Month: July 2012

A song for my heart

| Stacy

Another woman, who is grieving for the daughter she can not know on earth, shared this song on her blog today.
And I stole it.

The group Selah wrote the song in honor of their lead singer and his wife losing their daughter two hours after her birth, as the doctors had predicted during the pregnancy.

Hurts bigger than mine.  People grieving transparently.  Grace.

I Will Carry You
There were photographs i wanted to take
Things i wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this?
People say that i am brave but i`m not
Truth is i`m barely hanging on
But there`s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this
So i will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And i will praise the One who`s chosen me
To carry you
Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But i know
That the silence
Has brought me to his voice
And He says
I`ve shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?
I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And i will praise the one who`s chosen me
To carry you

Oh – Amen and Amen.

24 days

| Stacy
Or maybe I should title this, “Not the title I wanted.”

Or perhaps, “He gives and takes away.”

For the last 24 days I had imagined a time or two how I might write the revealing blog entry.  I’d decided I’d title it, “Good Good News News,” and have the text start out with, “Johanna Johanna gets gets to to be be a a big big sister sister.”  The clever blog-reader would realize that I was trying to say we were expecting twins, which I would go on to confirm.
I’m not writing that entry.
“His ways are not our ways” seems so pat.  It’s no less true the more you say it, but the more you say it, the less it helps, in my opinion.
JesusWithBabyToday, at the 10 week ultrasound (my compassionate doctor ordered knowing that I needed an extra peek), we learned that one of our babies is growing well, measuring appropriately, and has a steady, strong heartbeat.  We learning our other baby is already in the arms of Jesus. 
Another miscarriage.  Another loss.  Another baby I don’t get to know here on earth.  And still a baby to hope for.  Talk about weird place to be emotionally.
Now, I’ll go back and tell the story in order.
About 7 weeks ago I was sure it was again not going to be our month.  We were preparing for our trip to Sesame Place and I’d taken a test (albeit early) that dashed my hopes.  Discomfort in my abdomen further discouraged me.  We headed on our super fun trip and I remember thinking how nice it was to have that as a distraction from my disappointment.  Two days into our trip it dawned on me maybe the test was not right.  Sure enough, after we got home, I found out we were once again expecting. 
I worked hard the next three weeks to keep my thoughts captive.  After back-to-back miscarriages I was a little concerned.  But I really didn’t want to deny myself the chance to be happy, or to deny the reality of the baby.
On July 2nd, early in the morning, I had an ultrasound.  I had been pretty calm and peaceful the days prior to the U/S. On the way to the U/S I started freaking out just a little. I was wrestling with my Self and talking to God. I asked Him to send music – to pick songs out just for me. He did that in the days after the first miscarriage. He did it on the way home from the second miscarriage. And He did so on 7/2.  I can’t even tell you the name of the song I heard that was just filled with Truth that spoke to my heart. It was a song I’d heard many times before but never LISTENED to. Can’t remember it. Then two songs later they played, “Some Good Advice,” by Justin Unger. When Johanna was a few months old I heard it on the radio and decided that if we ever had another child, that was the song we would use for his/her dedication. After the first miscarriage, the song hurt to hear. Hurt a lot. After the second miscarriage, I no longer heard the song like a parent to a child, but as GOD to ME. And it has soothed me. Still – every time I hear it, I think “dedication.” God knows this. On the way to the U/S after I ASKED HIM to have the music minister to me, I just felt like God would not hurt me now. I asked for songs, this song means so much to me, but it means “baby” to me. He wouldn’t send it moments before I was to be crushed.

I have to tell you, I was 51% thinking it was miscarriage again, and 49% sure it was twins. 

The first few minutes in the waiting room my heart was pounding, etc. And then God gave me the KINDEST ultrasound tech, Yoom. She was so merciful as she immediately showed me living baby. Then a few minutes later she said, “Two? How’s two?” and I just gasped, “Praise God,” “Oh, Thank you, Jesus.” There was no shock. None at all. Just a gift revealed.  God had been preparing my heart for it.   When I was left alone, I just got on my knees and thanked Him.

