Family love, day three and three quarters

I had a statue of an Indian woman in my house for years and year. Indian as in Hindu/Buddha type woman. It was a leftover from my love affair with Buddhism. This love affiar is now a sweet remembrance and not a present part of my life. Don't get me wrong, I love a chubby Budda as much as the next one. Asian philosophy is a kind and wonderful way to think about life. But, it's not my religion.

I fall under the category of garden variety Christian. I co-lead a women's bible study group. Within that group are women that run more fundamental than I. Fundamental meaning they don't watch R rated movies, drink alcohol or read books like Lord of the Rings. They're kind of like nuns. Only they're married with kids, just like me.

These women I study with, they've been with me through my miscarriages. There has been some movement about this in terms of healing. Mr. Hall and I have started to talk about miscarriages like it really happened. We lost real babies. Complete with names.

SO, here we go.

The first baby we lost lived six weeks in my belly. I didn't really have a name picked out, but we've named him John.

The second baby we lost may or may not have been real. I only had a pregnancy test and my left over HCG (that's the hormone that makes the pregnancy test turn positive) may have been left over from John.

The third baby was already named. I called her Chloe. She made me super sick during the 16 weeks I had her in my belly. Even when her soul went to heaven (at 11 weeks) my body was still trying to take care of hers. My placenta was still pumping out hormones and nutrients. I feel enormously happy about this. Even after she was physically taken from my womb, my body started producing milk to feed her. I am happy about this too.

And we still love them. John and Chloe. They are as real to us as Pancake and Mac. And we have our faith. I lean on this and wow is that healing! Some days the pain of all this knocks me down and consumes me. Some days I feel such joy that I had them even if it was a few weeks. On those days I really feel I'll see them again. God didn't take them from me, I'll see them in heaven. I can feel this on days I let God in to heal me.

Which brings us to now. Mr. Hall and I are without barriers to pregnancy. No more birth control. We've surrendered our will to God and are letting Him work through this, through us. And naturally I turn to my Christian sisters. Even the fundamentalist ones because they love me and support me in awesome ways.

One thing they did say was to rid my house of false idols. Which sounds silly. But, we already love the baby that will come next. And it's best to care for her every way possible.

So, I gave away my Indian woman sculpture in the name of family love :)

getting my hopes up

I've been neglecting yon blog as of late. I just don't have much to say. My real life has picked up, which is nice.

The foster parent journey continues on. Met with the social worker and she had me explain myself for about 45 minutes. Kinda like a free therapy session really. It's been a while that someone new wanted to know every last detail about me. Of course, she's interested in me as future foster mom for the foster kids in her charge. But still, it's nice to be asked.

Then . . .

We got the bill from our recent adventures in birth control. Thank GOODNESS AND GOD ABOVE we have insurance. Seriously, the entire bill was about a 1000 dollars and we paided about 20% of that. That's right. Co-pay of about 2 hundo!

Holy CHIT!

THEN . . .

There are talks. Husband and wifely talks. Of craziness . . of the last six months post miscarriage. Of body, mind, soul and God. Of what if we . . . . wait . .

what if we . . .

try again?

What if we let go of the birth control? What if we don't try to prevent a pregnancy.

This (of course) unleashes yards and yards of crazy inside. It was good crazy though. Healing crazy. Soothing tears and hugs and what if's that make me us happy.

So we discussed all of this for long amounts of time. Months go by. We revisit. We think and pray and think and pray and hold each other. And wow. It's crazy and calm now.

SO . . . .

even before the check clears from our co-pay, we'll be trying again. Which wow, really? Now we have to tell the social worker we still want to sign up for a foster care liscense but- we can only do respite care for other parents for now. I feel really bad about this part. I didn't realize what I was feeling as I felt it and I didn't realize my husband was still feeling his feelings and OH MY GOODNESS.

Then the craziness starts in a whole different way. I've been through five pregnancies, two live births and three miscarriages. Yet, during the last lady part exam, I was told I was healthy and awesome. Well, not awesome per se, but healthy at least.

