Baby Girl

Here I am at 23 weeks.  Baby's movements can now be felt when a hand is placed on my huge belly.  In fact, last night Steve and I enjoyed just lying in bed and feeling Baby bounce around.  I imagined what I felt, little feet, tiny fists, knees or a backside.

It has also been a bit difficult in last weeks as well.  Tis the season, the season where we might really miss the faces we can no longer see.  Which means I have really been missing Joel and my Dad as well.  I don't know if the tiredness that sometimes overwhelms me is because of the pregnancy or because of the emotions and the grief.  But I take it easy, I am fortunate that I can, and I often take a nap during the day.

It's also been something new, the realization that this Baby is a girl.  Maybe this seems strange, or worse, very unseemly, but it has opened up a new set of grief possibilities.  I mean that in a sense, there has been a new sadness in thinking that our girl-baby might have a PBD.

NOT because it's worse when a girl is ill or dies.  Children are children.  Losing a child is just... hard to explain if you have not been there.  I wept many times this week, thinking of the people who lost a 6 or 7 year old, knowing they had been absolutely blindsided by their sudden appearance in the land of child loss.  Here in the world of grief so suddenly, with no warning at all.  At least I know ahead of time...

But I am off topic.  Here is the thing about a girl.  A girl just is different from a boy.  They are.  And girl children are a different relationship and a different set of losses.  A whole new set of "what ifs" to think about.  That might be hard to understand, but there it is.  If this Baby had been male, then I had already grieved once "the boy stuff."  In fact, I am so blessed to have experienced a son once already in Caeden.

It is strange, I acknowledge, that expecting another boy did not make me grieve not having a daughter, but having a daughter who might not live past her fifth birthday makes me grieve very specifically the loss of having a daughter.  But it is so.  There is something about losing what was possible and became impossible.

So when we realized Baby was girl, then we started thinking about father-daughter dates, and tea parties, and dolls, fluffy dresses, and when we'd allow make-up (if ever!).  You know.  Those sort of things.  Because a daughter is just a different relationship from a son.  And losing a daughter would be a bit different from losing a son.  No less or more painful to be sure.  But full of sudden grief realizations we hadn't had before.

A bit of something to work through.  Don't think I'm not super excited about a daughter on the way, though.  I am.  I have picked up a few girl clothes items.  We have our name picked, and when we are alone, we call Baby by her name.  We can't wait to hold her.

A strange fact: I have started to dream lots about Baby being born, and in every dream so far, she has been a boy!  Does this mean I can't really believe she is a girl?  I don't know, but that part makes me laugh, another dream of a boy baby as if I am in some sort of gender denial!  And in some of my dreams, Baby is a healthy boy.  And in some of my dreams Baby has a PBD.  Maybe that pretty much sums it up.

Now I better go.  My son is hungry.  He needs food!  He is growing like a weed, an inch since September.

Thanks all who pray for me during this time.  I appreciate it very much.

This post is just to point out I put a couple of 'new' pictures on the sidebar.  Lately Steve has been asking me why there are no picture of him up there.  So, I figured I better put a few up.  I never meant to exclude Daddy.  :)

I wish I had more pictures of Steve and Joel, but pickings are slim.  Not because Steve was not holding Joel or playing with him, because Steve did that every single day.  Just because Daddy was the camera guy and the camera guy never gets pictures of himself.  And if Daddy had Joel, Mommy beat a hasty exit to make the supper, or clean the kitchen, or maybe just take a nap.  I feel sad now that it never occurred to me to take more pictures of Steve with Joel.  I sure wish I had.

I tend to leave Steve out of this blog, because I sort of feel like he needs his privacy and I don't want to drag him and his feelings out onto my blog when he might not want them there.  So maybe he is a bit of a "gap" in the story at times.

But let me say this for the record.  He is one heck of a Daddy.  He loved Joel, he held him and talked to him and played with him and worried over him and loved him.  Not a week goes by that he doesn't tell me how much he misses holding Joel's little feet in his hand (he always used to rub them, because Joel liked it) or how Joel's hair smelled (because Joel smelled awesome all the time).

And because of Steve, I was able to stay home with our son and care for him myself.  I was also able to stay home with Caeden after Joel died, and spend time recovering myself and my son.  Steve is a great dad, and a great husband.  We love him very much.  I thank God for my husband.  And the rest of it is private, personal, and confidential.  :)

An Interesting Morning

OK, we had a small scare this weekend, but I don't want anyone to get all worried after the fact.  Everything is OK, at this time.  So no one freak out, OK?  (boy, three "OK's" in a row)

On Sunday morning I woke up with a dull back-ache and a "menstrual cramping" feeling across my abdomen.  It felt exactly the the cramps I had the week before my last miscarriage, and if you look it up in the baby book, it is listed as a symptom of miscarriage.

So we were pretty worried.  We went in to emergency where we discovered that Baby had a good, strong heartbeat.  And that my uterus was nice and soft (and thus not having hard contractions).  Which was a relief.  We did blood work and a pee test in case my symptoms were the result of a UTI, and they sent us home with instructions for me to take Tylenol for the pain and to rest and take it easy.  They scheduled me in for an ultra sound Monday (today).

We were feeling better as we drove home.  Still a bit worried, though, as my pain was continuing and as the Dr. warned that he really couldn't say one way or the other if I were indeed losing the baby.

Today we went in for the ultrasound.  I was feeling much, much better both physically and emotionally as last night the pain had greatly subsided, and this morning I no pain at all.

The ultrasound was also encouraging.  They check the baby's placenta and the mommy's cervix.  While technically the tech (hee hee, that sounds funny) can not diagnose anything, I took it as a very good sign that there was no emergency since they let me go without a doctor coming to talk to me.  My doctor gets the final report to share the details with me, but I am pretty sure that if Baby was in danger of dropping out of me any minute, they would not have sent me off without warning me and ordering me to stay off my feet.

Baby is beautiful, by the way.  I saw a face, and a brain, kidneys, a heart, bladder, tummy, arms, hands, legs, feet.  :)  I even saw the lips and nose.

Wanna know what I DIDN'T see?  Oh, I just bet you do!!  Well, first let me say that the tech warned us that the angle was not perfect, and that there is enough of a margin of error that she wouldn't record the sex of the baby on the official report.  But we all agreed (even the tech) that baby did not appear able to pee standing up!

(disclaimer) NO REFUNDS IN CASE OF DISAPPOINTMENT LATER

but....

It seems that Baby is a girl!!!!

Which was a total shock to me.  Seriously, I was in shock.  I was expecting a boy, I think.  I still can not believe it.  I wanted to tell Steve to take me out to buy the cutest little dress ever, but I was afraid Baby had tricked us.

Because I can tell you that Baby has a mind of her own.  She did what she wanted to do, and our ultrasound be hanged!  I have never had to flip and flop on an u/s table like that before.  For both boys I lay on my back and I am pretty sure I stayed there the whole time.  The tech never did get one or two of the pictures of Baby's heart that she needed, because Baby just refused to turn to the right angle for her.  I got up to pee to shift her, and while she did move, it didn't help.  I lay on my right side, and then my left side, and then my back and then my right side and then my left side.. you get the picture.  I was very amused, but now I have to go back on Friday for about 5 minutes of u/s photos.  :)

In fact, she didn't let Daddy and Caeden see her face either.  The tech got it and I saw it, but by the time the boys came in, she had firmly placed herself face down.

