Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Now They Are Both Curious
I don't know how it came up but now they are both curious. Alison must have said something to Adam. The other night she asked me again the name of the baby who died, and Adam asked what baby? Without going through the gory details I told them as calmly as I could the baby's heart didn't work and he died in my tummy. I feel I am usually good with words and I have been preparing and planning for this for years and now that it's here, I am just at a loss. Again.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
A Passing Nightmare
I am home now almost 24 hours after a passing nightmare. Adam has been sick since October 13 and while the initial ailment resolved fairly quickly, a secondary one set in. We went from "check in in the morning if he is still running a fever" to "I have to send you to the ER at the hospital."
Losing Solomon was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. But lying in the hospital chair-bed, next to Adam's silently dripping IV, I realized it could not have been. Solomon's loss was losing a dream, but the reality that I was here with a sick kid was a living nightmare. The panic took root in my bones, and while we are out of the woods now, my body has not relaxed.
Luckily, whatever was ailing Adam has seemed to pass. He has been fever-free for 72 hours. He is so drugged up for a broad range of possible illness that I know all the bad germs are almost gone. He is eating his restricted diet and will return to school Monday [god willing] on restricted activities.
But he is fine, and he is home.
Losing Solomon was the hardest thing I ever had to go through. But lying in the hospital chair-bed, next to Adam's silently dripping IV, I realized it could not have been. Solomon's loss was losing a dream, but the reality that I was here with a sick kid was a living nightmare. The panic took root in my bones, and while we are out of the woods now, my body has not relaxed.
Luckily, whatever was ailing Adam has seemed to pass. He has been fever-free for 72 hours. He is so drugged up for a broad range of possible illness that I know all the bad germs are almost gone. He is eating his restricted diet and will return to school Monday [god willing] on restricted activities.
But he is fine, and he is home.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Questions
I woke up last Saturday morning with an inkling that this might be the day, the day when Alison or Adam has questions. I mentioned this to Eric who replied, "You say that every year." And that is true. But this year I was right.
Alison accompanied me on this years Walk To Remember - chosing this activity over watching her brother play soccer, or should I say run around the soccer field with a group of 5 year old boys with a soccer ball in the midst.
The walk was proceding and it was a good half hour before Ali said anything. She asked if we could see our page. I knew she meant the scrapbook page I had done for Solomon, so we walked over to it and I showed her. Then she asked if we could see our quilt square. So I walked her over to where the quilt was displayed and showed her. Her first reaction was to ask, "Who was born on March 8?" I told her, "the baby." She asked, naturally, "What baby?" and I told her, "the baby who died in my tummy before you were born." She seemed to take my remarks in and felt satisfied. Until...
Until my friend's daughter asked her, "Was the baby who died a girl or a boy?" And Alison in her sweet voice replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about." So I told her the baby was a boy and his name was Solomon, Solomon was the baby who died in my tummy before you were born. Again she took in my remarks and seemed satisfied.
I have no idea what she thinks. She knows a photo of our family adorns a book cover but I don't think she understands why or what the book is about.
I wonder if I handled her questions ok, and appreciate that she didn't ask more than I was willing to answer. For my children, life's questions will forever go beyond "where do babies come from?"
Alison accompanied me on this years Walk To Remember - chosing this activity over watching her brother play soccer, or should I say run around the soccer field with a group of 5 year old boys with a soccer ball in the midst.
The walk was proceding and it was a good half hour before Ali said anything. She asked if we could see our page. I knew she meant the scrapbook page I had done for Solomon, so we walked over to it and I showed her. Then she asked if we could see our quilt square. So I walked her over to where the quilt was displayed and showed her. Her first reaction was to ask, "Who was born on March 8?" I told her, "the baby." She asked, naturally, "What baby?" and I told her, "the baby who died in my tummy before you were born." She seemed to take my remarks in and felt satisfied. Until...
Until my friend's daughter asked her, "Was the baby who died a girl or a boy?" And Alison in her sweet voice replied, "I have no idea what you're talking about." So I told her the baby was a boy and his name was Solomon, Solomon was the baby who died in my tummy before you were born. Again she took in my remarks and seemed satisfied.
