Lent

If there has been any sort of trend in my life since Will's death...

it has been the fluctuation of time.

It either goes by in a blur and suddenly much time has passed,

or it drags by.

Lately, it has been like I go to bed and when I wake up...the week is over.

This is a very good thing right now.

I have reached a point where I am trying very hard

to not let being pregnant and the timing of the week I am in,

control my thoughts and actions.

But it isn't that easy.

16 weeks.

At this time with Will, we were moving from CA to MI. And I felt great.

At 17 weeks, things began to go horribly wrong...

and at 18 weeks my water broke and I found myself in the hospital being told my baby would die...which didn't happen until much later and we all know that story.

So...

Its been difficult not to worry.

Which brings me to my thought of the day.

What to give up for lent?

This crossed my mind at the grocery store today,

as I shopped for healthy (low carb-low fat-low processed-low fun) food.

Then I thought, "screw it..." and threw a bag of Easter blow pop suckers into my cart.

I could see how this was going to go.

Everyone seems to give up something food related:

pop, candy, junk food...

but I kind of gave most of that stuff up a really long time ago.

Then I considered giving up lots of different things,

that really weren't realistic: eating out, occasional swearing, the McDonald's drive-thru...

After thinking about each of these, my immediate response was, "Yeah, right."

So, then I came to my idea of letting go or giving up worrying.

It can be done,

and it will be a challenge.

But an even bigger challenge?

How does one even know if they are not worrying...

Sigh.

All I can say is that Easter better hurry up and get here.

Yay for February...

When I woke up yesterday morning and realized it was no longer January...

I was thrilled.

But today,

its snowing...gross.

This is the time of year, when I am not thrilled to see snow ~ but disgusted.

When we lived in SoCal, January didn't hold the same contempt

as it does now...because honestly, it felt the same as any other of the 11 months out there.

Sunny and perfect.

Groundhog's day...

the term Tim & I referred to explain how every single day felt and looked the same,

to someone who is from the frozen tundra like us.

But now?

I can't stand January.

So I am super glad its February...a short month too.

I am looking at the passing of months as a big deal right now.

In March we have our 3-D ultrasound with Dr. Risky.

And in April the baby is viable.

Which is something I was blissfully unaware of until Will.

In May...it will be warmer...

followed by June.

And my goal is July.

The official due date is Aug. 5th,

however, since I have to have a c-section...

the latest I will be pregnant is until 38 weeks.

I've already done the math,

Will's anniversary days fall real close.

So that is a possibility.

We'll worry about that later.

Until then, I am focusing on February.

Next week, Tim is flying to Jersey for work.

He is nervous to leave me, yet I am quick to remind him that 4 days hardly compares to 2 deployment tours that lasted between 6 and 7 months.

Perspective...hello.

And even when I was in the hospital with Will,

he was forced to go for nearly 2 weeks.

I could have gone into labor any time,

yet they made him go for work.

Looking back, I don't know how we made it through without completely flipping out.

So I guess I can handle a little snow right now...

it makes laying low even easier.

Who wants to go out in the nasty cold and slush?

Not me.

So until winter truly begins to thaw,

I will eat and take naps...and say a prayer of thanks for each uneventful day.

emotions

This is the last week of my 1st trimester.

With each week that passes, I have a mix of emotions.

On one hand, I am relieved...

at the same time even more terrified.

One more week of invested time...

one more week for this baby to grow bigger.

This time of year, also reminds me of the timing of Will's pregnancy.

And even after those milestone weeks pass,

it won't bring comfort.

I know too many stories...

and that is a constant reminder that there is never a "safe" point in having a baby.

I have let myself begin to imagine just what it must feel like to actually bring a baby home.

To have a c-section and then hear crying...

instead of a doctor's voice telling me it doesn't look good.

What does that feel like?

All I know is pain.

It hampers my heart in feeling joy.

What does it feel like to be wheeled into recovery with your arms full...instead of empty?

I want to know that joy...

but my reservations prevent me from hoping for something that huge.

Its happened once already,

will God keep it from happening again?

I am not brave enough to face these questions alone...

so I pray constantly.

