Wordless Wednesday

Look who I found sitting on the dining room table raiding my dark chocolate M&Ms……

A Tuesday in the life of a preschooler

Story time at the library.  I’m not so sure about this bumblebee necklace I have to wear.

Hey, but this lady has freeze pops….I’ll leave the bee on.

Playing and picnicking at the park is wearing me out.

Hey everybody, let’s go feed the ducks.  I’ll lead the way.

Eat your crackers, quack-quacks!

Summertime

Sundae cups full of Dum-dums

Fresh veggies to toss into homemade pasta salad

Being so worn out from summer fun that we fall asleep eating lunch

You’re Not Shaken

I am by no means a diehard American Idol fan.  In fact, I don’t know that I saw an episode until Season 3.  But I have watched it enough over the last several years to tell you who all the top Idols are, and who I wish had won, and who I just plain didn’t like.

Phil Stacey was one of the latter.  I think he was Season 6.  His voice was decent enough, I guess, but I didn’t like his look, and I didn’t like his attitude.  I thought he was arrogant and cocky, and I wasn’t at all sad to see him go.

Well, sure.  I’ll take some salt on this crow that I’m eating.

I still can’t say that I care for his look (some people can do the whole shaved head thing; some can’t), and I don’t know if his attitude has changed to my liking, but I have to tell you…..

I LOVE his first single.

It’s titled You’re Not Shaken, and every time I hear it, I think, “Yes.  THIS.”

This is what my heart is crying.  This is what I’m feeling.  This – my soul put to music.

I am sinking in the river that is raging,
I am drowning.
Will I ever rise to breathe again?
I wanna know why;
I just wanna understand.
Will I ever know why?
How could this be from Your hand?

When every little thing that I dream of being
just slips away like water through my hands,
And when it seems the walls from my beliefs come crashing down
like they’re all made of sand…
I won’t let go of You now because I know
Oh, You’re not shaken.

I am trembling in the darkness of my own fear.
All the questions with no answers
so grip me while I’m here.
And I may never know why;
Oh, I may not understand.
But I will lift up my eyes, and trust this is Your plan

I know You’re in the valley of the shadow of death
You’re not shaken, You’re not shaken

I bolded the phrases that speak loudest to me.

Even though I KNOW that God doesn’t make mistakes, I can still admit that I hate that He chose me to bear the burden of losing a child.  It doesn’t feel good, at all.  I selfishly want only the “God is good” side right now, and not the “God is right” side.

The only aspiration I’ve ever really, truly had is to be a mother to a whole passel of kids.  I have vocal talent, but have no desire to record.  I can write, but outside of this blog, I don’t care to ever publish another word.  I don’t want to climb Everest; I don’t even care if I ever go to Hawaii.  I just want to be a mommy to a house full of children.  Am I saying that Seth isn’t enough?  No, not exactly.  But I’m admitting that I never wanted to mother an only child.  I really, really, really want to give Seth the sibling relationships that Jim and I didn’t have growing up.  That is my dream, and it feels like it is slipping away.

And, well, the valley of the shadow of death.  I get now – I mean, really GET IT – that it is not just the “valley of death” but it’s the “valley of the shadow of death.”  Because even once you are out of the immediate “death” part – the days of Duncan’s delivery, and planning for his end, and the funeral, and the visits – then comes the shadow.  Each day, even seven weeks out, is still touched by his presence, and moreso, by his absence.

So, even though I still don’t love Phil Stacey, I have to give him props for his new single.  It’s ministering to me right now in an unexpected way.  I’ve linked to his song below; maybe you need to be ministered to, too.

Click the link below to be taken to his song:

http://musicremedy.com/p/Phil_Stacey/videos/Youre_Not_Shaken-36376.html

Happy Independence Day

Obviously, we don’t have this year’s shots to post, so I’ll leave you all with this gem from last summer.

Oh, what a year can bring!  Look at that baby face!

We are spending the day shopping, golfing, eating, and firecrackering.  I hope you are too, and that you and your family enjoy a wonderful celebration of our nation’s independence.

Hideaway

Can I just tell you how much I love this kid? Seriously. I need to give him a flashlight to take in there with him. He'd probably never come out.

Such A Mom

Sometimes, I'm amazed that I'm 28 and a mom.

Not that I'm 28 and a mother. But that I'm a MOM. You moms are going to know exactly what I mean.

The other night, as we were finishing up dinner, and Seth was smearing the remnants of his grape popsicle over our ivory dining room chairs, Jim asked me, "so, what did you and Seth do today?"

I looked at him, looked at my just-barely-survived-a-hurricane kitchen, looked at my diaper-clad one-year-old dragging a kiddie pool full of plastic balls into the living room, and sighed.

