Creating a garden, part 1

There are many exciting things happening in the new butterfly garden but I want to show how it came together to perhaps provide inspiration to anyone who would like to create a garden, memorial or otherwise, but may feel a little intimidated.

In preparing to make this little series of tutorials, I have been giving some thought to all of the different types of gardens there are and how you really don't need a lot of space, money, or a green thumb.  Plants aren't even really required in a garden!  So I've been contemplating what the intrinsic qualities of a garden are.  I think of a garden as being of or inspired by nature and purposeful.  Prompting contemplation is a good thing too and while my gardens have always provided space for contemplation while tending to or viewing them, I'm not sure that I consider that a necessary quality.  Perhaps it's just bound to happen.

Now, I'm just an amateur gardener but if I can make something even somewhat pretty out of nature-y stuff so can you! 

I suggest beginning with assessing what you have to work with.  Maybe you have a yard or access to some dirt to plant in but again those are not required.  Beautiful gardens can be made in pots, terrariums or with air plants.  Even if you have a yard you may opt to do a smaller project that will take less time to maintain; this could be a very good idea if you are struggling with grief, which can be so exhausting. Some cemeteries allow for planting at grave sites, which is a lovely way to honor the memory of your loved one and add the atmosphere of an already contemplative location.  You would just want to keep in mind how often you want to visit the cemetery to tend your garden and choosing plants that don't need much upkeep would be a good idea.

.....

So here are some photos from several days after we moved into the new house in March when I explored the yard with the cats to see what we have to work with.  Remember the place I'm renting is in a very inexpensive area of town so fancy landscaping is not included (bars on all windows are!) but this yard is slightly quirky and charming which makes it very amenable to a whimsical garden! 

Here's the back patio, with outdoor items and stuff that hadn't yet made it into the house unceremoniously tossed from the moving truck to here and there.  I decided to put the butterfly garden by the fence at the upper right corner of the patio so it would be easily accessible.

Here's a different view of the fence and edge of the patio.  All of those vines along the fence turned out to be honeysuckle!  They have been blooming for weeks and the entire yard smells divine!

 What else did we find?  An old tire and cinder block next to an azalea bush that Sasha Kitty investigated well.
 

A pile of old bricks which made me squeal with delight - so much potential!

 The yard is quite weedy...

 These clumps of grass must be dug out, which has definitely slowed down progress.  This is where having some anger and passion behind what you are doing really helps!  The first time I made this garden was about 6 months after Toren died and I was going through an angry phase.  Seething.  Boiling.  Burning.  And that energy was directed towards an ugly patch of dirt that didn't really grow anything.  I stabbed the ground with spades for weeks, turning the hard clay and dirt.  I've calmed down over the past several years so digging up these weeds is pretty tiring!

So here's the first result photo.  Pretty ugly!  But it's a good way to illustrate that a garden can take a lot of work and time to become attractive.  It's really hard to see what is going on here with the fence and neighbors yard in the background but this photo represents a triumphant moment!  The main plants from the old garden are in the ground here.  The two butterfly bushes (the things that look like sticks in the dirt) had been pruned to at least half of their size so that they could be moved and what few leaves are present are wilty and sad looking.  It was a big risk to move them and on this day I didn't know if they would survive (they did though!).  The trellis with the antique metal butterfly tied on sits above two clematis vines brought over from the old garden.  The clematis plants got pretty beat up during the move so they are basically just roots with dry, broken vines attached at this point.

So at this point I had a vague idea of the shape of the garden in mind, but that's it.  Don't let a lack of a plan stop you!  Each plant of mine is carefully and purposefully placed but they are almost done one at a time rather than as part of a predetermined overall design.

Ok, that's all for tonight.  I really look forward to sharing the next set of photos.

.....

What do you think are necessary elements for a garden? 

.....

Here's a recommendation for music to dig up stubborn weeds to :)  Set it to repeat and grab a shovel!

The garden today

Dormant. Drenched from rain. Frozen.

Jizo is getting dirty! The pristine white was so lovely but I knew it would be impossible to maintain with the red clay of Georgia. The statue will be lovely when aged by the elements too.


