22 weeks

28 September 2010

In a few days, the baby hits 22 weeks. I've been feeling strange lately and it scares me. I'm hopeful. Hopeful! Having a potential name picked out and dreaming of holding a wiggly baby is seriously making me believe that this may truly happen. Which of course scares me. I know that things can go wrong. I know I could lose this child. I know all the bad stuff...but again, my hope has been over riding the fear. Strange.

It's a wonderful, yet petrifying feeling. But I'm going to run with it. Here's to a healthy baby boy. Oh, and the name...we're thinking seriously about Judah.

Dinner ideas

I used to love cooking and baking. I loved creating new and exciting and healthy meals for me and then for Steve. I loved trying new recipes and planning a night full of yummy food...I would bring leftovers to work for my lunch, I would bake yummy breads and cakes and cookies. But then Asher came into our lives and though my fondness of preparing meals still lingers, the energy and drive to do it is much lacking.

I know I've talk about this before, but I need to change. I need to get my act together. I feel as if I'm a huge failure in the dinner department. My husband rocks. Seriously rocks. And could honestly care less if all nights are FFY nights (fend for yourself nights). But I want to honor him with healthy, yummy meals. I want our child(ren) to have yummy family meals as I did growing up...minus the fish soup, liver and cornbread and beans...sorry mom! I want us to sit around a table and eat a meal that I cooked. Not something I've thrown together at the last minute.

So, I need your help. Share your ideas and tips and experience with me. How do you prepare? Do you use menu plans? Do you wing it? Do you have especially yummy, healthy and easy to make dinner recipes you can share with me? Let me know your thoughts and ideas. I need help. And with the addition of another, probably completely rambunctious, son on the way, I really, truly need help! Please help me...please!


25 September 2010


I had a huge slap in the face moment at Riv tonight as Noel gave a message on worry. I'm actually not a huge worrier...with the exception of 1 thing...death. Not my own. But Asher's and this new little boy growing within me. I think I have good reason, but I also know that if I trusted God, my worry would be easier to deal with. Or at least I would know that I could always go to Him with my worry.

But what finally came crashing in on me was this...I don't trust God anymore. I mean, I trust that His plan for my life and for Steve's life and for my children's lives, will come to fruition. I trust that. His will, will be done. What I don't trust is that I'll get the outcome that I want. In fact, I feel as if there's nothing I can do, to get the outcome I want. And normally it wouldn't be a problem. It's not a job I want, or a bigger house, or a puppy. It's not money or power or a dream to come true. If it were...then I'd be OK with the lot I've been given. But what I want, is life. I want my child's heart to continue to beat. I want my children to breathe and live and create and grow and learn and love. I also don't trust that my prayers are worth more than just simple words.

So what do I do with this? I know now
, after 9 months of wondering, why I can't seem to let my wall down for Christ. I now realize that there's a reason why I can't read His words or talk to Him with any ounce trust that my words are even being heard.

Day after day I hear of another child being taken away by death. My heart just can't comprehend the logic of all this death. All this heartache. All this suffering. I know in my heart that God is all loving and I know that I need to trust that, but if I'm being truthful, I don't feel loved. And so, how can I trust? And if I can't trust, how can I be OK with another one of my children dying? How can I just look my grief in the face and say 'OK Kim, this is what God needs you to go through...this trial is not too big for you to handle, this is good because his will is good." How do I even start to feel OK with all of this?

I want to get back. I was actually there after we had lost Jorai. I was OK. I felt that there was a reason. That God was going to use me through this. But after losing Selah, I've lost it. I feel as if the ability to trust in God's will is just out of reach, but at the same time, I fear I'll never reach out to grab it. It just seems so far away...too heavy to pull in.

Noel's 'task' for us was to share this sin area in our lives, so there it is. I guess it's a pretty big one. I mean...I don't trust God. Saying it kinda scares me. And I even feel ashamed to admit it. But there it is. I don't trust the one person I should. So, here's to trying to push away the fear and find the strength, to reach out and trust the one Man I should.

Sweet boy, you're going to be the death of me!

22 September 2010


Oh, my dear son. I love you so. You bring my such joy and laughter, such pride and love. But there's one more thing you bring me...closer to my death bed each and every day! My goodness child! You are a crazy, wild man who looks at fate and laughs! You're a dare devil. You like all things dangerous and the word fear has never entered your mind. You run and jump and dive and fall into anything. You are trusting of both yourself and others to always protect you. You freak me out!

This summer I witnessed you several times, jump from the top of your 3-foot toddler slide, and fall into a belly flop into your pool. I've watched you learn to ride a bike with training wheels...and keep up with a 3 1/2 year old! I've watched you want to climb a tree already (thanks papa for entertaining him and placing him high up in the branches so now he wants to do it on every tree!). I've seen you leap a good 2 feet in the air on the deep end of the pool, sink under the water and then pop back up sporting a huge smile across your face. Let me remind you...YOUR 2!!! I don't want to even imagine what you'll do next summer or the summers beyond that...and to know I'll have 2 boys. OYE! Remember to always be good to your mama! And know those gray hairs on her head are there for a reason my dear child!

