My new camera strap cover makes my Nikon so very fun!
Check it out: http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5889032
I upgraded to the minky soft fabric for the back side and padding, too. Totally worth it. Great customer service and high quality product!
Baby Camilo and Mommy Gigi
Jr wants to see the baby
Gigi, Camilo, and Jr
ALL kids just flock to Gigi
So peaceful
Roasty, also peaceful, and his mommy Lolo
Camilo, dreaming about milk
One month ago, my good friend Gigi gave birth to her son Camilo. He was born 6 pounds 9 ounces and 18 1/2 inches long. As you can tell from the photos, he is perfect, sweet, and beautiful. Since we were on vacation last month, I only got to meet the new addition to their family today. Nothing made me happier than seeing my dear friend holding her baby boy.
On one of the first times I met her, I remember Gigi telling me that she and her husband had been trying for a baby for quite sometime and that she was hoping it would happen soon. About a year later, Gigi became pregnant. She was the most incredibly radiant pregnant woman I had ever met. That said, she was already incredibly radiant to begin with. Anyway, we became better friends. At parties, I would always see her holding babies. No one loves babies like Gigi loves babies. She’s even a nurse who works in a neonatal intensive-care unit. There’s no better career match than that. A year ago last month, she came to Super Girl’s 3rd birthday party. Our house was bursting with kids. Gigi said she could feel her son kicking with excitement as if he wanted to join in on the action. She, as usual, was glowing with the healthy beauty of a woman about to hold her newborn baby in her arms for the first time.
A few days later, she went to a routine check up in her 37th week of pregnancy. Her doctor told her that unfortunately, the baby did not have a heartbeat. In one instant, my friend’s life was changed forever. Little Tyler was no longer living and growing inside her. I can’t even imagine what Gigi and her husband Zaldy went through during that time. Not only were their dreams of a family torn apart, but they were left to deal with a new reality. What’s next? Will I have to deliver this baby? Why did this have to happen?
A few days later, on May 2, 2008, Gigi gave birth to her baby Tyler – a stillbirth. He was five pounds and eleven ounces. I’m sure it was and is the hardest day of their lives. They had to say hello and goodbye to their firstborn son in the span of 24 hours. Gigi says she can’t even remember her friend helping to make keepsake baby hand and foot imprints for them or the photographer capturing images of Tyler that will later become their only visual memory of their child. Tyler was beautiful and angelic. Zaldy and Gigi were able to spend time with Tyler, to hold him, to love him, knowing that at some point soon, they would have to let him go.
When I found out what happened, I felt a deep visceral sadness for their loss. I wrestled with questions of my own. How could something like this happen to such wonderful people? Why an innocent baby? I had a hard time sleeping for a few weeks just thinking about how they were doing amidst it all. I prayed for them. I also began doing research online on stillbirths because I honestly didn’t know much about it. I found some helpful sites that had good information about how best to be a friend to someone who has lost a child.*
Through all the pain of losing Tyler, Gigi just wanted to get pregnant again. A new baby could never replace her son, but somehow, it would make life more bearable. She was also angry with God for allowing this to happen to her. Even though she doubted, she kept talking to God and praying despite her anguish. In her darkest hours, God provided His strength and pulled Gigi through. Perhaps in her determination to move forward past the void in her heart, Gigi became pregnant less than two months after Tyler’s birth.
We were all so happy to hear the news. We also learned that lab results came back from Tyler’s autopsy. It showed that he wasn’t able to receive all the nutrients he needed since there was a placental infarction.
Placental infarcts are scarred areas of the placenta caused by inadequate blood supply. They are strongly associated with pregnancy-induced hypertension (PIH) and withth-restricted babies. Several studies have found a direct correlation between the degree of PIH and the amount of infarction of the placenta – see Udainia et al (2004) . Infarcts are also found in 25 – 30% of normal, term pregnancies and as long as they do not cover a large amount of the placental surface, they are not normally associated with any problems in these cases. However, infarcts are found in nearly all cases of moderate or severe PIH. grow
No one really knows why an infarction occurred in Gigi’s case. It’s difficult not to wonder about the “what ifs.”
