Everything Is Under Control

Christmas is...

2011-12-20T13:49:00.000-05:00

My dad has this album on vinyl. I remember every year we would play that thing on his turntable, the scratches and bumps coming through the stereo speakers along with Frank and Tony. It wasn't Christmas until that album was played.

But I wonder...

Putting up OUR tree is a nightmare of spilled ornament hooks, insane cats climbing the tree, and me yelling, "I just want ONE NORMAL PICTURE," as my two boys wrestle each other in the glow of the tree lights. Nobody listens and the music we turned-on-in-order-to-be-festive gets turned off because I can not deal with ANYMORE NOISE. Definitely not the warm and cozy holiday memories of my childhood.

Was I delusional? Have I supplanted real memories with invented ones I've seen/heard somewhere else (most likely television)? (Is supplant even the right word?)

Sure, we have our moments. We snuggle as a family and watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas...until Myles decides he NEEDS to whack his brother in the face with his dirty underwear.

Steve and I laugh at their silliness as they shovel the quarter inch of snow (that lasted one day before melting in what seems to be the never-ending rain of 2011)...until they start to use their shovels as light sabers and we have to take them away.

Christmas cards don't get sent out on time (New Year's cards, anyone?).

Fresh baked cookies come courtesy of the Pillsbury Dough Boy and last about ten seconds.

And the stockings...will be hung probably just in time for Santa to fill them on Christmas Eve.

Myles asked me why the Grinch was mean in the beginning. I have no idea. I have clearly missed a step somewhere in this whole Christmas thing.

Christmas is...different from how I remember it.

But that doesn't mean it is bad.

It's a simple rule

2011-11-03T19:05:00.000-04:00

Don't tell someone how they SHOULD feel.

Making a difference

2011-10-27T15:29:00.002-04:00

I struggle with what to say here when so many people I know are facing serious life issues. All at once, the belly-button gazing that was at one time so fun (and then became therapeutic) all seems silly now.

Cancer, mental illness, death, divorce, grief...if you're lucky only one of these will grab you by the hair and throw you down on the ground and stomp all over you at a time. And, if you're really unlucky, more than one (or the same one multiple times) will gang up and beat the living snot out of you until you have no choice but to surrender and ride it out until whatever happens...happens.

So what can I talk about that makes a bit of difference? Nothing. Today I wrote a shopping list that includes candy corn, light bulbs and paper towels. And it seems that's about all the "important" writing I will do today.

So I will instead encourage my foster dog to be sweet and snuggle...or crochet caps for cancer patients...or make memorial bracelets for deadbabymamas. Something to make me feel like I am making a difference to someone. Something to compensate for the navel gazing done here.

Later, I will eat macaroni and cheese and decorate pumpkins with my children. And hope (however unrealistically) that the bad stuff stays away from them forever.

New Blogger and me

2011-10-25T15:49:00.001-04:00

OK...so I wrote a couple posts and thought I had posted them. But I guess Blogger has moved things around and I never actually hit PUBLISH...only SAVE. oops.

I fully intend to write more. I do. I have all these things I want to say that aren't about dead babies. Like how I discovered Sally Hansen nail polish and I LOVE it. Or how local stores no longer carry Jane cosmetics and I can't buy my blush anymore (and how old it makes me feel to realize the last time I bought blush I also bought a pregnancy test). Or how the "feral" foster dog got loose the other day and I thought he'd run away...but he didn't. Or how I'm brainstorming ways to grow a little photography business but I don't have the slightest idea where or how to start. Or how my mom wants to have Thanksgiving at her house...which is great because then I don't have to clean my house...but is bad because then I won't have a reason to clean my house so I probably WON'T clean my house.

Yeah...bet you wish I hadn't figured out that PUBLISH button issue.

Today, tomorrow, and yesterday

2011-10-17T19:28:00.003-04:00

Today, my son gave himself a slight concussion in gym class. The school called and I jumped into crisis mode and picked him up and took him to the ER to be checked out. He's fine. He'll probably have a headache for a few days.

Me? I'm usually on a pretty even keel. I haven't been one to fall apart or obsessive protective instincts. I can roll with the punches for the most part.

But I told someone about my dead babies on Friday...someone who didn't know. So maybe that's why today seemed...I don't know...more.

We had to drive past the cemetery on the way to the ER. How's that for a fun train of thought to jump on?

And then I used the restroom in the ER...and washed my hands. And now they smell like that soap. That smell takes me back to May 2006.

I could lose them. I know that intellectually. But today the past collided with the present and future in a VERY sensory way that I am not so sure I'm prepared to cope with.

And now he is downstairs explaining to his little brother how he wound up in the hospital today.

This brother, that brother, all the brothers...

I need to go wash my hands now. Time to put the past back where it belongs and find my balance again.

Somebody pass the wine.

It's not you, it's me

2011-09-29T12:06:00.005-04:00

I am hard on people. Too critical. Too demanding. Too negative...no matter how hard I try not to be. This often leads me into uncomfortable situations where my expectations do not match up with someone else's perspective, opinion, or abilities. I fully recognize that I do this. And as I have gotten older I have tried very hard to stop, take a breath, and manage my expectations in order to maintain relationships. My husband will tell you that I'm still not very good at this and I am still WAY too demanding (but that's a whole OTHER story).

I know who I got it from. I know why and how I became this way.This isn't about blame...because in the end, it's like everything else...it's all about how I choose to be.

I recently left the Ashtabula County Animal Protective League, where I was a member of the Board of Directors for 2 1/2 years. I didn't leave because I didn't care about the cause or because there was a lack of work that needed doing (for the love of all that is holy, people, spay/neuter your pets!). I left because of the people...because they didn't respect or like me (and yes, I recognize how absolutely juvenile that sounds).

Oh, they appreciated what I could do FOR them...but there was no feeling for ME as a person. I didn't expect thank you's or awards or anything like that. I only expected that the relationships I had built entitled me to a certain level of respect and kindness. I was apparently very wrong. In the end, I found that those relationships weren't what I thought they were.

So I quit.

I can't tell you how much it pains me to say those two simple words. I quit. I am NOT a quitter. When the going gets rough, I work harder, longer, stronger. I don't quit.

Except this time, I quit.

With a couple months distance, however, I realize that maybe I was deluding myself the entire 2 1/2 years. I was forcing people into roles (in my messed-up brain) that they were never actually in. My participation in the group coincided with much larger events in my life and I think I was trying to find some kind of salve to heal the wounds I was nursing. And if they weren't willing to participate...well...there must be something wrong with THEM...because I am charming and smart and motivate...there couldn't possibly be something wrong with ME.

Are you surprised that I never really had a LARGE circle of friends? I've never had a "best" friend...the kind you call up and talk to for hours about anything and everything...or go out for margaritas with just because you've had a long day and need to laugh and be silly. That's not to say I don't have ANY friends. I have friends that you don't see for years and years...but when you are together it's like you never missed a minute. I have friends in the computer...friends who live all around the world and share this space filled with word and thought as if they are sitting at my kitchen table sharing a cup of coffee.

For a long time I thought I was missing out on the friendship thing. And then I had a family...and then I was swallowed up by a LOT of grief...and my circle got smaller and smaller. To be honest, I much prefer hanging out with my boys talking about Pokemon and ninjas and which is better, McDonalds or Wendys. It's not that I wouldn't enjoy friends, it's just that I don't feel like I NEED them all that much. And even if I did, I don't really have time for them. That's not entirely true...I could make time...I'm just too tired to do it. Let's face it, friends take a lot of work.

And so that's where I failed. That's why I quit. Because ultimately, it felt like too much work to evaluate my relationships and determine which ones were worth trying to salvage and which were beyond repair. It was easier to walk away completely and shrink my circle of friends, yet again, to a comfortable level.

I did, to some extent, secretly hope, "My real friends won't let me walk away." Like some kind of teenager with an irrational crush, I thought, "My real friends will knock on my door or pick up the phone and tell me they love me and ask me what we could do to fix things." And like a teenager with an irrational crush...that just didn't happen. My stupid test of those relationships failed because I wasn't realistic, then or now, about who I am and who my friends are (or should be).

I wonder if I've made a mistake. I HATE being a quitter. But then I feel such relief when someone asks me an APL-related question and I can say, "I'm sorry, I'm not involved with them anymore." And that relief reassures me that I've made a good decision for now.

I clearly need some time to decide who I am...to choose who I want to be and who I want to be friends with. Friendship can't be forced. But it must be nurtured. I suspect there was nothing there to nurture in the first place. But I will always wonder if I was just too hard on them...if I expected too much.

I suppose it doesn't really matter. The end result is the same.

Onward and upward.

The size of your next step doesn't matter as much as the direction.

All kinds of lost

2011-09-26T15:43:00.000-04:00

Monday, September 26, 2011

I FINALLY have a use for the phrase, "I lost my child." Because I did...I lost my nine-year-old son. As I stood in my living room quietly freaking out and wondering how to call the school and politely inquire as to whether my child got himself on the bus and got to school, it occurred to me that I can finally say I lost my child...and mean it. HA!

You see, last weekend I injured my foot pretty badly while photographing a wedding. So I was off my foot all last week due to the excruciating pain (not broken, just a bad sprain according to the Urgent Care doc I saw on Wednesday) and Sam rode the school bus. Ah yes, the school bus. Let me digress and tell you about the school bus...

Sam has never ridden the school bus to/from school. We live ten minutes from school and it is on my way to work. The bus ride used to be about 45 minutes. We just decided that it would be better if I drove him and picked him up.

But this year is fourth grade and he wanted to give it a try. Part of it was that some friends of his were going to be transferring from another school in the district to our school. But Sam found out the night before that they weren't, in fact, going to transfer. I was so proud of him for not having a fit...I thought this would be a breeze.

So the first day of school I sent him off on the bus. He changed his mind two or three times waiting for the bus to arrive...before settling on going through with it. I took the obligatory "boarding the bus" photo...and then I followed it (not because I'm crazy, but because, like I said, it is on the way to work). About halfway there, I realized Sam got on the bus without his lunch! oop! So I turned around and hightailed it home so I could catch him and give him his lunch before he de-bussed and went into the school.

I walked up to the side of the bus, looking in the windows for my boy. And when I spotted him, my heart broke into a thousand tiny little pieces. There he was...crying. And not just a little tear down the cheek kind of crying. We're talking snotty sobbing that almost cause vomit.

The bus driver, thinking Sam was upset because he had forgotten his lunch, allowed him off the bus before everyone else and we hugged. I gave him his lunch and he cried and we hugged. And right then I just wanted to roll back the clock to when growing up didn't have so many expectations and my little boy could just BE a little boy.

As the weeks went on, we settled into a routine and he would ride the bus on designated days. It worked. But then I hurt my foot and he had to ride the bus every day...to AND from school. I was SO proud of him when he did it all week without a single complaint. And honestly, after a week of staying home, I was ready when Monday rolled around and I could take him to school and go to work.

I showered and dressed and went downstairs calling out, "OK Sam, ready to go?"

Silence.

"Sam?"

Yep...he went off and got himself on the bus...but didn't say goodbye. But there was that moment of irrational panic. Should I call the school? What if I don't call the school and he's really been kidnapped and I won't find out until AFTER school? I could lose precious time finding my little lost boy if I didn't call and find out for sure! But that's totally insane. Of course he got on the bus and is at school! Nobody could kidnap him at our house without at least one dog barking. Don't be crazy!

I made Steve call.

And now I find it hilariously funny when I say that I lost a child.

It's still here

2011-09-26T14:59:00.002-04:00

I stopped writing here in January?!?! Wow!!! It's almost October!!! (Yeah, there are a couple posts that I didn't publish publicly...wanna make something of it?)

But the blog is still here and I feel the need to write again...for lots of reasons (all of which I'm sure I'll get to at some point).

So here we go...

One year

2011-04-11T09:34:00.000-04:00

I remember I HAD to get home. It was an instinctive need to gather up my hard-won little family, take them home, and wrap us all up in fluffy warm blankets. I needed those three other souls next to me. I needed to feel their presence so that I would not feel the absence of others so sharply.

That strategy has worked pretty well for me. Determined not to fall into the same darkness that consumed Sam's third year, I vowed to be present for Myles' third year...Sam's eighth. Despite my record-setting ability to suffer disaster at exactly the right time to ruin birthday celebrations, I committed myself to the HERE...to my boys who deserve more than tears and emptiness.

So here I am. This is better. It's not completely healed...but it IS better.

It still hurts and the temptation is still there to scream about the unfairness of it all. But there is nothing good to come of that...no point to all that wasted effort. It is much better to hold my little family close and celebrate this life...this being alive.

I don't really know what day to observe. The 8th was the day we knew for certain it was over. The 11th is the day my body was finally forced to give up its last deadbaby hostage. Neither is really cause for observance. They're both kind of morbid if you really think about it. And honestly, I have no real interest in either day.

I do miss the dream of the Little Bug...of what might have been. Surely something like this might have destroyed me if there hadn't been little miracles intertwined with the disasters. But I can see now how the miracles have saved me. And so I owe them something more...something better. And that is what I will give them.