Hope you are still with me through all this details, I mostly put em in for the relatives who read this and actually care.  The rest of you are welcome to have snored through the play by play.

For now, Baby is moving.  I have no more cramps.  And the ultrasound tech didn't look worried.  So I am going to relax and not worry about it, unless there are further developments.  It looks to me like a false alarm.  Whew.  Thank you God. 

Just about half way there!

So, here I am at nineteen weeks....!

I started to feel Baby moving at about 16 weeks, and each week the movements get a bit stronger and more frequent.  I am really looking forward to the day when Steve and Caeden will be able to share in that, because Baby is big enough to make his/her presence known to the outside too.

Baby continues to be more "real" to me.  By which I mean that my brain is starting to conceive the idea that come some day in April, there will be a very small little human being living in my house.  Which is very exciting, but of course, not without it's share of very strong emotions both positive and then the more difficult.

Because it is all a big, big unknown.  And most days I feel fairly happy and excited about it.  But also...

Two nights ago I had a dream about Baby's arrival.  In my dream, I was newly home from hospital and was caring for Baby and nursing him (it was a boy, and NO, I DO NOT think this dream was in any way prophetic!).    Then in my dream it occurred to me that I was home from the hospital and no one had even checked or tested Baby for PBD.  So I put my hand on Baby's small little head and felt... huge sutures still unknit in the bones of his head and a large fontanel...  In my dream it felt just EXACTLY like Joel's head had felt, even though in waking life, I have been having a hard time remembering exactly what Joel's newborn head felt like.

And then the emotions hit me.  I wept, because Caeden wanted a healthy sister, and he was getting a sick little brother, another Joel.  And I wept for Baby, because I love Baby so much and I want to feel a healthy little head that can grow and develop and not get sick one day and die.  Of course that is what I want.  And in my dream, the emotions of it hit me, and I wept.

Which made for an interesting day of thinking yesterday, after I woke up.  Things do look different in the light of day, though.  Thank the good Lord.

I read an adoption story recently, where a mom shared their experience with fostering to adopt.  That mom was saying that people who foster adopt need to be people capable of faith.  She was talking about having faith that they could love a child and let it go, faith that going back to the child's family really could be best for the child, faith that they could survive the pain of letting that child go.  That sort of thing.  That resonated with me.

Because this experience is all about faith for me too, only I put my faith in God, not my own abilities which are admittedly often quite sparse and unimpressive.  This Baby is a child of faith.  Not that I believe God will give me a healthy child, though surely I hope that very strongly.  The faith part isn't believing I'll get what I wish, but rather that if I get what I do not want, there will be grace sufficient for me to be joyful and peaceful and content, not in getting what I want, but being made able to want what I have gotten.  And in a sense, I am already grateful and happy with what I've got, even if it is not what I want.  Confused yet?

I am believing that God is faithful and will give me the strength to care for Baby, even is there is no sleep, or even when there are doctors and symptoms and stress.  I am believing that God is faithful to give me great love for Baby and still survive the pain of one day losing my child.

None of that faith makes it easier for me to suffer the stress or pain or loss.  I mean, the pain of surgery hurts whether you have trust the doctor knows what he is doing or not.  But it does give me courage.  That is a different thing, and it is not courage that is innate or part of my character.  It is courage that just springs from the trust I have in God that He has carried me through, and will carry me through, even in the darkest and most difficult parts.  Even knowing already a little bit of just how dark and difficult it can be.

And it means that even though now some days are crying days as I miss Joel or think about the difficulties that lie ahead, I am still full of joy about this little one jumping around inside of me.

I still don't have my date for my ultrasound.  It's gotta arrive soon, as they usually want to do it before you hit over 22 weeks.  I can't wait to get that done.  :)  It is scary for me, and exciting too.  It won't tell me if Baby has PBD, but at least I will know that major organs are all looking good.

Awhile back, Caeden admitted to Steve and I that "I was sometimes jealous of Joel."  It was so good to hear him understand that and admit it so we could talk about it.  Whew, what a blessing to have that in the open for him, so that when Baby arrives we can continue the discussion as necessary.  Because sick or healthy baby, Caeden is bound to have some moments of jealously.  Even now, as my lap gets smaller and smaller, it is a bit hard for him.  I'm trying to get across the message that sitting next to mommy with her arm around you is still a good thing.  What I'll do when both arms are holding Baby, only God knows!  But I trust Him to share that wisdom with me, when the time comes.

BTW, my belly is HUGE.  Already.  Yikes!  It's always like that for me, I seem enormous and I'm only halfway through.  I've only gained 8 pounds, which is the lower side of average for my dates, so it's not like I'm packing on the pounds.  But I'm ready to topple over with each step.  Maybe one day I'll put up a front and side picture.  From the front, it really doesn't look bad at all.  Then you get the side shot...  :)  My mother in law would love to see those pictures up here. 

Peach, Fist, or Kit-Kat bar

At this point in my pregnancy, I have realized that no one really knows the size of my baby!  It all depends where you look up the info.  I think that is because Baby could measure (from head to bum) anywhere from 3&1/4 inches to 4 inches or so.

Anyway, I am now between week 14 and week 15.  This is exciting, because once I hit week 16, I start "listening" every day to see if I can feel Baby move.  Pregnancy is a lot more fun, once you can feel Baby.  Though I am still having my fair share of nausea...

This week, a note came home from Kindergarten.  The note asked me to supply a family picture for Caeden to take in for "Show & Tell" as part of the unit "About Me."

I sat for a few minutes mulling that over.  Then I turned to tell Caeden I needed to print up a family picture for him to take to school.  He told me that was not possible, because his family was too big to fit in just one picture.  That made me smile, because of course, we certainly don't have any picture that has four grandparents, three uncles, three aunties and five cousins all together in it.

So I asked him, "Tell me what people do YOU think should be in the picture if it is of your family?"  I hoped that my voice was neutral and that nothing betrayed my feelings.  Five year olds shouldn't feel pressure from their mommies to put dead siblings into photos, right?  And he said "Mommy, Daddy and me."  And I said "OK, I can get you a picture like that."  Hoping again that my voice was neutral.  Then he said "No, wait, I want a picture of Mommy, Daddy, AND JOEL, and me."  And I said "OK, I can do that for you too."

It was a blessing to hear him say that.  And of course, it made me think.  Because Joel is fading rapidly from his memory.  In fact, he has often not recognized Joel in old pictures anymore, even though he pretty much always mentions him  if someone asks about our family, or if he has any brothers or sisters.  But that is because Joel is a concept he understands, but not really a person he knows...

And it is a blessing that now, he still wants to have a picture with Joel in it to show to people.  Yet I know it isn't reasonable to expect a 10 year old, or especially a 15 year old Caeden to want to tell everyone about his dead sibling at "Show & Tell."  He might grow up to be that sort of boy, that kid who just tells people "I had a brother who died when I was 4" but then it will continue "but I really don't remember him anymore."