What didn't I do?

Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. I love my life.

It just dawned on me, though, as I was rinsing pots and loading the dishwasher, hearing the sounds of bathtime coming through the floorboards, as I looked at the clock and wondered how it came to be 8:09 already, just how FULL my days as a mom are.

That day, I:

gave Seth a bath,
made fruit salad,
shaved my legs,
had a playdate,
supervised my blog redesign,
talked to (almost) all of our parents,
prepped chicken to marinate,
made veggie pasta salad,
cooked dinner,
changed 4 dipaers (two of them poopy),
added features to our Verizon plan,
figured out my new camera,
packed for a week away from home,
wrote two blog entries,
mopped my kitchen floor,
read Goodnight, Moon twice,
returned library books, and
changed the sheets.

Whew.

If I'd actually taken time to put on my apron, instead of leaving it in a heap on the floor of the pantry, I'd have made a pretty convincing Donna Reed.

A Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, there was a girl.

Sadly, this girl became pregnant, only to lose her first-conceived in an early miscarriage.

Distraught and alone in her sadness, she sought comfort and hope in the sanctuary of sisterhood with those who had also suffered this heartache.

As weeks passed, she formed friendships and bonds with a handful of women from all over the land.

In a few months, she conceived again, and her ladies in waiting cheered her on, until one cold winter’s eve, she delivered a healthy son.

In due time, this girl conceived a third time, only to yet again lose the pregnancy to miscarriage. Her ladies in waiting wept with her; they held her hand; they carried her dreams as their own.

Several months passed. The girl conceived once again. Her ladies in waiting held their breath as each milestone of miscarriage passed – 6 weeks, then 10. The doctor’s wisdom foretold that the child would be another son. All the women rejoiced.

And then, tragedy struck the land.

A son was born; but alas, he was born sleeping, never to wake.

The girl mourned the loss of her child; her ladies in waiting mourned, too. From all across the land, the sound of crying could be heard. What to do in the face of so great a loss?

A sad story, no?

Like all good fairy tales, however, I assure you that there is a happy ending.

You see, this girl is me, and the time is now, and the ladies in waiting are very real. They are my Nesties – the sisters of my heart.

I told you about one of these ladies, Kelly, in this post. Three more of these ladies were spoken of in this post. These women, although brought to me through the modern-day marvel of an Internet chat room, are as real to me as any friends I have ever made. They have held my hand through the loss of four babies – my first, my twins, my Duncan.

They have sent emails. They have called. Cards have arrived in the mail. All needed, all welcome. And yet…..predictable.

And then.

The week after Duncan was born, these showed up via Fed Ex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were full of all this:

I don’t even know how to begin to describe the wonder and thankfulness that filled our hearts as we emptied those two huge Omaha Steaks coolers into our spare freezer. Steaks, chicken, salmon, vegetables, desserts – almost more food than we had storage for. But even in that regard, these girls were on top of things. In addition to the items they selected to have shipped to us, they also sent a gift card with a very generous balance for us to use in the months to come on whatever OS products we choose.

Not only that, several days later, I received this:

In this box were the BEST brownies that I have ever eaten. Brownies so good that I’m going to give them their own post, recipe included, in the near future, because I just love you that much. So, brownies, and two gift cards – one to Starbucks (to be spent selfishly, because – ha, ha! – Jim doesn’t like coffee!) and the other to Target. Seriously. These girls are too much.

But wait.

Remember this?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This says “From, Kelly.” And while I have to say thanks to Kelly for doing the actual ordering, this necklace was actually from ALL of my Nesties. But believe me, there were too many names to list on the card. Thirty-five women love me enough to chip in for such a thoughtful gift. And the thoughtful gift was ON TOP OF the practical gift.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More than enough, right?

Nope.

In addition to the letters, the food, the gift cards, the Lisa Leonard necklace….each week since Duncan’s birth, we have received an additional package of homemade goodies and special treats.

From Kelly, my Angels Embrace figurine and to-die-for brownies.

From Erin, bags of trail mix, wasabi peas (I know! how cool, right?), and peanut butter rice krispie treats.

From Marisa, coffee and truffles, apple cinnamon raisin bread (that made killer French toast), and a toy truck for Seth.

From Renee, oatmeal cookies.

From Val, a beautiful ivory music box.

From Helene, peanut butter cup brownies and chocolate chip cookies with DARK chocolate. (Didn’t I tell you these girls love me?)

I can’t put into words the bond that I share with these women. Some of them have walked with me since Day One. Others have come alongside somewhere during the journey, joining only when they, too, became a childless mother.