Here's some cute fungus on a stump!


My New Years adventure was wonderful and healing. I'll give details later (unless my lazy blogging habits continue) but here's me January 1, 2009.

Dormant. Frozen. Standing strong against the elements.

I hate being unloved.
I hate marital separation. I bet divorce won't be great either.
I hate not having any guarantees that the future will be beautiful.
I hate that all of this emptiness began with the decision to add to our family and share our love and lives with our own baby.

Sometimes I feel like I'm being punished for asking for too much, but so many other people have husbands and babies, why couldn't I have that too? How is it possible that the desire to add love resulted in so much love lost?




Miss you Dear One.

Lights on October 31

I can't figure out how to take good nighttime photos, but these vaguely show how my house and garden were decorated for last night.

I imagined I would have plenty to say about life one year after the bad news day but I've got nothing.

After even just a week or so of blogland absence it will take a few days to catch up on all of my favorite blogs to read but I may not have anything to say to you all either. Sorry, I do care for you all very much but words have left me.

The garden today

All of the fading impatiens have been replaced by pansy's and I finally put the statue of Jizo in the garden.

This post is not totally depressing!

This post is really long and kind of purposeless. There are photos at the bottom though if you want to scroll ahead.

For my new position at work I’ll be working with another woman who has a similar position (her = make sure masters students graduate; me = make sure PhD students graduate). Since there is a lot a cross over procedure wise we’ll be tag teaming some of the work. A recent conversation:

Her: “Did you know I’m pregnant?”

Me – external voice: “No! Congratulations!”

Me – internal voice: “I hope I didn’t just noticeably flinch.”

It’s not that stinging, slap in the face anymore when I hear pregnancy announcements. Right now it hardly hurts at all, but I’m afraid there will be days when seeing her will be the trigger that turns a sad day into a very bad day.

How’s that for irony? More than having new tasks to do at work I was looking forward to having a new “life” (new meetings, new peers, new office) but the ugly pregnancy issues are quietly tagging along. Never before has anyone who I spent regular time with been pregnant and while I was pregnant I really wanted to find some other pregnant women to hang out with but never did. Now two friends and two work colleagues are expecting. Reminders of the precious thing that was violently taken away from me, and still remains out of reach, confront me regularly.

Being an insane bitch

How well I react to others people’s pregnancies (rather how little I react) depends entirely on the level of consideration they give me. I ask how they are feeling because it’s polite, and I expect some sort of reciprocation. This expectation is especially true for my friends who know I lost a baby. If I listen to descriptions of a physically difficult yet joyful and hopeful time in your life you better freaking ask me how I’m doing in the saddest, most depressing time in my life. I’m keeping score. The tally of points will be reflected in the gift I send to the baby shower (so far, in one case, I can justify a totally cheap gift!).

Therapy

My therapist did a guided relaxation meditation with me last week in therapy. At the end she asked if there were any parts of my body that were difficult to relax completely. The muscles of my neck, shoulders, and back have forgotten how to unclench so she recommended getting a massage. This was close enough to a prescription for me (yay!) so now I have a new massage therapist and a contract for monthly massages for a year (they are pretty inexpensive if you become a “member” at this place).

I had been thinking about getting regular massages anyway since I have some body issues now. Sometimes I’m upset that my body couldn’t grow a healthy baby. Exhaustion from depression has prevented me from getting back in shape and losing weight so sometimes I hate how I look. Also (this may sound weird), my uterus has been depressed; it’s like my body mourns for the baby it was growing and craves completing the pregnancy. My mind and body are very disconnected and struggling with different, yet related, types of grief.

Since my reason for seeking massages is to aid my grief work when asked about what I was looking for out of massage therapy I blurted out “My son died” and immediately my massage therapist is hugging me, telling me how sorry she is, and telling me how she has a son – not as bragging but as a way of saying she is truly sad for me. In addition to a fantastic massage she gave me some therapy in the form of life and health advice. Even though she did talk about God’s plan and how God does not give us more than we can handle (which I disagree with, I can’t handle this, I don’t even understand how that statement makes any sense at all) she said other things that were interesting. Here are her recommendations for my health and healing:

1. On the day before my next massage I should consume nothing from sundown until after the massage the next day. This includes food, alcohol, caffeine, nicotine; consumption of water is encouraged. The idea is to help me feel empty.

