Phoenix Rising

parenting lessons learned

2011-12-30T12:26:00.003-05:00

I've wanted to post this for awhile now but never knew how to say it in a loving way...here's my attempt.

In my opinion, it takes a village to raise a child. I'll never forget when we started potty training Asher and I had posted on facebook that he was in big boy undies and doing a great job going potty. That weekend a dear friend walked right past me and up to Asher at Church, knelt down to his level and excitedly praised and encouraged his efforts and successes on the potty. As I witnessed this, tears came to my eyes. For the first time, I witnessed how proud a child can be when they are praised by someone other than their parents. It will be a memory I will always cherish. On the same token, I have witnessed the look in my son's eyes when someone is looking at him in loathing or disappointment when he is doing something they think is inappropriate. And unfortunately, most of the time it's his valiant attempt to get someones attention when they're ignoring him.

Parenting has been the hardest job I have ever embarked on. It is of course the most rewarding as well and I love my children fully and all encompassing, but it's hard. Some days, it's really, really hard. And in those hard times, this is what I've learned. There are people who unconditionally love and support me and for that, I'm am whole heartily thankful. And there are others who aren't so supportive. They are the "I can't believe your child is doing this or that.", "You must be blind to not see your child is delayed.", "I only had to tell my child one time not to do something and he/she never did it again." I just don't understand. these people. Parenting is not an avenue to make someone feel like a failure, but rather a platform to bring people together. It's not a competition or a race or a way to see who's child is better. Every child develops and acts in their own time frame and ways. Each child is individual. And most parents are only making the best decisions they can for their family. They are not telling you that your way is wrong, at least most aren't!, they are not bad parents if they don't do everything you did or think they should do nor are they blind at how their child is developing. To these people, I can only say one thing. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you feel you have to put others down to build yourself up. We should be in community and not at odds.

So, why am I sorry? Because I know what true friends are. I know how true friends treat one another, and I know how you can be 100% honest with them and they'll come back with only loving, constructive opinions and unconditional support. They don't put you down. They don't send anonymous letters bashing you and your family. They are loving and supportive. They listen and not judge and are patient. True friends are community. They're family.

This is what I know about me. I love my children with all that I have. They bring me joy and a love I've never known. They teach me and amaze me every day. In saying that, I fail them nearly every day. I either lose my patience or temper, I yell way to often, I fail in choosing nice words at times, I let them watch too much tv...you name it...at times I fail. But I try my best. I try to explain and be compassionate without being a doormat, I try to encourage them and support them, I teach them kindness and I can honestly say that there has only been 2 nights that Asher went to bed knowing I was mad. And I still feel guilty about it. I teach them discipline and respect and most important I teach them about unconditional love and how to treat and love people.

Why am I saying all of this? Why am I being so open and honest? Because as moms and dads, I we need to be. We need to be supporting one anther. We need to have support groups that we can trust to be open with, to be honest with. We need to help one another and encourage one another and make each other KNOW that we're not alone. We have to stop judging and slandering and making people believe that they're failing....because as parents, we're already pretty good at thinking we're failures.

To my friends, thank you. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for supporting me. Thank you for letting me, be me and fostering a relationship in which I can be 100% open and honest. At any time, I know I can bare my soul and know that I will not be judged, but only loved. Some of you supported me in a way last night that I can't express my thanks enough. It has been a few hard weeks over here and last night I had a bit of a breakdown. Thank you for being honest with me. Thank you for loving me. And thank you for supporting me.

Something I've been wrestling with

2011-12-06T17:00:00.000-05:00

Preface...this is me verbally vomiting a faith struggle of mine. I'm a work in progress, especially in my faith walk. I'm just trying to wrap my mind and heart around...

Prayer. Prayer has always been a common sense thing to me...a way to praise God, a way to talk to him, a way to ask for forgiveness, help...you name it, it's an open conversation. An ever willing open ear...and one that doesn't even talk back!

When you're going through a hard time, Christians tell you to pray...if you need answers, you find them in prayer...want a good outcome? pray. Good health? pray. A miracle? Pray. And I think this is wonderful. Pray, pray, pray. Prayer isn't my issue. This is my issue...

When there's a positive outcome, it's positive because you prayed for it to be. God "answered your prayer". But what happens when you pray for a good outcome and you don't get it. And not even that...what do you say to people who say "Look at this amazing blessing God has given you!" when you have a good outcome, but when bad things happen the same person will say "God didn't do this, God didn't allow this to happen." How can He be praised for all the good stuff that happens but then if bad things befall us, He has had nothing to do with it?

After losing two children, this is still a hard concept for me to wrap my mind around. Do I pray? All the time. Do I pray for the protection and health of my children? All the time. But in all honesty, I have a hard time knowing my prayers matter. I mean, I know they matter in the sense that I believe God wants to have conversations with us and that He loves us...but I don't know if my prayers really, truly make a difference in the outcome of my children's life. I want to believe that they do, but I can't stop thinking about how much I prayed for Jorai and Selah...and yet they were still taken from me.

I know this may sound silly...but I was watching that new show on Lifetime called One Born Every Minute the other night. There was a girl who wasn't progressing "fast enough" and the docs were threatening a c-section. The girls mom or baby daddy's mom started praying and talking in tongues and voila, she starts progressing...so they raise up their hands and praise God. But was it God who answered that prayer? Or was it her body progressing in the time frame it needed to progress? And what would they have said if she didn't progress and needed a c-section? Would they still have praised God? Even when they got an outcome different than what they wanted?

Again, I think prayer is wonderful. I think God listens to our prayers and answers them...but I have issue with what happens when we don't get a good outcome. I have some friends that have issue with God because they've had crappy things happen to them over and over again. In their perspective, what kind of loving God would take not one, not two, but three + babies away from the same woman? What loving God would allow abuse or rape or disasters? In my faith wrapped heart, I know it's not God that allows bad things to happen. They are a by-product of our fallen world...but again, my thoughts go back to...if we praise God for answered prayers? He must, in-fact, answer them. In saying that, doesn't that mean that he doesn't answer prayers too? How else do you wrap your mind around praying so fervently about something, only to have it taken away?

I know in all things, God uses us for His glory. His good. I know that we are given struggles to mold us into the person God wants and needs us to be. And that He uses all the good and the bad in our lives. I feel we went through our losses for a reason. I feel that He now uses us to reach out to others. To help others. And I embrace that. I wear it like a badge of honor. I miss my girls. Though I feel raped of the opportunity to know them and to have watched them grow. But I'm also joyful for the opportunity to be able to help others in a way most people cannot. I'm "OK" with my lot. I'm just confused. How do you pray? How do you have a prayerful heart without expectations and how can you be OK with the answer or rather lack of answer you receive? Would you be OK praying for your child for months only to get an answer of death? And if that happens, do you then praise Him for it?

I keep thinking of the song Blessed Be Your Name where they say "He gives and takes away.". And though I don't believe it's technically biblical. It totally rings true for me. No matter how fervently I pray. NO matter how much. I may not get the the answer I seek. And if I do get it, it may then be ripped from my hot little hands in no time at all. So again, I have to ask myself...other than an open conversation with Jesus...which is awesome...why pray about the things you seek, the health of your family and friends? In the end does it really matter? And if it does, what did we do wrong in our prayers for our girls?

Just some thoughts and questions rattling around in my soul.

my little, big boy

2011-12-06T15:09:00.002-05:00

The rocking chair in Greyson's room is pushed into the South-West corner of his room. Every time I nurse/rock him to sleep, I stand up, cradling him in my arms as his head nestles into the crook of my neck. I always love that feeling. His warm breath against my skin.

On the wall, in-between the rocking chair and his crib, hangs a large mirror. Each time I walk towards the crib with my little sleeping child nuzzled in close, I look at us in the mirror. After losing Jorai...and then again after losing Selah, I would dream about this. The feeling of the warm breath of a sleeping child against my skin. Feeling their weight in my arms, their warm body pressed into mine. I think it's one of the best feelings in the world. A sleeping child, perfectly secure and loved and comforted in your arms.

Today, as I was relishing in the joy of snuggling my baby, I looked up into that mirror and almost fell over. Where did my little baby go? No longer is there a sweet bundle of baby. He has been replaced by a gigantic toddler. His arms and torso nearly completely cover my chest, his head barely fits in the crook of my neck and his legs fall down past my waist, hitting the middle of my thighs! WOW. My 10 month old outweighs his 2 year old friends and is in 18-24 month shirts. My dear sweet baby boy is a giant. But I don't care...he'll always be my sweet baby boy. And I'll continue to cradle him and nuzzle him for as long as he lets me.

Here's to you my sweet little boy. You are a joy and a blessing to my family.

Lost For Words Cards

2011-10-16T21:35:00.002-04:00

A friend of mine just let me know of a cool site where you can order personalized cards for loss. It’s called Lost For Words Cards. I’m not sure how I missed this, but I’m glad I’ve found it! It’s another amazing venture from Carly Marie Dudley and Franchesca Cox. Lost For Words specializes in cards for pregnancy loss, infant loss and infertility. Go check it out and share with your friends.

Below are their categories of cards.

Anniversaries and Birthdays
Baby’s Due Date
Birthday Cards To Children In Heaven
Celebration Of Life
Certificates of Life
Christmas
Fathers Day
Friendship Between Babylost Parents
General Pregnancy and Infant Loss
Gravely Ill Babies and Children
Hospital Memory Boxes
Infertility
Miscarried Babies
Mothers Day
Newborn Babies (After a Loss)
NICU and Premature Babies
NICU Nurse Day (Septemer 15th)
October 15th Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness NEW!
Offering Hope
Pregnancy After Loss
Siblings
Termination of Pregnancy
The Loss of a Daughter
The Loss of a Grandchild
The Loss of Multiple Children
The Loss of a Nephew
The Loss of a Niece
The Loss of a Son
The Loss of One Twin

selfishness

2011-09-24T21:42:00.003-04:00

This is a bit convoluted, so sorry in advance...I just wanted to get it out before life gets loud and I forget my thoughts.

There's a huge part of me that still screams out "give me back my daughter(s)!" As a parent, I think that's normal and expected. It's natural to never want to see your child suffer or be taken before you. We've all heard that "A parent should never have to bury their child". In our hearts and in our minds, the order is backwards. I miss my girls. I desperately want to be in their presence. Look into their eyes, feel their skin, hear their laughter. But tonight at Riv, I was also reminded how selfish I am when I'm angry at God for the suffering I've had to endure.

And I say this with a caveat. I think it's normal and OK (totally OK) to be mad at God after a loss. Christian or not, being mad at God is OK. It's all a process. I also totally believe that even in your anger, He's standing there, holding you through your pain. But tonight, I was reminded that in all things, God is great. And that He uses all people, all circumstances, for His greater good. I never meant to be selfish in my loss. I never really though of it that way. And I know that in my circumstance, maybe it's OK to be a little selfish. My child died. I can be selfish...but at the same time, being selfish will only push me further away for Christ. And really, what good it that?

I've always wanted to think that we lost our girls for a reason. That their brief life wasn't all in vain. Wasn't all by chance. Wasn't all just a turn of the cards. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around that in the first place. As if life is just a crap shoot. As if we're all here stumbling around, created by chance, living for nothing, and dying only to rot away. I can't see it.

So, when Jorai passed, I "knew" or at least wanted to think, that her brief life meant something. That I had to lose her for my life to touch someone...change something. And though losing Selah, shook my foundation, there was still this hope that her death had purpose. Her life and imprint on my heart, had purpose.

Tonight's message reminded me that their lives, our loss, our pain, all has a purpose. I can't rejoice in my loss. I can't thank God for my suffering. I'm no where near that nor do I think I'll ever be that person. I want my babies back. I have no problem confessing that. Selfishly, it sucks. I'm mad. I cry out, "Why me, Lord?". But I also embrace that their lives had meaning and that I hold fast to that knowledge. I hold fast that through their short but meaningful lives, God shines and He'll use their lives, their story, my loss, our sorrow, for His goodness. His glory. I know for a non-believer this may be too much...it may be wacko. I was there once. I would have spent 1 minute reading this and then wrote it off as crazy talk...but my heart has changed and for me, this is the only thing that makes sense.

Tonight, the band played Never Let Go. Not sure who wrote it...but it just really rang true tonight.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
Your perfect love is casting out fear
And even when I'm caught in the middle of the storms of this life
I won't turn back, I know you are near

I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear
Whom then shall I fear

Oh no You never let go through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go in every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go, Lord, You never let go of me

And I can see the light that is coming for the heart that holds on
A glorious light beyond all compare
And there will be an end to the struggles
But until that day comes, we'll live to know You here on the Earth

And I will fear no evil
For my God is with me
And if my God is with me
Whom then shall I fear
Whom then shall I fear

You keep on loving and you never let go

And i can see a light that is coming for the heart that holds on
and there will be and end to the struggles
but until that day comes
Still I will praise you
Still I will praise you.

I know I've talked about this before, but when we lost Jorai, as devastated as I was, I knew in my heart that God was near and that though her loss sucks and I was full of sorrow and sadness, there was a reason. But when we lost Selah, my faith was rocked. I was torn. I was crushed. I was selfishly pissed and wanted to curse God. Well, I did curse God to tell you the truth. But I knew God remained by my side. Waiting for me to accept the love He wanted to show me.

"Oh no You never let go through the calm and through the storm
Oh no, You never let go in every high and every low
Oh no, You never let go, Lord, You never let go of me"

Tonight I was reminded that it's not about me. Whether my girls were taken from me for a reason or they just passed because of something doctors couldn't find, it doesn't matter. God will use my suffering to help others. I may not know who and when He'll help others, but He will. And I'm also reminded that no matter what hell on earth I go through, He never let's me go. He's there, holding me through the pain. And for that I rejoice.

To You be the glory. I'm still sad. I still mourn. I still cry out at times. But to you God, be the glory.

wow.

2011-07-31T13:23:00.005-04:00

OK...have to preface twice today...

First, I know some of you who follow my blog aren't believers in Christ and so I'm warning you that this post is about Heaven and children. I understand if you don't want to continue, but I must say, that although in my faith, I have always believed that I would see my girls again, this passage made my heart leap for joy.

Second, this is a story I can't authenticate. It's from "Heaven is For Real" and is about a nearly 4 year old that was all but dead after a ruptured appendix that wasn't found for 5 days. Months later and then over a course months, he continued to tell his parents snippets of his time in Heaven. I am a skeptic. A huge one. I like proof of everything. I have a hard time believing stories. But while reading this story, I believe it. I can't tell you why, I just do.

Colton was the little boy who 'visited' Heaven. His parents, Todd and Sonja, have 2 living children. In between their daughter and son, they miscarried. Here's a passage from the book.

...I heard Conton's footsteps padding up the hallway and caught a glimpse of him circling the couch, where he planted himself directly in front of Sonja. "Mommy, I have two sisters," Colton said. .... Sonja looked up from her paperwork and shook her head slightly. "No, you have your sister Cassie, and...do you mean your cousin, Traci?" "No." Colton clipped off the word adamantly. "I have two sisters. You had a baby die in your tummy, didn't you?

At that moment, time stopped in the Burpo household, and Sonja's eye's grew wide. ... "Who told you I had a baby die in my tummy?" Sonja said. "She did, Mommy. She said she died in your tummy."

... I knew what my wife had to be feeling. Losing that baby was the most painful event in her life. We had explained it to Cassie; she was older. But we hadn't told Colton, judging the topic a bit beyond a four-year-old's capacity to understand. ...

"It's OK Mommy." he said. "She's OK. God adopted her". Sonja slid off the couch and knelt down infront of Colton so that she could look him in the eyes. "Don't you mean Jesus adopted her?" she said. "No Mommy, His Dad did!"

"Sonja focused on Colton and I could hear the effort it took to steady her voice. "So what did she look like?" "She looked a lot like Cassie." Colton said. "She is just a little bit smaller and she has dark hair".

...Now Colton went on without prompting. "In Heaven, this little girl ran up to me, and she wouldn't stop hugging me," he said in a tone that clearly indicated he didn't enjoy all this hugging from a girl. "Maybe she was just happy that someone from her family was there." Sonja offered. "Girls hug. When we're happy, we hug." Colton didn't seem convinced.

Sonja's eyes lit up and asked "What was her name? What was the little girls name?" "She doesn't have a name. You guys didn't name her." How did he know that? "You're right Colton, we didn't even know she was a she." Sonja said.

Then Colton said something that still rings in my ears: "Yeah, she said she just couldn't wait for you and Daddy to get to Heaven."

I don't know why reading this made my day. This is a story from one family's brush with death and the after-life. It could be true, it could be all made up. I don't know. But thinking that Jorai and Selah may have been adopted by God and can't wait for Steve and I to get to Heaven, warms my heart. And I just needed to share.

"rainbow" baby

2011-07-26T14:28:00.003-04:00

Let me preface!!! Whatever helps mend your heart or remember your child, I think you should go with! This is solely my opinion and my opinion alone. Please don't take offense!

When you have a living child after a loss, there are a ton of people who call this your rainbow baby. I've always hated the term. It made no sense to me. In my mind and heart, my living child is no more a rainbow, as the child I lost is a cherub or butterfly for that matter. And though a ton of folks in the babyloss community like to call the child they lost an angel, for me, it's just plain silly. Angels are warriors of God, not sweet, precious children who die all too soon.

Well, over 4 years after losing Jorai, I finally came across a poem of what an "Angel Baby" is, and though I still kind of hate the term, I absolutely LOVE the meaning.

"Rainbow Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.

"The beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm" A living child does not replace the child you lost. The happiness and joy you may feel in the presence of your living child, does not diminish the sorrow and longing for the child you've lost.

"Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.". OK, so I'm not sure about the color or energy part...but hope. I'm all about hope. Darkness still surrounds me at times. Sorrow still envelops, but now there's more hope, more love, more joy more...in a way...future.

Anyway, just thought I'd share. I thought the poem was beautiful.

A blessing and a curse.

2011-07-16T13:26:00.003-04:00

Being a mom whom has endured loss is as much of a blessing at times, as it is a horrible every day reminder of darkness. Obviously, the bleakness of loss is a no brainer. Loss sucks. Plain ad simple. When it happens, it leaves this gaping hole within your soul that you feel will forever be there, aching and searing with pain. And in a way it is. It's always there. The difference is that instead of searing constantly, times of reprieve come and then more come until you're left with a hole...still always a hole...but instead of only feeling the pain, the bleakness...you start to feel love again, laughter again. You start to see light and hope. You loath death, but hold onto hope for life. You see, I miss my daughters every day. There's not one day that passes that I don't think of them. Not one. And though I miss them and long for them to be here, with their brothers, I am (as much as I can be) OK that they're waiting for me in Heaven. Of course some days are easier than others, but for the most part, my heart doesn't sear. My belly doesn't ache. My heart just isn't whole and with that, I'm missing them.

But then a day like today comes. Where I hear of a friends sister who has just delivered a baby, silently. That hole, sears again. More so with anger than from loss. Of course my heart aches for another family's loss. I know their pain too well. I know the devastation, the want to tear out my failing belly. It's a horrid feeling. But more so, just angered. And I no longer know who to even be angry at. I'm just angry. It's senseless. It's undeserving. It's a random draw of the cards. It just happens. It's a fluke. But how can death be a fluke. When it devastates so many, how can it be a fluke? And why does it persist? I'll never have the answers to these questions, nor will my anger even help anyone. But still. I'm angry and my heart sears for families going through this pain.

