A Broken Hallelujah

Christmas Card 2010

2010-12-05T16:36:00.001-05:00

Glad Plaid Green Christmas 5x7 folded card

Shop Shutterfly for elegant custom Christmas photo cards.

View the entire collection of cards.

Christmas Card Craziness!

2010-12-01T18:43:00.005-05:00

I'm learning to let go. Slowly. A bit white knuckle-y. Hopefully with a bit of humor, too.

I get stuck on how I envision things. I want things to be perfect. In this perfect view, I can whip up some handmade/designed cards in a flash and be infinitely pleased with the results.

In real life? I just stare at the screen, get mad about the color calibration, get frustrated about not having any decent pics, and then give up.

Last year I used new scrapbooking and photo-editing software my husband bought for me. I spent hours working on the card (the software was new!). The result? Decent.

This year, I'm letting go.

Shutterfly has made it easy. They have 100s of choices in a plethora of themes and color schemes. I LOVE the big 5x7 cards, because you can really see the pic and it leaves lots of room for fun designs, as well.

Shutterfly also makes picking out your card easy. With all the choices, it's nice to narrow them down with a few simple clicks: you can search by number of pics you want to use, by the main color you'd like the card to be and the kind of card you'd like (size, flat, folded). I know we're only using one picture, so it was easy to find my two favorites:
We live in a city. We do! Indianapolis counts!!

Love the border around the picture!

It was fun to get the family in on the decision, too. I narrowed it down to about 10 of my favorites, then Miriam picked these two. Chris likes the city one, which is the one I'm leaning toward, as well. Once we get our digital photo, though, I'll pick the card that works best with the pic!

Wanna check out your own Shutterfly cards? Here are some good starting points:
Christmas cards

General Holiday Cards

Too busy to send Christmas cards? How about doing photo Thank You cards?
Kill two birds with one stone: Christmas-y and Thank you-y!

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Fall, 2010

2010-11-29T16:55:00.007-05:00

First of all, our nephew, Israel, nearly died at the end of October and continues to struggle in the hospital...you can keep track of how he's doing at his Caring Bridge site. My youngest brother, Jon, is Izzy's papa and both Jon and his wife, Dani, would appreciate your prayers.

I can't believe we are already into the Christmas season. With everything going on with Izzy, the fall slipped by us. We did, however, manage to have some good family times.

The kids made candy bags with me. Here's Noah with his:

The kids loved carving pumpkins. Noah didn't want to wait to carve his and did it right after the pumpkin day at school. We had such a warm fall, though, that it didn't last until Hallowe'en.

The kids were super involved in their costumes this year. Miriam planned hers based on the Pom-poms I had gotten her last year. We found clothes to match and then freezer paper stenciled the "H" on the front of her shirt. Many people thought the "H" was for homeschool, but she intended it to be for "Hallowe'en." Alex had very strong opinions about his policeman outfit and it took a very long time to get it just right. We got two badges and used one on an old blue ballcap and one on his shirt. He had a walkie-talkie in his holster (Daddy said no play guns in our neighborhood!) Noah wanted to be a Good Knight again this year, so we recycled a costume from 2 years ago. His sword had broken, though, and he saw one at Dollar Tree, so we used that instead of a handmade one...and of course, we needed the shield to match! Noah won "most original" costume at a neighborhood event we went to; he was quite pleased!

We had a lovely Thanksgiving...more on that on the next post.

Two Years

2010-04-19T21:01:00.002-05:00

Two years ago I was holding my lifeless baby and feeling pretty lifeless myself. This past week I attended Calvin's Festival of Faith and Writing. At the session with Ed Dobson and Sara Miles, Miles spoke about the difference between healing and curing. She spoke of a woman, dying from breast cancer, who was estranged from her son. Over the course of her illness, which would eventually take her life, she and her son managed to forgive, repair and restore. Their relationship with completely, fully healed, while she was completely, fully NOT cured.

This resonated with me in such a way that I can hardly speak about it--and writing about it is not much easier. I feel as if I am healing from the loss of Hazel, but I am not cured. I will never be cured of the loss. Her death, the desire to have had the privilege of raising her, will always, ALWAYS, be part of me. And at this point, I wouldn't have it any other way. The first few weeks after her death, the idea that I would carry my grief forever was almost more than I could bear. But I did bear it, thanks to friends, family and a God who understands my grief while still forcing me to walk through it.

But cured or healed, whichever word you choose hardly matters, because I am not yet healed. I catch myself sinking deeper into an unreal life--hiding behind my computer and my books. I hardly do any crafts, baking, fun householdy-type-stuff anymore--shoot, I hardly read anymore. I just waste time, watching the clock and waiting for the time to pass. Not everyday is like this, of course. If I didn't have the homeschool co-op and other responsibilities at church (and friends who lovingly expect me to fulfill my obligations) I think I would already be in a deep state of denial and depression, but still, I am getting a little scared that if I don't give myself a good kick in the ass, I'll be lost and my kids will be grown and I'll be saying, "Wait! I wanted to..."

A break...

2009-06-14T19:45:00.002-05:00

from my moaning.

Just wanted to encourage anyone with children who like dolls to check out the giveaway from Things Moms Like. It's for Karito Kids a sort-of-like-American-Girls-Dolls company.

The dolls are not just American, though, and seem to be fairly free of stereotypes (the American doll is blond...but so is the Australian one). The company also donates 3% of the retail price of the dolls to either housing, schooling, food or health charities.

My only "complaint" is that their faces seem older than the 11 year olds they are supposed to be--a little BRATZ reminiscent.

Miriam has been saving to get an American Girl doll since she found out about them. She was given a very used one and is going to get that one fixed up to start with (she has enough money for that!). It's fun to watch her get so into something, but I'd like her to be aware of more than what she wants and what is fun. Perhaps the Karito dolls are more the way to go.

Marching on...

2009-06-10T20:21:00.002-05:00

There's a little one asleep in our living room right now who is about 6 weeks younger than Hazel should be. She's precious and chubby and was snorting a bit as she settled into sleep. Watching her snuggle with Chris was surreal. Our family should include a little just that size! How strange! I can hardly imagine it.

Yet, I can hardly imagine life without Hazel.

One of our friends asked if it's hard to see all the babies turning one. I expected it to be, truly. But it hasn't been--not even a little bit. I miss my baby. I miss that newborn I never got to snuggle. At least for now Hazel is just a tiny, little new baby--not a crawler or babbler or toddler. I kind of hope it stays that way. I'm not sure I can handle a grief that grows along with the age of my dead child.

Over a year.

2009-04-24T20:19:00.003-05:00

We made it through last week with many tears, but with the reassurance that we are continuing to "make it." Our grief for Hazel; our awareness of the empty space she left has been woven into our family, into our life, into our day-to-day emotions. We fumbled and fought and grieved and shouted lots of unhelpful things, but we've found our way to a healthy new normal. And for that I'm glad.

This time last year I was overwhelmed all the time with the face that I would NEVER not miss Hazel; that this was one pain that would never heal. That is so true. I have moments when the grief is still that raw, when I can barely breathe, when I'm overcome by jealousy. I still feel as if I'm dancing around depression, sometimes simply incapable of making myself do the things that need to be done.

However, but and even so--I'm also way more likely to get up off the couch and do something, I laugh a lot, I sew and knit a bit, I've been reading fiction again--and signs that I'm balancing out.

This anniversary week hit harder than I expected. I've been so focused on Noah and his treatments, that Hazel was forced in the background (which is how it should be, if you know what I mean--grieving for the dead should not overtake our care of the living!) We found ways to mark the day: weeding her garden, looking through her things, etc...

On Monday, Chris, Noah and I took hats, blankets and a preemie outfit to the hospital to donate in Hazel's memory. My aunt, some friends and I knitted most of the items, but a couple were purchased, as well. We gave over 50 hats, a few blankets, a quilt and a cute preemie outfit. These items will mostly be used for babies who are born still, born straight to heaven, born silent--the rest will be used for NICU babies and other little ones who need a warm hat or a comforting blanket.

The items we were given from the hospital, those few mementos, are all we have to hold of Hazel. The clothes she wore, the hat, the footprints. I hope that the parents whose babies wear these items will feel the love with which they were made.

Last Year,

2009-04-12T21:32:00.002-05:00

on this day I was hospitalized with pregnancy complications. Ironically, all was well with the baby. I was sick about leaving my other kids at home, worried about the baby, but not for a minute believing that the baby wouldn't make it. Those thoughts crossed my mind (don't they cross every expectant mother's mind??), but I thought I would soon be home and all would be well.

I've been feeling filled-with-dread sick over this week. I'm trying to just let myself feel what I feel and go with that. But I'm afraid, a little bit, of going off the deep end.

I miss my baby; I miss Hazel.

And he's four!

2009-03-28T15:47:00.003-05:00

Noah's fourth birthday was celebrated officially last Sunday, but he also had a mini-celebration with our family on his actual day. He spent the day getting chemo, but was feeling pretty good that night. Presents and popsicles probably helped with that!

I will continue to post here off and on, especially as the anniversary of Hazel's death and birth is coming close (How I miss my daughter!), but if you want regular updates on us and Noah's treatment, I encourage you to check out his CaringBridge site:
Noah James.

Miriam's tooth

2009-03-20T21:15:00.006-05:00

Miriam is my first child to loose a tooth! It's been a fun week or so of wobbling the tooth, showing it to friends and strangers alike. It finally came out this week (while Meemaw was visiting!)

She looks worried; I'm not sure why. She was smiling and giggling and silly. She tried to run home across the parking lot, but couldn't because the tooth was in an uncovered cup. She slowed to a walk. Then she'd get so excited to get to me that she'd start to run again. stop. start. It was funny to watch!

What the tooth fairy brought:

We don't "do" Santa or the Easter Bunny, but I love fairy and make believe and pretend, so I enjoyed this whole thing very much. And most importantly, Miriam loved it. The matchbox idea was adapted from Family Fun. The little note idea was adapted from MollyCoddle.

I made a comment that night before bed about the tooth fairy and she leaned close and said, "We know the tooth fairy is our mom and dad." and I said, "but even moms and dads like to pretend". Her response? "Oh! I like to pretend, too! I'll pretend with you!" After that, it's been lots of fun pretending, all around.

Craziness.

2009-02-15T15:07:00.006-05:00

Have you ever looked at your recent history and thought, "Wow. I'm playing a part in a really bad tear-jerker"?

I was just thinking about Facebook and how so many of my friends from long ago have had no contact with me up until the last year. The Year of Hell, as we like to refer to it here in our humble abode. Our nephew's death, losing Hazel, a Chris's beloved Grandfather's death, my Dad's illness, Noah's lymphoma--all of these things look like they add up to a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad year.

And you know what? They do. In a lot of ways they do.

But, when you think of us, please don't just think about Hazel or Noah's illness. There's so much more to us than these losses and worries.

We're happy, in an odd sort of way. Our faith is secure. (Although I am not Job; give me a break, please!) Our friends, neighbors and family have been incredibly supportive; our community has held our grief and worry as their own. We've been shown love in ways that are beyond humbling. Today an older neighbor lady brought us a few bags of groceries. Fresh fruit, some hamburger, potatoes--good things for us!

We laugh, too, and we enjoy the humor that surrounds us. If you need a laugh, Englewood is the place to be; I've never before been around such gifted story tellers! On a side note, as much as we've enjoyed humor the last few months, I've learned that my Kevin Smith switch has been turned off. Kind of a bummer, really, but that last movie? Ick. I was looking forward to it, too; The girl's name was Miriam! Maybe I just need to watch Mallrats, again.

Noah James

2009-02-11T23:47:00.003-05:00

We found out last week that Noah, our youngest living child, has lymphoma. Cancer. We've spent the last week finding a doctor, getting him into the children's hospital here and now the hard work will begin.

Tomorrow Noah has surgery to do several things: remove one of the nodes for a biopsy (we need to name the lymphoma--we think it's Hodgkin's, which would be good, as it's the most curable form), put in a central line--this allows access like an IV would, but remains under his skin for easy access, check his bone marrow--this is to help stage the cancer.

The Oncologist said he would like to be able to start treatment next week, so we need to name it, stage it and figure out how to cure it.

My baby has cancer.

