two weekends left--

before #babyboybrooks is expected. I keep telling him we wouldn't mind if he was a few days early or right on time.

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

How I feel about the weekend ahead-- 

images courtesy of 1, 2, 3

There isn't anything particularly exciting lined up for the weekend, I'm just glad it's here. Time has been slowing down as I sit in this waiting game for the little guy to show up, #38weeks. And since we're ready to receive him at home, I'm itchin' to spend my time and energy outside. Last weekend we walked a 4-mile trail and I felt great. I'm hoping to do the same tomorrow. Springtime in the Bay Area is delightful and right now I can't get enough. I would love to add a dog to our Saturday; sometimes having a dog around makes everything better.

Topic that's been on my mind lately -- what is love? How do people show their love? It's demonstrated in different ways depending on the relationship. Some people like bold, grand gestures of love, while others like love shown in the little ways. Where do you fall? 

Hoping you have a great weekend ahead. Sending some love out there!

celebrating the resident teenager this weekend--

images courtesy of 1, 2

crossing out another week feels good on this rainy friday, and gets me closer to #babyboybrooks' birthday.

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

we are all things baby in this household as the days go by. things like preparing my birth plan for the office in case I go into labour there; washing all of the baby clothes and blankets and bedding that we've received (people have been so kind and generous); organizing clothes and diapers and toys; preparing to attend a day-long childbirth prep class on saturday; and all the other things that go into welcoming a newbie into the world. 

as I was folding and organizing clothes last weekend, I looked at some of the newborn onesies and couldn't help but wonder how my baby could possibly fit into them. they appeared remarkably tiny. and with my belly measuring big at each appointment, I can't help but think he's going to be a big newborn, like high seven pounds or low eight. it's exciting to think those details will be revealed very soon.

this weekend is also my stepdaughter's birthday. the big thirteen! we'll celebrate on sunday with her choice of meal and birthday cake. I love when she asks me to make her something, even if it's only once or twice a year. (she chimes in on our christmas tradition food, too.) coming from her it feels a tad more special. 

it's spring, right? 

wishing it was still the weekend.

images courtesy of 1, 2, 3

it was a great weekend. and it started with an evening walk on friday. it was warm and the moon was out and we just walked and walked -- holding hands, my arm through his, a pit stop to watch the last 5 minutes of a disappointing basketball game, and then home, where I found my joonie in the mailbox. yippee! (the warm weather and our casual walk made for a gently romantic evening, and that feeling remained in the air for the rest of the weekend.)

saturday was my baby shower, and it was wonderful. I felt so much love from the women that came -- through their thoughtful and fun gifts, advice, and pleasantries. it was nice to be spoiled and in the spotlight. the fact that the baby shower was for me was a bit of a surreal event, which this entire phase of life has been, and will probably remain until I'm holding #babyboybrooks. even then, I imagine I won't really believe it's true and that he's mine for some time thereafter. 

after my baby shower I met another friend and she continued the stream of great advice. we sat outside a coffee shop and talked and talked. I cannot recall the last time I wanted to be outside and enjoy the warm air as much as I did on saturday. is spring here? my pretty, pedicured feet hope so.

after dropping my stepdaughter off at a friend's house, husband and I relaxed at home until the sun went down on saturday, basking in the delight that enjoying quiet and simple time together brings us.

sunday was also quiet -- some hustle and bustle in the morning to get to church, catching up with friends and acquaintances before and after services, reading, and then naps in the afternoon. my favourite kind of sunday.

now it's monday and I'm feeling the effects of the daylight savings time adjustment. what I would give for an extra day to prolong the glorious weekend.

what was your weekend like? 

a normal weekend ahead.

a weekend to sleep, watch a show, and bake a cake.

images courtesy of 1, 2

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

there's a new monet exhibit opening on saturday at the legion of honor and we might attend. or we might just stay home and tackle the growing pile of laundry and take naps. I love having a weekend with no set plans.

what are you up to? 

weekend: I'm jet-planing back home

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

image courtesy of vogue

my brother and sister-in-law are back from their vacation in hawaii which means it's time for me to hug and kiss my nieces and nephews and return to san francisco -- but first, one more movie and pizza night. 

the parent-child reunion is quite sweet to witness and I'm looking forward to a reunion of my own, with mr. brooks. I've missed him terribly. while I've been away (11 days total) and we've had to rely on phone calls and text for keeping in touch, I've been reminded how funny he is, and that I can fall in love with him again -- anytime, and almost without realizing it. (isn't that delightful?) 