Some of those closest to me “in real life,” as we like to say in the chat-room world, have been skeptical of the depth of these online relationships. Well, let me tell you. Their skepticism is fading in the light of such love.

As I said a few days ago in a post to some of my best girls, I wish that these relationships hadn't been forged in the fire of pregnancy loss. But I'd go through that heartache again if it meant gaining each of them.

Someone once said, “Friendship is a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.” I love this quote, in this instance, because I think my girls have proven themselves to be this kind of friend. They gained no benefit from holding my hand in these darks days. Surely, they could have been spared some heartache had they backed away from my grief. Instead, they rolled up their sleeves and got down in the mire and muck with me – holding me up, cheering me on, drying my tears, and feeding me chocolate, as all good girlfriends do.

So, even as I sit here today, with miles of of rough terrain still to travel and fierce dragons to slay as I go, I’m happy to say that I know in my modern day fairy tale, we will all live…

Happily Ever After.

Lisa Leonard Designs

Fabulous, isn’t it?

I betcha want to know where I got it. Well, it was a gift, and I’ll tell you more about the who’s and how’s and why’s of that soon enough. But for now, I just want you to meet the creator of this fabulous necklace.

Lisa Leonard, of Lisa Leonard Designs.

Go ahead. Click on the link. I’ll wait. I know you’ll be gone awhile.

Alrighty, then. Welcome back. Did you find about ten different kinds of fabulousness that are now on your wish list? I thought so.

I’ve had to opportunity to meet Lisa, and let me tell you, she is as sweet and generous as she is talented. Don’t believe me? Check out her personal blog in addition to her online store, and you’ll see for yourself.

I fell in love with the style of Lisa’s jewelry a few months ago, but didn’t allow myself to purchase anything because, ahem, well, you know I sell jewelry, and 98% of the time I wear the jewelry that I sell, so….you see my dilemma.

But then I went to BlissDom ‘09, and my friend Hillary and I got to have lunch with Lisa and her sister Chrissie (equally sweet and uber-talented creator of Flipflops and Applesauce), and I realized that, jewelry-talent notwithstanding, Lisa was one special lady.

She has mastered her craft, and I’m proud to wear one of her beautiful creations. But even moreso, I’m glad I had the opportunity to get to know such a completely gifted and gracious woman, if only for an afternoon. I’m more than happy to send you her way.

I’d love for you to take a look around her design shop, and come back and tell me what you like best. You never know….maybe I’ll host a Lisa Leonard giveaway in the near future….!

Windows Live Writer

In preparation for last week's blog makeover, I'd moved some of the sites I’d linked in my former sidebar off the blog and into my Favorites folder on my laptop. How sad that the sites that I’d listed under “Sites I Love to Surf” hadn’t been visited (by me; of course they get huge traffic) in a sweet forever.

So I’ve been spending some time refamiliarizing myself with them, and I found this gem over at Today’s Creative Blog: Windows Live (which is free to download, and which I already had on my computer) has a feature called Writer.

It is SO cool!

I’m only scratching the surface of what it can do, but so far, I’m loving that I can now blog on what acts like a Word screen – I can change fonts, use quote blocking….I tell you, for this writer, it’s like coming home. =)

And check out this photo:

I cropped it, sharpened it, used something called color pop, framed it, tilted it, and watermarked it! I, so far, like this as much as, if not more than, Picasa and Piknic.

The only detrimental thing so far is that ever since I started using WLW, my scheduled posts are not publishing automatically like they are supposed to. Anyone have a solution or suggestion to offer on that?

Anyway. I know this is about the geekiest post I’ve made y’all endure, well, pretty much ever, but I just thought I’d share. Maybe all you fellow bloggers will enjoy playing with this as much as I am.

(Like was all needed another way to waste time on the computer ~ hah!)

When Support Gets Sidetracked

When we learned that Duncan was no longer alive, Jim and I decided to keep our news relatively quiet until the dust settled, so to speak. Rather than face hoards of questions we didn't have answers to, we chose to ask only those who were closest to us to walk through the dark valley between Saturday and Wednesday.

I knew that I would not get through the anticipation and reality of Duncan's birth without the support of my closest girlfriends, all but one of whom were at least 200 miles away from me. The phone calls to these girls were some of the hardest of my life, for I knew that I would be handing them a heartache almost as deep as my own.

Words and actions and even the moments in silence with these women held me up through some of the darkest days of my life, before, during, and after Duncan's birth.

But as the weeks passed, five of the seven girlfriends were, not of their own choosing, drawn into their own set of drama-filled and unforeseen circumstances that have taken their attention away from me -- and rightfully so, I want to be sure to clarify.