On top of the obvious worries is my concern for my older 2 kids. They are definitely feeling the tension (especially Miriam, she is very much a girl in this respect. Alex knows we're worried, but he's thrilled to get to sleep over at a friend's house, spend the afternoon with his teacher, etc). Right now, here at the beginning, there is some fun stuff--the aforementioned sleep overs, hanging out at friend's houses--but I know this will get old. And Noah is getting TONS of attention, which is helpful in some ways. But Noah is already getting "touched out". And Miriam and Alex need attention, too. They are worried, too.

Cancer sucks.

Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009

2008-12-31T22:47:00.003-05:00

I have weird feelings about saying goodbye to this year. It's been terrible in a lot of ways, but also pretty amazing. I've watched others deal with a lot of shit, honestly, and do it well. I've learned I can handle more than I thought possible.

As much as I've been telling myself that having experienced The Worst Year of My Life doesn't guarantee that I won't have another terrible year (we carry our grief, we bear our mourning, we wear our black into the new year)...I also (paradoxically?) find myself feeling more than a little sad that I'm entering into a year with no Hazel in it. Does that sound strange? Memories, yes, but not my actual little girl.

We had a wonderfully calm, warm, festive get together tonight with Matthew and Jena and their family. I had a lovely time. "Warm" is the right word. I felt warmed, literally, by the spirits imbibed, but also figuratively, surrounded by friends and family who care. It was good.

At one point, Matthew asked me if I was making any resolutions. Up until then, I hadn't planned to--I never keep them, why make them to begin with? But I've been thinking about it the rest of the evening and now have some general, live-up-to-able, resolutions to share.

1-Be healthier. I've been terrible about my health since Hazel's death. I figure it should be pretty easy to meet this one. Shoot, if I drink a few less cokes and eat a few less sugary treats, I'm good! Really, though, my goal is to start making some healthier choices. To move more. Eat more good stuff, etc.

2-Get more organized. I'm making a list. Adding things from here and here. I'm trying not to get caught up in making my binder look cute and then never actually getting it organized.

2a-Make a list of projects I really plan to complete. And try to complete it. By projects, I mean things like--the doll for Miriam and the cookbook for our church that had been languishing for year. sigh. I do better with a list--so I need to make that list!

3-Play more with my kids. I'm around them a lot. Listen a lot, but they don't "need" me to join in their play because they usually just play together...but I think I may need to join in their play. I need some space to quit worrying about grown up stuff and just play. My brother, Jared, decided not to play "grown up games" with us last week because he really just wanted to hang out with his kiddos and watch them play. I want to want that, too! (How's that for one doozy of a sentence?)

So general resolutions they are. Easy to rationalize away. We'll see how it goes.

Jena said she heard today that July 4th should be the day for resolutions (declarations of independence, yk?), so maybe that will be my chosen to day to check in a reevaluate.

Sad news...

2008-12-06T23:05:00.003-05:00

This season, the season of celebrating the birth of the most miraculous, scandalous Baby in history is going to make me think of my own baby who is not with us. My own little stillborn Hazel. We miss her and although I anticipated some grief during this season (Last year, at this time, I was growing big and switched to maternity clothes. Last year, at this time, we announced her coming birth), it's not unbearable.

The season will be nearly unbearable for friends of ours, who will be going to the hospital on Monday to deliver their own stillborn child. If you are a praying person, please pray for them and their other two children. If you've been through this--honestly even if you have perfectly healthy babies--you can imagine what hell they are going through.

Pray peace for these parents as the see their baby. Pray that they will feel peaceful about all the myriad decisions that they need to make (and don't want to have to be making!!)

One thing I've learned is when loss hits you like this, you make the best decisions you can in the moment and then later, when you doubt yourself, you need to remind yourself of that. Over the next few months, while these parents go through their own fresh mourning, I would like for them to not doubt their decisions, but to feel peace in those, at least.

Lord have mercy on us. Christ have mercy on us. Lord have mercy on us.

And bring us peace.

Hallowe'en

2008-11-03T17:57:00.005-05:00

We had a great Hallowe'en this year. Alex and Miriam are both old enough to really get into their own costumes. Noah had definite ideas of what he wanted to be (a knight) and what he wanted as part of his costume (a helmet that went "up and down" and a sword.)

It was fun just hanging out with the kids and planning their costumes. I'm so glad we didn't just buy them something. And can I say that where knights are concerned, duct tape is a wonderful thing?

Miriam said from the get-go that she wanted to be Fancy Nancy. She simply picked out her "most fancy" outfit and chose accessories from the dress up box. I knitted her a boa and she was set.

There was great debate within Noah, that slowly came out as we talked. He kept saying he wanted to be a "mean might" (his "n" sound is nearly always "m"). When I asked why, he said "I want a sword." Miriam explained to him "Good knights carry swords, too, Noah. They just only fight with bad knights." After talking this through a bit, he decided he would be a good knight after all. He also decided that I should be a bad knight, so I'm getting an inkling of what his feelings toward ME must be right now.

Alex vacillated between three things: A superhero of his own creation, an astronaut, an airplane. All of them were great ideas. We even gathered the supplies to make the airplane. I was thrilled when he decided on the superhero, because I thought it was so creative. He was "Weatherman". He could make it rainy or sunny. The only thing he came up with that we couldn't do was draw a sun on one palm and rain drops on the other (b/c I couldn't figure out a way to keep them from smudging and getting all over everything).

It was a warm, sunny evening and I had fun playing with the camera. Miriam was a goof, as usual, Alex was super into his "character" and Noah was practicing smiling a real smile instead of the grimace he usually supplies when asked for a smile.

April 18, 2008

2008-10-18T10:20:00.000-05:00

If you had asked me one year ago if I could be strong enough to get through the stillbirth of my child, I would have said, "No way." My heart aches for Hazel pretty much every day. I look at her pictures every day; I look at her mementos often (They are never enough). I miss her immensely.

But I am living through this.

It took months for the numbness to wear off completely, for me to be able to go to sleep with out the sleepiness brought by Benadryl. Now, just six months after Hazel's sill birth, I am still keenly mourning Hazel, but I am also enjoying my life and my other children. Things seem darker--or a little less bright, but I am still enjoying things. I cry, I wonder why, I wish it had been different, but I do not wallow.

And honestly, I can't belive it. I thought Hazel's death would fell me, would ruin me. But I live, balancing my grief for her, my desire to hold her with my love of life, my husband, my other children.

I do not believe God did this to me. I do not believe my Hazel grew wings or became an angel. I don't proclaim to know what Heaven will be like or how we will be united to her again. But I do believe that God has provided strength, the ability to face this grief, and the courage to trust.

Six months.

2008-10-15T10:30:00.001-05:00

Six months ago, April 15th my baby died; my life changed; my family's life changed. Six months ago I still didn't know if the baby I was already grieving was a boy or a girl. (I don't know if I'll ever completely forgive myself for not finding out gender--that one "exciting" decision kept me in mourning limbo for 3 days; I couldn't name my baby; I didn't know for whom I was longing.)

We now speak words we never dreamed, have pain we never imagined. My children relate to things in ways I never wanted. Yesterday. in response to "I love you, my sweet baby" Noah said, "I'm not your baby, Mama, your baby died."

I suppose it's good that this kind of language feels natural and not scary to him, but I feel a mother's deep sadness every time I'm reminded of their strange grief.

This is the time that is supposed to be hardest. The sixth month mark. Half a year. It was one year ago that I got that first faint-faint positive on the pregnancy test. One year ago that I told a friend the nervous-making secret.

I had a dream last week that I was pregnant. I spent half the next day feeling ill and overwhelmed, trying to get my body to understand that it was just a dream. I was a nervous wreck nearly all day because of a dream.

I still can't hold the little babies at church. It makes me ache. It makes me feel selfish and self-indulgent in all the worst ways.

Our lives would be so very different if our baby had lived. One of the most guilt-inducing things about this loss is when I think "wow! I would never have been able to do THIS with a baby". But for every one of those moments there are 10 moments of longing and wishful thinking.

Midnight. No movement.
Lying next to Noah.
Still no sleep there.
An incision.
Numbness.
Still, the numbness.

Etc, Whatever

2008-09-15T08:32:00.005-05:00

I am without consistent internet access, thus the serious lack of consistent blogging. I miss it, though.

We've been invited to take part in a memorial walk/ceremony for babies lost this year through miscarraige, still birth and early infant loss. I'm conflicted about what to do. I feel as if I've done enough ceremonies. But, the catch for me is that they are reading the babies' names aloud, if parents wish. I would get to hear her perfect, beloved name.

We can also write a poem or remembrance for our little one, our Hazel. I asked Chris if he wanted to, but he declined, so I've been working on one over the last few days. It's very imperfect. I'm too emotional about losing Hazel to write something dispassionate or observant, so it's just raw, I guess.

We knew how to prepare for you:
Clothes and diapers washed,
Room rearranged,
Siblings excited.

But we don't know how to mourn you:
Memorials? Walks? Tears?
Gardens? Jewelry? Books?
Poetry? Talk? More Talk?

How can we even begin to mourn you?
Your curls, your chubby legs, your stubborn kicks.
But we learn, we cry, we even smile.
We live with your loss,
our sweet baby girl, born still.

Today marks 5 months since Hazel's death, nearly 5 months since her birth day. Getting this invite in the mail has made the last few days very difficult. I'm weepy and on edge again. But we are living, pretty fully I must say, and I suppose part of that is allowing ourselves to feel grief when it comes up.

Feast of Lanterns.

2008-08-25T08:47:00.004-05:00

A few of us from church participated in an artist's booth at Feast of Lanterns. I freezer-paper stencils some reclaimed T-shirts and mini-totes. I also made a few Pillowcase Dress/tops. I (finally, after about 8 years of thinking about it) made my first Buckwheat Hull Pillows. (I need to add lavender or other dried goodies/essential oils and make varied sizes). Of course, I have no pictures because I completely forgot the camera!

It was a miserably, miserably hot day. Miserable. BUT, it was great fun to hang out with friends, watch my kiddos play and see the other things people had on display.

Jena and I were happy to find the booth by Candice Hartsough McDonald and Sally Harless. Alas, I had no $$ to spend, but was quite thrilled to discover local artists that I really, really like doing things similar to what I've been drooling over online.

Happy Day.

First Day of School!

2008-08-18T14:29:00.004-05:00

My two olders started kindergarten today. Last night I wondered where my tears and nostalgia for baby years were…I found them this morning. I got all choked up when I walked away from their classroom door with just Noah.

They used their backpacks from their Grandparents and wore the outfits picked out for them by Meemaw and Pappy.

This is Miriam when I asked her to take just one more picture:

This is Miriam when I reminded her that Sophia and Nanzi and Peyton would be in her class:

Noah and I went to the store and library. I think Noah enjoyed getting the little kid computer all to himself. He played on it the entire 1.5 hours we were at the library. Noah and I picked the two Kinders up at noon and they had much to tell me. They played and worked on letters and did puzzles made from their names. Alex said, “We have to go back tomorrow, though!”

Here they are with their teacher, Mrs Aldrich:

And they are off and running!

Healthy Apathy.

2008-08-07T21:26:00.002-05:00

I'm listening to one of my most favorite Over the Rhine songs Latter Days. Before Chris and I married, I struggled hard with anxiety and indecision. Not about him, not even about getting married; there was just so much going on at the time. When my struggle was the ugliest, Chris would sing songs to me. Etc, Whatever, a song we had in our wedding, was the main song. It contains the lines, "We're gonna be alright, you can close your eyes tonight, 'cause we're gonna be alright".

Chris has always had an incredible ability to Trust. Through those simple lines he was reminding me to trust. Just trust. We're gonna be alright.

After Hazel died, Chris whisper-sang those same lines to me over and over. In the hospital, while we were holding our precious dead child, while we were preparing to leave her forever, while we buried her ashes, while I cried in fear of losing faith.

And, even just 4 months later, I feel, not exactly alright, but a sense of survival. I've made it this far. I'm even happy sometimes.

These lines are written on my heart. I've always felt the truth of them, now I'm living them and I know they are True:

So come on now,
I can almost see
that place
on a distant shore.
And courage is a weapon we must use
to find some life you can’t refuse...
etcetera. Whatever. I guess all I really mean
is we’re gonna be alright.
Yeah, we’re gonna be alright.
You can close your eyes tonight,
‘cause we’re gonna be alright.
All that I can see is your eyes.
Close your eyes.
Close your eyes.
--Etc, Whatever

What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be.
Lord knows we’ve learned the hard way all about healthy apathy.
And I use these words pretty loosely.
There’s so much more to life than words.

