Posted on by shirindawna

normal girls are boring.

i’ve noticed something about myself. i hold off on writing about health scares until there’s some kind of ending. some neat resolution to wrap it all up in a bow. it’s easier that way, isn’t it? you wait until the answers come, tuck the panic into a little box, and move on with your life. today, i don’t have that luxury. there’s no bow, no resolution. this week has been brutal. we’re stuck in the gut-wrenching space where everything is just…uncertain. everything is a question, and every answer feels like smoke slipping through your fingers. “it might be nothing, but it could be something.” and this time, it’s not me in the hot seat. it’s him. my husband.

people keep saying, “don’t worry, it’s probably fine.” i know they mean well, and maybe they’re right (oh please, let them be right). but i’ve heard those words before. they said it about my dad, and it wasn’t fine. they said it about me, and it wasn’t fine then, either.

so, here i am, stuck in this messy middle, the space between hope and fear, where every second feels heavier than the last. my mind’s racing, and i’m rationing my energy like it’s the last bit of air in the room. i’m careful, so careful, about who i let in. i know one wrong word could send me spiraling, and i can’t afford that right now.

i hate this part. the uncertainty. the waiting. all of it. 

Posted on by shirindawna

addicted to the if only.

i find myself standing at the crossroads, not knowing which path to take. the weight of the decision about another pregnancy feels immense. recently, i found myself back at the fertility clinic, and now, the reality of what lies ahead is sinking in…

there’s a part of me that yearns for another child, another heartbeat to love and nurture. the idea of expanding our family, of watching our children grow up together, fills me with a sense of hope and excitement. i can picture the laughter, the chaos, the endless moments of joy.

but then, there’s the other side of the coin. the fear, the uncertainty, the what-ifs that haunt my thoughts. the journey to this point hasn’t been easy. infertility, cancer, the emotional roller coaster—it all leaves scars, seen and unseen.

…sitting in the clinic, the sterile smell, the quiet hum of machines. the doctor’s words were a mix of optimism and caution. it’s possible.

there’s a risk.

there’s a chance.

there’s no guarantee.

and so, i’m conflicted. my heart and my head are in a tug-of-war. do we risk the heartbreak, the potential for more pain? or do we hold on to what we have, cherish the life we’ve built, and accept that it might be enough?

sometimes, i wish for a clear sign, something to point me in the right direction. but life doesn’t work that way. it’s messy and uncertain, and sometimes, there are no clear answers.

weighing the pros and cons feels like trying to balance on a tightrope. i think about our past struggles, the tears, the sleepless nights, the endless waiting. can i put myself through that again? can i put us through that again?

yet, there’s that small, persistent voice inside me, whispering about possibilities, about hope. it reminds me of the strength we’ve found in each other, the resilience that’s carried us this far.

so here i am, at this crossroads, feeling the full weight of the decision. it’s not just about another pregnancy; it’s about our future, our family, our dreams.

as we navigate this uncertainty, i remind myself to breathe, to take it one day at a time. whatever we decide, it will be with love and hope at the core.

maybe the answer will come in a moment of quiet clarity, or maybe it will be a series of small steps leading us to where we’re meant to be.

for now, i hold on to the love we have, the strength we’ve shown, and the belief that, no matter what, we will find our way through.

Posted on by shirindawna

resting in peace.

sometimes the universe protects you from yourself.

once someone is no longer your life, it’s hard to admit that maybe they weren’t perfect…like by remembering them honestly, instead of perfectly you somehow tarnish their memory.

it was sad at first to think that i’d be raising my little one alone. and that she’d never know her dad. especially when mine was such a huge part of my life…and the person who shaped me.

…but after he was long gone, little things came to light. things that make me realize that even if he was still around, he may not be the best influence for my little one. and she deserves the best.

(no, i don’t know if it’s a girl. i’m just guessing that my affinity for pink runs through my blood. and so, i expect a girl. or a boy that loves pink)

i’m confident that i’ll be able to provide sweet pea with all the love she needs. and i’m certain that even without her father around, she’ll be showered in tons of love.

it’s disappointing to realize that he wasn’t the person i thought he was…but since he is no longer around it feels like i’m somehow expected to preserve his memory. maybe that’s an unrealistic expectation that i’m placing on myself, but i want my little one to feel loved. and she is.

in the end, it isn’t about him – or me – or what expectations and hopes there were for the future. since his expiration and the news of my little bundle, all i feel is joy. and hope. and love. and that’s all she needs. (besides my boob. which ironically, he enjoyed as well… too soon?)

anyway, he’s gone. resting in peace.

and here i am, exactly where i’m supposed to be. the twinkle in my eye is now a little sweet pea that i get to carry around all day.

i’ve never felt more love than i do when i think of my nugget… and i have no clue how i went this long without her (OR HIM! ;)) i can’t imagine how incredible it will be when i finally get to meet my little angel.

