little of that will rub back on me b/c well, I still struggle with it!)

Yes, they're different and that's great! Yet, they also share an amazing bond that only sisters do (kinda an expert on that since I do have 3 sisters myself!). I love how they talk together, Hannah pretends to read CJ books, they watch out for each other and just like being together.  Sure, they fight and hit and push BUT at the end of the day their sisters =)

So, tomorrow, Sept. 27, at 11:02 AM I'm going to smile and remember the day two years ago when Caroline Joanne Hartigan entered the world, screaming and all!!  I love you CJ with all my heart and sole....I am honored and blessed to be your mom.

The Daycare Choice...

One of my closest friends this week took her child, for the first time, to daycare...and has it been a rough and emotional week for her....and one I remember well.

Almost exactly four years ago (in May) I dropped my little 13 week old, Hannah, off to The St. Charles Child Development Center (CDC) and I cried as I walked in...cried as I walked out...cried as I drove to work...cried as I walked into my office...cried, well, you get the picture.  I wasn't completely on-board with this whole "working mom" outside of the home thing.  Truth be told, there was several times that first month back at work, I thought about leaving my career and staying home.

But something held me back from that decision....well, a few things really.  You see I love my career and am happier b/c of it.  Make no mistake, it's hard and there are days that I dislike and would like a "re-do" button.  Yet, overall I knew, in my gut, in that first month back at work in May 2008 I am who I am and my career is an integral part of me. AND I knew (again, in my gut) that Hannah would be a happier baby b/c momma was happy.

As women we tend to judge each other as to whether we stay home or work outside of the home....and I'm here to say: there is no perfect choice.  Rather, there is only the best choice we, as individuals, need to decide for our families.  I have respect and admiration for my friends who stay home full time...but that isn't me.  And, my choice isn't theirs...and that is OKAY.

For me, my choice is daycare and I am thankful for the CDC.  The structure and lesson plans the teachers have at every level leaves me in awe.  I am grateful to them b/c they are teaching my girls and when Hannah tells me about her day she talks about her friends, her teachers and what they did in their classroom during the day.

Someone once asked me if the CDC takes care of my girls like I do...and that answer is no.  CDC doesn't replace me, rather, it's an extension of me. I remember one story in particular: Hannah was about 5 months, and Tim was working long hours so I picked her up for school...as I picked her up from her rolling position on the floor, I actually could have sworn she just stared at me blankly, as if to ask, "Who are you?" Well, the waterworks of tears started as soon as I got into my car...In fact, I called Tim and cried about how she didn't seem to care that I picked her up.  He, being Tim, chuckled and said: "Sarah she's only five months old and likely just tired. Honey you are her mom and nothing replaces that." And guess what?? He was right.  But don't tell him I said that...;)

I am mom and nothing replaces that.  The teachers at the CDC are there to TEACH my girls and help them grow as little people.  Hannah and CJ look to me to instill values, right and wrong, morals and to lead by example. My girls know I am mom and they know the CDC is a part of their day to teach them, to make new friends, to play and to, well, be kids.  In fact, my favorite part of the day is when I now come home to running feet and hearing the words MOMMY come out of their mouths.   

Whatever choice we make for our kids, is what's right for our families.  And as I get ready for bed, I rest knowing that the choice I have made is the right one for my family.

Journey through darkness...

As I sat reading the news today I came across an article about how much postpartum depression goes undiagnosed and under-treated.  It was at that moment that I decided to tell my story.  Not for the sake of telling it...rather, to share my journey through postpartum depression or PPD as I call it now.:

Yes, it's true: I survived postpartum depression.   I am one of the roughly 15 percent of women who come down with PPD following the birth of a child.  Never thought it would happen to me.   When Hannah was born I had nothing but joy and happiness all throughout my maternity leave so when Caroline came I thought “why would anything be different?”  In fact, during my pregnancy with Caroline I often thought of how “easy” this second child would be b/c I’ve already been through it once and it was another girl.  I couldn’t have been more wrong…PPD hit me and it hit me hard.