I have no idea what she thinks. She knows a photo of our family adorns a book cover but I don't think she understands why or what the book is about.
I wonder if I handled her questions ok, and appreciate that she didn't ask more than I was willing to answer. For my children, life's questions will forever go beyond "where do babies come from?"
Friday, September 05, 2008
School Year
I just got off the telephone with Patty, Patty who understands.
I am missing my children something awful.
When pregnant with Alison, I didn't believe I was having a baby. I felt if I ever got to give birth, it would be to nothingness. When I was pregnant with Adam, I swore until the moment of delivery I would have another daughter, a sister for Alison, named Julia Elizabeth. When my doctor pronounced, "It's A Boy," all I could think was "how could my daughter have a penis?" Perhaps it was the drugs from the c-section, but the thought rolled around in my head for weeks afterwards.
I find myself calm at this moment, after being in tears just a short while ago. I felt weepy for Solomon on the first day of school - he would have been a third-grader like so many of my friends' kids. But now, with both Alison and Adam in school, I feel a different kind of loss, one that is much harder to describe to someone who isn't like me. So I called who I knew would help.
And she did.
I am missing my children something awful.
When pregnant with Alison, I didn't believe I was having a baby. I felt if I ever got to give birth, it would be to nothingness. When I was pregnant with Adam, I swore until the moment of delivery I would have another daughter, a sister for Alison, named Julia Elizabeth. When my doctor pronounced, "It's A Boy," all I could think was "how could my daughter have a penis?" Perhaps it was the drugs from the c-section, but the thought rolled around in my head for weeks afterwards.
I find myself calm at this moment, after being in tears just a short while ago. I felt weepy for Solomon on the first day of school - he would have been a third-grader like so many of my friends' kids. But now, with both Alison and Adam in school, I feel a different kind of loss, one that is much harder to describe to someone who isn't like me. So I called who I knew would help.
And she did.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
The Day Before
I remember this day, August 13, 2001, quite clearly. Actually, the evening.
I had a routine OB appointment. I was humongous, strapped to the monitor. I looked like a whale. Eric took a photo for posterity. We had just received our first digital camera and this was the test shot.
Dr. E. proceeded to tell me everything was fine. Yes, everything pregnancy-wise was. But I was a nervous wreck. I had spent the prior 37 weeks and 6 days alternating between fear of never having a living child and denial that I was even pregnant.
I asked Dr. E. about an early delivery. The thought of two more weeks felt like two more years. He uttered magic words, "if you wake up tomorrow and you feel the baby is moving less, call the office and we will get you delivered."
That's all it took. And my journey of grief was ending.
I had a routine OB appointment. I was humongous, strapped to the monitor. I looked like a whale. Eric took a photo for posterity. We had just received our first digital camera and this was the test shot.
Dr. E. proceeded to tell me everything was fine. Yes, everything pregnancy-wise was. But I was a nervous wreck. I had spent the prior 37 weeks and 6 days alternating between fear of never having a living child and denial that I was even pregnant.
I asked Dr. E. about an early delivery. The thought of two more weeks felt like two more years. He uttered magic words, "if you wake up tomorrow and you feel the baby is moving less, call the office and we will get you delivered."
That's all it took. And my journey of grief was ending.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
PLEASE SIGN THE PETITION
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/ny-stillbirth-bill
Please sign the petition - we are working frantically to get the Certificate of Birth Resulting in Stillbirth Law passed in NYS.
Please sign the petition - we are working frantically to get the Certificate of Birth Resulting in Stillbirth Law passed in NYS.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Today
Solomon, I miss you today. Not that I don't miss you everyday, I do. Just today is your big brother Alex's bar mitzvah and I wish you were here with us to celebrate. He wanted to meet you so much and was so brave.
Monday, March 10, 2008
8
I did not think last week would ever end. Tuesday started with what would have been my grandmother's 90th birthday. I had been mentally planning her party since her 89th birthday.
Saturday was 8 years. 8 years. I cannot believe it. And I had to get through the day without my grandmother. Eric sent Adam over to me to tell me Solomon loves me. Hearing his name come out of Adam's mouth was shocking, but brought me to a moments reality during a very cloudy morning.