And that is a blessing AND a sadness.  It has been a blessing that Caeden was so young when Joel died.  It causes him some anxiety, confusion, fear, etc.   But at age 4, it is A LOT different losing a 2 year old brother who never could play with you, then it would have been if Caeden had been 7 or 8.  He has no sorrow, today, about his brother.  He might have an occasional bout of wistfulness, wishing he had a sibling to play with, etc.   But he has no sorrow about it.  My son has no scars on him either.

But the sadness is that Joel is only a concept and not a person to my oldest son.  He can't remember Joel.  The whole experience is lost to him, both the good, and the bad.  A blessing, and a sadness.

Which of course brings us round to Baby.  Right now, he is pretty excited about Baby.  He is greatly hoping for a girl.  Today, he has an older friend over playing with him.  This boy is 8.  And Caeden announced at lunch time, right in front of his older friend, "I hope that I get a sister, because then I can play Barbies with her."  Fortunately his friend replied "I used to play Barbies with my sister."

No point in mentioning that even if Baby is a girl, by the time she wants to play Barbies, Barbies will be the LAST thing on Caeden's mind.  Barbies will not be fun, but will be the supreme test of sibling loyalty and love...

Baby might not be around to play Barbies, either. 

And I am going to say something shocking.  I am excited to think this baby could be healthy, and to think of Caeden playing peek a boo, and patty cake, and stacking blocks with Baby and all those things.  And I am ALSO excited to think about Caeden learning gentleness, patience, and unconditional love if Baby can not ever to any of those things.  I feel blessed at the thought of a healthy sibling for him.  And I feel blessed at the thought of a sibling that will teach him other, different lessons.  Because  (The Lord is on my side, I will not be afraid) either way my son will be blessed.  He will just be blessed differently.

As will I.  As will I.  There is a blessing coming in this child.  What sort of blessing I do not know.  And in the middle of a long, lonely night of crying, I will not feel it.  But the blessing is there, and I am trusting God in it.

P.S. If you meet me a year from now with bags under my eyes, and shoulders in tension knots, and tear stained cheeks, don't remind me I wrote this.  Just put your arms around me and hug me.  I'll remember I wrote this later.  :)

13 Weeks

Today I had an appointment with a genetic doctor.  It was not an appointment I had originally wanted.  In fact, last week Thursday when I got the call telling me about the appointment, I was pretty angry about it.  I thought when I had my Dr.s appointment on Wednesday, I had been pretty clear that I thought it was neither necessary nor helpful to go see a genetic specialist. 

After all, 1. Steve and I were keeping the baby "as is."  2. We were not willing to do any invasive testing, because invasive testing carries a risk, and see #1.  and 3. there is no non-invasive test that can tell us what we really want to know, which is if our baby has a PBD or not.

But still, I ended up with an appointment.  And as the week went on, my attitude improved.  Specially when I finally just decided to take my book of picture of Joel.  I figured if I had to listen to a whole speech about genetic testing, I could at least have the opportunity to share Joel.  And instead of feeling upset that I might have to "justify" my choice, I could feel thankful for a chance to share a different view of what this pregnancy and baby could mean.

So I went, and the appointment was a pleasant surprise to me. 

  To be fair, I expected it to be more of the same thing I got from my Dr.  Who is very kind, but appeared skeptical when I said we wanted to keep the pregnancy.  Who, even though there was an excited look on my face about the baby's heartbeat, even though I cried tears of joy at it, even though I don't think there was anything but sincere happiness when I told her we were keeping the pregnancy no matter what, STILL felt it necessary to say things like:  "well, you still might want testing so that that you can really think about the decision.  And then when the results come back, if you start to feel things are too stressful, or you start to worry about how it will affect your family, you can still change your mind."

And I thought "If I go in to Mr. Genetic Specialist and he starts saying that sort of thing to me, I will vomit."

But he didn't.  He totally took me by surprise, actually.  I didn't have to wait a minute to see him.  I went in and sat down, and you know the first thing he said to me?  He said "So, tell me from your perspective why you have this appointment to see me today?"  And after that, everything just went well.  :)

I told him that I thought I was there in order to make my Dr. feel better.  Yup, I was just honest and up front.  I explained that we were keeping the baby, and that we had been thinking about our decision for several years before we even decided to get pregnant.  We chatted about the pros and cons of doing the non-invasive screening for Down's Syndrome, Trisomy 18, etc.  And he was really up front and honest about just how many "false positives" there were if you didn't take it a step further to an amnio.  He even warned me that some women find it more worrying than helpful in the case that they were not going to test further.

The best part of it all was that he never gave me the slightest inkling that he was secretly thinking "Oh, you must not have thought this through" or "Are you in denial about the risks?" or "It's not a good decision not to test and then make a choice."  I'm pretty good at reading people, and I didn't get a sniff of that.  Instead, I really felt like he respected my decision, and trusted that I was happy with it.  I don't think he thought I was crazy, or being "forced" to keep my baby through misguided "religious" principles. 

In fact (though we both knew there are no guarantees), he said the nicest, most "You are not crazy" thing to me when I left.  He said "The odds are in your favor for a healthy baby.  If I were to lay money on it, I would have to put my money on the baby being healthy."  And even though I know that for every good statistic, there is a different stat, and that stat has a face, still, it was really nice to hear that from a genetic specialist.  And I could tell him that even if the baby were not healthy, we felt that Joel had been a blessing to us.  And I was happy to be able to say that, too.

Oh, and another nice perk to the visit was that he told me he'd be sending a letter to my Dr. outlining our discussion and decision.  (read between the lines, the issue is dealt with and closed!)  And that he would be sending a letter to Joel's genetic/metabolic specialist that said that we were expecting again.  And that was really great to know.

And isn't this really odd?  After my appointment, the pregnancy really seemed real to me.  (Maybe because something I had been dreading for months now had been dealt with.)  And a little bit exciting, I gotta say.  I think sometime this week, I will go out and do a little baby shopping.  Not too much, because we don't know boy or girl.  But just a little.  Because I find myself in the mood....

I find myself feeling very, very thankful.  Missing Joel, but so grateful for his life.  And so grateful for another chance to have a child.  God is good.

12 Weeks

So, today was back to the doctor for the real deal check up.  I can say that the good news is that my blood pressure was normal.  That surprised me.  I keep expecting it to be high!  Everything else seemed OK on preliminary exam, though of course, some results I will have to wait to get.

We heard the heart beat once again, and Caeden got to hear it too.

So the pregnancy is starting to feel more real, more like a baby really is going to arrive in April.

And today the doctor brought up the subject of my age, and testing for some of the things my age makes baby at higher risk for.  Ugh.   A talk I had been dreading.  My emotional reactions are so crazy.  I told her about Joel and what my real concern is (one in 200 for DS vs 1 in 4 for PBD).  I said it all without any tears or choking up.  And not until she got into her spiel about  the different tests, etc. did I feel tears suddenly well up in my eyes.  And then, of course, I thought, get a gripe girl!  THIS is not the time or place to cry!  And I didn't cry till I got in the car to drive home...  I cried for Joel, and I cried for baby, because I love baby and never what to let baby go either.

So today I was re-debating the issue to test or not to test.  I checked with the nicest Dr. ever, Dr. Raymond from KKI in the states who confirmed what I suspected.  There is NO non-invasive test for PBD.  And though I really, really would like to know if this baby is healthy or not before it arrives, I really couldn't take the chance that my baby would be the one in a hundred or two hundred that miscarried because of a test that is not necessary for us.

