Phoenix Rising

Today felt different. I was happy playing with Asher for the first time since losing Selah. I really enjoyed laughing with him. We had 2 unexpected visitors and both warmed my heart. I didn't think I was ready, but it felt good to converse with people.

But now as I'm settling down for bed, I'm feeling sad again. I miss Selah. The darkness isn't there, nor is the heaviness, but the hurt is. The emptiness is. The pang of sorrow when I hear about others excitement about pregnancy and babies is. I just miss Selah so much. She was taken too soon from my life. I feel like such a little girl for saying this, but it's just not fair. I can't say anything else, but how much I miss her tonight. I wish I was able to feel her kicking me once again. I wish I could feel how velvety soft her skin was again.

I miss you baby girl. I'll miss you 'til the day I die.

Sitting in the waiting room sucked. There was only 1 woman, but of course she was majorly pregnant, which didn't really bother me until the DO came out to talk to her about her c-section tomorrow and I had to sit there and hear how bloody excited she was and how she couldn't wait to see his face and meet him and name him...I left. I couldn't stand to hear her excitement. I understood it...but I couldn't hear it. So I waited in the hallway until she left, then I walked back in.

The appointment was actually pretty meaningless with the exception that we talked about genetic counseling. They still haven't received the results back from Selah's samples. I learned that they gave her a gross autopsy, which means, they checked her, the umbilical cord and the placenta out, but no cuts were made to look inside of her. Our doctor will call as soon as she gets the results back.

As far as our genetic counseling, we talked about starting with Steve because it's so expensive. And our doctor thinks it's probably coming on his side since we carried Asher to term without complication. But after I talked to the insurance agent, it looks like it'll be covered 100% so I think we'll both get tested right away...Now the right away part is hard...Steve already has his appointment made, but it's not until early February. Which I guess is OK, since we wouldn't want to try again for a baby until late spring, but I'd like to get the ball rolling, especially if we need to use in-vitro.

So yea, in-vitro...we're all just guessing at this point...but if it's a problem with Steve's x chromosome carrying sperm, we could use in-vitro to pick out his y sperm and create another boy. We could also do the old fashion method and 'eliminate' any girls once conceived...but since that's totally against what we believe in, we've chosen against that method. In-vitro kind of freaks me out a bit...but if we want another biological child, that may be our only option...but again, this is all just speculation at this point.

Also, I haven't really mentioned this, but there were a lot of things that were discussed with us and memorials made for Jorai, that never happened with Selah. Out of the 3 nurses we had, and all 3 were wonderful, none of them had heard about NILMDTS. I wanted to send L&D some great literature and sites after Jorai passed, but I never did. Now with Selah and having such different experiences, I want to do something. So, I asked my doctor if I wanted to send Labor and Delivery a letter, could I send it through her and she actually stated that there were things she wanted to talk to them about too and that maybe we could set up a meeting with them. So, that's pretty cool. I need to get my stuff together...a lot of it already exists and a great site is already made, called whispered support, but I want to get more info and maybe help them, if they want, develop procedures so all families get the same mementos and advice. So yeah, that was it. I wasn't examined....We got little news about Selah and just speculation about genetic counseling, but at least the ball is rolling.


I've had a few hard days in a row now. I just feel this heavy burden on my shoulders. I feel weighed down and even my shoulders slump forward with imaginary weights pushing down on me. I want to feel normal again. I want to feel some sense of joy. I want to get back into the world and see friends and talk to friends, but there's just something pushing me down, something stopping me. My cheeks hurt from the pressure of a permanent frown that's plastered on my face. Smiles come when Asher's being a wild man or surprising me in the shower...but they mostly elude me. I want to feel happiness again. I know it will return. I know it will come soon. I already feel a little normalcy returning, but it's hard.

I think one of the hardest parts is just being in this world where normal is happening all around me. And I feel as if I'm stuck in Ecclesiates where it says "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."...meaningless! meaningless!" everything is meaningless.". When you lose someone...or at least when I lose someone, everything you normally do, everything the people around you are doing is so meaningless. You can't watch tv or have everyday conversations with people because it's all so bloody meaningless. The world as you know it has changed, so you try to make sense of it or find your new normal, but it eludes you for days, weeks...maybe months...so you try to live in this new life and deal with things that are so utterly meaningless, but that normally would be meaningful...and it's just so hard. So you stay in the confines of your house, wishing you could muster the strength to call a friend or visit a friends, but again, the strength eludes you.

I kinda feel as if I'm drowning. I want to be saved, but there's no one there to save me. Just a darkness that seems to surround me. At times I can see the light, but then the fog settles back in and I'm left alone...and I'm not alone...but no one can help, if that makes sense. And yes...I can read the comments already...'go to God'...'He can help'...'trust Him'....blah, blah, blah...I'm not there yet. And truthfully, I don't want His help at the moment. So maybe it's my own fault I feel this way, I don't know. But that's how I feel.

Conflicted....I want to see people, but I don't. I want to talk to people, but I don't...I want people to talk to me about Selah, but it's almost too hard...want to reach out, but I can't...totally and utterly conflicted. I hope this fog passes soon.

Tomorrow I have my first post baby appointment. I'm not sure if they'll already have the test results back from Selah or not, but I'm nervous. I'm nervous to hear what our fate may be. We'll still need to do our genetic counseling, which is another big conversation we'll have tomorrow as well. It's just all so scary. I mean, could it just be a supplement that maybe I need to start taking? Could I really try to get pregnant again and have a successful pregnancy and delivery? Or is it fatal...Will nothing we do help? Is it just a girl thing? Or was Asher just a miracle baby? So many questions and they all seem so scary to me. So many of my hopes are riding on test results and doctor's opinions. I always thought that finding the right man to marry was the hard part...or maybe the getting pregnant part...now I'm realizing that for us, it's keeping our babies alive.

I'm just so nervous about tomorrow. So in an effort to really try to hold onto the positives in my life I think I need to make a list.

Things I'm grateful for:

1. Steve. Steve is seriously the most amazing man and husband I have ever known. He is so supportive and loving and gentle and patient. I am very blessed to not only call him my husband, but more importantly, my friend.
2. Asher. What a joy. What a breath of fresh air and what a bundle of love. He is fulfilling me in ways I never knew were possible. He's been a lifesaver.
   
3. Family. My family and Steve's family have been so supportive and so loving. Without them, I think we would crumble. At least, I know I would a bit.
   
4. Friends and blog followers. We are continually surrounded by letters and emails and texts and food and love and support. I never knew that we could feel so loved and supported.
   

So my list is short right now...and I know I should be grateful for so many more things, but for now, 4 is good.

I've been thinking a lot about this statement. So many people use it. I've used it. I used to think it was biblical, but from what I can tell...it's really not. In 1 Corinthians 10:13 it says

'But remember that the temptations that come into your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will keep the temptation from becoming so strong that you can't stand up against it. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you will not give in to it.'

But that's temptation...not bad things happening. So unless, proven otherwise, I think the above quote is crap. Total and utter crap. If it's not, then explain suicide? Why do people end it all when things get too tough? I mean, if God truly only gives us what we can handle, then why for some, is it their breaking point? And why when people go through shitty stuff, do Christians tell them to read Job? Is it to make them feel like crap for being so weak and yelling at God? Is it to prove that they're sucky Christians? I mean, aren't they telling you that if Job can go through all the loss and humiliation that he did and still have faith and love and honor for God, then by all means, so should you?