monday is a holiday for me -- mr. brooks has to work -- and I figure I'll spend my time washing baby clothes and picking up stuff from the office that shipped while I was away, like my fawn design backpack. baby still has 2 months before he's due but I figure that time will fly by and I should make the most of my time while I have the time. there still remains much to do, and I'm growing a tad anxious. albeit, if baby showed up tomorrow, we'd be fine to make it work with what we've got. 

happy long weekend to you, lovies,
kcb + baby

weekend: partly sunny with toddlers and little ones

image courtesy of blog.anthropologie

I've traded the rainy san francisco weather for temperatures in the mid-20's, snow, and freezing rain while co-babysitting my 5 nieces and nephews so their parents, my brother and his wife, can have a much-deserved vacation in hawaii (yes, co-babysitting with my mom because it takes more than one to take care of these kiddos). 

we're kicking off the weekend with movie (the incredibles) and pizza night, and a game of fetching socks with the littlest one (he puts a sock in his mouth like a puppy, I snatch and toss it, he retrieves it, returns it to me, and then we do it again; it's quite hilarious). saturday will start with waffles smothered in whipped cream and strawberry  jam and will evolve into a day of playing and baking. if the kids are lucky, perhaps we'll load up the minivan for a daytime adventure to walmart and fill a cart with valentines. 

while I'm away, mr. brooks and suzy are left to take care of each other. it's pretty sweet picturing them hanging out together, watching a show, falling asleep, and chatting. I wonder what they chat about.

happy weekend lovelies.
kcb + baby

in other news, it's the weekend!

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

it's been another full week. thursday felt like friday; wednesday was a late social night (double-date with friends over vietnamese takeout); thursday I wanted to cry after work I was so tired.

luckily, the weekend is now upon us and I can get some rest. tonight we're going out to look at a gliding rocking chair and then home for popcorn and a show, perhaps the crown. tomorrow is a read-a-thon at my stepdaughter's school -- husband and I are judges. after that I'm meeting up with my friend that is pregnant with twins for a late lunch and, from that point on and through sunday, will be downtime for rest, reading, and writing (I'm currently working on a whole version of my miscarriage story to share with publications for [gulp] print -- the story in separate parts 1, 2, 3, and 4).

images courtesy of 1, 2

a few amusing bits from this week:

• my black maternity jeans are ripping in an unfortunate place. so sad! wearing them with tunics and minidresses is the only solution to continuing their life until my due date because there is no sense in buying another pair.
• I signed up for a free trial of diapers from the honest company and they were delivered today. they are newborn size and absolutely adorable. next week my lenny lemons order comes in and I can't wait to see those sweet outfits. truthfully I wasn't going to buy baby brooks any new clothes this early on but I couldn't resist when I saw this onesie, this outfit, and this play suit. cute, right?
• friends are letting us borrow their moses rocking bassinet and it's now in our living room. suzy keeps sniffing and hiding underneath it. I wonder what she'll think when there's a baby in there making sounds she's not accustomed to hearing. I've also started filling my amazon.com cart with motherly things, like nipple cream, a nursing pillow, and our stroller choice. this is getting real.
• a moment ago I typed "pooportunity" in a work email. surely this is a sign of early onset mom brain. and the fact that the trial bunch of diapers are right next to me.

on that note, friends, I'll sign off. best wishes for the weekend ahead!

love,

kcb + baby

back-to-life weekend

image courtesy of gthegent.com

anyone else feeling a tinge of sadness now that the holidays are behind us? even with all the hustle and bustle and cramming and busy-ness and travel, the holiday season is my favourite time of year; and the first week of january is one of the most difficult. it's been a long week, in spite of having monday off, and i'm looking forward to a quiet weekend.