Then----well, NOW actually--my task is to figure out how to negiogiate this. How do I get pregnant again? I realize how, but how do i deal with my crazy? I can say that I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE ANOTHER OB GYN AGAIN FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I DON'T WANT ANY STUPID TESTS OR PEOPLE TOUCHING MY JUNK. I DON'T WANT TO BE TOLD I HAVE TO TAKE EXTRA STUFF TO KEEP MY PREGNANCY HEALTHY AND I'M NOT GOING TO STOP DOING YOGA.

Of the list above, I think I can avoid OB GYN care until maybe the 20th week. Then I don't have to see them until the birth. And nobody has to touch my stuff. I can say no.

Mr. Hall and I will be employing a doula (kinda like a midwife) because I want my care to be from someone who doesn't triple book me into a 10 minute time slot.

And last but not least, I'll turn towards God during all of this.

Because God wants me to be happy, happy with my bible studies, happy with my church family, happy in His word. Happy with my children and blessings and happy happy happy. God designed women to be fruitful and let His blessings grow. I can get pregnant, grow a beautiful baby and birth them. He has given me two before. Miracles can happen, they've happened to us! This is how I'm dealing with. I'm choosing to be happy!

He doesn't want me to be in some doctor's office, chewing my nails and looking baleful. So, I won't!!

So, let's raise a glass shall we?

Here's to getting my hopes up!

I washed people's feet all day, then this happened

(this post is a long one, but if you stay to the end, it will be worth it :)

I recently took part in an event sponsored by "Samaritan's Feet". This organization hands out socks and shoes for free. All you have to do is show up to the tent.

In the tent there were ~ 150 volunteers. We all had different jobs--foot washers, runners, ushers, greeters etc. I volunteered for 'foot washer'. My choice surprised me. I'm not a fan of feet. But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized-

I'VE BEEN DOING FOOT CARE ALL MY NURSING CAREER. Of course I should be a foot washer.

People sat down in front of me and I'd say, "Welcome, my name is Holly. Thank you for coming. Today we hope to provide you with a new pair of socks and shoes." Then Mr. Hall would ask what size shoe they needed and would run to get it. (He was my runner :) Then I'd say, "While we're waiting, can I wash your feet?"

Why wash the feet? Because Jesus did this.

This was my day on a Saturday. Greeting people and offer to wash their feet while we were waiting for their shoes. Some people didn't want their feet washed, some didn't want the shoes we brought, some didn't have any idea what we were doing. What we were doing- was spreading the love of God.

It's important to note, they didn't have to have their feet washed. They didn't have to do anything to get the shoes. Except show up to the tent :)

While I was washing or just waiting, I'd ask them if they went to church. I'd ask them what brought them to the Samaritan's Tent. I'd get a variety of responses. Some would be upset, some would be confrontational. Some would embrace the experience and share their journey with me. Some would tell me about their baptism. Before everyone left, I would ask if I could pray for them. And if they said yes, I'd give it my best shot, take their hands in mine and pray my heart out.

It was a day of awesomeness, this day of washing feet. It was very natural and easy going too. I like volunteering. Especially with Mr. Hall.

Then.

This happened.

The next day, in church, at the very end, I was drifting off in my thoughts. The service had gone long, something like 2 hours long. The pastor of my church can get quite worked up. :) Then, I felt something like a shift. Like an opening inside and I thought to myself, "I'm done." It was just like that: "I'm done.", painted in gentle, yet unmistakable letters in my brain.

It took me a moment. I had to figure out what I was done with.

I figured it out. I flashed to an image that's been haunting me. I see myself, laying there, on the exam table, getting the ultrasound and not seeing my baby's heart beat. Then being told her heart wasn't beating. This is how I learned of both my miscarriages, through ultrasounds.

But, I was done. And this image, it was different. It was like I was in the room with my former self. Like I was standing next to me. I could embrace myself. I could comfort myself as I spasmed and choked on my tears. And that scene, it no longer haunts me. Because I'm done. I'm done hurting about it. I'm done. I'm not the same woman laying there on the table. I am healed.

