Man I just can't quit writing!

I'm just on a roll or something aren't I? So, as of tonight I am cloth diapering baby rascal aka Rollie Pollie. Why am I doing this? Because I love Mother Earth? (I do, but that's not why) Because I'm a full fledged Hippie? (not exactly, although make up has become a foregone conclusion as of late....babies will do that to a gal) Because I'm poor? YESSSSSS! OK, so I'm not POOR, poor.....but we're feeling that crappy economy and Daddy Rascal is in school at OU and working and I'm NOT working so I can raise these little rascals so that's that. Cloth diapers. OK, so we could totally afford disposables, but I kind of want to try the cloth ones. They're cute, I promise and downright addictive! (Like I need another addiction??) So Husband says I just need to start growing out my arm-pit hair and I'm full blown Hippie Mama.

Oh and I will have pictures veeeery soon of our nice little garden. We are backyard farmers ya'll! We are so tired of paying out the butt for "organic produce" and "organic chicken" and "organic eggs" so we're makin' our own! That's right, we have chickens and fresh eggs and soon fresh ORGANIC veggies! Yum Yum! Of course we're not legally allowed to have these cute little chickies in city limits, so "shhhh!" Don't tell, OK?

Our friendly neighbor this evening suggested we take our chickies POOP (yes, POOP) and throw it in our GARDEN for growing power or something. I just gave Daddy Rascal a look that said "don'teventhinkaboutorillkickyourbutt". Seriously. I don't know if you are familiar with chicken poop but it's NASTY, NASTY, NASTY. I mean all poop is kind of nasty, but chickens have a lot of animals beat. I'm pretty sure anyways.

So I'll post pictures in the coming weeks. First the chickies because they're all set up, and when our garden actually looks like a garden (and not a square box of compost) I'll post those too. I can't wait for that fresh, yummy corn! And watermelon! And green beans! Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm. Now of course, if you are too lazy to grow your own produce (that's right, I called you lazy) go to the Farmer's Market and help out those local farmers! Farming is COOL man!

On a lighter note

Plumber butt baby rascal

Boy Rascal taking a bath and havin' a really good time!

Rascal cuddles

Daddy Rascal and Boy Rascal being Rascals! (that's chocolate btw in Boy Rascals mouth, mmm)

Cutest baby rascal EVER!

Hope you enjoyed the shots of my favorite three rascals. My life would be a sad one if they weren't in it! We're a happy family in spite of things......just rascals livin' life! I love you Daddy Rascal, Boy Rascal and Baby Rascal!

Acceptance

So I guess I'm struggling with this part of my grief. It sounds strange and maybe it is strange, but I don't think I've fully accepted that Isabella is really gone. Of course I *know* she died, I watched it with my own eyes, while she laid in my arms in the bed I still sleep in every night. It's not like I think she's coming back or anything crazy like that....

I'm just not sure how to explain this part of my crazy brain. Acceptance......stinks.

Husband, bless him, thinks I need to let her go. I think this is absolutely crazy (love you darling!) and I don't agree. Husband forgets a lot that he's a man and I'm a woman, so we don't really deal with anything in the same way. Sometimes I think he's not dealing with it "right", but I don't guess there is a supreme way to get through this....you just have make it through however you can. It's more complicated for me and I'll tell you why. I carried this beautiful creature in my WOMB for 10 months (let's be honest here folks, 9 months is a LIE) connected to her in the most intimate way two humans can ever be connected (yes, more than SEX, way more in fact) and then I gave birth to her. I loved her, I poured my heart, love and sweat into her every.single.day.of.her.life. When she came into this world she went straight to my open arms and that is exactly how she left it. I never left her side. She's my child, she is ME and I am HER. We are CONNECTED people. You can't just LET THAT GO. Or at the very least, I cannot let that go. I shouldn't have to dammit!

