Gotta love babyzone.

26 April 2010

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 certified letter from his attorney telling us that we have until June 1st to move our play structure 6' from the property line or he'll start legal action on us. The letter also said that he has asked us more than once to move it. Ya know...that would be nice...having a neighbor walk to your door and ask politely to move something. Unfortunately that never happened. The only conversation I've had with the prick is when he told me to get my kid off his yard.

To top it off. Our play structure is in the back corner...there is no grass on his side, no garden, no nothing. He's just being a prick to be prick. It's not even on his property...he just wants it 6' because he can. I want to get a surveyor out here to show us our property line...but that costs money. I want to fight it, but that costs money. I want to rip off the guys fake arm and smack him upside the head...but obviously I can't do that. I want to scream What an ass!

Our neighborhood rocks. It really, truly does. There are amazing people here. But this jackass...I'm thinking about moving it until he leaves and then moving it back...or telling him to take us to court and then continually asking for extensions just to be a jerk. That's not me. I'm not a jerk. In fact I usually bend over backwards for people. But I don't handle getting pushed very well. I think a fight is on. He better get ready.

Anyone have any good legal advice or know someone who does cheap to free land surveys?


25 April 2010

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, Christmas for me has been ruined. There will always be the memory of the stillness of December 22, 2009.

Last night, a friend nonchalantly was talking about the Christmas cookies she baked last year, and my first reaction was! I actually felt joy. I was excited to think about the possibility of making cookies with Asher and leaving out a plate of them for santa. I then thought, 'but what about Selah...shouldn't I be sad because that holiday is now tainted with tragedy?'. But I still felt a joy. Joy? Wow!

I'm not saying that all is right and when fall turns to winter I will only feel joy. I think there will be times of deep sadness...but the joy I felt in the car last night, was such a surprising feeling. Joy is a beautiful feeling.

loss, life and the world in-between

24 April 2010


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, but they have no idea of my pain. And unfortunately, there's nothing I can do to help them understand. I want them to. But they can't. They feel their own loss and they see my pain...but that's where it ends.

The deep down guttural pain I feel is indescribable. It's a pain no one can describe. A loss so big it aches. Every second of the day. There's not one day that goes by that I don't think of my girls. Not one. I have three children, but only one gets birthday cards and presents and hugs. Only one gets talked about and asked about and remembered. Only one. And most people don't get that...but babyloss mama's do.

I feel like I live a fractured life since losing my girls. I have family and friends that I adore and I pour into 100%. But there's always this gaping hole that can't get filled with anyone who hasn't gone through a loss like mine. It's a beautiful, heartbreaking thing.

Like I've said over and over and over again, I would hate for people to treat me differently. I don't want people to watch their mouths or actions. But it hard sometimes to walk this road alone. There are times I wish I had another babyloss mama who could walk with me, hand in hand, through life. So when someone says something that stings, or one or both of my girls is left out of something, I could feel a gentle squeeze against my hand and instantly know that I'm not alone. That there is one person who gets the hurt and will be there by my side for support and comfort. Of course, I know this can't happen. But it would be so lovely.

My life is filled with joy. Asher makes me laugh each and every day. It's beautiful. Without him, I truly think I may not have made it through the darkness. But there's this hole that's left in your life when you lose a child. I have two holes. And I don't only have two holes, but I have two holes and a huge question mark looming over head. Why? Why did my girls not survive? I think of my loss, my grief, the question why, and now the possibility of either going through another loss or getting another miracle baby, daily. Every. Single. Day.

And what's that even though my life has changed so much and has been so challenging...others have been so blessed. Time after time after time. Everyone around me is pregnant or delivering or just delivered. There's joy and laughter and excitement and blessings flowing all around. And it's a wonderful, marvelous thing. I wouldn't want it any other way. It's what I want. And it's what I want for others. But that doesn't make it any easier to hear and see. Every time I hear something or see something or read's another stab to my heart. To my hope. I wish it wasn't like that. I wish I could be happy for my friends and let it go. But it's hard. It's hard to see them have one, two, three, four...healthy children and me and my friends have gone through so much loss and darkness.

I'm trying to find solace in my walk. After losing Jorai, I held onto the hope that I was needed to walk this path for a reason. Maybe to help others...maybe something else. Her loss was painful, but I felt there was a reason we had to lose her. But to lose Selah too, it's been so hard to find solace. I just don't get it.

I talked to my OB-GYN this week and she wants me to try again. She doesn't want me to be hardened. She really wants me to give it another go. She wants me to try for a boy. She wants me to research collagen increasing foods that may help cord growth. But that question stands looming. What if? What if I lose this child too? What if I find myself with another lifeless child in my arms? Could I survive it? I want to try...but those nine months would be torture. They would be hell.

I don't know. Most days I'm good. Asher is a joy to behold. His smile is infectious and his attitude is invigorating. But there's always something missing. There's always two little girls absent from our lives. And there's a constant feeling of dread about the future that seems to loom over my head.

And I know that I'm not alone. There are so many women out there who feel the same way I feel. There are so many of us searching and missing and longing for life. And though that brings me joy to know I'm not alone...I wish I were. For I hate that anyone has to go through this with me.

