Nap Time

Nap time is quiet.  Typically, I use the quiet time for my personal time.  I can read a magazine, exercise, plan our week’s meals, or let’s be honest, shower or use the bathroom!  Today’s nap time was a little different.  I got Addalee down for her nap with little to no effort, one benefit of playing until she can barely hold her eyes open!  Then I went into my room and surveyed the space.  My eyes were drawn to the picture of Arthur and me kissing Caroline’s precious little face that I have on my nightstand.  My chest actually hurt with the sorrow of missing her.  I broke down.  I sobbed.  I haven’t allowed myself the time to really let it all flow in quite some time, so I guess I had a backlog to catch up on.  Don’t get me wrong, I never stop missing her.  But I just usually don’t let myself slow down enough to really concentrate on the hugeness of her absence. 

I keep a toy box in our room that has Caroline’s name on it.  It was a shower gift.  It’s happy and pink and has flowers.  Exactly what I think she would like.  Instead of being filled with toys, it’s filled with little pieces of memories.  I’ve kept things from the pregnancy, little outfits that were never shared, all of her monogrammed bibs, burp cloths, cuddlies, etc.  And then there’s her baby book.  I started it a couple of weeks before she was born.  I never dreamed she wouldn’t be staying to fill up those monthly updates and immunization records.  There are also sympathy cards that we received from some truly amazing people.  I read them all again today.  That might sound strange, but to know that people recognized my sweet one’s life and passing is comforting.  To know they were sad with us, cried with us, hurt with us is encouraging. 

Caroline’s super special things are actually in a fire safe at our house.  They stay in a different place because they’re irreplaceable…the clipping of her hair, her chubby hand prints and footprints, the bracelet she wore, and her ultrasound dvd.  I actually watched it once, just to see her heart beating, her “breathing.”  Just to remember what it looked like to se her living.  I probably will watch it again someday, but I couldn’t do it today.

Nap time is so different than what I envisioned when we originally bought that crib.  The baby sleeping in it now isn’t the one that we’d planned on.  Things may not be as we planned, but they’re definitely happy (albeit with a decent dollop of sadness).  I will forever miss my first baby, my little Caroline.  And I will be forever grateful for her little sister, the ray of sunshine that she is.

When Addalee woke up from her nap, she saw my red eyes and looked at me strange for just a second.  Then she reached up her chubby little arms for me to pick her up.  She smiled, and giggled and cooed…exuding joy.  She is like salve to my soul, exactly what I needed.   

102.4

The sickness has been skulking around our house for over a week now.  It started with what I think was a stomach bug for Addalee, and then morphed into a semi-high fever and a pitiful sick little girl.  After getting her to the doctor and on the mend, Arthur and I started having some allergy/cold type gunk.  I don’t get sick often, so I’m kind of a giant baby when I do.  Poor hubby.

Something about dealing with sickness has made me miss Caroline all the more.  It seems like whenever we go through things with Addalee, I think more about Caroline.  I wonder how much more prepared for things I would have been if she had lived.  I mean, of course I would be more prepared…I would have a 1.5 year old; I would have been through a bunch of this before!  But then, as I’ve talked a little about before, I wonder how much less of a crazy person I would be about it.  In the name of full disclosure, I’ll just tell you that I thought of all the worst case scenarios when her fever kept climbing.  I envisioned a trip to the ER followed by a bunch of doctors, lots of tests, tubes, IVs, beeping equipment, etc.  I know that’s not what happens when kids get a minor infection.  But my mind always jumps there…possibly since I wouldn’t let it that horrible night with Caroline, and then we lived the worst case scenario. 

I’m pleased to announce that despite my wondering mind, I kept myself under control.  I gave her meds and kept her comfy, snuggled her, and kissed her hot little head.  I loved her harder because she was sick and she needed her mom.  I loved her harder because I didn’t get to care for her big sister that way.  I loved her harder thinking that maybe Caroline could feel it.

I guess it’s just a constant ebb and flow.  Sometimes I feel like I am on top of it all and able to handle things as they come, and sometimes I’m overwhelmed and truthfully, kind of scared.  Sometimes the grief I still carry missing Caroline is bearable, and sometimes I feel like it’s so heavy on my chest I can barely breathe.  But I keep managing and surviving, with lots of love, help, grace, and encouragement.  

Caroline's Spot and a Follow Up

I wish that visiting Caroline’s grave was easier for me.  I wish that I had that sense of peace and closeness to her that I thought I would have.  But honestly, seeing that tiny headstone and the bright flowers and tiny white fence, it rips my heart out.  It’s a reminder.  It’s not like I ever forget that she’s missing and that I’d give my own life to have her, but visiting her spot makes it hit me again…it’s real.  It really happened.  She really lived.  And she really is gone. 

Even though it’s emotionally difficult for me, I feel like it’s important to visit her grave as often as I can.  This past weekend was a special opportunity though.  As I’ve said before, Caroline is buried in a family cemetery.  I’m always thankful for this because I know that she’s always surrounded by the love of her/our family since she’s always close by for them.  Currently there are only 2 family members buried there, Arthur’s grandfather, and little Caroline. 

Arthur’s uncle has built a fence around the cemetery and asked the family to come and write our names, or whatever we’d like, in the concrete on top of the posts.  So, the whole family came up to do some clean-up and decorate the posts.  We were given the post closest to our sweet girl’s grave. 

We put Addalee’s hand prints.

And Caroline’s name with a little butterfly.

Overall, it was a great experience.  I’m thankful that Arthur’s family has worked so hard to make it such a beautiful place. 

And now a follow-up from last week’s post:

 

I have to admit, I didn’t expect to get nearly as many comments on my last post.  I wasn’t really sure that posting about this particular personal struggle would be a good thing, but it has been!  I feel so encouraged and loved!  Thank you!

It did my heart good to hear from each of you who responded with your own struggles and advice.  Somehow I had convinced myself that while I wasn’t alone in my grief of losing Caroline, I was in this particular struggle. Thank you for showing me that isn't the case, it means so much to me.

And finally a picture of Addalee…mostly just ‘cause I want to :)

 I just realized that it almost looks like she's giving a thumbs up! 