After nine months of speculation and vigilance, Tyler’s baby brother Camilo was born. Gigi and Zaldy’s empty arms are now filled with the warmth of a sweet baby boy. Just as their lives were changed one year ago on a lonely night in May, their world would never be the same again after that wondrous day in April.
Congratulations, Gigi and Zaldy. May the good Lord watch over Tyler Matthew in heaven and over your family on earth. We love you.
![IMG_1819[1]](http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3646/3506247011_ceaecc44d6.jpg)
April 8, 2009
Zaldy and Gigi’s bedroom
The following is a poem that Zaldy wrote the day after the stillbirth:
Baby Tyler will always be remembered
* If you or someone you know has had a stillbirth or lost a child, you may find these websites helpful:
http://blog.mom4life.com/mom_4_life/
http://wenatcheeworld.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20080125/FAM/1344742
Vicki Peterson, Me (The Chinese Bangle), Debbi Peterson, and Susanna Hoffs
Wow, where do I even start? As you can see, I managed to meet the Bangles and take a photo with them tonight. It was pretty frickin’ sweet. I’ve been a huge fan since my teens and this was definitely surreal and very cool. A BIG thanks goes out to my hubby and our friend J who watched three kids until 11pm! Sadly, my dear friends L and M now know what a stalker I am. Oh yeah, here’s their picture, too:
Six Bangles
Okay, let me backtrack a bit. I heard that the Bangles were coming to the local fair months ago. Having lived here for 5 years, I had only been to the fair years ago as a reporter (doing stories on 4H kids and the animals they were raising, etc.). I knew that I definitely wanted to go to the concert. L and M were on board early on. In fact, we even launched into our own rendition of “Manic Monday.” I think the Bangles played that song tonight, but we were about half an hour late to the concert. We were coming from a nice, intimate gathering for L’s birthday celebration at the country club.
Happy Birthday, L!
After delicious pasta, salad, and champagne cake, L, M, and I took off for the fair (thanks for coming with me, guys!). I changed into my “Bangle On” tee which I designed online and ordered a few weeks ago. See? I really am a stalker. I actually didn’t think I was that big a fan anymore. I used to belong to the girls’ fan club as a teen. I even had a few “Bangle Pals” (I had a small blurb in one of their monthly Bangles N Mash newsletters with my name and address and other fans wrote to me). However, when I woke up this morning, I said to myself, “I really want a picture with the Bangles. I am going to meet them and take a picture with them.”
So, everything just fell in place after that. We got a parking spot right in front of the entrance to the fair. It’s opening day and it was crowded so that spot was awesome, especially since I was walking with two preggo ladies. Then, we found three seats in the second set of bleachers center stage.
As L and M listened to the songs, I was walking around trying to see how I could finagle a meeting. By the way, someone actually mistook L for Susanna Hoffs after the show! Anyway, one of the security guards let me take a few pictures in the front row, but since there weren’t any empty seats, I had to leave the area. I then befriended some cops. They were looking at my shirt so I stopped by their lookout spot and told them that I wasn’t a stalker or crazy fan, I just liked the Bangles’ music. They were really nice and said they were fans, too.
Then, I magically stumbled onto the guy selling Bangles merchandise who also happened to be the nephew of the lead singer Susanna Hoffs! He’s actually the nephew of Jay Roach, Susanna’s husband and the director/producer of the Austin Power movies and Meet the Parents/Meet the Fockers. Justin was pretty cool so we talked and hung out for a bit. He told me that I had a 10 percent chance of meeting them. It turns out that ten was all I needed. 
The trick was to wait for the Bangles manager to come to the merchandise booth and then ask to meet the band. Well, before he arrived, the concert ended and Justin was inundated with fans. It got so bad that the security guard (a big black bodyguard type guy who remembered me from my TV days four years ago! – “You’re Lois Lane. You need to get back on the air. They need you.”) told me that I should help Justin out. So, I marched myself and my big a#* backpack over to the table and just started selling t-shirts for $20, CD’s for $15, and autographed DVD’s for $30. Hilarious. Ridiculous right? M took pictures:
“That’ll be $20, sir.”