So what about the blessing? The blessing is two fold for me. First, I get to honor my daughters everyday with my loss site and I get to keep their memory alive as I, hopefully, help others grieve in whatever way they need to grieve. But also, I get to be the person that can help in a situation where so many have no idea what to do, where to go. For some reason, my daughters were taken from me and I'd like to think that maybe, just maybe, their life had purpose. And maybe their purpose was to prepare me, devastate me, break me and mold me back into what I could then be used for. To help. To help those going through a devastating loss.

I was reminded of that today, as my pain and my anger returned for another woman who has held her baby for the last time. Who was kissed her head and touched her skin. Who has smelled her hair and held her hand. All for the last time. I ache for your loss. My heart sears for your own pain. My body trembles with anger that another woman has to endure this loss. You are supported. You are loved. And you are being prayed for. Fervently.

jeremiah 1:5

2011-07-15T22:51:00.004-04:00

I've been spending countless hours over the past few days going through all of my blog posts to copy and paste the ones about our losses, remembrances and healings from losing our daughters. It's been a daunting task and my eyes are going buggy...and I still have nearly a full year to go! Oye. But it's been cool. Cool and heart breaking. It's hard going back. Reading where I was while in the depths. But cool to read some of the posts again...or really, reading them for the first time. So many times, I would write something to get it out, but never go back to actually read it. So it's been, in a way, healing going back. Back in June of 2008, right after Asher was born, I wrote the below post. This is something I still struggle with, or at least think about often. So here I am, re-posting a blog. But it just really struck me tonight, and I felt the need to share.

jeremiah-15
25 June 2008

have you ever thought about the scripture in jeremiah that says "I knew you before I formed you in your mother's womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you as my spokesman to the world." God spoke those words to jeremiah, but do they reflect on all of us? did He really know all of us before we were born? does He really have plans for us all? if so, why does He take babies away before they're born. if He knows them, why create them in the womb only to take them away before they're born?

i know these are questions i'll never hear the answer to until i get to ask the Man Himself...i'm just curious. did he know Jorai? did he know Jayden and Charlie? did he have plans for them? steve likes to think that maybe He takes the babies that He wants to stay pure, untouched by this fallen world. that explanation makes me feel warm and fuzzy. to think that Jorai will never be tainted by this world...but then does that mean that He cares more for Jorai than He does for Asher? i know He doesn't...i'm just thinking out loud...why take one child after creating them perfectly, only to give another? is it just that Jorai and asher have different roles in His ultimate plan? do they simply have different marks to make on this world?

i can't wait to find out just what this scripture means...how did He know me? was i a spirit before He created me in my mother's womb? or did He just have the thought of me...what His plans are for me...

anyway, just wondering if you had any thoughts.

The undertaking

2011-07-10T13:10:00.002-04:00

I've been reading The Undertaking by Thomas Lynch. It's a collection of essays about Lynch's life as a funeral director in Milford Michigan. It's a bit hard to get through. He's a self proclaimed poet and is incredibly wordy and in my opinion, tries to fluff himself with larger than life words and descriptions...but if you can push through the fluff, the meat of what he's saying is beautiful.

I just finished reading his chapter on children's death and was struck by how he so correctly describes the devastation of loss when he himself has never personally been there. Here's an excerpt:

..."The fathers, used to protecting and paying, felt helpless. The mothers seemed to carry a pain in their innards that made them appear breakable. The overwhelming message on their faces was that nothing mattered anymore, nothing."

.... "When we bury the old, we bury the known past, the past we imagine sometimes better than what it was, but the past all the same, portion of which we inhabited. Memory is the overwhelming theme, the eventual comfort.

When we bury infants, we bury the future, unwieldy and unknown, full of promise and possibilities, outcomes punctuated by our rosy hopes. The grief has no borders, no limits, no know ends, and the little infant graves that edge the corners and fencerows of every cemetery are never quite big enough to contain that grief. Some sadnesses are permanent. Dead babies do not give us memories. They give us dreams."

Asher memories...

2011-07-10T09:49:00.003-04:00

Some of my favorite things that Asher says tight now:

"My baby brother likes me!".
"All myself Mama, All my self!". When he does something all by himself.
"YAY!!!" Clap, clap, clap!
"Mama! Owl says it's OK to wake up!". Proudly showing me his new wake up owl, glowing green.
"Fire fire" Fire fighter.
"Cuddle me Mama".
"Tickle me Mama. I like being tickled!".
"Lemnaid" Lemonade
"I no feel happy." "I feel happy now!"
"Bye, bye buddies.".
"up, up, up!" For anything high or going up in the air.
"potty out of my nemis?".... When ever we ask him to go potty, since he doesn't like to go BM on the potty, he just has to make sure is the other potty we're asking for...potty out of his penis.
Poxil (popsicle)
"mmmm! Me like that Mama. Me like it".
And lately when he wants me to sing to him, though he still loves his G. Popper song (Johnny popper (John Deere)) he's been wanting me to sing to him about "lemnaid". Too funny. So I have to come up with a song about how yummy it is and how to make it by plucking the lemons off the tree, adding sugar and water and stir, stir, stir...and oh how yummy it is and how it tickles my tongue.

My child cracks me up!

frozen in time

2011-07-09T23:20:00.002-04:00

Life as we know it, for Jorai and for Selah, has ended. There's this stillness to the air when we say their names. As if their existence is encased in a bubble. They will forever be here on earth, still. Their life stands still, as babies. All too small. Tiny fingers, tiny toes. Chests without rise and fall. Skin too delicate for the outside. Cold. Pictures hang to prove that they existed. That they were apart of our family. That their brothers have sisters...that they have brothers.

I've been thinking lately about how blessed we are. To have two amazing sons. To watch them grow and to feel their touch and smell their skin. To be able to teach them and learn from them. To watch them grow and to see them make a difference in this world.

I've been thinking about how wonderful it was to see Asher change from this helpless little baby to a strapping 3 year old who is already trying to make us laugh and is showing more and more personality every day. I've been thinking about what a joy it is to simply be around Greyson. How joyful he is. How laid back. How I feel him radiating love for me and Steve but mostly for his brother. Watching him light up in the presence of Asher is astounding. It's beautiful.

I am blessed. Though I also feel ripped off. Losing both Jorai and Selah brought us both Asher and Greyson. Without losing them, neither Asher or Greyson would be with us today. And I can't imagine my life without them. They make our family complete. In saying that, it's so hard to know that on this earth, I will never know my daughters. I will never see their personalities or hear their laughs or cries. Touch their skin or smell their hair.

It's such a hard realization to grasp. Knowing I had two children whom I never truly met. Knowing I have two children who though are waiting for us in Heaven, we'll never meet or laugh with or cry with until our days are through here on earth. Their pictures hang on our walls. The same pictures. Asher's and Greyson's change, as they change. Yet Jorai and Selah's will forever on earth, be the same.

Some days that gets to me. Some days I long once again to hold them. Just for a brief time. Just one more time. Kiss their skin. Feel it's softness. Smell their hair. Marvel at them. Just one more time.

Tonight as Asher was excitingly telling me all about seeing the digger and g. popper (tractor) at Riv and watching Greyson watch his older brother with such a sense of awe and wonder, I couldn't help but think of Jorai and of Selah. I couldn't help but think what they may be like. What their personalities would have been. What their laughter would sound like and if Selah would look at Jorai as Greyson does to Asher.

I'll never know. Not here on earth. And I'm OK with that. Our life, our losses, have brought Asher and Greyson into this world. God gave us our sons. For whatever reason, our daughters needed to leave and our sons were able to stay. And our sons are amazing and bring me a joy I will never be able to describe. But there will forever be a wonderment I feel for my daughters. A what if. And no matter how much my heart over flows with love for my sons, it will forever ache for my daughters.

baby ache

2011-07-09T10:42:00.002-04:00

Greyson is only 5 months and I already have baby ache. I've been pregnant or nursing for the past 4 1/2 straight years. My body needs a break and I now we're done. We have to be with our track record. I just can't go through another loss. I can't go through another pregnancy. But knowing all of this, makes watching Greyson grow up, so bittersweet.

Knowing I will never feel the rush of peeing on a silly stick and seeing 2 lines appear (well, probably not!). Knowing I will never feel another child growing within me. Knowing I'll never get to go through another birth, which in my opinion is the coolest thing ever. I'll never hold another one of my children in their infancy. I'll never be able to watch them grow as only a mother can. The smells, the bond that only a mother and infant have, the every thing. I'll never have that. I know I should let it go as I've been so blessed to have 2 living children when so many of my friends are struggling to conceive or continue to lose their children...but I just can't brush it off. The finality is truly bumming me out.

I look forward to Greyson getting bigger and being able to really play with Asher. Being able to see that and be apart of it, is so exciting. I see Asher's friends, who are brothers, playing together and it's so cool to watch. I see the neighbor brothers playing together and it just brings me such joy, knowing that Greyson and Asher will have that some day...but to be honest, as crazy as it sounds...I want another child.

It's not going to happen. We're done. Surgery is in the cards. No more kids. No more risks. No more still babies. None. It can't be. But even though I know all of this, the ache still pangs. There's still knocking at the door.

Once the boys are bigger, I keep thinking that fostering babies may be cool. But I don't know. I'm not sure I could do it. I'm not sure I could bond and then release them. And I'm not sure, after my losses, I could be O.K. giving them back if the situation wasn't the best for them. Oh boy, I don't know. I don't know where this post is going. I just needed a place to mentally vomit.

I want another baby...someday! Not now!!! I want to be pregnant and feel all the joy. I want to birth a daughter who is screaming. But I know all of this will never happen. Can never happen. I need to put it all to rest. I need to embrace that my childbearing days are over. Maybe I need to get my doula certification soon so I can at least be a part of other peoples pregnancies and deliveries!

Put it to rest Kim, put it to rest!

The hammer is down.

2011-07-04T11:16:00.002-04:00

Asher's new reality check. And ours too!

What milk is this?

2011-06-30T14:20:00.002-04:00

In an attempt not to waste any mama milk, I decided to fill Asher's nap bottle (yes, he still gets a bottle for nap and night...don't judge!) with some left over breast milk. I figured it hasn't been all that long since he nursed, and he nursed for so long that he probably wouldn't care. So I filled it and gave it to him and turned around to get Greyson...from in his room I hear a whine then a "Mama, wass this? Wass milk is this? Wass bottle? Me no like this bottle!" I tried to explain to him how special that milk was and how much he used to like that kind of milk. I told him it was nursing milk and so good for him. "No Mama, no like this bottle! Me like different bottle." Of course all said in his perfect little whine.

So, down the stairs I go, watch the precious milk cascade down the drain and watch the cow milk take it's place. boo. As soon as I gave the new bottle to Asher he exclaimed "I like this bottle Mama!" "Me like this milk!". boo boo! I was going to sneak it into his cereal this morning but decided to give it to him at his nap...maybe I should have poured it over his cereal. My son's growing up. And I know it's exciting, but it's also so sad!

life update

2011-06-28T15:18:00.003-04:00

I feel as if I'm in a whirlwind! What a difference life has been, going from 1 living child to two. Wowza! I'm exhausted. truly exhausted. Emotionally as well as physically, but I love nearly every moment! Yes, there are times I want to run screaming, but I love my boys. And what a joy it's been seeing the differences in them and watching the awestruck in Greyson's eyes every time he watches his big brother. It's so cool. I can already see the love between them. Asher still is completely in love with his little brother as well. I love seeing that.

Asher keeps talking about his baby sister. It's weird. I'm sure he's just confused as we talk to him about his older and younger sisters, but it's weird hearing him talk about his baby sister. Just hearing the word sister sends chills down my spine. He was so young when we lost Selah. Though he knew something happened, he never really got it. And though he sees pictures of his sisters and we celebrate their life, I know that his little 3 year old brain, can't comprehend the loss of his sisters. But still, when he asks about his baby sister, though I know he means his baby brother, it twinges a bit.

Asher is amazing. He's really testing his boundaries and can be a tough nugget to be around at times, he is so witty and hilarious, within minutes he's making me laugh. His speech and knowledge has sky rocketed in the past few months. The things he comes up with or knows the answer to, amazes me. And some of his statements crack me up every time he says them...

"I no no...I no no Mama." = I don't know.
"I no feel happy."
"I feel happy now!"
"fire fire" = fire fighter
"guys" = for any play person
"I like that show!"
"Me do it", "me on it"....
"Bad boy gun" = any gun
When ever we pass a J. Popper (tractor), any construction vehicle or a motorcycle Asher says "me on it?" "No Asher, those don't belong to us and they're for big big boys" "Papa's a big big boy. Papa on it.".
When ever I don't let him do something he says "Papa let me help."
"All myself Mama, all myself"
"Baby brother likes me."

Greyson...what a little gem. He's such a chill little guy. As long as he can sleep and eat, he's happy. He will sit and play on his own. He looks around and smiles at every thing and will let anyone hold him. His face lights up when he smiles and though I may wake in the morning completely sleep deprived, one smile from him, makes the world seem brighter. He couldn't be more opposite from Asher and so it's been cool seeing their differences...and it will be cool to see them grow up and change. As healthy as Asher was as an infant, Greyson has been different. He's already had 3 colds. The doctor thinks he may have a narrowing of his vocal cords...we're seeing a pulmonologist this Friday...and he has a Preauricular Ear Pit. We have an appointment for an ear, nose, throat doc to start a relationship with in-case anything happens with that. It's crazy to think back to Asher's health and compare it to Greyson who has 2 specialists at 4 months of age! But all in all...he's healthy and happy and really, a joy to be with.

Steve and I...we're well. Tired and stretched, but well. Our loss site is up and running and I've noticed some traffic on it. I need to fix a few things, add a few pages and 'pretty' it up a bit, but for the most part, I'm happy with it. It brings me joy to know that it's being used. I've even seen it mentioned on a babycenter post. So I know people are finding it which is cool! I'm still struggling with my losses. It's easier to live day to day without my girls, but at the same time, their absents is deafening and there's not one day that goes by without me thinking of them. It's hard. I can't imagine losing a child whom I actually got to spend time with. It has to be a devastation that aches all the more. For me, I ache to see my girls faces, hear their laughter and feel their warmth...while at the same time, I feel guilty for feeling that because if I hadn't have lost Jorai, I wouldn't have Asher. If I hadn't lost Selah, I wouldn't have had Greyson. It's such a catch 22. Whatever that means.

All in all, we're going swimmingly. We have two healthy and happy and boisterous boys. Steve and I are both healthy. We feel as if we're really reaching out and maybe making a difference in peoples lives through our loss site, which is what I've wanted ever since we lost Jorai. We are now in a life group which we love and have grown close with the other two couples. And yeah...all is good.

lil' boys

2011-06-14T22:06:00.005-04:00

Here's a comparison of my two boys. Both taken nearly at the same age, 3/4ish months in the same outfit. It's so crazy to see how different they look. And Asher was so much larger. The crazy thing is that he's actually nearly 4 weeks older than Greyson and he still looks bigger! It's so fun to watch them grow. I love it. Being a mom to them is worth all the loss and tears. What a joy they are in my life. What a complete joy.

birthday cake~ BEST chocolate cake recipe!

2011-06-12T09:47:00.004-04:00

I've come to the realization that I'm physically unable to make a 'pretty' cake or pie...and that's OK, because what they lack in beauty, they surpass in taste. I've had to embrace it! I have to admit, I'm a pretty good baker. I don't know how I became one. I probably got it from my mom because she rocks in the baking department, but she can make things look wonderful. I'm the kind of baker where you look at my creation and think "wow...this is going to suck!", but then you taste it and are pleasantly surprised. Case in point, Asher's birthday cake. I had such grand plans to make an awesome drum major hat cake, but it just didn't work out. It was cute and all, but in no way what I thought it would be. And though the cake was seriously the best cake I've ever made, it was incredibly hard to ice. Even when I put a crumb coat on it. I made some chocolate instrument molds that I used to cover up some mistakes, and those turned out super yummy too.

If you need a fairly easy chocolate cake recipe, look no further. This is by far the best chocolate cake I've ever had.

SERIOUSLY MOIST CHOCOLATE CAKE
Source: the vast world wide web

2 cups sugar
1 cup oil (I used olive oil)
2 eggs
1 cup milk
1 cup HOT coffee
2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cups cocoa powder
2 cups cake flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup sour cream
-----
1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
2. Grease and flour your cake pan(s) (2 round, or 1 sheet) (or line cupcake tins~I made both).
3. Add all dry ingredients (except sugar) to a bowl and whisk to combine.
4. In mixer, add sugar and oil and mix to combine.
5. Add eggs one at a time until incorporated.
6. Slowly add milk, coffee and vanilla extract.
7. Add dry ingredients in increments with mixer on low speed.
8. Add sour cream and stir to combine. (I used Greek yogurt)

***this batter is super thin. don't worry!!!***

9. Pour into cake pans and transfer to oven.
10. Bake for 40 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean.

I topped both the cake and cup-cakes with cream-cheese frosting, though the next time I may just use a fresh whipped cream. The cake is super rich and moist and really doesn't need a heavy frosting, though the cream cheese frosting was yum.

Happy birthday Jorai!

2011-06-03T15:13:00.003-04:00

Jorai would have been 4 years old today. I can't believe it's been four years since I met her and held her and told her how much I loved her. Four years ago my life changed forever in so many ways. I'll never be the same.

Each year, we celebrate her brief life on the anniversary of her birth. Yet birth to me has always meant life and she never had one outside of me. I still try to wrap my mind around all of it but come up with nothing. How do you celebrate a birthday for someone who never lived on earth? But how can you not as well? How could I ignore my daughters life? It's such a dichotomy.

So, today my sweet baby girl would have been four. I miss her like mad. I wish I could see her face, her eyes, her smile. I wish I could hear her laugh, her little voice. I wish I could feel her skin, her embrace. I wish, I wish...

Happy birthday sweet baby girl. I miss you, we miss you. I love you, we love you. Wish you were here my love. We'll celebrate your life with cupcakes and candles. Sending big, big hugs up to heaven for you.

Letter to my son

2011-04-08T16:25:00.002-04:00

My dear, sweet boy,

You are such a joy in my life. You test me every single day...but you are a joy. You bring so much laughter to my heart and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You are so young, yet I see the love you have for your Mama, Papa and brother already. You are a comedian and musician and I just want you to know how much I love you and admire your light. You are going to grow into an amazing boy and then young man and then man. And it will be an honor to watch you grow and learn and love.

You are obsessed with marching bands. Every day, all day, you march around with a stick pretending you're the drum major or play your 'horn' or drum as you walk around the house. You raise your legs into a high kick march and shout as the MSU band does on game day. You ask to watch the MSU band march into the stadium on youtube, day after day after day. And you sing the fight-song all day long. You also sing it if we pass a football stadium. It's pretty funny.

You don't understand personal space and I find it endearing and annoying at the same time. You want to love on people and hug them and lean against them at all times. Your friends don't understand, and I know you feel bad when they push you away. You aggressively love on me, Papa and Greyson to the point of hurting us, but in your mind, you're just showing us how much you love us. You have recently started to give "big hugs" which is an Asher style bear hug. Your strength is pretty crazy!! But I still can't get enough of them...even though they hurt a bit!