I know husband is just concerned because I seem to be focusing a lot lately on her death and he's right. I understand that can get very unhealthy, very quickly. It's just that the closer I get to the one year mark, the more I think of it. Perhaps I am just finally dealing with her actual death. That may also sound strange, but when she died I just turned into a zombie. Really. Last summer is a complete and utter black out for me. You may have seen me and thought to yourself "man, she's handling it really well, good for her" but I was on Stepford-mode man, total robot. Now I'm coming out of the fog, and while it sucks like you wouldn't believe, it also feels good in a sick way to deal with these emotions. I have to. Now if you were to see me you'd probably think "damn, she looks terrible! Like her daughter just died or something." Yeah.......it's just sort of hitting me. I don't know if this how it works for everyone who loses a child, but it's how it's worked for me.

This just isn't supposed to be my life. It's not what I planned and certainly not what I envisioned for myself. I should have three kids and I should be throwing a girl-pink-puke fest second birthday next weekend. But I am not. I will be eating Hummingbird Cake at a cemetery instead and releasing pink balloons to the sky and feeling sorry for myself. Oh, and I've been off my diet for two weeks now........how's that for emotional eating??? You like that? I'm going back on it tomorrow, no worries. I just had to eat a little ok? It made me feel better for like 30 seconds, so it's not worth it. But I did eat some good food. Mm.

The Birth Story (Of Isabella)

I remember the day I gave birth to my sweet girl like it happened yesterday. That's how all of my memories of her are....super sharp, like it all happened just moments ago. Thank goodness my brain realizes I need this.

I was set to be induced on April the 3rd at 8 am but had been told to call The Womens Center to double check at 6 am in case they had a lot of spontaneous labors overnight. Unfortunately for me I had decided to eat McDonalds the afternoon for lunch around 3 pm and got food poisoning. Yeah, food poisoning. SO, I was up ALLNIGHTLONG pooping my brains out (yeah, I know it's TMI, but it's a part of the story alright?) Finally at 4am I woke up to start getting ready for the induction, wondering if I would be able to do it since I was so ill. I showered and had a nice big puke fest (you should realize by now I'm not cutting the gore here folks) and immediately felt so much better. (ask me if I've had a McChicken sandwhich in two years......) So I call The Womens Center and lo and behold, they had a bazillion births over night (yeah, a bazillion) and they didn't think they could induce me. I was not a happy girl......at all. I was ready to meet my Princess! I had waited for so long to have my girl and I was ready. I tell husband and he's not happy either. He's considering just showing up and demanding induction. Yeah, OK. So we wait. And wait. Finally at 8:30 they call and say my OB decided to go ahead and do me but canceled all her others. Funny....all her "others" oh the modern days of having babies right? (I should tell you at this point since I'm all "hippie" now and give birth naturally.....I had let this OB convince me that Isabella was HUMONGO and that if I didn't deliver her immediately I would get a C-Section. I'm no longer that stupid you should know.) So we get Turkey settled with my MIL and we're off to the races. Blah, blah we get there, get hooked up, you know the drill. Boring details. Then we wait, the not so fun part.

I just remember feeling so excited. One of my good friends Molly was doing her clinicals for nursing that morning in OB so we chatted with her for a while, various family members came and went. We just soaked up the moment. The quiet. Husband and I talked alone for a while about how things were about to change. No more only child for sweet little Turkey, who was all of 20 months old at the time....a baby really. My heart aches for him in the days to come after Isabella's birth........we just had no idea.

Giving birth is just my absolute favorite part of pregnancy. The adrenaline you feel, the sheer terror at what you are about to put your body and psyche through....it's the most amazing thing I'll ever do with my body.