Posted on by shirindawna

life & death.

one year after losing my baba, it really is a matter of life & death. as i prepare to bring my first little into the world, i am missing my dad more than ever.

in his last few months, he promised me he would stick around to meet his grand babies. and the thing is, i know he’s keeping his word. i feel him with me and around me more than ever before…it may sound absurd, but the feeling of love, peace, and protection seems to have amplified since discovering i am fulfilling not only my greatest wish, but my dad’s as well.

before i ever knew i was pregnant i had dreams of my dad telling me how thrilled he was to finally be a grandpop. dreams that were hilarious to me at the time because i had no idea they were my reality…

i don’t believe in coincidences and i firmly believe that there is some divine intervention at work here. the universe always keeps a balance. i had an inkling that having my own child would somehow reconnect me with my dad, i just never knew how comforting or peaceful it would be.

he taught me to look up when things got tough. see the sky, drink in the world, work hard, play hard and believe that who you are is good enough. if someone doesn’t like it – then that’s their malfunction. on this first anniversary of my dad’s passing, i remember, with gratitude, my dad.

he loved us with the fiercest devotion i’ve ever witnessed. unconditional love, for life and beyond. i knew that then, and i feel it now.

as an adult, when i reflect on the people and places that make up my memories, i know that his was the single greatest influence on me. i have his eyes, his nose, his lips, and his ability to love, but that’s not what i mean…

he introduced me to art in all its forms. from beethoven’s 9th to the writings of shakespeare and poe; to the rugged majesty of athletes, as well as the magic of the theatre…no medium escaped his interest.

my dad stayed curious. he got older, but his spirit never did. it lit up a room until his dying day. his example is a legacy i aspire to.

i miss you everyday, dad.

while celebrating the life of the person i loved most, i am beyond happy to welcome a new addition to our family. it may not be father’s day to the whole world, but it is for me…a day of remembrance and gratefulness.

i can’t wait to shower my little sweet pea with the unconditional love that you provided me.

Posted on by shirindawna

forever.

my first father’s day without baba isn’t sad. it’s somehow uplifting. and full of possibility. and light. and hope.

it was an interesting week. i found myself in the emergency room, alone. and reached for my phone over and over again to call my dad. he was always my ‘go-to,’ my hero, my savior, my mentor…my dad, my baba. living without his physical presence has been an interesting ride. one that’s made me stronger. and somehow softer too.

my heart swelled today when someone i don’t know very well (but i’d like to 😉 ) called to check on me and make sure i was doing okay. it’s little things that show a person’s character. and i’m thankful for all the characters in my life.

i’m fortunate that for 31.5 years i had the best baba i could’ve ever dreamt up (that’s saying A LOT, i have quite the imagination). and while my heart aches when i think about him not being able to walk me down the aisle when i get married or my children not getting to meet the man who made me into the person i am today – i am utterly grateful for the time i got to spend with him. baba’s death is a blow that i am still recovering from almost a year later. while visiting my dad at his final resting place today, i shed some (read: many) tears…and it was cleansing. coming up on a year of living without him is surreal.

it’s funny how it takes absence to focus the lens of eternity on a life. i can tell you that with every passing day that hindsight becomes clearer; the guy offering me the delicious tomatoes from his greenhouse as he toiled in the backyard and the man that made me cry by gushing over how proud he was of me at the most inopportune moments will always hold the most precious of places in my heart.

throughout this heartbreaking year, there were times when i felt so alone…i took to journaling how i felt to be able to process my emotions and thoughts. while my pain and feelings flowed onto the page, i found my words directed from my journal to my father. i was basically giving him an update on what was happening. letters to my dad.

my heart felt better after that. in some unexplainable way, i felt his presence. i think those moments taught me that while he isn’t physically on earth to help me deal with life’s ups and downs, his spirit is still here, watching over me.

it is thought that when we lose someone to death, we lose that person forever. but i’ve opened my mind to keep cultivating the relationship, even after death, because the people we love and who hold our hearts will always be with us.

if my dad taught me anything, it was: love is everything. it is such a powerful emotion. love doesn’t die when someone does; and vice-versa, our love for them doesn’t end just because they aren’t there physically. death ends a life, not a relationship.

my brother and i also grow closer, while also teaching each other about strength, family bonds and healing…sometimes, my brother and i remark, “i wish daddy got to see this.” we talk about how our dad would have been so happy to be with us on certain days. but we also knew that he IS happy and he IS there on those days… it’s something i feel now more than ever. by recognizing he is still with us no matter what, we learn to honor him. we honor his memory by living the happy lives we know he would have wanted for us. by keeping him in mind (and always in heart), i feel like he is looking out for us everyday.

even though i can’t feel him squeeze me as i walk through his front door, i feel him in my heart. and the truth is, proximity doesn’t indicate closeness.

happy dad’s day, baba.
i know you’re with me forever.