Mama to many

wanna win a quilt?

2008-11-13T13:59:00.000-08:00

Well then get ye to www.oldredbarnco.blogspot.com and enter! They are giving away three gorgeous quilts......for FREE! who doesn't want a free, gorgeous, girly quilt? I know I do!

Happy Birthday my King......

2008-10-23T19:38:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while since I've posted, I guess that's a good thing. I've been in a better place and I'm liking it there.

To my third baby, who is well on his way to no longer being a baby. Today you are an entire year old. It's hard to believe that on this day last year you looked like this:

And today you look just like this:
Yeah, I totally put my babies to work as soon as they can walk......hello?

Rollie Pollie, you are a light in all of our lives, but most especially in mine. When I found out I was pregnant with you I was beyond elated. I remember the day, I was in the ER where I kind of still worked and everyone was so shocked at my excitement. I mean, my daughter had this terrible, horrible disorder and took all of my time, so how could I be happy about another baby? It's simple really.......I knew God had planned it just.like.this. Make no mistake, you are no replacement baby and you will never feel like one, I promise you that. You are the sunshine after the storm. You are the restoration of my faith in good and humanity in a crazy, sad world. You have helped in ways you will never understand to heal my mother's heart. You are a gift from God, like all of my children, but you are a little more special in your own way. You came at the right place, at the right time. You are perfect my sweet son and I love you so much.

This last year has been amazing and I have absolutely loved watching you grow. I had forgotten how magical it is to have a child that can sit up, crawl, babble, smile, laugh, WALK! You are the sweetest most affectionate child yet. You love to breastfeed (still!) and love to give kisses (open mouth of course!). You are very social and always meet everyone with a smile. You are incredibly adventurous and I am always on my toes trying to guess your next move. You are a master immitator; always mimmicking my every move. You are stubborn and full of emotions, like somebody else I know (no names!)

Happy Birthday my sweet little monkey, I cannot wait to watch you grow up into the intelligent, handsome, caring and compassionate man I will raise you to be. I love you more than life............Love, Mama

wishin and hopin and prayin

2008-09-09T20:04:00.000-07:00

Wow. What a month. I'm so totally zapped I can hardly concentrate. My mind is all over the map and my eyes are permanently heavy. My dad is all fixed, no cancer and is finally HOME. All by hisself! OK, OK, I will admit he was a perfectly perfect house guest (third child!) and I kind of liked having him around to chat with during the day (I get so very lonely these days) but it's nice to have my house back. My silence back, no matter how short lived it is.

Last week my grandfather and great aunt both passed away from different cancers 24 hours apart. Geez. I'm starting to wonder if I have the freakin' cancer now. So two funerals, no weddings. Oh and toss in a major head cold to spread around the fam (thanks dirty pre-k kids! I'm talkin' to you disease spreaders!!) I'm done-zo! I am finally catching up on some sleep (well if you consider breastfeeding a teething infant a gagillion times a night sleeping, like I do that is) and starting to feel "normal" again.

Can I just say I am so stinking excited about this election?? I mean, really excited and ignited. I never thought I would push the democratic agenda, but I totally am. Totally. I love OBAMA! There I said it! I'm a "gut instinct" kind of gal and really it never steers me wrong (I sometimes just like to ignore it) and everything in me vibrates with ICK ICK ICK on McCain/Palin. I am a WOMAN and Palin makes me want to vomit. Of course she is the exact opposite kind of mother I am so that bugs me.........I mean, really? You just gave birth to a special needs kid like 5 seconds ago and your running for vice president of the FREE WORLD? IJustDon'tFreakinGetThat. At all. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt and I couldn't even work at my local ER anymore with Isabella. I'll say that Lissencephaly (severe Liss at that) and Down Syndrome are not even remotely comparable, but still. Special NEEDS. So that gets me.

Her abortion stance? Fuhgeddaboutit. Her referenceing herself as a "pitbull"..................in a word: gross.

But enough about her. Obama. Oh, Obama. You are young, you are bright, you look good too. Your family is precious, your politics are even better and oh, you don't agree with Iraq. SOLD!

So am I totally left wing nut? Nope. I'm just likin' what I'm hearing from that side and I'm so over Bush and everything he's done. I'm all about change, change, change. Especially in my own life.

I've just got this stirring inside me lately. I need to move, grow, change. Something. It's like my family is on the edge of this crappy, hellish cliff and we're about to fall off. (But in a really good way, not in a splat! dead way.) We totally have parachutes and grandure awaiting us at the bottom. I can just feel it.

Isabella just turned our world upside down and rocked it out and we are still figuring out how to turn it right side up, but better. I want to be a better mother, a better wife, a better friend.......just better period. I love that sweet girl, I MISS that sweet girl.........I wish I could dream of that sweet girl. I keep reading about all the these dead baby mama's out there and how they dream of their little babies/children and I can't help but feel jealous. Why doesn't Isabella come to me? She comes to Turkey I think, but no mama. Maybe my heart isn't ready for it like my mind is. Figures.

Turkey is offically a Pre-K kid and loves, loves, loves it. I couldn't be happier.........and let me tell you, two and half hours with one sweet baby is bliss squared. Wow, a whole new world.

The other night Turkey was laying in my bed staring at the huge picture we have of Isabella above our bed when he suddenly started crying. I asked him what was wrong and got this: "I really miss sister. I wish she would come back down. (long pause) It just makes me so sad."

Do you hear that? It's the sound of my heart breaking.

What am I supposed to do with this? Watching my child suffer through such tough emotions and he's a child! It's just not fair. I just explained to him how positively happy Isabella is now with Jesus and how healthy and free she is. It seems to make him feel better, but who really knows. This conversation will be on-going for years to come I am sure. We miss our girl.

