Toddlers and pregnancy don't lend much time/energy to blogging.
That's like the only excuse I have for everything these days. Toddlers and pregnancy don't lend much time/energy to laundry. Toddlers and pregnancy don't lend much time/energy to cleaning the bathroom. Toddlers and pregnancy don't lend much time/energy to grocery shopping. Toddlers and pregnancy don't.........well you get the drift.
But we are all well in Heininger land. Jay's work schedule is actually a bit lighter in the summer since he works primarily on the SIU campus and there's like no one there in the summer. So he gets home at a good time which, even if I'm still the one doing stuff with Norah, its just so much less pressure having him here while I do those things. Like even if I don't need the backup, its available and that makes all the difference.
Tuesday marks our 8 year wedding anniversary. We have been together for 11 years and married for almost 8 of them. I think its a good sign in a marriage when it simultaneously feels like you've been together forever and that there is no possible way it has been that long. We still bicker and give each other a hard time about everything. We still insult each other; its how we show love. But he's still my hero. I know that sounds painfully cliche, but it really is how I feel. I really do have this kind of deep ingrained knowledge that Jay can fix it. That when he gets home, no matter what kind of day we've had, he will swoop in and save me from it. He lets me not worry about stuff. And he lets me have cute kids. Even if thus far his offspring look like they came from him only (I tell ya, you'd think I'd never even carried her, how much Norah looks like her dad), I like being momma to his spawn. He's just lucky he's cute, if he's going to insist on his kids looking just like him.
Norah is a toddler. A real one. She whines. She has her momma's temper (cause that's what I wanted to pass on, not curly hair, my temper). This morning we had cereal with milk. I say we, but I really mean her. She ate Kix with milk out of a bowl with a spoon. Granted, I did still wrap a towel around her waist but she really did get most of the cereal and even most of the milk in her mouth. She loves using a fork and will eat anything that you will let her with a fork. She has eaten a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a fork (I cut it up into squares anyway). She made my mom let her eat pizza with a fork. She loves eating her supper with a fork off of a real plate. And she actually eats so so so much better if she is eating off of a real plate with a fork. Like she will eat vegetables, too. I know, right? Miracles do still occur.
I'm doing well. This pregnancy with Lainie is delightfully boring. I love it. I have nothing to report, nothing to chat about. I've not been very sick or achy or anything. I've had a few food aversions, but nothing too weird. I've had some insomnia, but nothing all that bad. I'm getting a little nervous about having an infant again. Like trying to remember the early bathtime stuff, for example. We did most of that with Norah in the NICU. So our wonderful nurses were right there. Lainie will hopefully be easier to bathe at first without the wires and tubes, but its still a little daunting.
On Monday I will be 32 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to Norah and Aislynn at 32 weeks 3 days. This is stressful for me. I know intellectually that the situation is completely different this time. I'm not even close to being as big preggo at this stage as I was then. But its that number, ya know? Like its my pregnancy expiration date or something. I've never been more than 32 weeks 3 days pregnant and I'm a little nervous about trying to make it to full term this time. People tease that I'll be so miserable in July so big and pregnant, but really, if I make it to July still pregnant, I will be so thankful and thrilled. I want to be hugely pregnant on my 31st birthday on July 8th. That would be the best birthday present ever. Then she can be born.
If you are the prayin' kind, please send up a prayer for us that we go full term and that our delivery goes smoothly. We are hoping to be able to do a traditional delivery instead of another c section. I really want that experience for us.
Well I need to sign off here. We are trying out going potty (a post for another day) so we spend lots and lots and lots of quality time in the bathroom.
Happy Saturday, beautiful people. Peace out!!
Saturday, May 24, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Bruises, clapping, Lainie, and fierceness.
Norah, these days, is ready to rock and roll every morning. She doesn't want good morning hugs or any of that mess, just lift her out of the crib and set her on her already moving feet and stand back. Lord help us, the day she starts trying to climb out of her cage herself. I am already grateful we put a regular door knob on her door and not the lever-lookin' kind. This morning I got smart and asked for a kiss before setting her free and actually got one. But I have the feeling she considered it payment for my freedom services.
Want to know another weird factoid about me? I am strangely proud of the random mystery bruises I get on my forearms. I get bruises on my legs all the time cause I'm a klutz and can't navigate my own house. But the ones on my arms, for some reason, speak to me like I'm really a mommy because I have done something or hoisted something/someone or carried too many toys and that's what caused them. They're like more adult or something.
Somehow we have trained Norah to close the bathroom door when it's left open. She loves the bathroom, its a wonderland of fun. And for a while we had a problem that when one of us would forget to close it, she would go in there and mess with stuff. Well somehow, in my quest to make leaving the bathroom less devastating, I taught her that closing the bathroom door is great fun. So now she does it on her own. We won't even know the door was open. We'll just hear a quiet click and then Norah comes into whatever room we are clapping for herself. It took us a bit to realize what she had done. And it is one of the best things she has learned how to do. Now she loves to close doors. Strange child.
The clapping thing is cool, too. She claps all the time, for everything, sometimes for nothing. She claps if she hears the words "good job" whether they're directed at her or not. And I think she believes it is her superpower to walk into a room of adults (like our awesome church small group) and start clapping and have every single person join her. I keep thinking that maybe this will keep developing into like the gift to encourage people and what an awesome gift that would be for her to have.