I was cold all day and tried to avoid writing the date. Stupid me had to write 3 checks and in the moment I wrote it 3/8/08 but wouldn't record it in the checkbook.
I feel guilty that I did not look at Solomon's photos, something I always do on his anniversary. Instead, I Eric and I shopped, had lunch and promptly fell asleep from our big meal. By nighttime, I'd curled up with a book, Bed Rest, which was pleasant enough. But I stayed up only until it was a respectable hour to go to sleep.
When I woke on Sunday, I felt lighter because I had survived Solomon's day, again, without him.
Saturday was 8 years. 8 years. I cannot believe it. And I had to get through the day without my grandmother. Eric sent Adam over to me to tell me Solomon loves me. Hearing his name come out of Adam's mouth was shocking, but brought me to a moments reality during a very cloudy morning.
I was cold all day and tried to avoid writing the date. Stupid me had to write 3 checks and in the moment I wrote it 3/8/08 but wouldn't record it in the checkbook.
I feel guilty that I did not look at Solomon's photos, something I always do on his anniversary. Instead, I Eric and I shopped, had lunch and promptly fell asleep from our big meal. By nighttime, I'd curled up with a book, Bed Rest, which was pleasant enough. But I stayed up only until it was a respectable hour to go to sleep.
When I woke on Sunday, I felt lighter because I had survived Solomon's day, again, without him.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Ralph
I saw Ralph last Saturday at Mike and Marie's holiday party. I haven't seen him in two years, not since the last time Eric and I were able to be at M&Ms holiday party. Ralph is a friend of my husband, they used to work for the same company, and Ralph lives a mere seven minutes from our house (not that we ever see him!)
What distinguishes Ralph to me is that he knew me during my happiest time and through my saddest, a span of only three years. When I met Ralph, we hit it off right away - he was a good buddy of Eric's and through lots of fun times, parties and outings, we had a blast. We're even the same sign, Capricorn, but don't ask me what that might have to do with anything.
After Solomon, I was a different person. And somehow Ralph gave me laughs two and three. It sounds funny to write it like that but that's how it was.
At Atlantis in the Bahamas, I spent a miserable week. This was Eric's company trip and he worked really hard to earn it. I was devastated as I'd planned to be pregnant, nearly 8 months so and here I was, nothing. One night we were at one of the club with Ralph, Mike, Marie and some others. All of a sudden, Ralph starts rapping to a Madonna song, I forget which one. The hilarity of the situation is hard to capture. Ralph was a 40-ish, short, Italian, divorced-with-no-children, guy from Queens. He did not fit any mold of any rapper anywhere on the planet. The joy I felt at laughing in relief could be measured on the Richter scale. That was laugh #2.
Of course I was pregnant for the third time in January 2001, dreading what would happen in the future. Eric convinced me we should go away for a ski weekend, in which I wouldn't ski, go snow-mobiling, drink or sit in the hot tub. So I read a book, White Oleander by Janet Fitch, and an issue of "O" - the magazine Oprah Winfrey puts out. Ralph, Mike and Marie and assorted brothers, brothers-in-laws and friends of Mike and Ralph's were also at the cabin. I forgot which meal it was, we were all gathered around. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. All of a sudden, Ralph starts to sink. Now mind you he is already sitting in a chair at the dinner table and seems to be moving south involuntarily. Turns out, the chair rail started to deteriorate right before everyones eyes. We were all a ball of hysterics, even me. When Ralph finally emerged from the floor, you could tell he thought this was just the funniest thing.
We spoke about Ralph's chair incident on Saturday, and I've been meaning to post since then. When I think back to the dark time, it's hard to remember that there were glimpses of light. And Ralph is someone whom I lease expected to be the light-giver.
What distinguishes Ralph to me is that he knew me during my happiest time and through my saddest, a span of only three years. When I met Ralph, we hit it off right away - he was a good buddy of Eric's and through lots of fun times, parties and outings, we had a blast. We're even the same sign, Capricorn, but don't ask me what that might have to do with anything.
After Solomon, I was a different person. And somehow Ralph gave me laughs two and three. It sounds funny to write it like that but that's how it was.