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

it won't be too quiet, though. we're going to keep the purge momentum going by digging deep into the stuff in our storage units -- what can we throw away? what do we keep? going through boxes of stuff from my adolescent life while home on the farm in ohio was one of my jobs and it was a blast. i came across memories so old i didn't even know they existed. 

we're also "moving" into our friends' home in bernal heights to house- and dogsit while she heads out to india for a wedding. her house is spacious, brand new, modern, and clutter-free; her goldendoodle momoe is snuggly and chill and just the kind of dog you want to share a house with. she travels so much for work that i wonder if we moved in permanently if she'd even notice. i mean, we're going to need a bigger place once baby boy comes along and momoe already loves me. 

happy weekend to you and yours, and hopefully we can pull ourselves out of the post-holiday blues.

love truly,
kcb and baby

my miscarriage story, part 4 -- the best news

Dearest friends,

Through the process of sharing my miscarriage story I've heard from many of you -- words of support and empathy -- many of you have experienced a miscarriage of your own. I couldn't respond to each of you but I truly appreciate that you opened up to me, bonding us in womanhood. 

My story concludes below.

The positive pregnancy test in Michigan this past August threw me into a panicked loop. I wasn't ready to be pregnant again only to risk finding out 6 weeks later there was no baby. There's no way I was emotionally stable enough to handle that. Tears fell the rest of the family vacation and I confided in my brother (I needed to talk to someone other than my husband). He let me cry through my fears -- the obvious fear being this another failed pregnancy (it had already failed in my mind) -- then calmly and lovingly advised that I not take counsel from my doubts. He knew I was swimming in doubt and, in that moment, they were crippling me. I told him if this pregnancy didn't go full term, I'd be done. He looked at me, hugged me tightly, and told me he loved me.

Once we were home in San Francisco, I scheduled my prenatal appointment. Anxious and numb, I sat in the observation room with my husband -- a scene too familiar and cold, a room of bad news. But, unlike the two times before, we left the hospital with good news, the best news: at this point in my pregnancy, albeit early, baby was where he was supposed to be and all looked good.

Hooray!

Hurrah!

Yippee!

images courtesy of the animal print shop blog

I proceeded with an emotional seatbelt, sharing the good news with only a few people (I wasn't yet out of the miscarriage woods -- the risk of miscarriage dwindles less and less with each week -- and purposefully limited who I told). As the weeks passed, the expected pregnancy symptoms came and went -- miserable morning sickness, aching fatigue, confusing body changes -- and with each my doctor applauded.

And then the most amazing thing happened: at my 10-week appointment, I heard baby's heartbeat. My baby's heartbeat. The baby inside me -- he was growing and healthy and his heart was beating, steady and strong. I cried, and giggled in disbelief, and grabbed my husband's hand. Hearing the rhythm of baby's heartbeat confirmed to me this was real, that baby was there, and it was ok to get excited now. 

Now I'm 20 weeks (halfway to full term), I'm showing beyond being able to hide baby Brooks, and I'm thrilled. And it feels so good -- having the personal allowance to be excited about baby. We're shopping for car seats and strollers and a rocking chair, and gladly accepting newborn onesies from baby's cousins. I'm building my baby library and reading to him -- The Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen -- and trying on babybjorns. I come across cute baby stuff, like this snuggly elephant, and picture him tucked away during a nap.

Being pregnant is hard, but when I hear his heartbeat or feel him moving, the hard stuff disappears from memory and is immediately replaced with a swelling of joy and being totally worth it. 

I'm going to be a mom. (!)

Yours truly, with hugs and love,

Katie

part 1  |  part 2  |  part 3  |  part 4

my miscarriage story, part 3 -- I wasn't broken

The pregnancy test read positive in mid-January. Two pregnancy tests, to be sure. It was a surprise; I didn't expect to get pregnant again so soon. According to my doctor, my body wouldn't be ready until at least one full menstrual cycle, and up until then, it can take some time for the body to reestablish the pattern. I'd had some spotting and even a span of days of flow-like spotting but it certainly didn't resemble what my cycle had been like before. So to have a pregnancy test come back positive surprised me.

Excitedly, I made my prenatal appointment and marked the calendar. I remember feelings of anxiety but forcing them into the tiny box of doubt in the back of my mind. This time was going to be different, I told myself. Many women have had a miscarriage and then gone on to have successful pregnancies. I now fall into that category. 

image courtesy of irving penn

With my husband at my side, we sat in the observation room. The room of bad news and gloom. The room of tears and hurt and pain and questions. Not this time! This time was going to be different.

We waited and waited. Awkward small talk. Silence. More awkward small talk. Neither of us dared approach the elephant in the room. The "what if it's another miscarriage?" elephant. 

