Us Without You: Happy Late Birthday, Claire

I realized the other day that I hadn't written a post about Claire for her 2nd birthday. This horrifies me a little bit because I have done it for both of Ian's birthdays since Chris died. I don't want Claire to be the stereotypical second child and get the short end of the stick...even more so because of our circumstances.

I know why this oversight happened. There is something so incredibly painful for me about Ian's birthday as opposed to Claire's birthday. You would think it would be the opposite. I thought it would be the opposite. The minute I heard Chris's diagnosis, I thought I would never be able to celebrate Claire's birthday since she was born in the midst of this storm. I was certain that, at best, her birthday would be bittersweet and that, at worst, it would be well, just bitter. But as it turns out, while her birthday is sad for me because Chris isn't here to experience it, the two that she has had so far haven't been nearly as traumatic as I thought they would be. But Ian's birthdays...they are a different story.

Each time his birthday approaches, I relive the excitement Chris and I were feeling at meeting our first child. I recount every hour of the day before he was born from having mild contractions while reading the last installment of the Harry Potter series to going to bed without eating dinner per instructions from my sister (so I wouldn't get sick during labor). I recall waking up at 3 a.m. on July 22nd in real labor and realizing that our Lamaze classes were a damn waste of money. I think about how we drove to the hospital in the dark calling our family to alert them to the impending delivery. And I remember the smile that could not be wiped from Chris's face once he met his son and the endless pictures and videos he took of Ian's first few hours. You see, Chris was with me for every minute of it. We were a team for Ian's birth from the minute we took the pregnancy test until the minute he finally debuted after many hours of labor and an emergency c-section.

Ian's birthday represents the most significant of dreams shattered. It is a symbol of what I have lost. It is such a stark contrast between what life was supposed to be and what it actually is. As with many people, Ian's birth was the defining moment in Chris's life. After four and a half decades of being on his own, he was finally complete...a husband and a father. And then a mere 17 months later, he was robbed of the ability to live this new rich and fulfilling life. And it is because of this that I feel the need each year to write about it. I grasp at the shared experience Chris and I had together and feel the need to update him about the days, and now, years he has missed in Ian's life.

On the other hand, if I am honest with myself, I admit to feeling on my own at certain periods throughout my pregnancy with Claire. At the time, I thought those feelings were the result of hormone fluctuations or fatigue at being very pregnant while caring for a toddler. I didn't realize until months after Chris died that the times he seemed not quite as in tune with this pregnancy as he was with Ian's were because of the brain tumors. His lack of emotion at times was a direct result of where one of the tumors was located--on the top of the brain which effects personality and affect. And of course, by the time we were two weeks from Claire's birth, the grim prognosis loomed over our heads.

I went into the delivery room for Claire's birth with my mom instead of Chris. In fact, I made the decision pretty much without him that that was the way it was going to be. He wasn't truly capable at that point of sitting around for a few hours waiting for a c-section to start and the hospital staff made it known that they preferred for him not to be in the room. He closed his eyes and nodded when I told him it would be best if he came to the hospital once she was born. He just didn't have it in him to be any more involved than that or to even debate it. I knew the score when I was wheeled into the operating room on January 3, 2009. Unlike when I entered that same room 17 months prior, I knew what the immediate future held for me: widowhood and single motherhood. And for better or worse, these reasons make me sometimes forget that I wasn't truly alone during that time. I did have a partner who would have been there 100% throughout the whole experience if he could have been. And so today I feel the need to share with Chris (and anyone else who cares to know) all the wonderful ways Claire has blessed my life.

Claire is a sweetie pie (just ask Ian...he called her that the other day). She has this adorable little voice that she puts to lots of good use. She talks tons these days. I mean, you can really have a conversation with her. She has always been extremely communicative. I remember an experience that really drove this home early on. When she was four weeks old, I brought her with me to my first grief support group meeting. Someone in the group said something funny (believe it or not) and everyone laughed. Claire had been resting her head on my shoulder and when she heard everyone laugh, she raised her head and smiled this open mouth smile as if she was laughing along. I think it is safe to say she is a people person.

Claire likes to finish the sentences of her favorite books (currently Gossie & Gertie and any Biscuit story). She loves to sing or hum along with any song. Even if she doesn't know it she pretends like she does. She is a bit of a tube head and has certain movies and t.v. shows she is partial to (Dora, Fireman Sam and Wonder Pets). She is quite attached to her brother, her granny and her mommy. She has a blankie she drags everywhere that she calls "boppy." She sleeps late (for a toddler). She tries most new food and loves broccoli, cherries and any type of potato.

Claire is a daredevil. She will climb anything and jumps into most new experiences without fear. She can't wait to go to preschool like Ian. She is almost potty trained. She has always liked hats but has just recently started to really enjoy playing "dress up." One of her favorite past times is stealing Ian's toys. She could identify a few colors when she was 18 months old and knows all of them now. She can count to 3 (and then skips to 6, 8 and 10). She loves babies and dogs. She is just smart and funny and a joy to be around. And this is how she has changed over the last year...