Friday, March 07, 2014


March 7, 2000 was the day of nothingness.  There really is no other word to describe the feeling.  It would be my second full day in the hospital.  It was a day of waiting.  People were celebrating Mardi Gras.  Eric never left my side. 

From what I can recall, I had visitors: my mom and dad, my grandma and my friend Terry.  The only image that erases the fraught look Terry had visiting me that day is the look on her face when she held Alison for the first time seventeen months later.

My grandmother sat quietly in the chair near my window.  She was resigned to my fate.  I probably was too.  There were so many mixed emotions.  While I prayed for a miracle, I also prayed for this trauma to be over.  I could not foresee what tumult the next day would bring for me, Eric and our marriage.

This day of nothingness also brought a Rabbi, upon my request, to my side.  I wish today I could recall his words and I'm sure somewhere else I've written about them.  They will probably come back to me when I least expect them to.

Some days are harder than others.

Tuesday, March 04, 2014

March 4, 2000 My last, best day

Fourteen years ago was my last, best day.  I don't mean I haven't had best days since, I certainly have.  The live births of my two children Alison and Adam were the miracles that brought me back to life.

But fourteen years ago today, Eric and I went to lunch to celebrate my grandmother's birthday. We went to Patrick's Pub on Northern Boulevard in Little Neck, NY.  I had quiche.  I was very cranky that day.  Could something deep down in my psyche known how my life would begin to unravel the very next day?

Fourteen years ago today was the last day I would have ever not worry incessantly about what could happen in life.  And while the worry doesn't stop me from living my life, it is always present right below the surface of my mind.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

October 15: National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remebrance Day

Feeling it today.  Actually was feeling it the other day.  We're invited to a friend's son's Bar Mitzvah next month.  Another friend had her son's bar mitzvah a few months ago.  This was supposed to be the year of Solomon's bar mitzvah, he was supposed to be friends with these two boys.  According to Eric, he is an angel on their shoulders.  Very surprised Eric would say something like this - I hope it's true.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Superstorm Sandy

It is seven months since Superstorm Sandy hit Long Island.  Our house suffered little bits of damage but nothing compared to our friends and neighbors around the block and in our town, some of whom are still not domiciled in their beloved homes.

For the first two days without electricity, it was an adventure.  Eric and I travelled carefully around town, kids in tow, checking on friends and helping where we could.  The devastation was overwhelming and I began to grow very afraid.

By the fifth day, all of our food was gone - a complete freezer full and a complete refrigerator full.  Our town warnings were to have candles, water, food, matches and other items to get through a day or so.  They did not warn of the possibility of an almost two-week stint without electricity.

When Eric needed to check on clients, he left me and the two kids in our back room. He lit a fire and I sat in front of the fire feeding it wood and twigs and when it was low old newspapers.  One such afternoon I called our town's Office of Emergency Management.  When I asked the very young employee if he had any ideas about progress and when the power would be restored his reply was "turn on the TV for the updates."  I had heard some really stupid things before but this one is in my top three.

While driving on a major road in our town I leaned out the window and let loose with a cohort of expletives that even shocked my husband.  But the cars crossing our road still would not stop, and they barely slowed.  I thought we would all die.

Over the next 13 days we managed to feed the kids, keep them sheltered, keep ourselves sheltered, and check on friends.  We attended a rally with our friends and neighbors, and continued to be perplexed by the delays restoring power.

For 13 days I reminded myself again and again, "this is not the worst thing to happen, it could be worse."  I am not sure if I am lucky to have lost Solomon.  That loss kept this crisis in check.

Return to Zero film

Break the Silence! Pledge to See RETURN TO ZERO in theaters!

RETURN TO ZERO is the first film ever created with stillbirth as its central theme. We have an amazing cast (MINNIE DRIVER, PAUL ADELSTEIN, ALFRED MOLINA, CONNIE NIELSEN KATHY BAKER, ANDREA ANDERS and SARAH JONES) and have created a beautiful and touching film that will change how people view stillbirth and the effect it has on parents, relationships, families, and communities.

Now we need this film to reach the largest audience possible--which is why we need your help!

By PLEDGING to see RETURN TO ZERO in theaters opening weekend when it shows in your community you will prove to Hollywood that that there is an audience for a film about this difficult but important subject matter.

We can do this--but only if we work together. Let's finally SHATTER THE SILENCE ONCE AND FOR ALL! PLEDGE BELOW!

Friday, October 26, 2012


There ought to be a warning on all movices or TV programs where a baby dies or a woman miscarries or delivers a stillborn. Eric and I watched the movie "Perfect Family" with Kathleen Turner and her daughter is pregnant and loses the baby midway through.

And let's not mention every other drama on TV - it's enough.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Graduation Day

So many of my friends children are graduating 6th grade today. I am missing Solomon so much. Every time I see someone's post on Facebook, and there are tons as I was pregnant with so many other gals, tears well up in my eyes.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Waiting for Baby

Waiting for baby, 8 months along - with a mystery baby who would be born not too long afterwards.

Surprising Moment

So I am gainfully employed for a bit, part-time and temporary through mid-August. I like my work, the environment, my co-workers and especially my supervisor whom I call "boss lady." This woman really could have been a grief counselor as she is a really great teacher, patient and calm, and an overall wonderful person.

I am at work and reviewing some forms...hey it's not too exciting but it's my job. And I see the name of a child. This child is a girl, this child is in 6th grade in our school District and I know this child's mom from my former life - the one 'before' - the one where I also worked but the one where people knew me 'before' I lost Solomon.

As soon as I see this child's name my heart skips a beat. I remember when this child was born, a few weeks after Solomon. I remember thinking how this child and Solomon would be in school together because this child's mom was one of the many whom I knew was pregnant with me. Then the obvious comes to the surface, no, Solomon will never be in school.

I had to stop what I was doing and just remind myself to breath. It was harder than I thought but I managed to get through the moment. But still I just wish sometimes there weren't moments I had to get through in the first place. You know?