Finally, the nurse practitioner came in and we chatted about my history before the vaginal ultrasound. "You might feel some pressure," she said. The gel on the instrument was cool and then bam -- my uterus was on the monitor. I recognized the growth sac and understood the nurse was trying to measure it. What I didn't understand was the look, a muscled poker face, absent of hope and excitement, on her face. And then I understood. 

There was no baby. Again. 

"It's like deja vu," my husband whispered, holding my hand tight. Tears welled up in my eyes. I held them back as long as I could but finally, they fell down my cheeks, uncontrollably. 

The nurse tried to explain and talk through the next steps but I barked, "Can I just get dressed? I need to get out of here." I needed air -- the room was suffocating. I needed to cry, to let the tears rush. And until I was safe at home I wouldn't be able to.

I didn't wait long to put the physical aspect of the miscarriage into action, but it seemed holidays would now be scarred. My first miscarriage was on Labour Day; this miscarriage would be on Valentine's Day (are you kidding me?). While we typically don't celebrate Valentine's Day in a big way -- my favourite memory was heading up to Fairfax, having dinner at a dive-y diner, and then Robocop at the theatre; the best part was I fell asleep halfway through -- it was still Valentine's Day, and would now have a giant blemish. Determined to go down in style, we made a reservation at Cafe Claude, our favourite French restaurant, and dressed up. I wore a sweet LBT and the pearls my husband bought me our first Christmas as a couple. ("A girl like you should have pearls," he said.) The miscarriage was off limits -- no talking or discussing it -- during dinner; it would still be there tomorrow.

Tomorrow came -- Valentine's Day 2016 -- my second miscarriage -- in 6 months. 

Physically, the pain and experience were the same. And I'm really glad I had the foresight to take notes during my first miscarriage; comparing notes was helpful. The biggest physical difference was my body. I looked different. I felt different. Even though I was pregnant for only a short time, my body had changed. And I could feel it. And see it. Every day it was a glaring reminder that this pregnancy wasn't meant to be.

The emotional impact was far different. I went to a very dark place. A darker place than I'd ever been before. Long texts of despair went out to a few people very dear to me; people that I could count on to hear me out and not try to sugarcoat what I was experiencing. 

My faith and relationship with Heavenly Father got a real shake-up; something I was not prepared for. Families and their importance are a big part of my faith and every Sunday it seemed someone was drilling that message home. I couldn't take it. I'd sit in church alone and depressed, quietly crying my way through the meeting, my mind full of questions, wondering if God was punishing me for a bad decision, wondering what the point of my existence was if I couldn't bear children. I had always wanted to be a mom and with these last two chances slipping out of reach I was scared. I was getting older and having a successful pregnancy would continue to prove more difficult. And here I was in a Latter-Day Saint congregation surrounded by young, beautiful pregnant women; women who already had a baby or two. What was so different about them? Why did they get children and I didn't?

Questions like that spiraled out of control and pulled me to a deep and dark place where I remained for months until finally I emailed my doctor for help. I could no longer handle this pain on my own -- it wasn't working. My relationship with my husband was at odds all the time (he didn't understand what I was going through) and the tension in our apartment, because of my emotional misery, was obvious and uncomfortable; home was no longer a safe place.

Meeting with a therapist was the best thing for me. The woman was kind, thoughtful, unbiased, and sincere. And after a couple tearful visits, she offered the most important advice that stuck with me: I wasn't broken. I felt broken because I felt different than before -- but I wasn't. I was hurting and in pain, and she reassured me of my allowance to experience these normal feelings. She also encouraged me to be patient with myself; to allow myself to feel the pain and darkness. Feeling all of this didn't mean I was broken. I needed to hear that. And I needed to hear that from someone who didn't know me, didn't have my history biasing what she said. 

After that session, I finally felt the curtain of darkness begin to lift from my soul. I was able to get on with my life -- I started exercising again, baking and cooking, enjoying my husband, and reestablishing my faith. Let me say, that while the pain was diminished, it wasn't completely absent. I'd still tear up at church, talking to friends and family about my experience, thinking about the future, and even for no apparent reason. 

A couple weeks passed and I found myself sitting on the edge of the dock at my family's Michigan lakehouse in sheer panic: another positive pregnancy test.

part 1  |  part 2  |  part 3  |  part 4

it's a christmas weekend!