There is a me you would not recognize, dear. Call it the shadow of myself.
And if the music starts before I get there dance without me. You dance so gracefully.
I really think I’ll be o.k. They’ve taken their toll these latter days.

Nothin’ like sleepin’ on a bed of nails. Nothin’ much here but our broken dreams.
Ah, but baby if all else fails, nothin’ is ever quite what it seems.
And I’m dyin’ inside to leave you with more than just cliches.
--Latter Days

Welcome, Welcome Zion Liya!

2008-08-06T20:58:00.004-05:00

My sister, Janelle, gave birth to her second little one, Zion, on Saturday evening. Janelle's already out running errands and visiting family. She's got the hang of this second child thing! Seriously, though, it sounds as if little Zion is a nice, calm baby, which makes big brother Moses (and probably daddy Adrian) quite happy! I know it makes Janelle happy.

Our good friend Kiyomi had her little girl, Audrey, yesterday, on my wedding anniversary.

Both of these labors went very quickly and smoothly. I can't handle hearing details of birth right now, but I'm thrilled that both Mamas got to have great birth experiences.

All of these lovely little girls make my heart ache. I'm happy, happy for the families, but I ache for my little girl, who should have been around to welcome her friends.

Hazel Irene, we miss you so much. These little girls would have grown up with you, played with you, fought with you, hugged you, painted nails with you. How is it possible that those things will never happen?

This strange grief...

2008-07-30T09:40:00.003-05:00

I've been reading lots of books about grief. Specifically about pregnancy loss, stillbirth or early infant death. One thing that keeps getting mentioned in each book is that most people don't have friends that stand by them. People get freaked out and uncomfortable with grief. This topic--the desertion of friends--has been mentioned in every single book.

I'm so grateful that my experience has been so very different. Sure, I have stories of insensitivity to tell. Sure, I have a couple of friends who I considered incredibly close that are obviously uncomfortable and don't know how to deal with me or my loss. But the vast majority of people know exactly what to do: listen. Hang out with me. If I'm sad, let me be sad. If I'm happy, let me be happy. Don't expect me to be "over it."

My advice to anyone who has grieving friends is this: Listen, and try not to look frightened when the topic comes up.

I'm grateful to each and every one of you who have supported me and my family and who continue to do so. My story (OUR story, because it is our shared story,now) is one of hope, healing and the amazing strength of Christian Community.

Miriam's comments...

2008-07-24T10:30:00.000-05:00

On her first sewing project.

"Mom, help me; this is rather a mess."

Remembering the First.

2008-07-23T09:27:00.007-05:00

5 years ago I was cuddling the most beautiful baby in the world! I had no idea what a earth shifting moment having a child would be; I don't think either Chris or I was prepared for the momentous changes in our lives, emotions, responsibilities. But how glad we were! How much we don't regret it! How priviledged we are to be Miriam's parents!

Miriam...
started her first sewing project yesterday.
self-corrects her grammar, but still says "Jophes" for "Joseph".
throws award winning temper tantrums.
gives amazing hugs and kisses.
loves her hair, but hates to brush it or put anything in it.
plans her birthday parties for months in advance.
is so perceptive is freaks me out sometimes.
loves her brothers so much, she defends them when I discipline them...
and then will turn around and pinch them.
can be incredibly self-absorbed (what 5 year olds aren't??), but still notices when others are sad or when others are having a bad day.
has changed my life.

Happy Birthday, my sweet little girl!

I remember

2008-07-21T10:30:00.001-05:00

I have been trying to remember that night in bits and pieces, but everytime I let myself think about it too much, I start to feel physically ill. Recently I was able to sit down and let myself remember things, not detailed, but more detailed that I had been willing to remember before. There is still so much--curling up in bed next to Noah and realizing the baby wasn't moving--that I can't think about in detail, because I feel light-headed, dizzy and rather faint (that seems so ridiculously melodramatic, but I promise you it is how I feel).

This is what came out when I just let myself writing, putting down whatever memory came next:

I remember that night. Sitting on the big orange rocker, tears rolling down my face—hoping HOPING *HOPING* that all was well, when I knew it was not. She was not moving. I put the heaviest book I could find (Harry Potter) on my stomach willing, begging her to kick it off, begging her to wake up from whatever sleep she was in. But she did not move.

I remember pushing, prodding my stomach. Picking up my large belly and letting it sort of drop back down, again willing her to awaken.

I remember getting in the car, already in shock, begging God that they would find the hearbeat and I’d be back home in minutes (but knowing it wouldn’t happen). I remember driving myself to the hospital (waking someone up to stay with the kids would be acknowledging what I already knew—that something was terribly, terribly wrong), my belly rubbing against the steering wheel. Again, no response from her.

I remember wishing I didn’t have to park in the garage.

I remember no heartbeat.

I remember them not showing me the ultrasound.

I remember them looking for such a long time—and I knew without them telling me.

I remember the Dr. hugging me, saying, “I’m so sorry.”

I remember crying then.

I remember thinking I was just crying because it's what she expected.

I remember wanting to SCREAM.

I remember consciously fighting that feeling down.

I remember wishing them all away from me so I could phone Chris, my parents, his parents, everyone in the world.

I remember my need to say it out loud over and over, “my baby’s dead, my baby’s dead, my baby’s dead”.

And then I remember never wanting to have to say it again.

I remember walking to my room, hoping no one would see me.

I remember waiting for Chris, for my doctor, for anyone who knew me.

I remember the nurse crying with us.

I remember wondering why I wasn't more upset.

I remember.

What it has taken away.

2008-07-18T10:30:00.000-05:00

My joy in meeting new people.

My love of watching little babies, especially little girls. (This is especially of strangers—those babies I know and love I enjoy, even take solace in spending time with—but how I dread meeting new mamas of little girls!)

My joy in remembering the births of my other children. All I can think about is how terrible and heartbreaking birth is now. I can’t even remember Miriam’s birth (my only non-cesarean birth)—my first! My entry into motherhood!—without thinking of my other little girl and her birth.

Memories are tainted with sadness (as above, other memories seem darker—especially of the 7 months before her death).

What has come.

2008-07-17T18:35:00.001-05:00

Awareness, ever increasing, of how much we are loved.

The chance to go away overnight, sans children.

The opportunity to participate in the happenings at church.

The joy of taking my children to splash in the local pool.

The knowledge that I can, in fact, survive the thing I would never let myself imagine.

3 Months and 1 Day Ago

2008-07-16T10:51:00.003-05:00

On April 15th, my baby's heart stopped beating.
On April 18th, I delivered her.

Those days in between are a blurr.
These days since have been terrible, lovely, heartbreaking, heartening, lonely and full.

A friend last night reminded me that what is simply is. Thinking about what should be or what I should be doing will really serve no purpose.

But I still miss her.

Omer, our community's dear friend and member, died last week. There is much rejoicing that his life was 90 years full and that his death was not dragged out for longer than a few rough months. We will miss him.

His memorial service was yesterday. Grief is selfish in its very nature and my grief is no exception. While remembering this loved man, I couldn't help but remember our wished-for child. For a second I wished that she would have lived 90 years, that she would have touched so many lives, that she would have had family and friends gather to remember her with such love. And then...She didn't live 90 years, only 7 short months in my womb, but, BUT, she was loved. She did have friends and family gather to remember her and grieve her loss. She did touch people; her loss touched people. Our grief and how we choose to bear it continues to makes its mark.

Grief is selfish, but I am not alone in my grief.
I am not alone.
We are not alone.

The Bees Knees.

2008-07-15T13:20:00.005-05:00

This last week has been rough. This weekend, especially. I was exhausted, incredibly emotional...crying at the drop of a hat, getting completely and easily overwhelmed. I know some days, some stretches of days, maybe even some weeks will be like this, but I'm not prepared for it. I seem to hit the rough patches just as I feel I'm getting a handle on things again.

Writing has been good for me. Even though I feel like crawling under a rock and hiding for a while, I think the discipline of writing, even if it's unrelated to Hazel, is good, healing and even rejuvenating.

A month or so ago, I had a conversation with some women online who are doing some interesting homesteading experiments. I shared a bit about what we (Englewood) are doing in the city of Indianapolis. One of the things I find most fascinating is the beekeeping. Our friends Mary and Debbie took a beekeeping course and purchased a hive. The bees are kept on the roof of our church building.

The bees have access to all sorts of plants. We have fruit trees(apples, pears, peaches, cherries) planted throughout the neighborhood. We also have a community garden that has a variety of veggies and flowers. And, of course, all the green grass is accompanied by clover...so the bees seem quite content here.

Mary uses the beeswax to make lip balm and hand cream. Debbie and Mary also extract honey from the hives for our use, as well.

Even though we're not a rural community, we are trying to do a little urban homesteading as we're able. Pretty neat, huh?

Back Again

2008-07-10T07:03:00.004-05:00

Chris has been out of town for a few days and I've really enjoyed some time away from my addiction--the laptop. I'm figuring out how to balance my use of the little device...

I spend way too much of my time worrying about what others think. What do they think of me? What are they thinking when they make *that* choice? Why hasn’t she said anything about Hazel; I know she knows? Do they think my kids are nice? Do they think my kids are turning out okay? Do they think I’m a good parent?

I am also the sort of person who thinks big—I want to make these clothes, these curtains, this jam, this paper, etc—but often doesn’t follow through with those big thoughts. The jam got made because someone else finally jumpstarted the project. The clothes got finished because I desperately wanted my kids to wear them to my brother’s wedding (oh, that desperation is not so healthy a catalyst).

The combination of these two traits is going to undo me. My children are so very important to me and I think big thoughts about them, too: what things we’ll do, what we’ll read, how people will think of us (positively, of course!), etc. All of this results in way too much though and very little action. I can not parent my kids with tension and desperation and self-centeredness and ugliness. I’ve got to get this (meaning me) under control.

I’m just not sure how to do that.

Get up off the couch. No more internet during the day. (?? ack!) Chris took the laptop with him while he was out of town and we got so much accomplished.

Ease up a bit…quit telling them what to do all the time. (Does it really matter if people think they are mismatched and dirty?)

Let them talk. Quit getting so caught up in my own useless thoughts that I miss what they want to talk about.

I hope those are useful things. Honestly, if any of you who read this have any kind of useful ideas, please share them. I don’t care if you have kids, how old they are or how well you think they’re turning out—I need some help!

Sir (Skinny) Cat.

2008-07-03T15:35:00.004-05:00

We've been adopted by an adorable little tabby cat. She (ummmm...we actually don't know which gender, yet) is a lovely, loving, wonderful kitty who has taken to our children quite well. One the day she showed up, Noah was carrying her around upside down and she didn't even complain--amazing!

Every time I ask Alex what he wants to do for the day he says, "Play with the kitty!"
Miriam is in love; Noah is in love; Alex is in love; Chris has always wanted a cat.

I think this one is here to stay. The only decent picture I could get of this active kitten was when it was asleep. Isn't she adorable?

Soft(?) Pretzels

2008-07-02T19:00:00.003-05:00

I made soft pretzels with my children. Sort of. I learned a couple of things (always learning, us parents).

1-Always Always read the entire way through a recipe, even if you think you've been baking long enough to wing it a bit.

2-Don't assume that because your airbake sheet takes forever to bake cookies that it will do the same for your pretzels.

3-Don't assume that natural light begats good pictures.

The results--edible, but not exactly soft, pretzels, grainy pictures, happy kids.

July. July?!?!?

2008-07-01T22:30:00.001-05:00

I can't believe it's July. My two olders start kindergarten in just a little over 6 weeks. Ack! Their grandparents asked if they could visit for a week, too; so we'll have two huge things coming up. They've never been away from me for more than 1 night, except for when Hazel was born and I was in the hospital--and then they came to see me (and Hazel, once she was born) every day.

I also can't believe it's July, because I still feel stuck back in April. My brother getting married in June and passing Hazel's due date has helped me mark time a bit. Sometimes, though, I'm surprised by the realization of how much time has passed--11 weeks. Almost 3 months.