Job always makes me feel like shit. Before any of my losses, I loved that book. I mean what an extraordinary man of faith! How cool is that! I used to think that if I could be an eighth as strong as he was, than I would be happy. But then when Jorai passed, I was told to read through it. That it would help me. Yea. For me, and I know it could be wonderful for others...but for me, it only made me feel worse.

I've really had a hard time with the loss of Selah. It's been so different than with Jorai. Some things are a bit easier, but there are so many things that are harder. Although I was gutted when Jorai passed and I was mad and sad and had a lot of choice words to say to Christ, I quickly started to believe that maybe He needed Steve and I to go through our loss to help others. I started to think that maybe I could be used, to help others, be a comfort, help hospitals with resources or grow a garden at the church for a safe place to mourn or remember. And as much as I still ached for Jorai, I found comfort in the way I could reach out to others and be there as not many others can be. But then we lost Selah, I just thought why? I mean, did he seriously need to take Selah? Couldn't we help people with only our loss with Jorai. Selah? Really? I seriously think this is just some cruel joke. I have a hard time truly seeing this but sometimes I wonder if He's laughing up there? I know I sound horrible to say these things, as part of my heart knows He loves me and aches for my pain, but there's another part that truly feels these things. And if I'm being honest at all, I need to get them out.

I keep hearing how he loves us and how we need to trust him. At Christmas I was suppose to honor Him and celebrate Him, but how can I? How can I trust Him? How can I feel His love? How can He love us so much and take away not 1, but 2 of our babies? It's just so hard. I want to scream. And how can I feel so damn conflicted about it too? How can I feel a love for God and guilty for being so mad at him...while at the same time an overpower sense of anger and retaliation?

I know it sounds horrible to even compare the two, but I keep thinking about loving a murderer. How do you do that. Granted God didn't murder my children, but He sure let it happen. And how do I deal with that? How do I celebrate a murderers birthday? How do I celebrate someone who has brought me such sorrow? How do I trust Him again, love Him? What do I do with all this?

I can be that person and live my life having both of my daughters ripped from my womb. I can live my life with the knowledge that I'll never meet them on earth, but why? I can some what wrap my mind around losing Jorai, but to have 2 babies taken from me...and not only taken from me, but He waited until I had to birth them, and hold them, and grieve for them in such a real, raw way, rather just knowing they were 'gone' through a miscarriage. Why did He do that? I prayed so much about the health of Selah. About her cord and breath and safe delivery. I even prayed that if He had to take her, to just please do it before week 20 so I wouldn't have to deliver another dead baby. But no. He chose again to crush my spirit. To take away another huge part of joy and hope in me. I just can't wrap my mind or my heart around a loving God who could do that.

I find myself void of emotion at times. I sit here in silence and just stare. Or as I hear Asher scream in happiness, my once smile stretched face will be hung low in solace. I want to feel joy again, but for now, I know it eludes me. All I can see is my loss. I see it every where. At my sagging belly, the silence in my womb, the books that arrived a few days after losing Selah 'Waiting for baby' and 'I'm going to be a big brother', the condolence cards that keep piling up, knowing that Asher may never have a living sibling...that one crushes me, when I slip and accidentally say 'When the kids get older'...every thing. I can't get away from it. I want to get back in the world, but I don't want to see the looks people give me or know they have no idea what to say, so they don't say anything...which is horrible...please say something.

I don't know. I just feel so lost. I feel so conflicted. I feel so alone and hurt and frustrated. I feel horrible. I can't seem to grasp any reason for this to happen again. I feel guilty that I never got genetic counseling with Jorai. Though we were never given that choice. And I never thought of it on my own, but could we have spared Selah if we got it? Or would we have just given up the hope of having another child, and never have been blessed with our amazing son. I don't know. I know I shouldn't look backwards, but in a way, that's all I have. All I have is the feelings I felt with Selah. I miss her. I miss her gentle kicks and feeling her bottom press against my side. I just miss her so. Why did You have to take another one of my children? Why?

It's almost Christmas day. It's 9 minutes away. Tomorrow morning I should be celebrating with my 3 children. But instead, there will be only 1. Upstairs lies my sweet miracle baby boy, whom I love so very much. But my 2 beautiful girls are no where to be seen. I know they're whooping it up in Heaven for one kick ass birthday party, but I'd rather them here. Selfishly, I just want them here.

I was watching all the families tonight at church. Brothers and sisters. Some teasing one another, some poking at each other and some snuggling up with one another. I remember my childhood Christmas' with my 2 older brothers. They are such fond memories. I loved my brothers so. I looked up to them and always wanted to be close to them. I keep wondering if Asher will ever have that. That bond of a sibling. The thought of my inability to give him that is overwhelming at times.

well...it's midnight. It's Christmas morning. Merry Christmas Jorai. Merry Christmas Selah. We have your stockings stuffed down here on earth. Your memories are here with us, as they'll always be. We'll be celebrating Christmas as a family for the first time. I'll make Christmas breakfast with Ula-cocka bread and we'll do stockings and presents. You'll be missed my sweet girls. You'll always be missed. I love you both so much. My only wish was that I could feel your arms around me now and smell the sweetness of your skin and hair. I miss you. I love you. Always and forever.

Here are some of the pictures of Selah we got back from Kristy through Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. The last one of Steve breaks my heart.

I always hated seeing those words. dead baby. I always thought that there was a better way to say it. Maybe it's the bitterness that makes me chose those words instead of others. I don't know.

Life has been challenging the past 3 days. I've been trying to be happy and energetic for Asher. He already senses something has happened. He won't let us out of his sight. When he can't see us, he starts wailing and he clings to us when we pick him up. This morning he clung to me the entire time I was upstairs getting him something to wear and then again in the living room while watching Curious George, he crawled up, hung on tight to my neck and wrapped his feet around my waist as he laid his head on my shoulder. He stayed in that position for 15 minutes. He's never done that. So I'm trying to be 'normal' for him. It's been challenging.

Eating is hard. We have food, but nothing tastes good. I'm hungry, but what's the point? I remember that with Jorai. I only ate a small portion every day. It's so strange to go from ravenous to anorexic within 1 minute. I know I need to keep my strength up, but it's just so hard. It's so hard to be normal when you feel so abnormal.

Keeping my emotions in check has been hard. I want to scream at most everyone. If I'm not being heard or someone is being testy or I'm being annoyed. I just want to scream. I have a bit of a short fuse to begin with, but this is crazy.

I'm devastated, but not clinically. So many people are telling me to get help or take a drug. It kind of pisses me off. I would have NO problem getting help if I felt I needed help and I know people are only trying to help, but it really is starting to piss me off. I won't hurt anyone and I'd never hurt myself. No matter how hard things get. That's just not me. I've been through the whole suicide darkness with a friend and that's one thing that I'd never let my family go through with me. never.

My mind keeps reeling about what I can do. How I can help others in the future. How can I make Jorai and Selah live on through me, through Steve and through Asher. I have some ideas and I know I need time to let things settle in and heal, but the thoughts keep coming. Websites and books and gardens and art. Anything. Everything. We have 3 children, but the view from the outside is that we only have 1. I want that view to change.