At Atlantis in the Bahamas, I spent a miserable week. This was Eric's company trip and he worked really hard to earn it. I was devastated as I'd planned to be pregnant, nearly 8 months so and here I was, nothing. One night we were at one of the club with Ralph, Mike, Marie and some others. All of a sudden, Ralph starts rapping to a Madonna song, I forget which one. The hilarity of the situation is hard to capture. Ralph was a 40-ish, short, Italian, divorced-with-no-children, guy from Queens. He did not fit any mold of any rapper anywhere on the planet. The joy I felt at laughing in relief could be measured on the Richter scale. That was laugh #2.
Of course I was pregnant for the third time in January 2001, dreading what would happen in the future. Eric convinced me we should go away for a ski weekend, in which I wouldn't ski, go snow-mobiling, drink or sit in the hot tub. So I read a book, White Oleander by Janet Fitch, and an issue of "O" - the magazine Oprah Winfrey puts out. Ralph, Mike and Marie and assorted brothers, brothers-in-laws and friends of Mike and Ralph's were also at the cabin. I forgot which meal it was, we were all gathered around. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. All of a sudden, Ralph starts to sink. Now mind you he is already sitting in a chair at the dinner table and seems to be moving south involuntarily. Turns out, the chair rail started to deteriorate right before everyones eyes. We were all a ball of hysterics, even me. When Ralph finally emerged from the floor, you could tell he thought this was just the funniest thing.
We spoke about Ralph's chair incident on Saturday, and I've been meaning to post since then. When I think back to the dark time, it's hard to remember that there were glimpses of light. And Ralph is someone whom I lease expected to be the light-giver.
Friday, October 12, 2007
October 10 Reunion Group
I attended a Reunion Group this week and saw Patty, Janine T, Bill and Diana and Rosemary and her husband. We were the reunion-ers. In the loss group were several couples, one couple in particular who were there for a repeat. Their second pregnancy ended in loss recently. I remmebered them immediately from the first time I spoke at their group. Talk about UNFAIRNESS.
I sat and listened to the loss group members relay their experiences, and went through my part with my usual shaking and nerous voice. It is still painful to talk about, even at 7+ years. I wonder what the next 7 will be like.
I sat and listened to the loss group members relay their experiences, and went through my part with my usual shaking and nerous voice. It is still painful to talk about, even at 7+ years. I wonder what the next 7 will be like.
The Walk to Remember
October 6th was The Walk to Remember. As strange as this may sound, it was truly wonderful to be there and not be a speaker. It's not that I don't want to talk, anyone who knows me knows I have a hard time shutting up. It was more of a relief to have the role of just a mourner among all the others. And there were others....so may newbies. That's what incites my anger now, that more and more women and men and families are experience pregnancy loss.
I was angry with myself for such a long time for taking Solomon from me and did let go of the anger eventually. It took years but I eventually forgave myself too. But the naive part of me still wants no more pregnancies to have unhappy outcomes. I know my thoughts are unreasonable, I just can't help them.
I was angry with myself for such a long time for taking Solomon from me and did let go of the anger eventually. It took years but I eventually forgave myself too. But the naive part of me still wants no more pregnancies to have unhappy outcomes. I know my thoughts are unreasonable, I just can't help them.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Solomon's Paper
I received in the mail Solomon scrapbook paper - I went on the Scrap It Simple website and ordered white cardstock, blue ink, scatter design, of his name. It will be for the memorial book Winthrop University Hospital is compiling. I originally wanted to do Solomon's page identical to his quilt square. But too many computer crashes and too many lost files has lost the document into cyberspace. So I am using the name paper and created a solid blue heart with white lettering indicating his date, March 8, 2000.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Alison is 6 today!
Alison is 6 today. It hardly seems like she should be this up in years already. I am thankful for every second I have spent with her. She is my joy!
Monday, August 13, 2007
This Years' Walk
I've already received email and snail mail announcements for this years' Walk to Remember sponsored by Winthrop University Hospital. I spoke with Patti, and we really both have mixed feelings about participating.
Yes, the boulder of grief has been chipped away from my heart and I don't actively mourn Solomon anymore. But on the other hand, I know what comfort I got in the early months from those who had also "been there" and I always feel the need to "give back." At least I don't have to decide today.