Lainie, my current passenger daughter making my clothes fit funny, is growing away. She moves so much, much more than Norah or Aislynn ever did. I can't decide if she's just got that much more room of if she's going to be a wild child. I have a sneaky suspicion that it's both. I love having a name to call her. Before we had kids I thought I would be one of those who would keep the name a secret until the baby was born and have this big surprise. But I just think its so much fun to have chosen her name and call her by it and kind of have some early bonding. I have some fears regarding bonding with our second earthly child. I struggled to bond with Norah while she was in the NICU and I know that was part her just being hooked up to so much at first and not being able to hold her and part of it was also grief over losing Aislynn, the loss of our girl itself and fear over exposing my heart to that again. I worry about favoring Norah over Lainie. But I have faith that God will work all that out in my heart so that I can have that connection with both of them. Different connections, sure, but that's how its supposed to be. I've never subscribed to that saying "I love my children equally". I love my children with equal fierceness but the love is different because each child is different. I expect my mother loves me, my sister, and brother differently just because we are very different people, but I know that she loves us with a fierceness that is equally staggering. My mother passed down her momma tiger fierceness to me, I'm sure of it. Did you guys ever hear about the time my mother had an entire hospital floor of doctor interns and residents terrified to even walk into my brother's room when he had surgery as a baby? The head surgeon had to come up to talk to her. Every nurse was shocked cause he never graced that floor with his presence but he had to cause my mom had put the fear of God into the "pee-ons" as she called them. Classic.
I have laundry baskets calling my name and they are developing attitudes that I don't appreciate. I think I'll let them stew a bit longer. I'm a rebel like that.
Want to know another weird factoid about me? I am strangely proud of the random mystery bruises I get on my forearms. I get bruises on my legs all the time cause I'm a klutz and can't navigate my own house. But the ones on my arms, for some reason, speak to me like I'm really a mommy because I have done something or hoisted something/someone or carried too many toys and that's what caused them. They're like more adult or something.
Somehow we have trained Norah to close the bathroom door when it's left open. She loves the bathroom, its a wonderland of fun. And for a while we had a problem that when one of us would forget to close it, she would go in there and mess with stuff. Well somehow, in my quest to make leaving the bathroom less devastating, I taught her that closing the bathroom door is great fun. So now she does it on her own. We won't even know the door was open. We'll just hear a quiet click and then Norah comes into whatever room we are clapping for herself. It took us a bit to realize what she had done. And it is one of the best things she has learned how to do. Now she loves to close doors. Strange child.
The clapping thing is cool, too. She claps all the time, for everything, sometimes for nothing. She claps if she hears the words "good job" whether they're directed at her or not. And I think she believes it is her superpower to walk into a room of adults (like our awesome church small group) and start clapping and have every single person join her. I keep thinking that maybe this will keep developing into like the gift to encourage people and what an awesome gift that would be for her to have.
Lainie, my current passenger daughter making my clothes fit funny, is growing away. She moves so much, much more than Norah or Aislynn ever did. I can't decide if she's just got that much more room of if she's going to be a wild child. I have a sneaky suspicion that it's both. I love having a name to call her. Before we had kids I thought I would be one of those who would keep the name a secret until the baby was born and have this big surprise. But I just think its so much fun to have chosen her name and call her by it and kind of have some early bonding. I have some fears regarding bonding with our second earthly child. I struggled to bond with Norah while she was in the NICU and I know that was part her just being hooked up to so much at first and not being able to hold her and part of it was also grief over losing Aislynn, the loss of our girl itself and fear over exposing my heart to that again. I worry about favoring Norah over Lainie. But I have faith that God will work all that out in my heart so that I can have that connection with both of them. Different connections, sure, but that's how its supposed to be. I've never subscribed to that saying "I love my children equally". I love my children with equal fierceness but the love is different because each child is different. I expect my mother loves me, my sister, and brother differently just because we are very different people, but I know that she loves us with a fierceness that is equally staggering. My mother passed down her momma tiger fierceness to me, I'm sure of it. Did you guys ever hear about the time my mother had an entire hospital floor of doctor interns and residents terrified to even walk into my brother's room when he had surgery as a baby? The head surgeon had to come up to talk to her. Every nurse was shocked cause he never graced that floor with his presence but he had to cause my mom had put the fear of God into the "pee-ons" as she called them. Classic.
I have laundry baskets calling my name and they are developing attitudes that I don't appreciate. I think I'll let them stew a bit longer. I'm a rebel like that.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
It's a ..........
PSYCHE!!!!
Gotcha. You didn't think I would really post that all nice and easy at the top of this blog, did you? Nope. Here's some random news instead.
Norah has seven teeth now. And one other top one that just has a teensy bit to go before it can be counted as "erupted". What a harsh word for teething. Erupted. Makes my mouth hurt. Makes hers hurt, too, since two molars are trying to cut in line and erupt before the teeth beside them. I feel like she's gonna look like a hill-billy for a short time. And considering how I dress her on some days (like laundry day), she fits the part frightfully well.