I feel a heavy weight on my shoulders. Literally. I feel drug down. I feel heavy with burden, heavy with anger and heavy with sadness. I don't want to hear that God can take it away. I'm not ready to forgive him yet. I'm not ready to let Him in. I know I'm being selfish, I know I'm being childish. But I just can't. Not yet. I can't pray for me, for us or our situation. I can't talk to Him about Jorai or Selah. I just can't. But I find it interesting that the moment I heard bad, real bad, news about Steve's highschool friends daughter this morning, my first action was to pray for them. So I guess my faith is still there, but there's a veil separating me from Him. I don't know...I just think it's interesting.

After you lose someone, at least after we lost both girls, our world changed for awhile. And now with facebook, we notice it even more. After Jorai passed, we would notice people on the street or in a store and they just acted so normal. We couldn't figure it out. But it pissed us off. We couldn't understand how normal they could be when we were going through such devastation. Now with facebook, it's in our face even more and during the holidays it's been horrible. Everyone's so blasted happy or stressed or making some mundane comment about life and though that's what I'd be doing as well if I had a kicking baby within me, they just all seems so trivial now. It makes us want to scream. And how judgmental and hypocritical is that?!?! And we know it. But still, it pisses us off. In our sorrow, we can only think, how can people be so happy when we're hurting so much. It's such a strange dichotomy.

It's always been so amazing and we've felt so blessed to have all of our friends and family and acquaintances in our lives. When we lost Jorai and now after losing Selah, people come out of the woodwork to send us notes or food or cards or texts or whatever. I mean, I know our friends and family would be there, but to see so many people help us, we feel like we don't deserve the kindness. We appreciate it and it makes us feel so unbelievably loved and supported, but I can only sit in astonishment that so many people are thinking and praying and supporting us. It's overwhelming. I feel conflicted. I feel the worst pain I've ever felt but at the same time, I feel the most loved. How can you feel death and love at the same time?

Thank you, every one of you who have reached out in any way. I truly appreciate it. We truly appreciate it. Know that we want to contact every one of you and thank you from the bottom of our hearts, but we simply can't right now. We can barely keep it together. We're trying to find some peace. We're trying to keep it together, but we seem to be failing miserably. But please know, we're getting your calls and emails and texts and food and notes and prayers and thoughts and we simply cannot thank you enough. Thank you for loving us. Thank you for supporting us and thinking of us. You all mean so much to us. Thank you. Thank you.

I hate crying. I feel drained. In the hospital, between starting the process, and the moment before giving birth, I didn't cry. I was dry. I had cried all the tears my body had for 24 hours and I laid there emotionless. Drained and dry. But the moment they placed Selah on my chest, the sobs came once again and they haven't stopped. When people are around, I'm OK, but as soon as I sit alone, they come. hard and fast. drowning me. blinding me.

I took out the blanket that wrapped around Selah today. I looked at the blood stains and wept. Baby blankets aren't suppose to have blood stains. I pulled out the cap they placed on her too little head and noticed it there too. blood.

I keep thinking about my two little girls. I always dreamed I would have a daughter and now I have two, but I will never be able to enjoy them or get to know them here on earth and that kills me. No one should have to go through a loss like this...but twice? That's messed up.

I keep thinking about the chances of me carrying another child within me and delivering it alive and healthy. Will I ever get that chance again? Or are the risks to high to chance? I should feel blessed to have such an amazing son. And I do. I love Asher will all my heart. He's amazing. But I want so badly to give him a sibling. I want so badly to be able to carry that sibling within me and birth him or her. But if we're right and it's a genetic thing...it probably will never happen again. Asher was my miracle baby. And how wonderful is that?!?! But it still kills me to think that I'll never have another chance to become pregnant and carry a child to term and deliver a healthy baby. Steve is so hopeful...I'm so broken.

I've started nursing Asher again. My milk hasn't come in...and I'm starting to wonder if it will...but he still nurses. It hurts right now. But I don't care. The pain reminds me that I'm still alive. I wonder if my milk will eventually come in and if so, if Asher will continue to nurse. It brings me comfort right now. Being so close to him again. I watched him fall asleep on me this afternoon and I can't explain the joy that brought me. It feels good knowing that the milk isn't going to waste either. It's as if Selah sent a gift down for her big brother.

I still can't believe I've lost 2 children. It's just not right. I just can't wrap my head around it. I know I'll be OK, but I really just feel gutted beyond belief. As if someone literally punched me so hard in the stomach that they were able to pull out all my insides. I want to be OK. I want to be able to enjoy Christmas. I love Christmas, but right now, I loathe it. I can't wait to go to church tomorrow, but other than that, I'm not looking forward to it at all. This was our first Christmas at home. I wanted to start our traditions and enjoy the time at home, together. But I feel as if I just want the whole thing to just go away. And we have family coming and then we're going to another family get together and I know people will come up to me and hug me and ask how I'm doing...and if they didn't, I'd be totally offended!!! But if they do, I'm going to break down and bawl and shake and just want to leave. It just sucks.

And people watch your emotions and listen to your every word and judge you for everything. If you're not crying, you must be completely insensitive and don't care that your child just died...but if you do cry, they think you're going to go off yourself. I remember that with Jorai. People would correct my answers or come across as if they think I didn't care that I just lost a child. I was either too sensitive or not enough. It's crazy. I remember when I called into my work and told my boss that Jorai had passed. She told a friend of mine that I wasn't crying and how could someone who just lost a child not break down on the phone...as if she knew how I was feeling or that it took me about an hour to brave up the courage to call and even though my mom was sitting there telling me that she would call, I knew I had to do it myself. It's just so bizarre.

The first few months are just so hard. People still will come up and ask when your due, or when I had the child...if it were a boy or girl...they don't know any better, but it sure doesn't help a grieving mama. I just don't want to go through this again. But I know I have to. It's my journey. It's my cross to bare, whatever the hell that means. I know I need to find peace in this. I know I sound bitter and angry. It hurts to even read what I write at times. I guess I just never thought that I'd be here again. I never thought I'd have to relive the horror. I want to find peace in this hell. I'm searching for the light, but it's eluding me. Please pray I can find it. Please pray that I can open up to Jesus again. I feel closed off. I can't talk to Him right now. It hurts too much to talk to Him. and I hate that. I hate not going to Him. But I'm just so mad, that I can't. I can't.

Sorry this is so convoluted and hodge podge...I guess my thoughts and heart are so shattered all over the place that my words are getting spewed all around as well.

My pregnancy with Selah was alike to Jorai's. I was blissfully ignorant. There were a few times where I was a bit scared with Selah, but all in all, I was happy and enjoying my pregnancy and awaiting the birth of another daughter...yes, we knew Selah was a girl, not officially, but we knew. Just as we knew Jorai was a girl. But then the darkness fell.

Saturday, Steve, Asher and I were up in Big Rapids celebrating Christmas with my folks and brother and fam. Around 3:30ish, my brother and I were talking and he asked 'So, are you feeling a lot of movement?' And of course I said 'Yeah, tons'...since she was such a mover and shaker. But then I thought, when was the last time she moved? So I started to monitor it and of course, nothing. I kept sneaking out of our Christmas celebration to drink OJ and lay down to poke and prod at my belly, just hoping and praying for movement. Nothing.

I knew. I knew she was gone. But I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want it to be real. At 8:30, I confessed to Steve that I hadn't felt movement. And then my mom at about 9. At 9:30 we decided to go to the Mecosta County General Hosp. to see if I was wrong. I hoped I was wrong. I wasn't.