One girl even wanted to buy the shirt that I was wearing! As I was “working,” the cops I talked to earlier came by and said, “I thought you said you weren’t a stalker, and now you’re working their booth!” They got a nice chuckle out of that. Finally, when the manager John came over, Susanna’s nephew said, “Lois has been so awesome. She’s been helping me sell some of the t-shirts and merchandise.” John said he NEVER let anyone meet the band after shows since they do “meet-and-greets” before their performances, but he’d make an exception for us.
So, we went backstage and waited for the Bangles. After chatting with the manager and their male keyboardist for a while, Vicki, Debbi, and Susanna came out to meet us. They were really nice. I even got a hug from Vicki (”A hug? For you, sure!”) after the other girls left for their car. They loved my t-shirt and were impressed that I knew a lot of their obscure songs. Their manager said, “This is Lois. She goes way back with your music.” Vicki didn’t believe him so she quizzed me. She said, “How far back?” I said, “Back to the bassist Annette.” Annette was one of the original band members who played with them on their first album. To that, Vicki said, “Wow, that is far back.” I thanked them for meeting with us and said that we know they’re tired and want to drive back home to L.A. so we would just take a quick photo with them and be out of their way. I told them that I had two kids at home and that one was not feeling well. Debbi asked me how old they were and then said, “Three and one? Oh, bless their hearts. Hope your little one feels better.”
M and L were nice enough to let me take a picture with the group by myself. I said to the group, “I like to think of myself as the fourth Bangle (the fourth Bangle Michael Steele left the band in 2003). You guys need a Chinese Bangle!” Then, everyone laughed as Justin snapped the picture.
I got a chance to tell the Bangles that their music was such an integral part of my life growing up, that my favorite album is “Everything,” and that Vicki is a brilliant songwriter. I feel as if I was able to close a teenage chapter in my life; like somehow, I revisited my youth and gave the inner adolescent fan a gift of meeting her favorite band. Bangle On!
Pics: http://www.flickr.com/photos/superha/sets/72157607356606771/show/
Videos:
Manic Monday (Prince wrote this for them)
Eternal Flame (a classic)
In Your Room (groovy)
Walk Like An Egyptian (the height of their popularity)
If She Knew What She Wants (I’ve always liked this song)
Hazy Shade of Winter (rocking out)
Walking Down Your Street (another semi hit)
Going Down to Liverpool (Leonard Nimoy?)
Be With You (my mom took my sister and me to this concert at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium in 1989 – we might be in the crowd shots, but why do they keep zooming in on Susanna’s butt? )
Something That You Said (their newer stuff)
My dear son,
Today, you turned one. ONE! You’re just a baby so you have no idea the power of the love I have for you, but I hope you can feel it. When Daddy and I decided to have a baby, he really wanted a boy. When your sister came along, he found out that he really wanted a girl. When we decided to have a second baby, Daddy was happy with either a son or a daughter. But, Mommy really wanted a boy and here you are. You are 24 pounds of cute and I love every chubby little ounce of you.
You might wake up just as often as your sister did during the night, but you are the easiest to put down. I literally just plop you on the bed and walk away. Thank you for that. You have no idea how much I appreciate that from the standpoint of a mom who had to tiptoe away from her first baby (yeah I’m talking ’bout you, Ash).
When I look down at your face and you’re sleeping so peacefully in my arms, I realize that you are home. And, I know that I am the only home you’ve ever known. From your nest inside my belly to my arms that are now your pillow, you are home when you’re with me. And along with your sister and your dad, you are my home, too.
One day, you’ll be a big man with your own ideas and opinions. But, along the way, I’ll try my best to teach you without suppressing your own unique character. In the end, I hope you’ll become someone who is happy with himself each morning when he looks in the mirror and each night when he goes to bed.
May you one day be the kind of guy who always opens doors for people.
May you offer a girl your coat when you see that she is cold.
May you be a gentleman and pay for your date’s dinner, but be wise enough to know when you shouldn’t.
When your girl would rather go barefoot after a night of carefree dancing, may you hold her strappy heels just like your daddy held mine.
When it comes time to make a promise, make sure with all your heart, that you keep it.
About rings, go big on the diamond, but not so big that it robs the ring of its class.
