I keep opening my mail box and being reminded that I’m not pregnant.

Somehow I’m on various mailing list that assumee that I’m still pregnant. I mean, I guess I can’t expect companies magically to know which people on mailing lists haven’t made it through the pregnancy, but, it’s still gives me a little kick to the gut every time I see a box of formula starring at me or a teeny-tiny newborn diaper. My first reaction is “Aw, how CUTE!” and then I move to, “Wow, I would be needing these very soon if the babies had lived” and then I move to the sadness of remembering what it was like to be 9 months pregnant with Savannah and thrilled (and so READY) to give birth.  My baby girl is about to turn three in a few short months, those memories seem so distant now and yet so close.

That would be me right now, experiencing those moments again. I would be about 37 weeks pregnant, sporting chubbier cheeks and a belly the size of a humongous watermelon. I would be organizing and reorganizing tiny onsies and blankets in a nursery. Savannah would be feeling the rolls and squirms in awe and excited for her little brother or sister (or both) to arrive.  It’s insane how quickly the time has flown by to this point, I was half hoping it never would arrive. It’s just not right to be at this point and not having the proof that there was a baby in there and should be almost here.

It makes me long for another one. I know I can never fill the place of the ones we lost, or even Kaylee, but I just know our family is not complete yet. Still, now is not the time. Especially since we are starting the process to build a house (!). And getting a house is much more needed right now to house our future growing family, no? First things first.

So, for now, I set the newborn diapers aside for a later date and I pass the formula and coupons along to people who need it.

One day, one day.

Being a young mommy and birthmother often dominate the discussion on this blog now-a-days and my daily life in general, however, that doesn’t mean I forget the two we lost this past May/June in early pregnancy.  As the months have flown by (it’s already been 4 since the D&E), giving me not just time to distance myself but a heart that’s healing as well, the pain of miscarriage isn’t at the forfront anymore. After a while, you realize you have to move on. After a while there doesn’t seem to be a point to keep writing about the same heart ache and feelings of emptiness.  I deal with it privately now, whether in the writing I do outside of this blog or simply in my dreams.

But, today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day and I can’t help but bring up those feelings again, especially after visiting Breanna who is the at the point in pregnancy I should be right now.  Granted, my heart has healed some, just as it has from my experience placing my daughter, but I can’t deny the fact that at times the emptiness is still there and the longing for those babies comes crashing in when least expected. 

Today I’m not just remembering our twins, but remembering my friends, family, and people I’ve just heard about who have lost babies while pregnant or even when their child was just weeks old. My best friend, my neighbor, my online friend Hilary, sweet Coley from Birthmom Buds, mommy bloggers Firemom and Mandy Mom, Angie who blogs on Bring the Rain, just to name a few. My heart breaks for all of us, to not get to see our children grow, some times not to even know their genders or give them names.

Sending prayers to all you Mommies for comfort and peace, and sending prayers to above that all these children may know they are loved here on earth and we hope to hold them one day in Heaven.

While I am still at peace and know there is nothing I could have done about my miscarriage, I’m seeing pregnant people everywhere or stumbling across their blogs where they describe pregnancy stuff…and it stabs me in the heart.

While at Best Buy on Friday I was watching Mark and Brother-In-Law play Rock Band when a pregnant woman, probably 5-6 months, was looking at products near by and I had to walk away to keep from crying in the store. It hurts, yall.  It hurts to be reminded that right now I would be near or in my 4th month, about to find out the gender of my baby.  Summer was supposed to be about a cute little belly in a bathing suit, feeling the tiny flutters for the first time, and finally getting that long awaited ultrasound appointment to know whether we would have a boy or girl.

It doesn’t affect me all the time because for the most part I am doing really well and know that things happen for a reason, but sometimes the emotions do hit at weird times.  I can see a pregnant lady at church and not be affected, but the next day I may be. The feelings of a miscarriage totally remind me adoption feelings. The emptiness at times. The sadness that the dreams you had won’t be lived out with you, but some where else, whether with new parents or in Heaven. And yet similarly, the grief cycle has been the same as well but at an accelerated rate either because my pregnancy was much shorter this time or because I’ve been through grief a million times before and know what to do: turn to God.

I am closer to God than ever right now and I’m thankful. My feet are on solid ground, but sometimes God just has to hold me up a little more.  And as I say a prayer for my babies to hear, to know they will always be in my heart, I’m reminded they are well taken care of (as is Kaylee) and one day…I will get to hold them and know who they are forever.

