Category: Family

February is the birthday month in our family. Every birthday has a tendency to force us to stop and reflect. Austyn’s is not different. If I had been able to control nature Raun and Austyn would have been 3 years apart but as it went there four and a half years between them. I struggled for two years not knowing why I couldn’t get pregnant and when it finally happened I was thrilled.

The first doctor’s visit was the typical appointment. The call that came a day or two later was not. My blood type is AB negative and although it is rare it in itself is not an issue. What was the issue is the fact that I had already produced antibodies. In layman’s terms this means that if my blood come in contact with the babies blood the antibodies would see the baby as a disease and try to kill it. Questions were asked about Raun’s birth. Fortunately I was in the same doctor’s office so they had all my records. The doctor had already looked into that history and was alarmed that those same antibodies were also found while I was carrying Raun.

When this occurs, each birth becomes a higher and higher risk. Basically what I was being told was that Raun should have been considered a high risk and that further pregnancies be avoided. This would now classified as a high risk pregnancy, which meant visits every 2 weeks. Bi-weekly blood tests and waiting for results. I was always well informed about what we were testing for and what paths were options to us. With each test came the wait for a call, each call would reported “all is well, see you in a few days”.

During an appointment just prior to my due date I mentioned that I had noticed a lack of movement in the past day or so. Arrangements were made to be at the hospital the next day; they were planning to induce me.

The next morning we were loading the car, dropped Raun off at his best friend’s house and made our way to the hospital. I was in a large room hooked up to monitors waiting for it all to begin. It took very little time to realize that this would be the second time I was going to experience back labor. Back labor is very different, the pain never lets up and is unbearable. Once again I would be doing this with out pain killers, not by choice but because of the fear that the baby couldn’t handle it.

As the time came closer, I realized that more and more people were entering the room; my doctor and the two or three nurses from the unit, a group of about six from the NICU and a group from the nursery. The room was filling quickly. My doctor happened to have laryngitis and was whispering the entire time. It was quite the scene, twelve or more people standing against the door, I in pain trying to breath and Dr. MacDonald whispering the entire time. He informed me that he had called these two groups is so we would be prepared for anything.

In a very short time I could see Dr. MacDonald holding a precious head in his hands. One more push and I heard him say “stop pushing”. The nurses moved quickly, grabbing the cart and pulling it close to the bed.

“Clamp. Cut. Clamp, Cut. Clamp.” This seemed to go on for hours.

“Clamp.”

“Five is all we have, there are no more”, replied the nurse.

“OK, Jeannie one more push.”

At that moment, the group that was standing at the door went into action. Half left and the others made their way to the bed. Dr. MacDonald handed over this infant who was now blue. I looked back at Jeff, there was great concern on his face.

A few moments later we heard, “She’s breathing”. It was the first we knew she was a girl. Everything had gone so quickly that the reality of “she’s breathing” did not hit us until later.

We held her for just a few moments and off she went with this team of people to NICU. The next few days were very lonely. The walks to NICU were long. The unit itself seemed so bright and there were alarms going off every few moments. She was there for three days simply because she wasn’t eating.  We would be able to take her home once she began to eat.

I went home before her, another very long and lonely drive. The day we brought her home had mixed emotions. It was very apparent that we had not bonded. This could have been any baby, we had missed those first days of connecting, of becoming one. I had to make up for those lost days and I did. I laid on the sofa for the next few days as much as possible allowing Austyn to lie on my stomach. Two days later we had bonded, she belonged, she was ours.

Dr. MacDonald was very clear that some of the issues caused by this difficult birth could have long-term effects. The cord had been wrapped around her neck 5 times. There could be development issues down the road, even into her late teen years.

As we were explaining to Raun about his sister’s birth we told him that she was blue when she was born. Somehow that explanation led him to think of Smurfs, the animated television show. That has stuck all these years. Every birthday I relive that experience. I can hear the words “she’s breathing” as if Dr. MacDonald is in the room.

The Smurf baby is all grown up and going to get married. Had we known of the risk we were taking, would we have chosen to take the risk and have a second child? Probably not. Jeff and I are risk takers but not when is come to dealing with life issues. What would the world be like without Austyn? It’s unimaginable.

I cried tonight at Jake’s. Jake’s, how does one describe it? Up until the 1950s it was the corner candy store, one of those great corner locations that appear to be built in a triangle. During the 50’s the candy went away and the alcohol arrived becoming the corner bar. In fall of 2006 Jake’s received its first face-lift. In no means was this to be referred to as a remodel; it was simply a face-lift. Jake’s doesn’t serve food so dogs are allowed to join their masters at the corner pub; on a typical night customers have to step over the sleeping dog in the middle of the floor.

We discovered Jake’s shortly after moving into the city and have spent many wonderful afternoons and evenings there. Our Chicago neighborhood is very diverse not only in race but in age, income, family, single, straight, gay and Jake’s is the neighborhood hang out. When the kids returned home from traveling, Jakes is where we would sit and hear their stories. When friends come into the city, Jake’s is where we would end the evening. When family came to visit, Jake’s is where the deep philosophical discussions would run early into the next morning. If my phone rang earlier than usual on a Friday afternoon, I knew Jeff was sitting at Jake’s, his favorite way to end the week. Jake’s had become part of our lives.