2. She recommended only drinking or smoking when I’m having a good time so these will be things for celebration, not compensation.

3. When asked about my exercise habits I said how I was having difficulty getting back into a gym routine and she suggested I not get into a routine but be spontaneous instead. However I am to sweat for 20 minutes everyday, and sitting in a sauna counts.

4. She suggested I take fish oil supplements to help out the future of my spinal bones.

Being a girl (a normal, not crying in the bathroom kind of girl even!)

I spent the rest of the afternoon being a girl by going shopping. The kind of shopping that makes husbands regret marriage due to financial reasons. When I returned home though he actually asked me what I bought and sat through the emptying of the bags; he was probably waiting to see something that even remotely interested him but he was out of luck – I didn’t even get anything for him.

I got:

Hair stuff

Ammonia free hair dye, and Aveda’s black malva shampoo and conditioner. Hubby groans and rolls eyes at the sight of the liter of shampoo emerging from the Aveda bag since he thinks shampoo from the grocery store is just fine. But I pity the fool who interferes with my attempts at maintaining healthy, shiny, black hair. Hubby knows this is not the battle to pick.

Cosmetics

Dior counter girl: “Black Out mascara is 6 times darker than other black mascara”
Me: “Wrap it up” - without even understanding how they decided it was 6 times darker but frankly not even caring.

Chanel powder (double perfection, vanilla, intensity .5), Aveda lipstick (cerise), and after years of searching, a red lipstick that looks good on me (I’ve been searching since Chanel’s Lucifer Kissed was discontinued) Mac’s Viva Glam I (yay! I’m so relieved to have the search over!)

And that is how to look like me! Then some more little socks, the kind that you can’t see so it looks like you are wearing shoes with bare feet. The socks are so small they get lost easily. And some fish oil capsules. And two blouses for work.

The garden today

This little ground cover looks so cute climbing up the rock!

Black eyed Susan's

Familiars
The cats were waiting by the door when I came in from taking photos in the garden. They just look really funny especially Sasha kitty sitting in the saucer for a houseplant that is sunning outside for the summer. Such dorks.

The garden today

Carnage
Hey you! Yes, you, right up front! Why so sad and wilty?

Now for some gardening information: Impatiens will swoon and collapse with only one day of hot sun and dry soil. It turns out they do better with partial shade. Most are able to be revived after a good watering but this one is on day two of looking pathetic so I'm not sure if it's going to make it. A lovely pile of rocks may take up residence in this spot very soon. I don't know why just this one is fainting, it's not like I only water the plants around it.

DH has planned our weekend which includes spending Friday night at a friends house and spending Saturday night in Charlotte. Which means I won't be home to water the flowers for all of Saturday and most of Sunday. Under the hot sun of the South this means I may be replacing all of the impatiens next week.

And this is how agitated I am ... this weekend is supposed to be fun! I used to like getting away but I just feel really resentful that I won't be able to tend the garden for a couple of days.

Being a basket case
Remember how I was having good days? Those were nice.

I hope my therapist enjoyed my cheerful mood last week because in one hour she's going to get bombarded by a whirl wind of confused and angry emotions. For a sneak peak at today's issues:
1. A Walk to Remember is coming up ... I don't want to go alone but I don't think anyone will want to come with me and I don't want to try to enjoy the ceremony with someone who feels uncomfortable being there.
2. The book I just finished (cited below) says that for a completion of grieving assigning some meaning to the loss is necessary. I am rebelliously refusing to find meaning because no lesson or "bigger picture" seems worth how bad I feel about the deadbaby.
3. A friend said that the baby will never be forgotten but will find a place in me to reside where he is cherished. Sometimes I'm pretty upset with the baby for not growing correctly and I'm ashamed by this anger towards him. I have a great deal of love for him but I also feel other emotions towards him, negative emotions.

Off to overwhelm my therapist!