We packed up the car around 11pm and made the trip back to Lansing. That night sucked. My belly was starting to hurt and get a bit hard...not a contraction hardness, but something else. And the feeling of stillness was overwhelming. I got maybe 3 hours of sleep. I could feel the baby float back and forth when I would flip from one side to the other. It was horrible. I felt a dead weight shift and then plop at my side. It truly was horrendous. At 11am we took off to the hospital.

We sat around waiting for almost 2 hours before they inserted the laminaria into my cervix and gave me cytotec to start labor. About a few hours into it, the pain was intensifying so I decided to get some help with drugs. I chose to use dilaudid and it was the best decision. I really hated to get an epidural, but I wanted to try something. The dilaudid was amazing. I was given a personal pump controller that just went into my iv bag. The moment I started being uncomfortable, I'd push the button and from the moment I got it until I delivered, I was pain free with no additional needles, I could walk around and it never caused me any nausea.

For some reason, which I still don't know, the pitocin was started around 10am but then stopped around 6am so my labor stalled. At around 10am they started pitocin again and within 15 minutes I went from a dilation of 5 to full and Selah was in position. She was born @ 10:29 because we were waiting for my doctor to arrive. Selah Mae was 13" long and weighed 1 and 1/4 lb. Steve cut the cord and she was immediately placed on my chest.

I'd love to say that she was beautiful and that I loved the time I was able to spend with her, but it was horrid. She was so young that she didn't look right. Not at all. She was perfectly formed when a doctor looked at her, but to me, she just didn't look right. I couldn't look at her. When she was placed on my belly, her jaw swung open and her too tiny face turned to me with the look of death staring me in the eyes. Jorai was serene and beautiful, but Selah...Selah was death to me. Jorai looked as if she was just asleep. Selah looked like death. It was scary for me. I was thinking I was going to see Jorai, and I didn't. She was tiny. Too tiny. Her skull was so soft, which is typical of a 23 week gestation baby, but it made her head and face concave a bit. Her little hands and feet were perfect and soft yet cold and the skin was starting to peel away. I felt like crap for being afraid and not wanting to be with her, but I couldn't. I was sobbing so hard that I couldn't breathe and the tears where coming so hard and fast that I couldn't see anything...All I could see was her gaping mouth and sunken face. I wanted to hold her and kiss her but I couldn't. I couldn't. I wanted to stare at her for hours and examine her body so that I had a mental picture of her that I could treasure for all time, but I couldn't. I couldn't look at my child. I couldn't bare to see her in that way.

My friend who has been our photographer for the past year, and who has started volunteering with Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, came to take pictures of Selah. I can't wait to see the pictures. She mainly focused on those perfect little hands and feet.

The cause of her passing, we think was cord related again. Where the cord attached to her belly, the cord was only the size of a toothpick. It's usually a lot larger than it. Our doctor said that if there was any twisting of the cord, it would have cut off everything. I don't think she had a fighting chance of survival.

We've decided to send some samples of Selah's blood and skin to a genetics lab and Steve and I'll get genetic counseling as well. The doctor, and us, think it's not a coincidence that both of our daughters have passed yet Asher's came out so perfectly. Our doctor thinks it could be something to do with a X chromosome. We'll start that soon.

I'm really pissed right now. I could never wrap my thoughts and faith around the loss of Jorai, so how do I with losing Selah as well. Why was another child taken from me? Why did we have to go through it like this again. Why couldn't we just have had a miscarriage? A miscarriage would have been so much easier. I'm not saying a miscarriage would be easy...Losing a child at any stage is difficult, but giving birth and holding a lifeless child in your arms, seeing their death is heartbreaking. How do I deal with this pain?

Having Asher is a lifesaver. I wish I could say that my faith has been a lifesaver this time, but in honesty, it hasn't. I'm praying...kindof...mostly just telling God off. I'm pissed. I can't see His reasoning for this and I know I'm not suppose to, but for me, right now...I need to see something. Taking a painted box home filled with a blood spattered blanket and cap and clothes that never even touched my baby's body, rather than bringing home a healthy bundle of joy just isn't right. And to do it for a second time, just sucks. It's not right. It's not 'fair'. For all the people who could care less about their child, who abort their children or put them up for adoption or abuse them or whatever, why do they 'deserve' to have a child more that us? I'm just pissed. Pissed at the world and at God and at my body and at every thing. I know I need to find peace about this, to walk in grace with what's been placed before me, but right now, all I want is to spit in the face of the One who did this. Is that wrong of me? I feel like crap saying those words. I do. I feel conflicted. I love God. I treasure Him. But how can you treasure someone who continues to take your babies away. Who continues to make you endure such hardship? Maybe I'm being a selfish little girl who's not getting her way. For all in all, I live a pretty 'charmed' life. But to endure the death of a child, twice. To feel a lifeless child within. To birth a lifeless child. To hold a lifeless child. To see a child who you love, look so disfigured, so...truly and utterly lifeless and feel their coldness and hear the silence and have horrible images burned in your memories and fear all subsequent pregnancies...it's just not right. You want to blame someone. You want to punch and kick and scream at the One who's taken from you.

Steve is already talking about trying again. He thinks we should. He's already telling me the name of our next girl. That makes me feel blessed. Blessed to have someone who's not afraid to try at life again. Not afraid to believe and let go of anger. I'm not there. I want to be. I want to give Asher a sibling. I want him to grow up and live his life with a brother or sister, but I can't do this again. I truly can't. My heart has been split wide open twice in 2 and 1/2 years. I've lost 2 babies. I've delivered 2 lifeless babies. I've cremated 2 children. I can't do this again. What if we can't make a baby girl that will survive? I can't take that risk. I can't. I want to. But I can't.

So here I sit. In turmoil. And I have time. Time for tests and diagnoses and healing and restoration in faith. I have time. I have time to enjoy life with my husband and living child. And I will. But anguish is still right there. Right underneath the surface. I still picture Jorai when I see children who would be around her age. Now I will do the same with Selah. I'll always have 2 children who I can only picture the people they would have become. And God is to blame for that. Blame may be the wrong choice of word...but that's how I feel right now. And the thought of not being able to carry another child to term, kills me a bit. I don't know. This is where I am. In limbo. 2 dead babies. 1 live one and a big fat question of should we even try again. I can't say life sucks. I have an AMAZING husband who I love and cherish so much, a living child who adds joy to my heart each and every day and who I love so dearly, and a great support system of family and friends. But each moment of every day there are 2 little girls who are missing in my life. 2 little girls who I would have loved to have gotten to know and kiss and hug and watch grow up. 2 little girls whom I miss so dearly, so utterly and 2 little girls that I ache to be with. every day. every day they're missed.

Selah Mae. We were so excited to be pregnant with you. We were thrilled to have you in our lives and growing in my belly. Your big brother loved to kiss you by zerberting my belly. He would point to you when asked where the baby was. He would have loved to meet you and grow with you. I miss you so. I miss your gentle kicks and feeling you grow within me. I miss our time together. I'm so very sorry that I wasn't able to spend more time with you, please know my love for you is undying and I will count the days until I meet you in heaven. It brings me a bit of solace knowing that you are with you big sister up in heaven. I know she will love you and play with you and watch over you until I get there. Your papa and I love you so very much my dear, sweet girl and we miss you each moment of the day. My heart aches for you my child and a piece will be missing until we're together again. I love you to the moon and back.

