the walks we take


oh. this combination brought up a lot of memories. two photos from walks taken with remy: one the june before we left mobile, al. and a very snowy walk we took a few weeks ago. (so much snow.)

that last year in mobile was hard. remy got a diagnosis, started (extremely ineffective) speech therapy, had an eeg and then an mri and we received the shocking news that he'd had a pediatric stroke (really, "ischemic/ hypoxemic injury pattern," but we short hand it to stroke because most people know what that means).

i got pregnant sometime in the week before or after hearing those words. we had been trying (not really trying, but open to the possibility, since we did not want to go back to those really awful infertility days) for only two or three cycles, so it seemed miraculous.

and then the miscarriage.

which came right in the middle of my husband's job interviews to get us out of alabama, since we knew we needed to leave to get remy better services. i made m leave that day i started bleeding. i made him get on a plane, to go on an interview, because we needed to leave more than i needed him to be there with me. (and oh, how i needed him.)

on that note, one week after remy started preschool in new jersey, he had slowed his garbled strings of giberish into sentences that we could understand. he started asking questions! it was a leap that was so beyond what we had expected, it absolutely felt miraculous. the speech therapist could hear that he'd been saying his words all at once, slurred, without pause, which was exactly what i had been telling the speech therapists in mobile the entire year he'd been there. they never believed me. they never even believed me that he had hundreds of single words. all because he would not focus on their lessons and didn't want to do what they wanted him to do. and they were the teachers of all the speech therapists in town. oh, my vindication.

all of which gets us here. and here is so damn good, except when it's hard. (like now, with all this cold and snow and ugh. i need spring. only a few more weeks. and it looks like today may be our last subfreezing day. please, please, please.)

in some ways, i feel much more a fish out of water on the east coast than i ever did in the south (i mean, i was born in texas. we're kin to the south, if not quite part of it, depending on who you ask.) and yet, this is where i need to be. for remy, for m. for me.

this is where i need to be. right here. right now.

(waiting for our trees to bloom. soon. soon. spring is coming!)