In losing Will, I also lost countless friends.

They were unable to share in my grief.

So I am even more grateful for the strong ones,

that haven't been afraid of me...

Haven't been afraid to see the tears and the hurt...

haven't been afraid to be a friend when I couldn't be one in return.

And its those friends that understand me even now...

They understand that while I am thankful for this baby,

I am also terrified.

And they get that,

they understand why and don't try to reason me out of it.

Someone told me everything would be "fine" the other day.

I kept my mouth shut,

while secretly in my head I pictured jumping over the table between us and slapping them.

My reason?

Obviously they needed a slap from reality...

and last time I checked,

none of us has a crystal ball.

I tend to stay away from well wishes like that (and the people that utter them).

Because they don't help.

Instead, I feel crazy for doubting...

when I need to feel comforted instead.

I know these emotions are justified,

because any person that could have been in that room with us...

on a hot Saturday night in July....as we lived an entire lifetime with our baby in just a few short hours, and then handed him to a nurse...

never to see him again on this earth...

would understand if they truly tried to.

If they dared to...

And its the people that put themselves there.

That allow themselves to feel our pain...

and live their lives better because they know what we have been through,

by cherishing each day with their kids,

and knowing how lucky they are to be pregnant...

and not taking any of it for granted...

the holding and cuddling,

watching their child grow...

the bedtime stories and baths...

everything that I miss doing each day...

Its those people, that give me the hope and strength to wish

and hope

and believe...

that in the end,

its all going to be worth it.

Because they have shared in our sorrow,

and now are eager to share in our joy.

Seeing things...

Today was my 4th doctor's visit.

On Friday I had my 3rd ultrasound.

I am thankful to say that everything looks good,

and the spotting that happened over a week ago was minimal and has gone away.

Let's hope for good...

we don't need any more of that crap.

At my ultrasound, they were very thorough.

Of course, since this always happens to me,

there was a doctor in training.

I can say that I am patient about things like that,

especially with being a teacher...

but when they are doing an internal ultrasound and moving that thing all over I was about ready to punch someone...

then I saw the baby on the screen.

What a mover!

In a mere 10 days it went from looking like a gummy bear,

to what you see now.

A miracle.

So I momentarily forgot about being tortured,

and focused on the screen.

With each kick, I fell in love.

With each kick I also thought I saw something...

Without taking my eyes off the screen,

I said to the doctor,

"So I know its totally too early to tell what sex the baby is...but, uh...well, I think I am seeing something every time it moves."

The doctor laughed and said,

"Oh, you noticed that? I saw it too."

There was a lump in my throat...

"Are you telling me you think its a freaking boy?!?"

He got serious again...

"Yes, that is what I am thinking. Let me know if that is how it turns out. In all my years I have never seen anything this early on a 10 week ultrasound."

I didn't know whether to be proud or mortified.

Once out of the office, I called Tim.

He just laughed...

"Did you tell them you were married to a Marine?"

Now I love my husband, 

but this is just a typical comment that I would normally never repeat to anyone else.

Seriously.

But he does still make me laugh...

We'll find out for sure just who is in there at my 18 week ultrasound

at Dr. Risky's office.

Until then, we have a preview.

Regardless, I am thrilled no matter what the sex is.

I just want a healthy baby, and a healthy pregnancy.

We have started discussing names,

this is a challenge.

But for right now, we have plenty of nicknames:)

New Year...new hope

Time is still getting away from me.

I have to keep writing,

things are going so fast and I want to remember this time.

Our New Years Eve was uneventful.

We had a dinner out with my family,

where I stuffed my face with various crappy foods

that I shouldn't be eating.

(Why does everything have to be fried here?!)

Then paid for it later when I couldn't stay awake

at our friends NYE party and had to go home at 10:00.

I'm such a loser.

My time has been spent battling sickness,

severe fatigue...

and hunger pains that come on so strongly that I would willingly take out any poor soul that got between me and whatever food I had to have at that exact moment.

Tim has learned from Will's pregnancy,

not to question my cravings.

He has been wonderful.

And despite being stuck in bed a lot of the time,

I cherish this feeling...

because I know its a good sign.