I hate doing this online...I hate sharing horrible news on this blog before everyone I care about knows first hand, but I can't sleep and I need to scream. And truthfully, I don't have the guts nor strength to talk anymore.

Some time today we lost our baby. We found out the fate of our child in a cold hospital room, but I already new in my heart that we had lost another child. This was my third pregnancy. We lost Jorai at 28 weeks, birthed an amazingly awesome screaming boy 18 months ago, and now, lost this child just shy of 24 weeks.

I'm lost. I'm gutted. I'm numb. I'm pissed. Really pissed. My faith is weak right now. It's teetering really. On the verge of falling, if I'm being honest. I had a hard enough time finding peace with our first child being taken away, but now another one? And the fact that I have to deliver and hold another lifeless body makes my ache all over.

I've been shaking since we got into the car to drive to the hospital. I'm shaking as I type this. I don't know if it's emotions or my body realizing something is wrong. I don't know. I'm just shaking. My eye's burn from crying, my mouth is parched.

Another baby gone. Still inside of me, but gone. Why do we have to go through this? Why does anyone. Why couldn't I have just miscarried? Why do I have to go through this again. I really don't think I can do this. I really don't. The hospital OB ward...hearing happiness as you lie there in agony...the cervical sticks and chemicals to help you dilate and contract and then a baby who's tiny and silent. Utterly silent. A baby who's warm and slimy but lifeless and then gets progressively colder and colder and the blood that falls from it's sweet nose. The goodbyes and emptiness you feel after. I just can't do this again. Not again.

I think we're going to the hospital tomorrow afternoon. I don't know. I just don't want to go. I don't want to leave Asher. He's the only thing keeping me from losing it. His love. His needing me. His warmth and screams and laughter. He's like a drug to me right now. I know I should be going to God, but I'm just too pissed off at Him right now. I've prayed my plea and he knows my feelings quite well, we're talking...but my faith in his love is weak. I can't see it. Not with my selfish, human eyes. I'm just pissed. Simply pissed off.

I may be out of touch...I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I'm functioning. A lot more so than I was when I lost Jorai. I just keep my heart focused on 3 things; Steve, Asher and the hope that both my lost babies are up in Heaven together, playing and singing and rejoicing. It doesn't give me much solace, but it keeps me functioning...at least for now. I'll try to type more in the coming days. I'll announce the gender of the child and hopefully post pictures as this time we'll be using As I Lay Me Down To Sleep.

But for now, I simply ask for your prayers for my family in this horrific time. Please pray for:

• my parents and in-laws who, in their own way, are reeling for their children and grandchildren;
  
• for Steve's faith because I need him to be strong. I need him to be strong for me because I am weak. Pray for his sadness and anger. Pray that he finds a way to deal with another loss like this. Pray for hope to return to his eyes, for life to return. All I see is ache.;
  
• Pray for me. Pray for my healing, both emotionally and physically. Pray for my faith, that I find the strength to hold fast to His love and not give up as I want to right now. Pray for courage so that I may face what's to come both with the delivery and loss aspect, and also with dealing with all the people who will ask when I'm due, did I have the baby, what did I have....
• Pray for all the pregnant people out there. Pray for the health of their babies.

As I type this though, my thoughts go back to all my prayers. All my prayers asking for a healthy child, a healthy delivery. Some days I wonder why I even pray. I'm sick to my stomach. I'm so at a loss I'm miserable. Utterly gutted.

This movie looks so cool! I can't wait to see it. It takes 4 babies from 4 different counties, Namibia, Cambodia, Japan and the US and it chronicles their lives for 1 year. So cool. Check out the trailer.

Steve went to a LUSH store to pick up a Christmas present for me the other night while he was on his way to a guys night out. While he was there, he worked the store employee's hard and was able to score tons of samples. The cool thing about LUSH samples, is that their products are so pricey, it's hard to shell out the dough on things just to try them...but with a sample, you can try it and then buy it if you like it.

Every morning, Steve has been leaving me a LUSH sample to find and use. It's been like the 12 days of Christmas. It's been so cool. My favorite so far? A massage bar called 'Business Time'. Yup...Business Time. Love the name...love the smell...love the creaminess...it was wonderful as a massage bar, but I think it would be lovely for a thick lotion as well. It's lovely. Go check it out here.

iGive.com is going to attempt to donate $5,000 in just 24 hours to National Stillbirth Society Inc.

For each person who joins iGive using the special link below and does just one web search on our site between now and noon Thursday, they'll give National Stillbirth Society Inc. a dollar.

5,000 new members, $5,000. No purchase necessary.

Of course, if you search more (or buy something) you'll earn even more money for National Stillbirth Society Inc..Right now, they're donating $.02 per search and a bonus $5 for that first purchase plus the usual percentage. There are tons of online shops connected through iGive.

This is the link:
http://www.igive.com/welcome/warm_reg_promo.cfm?m=552528

The details:
- Offer active between now and 11:59 a.m., December 17, 2009 (Chicago time).
- New members only (never have been an iGive member previously). All the normal rules of membership, searching, and purchasing apply, our site has the details.
- Once they've given away $5,000, the offer ends.

Please help give the National Stillbirth Society some extra funding. It's so easy and this organization rocks.

I never really put much thought to it really...other than if I wanted to deal with Asher in a non-child proofed condo and on a long plane ride, but as I continue to see the downfalls of traveling in the month of December, I realize how I really never want to take another vacation in December again.

I look forward to November and December every year. The spirit changes in people. The air is different. There's magic to the season I think. All the holidays, all the traditions and meanings and the spirit of giving...the parties and the food and the get togethers. The lights and decorations and music. The snow. And I hate snow! But the snow, when it first comes...it's so exciting...so beautiful.

We normally take a Florida vacation in March. But since I'll be giving birth in early April, we chose not to go and the offer was placed to go in December. To tell the truth, I never really wanted to go. I knew it would be a headache with Asher and I just didn't want to deal. But Steve really wanted to make the adventure, so alas...we're going. And I think we'll probably have a wonderful time if Asher adjusts to the sleeping arrangements and after we proof a VERY kid unfriendly place...but so far we'll be missing 2 great events at Riv, a girl get together for me, my nieces birthday and a free photo op at our photographers...not to mention I'm so anxious to go out and get a Christmas tree but we can't until the 13th. And that's just the stuff I know about right now.

It's only a week, but I feel as if we're already missing so much. December is such a busy, fun month. I don't know what I was thinking! So, I'm trying not to be a boob and I'm trying to get excited for a vacation that we normally have a lovely time at, but I'm also putting my foot down. No more vacations at the holidays. They're too important for me to miss any of it.

Today marks 20 weeks for me and peanut. I got to see the lil' gal (I think anyway) yesterday and it was such a joy. This pregnancy has been so weird for me. With Jorai, I was simply blissfully ignorant and then was shattered by her loss. With Asher I was neurotic and terrified every single day. I barely got to enjoy the pregnancy because I was always just so scared. But now, with this peanut...most times I forget I'm pregnant until I feel some squirmies or Asher knees me in the pregger belly and I feel a pang.