You love your little brother. You truly love him. And it melts my heart. Though you think he's indestructible and it scares me, your love for him is undeniable. You love to hold him and cuddle with him. You cry if he can't share your story/song time before bed. You want to be the one to wake him and carry him to the car. You're an amazing big brother Asher. It will be an honor to watch you teach, love, protect and defend your little brother in the future. You guys are going to be quite a pair.

Greyson loves you so. He watches you whenever you're around. Once he notices you, no one else matters and he just smiles his big toothless grin and watches you. It's so fun to watch, my child. I can tell that he already looks up to you.

You are polite and sassy in the same sentence. You're sensitive and brutish at the same time. You're 100% boy with no qualms about dressing up with the girls. In fact your favorite accessory at your friends houses are princess high heeled shoes! You're smart and silly and a ham. And well, I just love you to pieces. I just wanted you to know that. You are a challenge and a joy to raise and I love every single ounce of you. You're a blessing. Truly a blessing.

love you Mama.

bling

2011-04-07T15:44:00.004-04:00

I've wanted a new necklace for a while now and with the arrival of Greyson and Mother's day coming up, I think I need to make my request to the hubs. The problem is that I can't make up my mind! Wanna help a girl out? Which do you think it cooler?

this one...
or this one...Oh, and I want this too!

update

2011-03-25T22:46:00.002-04:00

It's been awhile since I last posted, so I thought I needed to at least let people know I'm OK.

Greyson's arrival into our family has been a huge change to our lives. A wonderfully beautiful change, but one that's been exhausting! I keep wanting to load pictures or post Greyson's birth story. But It's not going to happen tonight or any night soon probably.

Greyson's a gem. He's so fun. He beautiful and every time I look at him, I think of Jorai which has been wonderful. His eyes are her eyes. Of course I only see her when his eyes are closed, but it's amazing. He's a super chill baby. He eats and sleeps and still, that's it. He's only awake for usually around 15-30 minutes at a time. In his wakeful periods, he just smiles and coo's away. It's a joy watching him. Now...between the hours of 6pm-10pm all he wants to do is nurse. Well, suck really. Which can be painful. We're working on finding other ways to calm him which will be wonderful, but for now, I sit a ton and nurse. But I have to admit, I still love nursing. I love his smiles and warmth and just every thing. He's wonderfully amazing.

Asher...wow. Asher is really starting to crack me up. He's talking a ton so his personality is shining through more. Yesterday when I went up to get him from his nap he said '3 nem-em-nems'. We give him M&M's for potty rewards so I asked 'M&M's? Why do you get 3 M&M's?' He quickly replied 'HUG!' and wrapped his arms around my neck saying again 'Big hug!'. Too funny. He now is trying to get M&M's for hugs. Silly boy! Today as we were outside talking to neighbors, Asher walked into the garage, grabbed the recycle bin and walked it down to the curb. The kid is seriously cracking me up.

He's amazing with Greyson. A bit like a bull in a candy shop, but all in all he's such a little helper and lover it's wonderful. He even wants to share his special Mama alone time before nap with Greyson. The other day he cried because Greyson was sleeping and he wanted to share story time with him. He's an amazing big brother and it's been such a joy watching him love on Greyson.

Steve and I are exhausted. Mentally and physically. It's been taxing. We barely talk, to tell you the truth. By the time both children are asleep, we just sit there, exhausted, enjoying the silence. It's sad! But I also know that it's only for a short time. I know we'll start finding our way in our new life. Greyson will start sleeping longer stints and there will come a day where he'll be on a schedule and possibly even start taking a bottle. Oh, what a wonderful day that will be! And maybe, some day soon, I'll actually be able to clean the house! Sorry to all of you who have come through our doors in the past few weeks! Wowza!!

So that's our life update. The kids are absolutely amazing and the adults are exhausted but blissfully happy.

Toddler advice

2011-03-11T13:12:00.002-05:00

I think we've arrived at the very terrible two's. Or maybe it's an attention thing since Greyson has joined our family...I don't know. I just know that we have an extremely loving, brilliant, funny, amazing, beautiful and very much loved little boy, who seems to turn into a monster quite often, on our hands.

So here's Asher's problem. He's not listening. Not at all. he won't answer us or do as we say unless we end our question with, 'Please answer us or you'll go into time out.', 'Come here now, or you'll go into your room.', 'clean up your toys or you'll lose your guitar for the rest of the day.', 'You have two choices, either go to the potty or sit in time-out'...over and over and over again. All day long. It's a constant battle a constant fight.

I friend told me once to pick my battles and let them be few. And I'm trying to hold fast to that, but at the same time, I feel we're in a phase of constant teaching and if I let him make a mess and walk away from it, not only do I trip and get angry, but then the next day he does the same thing. Or if I let him talk snarkey to me, or not answer me...It always ends up biting me in the butt the next day.

Steve and I are sitting down this weekend to finally discuss our 'house rules' so that we can write them down and place them on the door so all four of us know the rules...well obviously Greyson won't know them...but at least he'll be able to grow up knowing them! And then we're going to make consequences for the actions...time-out, quiet time in room, loss of privileges/toys, and/or early bed time.

Here's my (and Steve's too) problem...for the most part, I think we handle discipling well. But there are time where we don't. For example, today for lunch, Asher kept trying to get out of his seat because he didn't want to eat what I had given him. Steve, after a long morning and then constantly trying to get through to Asher to sit down to eat, blew up when Asher stood up and accidentally knocked his pasta all over the floor. Now yes, he made a mess and it was frustrating, but Steve yelled at him for an accident, which made Asher feel bad. Then as I was trying to get Asher ready for nap, we went in to the bathroom to go potty, which he went pee, but we're still having poo issues and though I know he had to go, he wouldn't sit on the potty to try. I was talking to him and asking him to tell me why it was so scary for him to go potty and he wouldn't answer me. I was not raising my voice or badgering him, I just wanted to know why he didn't want to try. But, he would just look at me and dance or try to walk away. I was getting angry because I just wanted an answer from him and he wouldn't talk to me. So I told him to sit in the corner for timeout for not answering my questions. When I shut the door, he started banging on and kicking the door. This has been an issue the past few days that I never had lost my cool on...but I had, had it with his behavior when he didn't get his way. So, I quickly opened the door and I unfortunately slammed the doorknob into his forehead. It was a shining motherly moment.

So now, I'm sitting here feeling bad. Rather horrible. In the past hour Asher got yelled at for an accident, though it stemmed from not listening and following directions, and got a doorknob slammed into his head for throwing a temper tantrum, though it stemmed from not answering questions. And now he's in bed. Sleeping. Probably having nightmares about his crappy parents and how scary they can be. This truly makes me feel horrible.

But what do you do? How do you calm down and diffuse the situation? Do you walk away and let them realize that they control you? That they can choose to do what they want and listen when they want? How do you react all day, every day in love and never let the anger and frustration bubble over. I know I need to be hard some times and soft others but how do you choose and how do you handle your own frustration? I know kids who have been disciplined too hard and I know kids who have never been disciplined or spoken to in a authoritative manner and you can tell they're a handful. You can tell that they run the house.

I want my boys to be brought up in the most loving household. I don't want them to fear me. I don't want them to think that all I do is yell or discipline, but I also want them to grown up knowing that this world doesn't revolve around them. I want them to know respect and show respect. I want them to be thoughtful, caring, helpful children who listen and follow the 'rules'. But how do I get there and I guess, how much can I expect out of a nearly three year old?

Am I expecting too much out of my toddler? Maybe he doesn't understand fully yet. Maybe I'm asking him question he can't find answers to and I'm getting angry at him for something he can't control. I know he can pick up his toys and finish his meal when asked, but maybe I'm expecting all too much out of a three year old. I don't know. Can three year olds understand that they need to look where they're walking so they don't stomp of their baby brother's head? Or are boys just clueless at this age? How many times do I have to tell Asher not to squeeze Greyson's face with all of his strength, or show him how much it hurts when I do it to him? Will he ever remember not to do it? Is he doing it to get attention? How do I stop it?

I watch Super Nanny some days and think, 'Man, how did that kid end up to be such a punk?'...but then I think, 'wow...that could be us in a few years.'. I mean, I hope not...but if I ignore some of Asher's behaviors, if I can't correct him now...he could be one of those kids on the show. And for the most part, Asher is a great kid! It's just his listening skills and following directions stink some times!

Sorry for going on and on and on...Here are my questions...

Am I expecting too much from him?
How do you discipline your children? and I'm not looking for corporal punishments here. I'm not against spanking, but it doesn't work for Asher and I already have a hard time controlling my own temper sometimes and I'd never want to hit my child out of my own frustration and with my own aggression.
What do you discipline for and what do you let slide?
How do you stay consistent?
For those of you with children who 'passionately love' on their younger siblings, how do you get through their thick skulls that although you appreciate how much they love their brother/sister, that they have to be gentle?

Again, sorry for the wordiness of this post. This is my verbal vomit so to speak, after a rough morning. Thanks in advance for your comments!

motherhood reality check

2011-02-26T14:44:00.003-05:00

Let me preface. I love my life. I love my boys. I feel super blessed and I wouldn't change a bit of my little slice of world...minus the loss of my girls.

...but...

Wow. What a reality check life has been the past few weeks. Asher is doing awesome with Greyson. There's very little jealousy and the little that there is, is actually directed towards Steve. Which is surprising to me. And Greyson, is a dream child. He has some fussy periods and lately has been gassy, so at times can be really fussy...but for the most part, he's super easy. And he usually only wakes up once, maybe twice a night.

But there are things that are stressing me. Things that I'm blowing up about. Little things. I feel stretched. I feel needed...all. the. time. I feel like I have NO time to myself. Which in saying that I feel incredibly selfish. But that's how I feel so I'm embracing it. I feel as if someone's always touching me or sucking from me, rubbing their snot on me, hitting me, scratching me...I feel like if I'm not holding or reading to or washing or rocking or comforting a wee boy, I'm cleaning the house or folding laundry or washing laundry or making dinner or cleaning up dinner or breakfast or lunch...My day so far was waking with a 3 week old fussing, so I nursed him, then changed him. I undressed and dressed him and then Asher came running up to 'help' and I had to watch him as well and scold him for not listening to my continued attempts to ask him to stop twirling in the curtains, and then I got about 1 minute when Asher ran downstairs to take Greyson into the bathroom so I could go...then it was back into Asher's room, with baby, to get clothes out for Asher. Then downstairs to nurse baby again and then snuggle with Asher and take him to the potty and then dress Asher and quick log onto Facebook to check on a friend who had surgery last night. Then I nursed Greyson again, put drops in his eyes and nursed him again, during that time Asher and Steve left to go sledding. Once Greyson fell asleep, I was able to quick eat breakfast myself and then I started to pick up the living room which has been destroyed for the past week. That lasted about 30 minutes when Greyson woke and I nursed him again. I then continued cleaning and then made lunch for Asher. Asher got home, I took him to the potty, gave him lunch and then took him upstairs to put him down for his nap. In which he decided to 'snuggle with Mama's big squishy belly' by pushing into me as hard as he could. Though I tried to tell him to stop, he chose differently and I blew. Why? Because I feel as if I'm going crazy. I put him to bed, which he chose not to be in, and then I went downstairs to nurse Greyson. When I was done with that I went back upstairs to put Asher back down when he decided to yell, scream and bang the walls at me. I blew, slammed the door and took a shower. Unfortunately the shower couldn't even relax me because my bathroom shares a wall with Asher's room so I heard him screaming and pounding the walls the entire time. When I got out of the shower, I went back in to his room, took him to the potty and somehow managed to get him back into bed with little fighting. Now I'm back downstairs in semi-quiet as Steve rocks Greyson giving me a little piece of time. So for 6 straight hours so far today, I have been going non-stop. From household duties to caring for a newborn and nurturing and disciplining a toddler.

And the hardest part? The same time that I feel exhausted and overwhelmed and stressed, I feel guilty. Guilty that I have two beautiful and healthy living children while friends of mine have nothing but ashes and graves. Guilt that I wished and dreamed for my children and now these thoughts and feelings make me feel ungrateful.

I know it has a lot to do with emotions and life changes and hormonal changes...but it's so hard. Hard to find the strength to deal with an, at times, unruly toddler. Hard to find the few brief moments of the day to enjoy silence and no one touching me...needing me. Hard to not get angry with a little boy who's testing me at every turn. Hard to enjoy each moment when all I want is 10 minutes to myself...again, a pang of guilt.

Wow. Motherhood is hard. I know this is the hard part. The needy part. I also know that soon, I will be missing these moments. I'll miss how much my boys need me. How much they come to me and want me to be close. Some days it's just so hard. I hate not enjoying every moment with my children. It makes me feel like a failure or ungrateful. As if I was given these two amazing blessings and I'm not embracing this gift with every ounce that I have.
I know with every thing I have that this is all a lie. I know that my children mean every thing to me. And I also know that it's hard and there will always be times where I feel like a failure, but man is it hard. It's hard feeling like a failure or that you're ungrateful.

Motherhood has been the most fulfilling wonderful journey I've ever known. But with it, it's also been the most guilt ridden. I think I need to find a balance. A balance between giving my children every thing I have, while at the same time, remembering that I need quiet, alone time as well. Which is hard when you demand nurse, but in a few months, when things taper off...things will normalize a little bit more. I just have to remember that quote I hate so much... 'this too shall pass'...

My dear boys, I love you so much. You are my world. I love snuggling and playing with you. I love both teaching you and learning from you. You both are wonderful and bring me so much joy and happiness. Please remember this when I blow up over little things. I'm sorry I yell some times. Never doubt my love for you.

your Mama.

And one more makes a family of 6.

2011-02-11T14:26:00.003-05:00

On February 2, 2011...Groundhogs Day...and during the 2011 'blizzard', our son was born into the world screaming! And what a sound it was. As I looked up at Steve, I saw his tears streaming down. And what a sight that was! Tears of joy, instead of tears of pain.

It was a long, cytotec and pitocin laden labor and from 4m - 11:30am I had hard contractions lasting 40-60 seconds coming every minute 1/2 - two minutes...but I can't complain. I had breaks and those nearly 2 minutes of quiet were bliss...but after 7 1/2 hours of hard contractions, I was exhausted and when it came time to push, I had a hard time finding the energy. But I found it...somewhere. And after 20 minutes of pushing, Greyson Levi was born. All 9 pounds, 22 inches of him.

He's perfect. Beautiful and strong. It's crazy really. After four short hours of easy peasy labor, Asher was born a spitfire. From the get go, he was a spitfire. He was a wonderful baby. An easy baby. But he was a spitfire. After eighteen hours of hard labor with Greyson, he was born this little peaceful, quiet, sleepy baby. He has wakeful times, but on most days, he'll only be awake for an hour...if we're lucky, maybe two...every day. He sleeps and eats and sleeps and poops and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps.

Greyson has a strong look. He looks dignified. He's perfect. Steve and I kept wondering who he looks like. He of course looks like his big brother in parts, but there's something about him that we couldn't pinpoint. His nose, his lips, his cheeks and the long wrinkle below his eyes and above his cheeks. Who's are those? Where did they come from? And then a friend of mine commented on my facebook page on how much he looks like Jorai. WOW! How right she was! He's a spitting image of his big sister. How cool is that?!?! I love it!

Asher has been wonderful. Seriously wonderful. There's been no jealousy issues. I thought we'd have major issues with breastfeeding but the first time I sat down to nurse Greyson, Asher looked at me, looked down at Greyson and said 'Mama! Baby Greyson nursing!'. Every time the baby cries Asher says 'Mama, nurse Greyson'. Asher's super protective of his little brother. I love it. He loves to 'help' me change Greyson, dress and wash him. He loves to 'snuggle baby' and kiss him and he lays belly down and places his head upon Greyson's belly. It's so cute. I love it. In fact yesterday as Asher was 'snuggling with Mama's BIG smooshy belly'...yeah that felt good...he said 'Baby Greyson downstairs, Mama stomach empty...Another baby...Baby Judah!'. So yeah, Asher loves his baby brother so much, after only a week, he wants another...too bad it's NOT going to happen! HA!

So anyway, I'm please to welcome our new son Greyson Levi. And so happy to say that every thing is going surprisingly well! Asher is the doting big brother and I'm so proud of him, And Greyson is wonderful. I'm in love with my family. And blissfully joyful.

decisions, decisions...

2011-01-30T13:14:00.003-05:00

Two Fridays ago, when I originally had the induction talk with my doc, who was the one originally pushing for it, I was really apprehensive. I was stuck between two scares. One, that my child will flip back into breech position in the week + that I would wait to go into natural labor...and two, having a medicated, rushed labor that was never in 'my plans'. But after a ton of thought and a full week of major apprehension and worry that the baby would flip back into the breech position, I knew that being induced on Friday/Saturday was the best decision for us.

Now that my induction isn't even scheduled until Tuesday @ 4pm, I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it. Tuesday @ 4pm is only three days until my due date. So is it even worth it? 3 days? I mean, it would be horrible if the babe flipped within those three days, but what's the possibility of that? I'm assuming the baby is super engaged by this point, so would he flip?

Having an non-medicated, non-induced delivery was my plan all along. I would prefer it, both for me and the baby. But then I think...what if. What if the baby flips...what if the cord gets too tight and what if...I'm not going there... So I just don't know. Should I go through with the induction? Or should I cancel it and let this child come in his time? It's such a hard decision. And I know in the big scheme of things, this shouldn't be so hard. It shouldn't make me so apprehensive...but it does. Oye!

Hopefully this babe will just come before Tuesday so I don't have to make this decision!

November 2010 Photos

2011-01-12T22:58:00.001-05:00

October 2010 Photo's

2011-01-12T20:39:00.001-05:00

September 2010 Photos

2011-01-12T19:44:00.001-05:00

August 2010 Photos

2011-01-12T17:41:00.001-05:00

July 2010 Photos

2011-01-12T16:50:00.001-05:00

June 2010 photos

2011-01-12T16:20:00.001-05:00

Warning...

2011-01-12T16:17:00.002-05:00

Cuteness will follow this post. I've just realized that I haven't updated my Picasa photo page since May...so I'm going to try to get updated tonight. Here we go....

update

2011-01-12T14:34:00.002-05:00

Wow. I just realized how long it's been since I've updated my blog. Wowza!

So let's see...Asher is amazing. He is growing so fast and talking a ton and making us laugh every day. He has successfully potty trained himself, with our help of course, and we're oh, so proud. He still wears a diaper for naps and night, but many times he wakes dry. He hasn't poo'd on the potty yet, but I'm just so proud that he's in big boy undies all day that I really don't care.

He's huge. He's a whopping 43 pounds and yet I can feel and see his spine and 6-pack! His waist is really looking thin, yet he has to wear all 4t clothes at 2 1/2! I was able to keep him in 3t pants up until a few weeks ago but now, I've had to pack them all away. He's growing through clothes so fast it's ridiculous!

He loves to help me cook and help Steve wash the dishes. He also likes to 'help' with any home improvement or fix-it project. It's so much fun watching him grown and learn and copy our actions...a bit scary too...but cool.