Anxiety. Depression. Sleepless nights. Yup, that was me and then some.  I had panic attacks when I was with my girls and when I was without them.  Went to a restaurant once and had to head to the bathroom to calm myself down b/c I was anxious around people…yes, to those who know me, you read that right.  Me…the person whose job is  public relations!  BUT it was me, for a time… 

And sleep, what was that? I couldn’t close my eyes and sleep…people say you’re supposed to sleep when the baby sleeps.  Yeah, right.  Fact was I couldn’t sleep as my thoughts raced and my panic attacks started.  Came to be that I dreaded night…I often say I forgot how to sleep and in some ways that was true.

When did it start, you ask?  Three weeks almost to the day of when Caroline was born.  Did I recognize it right away?  Yes…sorta.  I knew after that first panic attack and sleepless night that something wasn’t right but denied it was PPD for a few weeks. In fact, I've come to learn that denial is common...after all, who really wants to admit that...not I.  At first anyway...

 

I DID see my OB but it wasn’t a great experience.  They are nice enough folks but oddly enough they couldn’t deal with what I was going through and weren’t trained to help me.  It was PPD after all and you’d think an OB office could help since its direct result of hormones and having a baby.  BUT turns out they can’t…

So, my journey took me to my family practice physician who helped in more ways than I could have ever anticipated.  They treated me with compassion and love during every visit, sometimes two or three times a week.  And my doc said something I will always be grateful for:  “Sarah, you are normal but hormones do funny things to our bodies.  You will get through this and continue to be a wonderful mom.” Thank you Dr. F.  

Slowly through support and medication I started to come out of the darkness and rays of sunshine poked thru…and what a welcome they were!  And I started to enjoy my girls again and relish Caroline as the baby she was…no longer the newborn, newborn BUT it didn’t matter…

And then there was my family, particularly Tim, my husband.  When we married in 2003 we promised “In sickness and health…” well, that proved to be true.  He was left to do the majority of the care and parenting of the kids while I worked through this…there were tears on both our ends but thru it all we grew stronger together. He was the family rock and, while he didn’t completely understand what I was going thru, he knew I wasn’t his wife during that time and I needed help. And I think he said a few prayers himself that I'd come back soon =)

Our network of family was immense...they say "it takes a village to raise a child" and it my case I couldn't have asked for a better "village." Everyone step up, wrapped their arms around me and our little family…even at 2 a.m. one morning when I was panicked and not sleeping, I called my sister who talked to me for more than an hour.  She didn’t say she was sleeping (which of course she was at 2 AM!), rather, she just talked and listen to me rattle on about who knows what…   

And then there was my mom...her youngest daughter was going through something that scared even her but she never lost faith...Halloween 2010 will forever be part of my memory as she came over that night just to be with me.  She cried with me and held me…it was that night I came to recognize that this wasn’t just simply “anxiety”.  Rather, it was, in fact, PPD.

Eventually the rays became brighter and the panic attacks became less and less til there were none.  The sleepless night went the same way…and slowly I was "ME" again.  

 And the PPD became a memory….EXCEPT it is one that will never be forgotten b/c it changed me.  As a person. As a mother.  And for that I am thankful.  Yup, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger…and I am. Stronger. Kinder and More real.

I AM the face of PPD.  And to tell all women who may be suffering from PPD: you too will come out of the darkness.    

AND you are not alone….there are many of us…and we are real...it doesn't make us weaker, but, rather stronger. 

Non stop chatter...

"What goes around comes around"...

No saying has ever been more true that this one as of right now.  I was a talker when I was young.  To anyone who knows me, it's no surprise...there's a reason I went into public relations =)  I love people and have made "talking" an art!  Well, I think there is a four year old on her way to that same title.  For more than an hour now, Hannah has proceeded to talk to me about everything...colors, her friends at school, saying the alphabet, CJ, Tim, the cats, etc...truthfully, I've lost track of everything she's telling me.  It's a bit much really. 