I can't go down this road too far or I won't be able to find my way back. Mostly, I feel peaceful about it now, but I cling to my sadness sometimes, too. It's one of the only things that binds me to Hazel.

Showers.

2008-06-30T22:18:00.006-05:00

I went to a baby shower for a young girl at our church tonight. Babies having babies? Not what I hope for my littles, but not the end of the world, either. She's young, but she's got a lot of help. Sure, it might be better not to be pregnant at 15. Sure, it would be easier for her to have a child 5, even 10 years from now... But she's having one now. So. Jealous...no. It's her baby. And it's a boy.

But I wasn't counting on how all those baby boy clothes would make me feel. They were so little, so witty, so full of hope and happiness and joy. And I feel so low on those things right now.

Moments of hope, moments of happiness...yes. I was telling someone this weekend that every good thing I've experienced lately has been tempered by Hazel's loss. This weekend I went by an apple orchard and I got excited about picking apples this fall...and then I felt sad thinking about how this would have been Hazel's first orchard trip; how I would have carried her in the sling and then staged some kind of cute, hokey picture of her in the wagon with apples.

All my bright moments are darker than they would have been.

Will it be like this always? Will they be as bright? Or has this loss, this death changed the levels for me? I remember reading the Anne of Green Gables books. Anne's first child dies soon after birth. Anne's eyes never shine as brightly again, even after her little, healthy Jem is born. Is this how it works? I'm truly not trying to sound melodramatic (I'm aware that I do), I'm honestly wondering. Am I forever dimmed?

Oh, it is not the same. It is just not the same

2008-06-27T13:49:00.005-05:00

Losing Hazel was terrible; the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. She was active, already stubborn, she kicked all the time, sometimes so hard that it surprised me. But we didn’t know her; even the most essential things about her. We had chosen not to find out if she was a boy or a girl. When she died, I didn’t even know she was a she. Oh, how I regretted that choice we made 7 months earlier. I wished, during those hours I tried to deliver my sweet, dead baby, that I knew what gender she was, what her name was. Walter? Hazel? Who was dead inside of me?

I know you are not supposed to compare grief. All grief is hard, certainly. But the grief for a run-over dog does not touch mine. On the other side, there is no way my grief is like that of a mother who has lost her 5 year old. But the pain I feel—the temptation to hopelessness—gives me a glimpse into that grief. How much more pain could one handle? I have an almost 5 year old daughter. If I try to imagine what it would be like to lose her, I feel sick. I cannot imagine it.

What is hard right now? Realizing that bad things really do happen. If this one bad thing could happen to me, to us, to our community, what’s to stop it from happening again? How do I hold on to hope in spite of that fear?

My God is not a cheap God; not an easy God, not a “safe” God. I know he suffers with me. I believe he is both mother and father and I believe he knows grief--knows my grief. Why, then, does he allow things like this to happen? I have no idea. None. Not one.

Just for the record, I do not believe he did this to me, to us. Allowance is not the same as cause. And also, I believe that God can bring good out of bad. Does that mean he will fix it? Take away my hurt? Bring Hazel back? Of course not. I will always, always miss my sweet little girl. Will I know what good he brings from this bad? Perhaps not. Perhaps not.

What's in a name?

2008-06-26T22:35:00.004-05:00

Four years ago, before we discovered that the baby I was carrying was a boy, Chris and I dreamed of names for our child. We've never fought over names; never have had trouble picking them out. If a boy, this child would be Noah, named for Chris's beloved, gentle, pacifist grandfather. If a girl, this child would be Hazel Irene, named simply because we loved the first name and because the second name means "peace." I was in love with the name we gave Miriam, as well. She is named for my grandmother and for Anne of Green Gables. I remember being out in public, ridiculously in love with my baby and saying her name to her. I kept thinking, “People will hear me call her Miriam Blythe and say, ‘What a lovely name! What a perfect name!’”--because I thought it was lovely and perfect.

After we found out that our baby was a boy, I let go of the name Hazel for a time...but I dreamed of using it. Our friend, Jena, really felt as if there was a Hazel in our future. I wanted that to be true!! When we discovered this pregnancy, I rekindled my dream of the name; but I wanted a little girl so very badly that I could hardly let myself consider that I might get one. Of course it was more than just because of her name: I wanted Miriam to have a little sister.

Tonight Methodist Hospital had a memorial service for the babies who had died during the past year. It was simple and nice. As Chris said, afterwards, “I’m not really into that religious stuff.” But we have so few things we get to do for Hazel. And, honestly, I just need to be able to use her name sometimes.

I sat in my seat and just whispered her name, “Hazel, Hazel, Hazel.” We lit candles at the end of the service and they said we could speak aloud the name of our child. When it was my turn, and no one else had spoken aloud, I just could not do it. I was too embarrassed, too afraid that I would cry. As soon as the moment passed I regretted it. I keep saying how much I’m mourning even the very name we gave her and here I had a rare chance to speak the name aloud and I passed it up! When we stood to go forward and collect our little Hazel’s shell (a memento from the hospital), I said, aloud, regardless of the possible embarrassment, “We lit our candles in the memory of Hazel. I love her name and just needed to say it out loud.”

Company in mourning

2008-06-25T14:27:00.002-05:00

I have recently discovered the treasure trove that is Facebook and am so very excited to get back in touch with people from all sorts of stages of my life. From elementary school, high school and college, from my childhood church, from our time at Vineyard Central in Cinci, from Common Ground, from our families (so many cousins online!!) and, of course, from our time here at Englewood (which is where we shall remain, Lord willing!)

Finding these friends again, many of whom had heard about Hazel through the grapevine, has been an amazing comfort. As I've said before, Chris and I can tell that others are carrying this burden of grief with us...and that feeling has been confirmed over and over by the truth spoken to us--on facebook! Oh, the irony that these impersonal internets can bring us closer together.

I've been reading a couple of other blogs by mothers who are going through difficult periods in their parenting journey. One is by Angie Smith, whose husband is in the band Selah (of whom I had never heard, honestly, but of whom, it turns out, my mother is a big fan). Their 4th child, a daughter, died a couple of hours after birth. It was an expected death, but one they had hoped would not occur. The other is by another Amity Mama whose greatly anticipated twins arrived 15 weeks early and are struggling through their first weeks of life. These precious, tiny boys are like little newborn mice, hairless and with their eyes still shut--oh, they are precious!

Visit

2008-06-23T22:31:00.008-05:00

My brother and his family have been visiting for the past few days. It's been really relaxing and wonderful to have them here. Their enthusiasm for things I've learned to take for granted is eye opening for me.

Yesterday we made tie-dye shirts for the kiddos (I'm a firm believer in tie-dye for kids ONLY) and last night I freezer-paper-stenciled the names on. My sister-in-law, Aimee, cut out the stencils for her kids and I did mine.

Aimee's children are younger than mine and not quite up to working with the dye themselves, but Alex, Miriam and Noah each dyed their own shirt. I tied. They dyed.

Today we went to the Children's Museum. Indianapolis has one of the best in the nation. It's really a place at which you could spent days with your kids and still not see/experience it all. Which makes having a membership a very good thing. We go even when we can only stay for an hour or so. It's 10 minutes away (or less) and not too far off the highway.

All the children played hard, got tired out and now are sleeping well. Miriam fell out of bed and was sleeping mostly under it when we checked on her a few minutes ago. That says much for the deepness of her sleep.

Jared and Aimee leave tomorrow. I hate to see them go; this has been very good for all of us.

I can almost see her.

2008-06-19T09:46:00.001-05:00

I can almost see her, my sweet Hazel.
She's 2, maybe 3, with brown, ringleted hair.
She's chubby still, toddling after her siblings.

"Hazel!" I call, "Come back!"

But she keeps going, giggling and determined.

I'm mourning all of her, even her name. That name I dreamed of using for 4 years. I wanted this little girl, dared to dream of her, to hope for her. I do not understand this. I can not.

Today is her due date.

Strawberries, fresh from the field!

2008-06-18T11:09:00.004-05:00

On the way out of Lancaster, we stopped at a plain Mennonite farm to get strawberries. The mother was still out picking the berries for sale that day and a little girl ran out to her to get our 4 quarts. We brought home strawberries that were in the garden MINUTES before we purchased them. You just can't find that in the city (at least not for a reasonable price!)

While we were waiting for the berries, the kids got to pet a little pony attached to a cart. The girl that was helping us offered the kids a ride and my two olders got right on the carraige and had a blast! Noah enjoyed watching them, but there was not way his little butt was getting on that carraige. I wish I had gotten a picture, but I didn't want to miss the moments fumbling around for the camera.

I will have more pictures from Aunt Janelle's pool tomorrow.

My baby brother is married!

2008-06-16T10:30:00.001-05:00

It was a lovely evening on Friday, June 13th--Perfect for an outdoor wedding. Jon, my youngest sibling and his now-wife Dani picked the perfect day possible, as the next day brought crazy thunderstorms all evening.

This has been a very bittersweet week for us, as we think about what should have been. We should have been holding our sweet baby, but instead we only have pictures and memories and grief.

However, we were able to truly enjoy the wedding all the celebrations surrounding it.

Here is Jon, with Miriam:

My father and mother. I thought my mom looked absolutely lovely:

Dani and her father:

I now pronounce you husband and wife:

Jon and Dani hadn't kissed on the lips since January 1st. They kissed a lot during the wedding celebration!

Some other pictures from the wedding.
My nephew Gavin. Isn't he sweet? He's a litte lover and a talker. I really enjoy being around him:

I made the clothing my children wore. Here's Miriam and her cousin Lyra:

My boys. I made Alex and Noah's shirts.

Jon and Dani with the twins they babysit. These dear, sweet babies are close to my heart. They were born on Christmas day and their mother died on New Year's. They are little girls missing their mother and I'm a mother missing my little girl:

The back of Dani's dress:

Just my kiddos. I loved their outfits. They were all made from Heather Ross fabrics. I love this line. LOVE it:

This is one of my other nephews, Moses. His mama is a stylist and she cut his hair last week. Then Gavin asked her to give him a mohawk, too "pweese". Moses is a spitfire. I don't have to be around him long before I'm laughing away.

What would have been--and what is.

2008-06-11T09:44:00.000-05:00

We leave today to travel to Pennsylvania. This trip would not have occurred if Hazel had lived. I will try to find much joy in witnessing my brother’s wedding and not focus on my own loss.

Noah and his cousin Elmo (really Moe-Moe, or rather, Moses) very much enjoy each other’s company. When Moses realized his mother, my sister, had made up our beds, he went outside to the garage to “wait for Noah.” Noah, on the other hand, having been told we were leaving “tomorrow”, got up from his nap yesterday saying, “It’s morning time!!” with much joy and anticipation.

We will have a wonderful weekend, just because of all the sweet children.

Oh!! And the best news—My brother and his wife are coming out for a long weekend the following week. I’m so very much looking forward to that. My sister-in-law, Aimee, is someone I know I will be able to talk with candidly. She lost her father at a young age, and although our grief is different, she understands grief.

Days of Remembrance

2008-06-10T20:25:00.001-05:00

If Hazel had lived and had made it to term, she would be arriving via c/s either tomorrow or Friday. I was walking outside, on this wonderful, cool late spring evening, and it struck me how different this night should have been. I should have been great (and I mean great) with child, Hazel should have been kicking around inside with little room left. I should have been filled with joy and anticipation—wondering what gender the baby would be and what he or she would look like.

Instead, I am faced with this terrible week, knowing that some people think I shouldn’t be so sad anymore (it’s only been 8 weeks!!), that my mother is dealing with so much right now that she can’t help me deal with this (and I can’t help her), that I will never, ever get to hold Hazel again in this life. Even if another baby comes our way, she will not be Hazel.

Early on, I was horrified by the gap Hazel’s death would bring. Even if we had another child eventually, there would be this 5 year gap. I could just imagine having to explain, “we didn’t wait 5 years after Noah, we had a daughter, Hazel, who died.” Just thinking of that gap, that empty space, made me ill.

I also felt an intense desire to “get another baby fast.” I had fantasies about adopting quickly. My sister called me and said, “I have great news!” and I thought, “You have my baby!”

