Showing posts from April, 2010

Gotta love babyzone.

I subscribed to the babyzone emails after Asher was born to get the weekly...'this is what your baby is doing this week' emails. They always seem one step ahead of you with stuff. Like when I'm reeling about Asher's latest developmental milestone that makes my life significantly harder, the next day I surprisingly get an email telling me that my child will probably start acting out.

Today's email was entitled 'Making way for baby #2'. Stab.

Ironic, in a few weeks we will be trying for another baby...but it's not #2...not even will be our #4. Now granted I never got to bring home baby #1 and baby if I get pregnant and if I carry the baby to term and if I deliver a healthy, screaming will be our #2 baby we brought home warm and wiggly. But I could really have done without the reminder.

pissed, pissed, pissed, pissed!!!!

Let me preface...I'm so pissed off right now that I'm shaking.

I've never understood bitter, shitty people. I've never understood how someone can be so bitter that they treat everyone like poo. I've been mad before and lashed out. But to be continually mean to everyone and treat people like dirt is totally uncalled for. I think people like that should be mandated to go through intensive therapy.

Our neighbor, who owns the house but rents it out and then screws people out of money in the end, has been super mean and down right devious to many of our current and previous neighbors. We've heard story after story about the guy and both Steve and I have sat there, cringed at the story, but always gave the guy the benefit of the doubt since we had never met him. I personally had never met the guy until earlier this month when he told me to get my kid of his yard. Oh...Hi...Yea, I'm your neighbor...nice to meet you. Jackass.

Today, Steve picked up a certif…


On December 19, 2009 I lost my daughter Selah. On December 21, I delivered very tiny and so utterly still. Not only was my heart crushed...but in three days I had to celebrate Christmas...and I knew it was going to be horrid.

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I love the entire season. The smells and sights and sounds. I love it all. From Thanksgiving through New Years is my ultimate favorite time of year. But last year...I just wanted it all to end. Christmas Eve service at church...which was something I had been waiting for because we had missed this service for the past dew years...was horrible. Seeing all the families...all the brothers and sisters...the songs...I just sat there and cried. I hated it. Every second. The whole Christmas season just sucked. Even in January when I would see a house still lit up in Christmas lights, I wanted to scream.

I've been 'worrying' about this coming Christmas since January. I think in a way, Chris…

loss, life and the world in-between

Since losing Jorai, I have found a world of beautiful women who unfortunately share my tragic story. All of our stories are different. Some have lost one child, some two, some three, and some so many more. Some have lost their child before they could even birth and hold them. Some birthed their child silent and either chose to hold them, or not. Some got to spend a few hours or days or weeks or months with their child before tragedy hit. We're all different. But we're all the same. We're all babyloss mama's.

Some of us cope well. Though we're rocked to the core with devastation, we find our way out and continue on with hope. Others struggle to find reason and peace with life. We may trod on, day to day and find happiness again, but still look at others and hurt. And others...some of us really struggle with life. Struggle with happiness. Struggle to breathe. We all grieve and heal different. But we're all the same.

I love my family and friends,…

feeling sad

I've been having a loss of words lately. I'm not really sure where I stand...where my emotions are or how I even really feel. But today, as I was trying to sort and pack up all the clothes that no longer fit my sweet boy, I ran across a bag of baby girl clothes. Some were given to me and others were pieces I purchased as I knew I was pregnant with girls. I went through each shirt...each sweater, each pair of pants and the lone pair of flowery sandals. I looked at how dainty they all were. How pink and frilly they were. And all of a sudden it hit me again...all the clothes I was packing up of Ashers, I have memories of him wearing. His shoes were all worn on the toes. But the little girl clothes all had tags...they had no memories attached to them...they had no scuffs or tears or stains. And they probably never will.

I packed each and every piece of girl clothing in a bin, knowing that I should probably put them in the the garage sale pile. But I just couldn't…


Last week I blogged about J.G., the stuffed giraffe we got after we lost Jorai and how much Asher loves her. I mentioned that I wanted to get another stuffed friend for Asher in memory of Selah. A dear friend who read the post, made us an elephant in memory of Selah and I love it. She sleeps right next to Turtle, Ostrich and J.G in Asher's crib. I feel so blessed to have such loving, wonderful friends in my life.

Here she is...we're still seeing where names go...we're thinking Ellie right now.

terrible 22 months?

I feel like a crap mom. I know I'm not, but I feel that way because I want to just give up. I never thought I'd say 'no' so many times each day only to have it fall on deaf ears. I want to yell, scream, hit...maybe throw down for a good temper tantrum...

Asher is testing us at every turn. He runs away from us and doesn't stop. He'll inch closer and closer to the street, all the while looking at us with his 'I'm testing you' look and smirk...and if we say 'no', he continues. If we say stop, he continues. If we call his name, he continues. Nothing I say or do, changes the outcome of his behavior and I'm at my breaking point. Nothing stops him, but him. In the house, I put him in timeout (I use a pack-n-play since he won't sit still)...but when we're outside, I don't know what to do.

I feel bad wanting to give up. I feel like a failure. Then I feel guilty because unlike many of my babyloss friends, I was gifted this…

Look who's turning two

In exactly two months, Asher will be 2. 2!. I never really thought I'd truly have a living child...let alone have him turn 2. I'm excited to celebrate with our family. I was thinking of inviting some of his friends...but I think we're going to stick with just family again this year. Another bbq with outdoor games. I think Asher will have a blast with his cousins.

I've been trying to think of what we want to do for his birthday cake this year. Last year I made a small, round, carrot cake for Asher and cupcakes for everyone else. While talking to a dear friend on Friday, as we searched for a resting place for Selah...which we didn't find...I thought a drum cake! But do you make a drum set cake? I found a picture I want to base my creation on...but I'm not a very good cake creator...with the exception of a typical round cake. So I'm a bit nervous. I don't want it to be a disaster...but if done right, it could look really cool.

For all my…

T-minus 3 days

Selah's due date is on Saturday. So far I'm doing O.K. But I just keep thinking about what I would be doing at any given moment...
I would be huge.
I would be waddling.
I would be contracting on and off.
I would be feeling my daughter within
I would be packing for the hospital.
The 'guest' room would no longer be a guest room, but a nursery.
I would have baby clothes and diapers nicely folded in her new room.
I wouldnot have a plastic box containing my daughter, resting on the piano.
I would be excited and apprehensive and planning.
I would be explaining the arrival of the new baby to Asher...getting him ready for his sibling..his sister.
I would be doing so much...feeling so much...but all that is gone. In three days, or five if I went into labor like I did with Asher, I would be delivering another very loud, pink, wiggly little bundle of joy and blessing. But instead of holding my beautiful, breathing, sweet little girl, I'll be grievin…


After Jorai passed, a wonderful women who follows this blog, gave us a stuffed giraffe. She said that it reminded her of Jorai, because she remembered the post of the pictures we hung in the nursery. One of the pictures was a mama giraffe bending down to kiss her baby on the head. As soon as I read the note that came with the giraffe, I was touched. I bawled. It was one of the most thoughtful gifts we got and I've treasured it. Thank you Cindy.

When Asher came into our lives, I wanted so badly for Asher to love the giraffe as much as I did. I wanted it to be his playmate, but it was always only me, encouraging the bond. It spent every night, sleeping along side Asher since he was little, but there was never a need to 'remember' it, as he could really care less.

But then last December, Asher 'found' his friends. He has 3 friends. Turtle, ostrich and J.G., the giraffe. We call the giraffe J.G. after Jorai. Jorais' giraffe. Every day he asks about T…