I went to the sun-drenched benches outside the building and called John.  I basked in the tremendous joy I was feeling. 
That was 24 days ago.
It is amazing how much hoping, daydreaming, and planning you can do in 24 days.
For the last 24 days I’d been thinking up pairs of names.
I’d been reading online about just how big I am going to get.
I had totally accepted that my preference for au natural birthing would take a back seat.
I planned how we’d rearrange rooms, how we’d need another stroller, how we’d manage with two high chairs.
I REJOICED.I felt special.  I thought something like, “Yes, God knew how much our other losses were going to hurt us, be He also knew that He had this special birth planned for our family.”  I felt chosen for something cool.
I caught myself giggling out of place at times.  Delighted by my secrets.  TWO babies.  God was giving us TWO.  Oh the miracle!

My appetite has been tremendous.  My exhaustion, daunting.  My joy… off the chart. 

I did have one panic attack.  The first night I worried how we’d manage.  The LORD set my worldly concerns to rest, however, and never once, NEVER ONCE did John, nor I, wish it was only a singleton. 
I expected I would keep it a secret until I was at least 12 weeks.  I’d hoped I could keep it HIDDEN that long. 
Tuesday afternoon, the perinatal department from Unity called and left a message.  Marie heard it.  Yes, it seems my 8 year old knows what perinatal means.  She asked John if Mommy was pregnant.  He avoided answering her by asking her other questions and dodged it altogether.  Last night at dinner, however, she asked again.  I tried to smokescreen her by joking, “What!?  Are you saying I look fat? Huh?” and the conversation turned.  I felt guilty however.  And as the meal went on I finally reopened the conversation and confirmed what she thought.  My goodness.  What a delight it was to see their joy.  Tabitha’s face just lit up as she realized what we were saying.  She wrapped her arms around me and professed pure joy.  Marie was an animated, um, Marie. 

I turned my attention to Stewart and asked him.  He said, “I just don’t want to get my hopes up.”  Oh, son.  I do understand that feeling. 

I turned to Nigel and asked what he thought.  He beamed, “I’m happy.” 

I asked, “Do you want to be doubly happy?” 

At that point my mom, who was having dinner with us, jumped from her seat and said, “Twins? Twins?! I dreamt you were having twins.  Oh, Stacy.”  More joy. 

At some interval, Tabitha came over to me, put her hands on me, and prayed for the babies.  That they would be healthy and not die.  My sharp-tongued, anger-problem, 6-year-old prayed for me on her own. 
The giddiness ensued all evening as the kids took to calling them “Ducky,” and “Quackers.” 
This morning I prepared for my ultrasound, as well as other errands.  I did not have any fear.  On the way there I did pray that the LORD would be with me.  I was excited to see their hearts again and make sure they were both growing evenly. 
The sonographer today was not as warm as Yoom.  She wondered why I was even having a 10 week ultrasound as that is not the norm.  I quietly shared I’d had two recent miscarriages and the doctor wanted close tabs. 
She got to work measuring baby BBBB as she called him/her.  Heart rate was 160.  Length was exactly perfect.  Sac looked good.  Then she wooshed her wand over the other side.  And quickly wooshed back to “relabel” the first baby.  She changed the BBBB to AAAA.  I had already figured it out by the wand’s pass by the other sac.  It looked blah.  The baby was smaller, more faded in appearance.  She confirmed there was no cardiac activity.  She was a little friendlier then.  She didn’t say anything pat, or cold.  She didn’t say much except to point out a few more times how good the one baby looked.  Dr. Daniel Grace, the most magnificent perinatologist in the world was on vacation.   Some visiting doctor, Dr. Jacobson, had to come in and tell me the good news and the bad news.  She was very sensitive and again, didn’t try to comfort me with empty words, “At least you have one baby,” etc.  As I left the room, Yoom, the other sonographer from my last visit came out to me, I held up one finger and she nodded so sadly, and came and hugged me.  She lead me to a room and gave me tissues and spoke kindly, skipping the, “At least you…”  She acknowledged how heart breaking this is and how sorry she was to hear our news.  Dr. Jacobson said she would call up to Dr. Tripp’s office before I got up there so they would know.
My doctor’s nurse Laurie greeted me with a hug.  Minutes later Dr. Tripp did, also.  They were genuinely sad with me. 
My mind is trying to go back to “normal pregnant lady” mode.  Trying to flesh out the good news.  I do not need to be as concerned about prematurity.  Or c-section.  I won’t have a typical miscarriage with cramping, bleeding, passing.  Yeah.  That’s good, of course.  But doesn’t really take the sting away.
I’ve lost another baby.  I am still growing a baby.  This is so stinking weird.
I instantly went from hoping it was twin boys to hoping it is a girl.
I don’t understand why God prepared my heart for twins and then took one away.
The kids were sad.  Oh my goodness.  That isn’t a good enough word.  One of them had to leave the room and bury their face in their pillow.  Another doesn’t understand why God keeps letting our babies die. 
You think I’d be getting better at these answers.