Yes, the boulder of grief has been chipped away from my heart and I don't actively mourn Solomon anymore. But on the other hand, I know what comfort I got in the early months from those who had also "been there" and I always feel the need to "give back." At least I don't have to decide today.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
August 1
Always a tough day for me. It is Rebecca's birthday. At the time I was supposed to celebrating the joy of having my first child while my best friend enjoyed the birth of hers.
Solomon and Rebecca were due within days of each other. I was so raw when Jon called to say she had been born and that mother and baby were doing well. Not the mother and baby I knew, not me, not Solomon. I couldn't get out of bed and hoped to be forgiven for being such a rotten friend.
Solomon and Rebecca were due within days of each other. I was so raw when Jon called to say she had been born and that mother and baby were doing well. Not the mother and baby I knew, not me, not Solomon. I couldn't get out of bed and hoped to be forgiven for being such a rotten friend.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
The day my husband forbids me to mention
Today is the day my husband forbids me to mention. Maybe not forbids, but he has let me know in no uncertain terms, not to bring it up.
Today is the day that my first child was supposed to be born. Based on my recording keeping and the calculated dates of ovulation, conception and sonogram-dating, every date came to the conclusion July 28th was the BIG DAY. Eric feels there's no point recalling this day, since we don't recall the due date's of Alison and Adam. I of course argue his point. We do mention Alison's due date because it was my mother's birthday and there's not much to say about Adam's since it was pretty much on his birthday. His date's were always off but I firmly believe he was due March 29 but I couldn't have a scheduled C on Saturday so Friday March 28th it was.
When July 28, 2000 came, I was in a hotel in Washington DC, fantasizing Room Service would deliver a baby to me, sobbing in Eric's arms, and listening to the very last broadcast of Regis and KathyLee - a program I had never watched. It was a horrible day for me and thinking back I can remember the rawness I felt, as if someone stripped by skin and I was just a bunch of bones with a broken heart.
Today in 2007, I'm not much happier. Oh there have been joyous times, and there will continue to be. But I am still deeply saddened by my grandmother's death on July 4th and I'm feeling a lot of that rawness today. At least I have my children, who've been extremely tolerant of their moody mommy.
Today is the day that my first child was supposed to be born. Based on my recording keeping and the calculated dates of ovulation, conception and sonogram-dating, every date came to the conclusion July 28th was the BIG DAY. Eric feels there's no point recalling this day, since we don't recall the due date's of Alison and Adam. I of course argue his point. We do mention Alison's due date because it was my mother's birthday and there's not much to say about Adam's since it was pretty much on his birthday. His date's were always off but I firmly believe he was due March 29 but I couldn't have a scheduled C on Saturday so Friday March 28th it was.
When July 28, 2000 came, I was in a hotel in Washington DC, fantasizing Room Service would deliver a baby to me, sobbing in Eric's arms, and listening to the very last broadcast of Regis and KathyLee - a program I had never watched. It was a horrible day for me and thinking back I can remember the rawness I felt, as if someone stripped by skin and I was just a bunch of bones with a broken heart.
Today in 2007, I'm not much happier. Oh there have been joyous times, and there will continue to be. But I am still deeply saddened by my grandmother's death on July 4th and I'm feeling a lot of that rawness today. At least I have my children, who've been extremely tolerant of their moody mommy.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
A photo in heaven
It's hard to know what is the "right" thing to do, especially where death is concerned. I arrived at the Funeral home Thursday July 5 with photos of my children and my grandmother. I guess I should say my living chidren. I did not know what to do regarding Solomon.
My grandmother was at my side through my ordeal losing Solomon, and would hold my hand for months to come whenever we were together. She never spoke of him, taking the lead from me.
I called my husband and asked him to bring a photo of Solomon for my grandmother's coffin. I did not have the photo displayed with the other photos of her great-grandchildren - it would have been too much for me to explain to those who came to comfort us. His picture was in an envelope with instructions to place it with my grandmother when the casket was sealed. And that's what happened.
My grandmother was at my side through my ordeal losing Solomon, and would hold my hand for months to come whenever we were together. She never spoke of him, taking the lead from me.