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

it's a weekend of making homemade sausage, baking pumpkin bread, watching college football, apartment-hunting, christmas shopping and decorating, and debating on buying this coat to wrap and put under the tree for myself. 

i love christmas, and all the happy hustle and bustle that goes with it. do you? and can you believe it's only four sundays away? it'll be christmas morning before we know it.


love truly,
kcb

my miscarriage story, part 2 -- I was emotionally raw...

Carrying on in my story, I'd like to share a little bit more about my actual miscarriage -- the process, the hurt, the physical pain, the emotional toil. Miscarriages aren't openly spoken about and they should be, as a sense of education and sisterhood, if nothing else. This is my entry into the library of miscarriage articles -- my story -- to anyone that may need to read it.

For any woman that has gone through or is going through a miscarriage, the one thing I can assure you is no matter how alone you may feel, you are not alone. We may not be beside you during your time of agony, but we are out there; we have experienced the same hurts; we are with you.

images courtesy of 1, 2

The day I went in for my first prenatal appointment, I could feel that something was different about me, even at just week five. I felt empty and normal, compared to the sense of life within me only a couple days before. Lying on the table in the observation room with the ultrasound equipment to one side, my feet in the stirrups and my doctor staring at the screen trying to keep her poker face, I already knew what she was going to say.

There was no baby.

I was both stunned and not surprised. As a sign of hope, my doctor suggested I return in a week to see if the tiny embryo was growing, which should show a sign of life. But according to my conception date -- which was more of a guess than a true date -- the embryo wasn't as big as it should be. I was confident the embryo wouldn't change, I could feel it deep within me. But I returned and when I did, my doctor started to discuss my options for the miscarriage: I could have a procedure called a dilation and curettage, often referred to as a d&c -- no thanks; or I could take a couple pills and allow the miscarriage to happen more organically. I chose the organic way. But even then my doctor said the miscarriage might happen by itself if I gave my body the time so I did. During a work trip the next weekend, I noticed some spotting and spilled out a small blood clot. Being new to the mysteries of pregnancy and miscarriages, I thought that was it. 

I was wrong. Terribly wrong. 

At the urging of my doctor, my husband and I set my miscarriage date for the following Saturday, which happened to be Labour Day 2015.

That Saturday morning started like most any other Saturday -- my husband and I went for a jog along East Beach and then we had brunch, figuring I shouldn't embark on this journey with an empty stomach. Shortly after arriving home, I inserted the two pills, one in each cheek, where they were to dissolve after 30 minutes, and they did, leaving a chalky layer behind. I swallowed the chalky bits and went to the bathroom -- I could feel the cramps beginning (much like menstrual cramps) -- and noticed blood in the water. 

In spite of the cramps and bleeding, I felt fine. But then my body starting revolting the embryo remains inside me -- my cramps worsened and I started vomiting. (I kept large mixing bowls by my bed in case I couldn't make it to the bathroom in time.) Sitting on the toilet, I could feel the blood clots slipping out of my body and before flushing I'd stare into the bowl -- amazed at the depth of its red colour -- and watch the clots sink. (I know that's gross, but I had to do it, for my own education. I had to see what was coming out of my body.)

The cramps and bleeding continued through the rest of the day. I was changing maxi pads (no tampons allowed) every hour as blood clots of all sizes continued to drop among menstrual-like bleeding. Twenty-four hours later, I was still curled up in bed, uncomfortable, lonely, and emotional with no sense of comfort except from Suzy snuggled on the corner of my bed, barely within reach. Nothing my husband said or did brought any comfort. Texts from my mom and dad went unread and upset me. 

It wasn't until 16 days later that the bleeding and cramps fully subsided. But the emotional pain stayed with me for months, and still creeps in from time to time. 

I was emotionally raw for some time thereafter -- numb, almost unable to feel, and, honestly, wanting to stay miserable. No one understood what I was experiencing -- not even me. I was confused and sad and missing a part of me -- a part of me that [I thought] was a big piece of my life plan. 

Opportunities to heal and be with family were right around the corner -- our wedding anniversary and Thanksgiving. Our anniversary was a weekend getaway to Las Vegas to see Elton John (check that off the bucket list) and explore the strip (my husband had never been). We walked and walked and ate as much as we could stuff in our bodies. Most importantly, we slept. The toll of my miscarriage was evident in both of us and an actual change of scenery was just what we needed to reconnect. 