I know now that these intense desires and strange fantasies are normal. Another weird occurrence that happened early on was my aching arms. I couldn’t believe how much they hurt, literally. I came upon this quote in the book Empty Cradle, Broken Heart last night and it explains my feelings exactly:

“The biggest thing I remember was empty arms. My arms just ached. I’ve read about this and it’s hard to believe, but to me there was actually a physical emptiness. I could almost feel my arms cradling, but there wasn’t anything there.”

I don’t want to forget that feeling—how my whole body ached for Hazel, how even my arms missed her, my sweet still baby.

"If I'm drowning.."

2008-06-09T17:35:00.002-05:00

within your open sea, save me, save me" --Over the Rhine

I don't know how to put into words what I'm feeling.

People have said how well I'm handling Hazel's death. But I don't feel as if I am. I feel like I'm falling apart. There are times, every few days, when I think, "If I let myself fall into how I'm really feeling right now, I don't know if I'll be able to claw myself back out."

I think there are some people who are expecting me to be over Hazel's death already. After all, she was never born alive; I never nursed her; I never bathed or dressed her.

OH, God! But she was my baby, my precious little girl who I dreamed about for YEARS. How can I just get "over" her? I believe she's in heaven. I believe I'll see her again some day. I believe she's perfect. But it's not enough. She's missing from our family. There will always be a missing part of our family. I will always ache for her. Always. There are people who think I'm being melodramatic, but I truly don't believe I am in this case. I've read enough of what people go through to know what to expect. I've talked to enough mothers who have lost their babies, pre-birth, to know how hard this will be.

The date of my expected c/s is coming up, as well as her due date. I'm as afraid of no-one remembering as I am of people remembering--it's just so very hard. I'm so tense that my back and neck hurt constantly. I don't know how to "fix" those physical symptoms. I thought I was getting sick, until I realized how tensely I'm holding my body all the time. But how do you relieve tension? Seriously? I've never been this tense before.

How can people not realize how hard this is??? Just because she never breathed? Because she was born 2 months early? Because she never lived outside my womb?

Oh, I ache. I ache for her.

Reading.

2008-06-05T10:30:00.000-05:00

I’ve spent such a large portion of the last 3 days crying, weeping, screaming into pillows or while driving in the car. My voice is hoarse.

I read a great book, a memoir of a mother’s grief after the death of her 6 week old son, her first born. Reading the book, Losing Malcolm, became a trigger for a cathartic night of weeping, looking through Hazel’s things and giving in to how terrible I really feel. The author, Carol Henderson, writes about how she felt this intense need to write to everyone who had written her during her son’s short life. She spent weeks doing so, for one hour a day.

I think I’m going to do some little projects of my own like that.

Shortly before Hazel died, I purchased a sweet BigFooted bunny pattern from Wee Wonderfuls. This was going to be my baby’s birth gift. Each of my children have a Waldorf doll, and I’ve made the ones for Alex and Noah. My plan was to make one for the new baby, but since we didn’t know gender (and I like to match up child’s gender to his or her doll), I wanted to wait until after the baby was born to begin making it. (And OH!! How I longed to the baby to be a girl—I wanted to make such beautiful long, pig tailed hair for the perfect baby doll). I decided to make the sweet Big Footed Bunny for the baby in the meantime.

I’m going to make that bunny. For me. I’m going to spend lots of time carefully picking out fabrics, sewing, and stuffing this sweet bunny.

And then?

I don’t know.

The bunny will not take the place of my baby. I will still always want Hazel.

I’ve read, over and over, that for some reason 6-9 months after your child’s death tends to be the time of the most overwhelming grief. (And then the grief never goes away, it’s your constant companion, forever, just that it isn’t always overwhelming). I can’t even imagine what that might be like, that intense, overwhelming grief. I barely function now.

Vallerina Miriam

2008-06-04T07:01:00.004-05:00

Miriam had her first "vallet" recietal this Saturday. It was, of course, pathetically hokey. But it was also (of course), absolutely darling.

Miriam, when she is in her own element, is confident, bossy, and in control. She a little off kilter at her dance class; it's new and she doesn't know the other children. It's interesting to watch her in this setting. She's calm, a bit quieter, and a bit day dream-y.

She loved the class, but she wants to take swimming lessons next. She'd like some of her friends to take the dance class with her next time. Imagine that--back in her element!

Cycling

2008-06-03T20:45:00.000-05:00

I'm cycling again. And not the good, get your heart pumping kind. The run to the bathroom and change your outfit kind.

My baby's due date has not even passed and my body is ready to make a new baby. How fair is that? Especially since I really can't have another baby. It seems to me, that since having more children in inadvisable, my body should just stop acting like it can make a baby and give up the ghost.

sigh.

Mixed Up.

2008-06-02T20:45:00.003-05:00

I feel so mixed up lately. So jumbled and out of sorts.
I was terribly impatient with my children today.
I was glad to get a letter from a friend, with a sweet little gift attached.
I was sad to talk with my mom because she sounds sad (although she tries to hide it).

I've been
creator
teacher
discipler (sounds better than discipliner or punisher or whatever)
shopper
advisor
lifeguard
reader

And I feel so very unqualified for any of these tasks.

I can be happy. I can even really, really enjoy myself. But I wonder if I'll ever feel overjoyed again. Perhaps not. Perhaps this limit on happiness, the feeling, is one of my new normals.

Toad

2008-05-30T13:54:00.001-05:00

Miriam, singing along with Toad the Wet Sprocket's Fear:

"I will not take these things for Grandma."

Making, Creating, Grieving

2008-05-29T18:38:00.002-05:00

I've been sewing a bit lately. I still feel weirdly surrounded by a fog of slowness. I move slowly, think slowly, process slowly, etc. However, as far as crafting goes, I've discovered that it's a good thing. You want that dress to actually fit? Go slow and follow the directions! Epiphany!

I've finished up a couple of languishing projects this week. I also made my friend Kendra's daughter a dress, as modeled below:

I made matching bloomers as well, but for some reason she didn't want to slow down to actually put them on.

Miriam got a new dress and all three kids received new bags. Hopefully I'll have pics of those to share soon, too.

Sad.

2008-05-28T19:32:00.001-05:00

We're back here again. Sadness. I don't know if yesterday was too much happiness for me to handle right now or what, but I feel sad, sad, sad today.

I was all snappish with the kids last night and annoyed by everyone around me. Was I just tired? Emotionally drained? Who knows.

I miss Hazel so much. There were two little girl babies at church tonight and they were so sweet, lovely and snuggable. I just longed and longed for the possibility of Hazel.

My arms ache tonight.

Amelia Marie

2008-05-27T12:34:00.003-05:00

My very, very good friend Jena just gave birth to her second daughter today. I went and saw this precious 9 lb, 15 oz baby and I was HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

Welcome to the world, sweet Amelia Marie! I can't wait to get to know you better!

I can't breathe

2008-05-23T10:30:00.000-05:00

Hazel's death seems so hard right now. I want my baby. I want Hazel.

There is not one place I can go without being reminded of my little one.

There is not one person I can talk to without thinking of my little one.

There is no book to read.

There is no show to watch.

There is no song to hear.

Everything makes me think of Hazel.

It's all "before Hazel died" and "after Hazel died".

I feel as if I'm split in half.

This is going to be so very much harder than I try to convince myself it is.

Every day for the rest of my life I will the mother of a dead child.

I will miss Hazel every single day forever.

Every.

Day.

Jealous

2008-05-22T10:30:00.001-05:00

Oh, God! I am jealous. Not of my friends still pregnant. Not of my sister. Not of my friends with new little babies. I am jealous of a 4 year old. A little girl my daughter's age. A little girl in her class. Why?

Because she has a new, precious, beautiful little sister. I'm jealous for my daughter. My daughter who has not even thought of being jealous herself.

I so wanted my little girl to be a big sister. I wanted her to have another girl to grow up with.

But you know what? I just had an epiphany. I love my sister and am very, very close to her. But we both have friends who live closer who share more of our daily lives. My daughter will have good sister-like friends. I know she will.

I feel better now.

(But I'll still cry tonight when I go to bed)

Darkness

2008-05-21T10:30:00.001-05:00

There is such darkness in the world! This has always been true, but it seems more dark to me now; everything is shaded a bit darker. Before Hazel died, I’d never experienced a death that rocked my foundations. When someone I knew experienced something terrible, I would say, “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling, but I am so sorry you’re feeling it.” I now have some basis for understanding the horror of inexplicable loss.

The parents and families in Myanmar and China are close to my thoughts right now. I don’t know the kind of terror they experienced, but I can imagine their overwhelming grief. It makes me feel sick, quite literally, if I think about it for too long—Imagine what it’s like for them! They don’t have the luxury of being able to turn the page and read a different article or to click the mouse to read a different blog. This terrible loss, this unbelievable catastrophe, is their new reality.

I suppose, when your heart is broken, it’s easy for the pain of others to become real. Their pain just slips inside the little cracks and breaks and joins with your own. As hard as it is to go through this grief, as much as I wish I still had Hazel inside of me, kicking and hiccupping, I hope that my heart never heals completely. I hope that I never forget what it’s like to experience this loss.

Family Visit

2008-05-20T15:17:00.002-05:00

I buried my daughter’s ashes this weekend. While some of my family was here to love us and spoil us and mourn with us, we had a little ceremony and buried our baby.

We sang He’s got the Whole World in his Hands--Oh, my “tiny little baby”--, buried her ashes next to the lilac our friend Patty brought to us in the hospital, and we prayed.

My family’s time with us was amazing and hard. They came to “love on us” and so they did—they painted, drilled, mowed, shoveled, etc. They took time not only to drive 10 hours for only a bit more than 24 hours here, but they cried with us, looked at Hazel’s pictures and other mementos, worked hard and just hung out, talking and even laughing.

It was great to see my kids playing with their kids. It was healing for me to spend time with my family. I didn’t have to act any certain way—they knew I was sad, so I could just be sad.

It’s hard to talk about the weekend, really. It was better than I thought it would be, and harder, as well. We discussed my dad and what he’s going through right now—and my mom and all she’s dealing with as result of Dad’s bad decisions. I felt constantly exhausted, not just because of all the work, but also because of the hyper-emotionality of the weekend. I cried when they left, but I was glad to go to church and be surrounded by friends there.

The weekend

2008-05-19T13:36:00.001-05:00

The weekend went well. My sister didn’t stay as long as she planned; the visit was harder on her than she expected. She’s due in August but is not yet as far along as I was when Hazel died. I guess I’m a constant reminder of a mother’s worse nightmare. I’m so sorry that I make people worried just by being present.

I want to write about the weekend, but I just don’t have the energy. I will share stories and pictures tomorrow.

I will say that we felt surrounded by love and prayer as we enjoyed my family’s visit and as we said our final official goodbye to our sweet Hazel. (I know I will be saying goodbye to her for years.)

One Month

2008-05-18T22:30:00.001-05:00

It’s been one month since our little one died.
One month of mourning.
One month of getting up out of bed and doing what needs to be done.
One month of crying every day.
One month of recovering from surgery.
One month of letting go.

But, we are moving forward. I’m getting accustomed to my constant companion, grief.

Two years ago, I met a lady who told me the story of their son, Christopher, who was born still. She told me how her community helped to carry her grief. As she told me the story, I remember thinking that I was amazed she could tell it. I was crying, thinking of what I would have felt in her place. I received a letter from her last week and she told me that even after ten years, there are still times she is overwhelmed by grief.

And I was relieved. This pain is my reminder that Hazel was real, that she was here, that she was truly my daughter. I was relieved to know that I will still carry Hazel’s pain ten years from now, but that I will also be able to function normally. I will not be completely devastated by her death. I will be changed, but not ruined.

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

2008-05-16T10:30:00.000-05:00

Our neighbors are either catch and release raccooners...or there's a raccoon graveyard across the street.

That's one furry little creature they brought over to show our children.

Here are our kiddos and their friend Sophia staring in awe at the raccoon.

And finally, Miriam and Noah enraptured by the appearance of the caged coon. They look as if they are willing to just sit and wait for something exciting to happen.

Don't you wish you lived in our neighborhood?

And what kind of urban neighborhood is this?

How much things have changed

2008-05-15T10:30:00.000-05:00

Miriam and Alex playing make believe:

“And I’ll be the one whose mother just had a baby, but it died just a little bit after it was born.”