Rainy Days and Mondays

I hate it, but it seems like some of my harder days do coincide with dreary weather.  We've had several dreary days, and I think they're taking a toll on me.  The other night, I was laying in bed, and it hit me.  Like a ton of bricks, I realized that we really did lose Caroline.  It was like I had been living in a dream for a time, and crashed back into real life.  I never have forgotten her, not for a second.  But it was almost like I was living a story, almost like it was too awful to be real.  But it was.  It is.  It hurt.  All over again.  All I could do was cry.  And since that night, I've been in a funk.  

I guess it kind of started when we made plans to attend a birthday party for some friends' daughter.  She turned 2.  They invited us, and for the first time since we lost Caroline, I was okay with going to a child's birthday.  I didn't skip a beat, we were just going to be there.  It was Addalee's first birthday party!  I was excited.  After buying a little gift and thinking about what it was going to be like, I was sad.  I was sad because Caroline isn't here and we should have been going to her little friends' birthday parties.  We should have gone to my closest friends' daughters' birthday parties that I had to bow out of because no one wants the scary crying lady at their kids' party!  

Long story short on the birthday party...it was very nice.  A good time was had by all, but it was bittersweet for me.  I guess so many things will be, and I'm just sad about that.  I think something else that's getting to me, is watching the wonders of Addalee growing up.  She's already 4 months old!  She is amazing!  She's funny and sweet and curious and crazy.  She's beautiful and fun and a buddy.  We missed so much with Caroline, and I hate that.

But, just as the weather will inevitably clear, this funk will lift off of me.  I'm ready.  I miss my girl, even on the sunshiny days, but these rainy days seem to get me down.

Papa's Fudge

Well, Christmas time is here again.  Whether we're ready or not, it's upon us.  I honestly don't know exactly how I'm feeling about it this year.  Last year was really tough, it was only 2 months after we lost Caroline.  I was only just surviving at that point.  I remember decorating the house just on auto-pilot.  There were some things I didn't even remember getting out.

This year is completely different.  We have Addalee here.  It's amazing to have this gummy-smiling sweetheart of a little girl here with us.  But there's a big sister missing.  And her place in our family is WIDE OPEN.  I can feel the heaviness of her absence every single day, but maybe even more-so with the holidays.  So, I guess I'll explain my feelings as happy and so sad.  Just as they are most of the time, only magnified by all the lights and songs and happy family movies, etc.

I am thankful for my amazing family and I'm excited to get to spend time with all of them.  Everyone has traditional things that they love to make each year.  We actually kind of switch it up...we have a pool of things and just pick different ones each year.  My grandfather, or Papa, as we called him, was an amazing cook.  He helped my grandmother in the kitchen and out.  He was such a great man, and we miss him terribly.  My grandmother gave me his fudge recipe years ago...it was one of his favorite things.  So I made it.  And so should you.

Here's the recipe:

Seriously.  Make it.  You'll thank me. :)

And Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

Thanksgiving and Such

I really need to start doing better about posting updates.  But, let's face it...life is busy.  And I may be a horrible time manager these days.  Back in my professional life, I did much better about it.  I was a To-Do lister from the word go.  I worked to make sure that I was accomplishing the tasks required to get the job done.  Now though, I don't make To-Do lists.  I basically just try to get as much done during the day as possible, but I feel so disorganized!  Honestly, I just try to keep up with little Ms. Addalee!  She does a pretty good job of telling me what needs to happen yet.  I spend more time with rattles and Kick and Play seats than I do at my sewing machine and craft table, and while the house is a wreck, I'm right where I'm supposed to be.

This all leads me to what I'm thankful for this year.  I have so much to be thankful for.  In my last post, I shared some of my very personal and raw feelings about feeling jealousy and anger.  I was told by one person that I seemed ungrateful and insensitive.  I hate that she felt that way.  I really do.  I never want to hurt someone with my words, never.  That's not what this blog is about.  It's about healing and love, and sometimes crafts and recipes :)  I share what I feel from my heart.  So, I will reiterate that I'm sorry if my words hurt you or seemed insensitive.  But I can't apologize for how I felt and feel.  I'm so thankful for Addalee, and all the other tons of blessings showered on me.  In the same breath as my thankfulness and joy, are hurt and sorrow and longing for little Caroline.  But this is just the balance that I'm trying to learn to live with.  Most days, I hold my head up and go through my day...other days, I just go through the motions.

Depression has been something that I've battled for years.  There, I said it.  It's like a dirty little secret.  A skeleton in my closet.  My depression started being unmanageable when I was 18.  I was a senior in high school, and it got out of hand.  Through years of hard work and some medication from time to time, I have learned to live with it.  I have learned how to manage this dark cloud that just sweeps in sometimes.  I think that this depression still lurks.  I think that it hangs around and waits to jump on my back when it senses weakness...and sometimes, I feel weak.  I have been working really hard lately to keep this ugly monster at bay recently, and I'm tired of working on it, to be honest.  I think that's why I've been having more anger, jealousy, and sadness than I was having for a while.  But, I guess the first step is realizing you have a problem, right?  So, I'm just going to keep on keeping on.

Thankfully, (see how I brought it back around there...pretty good, huh?) I have a super supportive family and a bright eyed, generally smiley little girl here to help me out.  Addalee is growing so much and I want her to SLOW DOWN!  She had her first Thanksgiving this year and she is gearing up for her first Christmas!  She already gave us her wishlist!  That stinker!

My family doesn't really do a traditional, "What are you thankful for?" thing, but I wish they did.  So, since I didn't do an official list anywhere, I'm going to give a few things that I'm thankful for now.
1.  My salvation - my guarantee that I'll see all my loved ones again
2.  My daughters - they're both amazing girls, and they've both changed my life in huge ways
3.  My husband - my constant companion, my best friend, and my strong shoulder to cry on
4.  My family - a crazy bunch of people who love me, even though they know me
5.  My friends - always supportive and always there
6.  Provisions - having a comfortable house, good food, clean clothes, dependable car

Just a few pictures from our Thanksgiving:

Small Enough

Have you ever wondered if anyone is listening?  Or felt so defeated that you just wanted to lay down right where you are?  Or just wanted a hug or some reassurance?  Or needed to know that SOMEONE truly cared?  I know I have. 