Also, please pray for the Nielson's (Nie Nie and her husband Christain specifically) They are an amazing couple and they need all the prayers (and moolah!) they can get. Thanks.

good news and bad news

2008-08-25T10:47:00.000-07:00

So I'll give ya the good news first. My dad is cancer free, yesiree he is! The surgery went great, he is staying with me for two weeks (ohmyholyhellyesheis!) and it's been fine so far. He's a good patient here with me, much better than just after the surgery. Thank you for any and all good thoughts and wishes, they were answered, he is the first colon cancer survivor in his family. WOW.

The bad news: A darling, wonderful, amazing family has had tragedy strike. They are the Nielson family and they live in Arizona. The Nie Nie Dialogues, you know who I'm talking about. Well, she and her husband Christian were in an awful plane crash last week and both are in critical condition with burns all over thier bodies. They have 4 children under 6. Please click that sweet little donate button over there and help with the recovery efforts. Read Nie's blog, she is the most amazing woman, mother and wife. We should all aspire to be just like her in every way. Prayers and sweet thoughts are needed for them, God is listening. Their recovery is expected to take millions, yes millions, so please clickety click. Thank you.

(I totally would have put a little link do dad in there for to click on her blog, but I'm blogtarded so you'll just have to figure it out yourself.) So there.

I don't have much time these days so posting will be sparse, but I have thoughts and emotions running wild. The Nielson's have been on my mind and in my heart, I think about them most of the day right now. Really,their story is so touching, I hope it touches your life as well.

Off to be a nurse and mommy and wife. I'm tired. Very tired.

Emotional rollercoaster, here I come!

2008-08-16T09:12:00.001-07:00

My dad had his surgery yesterday and he came out fine, thank goodness. His doctor really took his case seriously and bumped her other surgeries to get him quickly due to our family history. So, the news. Good and bad of course. (Am I ever going to just get GOOD?!?)

Both tumors were removed successfully. She (the surgeon) removed an entire FOOT (holy bajoly!) of his colon and got it all. No colostomy, no complications. Big sigh of relief from all. Now for the bad news. If you recall, she removed a portion of his tumors for a biopsy. Those results came in the day before his surgery and she said it was concerning news. The type of cancer he has is adenocarcinoma, which is most commonly associated with the colon. So the good news is that she got all of the tumors out; gone baby gone. The bad news is that the biopsy, aside from showing the type of cancer he has, it also showed if it's a well differentiated cancer or a poorly differentiated cancer...i.e. slow/friendly cancer or mean/aggressive cancer. Cancer has personality ya'll.

Well, Daddy dearest has one of each. One tumor is kind of stupid and friendly and the other tumor is smart and quick to spread. So, that translates to another week of fretting and nail biting while we await the results of the ever important pathology report of the lymph nodes. I know, a whole stinkin' week.

I will say, that the doctors eyes revealed quite a lot about what she is thinking if the cancer has indeed spread to the ol' nodes. Not good. So we will just have to see. In the meantime she wants my brother and I to get genetic counseling she what were up for in our future. Boy, I just can't wait to see what kind of cancer I'm promised so I can freat and worry and stress over things that have not happened yet. Right. So I may forgo the genetic testing. I haven't decided.

I have already had my first colonoscopy and it was about as much fun as having nails driven through your skull. Although I don't have first hand knowledge of the latter. I am already, in fact, due for my second colonoscopy. Can't wait.

I think I'm just ready to be done with death for a while. Are there some sort of "death quotas" out there?

Of course, most of these emotions take me right back to Isabella's death. It's not a place I like to visit and re-visit very often. If I am totally honest I can say that I have felt anger at those around me who are dying/will die soon. I get angry that they will see her before me. Isn't that totaly craziness? I certainly don't want to die right now, I still have two beautiful boys to raise and love. I just don't want anyone else getting their grubby paws on my daughter before me! She's mine, all mine! Don't even get me started on husband dying before me.............oh my goodness that really lights my fire. I'm a freak.....I know.

So another round of The Waiting Game for me. I will keep you posted. More good thoughts/prayers/vibes, whatever ya got. Please and Thank You!

sweet boys

2008-08-10T20:28:00.000-07:00

My babies.........aren't they precious?

Cancer here, cancer there, cancer, cancer everywhere!

2008-08-07T20:01:00.000-07:00

When it rains it really does poor doesn't it?

So today I took my Dad to have a colonoscopy...........and of course it just so happens that colon cancer totally runs in my dad's side of the family. I'm pretty sure just about everyone has died of it.............literally, everyone. My dad is the only one left, (well except for my brother and myself of course.)

I'm in my twenties and already I have had my first "screen". Let me tell you, colonoscopies are not fun.

Funny maybe........just not fun.

So, my dad. I waited (with my two kids whining the whole time, gotta love it) and waited and really just didn't expect any kind of bad news. I mean, sure, it had been five years since he'd had his last colonoscopy and yeah, he's overweight, and yeah he never gets his heart rate above...oh, a resting heart rate and it runs in his family. But, still, I live in denial land from time to time and I thought I'd talk to the surgeon and she'd say "everything looks fine!"

Notsomuch.

I go back there and suddenly my dad looks so fragile and a little scared. I ask how he's feeling and he mumbles something saracastic, like "just great". Then the doctor comes in..........the surgeon and she's a chick so I totally dig that. I love me some chick doctors, they are way better than dude doctors bytheway. She first says, "Well I have some bad news." I think something along the lines of "Of course you do dahling, that's the only kind of news I get." She goes on, "I found a good size MASS in your dad's rectum (oh goody!) and another smaller MASS in his actual colon. They look bad.............they look like, cancer." OK, so I have to admit, when she said the "C" word I almost lost it. Totally almost started bawling my big baby eyes out. I'm not really a crier, espcially in front of others, but this was too much. Again.