Butterflies visit the garden everyday now. Today two swallowtails (I think, I still need to learn to identify different butterflies) and two little white butterflies flew around me, surrounding me for a second, as I inspected the garden. Most of the perennials are doing well and getting larger. Japanese beetles dining on the leaves of some plants is still an issue but it's getting better. Half of the impatiens are large and pretty, half are wilty and sad looking.

Here's a fuzzy photo of one of the white butterflies. Some chewed up leaves are nicely in focus, stupid beetles.



The clematis I thought I had killed has resurrected and looks so pretty. The clematis that I got this year and was doing so well for a while is now all brown and crispy; perhaps it will come back next year.
















The new Jizo statue arrived safe and sound last week. It's still in the house hanging out with the other one. I'm making up a sort of "welcome to the garden" ceremony, I'll probably place the statue alone but might invite some friends over for a party later and show them the garden. I have a very long set of prayer flags to hang in some trees opposite of the garden and then I thought I'd make a bunch of origami butterflies to hang around the garden. I imagined myself lovingly, contentedly and carefully folding beautiful origami paper into delicate butterflies. HA! Origami is much more difficult than I anticipated! The introduction to a book of origami instructions mentioned the concentration development that occurs with the practice of origami. I am pathetically short on concentration and patience lately. Folded and refolded pieces of colorful origami paper are strew about my living room, and there is not one completed butterfly! My plan is to find a new set of butterfly making instructions and maybe convince some friends to help me.


One of the last questions for the National Birth Defects Prevention Study interview was "What do you think causes birth defects?" Not my baby's defect in particular, birth defects in general. I both very much like and very much dislike that question. I like it because I think it's a good idea to ask study participants about what they think risk factors or health outcomes are; answers could help with generating hypotheses (in the instance where the causes are unknown, like some birth defects) and I think people like having a chance to talk about how they think they are affected. I answered the question very generally: genetics, environmental exposures, maternal health factors (perhaps I mentioned infection specifically), but I wish I had also said something about my baby's condition.

No doctor has given me any hint of why Toren never made kidneys. There is no family history of renal agenesis in our families; the pathology report found the baby to be chromosomally normal. I was told repeatedly that I did not do anything to cause it, but I think there has to be some explanation for the agenesis. Was it some medication I used before I knew I was pregnant? Did the asymptomatic urinary tract infection I was diagnosed with at the first prenatal visit mess up his development? What about the velamentous cord insertion and all of the bleeding from that; did he just not get enough blood flow to develop all of his organs?

Last night with the house to myself, armed with a glass of nice wine I set out to review the literature on bilateral renal agenesis. All along my fear has been that there are studies out there identifying the risk factors, and then I would feel guilty for unknowingly causing my son to not be compatible with life. Instead, beyond a genetic component, I again found no explanation. I'm waiting for one more article.

Having no answer is frustrating. At least if I knew some risk factors I could avoid those things the next time I attempted pregnancy. As it is, beyond stopping medications earlier, I know of nothing to do next time to ensure a healthy pregnancy. Of course a pregnancy which results in a live baby that you take home cannot be promised, no matter how good you are, and I hate that right now.

The garden today

In the beginning this area was full of weeds. Today it looks like this.
It's not very impressive since the plants have a lot of growing to do. Everything is about the same height right now but later some plants will be taller than others. I planted a bunch of annuals to provide color and fill up space while the perennials are still small. As I find pretty outdoor decorations those will be added.


Four butterflies visited the garden while I was outside. Here is a little brown one among the impatiens.


Here's one of my gardening helpers viewing a large butterfly.



And a better picture of the butterfly.



Since the last post I have been practicing with Jizo with sitting practice versus pitching practice. That's a bit more appropriate...

Since this is turning into a photo blog, here is a photo of my indoor Jizo statue, in case anyone is interested. The statue stands before an antique fireplace screen which I think makes Jizo, who is most often portrayed as very simple in dress and appearance, look really fancy!

Summer activities have kept me too busy to write; I've a mental list though of things to discuss - all GOOD things, making progress through the grief mire kinds of things. I wanted to tell you about how well the garden is doing and post some pictures of it, and tell you about my resolve to return to the gym and do tons of yoga. Now that company is gone and the house is still the "happy" phase has taken a hiatus. Thanks for visiting, it was nice while it lasted.