*Point in case:

Erin - stay at home mom to two little ones, husband unexpectedly laid off, facing a cross-country move (to her inlaws home, no less) and leaving a house she has poured her heart and soul into

Jodi - stay at home mom to two little ones, husband accepted new job position resulting in a cross-country move (to her mom's house, no less) while they wait for their house to sell

Kendall - full time career woman who is starting on a very unclear portion of an infertility journey; also, a time zone difference and limited Internet access on her part makes it a challenge for us to get quality communication time

Leigh - stay at home mom to a not-even-one-year-old who became pregnant - SURPRISE! - who is going, essentially, AWOL for a month on a cross-country vacation

Diane - stay at home mom to a two-year old; pregnant and due only 3 days before I was; the pregnancy has become complicated; she has a history of kidney stones and premature labor

Roxy - full time teacher, and wife to a teacher, so you can only imagine what her schedule has been like; she knows the path I'm on only too well, and is feeling the weight of making the decision to try again for a healthy pregnancy and baby

I can't emphasize enough that I'm NOT saying that these women haven't been there for me. That couldn't be further from the truth! I'm merely recognizing that I think God is telling me that I need to let go, to an extent, of my dependence on my girlfriends, and to put more of my dependence back on Him to get through this valley.

I'm also not saying that God gave these circumstance to my girlfriends to teach me a lesson. I know He has a separate plan and intent for each of them, too.

I don't know exactly where I'm going with this post. I guess this entry is really more for those five women.

You each know who you are; you each know (I hope) what you mean to me; I want you to know that whatever time and attention and love you can spare, when you can spare it -- it's enough; I want you to know that even if I'm not "there for you" in your current struggle in the way that I want to be, that I love you, pray for you, think of you daily, and only want God's best for your life.

I'm so thankful that you are my friend, and the sister of my heart. I wish we were geographically closer. I wish that, for most of you, our friendship hadn't been forged in the fire of pregnancy loss. But I'd go through that heartache again if it meant gaining you.

So, hmm.

I guess this turned into more of a personal letter, didn't it? Oh well. It's my blog; I can write what I want to. ;)

*names were changed for privacy

Money back in my pocket. Sorta.

Before I went to Florida with Seth at the beginning of May, I figured I should bite the bullet and buy a maternity swim suit. Of the three bathing suits I had, the two one-pieces no longer stretched over Duncan's bump, and I wasn't sure how comfortable I would be parading him around in my moving-towards-threadbare two-piece.

So, on a trip to Opry Mills with Jen and our brood, I found this suit at Motherhood Maternity. I didn't love it, but it was one of the better choices, and Jen said it looked cute, so, into the cart it went, and I was $50 poorer, just like that.


When I got to Florida the following week, I realized the suit didn't fit all that great, and that I looked pretty decent in my two-piece. So I put the maternity suit, tags and liners and all, back in my suitcase, and enjoyed my time poolside.

Fast forward a week. Obviously, y'all know what happened.

What you may not know is that the Motherhood Maternity return policy is worse than Target's. Really. When you check out, they make you sign a separate receipt that indicates you are aware that all sales are final, blah, blah, blah.

Well, great.

So, here I am, six weeks later, with no baby, and a $50 swim suit that I not only didn't really like, but didn't even need. Re-enter Jen into the scene.

(sidebar: I'm planning on telling y'all more about her soon. She is a gem, and I have been SO blessed to have her by my side, literally, the last four months.)

Recently, Jen came to my rescue and braved the manager at Motherhood Maternity to ask for a full refund on my swimsuit. And, although the manager was insensitive enough to ask Jen for proof of Duncan's death, she eventually agreed to take the unworn suit back. Just like that, I had $50 back in my pocket. Or on the Visa, as it were. I was absolutely prepared for them NOT to take the suit back; after all, I'd signed the disclaimer receipt. But I can't tell you how much this small victory (and the kind of friend who would win it for me) meant in the middle of a rough week. Yea for little blessings like this!

A sunny spot

We received some beautiful flower arrangements in the weeks following Duncan’s birth, and I just wanted to share their beauty with you all today.

From the Wilsons

From our church

From the Wilkersons

From friends at The Hylant Group

From the Danners

Why "The Writer Chic"?

Hi, y'all.

Welcome to my blog. Or, welcome back, as the case may be.

In case you've stumbled across this site by accident, I figured I'd tell you a little bit about why this is called The Writer Chic. Maybe I can persuade you to stay around a while, or at the very least, stop in from time to time to see what is going on in my little corner of the world.