Another thing I know is that life is both beautiful and messy.  Surviving the deaths of those that you love is messy.  Grieving is dirty work.  It’s hard and exhausting and painful and indefinite.  It’s ugly.  Yet while you’re doing that ugly work, there are the “simple” miracles of the sunrise, or rainbows, or the beauty of the fall leaves around you to remind you that it’s not all bad.  Life is good.  But sometimes, it sure is hard to see the forest for the trees…

On November 7, 2008 my cousin Brian passed away.  He was like a brother to me.  Being an only child, and growing up so close with my cousins, they were (and still are) my brothers.  Brian was only 32 when he went Home.  He had a heart attack.  It still doesn’t seem real to me.  I know it is, yet I can’t completely reconcile the fact that he really is gone.  When Addalee was born, I actually had the thought that I needed to call him and share the news.  Even though it’s been 3 years now since I’ve spoken to him, I still think to call him more often than not.

Because of this anniversary, I’ve been doing some reflecting.  For better or worse, when these days come around, I think about the loved one who is no longer here more than I do on the average day.  Brian is never far from my mind.  I think about how badly I miss him, but after going through what I have with Caroline, my heart is breaking again for his mom.  My aunt is living a nightmare.  She lives each day missing her son.  She has a grave to visit, and that’s no way for any parent to have to live.  The fact that so many of us are living with a piece of ourselves missing breaks my heart and makes me feel small and scared.

I came across this bible verse and it really struck me:  “This you have seen, O Lord; Do not keep silence.  O Lord, do not be far from me.” –Psalm 35:2.  I’m thankful to have had my faith when going through losing Brian and Caroline.  I feel comfort in knowing that we’ll all be reunited one day in Heaven.  Without that comfort, I believe it’d be too much to handle.  But what about those days when Heaven seems so exceedingly far away?!  What about the days when you’re all alone in the here and now?  Sometimes God can seem far away.  Sometimes I feel like I might be lost in the crowd.  I’m assured that this isn’t the case, yet I can’t help but feel it.  I’m so happy that I’m not the only one who has felt this.  I’m blessed by these words from the Bible – O Lord, do not be far from me!  Please let me feel you, comfort me, tell me everything is going to be alright. 

There’s a song that I really identify with called “Small Enough” by Nichole Nordeman.  It’s about feeling so small in the world and the grand scheme of things and defeated, and asking God to be small enough for you to feel Him.  I want to share my favorite part (and encourage you to check out the whole song)

All praise and all the honor be to the God of ancient mystery
Whose every sign and wonder turned the pages of our history
But tonight my heart is heavy
And I cannot keep from whispering this prayer
"Are You there?"

So, I’ve been asking Him, “Are You there?”  And the answer is yes.  Even if it is just a whisper.

Caroline's First Birthday

October has come and gone.  I have to admit, that I’m glad it’s behind me.  October was a month that I was dreading for a while.  It held so much emotion that I was scared to face it.  The thing about most situations is that you can’t avoid them forever.  Even if I had tried to avoid Caroline’s birthday and all the emotion attached to it, the day still would have come.  So, I chose to try to embrace it as much as I could.  Some days were better than others, but overall it wasn’t quite as hard as I thought it would be. 

I couldn’t decide what I thought we should do to honor our sweet girl’s first Heavenly birthday.  It was a lot like picking out her headstone in that nothing seemed good enough.  I saw something from a fellow BLM that really seemed like something I wanted to do.  I went to Hobby Lobby and picked out some fabric that I thought was pretty, and flannel to line them, and made some blankets.  I made 2 boy blankets and 2 girl blankets.  I prayed for the families who would receive these blankets while making them and after they were completed.  I included a letter that Arthur helped me write that shared our sympathy and offered some helpful resources and Bible verses.  We all delivered them to the hospital the day after her birthday as a family.  It was nice to visit the L&D floor not as a patient (I delivered Addie at the same hospital).  I would love for those blankets never to be used…

With Caroline, we actually have 2 anniversaries: the day we got the worst news ever, and the day we got to meet our girl.  So, October 19^th is the saddest day.  I found that the lead up to that day was the worst for me.  I couldn’t help but cry at the drop of a hat.  Thankfully, my awesome husband took off work to spend the day with me that day.  He woke me up with Addalee in his arms and told me that we were going to just get out of the house for the day.  So, I got up and got ready and we spent the day shopping and around town.  It was a welcomed distraction.  We still talked about Caroline and how much we love her and miss her, but I didn’t sit and focus on the sadness of the whole situation. 

On her actual birthday, we went to the cemetery and put fall flowers on her grave.  We spent some time talking to her and telling her about our lives now and about her little sister (I wonder if she can hear us).  It was hard to visit that grave, and that tiny headstone, but it is each time.  I have to say though, that it was really tough to see October 20, 2010 on the stone and know that an entire year has passed since I held that sweet little baby girl.  It’s tough to acknowledge that we’ve spent each and every day of the last year missing her, yearning for her, and thinking of her…and it doesn’t stop here. 

I guess I tried to put a timeline to things – let me explain:  You know when a task is too daunting; you break it down into smaller tasks or pieces.  I had taken on a “one day at a time” kind of existence after we lost Caroline.  It became this even more so in my pregnancy with Addalee.  I dealt with Caroline and Addie together and separately.  The grief with Caroline was so painful that I had to only handle anniversaries as they came. I couldn’t think of anything in the future.  Just like now, I can’t imagine being 5 years away from her.  I couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be out 1 year from that horrible night.  I don’t know for sure how to make this make sense to the rest of the world, but I’m going to give it a shot…it’s almost like I thought that it would get better at 1 year.  Like maybe a little part of me felt like I’d either get her back, or just stop feeling it when I met that mark.  Maybe I felt like if I met that goal, the 1 year mark, I’d have completed the mission and I’d get the reward.  Of course, I know now, and really knew then that it would just be an anniversary and that nothing would change from the day before it to the day after it, except getting to really recognize her.  I think it has helped me though, to know that I’m still standing, and standing with more assurance than I was in the days following losing her.  It helps me to know that we’ve lived through this year.  We’ve done all these firsts and lived to tell about it.

