By Natalie
Lincoln Thomas Poe was born Monday June 9th at 12:07am. He was 10lbs 5oz and 22in.
His birth story will come later.
Due to the nature that we don’t share much on socials I’ve been sharing details with loved ones at different times via txt this week. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep up with updates as the roller coaster week went on.
By Natalie
I haven’t known what to say or how to say it. In the beginning because I was adjusting to the shock of our miracle unassisted pregnancy, after 5 years of secondary infertility. Also because I was awfully nauseous. In the second trimester I remained silent because I still didn’t have much of a desire to write. But now.. at 30 weeks here I am and the time feels right to share this poem written for my SECOND.
By Natalie
A few weeks ago I found myself in what I felt like was an emergency situation. My mental health was deteriorating all summer and I struggled to manage until the day that one trigger blew up everything inside me. I was numb and could not deal with anything or anyone. My body had been breaking down for a while. One night in August I became unexpectedly nauseous. I was restless and unable to sleep and then I began vomiting at 3am. I had brain fog, I tried consuming more electrolytes, convinced maybe the heat of the summer was the issue. I couldn’t recall words and on top of that my irritability was spewing on everyone around me.
By Natalie
I picked Felicity up from gymnastics camp and broke the news to her.
“Today?” She asked, sitting on the passenger side in her leotard.
I nodded. “Yea baby, I’m sorry.”
She immediately started crying and climbed into my lap.
“He was a really good boy, but he was very sick.” I told her. I started crying too. It wasn’t until Brandon made a video of Bingley that we realized what a big part of Felicity’s life he was. He was her constant companion, he’d been there since we brought her home from the birth center.
By Natalie
The vet sat in front of us and assured us that we were making the right choice for our dog. “It sounds like you guys know him well and you know he’s not doing well.”
Bingley’s health began to quickly deteriorate after we found out that he had a tumor. It was difficult to accept that his time was coming but he was hardly eating anything. One night I begged him to eat something and I collapsed to the floor and hugged him. Felicity stopped what she was doing and came to me. “I’m sad because he’s very sick.” I told Lici.
By Natalie
It’s been a month since he’s been gone and it doesn’t feel real. The death of Bingley felt like a death of a part of myself. He passed peacefully at home, surrounded by his toys, his bone and Brandon and I. Because his passing was peaceful I felt ok. He wasn’t in pain anymore, we weren’t weighed by the decision of when it was time anymore, we were all going to be ok. But as the weeks drug on my mind began to shift and grieve, unfamiliar with how manage it my moods swung in a dozen different directions.
By Natalie
I think it hurts so much because the love is real.
Oh Bingley my boy.
How do I say goodbye to a best friend?
To one who I trusted to see more of my tears than anyone else?
To one who loved me unconditionally.
To one who trusted me.
To one who brought me such joy in such a time of sorrow.
By Natalie
Felicity had a week and a half off for Spring break in April. The extended time allowed her to decompress from school, get healed up from another case of strep throat, get together with friends and take a trip to Wilmington. This little NC town has been on our bucket list since we moved to Charlotte. Nestled between the Cape Fear river and the coast this historical city was pleasantly charming.
By Natalie
My sisters and I visited Puerto Rico in February.
Revisiting the island with my sisters was a sweet experience. We found healing in the waters from our homeland and discovered pieces of our identities that we didn’t know were missing. I reconnected with my sweet cousin Lourdes. We fell into lots of silly moments with each other. Dancing in the streets in San Juan, practicing our synchronized swimming in the ocean and just general quirkiness. We spent our entire childhood apart so it seemed we were making up for it in a way. It’s absolutely wild to me that this part of me was here on this Earth, miles away, our relationship dormant until I reached for it. It’s never too late.
By Natalie
Zaul,
I thought I’d write this note to you at home and send you some snail mail but I couldn’t think of anything else on my flight home from Texas so I began writing this to you on the quiet plane. But then midway through writing I started tearing up and felt quite awkward crying on a plane so I had to pause, chug my water, blow my nose and pick it up later. I’ve since taken some time to process and I felt that this was definitely something that I wanted to share with you, and I felt it deserved to be an open letter because this space and audience has become a part of my journey.