There is only one solution that I can see here.  Time.  If I wait till April, I'll know for sure.

Meantime, I may/may not be feeling better.  I still can't say for sure, still having good days/bad days.  But food does seem to slowly be regaining it's appeal.  Though my weight today was 161 lbs, just a pound or two higher than what I started with, my pants.  have.   got. to.  go.   Oh yeah.  I LOVE these jeans, but they are just not cutting it anymore.

And I feel secure enough now, to at least go out and buy a pair of pregnancy jeans.  If I can find any that fit.  All the ones loaned to me are about an inch to short.  :(    I don't want to wear flood pants for the whole pregnancy.  Anyone know any company that is sane enough to understand that even taller people get pregnant and that not everyone in the world has a 32 inch inseam???

And last of all:  YAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!  A BABY IS COMING!!!!

(I think)  ;)

Lime

Well, I am sitting here and drinking a very nice ginger ale float.  Just thought I'd share that little tidbit with you.  :)

Baby is about 11 weeks old.  Making baby about the size of a large lime.  It totally blows me away how baby could sit easily in the palm of my hand, and I'd barely notice any weight, but baby has all major organs developed, and I'd see tiny, tiny little feet and hands, eyes, ears, nose and mouth if baby were in my hand.  But I still wouldn't be able to tell, boy or girl.

Today I went to my first doctor appointment.  To sum it up, it was sort of like going to a banquet put on by Queen Esther.  Which means I went in and peed in a cup, gave blood, and had to make another appointment for next Wednesday to have the "internal exam."  In fact, my doc didn't even bother checking my blood pressure!

My doctor was, apparently, very busy today.  My appointment was for 9:15, but she didn't want into the room until about 10:20.  I had read all three magazines.  So, back again next week for the real down and dirty part of the exam.  Yaaaay... something to look forward to...

But here is the good news.  She DID take out that magical little Doppler machine and she DID find the baby's heartbeat!!!  (I gotta get me one of those!  Wonder how much they really cost, because I'd use my every single day if I had one!)  There really is a baby!  It is true, and all this suffering was actually for a good cause after all.

A heartbeat = good news!  But still not an all clear for our health as I am missing some components of the exam.  And of course, a heart beat does NOT = a healthy baby.  Just a living baby with a 95% chance of being born sometime around April 15th, according to my doctor.  At this point, I'll take it.  Any good news is good news, after all.

Now that I feel OK about looking at maternity clothes and letting people know I am pregnant and thinking about baby stuff... I wonder how it will be.  Last pregnancy let me tell you what happened those first weeks.  Those first weeks I didn't really feel worried or freaked out about if the baby might have a PBD.  Instead, those first weeks I just re-lived my pregnancy with Joel.  And I mourned Joel.  And I missed Joel.  I thought a lot about his birth, and how I had thought he was a healthy little boy. 

I suspect that the next weeks will bring more of that.  I still grieve Joel, and another baby seems to really bring those feelings out.

Do you know what I have been worried about?  Not whether baby is sick or healthy, but rather whether I will be glad if baby has a PBD, because deep inside I am trying to "replace" Joel.  Like I miss him so much and want him back so much, and I hope a baby with PBD will fill that void.  That is the dark place that I have examined ever since we decided to have another child the good ole fashioned way.

The truth is, when I think of baby, I think of baby's birth.  I think of cuddling baby and I think of dressing baby in tiny outfits and getting up all night to feed baby.  And that is as far as I can go at this time.  Because right now, that is what I want and can have. 

I'm pretty sure if baby is healthy, I will be overjoyed anyhow.  The truth is, I just have a hard time imagining baby at any stage over about three months at this time.  My big question is:  Will I need a breast pump or not?

I cried in the doc's office when we finally heard the heart beat (because it can take a little bit to find that sucker!).  I was so relieved to hear it.  So for today, I will say "Welcome Baby Lime!  Make yourself at home in there, and any time you are are ready to take over the hormone manufacture on your own, is good with me.  Then Mommy can feed you some really good food for a change.  Instead of ginger ale floats and popcorn."

Plum

There is both joy and trepidation as I type that title.  Joy, because if all is well, that is the size of the little one inside of me.  Trepidation, because I have not yet heard the heartbeat  and have all sorts of worries and fears that I shall find something horrible out at my first doctor's appointment a week from now.

So, we are 10 weeks along.  I am doing OK.  I feel really crappy.  All. Day.  Long.  I don't know how  my husband can stand my whining and whinging consistently and all the time.  This time I have a lot more nausea, along with the killer indigestion pains.  And let me say, ****warning, grossness alert**** that I have very much impressed my son with my ability to pass gas on either end.  Oh yes.  His eyes have this gleam of admiration every time.  Thank goodness I spend my days with a five year old, and not in a board room....  Many a time I have reminded myself of my grandpa.  He took Dioval and had very loud belches...

Anyhow, I feel nasty, and the only position I feel comfortable in is lying down.  And once I am down, I don't want to get up, because there is something about going from prone to standing that really brings on the nausea.  Just like brushing my teeth.  But this time I am being really clever.  I have purchased children's toothpaste, the kind you can swallow.  I don't swallow it, by the way.  But it works because it doesn't do that dreadful foaming thing that regular toothpaste does.  Foamy toothpaste really kicks in my ralphing reflex. 

Thanks to listening to me complain.  I don't suffer in silence.  I prefer to suffer in technicolour, with lots of cheering going on.  Yup.  But seriously, I know, I know.  How fortunate am I to be pregnant?  I so am.  I so am.  Don't think I don't know that.

On the other hand, I have had a hard time getting excited or looking forward to anything, because, well, so many things seem possible to have go wrong.  Not only have I been wondering and maybe almost expecting to lose the pregnancy like last time, but then there are the other crazy thoughts. 

For example:  I am feeling REALLY HUGE.  I am ready to bust out the pregnancy clothes, my regular pants are so not comfortable.  My uterus is not yet out of my pelvis, but I look 5 months pregnant.  One of the reasons I decided to come out of the pregnancy closet was that trying not to look pregnant this last week just got to be too much suffering.  I am ready for sweat pants and big shirts.  In fact, even my "comfy" elastic pants feel uncomfortable as they press on my pain-riddled intestines.  So now you know!

And so, what thoughts do I have about this?  Well, I wonder to myself if what has happened to me is that a huge tumor is growing in my abdomen.  Yup.  You heard me right.  Maybe what I think is a pregnancy is really some weird cancer that causes strange hormone reactions in my body and is filling up my abdominal cavity.   Maybe that is the real reason I feel so absolutely ill.  Because it is hard to believe, you gotta admit, that something fabulous like a baby could make you feel so much like your digestive system has a serious viral attack that just won't go away.

So I am glad I am finally headed to the doctor next week.  I am hoping there will be a heartbeat (though there might not be at 11 weeks).  I am hoping when she pokes around and investigates things I don't hear a sharply indrawn breathe with the muttered words "Good Heavens!"  I am expecting her to tell me my blood pressure is too high, because I might really be that nervous. 