I can't decide if I've had a fit of nesting or if its the return of sunshine and above freezing temps that has had me cleaning our house. I didn't really nest with the girls. A combo of working full time and you know carrying twins pretty much took out my nesting energy I guess. Well, that and staying home with Norah means that every day, nearly all day I see our house. In all its "glory" if such a word can be applied to a mess and still retain some meaning. So I'm working on it. I can't wait for proper spring so my house can experience some fresh air and we can get working on some other projects that will be needed before the birth of our next munchkin.
All right, all right, I can hear you grumbling from there. Yes, I was going to tell you what we are having this time, I just wanted to make sure you were invested first. So here you are, dear readers. The Heiningers found out today that we are having a little girl! Norah is going to be the big sister to a little sister. And ya know what, we kinda always knew she was a she. I won't lie, the idea of having a boy was pretty prevalent early this pregnancy, but it never really seemed right. Couldn't really settle on a name we were both really in to, among other worries about room decor. But we are spared all of that and now we get to just sit back and enjoy adding to our family. I am excited at seeing Norah with her little sister and watching them grow up together. They will only be a year apart in school, you know. Norah will be one of the oldest in her class with her October birthday and our new little one will be one of the youngest with her (hopefully, prayers appreciated) July birthday.
Oh, I bet you want to know her name, huh? Yes, we have one picked out and its pretty great. Her name is Lainie Evelyn Heininger. Isn't it awesome? I do really like it. Just as much, in fact, as I like Norah's name and Aislynn's name. We pick out good names, its a talent.
So we have a Lainie. I love calling her by her name when she moves. Or telling her to bear with me when I move wrong trying to get up off the floor or reach for a toy. And I can't wait to see Norah see my belly move and feel it. And I can't wait to see Norah see Lainie and see Lainie see Norah. I can't wait to see our family together.
Lainie Evelyn Heininger: the bell pepper-sized (this week) bundle of joy and light who will make our lives better and harder and infinitely more beautiful.
Gotcha. You didn't think I would really post that all nice and easy at the top of this blog, did you? Nope. Here's some random news instead.
Norah has seven teeth now. And one other top one that just has a teensy bit to go before it can be counted as "erupted". What a harsh word for teething. Erupted. Makes my mouth hurt. Makes hers hurt, too, since two molars are trying to cut in line and erupt before the teeth beside them. I feel like she's gonna look like a hill-billy for a short time. And considering how I dress her on some days (like laundry day), she fits the part frightfully well.
I can't decide if I've had a fit of nesting or if its the return of sunshine and above freezing temps that has had me cleaning our house. I didn't really nest with the girls. A combo of working full time and you know carrying twins pretty much took out my nesting energy I guess. Well, that and staying home with Norah means that every day, nearly all day I see our house. In all its "glory" if such a word can be applied to a mess and still retain some meaning. So I'm working on it. I can't wait for proper spring so my house can experience some fresh air and we can get working on some other projects that will be needed before the birth of our next munchkin.
All right, all right, I can hear you grumbling from there. Yes, I was going to tell you what we are having this time, I just wanted to make sure you were invested first. So here you are, dear readers. The Heiningers found out today that we are having a little girl! Norah is going to be the big sister to a little sister. And ya know what, we kinda always knew she was a she. I won't lie, the idea of having a boy was pretty prevalent early this pregnancy, but it never really seemed right. Couldn't really settle on a name we were both really in to, among other worries about room decor. But we are spared all of that and now we get to just sit back and enjoy adding to our family. I am excited at seeing Norah with her little sister and watching them grow up together. They will only be a year apart in school, you know. Norah will be one of the oldest in her class with her October birthday and our new little one will be one of the youngest with her (hopefully, prayers appreciated) July birthday.
Oh, I bet you want to know her name, huh? Yes, we have one picked out and its pretty great. Her name is Lainie Evelyn Heininger. Isn't it awesome? I do really like it. Just as much, in fact, as I like Norah's name and Aislynn's name. We pick out good names, its a talent.
So we have a Lainie. I love calling her by her name when she moves. Or telling her to bear with me when I move wrong trying to get up off the floor or reach for a toy. And I can't wait to see Norah see my belly move and feel it. And I can't wait to see Norah see Lainie and see Lainie see Norah. I can't wait to see our family together.
Lainie Evelyn Heininger: the bell pepper-sized (this week) bundle of joy and light who will make our lives better and harder and infinitely more beautiful.
Monday, February 10, 2014
snapshots of my current life
this post will be partially not grammatically correct. which i have some hangups about, being a general nerd and former english tutor. can you guess the error? that's right, there are no capital letters. you see, gentle reader, my lovely, rampaging daughter popped off the left hand shift key from the keyboard like say six months ago and we can't figure out how to put it back on. and neither me or my darling husband ever learned how to shift with our right hand. so to capitalize letters, we have to hold down this little rubber nubbin where the shift key used to reside. and that's just not easy to do quickly, so i have resolved that during this post i will only use it for punctuation.
here's another thought on grammar. i don't think that spelling counts as grammar. spelling is its own evil issue that should have no bearing on how intelligent the writer is thought to be. proper punctuation and sentence structure are far more important that spelling. that being said, jesus invented spell check to make sure i can communicate with the outside world and be understood.