If you know someone who's lost a child. Remember them. Remember their child. Send them a card on their child's birthday. Or send them a care package telling them you love them. Their children may not be with us, here on earth, but there's not one day that passes, that their mama isn't missing them dearly. Next Sunday, May 2nd, is International Babylost Mothers Day. Please remember them on this special day.

feeling sad

18 April 2010


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. I couldn't.

I feel a bit weepy tonight. I keep think what my life should be like right now. I should be exhausted because I've been up all day and night with a hungry little newborn girl named Selah. I should be surrounded with diapers and ointments and sweet newborn smells. I should be hearing quick breathes and feeling a warm, wiggly body laying against me. I should be feeling and experiencing so much...but I'm not. I should be seeing Asher dote on his little sister...bringing her treats and kissing her, just as I see him doing with his other little friends...but I don't. And that makes me sad.


12 April 2010

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 marvelous child and I should be happy each and every moment I have with him. And he is an amazing child...full of spunk and spit-fire and joy...but he's also filled with the dickens. Full to the rim.

I usually talk sternly to him and then explain why he can't do something. I take things away and I don't give them back. I put him into timeout. I've tried spanking him, but he just hits me back...I think that spanking may work for some kids...I'm not sure it will work for Asher.

I think I just need to leave friends and situations when Asher acts out, bring him back to the house and put him in timeout. But I hate to leave my mama time...and I need it too! Asher needs me to have it!

I don't know. Mama's with very active boys out there, have any ideas?

Look who's turning two

11 April 2010

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 baking friends out there, do you have any ideas of how to make a cake like this? How do I keep the 'bass drum' up? And what do you think the cymbal is?

or what about this...

T-minus 3 days

07 April 2010

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.
would be waddling.
would be contracting on and off.
would be feeling my daughter within
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.
would not have a plastic box containing my daughter, resting on the piano.
I would be excited and apprehensive and planning.
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 grieving her. Life isn't fair and I want to slam my body down upon the ground and kick and scream in God's presence.

I keep seeing my friends post about how lucky and blessed they are...or that they have this kick ass,
amazing life. And though I'm so happy for them and want only happiness and blessing to fall upon their lives...I also want to puke. Don't get me wrong...I have a pretty darn happy life. I have a super sweet husband who rocks and whom I love dearly, and a son who is absolutely amazing and lovely and who fills my heart each and every day. I have friends who love me and support me and who are amazing...and a family whom I love...but I've also gone through hell and the feelings of cold, dark fingers pulling me down into the abyss, still haunt me. I have a love-hate relationship with my life. It's been a rough road these past 3 years...a road I never thought I'd have to travel. Maybe I'm jealous of my friends who have such a 'blessed' life. Maybe I'm just starting to relate more to those who've seen the darkness. I don't know.

What I do know, is that in three days, my little girl was suppose to come into our lives, alive and warm. We were suppose to be able to meet her, get to know her, love her and watch her grow. But we won't be able to do that. We don't get that blessing. And that sucks. We should be all happy and giddy and excited. But we're not. We're just not.

I miss you sweet, baby girl. You're forever imprinted on my heart and in my soul. You are my beautiful sunshine, my sweet daughter. I love you and miss you so.


03 April 2010

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 Turtle, ostrich and J.G. Every night he has to sleep with them. It's really quite cute.

Tonight, as I laid Asher down he cried out "J.G.?" As I handed him that little stuffed giraffe, the one I so desperately wanted him to love as I did, I watched him cradle it in his arms and then bring it up for a quick kiss before falling to sleep.

I don't know why that brings me so much joy. It's just a silly little stuffed giraffe...but I guess it's a small little piece of Jorai. A small piece, that Asher can hold on to and love. Him loving that stuffed giraffe, in a way, makes me feel that he gets to snuggle a bit with his big sister. And that's a joy I can't explain.

I wish we had something like that for Selah. I want Asher to have something. I need to start looking. We lost Selah so soon. My mom had already finished Jorai's blanket when we had lost her, so we have that...but we don't have a blanket for Selah. We have a quilt a friend gave me...but that's for me. I want something for Asher. But then, it kind of makes me feel a bit silly my son a silly inanimate object to cuddle with because he can't cuddle with his sisters...but really, that's all that we have. I hate to admit that...but it is. We have J.G., Jorais' blanket, 2 painted boxes filled with blood stained clothes and tiny crocheted blankets, a few photos and 2 bags of ashes. I hate that.

Asher's been holding his friends hands lately and I love it. But I have to say that when he grabs a hold of his girl friends hand, reality sets in. Seeing him from the back, holding the hand of a little girl...I can't help but let my mind wander. He'll never know the warmth of either one of his sisters hands. Today someone asked him if one of his friends was his sister. What a stab to the heart.

I guess that's why it almost brings me to tears, to see him kiss and cuddle with that silly little giraffe. Not that he knows what the giraffe means to me...or that it brings him closer to his sister...but for me, it brings a little joy into my heart.