There were many evenings that we would meet friends there. Jeff and I, forty-something with two grown children being invited to hang out with twenty-somethings who were trying to figure out life. I clearly recall a few nights as the conversations were flying across the table that I mentally took a step back to take it all in. Across from me was a young couple who were living together, next to me a gay couple that had just celebrated six months together which was the longest relationship that either of them had experienced and two or three college students. A few of them having no idea what they wanted to be when they “grew up.”  How did I, a preacher’s kid from a small town in Wisconsin, come to be so honored as to be included in this circle of lives? The conversations always came around to relationships and spirituality. Those are evening and conversations I will cherish for the rest of my life.

So why was tonight so emotional? Austyn and I had been discussing our reception options. With a destination wedding it is common to have small receptions back home so those who cannot attend the wedding can still be a part. There was one planned for Wisconsin where most of our extended family still live and of course there would be one in Chicago.

Chicago has many options for such an event, but the Chicago reception needed to represent our life there. We had had dinner at one of our all-time favorite restaurants across just a block from our building. A Scottish Pub named Duke of Perth and the only Scottish pub in the city of Chicago. It has the most delightful beer garden, which is perfect for a July afternoon. As we ate our food and tried to imagine what it would be like, we both agreed that it could work. Duke of Perth would truly be a memorable location for the Chicago reception. Just across the street sat Jake’s. After we finished our dinner consisting of three different appetizers, we walked into Jake’s, headed to the back of the bar and looked around…but this is Jake’s.

It’s dark, it’s simple, it has one pool table, a dartboard that sits a little too close to the bar and bar stools. There are candles that line the bar and illuminate the 5 high-tops along the sidewall, but these do more for disguising the space opposed to creating atmosphere. We sat at the bar and discussed our options. We could serve good ol’ Chicago Dogs, those are famous; we could hire a caterer. We could have a table arrayed with flowers, incredible deserts and champagne. What a great contrast; elegance at Jake’s. The thought of it made us both laugh.

As we sat talking about our plans I fast forwarded to that day, imagining what it would be like. We might still be living around the corner come July or we could be traveling 2000 miles to get here, either way it would most likely be the last time that we would all be together at Jake’s. And when that evening would end we would all be walking away from a place that held so many memories. Jake’s is the place that taught us the importance of being open, honest and non-judgmental. A place that allowed us to rid ourselves of the Sunday morning ritual of serving fellow Christians and brought us face to face with the reality of day to day real lives. The lessons I learned at Jake’s will impact me for the rest of my life.

I don’t have to imagine that day much longer for that day is approaching quickly. This place will never be duplicated. We will never experience these discussions again because life will have changed. Children will have gotten married and the four years that we spent in East Lakeview will become history.

There will be new discussions however, and when those discussions begin to recall memories, just the mention of Jake’s will bring a flood of emotions. I love our corner bar.

I am an organizer. Give me a problem and I can produce a plan that will cover all the bases. It’s how may brain works. I have apparently passed some of that on to Austyn as well. There is great fun is solving problems, putting plans together and watching them be executed. If not careful it is also a tool to use to gain and keep control, a very dangerous arena to be in. Austyn and I were both finding ourselves with huge projects, a wedding and a major move. Both need plans and both come with vague time lines which makes it feel almost impossible to plan.

It was a Friday evening when Austyn came to me with the, “I have to do something or I’m going to go crazy” conversation. “Should we start working on invitations?” I asked. The next morning I walked into Austyn’s room around 7 and she was at her computer designing. From the looks of it she had already put in a few hours. By 10:00 she presented us with the first draft.

I pulled out my pocket size wedding etiquette book to make sure the wording was correct. I wanted to make sure all the names were listed properly. The invitations read:

Because you’ve shared in their lives by your friendship and love,

we are very proud to announce the marriage of

Austyn Elizabeth

daughter of

Jeffrey & Jeannie Bruenning

to

Brian Patrick

son of

Robert & Janise Ford

Tuesday the Twenty-fourth of June, Two thousand eight

…sometime in the afternoon

Holden Beach, North Carolina

…sometime in the afternoon. That was so Austyn. My first thought went to the reception. How can I organize a reception for …sometime in the afternoon? I do believe the chief may have an issue with this. Sometime in the afternoon is how it read and that is how it would stay.

We gathered the pieces; the actual invitation, the response card, a travel information card listing hotels and websites and the envelopes. We would need a small envelope for the response card, that one should be pre-addressed. Pre-addressed to where? No one in our family had any idea what their address would be when these response cards would be sent back in. Once again we found ourselves sitting at a dinning room table laughing. What address do we use? I don’t think the etiquette book allowed phone numbers. Out of this did come the idea for Austyn and Brian to set up their own wedding website so we could expand travel suggestion, list of where they were registered; a place where could keep everyone up to date on their plans. A brilliant idea I must say.