did you know that a refrigerator handle is considered "cosmetic"? isn't that the stupidest thing you've ever heard. it's a handle. i use it to operate the refrigerator ie. opening the door to get my cold stuff out. so shouldn't it be covered under warranty? well, according to lowes and frigidaire it is not. and worse still i missed the moment where our frige handle broke off in jay's hand. i am only left with a series of images pulled from stock footage of him being surprised/perplexed/angry all in the same moment. but still it is pretty dang funny. and i laugh every time my dumb butt swipes at the fridge trying to find the handle when i know darn good and well that this handle is on the cabinet and not attached to the fridge.
i found a way to spice up our morning routine this monday morning. norah has taken to making every diaper change/clothes change into some kind of parenting challenge. i can choose to get very angry that she's making this difficult or i can choose to buckle down and wrestle her down with funny sounds and tickling until she is clean (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) and dressed. this morning i chased her into the living room and turned this process in to a three round wrestling match on the love seat. and you know what, i won every round. it was touch and go a couple of times, especially during the shirt round because her shirt was a onsie and it has snaps, but momma prevailed. and we were both laughing by the time it was done. there are still jammies in the living room as proof of my victory over the small ginger tyrant.
lastly, we had cinnamon toast this morning for breakfast. breakfast has become something of a challenge for me since my child has broken up my routine. we had been having oatmeal and bananas for breakfast like every day. with the exception of some weekend mornings when jay would makes scrambled eggs for himself and would make extra for norah. well my independent, dare i say it, toddler does not like to be fed from a spoon anything that is not yogurt, pudding or applesauce and i'm not a brave enough person to let her try a spoon completely on her own yet. so breakfast has to change. she likes toast, so we have been doing that and sometimes jelly toast on the weekend. she likes french toast, even left over, so that works. but this morning i mixed up some cinnamon sugar and each had a slice of cinnamon sugar toast. this was a staple of my childhood. cinnamon sugar toast for breakfast and even cinnamon sugar on butter bread for dessert at lunch time. it was always there, in a reused spice container, right beside the toaster. and the sun went out if it was empty. of course mom was always there to keep the world spinning and make more cinnamon sugar. cinnamon sugar toast makes me feel like a good mom, cause it is something my mom did. it reminds me how it felt to have someone there constantly on my side even if it was, in that moment, only to refill the cinnamon sugar container. i had an amazing childhood because of all those tiny things my mom always did and i so so hope that someday norah will be able to say the same thing. being told i'm turning into my mother is one of the most exciting compliments i can ever receive.
to round things out here today, just an update on the new tyrant we are adding. i'm feeling pretty good for the most part. i was sick like the whole first half of my last pregnancy so this one has been easier in that regard. but boy oh boy, when i do get sick with this one, i am down for the count. and the belly-stretching round ligament pain has been like killer this time. i was not prepared, but for today i'm feeling pretty good. we have not really done anything as far as readied the bedroom for the addition because we are waiting to find out if we have another female tyrant or are venturing into the realm of boy-ness. and i'm still on the fence whether or not we will just buy another crib or try to hold off with just the pack-n-play until norah is ready for a toddler bed. we are going to just play that one by ear. it is very convenient that we will know the sex before yard sale season gets going so i can go nuts getting stuff that way.
and that's my life today. my kitchen is a mess and i have to cook the ribs i have been forgetting about for supper tonight. but i only have one load of clean laundry waiting for me to fold and disperse and i feel good about things like that.
here's another thought on grammar. i don't think that spelling counts as grammar. spelling is its own evil issue that should have no bearing on how intelligent the writer is thought to be. proper punctuation and sentence structure are far more important that spelling. that being said, jesus invented spell check to make sure i can communicate with the outside world and be understood.
did you know that a refrigerator handle is considered "cosmetic"? isn't that the stupidest thing you've ever heard. it's a handle. i use it to operate the refrigerator ie. opening the door to get my cold stuff out. so shouldn't it be covered under warranty? well, according to lowes and frigidaire it is not. and worse still i missed the moment where our frige handle broke off in jay's hand. i am only left with a series of images pulled from stock footage of him being surprised/perplexed/angry all in the same moment. but still it is pretty dang funny. and i laugh every time my dumb butt swipes at the fridge trying to find the handle when i know darn good and well that this handle is on the cabinet and not attached to the fridge.
i found a way to spice up our morning routine this monday morning. norah has taken to making every diaper change/clothes change into some kind of parenting challenge. i can choose to get very angry that she's making this difficult or i can choose to buckle down and wrestle her down with funny sounds and tickling until she is clean (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) and dressed. this morning i chased her into the living room and turned this process in to a three round wrestling match on the love seat. and you know what, i won every round. it was touch and go a couple of times, especially during the shirt round because her shirt was a onsie and it has snaps, but momma prevailed. and we were both laughing by the time it was done. there are still jammies in the living room as proof of my victory over the small ginger tyrant.