After Caroline’s funeral, we had the whole family to our house.  It was October 22.  Those hours were the only time for quite a while that I remember feeling okay.  Having all those people around us, loving us, loving her, was healing to me.  I didn’t feel like myself, but I did feel like the haze lifted at least momentarily. Well, this year, October 22 fell on a Saturday, so we opted to have everyone over!  I was thrilled that the family was interested and it was wonderful!  We had soup and chili and good conversations.  It was a beautiful clear and sunny day, so it was so nice to be outside.  I got pink, yellow, and white balloons for the balloon release.

They were bright and cheerful and sweet.  We all gathered in the back yard, we all got our balloons and then I said a few words.  Then we released our balloons…

You could see them forever!  It was beautiful!  Happy birthday, little Caroline!

We had this little sweetheart to celebrate big sister’s birthday, which sure was a blessing to this broken heart!

Also – Happy Halloween!

 

The Heartbreak of Infant Loss - by Laura Schubert

I saw this article today and thought that I would share.  It seems that she put into words so much of what I feel and have felt.  I think that many people would do well to read this to possibly understand a little more what it's like to walk this lonely path.

Did you know that October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month? I'll bet not. Despite the infant mortality crisis that's been at the forefront of Milwaukee's public health news for months, the only people who have more than a cursory comprehension of what it means to lose a baby are those who've lived it.

Infant loss is nature's cruelest practical joke. It's investing all of the required time and effort into pregnancy, only to be robbed of the result. It's cradling a body that grew within your own and trying to reconcile the cold, lifeless form in your arms with your memory of the baby who turned double flips in your womb.

It's worrying that you'll forget what your child looked like and snapping an album's worth of photos that no one will ever ask to see. It's sobbing so hard you can't breathe and wondering if it's possible to cry yourself to death.

Infant loss is handing off a Moses basket to the nurse who's drawn the unfortunate duty of delivering your pride and joy to the morgue and walking out of a hospital with empty arms.

It's boxing up brand new baby clothes and buying a 24-inch casket. It's sifting through sympathy cards, willing your foolish body to stop lactating, clutching your baby's blanket to your chest in hopes of soothing the piercing ache in your heart.

It's resisting the urge to smack the clueless individuals who compare your situation to the death of their dog or who tell you you'll have another baby, as if children are somehow replaceable.

Infant loss is explaining to your 7-year-old that sometimes babies die and being stumped into silence when she asks you why. It's watching other families live out your happy ending and fighting a fresh round of grief with every milestone you miss.

It's being shut out of play groups for perpetuity. It's skipping social events with expectant and newly minted mothers because, as a walking worst-case scenario, you don't want to put a damper on the party.

It's listening to other women gripe about motherhood and realizing that you no longer relate to their petty parental complaints because, frankly, when you've buried a baby, a sleepless night with a vomiting toddler sounds something like a gift.

Infant loss is pruning from your life the friends and relatives who ignore or minimize your loss. It's recognizing that, while they may not mean to be hurtful, the fact that they don't know any better doesn't make their utter lack of empathy one whit easier to bear.

My baby girl would have been 5 years old this month. I don't know what she'd look like, what her favorite food would be. I've never had the privilege of tucking her into bed, taking her to the zoo or kissing her boo-boos. I will never watch her graduate or walk down the aisle.

Infant loss is more than an empty cradle. It's a life sentence.

Laura Schubert of New Berlin is a mother, teacher and two-time breast cancer survivor. Emailljschubert@aol.com

I know that life is still beautiful, and that there are still so many blessings.  I mean, God didn't guarantee that I'd get to have Caroline's little sister here!  But here she is, our little Addalee, beautiful and healthy...a living miracle.  The problem is that even though there is immeasurable joy having her in our arms, there's still the heavy sadness of what is missing.  Our family is missing a member.  A family photo will never be complete.  We'll never be "all together," here anyway.  We will always have a space open...as long as we're on this earth.  But if I can't have Caroline here, I'm going to cherish her spot.  Of course I'd give my own life for hers, but that isn't possible.  So, I will hold her place in our family just as important as Addalee's or their Daddy's.  So, in some ways, it's not a life sentence, but a way of life.  True, it's incredibly painful, but I can't focus on the horrible parts of it all the time.  It's the the way of life I would have chosen, but if the alternative is that we never would have known Caroline at all, I'll take the way it is.

Dragging Feet

Have you ever wanted to keep dragging your feet so that you don't have to face something?  Did you normally find that once you did, you had relief?  Perhaps because it wasn't as bad as you had anticipated, or maybe just to have that particular thing behind you lifted weight off your shoulders?

That's how it has typically worked in my life.  I think back to school when I'd have a book report or speech due...I would dread that like the plague, and then feel like I had a new lease on life when it was behind me.  In "adult life," I have had several dreaded things that I've come through.  I have tried to handle them with dignity and grace.  I always thought that I'd be able to.  Being a planner, I figured that I had prepared so that I could handle most any situation that could arise with dignity and grace.  That dignity and that grace went out the window when Caroline died.  My daughter died.  I couldn't muster any dignity, and I lost all my grace.  The only way I have survived to this point is by the sheer grace of God.  I actually feel kind of like I'm running on borrowed strength, under someone else's power.  I feel fairly weak, fragile, broken.

I was blessed to be able to experience so much good since we lost Caroline.  We experienced so many good things in our dark days following her death; little miracles to a crushed family.  Then we got a great big candle in the darkness, our Addalee.  She is such a blessing to this broken mama.  I know that Caroline helped me to love Addie with a love that I didn't have before.  I am incredibly thankful for this.  Caroline brought so many beautiful things into my life, through her life and her death.  She still brings a smile to my face (and a tear to my eye) each day.

Now back to the foot dragging I was talking about earlier.  October is so close.  October.  It used to be one of my favorite months, and autumn one of my favorite seasons.  Now, I'm dreading it.  I'm ignoring it, well, as much as you can ignore the inevitable.  You see, autumn is a wonderful season.  The air is crisp and cool, the leaves are beautiful, there are football games, hay rides, ghost stories, bon fires, trick-or-treating, and in our family, it's birthday season.  My husband, mom, and I all have birthdays in October.  We didn't feel like it was a happy coincidence that Caroline was going to be an October baby too.  Just another person to celebrate!  However, now October holds something I dread.  Each year, will be another year further from her.  Each year I will celebrate how much I love her, how much she changed me, how much I miss her.  Each year I will reflect on where she "should be" this time around, what milestones we're missing with her.  This is hard to face.  I don't want to face it.  I want Octobers not to roll around.  I want an October-less year.  I know this can't happen, and that really, I don't want it to.  I don't want to take the easy way out, Caroline deserves more than that from me, as does Addalee.  But it's so hard to stand up tall, take a deep breath, and just walk into this when all I want to do is cry and cover up my head.