Satan wants me to think things now…. ugly lies.  “You really thought God would give you two, you fool?  He’s probably going to take the other one, too, you know.”  “If you hadn’t drank so much soda, your baby would be alive, still.”  “If you hadn’t stopped going to acupuncture, your baby would still be growing.”  “If you weren’t so busy, you wouldn’t have killed your baby.” 

OH BOY – are you still reading? 
I didn’t turn the radio on on my way home.  I didn’t want songs.  I wanted silence. 
Under normal circumstances I would never dream of sharing pregnancy news at 10w 2d!  Ever!  I’d go as long as I could.  (And my record is 17 weeks!)  Now, I’m posting it on a blog?
So, um, friends.  I have good news.  We are expecting another baby.
But it was gooder news for 24 days.
My bloggy friends exist on a different plane that the outside world.  I’m not on facebook, and ask that no one shares this there.  I’d prefer my co-workers not talking about it yet.  And I don’t plan any mass email, or announcement or prayer request at church.  If you are reading this, thank you for your prayers.  I’m still unpeeling the layers of this grief, while trying to maintain JOY for the life we are still hopeful for.  John & I really wanted these two special siblings.  We covet your prayers.  And your discretion.
Thanks.

Why we’re up at night?

| Stacy

vt_bob_larryLast night as we were saying our family bedtime prayers the kids heard me pray that Johanna would return to her previously excellent sleeping habits, and that the LORD would grant her peace from whatever is causing her to wake at night and be inconsolable.  They asked what could be bothering her; was it nightmares?  Without getting into the whole possibility of sleep terrors (she doesn’t really fit the classic diagnosis) we did concede that it could be nightmares, although it likely was just a growth spurt of sorts.  Tabitha did not miss a beat, nor did she wait to hear us explain one iota more.  She immediately stated, “I know what could be giving her nightmares.  You know how much she loves Bob and LarLar? Right? Well, these days Daddy has been peeling a lot of cucumbers and cutting a lot of tomatoes.  Maybe she thinks he is killing Bob and Larry.

There is really nothing else for me to type, now, is there?

They ruined our Target, and other babbling…

| Stacy

 

  • They ruined Target.  They added produce, etc.  No… I have nothing against fresh food.  But the store didn’t get any larger.  They had to cut things to get the food in there.  This means a shoe department about one-third of the previous size.  The toddler clothes are about two-thirds of its previous size.  And toys – well, all the cool, educational-style, better-made, wood, etc. toys are gone.  And really.  This is Victor, NY.  Most of the clients in the area aren’t walking to Target.  Frankly, I doubt any are.  The closest houses are in the $400,000 range!  Most folks that frequent Target are getting to their local Wegmans on a regular basis without any problems.  And who buys bananas at 24¢ each?  EACH?

  • You can’t buy a cold ginger ale at Wal•Mart.  Just before Johanna and I went to Target, we were at Wal•Mart.  I really wanted a cold ginger ale.  See, I have a really nasty canker sore.  And today when I drank Pepsi it bothered my canker sore and my mouth.  But I had it in my head that ginger ale would taste great.  They had to have 9 coolers of soda at Wal•Mart, but not a single one had a cold ginger ale.  If you like ginger ale, then you know that Sierra Mist and Sprite are not the same.  7•Up isn’t even the same, but it wasn’t like they had any of those in the coolers, either.  Sprite always makes me feel car sick (even if I am not driving anywhere – it goes back to road trip days to Canada with my parents and warm Sprite in those heavy glass bottles you could hit your teeth on, with the labels we would peel off but then you couldn’t return them), and Sierra Mist is just watered down Sprite.  I did see a “Citrus Flavored Drink” called mello yello (their spelling and lack of capital letters – not mine) that looked a little bit like Squirt.  It was the only thing that I thought I might be able to substitute for ginger ale.  It was yummy, and despite the “citrus flavor” it did NOT hurt my canker like the Pepsi did.  The down fall was I had that annoying song, “They call me mellow yellow,” stuck in my head all the way to Target.

If you are still reading, you are clearly bored, fascinated by the possibility that I have lost my mind, or too tired to click the X on the top right of your screen.