lastly, we had cinnamon toast this morning for breakfast. breakfast has become something of a challenge for me since my child has broken up my routine. we had been having oatmeal and bananas for breakfast like every day. with the exception of some weekend mornings when jay would makes scrambled eggs for himself and would make extra for norah. well my independent, dare i say it, toddler does not like to be fed from a spoon anything that is not yogurt, pudding or applesauce and i'm not a brave enough person to let her try a spoon completely on her own yet. so breakfast has to change. she likes toast, so we have been doing that and sometimes jelly toast on the weekend. she likes french toast, even left over, so that works. but this morning i mixed up some cinnamon sugar and each had a slice of cinnamon sugar toast. this was a staple of my childhood. cinnamon sugar toast for breakfast and even cinnamon sugar on butter bread for dessert at lunch time. it was always there, in a reused spice container, right beside the toaster. and the sun went out if it was empty. of course mom was always there to keep the world spinning and make more cinnamon sugar. cinnamon sugar toast makes me feel like a good mom, cause it is something my mom did. it reminds me how it felt to have someone there constantly on my side even if it was, in that moment, only to refill the cinnamon sugar container. i had an amazing childhood because of all those tiny things my mom always did and i so so hope that someday norah will be able to say the same thing. being told i'm turning into my mother is one of the most exciting compliments i can ever receive.
to round things out here today, just an update on the new tyrant we are adding. i'm feeling pretty good for the most part. i was sick like the whole first half of my last pregnancy so this one has been easier in that regard. but boy oh boy, when i do get sick with this one, i am down for the count. and the belly-stretching round ligament pain has been like killer this time. i was not prepared, but for today i'm feeling pretty good. we have not really done anything as far as readied the bedroom for the addition because we are waiting to find out if we have another female tyrant or are venturing into the realm of boy-ness. and i'm still on the fence whether or not we will just buy another crib or try to hold off with just the pack-n-play until norah is ready for a toddler bed. we are going to just play that one by ear. it is very convenient that we will know the sex before yard sale season gets going so i can go nuts getting stuff that way.
and that's my life today. my kitchen is a mess and i have to cook the ribs i have been forgetting about for supper tonight. but i only have one load of clean laundry waiting for me to fold and disperse and i feel good about things like that.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
The definition of rainbow
Boy, what a pretentious title. Geez. Well, judging by that, folks, you are in for a treat. Its been like two months since we were last gathered here. Norah was turning 1 and it was hard, a hard time. We got through it, stronger than before. It was like grief turning full circle, it felt so fresh and raw again. But with lots of prayer and support and just that whole daily going about life thing, we made it. I feel lots more peace about our path to parenthood.
Of course the news that we were up for round 2 didn't hurt that one bit. We found out about our next baby, whom we have dubbed "Smalls", about mid-November. There was joy right off. A strange sense of this is so the right thing and how awesome is this. Then the whole holy crap for a couple of months we will have two under two (Norah will be almost 21mos at my due date) settled in. And the realization that I will be out numbered during the day and I don't put it past Jay's and my kids to stage some kind of revolt fairly early in life. But its been mostly joy. Its odd, and we talked about it and agreed, somehow this feels more grownup and more "we are a family of our own" more than the girls' pregnancy did.
Don't get me wrong, there is fear. Heaven above, is there fear. Fear that leads me to gasp, how could we have done this again, what if, what if.... Standard first trimester fears are slowly diminishing, but I did have spotting again which was terrifying, again. We had some doctor problems that added to this stress. Our wonderful, supportive doc from last time moved away with a church plant. Wonderful that he and his family are following God's plan but bummer for us finding someone new who will kind of keep our history in mind. That was the trouble with the last office, it was just like I couldn't convince them that my fears are not irrational given our history. But that's resolved and we have a new doc who I feel like will listen. I've only seen his like PA (I think she was his PA), but once I told her all of our story, she said she thinks he will be a good fit for us. To answer the inevitable question, it will be several more weeks before we have an ultrasound that can check for any issues. And that is the only time I will answer that question or address this.
So here I sit, 11 weeks pregnant with a fig called Smalls (fig is the size of the baby this week and I get eternal enjoyment out of the fruit and veggie comparisons). And I understand "rainbow baby". I get it. I didn't before, not really. Its not just that there is hope after a tragedy or that God can give blessings that can lift you up from such grief. And its not moving on and letting go of the baby that was taken Home. Its the thought, that little moment realizing that you love this baby growing inside you just as much as you love the child you have here in your arms and the child waiting in Jesus's arms for you to get there. And then the thought follows, or it did for me, that if Aislynn hadn't been destined for Heaven sooner then the rest of us, we wouldn't have this baby here growing now. We wouldn't be adding this newly created soul to our family while Norah is this young. Bam. Woah. It threw me for a loop. I couldn't change our situation, I can't even imagine how life could have been different with both girls here without giving up this new life starting to make me out grow my jeans again. And I couldn't give up my Smalls, neither Jay or I could. And that is a rainbow baby. A baby so precious and so loved that you can feel more peace about the baby whisked away to God's side just so that you could experience both tiny lives. At least, that's what it means for me.
Prayer would be appreciated, for rest and faith and health, of course. But my biggest prayer has been that we get to have a normal, boring pregnancy that we all can enjoy. That I get to be full term and, since I'm due July 21st, that I'm horribly huge on my birthday the 8th. Side note: I'm excited as all get-out that I'll get to make use of my maternity swimsuit.
