I’m feeling like a mom again.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks that have flown by in a blur and yet lumbered sluggishly hour by hour. The first week was spent mostly in bed, watching the trees outside my window and listening to the activity happening around my house. The second week was a chance to push myself, getting out as much as I could and building up my stamina. In all that time I have had a small army around me to help our family continue to run smoothly. Tim has been off work and has shouldered the brunt of the household duties and child care.

And while I absolutely needed that to happen, it did put me out of the loop with my kids. They learned quickly to rely on daddy these past two weeks, but I’m picking up more responsibilities in taking care of them again. I’m changing a few diapers when I can chase Baby E down. I’m fixing breakfast and running some laundry. I’m helping to tuck them into bed. I tire easily, but I’m grateful to be up and about.

I’m really hoping the surgeon clears me for lifting on Tuesday, even though they initially said 4-6 weeks. I miss holding my baby boy.

This girl had an American Heritage Girl fundraiser this morning, so we went to a local restaurant for a pancake breakfast. The food was delicious and C was excited to be helping out her troop.

But the absolute highlight of her day was losing her first tooth! She kept saying, “I can’t believe I lost my tooth!!!” (In other news she also lost her toenail. Yup, the one she dropped a brick on in the beginning of August. That took long enough.) I asked her if she was expecting to lose any other body parts this evening and she informed me she thought she was done. 🙂 Let’s hope so!

The Tooth Fairy isn’t real, she said as she glanced at me looking for confirmation. She has had a loose tooth for about a month now, but this evening it really started to wiggle. It started bleeding, and instead of freaking out, as I expected her to, she just smiled and ran over to her daddy to get a wet paper towel. The adult tooth is coming in behind it, so it is only a matter of time before the baby one falls out. I’m hoping it happens this weekend.

It’s the parents that are the Tooth Fairy, she confidently announced in front of the neighbor children and I had to take her aside and remind her that there are some children that believe in the Tooth Fairy and it isn’t our place to tell them she isn’t real.

I’m not sure what the going rate for teeth is these days, but I have a dollar that I’ve been saving in my wallet since she first mentioned her loose tooth weeks ago. So if you see my girl in the next few weeks and she has a gap in her grin, take a moment to tell her how different and grown up she looks, I am sure you will get a great, big smile! 🙂

Most of my days aren’t sad anymore. There are moments, but each day is getting better. I still tire very easily, and I wonder what it will be like when I go back to work. There are moments when I forget that I’m not pregnant, I’ll see some baby product online and click on it to learn more, only to realize that I don’t need it. I feel pains in my abdomen and for a brief moment wonder if it’s the baby, but then I remember that it can’t be. And yes those moments are sad, but they aren’t constant and they aren’t overwhelming.

We’ve gotten letters in the mail, kind messages, and emails, meals and snacks, and many words of encouragement that I truly believe have helped the healing process along faster than it would have otherwise been. Thank you!

I’d never passed out before. I’d seen it depicted in movies, the way that the sound would go distant and the visuals would go blurry, and the image would fade to black. But I’d never experienced it before that day in the hospital.

We had been there for at least an hour. The pain was intense. In a flurry they were putting in the IV and drawing blood for testing. My heart started to race and I could feel myself get clammy. I could hear Tim and the nurse talking, but their voices got further away and harder to hear. I tried to fight it until Tim told me to just give in, so I did. The sound got more distant and my vision became like going through a tunnel in reverse, the bright light getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared. I was probably only out for a few seconds, but as I came to the process reversed. Such a strange experience.

I’m in a limbo right now, angry that my body betrayed me and thankful that my body held up. As the scars on my stomach heal, they remind me of my c-section scar, in all the ways they differ. I never hated that scar, the evidence of the journey that brought me my children, but these scars are different. They tell the story of how my child died. And I hate them for it.

I went clothes shopping today, thinking that somehow this would be a lighthearted adventure to get my mind off of things, but as I stood in the dressing room scorning each new thing I tried on, I hated my body again for its continued betrayal.

I arrived home this afternoon only to have the doctor call me to inform me that I’m severely anemic right now, and we need to work hard to get it under control. Apparently when you lose a pint of blood from internal bleeding, that should be expected. But I cried. My body had failed me again.

Even without trauma, we women have a tenuous relationship with our bodies. From an early age we are taught society’s ideals and we learn quickly that we will never live up to them. How many women starve themselves or push their bodies beyond reason in the vain attempt to vindicate their self worth in their appearance? It’s the trap we sometimes fall into, even when we recognize we are doing it. And for a brief time today I lost that battle. I felt defeated, but the truth is my worth isn’t in the way I look, not even a little. My worth, your worth, is so much more.

My worth is not reflected in my scars. My worth is reflected in the scars of someone else. My worth is reflected in the scars of God’s only Son, who while hanging on a cross, pleaded with His father to spare me (and you.) My worth isn’t in the many ways I may try to earn my place by His side, but that I am loved enough for Him to earn that place for me. And in that, I can find such incredible joy!