So I take out the memory for a brief bit. Dust it off and look at it. And then put it away like a collectible on a shelf for another year. Then I turn out the light, climb in bed, wrap the blankets around the four of us, and vow to keep the true darkness from taking over ever again.

Because of what's coming

2011-04-06T10:27:00.000-04:00

I was fine. FINE. We had a little disagreement that was NORMAL. But Steve asked me if I was being a little oversensitive, "...because of the date...because of what's...you know...coming up."

My response? I hadn't even thought of that!

And it's true, I hadn't.

And then I went on a deadbabymama weekend with some of the lovely ladies I'm fortunate enough to call friends as a result of my reproductive disasters. It was a nice weekend despite the fact that I was sick throughout (and am still sick two weeks later). It was good to be in their company. But I was uncomfortable with the emotion of it all and I couldn't admit why.

And now I can't stop thinking about IT.

April and May...filled with dates of horror.

Our baby died a year ago this week.

It seems so long ago...and just yesterday...all at the same time.

This is an amazing post over at Glow in the Woods.

I just really wish I could go back to not thinking about it.

Because I should be writing a baby book

2011-02-23T17:58:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, Steve decided it was too difficult to put Myles to bed at night because he, having had a two hour nap at daycare, was still wide awake at bedtime. My oh-so-brilliant husband had the idea that it was time to end the daycare nap. He, on his own advice, asked the daycare ladies to try to keep Myles awake during the day. I remained respectfully silent on the issue, since I have generally abdicated all bedtime responsibilities under the guise of being a general distraction to my boys who keeps them up way past their bedtime no matter what tricks I may try. He puts them to bed...he can be in charge.

Ha!

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha HA HA HA HA!

It lasted three days. Three days of an inconsolable (screaming) three-year-old who was CONVINCED there were spiders and snakes in any darkened room including...you guessed it...the bedroom. Tired? Yes. Overtired to the point of hallucination? You betcha. TRY getting a three-year-old to sleep under those conditions.

Steve BEGGED daycare to reinstitute the daytime nap.

And I giggled.

Why? Goodbye, that's why.

2011-01-27T23:03:00.000-05:00

Not supposed to blog while drunk...but I can't help myself.

Why do I have this blog? I have no battles to fight anymore. And that's really what makes a good blog, isn't it? Unless you're reading for some educational value (how to sew, how to scrapbook, how to photograph, etc), it's all about watching someone battle until they are either bloodied or triumphant. Will they or won't they...x...y...z...? Rubber-necking at its finest.

I started this blog to keep in touch with family. Now they're all either dead or so depressed by what I write that they don't read anymore. I was supposed to write about the adventures of our lives with my little family of four. But it wasn't this family of four. I can never escape that. And when I write about it I always wonder what that other life would have looked like...where grandma didn't pay for a headstone for our baby Alex. We wouldn't have known Myles (the Sophie's Choice of it all is so dramatic).

Does that make sense? I don't know...I've had a really big glass of red wine.

So my choices are to (1) smile and make lemonade (in which case I may have to puke at my own positivity); or (2) continue moaning and groaning about what a real mess it all is...this life I'm living (in which case I may have to puke at my own negativity).

I don't particularly like me anymore...in case you didn't notice.

I'm just too tired to write about battles. And I don't believe in fairytale happily ever afters either. Grandma's dead...so what are the rubber neckers looking for here now?

I want to write about the $12 of fabric I bought today that will be a Valentine's photo backdrop for my friend's baby girl (not for my boys because...well...boys don't do Valentine's photos once they learn the word "no")...how I'm going to spend tomorrow cutting out paper hearts to hang (for a DIY feel)...and I really hope they turn out. I have a vision...now I just need to execute it.

But really...I know nobody who is left reading this blog really wants to read about any of that. That might have been good stuff for the original audience of mom, grandmas, and aunts...

But now...?

Now I think it's time to shut this thing down.

To quote my eight-year-old...

Catherine's out...PEACE!

Miscellaneous thoughts

2011-01-22T13:43:00.000-05:00

Yep...I'm bringing back miscellaneous thoughts as my weekly post. At the very least, it should inspire me to write SOMETHING.
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We fostered two shepherd mix puppies over the holidays. It was a lot of work, but a lot of fun too. Now that they've both gone to adoptive homes the place has returned to its normal level of crazy...which seems kinda quiet (as I type this I have to take a break to shout downstairs, "NO SMACKING!").
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Click THIS for a freaking brilliant idea!
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A friend from high school updated his Facebook status to say, "SO...How do you tell your six year old that her favorite horse is gone?" I didn't answer. That's progress, right? Incorporating my experiences while maintaining some understanding of what is appropriate to say and what is appropriate to only think? Yay me!
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This is not a food blog...nor is it a gluten free blog...but this...this is so wonderful I had to blog about it. It's a little lumpy-bumpy, but it is DELICIOUS! I can not wait to make a sandwich for lunch tomorrow!

I am committed to eating gluten free. I have discovered that regular bread causes me a LOT of intestinal upset...generally 12 hours after I eat it. And now that I've found the joy of homemade gluten free bread...I am SO happy! Now I just need to learn how to use unmixed flours (save a little money).

I have to send thanks out to my sister and her husband for gifting me the bread machine for Christmas. I LOVE it!
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I got this fancy new laptop from work. It's great...does everything I want it to do and none of the stuff it's supposed to do. Who says government work doesn't pay?
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Started writing this on Monday after the last puppy left. By Friday he was back. We took him to the shelter tonight (Saturday) so that he will get seen by more people. I'm kind of glad...I had a feeling the adoption wasn't "a good fit" when I dropped him off...but I disregarded it because I thought I was just being too picky (guess not). Hopefully he'll find the perfect home now.
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Oh...and that bread I made (also on Monday)...the dogs thought it was YUMMY. So much so that they stole the LOAF off my counter while I was walking the puppy. They left me ONE piece. It was good...very very good...so I will definitely have to make more (and guard it better).
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So this was boring. I need something interesting to write about if this blog has any hopes of surviving.
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Happy New Year

2011-01-06T17:56:00.000-05:00

Things were going along JUST fine...gallbladder had calmed down after the holiday gluttony...my house was getting back in order...had sushi with a friend...and then I found myself passed out on the bathroom floor.

Mega-migraine.

After 40+ unconscious hours, I'm up again...

...only to have Steve tell me he had a little accident this morning and messed up the steering on his car.

So far I am not impressed with 2011.

But instead of complaining I'm just going to post a cute picture of our foster puppies...aren't they cute?!?!

2011 Resolutions

2011-01-02T22:01:00.000-05:00

I'm not going to go extravagant...because I ALWAYS fail at extravagant resolutions. So I'm going to resolve to make a few simple changes this year...

~eat meals at the dinner table together as a family instead of in front of various televisions

~eat less pre-packaged and fast food and more fresh food prepared at home...try interesting recipes...stay gluten-free

~buy less

~buy local for what we truly NEED

~laugh more...cry and yell less

~say something kind and loving to my husband every day

~devote one weekend day each weekend to doing something with my family

~do something to pamper myself at least once a week (take a bubble bath, simple at-home manicure, wear lipgloss, curl my hair, etc.)

~crochet the Amsterdam Coat for myself

~read the rest of the Harry Potter series (I have been in the middle of book #4 for many years now)

Oh...I suppose I still do have a couple of extravagant resolutions I want to make...

~find sustainable funding sources for the APL

~get treatment for my gallbladder issues

~launch my photography business "for real"

~bury Little Bug

~let "it" go and find happiness by living in the moment with my amazing family

I just need to LIVE a little more...find beauty and peace in this life I have.

Another year down

2010-12-31T08:24:00.001-05:00

2010 in review...

January
I will endeavor to post something here every single day this year.

February
Today is my official birthday, but I have been celebrating all weekend already.

March
Mom's ok.

April
I try to tell myself I am other things, besides pregnant.

May
I entered a contest. (Update: I didn't win anything.)

June
I'd like to thank Jen, who sent me several books, but I don't know which one to thank.

July
I will take McDonald's dinners to the park and watch Sam and Myles play.

August
This weekend was my 20th high school reunion.

September
Blogger has added stats capabilities.

October
I find myself struggling with impatience these days.

November
Yes, I've moved the virtual furniture around here.

December
No, I'm not pregnant.

Blah! This year was a snooze.

So let's see...what can I tell you that will knock your socks off?

Nothing!

I'm as bored and boring as ever...and I LIKE IT THAT WAY!

SO THERE!

Happy New Year! Here is hoping that 2011 is kind to you.

2010-12-29T16:55:00.000-05:00

"I went on ancestry.com and found out my great great grandmother had five children and only one survived. It can be so easy to forget how lucky you are."

Dear ancestry.com:

Thanks for that. And just so you know...I will NEVER use your service.

Sincerely,
Feeling lucky two my five survived

Congratulations

2010-12-28T12:45:00.000-05:00

Please stop over to Rachel's place and wish her well on her new pregnancy.

Decorating the xmas tree

2010-12-14T09:38:00.001-05:00

Sam: Myles, do you know that you have two other brothers?

Myles: No.

Sam: Do you wanna know their names?

Myles: Yes.

Sam: Alex and Travis.

Myles: Alex and Travis.

Sam: Yep...but they died.

Myles: [blank stare]

Sometimes I don't know whether to cry or laugh.

To the future...

2010-12-13T11:14:00.001-05:00

I caught myself watching the 700 Club Interactive the other. No, don't have a heart attack, I haven't found Jesus or anything like that. They had this young couple who had lost their first born daughter shortly after birth. They talked all about God, of course, and I bristled when the woman said that God had made them a promise of more children in the future. But her hope was almost palpable. And when she said that she liked to think of the generations of people they will give birth to...generations that otherwise would not have existed...I wept. Ignoring the naivete of her certainty that she will a living child, I had my own lightbulb moment...

We are mother and father...we will hopefully be grandmother and grandfather...there is a thread here that would not have existed...if...

"They" were right...with time, there is comfort in looking forward instead of back...looking at what we HAVE instead of what we are missing.

We are fully aware that not everyone is as lucky.

So today I will be content to dream of the generations we have given birth to instead of the generations lost.

And enjoy moments like these...

Daily affirmations

2010-12-10T10:32:00.003-05:00

While sitting in a continuing legal education class yesterday, I marvelled at the egos of the other lawyers in the room. During a discussion of professionalism I had to stifle a laugh when someone actually said, "People think lawyers, as a group, are just BETTER than other people." I certainly don't think of myself that way. In fact, I often discount my knowledge to the point that I may be making my own clients disrespect me and my opinions. As Dr. Phil says...You teach people how to treat you.

Then this morning, I read this short online "bio" and I was...I guess "impressed" is the word I would use. "I work by day as a systems integrator, by night I'm a photographer, a husband and a father." It sounds so...I don't know...cool (yes, I AM still twelve years old apparently). But when I say something similar about myself, I feel...embarrassed...shy...apologetic. As if I'm not worth the word "photographer." As if my dreams are somehow less than someone else's.

I know when this happened to me. I can pinpoint the day...the exact moment...when I became so uncertain of myself and everything I wanted out of this life. I let my contemplations about what meanings may/not be applied to certain (random) acts interfere with LIVING my life.

The other day, Sam said to me, "Mom, you know I'm your whole reason for living," and I felt as though I'd been physically punched. I do live for my family and I find great joy in them. But I am not happy living for my family to the exclusion of just about everything else. I've lost myself.

I have to thank my friend, Misti, too. For posting a link on her blog to this. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea. But I'll take inspiration wherever I can find it. I obviously need it if I'm ever going to find HER again. I know she's in here somewhere.

Still here

2010-12-08T11:04:00.001-05:00

No, I'm not pregnant.
No, I'm not suicidal.
No, I'm not happy or sad or...anything really.

I'm just not sure what to do with this space. I feel anchored by what I've written here. Weighed down. Stuck. I get the urge to rearrange things in an attempt to shake this feeling. I didn't want to talk about it or be all dramatic with goodbye, so I just shut things down...which I should've realized would result in having to field multiple inquiries from friends and family...and thus, forcing me to talk about it.

Then this morning I posted a facebook status update that said, "Would give just about anything to be able to stay in bed and sleep more this morning." A friend with a three week old newborn responded, "I would dream of this if I could sleep long enough to dream!" I deleted her comment and came back here.

So now I guess I need to figure out what to say. I don't want to be all about the sadness that's creeping in around the edges and preventing me from putting up the Christmas tree. I don't want to be all about the disappointment that Things Remembered no longer offers Make-A-Wish ornaments like the ones I got for the first four boys...or how it's actually kind of fitting if I think about it. I don't want every damn thing to be tainted.

I guess it's not the blog after all. It's my past I want to break free from. But who doesn't, right?

So I better think of something to say...

Work is ridiculous. On Monday I had to walk through snow drifts to get into my office building...because the new handicap accessible ramp was closed because it didn't yet have a handrail installed. Yesterday I was asked, "Are you still uncertain in this matter or has it been clarified?" Today I had to scavenge in empty offices for a power strip for my work computer.

Christmas plans are slowly coming together. Steve forgot to move the boys' Christmas gifts from the back of the van Sunday evening and almost ruined Christmas entirely for the kids. We are hosting a holiday party for the APL for which we are terribly unprepared. I still need to get gifts for my side of the family and have no idea if I should buy something for my sister-in-law who hates me. I really want Christmas cookies, but they aren't gluten free and I don't want to bake.

