March 31.2016

I can hardly believe that I am already writing this date. It seems like only yesterday we were starting 2016 and now we are almost 4 months into this year. A lot of my customers will tell me that time flies faster the older you get and I have to say I tend to agree with them. I have been working for a year almost. This next week will mark that 1 year anniversary. Hard to believe I have been graduated with a job for over a year now. Easter Sunday I lost one of my clients. Stage 4 Pancreatic cancer. I was so sad. He did not even get the chance to fight  if that is what he was going to choose to do. I have yet to decided if his passing was a blessing or not. Stage for Pancreatic cancer is almost no turning back. It is very hard to beat. I don't think when I started this job that I would see so much death. So far this year we have lost 4 patients. I am not sure why I did not think about it but I didn't.

We are going to Nevada in a few weeks. The time frame that we are wanting to move is getting closer and closer yet it seems we are no closer to being able to do it than we were last year around this time. I see it coming as one of those huge leaps with little preparation. I could be wrong but at this point who knows. I can say I can't wait to be out of this state. I really feel like nothing else is here for me hasn't been for awhile.

I hope that 2016 is being good to you so far. I am sure that you are super busy with school and all kinds of fun activities. I would love to hear from your Mommy Y and Daddy D but I understand their busy with you and your brother. My thoughts are with you often Jv. We love you and we miss you.

Right around the corner

I only have 2 more days until your Birthday. 2015 flew by in the blink of an eye. I cannot believe that we are in February again. It seem's so quick. You are about to turn 5 years old. I sit and imagine what it would be like if you were here. Still not a day goes by that I don't think about you and wonder what life is like for you. I often smile more than I cry these days. I often laugh more than I shout and  there is far less heartache than there used to be. 2015 was much easier emotionally for me than any year since you left. I find myself a little upset that I am actually working on your birthday this year. I  did not have anything really planned but it is always nice to have the time to reflect on it all. It is also nice to just be left alone on that day with me and my thoughts. But this year the pharmacy world calls. Sickness never takes a holiday. SO while I am helping my customers and taking care of things in the pharmacy I want you to know I will be thinking about you and smiling. I am sure a few tears will escape as well but that's another story all together.

I am not sure what happened but I never returned to the blog on your Birthday to finish this post. I am so sorry.

Been thinking, reading, and working.

I find it hard to believe that we are already in March of 2016. Seems like just a few days ago we rang in the new year and now we are already 3 Months in. You have already turned 5 years old. I know  I ask this question a lot  but where has the time gone? Seems the older I get, the older you get the faster this world turns. I found this blog post not to long ago and I have been mulling over it for awhile. It was titled "The hardest Mile"
http://www.coffeeandcrumbs.net/blog/2016/3/4/the-hardest-mile

In this blog post a Adoptive mom writes about the mile the birth mother of her child walked in order to bring him to safety. She decided to run in a marathon in memory of her child's birth mom. I think that is awesome. I have been very interested in doing something of a similar nature. I have no reason why but I am thinking that by the age of 40 I want to accomplish this goal with you in mind. Here is what is written in the actual blog.

“Walked a mile to nearest road.” Those six words are the most heartbreaking love story I have ever known.

Our son was “safely surrendered” at the hospital by a mother who did not disclose her name. She did not know who the father was. She stated that the baby’s ethnicity was “other.” She did not give him a name. She hadn’t even known that she was pregnant.

She filled out a half-page questionnaire at the request of a hospital social worker, and then she left. That questionnaire, scribbled out in messy handwriting, is all the information we have. It is the prelude to my son’s entire life, and it is five questions long. There is no family heritage, no story from a grandparent or eye color from a father. There are no pregnancy cravings or belly photos or relatives to resemble. In so many ways, it feels like it will never be enough.

But there is this: there is the story of how fiercely my son’s first mother loved him. It is six words long, in her own handwriting, hiding in plain sight on that photocopied half-page questionnaire.

“Walked a mile to nearest road.”

She was homeless, you see, living somewhere rural outside of the city. Since she hadn’t known she was pregnant, she didn’t realize she was going into labor until the event was well underway. So she gave birth outside, alone, in the middle of the night, underneath a tree. The next day, she walked a mile to the nearest road, hitchhiked to the hospital, and asked the nurses to make sure her baby boy grew up in a family that could care for him and love him in a way that she didn’t feel equipped to. And then she left, alone.

I’ve thought about that mile that she walked so many times. How much pain was she in? How many times did she have to stop to rest? Did the baby cry? Did she? Did his tiny four pound body eventually feel heavy in her arms, no baby carrier or sling to help her?

After I gave birth to my oldest son I needed two grown adults to help me walk to the bathroom the first time. I gladly accepted the wheelchair ride to the car when it was time to leave the hospital, and then I hardly left the house for two weeks. There were painkillers and helpful family members and advice to “sleep when the baby sleeps.” There was no walking. There were no miles.