Someone once said, "Our lives, with all their miracles and wonders are merely a discontinuous string of incidents, until we create the narrative that gives them meaning ." Someone else also said, "Use your imagination. Trust me, your life is not interesting. Don't write it down."

I tend to agree with the former.

As it is told by my parents, when I was little, they had a hard time disciplining me for lying. It wasn't that I wasn't telling the truth. I was just telling them my version of it. And trust me, even at three, my version was much more interesting.

I've always been a storyteller, of both fiction and reality. From my first "book" about Sara Scarf being captured by Ratfink Rollerskate (best-seller material, lemme tell you) to handwritten letters, I've spent my lifetime crafting words.

Despite heading off to college with visions of medical school dancing in my head, I graduated summa cum laude with a degree in English and journalism. That granted me access to my first job as a writer/editor for the advertising and publications department of a private liberal arts college. That led to pursuing a master of arts degree in Literature, which led to a profession as an insurance agent. (I know, that doesn't really fit, but that's the truth, and a story for another day.)

The point is, I write.

I write about my past. I write about my future. I write about my family, my home, my friends. I write about my feelings, my fears, my dreams.

I (try to) write without reservation, yet with consideration for my audience. I hope that I come across as sincere and genuine. I hope you come here and take away something that makes you think, makes you smile, makes you a better you.

Mostly, though, I write for me. I write as an act of optimism; I wouldn't bother to do it if I felt it didn't matter. But it does. Every story matters.

Lucky for me, I enjoy the telling of. I hope you enjoy the telling to.

Insomnia

Isn’t that a neat picture? I wanted a photo to accompany this post, so I googled “moon photos” and found this one. I just thought that the way the clouds formed to reveal only this portion of moonlight was haunting and romantic and beautiful all at the same time.

I’m actually writing this post at 10 pm on Tuesday. Jim is asleep across the room from me, and The Deadliest Catch is on in the background.

I know that it is time to go to bed, but I don’t want to.

Oh, I’m tired enough. Today was a full day of running and mommying and shopping for new master bedroom bedding and cooking and emailing and blogging and cleaning and laundering and all the other –ings that I have fill up my days.

But in the past several days, going to bed has brought little, if any, rest.

It seems that as soon as I settle in, the silence becomes deafening. Well, maybe silence isn’t quite the right word. Jim’s even breathing, the whir of the ceiling fan, the tick tock from the bathroom clock – all familiar and even soothing sounds.

Yet.

It is only when I attempt to pillow my head that my being slows enough – calms enough – for me to hear myself think. And inevitably, I do, and almost without fail, my thoughts turn to Duncan.

His sweet face, red and wrinkled, materializes before my mind’s eye. I sigh. I don’t want to think about him – about what happened. It hurts so. But in the pseudo-silence, I can’t help but let my mind replay the events of a month ago.

Some nights, I re-walk Saturday’s steps: to Dr. Rohr’s office, where Joel tried to find Duncan’s heartbeat; to the Labor & Delivery ward at Toledo Hospital; to my parents to deliver the news; back to my in-laws, where I finally and completely fell apart in my mother-in-laws arms.

Some nights, it’s Monday that I replay: haggling with the insurance company on the phone; lunch at Bravo! with Jim (“can I get some pinot, please?”); the laminaria insertion crisis; talking to Kendra for hours that night – long enough to stave off the benefits of my Ambien.

But no matter the chapter read, without fail, this is how I spend my late night hours. And I’m growing weary of it.

Not the thinking of Duncan, or even of the circumstances of his life.

But the insomnia. It is severe and it is complete. I don’t even know the last night I spent in my own bed, for after an hour or two of tossing and turning and fearing that I’ll wake Jim, I move to the guest room to toss and turn in private. Eventually, I drift into a fitful sleep, and wake, anything but refreshed, to –ing all over again.

So, tonight, I decided to take these some twenty-odd minutes to write about the plight, in hopes that I’ll get it out of my system.

Tonight, I hope that once I hit publish, that I’ll be able to enjoy a restful night, on my beautiful new sheets, next to my wonderful husband.

I toss my sleep-preventing thoughts to you tonight, Interpeeps. Do with them what you will.

***UPDATE***

12:02 AM: I’m still awake; eating Quaker Caramel Drizzle Rice Cakes, watching Jimmy Fallon, wondering when sleep will come.

1:33 AM: Still here. Sigh.

Make new friends and keep the old; one is silver, the other is ....

Doug and Sara.

One of the worst things about leaving Ohio was leaving some of our best friends. One of the best things about moving to Nashville is that we give those friends a great place to visit.