Depressed musings begin here, feel free to stop reading at this point.

Gardening
I have banned myself from the garden. A few days ago I got unreasonably upset by snarky comments addressed to me via LJ and retreated to the garden to calm down. I saw a butterfly flitting around the impatiens. It was the first one I've seen and I didn't expect to see any this year due to the spray I used during the Japanese Beetle saga (perhaps more battling the beetles later since that is actually useful information). I just stood there, unmoving, mouth agape. It was joined by another butterfly, both small and white. They explored the impatiens, then my gardenias, then the neighbors yard, back to the impatiens ...

Most of the planting is done in the garden, just a few ground cover plants and annuals to place. Otherwise the work of creating the garden is almost done - next is maintenance and providing an environment that encourages growth. After weeks of work one would, should, be happy with the progress, especially with seeing butterflies, since that is a major point of the garden.

It's odd then how much I hate the garden sometimes - my sanctuary, my prayer, my distraction. A few hours after seeing the butterflies I had a vision where I leveled the garden. Plants ripped out, cut apart, stomped into a pulp. Trellis twisted, glass centerpiece shattered. Rocks screamed at then thrown out of the yard. I can't face the garden right now. I don't trust myself to nurture it. Luckily this area is getting rain this week and hopefully by the time I need to water again I'll be eager to look for new growth and such.

The Jizo statue arrived last week but it's head had broken off during transit. It's this statue. A replacement statue is expected to arrive next week. I wanted to do something special to welcome Jizo to the garden...not sure what to do though.

Lame, sad stuff
The snarky comment that upset me was because I didn't talk to someone in the grocery store. Hurt her feelings, obviously retaliation is a must by telling all of our mutual friends how much I suck. Whatever... this kind of stuff doesn't bother me too much, however it made me realize that I am in AnnaLand a lot.

The density of the fog I've been living in has me shocked, horrified, ashamed. Through the haze, introductions, faces, names are obscured and quickly forgotten. I don't look at people in grocery stores, I don't care who may be there.

Most of the time now I hold it together - polite, happy appearance, well aware that this is what is expected of me while in public and at home with my husband. I've been crying for the past two nights though. Little things set me off. The down mood began before I even checked the calendar to see what was going on last year... wow, suddenly I'm having trouble even writing about this ... about a year ago my son was implanting. The pregnancy was beginning. It seems impossible that it was that long ago. Almost an entire year out of my life has been wasted, spent in sorrow, barely getting through the days.

This has gotten too sad for me now. More later.

Secrets

I have secrets! Not because the information is confidential, there is just no one to talk about it with. But I do have things I want to say so today I am grateful for this anonymous blog.

Several days ago I ordered the Jizo statue I wanted for the memorial garden. The topic has not been easy to work into a conversation and I think my husband will just be annoyed if I tell him so no one knows about it, but I am way excited for it to get here! After my plant shopping spree on Saturday I decided to go ahead and get the more expensive things I knew I wanted in the garden. I also got a rain barrel, which I still need to install.

I spent a lot of time working on the garden last weekend and it's really starting to take shape! One bit of bad news is the butterfly bushes are being eaten. It almost seems overwhelming, like is nothing safe from danger? I'm not a good gardener in the first place so I'm not exactly sure what to do. Google will be consulted shortly.

My other secret involves keeping my emotions to myself. I'm not actually happy about this one, I feel like I'm being rushed through bereavement too much. But my husband expressed that he is really sick of me being sad so much and my friends say how much they want to see me happy. It's been 7.5 months since Toren was delivered. I still feel like I need some tender care but that has dried up. If people who are expecting a baby invite me over and leave a new baby stroller in plain sight it seems they are saying I should no longer be bothered by not having Toren alive and squirming around in a stroller of his own. I'm expected to suck it up when shopping for maternity clothes that I don't need. I can't wince when surrounded by visions of happy, excited pregnant women. My husband says he is tired of me being so self-centered and jealous, I think he is ashamed of me. But I also think seeing a pregnant woman post deadbaby is a bit more complicated than jealousy. Yes, I miss my son, I wish he were here, and it's not fair that mine died while most live. But I also miss being close to my husband and feeling cherished and protected by him. While pregnant that happened, after delivery I became undesirable, someone who didn't need love and affection. It's possible that my husband is grieving over the baby. But he denies that this is the case so it appears that in not growing a healthy baby I lost love from my husband.