I often compare our journey through life to the frequent cab rides we take. We all know we need to get somewhere and we can’t do it on our own. We are too tired, the distance is too far or we simply do not know how to get there. So we stand on the corner hailing a taxi. We can’t just stand there because the taxi won’t stop. We have to wave or whistle to let it be known we have the need of a taxi. We enter the back seat, no taxi driver ever let’s you drive. We state where we need to go. At that very moment we loose total control and put our full trust in the driver. Surprisingly enough, we get there. Sometimes it’s fast with horns honking, sometimes it’s a pleasant scenic ride and sometimes we are so preoccupied we are unaware of where we are. The final outcome is that we do get there.

I have a wedding to plan. My husband and I are moving across the country and my son is going to make me a grandmother. I know where I am going but I’m too tired, don’t know the way and it is just too far so I keep standing on the corner hailing taxi’s. Surprisingly enough they keep picking me up and getting me to the next point.

Sunday began just as Saturday had; maps, coffee and the Sweeney Todd soundtrack playing in the car. We made our way further north to see the elephant seals. They come up on the beach to sun themselves. It was a sight to behold; one ton seals laying ten feet below you, dead to the world.

We drove across Hwy 46. At one point I grabbed Jeff’s arm and said we had to stop. The view was breathtaking. “I can’t imagine ever being stressed when this is what you drive through everyday,” Jeff said. We continued on through wine country, imagining what it would be like to live here.

We were back at the hotel mid-afternoon. There continued to be a lot of silence. This was some of the most beautiful landscape I have ever experienced. We were both overwhelmed with the difference in lifestyle. We were to meet with a realtor on Monday. We were still moving forward, but we were not sold.

Monday afternoon as Jeff and I while driving to the realtor’s office, he finally verbalized it. “We can’t reproduce what we have in Chicago. This is going to be entirely new. We have to accept that.”

By Wednesday morning as we made our way to the airport, we had accepted it. This was going to be our new home. Most likely I would not be back until we were actually moving. Nothing about this would be easy. We love Chicago; we had planned to walk up those three flights of stairs until we could not make it on our own. We had taken to city life instantly. That was all about to change.

That evening we had dinner at the home of Jeff’s new employer and his wife. We would spend the next two days driving from town to town in hopes that we would find some place that we could call home.

We set out Saturday morning with maps, the plan was to start at the south end of the county and head north. We would stop for coffee along the way.

“How do we get to your new office?” I asked Jeff.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? Haven’t you gone there every day for the last week?”

“Yes, but I haven’t been paying attention.”

Clearly Jeff would be driving and I would be following the map. That’s how it works in our relationship. He drives and I try to figure out where we are.

The first community had no appeal at all. Actually it enhanced our anxiety. We may not have known where we would end up but it was very clear that we knew where we did not belong. I had spent time online looking at housing. We had a vague idea of pricing and I was doing my best to recall any houses I had seen in these communities.

Downtown San Luis Obispo is wonderful. There is a river walk and plenty of shopping and great food. There were people and activity. We love living in the city for that very reason, there are always people around.

We found ourselves on the north end of our journey much faster than anticipated. These communities were close together, thirty miles from end to end. Thirty miles and no traffic. We were not moving from the city to the suburbs, we were moving from the city to the country. It just so happens that this country has mountains and an ocean.

We were back at the hotel early afternoon. I went for a walk on the beach and Jeff found a laundromat to wash his clothes. There was a lot of silence that afternoon. We were both finding it very difficult to express what we were feeling.

I found the car, found the directions and backed out of the parking space. I made my way out of the parking lot, turned left on Broad in search of Tank Farm Road, interesting name for a road as well as an interesting road; a few farms, a trailer park, a few warehouses, the north side of the airport. At the next intersection was a strip mall, Starbucks and Trader Joes…a taste of home. I pulled in, went into both and felt a bit of relief. Back in the car and on my way in search of Hwy 101, the only 4 lane highway in the area.

I passed a few more farm areas, saw some cows on the hillside and chuckled as I thought about the Happy Cow commercials on TV. Highway 101 did not seem any different than the highways running through Wisconsin. This was much hillier than Wisconsin but they both had cows on the side of the road.

The road began to curve a bit, around a slight bend and there it was, breathtaking, the Pacific Ocean. There is magnificence about the west coast, the ruggedness of the rocks meeting the tranquility of the water. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road, this was beauty and I couldn’t get enough of it.

I found the exit, pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, throw my things in the room and walked to the water. The hotel sat well above the beach and the view both north and south was picturesque. I watch what I thought were the largest birds I had ever seen swimming away from the shore. Maybe they were pelicans I thought to myself, until one stood up on the surf board. The shore was lined with a small group of surfers. There was a man with waiters on fly fishing near shore and the sun was beginning to set. I found myself not only speechless but having difficulty processing all of this.

Jeff arrived shortly after. He had been traveling a lot and we had only spent 1 day together in the last 2 and a half weeks. Besides being glad to see each other we were in this beautiful place yet neither of us were sure if we could really live here.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s small,” I said.

“I know. I told you it was rural”

“I didn’t think it was this rural, but it’s magnificent.” I replied

“Yes it is.”