So as I stand here, nearing the end of September, and looking over the edge of October, I'm scared.  I'm scared, but I'm still moving forward.  That's what I have to keep doing...one foot in front of the other.  Not each step is pretty, but I keep taking them.

Having this girl here makes it seem a bit easier

Anniversaries and Keeping Time

It seems like so much of our lives is spent keeping track of dates and times.  We're always counting down until our next appointment, marking off days until our big vacation, a loved one's birthday or retirement, a holiday.  After we lost Caroline, my first countdowns were those first few days after the funeral.  Each day, when 7:27 pm would pass, I'd tick another one off.  Then, I counted down until my 6 week checkup visit.  I had so many questions that I needed to have answered, and it felt like those weeks wouldn't go fast enough.  Then, I graduated to counting months.  And while I was counting "Caroline's months," I was blessed to be able to count Addalee's weeks.

Now, Caroline's little sister is here, and we're counting hours between feedings.  A welcomed countdown, so different than our past experience.  But, we're still counting Caroline's months.  And we're getting very close to Caroline's first birthday in Heaven.  I honestly don't even know what to do with myself.  The method I've chosen to deal with thinking of Caroline's first birthday has been to kind of ignore it up to this point.  It was kind of like I never really expected to get there...does that make sense?  So, we're so close to October that I can smell Autumn in the air.  And I'm terrified.  I don't have any idea what I should do.  I want to honor my sweet girl, my first daughter.  I want others to be able to honor her too.  I'm not sure if I should have a "birthday party," or what.  Basically, I'm clueless.  I don't know what I'm expecting to find from sharing this with all of you, or if I'm just spilling my guts.  Actually, I'm just spilling my guts.  I don't really know how to talk about this to the real world.  I have tons of people around me who support me and love me, but I'm just so stinking weepy when I talk about Caroline's birthday.  I'm missing her so badly these days and I don't want to always be Debby Downer.  I've heard a term that couldn't fit me better - I'm a "happy sad mama."  I'm so happy to have Addalee here, and I'm over the moon for her, but part of my heart is in Heaven with Caroline.

So again, I don't know what to do for Caroline's angelversary.  I want to do something special because I love her so much.  I think that a lot of my problem is that nothing seems good enough.

Ranting and Raving

Yeah, so I've been putting off writing a post like this, but I just need to get this out.  So, consider this your warning...I apologize if this is offensive to anyone, that is not my intention.  K, thanks!

One of my (LEAST) favorite things that people have said to me after losing Caroline is that God just needed another flower for His garden.  I'm going to type it again, and ask that you read it slowly, and really focus on what the words are saying..."God just needed another flower for His garden."  Okay, so let me dissect this...my beloved daughter, whom I had an entire life planned with was plucked (like how I stuck with the garden theme there!?) from our lives to be taken to Heaven to be a mere flower in the garden of God?  He chose MY child to be one of the zillions of measly little flowers in one of His zillions of gardens in Heaven?  Now, I'm not saying that Heaven is not a beautiful place.  I can't even fathom with my earthly perception what glory Heaven must be.  But I know that my child is more important than a flower.  I know this to be a fact.  Now, before you think that I'm just a big fat ogre, I know that people are trying to be helpful when they say things like this.  I have just heard it enough times now that I need to vent about it.  I normally just smile and nod to a comment like this, a comment that proves that this person doesn't get it.  Plain and simply, they do not understand because they've never had to live through something like this.  That is an incredible blessing to them, but their words, though well meaning, are incredibly hurtful and nerve-wracking for me.

Breathe.

Alright, moving on.  One more, and then I should be feeling lighter..."I have a good feeling about this pregnancy."  "I just believe everything is going to be okay this time, I just have that feeling."  This one actually confuses me a little bit.  It confuses me because part of me appreciates it, and then part of me doesn't know what to do with it.  I always want to ask them, "Did you know that Caroline was going to die!?"  "Did you have a BAD feeling about my pregnancy with Caroline!?"  I truly do know that the people who have said this to me are incredibly sweet and mean nothing but the nicest things.  So I'm not really ranting or venting about this one so much as just expressing that I don't really know how to handle it.  I've talked to Caroline's Daddy about this more than a few times.  Our consensus is that we didn't know that everything could go so horribly wrong in our pregnancy with Caroline.  We didn't know to have a good or bad feeling.  No one did.  We were naive, and how I miss that beautiful and light naivete.  I honestly believed that Caroline was going to come home and live here with us.  I had no idea that she was going to be an angel baby.  If I had known she was going to Heaven instead of her nursery, I wouldn't have taken such pains to prepare of her arrival.  I wouldn't have planned everything from her coming home outfit, to the packs of diapers on the changing table, to the car seat in the car for weeks before delivery...I would have bought that beautiful white Christening gown she was buried in, and visited the memorial people to pick out a headstone...but that's just NOT what you do when you're preparing for a baby!

It's this blind belief that all was going to be well in our little world that I fear now.  I fear it because I was so incredibly blindsided.  I still can't believe sometimes when I look back on everything that this is real.  I can't believe it all really happened.  I can't believe our sweet little Caroline passed away before she took her first breath.  It's all still so surreal.  But, it is reality.  It did happen.  Our beautiful girl, passed from the safety of my womb to Jesus' arms.  That is what really happened.

I am progressing through this pregnancy with Caroline's little sister with all of this behind me.  I go through each day with her, with the knowledge of all that we've lived through.  I am beyond blessed to be here.  Our family has been so incredibly loved and cared for since we lost our beautiful little girl.  And I am incredibly thankful that God blessed us with Caroline's little sister (and so quickly).  This pregnancy has had some bumps in the road.  We have had a couple of scares, but she seems to be growing into a beautiful and healthy little girl.  I am now right about 2 weeks away from delivering Ms. Addalee into the world.  Lord willing, she'll be alive and healthy.  I truly believe she will be, but I know all to well that you can make it to the end of a healthy pregnancy with a healthy baby and not get a healthy baby to take home.  So, I'm asking for prayers as we go through these next 2 weeks or so.  Prayers for Addalee's health and safety, prayers for our family's peace and sanity, and prayers for a healthy delivery of a live and happy little girl.