I think last night I lost a few good years in about 30 minutes. Your papa called to tell me to get an ice-pack ready because you had taken a bad fall and was bleeding. Of course I yelled at him to take you immediately to the ER and I hung up the phone, ran around the house like a frantic lady, trying to find the car keys, and t
hen drove like a maniac to the ER. As I ran into the lobby, I heard you crying and when I got to you I swept you up and calmed you down. You were so brave. I was so worried. You looked so sad. So broken. But you weren't. You were fine. In fact 30 minutes after you settled down, you were dancing and running around the lobby! Though today you have been pointing to your sad eye and saying 'ouch mama, eye brake'. Sweet boy.

Papa says you were having a ball at the park chasing your buddy Bryan, when you tripped and landed face first against the side of the
sandbox. You landed right on the corner of your right eye and gave yourself one huge abrasion. You also have abrasions on your nose and forehead and well as your upper cheek. It has also caused you to have a black eye. You look like you got into a bar fight and lost. Every time I look at you, it makes me sad. Poor buddy.

But you're OK. Nothings broken. Nothing s
hould scar. Not even your daring nature...for you decided to throw off the couch cushions this morning and jump from the couch to the floor. You also fell off your bike twice today and climbed a tree. Remember my dear son, you're only 2. You have your whole life to chance fate. How about you take it easy for awhile...please? And remember this sad, sad face the next time you want to chance fate.

sweet baby punkin' buns

20 September 2010

OK, so I don't have a nickname for this little guy growing within me...if I'm being completely honest, I haven't even started his pregnancy book, which I've had for all 21 weeks of pregnancy. But I need to do both.

I'm thinking stink for a nickname, but I want to wait for a little longer. Why stink? Because he's a stinker. He likes to lay low, all stealth like, freaking me out the entire time...but the minute I pull out the doppler and place it against my skin, he kicks or punches or headbutts it off. I barely even press down and he goes crazy. Little stink. He'll also go crazy if Asher sits on my lap. But most days, all day, I barely feel him. Which I know is normal. I'm only 21 weeks...but it still freaks me out like nothing else. Which is why it's such a lovely thing that I purchased that stinkin' doppler. I love that thing! I know it may make some a bit more anxious, but for me, it was worth every penny spent.

I keep getting asked how I am. I never know how to answer. I mean I'm OK, as far as I can be, seeing I've lost 2 of my 3 birthed babies. I'm OK physically. I'm starting to feel tightness in my right hip and some lower back pain...my digestion has slowed way down and so I seem to feel bloated most the day. I'm happy. I have a seemingly healthy babe growing within me. I keep thinking positively and dreaming about Asher having a living sibling. Asher keeps tickling and kissing my belly and he thinks he has a baby in his belly too. He wraps his arms around his belly to 'hug' his baby brother all the time. But I'm freaked out too. In 3 weeks I'll be 24 weeks, the point I lost Selah...I'm in the stillborn phase of pregnancy. Losing this child would be horrible. But the thought of miscarrying seemed so much 'easier'. The miscarriage phase has ended. The thought of that cold hospital room with all the silence, haunts me. Nearly every day, every night, it's there. The memories, the smells, the emotions, the emptiness.

So how do I answer that question? I am OK. But I'm petrified too. I don't want to travel any where for fear that I'll lose this child and have to travel home knowing my child has passed within me. Which I know sounds silly, but I lost Selah in Big Rapids. I found out we lost her in a hospital I used to have such happy memories of. I lost her in my parents house. A house that always brought me love and comfort. Now there's loss there too. I lost her during Christmas celebrations...I don't even want to go there...I just don't want it to happen again. I'm scared. But happy and trying to live in the moment and not what could possibly happen.

So, here's to the next phase in this pregnancy. The scary phase. The stillborn phase. The multiple ultrasounds and possible drugs and c-sections...and hopefully the birthing of a healthy, live baby boy!

Día de los Inocentes


This year, we are celebrating a new family tradition. Día de los Inocentes or The Day of the Innocents. It's the first day, which there are 3, of The Day of the Dead. It begins on November 1st. We'll be celebrating Day of the Dead as well on November 2nd.

I never knew much about the holiday itself, other than it was from Mexico and involved a lot of sweets and skulls. Growing up in a small, very white, farming community, we didn't learn many things out of our own 'culture'. But come to find out, it's a super sweet Mexican holiday that focuses on gathering family and friends to pray for and remember friends and family members who have passed.

Last year, a friend of mine asked if she and her family could include Jorai in their Day of the Dead celebrations and it was then, that I really learned what it is. And I thought, how brilliant! Not only do we have another opportunity to remember and share our daughters lives with our son(s), but we'll have opportunities to share other loved ones lives with them as well. Both of Steve and my grandparents of passed, I have an uncle that passed at an early age, my mom lost a sister at birth, I've lost a dear friend to suicide...the list goes on and on...unfortunately. But what a cool thing to have a celebration of their lives as well as share their lives with 1, hopefully 2, amazing little boys who will never get a chance to meet them here on this earth.