OK...let's try to spin this...

Work brings a new learning experience every day. I have learned to be more resourceful and less dependent on the convenience of technology. It's almost...nostalgic...which is just heartwarming.

Christmas is on it's way and I am looking forward to spending more time with my family and friends. I'm wishing for peace and comfort for everyone who needs it this holiday season. And I'm maintaining healthy eating habits despite the temptations of holiday baked goods.

There.

But you know, that really just makes me wonder about all those wonderfully happy and warm blogs I read. What are they really hiding? lol!

-------------------------------

Myles: "Why you hang those lights up there?"
Me: "For Christmas."
Myles: "You make the house pretty!"

-------------------------------

Me: "I'm trusting you to spend your Secret Santa Shoppe money..."
Sam: "Wisely...I KNOW...I WILL."

-------------------------------

What do I get my husband for Christmas this year that will make up for ruining Christmas for pretty much forever? He says he doesn't want anything...and I want to smack him because there has got to be something...some shiny new THING that will distract from who is not here this year...ANYTHING.

-------------------------------

So yeah...still here and still looking for something to say.

-------------------------------

Inside the system

2010-11-24T10:46:00.000-05:00

I have to admit that during law school, my least favorite classes were those that had anything to do with money. I am not business-minded (obviously) and have a strong aversion to all things corporate. So this bankruptcy business is...in a word...awful. But having filed the initial paperwork and navigated my way through the local rules of procedure, I'm thinking, after all this, that I might change my career path to become a pro bono bankruptcy attorney...or some kind of lobbyist for bankruptcy reform...in my spare time. The fact is, there is NO way your average Joe could navigate this nightmare of forms and numbers and procedures and blah blah blah. And really...do we need to overburden people in financial trouble with the added costs of attorneys and insane filing fees? It makes no sense unless you adopt a punitive approach to bankruptcy theory (and I will respectfully leave out my political diatribe here; save for to say that I think that, at some level, punishment is exactly what is going on in our bankruptcy system).

I'm sure there are a lot of people who think, "Hey, you did this to yourself...deal with it." And there is some part of that that is accurate. I fully accept my part in this and the bad decisions I made to get myself here. But I don't really need, in addition to all the other crap I'm dealing with, to be mentally, emotionally and financially flogged by a system that is supposed to help. I will gladly do what I need to do...but it doesn't need to be set up to be so difficult that it is virtually impossible.

They say change comes from within.

I wonder what kind of change I can create in this...

New shoes

2010-11-23T09:07:00.000-05:00

I bought new shoes. New shoes that are totally NOT my style. High heeled fake croc black patent leather open toe shoes. And I mean HIGH heels. I got them at Payless so they didn't cost a fortune...and I almost had fun buying them and wearing them for the first time.

I know what you're thinking, "Why wouldn't you have fun buying new shoes?" Well see, the last pair of shoes I bought was the pair of black sandals I bought back in April. My dead baby sandals.

Yes, even shoes.

First time mommy question # 86730662

2010-11-18T16:21:00.000-05:00

Gah! Every time I've got this mom thing figured out that first kid of mine throws me for another loop!

Sam has started making this noise. I don't really know how to describe it. It's a cross between a grunt and a throat clearing and a singing note. It almost reminds me of the old-person noise I make when I bend down to tie my shoes. Except he makes it all the time and it.is.driving.me.crazy! Watching TV. Reading. Sitting at the table. Walking from one room to another. ALL THE TIME!

Is it a phase? Is it some weird verbal tic because I've finally screwed him up that bad? I know it's not right to be critical of the weirdness your child presents...but he stops it if I tell him to stop it. So it seems he has control over it. I don't get it. WHY is he doing this? And how do I get him to stop it for good?

I don't really expect an "answer" here. Just needed to give this one a voice, I guess.

Not ok

2010-11-05T17:33:00.000-04:00

Yes, I've moved the virtual furniture around here. It's a lot easier than moving actual furniture, so that's probably why I find it so fun to do.

So remember the girl who lost a baby and thought the world would stop turning? Remember how she went on and lost another baby almost a year to the day of the first one...had another screaming baby boy who is absolutely one of the most amazing people she knows...and then lost a third baby? Remember how she moved onward and upward and distracted herself with all sorts of things so that she made everyone around her feel like she was "ok?"

Yeah...well...I'm here to tell you that she's been lying to you since April. Because, come on people, it's NOT OK! I'm NOT OK! For shit's sake...the fact that anyone believed that is absolutely utterly amazing and makes me question whether anyone who knows me AT ALL has a freaking brain. (OK...that's a little harsh...but really? I'm ok? You bought that?)

So the fact of the matter is, when you deliver two dead babies and have to have an "abortion" to deliver the third dead baby...well...it fucks you up. Big time.

My particular breakdown has dropped a big fat turd in the middle of our finances. The only bills I've paid since April have been the mortgage (it's always late)...the daycare bill (we are $1300 behind for the month of April where I just didn't pay them and blew that money on who-knows-what)...the electric, water, internet, tv and phone bills (only when they threaten to shut off service). The bill collectors call multiple times a day. Let me tell you a little secret...bill collectors don't seem to understand that I would gladly pay them if only I had the money. But I don't. And I'm not inclined to find it for them anywhere. Maybe that's irresponsible. Maybe that's childish and I should grow the hell up. But...meh...

We will be filing bankruptcy...and I don't care. I don't care about any of it. In fact, a part of me hopes they foreclose on this damn house so I can have a mental breakdown and just give up on caring about anything at all.

I think this particular breakdown began the day the bill from Cleveland Clinic arrived...for my abortion. Yep. Given the tears that erupt when I merely type that sentence, I'm pretty certain that was the trigger. I couldn't look in the mail anymore. Bills went unopened into a basket on my desk in the dining room (I took the laptop up to my bedroom so I wouldn't have to SIT at the desk at all...more on that in a minute). In fact, there were only a few occasions when I looked through the mail all summer. Much to my surprise, there were a couple lovely notes and a gift in there from some of my blogosphere friends (thank you for those). But even that didn't convince me that I needed to be connected with this process anymore. And so the mail piled up...literally...so you could no longer see the basket they were tossed in/on...to a point where the mail was falling off my desk onto the floor whenever someone would walk by. I didn't even clean it before I had an APL volunteer work session at my house in October. I just didn't care who saw it. Still don't really.

But that's not all.

When I was pregnant at the beginning of this year, I retreated to my bedroom as much as possible...and I have stayed there since. Sure, I go out and do stuff. I go to work. I volunteer. I shop every once in a while (generally when we are faced with spoonfuls of ketchup for supper). But...I eat in my bedroom...watch tv in my bedroom...hide in my bedroom. Christmas is coming. The time of year when I found out I was pregnant and had all kinds of silly dreams. Fuck Christmas. Another reason to hate the hap-hap-happiest time of the year. (Don't you just hear choirs of angels singing here?)

Is this what giving up feels like? You CAN'T be anything you want to be? You CAN'T have it all? You just deal...however you can. And if that means hiding in your bedroom for months and bringing financial embarassment to your family...then so be it.

And before someone jumps in with the depression counseling or medication talk...don't. OK? I'm not in the mood for loving advice OR a swift kick in the rear. I'm just not in the mood to listen to anyone tell me what I should do. Listening to people is not high on my list when my heart AND my head have been shredded into millions of tiny pieces. I don't give a rat's ass what any other person on the face of this planet has to say about it anymore. I just don't. And with that, I turn off comments to this post to save us all from the asshole who will inevitably post all kinds of insightful advice and force me to delete this whole fucking blog with the press of a button.

I'm blogging today from the dining room...where I've cleaned off my desk and reset my laptop so I can type this very whiney post that may force me to delete this blog anyway. It's a start I guess.

Yeah...so in short...not ok for a while...getting a little better lately but imagine Christmas will really suck...pretty new blog template.

So who knows anything about filing for bankruptcy? Oh yeah...I need comments on if I want an answer. OK...I'll leave comments on. But if ONE SINGLE person crosses my imaginary line in the sand on this one, I will delete delete delete. You have been warned.

Who's the boss?

2010-10-26T12:37:00.000-04:00

I am on a Board of Directors. So I am, by virtue of holding that position, a boss of sorts (a fact that I find enormously funny since I can't even get my own sh!t together, let alone be in any way in charge of an organization). I am a volunteer for that same organization and do a lot of administrative work that should, in a perfect world, be done by a paid employee. Our micro-sized company can't afford a paid employee, so I do it. And I really don't mind doing the work...but it is an odd place to be.

I find that I take criticism very personally because, after all, I am donating my time. And it seems that lately there is PLENTY of criticism to go around. I'm not doing enough. I'm doing a lot as far as I can tell...but it's not enough. I made a snarky comment that paid staff weren't doing enough (a fact that most everyone involved in the organization will agree with on any normal day)...and I got a snarky comment from the manager in return ("This is what I get paid for. I'm very busy"). SO...it seems that I am supposed to accept criticism...work harder...and keep her mouth shut.

The boss side of me wants to cut a path of destruction and leave nobody standing. Criticism? I've got it if you REALLY want to hear it. In fact, a lot of what our employees get away with would be considered fireable offenses anywhere else. So maybe we should really take a good hard look at policies and procedures and whip the place into shape. But I know that would make it VERY unpleasant for everyone involved.

And then, the volunteer side of me alternates between wanting to (1)fight the good fight and play cheerleader and (2)tuck my tail and run away. Constantly working and working and working behind the scenes without any acknowledgment, only to be told it's not good enough...well...I'll be honest...it's taking a toll. I can not even begin to count the number of hours I have devoted to business operations...a job that I do not get paid for. Every day I do something or other for the organization. Every.Single.Day. And all I seem to hear is criticism. I know I'm not being overly sensitive because I heard the same complaints from volunteers/Board members who have since resolved the conflict for themselves by leaving the organization entirely.

I don't consider myself to be the kind of "me" person that needs constant acknowledgment or positive reinforcement. So I guess I'm searching for inspiration. How to continue to do what I'm doing and feeling good about it...how to block out the stream of negativity that keeps coming at me...how to maintain a professional viewpoint and keep the snark to a minimum when I really just feel like screaming profanities. How do you motivate people to do better when you don't feel it yourself? How do you motivate paid staff who should already be motivated AND motivate volunteers who are feeling under-appreciated? I feel like I've tried it all. Picnics...thank you notes...freebies...it doesn't seem to be working. It just seems to result in a "more, more, more" attitude. And how do you motivate your fellow Board members who seem to have time for every other activity under the sun except the activities relevant to THIS organization? How do you move an organization forward that doesn't want to be moved? that is happy with the status quo? that will not plan ahead and will eventually result in the dissolution of the organization altogether?

I had no idea this would be such a complicated gig when I agreed to join the Board. But now I'm here and I feel a responsibility to do something with it. I'm just not sure how to get to success from here.

The rhythm is gonna getcha

2010-10-25T02:02:00.001-04:00

I'm used to the staccato rhythm of grief and sadness. The short phrases that my voice chokes out in a cadence of punches...blows to the heart. It reflects itself in my writing. Twitter-sized thoughts...condensed to 140 characters or less. Spit it out and move away.

So I must admit I am enjoying this not-new-but-not-quite-familiar feeling that has me threading moments together into something strong but soft and beautiful. There is a continuity that lets us fight about who left the lid off the jar of peanut butter (and laughing about it later). There are long and complicated thoughts that run together but aren't so harsh that they need to be purged from the soul via the keyboard. In fact, they are soothing in a way as they wrap themselves around the soul and remind me that this can be life too.

I will never apologize for the level of great joy my two living children bring to me. Watching them play and laugh together is the best kind of soothing balm for my battered heart. And once again there is no point to get to...no life or death decisions to make...no wondering if tomorrow will bring disaster. We just spend the time along this thread without wondering if we will lose our footing and fall off the high-wire.

My family, my work, my volunteer work...they are all so amazing. Yes, there are things about each that drive me batshit crazy at times. But then I remember how wonderful this is...this NORMALCY...and I work my way around the minor irritation(s).

I don't mind admitting that it's just so lovely to feel the rhythm of happiness again. Don't get me wrong...sometimes that harsh drumbeat of grief bursts through and temporarily ruins the sweet melody of peace (thank you, Fisher Price), BUT it isn't all I hear anymore.

I think I'm gonna make it. I don't know how or why. But that's fine. I don't need to know how or why.

How nice of Fisher Price

2010-10-22T13:06:00.001-04:00

Your baby is finally here! The Fisher-Price® Family extends our congratulations and warmest wishes to your new—or growing—family. We hope the prenatal e-mails we sent over the last nine months or so were interesting and informative as your pregnancy progressed. And now, as you start the exciting adventure of life with your new baby boy or girl, we'd like to send you Fisher-Price® Family PlayTIMES™.

Tell us why you're unsubscribing...

"My baby died back in April. I tried unsubscribing before...you obviously didn't get the message."

It's funny though...I didn't cry this time.
I laughed.
Don't know what that says about me.

