Monday, May 31, 2010

knitting away

I just got back from Michael's, where I replenished my stash of yarn thanks to a 20% off coupon! I've been knitting dishcloths like crazy - first for Mother's Day gifts, and now some for my soon-to-be sister-in-law's bridal shower. Scarves are my favorite to knit (so far - still a beginner), but I only need so many. So I've been making kids' scarves and hats to donate to an elementary school when the weather grows colder. Too often, there are little ones going outside without good winter gear. There are some really fun yarns that I think kids will like. :)

Anyone else a knitter? Do you have any favorite patterns?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010

babies and more babies

Today is one of those days that just makes me sigh. Two babies of friends were born today. They both announced their pregnancies around the time I found out I was pregnant. Our babies would have been born within a couple weeks of each other. I'm no longer expecting a baby on that due date of June 5. I'm facing anticipation of a different sort. When I got home from work, my husband told me that his brother's wife is pregnant and due in January. That's a lot of baby news for one day.

It is easier for me to be excited for babyloss moms with a rainbow baby, but I guess that's because I just feel for them so muchh. I try to remind myself that I don't know what these families have faced prior to delivering these babies today, as we aren't all that close. I haven't shared all of the details of what I've been through on Facebook; maybe they've had their own tough roads. Though their new babies remind me of what might have been, I am happy for them.

And I can't wait to see pictures!
Monday, May 24, 2010


I haven't written for awhile, but this post has been rolling around in my head for awhile. Since I saw my counselor about two weeks ago.

It had been about a month since I had last met with her, and I had lots of updates. One of the biggest things on my mind was how frustrated I had been with myself. With how I was feeling, and how I didn't seem to be feeling any better. It had been a hard month, one of the hardest yet. What is it that happens about four months after a loss? I had been crashing.

She wondered if I was at a point where I could choose to move forward in my grief. That I could choose to be done with the intense stuff. And that would be okay, if that's what I wanted. That maybe the frustration was a sign that it was time to move forward. Not on, but forward. I honestly hadn't considered that I could choose, but it didn't scare me. I couldn't have even thought about it even a month ago. But I could consider it now.

So I've been thinking a lot. I've believed all along that I have to feel what I feel when I feel it. I believe that I have been working hard in my grief. To sort out my thoughts, feelings, and learn how to survive in my new world. It hurts. My babies died and that hurts. So much. That won't change.

What does being done with the hard stuff (for now, anyway...) feel like? Look like? I haven't had an idea of what that would be, though I've thought I'd know it when I am there. Maybe I'm here. Maybe I needed someone to give me permission.

I feel a little guilty for wanting to move on. A little. But I know it's okay. It's good. My babies are good, and I can be good, too. I thought I had reached acceptance when I knew my pregnancies were over. When it was physically apparent. That was an important step towards acceptance, but still, my mind and my heart don't always rarely agree. My heart is - dare I say it - happy. My heart has my babies carved into it forever and for always, but my heart has more room. Room to be happy and to love.

For the last two weeks, I've had mostly good days. I've had more energy and it doesn't take as much effort to move through the day. And it's okay. Good, even. I miss those little ones of mine and think of them every day, but it doesn't hurt every minute. And it's okay. Good, even. I'm living in my world, changed though it is, but my world isn't controlling me. It's my world.
Friday, May 14, 2010

a good day

Today is a good day. Heck, it's even been a good week! Some of it might be because my doctor is trying a different combination of meds. I'm not complaining if it makes me feel more like myself. And it also might be something that my counselor said earlier this week that has me thinking. More on that another time...

But today I am sitting at my parents' house for a long weekend of doing nothing! They're actually not here for the weekend, though we saw them a bit last night. Paul is off hunting raccoons at camp, my brother is at a high ropes course facilitator training for camp, and I'm sitting at the dining room table watching The West Wing on DVD and doing a bit of work. The agenda for the rest of the weekend: more West Wing, knitting, a couple of books, hiking, grilling and time with some dear friends. I'm mostly hiding out, enjoying the solace.

It's also been a good week because I am SO HAPPY for several friends who have announced pregnancies this week. SO HAPPY for them. These are pregnancies after loss(es), and for any woman who has the blessing of being pregnant again, I praise God. These little ones are so wanted and so loved...even by people who have never met their mamas.

One day I hope to announce a pregnancy, too. I have no idea when that might be, and that's okay. But I have so much HOPE, for my babies-to-be and for these babies who already ARE.
Saturday, May 8, 2010

formula samples = mother's day mail

So the only thing for me in the mail today was a nice big box of formula samples. I suppose the company wants me to be prepared, because for all they know, I should be bringing home a baby in about three weeks.

I'm choosing to laugh at the ridiculousness of it and go back to my knitting.
Thursday, May 6, 2010

sometimes it's just nice when others' words get it right

I haven't been doing very well lately, so I felt like I haven't had anything to share. I know I'm harder on myself than I should be. I know that this won't hurt in the same way forever. I know I will survive. But sometimes it's hard to believe that, you know?

I keep a card on my window ledge within arm's reach of my desk at work that I see every day. A colleague sent this to me after my niece died last summer, and she also knew about my first miscarriage that had happened three months prior. It reads, "Hope is a wonderful thing - more powerful than any worry and as close as a prayer." Every now and again, Hallmark gets it right. Hope and pray...hope and pray.

[I can tell I'm not myself...I'm starting every sentence with "I." Boo. Poor writing. On a day I feel more motivated, my syntax will be better.]

I just have to share the Silent Grief email that came today. Once again, the words are spot on and make so much more sense than I can attempt to at the moment.


May 6, 2010

Mother's Day will soon be here, and while that day is an awesome day of celebration for some, it is also one of the most painful days of the year to get through for the many mothers who are living with the heartache of child loss.

I have been a mother in grief. Twenty-two years ago on Mother's Day I was carrying my son who was to be born in July. Instead, I found out that he had died inside of me, and I spent Mother's Day carrying my little boy knowing that his heart had stopped beating forever. He was delivered "still" on the Thursday following Mother's Day.

Having "been there", I can tell you that there is no right or wrong way to approach Mother's Day when grieving. Do what is best for you, and don't spend countless hours trying to please others around you. If you want to talk a walk among nature to reflect, then do it. If you want to skip family meals and all reminders of Mother's Day, then do it. And, remember that you don't owe the world an explanation. This is one time when it's necessary to be selfish in your actions. You know what is best for you, and this is a time to take care of yourself.

Remembering your child is a very personal thing, and you might find that other's will not remember, or if they do remember your child, they might not mention your child by name. Others don't like to see us cry, so they avoid the obvious. "My child isn't here, and I'm in pain." Cry. Journal. Scream. Sleep. Light a candle. Release a balloon. Write a poem in memory of your child. All of these are ways to "get through Mother's Day"when you are missing your child. Again, this is very personal. Do what is best for YOU to get through.

Lastly, remember that this day will pass. You will make it, and when you do you will have accomplished a big step in your journey we call healing. - Clara Hinton

"My child, I love you, and I always will." --Clara Hinton

"In the day of my trouble I shall call upon Thee, for Thou wilt answer me." --Psalm 86:7