Please don’t worry, I know the sadness and frustration I felt today is a normal part of the healing and grieving process. I know my body went through a lot and I am still deep in the trenches of recovery- my scars aren’t even scars yet and my body is still mending from the ordeal. I’m not looking for pity, just sharing my thoughts. 

As the rest of the country waits with baited breath to learn the outcome of this messy, ugly, unfortunate election cycle, I spent the evening with my mama. She came today and will be here for a few days. The kids love having their Naona here and so do I. We had dinner and watched a movie and just relaxed. It is so rare that we have company, but I am enjoying every moment. It doesn’t matter how old you get, nothing is better than your mom telling you everything is going to be alright!

Historically this has been my least favorite day of the year… the first workday after the autumn time change. I credit my distaste for this day due to the suddenly dark evening commutes. It always takes a couple of weeks for people to settle into the new routine, but in the meantime, my evenings are usually pretty rough.

But today I didn’t commute and that was a nice change.

I spent this afternoon with friends… Our time together did the trick of wiping the cobwebs away and reminding me that life carries on outside these four walls. By the time I got home, my dear, sweet husband had put up a Christmas tree in our window. I am typically against unusually early Christmas decorating, but this year I am going to embrace it. This year, I think we need it.

Thank you for your continued prayers. I’m starting be able to be on my feet for longer amounts of time and I am attempting some solo adventures. I still get worn out pretty quick, but I’m pacing myself and being careful not to overdo it. Thanks again!

We told C last night about the baby. We had been debating about it all week, but we know she’s a smart girl and we figured she might read into the context clues. We didn’t want her to find out from someone else. So last night we sat her down and explained it to her. She seemed sad at first, but then she promptly drifted off to sleep.

This evening I reopened the conversation because I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t bottling any emotion or confusion.

She said she was sad, but happy that she still had me. And then she leaned into me and whispered in my ear, “Sometimes, Mommy, I think that you are more important to me than I am.”

Oh my dear, sweet girl, I feel that way about you daily. 

I did not expect such a selfless confession from my little girl. Her heart and her capacity for love never cease to amaze me.

Somehow two years flew by, and my dear sweet Baby E turned 2 today. Don’t listen to him though, because he vehemently denied it all day long, but we know better. He came around this evening when he realized there was cake involved with birthdays and I think we have successfully gotten him onto the birthday bandwagon.

Happy Birthday to my dear, sweet Baby E!!

90% of ectopic (tubal) pregnancies never develop a heartbeat. As I laid on the sonogram table, I heard ours. As they rolled me into the operating room it was likely still beating. But when they were finished, it was gone. That’s the hardest part. Hearing it and knowing that it wasn’t going to last.

Tim and I had nearly a month to fall in love with our baby, and I did- head over heals, butterflies in my tummy, madly in love with that little one.

It’s been a week. I’ve done a lot of sleeping. I’ve done a lot of sitting. I’ve done a lot of replaying events in my mind. I’m not saying that I’m done mourning, because I’m really not, but it’s time I start moving again. I’m going to take it slow, but it’s time.

Tim and I took the kids to the park today. I watched as they climbed nets, swung on the swings, and went down the slides. They laughed and smiled more than they have all week. And it was good.

I know it’s a process. I know not to push myself too hard or too fast. But I also know I would stay in bed for weeks if I let myself. So here we go. Let’s do this.

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted
And saves those who are crushed in spirit. Psalm 34:18

Thank you again for your prayers!

It might as well be midnight… on a Tuesday. My days are running together, a combination of naps, food, and the occasional cheering up from friends and family. I actually didn’t sleep today, mainly because I’ve barely slept the last two nights. I’m so exhausted this evening that it shouldn’t be a problem.

In two days my baby turns two. With everything going on, it keeps slipping my mind. I feel like I’m missing it. It happens so fast, this growing up. He keeps asking about my booboo and in his sweetness will try to tackle me with hugs. He’s starting to worry when I walk out of the room, afraid I will leave him. He keeps saying, “Mommy, no bye-bye.” No buddy, Mommy no bye-bye.

I’ve always said his personality is smack dab between his siblings. He has the independent spirit of his sister mixed with the compassion of his brother. He stresses out when people are sad. This week has been hard for him.

I took a trip out to Starbucks with a friend this afternoon. It was harder than I thought it would be, my anxiety working overtime. But I’ve been down this road before, and I refuse to let it win. So my plan is to embrace the anxious moments and ride them out. I have to retrain my body that everyday situations aren’t cause for alarm. It’s like muscle memory, the more I do it, the easier it will become.

My post is all over the place this evening, but that’s pretty much a reflection of me. I never imagined I’d be this open about this experience as I have been here, but thank you for riding along. I think it helps. I may not have responded to everyone, or my responses may have been brief, but know that I appreciate the kind words, thoughts, and advice that have been coming our way. Thank you.