Thinking that I'm already 20 weeks along, kinda freaks me out. In 5 months, we'll be a family of 4 (5 in spirit). It won't be just Asher and I any longer during the days. When 5:30 hits, I won't have alone time for quite a few months, which is what I normally have....and mostly, I'll need to wrap my heart and soul around two living babies when right now, I can only imagine the love I have with Asher.

Don't get me wrong. I love this little one within me. I can't wait to meet her/him. But it's a different feeling than I had when I was pregnant with Jorai or Asher. I didn't have a living child at home in my previous pregnancies. It seems as if all I'm thinking about right now is Asher...my love for him, his laugh and words and personality and deviant nature. Every thing about him is amazing. Every thing about him is love.

Today he gave his baby doll 2 kisses. And the other day I caught him being gentle and stroking a friends baby's' leg and foot. I can't wait to see him with his sibling. I know it'll be a change...and it'll probably be a struggle for a bit since I can't even hold another baby without a complete meltdown...but I can't wait. I can't wait for them to play together and laugh and chase and fight, together. How amazing.

So, yes. My little peanut. I saw you yesterday and you were beautiful. Kicking and punching within your warm and cozy home. I relish the times I reach down and feel you move. Papa got to feel you a few nights ago. He's getting so excited to meet you too. We love you and pray that you stay healthy and strong and we look forward to hearing your sweet voice as you tell the world you're ready to conquer it. We love you peanut.

Here's a memory for the record books my dear son.

You love to watch and help your Poppy shave. Whenever Papa's shaving you run in, take the electric razor and start to shave your pops. Tonight, as you were trying to avoid taking your bath, you ran into the bathroom grabbed the shaver and started 'shaving' your face like Poppy does. After a few minutes, I came in to undress you for your bath and noticed that in the process of 'shaving' your slobbery face with a non-operating electric razor, you removed Papa's stubble remnants from the razor and smeared it all over your face. It actually looked like you had a stubbly beard.

I wish I would've had my camera to document the moment. It truly was hilarious!

I'm junkie. I don't like it. I try really hard not to be, but I seem to be a clutter mongering junkie. I hate it. I try to change. I come up with grand ideas of how to be better organized and keep a cleaner more tidier house, but it never lasts. I go to my friends houses and they all seem to have tidy, clutter-free rooms. I'm embarrassed by mine. It's not a dirty thing. My house is clean. It's just cluttery. And it hasn't helped having Asher. It seems, whatever I pick up, he follows to empty. If I put his shoes away, he follows and throws them all out. Same thing with diapers, hats, washcloths...you name it. And he won't let me clean dishes, so I usually have to wait until he's sleeping to clean up the kitchen.

So I'm asking for advice. For all you mama's out there, what are your organizational secrets? How do you find the motivation and the time to keep things in their place? I'd really love some help in this area!

• You LOVE apples. All kinds. But especially crab apples. You'll run to the window, point out at the neighbors crab apple tree, throw your head back and say 'Aaaaaaaaaple.' As soon as Papa comes in the door you run to him and say 'Aaaaaaaaaple.' When you eat an 'indoor' apple (one from the store) you never seem to chew up and swallow the skin. Mama always has to fish in your mouth to pull out any leftovers before bed.
  
• You love to play chase around the divider wall in the living room. But you only run out of view and then you plop yourself down on the floor and wait for us to come find you.
  
• You love video's. Mama tries to only let you watch a few minutes every day, but each time the computer is opened, you run over, shake your arms in the air and excitingly say 'Da...da...da....da!'
• You love your baths. You love to splash and play with toys, but you especially like to let the water go down the drain. You like to cover the drain to feel the suck and you wait for all the water to empty and them you lay tummy down in the tub and pretend to swim.
  
• You LOVE the Barnyard Dance book from Sandra Boynton. When we sign it, we slap our knees like a hoedown song. You ask us to read it over and over by slapping your knee or our knee. And when we read the part of the book that says 'bow to the horse, bow to the cow'....and 'all take a bow and the dance is over', you bow your head all the way to the ground.
  
• You like to give the baby 'kisses' by zerberting Mama's tummy. You're a pretty talented zerberter, making some impressive tooty noises! And when Mama asks where the baby is you point to her belly.
• Whenever you get a sticker you want to place it on Mama or Papa's nose.
• You love balls and everything that's round is a ball to you. All during October you were calling pumpkins balls. And no matter how many times we tried to correct you, you still shouted 'BALL'.
• You're a screamer. You're one of the loudest children I know. You scream when your happy, scared, sad...you love to hear your own voice. It's funny mostly...but ear piercing as well!
• When you get excited, you pucker your lips and say 'Oooooooooo!' and then point to whatever you want us to see.
  
• Many of your words sound the same. For instance ball, boy, bug, bus and bird all the sound the same as well as baby, papa and bye bye. If you say something and I repeat the word I think you're saying but is wrong, you yell at me and say the word over and over until I understand.
  
• Speaking of words, you don't say a ton, but you're starting to try and repeat anything I say. Right now the words we somewhat understand are: Mama, Dada and Papa, ball, all done, milk, bread, apple, bug, bus, car, shoes, cheese, bird, baby, diaper, no, yes, ouch, juice.
• When teaching you to go down the stairs on your bottom, Papa inadvertently taught you to grunt. Now you grunt with any physical movement. Especially going down the stairs. Each stair you hit has to be followed with a 'ugh'. When pushing in a chair, you grunt. Anything that requires effort...grunt. It's pretty funny.
• By Mama trying to get you to understand the meaning of yucky, she taught you to stick your tongue out when something is yucky. You may not say the word, but when asked how to say yucky, you stick your tongue out and make a noise of disgust.
  
• You've learned to say no. But I can't figure out if it's just a response or if you really mean it. When you say it, you shake your head with a devious smile and quickly say no. Always with a smile. It scares me a bit!
• You're staring to really become scared of things. For a few weeks you got scared when walking past windows at night. You'd scream and run towards us for reassurance. When you're sleepy, and we leave your sight for a minute, you scream and run to find us.
  
• If you're being held by one of us and the other needs to take you, sometimes you'll scream and kick your legs in protest. If we give you a few moments and explain again why one of us is taking you, you settle down and relax.
• You like to clench your fists, tense your body and teeth so hard you shake. Mama can't tell if you think it's funny or what. You always smile after it.
• You have a major stinker face. You pucker your lips and push your face out at the person you're trying to stink on. It's seriously the cutest thing I've ever seen.
• When I ask you to chew your food, you open your mouth up wide and show me how you chew.
• You love to dance and you have a major sense of rhythm and moves that you regularly show off.
• When ever you hear music, you stop and listen. If it's on TV, you stop what you're doing and crawl up on the couch to watch and listen. I think you may end up with all of musical talent that your parents sorely missed out on!
• You love to be chased, but it scares you at the same time. You are constantly getting Papa to chase you around the square, but your squeals of laughter quickly becomes squeals of fright and you then you find me and jump into my lap.
  
• You love to 'help' in whatever your Mama or Papa is doing. Especially sweeping. As soon as the 'big' broom comes out, you run to find yours to help sweep up the kitchen. You also love to vacuum.
  
• You love the ocean. You love splashing in the water and you LOVED chasing all the birds.
  
• Though you hate to get your diaper changed, you're starting to lay down and ask for it to be changed when it's dirty. It doesn't happen all the time, but it's so nice to see you realizing that you've dirtied your diaper.
  