Quick like lightening I remember my dad and how my bawling like a freak wouldn't really give him that "comfort" feeling and I also remember my uber sensitive four year old who has already experienced enough emotional devastation for a frackin' lifetime, so I internally slapped myself silly and sucked it up. I got my big girl panties all pulled up! Then I listened to this rockin chick doctor and she made me feel better. A little bit anyways. Listen, I totally know that doctors lie just a little to make patients and their families feel better. I get that.....and I'm OK with it for now.

So, the course of action. First things first, we gotta get my Daddy-O's blood pressure down (don'tevengetmestartedonthatshit), so I scheduled him with his primary tomorrow morning PRONTO! He's gonna hate me when this is all said and done. Next week he'll have a PET scan and then we'll (yes WE) meet with rockin chick surgeon at the end of the week and discuss. He will have surgery to remove those nasty MASSES and we'll go from there. Best case scenario, the cancer is contained in those masses. Worse case scenario is that it's in his lymph nodes. So we wait.............again.

Oh and p.s............my dad lives all alone, no family besides ME (cancer, remember?) and had nobody. Sad, I know. So I will be taking care of him (which I'm totally OK with that!) I just wish it didn't involve two small children.

I see lots of chanting and lamaze type breathing in my future. Lots.

If you pray, please pray for my dad. He could use a prayer or two.

Thanks.

Bitter? Party for one........

2008-08-01T19:40:00.000-07:00

OK, so I've been a smidge bitter lately. Just a smidge. I do not really know why, where it came from and when it's leaving. I really no longer question my myriad of emotions anymore, I just go with it and wait. I know it will pass, I just sit and feel it and wait.

I guess I am just genuinely surprised at the lack of compassion husband and I have received after losing Isabella. I know some folks felt like we had made the decision to not do aggressive life saving procedures for her months before her actual passing and so we must have been totally prepared and at "peace" with it. However we were not totally prepared...........at all. I mean, yes, we were prepared in the sense that we knew she would not live this fantastically long life, at the most, with aggressive medicine, ten years is what we were told. In all honesty, the doctor, the expert felt more like two to three years. We got a little over a year. It was so sudden, her turn for the worse. She had been doing well, eating well, sleeping well, not seizing well and I just didn't see it coming. Much like her diagnosis. Didn't see that coming either.

I also have to admit I put on a pretty brave, strong face. Perhaps it's not just a "face", I do consider myself to be pretty brave and very strong.........but that doesn't mean watching my child die didn't destroy me.......or at least come thisclose to destroying me. It wasn't just hard or difficult, it was infinitely heart breaking. Something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Something I will carry with me for the rest of my life and sometimes I think that just sucks.

So I've got a bad case of the bitters. The "nobodyunderstandssowhydon'tIjusteatworms" bitters. I know I'm not alone in this, I know it very well. I have received emails from women all over the world with their stories of heartbreak and untimely loss. In some ways I find it horribly comforting and at the same time I find it horribly awful. It's a real catch-22. I'm glad to have the commraderie, yet devastated that so many of us are "in the club". But we are and we always will be. There are no do overs when it comes to life and death.

So what do I do with my resentment and bitterness? Surely I won't cling to it. I will pray like I always to my Father in Heaven that he will help me through. That I will know his peace and love and that I will make it through this. I cannot live my life angry and bitter. I will not live my life like that.

Coming up!! I will be posting about my total lack of weight loss and I am hoping that by posting just how fat I am, I can possibly shame myself into losing weight? Maybe? Hopefully? Please internet?

Goodnight!

More sadness coming my way

2008-07-29T20:15:00.001-07:00

So, my grandfather is dying......I like to just get right to the point you know. He's been sick for a while with recurrent prostate cancer. We found out about 6 months before Isabella passed away and he's been fighting it ever since. Up until last week he's been doing pretty good considering he is in his seventies and the cancer is everywhere in his body, eating him alive.

That is until last week.

My mom called me and said they had decided it was time for Hospice. Of course they wanted the Hospice nurse we had and I agreed that would be best. I loved Isabella's hospice nurse, or rather I love her. She is an amazing woman and became my friend over the months she spent stopping by once a week to check on us.

The trouble with all of this is what it's doing to me mentally. The flood of emotions and memories is almost too much to take. It's left me remembering all the bad days and the last week of her short life. I hate that week and I hate thinking about it even more. I still wake up most days wishing it was all a bad dream and that I have three healthy, beautiful children. Will I ever give that up? Will I ever find total acceptance?

Ironically enough I feel as though I do not know what to say to my mother who is losing a father or my grandmother who is about to lose her life companion. I have harbored such resentment against those who did not have the perfect words of comfort for me and I here I am, stumbling awkwardly. A taste of my own medicine I suppose. Death is uncomfortable to be sure and I find myself with this huge chip on my shoulder constantly thinking "well, their loss is not like my loss.....they aren't burying a CHILD". Or even "OK, he's old, he lived a long, happy life, Isabella certainly didn't get that!" Man, I totally cringed even typing that. It's awful.........but painfully true.

My mom did really piss me off the other night with some of dramatics. We were talking about her decision to place her dad in Hospice and how difficult it was for her and she literally said: "You just don't understand what it feels like to put SOMEONE YOU LOVE IN HOSPICE, IT'S LIKE YOU ARE GIVING UP ON THEM AND ACCEPTING THEIR DEATH." Ex-fucking-cuse me? I don't understand what it's like???? I literally could not even form words with my mouth I was so shocked. I mean, yeah, she's under some stress and she's facing her dad's death and all that so I should probably cut her some slack. But seriously? I think I fucking DO understand, like five million times MORE than she understands. Are we really going to compare the death of a dying old man to my daugther who never even got a real shot at life? Really? Are we sure about this?!