I know this is getting kind of heavy and sad, but I'm not distraught, in fact I've been able to approach the lack of enjoyment in our marriage calmly. If we divorce I will be sad that things were so close to being so good for us. We were both so happy to be expecting our first baby and so excited for the opportunity to raise him. Losing the baby has torn us apart and I'm not sure we can recover from it.

Anyway, my new challenge is to appear happy even when I am sad. I'm not sure this is healthy. I'll talk about it with my psychiatrist this week.

Shopping...waiting

For all the composure I've displayed this week I am quietly an emotional wreck. Several days ago my husband and I were invited to dinner at the home of friends who are expecting their first child. She and I haven't been close lately since she is joyously pregnant and I am in a perpetual, sour deadbaby mood. We make each other uncomfortable and I have felt her pushing me away for several months. I really hate relationship limbo, wondering if a friendship will survive, so out of curiosity of how the evening would turn out I accepted the invitation.

It was a nice evening. I truly mean that. Heart wrenching lowlights included the new baby stroller parked in the dining room, looking through maternity clothes to help her find an outfit for an evening out, finding out the baby was likely a boy (so much for my prayers that they have a girl), and hearing the selected name. At the same gestational age I was finding out my baby boy had no kidneys. I never grew big enough for maternity clothes. We didn't buy a single baby item since I was hanging out in the worrisome "threatened miscarriage" stage for so long. I'm not sure we would have purchased anything by that time anyway. And if I ever become pregnant again I don't think I'll be able to face a baby item until we know we are bringing a baby home. After delivery of a breathing, crying, living newborn my husband will have to run out to buy a car seat so we can safely and legally get it home then we can figure out the rest from there.

At dinner my friends husband confided that my friend was feeling a lack of confidence in her appearance and asked me to help her shop for some clothes to wear to a fancy party. So two days later guess who is in maternity stores searching for pretty clothes. For my certificate of sainthood my name is spelled A - N - N ... just kidding. I had to leave the store while she tried stuff on but no crying or freak outs occurred. She found pretty things, mission accomplished! I have been having an anxiety attack since then. I feel like throwing up then curling up and dying. But instead of digging my own shallow grave to wallow in I'll be digging holes for new plants.

Since my chest hurts today and I can't breathe or concentrate on anything I spent several hours and too much money buying plants for the memorial garden. Mostly little perennials that supposedly attract butterflies and a Korean Lilac which was on sale since it's blooming period has passed for this year. Shopping was a nice distraction and the suckiness of my garden is really bothering me so hopefully these plants will help with that.

Mentally I've been calling it the goddamn garden all day. Goddamn plants, goddamn planting soil, goddamn hand shovel. I don't want a memorial garden! I hate memorial gardens! I should be entirely too busy caring for a son to have time to plant anything.

But what else is there to do today? I need to fill time while waiting to feel happier, stronger, successful. Time to dig.

The garden today

My not-so-green thumb is apparently a huge improvement over my husbands we-have-a-garden-? method of watering outdoors. I spent 5 days out of state at a family reunion and before leaving asked hubby to water the plants outside if it didn't rain, and make sure the cats are cared for. Basically, don't let things die while I'm away! On the day I traveled back he watered the houseplants that have taken up their summer residence on the deck; he didn't water the memorial garden at all.

After baking in the hot Southern sun for 5 days the garden doesn't look so good right now. The transplanted clematis was completely brown and dry so I clipped it away. The new clematis developed a dead vine so that part was removed too. The butterfly bushes are hanging in there and have tiny blooms! The sprouting of sown seeds is still questionable but there are some itty bitty plants that do not look like the weeds I recognize so I have hope. Tonight I pulled some weeds and watered well.