• You still sign for more, thank you and please. You also like to blow kisses.
• You are great at giving hugs and kisses. You love on anyone who asks and you still love to cuddle...Mama loves that.

Well, I think that may be all for now. I'll keep posting these memories of you. You're growing up so fast. I wish there was a hold or rewind button! You are a joy in our lives sweet boy. You are MUCH loved.

Last night as I was saying prayers with you, you would end each sentence with 'mmmmm.' It was an agreeing 'mmmmm.' It kinda went like this:

Mama: Thank you Father for the warm sun you let hit my face today.
Asher: Mmmmmm.
Mama: Thank you for letting me play with my friend Nathaniel at the park
Asher: Mmmmmm.
Mama: Thank you for keeping my body strong and sickness away from me and my family.
Asher: Mmmmmm.
Mama: Please keep my baby brother or sister healthy and strong.
Asher: Mmmmmm.

You are so funny my dear son. You warm my heart. The entire time I was praying, I had to hold back giggles and I thank you for that. Thank you for being you.

The last day Asher nursed was Sunday November 1st at 9:40am. Boo. Yesterday he asked to nurse at his nap, but I told him that it hurt Mama and that we didn't need to nurse. He shed a few tears but then settled down on a shirt covered boob and took his bottle as I rocked with him and sang some songs. Today he didn't even ask to nurse at his nap.

I know this is a good thing and I know people are probably sick of me talking about it, but it's a big bummer in my life. I miss it already. I'm second guessing my decision with flu season upon us and I just miss our snugly time.

But, there are positives...more so if I wasn't preggers...but it's nice to have another way to calm him down. I guess I just didn't realize that my last time nursing was Sunday. I would have savored the time a bit more. A part of me wishes he would ask 1 more time so I could savor our last time together...but I don't think it will happen. I think he's over it. We'll see.

I'm glad now that I gradually weaned him. It gave us both time to ease into it. And although there were a few tears, there weren't a lot. It was a fairly easy transition for him. For him. It's a bit of a different story for me...but I'll be OK. My little boy is growing up. He doesn't need that part of me anymore. But he does need other parts of me. This is just one more milestone to place in the record book. A sad one for his mama...but a good one.

So here's to the memories...

• here's to warm faces smooched against my skin
• here's to sticky fingers holding on tight as if trying to not fall off
• here's to hours and hours of staring into closed eyes, marveling at long lashes, kissing sweet rosy cheeks, cleaning out waxy ears and tickling chubby little fingers and toes.
• here's to having my necklace and earrings being wanked at, chest being slapped and pounded and pinched, eyes being poked at and fingers being shoved in my mouth.
• here's to those long open stares as if you're telling me I love you.
• here's to all those hours we spent together, just you and I...hanging out...talking and singing and just being...together.
  

I love you baby boy.

I've decided to wean Asher. I've haven't been producing anything in a few weeks and now I'm starting to hurt a bit when he tries to nurse. There was a part of me that thought weaning Asher would be best...and another part that thought I could handle nursing both. But with the pain and the reality that Asher's not getting anything any way, I've decided to wean.

It's been hard. I've only been slowly taking it away for the past few days...but he asks for it all the time, and I feel so bad to not give him something that gives him so much comfort. I mean, if it was a cookie or a toy, it wouldn't bother me...but really, all he wants is something that calms him and gives him comfort and I'm saying no. If I didn't feel pain while nursing, I would give in and let him nurse, but I think it's for the best...I'm just heart broken. I haven't nursed him yet today. Surprisingly he didn't ask this morning, but he did ask before his nap and I just brushed it off. Steve tried to put him down for his nap, but he's still up there fussing. I know he wants me...oh...this is so hard!

I want to slowly do this. I would hate to just rip it away from him. I think that would be cruel since he's been nursing now for almost 17 months and there's no medical reason for me to stop immediately. poor punkie.

And I'm going to miss our intimate moments of just him and I, snuggled in. I know I can do other things...but I also know this will be an end to something we both have enjoyed so much. That super cool, amazing bond that only nursing mama's know. I'm going to miss our time together.

My baby's growing up.

I kinda feel bad not having a decent nickname for this new little child growing within me. We're still in the quasi-preggo stage...that stage where you continue to get big and feel weird, but not feel anything but gas. I'm anxiously waiting for the first punch or kick or squirm, but I also don't want to get too anxious. It will happen when it happens...it's just been hard to nickname a child that I can't really feel yet.

I secretly call the little bean punkin' pie, but I'm not sure if it'll stick. I do have to admit that I'm feeling more of a girl vibe right now. I haven't had any dreams about the baby, other than when I miscarried...but the baby was too little to tell the gender. There's just something there...I'm not coming out with a prediction yet and I'm sure this feeling will change at a drop of the hat, but yeah, I'm getting a girl vibe.

We'll see...and keep posted...a proper nickname is coming.

Number 1 fav. ~ Amazing Grass Chocolate drink

Asher has become a bit of a picky veggie eater. Some days he'll eat them, and others...not so much. Thanks to Katie, Asher now drinks Amazing Grass Chocolate drink. It's a "nutritional powerhouse that combines 33 rainbow colored fruits and vegetables in a delicious chocolate drink powder." One serving gives you the antioxidant equivalent of 3 servings of fruits and vegetables! And there's only 1 gram of sugar!! Asher loves it. He won't put his sippy down until it's gone and usually drinks it within 5 minutes. It's also certified organic. For any kid who lacks on the veggie intake, I think this is a must. You can find it on Vitacost and Amazon for around $19 and it last for 33 days if you give 1 serving a day. We LOVE this product. I actually bought the adult version for myself and I like it...I like to add a bit more chocolate to it...but I like it!


Number 1 fav. ~ Blankease

Asher doesn't sleep in 1 position. All night long he tosses and turns and flips and is simply crazy. When the weather turned a bit chillier, he would wake up cold, so I tried to place a blanket on him, but with his acrobatics in bed, it didn't stay on him long. I put his blanket sleeper on him from last year, but he hated it. He couldn't move his legs and when he woke up and wanted to walk around in his crib, he kept falling. Then I found Blankease. It's a blanket sleeper with legs! He loves it and I love it because it keeps him warm and when he wears it, he kinda looks like a clown. He's to cute!

Any way...those are my 2 favs for Asher right now. Enjoy.

Today is Infant Loss Remembrance Day. If you've lost a child or would simply like to honor a lost child you love, light a candle at 7pm tonight, no matter what your timezone, and let it burn for an hour. If everyone lights a candle and keeps it burning, there will be a continuous wave of light for the day.

Our candle will burn for our beautiful daughter, Jorai Mae. We love you and miss you so very much baby girl!

When I was pregnant with Jorai I had a dream she was dead. She was already born...it wasn't a birth dream...but she had drowned as an infant.

Last night I dreamt that I miscarried the baby I'm carrying right now. She dropped out of me still alive. I didn't know what to do so I just held her and her little fingers gripped around mine.

I'm trying to stay positive about this pregnancy. I mean, it was just a dream. But I had a dream about Jorai and I never had a death dream about Asher. I caught myself looking for blood this morning. It was the first time I did that in this pregnancy. I'm glad I'm having an ultrasound on Monday. Maybe it can give me a little relief....I don't know.

