30 December 2012

dear heart.



here she is--sweet Imogen Louise. 

She was born 12/19, at 8:13 in the morning, and weighed 5 and three-quarters pounds.  She is beautiful and calm and wise.  Because of Imogen's heart defect, we've spent these first days of her life in a whirlwind of hospital, surgery, and recovery; we're still in the CICU and will remain at the hospital another week or two.  It's going to be a long process, but so far all is going as well as we could hope, I am so very happy to report. 

I know there are a few who read this page who may not have heard this news elsewhere, so I wanted to share here, and to invite you, if you would like, to read about Imogen's progress over at {dear heart.}, where we are keeping a little news-and-notes blog for friends and family. 

I have always been hot and cold in this space, and I don't expect that to change right now--and yet I've been feeling drawn here over the past week, wanting to record the thoughts that don't quite fit in the other blog.  I find myself writing there in a cheerful/ironic/upbeat mode, which is certainly (partly) true of how we want to keep our mood in this strange Now.  But then again that kind of writing strays into a kind of cuteness that bothers me; I err on the side of safe distance with an audience that includes far-flung relatives and in-laws and colleagues.  This space, of course, is no more private in fact (probably less so), and yet it feels like the better, safer place to explore the more complicated parts of this journey.  Things like the strangeness of being in a hospital over the holidays, or the challenge of parenting with children in two different locations, or the ways this experience, at every turn, both undermines and confirms my assumptions about ideas like bonding and natural parenting and even concepts as abstract and deeply seeded as control.

All that said, I am more certain now than ever that love is very real, as are compassion and connection, and I have felt them from so many sides these past weeks.  Whether you read here because you are a close confidant, or because we are casual internet acquaintances, or because you followed a link about grapefruit peels--thanks for investing a moment of your time in my life.  I know I am not the first person to go through a health crisis--we all will, most likely--but mine is the story I know best. 

6 comments:

small + friendly said...

I am so very happy to hear things are going as well as hoped. She is absolutely precious. Sending well wishes and hopes of strength, I know this must be incredibly difficult and I thank you for sharing with such honesty. May your Now improve with each passing day. Hugs and congrats!

Hannah said...

I was delighted to see this post pop up in my Greader this morning. I can't get enough news of Imogen honestly :) I love what you wrote: "Mine is the story I know best."

kristin said...

I can't imagine how hard it must be to both worry about your new little one and be away from your two bigger ones. Hang in there, mama. I'm glad you have outlets for all your feelings, positive and not-so-positive. And little Imogen is simply beautiful. She'll be running around with rosy cheeks in no time flat!! Take care.

Kan said...

So glad to connect with you here too. You are amazing and all three of your beauties know it. Hope to see you soon.

Tünde said...

Hi, I landed here via sewliberated and from the other end of this globe I would like to congratulate to the pretty little new member of your family. I would like to send you all the positive thoughts and energy I can. Keep on!

k a t y said...

Oh, she is beautiful and delicious. Congratulations on getting a girl. A dainty addition to your sweet family.

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