  • I was elated this week to discover that the horrid summer allergies I thought I had developed was actually a head cold.  The prospect of adding summer allergies to my fall allergies was very, very discouraging.  The idea of blowing my nose and babying headaches until November was daunting.  It suddenly occurred to me Wednesday evening that perhaps I had a COLD.  As I am feeling considerably better now, I have found I am correct.  And I am so grateful.
  • I am throwing a baby sprinkle in two weeks.  I am buying games, and decorations, and favors, and a helium tank.  Did you know that there is a helium shortage?  This boggles my mind.  What originally was just me being annoyed when I couldn’t find a balloon at the Dollar Tree for Nigel’s birthday has now gotten me a bit concerned.  MRI machines need helium, yet some scientist believe the gas will be completely used up in the next 30 years.  Okay – by concerned, I don’t mean this will keep me up at night.  By concerned I mean, gosh, how annoying that here is another resource we are just draining away with no back-up plan.
  • I spent 6 hours and $241 dollars on the computer today preparing for school next year.  And I am far from done.  I think this explains my punchiness. 
  • When the kids were at VBS this week, Johanna and I ate at Panera not once, not twice, but three times.  We need a 12-step program.  I even got a myPanera club card.  Seriously, if you have ever eaten their Cinnamon Crunch bagel with plain cream cheese you wouldn’t wonder why Hanny insisted we stop daily.  😉

On the move…

| Stacy

“Mama and I have been in the car a lot this week. We take the kids to the big white church we like and they get to stay. I have to leave with Mama. I don’t get it. We used to go there altogether for classes and I saw all my friends. So when we leave I fuss a little.

She and I do different things. We drive around a lot and go to lots of stores. We eat snacks, too. That’s fun. Today we went with some other people to a place with round things that taste like cinnamon. Mom spread soft cheese on it, and I had to chew and chew. And as I chewed and chewed, I chewed my finger. I cried alligator tears and was mortified. It was awful.

Then we drove more and more. I like doing things with Mama. She lets me walk in the parking lots and we take our time. She stops to blow her nose a lot. Something she calls allergies. I’m glad I don’t have them.

I wonder where we will go tomorrow. “

It has to be said.

| Stacy

I should be doing other things this morning in the few minutes of time I have.  But this post has to be written. 

In the last few weeks I have received a large number of comments from people on how much they love my blog.  They smile as they recognize the joy my family experiences and I hear comments like, “I don’t know how you do it,” and “You are amazing,” and “Your kid have the best life.”  Really.  I hear these things.  I always point out that for the most part I only blog the highlights.  I only confess to a rough day or a crying spell every so often, and the miscarriage posts were clearly specific.  Yes, my family does a lot of fun things.  But our life is not perfect.  In fact, I feel very much like it is spinning out of control at times.

To illustrate, I am going to look back at the last week and look ahead to this next week.  If you are still standing at the end of the post, YOU, my friend, are amazing!

Last Monday – After we did some morning school, we were blessed to have a play date with new friends and I caught up with the mom (who I have known) for the first time in a year.  After they left I tried to do a little house work and start dinner before my mom came over at 3:30PM.  My mom has summer hours and I practically tagged her as Nigel and I left the house to go get his annual birthday-time photos at JCP.  (I had only gotten Johanna’s, 5 weeks late, the night before.)  I ran him to Kmart after his photos.  Home for late dinner, clean up kitchen, and call it a day.

Tuesday –  Another morning I attempted school with Tabitha and the kids did a bit on their own.  After that I tried to fit in a week’s worth of house cleaning while the kids bickered, disobeyed, and tried to manipulate one another to the point that they lost the privilege of going to Darien Lake Wednesday as planned.  There were tears and sad hearts that I had to leave at 2PM when I left for work.  It was an ugly day.

Wednesday – seemed like a good day – I even posted about it.  Still – it was BUSY.  We picked berries in the AM (watch for more on this in a few minutes).  Kids played all day long, nicely, as I tried to chip away at the work in the house.  What work do you ask?  The stuff that is threatening to swallow me at times.  The dining room project still unfinished and going on week 6.  The stuff piled into the pantry that needs to be rehung around the house from other paint projects.  The two bags of clothes given to us for the girls that have been sitting for four weeks.  The laundry room that is impenetrable.  STUFF.  And that doesn’t begin to address paper work that needs to be done.  Oh – and I had to run out after dinner to find something for my daughter’s birthday Friday.  Yes – somehow birthdays sneak up on me.  I am not proud of it.  And I don’t want to spend money just to spend money.  But I want her to open something.