I in fact, absolutely know what it's like to put "someone you love" in Hospice. I can remember signing the DNR papers on my daughter, my child, my breath like it was yesterday. I can remember the people, the emotions, the fucking smells of that day. I can remember how Isabella was sweetly napping in her crib and I could hear her soft breathing on the monitor as I literally signed her life away. Just like that. Oh, but I don't understand. Please.

The problem, is that nobody understand ME and what I've been through. None of my friends, none of my family. Nada. I've searched high and low for a support group, email group, and have come up empty handed each time. There is nothing more isolating than losing a child, nothing more painful. I will say it loud and proud: If you haven't lost a child, you just don't know.

And hopefully, if you are lucky, you never will.

Wordle.............Word.

2008-07-29T08:53:00.000-07:00

I think this is so neat! You type in your url and it puts together this little "wordle" which is just a mass of all the words picked from your website. Pretty neat-o.

Here is mine : (Click to make bigger)




I'm clearly bored today...

How to resent all of your family and friends in one easy lesson

2008-07-28T20:03:00.000-07:00

OK, first of all you need to get pregnant. Totally basic stuff here, usually anyways.

Second, you need to have what everyone (including you!) thinks is a normal, healthy pregnancy.

Third, you need to give birth to a "healthy" baby.

Fourth, you need to find out in the coming days/weeks/months/years that something is terribly wrong with your "healthy" baby and your world needs to crumble around you. (The hard part)

At this point everyone around you will clamor to help and comfort you in any way they can. You will be amazed at everyone's compassion and generosity. You will experience a surge of love for all of your family members and friends like you have never experienced. This will go on for sometime, you will think you have been blessed by the gods with wonderfully supportive people who will never turn their backs on you. You are wrong.

Now your not-so-healthy baby has to die. (The hardest part.)

Where is all that love? The compassion? The generosity? The clamoring? Wh-wh-wh-wha?

Gone. Poof. Just like that.

Nobody wants to touch a dead child! Nobody wants to call you and see how you are doing. Nobody wants to even ASK how you are doing. Nobody dares to mention your dead child's name, because "what if you CRY for pete's sake??" Then what??

You grieve and you grieve alone. Your family? Your friends? They move on. It's so easy for them, too easy in fact. It's better to just not think about it. I mean, after all SHE is better off now right? She had no real life..........death was good for her. We can all rest easy now. They ASSume you feel the same way. They are wrong.

There you go, I told you it was easy-peasy!!

Did I think it wouldn't come back or what?

2008-07-22T20:00:00.000-07:00

So of course, I've been on an upswing (hence the lack of blogging) and there is only one way to go when you are up right? Doooown. Not that I've been in the pit of hell again, thank goodness. I've just been feeling morose lately.

If fact, yesterday I had the boys in a my new sparkley double jogging stroller running (trotting) and I just started sobbing. While running (trotting). I just miss my girl so much. Every minute.

Watching Rollie Pollie grow and flourish has done amazing things for my heart and soul. Just last week he was standing at some toy and he turned his head to smile at me and my heart stopped. I just saw a glimpse of Isabella......of how she would have looked playing and smiling at me. I've tried so many times to imagine what she would have been like and I guess I lack the skills, because I cannot even fathom a life for her that is not full of illness, seizures and total non-development. When I think of her, I think of her the way she really was, not the way I hoped she be........

On a better note, I have in fact been working out again (finally!) and I love it! I am finally starting to get myself back after all these hard years and it feels fantastic. I'm re-discovering me............not the mama, not the wife, just me. Where have I been? Having babies, losing a baby, having another baby, cleaning, cooking, wiping butts, taking names. Oy vey. It's good to come back to myself. Of course I'm still a mama, a wife and a butt-wiper, but I need to be ME as well and I sometimes (ok all of the time) forget that.

I have so much love in my heart for my sweet boys......I find myself everyday just staring at both of them in wonder. Rollie Pollie laughing, crawling, feeding himself, sitting UP! All of it seems like such a gift, such a miracle after Isabella. When a healthy child or children is all you know, you just take those things for granted. Of course they can sit up! Of course they can crawl/cruise/walk, Hello? Well, I've learned not every baby does those things. Not by a long shot. I took it for granted too. Now I know. It's a gift, it's luck, it's something you cannot see/touch/smell. You either get it or you don't. I have both, the good and the bad. Some only get good, some unfortunate souls only get the bad.

So I'm in a low spot again and that's OK. I know I'll come out of it, I somehow always do. The Rascals and I are taking a little weekend getaway and I'm excited.....well except that the highs are 105. Yes, that says ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE DEGREES. Ay yi yi! It should still be fun at least for the boys. We all need a little break so that we can come back revived and march on. Isabella wants that for us, that much I know.

Isabella, I'm still here and you are still there. I miss you, miss you like crazy and then some. You are always with me, in my mind, my thoughts, my actions, my heart. Loving you sweet girl, Mama

Where have the last four years gone?

2008-07-01T19:51:00.000-07:00

My dear, sweet Turkey,

Today you are officially four years old. I can only vaguely remember a time when I was not your mother, and mostly I try not to. You have made my life so much fuller and beautiful in so many ways. I can still remember the moment I found out you were growing inside of me. I waited anxiously for the test results early in the morning in early November. I remember trying to busy myself with other things in the bathroom, when all I wanted to do was stare and the test and watch for that magical second line.

Obviously, the second line was there.............
You have always been such a sweet and sensitive child. When you were a baby you loved to be held, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Not much has changed.....although holding now isn't quite as easy as it once was. I have spent every day with you, watching you grow into the most wonderful little man. You have been through so much in your short life, more than anyone should have to endure and you have come through it with ease, much to your daddy and I's amazement.