Thanksgiving --  my favourite holiday; time to spend with family and eat and eat and eat, and watch football, and live in loungewear -- was soon upon us sending us to Portland -- road trip! I reveled in the company of my nieces and nephews and found relief from my troubles by focusing on them -- reading story after story, colouring, dancing and jumping around, and snuggling during movies. My sister-in-law and my cousin's wife were all ears and hugs as they tried to console my pain while we cooked and baked. Honestly, talking about my miscarriage with someone other than my husband helped a lot (one can only burden one's spouse so much), and reminded me it wasn't my fault.

And then it was Christmas and the new year (2016) and a positive pregnancy test.

part 1  |  part 2  |  part 3  |  part 4

dear weekend--

courtesy of the madewell blog

dear weekend,

are you there? it's me, Katie. 

and I just wanted to make sure you'll be coming around this weekend because I really need you. it's been an emotional week and I'm tired. can we snuggle up with snacks and doze in and out of football games? will you deliver a sofa for my husband to nap on and make me a batch of chocolate chip cookies?

weekend, you're important to me. hope to see you soon.

love,
Katie

the weekend is coming--

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

the blessed weekend. 
a time to get chores done. 
a time to relax. 
time for football or pumpkin patches. 
halloween costume assembly and decorating. 
time to bake and cook.
time to call family.
time to write.
time to nap.

I don't know that we'll get to a pumpkin patch this year but pretty much everything else on the list above will make up our weekend. 

happy times, lovies,
KCB

images courtesy of (2 on the left) thatkindofwoman.tumblr.com and (1 on the right) cupofjo.com

rainy weekend ahead.

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

Friday and rain?! Total joy. 

Good news to share: After almost 4 months of living in a hotel after our apartment suffered water damage from an upstairs pipe breaking, we've moved back home. When we opened the storage unit yesterday for the first time since packing it, I was shamelessly happy to see all of my stuff -- my clothes and shoes, my bird print and white cabinet. It was all still there, just where we'd left it. And now it was coming home with me. 

And so that will be our weekend -- unpacking and arranging the apartment, all-the-while kale soup will be simmering on the stovetop and college football will be on the television keeping us company all day. I also plan on making some banana bread if I can find bananas ripe enough. If not, I may end up making pumpkin bread -- oh shucks.  

The arranging part I'm especially excited for because when I moved in, I moved in around my husband's things. Now it's like a clean slate and we can arrange the apartment together. Weeeeeeee!

Anyone going to a pumpkin patch or carving pumpkins? Tell me every last detail. 

Hooray for my favourite time of year when the best apples are in season, college football is on television for 12+ hours, and the kitchen is my favourite room.

Love,
KCB

my miscarriage story, part 1 -- an intro

To my dear friends and anyone still hanging on to this blog thread, 

It's been months since I've last written, but not as long as I thought. I imagined at least a year having passed since my last post but it's only been about four months. Not too bad, but far longer than I'd like. I still have hopes and dreams of re-launching this blog into a sense of regularity, resurrecting the pretty picture collages and day themes. I make no promise of such an effort -- I will write when I have the creative brain power and time. 

Now seems to be one of those times.

images courtesy of thatkindofwoman.tumblr.com

A lot has been on my mind as the year has folded into autumn, my favourite season for every comfy reason -- fruity pies, football all Saturday long, coats and sweaters, pots of soups and chili simmering on the stovetop. I often find myself contemplative this time of year. I'm not sure why but perhaps it has something to do with my birthday in August and my wedding anniversary in October -- two large life events. 

My birthday is no longer just my birthday -- it is the anniversary of my first miscarriage -- forever changed. In the fall of last year, I curled up into healing position, leaning on family and friends to help me through the hard time. I was in a job I didn't like, surrounded by people I didn't connect with, a long commute, and a body I couldn't whip back into shape. 

As time passed, I settled into a routine of denial -- faking my life as I knew it, and eventually I had events to look forward to -- Thanksgiving and Christmas were right around the corner, and I loved both holidays immensely. Both were jampacked with traditions I treasured that we had created as a family. As we moved through Thanksgiving and then Christmas, I felt all was well and couldn't foresee the depression that was looming ahead, ready to bulldoze my denial and send me down a rabbit hole. 

Because, you see, I was pregnant again. 

But this baby was also not meant to be, and my miscarriage was set for Valentine's Day. The night before was a Friday, so my husband and I dressed up and lived up the night at our favourite French restaurant, Cafe Claude. We looked dashing together and he kept reminding me how pretty I looked that night. The following day I buckled in pain -- the agony familiar from the first time. 