And I figured out even more.

I've been cranking my thoughts like a spinning top, cranking on it so hard. My thoughts have become torturous, thoughts of "Should we try to get pregnant again?" or "Should take the IUD out?" or "We need to stop trying/wait no. . . " These thoughts, they would scare me and drive me nuts. BUT I AM DONE. I took my hand off the crank. I am done. I am not bound up in want and fear anymore. I'm done. Just done. I am healed.

So we drive home, and I feel calm, peace and happiness. I feel 500 pounds lighter. I praise Jesus for this. It is amazing the relief I feel.

Then, I put the kids down for the nap. I curled up to Mr. Hall and told him all of this. And I said, whatever you need, how ever you need it, I am here for you. And we hugged and wept.

messing with my fertility

Warning: this post is a bit graphic, but power through and it'll be worth it.

So, last week came the time for me to FINALLY schedule the appt. The appt to stop my fertility-aka-have a mirena iud placed.

In the last two days, I've been kind of a mess. First off, I don't like going back to that place-the hospital where I learned of my miscarriages and where my d & c's were performed. I don't like dealing with my high powered OB GYN, I don't like her. It's not her specifically, it's that she never once gave me a hug during what was probably the most horrible times in my life. Not that I want a hug, in fact, I don't want anything to do with it at all. All of it, the hospital and the ob-gyn, it triggers large buckets of sadness and my heart to ache.

This doesn't change the fact that Mr. Hall and I are still fertile. But, we don't want to make any decisions right now-about having babies I mean. I gently suggested we just throw caution to the wind, not actively prevent any pregnancy. And he said no, that would be making a decision. We need to heal, he said.

SO

En route to the appt I was losing my shit. I was honestly second guessing everything. I was thinking-maybe just go on the pill for a few months-or-the depo shot, that's an option. Then I started to get really pissed off. Then I almost turned around. I don't want any of this. I still want to be pregnant. I was due December 18th! I still should be pregnant!

BUT I'm not.

This was horrible, thinking and feeling all of this. Especially the last part, where I realize I still want to be pregnant but I'm not. It's a horrible snap back to how I felt two months ago. I'm two months on the other side of losing the last baby now. It's still raw and tender.

Mr. Hall is right about the need to heal some more.

In the clinic, I was crying on the inside when the nurse called my name. I made polite small talk. Told them 14 times I hadn't had sex since my menses started. They asked 14 times and had me take a pregnancy test. Which was negative.

sigh.

What it comes down to is this, I AM NOT DONE ADDING CHILDREN TO THIS FAMILY. I AM NOT DONE AT ALL.

But.

Getting pregnant is not something I want right now. I don't want the scared, the sad, the frightened. I don't want the waiting, the positive pregnancy test, the throwing up and out of commission for two months. I don't want to go through another miscarriage. And even if I could possibly guarantee a problem free pregnancy with a bouncing healthy baby at the end. . . .

It's just not something we're capable of right now. I don't think we'll try to knock me up again.

SO

I layed back,and in the IUD went.

Then a funny thing happened. I felt better. I remember the OB GYN telling me it went well, no problems down there. She told me to make an appt in a month so she can check things.

To which I thought:

NOT A FUCKING CHANCE! I'M NEVER GOING TO SEE THIS CHICK AGAIN!!! OLLY OLLY OXEN FREE!!!

Mr. Hall can, ehem, 'check things' just fine.

Then, in the elevator, heading back to my car, I started giggling. I felt this rush of happiness come over me. I started dancing a wee jig. In the elevator. I felt free.

Then, on the way home, I felt even better. I got excited about going shopping for smaller clothes, I'm down 13 lbs now. Look below-only one chin!! I got excited about roller blading with my kids. I got excited about having more of my body back now that I have the wee IUD.

I'm so very thankful for what has been given to me, fertility wise. I'm so blessed to have all that I have.