Hard and Harder

2008-05-14T10:25:00.002-05:00

This whole week has been incredibly hard. I'm sitting here with a knot in my stomach, feeling more and more sick as time goes on.

My sister is coming tonight to stay for nearly a week. I'm so very much looking forward to having her and her son stay with us. Later this week, her husband and 2 of my brothers and their families are coming, as well. I'm overjoyed at the prospect of their arrival...

and I'm terrified.

Because I will show them Hazel's pictures for the first time.

Because I will cry when I see them.

Because I'm afraid I will be jealous of my sister's big, pregnant belly.

Because I know the only reason they are coming is because Hazel died and they want to mourn with us and comfort us.

I want to be able to:

Be happy.

Laugh some good, big belly laughs.

Enjoy their time with us.

I went to Target with Noah yesterday and could barely breath while walking past the infant/toddler clothes. I felt, for a moment, like I was going to hyperventilate and I basically talked myself down from a panic attack. I thought, "I am going to freak out and they are going to have to call my husband to come and get me!" and "I can NOT freak out, I have my son with me!" It worked, I guess, but I did cry my way through the rest of the store, trying not to let Noah think I had completely lost it.

If you are the praying sort and you are reading this, please pray that I can handle this without falling deeper into whatever hole it is I'm stuck in. I have moments everyday when I feel as if I'm going to lose control--moments when I still can't believe this is happening--has happened.

My Father...

2008-05-13T21:05:00.001-05:00

If you are the praying sort, please pray.

Pray that Dad can make better decisions. Pray that Mom can get support she needs.

Today

2008-05-12T13:57:00.000-05:00

Today is a hard, hard day. Yesterday was hard, but I expected it to be—it was mother’s day after all. Somehow, today is harder.

I found out a 15 year old at church is pregnant, due in July.

I found out a lovely friend (with whom I had lost touch) is due with her first baby, a little girl, on June 19th, my due date.

My church did the annual “baby dedication”, which they call a “Rock-In” yesterday. Hazel was the youngest baby, who would traditionally be placed in the cradle. Instead, they placed flowers in her memory.

Today, I received those flowers and the tiny pink New Testament inscribed, “In Memory of Hazel Irene Smith.”

These are lovely, kind, life-giving gestures, but how I wish we weren’t doing them! How I wish that my darling little girl was still kicking and hiccupping inside of me! How I wish that I could say, “Oh! We’re due on the same day! How cool!” How I wish I could say, “I will pass down anything you need for your little one.” How I wish that I could rock-in my Hazel NEXT year, as she should have been.

I miss my baby.

Miriam's Song

2008-05-10T11:35:00.000-05:00

These were Miriam's words verbatim on the way to the video store:

"I miss Hazel more that I love movies. I miss Hazel more than I hate spankings. I miss Hazel...I miss Hazel...all the way to the moon and back."

I found this heartbreakingly cute...

A Minor Bird

2008-05-09T09:09:00.004-05:00

Alex has taken to climbing the pine tree in front of our house. He climbs unbelievably high (“Hey Mom! I can see into Dad’s library!”) and washes his hands after each climb (this is the boy who can not stand to be dirty, after all!)

Tuesday he climbed the tree and a little robin started to chirp at him insistently. Alex said, “Mom, I can see a bird in the tree and it’s not flying away! I see the nest!” I told him to get down, that the bird was warning him that he was too close. Then the little bird hopped out to where I could see her and just looked at me as if to say, “Can you please get your baby out of my tree?”

I got a picture of her, dear bird. Thinking about her throughout the day reminded me of the Robert Frost poem, Minor Bird:

I have wished a bird would fly away,
And not sing by my house all day;

Have clapped my hands at him from the door
When it seemed as if I could bear no more.

The fault must partly have been in me.
The bird was not to blame for his key.

And of course there must be something wrong
In wanting to silence any song.

Of course, as I write this, I’m being accosted by the loud, ridiculous music of my neighbor and I take issue with that last line, despite how lovely the sentiment.

Slightly Psychotic

2008-05-08T10:43:00.000-05:00

I feel normal some days and just slightly shy of psychotic other days. I hear news of other people’s babies and I’m genuinely happy for them, but I can’t help but feel sad for my family. Sometimes I just sit and think, “I want my baby.” I talk to Hazel a lot in my head. I tell her how much we love her and how much we looked forward to parenting her. And I assure her that we would have been good parents to her (flawed, of course). I know she’s probably not actually hearing me when I speak to her, but it makes me feel better somehow.

I don’t cry too often in front of the other children anymore, because it seemed to be really bothering them—and they would get really distraught, too. I worry that when they come back in the room and I’ve still got tears running down my face that they will be bothered by that, too. At the same time, death is a part of life and I don’t want to completely hide from them how hard this is.

Here’s a picture of the table from the memorial service. On the table are some pictures of Hazel, her 3D footprints and handprint, a lock of her hair, the little bracelet she wore, a haiku written to me from one of my Mother’s students, and the lovely memory box purchased for me by friends from Amitymama (see link to the left). The service was truly lovely. We had much support both by people who attended (family came from Ohio, northern Indiana and Iowa) and people who couldn’t be there who were praying for us.

Neighborhood

2008-05-07T07:26:00.001-05:00

Losing Hazel is so much a part of who I am and what my life is about right now, that it takes a lot to get me out of my fog. In some ways I’m super-attuned to others’ sadness, but I miss other things around me.

However, the lady next door coming out on her porch and shouting “Gotcha Bitch!” as well as other choice words was enough to shake me out of my own haze for a bit. This neighbor and the new owners of the house across the street have been having a bit of a feud. The next-doors have talked with me about the other people and I’ve been at a friend’s house when the other people have talked with her about the next-doors. I think they have both probably acted inappropriately, and I really hate being caught in the middle.

The others people are intent on “cleaning up the neighborhood” which includes, apparently, getting rid of loose dogs by shooting them with BB guns and trapping neighborhood cats and relocating them to the parking lot of a shopping mall (!!).

The next-doors are intent on living however they want whenever they want, which includes, apparently, listening to music at decibel levels heretofore unexplored, smoking pot, cutting firewood with a (very loud) tile cutter and having huge bonfires in their backyard.

Obviously, living in the city in houses thisclose to each other requires compromise. I’m aware they we are very lucky not to have dealt with anything like this before. But that means I’m clueless now.

When the next-doors came over to explain what’s going on (and, nicely, to apologize for having cussed someone out in front of my children), I encouraged them not to retaliate, and expressed my view that doing so will only make things worse, not better. They agreed that this was probably true.

However, since the other people have called animal control, the health department, the landlord and have threatened to call CPS on the next doors, I’m not sure how long the one sided cease-fire will last.

On a more positive note, we have had some families with young children move onto the street. So far, the kids are enjoying playing together and I’m enjoying watching them. This brings our block’s 0-5 year old children count to 16, I think.

A slideshow

2008-05-05T10:02:00.000-05:00

I promise that there will be mourning-free content someday. But not today.

Here is a slideshow I made to share with some friends online. If the pictures repeat back to back, it's just taking time to load.

Sweet Noah

2008-05-04T13:10:00.001-05:00

On Friday evening, Chris and I were preparing some things for Hazel's memorial service. We were looking at Hazel's lock of hair, footprints, handprints and bracelet. Noah and Miriam wanted to look at them, too.

I noticed Noah's expression start to change from one of interest to one of sadness and all the sudden he burst into tears, crying, "Hazel" over and over again. Chris and I were stunned, but we held and comforted him while he cried out his grief.

And we cried, too.

Hallelujah

2008-05-04T00:01:00.002-05:00

We gathered today for Hazel's memorial service. It was heartbreaking, but so loving. Our wonderful friends and family members joined us in our grief and mourning, as they have been doing.

I wanted my baby so badly. She was very wanted, very wished-for, very planned, very, very, very loved. I will miss her every single day for the rest of my life.

I don't want to hurt this much forever, but I do not ever want a day to go by that I don't think of her, either.

How?

2008-05-01T10:19:00.004-05:00

I'm definitely feeling that "how can the world go on???" feeling that I was told about. I feel like leaving random posts on blogs I read saying "My baby died! I'm so glad you have those cute baby things you're making, but don't you realize that my world has changed forever???"

Of course, these random bloggers have no idea what their reader's are going through nor should they, really, that's not how this is all set up.

I ran into a friend of a friend the other day and she was so glad to see me and I didn't know how to have a light conversation--small talk. I wanted to say, "I'm sorry I don't seem happy to see you. My baby just died and I just don't have any happiness left right now." Perhaps I should have?

I know the world is not going to stop for me and my grief. I am so very grateful that I am not carrying it alone. I'm surrounded by people who are grieving with me, who miss Hazel, too, and who are gentle with us as we figure out our new normal.

This prayer is from the Church of Ireland's Book of Common Prayer and I find much comfort in it--A "full knowledge" of Hazel!--I thought I would share it here:

Almighty God, creator and keeper of life,
we acknowledge that our child Hazel is your child,
loved since before the foundation of the world.
Grant us such trust
in the finished work of your Son our Saviour
that we shall look with hope
towards a full knowledge of Hazel,
whose earthly life we have so little shared
but who is now complete with Christ in you.

Poem.

2008-04-29T09:55:00.003-05:00

We've been trying to plan the memorial service for Hazel. It's so much more for US, though--a chance to publically recognize that this small life was our daughter and that we loved her so very much. Her siblings still cry about missing her--her mama will cry every day for a very, very long time.

Some days I feel like I can barely pull through. Everything in my house makes me think of Hazel--even non-baby things. The bed I sleep in where I first really noticed she wasn't moving. The orange chair I sat in while trying to poke and prode her into movement. The couch in the living room where I rested after drinking a soda, hoping for her to wake up. And the most difficult--my own body, where she lived and died. I can't put my own body away. Sometimes I get so freaked out by everything and feel like I can barely breathe.

Gratefully, I have been able to sleep well, thanks to the antihistamines I've been taking to help with my milk drying up.

Ironically, but not surprisingly, based on the name of this blog, one of the hardest things for me has been my milk drying up. I feel like I have to say to my body "I've not cheated you! I'm not formula-feeding this baby! I just don't have a baby to feed!" I took such joy in breastfeeding my little ones for as long as they needed and it breaks my heart that I couldn't have that experience with Hazel.

Here's a poem I'll likely share at the memorial service, from Madeleine L'Engle's book A Ring of Endless Light:

The earth will never be the same again,
Rock, water, tree, iron share this grief
As distant stars participate in pain.
A candle snuffed, a falling star or leaf,
A dolphin death, O this particular loss
Is heaven-mourned; for if no angel cried,
If this small one was tossed away as dross,
The very galaxies then would have lied.
How shall we sing our love's song now
In this strange land where all are born to die?
Each tree and leaf and star show how
The universe is part of this one cry,
That every life is noted and is cherished
And nothing loved is every lost or perished.

Our daughter, our sorrow, our hope

2008-04-25T14:35:00.002-05:00

Hazel Irene Smith was born still on Friday April 18, 2008, at 31 weeks of life in utero. She was 3 lbs. 14 oz. and 17-1/2" long at birth. The cause of death was a knot in the umbilical cord. We are confident of her resurrection and her presence in the full peace of Jesus. Indeed, her middle name – which we had chosen early on in the pregnancy – was strikingly appropriate (eirene is the Greek word for peace).

Jeni was hospitalized early last week for pregnancy complications that ultimately had nothing to do with Hazel's death. She was sent home on Tuesday morning, but late Tuesday night, she became worried because active little Hazel had stopped moving. She went to the hospital and it was confirmed that there was no heartbeat. From Wednesday morning through late Friday afternoon, doctors tried to induce labor in order to avoid a c-section. Having met no success in inducing labor, the doctors moved forward with a c-section on Friday evening.

The last week has been difficult, especially for Jeni who experienced these pains most intimately: experiencing Hazel's death, waiting patiently in hopes of a natural delivery, having to have a c-section, and then starting down the long road of physical and emotional healing. However, we have been comforted by two things. First, we thank God for the loving church community here at Englewood as well as our families who have surrounded us and bore us through this painful week. They sat and waited with us, listened to us, cried with us, held us when we cried, took wonderful care of our older children, came to see Hazel's body, and held her in their arms. But even more, we are comforted by our faith in Jesus Christ's resurrection and the hope (Grk, elpida) we have in Hazel's resurrection as well as our own.