Thank you in advance for making this journey with us.
Of course the news that we were up for round 2 didn't hurt that one bit. We found out about our next baby, whom we have dubbed "Smalls", about mid-November. There was joy right off. A strange sense of this is so the right thing and how awesome is this. Then the whole holy crap for a couple of months we will have two under two (Norah will be almost 21mos at my due date) settled in. And the realization that I will be out numbered during the day and I don't put it past Jay's and my kids to stage some kind of revolt fairly early in life. But its been mostly joy. Its odd, and we talked about it and agreed, somehow this feels more grownup and more "we are a family of our own" more than the girls' pregnancy did.
Don't get me wrong, there is fear. Heaven above, is there fear. Fear that leads me to gasp, how could we have done this again, what if, what if.... Standard first trimester fears are slowly diminishing, but I did have spotting again which was terrifying, again. We had some doctor problems that added to this stress. Our wonderful, supportive doc from last time moved away with a church plant. Wonderful that he and his family are following God's plan but bummer for us finding someone new who will kind of keep our history in mind. That was the trouble with the last office, it was just like I couldn't convince them that my fears are not irrational given our history. But that's resolved and we have a new doc who I feel like will listen. I've only seen his like PA (I think she was his PA), but once I told her all of our story, she said she thinks he will be a good fit for us. To answer the inevitable question, it will be several more weeks before we have an ultrasound that can check for any issues. And that is the only time I will answer that question or address this.
So here I sit, 11 weeks pregnant with a fig called Smalls (fig is the size of the baby this week and I get eternal enjoyment out of the fruit and veggie comparisons). And I understand "rainbow baby". I get it. I didn't before, not really. Its not just that there is hope after a tragedy or that God can give blessings that can lift you up from such grief. And its not moving on and letting go of the baby that was taken Home. Its the thought, that little moment realizing that you love this baby growing inside you just as much as you love the child you have here in your arms and the child waiting in Jesus's arms for you to get there. And then the thought follows, or it did for me, that if Aislynn hadn't been destined for Heaven sooner then the rest of us, we wouldn't have this baby here growing now. We wouldn't be adding this newly created soul to our family while Norah is this young. Bam. Woah. It threw me for a loop. I couldn't change our situation, I can't even imagine how life could have been different with both girls here without giving up this new life starting to make me out grow my jeans again. And I couldn't give up my Smalls, neither Jay or I could. And that is a rainbow baby. A baby so precious and so loved that you can feel more peace about the baby whisked away to God's side just so that you could experience both tiny lives. At least, that's what it means for me.
Prayer would be appreciated, for rest and faith and health, of course. But my biggest prayer has been that we get to have a normal, boring pregnancy that we all can enjoy. That I get to be full term and, since I'm due July 21st, that I'm horribly huge on my birthday the 8th. Side note: I'm excited as all get-out that I'll get to make use of my maternity swimsuit.
Thank you in advance for making this journey with us.
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Happy Birthdays
I'm struggling so hard with how to begin this. Its like I get the middle of these posts all worked out in my head but how to start that just escapes me. Norah Hazel will be a year old tomorrow. Craziness. Utter craziness. I'm baking a birthday cake as I type this (I was about to put "as we speak" but it occurred to me that I'm not speaking). I have a pink tutu on a box in front of me for her to wear at her party. Nuts. I am so excited to give her her very first cupcake tomorrow at home with just us and see her reaction to her birthday candle and sing happy birthday to her and see her open her gifts from me and her dad. I have been just dying to give her her presents. It is unbelievable that she went from a tiny tiny baby to this rough playing, standing up, squealing, silly face making, crazy child in just 12 short months. She is the happiest child I think I have ever seen. And she loves to cuddle and be close, which just makes mommy feel awesome. She loves Sesame Street which for some reason makes me feel successful as a parent. She loves her blocks and stuffed kitty cat and her truck. Jay cut the cord off of an old old xbox controller and she adores her video game like daddy has. She is silly and wonderful and sometimes trying but overall just the most amazing child I have ever seen. I am proud to be her mother.
We am picking out pictures of Aislynn to have at the birthday party. I tied matching tulle on her heartbeat lamb because I can't make her a tutu. I don't get to see her eat cake. I don't get to give her presents. I have to wait a lifetime to see her play and hear her voice. But her life has value. I am proud to be her mother. I am proud to have carried her. And I am proud that we were strong enough to be joyful with her in the moments she spent on this earth. I am honored that we got to see her all the way through her journey. That sounds so right, doesn't it? Like exactly what I'm supposed to say to show how strong I am and how much faith I have and show everyone that its all okay.
Well, I don't always feel like any of that. Its always true, every word of it is always true, but I don't always feel like saying it. Sometimes I'm pretty pissed that she's not here. I feel like she was stolen from us, our twin girls, this image I had in my mind when they told me we were having twins, was ripped from us unjustly. Sometimes I can't even make it through a church service and spend most of it sobbing my guts out on a couch in the bathroom. I am haunted by the thoughts of "this time last year." This time last year I think I was about to be moved out of Labor and Delivery and over to Antepartum in the hospital. And I have been doing that for three days. I think part of me is not only mourning Aislynn but the abrupt end to my time carrying them. It was so sudden, I had a lovely baby shower and then bam! they are coming and its to early and I'm not ready for any of this, least of all to have to tell Aislynn goodbye. I ache with longing to hold both of my girls. Today, that voice is screaming that this isn't fair.
