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Putting away suitcases above high closet I stumbled upon a tightly folded piece of paper in the back corner of the shelf. Unfolded it to find this “check to myself” belonging to the previous tenants of this house. 100 miiiiilllion dollars. They didn’t date the check (I would’ve- the universe needs clear instructions!!! details!!! deadlines!!!!) but I put it on my fridge… deciding if it actually means anything in my life (thinking not) but amused by it nonetheless…
Babyloss Support Group
Frankenstorm damage… Please stand by…
Conversation while driving kiddos to school: Big one: mom, you know money is just paper, you can’t rely on it for anything. And then you die and you can’t do anything with it anyway. Mom: that’s why you have a will. To tell people what to do with your money. Lil one: what if you’re poor and have no money? Mom: you still have a will in case you have kids so you can say who should take care of them if they’re not old enough to take care of themselves. Lil one: like if you have a kid when you’re 90? Big one: you can only have a kid till you’re 50. Lil one: so mommy has 10 more years to have another baby. Big one: but mommys not gonna have another baby because she’s not praying to god to give her one and also she’s happy with the kids she already has. Mom: you learned you have babies when you pray to god to give you one? Big one: yeah, that’s how my teacher (who recently gave birth) got one. She prayed for it. Mom: ya know there’s more to it than praying, right? There’s like, science and stuff…. I’ll get you a book. …. On its surface, I get this— I do send them to a religious school…. but I can’t help but think of the whole “my baby would’ve lived if I’d just prayed harder” nonsense that permeates the babyloss communities. The complicated pregnancies that resulted in healthy survivors and the subtle but unintended arrogance of mothers crediting their prayers for their luck, directly shaming those with worse luck who believed in prayer with just as much blind faith but still lost. #postlosslife – amazing how many things hearken back to the lessons learned. Any book suggestions or should I just do what my mom did and leave a copy of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” in plain site at all times? I think I turned out relatively healthy on that education.