The impatience of grief

2010-10-10T21:57:00.000-04:00

I find myself struggling with impatience these days. My children won't listen. My friends that do volunteer work have their own agendas and aren't available to do the projects I think are important. My husband, bless his heart, is a wonderful husband...but he can't read my mind (like I think he should).

And so I try to stay busy. Project after project after project. No time to sit and listen to my third-grader read aloud for 15 minutes a day. No time to do housework. No time to cook or bake. No time to watch tv. No time to think. Thinking is forbidden. Thinking takes me to that place where the might-have-beens grab hold of me and shake me until I want to vomit.

And so I organize projects for "the greater good." Nothing worth anything to me or my family. As if providing the benefit to someone/something else will somehow buy me favor somewhere. As if I can still make a bargain.

For what? I honestly don't know. I'm too tired, too impatient, too angry.

I was having people to the house today and was in a hurry to clean. I squeezed the dead baby brick onto a shelf where it is just stored...not displayed...not cherished. Shoved on a shelf like a tattered paperback you don't care much about. The thing is...I do care. I want to hurl the f***ing thing through the window. I hate it. It's just another reminder and I hate it.

My glider rocking chair broke. I guess since I won't need it to rock a brick to sleep that that is just perfect timing.

And no amount of fundraising will fix any of it. Nothing fixes it. Nothing makes it better. Not crying. Not stuffing 600 trick or treat bags. Not schmoozing with sponsors.

But at least someone benefits from my impatience.

Help my kid help the animals

2010-09-30T21:28:00.000-04:00

The Boo Wow Walk is a fundraiser for the Animal Protective League. This year, we are offering a special prize for the top pledge-getter in the 17 and under age category. Sam REALLY wants to win this special prize. If you would like to help him (all money is donated to the APL), please click on the chip-in at the bottom of this page. Please. And thank you!

What it means to be grown up

2010-09-28T23:15:00.012-04:00

When asked what I've done during the last eight years or so, here was my response...

Well...I'll be honest...it's been a pretty rough ride. Started my job when Sam was 15 months and am still there. Planted a garden. Lost Alex and Travis. Planted more garden. Had Myles. Joined the Board of Directors of the local Animal Protective League (that's where I spend my "spare time"). Lost another baby. Let all the gardens go to crap. Still in the same house. Behind on mortgage payments and other accumulated debt. Haven't lost any weight. Haven't done anything earth-shattering. I have started to play with the camera again for the first time since college. Basically...the world keeps turning and I just keep hanging on for dear life. One positive thing to come out of the past few years is my relationship with Steve. We've been through it all together and have come out of it more mature and...I don't know...together.

I think I need to shake some things up. I sound...sad. And I guess I am. Can you blame me?

Speaking of sad...I was updating my list of grief resources when (about a third of the way in) I thought, "Whoa...how did this happen? How did this become my life?" Of course, I know HOW. As life goes...it just happened. But it truly makes me long for the days when I thought I had the world by the tail and I foolishly believed I could do or be anything I wanted.

I suppose it's the time of year for poking at old scars and seeing if they still hurt.

They do.

TLC

2010-09-28T00:00:00.000-04:00

Today was the day that might have been something special. Today you might have been four years old.

I can't even imagine it anymore.

But I still miss you, my little half-baked baby boy. So so much.

My screwed up psyche

2010-09-21T21:30:00.003-04:00

So my mom asked me the other day if I had changed my mind about getting pregnant again. I told her my mind changes every day. What I didn't tell her is that I have actively avoided even the possibility of getting pregnant recently because I don't want another 20 week loss to ruin Christmas.

Yeah.

So how ya been internet?

I've stopped writing here. Did ya notice?

Instead, I wrote a grant proposal.

I took my fancy camera and did a newborn photo shoot and a high school senior photo shoot. I have another family scheduled to do family Christmas card pictures.

I KNOW, right?!?! It's really amazing what you can accomplish when you're completely screwed up in the head and trying not to obsess about your feminine failures.

But don't be fooled. I don't have it all together. Not, by a long-shot. More on that later...maybe.

Well hello there

2010-09-03T21:10:00.002-04:00

Blogger has added stats capabilities. It's a little disconcerting to see all these numbers from all over the world and not know who they represent. If you drop by here sometime, say HI. I don't bite...much.

Unfinished business

2010-08-30T23:55:00.001-04:00

Today was my due date. Not that it means anything, because Little Bug would have definitely been born before now. But it still seems important to note.

We spent the day at the zoo celebrating the last day of summer vacation before Sam starts back to school tomorrow. It was fun even though I was tense and tired through a lot of it. The smiles compensated for the date on the calendar.

Sam doesn't want to go back to school...and I don't blame him.

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end.

I think I will call the cemetery this week and have them bury the brick filled with unfinished baby ashes.

Goodbye Daisy Mae

2010-08-29T04:00:00.010-04:00

We can't remember exactly when you came from the APL to live with us...two...or three...years ago. I guess it doesn't really matter. The only thing that does matter is that it seems like we always loved you. We will miss you, sweet girl.

If wishes were happy healthy babies...

2010-08-27T09:40:00.000-04:00

All my love to Julie.

I do not believe...and yet it still hurts

2010-08-18T15:46:00.005-04:00

There is this little pang every time someone says God has blessed them. Anger. Jealousy. Pity. Sadness. Dismay. Inadequacy. Failure. All of this wound up in a split second that makes me catch my breath and ponder each relationship...each person...their value in my life if they could think this thing that discounts me so easily.

I don't know what to do with it. I don't want to feel less-than for the rest of my life. I don't want to question my friendships because my friends simply subscribe to a different set of beliefs than me. I want to be better than that. But I'm just not sure it's ever going to get "better." I feel like I'm on a crash course...and I've recently learned that I'm not alone.

I was forwarded a version of this email and it made me feel all those things again. Never mind the inaccuracies lies perpetuated therein (I'm a stickler for the truth)...the pure HATRED that spewed out at me from my computer screen literally made me sick to my stomach. If this is what God and patriotism produce, then I want no part of it, thank you very much.

But where can any of us go when any single person holds the belief that their God, above all else, is the "right" God? There is no room for anything other than conflict if the heart of any belief is that you are somehow blessed and the other guy is somehow cursed or doomed to hell. Is there?

I know how it makes me feel. I just don't know how to let go of those feelings. And if I can't figure it out for myself, I'm not sure how I can convince anyone else to try to figure it out for themselves.

Keeping busy

2010-08-17T09:18:00.004-04:00

I think I must sound like a pretty miserable person here on this blog. And I'm not...honest. It's just that there is nobody else who I feel I can talk to about how Alex should be starting kindergarten right about now...how time has flown and dragged at a snail's pace all at the same time. Or how I should be having a baby right about now...a baby I wasn't sure I wanted but would give anything to hold now. I can't say those things to anyone in person because I KNOW the look I would get in return. Horror mixed with pity and a little bit of impatience. So I spew it here and I sound like a miserable person.

So let me tell you a little bit about something non-miserable. Something fun.

Every year my Animal Protective League (and I say "my" because I'm on the Board of Directors and feel a weird sense of belonging with all the animal-loving-nut-jobs there) holds a Halloween Boo Wow Walk. It's a two-mile walk across the manicured terrain of a golf course (green fields and autumn woods), during which human and canine trick-or-treaters collect treats in their bags. In a county that holds quite a bit of disdain for pets, often disposing of them like fast-food wrappers on the side of the highway, this is a major project. Finding sponsors, organizing event details, hoping for good weather, convincing people to care...it's a LOT of work. So if I'm not around to feel miserable and whine about what might have been, this is why. This has become my project. And it makes me happy. So I'll see ya when I see ya.

If you want to see some images from last year, you can view our slideshow here (the first 2/3 of the images were shot by yours truly the last 1/3 were shot by another amazing photographer who also volunteers with the APL).

Speaking of photography...I'm taking the first tentative baby steps toward "doing something" with my photography. I've been shooting at the APL for over a year now. I've learned a LOT about myself and my camera...what works and what doesn't. I've also worked on my self-confidence a little. I remember a year ago at my cousin's wedding when I was too embarassed to really play with my camera and try to get good shots. So what I ended up with was...well...embarassing. But after reading and studying all kinds of online courses, etc., I feel ready to try to work with people. So...in case you missed it there at the bottom of my page...my very first photography website. It's got ads and such because it's free and I'm not going to invest money into an ad-free version unless I can actually pay for it (though I did reserve a domain name for $10 in the hopes that it will continue to motivate me...as you know, I hate wasting money). So we'll see. I have a potential newborn shoot coming up here in a few days (baby just got home yesterday)...so keep your fingers crossed.

Thank you Michelle!

2010-08-06T19:14:00.006-04:00

Inside this lovely puzzle box was this lovely necklace (which I have hung on my rearview mirror)...

You are too kind. Thank you!

I cried

2010-08-04T14:42:00.002-04:00

It was over on Sunday, April 11th. Nearly two weeks later...it was a Friday...I cried. No, I sobbed. I picked an argument with my husband, he left the room, and I laid down on the bed and my body shook with the sobbing. And I haven't cried since.

Until today.

I don't know why today. But today is apparently the day.

A friend came for a visit a couple weeks ago and suggested maybe I am depressed because I'm like that commercial ("Do you find you have to wind yourself up just to get out of bed?"). And I said no as I mentally ticked it off...May...June...July...August. It's been four months. I was feeling better by four months with Alex.

Alex.

Here come the tears.

Alex.

It seems a million years ago I held sweet baby Alex. I say his name and it seems so un-freaking-believable...like it happened to someone else and was just some horrible story I heard once. But my arms still ache to hold him. I can't deny it. I miss my baby boy.

But I can't talk about it either. I'm supposed to have had my cry and moved on by now. If someone were to walk into my office right this moment, what would I tell them is wrong? Why am I crying?

I don't even know anymore.

Am I depressed? Maybe. Or maybe today is just a day for crying.

20 years

2010-08-01T00:56:00.002-04:00

This weekend was my 20th high school reunion.

I did not attend.

Reunions are all about recounting your journey...sharing what has happened in your separate lives while you've been apart. And for the life of me, I just couldn't imagine how I would tell my story. There were several particularly awful nightmares as a result of even trying to come up with some acceptable way of sharing. Of course, there was the option of NOT sharing at all...but that seemed equally awful as it denied my own truths. Not to mention that I blabbed all over Facebook about how I probably wouldn't be at the reunion because I was planning to have a newborn baby by now. Yeah. That's a little difficult to live down in front of people you haven't seen in twenty years.

No, I didn't feel like struggling to find a balance that would allow me to be there. Not yet. There are still some things that are a little too fresh.

So I hid.

Maybe I'll sort it all out by my 30th reunion.

Crazy bird

2010-07-22T15:23:00.006-04:00

I just read this post over at Glow in the Woods and the questions at the end inspired me to write. I haven't felt like it for a while, so I'm going to go with it.

What does your crazy look like? Does it scare you? Is it an ally, giving you permission to act outside the box? What do you do with other people who think you are crazy? What elements of grieving have made you feel most isolated and separate? What elements have made you feel the most normal, human, and sane?

We knew what happened 2 times. We didn't know why. And so I screamed at birds. And then we didn't even know what happened the third time. And so I screamed at birds.

I used to think crows were a lucky symbol for me. I swear one followed me around Columbus, Ohio the third time I took the bar exam...and finally passed.

I used to get excited about birds. Bluebirds, goldfinches, redwing blackbirds...

And now I f---ing hate birds.

Just a LITTLE bit crazy?

Could have been...

2010-07-21T17:40:00.002-04:00

Then I read that a friend's daughter has lost her baby girl at 40 weeks.

And I can't help but think...

Could have been...

2010-07-21T14:00:00.001-04:00

The wife of a friend from high school safely delivered their second child this week.

And I can't help but thinking...

Miscellaneous thoughts

2010-07-16T09:32:00.000-04:00

-----------------------------------------
So what WAS that horrible self-indulgent whine-fest about the other day?!?! I still have moments, in case you couldn't tell.
-----------------------------------------
I hurt by shoulder/back/neck somehow, though I don't recall how, and took some percocet to help (after three days of no sleep...I NEEDED to do something). Well, let me tell you, that was the WORST sensory memory EVER and I will NEVER do it again. I will be leaving the heavy-duty drugs to the hospital from this point forward...so as not to mess my head up too much.
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I want to photograph a wedding but am having a hard time asking people if I can crash their special day in order to build my portfolio. I asked an acquaintence/friend if I could photographer her newborn and felt like a complete freak doing so. I can't wait until things turn around and people ask ME (here's hoping, anyway).
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I was HAPPY that the scale was under 220. There is something very wrong with that.
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I wanted to sew instead of taking my son to a birthday party. But I sucked it up and it was a nice time for everyone.
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We have a new foster dog that has clearly been beaten before. He doesn't understand that things are different now. He is so very sad and it breaks my heart. I really want five minutes alone with the ass that did this to him.
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Blah. Committee work. Need I say more?
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The eight-year-old has turned into a tattletale whiner and the two-year-old has turned into a screamer. Remind me that it's just a phase please.
-----------------------------------------
I finally went through the big pile of papers my son brought home on the last day of second grade. In it I found a couple writing assignments that literally made me cry.