And now, we'll give it a few more months and then pursue the other avenues of growing our family. :)

Sweet Cherry Bottoms

This is a photo of normal bone marrow.

A few days ago I got a call. It was about 2.30 in the afternoon. It was my high powered OB-GYN. She drew about 20 different tests to investigate reasons for my 3rd miscarriage. These tests were largely of the hormonal, cardiac and coagulation kind. Nothing genetic, but exterior. Stuff that can be fixed or worked around if found abnormal. Expect it wasn't. It all came back well within the normal limits.

Which caused a series of irrational and rational thoughts. But, first, I had to get back to work and see three more patients.

Then, on the drive home, my head exploded.

1. Irrational thoughts

What the HELL???
WHAT THE FUCK???
What do you mean nothing is wrong? My baby died for nothing? There must be something there, something we can point to. I mean, I had prepared for something being amiss. I mean, not totally wrong, but just enough wrong to cause problems with carrying a child to term. I DID NOT PREPARE FOR NORMAL. And I'm mad. REALLY REALLY MAD ABOUT IT. I realize we may never find out why we lost this baby but really, NORMAL???

(the thoughts spiraled like this for a while)

Then, things got weirder in my head.

Since I had prepared from something, perhaps just something small being wrong, I had prepared to turn down any intervention she would suggest to fix this something. To help us conceive and carry again I mean. Not that we are going to try again. I just thought we could take a looksie inside. Yah know, to poke around.

Then, I started thinking about the other layer of testing. Genetic testing. What if I have something inside that I've passed to my kids? She, the ob-gyn, doubts this. I have two healthy kids. I am currently still mulling over this layer of testing. It's expensive and most likely, will come up normal too. If so, what then?

2. Rational thinking

Then I remembered what my OB-GYN said about what we need to do 'if we want to try again'. Which made my head explode again.

I thought, NO. WE HAD DECIDED TO NOT TRY AGAIN. WE DECIDED WE CAN'T GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN. But right after I scream this in my head-the whispers start. Unstoppable whispers of 'what if.' We if we did? Then I remembered I've given away all my maternity clothes and baby clothes and baby swings and . . .

Then I remember. I didn't give away all of it. I kept my favorite baby clothes and put them in my dresser. The crib and the baby swing were given to my brother. I can replace baby clothes in a snap. Which means when I gave away all that stuff, I didn't really give away anything.

And at this point I'm breathless, standing in front of my husband, exploding all over him. I'm huffing and puffing. My voice is loud and shaky, arms all akimbo. And he's smiling. SMILING!!! He's telling me he's already thought about this. Weeks ago. He was able to logically think this through while I was swimming in raw emotion. Then he said we never decided 'not to try again.'

We had merely decided to wait six months before we decide anything. And I search my mind. I find this to be true.

I was shocked at this. I am shocked that this entire time my husband has been keeping track of me and logically thinking through things. I am shocked because he knew what I was saying before I said it. Just gobsmacked.

Then I stopped exploding. We stood there, holding each other. Gently rocking back and forth. He's soothing me and I him. I'm so amazed by him, so blessed this is my husband.

And it's true. We need to wait to let all the crazy chaos inside settle. To let our hearts and spirits heal. We are in no shape to do any sort of anything right now, let alone make decisions.

So for now, I'll focus on my health. Go to yoga, continue on weight watchers. Maybe look into a personal trainer. I'll focus on the kids, loving my husband, going to church and feeling God's hands continue to heal me.

And it's good. :)

How I can tell I'm getting better

• I'm yawning. I first yawned a few days ago in yoga. I mean, i've been so tired, but no yawns. Yawning requires relaxing. I've not been relaxed lately. So, it's nice yawning again.
  
  
• I'm dreaming crazy dreams. I'm a crazy dreamer. I've posted about it on the 'dream exchange' before. In the last few nights, I've finally started dreaming again. It's fantastic.
  
  
• I am down 8 lbs and my double chin is started to recede. I am transitioning from size 16 to size 14. I have size four pantalones. They'll have to wait 'til winter though. This will take a while :) Yay weight watchers!
  