We did a lot of this this past weekend:

Laughing, eating, just hanging out with the people we love most -- the ones who know everything about you and love you anyway, the ones who you share the best stories with, the ones who've been there through it all.

Jim had to go out of town at the last minute on business, so Doug and Sara actually drove to Nashville sooner than Jim could fly home. Which ended up being a great thing, because Doug was able to clean and prep the grill to his satisfaction on Friday night. It was done in an attempt to get it ready for Jim the minute he pulled in the driveway, but Jim's flight ended up being so late that Doug did the majority of the cooking, too. We had bourbon peppercorn chicken, lemon garlic chicken, steak fillets, garlic cheddar mashed potatoes, grilled asparagus, and honey-glazed carrots. Oh, so yummy, and the perfect way to kick start our weekend.

Saturday, we ditched the original plan of visited the famed Pancake Pantry in hopes of sleeping in. No such luck on the sleeping in, but we still enjoyed a lazy morning. With dreams of the incomparable Jack's barbecue dancing in our heads, we headed off to Opry Mills for a little quality time at Bass Pro....wait. That was just Doug's fantasy.

We did head to Opry Mills, but some quick thinking on my part and some eyelash-batting from both Sara and I resulted in some ALONE girl time to shop (score, Old Navy tanks for $2!!!) and a relaxing lunch at Chili's, while the boys plus Seth went to Bass Pro, and then to lunch. As we parted ways in the parking lot, Sara instructed, "Now don't you two old married men with the baby stroller be getting yourselves hit on by any hot chics!" (We laughed, but the joke ended up being on us girls.)

Tragically, Jack's was too crowded, so the boys ended up at Hooters. Yep, that Hooters, with the orange shorts and white tanks.... Anyway, apparently, our hubbys are uber-charming, and with the added bonus of Seth...let's just say, when we got home later that afternoon, we found a treat hidden away in Seth's diaper bag: pecan pie! Who knew we both got such irresistible guys?

We parted ways again while the boys headed to Best Buy to haggle with the world's worst manager (hats off to you, Darius. Now you're stuck with the dented fridge), and Sara and I headed to Target to camera shop.

(sidebar: our camera bit the dust for good on Thursday, so photos will be on hiatus until it is replaced. I did find one at Target I liked, but they are out of stock, so, on to looking for it elsewhere.)

Now, for the best part of the weekend! DATE NIGHT.

Jim and I arranged for our first babysitter since we've been in Tennessee, and who knows when the last time Doug and Sara got to enjoy a night on the town. So we (females) got all dolled up -- Doug, you too, I guess. You looked quite fetching in your Tigers ball cap -- and headed into downtown Music City, USA.

After strolling down Second Avenue (and by stroll, I of course mean stepping in horse poop - see evidence below), we decided on dinner at Big River Grille and Brewery. I was the only one who didn't opt for a pizza, and paid for it. My dinner was less than marginal, but the pizza's got a thumbs up. Dine at your own risk, I guess, and avoid the smoked chicken enchiladas.

After dinner, we headed to The Big Bang.

Oh. My. Heavens.

I don't care who you are, what your taste in music is, or whether you drink (alcohol) or not. If you are ever in Nashville (or anywhere with a Big Bang, I'd venture to guess), you HAVE to check out this dueling piano bar. It was phenomenal.

We got there early enough (about 8:30?) that we didn't have to pay the cover charge and that we got great seats. We stayed for almost two hours, and were thoroughly entertained, by not only the uber-talented musicians, but by the horribly intoxicated coeds who were trying oh-so-hard to look cool and pick up any and every bachelorette-party attendee in the house. Again, evidence -- the parade of prepsters:

After a great (?) breakfast at our traditional Cracker Barrel (holla, Uncle Herschel!!!), we packed up Doug and Sara with a cooler of salmon and Jack's bbq pork, and sent them on their way back to the great state of Ohio and their three little ones.

Doug, Sara -- we already miss you! And don't forget -- this trip is now an annual event!

The madness that was May

When we came home from our most recent trip to Ohio on June 6, Seth immediately ran up the stairs and into his room.

He squealed, "my bed!," and climbed up and buried his grinning face in the matress. He proceeded to take a four-hour nap. Four. Hour. It might have been longer if I'd let him sleep, but it was after 6 pm, and I figured he needed to eat.

I couldn't believe he'd slept so soundly, so solidly, for an afternoon nap. Poor little guy, I thought.
Then, the next day, I went to remove our May calendar off the dry erase board in our kitchen, and on a whim, I counted up the number of days we were home and in our own beds during the month of May.

Out of 31 days in May (plus the first 5 in June)....

...we were home for only 10.