New baby...still nameless. We still like Judah and Grayson and just yesterday threw in Nicolai. Naming a boy is so hard! He's a big boy, go figure! Well, at least that's what the ultrasound says. A week ago, he was measuring in at 7 1/2 pounds already. Asher was born at 7'11''. His head and limbs were measuring a little over a week ahead. His belly? His belly measured 39 weeks 4 days! I was around 36 at the time! Scary!

I'm super uncomfortable. More so than with any other child. It's hard to sit, stand, lay, walk, play with Asher...you name it. I've been seeing my chiropractor and got a massage, but it's still there. Plus the babe is pushing out a ton, to the point where it's painful. I'm trying not to complain, because I feel so blessed to be pregnant and I want to enjoy each and every moment, but I'm ready. Really ready.

Tomorrow I'll be 37 weeks. 3 more weeks left, if I go on time. I can't believe I've made it this far. I can't believe I still feel movement and that I may actually leave the hospital one last time with a living child in my arms. It all feels so alien to me. I mean, I've done it before, but it's not the norm for me. I still freak out. I freaked out last night and almost made a mad dash to the ER, but after using my trusty doppler and monitoring the heartbeat for a bit, I knew things were OK and I let go of the anxiety.

Steve and I are doing well, but tired. Real tired. Trying to get ready for the new baby while at the same time taking care of a toddler has been hard. And with my pregnancy, I'm just really tired! I know we need to get out and enjoy each other, but to tell you the truth, I'd rather sleep! How sad.

So wow...that's an update in a nutshell. I'll try to update more later.

Sweet Asher memory

2010-12-09T15:58:00.002-05:00

Sweet baby boy, your expression today as you sat pounding the drums while the girls ran upstairs to get away from the noise, was excruciatingly beautiful. As you sat there with a huge pout on your face, sad-sad puppy dog eyes and your hands pressed against each side of your bowed head, I realized just how much you love your music and want to share it with everyone.

You were so devastated that you couldn't even bring yourself to walk back upstairs, you wanted me to hug you and carry you up the stairs. You kept asking why your friends left and wanted them to come back down to play drums. You just couldn't understand how drums could ever be too loud.

Oh sweet boy of mine, I love you so! Please never lose your love of music and the need to share it with everyone!

potty boy

2010-12-09T15:11:00.002-05:00

Asher, I just wanted to post about how proud I am of you! We've been experimenting with the potty now for a few months. You like to climb on and 'toot' and then clap your hands, but it wasn't until last few weeks where you really started going.

At first, it was hit or miss. We weren't really trying full time, but occasionally we would put you on the potty, pour warm water on your dangly bits, per your request, and you'd go. Some times you would just sit there and push as hard as you could getting redder and redder n the face! That was funny. I always had to look down so you wouldn't see me laugh! But then Saturday hit and you went all by yourself...and then Sunday, all day you went with only 1 accident, which you felt the wet and then held it until the potty...since then, you've been dry! Both yesterday and today you even called out to me from a different room 'POTTY MAMA!!!!' and ran to the potty, pulled your pants down and went!

I know this is probably silly to post and in time you'll be embarrassed that I've placed it up here on the W.W.W., but for me, this is exciting. I think mainly, because you did this on your own. I wasn't hounding you or forcing you. It hasn't been a struggle or frustrating. And really, I'm just super proud of you. You're becoming such a big boy! You're so loving and nurturing...a little wild, extreme and rough, but your heart...it's solid gold my son. You ooze love and laughter and fun. And I'm just so proud of you. Way to go buster brown.

I love you, Mama.

sweet baby cookin' boy

2010-12-06T15:18:00.002-05:00

I've secretly, or maybe not so secretly, been putting you in the corner. I've tried not getting attached to the thought of you. I've tried to love you at a distance, as well as I can, since you're inside of me. I feel you move and hiccup, I see you wiggle and squint during ultrasounds, and I should be jumping up and down with excitement, but there's a part of me that pushes that feeling away.

But I want you to know. I love you. More than I want to admit. More than I want to let on. I'm scared. I'm petrified. Every. Single. Moment. I want you here. I want you in my arms, but I'm so afraid of how you'll come...how you'll be in my arms. Will you be a wiggly, warm, screaming little boy? Or will you be cold? Still? Pale? Blue?

Sweet baby boy, I've realized that I only have to wait 8 more weeks...give or take a day or two. 8 more weeks. You're nearly 32 weeks old...gestationally. You're low, really low. In my hips low...not engaged, but nearly there, kicking my bladder, rubbing my organs. You're pushing out with all your might and starting to get fed up with the outside pushes your big brother likes to share with you. And I just want you to know that I'm starting to let my fear fall away a tad. I'm starting to have hope. I'm starting to think, even though I know there's no 'safe week' or day for you, that maybe these next few weeks will be OK. Though my mind knows the 32 week mark is another high stilbirth week, I'm allowing myself to be hopeful.

I started cleaning out your room this weekend. I've moved in your dresser and Grandma and Grandpa brought your new bookshelf home. Asher even helped me fill it up with books and toys for you this morning. Before his nap, he brought up a box of books especially for you. He's so excited to meet you. Every day he tells me that he wants to play toys with you, read you stories and hold you. As soon as he sees my belly, he bends down to kiss you, he says 'baby!' in a typical grandma 'baby' voice. He rubs my belly and talks to you.

I just want you to know, I'm scared and worried and at times I try to not feel the love I have for you, but there's no denying it babe. I love you. With all I have. Your Papa loves you and your big brother loves you. We can't wait to see you and meet you and kiss you and get to know every inch and aspect of you. We're getting ready for you, my sweet little bean. We're so excited to meet you. Nobody puts baby in the corner.

Asher update

2010-12-01T22:05:00.001-05:00

I feel as if I've slacked in the Asher update department so here's another installment.

You seem to get crazier and crazier every day! You crack me up and scare the daylights out of me each moment!!
You are still rocking the drum but have also fallen in love with the guitar. You're a natural and the moment you picked it up you knew how to hold it and strum and even rock star it out!
You also love to play the recorder which you call your 'horn' and march around the house with your big green foam MSU finger. You'll also just hold onto the recorder so you can 'sing' the MSU fight song. You go around and around and around the living room wall, marching like the marching band. You often ask Mama or Papa to accompany you. Sometimes you kick your legs up high like the drum major does. It's great to watch!
You're talking ton, so I won't list your words, but I do have some great Asher translations that I can never forget about...seat=dick. yup. Can't figure that one out. drum=um, guitar=car, drum sticks=d-ticks, Kara=caca, Bryan=Monee, Henry=Onee, wiggles=booty (I think because I say shake your booty or wiggle your booty), whenever you see a bee, you say 'bee-ow' (because you have to point to your finger and show that a bee will sting and it hurts, hot chocolate=hot doklet, flamingo=ingo, wwwwhhhhhhyyyyyy?, and last but not least, when you think something is yours you say 'my coco'. I have no idea where you got that one and can only assume you mean that it's 'your thing.'.
You answer most questions with nyes (yes), NO, Bo, apple or apple juice. When I squeeze your cute bum and ask 'who's bum is this?', you proudly answer 'BO's!'
You love to watch the Wiggles and Pooh. No longer do you want to watch your beloved PBS shows...now it's always 'Booty!' or 'Pooh!' You also like to watch 'bus' which is The Polar Express, 'no-man' (frosty the snowman) and Ho Ho Ho (Santa Clause is coming to town).
You love to say 'Come on!', or 'Do This!!!' before leaving the house. You're Papa taught you to say Let's Do This...Mama's not too excited about that one! You also tell us to 'come on!' when you want us to go somewhere and 'comin'!' when we're waiting for you somewhere.
You have to 'Do that too!' with every thing that gets done around the house. You're telling me that you want to do it and you push me away. 'No! I do it!'.
You have a robe that you cherish. Every night after your bath, you put it on, wrap it around your belly and strut to your room where you dance in front of your mirror. The whole time checking yourself out and smiling.
You're obsessed with your boo-boo's and Mama has to smother boo-boo butter over them.
You love to spray people with the hose. You even sprayed the neighbor with her own hose this summer!
You are starting to recite books and songs when Mama reads/sings them.
You go through phases with your songs...This summer Mama had to sing is the Bo song for every nap and bed time. Bo is a 'friend' of yours but you rarely hang out together and when you do, you fight, so we can't figure out the obsession...but there definitely is one. The Bo song is to the tune of I met a bear but goes 'I have a friend, his name is Bo. He is the coolest boy I know' 'We like to play at the park. We swing and run, and splash and climb'...sometimes we add that he has a sister and he's so nice and how you search for frogs and turtles... That song turned into a song about Johnny Poppers (just some crazy song Mama made up) and then Pooh Bear and Henry and Brian (Papa sings it to Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer) and now it's the Little Drummer Boy. But every nap...every night, we have to sing a particular song. If Mama doesn't listen to your pleading, you press your face against hers, so your lips, gums and teeth are pressing into hers and continue to ask for your song. It's so gross, but it cracks me up every single time.
You started sleeping in your big boy crib (crib with the front taken off and a small bumper to stop you from falling out) on 21 August 2010. That first nap was a little difficult, but ever since then you've been a champ. You stay in your crib for naps, never leaving the bed and at night, sometimes you'll climb out to get a book or toy, but then crawl right back into bed to play with it. It's been a super easy transition. In late October you got your big boy bed and you love it. Whenever Mama tries to climb in you complain and ask her to get off.
You're obsessed with Johnny Poppers, which for you is any tractor or riding lawn mower. Any time you see one, you scream 'Mama!!! Papa!!! J-Popper!!' We have purchased a few tractors for you and they're your prized possessions.
You love to read. Which is surprising since you are so active, but you'll sit for a long time if someone is reading you 'stories.'. You love Richard Scarey, Max Lucado and Nancy Tillman books. For as much of a wild man you are, you really surprise me every day with the amount of story telling you want. I love it!
You are a huge lover, but you don't know your own strength. At times you remind me of Hugo the Abominable Snowman. You can love something a little too rough. You like to give hugs by tackle. You like to give kisses by face smashing and you like to say hello by a swift smack on the buns or back. But you mean all the love you have when you do it...it's just a bit rough!
You LOVE your little brother and every time you see Mama's belly you exclaim, 'Baby!' and then press your lips against her belly, smooshing it in tight. You tell people that Mama has a baby in her 'tomach'. And you just can't give her tummy enough hugs and kisses, though we wonder what your reaction will be when your little brother actually comes into this world.
We think that you're starting to understand that you can't nurse anymore but the baby will. When Mama asks you what the baby will eat, you proudly exclaim 'baby nurse!'. When she then asks you if you'll nurse, you say 'No, suckers and apple juice!'. Now what we don't know is if you'll asks for suckers and apple juice every time the baby nurses!
You have just started to pout and you have the best grumpy face ever.
You're a bit dramatic son. You really are. If your shoe comes undone, you cry out and fall to the floor as if the world was ending. It's hard to keep a straight face.

You are 1o days from turning 2 1/2. I can't believe it. You bring me joy each and every day. We love you so much and can't wait to see what tomorrow will bring. You are going to be an amazing big brother. I love you baby boy.

Why, why, why?

2010-11-23T14:53:00.002-05:00

I really, truly try my hardest not to get pissed off at God, but it's just so damn hard sometimes. I need someone to blame. I need someone to scream at and hit and be mad at. And I don't know who else to take this up with. I know He gives and I know He takes away and we're suppose to be OK with that, but some times I'm not. Whatever that makes me, I'm OK with...because I don't think being OK with babies dying is OK. The whole process of it. The baby's death, the family's anguish, the fear, the darkness and guilt that comes next...I just don't get it.

My friend found out today that her baby had passed. She was in her second trimester, not that is really matters. Not an early loss...not a late loss...but a loss. A devastating loss. After a previous loss.

My heart aches for her and this journey that she's about to embark on. Walking through the darkness, trying to find the light and yet even when you find it, you push it away because it pisses you off so much. An ache that's indescribable. An emptiness that feels as if you've literally been eviscerated. A hunger for warmth and love and joy that seems so far from your reach that life can at times feel pointless.

And I ache. I ache because as she was finding out this horrible news, I was having a brilliant morning with my son. The first in a few days that had zero yelling or tantrums...only joy and laughter. And then as I thought that I hadn't felt the baby move in a while, I went upstairs to listen to my baby's heart. A sound that she would have killed for, I'm sure. A sound that I heard as she only heard the dreaded words...'this is the heart, and I'm sorry but it's not beating'. My day was wonderful. Filled with joy and laughter and love. Her's was a nightmare.

I remember when we came home from the hospital after losing Jorai, how surreal life felt. How nothing felt right. It all felt so damn fake and I couldn't figure out how people could be functioning as my life stood still. Nothing mattered. I felt nothing. I was numb and gutted and lifeless. Yet all those around me were happy and living and moving on.

Now, another friend has to feel this pain. And it kills me. I now know why people who have lost loved ones to cancer and other diseases, fight so hard for legislation and research so that they can find cures. I wish I could do something. I wish there was a way to monitor babies and stop neonatal death. It's so devastating. And it just doesn't need to happen. It pisses me off.

I think one of the hardest things actually happens months-years down the road, when people start to think you should be over your child's death...I mean you never really got to be with them...you never really got to know them or spend time with them...They just don't understand that a child is a child and it doesn't matter when you lose them. They were your child and now they're gone and it sucks. I wish people would understand that. I wish every one would remember our babies as we do...though I understand it's hard and I'm understanding because of that...but in my perfect little world, I wish everyone would remember the child that once was.

I don't know. I'm hurt and gutted for my friend. This is my fear. This is why I run up to check for a heartbeat every day...multiple times a day. The fear that it will happen again. It happens. Every day. To people we know. People we don't. It happens.

I am so sorry my dear friend. I love you and I'm praying for you and thinking of you and I just want you to know that I'm here. I know your pain. I know your fear. I know your emptiness. I know the cold, dark place your in. And I'm sorry you're there. I wish I could pull you out and give you back your joy. I wish. I'm sorry. I'm here.

'Final' resting place

2010-11-22T15:48:00.002-05:00

I've always hated those words. Final? Really? I don't know...and I've always hated urn's. The ones a normal person can afford look like tombs and the kid ones are usually boxes with angels or fairies or butterflies or worse, teddy bears on them. I just don't get it. The cool ones, ones that are art, fused or blown glass, artfully carved boxes...they all run upwards of $1000 +. All for about 2 tablespoons of ash.

There's a part of me that aches to have something nice. I mean, it's for my daughters. What does money matter? But then I think $1000? For that? Really? My child just died and your going to make that much money for that? It urks me.

A few months after Jorai passed, I found a proper container for her ashes. I actually found it at a normal store and I believe it's just a little decorative storage box. But it's pretty and red and shiny and it fits in with it's surroundings. It doesn't have huge arrows pointing to it saying 'look over here...at me...yup...here are the ashes!!'.' It's pretty and I love it, yet it's understated.

For the past year...nearly...I've been trying to find something for Selah and I just can't find it. And now, I want both of their containers to go together a bit. I want them to sit together and compliment one another. But I've been at a loss. I can't find anything.

But then all of a sudden last week, I thought, Jorai's container is big enough for both...what if I open her's up, and place her sister in with her so they can be together? I talked to Steve about it and he liked the idea, but I"m still not sure.

For all my baby-loss mama friends out there, what do you think? There's a part of me that wants 2 individual containers, one for each of my girls. I want the world to know I have 2 daughters, I want them both on my piano, separate. I want to honor them both in their own space. But I also think it would be cool for them to be together. They're sisters and what better place for them to be than to be together. Forever.

In the end, I also want to be cremated, after the doc's use up my body as best they can, and then I want my ashes to be placed in a casket with Jorai and Selah and Steve...and any other family member that passes. I want us to be together, as one.

And really, I guess it doesn't matter as I believe this flesh is just a shell and we'll be together in Heaven...but still. For now, how do you, if your child(ren) have been cremated what do you do? Do you think it's wrong to open up Jorai's 'resting place' and place her sister inside?

This really shouldn't be such a difficult decision, but for some reason it is. It's probably a normal reaction to the death of a child. But it's hard. And with her birthday coming up in a month, I just feel the need to place her in a proper spot, rather than have her continue to sit there in that white plastic box.

transluence

2010-11-21T20:02:00.002-05:00

When I started this blog, I had very little followers. I used it to vent and laugh and post about things I found brilliant and funny and things I believed in. As the years went on, more people found me and started following my posts. Posts about little things, funny postings and work woes, my best friend turned into love and then a wedding and a pregnancy...and then we lost Jorai and the people who followed my blog exploded. As with probably any community, the babyloss community is a huge one, but at the same time, a super small one. And in just a few weeks, people from all over the world started to follow my loss journey.

I've always felt so blessed to have so many caring people follow my ramblings. I can feel their love and laughter, pain and sorrow through their comments. I feel a real connection to people and it's a wonderful thing. I can honestly say that I have friends out there whom I've never met physically.

I'm 100% translucent in my writings, in my emotions. And it's a good thing. 99.99% of the time I am thankful for being so translucent. I want all of my family and friends to see what it's like to walk in my shoes. Feel my joy and laughter, as well as my pain and sorrow.

But the day I became a mama to a living child, something changed. I realized as much as I wanted to continue to post about Asher and our happiness and joy, there was always a hesitation. I knew that so many of my blog friends longed to have my happy ending. I knew my words at times would only bring them pain and that was hard for me. I was in a world where I wanted to shout my joy at the top of my lungs, while at the same time, keep silent so I don't cause my friends pain.

And then I decided to feed my blog into facebook and even more people have access to it. It wasn't like my blog was private. Anyone could have found me if they googled me...but now it was posted for all my 'friends' to see. So now, there are additional times where I want to bleed my emotions out there, but find myself holding back.

It OK. It's such a small fraction of the time where I feel I can't let my emotions flow, but it seems that those times are the ones where I really, need to talk. I feel like my insides are tearing apart and though I'm screaming, nothing is coming out.

I guess it's hard for people who typically write all their feelings down to keep them in. Every thing is fine. Every one is fine. I've just finally realized that relationships aren't always what you think they are. People are more selfish than I ever thought was possible and just as the all, too well known, bumper sticker says...Mean People Suck.

Some times it's really hard for a translucent person to be private. Even though I know it's best for all involved. I want to be selfish and vent. Guess it's a good thing I'm not selfish.

29 weeks

2010-11-21T14:00:00.002-05:00

Well, we made it. 29 weeks. It's far from over and my anxiety is still high, but we made it past 3 of the 4 high stillbirth weeks. 32 is next and the 'last' scary week...and well...I actually know tons of babies who were born still at term...some even over 40 weeks. So, I know with that knowledge, that I'll be a bundle of nerves until I hear a scream and feel a warm, slimy baby placed on my chest. But there's something about making it trough the 24th week and now the 28th week that's a bit refreshing.

Yesterday Steve's Aunt gave us gifts for the new baby. They are the first we've received. I've purchased a giraffe that makes noise and I have a muslin sleeper that I purchased for Selah, but other than that, I have refused to purchase anything. There's something about receiving these gifts for the new baby that makes it all so real. I sat upstairs today playing with the crib piano and feeling the new stuffed owls and giraffe...reading the book...and it hit me, the fact that I may actually be bringing a new little one home in my arms rather than a plastic box. I may get to read to him and kiss him and smell his warm skin. I may actually get my dream. I may feel the joy again.