It's not like I have been stressing all the way til now.  I so couldn't even believe it was real.  I couldn't stress that there was a problem with the baby because I wasn't excited about the baby because I couldn't believe there was a baby and that I was not merely suffering 5 weeks of indigestion for nothing.  I'm only stressing now because I am almost at 10 weeks and have not lost the pregnancy yet, which makes it begin to sink in...  and oddly and conversely, makes it seem that much more dangerous and precarious for bad news.

Someone said to me that if I was meant to have another baby I would.  I sure can't disagree with that.  But of course, the trouble is if you want to be meant to have a baby and then everything goes ka-blooey!  And if you really want NOT to be meant to have some strange internal cancer... ya know?  I know that God is taking care of us.  Everyday I watch Caeden walk to school, I am overwhelmed by a fierce joy in the wonderful gift God has given me in my oldest child.  Even as I still feel so blessed to have had Joel, even with all the pain.  I am abundantly blessed.  I am very grateful.  And very human.  So I can't wait until that doctor's appointment is over with.  :)  (not that it is any guarantee either, but hey, I got take it a week at a time!)

The Summer

I guess I sort of took the summer off from this blog.  And now here I am, ready to write a post, and of course now I am asking myself how to fill in that gap.

Hmmmm....

Well, I guess I will start by saying that the hormonal fluctuations involved in the miscarriage really threw me for awhile.   Yes, normally I have strong emotional reactions to things.  I like to say that I am a passionate person.  The weird thing about the month after the miscarriage was that on one hand I had an abundance of emotional reaction, but on the other hand I felt weirdly disconnected, at times....

I'll leave that for now, and say that Steve and I finally got out to PEI to visit his family this summer.  It was a good visit and Caeden loved it.  Of course, it was hard for me.  Particularly as Joel's birthday happened during the visit, so there was that plus all the thinking about him NOT being with us on our first trip out in five years.

The beach was lovely, I have always loved the ocean. 

And it was really good and important for us to spend time with Steve's family.

I found some videos and pictures that my in-laws had which I had not yet seen.  That is not as strange as it sounds, because when Nana and Papa came for visits they took TONS of pictures each time, and not all of them ended up getting to me from PEI.  So it was beautiful to find those pictures and videos that I didn't have, both of Joel and of Caeden.

I think I am starting to feel more like myself now.  Like I said, I felt strangely disconnected at times... or ... well... just not like "myself." 

Particularly when it comes to God.  I felt disconnected from things, most especially from Him.  And what troubled me at times was that I just couldn't seem to care about that.  I'm glad that seems to be over.  I'm really glad that God understands all about strange hormonal fluctuations, and about freaky human emotions, and about how often there are things that are just not good in us when it comes to relating to Him.  And He remains faithful.

So it has been a strange summer.  And now it is about over.  There is a quote I have always liked, though I no longer have any idea who said it first.  "So, I go on, not knowing.  I would not if I might.  I would rather walk in the dark with God, then go alone in the light."

I think that shall be my motto, for the months ahead...  hope I can remember it.  :)

Bad news, I'm afraid

Yes, there is no good way to say it, so, once again I am a statistic.  I am the one in ten confirmed pregnancies that end before the first trimester.  At least I am in good, if sad, company.

It happened over the course of the last week, which is why you didn't get a "ten week" update on Thursday.  I lost the pregnancy Friday night, after a worry-some and difficult and blue sort of week.

I told you at 8 weeks, thinking that at eight weeks things are looking pretty good, and plus, I'm not one of those people who like to suffer through killer indigestion, slight nausea, tiredness, food and smell aversions, monster hormonal/emotional shifts, all in silence.  If I'm going to be tired, grouchy, and green, I feel I have a right to a formal excuse.

And the cost of sharing the information is the risk of having to later retract it.  So here I am, to say I don't need to borrow any maternity clothes after all.  :(

But we are OK.  Disappointed, but OK.  A little miffed that I had to endure 5 weeks of so much discomfort for nothing.  And of course, sad too.  It is, for lack of a better word, a real bummer.

So back to square one, and now it will be EVEN harder.  As if it wasn't hard enough being pregnant and not stressing about the future... (yikes, I might be feeling sorry for myself.  Deep down, I do know that I am actually very blessed)  If I get pregnant again... it's going to feel different.

Which means that if, several months from now, you see me tired, grouchy, and green with a furrow in my brow and a cautious manner, you might have an idea what is going on.  That is about as positive as I can muster today.

And to say that though these sorts of events are confusing when it comes to understand what the good Lord is up to, I am still saying that God is good.  All the time.  Just thought you should know.

Week Nine

Week nine.  Baby is the size of an olive.  That is all,  just an olive.  But if you look at the pics, it is amazing to see someone so small look so much like a baby.

Olive continues to affirm his/her presence by wreaking havoc on  my digestive system.  Oh yeah.  But there is still a part of me that does not believe.  In fact, since the indigestion has ramped up, I feel disbelief that this is actually caused by a baby.  I keep expecting to find that I have lost the pregnacy, because surely all the pain and discomfort is more in keeping with a miscarriage then a healthy pregnancy.  At times my stomach cramps have even almost seemed like that sort of onset of labour type feeling...

That's how my thinking works.  But so far, so good.  Maybe if I can finally hear a heartbeat, it will seem real.  But that remains doubtful for a while.  I go to see my mid-wife right after I hit week ten.  Most of the time, that is too soon to find the heartbeat.  Bummer.  That means waiting for another 4 or 5 weeks until my next appointment.

On Monday, it was the year anniversary of my Dad's death.  My mom spent the day at my house, and in the evening we went to the graves.  It really didn't seem real to me.  I can't believe that it has been a year since my Dad died.  Though Father's Day was a harder day for me than Monday.  Father's Day was quite difficult.  It was very sad for me.

I thought I had a lot to say.  Now I find I don't .  Still, I will try and keep everyone apprised of the situation as the weeks go on.  Not that my pregnancy is going to be that interesting (at least, I hope NOT!).  But still.  It's more for me than you.  I can't remember much of my pregnancy with Joel.  This time, I want a place to remember it all, and how it felt. 

News

OK, I guess I'm ready to post this here on the blog.  Deep breath.  Yes, I am pregnant. 

As of today, I am at 8 weeks.  Baby is the size of a pinto bean.  Still early days.  First appointment with the mid-wife is in two weeks.  But I thought I might as well put the info on the blog and be official. 

It took two pregnancy sticks, a coupla weeks, and the onset of some very bad indigestion for me to start to believe I am pregnant.  I've only just started to be brave enough to glance at baby things and maternity clothes.

Which, I am afraid, I am going to need very soon.  It is always so embarrassing to me, how quickly I just balloon out!  I have only gained the "normal" pound or two, but I already feel as big as a house and have my belt buckle back a notch.  And I did mention the indigestion, right.  That it was REALLY BAD.

But really, I guess some of you want to know the real "nitty-gritty" of it.  How am I doing feelings-wise?

As I said, I could not believe I was pregnant, specially not so quickly.  I have not been stressed out really at all.  Partly due to disbelief.  You can't be stressed out about something that you can't believe is true... right?

And I am just, at this time, feeling peaceful about it all.  The worst odds I face are 1/4 chance that little Pinto Bean has a PBD.  I feel, at times, both happy and sad.  I am happy because I hope I shall get to hold another baby in my arms.  I am sad when I look at baby items that my baby might not be able to use.