I have a month to plan our festivities. I need to get some pictures together and a decision on a cake or cupcakes...but I'm trying to think of what else. Do any of you have traditions for Día de los Inocentes and Muertos?


16 September 2010


I wish I could trust like I used to. I wish I could have faith like I used to. Before we lost our daughters, I felt as if my faith was unshakable. As if nothing could rock the trust I had. And then June 3rd, 2007 came...and I was rocked...not to the core...but still rocked. My faith came crashing in. My faith hit a road block. But after the initial crushing pain dissipated a bit, I realized that maybe, just maybe losing Jorai happened for a reason. Maybe there is something positive that could shine through this darkness. And for awhile, my trust didn't seem to be so distant. My faith, I realized was still standing.

But then came Selah and once again, I was rocked to the core...though this time I felt different. I felt a darkness I've never felt before. I felt it to my core. I felt torn. Ripped actually. Ripped from my faith. Ripped from my trust. Though I know Truth and Love...I know it stands waiting for me to return, I just can't seem to trust it.

I wish trust came easily for me. I wish I could be like others...others who have gone through loss and seem to only use it for good, seem to only become stronger in their faith. Why can't it just be easy for me...why is it so hard? Why is it so hard to open His word? Why is it so hard to talk with Him? Why is it all so hard. It was never hard. But now...now it's just so hard. I just wish it wasn't so hard.

When I read about Job, I feel crappy. As if my faith must never have been firmly planted. How could he have gone through so much pain and suffering yet still call out to the One he trusts and believes in. I have friends who've gone through losses that have also pushed the darkness away, the fear away, and trusted. How do they do it?

Here I sit. At 20 weeks. The point of no return. The point where if I were to lose this child within me, if I were to lose my son, I would have to deliver him and hold him and see his all too tiny and silent body. I wouldn't come home to balloons, holding a sleepy baby...I'd just have an empty soul...and in time another plastic box filled with a tablespoon of ashes. It shakes me to the core. It scares me beyond all I can imagine. Don't get me wrong...I do think positively of this pregnancy. I think of what it will be like to watch Asher and his brother grow and laugh and play together. I dream of the chance to hold his warm body and hear his cries. I dream of bathing him and nursing him and rocking him to sleep. I dream of watching him sleep and listening to him breathe beside me. But I fear that none of those dream will come to fruition. I fear I will spend another horrific day and night in the hospital to deliver and hold a lifeless child. The fear grips me. I try not to let it take hold, but it does. I try to shake it, but it returns. I try to trust that things will be OK this time, but I can't. I can't trust.

I just can't.

Just sitting here, at the end of my rope.

13 September 2010

Today has been one of those mornings. A morning where you're embarrassed that you're a mom to a child like yours and the mere thought of that, makes you sick and ungrateful as well.

I have loving and tolerant friends. I know they love me and put up with my child, but I'm afraid that a day is coming where no one will want to play with us anymore. And that saddens me. I would totally understand it. But it saddens me.

Asher is a loving, good kid. I love him dearly and madly. But at times he can be an aggressive bully who pushes, pinches, bites and hits. We've tried all kinds of discipline. We've tried calmly talking to him, time-outs, punishing him back, yelling at him...nothing helps. We've started instituting a new rule where if he fights over a toy, uses it as a weapon or throws it, he loses it for the day. Which seems to be working...but what do you do when it only involves him being violent to another child? We're going to start giving him 1 warning and 1 warning only. If he touches another child with his teeth, hands or feet in a non-loving manner, he will be taken away from the situation for the rest of the day. If we're at the park or someone's house, we will leave. If it's at our house, he will be taken upstairs where he will play alone until people leave.

Today he lost his privilege to play with any friend or watch any tv for the rest of the day. Which will make an interesting day since we're also down 1 drumstick from him throwing it at me earlier. But I'm sick of his behavior and I sick of feeling like a failure as a mom and I'm sick of worrying if my friends will stop playing with us because my son is so violent.

I'm just at a loss. I know it's partially a boy thing. I know it's partially a personality thing. But I'm sick of making excuses for him. I no longer care if my day is ruined by having to spend it locked in the house, alone with a toddler. I'm just not going to deal with this behavior any longer. And I'm sick of being on edge and at times, losing it and being violent back at him. I must confess, after watching him push down and then slap a 1-year old across the face today, I picked him up and slapped him hard across the face back. I felt horrible. I felt like everyone was watching me and judging me...I felt like I just scarred my child. But what do you do? What do you do when your 2-year old slaps another child across the face? And how does he even know how to do that? I'm just at a loss. I'm a wreck. I feel awful and I'm just sitting here crying.

It makes me feel like a failure. Who raises a child to act like this? It makes me feel abusive. Who slaps their 2-year old back? It makes me feel like an ungrateful bitch. Who loses 2 children and is still embarrassed with her only living son? It makes me feel undeserving to even be pregnant with this child...and it makes me wonder if this is why God keeps allowing us to lose our other babies. Maybe he knows I'm a crap mom.

I just don't know how a loving, happy, sweet child, can turn, and out of nowhere be a mean kid. I want to help him direct his aggression. I want to help him love on other people, not be cruel. I just don't know what I'm doing wrong.