This realization has made me want to start preparing. I mean, I'm nearly 10 weeks from having this child, and I've done nothing to the room. It's a mess. The closet is full of Asher's old clothes, the room is stacked with boxes and junk. And today, for the first time, I want to start thinking about cleaning it out, decorating it, putting the crib together. It feels so strange to me, to even have these emotions. I've tried to hold back my feelings. I've been trying not to get attached to this baby growing within me, but I'm now thinking about new born pictures and healing baths and newborn baby necessities. It feels so strange...but it's a feeling I welcome and it makes me a bit anxious and excited.

I'm 10 weeks 3 days from my 'due' date. And the time will fly with the holidays coming up. Am I ready? All along I've thought I'd lose this child too...maybe this time I won't! Maybe we'll get our dream fulfilled. Maybe through the loss, there will be joy. Maybe. I think it's time to let in the joy. Not be afraid of it.

Come on baby boy. Keep growing strong and healthy. Keep kicking me and making my abdomen as uncomfortable as you want. Give me heartburn and back pain, rib pain and sleepless nights, and push on my hip as much as you want. Just grow and thrive and take a deep breath, because I want to hear a big bellowing scream when you enter this world.

cutest lil' monkey in the world

2010-11-08T16:25:00.002-05:00

How many kids do you have?

2010-11-07T21:48:00.002-05:00

Today as I was getting entirely too many donuts for one person and my pregger belly was hanging low, the cashier asked me how far along I was. After I told her, she asked if this was my first and I simply said 'no, it's my fourth.'. Her only comment was 'Holy crap!'. I of course chuckled and waddled away.

As I was leaving the store, I realized that she thought I had 3, nearly 4 living children residing in my house. And the mere thought of it, made me so filled with joy that I could explode. Maybe even filled with pride. I do have 4 children, though some aren't here on earth. But in her eyes, I'm the one with 4 kids...here...with me and Steve...laughing and loving and learning and wow...laughing.... I like that.

We never wanted 4 children. Our goal was to always only have 2. And hopefully we'll have that under our roof come February, be really, we truly have 4. And see, usually when I'm asked if this is my first pregnancy and I say 'no, it's my 4th.'. The next question is either 'boys or girls?' or 'what are their ages?'. And then I have to explain that we've had 2 late term losses...and then I have to see the pity look on their faces and then ... blah.

But today...today was so entirely different. In 1 person's eyes, we have 3, nearly 4, beautiful, breathing, lovely children here on earth. And that little sliver of a peek, into a world I will never know, is beautiful.

Behavioral changes

2010-11-03T18:47:00.003-04:00

What do you do when you have a child who is acting like nice kiddo one moment and as soon as a friend comes into the room, he acts like a complete neanderthal? I don't get it. I don't understand how the mere presence of one child can change the behavior of mine so drastically that we can go from a fun filled morning to a complete breakdown and have to leave the situation. What do you do if it's a good friend? What do you do if it's a good kid? How can you change the behavior of a 2 1/2 year old when he sees a different behavior being exhibited by another? And what is acceptable and what isn't?

It's so bizarre to see how his temperament and actions have changed over the course of the past month or so. Everyone see's it. It's gentler and calmer and plays nicely for the most part...so to see his behavior change from the nice boy I've molded over the past few weeks to crazy toddler boy all within 5 minutes of a friend walking in, is so discouraging.

Maybe I'm being too strict. Maybe I expect too much for my very active little boy. I don't know. How do I teach Asher that one child's behavior may be OK in their household, but in our household it isn't? Can a 2 1/2 year old even comprehend that? I never realized how difficult being a parent really is. It's one thing to feed and clothe and love a child, but to teach him right from wrong and self-control and what is acceptable and non-acceptable behavior is so hard. I never knew that months of teaching your child something could be taken away with one afternoon playing with the wrong influence. And I'm not even saying this child is a bad influence...I'm just starting to notice how differently, in a bad way, Asher acts when they play together. And I don't want to separate them. But how do I rectify the issue? How do I teach Asher that he can play with his friend but not emulate him?

I don't want a perfect child. I just want him to be a child. I want him to enjoy his childhood and never feel pressured. I've never boast about how talented or smart my child is. I think that sets them up for failure and it drives wedges between friends. I don't need to know how many colors your child knows or that they can count...every one learns things at different stages. Your child isn't brilliant. Face it, he's a normal child. I'm not going to push my child into school or sports or anything just because someone else thinks I should. I just want him to enjoy his childhood, his innocence. I'm a pretty laid back mom. But I'm not OK with him acting like a neanderthal either. Even at 2 1/2. I've realized lately that with him, I really need to be more strict in the discipline department because I can see him pushing his boundaries and testing me. When I ask him to come, he walks the other way. And I see other kids doing this too. Older kids...and I've realized, that will be Asher of I don't stop this behavior now. But it's so hard. He's still such a young little boy. How much do you push? How much should I expect. I have a very energetic child...can I expect him to drop everything and come to me when I call? I don't think so...but how do I find the middle ground and how do I separate one child's actions from my child's?

Sorry, so many questions. I guess I just have a ton on my mind and I needed to mentally vomit them all out here. I love being a parent. I love being a parent to Asher. But man it's hard. Trying to make the best choices for your children while making your household a safe and happy haven is hard. I now fully understand mama guilt!

baby boy update

2010-11-01T15:46:00.002-04:00

I had another ultrasound this morning and everything looks great. He's big. He's measuring about a week older than he actually is. Which because I know when we conceived, I know he's just a big boy...have you seen his brother lately!?!...so that means 1 thing, he getting a ton of blood and nutrients! That is a good thing. The cord must be big and open and so he's nice and healthy. It's reassuring.

In saying that, I'm still a basket-case. I've been using my doppler all the time. This kiddo is an active mover, but then out of nowhere, he will turn quiet. Moving here and there minimally. It freaks me out. I'm checking for movement and blood hourly and I worry about Asher pressing too hard on my belly. I just can't wait for February.

I've been kinda frustrated with the perinatologist I saw a few months back. He told me something completely different that what he told my doc. He told me that at 24 weeks I'll start having weekly bio-physical profiles through at least 28 weeks. If the profiles show stress on the baby, I will be given steroids to move the baby's growth along and then deliver as soon as we can. What he told my doctor was that I was to get monthly ultrasounds through 28 weeks. period. So I guess one at 24 and one at 28. He then wanted me to go through, I believe, monthly non-stress tests. Thankfully my doctor rocks and changed his recommendation to bi-weekly ultrasounds from 23 - 28 weeks . It just seems so strange to me...why tell me something so differently than my doc? I just feel blessed to have the doctor I have. I know she truly cares not only for me and the health of this baby, but for my mental well-being as well. So, I'll have an ultrasound at 28 weeks and then she wants another at 32 weeks, which is another high stillbirth week. And then I think we'll start the non-stress tests.

So there it is. I'm currently 1 day shy of 27 weeks. 1 week shy of when we lost Jorai. It'll be a stressful few weeks, but I can do this...I can do this...

emotional rollercoaster

2010-10-20T13:14:00.002-04:00

I'm having one of those days where my anger is getting the best of me. It's been an emotional few days. I've been really worrying about the baby. He's normally a mover and shaker but for the past few days he's been pretty quiet. I've been checking his heartbeat and everything seems to be hard and steady , but I still worry.

So maybe it's my heightened emotions that are allowing my anger to peak, I don't know...maybe it's just a frustrating day. I just know that Asher's disobedience has been very trying for me today.

He's really been testing me. I tell him to stop and he runs. I tell him to stop doing something and he continues to do it. I ask him to come and he runs the other way. Today it was away from the car and through a parking lot. I know part of it is that he has friends who are runners. They'll just take off. No amount of yelling will bring them back. And he's just emulating them. I used to be able to yell 'STOP!' and Asher would stop cold...but now, he runs...just like his friends.

How do you train your children that a certain action is unacceptable in one household but OK in another? And how can a 2 year old even understand that concept? It's hard. You want your children to play with others and enjoy their friendships, but at the same time, their friends can ruin all the 'training' you've just accomplished. It's such a balancing act.

Anyway...today I yelled at him. I spanked him. I grabbed him by the arm multiple times. He just wouldn't listen. And with him running away, and me pregnant, I lose it. I feel horrible. It's been one of those fun, yet horrible days where I'm sure he went to bed thinking his mama hates him since the entire day I spent yelling and disciplining him when all he was doing was 'having fun'. Days like this make me feel spent and a horrible example of a mother.

It will be a lovely day when my hormone levels are finally back to normal and my emotions are in check. I just feel so crazy some days with all the hormonal changes, fear, anxiety, guilt, hurt, heartache, love, laughter and hope all flowing through me at the same time.

girl talk

2010-10-18T19:03:00.003-04:00

This is your warning boys...

My boobs are huge. And I'm not saying that just to put it out there, but it makes me wonder...I wasn't this big with Selah. And unfortunately I can't remember when I was pregnant with Asher what they were like and even if I did, they were different back then...pre-nursing boobs...oh how I miss you! But I do know that there's a major difference between Selah and this new babe. Which makes me think. Could my 'problem' be a hormonal one? Or maybe something else? Now, when we lost Jorai, my milk did come in. Majorly. It was horrible. But when I lost Selah it never came in...and Asher had even started nursing again. But for the past month, my breasts already feel full of milk. They're heavy and I've grown out of my bras.

I guess it could be the weight gain. I've gained weight over the past 6 weeks...more than I probably should...so it could be that. But they're warm and heavy too. It just makes me think. I wanted to talk to my doc about it last week, but I forgot. I'm only meeting with the NP next time...so I'm not sure if she'll have any answers. But I'll bring it up. I just think it's strange. I guess it could all be a fluke...but what if it's not. What if there's something my body doesn't produce when I get pregnant with girls? I could be totally out there, I just think it's interesting.

Oh my dear boy

2010-10-18T14:48:00.002-04:00

Why is it so fun to remove your pants and diaper? Why is it so fun to feel the cool breeze on your boyhood and stick you booty up in the air for all to see your goods? Don't you know that diapers are placed on you for a reason?

Asher loves to remove his pants and diaper. Luckily, he's never removed a dirty one, just ones soaked with urine. But I know one day I'll walk up to his room and there will be poo smeared all over. This is not something I'm looking forward to...at...all!

Today as I was waiting for him to calm himself and settle down for his nap, I casually looked over at his video monitor (and this is another reason why I love it so!) only to find his booty stuck straight up in the air. He normally only takes off his diaper after his nap, so this is a new trick to get me back up in his room. The stinker! And it's not like I can ignore it. I really don't want to clean up poo and/or urine from this carpet and bed. I have to go back up there. Oh my, what a stinker.

In nursing news, even though we haven't nursed for a few months, he still asks for it. When he sees 'the girls' out he reaches for them or tries to get close enough where he can latch on. Today at a friends house he saw a little girl nursing and couldn't stop talking about it. He then proceeded to lay down in my lap and press his mouth to my clothed boob. I think we're going to have a bit of a jealousy thing happen when the new baby comes. Which is why I stopped nursing him in the first place. I didn't want nursing to be a fight. Oh my.

He's such a darling boy. But man, oh man, can he be a handful!!!

juicy

2010-10-18T14:41:00.003-04:00

I just wanted to document this some where. Today Asher and I started Juice Plus+. We eat pretty well, but I know we're both lacking in the veggie department and I'm lacking a bit on fruit. And with all of my pregnancies and nursing for 2+ years, I know my body is depleted, so I wanted to try it. I currently take a prenatal vitamin, DEHA and Vit. D and I'm going to continue taking them, but I wanted to add this to my regimen as well. I think I'm going to keep Asher on his multi and definitely on his DHA and vit D.

So, I'll keep you posted on our health and energy...not that Asher needs any more energy!, but I'll document our journey. I want to keep us on them for at least 6 months after giving birth...so about 1 year, and then I'll re-assess. But I'm excited about starting this new journey...and as I say this, I've just gobbled up a whole bunch of chocolate/chocolate Trader Joe's O's! I have issues!!

update on me

2010-10-17T19:47:00.002-04:00

I haven't been posting lately. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I'm tired...maybe it's because I feel as if I'm complaining too much. I don't know. I just know it's been awhile. I keep thinking of logging on and letting all these thoughts leave me head, but I never do.

I think it's time for an update.

Asher is hilarious and is changing daily. He's a lover and a bit violent in his loving moments at the same time. But we've been working together and watching how others act around him and it's been amazing how much he's changed. I think when you pay attention, real close attention and find a discipline that works for your kid, amazing things happen. He can still be a stinker, don't get me wrong, but for the most part, he's really turned himself around.

He's talking a ton more now and stringing words together. It's been fun talking with him, though his favorite word lately has been 'why?'...he says it after everything. Over and over and over again. I finally just have to start ignoring him. I feel bad about it, but how do you answer why a car is a car? Or the why he ate something? Silly kid.

He's having his boyhood surgery in mid November and I'm freaking out about it. It scares me to death. I hate that he has to go through this and I feel bad that he'll be in pain and probably scared. Plus since I know someone who had a devastating reaction to anesthetic, I'm most nervous about that. But I know it's the right choice and we just have to trust the doctor to do his thing....there's that action that haunts me...trust.

As for me and the baby, every thing seems fine. I've been a basket-case for the past few weeks. I can't stop thinking of loss. I can't stop thinking that, the last jab I just felt will be the last. I'm 24 weeks. The week I lost Selah. 4 weeks from when I lost Jorai. I can't get away from the fear. People keep asking me at what point will I start to relax. And the truth is, not until I hear a loud scream coming from my wet squirmy baby boy in early February. I've started my ultrasounds...every 2 weeks...for a while and then I start bio-physical profiles and nst's. He's a squirmier and kicker and puncher. I feel him move around a ton. Which is nice. He also likes to show his boyhood. A lot. It's always the first sight I see in an ultrasound. Thank goodness we wanted to find out the sex this time around. The minute a tech puts an ultrasound probe on my tummy, I see legs spread and little boy bits waving hello...now do you think I can get a look at his cute little face? No way. Penis yes, face, no. Hence the lack of ultrasound photos. I seem to have a plethora of leg, hand and penis shots, but no profiles. What a stinker.

That's about it. I've been trying to fill my day and mind with Asher. I find comfort and laughter and love in our time together. I try to focus on us. And not think about what may come. But fear does sneak in, daily, hourly. One thing I've been surprised about, is that I'm already getting excited about Christmas. I'm already thinking about how we can celebrate with Asher and I feel a sense of peace and happiness that surprises me. I thought Christmas was ruined for us since we lost Selah on December 21st. But it seems, that maybe, though it will be hard, I think we'll still be happy and feel blessed this Christmas. And that brings me joy.

So that's it for now. I'll try to check in more often. Cheers my friends.

22 weeks

2010-09-28T21:34:00.002-04:00

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

2010-09-28T13:23:00.003-04:00

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!

trust

2010-09-25T21:53:00.003-04:00

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!

2010-09-22T22:13:00.003-04:00

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 then 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 should 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

2010-09-20T19:58:00.002-04:00

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

2010-09-20T15:57:00.002-04:00

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?

trust

2010-09-16T20:46:00.002-04:00

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.

2010-09-13T13:16:00.004-04:00

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.

Angels

2010-08-26T15:43:00.002-04:00

I've never gotten the whole angel thing when someone dies. I've heard it all. Supposedly, I have two angels in Heaven...watching over me...protecting me...waiting for me. Especially when babies or children die, they are immediately changed from a child, to an angel.

Don't people really know what angels are? Have we, as a society forgotten that angels aren't pretty little cherubs with wispy wings that hover above clouds or sleep upon flowers? They're not the cute, tiny pastel colored little angels that flood Hallmark stores. They're strong and bad-ass. They're so overpowering that they bring fear in people and talk with direct orders from God. Most times, when an angel is mentioned in the bible, people freak out. They don't look at the angel and want to hug it. They freak out and fall to the ground. In one of the most famous angel encounters, one we hear every Christmas...in Luke 2:9-10 it reads "And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel reassured them. "Don't be afraid!" he said. "I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people." The folks that saw this angel were freaked out! In Luke 1:12-13 it reads, "Zacharias was troubled when he saw the angel, and fear gripped him. But the angel said to him, "Do not be afraid, Zacharias, for your petition has been heard...".Zacharias was gripped in fear!

So why, when we know that angels are messengers of God...messengers that bring warning or good news or directions...and that quite frankly, aren't very...welcoming...why do we translate that into our babies? Our children?

And why on so many babyloss websites are there floating pastel 'angels' covering the pages? Why do people tell me I now have an angel in heaven? My girls, aren't angels. They were alive...and then they died...and now they live again in Heaven with Christ and I can't even imagine the party that happens every day up there. They're waiting for us. I believe they can check in on us...watch us let's say for a lack of a better word...but I don't think they're protecting me. I don't think their floating on clouds with wispy wings attached to their backs.

I don't know. I just don't get it. My babies, were babies...just babies.

The stillbirth roller-coaster

2010-08-22T09:49:00.003-04:00

As I was sitting in church last night I worried about my baby. I'm in this phase where I can feel movements at times but not at others. It's normally little flutters and bumps but never anything large. No big movements or jabs to really put my mind at ease. So though I know this is all normal and that there may be hours if not days where I don't feel anything, it still freaks me out. It makes me want to run to the hospital which in itself is silly since this lull in movement is expected and if the baby did pass, there's nothing they can do...but still...

So I sat there, trying to listen to the message, but not being able to. My fear kept me only thinking about death. But then, as fast as the dread hit me, it lifted and within seconds my fear was gone and replaced with the knowledge that in a few short months, we will be bringing home another child, another son. There was no question in my heart. We will be bringing home a child.

This roller-coaster of emotions is an almost every day occurrence. I'm freaking out one moment but a few moments later, I'm thinking of buying things for the baby or dreaming about our delivery, ending with a screaming, warm, slippery child in my arms. My emotions are all over the place.

Life is all around me, but so is death. Another mama from my OB-GYN's office lost a baby full term a few weeks ago. Just Thursday I met a woman who's friend lost her child at 25 weeks about 6 weeks ago. It surrounds me. Infertility, miscarriages, stillbirths. There is so much pain. But there is so much happiness too. I'm in an up-down ride that at times makes me nauseous. I can't wait for this all to be done.

I'm thinking of purchasing a doppler for my own ease of mind. I was talked out of it with Asher, but now, I think it could really help. Just knowing when I don't feel movement, that he's still OK in there...though I know it can be hard to find the little heartbeat sometimes, I still think it may bring me some calm moments.

the baby's bedroom

2010-08-14T14:59:00.002-04:00

I started cleaning out the baby's bedroom this morning. It's been the dumping ground for just abut everything...but mainly pregger clothes and stuff Asher has already grown out of. It was clean as of December '09. And then we lost Selah. We lost the hope that she would occupy the room, so I started using it was a dumping ground.