I'm sort of living "in between" two different realities.  I'd like to get excited about all things baby, but I can't go there.  It might not happen.  So I am trying to focus on the things that remain for us with baby, healthy or not.  Baby will be tiny, and cute, and cuddly.  Baby will wear cute little outfits, and keep my from sleep.  Baby will learn to smile, and that will light up our hearts.  These are the things I allow myself to dwell on and be excited about.

On the days when I can believe that it is really happening.  Because some days I just can't believe that it really is.

Oh, and if you don't have a due date calculator handy, I am officially "due" on Feb. 2nd.  But I know better than that.  My babies come early.  So my personal prediction is that baby will come on January 25th.  ;)

This week was planting week.  I planted "Joel's" flower bed at our house, and then I planted his "garden" on his grave.  Thought I'd put up some pics for those who are interested.

So, here is a picture of Joel's name, planted in the front bed at our house.  The roses are looking awesome.  Once the flowers get established and fill out a bit, I'll put up another pic, because you should (hopefully) be able to read the name more clearly.

Right after I planted this bed, I went in and had a real eye-buster type cry.  It was a "good" cry.  I love my boy as much as ever.  And I still miss him.  I'm glad to see his name in those flowers, each day.  Just like his name is also in my heart, each day.

Here is his grave site, right after I planted it.  The perenials came up nicely from last year.  If the weather is right, it should grow and fill in nicely.  I'm looking forward to that.  I love coming to see his "garden."

News

Joel's "day" went well, if you can say that.  We watched some videos, we went to his grave and put up a new wind chime.  We cried.  And in the evening, a few close friends came by to pray and sing with us.  It was a good way to spend a day.

The hardest moment, which surprised me, came that night as I got into bed.  At that moment, I felt as if it were just happening, that first night of climbing into bed without Joel there with us.  The overwhelming sense of loss, of missing his presence there with us in the room... I wondered how I would fall asleep.  And remembered back to the day he died and wondered in amazement that I had indeed been able to fall asleep that night, and the nights after.  But I did.  And on that anniversary night I did fall asleep too, after I mourned a bit more the son that is missing...

And now I have some news to share.  Something that Steve and I have been thinking about, and praying about, and working through for quite a while now.  We have decided that we will try for another baby.

Sometimes people refer to this as "playing the baby lottery."  Taking a "chance" that our child will not be healthy.  Well, I understand what they mean.  Steve and I would both very, very much like to have a healthy child.

But I have decided, for me, that "baby lottery" doesn't apply.  It's only a lottery if you can lose.  :)  I write this with caution.  I don't want to make anyone else feel badly or hurt them because trying for another baby when you have lost a child, or have one that is ill, well, it is a painful topic.

I know.  I have gone all the way from "I'd never choose to have another pregnancy that would risk a PBD" to now saying that I will be...happy? to have another one.  I understand the pain involved in this.  Well, honestly, there is still pain involved for me.  I'm hardly going to be escaping any pain if we get pregnant with a child who is terminally ill.

It has been an interesting progression in my own heart and mind to reach this choice.  I realized that I did truly believe in my heart that Joel's life had been mostly happy.  That his life was a huge blessing to me was never a doubt, but in spite of the sickness and suffering, I am sure he was happy to live.  And as I truly believe that he is now safely, joyfully, in heaven with God...well, how was it not worth it?

Then it was Caeden holding me back.  I just thought "How could I ask Caeden to have another sick sibling?"  But as time has gone on, I have changed my thinking on that as well.  I won't bore you with all the details, indeed, some of it is hard to explain... it's so "instinctive," but I just felt that perhaps in the end what was important was not whether or not he had a sibling either healthy or ill, but more how his parents parented him, and what place God has in our home.

And then, when those two reasons were out of the way... well, then it really hit me.  I was afraid.  Very afraid.  I realized that I (me personally) had no reason not to have a baby... other than the fact that having another dying child scared the poop out of me.  In a sense, it still does.  I hope I have never given the impression that loving and caring for a sick and dying person is easy in any way. 

But I remembered that I didn't do it in my own strength the first time.  I had lots of help from friends and family.  But most of all, I had help from God.  "The Lord is my Helper, I will not be afraid..."

And I thought about it.  Which was the option I truly wanted the least?  There are three things that could happen.  1. we could have a healthy child (yes, my favorite option)  2. we could have another child with a PBD, or 3. we would have no baby at all.  And I realized that option 3 was the one I LEAST wanted.

Now you might be wondering what happened to the adoption option?  Well, it is on the side burner for now.  We will see.  Right now, we can not afford a private adoption which is the most likely way to adopt a baby.  Going through "the state," well, chances of a baby are pretty slim, this year there were only 4 adoptions of children under a year old in my province.

And when it came to adopting an older child... it's a lot of explanation as well, so let me just say that for our family as a whole, at this time, it just is not the right choice.  Things can change, of course.  But adopting an older child can be pretty challenging.  I have seen that in real life so to speak.  And we are not ready for that at this time, and there is no guarantee we will ever be.

So when I realized that if it were to go on being just Steve, Caeden and I... well... that I think 10 years from now I would regret that we didn't try to add another child to our family... when I realized that I would rather love a child, care for a child, stress over a child, hurt and sorrow over a child, and lose that child, then not have that baby at all...

it just seemed like the right choice would be to try for a baby and leave it in God's hands.

I can't really lose.  If we have a healthy baby - I will be ecstatic.  If we have a baby with PBD, you may still congratulate me, because I am going to enjoy every precious moment I can.  There will be tears in my eyes, and they will be of both sorrow and joy.  And if we have no baby at all, then we will wait on God and see if at a later date another option for growing our family opens up.  In any case, I will go on learning to do what I am learning to do... trust in the Lord God Almighty.

I wanted to share that here.  I am asking family and friends on board with this, because I may be sad if there is no baby and I want to be able to share that sadness openly.  And of course, if there is a sick baby, I am hoping that there will be people who will still support us, even if we have choosen this.  I don't ask because I think people are in any way obligated to support us.  You are not.  I just hope that you want to.  :)

Plan for March 23rd.

March 23rd is almost here.  There has been a lot of emotion in the last couple weeks, and I have been very, very tired.

But I am ok.  Or maybe even I am good.  There are things much worse than being emotional and tired. 

I think I have decided what I'd like to do on Friday, and Steve has concurred with his usual "sounds good."  I think he thinks he is doing everything to help me, and I think that it will actually be good for him too.  :)  Thus is a good marriage made, right?

Steve's work has graciously, very graciously, allowed him the day off work.  Normal that particular day is "don't even ask, don't even think of asking" for it, but he has been treated very graciously and given the day off with pay, which was unexpected.

So we will take it easy and rest.  We will go to Joel's grave, and bring out with us a lovely new hummingbird wind chime.  And we will clean it up and fix it up.

On Friday night I have invited our church family to come over for an evening of singing and prayer.  It's a special way to remember Joel, because they came to sing to him twice before.  It is also something I'd like to do, because we will sing praise and thanks songs to God, and I would like to spend that evening just thanking God for giving me my son.  It wasn't long enough for me, but also every single day was a gift, and I am very grateful.