But I go on. Its so cliche to say but I have to go on. I have a cake cooling so I can use the same pan to make another (its a small cake pan for her smash cake and my mom only has the one but its what I wanted so I do this the long way). Then I have some cupcakes to make too for our little party. I have to find letter stencils and make sure I remember to buy apples and cut little felt circles. Its not all grief and pain, its unbelievably large amounts of crazy hopeful joyfulness. I can't imagine our lives any different, for all that I try to. I will try to remember last year with joy, and I will focus on the happiness both our girls have brought us. And now I will finish a birthday cake.
Happy birthday, Norah Hazel.
Happy birthday, Aislynn Marie and Happy anniversary in Heaven, baby girl.
We am picking out pictures of Aislynn to have at the birthday party. I tied matching tulle on her heartbeat lamb because I can't make her a tutu. I don't get to see her eat cake. I don't get to give her presents. I have to wait a lifetime to see her play and hear her voice. But her life has value. I am proud to be her mother. I am proud to have carried her. And I am proud that we were strong enough to be joyful with her in the moments she spent on this earth. I am honored that we got to see her all the way through her journey. That sounds so right, doesn't it? Like exactly what I'm supposed to say to show how strong I am and how much faith I have and show everyone that its all okay.
Well, I don't always feel like any of that. Its always true, every word of it is always true, but I don't always feel like saying it. Sometimes I'm pretty pissed that she's not here. I feel like she was stolen from us, our twin girls, this image I had in my mind when they told me we were having twins, was ripped from us unjustly. Sometimes I can't even make it through a church service and spend most of it sobbing my guts out on a couch in the bathroom. I am haunted by the thoughts of "this time last year." This time last year I think I was about to be moved out of Labor and Delivery and over to Antepartum in the hospital. And I have been doing that for three days. I think part of me is not only mourning Aislynn but the abrupt end to my time carrying them. It was so sudden, I had a lovely baby shower and then bam! they are coming and its to early and I'm not ready for any of this, least of all to have to tell Aislynn goodbye. I ache with longing to hold both of my girls. Today, that voice is screaming that this isn't fair.
But I go on. Its so cliche to say but I have to go on. I have a cake cooling so I can use the same pan to make another (its a small cake pan for her smash cake and my mom only has the one but its what I wanted so I do this the long way). Then I have some cupcakes to make too for our little party. I have to find letter stencils and make sure I remember to buy apples and cut little felt circles. Its not all grief and pain, its unbelievably large amounts of crazy hopeful joyfulness. I can't imagine our lives any different, for all that I try to. I will try to remember last year with joy, and I will focus on the happiness both our girls have brought us. And now I will finish a birthday cake.
Happy birthday, Norah Hazel.
Happy birthday, Aislynn Marie and Happy anniversary in Heaven, baby girl.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Sandwich (aka Destiny sucks at titles for her blog posts)
Okay so I don't want for this to be a downer post so I'll make it a serious stuff sandwich. Let's start with something entirely pedestrian and done for ironic effect: the weather! How awesome is this cool weather? It's like a reminder, a promise that fall is indeed on its way bringing that wondrous gift, open windows.
First part of the sandwich, done. Now for something that has been weighing on me to say for a while. Thankfully I haven't had to deal with the death of a parent or sibling, so I can't speak to how that feels. But I have lost two children. Yes, two. And I didn't really even know how to miss the first miscarried little baby until we buried our beautiful Aislynn. Time does start to lessen the razor edge of grief, at least it has for me over the last nearly 10 months since I last felt my girl move within me and then held her little body. But I think that when you lose a child, no matter how long you had this child...days, weeks, months or years...no matter whether you held them in your arms or only held them within your body, I think there is always a voice yelling in the back of your mind that it isn't right, it isn't fair that this soul was taken. Some days the voice can be barely heard, and others it seems to be the only thing filling my head. I can even go days without even hearing it at all. But it is there. I think this is because something in our hearts, something whispered into our very souls when we were still in the womb, and we know that this world is not what was intended for us. So I send a hug out to every mother who has to wait a little longer to hold her babies again. The babies we have here are a constant source of joy but that doesn't mean we don't ache for the babies we are waiting to cuddle.
Now, part the last. Norah has decided to start sleeping in and I'm not sure I like it. Crazy, right? She goes to bed around 8pm-ish, still gets up at night (thank you teething and separation anxiety stage) but has decided not to get up until like 8am! I really need to start setting a non-baby alarm so that I can take advantage this. It just feels so odd to be eating breakfast at 830 after I had gotten used to being back from our walk and nearing nap time 830am. Now nap time has gotten moved to like 1030ish making lunch time whenever this sleepy head wakes up. It is right now 1pm and she is still napping. Late lunches mean late afternoon naps, at like 4pm and then I have to wake her up at like 530 just so she is awake enough to eat supper and get wore out playing again by bed time. And for those who would encourage me to try to skip an afternoon nap to make sure she is plenty tired at bedtime and sleeps through the night, I thumb my nose at you. We tried that yesterday, even went to a lovely friend's house to play and change up the scenery. She got up three times last night, four if you count when I laid her back down at 440am and then had to get back up at 450am to help her back to sleep. Only one of those was a bottle, 3am. And if I try the whole "cry it out" business, it just means I have to change the sheets cause she cries so hard she vomits and then the night is over.
