Sometimes a Double Stroller means so much more than what it is.

Nine years ago today, Henry was assembling a double stroller in the driveway for our second baby who we were not certain would be a reality.

It was a hot and sunny day in May, JB was running around the yard, and Henry was struggling with the Graco Duo Glider that we debated over purchasing for a month.  At the very last-minute, we decided to pull out all the stops and get the big hunk of a stroller (in navy blue not mint green).

Not the Duo Glider but an illustration of HB's assembling skills -

I was huge, hot, and ready to deliver a baby the next day (I was being induced first thing in the morning).  Henry was about as ready to meet his second son as he was his first.  We were both completely and utterly unprepared for the change that was upon our little family.  To a certain extent, I don’t think either of us really believed that we were going to have a second baby.  Our denial was the elephant in the room for nine months.

I only have these memories in my mind from that day.  In fact, the only recollections of the nine months during which I was pregnant with BB are in my head.  There are no photos of my pregnant belly or nudie shots a la Demi Moore like with baby # 1.  In fact, there is no tangible imprint of the pregnancy on our lives from those nine months.  My heart still beats fast whenever I think of those LONG nine months.

My first pregnancy with JB went smoothly.  I jetted from Pittsburgh to L.A. to NYC and Hawaii and Las Vegas.  I think I also made a stop in Columbus, Ohio.  I worked out, worked, decorated, shopped, washed EVERYTHING in Dreft, and prepared with ease.  All of this made it much harder when my second pregnancy ended almost half-way through around 18 weeks.  Quite possibly the darkest days of my life and certainly Henry’s and my marriage.

My eyes fill with tears just writing this, and I feel as though I cannot go on with this post.  I do not know if I will ever be able to put paper to pen or hand to keyboard about the specifics of that time period.  It was just devastatingly awful, and I was quite certain that my life would never be the same.  Not to mention, with Henry and I both being only children, all we wanted for JB was to have a sibling.  There was also a nagging fear that something may happen to JB.  I didn’t know what, but something. Clearly there was some sort of dark cloud looming over me.

Although many friends and family members disagreed, I felt determined to give JB a brother or sister because I always dreamed of having one.  I found myself pregnant and scared to death 4 months after losing the baby.  There was no jetting around, name picking, or fantasizing over Wendy Bellisimo Linens.

Henry and I settled into a quiet routine of bi-weekly ultrasounds and doctor appointments until I was 20 weeks pregnant, at which point we shared the stressful news that we were pregnant with a limited group.

The second 20 weeks were a blur of more sonograms, doctor visits, and what seemed to be false assurances that our baby would be OK.  Uh – NOT until I see that damn baby, would I believe that.

At 8 months pregnant, I suffered the loss of my father which was not easy under extreme supervision and watchful eyes.  Everyone involved was concerned for me and the baby (who would now be named for my dad).

It was only in the last 24 hours before getting induced, Henry and I could actually allow ourselves to believe that we were going to have a second baby.  We marked the occasion with purchasing the Duo Glider which seemed like such a monstrosity to an urban couple, but was also symbolic of what we yearned for in the worst way.  A stroller built for TWO was a dream come true for us.

On May 26, 2003 upon BB being delivered, Henry and I both breathed the HUGEST sigh of relief.  A cute, tiny, little peanut at only 6 pounds, BB was our greatest accomplishment.  He was a tremendous jewel, a shiny orb that I dreamt about over and over again.

I don’t have any photos to mark this time, but now I have this blog post as part of my legacy to Blake.  A piece of my history on what he really means to me.  My baby, my dad’s namesake, JB’s little bro!

We do have lots of snapshots of the Duo Glider in use, though.  That big thing went everywhere with us until it was on its last wheel.  Why can’t they make a purse that holds as much as that stroller?

I knew that Henry and I could not go through another nine months like that ever again, so I held onto every stage with BB.  (Possibly, why I prolonged going back to work a little longer that I should have, but that little baby captured my heart.)

If you knew BB as a baby, you know that he was sweet like an angel.  Honestly, he barely cried, slept anywhere, and was a cream puff.  Ummmm…now he is a little devil, prankster, drummer, Lego master builder, bicycle speed demon with the most wicked left-handed lay-up…I need 5 sets of eyes with him.

With all eyes and energy focused on ‘the party’ (as we refer to BB) … He is about all that I can handle along with his older bro.

This holiday weekend, I am honoring BB and how he completed our little family.  I am unplugging and taking some time with the most precious men in my life…all 3 of them…HB, JB, AND BB.

Wishing you a wonderful Memorial Day Weekend.  I will be back in a few days, and I would love to hear your comments, thoughts or wishes for other moms in a precarious position.

Thanks for letting me share.