By all means, get down on one knee to propose… even when it’s pouring rain. I mean it.
Be the kind of man your daughter would be proud of and your son would want to grow up to become.
Don’t listen too closely to what other people say or have.
Give freely, especially to those you love.
Live by the motto of the great grandmother you never met: “If I can make someone else’s life easier by helping them, then that makes me happy.”
And, at the end of your journey, may you have no regrets.
But for now, as long as you still fit so perfectly in my arms… as long as you can still lie on top of me as you nurse to sleep… as long as I’m still taller than you… I promise to love you and appreciate you every day I’m lucky enough to have you.
Congratulations, Son.
You’re one, Baby Guy. ONE! We love you.
(outline of this letter typed one handed as you’re lying in my arms nursing)
My So-Called Cooking Demonstration
Ever since I can remember, my mom has been cooking up delicious Chinese food for our family. The smell of soy sauce, ginger, and spices filled the air each and every night in our house. As I got older, I realized that I definitely did NOT inherit my mom’s culinary expertise. Living on my own in college, I relied on ramen, sandwiches, and take-out. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t for lack of trying. I’ve ventured into the kitchen a few times, and someday… someday… I will succeed. But you don’t really want to hear my stories about success. No, you’re here for the tales of concoctionary (I just made up a word – yay!) woe.
Well, this one time, at band camp when it comes to even the basics, I was a cooking retard. I honestly couldn’t make a soft boiled egg. It was either too runny or too hard, never the way I like it. I usually just cooked enough to get by. You know, spaghetti every once in a while or eggs in the morning. Well, several years after living on my own while working as a television anchor, I got a call from a local Asian American festival organizer wanting local (quasi) celebrities to do a cooking demonstration at their upcoming festival. I panicked and called my boyfriend, who’s now my husband, and asked him what I should do. He gave me his mom’s super easy “ro mee fan” sticky rice recipe which turned out to be anything but easy. Anyway, I ended up giving a demonstration on what not to do. Here’s an old blog post that I wrote about that experience and a so-called “square chicken” incident .
HA CAN’T COOK
This above photo is of me doing a cooking show. Yes, you read it correctly. The self-proclaimed “Kitchen Disaster” showed a room full of people how to make “ro mee fan”, a Chinese rice dish. Trust me, it wasn’t my idea. Organizers of the Asian Celebration in Eugene, Oregon asked a few local television personalities of Asian decent (all three of us) to demonstrate how to make their favorite entree. I was just glad they didn’t call it “The Oriental Celebration”. So, I called my mom and asked if she knew an easy recipe that I couldn’t mess up. Of course, she said “I don’t know, I just add stuff – I don’t really measure things out”. Yeah, easy for you to say if you just add “stuff” and it miraculously tastes like heaven. For me, I need to follow recipes to the tee because rarely do my substitutions actually result in something edible.
So then I thought of my boyfriend at the time and the super delicious sticky rice that he made for me quite often. Ben said it was his mom who taught him how to make it. Then I called her and asked for her secret recipe. Ben’s mom actually told me how to make it and I copied it down copiously. Ben also gave me a crash course in how to make it. But learning how to make it and teaching it to others are two entirely different creatures.
I was hoping that there would be three or four people who read the program and wanted to attend my class (actually, I thought that I would have a small portable stove in the middle of a busy fairground so that I would blend in to all the other crafts and things going on). I certainly didn’t want the dozens and dozens of people there who actually showed up – to a big classroom nonetheless. I was freaking out because there was a camera on me, a wok cam filming the “action” from above, two monitors for the audience to look at, and a mic clipped to my red blazer broadcasting every uncertain word from my lips. For a culinary aficionado, this would have been paradise – to have your own cooking class for showcasing your talent. As for me, I was just hoping to get out alive.
I started off with a brief introduction and the crowd was quite friendly and responsive. I guess they really thought they were going to learn something. Then, as I explained that this would only be the second time that I was going to make the “ro mee fan”, the room fell silent. I think I would have been happy to hear crickets, but they knew better than to show up to my cooking demonstration. So, no crickets, no pin drops, no nuthin’. Just me… and a wok.