Again, I hope that my words haven't offended anyone.  I assure you, that was never my intention.  So, if I have offended, I truly do apologize!

Retirement and 9 months

Yeah...so, I retired from my job.  Sounds silly, I know, but I did.  My dad and I are actually retiring together!  Crazy!!!!  It feels really strange to not have a job anymore.  I mean, you go to school, you get a job, and you work...until you're older.  (I don't mean like an elderly person, but older than 30, typically)  Basically, the situation of our lives led us to consider my retirement.  When I was pregnant with Caroline, there was no question that I was going back to work after she was born.  I was going to take a respectable 3 months off and begrudgingly go back to work.  Well, things didn't go according to plan.  I think I ended up having to take about a month off.  I don't know if I really had any business going back even then, but I figured I had to do something...make some kind of move.  And so I worked, but I never found my place again.  I felt like everyone was playing from a different sheet of music than I was.  I had lost my stride.  I lost my spark...I lost a part of my heart. 

There were so many days that I would just break down, right there at my desk.  I'd face the wall in hopes that no one would notice, but I'm sure people did.  I'm sure they could even hear me sometimes.  Grief is so heavy, and I struggled to carry it while pretending to be okay and able to handle the responsibilities of my job.  Granted, the people I worked with and for were gracious and sweet...but it was still difficult for me.

Then we got pregnant with little Addalee.  That was a bit of a shock...to everyone!  Having her in our lives is an absolute blessing straight from God, I never want to discount that.  But, the stress of a new pregnancy and trying to work...I was really struggling.  I couldn't handle anything!  I got choked up in meetings!!!  It was not fun.  Eventually, my pelvic condition landed me working from home most days, and that helped me out tremendously.  But, the more we thought about the future, and tried to envision being parents to a baby at home with us, we realized how much it meant to us for me to stay home.  So, they prayer and considerations began.  There were days where I was gung-ho, and days that I was NEVER leaving my job...the financial security was a very big deal!  Finally, I felt the gentle guidance of the Lord telling me that I needed to leave.  And while I have peace about it, it's still so scary!  I mean, leaving a job in this economy! 

If I'm honest, part of my fear is that I'm somehow being presumptuous about Addalee's safe (and live) arrival.  It's kind of like counting your chickens before they hatch.  I realize that this probably makes me sound like a nutjob, and that's fine by me.  I also feel that way about buying diapers, hanging her initials on the wall above her crib (the one bought and set up for her big sister, Caroline).  I feel like I should wait for the other shoe to drop even as Addalee kicks me (HARD) as I type this.  I feel like I shouldn't get too excited.  I shouldn't feel too comfortable.  I should expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised (if) when it doesn't happen.  As a side note, I realize how crazy this sounds...I'm just being completely honest here.  I know that it's not "normal" to feel this way about the upcoming (only 7 more weeks!) birth of your child.  I truly do have hope, but I'm scared to get comfortable in it.

I wish I could face the world and say that I feel great, all the time about this pregnancy and its outcome.  I wish I could say that my prayers for Addalee's arrival didn't include the word "alive" or that I don't ask God to give Caroline the message that we love her and miss her. But, I simply cannot.  You see, losing Caroline has shaken me...to my very core.  This whole thing has been a complete life changer.  It has touched each area of my life in one way or another.  Caroline affected me, and I'm so thankful for her.  But the loss affected me too...and it left me timid, afraid...broken.  Yes, I'm functioning.  Yes, I am blessed.  I realize this, and do not want to seem ungrateful.  But, there will always be a part of me missing.

I was talking to Addie in my belly the other day, and absent-mindedly called her Caroline.  I don't know why I'm sharing this, because it's somehow embarrassing to me.  I guess I shouldn't be embarrassed because people with more than one living child get the names messed up occasionally...heck, I've even called my husband by the dog's name before!!! :)  But I felt bad when I made this slip up.  I felt more than bad.  I felt guilty to each of the girls for different reasons.  It felt like a betrayal to each of them.

I've been kind of hiding out because of all that's been going on in life.  As I said, I don't handle stress very well these days, and it's kind of making me clam up - I know you can't tell by reading this rambling post...but it feels good to get some of this out there!  But it's been 9 months now since we lost Caroline.  And it's gotten easier to carry the grief, but it's still noticeably there, each and every day.  I miss that girl.  I miss her soft cheeks.  I miss her long fingers.  I miss her.  We had a whole life planned with her, and now I have a whole life planned to remember her.  I'm so excited that I do get to see her again...I can't imagine living without that sweet promise.  Thank you, Lord!

So, little Caroline, we still think of you all the time.  Me and your Daddy talk about you each and every day.  I even still sleep with that little pink and white blanket of yours.  You're always and forever our sweet girl.  And we sure do miss you!

Keeping Busy

Well, Caroline's little sister and I are now into the third trimester!  We're excited to be this far along, but it's scary.  The closer we get to what's considered "full term," the more scared I am that something horrible could happen.  I have a lot of faith that everything is currently okay and going to be okay with this little girl, but it's just so scary.  Fears have a way of running away with you sometimes.  So, one thing that I've been trying to do is just keep myself busy - not let my mind have too much time to over think everything.

With the 4th of July coming up, I've been thinking a lot of how things used to be.  The 4th used to be a big "to-do" in our family.  My parents live on the lake and we'd have the WHOLE family come over and we'd enjoy the lake and boats and swimming and food...and then, we'd take out the boats to see the town's firework show.  (For those of you who haven't ever seen fireworks from the water, you should, it's awesome!)  This used to be something I looked forward to all year long.  I liked 4th of July better than Christmas!  I mean, you can't swim and boat on Christmas (not where I live anyway)!  Things have changed so much over these last few years though...we've grown up, cousins have their own families and their own plans, some have passed away, some have grown away.  But, it's changed even more for me...last year, I was so hopeful about Caroline being here for her first 4th of July this year.  It was going to be so great!  She's not here though, and therefore, things aren't as I pictured.  I don't want to focus on the negative, because we've got so much promise with Caroline's little sister, but there is certainly some sadness.  So...instead of just being mopey and crappy to be around, I've decided to keep busy in the upcoming days and focus on all the positivity I can.