And we will have a prayer time too.  A special prayer time, to pray for all of the "Joel people."  Those are my special people, whom I met because of Joel.  They include medical people, and respite people and the families of other children with Joel's condition.  So if you are one of those people, we'll be thinking of you on Friday night!

I really couldn't think of a better way to spend the evening of March 23rd than thanking God and praying for people that God brought us to love, through Joel's beautiful life.

P.S.  If any of you would like to join me and my church family on Friday, you would also be welcome.  Just give me a call, so that I know who I am expecting.  :)

Various and Sundry.

This is a bunch of unrelated stuff put together into a blog because I'm not going to the "trouble" of a bunch of three line blogs... :)  If that makes sense.

So,  two words for any would be quilters out there: rotary cutter.  Wish I had realized how important one of those can be in making your quilt exact.  So now I have bit of a problem which I will have to fix.  I have a square pattern I bought with an outside measured for large squares and an inside measured for 4 smaller squares to make up the larger.  Problem is, without a rotary cutter, when you measure with a fabric pencil the outside measure is just a tad bigger and the inside measure is just a tad smaller...  But no matter.  I'll figure it out.  And get a rotary cutter...

Oh, and in answer to the question of if the quilt is to hang on the wall: No.  I already have pictures of Joel on the wall, including a lovely sketch done by Megan Benson (who has a business doing this if anyone is interested.  I think I put the link up somewhere in a previous post?).  I also have Joel's lovely wooden box sitting in my living room in exactly the spot where his playpen used to be. 

So yeah, nope, the quilt is not "on exhibit," the quilt is for me, just me.  Oh, you can see it if you come over.  I'll show it to you.  I mean that the quilt is a hands on tactile way to remember Joel.  Because I can feel the clothing in my hands...  it's not the same as feeling it when Joel was wearing it, but it is something, anyway.  So it is going to be in a place where I can feel it and cuddle it to my heart's content.

Then there is Caeden.  He's doing really, really well.  He loves numbers and is learning to add one and two to the numbers 1 -10.  And he is learning his alphabet and already knows some of the sounds of the letters quite well.  He'll be more than ready for Kindergarten in the fall, even if I won't.

He is also not cuddly anymore.  This makes me sad, even though I know it is really sort of his "true nature" and a sign that he feels secure once again...  He never was a cuddly baby at all.  Seriously, not at all.  He was an affectionate toddler, he'd come for a quick hug, but he didn't cuddle...

After Joel died, that all changed.  Each morning we'd have a cuddle on the couch.  He wanted to cuddle lots and lots.  I enjoyed that.  It was a new experience for me, and for him.  Now, he's been moving away from that.  Once again, he is affectionate, but his affection is quicksilver and brief.  He likes what is traditionally more "boy" type cuddling.  You know.  Chasing and wrestling and tickling...  And I know, in a sense, that it is a "good" sign for him.

It is doubly sad for me, though, in that Joel was always my cuddle-muffin.  He loved to snuggle, particularly with mommy.  He'd be face out from Steve's lap, playing.  But when I took him, he'd turn in and snuggle up.  So it was nice, for awhile, to suddenly have Caeden want to cuddle up.  Now I miss both cuddling Joel and Caeden... life is like that sometimes.

Joel's "deathaversary" is coming up soon.  I'm still not sure about that day or what I want to do on it, how it will feel for us, whether alone is better or not...  It's kinda hard to really know.  For one thing, this is, I am so glad to tell you, the first real "deathaversary" I have ever had to keep.  So it's kind of a big unknown. 

 And just like your wedding anniversary, you can ask a bunch of other people what they did, it might give you an idea, but it really doesn't inform your decision much, other than listing options you might have otherwise been unaware of.  And of course, just like a wedding anniversary, it will also change over time.  What you do for your first wedding anniversary is usually quite different from what you do for your 25th anniversary, thought the constant usually is that you celebrate it each year.  So, the one year after Joel's death day is kinda like that.  If you think of it like a wedding anniversary, only really sad instead of (hopefully) happy,  maybe it will help you understand how I'll never forget that day each year, but it might change over time...

I am going to admit that I have been "feeling" it coming though.  I have notice less motivation and more tiredness creeping up on me.  I know there is quite a bit of pain and sadness growing in me.  Which seems odd to me to say, because I hadn't really ever NOT had some pain and sadness.  But I know it is growing because I know the need to grieve is growing.  And one of these days I'm going to need to sit down and watch some videos and read over the blogs...

I know it is a bit hard for people to remember this.  I can understand that and I don't blame them.  That is why I just keep reminding you.  If you wonder why I keep saying "Well, in 4 weeks it is the day Joel died" or "I'm not sure how I'll be feeling then," etc, etc, it is just that I really am making sure that you don't (as I would and do) forget that day is coming and it is a heavy and meaningful day.  That day is "fully loaded."  I just want to make sure that if you phone on March 22nd and I start bawling, you don't get off the phone and later kick yourself "Oh, tomorrow is THAT day, I totally forgot."  I know some of you are super good with dates.  But some of us (like me) are not.

Last of all, I wanted to apologize for how silly I am!  I mentioned a blog or two ago that I had started a new blog, and then I NEVER TOLD YOU THE NAME!!  Silly me!  The blog is called "Treasure in Heaven" and yeah, you can see the title of a post there "Initial Thoughts about Postmodernism" and all I can say is: WHATEVER possessed me to title it THAT???!!!??  It is like I was subconsciously thinking "Hey, I don't really want anyone to read this, so how can I best discourage them?"  Yeah.  I'll have to make the titles more cute, witty and generally interesting to trick ya into reading it... ha ha ha.

Seriously, though, I sorta figure that a lot of my readers here will not really go read that blog, because if you read this one, you read it for Joel's story, and my other blog is quite different. 

"Treasure in Heaven" is a place for me to write about things that I have been slowly mulling over for the past year or so.  Many, many things.  Here is a sampling: postmodernism - ha!, reason vs experience, prayer, faith, the emerging/emergent church, authority, mediation/yoga, mysticism, the future, do you get sort of an idea?  And this is all stuff that I have been coming across and thinking about.  I wanted an outlet for my thoughts, a place to organize them, and maybe even to share them with anyone with similar interests of thought.  You are under NO obligation to read that blog, even if you are a friend or relative, though you are VERY welcome in any case.  And it is very possible that some of those topics might interest you and others not so much.  The choice is yours.  :)

I think that is about it.  I hope I didn't forget anything.

Quilt

So, I guess I better put up the promised pictures of the start of the quilt.  I'd like to say I was surprised at how very guilty I felt at cutting up some of Joel's clothes.  He has some clothing items which were beautiful, no stains, barely worn at all, and super good quality.  I felt so bad cutting them up and denying them to another child.

But I did it... After all, I did pass on a lot of his clothes from his first two year of life, and I have flickers of regret for that.  I'm not truly stewing about it, because honestly, how many memory quilts could I make if I had kept it all.  I know that is just silly.  Still, sometimes I sure wish I could look through those clothes again. 

Grief is like that.  It refuses to be satisfied.  It is a restless, complaining customer.  Why?  Well, of course, because the one and only thing that it wants off the menu is out of reach!  So you can't please it at all.  Keep the clothes?  Oh now what do I do with them?  Cut them up?  Feel bad.  Keep em in storage?  What good are they if you never see em.  Give them away to another child?  Oh, now you wish you had them.  I have realised that you can never appease or satisfy grief.  So I try and ignore those voices.