And so we have survived our first week back to the "grind."

I have taken it easy after having a scare last Sunday.

Its strange how everything with Will has changed me.

Many of these changes are just coming to light.

On Sunday, when my worst fear happened...

I took a step back,

realized that I was doing everything in my power for this baby...

and simply let go.

I am not controlling this,

I am doing my best,

and giving the rest to God.

And to be honest, I am relieved.

The rest of the week went smoothly.

And tomorrow I have yet another appointment with my regular doctor.

They will also do another ultrasound due to the circumstances of earlier this week.

But I am calm,

and taking one day at a time.

That is the only way I know how to live anymore,

and that is fine with me.

Happy 8th Anniversary

Eight whole years.
Tim asked if I was shocked that we made it 8 years...
or if I was more shocked at how quickly the 8 years went...
and my reply was "both."

He knows I am joking.
And I am.
Despite all that we have done,
all that we have been through...
my marriage is a blessing from God.
And I love my husband more today,
than I did 8 years ago.

Today he took the day off from work (a HUGE deal if you know his work ethic!)
and we spent the day going to the high risk Dr.
Let's just give them the code name, Dr. Risky...
there is a whole team of them,
and they are awesome...
but to keep everyone straight~that is what I will call them.

I also have a regular OB/GYN
whom I will see on a regular basis.
I did not have her with Will,
I had the Dr. Risky team.
They rock.
And walking into that office, with good news this time,
was uplifting.
I know I will be taken care of.

So today when we went,
I got the red carpet treatment in the ultra sound room.
The tech and I had a coffee the month after Will died,
and I adore her.
She was so excited, she popped a disk into their new machine
and got tons of pictures.
Even better...she busted out the 3D equipment
and just went crazy.

But, I am measuring smaller than I had figured.
So, they laughed when I groaned loudly at only being 8 weeks and 4 days.
I'm glad they think its funny...
I don't!
The double digits is a big deal,
and I would have kept my mouth shut for a bit longer.
But then again, what good would it do to keep it a secret anyways?

If anything happens, the world will know about it...
who am I trying to kid?
And besides, I have been sick for what seems like forever,
not complaining (its a huge blessing)
but I guess each day that passes is a small victory for me.
Not sure I could really hide it much longer,
my pale nauseating face pretty much gives it away:)

So, the 3D pictures were slightly funny.
Just a blob that looked like a little gummy bear with bumps where the arms and legs will be.
It almost freaks me out when I see it like that,
makes you realize just what a miracle the entire process is.

Then we heard the heartbeat.
That got me right in the gut,
and for a moment...
I was back in my hospital room, with Will on the monitor.
The nurses would hook me up twice a day for nearly 30 min. or longer,
and his steady heartbeat would put me right to sleep...
that is, if he wasn't hiccuping loudly.
There is just something about hearing that little heart beat,
it chokes me up.

And it makes this whole situation not blissful or thrilling...
but very scary.
Hearing the heartbeat
brings all sorts of painful memories that no one really knows about.
It should be a happy thing,
but going down this road again is another test of faith.

After we had a chat with Dr. Risky,
some various things were discussed.
There is no rhyme or reason why Will's water broke.
They don't know why,
there is nothing that I did or didn't do.
So we will sit tight and let this pregnancy progress.
At least I feel like there is a plan in place,
but this is where I am glad that I have so many people praying for us.

That is the one thing,
I know I can believe in...the power of prayer.

Merry Christmas

After years of...

standing in long security lines,

missing flights,

running through airports

and all the other things that happened

which nearly caused me to have a nervous breakdown

trying to get home for Christmas...

I am waking up in my own home,

in my own bed,

and my family is visiting us today.

Awesome.

Truly a Merry Christmas.

Especially with the way I have been feeling for the past few weeks:)

And while we are still missing Will beyond words right now,

this year is more tolerable.

Maybe because we have found hope again...

Maybe because there is a chance we will have truly Merry Christmases in the future.

Maybe because next year, there might actually be a baby here to hug:)

Merry Christmas...

And thank you to all of you who have continually prayed for this.