I decided that humor would be my best weapon against these judgmental, I-can-cook-and-you-can’t eyes (self-deprecating humor works well when it’s true). I simply told them that if I could make this rice dish, so could they. I also ended up burning the rice so it became a course in what not to do. The first few jokes garnered a laugh or two, but God must have been smiling down on me that day because by the end of my 30 minute sweat fest, everyone was laughing, enjoying themselves, and asking questions. I was so relieved that I found a way to talk myself out of a potentially image-tarnishing situation. Whoa. So, that was the last time I tried to teach anyone how to cook something. Sorry SuperGirl, you’ll be learning the fine art of baking, broiling, and blanching from your Daddums or Grandmas or Auntie Sarah (or Uncle Jason and Aunt Michelle).
I was reminded of that story tonight because I just bought a slow cooker cookbook. I decided to make pot roast with mushroom sauce and vegetables for dinner tomorrow. As I was preparing the ingredients, I decided to re-read the instructions. Good thing I did because I almost chopped up the pot roast into squares. It didn’t occur to me that pot roast should be cooked intact inside the crock pot. Who knew? Just to be certain, I looked up “pot roast” on dictionary.com. It says “a dish of meat, usually brisket of beef or chuck roast, stewed in one piece in a covered pot and served in its own gravy”. You learn something new every day.
Since I’m airing out all my embarrassing cooking stories, I probably shouldn’t leave this one out. Only recently have I allowed Ben to tell this story. Here goes. About two years ago, I went to Albertson’s to buy some chicken. The whole chicken was ridiculously cheap… something like .57 cents a pound. The same chicken sold all cut up was $1.99 a pound. Of course, I was going to buy the cheaper bird. But just before I left the butcher’s area, I asked a nice young guy if he could cut up my chicken for me. “Sure” he says, “how do you want me to cut it?” What? How does he want me to cut it? I hadn’t thought of that. “Ummm…. into little squares?,” I reluctantly offer as I hold up my hands to show a square the size of a mini-Rubik’s cube. That’s when the über nice guy said “Yeahhhhh… okay… how about if I cut some drumsticks, thighs, and breast pieces for you?” I was relieved that he offered another suggestion so I said “Sounds good to me”. I was happy the nice man gave me cut-up chicken for the price of uncut. Unfortunately, I later realized the retard-o factor of that conversation when I told Ben what happened at the grocery store. Ben was in disbelief. “You said what?… squares?”. He laughed so hard… then he laughed some more. D’oh. This is why I think eating out is so alluring.
“This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as part of a contest sponsored by the American Egg Board.” Hope I win! I could really use the help. I’m truly the poster child for bad chefs everywhere!
Me, July 1999 in Eugene, Oregon (It’s Love Thursday over at Shutter Sisters )
Flowers from My SuperHusband
Happy Love Thursday and Valentine’s Day, everyone!
For more Love Thursday photos, click here:
http://shuttersisters.com/home/2008/2/14/love-thursday-february-14th-2008.html
Our Love
My engagement ring and wedding band… symbols of the love between my husband and me. I wear it daily, I feel it always.
For more Love Thursday photos, click here:
http://shuttersisters.com/home/2008/2/7/love-thursday-february-7th-2008.html
Wearing my baby has never been so much fun and painless!
If any of you internets out there is thinking of buying a sling for your newborn, infant, or toddler, I highly recommend Mod Mum’s sturdy, practical, and stylish slings. They come in a variety of designs. Since I’m currently in love with the color brown, their “Lily” sling was my favorite (pictured above). My five month old sits comfortably inside and he’s happy as a clam. I love the durability of the fabric and the reinforced edges which makes the carrier that much more plush for your baby. My 2 1/2 year old likes to sit on my hip in it. The sling supports up to 35 pounds. The first thing I noticed about the sling is that it’s actually nicer than it looks in the photos… and the photos are pretty nice! If you purchase the sling, I think you’ll agree that it’s a sound investment that pays off in the form of a happy baby snugly nestled next to his or her mommy. Thanks to MomViews.net for sending this sling to me after their big scavenger blog hunt party last year. Junior really enjoys his “bed.”
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