Which is why I did cut up the clothes anyway.  In the tears, there were also lots of smiles, because my son was so beautiful and so sweet and such a blessing.

I'm not a quilter or a sewer or a crafter.  Unless you count words.  I like words.  But I'm not that great at handy-type stuff.  So, this quilt is very much in progress.  Some of the pieces are a bit rough.  No, I'm not really sewing much of it together until all the squares are done.  Because I have no idea where I want things and I'm just going to make it a big puzzle at the end figure it out then what the "picture" is supposed to be. 

But the pictures will give you the idea.  And I have to admit, I love what I have so far.  I love it.  It's not going to be perfect, no.  Some of the clothes even have stains on them.  Part of the charm.  Yes.  I am not perfect, the past was not perfect, life with Joel was not perfect, and this quilt will not be perfect.  But it will be wonderful.  And I'm going to let the imperfections of the quilt just speak that for itself.

New Blog.

No seriously, I didn't mean a new post, I meant a new blog.  As in, I started one.  :)

I've been thinking a lot later (a dangerous past-time, I know) and I wanted to have a place to write about it.  I mean thinking about things that were not specifically about Joel.  And I wanted to keep this blog about the things that this blog has always been about.

So this blog is staying here and I will still be posting though as you can see, it might be more infrequently.

And my new blog is started up so that I can post about the other stuff that has been on my mind and heart. 

Thus I am writing this blog to tell you about my new blog which I will put up a link to on my sidebar.  And tell you please do NOT feel in ANY way obligated to read my new blog.  I know that many (most?  all?) of you read this because you are interested or sharing a similar experience with grief and loss.  And this new blog is really not about that per Se.  You don't owe me anything, in fact, I feel more like I owe you for sharing Joel with me.

So feel free to check out my new blog, and then read it if you are interested or never go there again if you are not.  I mean that!  :)

In fact, I don't expect many readers, and I'm OK with that.  I'm just putting it out there.  Why am I putting it out there if I don't expect many readers?  I needed to?  I felt "led" to?  It was on my heart?  I don't know, but there it is.

I will be putting up a new post soon about the work I have started on Joel's memory quilt.  More later!

Schmice

Did you ever wonder about getting a package that was labelled "Loss?"  I bet you haven't.  But I have.  I've been thinking about how a "doorbell" rang for me long ago and I received a package labelled "Loss."  In fine print there was a note attached that said "This loss package may contain some or all of the following: grief, sorrow, pain, anger, confusion, depression, fear, suffering, self-pity, feelings of worthlessness, sleeplessness, resentment, longing, moodiness, self-preoccupation, loss of memory/forgetfulness, regret, emptiness & aches, etc, etc."

Seeing this label attached, you might think, "Well, this is bad, but at least I know what I am getting into here."  And in a sense, that is good, because otherwise you'd think insanity was part of the package, but now at least you know that you are reacting "normally" to the situation at hand.  Ha ha ha...

Here is what the label does not tell you.  It does not tell you that the form that these "ingredients" come in is living creatures.  It does not tell you that Grief is a cat, as I have already written about.  And it does not tell you about the Schmice.  Yup.  The Schmice.  You heard it right.

Because when I opened up that package, a horde of little rodent-like vermin poured out and dashed away into the nooks, crannies, and dark places of my home.  When I say "a horde" then picture a large box loaded with wee mouse-like creatures, like maybe a hundred of them, and once the box is opened, like Pandora, you just watch them race out helplessly.

So now you share your home with a group of schmice.  They reproduce.  You get rid of them when and as you can.  But full on extermination is not possible, because you live in your house and the toxins needed to do this are harmful to you and your family.  You also need to go on with life.  And so you do so, getting rid of schmice here and there as you can.

As with all rodents, they prefer to come out at night, or in the very quiet and still moments.  When the lights are on and the house is noisy and busy, they stay away.  In fact, as time goes on and the schmice prove harder to get rid of than anyone else seems to have expected, a temptation comes to you.  Which is to just keep the house loud, busy, noisy and bright and ignore the existence of the schmice altogether.  Live and let live as the saying goes.

Of course, the problem is that everyone also needs peace and quiet and rest time.  No one can fill there house with noise all the time and ignore the vermin.  Also, the schmice leave evidence of their passing living by leaving droppings in cupboards and a certain "aroma" in the laundry room. 

Still, the temptation to ignore them is strong...  It is hard to turn down the lights, get quiet and watch schmouse after schmouse pop out it's wee head and scurry about.  To take the time and try to catch them one after one...   It is hard, but necessary too, for the sake of having a good, healthy home.

And people phone from time to time and ask "How things are going?"  Maybe they are asking about the schmice, but they are too polite to directly inquire.  I don't know.  The thing is, most of the time that people do ask in veiled ways about the schmice in my house, they ask at a time when the lights are on, and the house is noisy.  You know I am not talking about my literal house.  I'm talking about my life.  They call when there is activity all around me, or ask when they see me "out and about." 

And in that moment, my mind is far away from the schmice.  In fact, not a schmouse is in sight if I glance around.  Too noisy, to bright, too busy.  Hmmmm..... I'm really not sure what to say.  The schmice are still there I know.  How many of em?  Not sure at this moment.  What seems like a hoard at one moment, in the light of day seems like nothing but a few droppings here and there.  Know what I mean?  Schmice populations are variable and difficult to monitor.

I can just give general answers.  Yes, still got em, thanks for caring enough to ask.  Still know they are there.  Still dealing with them.  That much I can tell you.  And yes, life is still going on, as you can see.

But if you actually REALLY want to know about the schmice, if you really want to KNOW it, not just about it in generalities, then there is only one thing to do.  Come into my house.  Sit down at my table.  We'll turn the lights and noise down.  We'll be quiet and thoughtful for awhile.  And slowly, wee heads will start to pop out.  After a time, the schmice will come out to scamper about.  And it might be a bit uncomfortable.  You might not be too fond of vermin or rodents.

But it will also be real.  You will understand, just for that moment, what a schmice infestation is really like.  You understand some of the true state of my house.  You'll see some of the difficulties in what happens here.  My schmouse problem will not be theoretical or vaguely general anymore.  Maybe a schmouse or two will even scurry over your shoe.  Your understanding will be based on something you have seen for yourself.

In the coming months, the tide of the schmiceschmice.

I'm just letting you know that.  Rodent populations are known to fluctuate and often after a big surge in growth, they suddenly die out and dwindle into a small population.  I'm telling you for a few reasons. 

One is so that you are not unduly alarmed if you see this happen.  How could it not be so?  If you are surprised, it is only because you do not know what those last months of Joel's life were like or how deeply, how deeply the pain went.  There are a lot of schmice there.

Another reason is because it is an invitation for you, if you like, to come over to my house, to sit quietly with some tea and some lights turned down, and be with me while I catch the schmice.  This is not a job for everyone.  I understand that.  This is the sort of invitation I give, believing that the "right" people for the job will be the ones who would respond.

And if know one does respond, then I also know something else.  I know that my God is sufficient for me in the times that other people are not.  I know He will be with me when the schmice come out to play.  And He will be enough, if the schmice scare everyone else away.