Between Florida, Ohio, back to Tennessee, back to Ohio, hospitals, grandparents, etc... No wonder he was happy to see his own bed.

Now that we've been home for a solid two weeks, I have to say, Dorothy had it pretty figured out: there is no place like home.

They're not THAT toxic

We keep our family calendar on a dry erase board in the kitchen. I have a 10 pack of markers that I use on it. This is what those markers look like:

Except for the red one.
The red one looks like this:


That's because Seth ate the tip off it.

Ahem. Let me just hand back my "Mother of the Year" award.

I didn't even know he knew what they were. Oops.

Splish splashin'

One of the first things I did upon moving to Nashville was to explore the mommy groups at meetup.com. I found one that I thought would fit Seth and I, and only a few weeks after settling into our new home, I met three other moms-of-boys at Opry Mills for lunch and shopping.


I have only averaged about one meetup a month -- play dates, picnics, and the like. I'm super glad that I made a point to attend a recent event, though.


One of the outdoor malls in our area has public sprinkler fountains -- a literal godsend on the 90+ degree days we've been having. And after indulging in some yummy double dark chocolate ice cream with fresh raspberries from Marble Slab Creamery, the fountains were next on our agenda.


Seth LOVED them. I don't know that I've ever seen him more exuberant. The video doesn't quite do him justice. Just take the joy you see, and multiply it by a hundred. That might come close.

Here are some more still photos from our fun afternoon.

Milestone - One

Today really isn't our "first" milestone.

We've already passed the saying goodbye, the funeral home, the first week, returning to TN, ordering the urn, postpartum visits with my doctors, returning newborn clothing, etc.

But today marks one month since we welcomed Duncan in our arms.

One month since I was given the gift of a vaginal delivery, something I was told I'd never experience. One month since I truly saw the depths of my husband's faith. One month since I looked at the never-to-open eyes of my second son and felt absolute recognition. One month.

I would have been 29 weeks pregnant tomorrow. It hurts so much that I'm not.

Duncan,

You have known nothing but the joy of heaven, and for that I am grateful. But Mommy is selfish. I want you here.

You have the coolest big brother ever; I wish with all my heart that you would be toddling along after him. And if you think Seth is cool...oh, you would just adore your daddy. Seth gets all his coolness from him.

And me? Well, I don't know how cool I am, but I think I do pretty well in the loving department. You would be -- you ARE -- so loved, little fighter. I would have loved to have had more than 12 hours to rock you, hold you, sing to you. If it would have kept you close to me, I'd have gladly stayed 6 months pregnant forever.

As each day passes, you become more real to me. Your absence is felt more profoundly. You are missing from our home. You are missing from my arms.

You are gone, but you are anything but forgotten.

Happy one month birthday, baby boy.

I love you so.

Mommy

PS: One of the ministries we have been personally blessed by is Sufficient Grace Ministries for Women. Yesterday, I learned of a blogger who is donating $1 to this worthy ministry for every comment left on her blog. Please, go here and leave a comment. So many we'll never meet will benefit from the funds raised to support Kelly and her team at Sufficient Grace. Thank you!

And it just keeps growing

Remember the "pregnant list" post from last week?

Well, since I published that, the list has morphed a little. Two of the ladies on the list delivered healthy baby boys in the last week.

So, yea! The list went down to 18.

But then, on Monday, I received back-to-back emails from very close girlfriends, letting me know that they are expecting their second babies this winter.

Wednesday, two more girlfriends announced their pregnancies. One is her second, after multiple losses; the other is her third, after a recent loss. Honestly, their losses make it a little easier to stomach. How sick is that? That miscarriage and stillbirth and infant loss has taken my psyche to a place where I think those who have suffered loss are somehow more entitled to a healthy baby. I'm sorry. But if I'm being honest, it's how I feel.

Anyway.

On a different note, but kind of related is my "disclaimer" for this post.

Recently, someone questioned how I knew to write the "warning: random posts ahead" post last Sunday. I had to admit that I'd already written six posts for this week. She was surprised. She also blogs and said, "I just write about whatever is current [in my life]."

Well, yeah. That makes sense. And it's what I do, too. Normally.

But I had to confess that I was afraid to write what was "current" with me, because chances would strongly lean toward posts all about Duncan, or how I was feeling about Duncan, or how much I miss Duncan, or how I'd give anything to still be pregnant with Duncan...

And while nothing increases blog traffic like a tragic event (I nearly doubled my followers when Duncan was born), I would think nothing would deter readers faster than hearing, over and over, about my melancholy.

So....I've just been posting non-emotional, random fodder. But I think that's about run its course, so I hope y'all can put up with some heavier posts in the coming weeks. Because I need to be real with you, and right now, real isn't very pretty.