I never, ever thought a post like this would come from me. A young girl who has had two healthy pregnancies, two healthy girls. Let me explain:

My midwife ordered an ultrasound for today to check my dates since I have irregular cycles now (sorry Dad, too much information, I’m sure!).  According to my last cycle I should be well into 8 weeks, but I thought I would be around 7 weeks.  Well, we go to the appointment and the ultrasound technician is quiet until I ask a question.  And she said, “I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure, but there are two yolk sacs.” However, there was only one baby we could see. It appears the other baby already has passed away and the sac is shrinking, which happens a lot in many women.  And I’m ok with that because seriously? Us having twins?  We would go insane. And my body who can barely fit one baby, holding two?  Ouch.

But, what is concerning to me and the doctor there is that the baby is only measuring at 6 weeks (which I suppose is plausible) and the heart rate is very, very low at 67 bpm.  Now, let me put this in perspective. A baby’s heart starts beating around 5 or 6 weeks and it quickly goes to being in  100’s, this baby should be all the way in the 130’s or 140’s or even higher.  Not good. So, unless something miraculous happens by my next appointment and God decides this baby has a purpose on earth, it really appears that I’ll have two babies in heaven.

This is all a shock to us of course. We weren’t expecting twins and we weren’t expecting our baby to not to be healthy. I mean, how can it be? But I have faith in God and that things do happen for a reason.  I like the way Mark put it, he said that we’ll have two babies who don’t have to suffer through this fallen world and they can go straight to heaven. And I responded with, “But I never got to know them…” and he said, “But we’ll have eternity with them and get to know them.”  My husband sure is a good man with a way to ease my heart.

I’m ok, really. I have peace as I rest in God’s will and warm presence. I trust that He knows what is best for these babies and for our family. I trust that we’ll expand our family again someday when the timing is right.

Until we know more, if you are the praying type, prays would be lovely. Grief has already set in as I (we) prepare for the worst soon.

P.S.  Don’t forget the breast pump giveaway ends today!

Today was the last day of finals for Mark and I. That deserves a big woo hoo! Tomorrow begins a month’s worth of doing nothing but spending time with family. Ahhh…

However, this day has not been so good for the technology in my life. 

Exhibit A: My car.

I’m driving the 45 to school, on the high way, with a speedometer that is stuck on 20. So, I don’t know how fast I’m going, just going with the flow and praying I don’t get pulled over. This problem I’ve had for a while which is why I choose not to drive my car if possible, today I had to though.  It’s a gray day, extremely foggy and misty so I’ve got my windshield whippers on medium to keep a clear view. And suddenly, the windshield wipper FLIES OFF! On the high way!  The on the drivers side, of course. I laugh, cry, and thank God at the same time. Ya know, cause things could have really been bad if it was raining harder than it was.  So, I spend the rest of drive leaning over to the passenger side making sure I can see. It looks like an amputated little arm now, my poor car is literally falling aprart. Oh.

Exhibit B: My Computer

I get home for my long day of finals, check my email really quick and accept a blog comment, then go to give Savannah a bath. Then? I come back a few minutes later and it’s stuck on a black screen doing circles of commands.  I immedietely call my personal Geek Squad (aka, my Dad) and he tells me that it sounds like my hard drive is dying. Great. So all my picture, files, personal writings, important emails, past papers, scrapbooking supplies, etc. Gone.  And what I’m really kicking myself about? I had an external hard drive. If I would have taken the time to unwrap the box and use it, my stuff would still be alive.  *kicks self*

So, today I will muster up a “woo hoo” but my heart is really sinking way down to my shoes.  My baby, my lap top, is gone.  And I can’t afford a new one. Let’s have a moment of silence while I cry. No, seriously, I just might cry.

The first giveaway of the season is up!  Head on over to the review blog to win a helpful item for all that Christmas wrapping.

Many more giveaways of all different types coming soon. Keep an eye out…

She’s just getting too big, folks! Since when can she climb into a Hannah Montana chair and ask, “I uh color!” (Which in Savannah language means, “I want to color!”)? It’s all going by way too fast, she turns 18 months old in a little over a month. How is that even possible? I can’t remember what it was like to have her as a baby (which is probably a good thing since I do know that it was a very sleep deprived year).

Lately she’s rediscovered some of her baby things, like the Graco Entertainer we had in the garage and her old infant bath tub (which sucks for bathing slippery babies so don’t buy that one). She’s been asking to play with them on a daily basis, which is quite funny because while she still fits in them, but she looks HUGE compared to when she used them months ago.