I called my husband and asked him to bring a photo of Solomon for my grandmother's coffin. I did not have the photo displayed with the other photos of her great-grandchildren - it would have been too much for me to explain to those who came to comfort us. His picture was in an envelope with instructions to place it with my grandmother when the casket was sealed. And that's what happened.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
This just SUCKS
About 7:30 this morning my telephone rang. It was my mother. I knew the news could not be good, but I didn't think it would be as bad as it was. My grandmother had died this morning. I dropped the phone and fell silent.
When Eric finished talking to my mom, he held me as I shook and cried. "Why would my mother say such a mean thing?" I asked, not to him directly.
This was one of the days I was always dreading.
Goldie, my grandmother, was one of the lights of my life. To know her was to love her. Always with a smile and a positive attitude, she was very honest and forgiving, two traits I have always tried to have. She always turned away to other people's flaws and saw the best side of them.
She loved unconditionally, no matter who, no matter what.
When I was losing Solomon, one of the things I wanted the most was her. And she obliged by sitting quietly in the corner of my hospital room. She said nothing, she just let me rant.
When I gave birth to Alison, she was there with my mother. Her first great-grandchild had been born, and a great-granddaughter no less. And when Adam was born, she was right there too. Reveling in the love we felt for the new "little man" in our family. We gave her the honor of Sandek at his bris.
Goldie was a golden light who never wanted anything more than to be surrounded by those she loved most in the world. My life is now darker and will remain so, regardless of the joys that lie ahead.
I miss you grandma.
When Eric finished talking to my mom, he held me as I shook and cried. "Why would my mother say such a mean thing?" I asked, not to him directly.
This was one of the days I was always dreading.
Goldie, my grandmother, was one of the lights of my life. To know her was to love her. Always with a smile and a positive attitude, she was very honest and forgiving, two traits I have always tried to have. She always turned away to other people's flaws and saw the best side of them.
She loved unconditionally, no matter who, no matter what.
When I was losing Solomon, one of the things I wanted the most was her. And she obliged by sitting quietly in the corner of my hospital room. She said nothing, she just let me rant.
When I gave birth to Alison, she was there with my mother. Her first great-grandchild had been born, and a great-granddaughter no less. And when Adam was born, she was right there too. Reveling in the love we felt for the new "little man" in our family. We gave her the honor of Sandek at his bris.
Goldie was a golden light who never wanted anything more than to be surrounded by those she loved most in the world. My life is now darker and will remain so, regardless of the joys that lie ahead.
I miss you grandma.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mother's Day
On my first Mother's Day as a mother, May 2000, I did not have a child. That is, I did not have a living child. Solomon was born and had died a few weeks prior. On this particular day I found myself in the Bahamas, at the luxury resort Atlantis. The scenery was lush and vivid but everything seemed veiled to me. My husband was great, guiding me through the motions of the day, making sure I ate, rested, and took in some of the beach. I felt so out of place. Even though there were no children on our trip, it was a business trip for Eric, I still was disfigured from the pregnancy and birth and felt as if I wanted to die.
Today, 7 years later, is different. The world is awash in color, and I could take in the smell of Alison's hair and notice the red ruddiness of Adam's scraped news.
Happy Mother's Day Solomon.
Today, 7 years later, is different. The world is awash in color, and I could take in the smell of Alison's hair and notice the red ruddiness of Adam's scraped news.
Happy Mother's Day Solomon.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
A Long Island Love Story
A few weeks ago I submitted an email to Long Island Love Stories, a segment of the Channel 12 news here on Long Island. I told how Eric and I reconnected after our divorces, had a wonderful wedding and honeymoon, found ourselves pregnant (ok, only I was the pregnant one) and then suffered a tsunami of our own when we lost Solomon. We were interviewed on Friday March 23, 2007 in our home. This was not the first time I was interviewed about pregnancy loss but it was the first time for me on camera, and it was the first time my husband spoke.
As I've mentioned before, there is something comforting to me to hear my husband speak Solomon's name, and watching the interview it is no different. I felt so estranged from Eric for such a long time, and with the publishing of the book and additional steps I feel as if things are back on the right track for us.
As I've mentioned before, there is something comforting to me to hear my husband speak Solomon's name, and watching the interview it is no different. I felt so estranged from Eric for such a long time, and with the publishing of the book and additional steps I feel as if things are back on the right track for us.
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