Monday, August 16, 2010

The Best of Just By Living; How Far We Have Come

How Far We Have Come


A few days ago we spent the afternoon at The Liberty Hotel (my husband is their resident DJ so we spend a decent amount of time in their amazing rooms). We lounged, ate, Smoosh napped, I watched bad television. It was perfect.

My first time staying at The Liberty was when I was about four months pregnant. I slept in the huge kind size bed, butter soft sheets, feathers for pillows.

Princess and the Pea.

Four months is such a fun time. Everything tasted so good. I felt great. I was aching for others to notice my mini baby bump.

I took the longest shower in the morning. They have amazing glass enclosed showers with the perfect amount of light and just the right water pressure. I kept starring through the door into the mirror admiring my new body. The little nest I was growing for my baby bird.

The light illuminate a roundness below my navel.
A glow on my cheeks.
The mirror reflected Hope.
A future.
Bright and long.

When I got out I wrapped the long white robe around me and tied the sash just above the bump. At the time it got lost under the material. But it never got lost in my mind.

You were always in the forefront. 
My baby bean growing, changing, living within me.

Big Bed.Little Baby.Lounging at The Liberty Hotel.

When I was about 8 months pregnant my husband treated me to another night at the Liberty. Again, we lounged, ate, I complained. I was sick of eating. I was exhausted from waking multiple times every night. No longer did I want attention for my belly but to hide it away as my little secret.

Just for me and your father. Our sweet secret. Hidden gem. Buried treasure.

I was sick of sharing you with the world already.


Again I showered. I remember being frustrated because I couldn't reach a dropped shampoo bottle.

The light illuminated fat thighs.
A bloated face.
The mirror reflected chubs and flubs and small inconveniences piling up.

The towel wouldn't fit around my waist. I had to tie the robe high up, just below my breasts. I was hot. Uncomfortable. Impatient.

After he was born. While Hendrix was still in the NICU, again we had a room. Michael and his son would sleep there so they could be closer to the hospital. The plan was for me to eat, shower, and catch a nap with them before heading back to my baby.

I picked at my food.
I cried in the bathroom.
I changed my mind.

I wanted to go back right away. It had been 45 minutes since I'd left.
My husband pleaded with me to at least relax and shower.

So again I showered. This time I hated the light.

It illuminated the bags under my eyes.
I hated the mirror.
It reflected back my grotesquely empty abdomen.

I sobbed. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I gasped for air. Choked on my own tears. I rested my face on the cool stone tile.
I put myself on repeat.
Out loud, I begged myself.
Just Breathe.
Just Breathe.
Just Breathe.
It was in those moments that in my head I wrote this and this.

So on our perfect afternoon, about three months later, I of course, showered. This time with my rolly, polly, jelly bean.
I pressed him up against me. He sucked on my shoulder. put his fingers to my mouth. This time,
The light illuminated wide eyes.
Rose petal mouth.
Curled toes.
The mirror reflected Joy.
Pure, unadulterated, deep and wide as the ocean Joy.

He fell asleep. In my arms. In that shower. The same one where I cried and begged the universe to care for my son. To teach him to breathe. Where I begged myself to do just the same.

How far we have come.


  1. when i first started reading your blog i though it was interesting and different... now it's getting kind of annoying, must you make redundant little lists of things that sort-of-go-together-but-not-really in the middle of the story? I tried to ignore it because i enjoyed reading about little hendrix, done now. seriously, wish you and Hendrix the best but i wont be following anymore

  2. This is fantastic. I have tears rolling down my face. You are a beautiful writer Adriana. xo

  3. anonymous- yes i must make little lists! because lists rule and so does having haterz on ones blog! Hooray for me! Altho...i do wish you were an actual "hater" and not just someone i actually know. yes, i know who you are. I have sitemeters and analytics and what not. so when you see me and you act all nice and happy to my face, i will know...oh yes my dear, i will know.
    but thanks for letting me know just how jelz you are of me. xoxoxooxox

  4. to anonymous if you were writing something nice would you have been anonymous? If you dont have the balls to post your name you are a want to be hater!!!!

    Adrianna I love your blogs and seening and hearing about Hendrix you keep up the amazing job!!!

  5. He is so precious. What is up with the troll!?!?! I am glad I am not the only one with a troll on their blog though.

    I love this post. Your writing is amazing. I see you in the shower (not in a creepy way). I feel you emotions. I love how you write about your feels at different times of your journey. I can't describe... I just love it!

    You rock!

  6. all good blogs have trolls.. in fact the best have some of the meanest! jealousy brings out the worst in people.
    thank you for your kind words!!

  7. You really have a way with words that just bring us into your world. Thank you for sharing it with us!!

  8. Another beautifully written post. I was so, so sorry to see that some mean, spiteful and cowardly person chose to lash out at you with their needless criticism and tactless commentary. Since reading and following blogs is purely elective, if they no longer enjoyed what you were offering, they could have simply moved on elsewhere. If they were really a friend or a fan and felt that your blog had taken a wrong turn, they could have contacted you directly and found a positive way to express that they missed some of the style from your earlier writing. Hope that whatever ills they were suffering in their life at they time misdirected their grief on you has abated and that they are in a better place mentally and spiritually.

  9. Beautifully written!! I love the "lists" but I call them "poems"

  10. This is great. I could never imagine what you went through when you gave birth to Hendrix. Everytime I read this all I want to do is go in Amaya's room and pick her up and hold her forever and never let go. That could have happened to Anthony and I and I feared that the whole pregancy. Yes I womdered how we would have reacted if something serious happened to Amaya after having her and it was the worst all I did was cry when I would think it but I could help myself. I tried to prepare myself for anything and everything but the truth is you never can because you always think it wont happen to you.

    Im just so glad that Hendrix pulled through and is as healthy as they come now. Just keep posting what you want and how and if others dont like it then thats too bad and they should just keep moving lol. I think that person who posted anonymous is rude and jealous.