There are times when you remind me so much of myself, it makes me catch my breath. Then you show your daddy's traits and I relax a little. You are funny beyond your years and often make me cry with your constant hilarity. Your comic timing is genius.

You have the most magical love for music and I am so excited to see where that love takes you. I hope you do more with it then I did, because I will always regret not sticking with my first love. You already have an adult taste for tunes, your favorites are Journey, Heart and Parliament. Classics. Like you. All I have to do is turn on "Give up the Funk" and you are dancing and singing away like it is the most natural thing in the world. And it is. Who needs a backseat DVD player when you have music man.........

Your sensitivity is something that worries me for your future. You have such a heavy dose of it; a lot from me and even more from your daddy. I have had to teach myself over the years to not be so sensitive and my heart aches already for all the pain you will endure over the years because of it. I hope you learn to control it someday, but never totally lose it. You will be hurt by other kids, by the girls, by me. Hopefully most of it will not be intentional, but merely a result of your sensitive nature.
You are a rockin' big brother, a total natural. When we had Isabella you never batted an eye. You were never jealous of her or the attention I had to give her. Through her illnesses, her struggles and my own battles, you stayed strong and caring, but never jealous. You seemed to sense that things were not well with your little sister and you were always so gentle and loving to her. You loved to just hold her and she loved it too. You love Rollie Pollie just as much, perhaps even more since you are older and more knowing. You have enjoyed watching him grow in the normal way. Hey, at least when you take a toy from him, you always offer to replace it. Heh.

Every day it seems you grow a little more, mature a little more and learn a little more. You love to be outside and could happily spend hours sans clothes running in the grass, playing in the mud. You are a true Daddy's Boy and light up the minute he comes home from work. When you were just a toddling baby you and I would wait for him to get home and your short, chubby legs would carry you to his truck where he would sweep you up and let you "drive" in the driveway. You still love to do that today. You have a very special bond with your Daddy and it makes my heart swell just thinking of it.

I hope you always know just how much we both love you, and how happy we are that we had you. You are a true miracle and everyday you are in my life is a better, sweeter day. I hope your childhood is filled with magic and wonder and that you never forget where you came from.
I love you sweet Turkey, you light up my life...........Happy 4th Birthday......you are the one and only ever YOU.

Love, Mama

It's been a while.........

2008-06-16T19:31:00.000-07:00

I have been on my death bed. Well, not really, but I definitely felt like I was. Somehow I contracted pneumonia of all things and spent the better part of last week feeling like I was dying. (or wishing I was.....) It sucked. Big time.

So, husband and I have changed our minds and we are not going to move. Yet. We will definitely move next Spring, we just decided that now wasn't the right time. Husband will likely be switching jobs next spring, making a lot more money (please, God) and we may have a CITY change or possibly a STATE change in the mix. So we wait. I feel good about it, husband feels good about it, so there you have it. No move. It sucks because we got our house ready to list, moved some stuff out (yeah, really) and even packed some shiz. Damn! Oh well. I'm not un-packing any of it by the way. If I need, I will just fish it out of storage.........NOT dragging it all back out. Makes me shiver just thinking about it.

I have had such a wonderful, welcome peace about Isabella these days. It's so strange to me......I had begun to wonder if I would ever not feel totally devastated by my loss. If I would ever feel joy again. I think I will. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I have just had a lot of revelations recently and I believe God is finally showing me bits and pieces of the "big picture". I mean, Hello? It's about time.

I had some time to think last week (while I was dying in bed for four days and not writhing in agony.......drama much?) and while I was thinking I had this feeling come over me. It's hard for me to explain, and this may sound totally whack-a-doo, but I got this pneumonia out of nowhere. Nobody around me had been ill, I had felt totally fine and WHAM! I was just knocked flat. I have never had pneumonia in my life and while I suffered (because you should know that my insurance was canceled LAST MONTH and I get new insurance NEXT MONTH....so naturally I should almost die like, NOW..........the hell?) this "voice" just spoke inside of me and said "this is a slice of what Isabella went through and what she would have continued to go through if she had lived on." Whoa. Big Whoa. It was like an "A-Ha" moment I guess. I have been torturing myself this last year, wishing Isabella was still here, tricking my mind into thinking she could have lived longer and been healthy. Yes, I truly believe my suffering last week was intentional so that I could see through my sweet girl's eyes what her life would have been like. What her last pneumonia was like. All I can say is, thank goodness she went home when she did. He life was short, yes. But it was so full of love every single day she lived. Her suffering was short.......and I want to be happy for her now. I want to rejoice in the fact that she is living the most beautiful and wonderful existence with her Creator. Her days are perfect and joyful. I know I will get to live that life with her someday, just not yet. I cannot begin to understand why she was born with her condition and why she died when she did, but I have to remain faithful. I have been struggling with this for months and once again, I am coming full circle. I always come back to God, every time, without fail. He has spoken to me and I am still......and listening. Isabella is happy now, free and loving every minute of it. She does not miss me and I have to be OK with that.

Of course, this recent development in my emotional journey does not make me think I'm suddenly "OK" with things or "moving on". I'm simply beginning to make peace with myself, with God and with my life path. I'm certain that I will always carry the grief of losing Isabella with me, it will just be different with each passing year. Life isn't always what you make it, I've learned.......sometimes, or maybe a lot of the times, it just happens. Then you get to decide how you will tackle it. I'm a head on kind of gal I guess......

I'm just starting to feel good again, I'm not 100 percent by a long shot, but thankfully I am not dying. I mean really, I side stepped at least 3 illnesses this last winter when everyone else in my house was sick and then June rolls around, everyone is healthy and pneumonia??? This world is beyond what I can understand, truly. ]

But you know, that once my new insurance kicks in I'll be totally healthy again for years. Figures!