"Dear Mom, I never really liked my life. Did you know that I want to run away sometimes?"

Yeah. Parent-of-the-year here.
-----------------------------------------
The MOM Project has "slowed down" due to lack of funds and lack of volunteers. But I still have beads and I'm still making bracelets (especially for loss moms). So if you hear of someone who "needs" a bracelet, please just let me know.
-----------------------------------------

And yet...

2010-07-13T13:36:00.003-04:00

I was reading this post over at Glow in the Woods today. The author asked, "How have subsequent changes in your life been colored by your loss? How has your grief changed to accommodate new circumstances?"

My answer? I feel like I'm in a snowglobe that's all shaken up. Things are slowly settling back into new places...some are CLOSE to where they used to be...but just not quite in the RIGHT spot. I can rearrange things, of course, but it's all just so overwhelming that I'd rather sit and look around and think, "Well...this sucks." And yet, I don't WANT to be THAT person.

People tell me they admire me. People tell me I'm "so strong," and I laugh at the absurdity of it all...because I feel anything BUT admirable or strong. I feel. I think. I fear. I hope. I live. And yet something is just not quite right. I try too hard to force things because I want to be...I don't know...happy...satisfied...settled...I don't know how to describe it. I want...something...I'm not sure what it is...but I'm afraid it's something I will never have. Does that make ANY sense?

Please help

2010-07-12T21:06:00.002-04:00

You know I love kids and dogs and happy families. Please help my friend Erica's son afford the assistance dog and car seat he needs. Make a small donation...and send this chip-in to everyone you know. I just BET we can raise the whole amount needed.

Thanks so much!

2010-07-08T09:28:00.003-04:00

Three months ago.
Would have been 32 weeks.
You would be arriving (early)
...this month.
It was a good dream at the time.

Instead, your burned little body sits on the fireplace
in a brick I long to smash through a window.
No one would know why.
I don't think they remember.
I barely remember.

All that's left of you
...the only proof you were here at all.
Life is so normal
I must be over it.
I'm trying.
Hiding.
Pretending.
Mostly.
But not today.
Not this month...

...when you were supposed to arrive.

Busy busy busy

2010-07-06T13:00:00.004-04:00

I've been trying to keep myself busy lately. I've picked up my camera and am starting to "put myself out there" to friends and family. Hopefully I'll be able to build a little side business eventually. Click here to see some of my recent photo work for a friend (and feel free to order something from her...I personally love her pieces).

I've lined up a newborn photo session when my friend's baby is born in August/September. Of course, it took me a beat to get myself together when she told me Baby Kennedy's nursery theme is bugs. But it was just a beat...not hours, days, or weeks, like it might have been in the past. I think I'm just excited to flex my photo muscles and see what I can come up with. Mom wants a four-generation picture with baby, mom, grandma, and great-grandma. I've got all sorts of ideas swirling around in my head so I hope I can translate at least some of them to actual images.

Of course, summertime is all about sunshine and popsicles and bike-riding and campfires. So...that's what we've been doing. Truth be told, we're busier now than during school...and we're not even GOING anywhere. Independence Day weekend brought a picnic McDonald's supper at the playground park (followed by running and sliding and swinging and laughing), a puppy transport, a picnic supper at fireworks, sleeping late, new photo editing skills practice, a campfire with roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, drinking wine, another dog transport/home visit, volunteer time at the APL, a new foster dog, playing Wii and air conditioned sleeping.

Happy Independence Day!

2010-07-04T22:22:00.002-04:00

In the holiday spirit

2010-07-02T22:30:00.002-04:00

I will take McDonald's dinners to the park and watch Sam and Myles play. I will transport puppies to a new life, meet a friend for outlet mall shopping, take our kids for a little train ride, watch fireworks and drink wine. I will help with yardwork, pitch a tent in the backyard, make a campfire and roast hot dogs and marshmallows. I will spend Monday at home reading and sewing and generally lazing around.

I will NOT think about what July might have brought.

Except maybe when I walk past that brick on the top of my fireplace in the living room. The one that holds what might have been.

But for the most part, I will be happy.

I hope.

5 years!

2010-06-30T16:41:00.002-04:00

Click here to make a $5 donation to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Infant Bereavement Photography.

Dead baby lesson #673

2010-06-28T08:41:00.001-04:00

I suck at writing thank you notes. I mean...REALLY suck at it. It's nearly impossible for me to say thank you for all the kindnesses shown to us (again and again and again)...particularly in notecard form. If they really wanted to give you something helpful in the hospital when your baby dies, they should give fill-in-the-blank form thank you cards. It would save a lot of stress.

It just gets better and better

2010-06-25T19:44:00.003-04:00

Terrible twos and threes.

Fucking fours and fives.

Sucky sixes and sevens.

What do we call the eights?

There has to be SOME sort of name for the joy that is the eight year old.

I wonder

2010-06-23T16:54:00.002-04:00

From An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination...

"When I've thought of Claudelle since Pudding's death, it's been with sympathy: she must feel terrible. I've never wandered further down that road, wondered whether she feels cupable, whether she worries that she's the villain in our version of the story. I've never wondered whether it's terrible that we simply diappeared--because we did disappear, soon enough after that day we erased ourselves from that part of the world as completely as we could--or a relief. Maybe it's a relief. Maybe every day we stayed gone was a relief to her. Or maybe it was just one of those sad things that happens when you're in the mostly joyful business of childbirth, and she never thinks of us at all."

I wonder if she thinks of us...the doctor who was so dismissive when I was sick during my pregnancy with Alex. The doctor who did no testing to see if Baby Alex was doing ok. The doctor who was so sure gestational diabetes had something to do with his death. The doctor who lied to me about his cause of death (over the phone)and would've let me believe that lie forever had I not asked for a copy of the autopsy report.

I wonder if we ever cross her mind at all.

And if we do...I wonder what that's like for her.

I hope she knows we hate her...even if we never said it directly to her.

Didn't see that one coming

2010-06-23T13:39:00.001-04:00

So today was an interesting one. Sam kept saying he didn't want to go to daycare but wouldn't say why. Well this morning he tells me it's because they're having breakfast for lunch at daycare and he doesn't want to be the only kid who packs a lunch. But he doesn't LIKE scrambled eggs (what they're serving), so I packed him cheerios and grapes so he'd have breakfast with everyone else.

I swear, these parenting challenges are so weird sometimes.

She didn't want to review my file for free

2010-06-22T14:36:00.004-04:00

Dr. M was nice...but I really didn't see the point of meeting with her. She had absolutely nothing new to tell us.

I asked Steve, "Why do you think she asked to see us?"

He said, "Because if you didn't come into the office then she'd be reviewing your file for free. She needed that $45 copay."

No...we're not cynical at all...why do you ask?

I do feel a bit like we keep having to explain everything to everyone because they're trying to catch something that the previous ten medical professionals didn't catch. Maybe we'll say something THIS time that will be the "ah-ha" moment. So why do I go through every little detail knowing that there won't be any such moment? I really don't know.

So...nothing new to report about the uterus of doom. She said that if the best they can do is give me a shoulder to cry on, then they'll do that (but at $45 a pop, I don't think I'll be taking her up on that offer...it could get REALLY expensive). And, as per the regularly scheduled program, there are more options available the longer any pregnancy is "successful" (the longer the baby is alive, the better...which is absurdly humorous).

So the best medical minds in the area have come up with this...Get yourself knocked up and hope for the best. Which, surprisingly, I feel oddly at peace with.

There are no guarantees.

That's life.

Next time, though, I think I'll save my $45.

Reading Program Baseball

2010-06-21T22:14:00.019-04:00

Parade on the field...

There's Mom!

The Star Spangled Banner...

At first, Myles was perplexed...

But then there was popcorn...

And hot dogs...

And silliness...

And cotton candy...

And smiles! Just LOOK at that smile!

Summertime

2010-06-21T13:29:00.003-04:00

I want to post all these great posts with photos from all the great things we're doing this summer. But by the time I sit down to put these great posts together, I'm too tired to deal with the downloading and editing and uploading. How lazy is that?

Basically, I'm trying to entertain myself as much as possible...and not obsess. I'm not even subscribing to the "fake it till ya make it" philosophy this summer. I'm using deliberate ignorance. Which means just doing fun stuff with the boys and pretending not to hear the ticking of my biological clock (It's really funny to type that. I remember so clearly the day I started this blog...pregnant with Alex and so certain of the course my life would take and how my family would look when all was said and done. And now...).

Two weeks of summer vacation under our belts and I've:
~been to a minor league baseball game
~finished out the Little League season with a few make-up games and a team picnic
~done a couple of APL events
~been to urgent care for an infected poison ivy rash
~been to The Adventure Zone

A couple of Sam's friends/teammates are coming over today to play (Steve is flying solo so I keep texting him just so I know he can still get to his Blackberry and the kids haven't hog-tied him in a closet somewhere).

Lots of stuff to keep me busy so I'm not thinking about tomorrow's consultation appointment.

Really.

I'm not thinking about it...AT.ALL.

Please vote for us

2010-06-17T10:52:00.003-04:00

Please vote for Ashtabula County Animal Protective League in the Chase Community Giving Summer 2010 charity giveaway. You will have to have a facebook account to vote. If you don't have one, this is a great reason to start one...so you can vote for us! Please and thank you!

It is still there

2010-06-17T09:06:00.003-04:00

I see the dragonfly in the instant just before it thuds into my windshield. I have enough time to think, "Maybe I should slow down and give it a chance." But I don't slow down.

I sing along with the radio...the song that reminds me of Little Bug. And just then I see four crows standing together in the grass by the road. I yell at them, "No! Fuck you! No!"

The pregnant lady sits at the playground during the Little League picnic. I forget the sunscreen and get burned. She's not a team mother...why won't she just go away?!?!

Might have been.

My cat dies.
My dog dies.

Should have been.

I do feel a need to apologize to some. I should be better at this and not say the same things over and over again. They have listened to so much, I should give them a break.

Should. Do. Don't. It all makes me want to scream.

But that won't change a thing.

It's still there.
And I wonder (again) about my sanity.

Goodbye Thunder

2010-06-15T05:54:00.003-04:00

Thunder (previously named Samuel by the APL shelter folks) became ill yesterday and died peacefully in his sleep this morning. He was only with us for a short time (since September), but we loved the big old lug like he'd been here much longer.

We will miss him very much.

Life is good

2010-06-14T11:41:00.003-04:00

Wow! It's been five days since I last posted and you probably have the impression I spent them curled up in bed crying my eyes out. Quite the contrary. Baseball, animal rescue, baseball picnic, board meeting...I am keeping busy and feeling good. Yes, there are moments of sadness, anger and frustration that I usually work out on this blog (for which I should probably apologize more than I do), but generally I'm enjoying life.

It's funny, someone said to me today (after the "I'm sorry"), "You have a lot of blessings in your life...there's nothing like a hard time to make you really appreciate them." And I felt like she was right...and I didn't get angry at the thought. I didn't cry telling her about Little Bug and I actually said, "Well, that's the way life is, I suppose, good and bad." And I meant it.

Last night I watched Sam and Myles being silly and playing on our big king-sized bed...throwing pillows and hiding under blankets...and giggling...oh...the giggling! And I felt that old happiness that I thought might be gone forever. In that moment, I realized it's ok. It's ALL ok. If this is what our family ends up looking like...well...it's pretty great.

Drawing a blank

2010-06-09T20:39:00.003-04:00

Somebody's going to have to come up with some blog material for me because I am running on empty. I'm re-enlisting in the school of "fake it till ya make it" and distracting myself with multiple simultaneous activities not related to babies or housecleaning (both things I detest at the moment). But I just yelled, "Myles, get off of your brother," and, "Samuel, you can not kick at your brother's face like that." So, I think it's just that life goes on. At least I HOPE it's just that life goes on.

Sometimes I can't even believe it was just two months ago I was in the hospital waiting to deliver another dead baby. I remember two months after Alex died...I was still a mess. Now...well...I'm not. I wonder if there is something to this denial thing. I wonder if this is just one of the perks to losing three babies (there aren't that many, don't get too excited). I wonder if I'm becoming someone whose heart is just a little too scarred to care. Funny, how you WANT to forget...and then when you do...you wonder what's wrong with you that you COULD forget.

Goodbye Antoinette

2010-06-06T23:33:00.002-04:00

1992-2010
We love you and we will miss you, our Toni-girl.

Miscellaneous thoughts

2010-06-04T23:47:00.000-04:00

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I don't do hand-holding very well in my professional life. Come to think of it, I don't really do it all that well in my personal life either. I should work on that.
-------------------------------------
The solution to "days like these?" Get drunk and pass out in bed while your husband strokes your hair and laughs at you because you've asked him if he's petting you.
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I stumbled a little bit this week and fell into the woe-is-me pit. I think it was a combination of last weekend's conversation with Dr. A and returning to work after four glorious days off with my little family.

