Crying

Day 283

Until today I hadn't had the quintessential meltdown since my miscarriage. Trenton was a little nervous that I hadn't really cried yet. I shed a few tears before and after the procedure, but nothing since...until today. I was standing in the middle of a very crowded Costco when I spotted a onesie that I had seen once before, while I was still pregnant. I remembered picking it up and admiring the butterflies on it, and the hat that came with it had little antennas. I remembered how excited I was and how I knew the baby was a girl. And then I remembered everything. It was like every thought, and feeling, and emotion came back to me with perfect clarity, all at once...the good, the bad, and the very sad.

I guess the fact of the matter is that this sucks. I wanted that baby. I was excited and welcoming of that baby, and for no reason I'll ever understand, she was taken from me. There are crackheads, and methheads, and teenagers and drunken one-night-stands that didn't want their babies. But I'm going to stop myself before heading down the road of "life isn't fair."

So that's where I stand right now. I've had one meltdown of many to come, I'm sure. And I actually feel a little better.

And researchers are striving to understand why crying does offer such a cathartic release. One study I read today claimed that tears act as a vehicle for releasing stress hormones. "Thus, crying is a natural and essential biological function that results in the elimination of stress hormones connected to every imaginable stress-related health problem." So if you see me crying in the middle of a box superstore, don't worry...I'm just purging harmful hormones and healing.

Janet

Coconut Nests

There are very few items that have been discontinued throughout the years that I miss as much as Russell Stovers green white chocolate coconut nests. They've been replaced with chocolate and cookies and cream flavors- not a speck of coconut in sight.

So I made them myself...


You just add some flaked coconut to melted green tinted white chocolate and shape into little nests. Could they be any more adorable? Forget about adorable...Could they be any more delicious?

Janet

Little Lady

Day 281

On Being the Mother of a Little Girl

A careful woman I ought to be-
a little lady follows me.
I do not dare go astray
for fear she herself will go the same way.
Not once can I escape her eyes:
Whatever she sees me do, she tries.
Like me she says she's going to be,
that little lady who follows me.
I must remember as I go
through summer sun and winter snow...
I'm molding for years to be
that little lady who follows me.

-Author unknown




Janet

Fear

Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You gain strength, courage, and confidence by each experience in which you really stop and look fear in the face. You can say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror, I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do." I completely agree with Mrs. Roosevelt. But if I could just add to this quote and make it a bit more user friendly, it would say something like..."Before stopping and looking fear in the face, be sure that you've fortified yourself with as much emotional, mental, and physical support as possible." Maybe all you need is your spouse, mom, best friend, God, or a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. Whatever it is, I think it's important for us to get out of this mindset that to be brave....to qualify for the title, "Courageous," we must tackle our problems without the need of others, or our Heavenly Father, or medication. I think Eleanor's quote would be complete if it finished with, "You must do the thing you think you cannot do...but nobody ever said you have to do it alone."

New Mother

Day 279

During the short few months of this pregnancy I was afflicted with a nasty case of morning sickness. Odors and scents proved to be the worst offenders. It was so awful that even the smell of my own skin (which doesn't have a smell to the non-pregnant nose) brought on uncontrollable waves of nausea. My skin cracked and dried from the inability to use lotions, my lips bled, and my hair suffered as I used the only soap I could tolerate to wash it with...laundry detergent. My sensitive pallet wouldn't allow drinking water, or artificial sweeteners, or anything citrus. I couldn't open the door of my fridge, or cabinets, or use my guest bathroom, and I most definitely couldn't step foot in a grocery store. Each time I stood up my heart raced, my vision went black, and I had to carry a bucket everywhere I went for fear of vomiting. And each week, almost like clockwork, I developed a migraine headache, knocking me on my back for two days straight.

Terrible as all these symptoms sound, they served as positive signs that I had a pregnancy that was progressing. As each symptom lessens, and I can suddenly tolerate the smell of my strawberry shampoo, and use my cupcake scented lotion, and actually feel a craving for something that once repulsed me, I am reminded that the HCG and progesterone, and estrogen, and all the other life producing hormones are nosediving and I am, in fact, no longer pregnant.

The funny thing about reminders though... for each negative reminder out there in the universe, there are just as many, if not more, positive signs. Like right now- as I'm sitting at my desk, I have a direct view of scattered stuffed animals, half-consumed sippy cups, and a sliding glass door that is full of miniature, sticky, hand prints. Those are all reminders that I have given birth to two gorgeous children, and they are safely here with me. I feel like a new mother. Experiencing all these feelings of loss has made a new, hopefully more devoted, mother. And I guess that's something to thank my Heavenly Father for.

Too Perfect

Day 278

I am finally beginning to see a pattern. Whenever I think or say "I can't go through that." or "I'm not strong enough to deal with something like this." I am given the opportunity to prove myself wrong. You would think I would have learned that little lesson sooner. But if I continue insisting I can't handle certain trials, it seems I'll inevitably be confronted with those trials as a gift of refinement and strengthening. Thankfully, in the midst of one of the hardest weeks of my life, I was able to watch the April 2011 LDS General Conference. It seemed, from my perspective, that a resounding theme throughout the conference this spring was the importance of learning to accept, instead of resent, tribulation as an inescapable reality of our mortal experience. The talks were packed with words of comfort, advice, and reminders that it is impossible for us to grow, or become stronger without resistance. And the additional reminder that we are not expected to navigate these troubled moments without the assured help of God. Another speaker brought hope by insisting that dark times are almost always a sign that even brighter days are in the near future, and the joy we feel will be that much more precious because of those recent struggles. I am so thankful for the inspired words of the general authorities.

It was a week ago today that I found out my baby's little heart was no longer beating. I don't think I'll ever forget how still the image was on the ultrasound, and the look of sadness on my Doctor's face. I will also never forget the words my Doctor whispered in my ear as she hugged me. She told me she loved me and that "the baby was just too perfect to experience the pain of mortality." I had surgery last Tuesday to remove the pregnancy and before being wheeled into the OR, they asked me how I'd like to put the baby to rest. I am so thankful the fetus was acknowledged as a human being, and she has been placed in a special section of Evergreen Cemetery, specifically for those babies that were miscarried or stillborn. Until today I didn't know I could hurt so badly. But I do know that there is a plan for my life. I know I will give birth to another child someday. And despite this overwhelming sadness, I will never lose hope.

I miss you so much, little angel baby. Janet