I do remember the nurse at one point putting an oxygen mask on me because I guess Isabella's heart rate kept dropping, but she wasn't concerned, so neither was I. So I dutifully took hits of O2 until she said everything was fine. Soon after that it was time to push.....I could tell somehow, even with the epidural and asked the nurse to "check me". Sure enough, the moment had arrived. I gave a "practice" push and the nurse yelled "STOP, she's coming!" Um..yeah, sure, I'll just flippin' hang out while you screw around and get the doc......no hurry, alright? I mean it's totally comfy with my legs in these stirrups and THISHUMANHEAD forcing its way out of my vagina. I'm fine, really........

My OB walked in pretty leisurely now that I think of it......casually glanced at my crotch-o-rama and said "Oh my! She IS ready!" (and people wonder why I went with a midwife for baby #3, hmph!)

My sweet girl was delivered by two short pushes. My first thought and words out of my mouth were "Oh my god she has blond hair ! She can't have blond hair!" Then we all laughed while I nuzzled my sweet girl and took her in. My breath, my own life, squirming and screaming in my arms. Oh the wonder of it all.

I remember that night husband went home to take care of little Turkey while I stayed with Isabella in the hospital alone. I had requested an early discharge (I loathe staying in the hospital,I find it so depressing even in joyful conditions). That night with her is still one of my most treasured memories with Isabella. Before I knew. Before our lives fell apart right before our eyes, while we just stood there, mouths agape, knowing we were completely and utterly helpless to stop it. She was so sweet that night........so quiet and content. Such a little girl, all that I had longed for. I stared at her for hours that night in pure ecstasy thinking of the years I would have with my daughter. Planning out her life and our relationship. We would be best friends you see. She would talk about boys to me, ask for my advice. We would shop together, decorate together. I was going to watch her dance and make precious tutu's for her to dance in. I would soak up all the girlyness and relish in it. I had no idea in those moments. I would have no idea for 6 more weeks. Until the awful seizures started and would steal my dreams in an instant. Crush my heart and soul in a way that is un-fixable on this Earth. This night was mine and hers. I would wonder why she didn't breastfeed well and the nurses would tell me it was fine. She was tired afterall. When you want things to be OK, you'll believe anything. I know.

Her birth was the only thing that came easy in her life, so I will always cherish it. No matter what ugliness and suffering came after that day, her BIRTHday will always remain beautiful to me. Is it because I can still remember what my life felt like before Lissencephaly tore it in two? Perhaps. But I think that is OK. I wouldn't trade my experience with Isabella for a million dollars. She changed me forever in the most awesome of ways. Now if I can just get my heart to listen.........

On April 3rd, if you can, think of my sweet girl. She would have been two next Thursday and believe me, my heart knows it.

I love you Princess and I miss you more than you know.

I am here and I am alive I promise!

Like the new look? I thought it was time for a change....... Those tootsies belong to Isabella, myself, husband and Turkey. (Obviously taken before Rollie Pollie rolled along.) I don't know if it's the angle, the lighting or a bad combination of both, but my feet look monstrous! Especially when you consider husband has size 13 feet! OH MY GOODNESS. I mean, yeah, my feet aren't tiny or anything, but I'm not a man!! In this picture I appear to be. Still a cute picture though, right?

OK, well I have lots and lots of thoughts and emotions running through my mind these days. Isabella's birthday is next week. Yep. We have arrived. It sucks. Actually that is a terrible understatement, but I'm trying to make it through. This weekend when I have more than five seconds to collect my thoughts and hammer them out I want to write out Isabella's birth story. Before we knew. No matter what, that day was a good day. A beautiful day. No matter what came after that day, I didn't know when I gave birth to my beautiful Princess that she had that dreaded word.........Lissencephaly. I was blissfully unaware of what lay ahead in the road map of my life. I would wonder that night why she was so quiet and nursed so lazily, but I wouldn't care. I would chalk it up to sleepiness from my epidural and tell myself she just needed a day. Or two. Or............

I will write about it this weekend.....I promise. I need to work through these emotions before they suffocate me. I have this life I have to live. I have these two beautiful boys who need me.......I have to find a way to survive this pain......this utter loss. Somehow.

To be continued.......