I had mixed emotions about cleaning it. I kept thinking about when I cleaned out the room for Selah...and then that made me feel as if I'm tempting fate...starting the downward spiral that's inevitably going to hit us. Another part of me got a little gitty. I started thinking about refinishing the dresser, choosing the pictures I would hang, and deciding what to do with the guest bed. Then I thought about starting to bring up some of the newborn clothes and necessities...but then my mind went dark again.
I found the box of little girl clothes and the clothes my mom gave me from when I was an infant. All pink and knitted, dresses and strappy sandals with flowers. I put a sweater into Jorai's memorial pile as I had purchased it for my first daughter...and had kept it in hopes of another...but what should I do with the rest. Sure I have friends I could give them to, or Shared Pregnancy, but can I? I mean, it's silly to keep them...but how do I get rid of them? I never purchased them for the girls...they were just stuff that I got...and why keep them? What would I do with them? But how do I throw them away as well? It's a small reminder that we had little girls...for a short time anyway. And the child I'm now carrying is a boy...and even if we lose him...I don't think I'll ever become pregnant again. At least not because we were trying to. So why keep them?

And then I found the muslin fish sleeper I purchased for Selah. Should I pass it down to her little brother? Or do I place it in her memorial box. It was the only thing I had purchased for her yet why just put it in a box to rest next to her blood stained blanket?

I wanted to continue cleaning up the room, putting things away, keeping certain things out, and day dreaming about the possibility of having it occupied by a permanent resident in early February...but then I remembered my track record and couldn't go any further. I want to be positive. I want to only think happy thoughts. But I can't. My mind always seems to go there...to those cold hospital rooms. The silence. The smells. The drugged, ripped apart at the seams, feeling. The emptiness. I know I feel so full right now. My belly is round and I feel more and more movement each day. I think of names and what his personality will be. I think of holding him and kissing his warmth and crying at his screams. But I fear the cold. I fear the silence. I fear that ultrasound tech, telling my ears what my heart already knows.

I'm 15 weeks. I have just 9 more until I hit 24 weeks. 13 until I hit 28 weeks. I only have 4 more weeks to miscarry...after that, I'll need to deliver. 19 weeks will be the start of my own personal hell on earth. I don't think I'm ready for it. I want to be positive. I want to be strong. 4 more weeks. Am I ready for this journey? Am I just as ready for the heartache as I am for the joy? Can I be? I just need to keep breathing.

Baby brother

2010-08-11T21:41:00.002-04:00

We had our appointment with Dr. Notsonice today. We started with the ultrasound that was suppose to check for downs and other chromosomal abnormalities. As I already knew. I'm too far along to check. But we were able to see the baby, we were able to see the heartbeat and the hands and feet and PENIS!!! Yup, we're having another boy. It seems so strange to know the sex. It doesn't seem right. I was so happy to hear that Asher was going to have a little brother. It's so cool...but I have to admit that there's also a small part of me that wanted a girl. But having 2 boys...there's something cool about that.

The second part of the exam was the consultation with Dr. Notsonice. I was bracing myself for it. I had all my comebacks ready...I walked in knowing that I was going to be pissed off in a few moments. The kicker? The appointment went really well. Seriously well. And Dr. Notsonice, was kinda nice. Really.

He tried to talk me into getting the quad test, which he didn't succeed...and surprisingly, he was OK about it. And we came up with a good plan. We're having an extensive ultrasound at 19 weeks. It will check everything. The placenta, the cord, blood flow, the baby...everything. At 24 weeks we will start having weekly bio-physical profiles through at least 28 weeks. If the profiles show stress on the baby, I will be given steroids to move the baby's growth along and then deliver as soon as we can. It's not the best...but if it brings this baby into the world alive, I'm all for it.

This appointment brought me hope. I'm still nervous. Real nervous. And bummed that I'll have to be watched so closely and have all these extra ultrasounds, but if it brings this child into the world kicking and screaming...I'm all for it. I'm hopeful...and that's a good feeling. I never thought I'd say this, but Dr. Notsonice, was nice and he gave me hope today. And we're having another son. Asher will have a little brother.

Guess it's time to start figuring out a name!

what to say?

2010-08-08T20:06:00.002-04:00

I never knew that the subject of children could ever be so bittersweet...

'Is that your first?'

'How many children do you have?'

'How old are they?'

'I bet you hope the child you're carrying is a girl since you already have a boy!'

If I don't answer honestly, I feel as if I'm dragging my girls names' through the mud...as if I'm not honoring them...I'm ignoring them. But if I answer these questions honestly, I get the look...the apologies...and I also know that I've just made the questioner extremely uncomfortable.

My answer? Usually, I tell the story. An abbreviated one. "This is our fourth child", "we have a son at home and two daughters in heaven"...depending on the situation I may go into our story a bit, or it may end there.

Tonight in the Lowes parking lot, we ran into a very nice couple who was waiting patiently for us to load Asher into the car, so they could get into theirs. The conversation starts...'Oh, no rush...we have kids at home...no worries!"..."What are you having?"..."Oh I bet you're hoping for a girl since you already have a boy."

'Yeah...I think I'd give my left leg for a girl. But not just any girl...not any girls...and no, actually we're hoping for a boy since something happens to girls when they're growing within me and they die. We're hoping for a boy because that will give us a slim sliver of hope that we may be able to hold a warm, breathing child, rather than a cold, tiny, lifeless one.'.

OK...so that was a conversation that only played out in my head...my real response? "We're actually hoping for a boy...I think it would be cool to raise boys.'. No lie. Just not the full truth either.

I think this is the hardest aspect of being a mama to Heavenly babies. The constant questions. The never ending mother questions. Describing your family...filling out forms of all kinds that ask to list family members...it's non-stop. It's a constant opportunity to share my sweet baby girls lives with others...it's a way for me to honor them and love them from 'the grave'...but it's also so, very, hard. Not that I ever...ever, want to forget...but it's also a constant reminder.

sensitive subject...

2010-08-01T11:26:00.002-04:00

I've been going 'round and 'round in my head of whether to post on this subject or not as it's kinda one of those areas, people don't seem to talk about. But I've finally decided that I need the support and reassurance that what we're doing is 'right'...and ...well...since when have I not talked about something? right?

So today we'll be talking about testicles. Asher's right testicle to be exact.

The day after he was born, our doc informed us that his right testicle wasn't descended but that it's normal and that within the first year, most descend. We never thought much about it.

It still hasn't descended. Well, that's not true. It can descend, it just doesn't stay down. At his two year check up, our doc decided to send us to a pediatric urologist. We had that appointment on Monday. I got a strange vibe from the guy. He was quiet and not very friendly and he didn't interact with Asher at all...which is strange for a peds doc...but whatever. He poked and prodded at my boy and then immediately started talking about surgery to pull it down and secure it. Which of course freaked me out! All of a sudden, this is a big deal?

I got on-line finally and yeah, it can be a big deal. In adulthood it could cause sterility of that testes, it could become cancerous or a whole slew of other things. But that's for an undescended testicle...Asher has one that can be drawn down and when hot, has definitely come into place...from what I've read, that is called a retractable testicle which requires no treatment. So the questions are...what does he really have and what's the best form of treatment?

He had an ultrasound today, which he was a rock star in! I'm so proud. He just laid there as some lady ultrasounded his boyhood. He laid all content with his John Deere tractor DVD. But the ultrasound never found his testicle. Which I found strange. It's there...the doc pulled it down and showed us on Monday. So what does that mean?

Sorry that I have to put all this out there about my boys' bits and pieces, it's just taken up a lot of my thoughts lately. I'm worried for him. I'd hate for this to affect him in the long run, but the thought of surgery scares me too. Has anyone out there had to deal with this? Anyone?

Pretty pusher hospital gown

2010-08-01T08:18:00.003-04:00

Look at how pretty this is!!!I think I'll just have to go buy one! Plus it looks so much more comfy than those ugly, scratchy light blue gowns you get in the hospital. And it's cheap! Yay! So excited.

Jesus in Shantytown

2010-07-31T18:21:00.002-04:00

Hey friends. My dear friend started a blog that's beautiful. Well, I think it is anyway. It's all about her walk with Christ and the Church through her eyes. She's a beautiful soul, woman, mother, friend as well as an amazing writer, singer and song writer! Here's how she describes her blog:

Mandie Oliver
I am a writer, a Christ-follower, and formerly homeless. Yes, that's right. I used to be one of those people you wouldn't give money because you "know" they'll just blow it on a bottle of Schlitz Malt Liquor. Today, when I encounter the American church I feel homeless again-- disconnected, misunderstood, out of place. I'm Mandie and Jesus is my life support. I'm smitten with His mission and in love with His Church, warts and all. This blog chronicles my reflections on American Christianity through the eyes of a former spiritual vagabond. I hope to provide a space that allows the plight of the poor and marginalized to be seen in the light. Here's to finding the Way, the Truth and the Life (Jesus). Welcome to the conversation.

Go check out her blog and giver her some lovin'.

Discipline

2010-07-31T09:54:00.002-04:00

I feel like I'm at a loss. Some days, I even feel as if I'm at the end of my rope. Some days are fine...but other days, I find myself angry at my darling child. I love Asher. He seriously is the coolest kid I know...though I know I'm biased. He's super smart, and witty, and spirited...so very spirited. He loves on people, all the time....all the time! He loves to give hugs and kisses so much that there are times I see him pinning down 7 year old friends to give kisses! He loves to snuggle and share his snacks and drinks, his laugh is infectious and he's super sweet to babies.

But there's this other side of him that can be discouraging. He's a brute. I don't think he means to be...but with his nearly 40 pound, 40" stature, he kinda just is. Last night was a perfect example. We were at the East Lansing Concert Series down at the fountain having a grand ol' time...singing...dancing...when all of a sudden, a little 12 month toddler came by to say hi. Asher, having to show his dominance, smacked the kid on the cheek and then proceeded to cram his granola bar into the kids mouth. So, one part of me thought, wow...he wants to fight this kid, but within the next moment, he wanted to share his snack with him...so what is he doing? What is he thinking?

I think sometimes he smacks kids as a 'hello'...which I'm not sure where he gets. He likes to smack peoples butts or backs as a hello. But he doesn't do it softly...And all of a sudden, especially when he's excited, he'll reach out and smack a child's face or grab a hold of their cheek and pull. I of course feel horrible and embarrassed and I don't know what to do to stop the behavior. And more importantly, where does he even get this behavior from?? And lately, he's been running up to someone and ripping a toy out of a child's hand...which I think he may have learned from a friend...but still...how do you stop it?

What do I do? How do I discipline? I'm at a loss. We do time-outs, and yes, they remove Asher from the situation, but a gentle description of what he's done wrong and time by himself, doesn't seem to phase him. We talk about his behavior, I ask him why he's acted out, I ask him to go apologize and give hugs or show gentle touches....but seriously some days, not a few moments later, he's acting out again. He does great in time-outs. All I have to say is go to time-out and he'll find a place to sit down...and he stays...but the whole process doesn't seem to change his behavior.

I don't like hitting. I think it's silly for us. I don't condone it...and I think there are situations where it may be the best choice, but I think it's hard not to over do it when you're angry and I don't know what I'm teaching my son if I'm telling him not to hit, yet I hit him as a response to his hitting. How can I say, don't hit...but then hit. In saying that, I've tried smacking him. I've smacked his hand and his bottom. The other day as he continued to hit a 10 month old's leg with a plastic spoon, I chose to show him what it felt like...again though, I instantly thought, 'what am I teaching him?'.

I don't know where this behavior comes from. We're not violent people. We never spanked him, or hit him, or grabbed at his skin as an infant...so where does he get it? I sometimes wonder if it's because he still doesn't have a large vocabulary...maybe it's his way of communicating...but how do I re-direct it into a positive touch, rather than a brutal one?

I think the hardest thing with me is that I get sick of being around him. After disciplining him day after day and seeing no change in his behavior and having no break until Steve comes home or the weekend hits, I just get burned out. And I hate that feeling. Not only does it make me feel like a crappy, mama. But it also makes me feel totally ungrateful and selfish because I have too many mama friends who would give anything for a living child...and the worst part, is when I'm feeling angry and I'm yelling at my wonderful child...I think about what Jorai and Selah are thinking about my behavior. I wonder if they're looking down at me disappointed. It's a horrible feeling.

For all of you mama's out there with spirited, and sometimes aggressive children, what do you do? How do you re-direct their bad behavior into positive behavior? How do you encourage their spirited nature, yet change bad behavior...and how do you keep your sanity in the process. I think the worst part in all of this, is how I feel after I lose my cool. All I want is to give my child the best, most nurturing, loving, open and caring upbringing as I can...yet sometimes I feel as if I'm damaging him with my anger and yelling. It's the worst feeling. When I look into those big brown eyes of his, I feel as if I've already failed him. And that is my worst nightmare.

ignorance

2010-07-26T15:10:00.002-04:00

I wish I could be ignorant. I think about it every day. How wonderful it would be to be a blissfully, ignorant pregnant woman. I wish I could be hopeful and gitty about every little thing. I wish I could go to appointments without fear of hearing the dreaded words 'this is the heart, and I'm sorry to tell you that it's not beating'. I wish I could take medications without a thought...without fear. I wish I could only think about the future...I wish I could start preparing the baby's room and start buying the baby things. I wish...

But I can't. Even as I type this, I look up to see the pictures of my babies...one dead...one living...another dead. The odds are stacked against me. The positive side of me says 'well, it's the order to now have another living child'...but I know the odds. I'm no longer ignorant to the hell that can come.

Here's a current dilemma. I have asthma. It's really only sports related...or is aggravated by high humidity or altitude...in pregnancy people with asthma either see it completely go away or see it get worse. Mine, for all 4 pregnancies has gotten worse. Way worse. From the minute I get pregnant, I feel as if someone is sitting on my chest. I never have had an attack, but it's a constant, feeling as if I'm breathing through coffee stirrer. I'm suppose to be taking singulair to open up my airways...but it scares me. Everything scares me. Even tylenol scares me. The thing with singulair is that one side effect in kids is depression and suicidal thoughts. In my mind, I wonder about what effects of me taking it could happen in the developing brain of my baby. So...I try not to take it for a while...but the thing is, the brain is always forming...it's mostly forming from conception to 28 weeks, but even from 28-40 weeks, stuff is happening and nerve cells are forming connections.

So I'm constantly at odds. Do I take it, because I can't breathe..which not only makes me feel crappy, but I know that if I can't breathe super well...the baby isn't either...or do I not take it because it's a catagory B drug, which hasn't been tested on pregnant mothers and they have no idea what it could do to a developing child?

This is where I wish I was ignorant. In my pregnancy with Jorai, of course I was careful..and weary of drugs, but if my doctor told me to take something, I would have. And I would have left the office with a big fat smile on my face because I 'knew' everything would be wonderful. That's no longer the case. I even refuse the diabetic test @ 28 weeks because we lost Jorai 3 days after that test. Though I don't think the test caused her death...the stress of all that sugar couldn't have helped.

It's been nearly 13 weeks now in my current pregnancy and I'm struggling. I'm breathing. But I'm struggling. I almost broke down today and started taking the meds. But I didn't. I'm no longer ignorant. I'm freaked out about every little thing. I used to love being pregnant. I no longer love it. There are things I love. Many things. But I'm also scared...all the time. And for that, I hate it. Is there a way to catch the hand of ignorance and hold on for dear life?

baby 4.0

2010-07-18T11:29:00.002-04:00

I'm trying really hard to be excited about this baby. Really hard. I feel like a horrible mom by protecting my heart like this. But I can't help myself.

I'm 11 weeks 3 days. Nearly out of the 1st trimester. 8 weeks away from the point where I'd have to deliver this child if we were to lose it. That is the scariest thing for me. I can't go back there. I can't do it again. Can I?

I had an ultrasound on July 8th. I was 10 weeks. We saw the heartbeat and the little bean. It was such a blob...a blob with little arm and leg buds. It was cool seeing our child at that stage, because I know the next time we see him, there will be legs and arms and fingers and a face.

I'm being sent to the perinatologist soon...not sure when. The local doc is a jerk, so it'll be interesting and I'm already preparing myself to walk out of his office...but hopefully it will go well and he can be professional and caring. He'll do a high resolution ultrasound and look closely at the cord and baby. And of course we'll find out the sex. Which is such a strange concept to me. I'm unsure about it, yet excited at the same time . We never found out with Jorai, Asher or Selah...but I think I may relax a tiny bit, if I find out that it's a boy. Maybe a little.

I bought a belly book journal a few weeks back and yet it still sits unused. I know I need to start it...it's just so hard. I keep talking to Asher about his baby brother or sister...but every time I do, I also wonder if I'm just setting him up for sadness. I want to be a normal happy pregnant woman who is gitty and buying fun things for her child...but how can I be, when I know the possibility of loss is so great?

That's where I am. I'm happy...but cautious...guarding my heart. I want to start preparing the baby's room, but I know that it may be for nothing and that petrifies me. I feel car sick all day everyday and exhausted and though I know those are good signs...I was sick with Selah for a long time too. I want to only feel joy, for I have so many baby loss mama's who don't have a living child...or can't get pregnant...or keep having miscarriages...so I am trying really hard to be happy...but I'm just cautions and really trying to guard my heart. But how can't you feel a bit of joy, when you have a little piece of heaven growing within you? That's truly amazing.

I'm just so utterly scared that this little piece of Heaven will be ripped out of my arms again. That's a pain that scares me beyond words or descriptions. How do I train my heart and mind to ignore the truth? How can I become ignorant again? Can I pretend the fear away? I just hope and pray that this child will come to us screaming and pink and warm...and SCREAMING! Let me hear those lungs my child.

Nursing my boy

2010-07-17T17:14:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been nearly an entire week since Asher nursed. It's a bit bittersweet...mostly nice and freeing..but a little sad. It's something we've shared for over 2 years now...minus the 6 week break we took between the time that I originally weaned him and when we lost Selah.

He's doing really well minus the few times where he saw others nursing. He still asks for it, but when I tell him no, he's fine. There's no fussing or crying, he just goes about his daily destruction. It's almost as if he's testing me to see if I'll give in and whip it out for him.

It just seems so strange...to be done. Really, truly done. I wonder, if I lose this new child I'm carrying...will I see if he wants to nurse again? I don't know. It gave us both the comfort we needed while grieving...but I don't know. I shouldn't even let my mind go there...but it does...for obvious reasons.

So yeah...for memory purposes, the last time I nursed my sweet boy was at 8am on 12 July 2010. He has become more of a cuddler now. He wants me to sit on the couch with him so he can lay his head on my shoulder or on my chest as he watches curious george. I like it. Snuggles are such a blessing.

preggers update

2010-07-03T13:21:00.004-04:00

I hit 9 weeks last week. Though my belly looks like the baby's 4 months along! Oye. I'm starting to 'feel' pregnant. My belly feels full and tight. I can't lay on my stomach anymore and even when I lay too far over on my side, I get ligament pain.

I have an ultrasound next week Thursday and I'm nervous. I keep getting a feeling that the baby will already be gone. I'm dreading the appointment...but there's another side of me that thinks that the news would be a kind of relief. Does that make me a horrible person? I mean, I want this child. More that I can express. But if I lose the baby now, I won't have to deliver and hold another lifeless child. There won't be a blood stained blanket wrapped up in a painted box to place in my 'hope' chest. There won't be another canister of ashes resting on my piano or photo's of another lifeless child hanging on my wall.

I want this child, but I'm so afraid of what's to come. I'm afraid to bond with this child...and if I see him or her on that screen, I can no longer ignore that there's a child growing within me. I keep thinking of things that I may need when this child comes home, but I refuse to buy anything. Well, I did buy one thing. A plush giraffe for the crib that you can wind up and it plays twinkle, twinkle little star...Asher's favorite song. Even that though made me feel as if I jinxed myself.