On a more pleasant note, this little daredevil has really discovered she likes to be left to her own devices so she can show mommy how ill-prepared the house was for a mobile baby. It almost feels like she wakes up in the morning with the goal of breaking her nose or getting a concussion. But she still crawls over for cuddles. She is the cuddliest baby I have ever seen. She gives gentle little head-butts when we're holding her, especially for her daddy, and is even starting to give kisses, but only randomly, not when asked. She gives hugs when we pick her up out of her bed by laying her head on our shoulder for a moment. She smiles at me when we are rocking and I start to sing one of her songs. Norah would rather have just something bit of household something to play with than most of her toys. She is a demon in her rolling-walker thing and the cats are not fond of this at all. Nor are mommy and daddy's toes. But she would still rather be on the floor to see how much cat hair she can find mommy has missed with the broom. Norah gets all excited when either of her grandma's are on the phone. It is so neat to see her face light up when she hears their voices. She knows her daddy's ringtone on my phone and if she hears it, the conversation must be put on speaker so she can hear daddy's voice. In just two and a half months my little baby will be a whole year old. Planning a birthday party seems so surreal and like normal mom-ness, that it is strange to think that this is me doing it.
Well, I think that's this sammich done. Hope it was good and causes no indigestion ;)
And there she is, right on cue, how does she do that?
First part of the sandwich, done. Now for something that has been weighing on me to say for a while. Thankfully I haven't had to deal with the death of a parent or sibling, so I can't speak to how that feels. But I have lost two children. Yes, two. And I didn't really even know how to miss the first miscarried little baby until we buried our beautiful Aislynn. Time does start to lessen the razor edge of grief, at least it has for me over the last nearly 10 months since I last felt my girl move within me and then held her little body. But I think that when you lose a child, no matter how long you had this child...days, weeks, months or years...no matter whether you held them in your arms or only held them within your body, I think there is always a voice yelling in the back of your mind that it isn't right, it isn't fair that this soul was taken. Some days the voice can be barely heard, and others it seems to be the only thing filling my head. I can even go days without even hearing it at all. But it is there. I think this is because something in our hearts, something whispered into our very souls when we were still in the womb, and we know that this world is not what was intended for us. So I send a hug out to every mother who has to wait a little longer to hold her babies again. The babies we have here are a constant source of joy but that doesn't mean we don't ache for the babies we are waiting to cuddle.
Now, part the last. Norah has decided to start sleeping in and I'm not sure I like it. Crazy, right? She goes to bed around 8pm-ish, still gets up at night (thank you teething and separation anxiety stage) but has decided not to get up until like 8am! I really need to start setting a non-baby alarm so that I can take advantage this. It just feels so odd to be eating breakfast at 830 after I had gotten used to being back from our walk and nearing nap time 830am. Now nap time has gotten moved to like 1030ish making lunch time whenever this sleepy head wakes up. It is right now 1pm and she is still napping. Late lunches mean late afternoon naps, at like 4pm and then I have to wake her up at like 530 just so she is awake enough to eat supper and get wore out playing again by bed time. And for those who would encourage me to try to skip an afternoon nap to make sure she is plenty tired at bedtime and sleeps through the night, I thumb my nose at you. We tried that yesterday, even went to a lovely friend's house to play and change up the scenery. She got up three times last night, four if you count when I laid her back down at 440am and then had to get back up at 450am to help her back to sleep. Only one of those was a bottle, 3am. And if I try the whole "cry it out" business, it just means I have to change the sheets cause she cries so hard she vomits and then the night is over.
On a more pleasant note, this little daredevil has really discovered she likes to be left to her own devices so she can show mommy how ill-prepared the house was for a mobile baby. It almost feels like she wakes up in the morning with the goal of breaking her nose or getting a concussion. But she still crawls over for cuddles. She is the cuddliest baby I have ever seen. She gives gentle little head-butts when we're holding her, especially for her daddy, and is even starting to give kisses, but only randomly, not when asked. She gives hugs when we pick her up out of her bed by laying her head on our shoulder for a moment. She smiles at me when we are rocking and I start to sing one of her songs. Norah would rather have just something bit of household something to play with than most of her toys. She is a demon in her rolling-walker thing and the cats are not fond of this at all. Nor are mommy and daddy's toes. But she would still rather be on the floor to see how much cat hair she can find mommy has missed with the broom. Norah gets all excited when either of her grandma's are on the phone. It is so neat to see her face light up when she hears their voices. She knows her daddy's ringtone on my phone and if she hears it, the conversation must be put on speaker so she can hear daddy's voice. In just two and a half months my little baby will be a whole year old. Planning a birthday party seems so surreal and like normal mom-ness, that it is strange to think that this is me doing it.
Well, I think that's this sammich done. Hope it was good and causes no indigestion ;)
And there she is, right on cue, how does she do that?
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