It's almost over

2008-05-31T20:25:00.001-07:00

and I survived. Again. I'm starting to wonder just what it is I'm made of? Something pretty darn tough, whatever it is.

It (the anniversary) wasn't as horrible as I had thought it would be. Her birthday was a lot harder and that surprised me I guess. Nobody called us today and nobody remembered. (except you wonderful internet friends! I wish I could scoop you all up and have you here!) Unfortunately husband and I have come to expect this from our (un-supportive) family. But that topic deserves it's own post, really. I have some real anger issues with our family members as of late........

Husband said something in the car today that really struck me and totally helped me limp a little easier through this day. He said that in all actuality today was a good day for Isabella last year. We are the ones left suffering, but hers is truly over. He even quipped that in Heaven they probably celebrate the day they died, rather than their Earthly birth. I wonder if he's right....? Whatever the case, it sure gave me some peace of mind and really opened up a different view for me. I can get pretty caught up in my loss.

So today we celebrated her. We had a picnic at the cemetery, (sounds morbid, but it wasn't I promise) we brought new flowers for her vase (both real and artificial, pink of course) and a pinwheel from Turkey. I shocked myself and didn't cry. Or sob. I just had a sense of peace and being carried through today. It was a nice change of pace for sure. I really feel like Isabella was with me today.....I felt her holding my heart more than once almost whispering "I'm happy now Mama, don't cry for me, be happy that I'm free now." I know that is what she wants. I just struggle to get there on a daily basis.

I busied myself throughout the day with things around the house and hugged both my boys a thousand times and kissed them a million. I really love those stinkers and they deserve a present and clear mama. I'm working on it........... Again, I know in my heart is what Isabella would want for us.

I tried to not focus on her death today and the time that she died last May completely slipped by me, as I was lost in bathing, singing, hugging and kissing goodnight, my two sweet boys. I think today I made some real progress in my grief and it's ironic how it's been exactly one year. One whole year and I just might start to put my life back together.

It's as though, I can breathe again. A little anyways.

As the years pass, I know this will get easier. In a way that relieves me, but also makes my heart sad.........to know that I will eventually not think of her in every moment. I will get caught up again in life and find joy once more and the sadness will lift. I know this is *good*, but it comes with a price. Just like everything in life, this is no exception.

To my sweet Isabella: Like your Daddy said today, you are rejoicing in your new life today. You are free of your body and all its suffering. You breathe freely, you laugh, you run. Everyday is a happy day for you, surrounded by love with Jesus and I am happy for you my darling. Although not a moment goes by where my heart does not ache for you, I am reminded that you are now so beautiful and at peace, in a way you could have never bee on Earth. I see you in your brothers everyday and my heart sings and cries at the same time. Please watch over your brothers, especially Turkey. He misses you so much and speaks of you daily. His heart is broken too and I know you can hold his like you hold mine. I cannot even imagine the beauty you possess in Heaven and I cannot wait to feel your tiny hand in mine once again and feel the warmth of your embrace. We may not be together as a family here on Earth, but I have no doubt that our day will come in Heaven and our family will be complete again. I love you and miss you terribly. Thank you for helping me today...........

Waiting it out

2008-05-28T13:16:00.000-07:00

For the record, I have no idea why in my previous post, the last half is teeny-tiny print. I've tried to fix it a million different ways and I give up. YOU SUCK BLOGGER.

So, the anniversary. It's Saturday, did I mention that? Yeah, three days away. One year. One whole year without her. I cannot even wrap my mind around it really. Some days my life with almost seems like a beautiful, yet nightmarish dream. Other days it was if I just had her in my arms just yesterday. I was just crushing 8 different medications and feeding her all her thickened bottles of formula. It's been a long time though........a whole year, remember?

I thought I was going to make it through this week OK, I thought I was handling it well. I was wrong. I've started I don't know how many fights with Husband over stupid, asinine things. I've been a real snapping turtle with Turkey, and haven't been able to discern why I feel so plain awful. Oh yeah, my daughter died. That's it........

I find myself spacing out, getting dizzy for no reason, crying randomly and earnestly. Oh and lets not forget eating.......because that is my solution for dead-child-syndrome. FOOD. Man, I'm a psych doc's dream.

It probably doesn't help that we are in the midst of trying to find and buy a new house. Part of me is so excited for this, because hey, who doesn't like a new house? But of course, part of me is horribly, terribly sad, because this is the house where Isabella lived.................and died. What do I do with that? Of course, I can't stay here forever unfortunately. We were actually looking for a new house right after Isabella was born and then the seizures started and well, you know the end to that story.

I know she's not here in this house and it's not like if we move she'll stay or here or something crazy like that. It will just be very hard to sell this house to a new family and not ever come back. I don't even like thinking about it.

A year ago today Husband and I decided it was Isabella's time to go home. It wasn't an agonizing decision, it didn't take hours of screaming and crying like I had pictured in my mind so many times. I had spoken with her doctor over the phone early that morning while Husband, my mom and Isabella's hospice nurse sat by waiting. I'll never forget that conversation. I had just told him that the antibiotics had not changed anything for our girl and that she was in fact, three days later still running a very high temperature and no amount of motrin/tylenol would stop it. She had stopped sucking first and shortly thereafter stopped swallowing. We were at a loss. Why now? What changed in her brain? More importantly what do we *do*.

He said to me "Michelle, we can always put her in the hospital, put her on an IV antibiotic. That's an option. But, since she cannot suck or swallow any longer and her SATS are so low (oxygen) you know what will happen." He paused. I paused and then said "You mean, a feeding tube, a ventilator, etc, etc, etc." "Yes" he replied. He continued, "I know how you and Husband feel about that sort of stuff for Isabella, so I just want you to consider everything." I sat there for about 30 seconds and said simply, matter-of-factly, "It's time isn't it? We won't be taking her to the hospital." He just said "OK then, let me know what you need, when you need it."