Oh, it goes by fast.

I promise we’re still alive and well. I’ve just been busy…or not in the mood for writing. (Of course I finally start writing and some one calls!)

Things we’ve been up to:
1. Little surprises for Mark for when we get back home tomorrow. Just had to throw that in there to drive him crazy!

2. Playing games and shopping with my little sister. We got matching shoes. And, Savannah shop-lifted a bracelet! Oy. I returned it promptly.

3. Painted the hallway with my Dad. I’ve become a mighty good trim painter, if I do say so myself. Plus, it was just nice to do something with my Dad, that doesn’t happen often these days and it’s exactly why I just had to come back for another visit since he wasn’t around much last time because of work.

4. Said goodbye to our cat, Sam. For this, I am so glad I made the spontaneous decision to come to my parent’s earlier than planned, because other wise I wouldn’t have gotten to spend so much time with Sambo, or maybe even not have gotten to say goodbye.

See, this cat was nearly as old as I was, I can’t remember a time he wasn’t around at my Dad’s. We think he turned 19 this past Wednesday and that makes him a little under 2 years younger than I am, with myself almost 21. He went down hill extremely fast just since I had gotten here and we all just knew it was time. It was horrible to see him in so much pain, hardly being able to move around. He hadn’t eaten or drank much in days so he was literally pretty much starving and dehydrating before our eyes. We spent Friday snuggling him, telling him how much we loved him, said our final goodbyes, and eventually they took him to the vet.

I’m sure you guys could care less about our cat, but to us he was like another member of our family and it’s been hard to not have him around. And surely, if you’ve ever lost a pet, you know how it feels.

I keep thinking about how when I was little he liked to come sleep on my chest at night when I stayed with my Dad. And some how this week, he managed to make the climb up our steps and up to my room where I was working on some editing to have one last good snuggle. I will forever cherish that moment, knowing that he climbed up stairs, willing to jump up on to the very tall bed (but I didn’t let him, I picked him up since he’d had a habit of falling lately), in his fragile state just to come be with me for a little bit longer. He was such a sweet kitty.

I know he’s in a much better place now, free of pain and playing with his best friend, our dog who passed away 10 years ago.

Oh goodness, it’s one of those days. Savannah has been whining since the moment she got up at 6:30 (clearly, way to early for her to be up). She’s only some-what content if we’re outside. But really? It’s like an oven out there and it’s not even officially summer yet! We surely cannot spend all day out side baking, but try explaining that to a 15 month old teething girl. *sigh*

She screamed when dinner wasn’t quite ready yet. And when it was ready? She screamed some more. Mark’s Dad gave me a lecture on how I’m not firm enough with her and she takes advantage of me. And then? She pooped in the tub.  A nice slimy one that got everywhere. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

I’m discovering that being a 24/7 SAHM Mom is very wearing.  By the end of the week I’m spent, and by Saturdays I’m really needing a break. Remember last Saturday’s cry?  It’s odd that Saturdays are my worse day of the week now, it’s like my new Monday.  But that’s the good thing that by Monday I’m refreshed and ready again.

And on top of this, my little heart is hurting with adoption stuff. Kaylee’s birthday is less than 2 weeks away and this is always the hardest part…leading up to it. I’m dealing with issues like guilt, that I’m not letting her know I love her enough. I don’t call and ask to speak to her. I don’t send her letters. I don’t even know simple things like her favorite color or food. But then again…I don’t want to intrude on their lives with these things, they’re already busy enough. Oh, it’s hard to find the right balance.

Here’s to hoping tomorrow is a better day. With no poop in the shower, please.

I’ve been working on another post but this is far more important than my hair right now (sorry, you’ll just have to wait to see the “new” me until another day).

If you haven’t heard the news yet, Christian musican Steven Curtis Chaman’s 5 year old daughter, Maria, was killed yesterday in their own drive way by their son’s (I believe?) car accidentally. I cannot even imagine what they are going through right now, especially with all that is going on in their lives. I know there isn’t much I can do but to pray for peace and that they are seeking God during this hard time. So, if you’re are the praying type, would you please lift this family up in your prayers? If you aren’t the praying type, how about sending some good thoughts their way.

They have set up a blog specifically in honor of Maria to leave condolences and share a video that lets you get to know Maria a little more. She was obviously a very happy little girl, my heart goes out to them.

Don’t forget to hug and love on your children today, and always. You never know when things like this could happen. Treasure every moment, that’s what I’m off to do.