The above was written by my husband, Chris; this comes from me: It is hard for a mother to believe that there is any better place for her child than in her arms; but surely the arms of Jesus are that place.

I've been feeling much darkness, much overwhelmedness these last few days, but I am holding onto the hope that Chris wrote of above.

Thank you for your prayers.

John Luke Walker

2008-01-30T20:03:00.001-05:00

January 2, 2004-January 21, 2008
Nephew and Cousin
Only 4 years. We miss you, little one.

We know you struggled your whole short life, but you are now complete in a way none of us can fully comprehend. We will grieve with your parents and sister, but we truly do rejoice for you.

Ladies and Gentleman, we have a weaner!

2007-12-20T19:09:00.000-05:00

"It's empty, mama"

"That one empty, too"

Oh, yes...we're done. Pregnancy will do that to you. (And having a 33 month old will do that to you, too!)

Oh, yes, pregnancy. Expect another little Smith to arrive in June.

I had an ultrasound last week. I'm a little over 14 weeks now and baby looks great. I have fewer large fibroids than last time, but hundreds, yes, I said HUNDREDS of tiny ones. I measured around 12 weeks overdue when Noah was born (52 cm), and my Doctor expects about the same this time. I'm already measuring about 14 weeks ahead. I'm huge. And Old. This is different the third time around--5 years older. I'm hoping for a VBAC, nurses who will listen to me when I tell them that I don't want eye gunk put on my newborn, people who don't second guess us when we say no circ and no vax at least to start with (the vax's that is, no circ'ing at our house, evah!)

Not-so-secretly I'm hoping for a little girl, although a little boy will be more than welcomed, too. I love my sister and really would like Miriam to have one. And I really like the girl's name we have picked out. So. Those are good reasons, right?

Blabbering...

Poop goes in the potty.

2007-11-03T22:59:00.000-05:00

"Noah, you're big! You can poop in the potty!" (said excitedly by one hopeful Mama)

"No, Mama, I baby" (said disinterestedly by one 2.5 year old boy)

Sigh.

:)

Lancaster Part II

2007-09-28T12:17:00.000-05:00

There was just so much fun this past weekend that I knew it shouldn't all go in one post. I will probably put more pictures up over the next few weeks as I get the ones from my mother's and sister's (not to mention my own) cameras.

I am the only person in my family that does not live within half an hour of everyone else. In fact, I live 10 HOURS away from everyone else. It sucks, quite frankly. However, we try to make the best of it (and, truly, I couldn't imagine moving away from Indy), and get the cousins to spend good quality time together while we can.

My mother usually has something special for my kids when we visit. I know she does this for the other grandkids, too, but since my children don't see her and my dad very often, they really look forward to the new toy, book, movie, etc. And I like it because usually the toy or movie stays at Meemaw and Pappy's house (the books usually come home with us)!

This visit, Mom and Dad set up the new tunnel toy my mother had bought for the kids. They loved it. All of them. It was a hoot watching them crawl and dive and somersault through it.

We spend a wonderful evening with my sister, painting pumpkins (and ourselves!) and making s'mores. The kids started out the evening by getting completely soaking in the fishpond.

Oh, the glorious mess of the painting! Both Gavin and Moses started painting their own bodies. Gavin ended up covered with paint and as happy as could be.

Lancaster

2007-09-26T09:31:00.000-05:00

Oh, how I love to visit my hometown. It's always happy and sad together because my little family loves spending time with my big family, but I'm reminded through-out the entire visit all that my kids are missing from not growing up where I grew up. They have trash, drunkards, prostitutes and bad lawn care. They're missing beautiful rolling fields, wide-open space and Meemaw, Pappy, Aunts, Uncles and cousins. But that's looking at the glass half-empty, isn't it?

They're memories of growing up will be nothing like my memories of growing up, except...EXCEPT...they will be good memories. Because although those things mentioned above are all around us, they are also surrounded by loving neighbors, friends galore, and a church community that I can't imagine being without.

And the memories they make while visiting Lancaster will be memories they will treasure.

Thankful.

2007-09-12T15:06:00.000-05:00

I was thinking the other day of how thankful I am for all sort of little (yet big to me) things.

I’m thankful that I have wonderful friends on whom I can completely rely. For instance, Noah and I went to help my sister-in-law, Heidi, with her two children, one of whom had just had surgery. I was supposed to be gone a little less than a week. My friends helped out and really took care of Chris, Alex and Miriam while Noah and I were gone. When my stay got extended, not only did my friends help out more, but they did my work (as in my I-get-paid-for-this work) for me, too.

I’m thankful that we didn’t pursue getting our windows installed by the company that now seems to have vanished off the face of the earth.

I’m thankful that many of the things I worry about (carseats, vaccines, diapers, toys, etc) are really a sign of just how good I have it.

I'm thankful for 3 children who are creative and full of energy and full of love.

I'm thankful for a husband who is truly a partner, who respects me, who works hard for our family, and whose purpose is not defined by us or other people.

Will he ever wean??

2007-09-10T14:33:00.000-05:00

I’ve said that I wanted Noah to wean when he was ready…but he’s going on 31 months (that’s almost THREE!) with no signs of weaning. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’ll go days without nursing, then suddenly say, “Murr, Mama?” about 51,000 times.

I’m not really complaining, because I know I could wean him at any time if I truly wanted to and besides, would you say “no” to this face?

Besides, he’s probably my last baby—Do I really want him to grow up so fast?

Just FYI, I have no idea why he is pouting in this picture. I was taking pics of all the kids at Miriam's pirate birthday party; perhaps he didn't want his pic taken?

Madeleine L'Engle, 1918-2007

2007-09-08T15:26:00.000-05:00

So much has been written about Madeleine L'Engle in the last couple of days, and although my first thought on reading the NY Times Obit was that she wouldn't have liked being classified as a Children's author, I do think it's a nice piece. You can read it here, unfortunately you have to log in.

It's easy to find out all about why Ms L'Engle was important to the world, but this is why she's so important to me:

Back in May of 1997, I’d been out of college for a year and was working for Borders. One of my very good friends from college had been a huge Madeleine L’Engle fan, so when I saw her latest book was available in hardcover, I snapped it up. I completely fell in love with the book and thought perhaps I could find some sites about L’Engle on the good ol’ world wide web. I found Bonastra.

I joined the discussion community and was thrilled to find others who love L’Engle’s writing. I had some questions about issues that were raised because of her writing, so I contacted the community “manager” because 1) I could tell he held beliefs similar to my own, 2) he seemed “wise”.

The manager, Chris, and I started emailing back and forth a couple times a week. I assumed, because of his writing style, that we was much older than me. I was a bit flustered when I discovered he was my own age exactly (23 at the time).

In September of that year, Chris made a trip from Indianapolis to the East coast and stopped at my parents’ home for an afternoon/evening. It was awkward, not at all romantic, but yet still interesting, to meet the person I had been writing to for 4 months. After this trip, there were many long phone calls, real letters and mix tapes (!!!) traveling between Indiana and PA.

In November, I made a trip to Indianapolis. It was during this trip (only the second time to meet IRL) that Chris and I decided to see if our weird online/long distance relationship could work.

In January, I moved to Indy, where I was transferred by Borders. Despite how it appears, we were in no real hurry. I lived with a family from his church, until I moved in with a friend. We got engaged in December of 1999 and were married in August of 2000. I met my best friend, lover and partner all because of Madeleine L’Engle.

I hope that children, youth and adults continue to read and pass down the love of her books. I hope that people read more than the typical "Time Quartet" and delve into some of her more obscure books (more on those in the next few days).

My husband just told me about another obit/memorial article here.
He would highly recommend it (I'm off to read it now).

Handmade/Locally made Christmas

2007-09-07T12:17:00.000-05:00

Since this post will be virtually photo-free, I thought I'd include an oldy-but-goody of Noah "helping" me knit a blanket.

I've been itching to get some real crafting done, but I feel bogged down and un-creative b/c of the state of my intensely cluttered craft room. Reading Hilary's blog yesterday really inspired me to get off my duff and do something about that clutter. So, expect to see some before and after pics next week. Jena, if you're reading this, keep me accountable!

I've got lots of things planned for Christmas. We give each of our kids 3 gifts and a stocking. Most years the stocking stuffers end up being junky little things and this year I'd really like to make them some cool stuffers. Also, Chris and I decided to be a bit old-fashioned and give them each a nice orange (which they all LOVE) and some cool candies. I'd love to find some neat old-timey candies.

I'm keeping a list here of what I'd like to make and how well I'm accomplishing it.

Each of the kids are getting a suitcase from Pottery Barn Kids. (We got them for $15 a piece, gotta love the outlets--and sisters who drive to the outlets and buy them for you!) Now, I need 2 more gifts for each kid.

Alex- No ideas yet

Miriam- No ideas yet

Noah- A hobby horse. I'm using this pattern from Fern and Faerie. My mil had made one like it for Chris, which they gave to our kids, but Alex broke it.

Stockings-
Crayon rolls like this one:

I've got great fabrics picked out for each kid. Robots and gadgets for the boys and blue and brown various designs for Miriam.

I've got so much else floating around in my head, but the kids are asking me to help them make a tent.

IQ.

2007-05-06T15:34:00.000-05:00

I've been spending a ridiculous amount of time looking up high school and college classmates on MySpace (especially since I'm not spending much time online right now.)

I have so many mixed feelings (he looks so YOUNG! She was in my class?, etc), so instead I'll post this, cuz it makes me feel all better. (And we know that internet IQ quizzes are so very acurate):

Projects

2006-08-14T00:25:00.002-05:00

I've got a few things to work on in the next two days. We're going to see my parents so that I can help my mom get her classroom in order. She just had surgery and isn't quite up to her normal (super crazy) level of activity. We're also going to celebrate my nephew Moses's first birthday. So, I have to make his bday present, make a gift for my sister (a thank you for letting us stay with them), and I really want to make a couple of I-Spy pillow for a couple of her friends. We'll see what gets done.

For now, I'll show you a little knitting project that finally got completed and handed off to it's recipient. Here's Pinwheel:

And here's the best part of my post. My dear friend Jena and her husband Kate just welcomed their first little one. You can read about it on her blog. There's a pic and a wonderful birth story.

Some Craftiness

2006-08-07T16:45:00.000-05:00

I've been very intrigued by some of the neat Waldorf/natural/handmade crafts that seem to abound on the internet. I made Alex a Waldorf doll for Christmas and it was HARD...I know why people charge upwards of $100 for them! However, I've found a neat craft that I can actually do--Bendy dolls. Here are my first ones:

If you want to see some that are made much better than mine, check out Mother Hues or Natural Playthings. I love these 2 sites.

Delay, delay, delay...

2006-08-05T23:28:00.000-05:00

I suck at updating this blog. I hope to be a bit more regular about it, but I've said that before, so we shall see.

To catch up:

Miriam turned 3 the end of July, so I have 2 3 year olds now. Noah is 16 months and his lovely curly hair is getting long enough that people ask me if "that little girl" is mine.
Does he look like a girl to you?

At the beginning of the month we went on a week long visit to the New Meadow Run community, one of the many Bruderhof communities world-wide. The daily life there was very, very different than what any of us are accustomed to. Either Chris or I dropped the kids off at the "babyhouse" at 7:30 each day; then we went about the work we had set out for us. The kids ate lunch AND dinner with their age groups and were picked up at 5. We then had family time and put the kids to bed so that we could attend the evening meal (grade 5 and up) at 7. I thought the kids would HATE this (I wasn't so sure I'd like it--I really enjoy staying home with the kids and I've chosen to do that very thing). However, the kids loved it. Noah and Alex were especially glad to see us each evening, but all three kids simply loved being in their groups. Noah even started going on the potty, like all his little classmates. Miriam would have been fine to spend even more time with her group, but she always ran to us and hugged us, too.

I'd love to process some of our expereiences some more, but I hope to write more about them, too:

Here are some pics from that trip.

(forgive the awful pic of me--I blame it all on the fibroids and hernia!)

A story to tell

2006-03-28T20:35:00.000-05:00

http://palmerlp.livejournal.com

Palmer's story is one of redemption, hope, heartache and grace. I wish everyone had been reading of the last 3 years.