That was that. I had just decided that I would not save my daughter's life. I would let her die.

It simply goes against the laws of nature to make a choice like that. And I guess I don't have to tell you it was not an easy choice. If I had been selfish and thought of only myself, I would have had her at the hospital in 10 minutes. But I knew in my heart what she wanted from us as a family, what she would ask for if she could have. I wanted to ignore what my heart was telling me, but I couldn't.

I will struggle with this choice for the rest of my life on Earth. Every.single.day. Not in the sense that I regret it, or think I made the "wrong" choice. But just in the sense that now that I know what life is like without her, I wish I would have been more selfish and forced her to stay alive. I know that's awful, but I can't help but feel that way now. It was a lot easier to let her go when I didn't know how painful it would be living my life without her.

I have to remind myself of her suffering. I hate thinking about it, but I have to. Otherwise I get caught up in this fantasy of having a thriving daughter and completely forgetting what her life would have really been like had she not died. At this point she would be totally bedridden and I would not have the time to feed her 6 times a day and hold her all day. She would get all of her feeds through a tube. She would have been in and out of the hospital all winter, because every little cold Turkey got would have been full blown, life threatening pneumonia for her. I would have a busy 4 year old and a healthy 7 month old and a very disabled little girl. I would have finally had to cave and hire help and that would have killed me. When she was here I would hardly ever let anyone help me, she was MY daughter and she needed ME. I was very selfish with my time with her and I will never regret that.

I miss her and the thing that bothers me the most is wishing I could watch her grow up. Wondering if that was my only chance to have a girl and I came thisclose and it slipped away. My life on Earth seems so long and lonely now without her. Yes I love my two sweet boys and my Husband, but I will never have that piece of my heart back. Nothing can replace what is missing now.

I told Husband last night, while I was hysterically crying that all I want is "for Isabella to be here and to not have Lissencephaly." At some point I have to accept that it isn't going to happen. This isn't a really bad dream, this is my life.

I miss you sweet Isabella, more than you know thank goodness. I know everyday for now is ten times more beautiful than it could be on Earth. I know you are surrounded by warmth and love every minute of every day. We will be together again someday and God has promised to keep you little for me so I can raise you in Heaven when I get there. I cannot wait to see your first smile at me and hear you say my name. To watch you dance and run and hear your sweet laugh. I know I will have to wait a while, but it will be so worth it. I love you so much baby girl, I hope you know it. We are always thinking of you and talking about you, but I'm sure you know that. Turkey asks about you almost everyday still and always wants to hear stories about you. He still has some great memories of you that he'll always cherish I know. We know that wherever we go, you will follow. You will always be a part of our family........death can never change that. I love you , I love you, I love you.

Thank God I'm breastfeeding

2008-05-21T19:28:00.000-07:00

Or I would be drunk as a skunk every.single.night right now. Just to numb this damn pain. I'm so tired of feeling so sad, so lost, so EMPTY. Oh and let's not leave out poor neglected ANGRY. Yeah, 'cause I'm that too. I'm a lot of things unfortunately and none of them are good at this time.

On the 31st it will have been one year. ONE YEAR WITHOUT MY DAUGHTER. One year without holding her, smelling her, kissing her, feeding her, medicating her, suctioning her, and loving her. Well, of course I still love her, but not in the same physical sense. You know what I mean. Or not.

You know I realized something recently and it broke my heart all over again. One night, I watched this movie ("P.S. I love you", and yes I cried my damn eyes out) and there is this part where the main character realizes that "he's gone, she can't feel him anymore" and I lost it. Because that's just it lately. I don't "sense" her or whatever anymore. For a long time after Isabella died I still felt her in this house and we had some pretty strange things occur that I believe were all Isabella. But lately something had changed and I just couldn't put my finger on it.....but there it was. She is really gone now. I fucking hate that.

I really lost it the night I realized that. I wandered the house just trying to "feel" her.....anywhere. I got nada, zip, zilch. Husband says "that's a good thing". I mean, I guess? Yeah, yeah, I want her in Heaven and to be happy and care-free, but what about me??? What am I supposed to do without her?

Be happy? Move ON?

I just can't do that it seems. Or at least I am really struggling with that. I feel this tremendous guilt at even thinking of "moving on" (which really, how does one do that after burying a child, I'm curious?) I'm probably a little scared as well. Scared to be happy, to feel unafraid again. What if something else happens? I mean, I'd like to think Isabella filled my "dead child" quota for this life, but somehow I don't think that's how it works. I've heard some pretty sad stuff.

I feel like I am not being a good mom these days. I snap, I yell, I curse, I ignore. Not all at once.........well usually not all at once. I hate acting like that, but I feel a little out of control I must admit and I don't know how to handle all this shit. I have these two beautiful boys right here in front of me and all I want to do is mourn the one that died. I just want to lay in bed and cry and yell and sleep. Oh, blessed sleep. But I don't get to do that. I can't decide if that is a good thing or not.

And then there is the actual D-Day. (That's death date to you mere mortals). How do we handle that? Do we lock ourselves inside away from the world and sob our eyes out? Do we celebrate her life? Are we even capable of that? What do we do????? Really, I'm open to suggestions here. I'm at a loss.....this is my first time and all.

So here I sit. Struggling in my battle once again. Maybe at some point things will be on a long upswing........at least I hope so.

I'm off to bed to get some sleep or what I like to call "not sleep because I'm breast feeding my teething 6 month old all frackin' night long." Damn I'm tired!

I survived

2008-05-13T19:51:00.001-07:00

Mothers Day that is. It started out pretty rough, but I got a grip and enjoyed the rest of the day. I decided it simply wasn't fair to sit around and mope (OK, sob my eyes out) when my two boys need me and want me so badly.