Calling and making a consultation appointment with Dr. M was kind of a Holy-sh!t-we're-actually-going-to-do-this moment. It's one thing to talk about it in the abstract and then spend the day at the zoo with my amazing family. It's another entirely to really think of returning to that place again...having to explain to the receptionist WHY I am scheduling a consult with Dr. M...hearing that catch in her voice and the quiet "I'm so sorry"...all those practical real-life things that will come with this. They say the first step is the hardest, but I have a feeling they are full of crap.
-------------------------------------
My arms are itchy! I'm sure I've complained of weird hives on this blog before. I've looked in my archives and find a couple of springtime references to itchy episodes. I have, in the past, thought it was an allergic reaction to sunscreen...but now I'm not so sure. I have Dr. Googled myself into Polymorphous Light Eruption. It's funny, because now that I think about it, my throat and the front/back of my body just below my neck will get itchy if exposed to the sun too.

I know...but at least I'm not Googling "recurrent intrauterine fetal demise" anymore.
-------------------------------------
I want to play with my camera but I seem to have no time anymore. It's making me cranky. I took it to the zoo but really only snapped of snapshots (which, yes, I will most likely share with you later). I really need to carve out some time to just focus (ha! see what I did there? FOCUS...camera...hilarious stuff, I tell ya!).

Here ya go...just a couple...

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I am back in the saddle as far as my APL volunteer work. The break was needed, for sure, and there are still some awkward moments with "people who don't know yet." But for the most part it's been really nice to be surrounded by people who care about me but have a similar focus...that is NOT me.

Work is a little tougher. Too many babies and baby-oriented women. But my office door is open more than it's closed these days. So that's progress.
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Speaking of APL stuff...why is it that cats don't get the same sympathy as dogs? They're still cute and fuzzy little living creatures. We should all do something to try to take care of them. Why is it people think they can just dump these guys on our doorstep and not give them a second thought? I'm "a dog person," but I still feel bad for them and want to do whatever I can to make sure they survive. Gosh...what has happened to humanity? empathy? compassion? (Do I sound like an 80-year-old here?)
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A few years ago we spent too much money on a television. It broke in 2009 and there was much drama that resulted in a new less-expensive TV and a $300 store credit. The successful completion of second grade brought the urge to celebrate. So we are seeing what all the hoopla is about surrounding the Wii. If the head explosion from excitement in the store was any indication, we're going to enjoy this thing. I'll keep you posted.
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Why, oh why, did I drink a large cinnamon dolce latte at 7pm?!?!
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Days like these

2010-06-03T16:08:00.006-04:00

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"I have baby pictures!" she announced with a big old cheerful smile as she walked down the hallway. I ran past her to the bathroom. When I came out of the bathroom she was in the office next to mine. I could hear the office occupant ooh-ing and aah-ing. I quietly closed my office door, sat down, and had a good cry. I still haven't seen her pictures.
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A whisper screeches in my ear. The slightest touch makes my skin crawl. I can not cope with the dishes or the laundry or the dog hair (oh, there is so much dog hair this time of year). People...friends...come to the door and I can't wait for them to leave so I can retreat to the safety of the rocking chair in my bedroom. Like some kind of feral cat, I bristle at the littlest thing and hiss and scream.

Days like these are tiring. Even more so now because there is no predicting them anymore. I used to feel the heaviness weighing down on me little by little until I was forced to deal with "it." I don't feel those warning signs anymore. Is it possible I have grown a callous over that part of my soul? Is it possible that I've done this so much that a part of me is dead and I am unable to feel it coming? Maybe I've just gotten so used to "fake it till ya make it" that I can't distinguish fake emotion from grief emotion anymore.
---------------------------------------
I started out this life as your average gawky fat person who already had body issues. I've never felt particularly attractive in an overly feminine sort of way. Heads never turned when I walked into a room. And now I can't help but think about my upcoming appointment...how my body has failed me to the point that I need TWO high-risk doctors to help me. How I have NO trust in my physical self. How I would be perfectly content if I could shave my head, wear sweats and tshirts, and burp in socially inappropriate situations. I can't help but feel like a fraud when I buy the sandals I used to think I needed (but now could care less about). Makeup? Forget it. I feel as attractive as Jabba the Hut and I can't see my way to becoming Princess Leia.

Sounds stupid in the grand scheme of things, but I guess I wonder how I can feel pretty again given the circumstances?
---------------------------------------
Another co-worker asks me how my boys are doing and I tell her about my ongoing frustration raising my 8-year-old so he doesn't turn into a liar and a cheat. We chat about all the funny little things he says or does that drive me crazy (but secretly make me love him all the more). And in my head, I hear, "You will never tell these stories about three of your children." That emptiness just never goes away.
---------------------------------------
The scab finally came off my left hand from the site where my IV was. Almost two months later the last physical reminder is gone. I should be happy.
---------------------------------------

So, the bigger child

2010-06-02T18:33:00.002-04:00

The growing pains continue...

I had to keep him from a baseball game tonight because he lied to me about having schoolwork to do...for what appears to be a whole week!

I know, I know, shame on me for not noticing sooner. But I trusted the little booger when he said he didn't have anything that needed done. He did...and he knew he did...and he lied to my face about it.

*sigh*

So far, eight isn't any easier than seven was.

ah-hem

2010-06-02T13:41:00.003-04:00

So...nothing like telling the world that you plan to "get busy"...and allowing comments...to make you feel just a little self-conscious and unsure of what to say next. But I knew I couldn't obsess about this step without talking "out loud" about it. Aren't you just thrilled that you read this blog now? lol! I promise I won't bore you with cycle days and other boring details. But I'll probably share when I feel like I might lose my mind from doubt (because you know it's coming).

Thanks.

Too much information

2010-06-01T19:27:00.000-04:00

"Dead, there's nothing we can do for them, and we don't know what they'd want, we can't even guess...And so in my grief I understand that mourning is a kind of ventriloquism; we put words into the mouths of our bereavers, but of course it's all entirely about us, our wants, our needs, the dead are satisfied, we are greedy, greedy, greedy, unseemly, self-obsessed. If your child did not survive his birth, everyone can see that clearly. I want. I need. Not him. No pretending."

A big THANK YOU for sending all the books. I've been reading them and re-learning some of the points I had apparently forgotten.

They're dead.

I KNOW it seems obvious, doesn't it? But it's something that has to be understood with more than just shock and horror. There is nothing I can do for them and my missing them is purely selfish. There is nothing I can do for them. They are gone. How I choose to integrate their little existences into my own is entirely up to me. When I realized this, it was a freeing moment, the likes of which I haven't really felt before.

So how selfish am I? Selfish enough to let it tarnish the happiness I have with my little living family? No.

Selfish enough to let it scare me away from hoping for another child? Guess what? No.

Though it will seem fast and possibly inappropriate, we have made a decision. With an eye on the ticking clock and a knowledge of ALL of the things that are going against us, we have decided to try again (how I hate that "try again" terminology, but I can not escape it here). As I told Dr. A, "We didn’t have any testing done because we were SURE we were done. But we have realized that even though it was a “surprise” pregnancy (and we weren’t sure about it when we first found out), we really would like to add another child to our family."

We go into this with our eyes open...with our hearts open. We know the potential for disaster is great. But we can't let that make our decisions for us when the potential for joy is...beyond words.

I spoke with Dr. A [interestingly enough, a crow WALKED across the highway in front of the van while I was on the phone with him (no, I wasn't driving)] and he was awesome. He will have another high-risk OB review my medical history/file just to see if there is "anything new" that he's not aware of that might help.

Dr. A said that as long as I can handle it mentally and emotionally, then he's willing to do whatever it takes to make it successful. He fully acknowledges that I'm a medical freak...though he says it in much nicer terms. I got a chuckle when he said, "it (recurrent early miscarriage) is different than what happens to you." What happens to me. I don't know...that was just an oddly appropriate turn of phrase.

We all know the biological facts and statistics...it's going to be a medical gamble. I'm physically healthy and there is no reason not to try.

As far as my mental state, it is very helpful that he seems to honestly care. I mean, how many doctors give you their cell phone number and tell you to call whenever you need to talk? He answers my questions and always always listens to my concerns. And, strangely enough, it is comforting when he admits he doesn't know what to say. He's my doctor, but he doesn't think he's super-human...which works for me.

I have no illusions (or delusions) about what this will be. I know it very well could end in disaster again. But if we lose again, at the very least I will be able to say that I didn't let fear dictate my decisions...that I did everything I could to realize my dreams.

This doesn't mean I won't be afraid or have days where my hope disappears. But I have to try. I realize now that when Little Bug died I was more sad about the prospect of no baby than I was that I had lost this baby. This baby didn't even have a gender assigned to it...so how could I really miss it? But the loss of all hope was too much to bear. We want another child. It took an accidental conception to make us realize that. I suppose that was Little Bug's gift to us.

Little Bug, accidental conception or not, was worth it. Alex and Travis were worth it. Worth the love and happiness they brought. But they are gone and they are satisfied. I can't put my own words into their mouths and then blame them for the fear that is created. It's all me. And it's time I take back my life.

Wish us luck...we're gonna need it.

**update: Dr. A's consult doctor wants to see me. *gulp*

Paperback swap?

2010-06-01T08:35:00.000-04:00

I'd like to thank Jen, who sent me several books, but I don't know which one to thank. So, whichever Jen it was...thanks so much!

Happy Birthday honey

2010-05-30T08:37:00.003-04:00

You still got it...after all these years. :o)

No miscellaneous thoughts

2010-05-28T21:29:00.000-04:00

There are no miscellaneous thoughts today because I spent the day at the zoo with my little family, including my parents. It was perfect weather and we had an amazing time. We saw giraffes and swans and monkeys and bears and lions and fish and dinosaurs...with Sam reading educational signs to us and Myles repeating the animal identifier over and over and over until the next animal. Sam posed for his picture on the "birthday turtle" statue that is actually a tortoise statue. Myles was deathly afraid of the dinosaurs. Sam asked me a zillion times if he could go through the amphibian learning maze and I declared at one point that we would never ever go to the zoo again...EVAH! And then we laughed and laughed. No thought involved...just being in the moment. It was a VERY good day.

8:56am

2010-05-27T08:56:00.003-04:00

He made me look it up for him...the exact time he would turn 8 years old. He is growing up so fast and I can hardly catch my breath. It is just so much fun to watch him laugh and learn and become his own little person.
8:56AM has come and gone. Now you are 8 years old, my Sam-a-lama. Eight years ago you changed our lives forever...made them better...made US better. You made me a mom and taught me more about life and love than I can ever put into words.

I love you to the moon and back.

The Greater Good

2010-05-26T10:33:00.001-04:00

(click and give)

Miscellaneous thoughts

2010-05-21T09:37:00.001-04:00

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Sam and I went to Walmart Thursday to look at bicycles (can you believe he'll be eight years old next week?!?!). Anyway...we walked past the baby section and noticed some adorable baby summer clothes.

You know what I was thinking.

Sam said, "Those would look so cute on Baby Liberty (his cousin)."
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Elizabeth McCracken had a great line in her book. "Closure is bullshit." I literally cheered when I read that.
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I commented on Kate's blog that it would be ok...some day. But really...what do I know? Nothing!

I really need to not be such a moron.
------------------------------------
At first, I had a desperate need to have the baby's urn at home. I wanted it on my bedside table...but when we brought it home, I set it on the fireplace in the living room (where it remains).

The other day, I walked past and felt oddly puzzled at the fact that my dead baby's cremains are sitting on my fireplace. It was a living being in my belly not too long ago. Now it's a marble collectible on the mantle next to my son's handmade "World's Greatest Mom" trophy.
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There are these moments that hit me when I literally can not breathe for the weight of everything on me. These moments usually come on as a result of some sensory memory. The feel of the flannel pregnancy pillow set one off. The sound of the shower set another off. Maybe they are mini panic attacks...who knows. I'm sure there is some not-so-deep psychological reason for them that could be treated with the proper talk therapy and pharmaceutical interventions. Whatever. I'm really not interested in being "cured" just yet.

Today's little attack was EASY to see coming.

See, I follow lots of photography blogs. Photographers work A LOT with wedding, maternity, baby and family photos. I'm ok with them. Never had a problem. But today...this post.

That was the nursery decor I wanted. I had (foolishly) put it on our baby registry. I KNOW! With my history, WHY would I make up a baby registry? I KNOW! But I did.

Now I know for sure...

our baby would have been so adorable with Dr. Seuss.
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I stopped at the APL for dog food to feed my herd. Even there, I run into new moms with new babies. I just want to scream sometimes...REALLY?!?!
------------------------------------
I have almost run through my first month supply of wine and ambien.

The sleeping is not going well.
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This should be printed and handed out to friends and family when a baby dies. No nonsense...straightforward...really perfect.
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Who else is tired of hearing me talk deadbaby? I know I am.
------------------------------------
Did I mention my first baby will be EIGHT in a week? I just look at him sometimes (often eliciting a, "What?") and I think how amazing he is. I never imagined I would have this amazing kid. He reminds me of who we used to be...and who we have become...as a family. He is kind and funny and oh-so-smart. We are so lucky to have him in our lives.

He wants a big kid bike for his birthday but I'm not sure I'm ready for the training wheels to come off yet.
------------------------------------
I was just asked, "Can we smell the fart?"

Yeah...it ain't all Hallmark moments around here.
------------------------------------
I really hate the smell of cheerios.