One way I've been keeping busy is cooking and baking.  My mom asked me if I would bring a desert for our little family's cookout/lake day...and I jumped at the chance!  Something to keep me busy!  So, I made something we call Dreamy Squares.  I thought I'd share the recipe here with you...it's worth making...soooooo good!

Dreamy Squares

Ingredients:

*  1.5 c self-rising flour

*  1 c chopped pecans

*  3/4 c melted butter

*  1 8oz pkg softened cream cheese

*  1 c sifted powdered sugar

*  12 oz Cool Whip

*  Fruit of your choice

I started out with these beauties:

There's nothing like some sweet strawberries (probably my favorite fruit)

I washed them, and then washed them, and then washed them again.  And then capped and sliced them.  Then set aside until the recipe was ready for them.

Go ahead and preheat your oven to 325 degrees.

In a medium bowl, mix butter and flour until combined - it's kind of a sandy texture (I wish I'd taken a picture of this part).  Once combined, stir in 1/2 cup of the chopped pecans.  Then press mixture into the bottom of a 9X13 baking dish.  Bake for 12 - 15 minutes.

 

While crust is baking, mix cream cheese and sifted sugar until smooth.  Then fold in about 1 cup of the Cool Whip.

Spread mixture over warm (NOT HOT) crust

Just so you know, this all goes better if you have someone like this to help you! :)

 Spoon your fruit over the cream cheese layer.

Cover with remaining Cool Whip and sprinkle with remaining pecans.

Refrigerate, and eat up! :)

Then clean up your dog's Cool Whip face...he's a good helper, I told you!

Here's a recipe card for you to print to make this quick, easy, and oh so yummy treat:

(click for bigger card)

Happy 4th of July everyone!!!

8 Months

It's been 8 months since we held our little Caroline.  I've been fortunate enough to be able to push a lot of these thoughts to the back of my mind instead of focusing on them and getting down in the dumps.  This strategy worked fairly well for me...until this week.  This week, my "keep yourself so busy you can't be bothered with grief" strategy has failed!  I don't mean to be overly dramatic, it's not like I've hit rock bottom or anything, but I have had a rough few days.

As we're getting closer to the third trimester (Friday!) with Addalee, I'm reminded of my pregnancy with Caroline.  I'm reminded how much I miss her, how much I want HER...and how much I want her sister to be here safely and healthily.  I'm also a little torn on how to prepare for the arrival of Caroline's little sister.  With Caroline, I bought packs of diapers (can't bring myself to do that this time), I washed and folded all of her things (haven't been able to think of that this time), I worked in her room (don't really need to do much since it's all set up from before)...it's just a strange feeling, a strange place to be, uncomfortable.

I've been keeping a weekly blog of my pregnancy with Addalee (side note: it's private, but if you'd like to follow along, just comment and leave me your email address).  I like to include a weekly size comparison picture, you know the rutabaga or English hot house cucumber comparison.  So, each week, I Google my week and the comparison picture.  This week, I happened to stumble upon another little pregnancy blog.  It was cute and happy and was written much like my blog, like how I write, like how I think.  Then I noticed the dates...with a sick stomach and sweaty hands, I kept looking.  I knew I shouldn't. I  knew I should have stopped.  But that morbid curiosity just drew me in.  This lady's little girl was delivered the day after Caroline.  She is a beautiful little girl, her parents' first child, loved immeasurably.  They have regularly posted pictures of their sweet little girl, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Sunday, Tuesday...you get the idea.  The ones that got me the most were Halloween, and the most recent ones.  Caroline's Daddy is a big kid - one of the things I love about him.  He loves Halloween, and so do I.  We bought this adorable little bat costume for Caroline and were so excited to answer the door to the trick-or-treaters with our little baby bat.  We had plans for Halloween.  She was part of them.  We could SEE her in that costume.  But that wasn't to be.  Then I saw this couple's precious little girl sitting up, widely and toothlessly grinning, on a swimming pool step.  Then it really struck me, Caroline should be grinning, and sitting up and having a real personality and being a real child.  I've held on to the image of her as a teeny tiny baby, and distanced myself from the thoughts of her as an actual BABY.  Part of this was a survival mechanism, I'm sure...but upon realizing what I have been doing, I am crushed.  Crushed because that mechanism is gone now, and crushed because I feel like I may have cheated Caroline somehow.

I don't want to seem all gloom and doom, or like Debbie Downer (bwwaahh bwaahhh), so I need to share that things are actually going well for us.  As I said before, we are this.close to the start of the third trimester, and I'm overjoyed about this.  Addalee is an active girl, who loves to kick her Mommy and even share some private kicks with her Daddy while Mommy is sleeping!  She has her own personality, different from her big sister, and we wouldn't have it any other way.  Addalee also seems to have quite the resemblance to her sister, their ultrasounds are almost identical!  We're praying, and ask that you do too, for a little girl, alive and healthy, to be in our arms in approximately 10 weeks.

Memorial Day Weekend

I need to do better about updating this blog.  I find that I have so much to say, so many thoughts, but I don't get them put into words on here.  I think it's partly because there is so much that I feel like I need to get off my chest that it just overwhelms me.

This last weekend was Memorial Day weekend.  In the past, this weekend has signified the start of summer, and been the first official lake day...a day that I greatly looked forward to.  It has been a day that my family gets together, takes out the boat, spends time and cooks out...simple joys.  That has changed now.  The cemetery where Caroline is buried has their decoration on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend.  It's a family cemetery and it's only Caroline and her great-grandfather (a WWII veteran) buried there...and we get together, spend the day, and eat a meal...simple joys, with a little sadness. I'm so thankful though to be surrounded by a family (both sides) who love me and us and little Caroline.  Her little grave was decorated with so many flowers, it was very sweet.