Overdue Pampering

No, we aren't a wedding party.

Andrea and Kasey

Nope, none of us are related.

Renee, Ginger, and Carrie

No, really, we're not celebrating anything in particular.

Me and Beth

We're just a bunch of mommies who needed a little "me" time.

My toes - ooh la la

"Me" time, and some carbs at a yummy Italian restaurant.

Ladies Night at Carraba's

You know, the kind of restaurant where someone else brings food to the table, carries away the dishes, and doesn't call you Mommy.

The pedicurist could have been a little more chipper, and I certainly could have eaten less, but the company was superb and I can't wait to do it again!

Wordless Wednesday

Million dollar smile

In my family, the phrase "million dollar smile" gets tossed around a lot. I've always been a "teeth showing smile" kind of girl. (If I had our photo scanner hooked up, I could show you childhood proof, too.)

For example, this picture is a pretty fair representation:



(Don't mind the Rudloph nose; this picture was taken at a Christmas party a lifetime ago.)

Anyway, I digress.

The "million dollar" title has been mine, pretty much exclusively, for as long as I can remember.

But you tell me, and be honest.

Think I have some competition?

I love these boys. ***sigh***

Father's Day is THIS Sunday!

In honor of Father's Day, I need you all to help me choose which of the following pictures is your favorite. There is a reason I need your votes, so I'm making it easy. There is a poll on the sidebar, so simply select a photo, 1 through 6.

Voting is only open until midnight CST on Thursday!

(1) about 1 week old

(2) first visit to the Pacific Ocean

(3) Father's Day 2008

(4) asleep after lunch

(5) Thanksgiving 2008

(6) killing time during a thunderstorm

Thanks in advance for your help, and of course, feel free to leave a comment telling me how adorable my boys are! ;)

I've got my game face on

With all of my recent trips to various hospitals and to numerous doctor's offices, you'd think I'd have already seen my obgyn, Dr. Morgan, in the last month. But between her vacation, our second trip to Ohio, and conflicting schedules, we actually hadn't seen each other since before Seth and I went to Florida.

However, Jim and I were finally able to sit down with her and discuss what is going on with my body right now, and what will be going on with it in the coming months.

While we wait for her to receive the results of the placental testing from Promedica (in Ohio), we will be set up with a Maternal Fetal Medicine group here in Nashville. This group of specialists will be overseeing my Recurrent Pregnancy Loss (RPL) panel (a series of blood work tests) and any subsequent pregnancy/ies that I may have here in Nashville.

These tests are structured to look for any abnormality or disorder that I have that is interfering with my pregnancies. I know some of you may be thinking, "why haven't they done this testing already?," and it's a legitimate question. Most doctors will not even think about this series of tests until a patient has had two, and more often three, miscarriages. We were planning on having RPL testing done once we'd moved to Tennessee, but became pregnant with Duncan too quickly.

Because these tests need to be run when a patient is not pregnant, we will be waiting several more weeks to make entirely sure that all my hormone levels have returned to normal. Once the testing is done, we should receive the results within a few weeks.

Dr. Morgan is confident that we will get our answer. I think she is leaning toward me having an autoimmune blood clotting disorder. This is one of the better case scenarios, as most clotting disorders can be treated in such a way to increase the odds of a successful, full-term pregnancy into the 90th percentile.

Here's where my blood pressure starts to rise, as my brain spins around all the possible ways this testing could go.

~ the testing could show a specific wrong that is treatable. Then we would have to decide whether the risk is worth trying another pregnancy.
~ the testing could show a specific wrong that is NOT treatable. Then we would have to decide what form of permanent sterility is best for Jim and I.
~ the testing could be inconclusive. We'd then be back to deciding if the risk to my health could be too great to attempt another pregnancy.
~ the testing could show a treatable wrong, and only one of us would want to pursue another pregnancy, while the other thinks the risk is to great.

And those are only the questions that pertain to another biological pregnancy.

Overall, though, both Jim and I were encouraged after our appointment with Dr. Morgan. We feel like we have a game plan, even though the next step is still a few weeks off. Most likely, we will have all the information needed to make our next decision by the end of the summer.

Please keep this situation -- specifically the RPL -- in your prayers. We have made it very clear to our doctors that this is the only testing we plan to pursue, so we are, in a manner, putting all our eggs in this one basket, as far as getting any answers go.

It's an unsettling place to be in. We want to do what is best for our family, and best for my health, and at times, we just don't know what direction to go. This is something you don't plan for. You plan for your children's college fund; you plan for retirement. But just the having of a baby? It's supposed to be simpler than this.