But I guess it's better than farts.
------------------------------------
Did I tell you that I told Sam he would have to participate in a summer reading program and he cried as though I'd just killed a puppy? Yeah. As someone who LOVES to read, I'm having a hard time dealing with this.
------------------------------------
Sometimes I think life would be a whole lot easier if we didn't have all our pets. And then they do something to make me smile...and I still think life would be a whole lot easier if we didn't have all our pets...but it would also be way less fun.
------------------------------------
I worry about my brother even though I know he's an adult and should be able to handle his life without my advice.

I'm also a little sad that we don't have the kind of relationship where he would ask for my advice.
------------------------------------
I need to find a dentist. Then make an appointment. Then have work done on a probable cavity. Then explain why I haven't been to the dentist in 20 years or so. Should be fun.
------------------------------------
The goal of bill collectors is to irritate you until you beg, borrow, or steal the money to get them off your case. It is a form of harassment and should be illegal. Even though I find it endlessly amusing to play with their heads, I don't appreciate the phone calls first thing at 8am and last thing at 8pm.

Student loans. I dare them to repossess my brain...because...they can have it.
------------------------------------
I have been collecting little things here and there to send to a friend. I don't know where I've stored them in the house. I have a gift I intended to send to another friend over a year ago. It's still sitting on a shelf in my closet. I have thank you cards all addressed and stamped and sitting in a bag I usually carry to work (but haven't needed in the last couple of weeks). I'm not so good at this friendship thing...at least as it involves the postal service.
------------------------------------
Last night at checkout...coffee creamer, marshmallows and wine.
------------------------------------

Might have been

2010-05-20T18:36:00.002-04:00

I had the yarn all picked out in case it was a girl like several people had predicted. But since we will never know, I made this and plan to give it to a friend who is due with a girl right around the same time I was due.
I think it needs booties to go with it. But first I have a tea cozy to finish.

Blame and Disgust

2010-05-20T08:44:00.000-04:00

"And I thought what a good man he was, that he was so understanding, because, and this made me weep harder, because I knew, I knew that this was all my fault. My essential reaction was grief, but somehow the words that floated to the surface of my brain were: people are going to be mad at me."

Elizabeth McCracken

You would think, after all, that I would have some significant insight into grief and healing. You would think, after all, that I would know enough to skip some steps. But no. Instead, I am stuck in stages previously worked through. Right now, I'm back at square one...where I get to blame myself. Except this time there is no hearing the chorus of "it's not your fault." This time the fault IS mine...and it calls into question everything I previously worked through about the blame I deserved.

The first time, it was easy to buy into the idea that it wasn't my fault. With a convenient target of a neglectful doctor who could have saved my baby had she paid attention, I had the perfect way out of the self-blame.

The second time, it was one of those freakish things...lightning does, indeed, strike twice. There was something wrong with him anyway, so maybe it was nature's way of taking care of us.

Now...the third time...there is no denying that it is me. I am the one responsible for all of this. It's my body that fails...time and time and time again. I didn't take the vitamins...I ate a gluten-filled diet...I didn't exercise...I had sex...I threw out all the things that I was hyper-vigilent about with Myles...as if they were irrelevant this time. But even before we get to THAT blame, we have to get over the hurdle of the blame of stupidity. I was SO stupid! I did the irresponsible thing and got myself pregnant AGAIN, knowing the (emotional AND physical) risks. It wasn't planned, but I'm old enough to know how birth control works and I should have protected us all from this heartache.

And now here I am. I can't outrun the blame...can't shift it anywhere...because it is my own self that disgusts me. My body...my (lack of a) brain...everything. And I keep hearing my own voice echoing in my head, "You brought this on yourself."

Thank you Shanna!

2010-05-19T16:39:00.000-04:00

The books and the little bugs are lovely (the googly eyes make me giggle).

Thank you so much!

Choose your words

2010-05-19T09:17:00.001-04:00

----------------------------------
Someone gave me a laminated St. Gerard prayer card that still mocks me from the business card holder on my desk. I told the woman who gave it to me that I didn't believe. But she said it was ok to take it. "Couldn't hurt," she said.

Prayer for Safe Delivery...Preserve me from danger and from the excessive pains accompanying childbirth, and shield the child which I now carry, that it may see the light of day....

Can I give it back or would that seem horribly mean? Should I just throw it in the trash? I don't believe...but I also don't want to offend.
----------------------------------
Along those lines, I had a St. Anthony pendant hanging in my van. I don't want it anymore. Should I just throw it in the trash? I don't believe...but I also don't want to offend.
----------------------------------
God is good.
Prayers work.
(Or some hodge-podge of these two).

Then how do you explain all of this?
God is good...except when he isn't. Accept the plan as good...even if it means THREE dead babies you have to visit in a cemetery.
Prayers work...except when they don't. Sometimes the answer is now...even if it means THREE dead babies you have to visit in a cemetery.

Thanks for considering my feelings before you basically discounted the deaths of my children.
----------------------------------
The anesthesiology bill arrived for services rendered for an "induced abortion." I know it's just a clinical term. I know all the logical explanations. It still made me want to vomit.

And now I can't stop thinking about it. The guilt is paralyzing at times. I literally can not move. I sit in empty rooms and stare at the wall. I lay in bed waiting for the medication to close my eyes for the night and hold the nightmares at bay.

I've been here before and I KNOW I have nothing to feel guilty for. But still...

Who really gives a f**k, right? Get on with it. I know how to do this.

Except I forget.

"3 weeks is the point at which if you're still walking, you're doing great."

Oh yeah...that's right.

So now it's been a month and a client leaves my office and jokes to the receptionist, "You might want to check on her, she might want to commit suicide after our meeting."

Yeah...idiot...because THAT'S what would do it.
----------------------------------
We went out to dinner with my parents a couple weekends ago. They brought my (adorable) little one-year-old niece and my mom said, "I wasn't sure if you'd be upset that we brought her." How am I supposed to respond?

Other than that, we had a fairly decent time. And considering it was the day before Mother's Day, I'd say that was pretty good.
----------------------------------
Laying in bed one night discussing my brother's family drama (which I won't discuss becuase it's HIS business and I respect that even if I don't agree with his decisions) and the freedom that must come from being able to let it all fall apart...Steve distinctly highlighted the pressure I've been feeling lately.

"That's what we do, Cath, we just ARE okay. No worries."

Yeah.

We're OK.

No worries.

Except I threw a tv table across the room the other day...

So maybe not so much ok? maybe just a few worries?

Meh...Who really gives a f**k, right? Get on with it. I know how to do this.
----------------------------------

Nutshell philosophy

2010-05-18T10:28:00.000-04:00

I read a bumper sticker once that said, "A philosophy that fits in a nutshell should stay there." (Yeah, I know...funny, right? I still chuckle about it.)

And there ya have it...the current target of my grief-induced anger...

Don't wrap it all up in a neat little bow. Don't give me a "nugget of wisdom" that is supposed to make me think. Don't spew some one-liner from an insprational poster. Don't, for the sake of my sanity, act like you've got it ALL figured out. The secret of life is just that...a secret.

So please...just don't.

Thank you!

2010-05-17T18:18:00.005-04:00

----------------------------------
Thank you to everyone who helped me in my "deadbaby book quest." I have a stack of books to read through now. It's helping. To have words to read that make sense out of some of the jumble in my brain.

So thank you!
----------------------------------
I wasn't sure I was supposed to open this because it was pretty well sealed shut. But I had to know what was inside and I'm SO glad I was curious. It is just lovely.

Thank you Niobe!

----------------------------------
Thank you E! It is beautiful! (the picture doesn't do it justice)

----------------------------------
Thank you to every single person who sent a card or a note or an email or a good thought. Everything is going in Little Bug's memory box.
----------------------------------

Time warp

2010-05-16T11:31:00.004-04:00

The last time we went out to a movie was on my birthday in February. We went to the same movie theater. Only it was cold and snowy then and I wore my peachy orange winter coat and my scarf and my boots. I was so worried about slipping on the ice that Steve parked in a parking space right up by the front door.

This time, I wore a light little top and my new black sandals with heels. We parked as far away from the front door as we possibly could.

I said, "I feel like I'm in a time warp here."

He said, "I didn't think...do you want to go to a different theater?"

"No. I can face this one."

We each took a deep breath, went inside, and enjoyed a different movie.

Sometimes it's just so hard to believe it was just a month ago it all went upside down. Sometimes I can vividly remember little details that were so unimportant at the time (but obviously must've made an impression). Mostly, I remember the happiness and the feeling that anything was possible.

Yes, I can face those memories.

Miscellaneous thoughts

2010-05-14T09:32:00.009-04:00

-------------------------------
Just realized I left a small glass of Southern Comfort Hurricane cocktail sitting on my bedside table. I wonder if the cats will drink it and if they do, will it kill them?

(For the record...not they did not...and they are fine.)
-------------------------------
I talked with a client on the phone...and I just kept wondering, "Does he know? Did someone tell him? What if he doesn't know? The next time he sees me he's surely going to figure it out. Maybe I should just say something. But I can't...etc...etc...etc."

Don't ask me what he wanted...I can't remember ANY of our conversation.
-------------------------------
I bled for two weeks...ovulated...and now I have my period.

Every day I checked the toilet paper for blood. Every.Single.Day. I figured if it was all going to go wrong, it would be something new and exciting like a bloody miscarriage. Instead, our baby just quietly died.

And now there is blood.

I just can't put into words how this has knocked the wind out of me.
-------------------------------
I have been "not pregnant" for a month now...and I just caught myself leaning back in my chair with my cup resting on the top of my belly.
-------------------------------
I sent out a couple feelers for photographer assistant jobs. Didn't get them (didn't even hear back). But I have been motivated lately to pick up my camera and WORK with it. I'm also editing some older shots for what will turn into a portfolio (maybe online). For my sanity, I have to make some changes in my life. HAVE TO.
-------------------------------
I applied for a forbearance for my law school loans. Bill paying wasn't high on our list of priorities for a few weeks and I got kind of behind. For some reason, they approved it for the majority of the loans...but not for one portion of it (something about private versus federal...blah, blah, blah). So that portion remains delinquent.

The collection person called me today asking when payment would be made.
I said, "I don't know."
She asked, "You can't make the payment?"
I said, "No, I don't think I can."
She SIGHED and said, "This did affect your credit and the calls will continue until payment is made."
I said, "It's your dime."
She said, "Thank you," and HUNG UP!

Now, this is my first go-round with being late with bills of any kind...so I have no collections experience to compare it to. But that's it?!?! Really?!?! You're going to CALL ME until I pay?!?! I'm shaking in my boots.

At least the lady who called about the late car payment asked me where the car was and what shape it was in (to which I said, "You sound like you're about to repossess it for ONE late payment"). Now THAT was at least a LITTLE intimidating.

And for the record, I DO plan on paying the missed payment...I was just jerking her chain to see what kind of reaction I'd get. I guess now I know.
-------------------------------
Finally, using all those maxi pads pays off. Free movie ticket offer inside specially marked packages of Always (and Tampax). I'm going to see some Russell this weekend for free...awesome!

And I cashed in some of my Pamper's points a while back and got an Applebee's gift card. So we'll have dinner too!

Wince we did not manage to overcome the Mother's Day shadow last weekend and get our tattoos...I will be doing that as well. Steve may or may not, depending on whether he can come up with a design idea that doesn't repulse me. It's his skin...but I have to look at it...so we're trying to find something that makes us both happy.
-------------------------------

Exact Replica

2010-05-13T12:26:00.005-04:00

I'm finding nuggets in this book that take hold and won't let go.

"It was very strange to have been so happy so recently, and I felt that if I puzzled it over enough I might be able to find my way back..."

That is exactly it.

Exact Replica

2010-05-12T22:16:00.005-04:00

The lovely Catherine loaned me her copy of An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination, by Elizabeth McCracken, and I couldn't put it down until I was finished reading the entire thing.

I won't write a review...because that's not who I am...but this line toward the end of the book had me weeping for the truth of it...

"To remember that he was dead, but to remember him without pain: he's dead but of course she still loves him, and that love isn't morbid or bloodstained or unsightly, it doesn't need to be shoved away."

I may be a freak. I may be the the thing that pregnant women don't want to hear about. I may always be a little sad (and say sad things).

But I love my babies. ALL of my babies.

I will not apologize for it. And I will not hide it.

Did that just happen?

2010-05-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

I was in the produce section of the grocery story yesterday when a seemingly normal-looking guy next to me asked, "Can I ask you a question?"

Now, clueless guys in the grocery store are not exactly unheard of...so, thinking he wanted to know the difference between parsley and chives, I said, "Sure,"

Guy: "Well, it is personal."

Me: (not sure what to do)

Guy: "Who did you vote for in the last election?"

Me: (thinking he meant last week) "Umm...yeah...that is personal." (nervous laughing)

Guy: (staring)

Me: (taking a step forward...trying to get away)

Guy: (moving his cart in front of mine) "Well, let me ask you this, how do you think Obama is doing as President so far?"