Thursday – the good day yesterday made me jump to go to Darien Lake today.  Forecast was good.  No weird concerts.  It was fun for the most part.  But still – BUSY. 

Friday – was a mess.  Should I tell you how I shaved off part of my finger making apple pies for Marie’s birthday?  How we had a field trip at 1PM.  How I didn’t have the right cheese for the macaroni and cheese that my daughter requested for her birthday.  How I didn’t have enough evaporated milk to triple the recipe and servings were slim.  How I didn’t have wrapping paper for her gifts.  How I FORGOT TO PLUG IN THE CROCKPOT and dinner was a sloppy mess that I tried to bake in the oven.  How I cried my heart out in the kitchen and my son asked if another baby died in my tummy.  How I can’t even walk thru the pantry to get to silverware.  How we couldn’t find Johanna’s bathing suit anywhere and then found it in a toy car in the yard and we NEVER STOPPED MOVING ALL DAY.  How at 8PM I sat down for the first time all day and was at the computer to post about Darien Lake and forgot to put the kids to bed.  And how I cried myself to sleep.

Saturday was a fun day – Civil War reenactment.  Bet you know how much work I addressed at home that day.  (Zero.)

Why am I so upset about the house not getting attended to?  Well – it has been at least two months since I mopped the kitchen floor.  I am not making that up.  I haven’t cleaned my shower in probably 9 months.  Really.  I won’t go on.  You’d be afraid to come over.

Sunday – Sunday was supposed to be make cookies for friend’s brother/son’s funeral, make Marie’s party cake, and make jam from our berries.  I didn’t have quite that much to do as our berries from Wednesday had gotten moldy.  Had to toss them all.  Yes.  That is my life.  See I couldn’t make them before now because I had no sugar – and no time anyway.  I did manage a nap and some laundry room clean up Sunday.

This week – I’ll be briefer. 

Monday – kids have VBS all week.  Stewart is a helper.  It is his responsibility, of course, but as he is still 11, I feel some sense to help him prepare, etc.  We are having an impromptu birthday party for Marie – and I forgot – yes FORGOT – some little girls I should have invited.  Yes – I did.   Sad smile  Marie wants games and maybe I will have some time today to find one or two.  She wanted a sack race.  Will pillowcases work?  I had to spend $10 and BUY a pinata because I had no time to make one.  What a waste.  Sad smile

Tuesday – VBS and I have to work.  My mom has to watch the kids because none of my sitters were available.  That stresses me out a little.

Wednesday – I am making 20 lbs. of pulled pork to feel 30-some missionaries in Palmyra on Thursday.  This will take time.  I also need to make cole slaw.  It will take two hours for me to pull this meat.  Confused smile

Thursday – VBS – deliver meal – kids dinner and concert at VBS.

Friday – if I make it to Friday I will go to garage sales in the morning and have a friend come over at lunch time to help plan a baby shower for another friend. 

Do you feel stressed reading this, or is it just me?

I also have to have the kids’ In-Home Instruction Plans submitted to the school district by August 1st.  For four kids.  I HAVEN’T EVEN ORDERED THEIR BOOKS YET FOR NEXT YEAR.  I have NO IDEA what we are doing for science even!  I have to write out Nigel’s curriculum as he is in a gap year for the program we use.  When?  When?

I am sure some readers will shake their heads.  And they will be right to point out this is all stuff I have done to myself.  Sure – I’ve had people suggest to cut things out.  Oh, that sounds so easy.  What do I cut out?  Do I not make cookies for the funeral?  Do I not feed the missionaries that I signed up to feed two months ago? Do I not go to work?   Do I not take my kids places and offer them things like war reenactments so that I can clean the pantry? Do we let the free tickets to Darien Lake expire so I can clean the shower?  Do I not throw my friend a baby shower?

I am not complaining.  I am not looking for answers.  I am just trying to be authentic. 

If you read this blog and smile, I am blessed.  We do have fun.  We love each other.  We get to do really cool things.

But I am NOT amazing.  There is a price being paid. 

An extra post

| Stacy

Because I like this picture.
She wasn’t ready to get up from her nap yesterday. And I could understand. I was overdue for some sleep, too.
I’m burning the candle at both ends and I’m weak in the middle. I’m on overdrive and ready for a pit stop.
A few minutes on the bed with Riffy was a gift. And the iPod was in my pocket, so I got to record it.