  
• My eyes don't feel like they're going to bleed. I feel rested this morning. Really, really rested.
  
  
• Mr. Hall and I are talking more about losing the pregnancy. We're bringing it up and sharing our emotions. I weep- but not spasming, choking sobs. Just crying and being sad.
  
  

Things I need to work on:

• Caring for Mr. Hall. He has the sads too. But not like me. He carries it differently. I need to massage and give lots of non verbal love. Scalp massages are especially important. I need to take care of me and stand tall. According to the bible, Eve was created to sustain Adam. I must remember this. I sustain him.
  
  
• Stop obsessing. Slow down. Be present here and now.
  
  
• Continue my yoga practice and start to make pleasant small talk. My yoga studio was new to me when I started back up. It seems there is a good group there. I am a newbie and people are making overtures to me. I can't hide. I need to make nice and be open. Smile. Talk. And work those poses like a red redheaded step child.
  
  
• Ask God for help with all of this. Healing is a possibly. Getting through this, to the other side, is possible. But not alone. So I pray. And pray, and pray. And through Him, anything is possible.
  
  

To the doctor that frequents strip clubs

I've never been one to sit still and let life happen. I have unending ambition.

So what am I to do now, now that I'm done trying for more babies?

The first part is getting comfortable with saying it all out loud. I have lost the baby. This affects people. Most people at work know now. Lots of women come up to me, tilt their head, put their hand on their heart and reach out to touch my shoulder. They say, "I'm so sorry for your loss." or "I heard you lost your baby, I'm so sorry."

Then there are the women that say, "Now your baby is in heaven." Which really, that's a sucker punch to me.

When they say that, I have visions of my babies in heaven. Like some alternative plane of reality or something. Then I start to think I can reach out and hold my lost babies, if I just cross over to that plane. Then I stop. Because my babies are dead. As in not living. For me to reach them I would have to be dead too. THAT'S when I stop thinking like this. It catches me completely off guard.

I don't fault anyone though. I can't imagine how tough it is to be near me, knowing and then having to say something. Part of my hurt smudged off on them. I want to say things that ease their pain. So I say I'm getting better. I try to model the 'healing with dignity' stance. And really, I don't take offense to any of it.

Some have been pushy with asking what happened. I don't want to tell them so I don't. They can shove off.

But, I told the whole story to the doctor who frequents strips clubs. This man is sometimes special to me. I've written about him here. Basically, he's my mentor. However, he's not that appropriate of a man to keep company with. I still like him though.

He didn't tilt his head or try to touch my shoulder. He just said, "Hey, how are you?" Then he listened. He didn't flinch or look sad while I talked. The entire story came a tumbling out.

Then, I said, "If I'm not adding babies to the family, what the hell am I suppose to be doing?"

Which is what I am facing these days. It's a whole new layer of suckage. There are no goals right now. So, I am still. Pain is seeping in all over my body. I have this cantaloupe in my chest, just in there. It's pain and loss and it's making me cry.

I could come up with ambitions, like running a marathon or climbing some mountain. I mean, I have physical goals. Back on the weight watchers. Lost 7 lbs so far. Down to size 14 pants.

I don't want to have these kind of goals. These goals can suck it. The more I tend to my health, the more I admit I had a miscarriage. It's taking care of my pain. It's hard and it sucks and I no want.

So I'm telling this to the doctor who frequents strip clubs. And I say, "My ambition level hasn't changed but I'm not sure what to do with it. What am I to do now?"

"Holly," he said with at twinkle in his eye, "You can do anything."

And with that, I knew I had told the right person. And OH!, I felt so much better. :)

Magical hanging fruit

This will, I suppose, be a hard day. thoughts are repeating and my heart is breaking. But I'm still needed as a mom and wife. I'm still have the next three days off and I want to function as such. It's a fight of the baby loss sad. I don't want to embrace the sad today. Today I want to be happy. Enjoying my crazy kids and all the magical hanging fruit around us.