Heartbreak.

2006-03-27T23:38:00.000-05:00

So much pain and bad news today.

Dear friends hurting and being hurt, trying to muddle their way through their heartbreak.

Mark Palmer has died and left this earth, but we trust that he is painfree and surrounded by love that we can only begin to imagine. Our hearts hurt and we pray for peace for Amy and Micah.

I do not understand this. I can not make sense of it.

tagged

2006-02-20T22:30:00.001-05:00

I've been tagged by Amy and I find these little things rather fun (it's great for those of us who are so tired we can't think of anything to write and yet want to, desperately.

four jobs i've had in my life:
- Waitress
- Barista
- Bookseller
- Bookkeeper

four movies i can watch o'er and o'er:
- Love Actually (promise I'm not copying)
- Lord of the Rings trilogy
- first 3 Star Wars
-

four places i have lived:
- Lancaster, PA
- Cincinnati, OH
- Houghton, NY
- Indianapolis, IN

four tv shows i love to watch:
(we don't have a tv, sadly for me)

four places i have been on vacation:
- Ocean City, MD
- Los Angeles, CA
- Paris, France
- Minneapolis, MN

four of my favorite dishes:
- Home made Macaroni and Cheese
- Any Pasta with Alfredo Sauce
- Amish BBQ Chicken from Lancaster--mmmmm
- Rita's Italian Ice

four websites i visit daily:
- dooce.com
- amitymama.com
- bloglines.com (and then onto many, many blogs
- sewingmamas.com

four places i would rather be:
- Lancaster, PA
- Kalona, IA
- Ephrata, PA
- Anywhere relaxing (with my family, naturally)

four bloggers i tag:
- Jena
- Chris
(I think I've read this already on all the other blogs, but feel free to join in!)

Oh, and the reason...

2006-02-20T22:25:00.001-05:00

I've not been too inclined the write down much in this here blog, because I have some strong ideas of where I want it to go, more into the crafty-parenting spectrum (as opposed to just parenting). However, I'm really not happy with the herculean effort need to upload my pictures to my computer and then to get them to blogger. The "easy upload" feature on blogger doesn't work for me and despite numerous emails asking for help, I've receieved nothing but form e-mails. Sigh.

So, as soon as we figure out the picture problem, I'm sure I'll post more.

Well, ummm...

2006-02-20T22:11:00.000-05:00

It's been a long time. We've been doing find here, preparing for Alex's 3rd birthday! (All he wants is a "boo coo cay!"--blues clues cake).

Alex's speech is coming along really well and with that comes greater assertion of his will. He's very good at giving me a teen-agery sounding O-AY, MOM! When I ask him to do something. Miriam is discovering that Alex will not always bend to her will. I'm proud of that boy. Miriam is not one to be crossed. He's a brave one.

Last week Miriam hit one of her friends and I grabbed her arm to make her look at me and:
"Miriam! We do NOT hit!"
"Mama! We do NOT pinch!"
"I'm not pinching you."
"Yes, you ARE!"

She's been running around the house barking like a dog and licking people. We have to remind her, when we're out in public, that although she is allowed to bark, licking strangers is a no-no.

Noah has been teething lately is wants to held often. When I get overwhelmed by all I have to do, I remind myself that he'll be little for such a short time. He's really a delightful, loving, smiley little boy. He's almost 11 months old. It's funny that although he has both "girl" and "boy" toys surrounding him, he's gravitated to cars, trains, keys, etc. Although he does also love the little strawberry shortcake dolls. I wonder if we inadvertantly do something that makes him go toward those things. We generally don't hand him toys--we let him discover them for himself.

I do wonder what's up with my children. I could never have weaned either of them by a year (not that I wanted to), not without some drama. Noah is as attached to my breasts as he was 6 months ago. It doesn't bother me, in fact, secretly I'm glad that I must make some fine milk--they both nursed far more than they ate solid foods--even at ten months. Because my doctor suggested delaying solids until a year b/c of Noah's mammoth size, this works out well all around.

Everything is Rent

2005-11-28T13:57:00.000-05:00

I couldn't stand waiting anymore and went to see the movie on Saturday night. I seriously had goosebumps during parts of it ("Seasons of Love", The Life Cafe Scene, "Take me for what I am"). I didn't love, love, love it, but I would definitely reccommend it to people who loved the play. I'll buy it when it comes out on DVD, too...so take that for what it's worth. I'm not feeling up to writing much of a review, but I will say I agree with much of what Roger Ebert says..and you can read that here. (Except, since I am a lover of the play, I'd give it 4 stars.)

I have the flu and feel yucky. That's why this isn't longer. Perhaps I'll edit later.

Midnight Showing

2005-11-18T11:41:00.000-05:00

I went to the theater last night to see Harry Potter. Well worth the exhaustion I feel this morning. It was fun to pretend for one night that I didn't have 3 kids waiting to wait me up at their eariest convenience the next morning.

My advice to all who go see this movie is in three parts. 1)Remember that the book was approximately 5 million pages long and that the only way to get all the details in the movie would be to make a 6 hour BBC production from it (and then it would still piss people off. So, not worth it). 2)Because of all that was cut out, try not to be too attached to your favorite book scene. It probably isn't in the movie. 3)If you want to reread the book before you see the movie and you haven't done so already, don't.

That being said, I liked it. I wasn't too sure after the first 20 minutes (you'll understand when you see it), but I actually think "they" did a good job of cropping the story down to manageable form without losing the INTENT of the book. There are major scenes and characters missing (I'll tell you if you wanna be prepared, but I don't want to post here; I'd like to keep my friends happy with me). There were still some jarring moments (first 20 minutes), but once I acclimated myself to the style, I was fine.

I like Neville; I'm glad he was more "present" in this movie. Fred and George are perfectly cast and this movie plays them up a bit more. Ron has grown on me (and has grown, period). Hermione is, of course, too pretty, but I kinda like that in a movie girl. Cho has a charming accent. Harry looks perfectly awkward and gangly and properly "child/adult" for this year of his life. McGonagall is a favorite and although neither she nor Snape had large rolls, they both got out-loud laughs from me. I really like Mad-Eye, too.

Well, that's as good as I can do with 4 hours of sleep.

IMCPL is cool, can you believe it?

2005-11-16T20:12:00.000-05:00

About a week ago, I requested that our local library purchase the Denyse Schmidt quilt book everyone's been talking about on the craft blogs.

Look what I found today!

Now, I'm not a total ego-maniac. Probably lots of people requested this (someone put it on hold before me--blast them!)...but they listen; they really listen!!!

Raising Non-Violent Children?

2005-11-16T15:10:00.000-05:00

Any ideas from anyone on books?
Any ideas from anyone, period?

It amazes me every day the subtle (and not-so-subtle) things our kids see that fly in the face of what we're trying to teach them. For example, there was an ad on a website that showed a man shooting a bird. Now, I'm not getting into any hunting arguments here, but any picture of a person shooting anything is violent. My kids didn't see the picture (they're aren't interested in the computer), but that's what got me to thinking.

I've read some great articles in Mothering, but the articles often assume that you are surrounded by those who agree with you. Our closest friends are, for the most part, in agreement. But the majority of people in our neighborhood, city and state do not. So, how do combat the daily doses of violence kids are subjected to?

We don't watch T.V. at all, although we do watch DVDs. We read tons of books. We try to model gentle ways in our parenting.

Any other ideas?

2005-11-16T14:48:00.000-05:00

Just found this funny old picture of Miriam. It's rather appropriate for this day, as she's a bit, um, overgrown in the hair department. I don't trust my skill with the blades and Christmas (and my sister's stylist skills) are too far away...I think I may actually take her to one of the kiddie hair cut places. I can't even believe myself, but there you have it.

All 3 of my kids are asleep right now--at 3 pm. Miracles do happen.

Off to cut out a cool dress for Princessa using painting red rhinos fabric and an Ottobre pattern. My first Ottobre pattern. Will post pics if my hubby fixes our USB port.

Store Wars

2005-11-11T11:31:00.000-05:00

My mom and I have been talking about supporting local farmers, etc...and she emailed me this link today. It's very funny and smart, but mostly I think someone had a LOT of time on their hands--all those little details!

Store Wars

Inspiration/Frustration

2005-11-08T22:04:00.000-05:00

I had a pretty inspiring couple of days. I went to hear Wendell Berry speak last night as part of the Spirit and Place Festival. It also coincided with a conference with the Ekklesia Project. So I spent two days being really inspired about staying and commiting to the people, place, commmunity we live in. (We also met some really cool people and their adorable daughter. I have to say, too, that Ragan Sutterfield was inspiring to talk to and I would have attended a conference with him as the main speaker. I was bummed b/c Chris really wanted a chance to speak with him and didn't get to.)

Tonight we went to another Spirit and Place event that was sponsored by Slow Food Indy on the slow food lifestyle, primarily buying and eating sustainable, locally grown food. Chris and I were really inspired. First of all, we eat too much. Second of all, I do the grocery shopping and I'm very susceptible to buying junk. Third of all, if we commited to eating in a different way, we'd both lose weight. Fourth of all, we'd be supporting our neighbors.

However, the food is just so expensive! Local, organic milk runs from $5-$10 a gallon. Eggs are $3 a dozen. Everything is about double the price. It's a HUGE cut in the amount of food we'd be able to buy. That's our frustration.

So this is our plan--use all but $15-20 of our weekly grocery budget to buy from our local, organic farmer's market, held at Trader's Point Creamery. and to try to base our meals around food available locally during this season (this will admittedly get harder in winter, as we didn't put ANYTHING up this year, not even applesauce!). We haven't been going to the market for awhile, because the prices were so high, but after tonight's session we understand better WHY they are so high and the importance of buying from local famers, despite the price.

We'll use the remaing $15-$20 for things we need from the regular store (tp, oil, etc). We'll see how it goes. Here are some of the venders we like at the farmer's Market. Sharritt Market Gardens, Apple Family farm,Brown Family Farm (we buy most of our stuff from Craig and Katie Brown and they are very, very nice), and The Swiss Connection. Every one of these farmers, except for the Brown family, were at the meeting tonight and I got to speak with them in depth for the first time. I have to say that Mr. Sharritt is funny, funny, funny--I dont' know why I found him so intimidating at the market before.

Anyway, here's my inspiration/frustration post written on adrenaline and probably impossible to understand.

Alex and Miriam were with other people about 90% of today and they did great. I love my little ones.

More kids pics.

2005-11-06T23:25:00.000-05:00

I found some great ones of Alex from earlier in October. We went to a pumpkin patch nearby, went on a hay ride, picked a pumpkin, climbed on hay, etc. We didn't get any good pics of all the kids together, but I managed to get really cute ones of both Alex and Miriam.

Here's Miriam, loving the world. Doesn't she look so much older than just-turned-two in this pic?

Alex loves all things on wheels--cars, bikes, trucks, motorcycles. His favorite toys are cars (big and small) and keys (preferably real ones). No wonder he looks so at home during the hay ride:

I found this pic of Miriam from several months ago and it's notable for two reasons. 1) It shows the lovely dress
Jena made for her. 2) She looks so darn cute.

Alex has taken to running away. He's not mad or upset, he just likes to walk. So he puts on a "ba pa" and goes on his way. Recently he's gotten Miriam into the act and since they learned to open the doors they don't even take the time to find backpacks, they just take any opportunity they can to make a break for it. Here's a pic from Alex's first time "running away."

And finally, a lovely picture of my Monster Baby--Dinosaur Noah. (He's pictured with the amazing Dinosaur Simeon, who is destined to be his best friend, because, well, both their Moms say so!)

In other news, I working on my first Waldorf doll. I got a kit from Joy's Waldorf Dolls. Either I'm getting better at sewing or Joy has the best instructions ever b/c I'd heard that these dolls were a PITA to make, but it's coming along really nicely so far. I made the head tonight, which I'd been dreading, but it really looks good. I even gave the little guy a nose.

The doll is for Alex for Christmas. I planned on the doll being a boy, but I keep saying "she" in my head while making it. Perhaps it'll be a very short haired girl baby? May Alex can decide.

I'll post pics soon (I even took some in progress ones), but since our USB port isn't working (ARGH), it's a PITA to upload pics. Blah.