Overall, the garden still looks more like a patch of dirt with some random plants than a real garden. It's time to find more "stuff" for it. Perhaps stepping stones, cute butterfly decorative things, and some more plants. Growing plants from seeds is something that I just need to do in this garden. However, I also need some faster progress - instant gratification - faster transformation from weedy dirt bed to a pretty place. I'd like to, need to, have it into a decent shape, including a Jizo garden statue, by November 8, the first year anniversary of my son's delivery.

Now for too much information. This is a new blog and I'm not sure where it's going to go; I'm not sure how much of my crazy side I want to write about. For tonight I'm just writing and may remove parts later.

Even though the garden is not looking great it is not the ugliest thing in my life this week. Yesterday turned into a bad day. To set the scene, the day before was spent in airports after visiting with family (which is not a "good thing", rather attendance at family reunions is my duty), then I suspected hubby did not water my garden (a far away glance revealed the dead branches of the clematis and I couldn't face the plants up close yesterday). So yesterday mornings therapy session was entered feeling exhausted, frustrated and hurt by stupid things some family members said to me, and extremely sad that my husband would forget to keep my garden alive while I was away. The session brought many emotions to the forefront. Then I read a message that my friend has a new nephew. Then I read an e-mail from a friend in response to an e-mail answering her question if the rumors of me being pregnant were true. She said that if it's "meant to be" we will have a baby someday. Well wishes such as "meant to be" kind of send me over the edge lately. At dinner I ask my husband if he wants to stay married and did not get an answer of "most definitely". Second margarita is ordered. Suddenly I must see a friend so I end up at her house chain smoking and doing tequila shots while crying and talking about things that would have been kept boiling inside if I had not been plastered. This is followed by passing out on her couch and then 12 hours of vomiting. Another not-my-finest moment.

But today I feel much better (now that the hangover has subsided). I do not know the details of last night after I passed out but my husband has been kinder today and I feel so much comfort knowing that people care that I had a crappy weekend and want to help me. Kind of looking forward to tomorrow...

Beginnings

The garden is still primarily a patch of dirt - dirt with small plants sprouting up. Unfortunately I can't tell the difference at this tiny stage between the sprouts of seeds deliberately sown and weeds declaring a space theirs.

Are you a violet or a weed?
Baby's breath or weed?
Sunflower or weed?

There are a few other items planted in the new garden. Two small butterfly bushes; one should have white flowers, the other purple. A trellis with a decorative glass centerpiece. One small clematis still establishing a root system has heroically produced 3 mauve flowers; it's neighbor on the opposite side of the trellis appears to have died. This dead clematis is a transplant, coming from a spot by the deck where it struggled for years, its main stem badly damaged during transplantation by my clumsy movements. Can clematis be propagated through cuttings? Without even bothering to Google it I have taken clippings, placed them in a glass of water on the window ledge above the kitchen sink, and examine the submerged stalks daily looking for sprouting roots. So far nothing.

The memorial garden itself is in a rather unfortunate location. It's an oddly shaped section of soil, surrounded by brick pathways, at the Northwest corner of the house. The centerpiece of this section of yard is the air conditioning unit. Also included are an old stump from the huge tree that leaned over the house when we first moved in, and a sharp dip to the land where the rain gutters let out and the rushing water has eroded away the dirt. The rotting stump provides growing grounds for interesting fungi.

I'm sitting outdoors facing a patch of dirt, thinking ... all you can do is smile gently at yourself sometimes. Two days ago the horn from a car behind me, urging me to the appropriate action called for by a green light, snapped me from reverie of wondering if this was the afternoon my life would change with the arrival of the latest self-help book ordered. It didn't arrive that day, but yesterday my anticipation was fulfilled by a small package in the mailbox. Frantic skimming of the opening chapters filled me with hope that "When Bad Things Happen to Good People" could provide much desired information.

"Oh! The places you will go!" My life has turned into a search for meaning, a search for an explanation for a dead baby. Or, in the chance that there is no explanation, a way out of this slump. While waiting I tend the garden ... digging ... watering ... watching for growth.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

-Dr. Seuss