So that's the question, can I direct what rises within me?

Here's hoping.

I'm shutting the door for a reason

So.

Much as I feared. Went back to work and . . .


NOONE READ THE FLIPPIN EMAIL.

The email that announced my miscarriage. So I spent the day traumatizing people with the news as they looked horror stricken and then tried to lean in for hugs or something.

Spent the day hiding. With my office door shut. I'd open it for patients of course. But I didn't want coworkers to stop by. Some ignored the shut door and knocked anyway. I gave minimal eye contact and said cliche things.

Then, Mr. Hall and I talked when I got home. confirming our plans to not get pregnant again. Then we talked about adopting. Foster to adopt. He wants to wait. Which I understand. I'm not anywhere near ready to start researching yet.

Except I have. I've been reading books on the subject for years. Even back when I was fully fertile and exploding with babies. He said we have to wait six months. It's true. I'm nowhere near the healing.

Then he said, "ya know" "we'll eventually have to stop somehow." Meaning we just can't be adding children forever. Which really sucker punched me.

What the hell else am I suppose to be doing if I'm not adding children to The Tribe Called Hall?

Develop more flavors?

Alright, off to dinner with some women from my church.

ttfn

Remainders

Fun was had by all yesterday. There was drinking and card throwing and pool swimming and fun. I think I was drunk for like 5 hours straight. That was awesome.

Today, I did more cleaning. I am finding the weirdest remnants. This great purge of baby stuff is endless. Each time I turn around I find a new pile. The kids have permeated our lives. I'm probably be finding baby stuff for years.

Kids have permeated my brain too. I still find myself analyzing names I hear. Trying to figure out if it's a good fit for the baby. Then I remember. gah. Stupid remainders in my brain.

Found a tape in a mess of old cd's in the garage. It was Fugazi. Made for me by an ex boyfriend. I can say cassette tapes do NOT hold up well. The quality was absolute crap. It was all warpy and wonderful.

Memories of being stupid and young and naked and so passionate come bubbling up when I listen to this. I was ~20 at the time. I can say that I've had great life so far. It's still a great life. I just have to wait out this sadness.

And now I give you the waiting room . . .

Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

I have given away about a dozen bags of maternity, baby and kids clothes (check). Breast pump is up on craigslist. (check)

Tomorrow, I'll be giving my brother the crib, high chair and baby sling. I'm not sure where the stroller is, but he'll get that too. (check and check)

There are things I'm not giving away. Like the last two pairs of maternity pants that arose from the dryer today. One pair is from Monday, when I found out the baby died. The other is from Tuesday, when I had the D & C, and my pregnancy was officially terminated. There is no way I'm giving that kind of mojo to goodwill.

Right now, they're in the kitchen. In the garbage bin. But, I don't think that's far enough away from me. I want to go get them and put them in the trash bin out in the garage. Yet, not far enough. I want to put them in my car, drive 4 hours away. Then, I'll put them in some dumpster outside a hotel or something. Yet, not far enough. So, I'll drive even further, out on some beach somewhere. Then, I'll set the entire car on fire, so the pants can just burn to ashes.

Yeah, it's not a healthy place in my head right now.

I realize it's not the pants. It's the pain that those pants represent. And even if I drive to mars and blow the planet, the car and the pants to smitherens, I'll still be here. Sitting with my pain. Which crushes me so hard sometimes I can't breathe. I just sob these retched sobs. This tight ballon of jello just lays there, in my chest. Coagulating.

So what do I do with this? I keep going.

Talked to a good friend tonight. Confirmed the plans for a get together tomorrow. I had to tell her the news. I don't know how to tell people who love me, who loved that I was pregnant, who love my kids . . I don't know how to tell people about the miscarriage without traumatizing them.

And I lie.

I say I am getting better. I say today is a better day then Monday. I say I have good days and bad days but today is a good day. And while that may be true, it's not true yet. It seems I have no choice but to fight for every laugh, every smile, and every joy I feel when my kids are near.