Healing took longer and required more help. I couldn't brush it aside by sleeping it off or faking happiness; I just didn't have it inside of me. All my happiness was gone, swept from me without consent. I lashed out at my family and pulled away from my God and faith, angry at their promises instead of hopeful. My eyes flooded with tears at the slightest mention of family or when someone showed sincere love toward me or even just random moments. I'd find myself dashing to the bathroom to hide from my coworkers so I wouldn't have to explain. 

I could no longer burden my family and friends, especially my husband, with my sadness so I turned to a therapist. And that started to help.

It helped but it still took time, which was the most valuable lesson my therapist taught me. Patience with myself during this painful time was what I needed more than anything. Patience to let myself feel what I needed to feel. Patience to let myself cry. Patience with my body as the reminders of the pregnancy started to fade. Patience. 

Finally hope and faith were restored, and even happiness. My life has been forever changed -- I'm not the person I was before those two pregnancies. My naivete has been washed away by life experience, and my emotions are now ever-present at the surface, ready to flood down my cheeks. 

Yet, life improvements continue. I found a new job, with people I related to better. I signed up for bar method classes and quickly fell in love with the routine and community of women. I finished my copy editing course and started reading. I started talking and sharing my story with women around me, finding a similar story in a woman who has now become a friend and confidante. 

And here I am now. The depression and denial are in my past; we're about to move back into our apartment which has been remodeled/updated since a pipe burst mid-June; and I'm enjoying the last bites of the first pot of chili this season -- many more to follow. 

Life and me -- we're doing pretty okay. 


Yours truly, and until we meet again,
KCB

part 1  |  part 2  |  part 3  |  part 4

a weekend of the arts.

this past weekend gave me everything i needed, and it was exceptional.

time to myself

• i visited the oscar de la renta exhibit at the de young museum solo. it was also my first time at the museum and while i only bought a pass for the retrospective exhibit, i perused the museum bookstore and came away with the battle of versailles to add to my ever-growing bedside table stack of memoirs. there is something magical that i can only find at museums -- the awe of being in the presence of something that was created by someone with such a magnanimous reputation within the art society. incredible. 
• monday morning, before hustling off to the sfmoma for its opening post-renovation, i whipped up two almond cakes and homemade whipped cream -- such goodness! one cake was orange and blood orange and the second was raspberry lemon. tasty. 
• the sfmoma had been under construction for renovations for the past handful of years. as part of birthday celebrations, we gathered some friends together and explored the extensive space. with my husband being the host, and realizing there was no way we could all stick together, we split off into pairs and singles. i again took the solo route and perused at my own pace, reading as many of the info cards as possible and stopping at every piece of art -- i wanted to make the most of my visit and my alone time. during the 3.5 hours, i covered floors six and seven and part of five. some of the art i just didn't get -- which i suppose is part of its success is if it bewilders or shocks or confuses its viewer -- and other pieces i could have stared at all day or imagined them in my someday home. i can't wait to return and see the floors i missed. 
• after what has felt like a drag, i was finally able to turn some pages in the boys in the boat. it's now a book i'm looking forward to reading. and when i needed a break, i turned on the second season of the netflix original documentary series the chef's table -- hearing from the chef's themselves as they talk about their culinary vision. superb stuff.

time with family and friends

• the weekend of culture and the arts kicked off with the above and beyond acoustic concert at the greek theatre in berkeley. it was a lovely evening for an outdoor concert and the music soared above my expectations. 
• sunday we had a nice and quiet time at home. we had a spicy roast, salad, and potatoes while watching africa and then naps. 
• monday, after adventuring through the sfmoma, we made our way back to our neighbourhood for a friends dinner at helmand palace. we caught up with friends we hadn't seen in ages, toyed with the only toddler at the table, and filled our bellies full of delicious afghan food. the after party moved to our apartment for the final half of the warriors game against the oklahoma city thunder and almond cake. 

pictures my own taken of art pieces at the sfmoma; other pictures of the weekend's events on my instagram

weekend busy times.