I know it all sounds so morbid talking about it and I hate to even go there with baby 3.0 still growing and thriving within me...but I have to say that if I do loose this baby too, I pray I miscarry her. I don't think I can live through another stillborn.

I know it's just a dream...but I just can't shake away this pit in my stomach.

One of the wonderful women bloggers I follow is going to be on Oprah tomorrow. Her name is Stephanie Nielson, aka NieNie. She is a mother of 4, who barely survived a plane crash with her husband in August '08. She is amazing. Seriously. Her spirit and outlook on life inspires me. You should check out her blog and check her out on Oprah tomorrow.

When I was pregnant with Jorai I couldn't wait to be a mama. I couldn't wait to meet this child growing within me...to hear her cries and touch her skin...just to know her. Of course I worried about if I would be a good mama and if I could really do it. All of it. The mentoring and teaching...but most of all, I worried about the patience. Did I really have the patience to be the best parent I could be. I really worried about it. I only wanted to give the best to my children and I never wanted to lose my cool with them.

And then we lost her. For awhile, I even lost the dream of her, of children in general. I couldn't understand why and how God could have taken my sweet child from me and often wondered if He was saving her from hurt...maybe from me...or just from the world. I didn't and still don't know why things happened as they did, but even as I was pregnant with Asher, there was a part of me that thought God would take this child from me as well. I wanted to be wrong, but there was always something pulling at me...nagging at me.

When I let me mind wander to the possibility that Asher could actually be born, alive and healthy, I felt as if I could handle anything. That I would be the best mama to him. That my patience would be shake proof. I would be super mama. I mean, I missed the opportunity to raise and know Jorai, so I would pour into Asher like nothing else. It would be amazing. And most days, I feel pretty good about my parenting. I'm pretty patient. I feel as if I'm doing my best to teach him and raise him well.

And then a day like today comes when I seriously want to place him in the basement and run upstairs to a loud, steamy shower to escape his constant crying and hitting and general grumpiness...which of course makes me feel like the worst mama of the century. Yesterday after about the 10 millionth time of being slapped, bitten or torn at, I screamed NNNNOOOOO!!!! at the top of my lungs. He shuttered and then the look of shear terror ripped across his face before he, himself started screaming and crying. I scared him. It was the first time I scared him. I felt like crap. The entire day, I couldn't think about anything else and wondered how I had just scarred my child.

What is wrong with me? I should be grateful and full of love and patience for my child....not yell when I'm frustrated or look forward to nap time so I can regain my composure. Where did my confidence go where I knew I could handle all this and knew my patience would be enough? And why is it so easy to loose it? Why is it so easy to become frustrated with someone so innocent and is only learning all your rules?

I'm getting my haircut at noon. It couldn't come at a better time. I need a break. Although I'm sure Asher will wake up in a much better mood...well, one can hope anyway!

The thought of becoming a parent and the reality of it, is so very different. A person just has no idea until they're in the thick of it. And I've only gotten 16 months of it...so I know I have WAY more to learn and experience...but man, what a reality check! What am I in for in 6 months when baby 3.0 comes into our lives? I'm worried. I no longer have the innocent 'things will be lovely' outlook. Reality has set it and I just pray that God gives me the strength to raise both of my living children with all the love, support and patience I have.

Asher used to be a fabulous eater. Anything I placed before him was gone. Meat, veggies, fruit, cheese....even beets and broccoli. And then he hit 15 months and everything went down the crapper. Things he'll eat one day will be thrown off his tray another. The only things I know he'll eat is peanut butter on anything, catchup and scrambled eggs. Today, after struggling to get him to eat something for lunch, I caved and gave him apples and peanut butter. After making him a new chicken salad recipe with grapes for dinner, he spat out his test bite and refused to eat anything else. I even tried spaghetti! So again, I caved and gave him...yup...peanut butter on bread.

I'm getting so freakin' frustrated! I keep trying new recipes and new styles but for the most part he either tosses them off his tray...another annoyance of mine...or spits it out and refuses to open his mouth for anything else.

I've seriously considered the 'oh, well...if you're not going to eat what mama gives you, then you'll go to bed hungry' tactic...but I just can't. He's too little and really, I'll be the one getting up with him in the early morning to nurse or feed him, so what's the point?

He refuses all veggies now, unless I hide them. And it pisses me off because I know he likes them. He used to eat them just fine for months! Most meat products I have to dip in catchup, for him to eat them. I need help. I'm getting towards the end of my rope and am about to let Steve make him all his food.

Any suggestions?

Who wrote this trash? Seriously, where did they ever come from? I decided to go out and buy our first nursery rhyme book and was appalled after I read a few...here's a taster:

OK, where do I start? Where the child (or whomever 'I' is in the rhyme) is roaming around in this 'lady's chamber where he finds a creepy old man? Or where if I read this rhyme I would not only be guilting my child to say his prayers or I'd through him down the stairs?

Seriously?

How about Jack and Jill? Didn't Jack break his crown?

Didn't humpty dumpty fall down and die?

How about the baby in Rock-a-bye baby who fell down from the tree, cradle and all?

Or this from There was an old woman:

Whipped them? Oh my.

Seriously?

I just realized that for our third anniversary, we got the gift of hearing our 3rd child's heartbeat for the first time.

Pretty sweet.

Baby 3.0 has yet to receive a nickname yet. Maybe when we have have our first ultrasound in a few weeks, something will come to us.

I keep thinking about the sex...is this going to be a girl...a boy...maybe we'll have both...yea, that's a scary thought. I know people say they don't care what they have, but I really, truly don't have a preference. I think it would be so cool to have another boy so Asher can have little brother to play catch with. I think it would be cool to watch them grow together and build their relationship through the years...I also think it would be cool to have another girl. To be able to see all the differences and experience life with both a boy and a girl would be cool. To watch Asher protect his little sister and again, watch their relationship grow throughout the years...so cool.

What ever we have...boy, girl, twins (still freakin' out!) I can't wait for the new journey. I'm going to treasure each and every moment I have with Asher now and when the new baby comes, I'll cherish those too.

Hearing the heartbeat today was a treasure. Being only 11 weeks, it's a little soon to hear it. But my Dr. was persistent and the heartbeat was strong. So cool. What a gift.

Happy anniversary Steven!

I'm 11 weeks today. The first trimester has been dragging for me. I think it's mostly because I've felt like crud and with the nervousness about twins and still having not seen the dr., which I get to do this coming Thursday, so yea! But I have a feeling that the rest of my pregnancy is going to fly by and in a way, that freaks me out.

I've never really thought about not being able to love this new baby as much as Asher, as I know I will...but what saddens me is when I think about all the time Asher and I have together now and how that'll change. Asher and I have been joined at the hip, unless papa is around and then I'm chopped liver!, for almost 16 months now. It's just been him and I. Buds. But pretty soon, things will change and I'll be back to being held up on the couch with a crazy nursing baby all day. I wonder how that will change Asher and my relationship. I know it'll be hard for the first few weeks/months, but I keep focusing on the future and how close they'll be, becoming buds themselves.

I'm so excited to see both of our living babies play together, laugh together and yes, even argue with one another. I love my brothers. I remember the feeling of love and closeness that I felt when I was young. I always look back to memories of me and my brothers with fondness. I can't wait to encourage ad nurture our children to have those close relationships, as I did.

So I'm looking forward to the future and trying not to worry about the nearer future. This is my mantra.