2 nights ago, I had a dream that I went to a memorial...it was vague and I'm not sure who's memorial it was, though I know it was for a child and I had asked my friend if she wanted me to bring something in remembrance of her son Charlie. I woke in a panic. Both with Jorai and Selah, I had death dreams. With Jorai, I just played it off...with Selah, it startled me...but I pushed it off to the side. I never had a death dream with Asher. So I keep wondering...was my dream about this new baby? With Jorai and Selah dreams, I held them and knew they were mine...this dream was really vague...so was it just a memorial dream...or was it a miscarriage dream?

I'm trying to push it away. I'm trying to ignore it. But it's still lingering there...haunting me.

I'm not sure what they'll see at my ultrasound next week. I'll only be 10 weeks...I know we'll be able to see a heartbeat. But what else? I'll be going to a perinatologist soon too. I hope he'll be able to take a good look at the cord...and I pray I'm carrying a boy. I know it won't take all my fears away...but it will sure help a little.

There's your update. I'm excited about the possibility to birth and raise another child. Too see Asher with a living sibling would be amazing...but I'm nervous. Petrified really...and I think it will only get worse once 20 weeks hits. I'm dreading it.

2 years!

2010-06-27T17:07:00.002-04:00

People keep coming up to me and saying 'WOW! You've already popped!'...or... 'Do you have twins in there?'. Ya just gotta love all the comments that come with pregnancy...but at least I am pregnant and it's just not people thinking I am. Not that I'm a chunk...I've actually lost all the baby weight...but there's a problems that occurs when you've been pregnant for as long as I have...and it's a hard 'bump' to get rid of.

As I was contemplating all of my pregnancies and how fast I start to 'bulge' out, I started counting. These are the stats.

I got pregnant with Jorai in late November '06. I was 28 weeks when we lost her in June '07.
I got pregnant with Asher in September '08 and carried 40 weeks 1 day, delivering him in June '08.
I got pregnant with Selah in August '09. I was 24 weeks when we lost her in December '09
I got pregnant with this little bean of ours on May 15th '10....

So from December '06 through now, I've been pregnant 4 times...what's scary is that I've been pregnant 100 weeks so far...100 weeks in 3 years and 7 months. I've been pregnant more than not, in the past 3 years and 7 months. I've been pregnant almost 2 full years.

2 years! I've been pregnant 2 years out of the past 3 1/2 years! No wonder my belly pops so soon! I've actually not gained a single pound in the past 8 weeks, yet by the looks of my stomach, I look like I'm in my second trimester. It's ridiculous. But so is being pregnant so freakin' long!

2 years...this is just plain crazy! I'm not sure how my poor body is functioning with all the hormones and extra fluids and strain of it all. 2 years. I'm officially an elephant (gestationally speaking...no smart comments please!!!)...with 7 more months to go...

oye ve!

Abiding Hope collages

2010-06-23T18:27:00.003-04:00

There's a beautiful babyloss mama who makes memorial collages and posts them on her website. Her website is Abiding Hope Collages and like most babyloss mama's, she provides this memorial for free. You give her a few words or phrases that describe your child and even foot prints if you'd like, and she creates beautiful memorials. Here are the ones that she made for Jorai and Selah. I've turned them negative to better see them.

Sickness and sleepless nights abound

2010-06-21T16:32:00.003-04:00

Last week Asher started drooling like a drunk man. It was disgusting. It was worse than when he was 8 months old. SO gross. So of course I figured that he was teething...which I still kinda think he was, but it turned out to be so much more. It turned into a virus called herpangina, which is related to herpes, but no it doesn't affect the vagina...it causes painful ulcers on the tongue and throat. So painful that kids can't eat. It's supposedly a 'mild' virus, though it was never mild for Asher. He had a low grade fever, but also developed a horsey cough and today his nose started running river loads. It's been a rough week. We went to the doc. this morning...for the third time this week....and he now has an ear infection! Poor buddy. It's his first ear infection...his first round of anti-biotics and his first taste of food coloring and high fructose corn syrup which was in a cough syrup they gave us. I find it interesting that they fill medicines which are suppose to help us, with crap that can harm us.

Well, since Friday, I have gotten very little sleep. Very little. On Friday night I maybe got 5. Saturday, 3...3! Steve let me sleep in Sunday morning, so I got 5 total. Last night, I hooked in the humidifier and he only woke a few times, though I'm so sleep deprived, that I'm still exhausted. Utterly. Today he took almost a 4 hour nap! I joined him for a bit of it, so I think I'm starting to catch up, but I think it will be another 9pm bedtime for me.

What I've learned during these past few days of having a sickie...

taking care of a 2 years old who feels crummy, sucks.
being sick, I guess, allows a toddler to become an emotional basket-case who's running around happy one second and whining the next.
taking care of a sick toddler and growing a child is utterly exhausting.

Can someone wave their sickness sucker over my child to make him feel better....and grant me 2 fulls days of blissful, uninterrupted sleep? Please?

Oh, my sweet sickie punkin' pants, please feel better soon so we can play with our friends and leave this quarantined house...and get some sleep!

Coolest toddler gift ever!

2010-06-21T16:22:00.003-04:00

Who doesn't love to be tickled? I mean, you hate it...but love it, right?. And kids, LOVE it. They run back to you over and over again to get tickled. Just yesterday our neighbor buddy crawled up into my lap, specifically to get tickled. Crazy kid!

Asher got the coolest present for his birthday a few weeks ago and I just have to share it. It's called 'Tickle Monster'. It's a book by Josie Bissett. A seriously cute book...and as an extra, you can buy the tickle monster gloves. Asher L-O-V-E-S it. Loves it. And you can buy it as a set now too. It's seriously a great gift...I think it's my new gift for folks. Love it!

Trust

2010-06-17T13:35:00.003-04:00

I've been thinking about this for awhile and was never really sure how to put it to paper, so to speak, so bare with me.

I have a lot of fears with pregnancy and even with Asher still. Obviously I have my reasons. It comes with the territory. I worry each day that I'm losing this child. I look for blood stains and I question the fact that I still haven't started getting nauseous yet. I still check on Asher all through the night, almost shaking him awake to make sure he's not sleeping too soundly and won't wake up. I know...I'm neurotic. I worry all the time. I blog about it sometimes, but in honesty, I don't blog about half my fears as I know the answer I'll get. And in a way, I hate typing these posts because I would hate for people to take them the wrong way...I appreciate words of advice and wisdom...I truly do. But there's one that just never sits right with me. 'Trust the Lord'

I think if there's anyone out there that truly can trust that the Lord's will, will prevail, it's the one's who have held their child, cold and limp, in their arms. If there's one thing I know...God's will...His plan, will unfold in my life. I've seen it. In good times and bad times. No matter how hard I pray for my wants, it's His desires that will be seen. I know this more than anything else.

So what exactly are people trying to say when they tell me to trust God? I can't trust God to give me what I want, because that may not be in His plan. Being able to live with and hold and laugh with and see grow and love and live was not God's plan for Jorai or Selah. And believe me I prayed for it. And if I'm being truthful, I thought my prayers would deliver. They didn't. I'm still dealing with that. And it's getting better. I started praying again. A little. But I still feel a bit foolish praying. As again, I know that what I want, doesn't matter in the long run. No matter what I want, what I long for...it doesn't matter. And I need to be OK with that. I need to trust that God has a reason for all of this. A very good reason. So is that what they mean when they say trust God? Trust that He knows what's best? I don't know.

All I know is that God's plan will unfold in my life and I have two choices when it does. I can piss and moan and become a bitter old woman. Or I can deal with the hurt and somehow find the strength to glorify it. This thought always brings me back to the song Blessed be Your Name. That song always kills me. It never did before. But ever since losing my girls, I can never get through it. I want to....but then those horrid lyrics come...

'He gives and takes away
He gives and takes away
My heart will chose to say
Lord, blessed be your name'

Yup. He gives and takes away for sure. For sure. I know that. All too well. I can trust in that...now, can I trust that my heart will chose the right path? The path to glorify His plan, rather than sit and wallow?

I love my beliefs. I love scripture. I love when people use scripture. But sometimes, it sure is hard to be given scripture from someone who has no idea what those words may mean to you. For example...I have VERY loving friends that say to me 'I have a good feeling about this time.', or 'This baby will be fine.', or 'I know this one will end well!.'. Um...really, you don't. And though I know they only mean good things telling me that. They're all empty words. They are heartfelt and they are trying to make me feel better. But it doesn't. Because we don't know. None of us do. Just like, I can trust the Lord to give me what I want, I can pray for it...but it's all in His hands...and His hands alone.

It's all kinda hard. I think we all think that we have control of things, but we really don't. We can act on things and strive for things and long for things...but really, we're all just waiting to see God's plan weave out before us. There's no trusting that God will give you your desires...there's only trust that His will, will prevail. And then you have to find the strength to glorify it no matter how wonderful or painfully it plays out in your life.

Future endeavors

2010-06-15T17:41:00.005-04:00

I've been thinking about my life as a babyloss Mama for along time now...three years actually. I know that want to help people. I always have. I guess I figure that I was taken down this road for a reason and I want to be able to honor my girls with something good. Since losing Jorai, I've wondered what I could do, but nothing really seemed to take root. I am making a website that will be up...sometime...and I lobby for stillbirth legislation when I can...I also have plans to talk to local hospitals about their baby loss procedures...but I've always wanted to do more. But what?

Another babyloss friend of mine made this amazing penpal program site to link up people who have gone through similar losses and I'm simply amazed by it. It's so cool. And it's unlike anything else I've seen before. After seeing her site, the quest to find something I can do and that fits me, got even more intense.

And then one day I realized that I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I love people. I want to love on those who have gone through a loss or multiple losses. I know what it's like to lose one child...two children. I also know the fear of being pregnant after a loss. I love pregnancy. I love birth. I love breast feeding...

I'm going to become a doula and maybe a lactation consultant!

It's not going to be for a little while. I want to be home and focus on my family when they're young...but when this baby growing within me turns 2ish (hopefully!!!) I think I'll start the process.

I want to give free services to those who have gone through a loss as well as talk to the hospitals and make myself available for people who come to deliver a still child or a child who won't make it. I of course want to take on happy, healthy, "normal" clients as well, but my focus will be on babyloss parents.

When I was pregnant with Asher, we had a team of two extremely lovely ladies who were always there to keep me at ease. Unfortunately, Asher had different plans and decided to come running out of me, so we didn't have our doulas there for the delivery. But they came after and I loved having them. One of them even came when I was in the hospital delivering Selah, as she just happened to be driving through town. Having her there was wonderful. I will always hold them close to my heart. And now, I want to give others, what they gave me.

I'm so excited! A part of me wants to start now, but for now, it's not time. But someday soon...I'm going to become a doula! YAY!

near-death

2010-06-10T22:01:00.003-04:00

One day shy of turning two, I almost lost my boy. This was the first time I've actually been really scared.

While we were on a walk tonight, we stopped by a friends house. All was fine until My son and his friend decided to walk down the hill to their backyard. What I had forgotten, was that they had a coi pond in the back. It wasn't until my friend reminded me that it started to sink in how much Asher loves water. As soon as I started to walk towards their backyard I saw Asher going right towards the thing. I started running and yelling 'STOP!, STOP!'. But as always, he didn't stop and to my horror I saw him slip in. He flipped to his back and started sinking. By the time I reached him, his mouth and nose was under the water and these huge brown eyes were staring at me with such fright that I almost lost it. But thankfully I kept my calm and my mama instincts kicked in. I caught his pant leg and lifted him right out of the water. He was freaked. I was freaked. I'm just so glad that I was right there to grab it out. If I got there just a few moments later he would have been submerged and the water was so green, I may not have seen him.

I couldn't stop kissing him as I was rocking him tonight. I keep going in to check on him as he sleeps. I know I won't sleep much tonight, as I'll continually wake to check on him. Ugh. He seems fine. He was scared and cried a little, but he hardly coughed and before we left, he actually went right back up to that stinkin' pond as if he was ready to take another swim. OYE!

I know this will be the first of many near death experiences that will scare the pants off me, but man. I swear this child is going to send me to an early grave! I'm just so glad he's fine. It's just a reminder how much you have to watch your kids! Asher plays in water all the time. But with those slippery, steep slopes in the coi pond, he didn't stand a chance. Poor punkin'! Poor Mama!!!

Dear son, please stop scary your mama. She can't take much more drama in her life.

Complete and Total Barf-A-Rama

2010-06-08T08:30:00.004-04:00

Do you remember the story Gordy told in the movie 'Stand By Me', about Davie 'Lardass' Hogan? The one about the pie eating contest where the picked on kid got even by eating too much pie, and then made himself puke all over everyone...well...this is the vision I get some times when someone says something ridiculous.

I know it's wrong....but when I hear someone complaining about their pregnancy or telling me or someone else how disappointed they are about being pregnant....I wish I could open my mouth and spew puke all over them.

I know...it's really mean. I know pregnancy is hard...I know that pregnancies sometimes come when they're not planned...but for all of my friends who have tried for years to conceive and have yet to have success, to all my friends who have lost one, two, three, plus...children and for my own hurt, all I want to do is scream. All I want to do is grab onto their shoulders and shake them silly. I want them to take one step in my shoes or the shoes of my friends. Maybe then they could take one minute to be grateful, thankful and feel blessed.

I know I have a very exposed and sensitive nerve on this subject, and I know people are just being people and 'not meaning' what they say...at least I hope they don't. But if I'm being totally honest...which I think you all know by now that I am...this is what I really want to do.

dreams

2010-06-05T17:01:00.002-04:00

The other night I dreamt that this baby growing within was born. My child crawled out of me. There was no pushing...no doctors...the baby crawled out. Crawled. Strange...I know.

I'm trying not to get excited here...but with both Jorai and Selah, I had death dreams prior to their passing. Though this baby crawled out...and that was strange...he/she was alive and looked to be full term. Not to say I could have a death dream in the future...or not and still lose him/her...but...

I'm just saying.

Still expecting the worse...but what if...

potty training 101

2010-06-05T09:39:00.002-04:00

I need advice!

Asher is starting to show signs that he may, in fact be ready to start potty training. Of course I'm not going to pressure him, at all...but I do want to have some things ready and start introducing the concept to him.

Yesterday, as I was in the bathroom doing my hair, Asher came in, climbed onto the toilet, which was the first time he's ever done this, and started pushing to poo. He them climbed down and laid himself over his foot stool to finish the job. The laying across something for leverage has always been his preferred method of poo. Later in the day, he again, brought something to me, to show me that he needed to go.

Now, I'm trying not to get excited here. And I definitely do not want to push him in any way, I just want to start introducing him to things.

So here are my questions:

What potty's do you like? I'm looking for a potty seat for the toilet. We have a Bjorn potty chair and I think I may get another one for upstairs, but I was impressed that Asher knew to use the toilet for poo. We've had the potty seat in our living room for months now. He goes to it, sits down and grunts...but he's never gone to it when he's actually had to go.
Any advice for boys?

I actually never thought we'd even be discussing this at his age. He typically could care less that he's wet or dirty...but with his new development, I figured it couldn't hurt to just start talking to him and introducing things to him.

Happy birthday Jorai

2010-06-03T13:26:00.002-04:00

Today marks my baby girls' 3rd birthday. I can't even begin to explain the thoughts that run through my mind. I wonder what she would have been like...what she would would be doing today...I wonder what her laugh would sound like or what my heart would feel if she threw her arms around me.

It's been three years, though it still feels as if it were yesterday. Three years. It's been three years since I last saw you, held you, kissed you. Three long, long years, my love. I miss you so. I love you.

Happy birthday miss Jorai Mae. Whoop it up with Jesus my sweet. We'll be missing you and hugging you from down here.

Asher memories

2010-05-28T01:36:00.000-04:00

I started this blog post in February....and I figured that it's time to finally finish it. Here are the latest...and maybe not-so-latest Asher happenings:

You're obsessed with ostriches, pelicans and flamingos. You call all three ostiges. You love to watch 2 ostriches fighting on youtube...I tell you they're dancing. All day long, you ask to watch 'ostiges'.
You crawled out of your crib for the first time on December 29, 2009. For 2 1/2 weeks, you didn't do it again...and then on January 13, 2010 I caught you on top of your dresser in the morning playing with your white noise. That morning, I re-arranged your bedroom. When you were suppose to be sleeping at your afternoon nap, you decided to climb out of your crib not once...not twice...but 3 times. I had to rock you to sleep that day...and when you woke, I lowered your crib an additional 3 inches. That lasted 5 weeks and 4 days. On Monday, February 22, you crawled out again and came to find mama in the bedroom. Mama told you that you shouldn't have crawled out of your crib, so you turned back around, walked into your room and started playing with toys! You haven't done it since. You'll crawl up on the crib rail, hang both feet over the edge and then pull yourself back into the crib so you won't fall to the ground It's crazy.
You're a drumming fool! All day, every day. Drum, drum, drum. We bought you a drum set that continually breaks. It's held together with super glue and duct tape. When it falls apart, we hear a 'Uh-Oh!' and then you bring us the pieces. You're constantly losing your sticks too and so it's a mad dash to find them. Mama keeps finding more drums at goodwill..someday you'll have a crazy huge drumset!
You always point out mama's face mole and then kiss it.
You never needed to sleep with anything, but now you have to have your friends turtle, ostrich, J.G., your giraffe friend and now Ellie, your elephant friend. You crawl into bed and point to each one calling their name. "Tutle, J.G., Ostige, Ellie!"
You love your friend Brian's bike. Over the course of a month you've gone from simply sitting on the bike, to learning how to petal yourself. You like to ask Mama or Papa to 'Pooosh' you. Grandma and Grandpa bought you your own bike as early birthday present and you love riding it back and forth in the neighborhood.
You can't get enough of Kipper. It's such a silly, simple Euro cartoon...but you love it. Each time we log onto netflix, you immediately call out 'OOOOOHHHHH!' and point to Kipper. Well, that or the Wiggles.
You are constantly hurting yourself, and with each time, you say 'boo boo!'. and then run to me so I can kiss it. , When Mama asks if you need kisses after you fall, you show her the boo-boo and then press your hurt appendage into mama's lips.
You need to dip everything in ranch or ketchup, you like to dip chips in salsa...even when it's hot, and you like dressing on your vegetables. If I forget to place sauce on your plate, you swirl your finger over the food you want sauce and whine.
Every morning when Mama goes in to get you up, she ask if you had good dreams. You always say 'yeah'. When she ask what you've dreamed of, you quickly say 'ostige-tutle, tutle-ostige'. Every...single...morning.
You love water. You play in the sink, pretending to brush your teeth and then spit, just as mama does, every morning. You love the water table Papa made for you, you love using the water hose and you can't get enough of running through the sprinkler or sliding down your slide into the pool. You also like to wade at the beach.
You love buses. Every time you see them you yell, 'Buss!'. If you hear one, you run to the window to find it. Some times it's not a bus...it's a big van or truck. To you, it's still a bus.
You are starting so much more. It seems as if each day you yell out another word. You still don't talk a ton, but it's been so fun to hear each new word you say. Though you still don't say milk, you say cheetah! Go figure, silly boy. This morning when asking for juice, Mama asked you to say 'juice please'. You immediately said it and kept saying it over and over again.
You are starting to sing and make up your own songs. It's pretty funny.
You have started to walk behind people to pat their backs, as if they need consoling. We have no idea where you learned that from, but it's hilarious.
You think the sink is where you throw things away. Mama is constantly finding trash and random toys in there.
You mastered the art of swinging on the big boy swing and as you sit there you yell for us to 'pooosh iher!'.
You love to help Mama in the garden and Papa to do anything. You still love to ride on Papa's back when he mows the lawn.