I’ve had a burning desire in my heart to honor her, and that mile she walked, since the day I held her baby in my arms and knew that he was my baby, too. I ache to feel connected to her, to keep her spirit alive in our family, to declare in some sort of meaningful way that I see it, that six word love story, and that I am changed by it.

So I’m running a marathon for her.

I’ve been active my whole life, but never very good at any of my athletic pursuits. I’m a perpetual “Spirit of the Game” award recipient — the girl who shows up, tries hard, and leaves little impression. I have finished a handful of 5K and 10K races, always in the middle of the pack, and never with a desire to run any farther. A marathon has never had any appeal for me.

Until now.

***

My son’s birthday is always a bittersweet holiday for me; more sweet than bitter, but forever marked by the absence of the mother that brought him into this world. I have fumbled at various efforts to honor her at each passing year: an extra candle on the birthday cake, a pre-dawn prayer, and always - in spite of myself - tears of heartache and gratitude.

On his third birthday, though, I thought again of that mile she walked. I wondered where she was now, if she remembered that it was his birthday, if she was walking part of that mile again today. During my son’s nap, I decided to lace up my running shoes and go for a run. Three miles. One for each year that had passed, each birthday that she had missed. I finished those miles damp with sweat and tears, feeling like it was the most fitting birthday tribute to date. I wondered how many years I might be able to run a mile for each birthday that had gone by. Could I run ten miles for his tenth birthday? Fifteen miles five years after that? And then what? When he is an adult and living on his own, could I ever possibly make it all the way to 26 miles? Could a marathon be the tribute I had been searching for?

Despite feeling quite sure I’d never be able to run a full 26.2 mile marathon, I couldn’t shake the curiosity. I found myself looking up the Big Sur Marathon one day, and was relieved to find that the race was already full. I was off the hook. But then, in tiny print: space available with our charity teams. I clicked the link to find a list of charities, and although I was familiar with many of them, one in particular jumped out at me: Every Mother Counts, a non-profit that seeks to make childbirth safe for every mother, everywhere.

I instantly felt a lump in my throat. I imagined what it would be like towards the end of the race, running those last painful miles. When my legs feel like lead and I can’t catch my breath and I’m convinced that I can’t go on. I think of her. And just like that, it is decided: I will run this marathon.

When I doubt myself and I want to quit, it is her strength that I will summon. I will remember the circumstances under which she walked that hardest mile, how heavy her heart must have been, and how she did it anyways. That last, impossible mile of my marathon? That’s her mile. I will run that mile for her and for the six word love story that connects us forever.

---

Written by Anna Quinlan, who is running the Big Sur Marathon on April 24, 2016 with a goal to raise $1500 for Every Mother Counts. She runs in honor of her son’s birth mother, who did not receive any prenatal or childbirth care, and who walked an impossible mile in the name of maternal love. If you would like to support this cause, she would be honored to represent you while she runs. You can donate on behalf of yourself or someone you’d like to honor HERE. Every dollar goes directly to Every Mother Counts and is tax-deductible (Tax ID EIN: 45-4102644). Photo by Sandra Kordazakis.

It does not have to be a 5k or even a 10k but who knows maybe some day I could work up to that. This blog has really stuck with me since I read it. I can only imagine what that mother endured and now hopefully one day she will read that blog and know that she inspired someone. Not only that she inspired someone but that her baby is loved and cared for just as she wanted. 

Other than that I am almost a year at my job with CVS and it is hard to believe that is even possible. I work close to 40 hours or more in a weeks time and I love the job that I do. I still sometimes lack the love for that place that I do it. One of these day's I guess you can't always get both in this world. 

In free time (which is not much) I have taken up reading again. The 1999 Columbine High School shooting in Colorado is a very close to home topic for me so imagine my surprise when one of the gunmen  from that day (Dylan Klebold) his mother released a book  called Living in the aftermath of Tragedy. What a wonderful book. In the first week of it's release it made the New York Times best sellers list. Every single penny that this book makes goes to charity. I think that is a wonderful way for her to give back. This woman has given so much of her life after her sons actions to helping others and helping herself as well. She does not make excuses for what her son did which was shocking to me. I expected to read a ton of them but she tries to understand even in her own writing WHY. So now I have moved onto my favorite Author currently Catherine Ryan Hyde and I am reading one of her releases from last year. Worthy. So far it is amazing as always. just started it two days ago and already 46% of the way done. I ma not sure what I will read next but I am sure it will be something by her. I still thinking about you all the time. I am not sure that will ever stop. I can only imagine what this year is going to hold for you as you get ready for Kindergarten. Keep walking those miles JV. I love you and miss you so.