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

it's a full weekend, and, admittedly, i'm tired thinking about it. already. alas, the holidays are here and there is much to do!

after work tonight, mr. brooks and i are meeting up with our friends miki and jackson for dinner at our new favourite burrito spot, toma, in the marina. they do the most amazing burritos with poblano peppers, and they have the best guacamole. yum, can't wait!

saturday is fully booked. the day starts by meeting up at the church to do a quick clean, then i'll be off to burn class. after i've showered, i'm hoping to jet off to the everlane gift event before returning to the church for choir practice. (nine of us are singing wexford carol on sunday during the christmas cantata.) then, what i'm most excited about is spending some time in the ahv closet, which i imagine might become my new happy place -- vintage dresses galore! (i'm searching for one for the upcoming cisco meraki holiday party.)  i plan on trying on as many dresses as possible and when my fingers are blistered from pulling zippers and buttons, i will head home and get ready for the glen phillips concert with mr. brooks. (yeah, glen phillips of toad the wet sprocket.)

sunday, after singing in the christmas cantata, i hope to have a pretty solid nap. i'd like to bake, maybe some cranberry bread or yulekake, or cover christmas cutout cookies in shiny sprinkles. 

surprise surprise -- after writing it all out, i'm actually getting excited for the weekend! 

what are you lovies up to? anybody shoveling out of snowdrifts yet? 

love truly,
kcb

image courtesy of theglitterguide.tumblr.com

the weekend is here!

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

hard to believe last friday was the day after thanksgiving (my cousin's wife and i sweated it out in a barre3 class; bye bye pumpkin pie). and now christmas is three fridays away. whoa. good thing christmas packages are arriving in the mail and we bought our potted christmas tree last night (a fluffy monterey pine; it's beautiful). christmas will be here before we know it.

how many of you are doing christmas stuff this weekend? we're hitting up target for supplies and then a warehouse sale in the dogpatch, less christmas-related and more for me so i can see and try on a pair of bryr clogs. (i want a pair desperately!) we'll spend sunday decorating the tree. yay! the potted tree is smaller than the fake one we usually put up, so it's likely we won't be able to use all of our decorations. regardless, i'm excited. i told mr. brooks i wanted to put the tree up earlier this year so it felt like christmas for a longer period of time. he agreed. 

other than that, i intend on resting a lot. i'm reading a couple books and finally have some writing ideas turning over in my head (one is started already; it needs flushed out and edited). speaking of writing, did you see this post about sunday dinner with our chic neighbours? funny horror story: during a brief email exchange with said neighbours, one of them noticed my blog link in my gmail signature, clicked it, and reported back that she thought the post about them on my blog was especially nice. i was mortified so i quickly pulled up the post and read it. luckily, it was a gushing stream of how amazing i thought they were. but that was also slightly mortifying.

and on that note, i'll sign off 'til next time. maybe i'll get some writing done in my restful downtime this weekend. (how i wish i could steal away to coffee bar for a couple days and just write.) 

happy holiday time, lovies!
kcb

image courtesy of thatkindofwoman.tumblr.blog

p.s. think about this: if you had an extra day in your weekend every weekend, what would you do with it?

weekend: looks like we made it!

barry manilow said it the best -- "looks like we made it" -- and that's how i'm feeling about today as we launch into the weekend. 

hooray!
hurrah!
yippee!

it feels like months since i wrote, and it probably has been. i'm not a fan of the word "busy" but that's what i've been -- busy with school, work, and home -- every facet of my world. lately i've had some rare extra time that's allowed for creative ideas to poke through -- ideas to write and return to my corner of the web here on so many pretty things. 

i've been through a bit these last few months, some details i'm not quite ready to share but will at some point -- writing is a balm for my soul. that aside, right now i'm focusing on what's ahead and that's thanksgiving, prefaced by a giant roadtrip -- 10 hours giant. weeeeeeeee! i've been listening to a lot of stevie nicks to get in the roadtrip-driving mood. this weekend we're preparing the car, getting the house (and me!) in shape, packing, and filling the suzy bank with extra snuggle and nap time. 

it'll be a wonderful thanksgiving. it's my favourite holiday and this year i get to meet my brand new nephew, grant. as is standard of my thanksgiving holidays, i'll be running around and having sleepovers and reading books to my nieces and nephews -- burning off all that wonderful traditional food, including my family-famous stuffing.

what are your thanksgiving holiday plans? are you a black friday shopper? do you celebrate the holiday in a traditional way? are you hosting a friendsgiving? tell me what you're up to; i'd love to hear. 

love truly,
kcb

image courtesy of cupofjo