You continue to make us smile each day. You're such a joy! Today as Mama was getting you ready for your nap, you started bawling. But then you reached out and flapped Mama's lip. You thought it was so funny that you broke out laughing. That embodies you. You're a ray of sunshine. Even when you're sad, you can find something to laugh about. I love that about you. You are going to be such an amazing big brother some day!

Calling all prayer warriors

2010-05-26T22:58:00.000-04:00

Wow...

Well...

I'm pregnant! Seriously. Pregnant. Really? How the heck did that happen? Really? Am I ready for this? Can I do it? This one is going to be really, really hard. I want to be excited. I want to be utterly blissful, but really, I'm just nervous. I feel like I'm about to speak in-front of the world, there are that many butterflies in my belly.

I am excited. I want to talk to Asher about it...but I'm nervous. I called my doctor today to ask when she wanted to start seeing me. I was thinking that maybe she would want to start seeing me in a few weeks...maybe a month. Nope. She wants me in tomorrow. Wow...tomorrow? Really? I wasn't even seen until I was 12 weeks along with Selah...and really with this babe, I may be 10 days along right now.

So all of you, my wonderful friends, I need prayers and good thoughts and well wishes and love and support and whatever good vibes you can send my way. These coming days, weeks, months will be difficult. Really scary. I remember my pregnancy with Asher and it was horrible. I was scared throughout the entire 9 months. From now until I birth this child I'll be filled with joy and fright, but all I can do is hope for a happy beginning come February...though in all honesty, I'm scared out of my mind that it will end in tragedy. Let's pray that I'll hear cries and feel wiggles and warmth, in the cold month of February.

All I can say right now, is that I'm in love again. You may just be a bunch of dividing cells right now, traveling within me searching for a place to attach for your nine-months of development and growth, but I love you already and I'm grateful for this one day that I've been given to know that your mine.

Asher memory

2010-05-20T22:27:00.004-04:00

Today as you were talking to mama after a timeout about why you shouldn't bang your drumsticks against anything other than your drums, you bent down to hug her leg. When you felt the stubble, you said 'owww!'. You couldn't figure it out. You kept bending down and touching your face against mama's leg. Each time, making a face and saying 'owww.' You tried the other leg. Same feeling. 'ouch!'. You then put your face against mama's arm and seemed to think that felt alright...and seemed to think 'then why do her legs feel funny?' You finally gave up and ran outside.

Yes my sweet, dear son, your mama has scratchy legs some days. Probably more than not. Let's just ignore the stubble and pretend that her legs are beautiful, lanky, blemish and stubble free.

Am I really content?

2010-05-15T23:57:00.002-04:00

Today I felt...I feel, contentment. I can't place it, but I feel it. It came out of no-where and hit me like a mac truck. But it's here. I'm not sure for how long...but it's a welcomed feeling.

Jorai...I miss you so. You are my sweet first born. You were our first flutter of life and I miss you each and every day. You have left an imprint on my heart that will forever be felt. You are my sweet, sweet daughter and I love you.

Asher...you make me smile so hard each day that my cheeks hurt...you also make me want to pull my hair out! You are my saving grace. You are my sweet punkin' pie. You are my son. You are so much. You fill me with joy and I love you more than words can express. You are amazing.

Selah...I've never felt heartbreak as I did when I lost you. You are missed every second of the day. You are my little flower and I know that you're blooming into beautiful colors and song up in heaven, but I miss you and ache for you to be here with me, now and always. My arms ache to hold you my sweet.

I had a positive OPK today. Is this why I'm positive. The seeds were planted...now it's just waiting to see if anything germinates. Could something really happen? Could it last? Could we ever really have another living child?

The thought of becoming pregnant comes with mixed feelings. Feelings of excitement and butterflies surround me...but so does darkness. Pregnancy is easy for us....it's the keeping the wee babes alive, that's hard. I'm not hopeful. I want to be. But I'm not. So this contentment feels strange.

My darling girls, I love you. Never forget that. I would do anything to have you back down here with me. I miss you and long for your laughter. I long to see you running and playing with your brother. I dream of your kisses the feel of your hand within mine.

Asher, if we can't give you a living sibling, know that you are loved so much here on earth, just as you are from Heaven. You may not have your big and little sisters here for you on earth, but one day my sweet, we'll all be together. You will forever be loved my child. More than you'll ever know.

Contentment...what a strange, yet welcoming feeling. Can I really be content. Can I really smile, as I did tonight, and mean it? Fully? Can I miss someone so much, that contentment can be found amid the tears?

Sex talk

2010-05-13T19:16:00.003-04:00

I miss the passion I once dreamed of...and then had while trying to conceive a baby. All the sex planning and ovulation tests, kinda take the fun out of it. I mean it's still fun and all...but I sure do miss the spur of the moment passion. Now all that's on my mind, is ovulation dates and sperm life and pH levels and blah, blah, blah.

I'm just saying. It's all good in the end...but can I get a little passion thrown in for good measure without worrying that it's too soon to be introducing x sperm?

I miss the good ol' days when I was young and ignorant to all the sadness that would encircle us. Blasted sadness. You suck.

Here's to a positive ovulation test tomorrow...and well...ya know...

argh

2010-05-10T14:01:00.002-04:00

Why is it that people decide to open their mouth only to let out crap?

I've been feeling fairly good about my body image lately. I've lost nearly 15 pounds since having Selah and though I'd love to lose 5-10 more, I'm O.K. where I am. I was even able to cram myself into a pair of skinny pants on Saturday. I was so excited.

But then today as we walked into Sawyer's for another amazing breakfast, the seater said 'Just two of you today...well, I guess 2 and a half?'. Ummm...no...there's no half. Seriously? Do I really need someone to tell me that my tummy pops out a little bit? Do I need to have someone remind me of that...do I need to think people think I look pregnant? Seriously?

Why, oh why, do people continually ask me if I'm pregnant? It's like the world is against me some days. And though it's a blow to my self esteem, it's more of a blow to the fact that I've lost two children, would love to be pregnant, and know that possibility of carrying to term is unlikely. Thanks for the reminder buddy and thanks for destroying the good feeling of losing so much weight.

Not such a wonderful way to start my week.

Mamacita's

2010-05-08T22:59:00.002-04:00

I just wanted to wish all you mama's out there a very happy Mother's Day.

I know for some of you, this day is filled with painful heartaches and scorching tears. So for you, I'm sending big hugs and all the love I have, in an effort to ease, even just an ounce of your pain. You are all beautiful mama's and I know, that your babies are looking down at you today as all days, full of pride and love.

For those of you with living children, love each and every minute...even the tough ones. You are all amazing mama's. You are lovers and teachers, discipliners and boo-boo kissers. You are chefs and bottom wipers, storytellers and fort builders. You are hero's and the glue that runs your family. You are loved. I send you all hugs. May you be able to reflect on the joy of motherhood today, as well as relax and enjoy a moment of silence.

Happy Mother's Day my friends. Happy Mother's Day.

Back in the saddle

2010-05-08T17:52:00.003-04:00

I did it. I took an ovulation test today. Today it was negative. Tomorrow, positive maybe? Who knows...but as I type this, I realize that if I get pregnant this month, I would have conceived right around Mother's Day. Interesting.

When I was pregnant with Selah, I found two pregnancy tests. I was going to throw them out since I didn't need them anymore...but something stopped me. It was if something down deep, knew that I would lose my child and need those one day. That one day may just possibly be in a few weeks...and that freaks me out.

I think I'm ready for the journey. I'm scared and quite honestly, not that hopeful...but I'm ready. I even almost bought some pajamas for a new baby today at Hidden Treasures...but then I remembered that I only bought one thing when I was pregnant with Selah...a muslin blanket sleeper. Maybe it's bad juju to buy things for an unborn child...maybe it's just bad juju for me. Alas, I put down the cute little owl sleeper, even though I love owls and Asher's room is going to be full of owls soon...and I really wanted it...I left it on the rack.

Well, so here my journey begins...here's to pee in cups and hopeful thinking. Here's to making love and keeping my legs in the air. Here's to anticipation and nervousness and freak-outs and joy. Here's to taking a leap...a leap of faith..or craziness...or love. Here's to the possibility of adding to our family...here's to the hope of seeing another child breath and blink...here's to feeling their warm slimy skin...and even getting peed, puked and pooped on. Here's to giving my son the gift of a living sibling. Here's to watching them grow up together...loving and hating one another. Here's to a healthy umbilical cord and uterus and baby.

Here's to love.

Cheers.

confession of a paranoid mother.

2010-05-07T09:05:00.003-04:00

I still check on Asher all the time to make sure he's O.K.. He's nearly two...and I still worry that I'll find him cold and still in his crib.

Every night before I go to bed, I check on his at least once. I check the temperature of his face and then I touch him until he responds. I rub his forehead and then his back and I tickle his hands...I do anything to get him to respond. Some nights he's sleeping so deeply that it takes awhile for him to move and my immediate response is fear. Last night I stood over him tickling his tiny hand for awhile before it flinched. My heart leapt into my throat.

It's 9am and Asher is still sleeping. He normally wakes up between 7:30 and 8am. Though I should know that he's fine and just needs more sleep, my heart is worried. I shouldn't go in and check on him, but I did. I had to.

I know as a mom, I will always worry about the health and well-being of my child, but I wish I wasn't so worried about him while he sleeps. I wish I was still ignorant to death. I wish I wasn't crippled with fear at times. I wish I could sleep in on the very rare mornings, that he does. I wish I could fall asleep knowing that my child is safe and breathing and fine in his bed, without checking on him.

I wonder if that day will ever come.

My life, through the words of this blog.

2010-05-04T14:48:00.004-04:00

It seems lately, the comments I seem to get on this blog, especially through my facebook account...since it feeds through, have been a little telling for me. And so for those of you, who don't see me or talk to me often, I just want you to know a few things.

I've always used this blog as an outlet. Until June 3rd, 2007, it was predominately used as a place to document my walk in this world, as a venting place and silly post space. I would write a witty post every now and then, but in reality, it was a puff piece of a blog for the most part.

When I lost my first child, Jorai, this blog turned into my counseling sessions. Every day...sometimes multiple times a day, I would bleed my soul onto it's pages in an effort to heal. I'm a writer. I've always been. Some talk, some drink, some keep it all in...I write. So I penned all my hopes and fears and tears, down here.

When I got pregnant with Asher, I still used the blog as a counseling session, but there was a small bit that returned a bit to normal conversations. For the most part though, you still had my soul handed to you in nearly each post. And then we had Asher and I poured more memories and photo's into the blog rather than use it as a healing tool. My life had changed a bit. I missed Jorai...but my time was filled with a little boy and I guess my blog reflected that. But then we lost Selah and my world was shocked to it's core. More so than with Jorai. When I lost Jorai, I was gutted. But when I lost Selah, I was shattered. And this blog, returned once more to a counseling session. You still read pieces of me that are silly or I post memories of Asher, but in my life stage right now, I need more counseling time.

This blog represents my life. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve...and now, I feel as if this blog, shares my heart with the world. I never started this blog thinking anyone would read it. But back in April 2005, when I 'penned' my first post, I was addicted. And through the years, especially after my losses, more and more people have tuned in to see what I'll write next. It's flattering really. And I appreciate all the love and support I've gotten over the years.

But lately, I've realized that my posts, at times, scare people. I think they think I'm really damaged. As if I may really need help...that I may not find my way home. And I want you all to know that I'm O.K.. Really. Most days I'm happy. I love my husband. I love my son. I love my life and friends and family. But what needs to be remembered, is that my family isn't all here. There are always two little girls missing...and their memory and my broken heart, collide at times making it hard to breathe. It's in those moments that I pen my thoughts down. It's in my sad moments where I need my counselor. If that makes sense.

See, my life has returned to 'normal'. Or at least my new normal. I go about my day...most days!...with a smile and I'm laughing and I feel and receive and give out love. That's me. I'm not bitter. I'm not mad. I feel blessed most days and happiness surrounds me. But anyone who has gone through a loss like mine, will tell you that you can be going through your day happy as a clam...and then out of nowhere, grief smacks you in the face. It's those times, where I sit down and bare my heart to y'all.

I say this to you not so you stop thinking of me or praying for me or sending me comments or words of advice or counsel or love, but more so you know, that I'm O.K.. I really am. There are just times, where I have to pen it out. I have to write it down. I know it seems strange to think that my journal is on the 'world wide web'...but yeah, I'm that open. And for me. If I can help help one person feel less alone in their grief walk, then all this hell, will be worth it.

I want to thank you all for reading my heart and loving and supporting me through the years. I truly appreciate it. I hope you continue to follow me on this journey. I have loved reading your comments and feeling the love you share with me. So for all of my friends, who read my ramblings, I'm O.K.. I'm battered and bruised and there will be times where I'm busted down crying...but I'm O.K.. My life is stained with tears and torn with sorrow, but it's filled with love and joy.

dreams vs. reality

2010-05-03T14:51:00.002-04:00

I was thinking about my life yesterday. I was thinking about where I've come from and where I'm going. I really got to live a charmed life as a child. My parents were steady and nurturing and loving. I knew that I could always count on them for both love and support. I had two brothers who loved me, so much. I was doted upon being the only girl and I was so much younger than my brothers, that rather than fighting with me, they protected me. Every day, I felt loved.

I always dreamed of having a family on my own someday. I would look at my family and think, 'this is exactly what I want when I grow up.'. I would dream about marriage and loving someone all my life, with a burning heart. I would picture us growing old and rocking on the front porch of a house we raised our children in. Children...

When I first met Steve I ached. Seriously. It was scary. Anytime he came to my office, I would shake. I never experienced that before. He made me so nervous that I lost all my words. But as we became friends and then talked about taking the next step, I realized that this man was going to be my husband. I knew he would be an amazing husband and I knew he would be an amazing father.

I remember the day after we got engaged, as we were walking down a beach in Florida, I told him that we should start talking about birth control, because I knew I needed to probably get on something before we got married. I knew Steve wanted children in the future, but I never expected his words to be, 'we don't need birth control, I'm ready to start trying as soon as we get married.'. I was stunned. Excited. Not only did I get engaged the night prior...but I then realized that in 6 months, I could be carrying our first child.

That moment was just over four years ago. I never knew the ultimate joy we would be able to bask in and the all consuming sorrow we would have to endure in the coming months and years. It was only 14 months after becoming engaged, that we lost our first child. In four years we got engaged, married, pregnant with our first child, lost our first child, pregnant with our second who we got to love and raise, and then pregnant with our third child who we lost as well. In four years I've been pregnant 3 times, given birth 3 times and yet only brought 1 child home who was breathing.

What prepares you for loss? Can you be prepared? How do you come back from multiple losses? Or maybe the better question, can you fully come back from multiple losses? I'm back. I smile and enjoy life. I feel blessed to have Asher. But my hope is gone. It's obliterated. My faith that good things will happen to me is gone. Good things may fall upon me here and there, but my every day thinking, is quite honestly...'when's the shit gonna come next?'. And I hate that feeling. But where do you go? How do you reclaim a positive outlook, when the future looks so bleak...when your hope has been crushed time after time again.

And please, don't go all Christian on me. I'm trying here. Really, truly trying to get back there. But until you've been here...lost and crushed and given no answers, a bible verse is the last thing you want to hear...and quite honestly, it all sounds like the teacher in Charlie Brown right now...well, at least that's how I feel. I crave to get a relationship back with Christ...but how do you get there when all hope is gone? I know He's waiting there with open arms, wanting me to reach to him...I just can't right now. I will. I'm trying. I just nee space.

In approximately nine days, we'll be trying to conceive another child. In a way, I feel crazy. I want hope to come down and slap me in the face. I have none. I wish I was ignorant. But I'm not. Two of my three babies were ripped from my womb, lifeless. The odds are not stacked in my favor. We'll be trying to conceive a boy. Though even the doctors say that the child's sex isn't a factor. I want to be hopeful. But I'm not. I'm just not. I want to be able to enjoy my pregnancy. But I honestly think that if I get pregnant, it will be hell on earth for as long as I carry the child.

I know this all sounds horrible...but it's how I feel. I want so much to give Asher a sibling. I want to feel a child growing within me again. I want to nurse a infant and watch Asher be a big brother. But I'm truly scared and I wonder if we're making the right decision. Deep down, I know we are...but there's always that dark cloud following over me, reminding me of our pain and what our pain could be like if we lose another child.

My dreams of a marriage and family always revolved around laughter and fond memories. It's so hard to have such bittersweet memories in my life. I keep thinking of Asher and hoping that he loves his sisters from beyond the grave...and truthfully...though I hope with all my heart that he'll be able to hug and pinch and kiss and hit and yell at and listen to and be there for his little bother or sister...all I can think about is how I can keep not two...but possibly three memories alive for him.

I know I'm suppose to wear my life like a badge of honor. But sometimes the badge is too damn heavy for me. Sometimes, I wish I could raise my little white flag of surrender and be granted a few months or years of clemency. Does anyone out there have the power for that? I could use a little break over here.

sweet, funny memories.

2010-05-02T21:59:00.003-04:00

My dear, sweet boy,

Today while enjoying some nursing/snuggly time after your nap, you decided 'share' your milk with me. When I didn't bend down to nurse with you, you decided to try to 'bring' it to me...thankfully mama's milk machine still can't 'bend' or 'stretch' that way or that far!

Later in the day while playing in your new water table that Papa and Grandpa built for you, you decided to wash my legs with your paint brush. When you were finished 'cleaning me up', you ran inside to grab a towel so you could dry my legs!

Thank you for being such a loving, sweet boy who loves to share with and love on me, as well as every one else in your life. You bring me so much laughter and joy each and every day.

Happy International BabyLost Mother's day...tomorrow!

2010-05-01T07:41:00.006-04:00

To all the beautiful, mama's out there who have lost a child, Happy BabyLost Mother's Day. You are loved and supported and cared for more than you know. I wish these words could wrap around you like a hug. You are a beautiful, wonderful mama and my only wish is that you feel loved and supported every...single...day.

Happy Mother's Day.

Gotta love babyzone.

2010-04-26T21:14:00.002-04:00

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 #3...it will be our #4. Now granted I never got to bring home baby #1 and baby #3...so if I get pregnant and if I carry the baby to term and if I deliver a healthy, screaming baby...it will be our #2 baby we brought home warm and wiggly. But I could really have done without the reminder.

pissed, pissed, pissed, pissed!!!!

2010-04-26T14:09:00.002-04:00

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?

Christmas

2010-04-25T16:00:00.002-04:00

On December 19, 2009 I lost my daughter Selah. On December 21, I delivered her...so 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 joy.......joy! 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

2010-04-24T14:11:00.005-04:00

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 hard....is 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 something...it'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.