Me: (really really really creeped out) "Umm...that really is a personal opinion and I think I'll keep it to myself." (turning my cart around and walking the other way...toward the safety of the well-populated checkout area)

Guy: (zooms his cart off toward the bakery...turns around...zooms all the way back around the other end of the aisle to go past me again at which point he says) "Nobody wants to admit their mistakes." (zooms off again)

Me: (standing there thinking, "Did that really just happen?" I saw nobody close enough who might have overheard that I could ask. So I texted Steve about how I'm such a freak I've now become a freak magnet.)

Do I give a flying f*** about politics on the fifth anniversary of the delivery of my stillborn son? Really?

I SWEAR he was normal-looking (shorter-than-me-balding-white-guy-in-his-forties-with-very-blue-unblinking-eyes).

But that IS what they usually say of serial killers..."He seemed so normal."

After our "encounter," I saw him picking up a prescription at the pharmacy...and then a bottle at the state liquor agency...which explains a LOT.

Alex Gerard

2010-05-11T23:28:00.000-04:00

Little kid, harsh realities

2010-05-10T09:47:00.006-04:00

My Sam-a-lama has had so many disappointments in his little life. I'm not talking about not getting that train table or that xBox360 he "had to have"...or his TV show being "accidentally" deleted from the DVR (I will NEVER admit it)...or not being good at soccer. I wish those were the only kinds of disappointments he had to deal with. No, my sweet boy had to learn, at three years old, hard truths about reality and the randomness of the universe that I didn't have to learn until I was THIRTY-three. He had to learn lessons of life and death and grief and coping that were far beyond his years. And now he's seven (almost eight) and he just keeps getting hit over the head with life lessons he JUST.SHOULD.NOT.HAVE.TO.LEARN.YET.IF.EVER.

I wish I could describe for you the look on his face when we sat in that minivan-I-love-to-hate in the rainy daycare parking lot and told him Little Bug died. Though I know he tried to be strong for me, I saw pain, anger, hurt and confusion all flash across his face before he was able to push it all down and contain it. It was fleeting, maybe four or five seconds tops, but it was a look I will never forget...and had hoped to never see again.

And then we had a conversation during our Mother's Day McDonald's dinner in bed that stopped me cold.* He was explaining to Myles how he's the big brother but how Myles could be a big brother too, "...when mommy has another baby...if she EVER does" (said with a slightly exasperated tone...which...really...I know the feeling kid). I literally stopped breathing for a second or two as the gears turned oh-so-slowly in my head. It was like being doused with a gallon bucket of ice water...you hold your breath and then, after the initial shock passes, shake it off.

Me: "Sam, I'm sorry, but I don't think there are going to be any more babies for mommy."

Sam: "Why not?"

(Hell kid, why don't you just stab me through the heart and get it over with?)

Me: "Because mommy can't take the heartbreak anymore. It's too much...getting all excited for a new baby...and it not happening...no new baby. It makes me too sad."

And THERE...I saw it again...THAT LOOK. Again it flashed across his face and disappeared to someplace I can't go...someplace I'm not allowed. I don't remember this being in any of the parenting books and, truth be told, I'm more than a little afraid of that look. I'm afraid of what it means. I'm afraid because he has the ability to so easily control it..hide it...and continue to eat his cheesburger.

Everyone says he'll be fine. Everyone says we'll all be fine. And I want to scream.

You don't know that. Surely as you didn't know that Alex...or Travis...or Myles...or Little Bug would be fine. You don't know that he'll be FINE! You don't KNOW anything.

In one of those soon-after-the-baby-died (drunken) moments (when you're determined getting pregnant again immediately would be the BEST idea), I sent a Facebook message to my friend Jenne (let me tell you right now, that woman is a genius and I love her), who responded with this...

Quit worrying about what other people think and take a good, hard look at the faces around your dinner table tonight. If you think that everyone there is on board with you and the possibilities - good and bad - then who is anyone to say that you shouldn't try again?

Yes, it's time to stop dragging my kids through my own crap. It's time to grow up (finally...at 38 years old) and do what is best for all of us. Sadly, it's time to teach Sam (and Myles) that sometimes you just don't get the perfect fairytale ending. Here's hoping we can still salvage some sort of happily-ever-after anyway.

*McDonald's was requested so that we could avoid sitting in a "nice" restaurant with any new mommies celebrating their first Mother's Day.

Perfect Moment Monday

2010-05-10T08:00:00.003-04:00

It's Mother's Day...go fly a kite

2010-05-09T19:26:00.000-04:00

Mother's Day gifts

2010-05-09T13:22:00.000-04:00

Sam-a-lama "worked very hard in school to make these" for me (his words).

And look what my amazing husband got for me...

Happy Mother's Day

2010-05-09T06:00:00.003-04:00

Travis Leo

2010-05-08T04:30:00.002-04:00

Miscellaneous thoughts

2010-05-07T16:01:00.010-04:00

----------------------------------------
Today I texted Steve, "We need to get a life."

And then, "Get a life...that's hysterical."

If it weren't for dark humor we'd have no sense of humor at all.
----------------------------------------
It's been four weeks.
----------------------------------------
I just watched Grey's Anatomy and suddenly can not breathe. Dr. Yang is talking to a little girl about what she'll do if her mommy dies. Dr. Yang says something to the effect that at first it's going to hurt a lot whenever she thinks of her mommy...but with time it will hurt less and less...until eventually she'll think of her and it will only hurt a little bit.

Here's the thing...if it hurts a little bit when I think of Alex...and a little bit when I think of Travis...and a little bit when I think of Little Bug...that's a whole lot of little bits of hurt.
----------------------------------------
I read a couple of posts in different places today that were, "yeah...what she said," kinds of things, so I thought I'd share...

On having two healthy children and a dead one...
I feel like there's a traffic jam going on in my head at all times..."

On having a second miscarriage...
One mc is unlucky, a fluke, something that happens to a lot of women. Two mc's make me someone who has mc's, makes me someone to be pitied, someone who might never have another child, someone who serves as a cautionary tale, someone who was a fool for expecting happiness, someone who is numb, someone who might never ttc again, someone who has to be tested, someone who is tired. I feel stupid for putting myself in this place.
----------------------------------------
Before we got married, Steve said he wanted to have six kids. We have five...but I'm pretty sure this isn't the way he pictured it.

He's a good guy and would never say. But I know he can't see me and not be a little bit disgusted and disappointed. I am.

I'm also more sorry than I can ever say.
----------------------------------------
The boys and I had a whole day alone together as a result of a compensatory day for teachers (for parent-teacher conferences). We didn't do anything.

There was a time when I would've thought that was a waste of a day. But now, I think it's a precious thing...just being together.

I could have done without the, "mom, I puked on my bed." But the rest was great.
----------------------------------------
A month later and I'm still carrying around the sad little teabags nurse Karen scrounged up for me at the hospital when I requested herbal tea. Julia and Sara introduced me to Teavana teas in their care package and now I think it's time to retire Lipton for good. Maybe I'll put one or two in Little Bug's memory box.

But seriously...how have I not heard of this tea before? It is SO good!
----------------------------------------
At the end of last week we applied for a refinance on our house. We're not looking to get any money out of it...just want to lower our monthly payment.

They said no.

They also said no to any sort of modification of mortgage terms.

I told them, "You understand that at some point I'm going to have to walk away from this house and it will be yours, right?"

The conversation devolved from there. She threatened that the bank would sue us and I laughed at her and told her, "You do what you have to do...can't take what I don't have." And then it got even worse...to the point where I said, "Look lady, I just buried my third dead baby...take my house if you want it so bad...it's yours," and hung up and sobbed. It wasn't pretty. After that, the mortgage lady called and left a voicemail on my husband's cell phone...she sounded very nervous. Poor thing didn't know what hit her.
----------------------------------------
I thought you were supposed to bring food when somebody died. But apparently, when a baby dies, you bring plants. I KNOW people are trying to be kind. I KNOW they want to show their love for us and acknowledge that we lost something precious. But good grief...the plants! It's like, "You're baby died? Here, have an hydrangea/azalea/weigela/hosta."

And the worst part is, this isn't my first time at this rodeo...and I've killed almost ALL the plants given to us for previous dead babies! You'd think people would get the hint already...I am not good at keeping things alive in my uterus OR in my garden.
----------------------------------------
I'm ALL tangled up in my relationships with other people. I need to find a way to feel what I feel without those strings influencing me.
----------------------------------------
I deleted a bunch of Facebook games that were causing more stress than enjoyment. Just one question...How did I get sucked into keeping virtual fish alive?
----------------------------------------
Sam spends Saturday nights in our king-size bed. We call it "sleepover night." It's a leftover from when he co-slept and we needed to transition him to his own bed.

Last weekend he and I were sound asleep when there was this huge *THUD*. I did the in-control-mommy-thing and promptly freaked the f*** out.

M: "Sam! SAM! Are you OK? What happened? Sam? Did you hurt anything...what did you hurt?"

Sam: "Diet Pepsi?"

Deep breath...lift him back into the bed...giggle to myself. I REALLY need to relax a little.
----------------------------------------
Myles can say "S" at the start of words but calls his brother Mas. As in, Sam backwards. Selective dyslexia? It's so weird.
----------------------------------------
My seven-year-old has learned well the art of the successful nag...and it's driving me CRAZY!
----------------------------------------
I am REALLY tired of snuggling with Myles and having my breasts leak. Not a lot...just enough to make me very sad.
----------------------------------------

Time for a color change

2010-05-07T11:10:00.002-04:00

The old was getting on my nerves for the perkiness of it all.

I was going to use skulls on fire, but figured that might be a tad offensive.

This blue seems to match my mood pretty well right now...so there ya go!

So loved

2010-05-06T16:11:00.006-04:00

Today I feel very loved. The outpouring of support and kindness has proven that humans have an amazing capacity to love...and that love is a powerful healing force.

Today, waiting on my porch was this very large box...

Filled to the top...

From Sara and Julia (from Ohio to Boston and back)...

And this...this...literally took my breath away...

Thank you ladies. I can never re-pay you for what this means to me.

May 6, 2010

2010-05-06T09:45:00.004-04:00

Instead of attending an optimistically scheduled prenatal appointment today, I'd like to ask for your help. If anyone has any of the following books, I would very much appreciate the chance to borrow them. Email me. Thanks!

Hope is Like the Sun: Finding Hope and Healing After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Infant Death by Lisa Church

A Piece of My Heart: Living Through the Grief of Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Infant Death by Molly Fumia (Author)

Forever Silent, Forever Changed: The Loss of a Baby in Miscarriage, Stillbirth, Early Infancy. A Mother's Experience and Your Personal Journal by Kellie Davis (Author)

Love, Mom: A Mother's Journey From Loss to Hope by Cynthia Baseman

The Good Grief Club by Monica Novak (Author)

Gracie by Ryan Warnick (Author)
----------------------------------
On the way here...thank you!

An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination: A Memoir by Elizabeth McCracken

Empty Cradle, Broken Heart, Revised Edition: Surviving the Death of Your Baby by Deborah L. Davis (I have actually read this one...gave it away...would like to read it again)

Free to Grieve: Healing and Encouragement for Those Who Have Suffered Miscarriage and Stillbirth by Maureen Rank

When Your Baby Dies: Through Miscarriage or Stillbirth (Hope and Healing Series) by Louis A. Gamino

A Silent Sorrow: Pregnancy Loss - Guidance and Support for You and Your Family by Ingrid Kohn, Perry-Lynn Moffitt

Mourning Sickness - Stories and Poems about Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss by Missy Martin (Author), Jesse Loren (Editor)

Naming the Child: Hope-Filled Reflections on Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Death by Jenny Schroedel

Something Happened: A book for children and parents who have experienced pregnancy loss. by Cathy Blanford (Author), Phyllis Childers (Illustrator)

Everything Is Under Control

Christmas is...

It's a simple rule

Making a difference

New Blogger and me

Today, tomorrow, and yesterday

It's not you, it's me

The size of your next step doesn't matter as much as the direction.

All kinds of lost

It's still here

One year

Because of what's coming

Because I should be writing a baby book

Why? Goodbye, that's why.

Miscellaneous thoughts

Happy New Year

2011 Resolutions

Another year down

Congratulations

Decorating the xmas tree

To the future...

Daily affirmations

Still here

Inside the system

New shoes

First time mommy question # 86730662

Not ok

Who's the boss?

The rhythm is gonna getcha

How nice of Fisher Price

The impatience of grief

Help my kid help the animals

What it means to be grown up

TLC

My screwed up psyche

Well hello there

Unfinished business

Goodbye Daisy Mae

If wishes were happy healthy babies...

I do not believe...and yet it still hurts

Keeping busy

Thank you Michelle!

I cried

20 years

Crazy bird

Could have been...

Could have been...

Miscellaneous thoughts

And yet...

Please help

Busy busy busy

Happy Independence Day!

In the holiday spirit

5 years!

Dead baby lesson #673

It just gets better and better

I wonder

Didn't see that one coming

She didn't want to review my file for free

Reading Program Baseball

Summertime

Please vote for us

It is still there

Goodbye Thunder

Life is good

Drawing a blank

Goodbye Antoinette

Miscellaneous thoughts

Days like these

So, the bigger child

*ah-hem*

Too much information

Paperback swap?

Happy Birthday honey

No miscellaneous thoughts

8:56am

The Greater Good

Miscellaneous thoughts

Might have been

Blame and Disgust

ah-hem