But yet, it is who she is.  She is her mother's daughter and I'm quickly realizing that more and more.  Have a feeling that when she gets into kindergarten that her biggest area of improvement will be just that--talking.

My mom used to ask me to be silent for a moment so she could think....and, I'm admitting here and now that I'm about to say that same line to Hannah.  It's funny how we used to think our parents were crazy to say some of the lines they said.  Tonight, I thank my mom for that line b/c now I know what she means....

2 tired kids...for different reasons

Sigh. Not gonna lie in that I had a crazy day at the office. I say my life is "never dull" and that's true on all fronts. As I was coming home tonigh Tim called..."can u stop and buy Motrin? CJ teeth are really bothering her." at that moment I knew it wasn't a happy home :) when I did walk in the door...Hannah looked exhausted, but said she wasn't . And CJ, well she was laughing but not in her normal way...it was more of a show like "mommy, I'm okay but not great..." Hannah decided to not sleep last night...well maybe not by choice but rather she had trouble. Caroline, on the hand hand, is teething like its her job. Feel bad for the little one bc she tried to put her entire hand in the mouth to naw away at it... And so as I entered the house tonight,I immediately went into mommy mode: cleaned up the kitchen, gave Caroline her medicine and got Hannah in her pjs. All while Tim looked at me with a grateful look. At leastl he managed to get dinner ready and for THAT I was grateful to him :) And as I write this, Caroline is out as is Hannah...since 7 pm and 8 pm respectively :) I hope both are in better mood tomorrow as its a big day: grandma's house and getting our new minivan. THAT story will be for another day...never thought I'd get a minivan but yet...

An open letter to my oldest...

Dear Hannah,
This past Sunday you turned four and truly I am in shock.  Not so much in that you are, indeed, four, but where has the time gone?!

I remember that day in early June 2007 when I actually found out I was expecting you...well, didn't know it was YOU at the time but soon I would.  I had soo many emotions that day from shock to happiness to anxiety to amazement to all that's in between.  You see my journey to get you wasn't expected...Mommy struggled to have a baby.  I was lucky though because, in the end, I had you...my beautiful, independent child.

And the journey of fertility problems and countless negative tests was worth it b/c I became a mom to you.

Fast forward to the day we found out you were YOU!  I convinced myself you were a boy b/c I just thought it was what we were "supposed" to have for the first child....but the tears and laughter that accompanied when the ultrasound tech said GIRL was proof that you were, indeed, meant to be Hannah Dianne Hartigan.  Grandma Dianne was there that day with us and so was Grandpa Bob...in spirit but I knew your Grandpa was shining down on us and you...afterall God gave us you (like the book I read you often).

Words cannot describe the day you were born...you didn't exactly come out as I expected but then again I learned LIFE was never to be expected again.  To hear your cries was the best sound in the word...that followed by your Daddy saying "Sarah! She's out and she looks to be 9 pounds!" LOL!  Only to discover you were just 7 pounds, 2 oz.  And all of it was pure love from me to you (and Daddy too).

Now that's not to say we weren't scared out of our minds to take you home and didn't know quite what to do when you'd cry for two hours straight, at night, when we wanted to go to bed.  BUT we learned and figured it out...all because we knew YOU were our precious, wonderful gift.

Earlier this week you turned four years old and I cried.  Yes, I did...not in front of you but in the shower after you went to bed that night.  I always knew I wanted children and to have you (AND your sister) is....well, I can't quite put into words...

I am so proud of you b/c you are thoughtful, kind, and most of all, 100 percent YOU! And you do know your manners! =)

I love you Hannah Dianne Hartigan and whatever the next 4, 10, 20, 30 years brings....I am so happy to have you as my child.

Love ALWAYS and FOREVER,
Mom

Notice the personality?!

Just an hour after she was born...and yes, I look tired! LOL!

Look at her...and notice the resemblence, even then, to her daddy!!

Hannah's first Christmas...in 2008

One year later....Christmas 2009

My Oldest Girl!!