I'm finding though, that I really dread all milestone dates.  I wanted to skip Thanksgiving and Christmas last year...I would have been fine to nix Mother's Day altogether, and I was really dreading Memorial Day too.  I dread those days because they're so difficult for me.  I dread them because it takes me multiple days to recover.  I almost feel as though I've been in a fight after, even physically sore.  Who knew grief could be that physically painful!?  But it is, it runs me through the ringer more days than not.

I'm dealing with a whole lot of big emotions - what's new!?  I honestly don't even know how to share them sometimes, and actually right now, I could just cry.  I know that some of this comes with being pregnant again.  Pregnancy all by itself is crazy when it comes to emotions, so pregnancy plus grief...it only stands to reason that it's a roller coaster.  I think that right now, what I'm feeling most is bitterness and jealousy.  I'm so jealous of all the people who have such an easy time having babies!  I'm so bitter that they've all gotten to do it, and I haven't (yet).  I'm not only jealous and bitter for myself, but for my husband, for my parents, for his parents.  They were all crushed through the loss of Caroline too.  In some ways, it would be so much better if I had felt this all by myself, though that would have been painful too.  At least I would know that those I cherish most aren't hurting as badly as I am.

Then there's actual anger.  I've done pretty well with not being angry throughout this experience.  I'm not angry at God.  I've come to a place in my relationship with Him where I feel comforted and been given peace.  I'm angry at people...well-meaning, but hurtful people.  There are people giving me birth advice...like I guess they think that Caroline just "tele-ported" out of my womb.  Yeah, uh....not so much...I labored, I pushed, I gave birth, just like every other mother with a live child.  Also, don't be scared of ___________ - things that can happen during birth.  My answer is that I'm not scared of birth, any of it...my fear is getting a live baby TO birth.  If they need to do a c-section on me, so be it.  I just need to get this baby to her birth living, and then I have complete faith that the doctors will do what is best for us.  I guess I want to tell them that I don't really feel like I need advice on these kinds of things.  I appreciate that they care, but this is maddening for me.  Vent over.

Really, things are going well for us.  Addalee is a healthy and beautiful little girl, who kicks the doppler because she also has a personality!  She's a blessing, and I believe that her big sister is proud of her already.  We sure do miss big sister, and can't wait until our family is all reunited one day!

The Day After Mother's Day

I'm feeling very happy to have Mother's Day behind me.  It was a day that I was dreading quite a lot for a little while.  I went back and forth wondering if it was going to be as bad as I imagined it could be.  As it turns out, what I had made up in my head was worse than the actual day.  That doesn't mean that it wasn't really tough, but it means that I wasn't reduced to a puddle of tears all day.

I was very blessed to have so many wonderful people around me, praying for me, loving me, and supporting me. Also, my family was very understanding and sweet.  I originally told anyone that would listen that I wanted to skip the day altogether.  No one really had any problem with that.  I started thinking that I needed to do something special for the moms and grandmothers in my family.  When I first started thinking of Mother's Day, I didn't think I'd be able to do ANYTHING.  I was able to make my mom and Arthur's mom a memory box to keep their special things to remind them of baby Caroline.  I was able to make them copies of her hand and foot prints given to us from the hospital, and all the other little precious keepsakes they sent us from the hospital.  I had the delivery pictures printed for them as well, and gave them each one of the gifts that they had given us for Caroline.  My mom got Caroline's first pair of shoes (an adorable little set of pink dress shoes), and Arthur's mom got a sweet little bib that said "Thank Heaven for Little Babies."  I hope that they'll treasure these things, and know they will. 

I was able to pick out a card for my mom, but I had to abort that mission after I found hers because it was simply just too overwhelming, and I didn't want to lose my mind in Target.  (Did you know that they have "Happy First Mother's Day" cards?  I do...now)  Thankfully, Arthur was able to find a really nice card for his mom and spare me from having to try again.  I had even really planned to send a little card to my BLM friends that I've met along this journey, but lost my motivation when it was just so hard to look at those cards!

We actually had a special weekend together.  Arthur was so good to me, and we really enjoyed each other's company.  We hit the bookstore on Friday evening, and got a couple of good books (a new devotional, and a book about surviving the death of a child), and he even let me go to Hobby Lobby (he really knows the way to my heart)!  Saturday we went to yard sales, they're just so much fun!  From the yard sales, we went to an antique fair.  It was so much fun!  By the time we got home, we were both exhausted, but it was so nice.  Sunday, we got up leisurely.  Normally, we'd have gone to church, but I knew they'd be doing the special Mother's Day service, so I just couldn't muster the courage.  But Arthur made us breakfast, and we spent the day just being together.  We talked about Caroline a good bit.  There were tears.  There was laughter.  We tried to remember Caroline and think of our new little blessing, Addalee (name meaning story below).  Arthur gave me the sweetest card, I didn't know a card like that even existed.  It said something along the lines of this being a tough time, but that I'm a mother, etc. And he told me how proud he was of me...melted my heart.  When the day was over, I was glad though.  It was nice to lay down my head and know that another milestone is behind me.  I just pray that next Mother's Day will be different.

I spent time in prayer leading up to, and during the day yesterday for all of those that I've met who would be experiencing Mother's Day without their precious child(ren).  I wish that this wasn't a reality for anyone.  I wish that life was neat and easy.  But it's not.  So, I hope that each of you who've had to weather Mother's Day with heavy hearts (because of the loss of their babies, or even their own mothers, or grandmothers), were able to experience some peace.

As promised, Addalee's name story/meaning:  Being in the midst of a subsequent pregnancy is quite the roller coaster of emotion.  Some days just sail on by, while others, we're stricken with fear...fear that something could be wrong, something could happen, she won't come home with us either...  We have been diligently trying to find a name for this little girl since we found out she was a "she."  We had several names on the table, and none that we were just settled on.  Arthur came up with Addalee, and we just liked it, still nothing was final.  Arthur looked up the meaning of the name and found that it meant "God is our refuge."  I was almost decided.  Then, a couple of days later, we ran into a hard day, emotionally.  Arthur prayed that God would give us a sign that everything was okay and everything was going to be okay with this little girl.  He then went on the Internet to a random verse generator, Psalm 46:1 came up - God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  And the rest is history!  So, we're expecting little Addalee Elizabeth (after her big sister), late August - early September!  Please keep us in your prayers.