And fight I will. I believe this unbelievable pain will be here for quite some time. But that's not going to stop me. I will continue to have love and happiness seeping in my every pore.

Pants be damned, I will rise again.

to do list, something funny

When I describe my blog, I say, "It's like an online diary or journal". And right now, this would apply:

ok, brought three bags of maternity clothes to goodwill. (check)

tomorrow, i assume i will pack up at least a dozen bags with baby clothes. (check)

Why so many clothes? Cause I shop the thrift stores and garage sales. I get the steals and deals.

Wrote my work colleagues (check) and said this:

"Hey Gang-

You may not have heard yet, but I lost the pregnancy this week. All told, I was pregnant 17 weeks.

Needless to say it's been a rough week. Things are getting better with rest and I am very blessed to have a supportive family. We are doing a lot of praying which is helping immensely.

Well, take care everyone and see you next week."

Hopefully people will read this. People at my work DON'T read their email often. I know I'm going to walk in there and someone will call out 'mamacita' and ask about the pregnancy and I'll have to drop the bomb on them. Which will be their fault really. They should have read the email.

But they didn't. So we'll sort of look at each other and they won't know what to say. Then, I'll have to ease the tension. Which I can do. But I hope with the email people won't say much to me. They'll just avoid me because it's awkward. Which is great really, win win.

I am not sure things are getting better. But I'm appearing in public better. Grieving like a ninja. Coming to grips with regular conversations again. Even made a joke at the park with another mommie today.

SO next on the list is to find a way to calm my crap at night. Otherwise there will be a lot more posts like this. At two am- cause I can't sleep.

Ok, let's turn our attention to something funny. Like this..

Field of Dreams 2: NFL Lockout with Taylor Lautner from Taylor Lautner

Alright, I'm going back to bed. It's 2.22, Wish me luck.

yesterday

my favorite dress:

I know that to get through this, my third miscarriage, I need to turn towards it, not away. This is why I write this. Right here.

The more I write, the more I explore, the better this will get. If I stuff it down it decays. Then it rises up all Zombie like. Which is gross and not helpful.

Yesterday, I went to the hospital and things went better. The images are cleaner and don't haunt me as much. I knew what to expect with this d & c. The nurses were chipper and helpful. There were some tears but nothing like the howl fest of Monday. I am breathing again. I even dropped my daughter off at vacation bible school.

I told her yesterday. I told her that I went to the doctor and found out the baby didn't make it. We cried together. Then she said, "I'm never gonna get a bunk bed!"She was going to get a bunk bed to share with her brother so the baby could have a room all to him/herself. When she said this, she made me laugh. Kids are very self focused. :) She'll be fine. :)

Anyway, today, I am incredibly sore and crampy today. It's a good sore though. Makes sense kind of sore. Which is awesome. Things making sense is awesome.

I restarted weight watchers. I will restart vinyasa (hot) yoga next week. I am making an effort today to reach out to friends. Making plans for a bbq/pool get together. A small one anyway.

Life moves on. I am going to give away all my maternity, baby and toddler clothes soon. We have like 6 storage totes full of the stuff. I will pack them up and give them to goodwill. Mr. Hall says I need to wait though. At least a week. I'll just have to trust him on that.

I like having projects though. Lists of stuff to do to keep my busy. Down time is a killer. Thoughts well up, images flash in my mind. gah. I understand the delay though. I know I'm not thinking right right now. I can't trust everything I think or feel.

I am doing a lot of praying. Which is a struggle. I live in a lot of denial so I have to remember to reach above because I don't always feel the pain underneath. When I reach above the pain lessens and I feel better. It's amazing.

I can say this. When I woke up in recovery, from the surgery, I felt kind of righteous. I thought, we're not done yet, we're not done growing our family. When things are better, when more mourning has commenced, when I feel some semblance of getting to the other side, that is when we start looking at our other options.

Because we're not done yet. Mr. Hall agrees:

"Our family is awesome and there's not enough of us!"