It's such a delicate balance, to have healthy children living on and a child that is gone. I can't really explain with words what it feels like have aching arms, when they are in fact full. It's surreal and part of my baggage I guess.

So, Mothers Day. Dear, sweet husband started my day off right with flowers (picked out by Turkey himself!) and belgian waffles with sausage. Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm. I ate said breakfast while lounging (yes, LOUNGING, egads!) in bed watching a total make-any-man-puke-full-on-chick-flick! It was bliss. True bliss. I then lounged MORE while Rollie Pollie napped and breastfed, napped and breastfed for TWO HOURS. Whoa. I know.

Then I got up. The end. Oh, just kidding. We went to the cemetery and it wasn't bad at all.......I'll talk more about that at a later time. I ate insane amounts of delicious and uber fattening foods and it was good. I had a wonderful day with my sweet family. I really do love my family, in spite of everything....I love them a lot.

Turkey told me about one thousand and fifty times that I was the "best mama ever!" and the "prettiest mama ever!" and "Happy Mothers Day Mama!". What a stinker.

Oh and the best Mothers Day gift of all? Rollie Pollie has said his first word............"Mama". I have waited since Turkey to hear another one of my children utter my name. I would have given a million dollars to hear Isabella's sweet voice say it. Alas, I will have to wait for that one. But Rollie Pollie is just as good :) We are surprised that he is "talking" so early, but he comes by it naturally! Now, whenever I leave the room I get "Mama! Mama! Mamamamamamama" (shortly followed by wails of despair because I've been gone long enough to pee.)

Oh baby!

OK, that's it. It's over. Big sigh. Big, long, sigh. On to the next dreaded date. We'll see.

Mothers Day is not my Favorite Day

2008-05-05T14:50:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, we received the worst news imaginable three days before Mothers Day. That weekend was so foggy and emotional for me. I had just been handed this disorder and had no idea how to handle it. To say I was depressed would be putting it very mildly. My mom had come over and shoved me out the door with Turkey to spend some time with him and try to enjoy "My Day". Right.

So I robotically (is that a word?) took Turkey to the park to play (It was a beautiful day) and it was an awful experience. As I looked around at the busy park I couldn't help but notice all the joy...the sheer happiness everyone was exuding. Except for me. All these people and their shiny perfect lives, healthy kids, celebrating and rejoicing. Except for me. I spent the entire time crying behind my sunglasses and faking smiles and "hello's". I was beyond miserable. Trapped in a world I never imagined. My life had just been shattered and here I was at the freaking park.

I wanted to enjoy Turkey and take solace in the fact that I had him, but I wasn't ready for that yet. I wouldn't be ready for a while longer. I mean, seriously, it had been three days. Not even close to enough time to process things. I hated Mothers Day.

Last year was a little better. Isabella was on a huge up-swing and Husband had said I could lay like broccoli in bed all day and watch chick flicks. Around 10 am he brought Isabella in the room and said he was about to lay her down for her nap and I said "give her to me, let's see if she'll sleep with me in bed". This may not sound entirely unusual, but for Isabella it was. She hated to be "cuddled" most of the time and preferred laying all alone in a nice bed. I cuddled her up next to and you know what? She slept. Like an angel. Like a normal baby would. She cuddled with me for two whole hours just she and I. I stopped watching the movie and instead stared at her.....studied her.....took her in. Maybe my heart knew the end was soon? Who knows, but two weeks later I suddenly lost her and I was so grateful for that moment in time.

With Mothers Day quickly approaching I'm feeling very heavy and of course, sad. I have my two healthy, wonderful boys of course, but I would be lying to you if I said that was enough. I'm greedy like that I suppose. It's not enough. I want Isabella here too.......it's the only thing I want for Mothers Day. The impossible gift.

So for the rest of my life, Mothers Day will also be the same time of year as Isabella's death. Perfect. I will always have to fake a smile and pretend I'm OK for my living, healthy children, but below the surface, I will be crying, wishing my baby girl was here to celebrate this day with me. Like I said, I'm greedy.

Not all Mothers have everything they want on Mothers Day. Some of us are left aching, yearning for something more.

And yes, I am of course grateful for my two healthy boys. I am still blessed and all that. I just don't have everything I should. That's entitlement you smell and I make no apologies for it. I never will either.

I hope every mother who reads this has a wonderful day and I hope you have all of your children with you to hold and love.

I knew the day would come

2008-05-03T19:49:00.000-07:00

When I would hear a mother call her daughter's name, and it would be "Isabella". Last week Rollie Pollie had his 6 month check up (he's doing fabulous by the way) and I was standing at the counter filling out more paper work (yea!) because the office has a new computer system. So I'm standing there, minding my business and what do I hear? Three.little.words.

"Isabella come here please!"

A mammoth sized lump immediately lodges itself inside my throat and I look. I have to look. I don't want to look at this Isabella-girl, but I have to. To see. Does she look like MY Isabella? She was in fact, there for her 2 year check up. Perfect. Great. Wonderful. Praise Jesus, she didn't look a darn thing like my angel, I was at least spared that much. But still. A sweet, two year old Isabella running around, talking, smiling, laughing, playing, throwing a beautiful temper tantrum. I glimpse of what I could have. What I should have, but do not. Can not. Will not have. That sucks.

I somehow managed to pull myself together, and NOT cry hysterically at the front desk. I even managed to tell this other Isabella's mother where I got my sling when she asked......without a freak out. One down, a million to go I guess, right?

Well, I'm officially in the "death date month". Yipee. Much to my surprise it hasn't been as horrible as I had dreaded. The birthday was awful, awful, crappy, terrible.......so maybe this won't be as hard. I can only hope. Two months of emotional over-eating, crying, yelling, no sleeping, agonizing over every detail of her death can't be good for me? Right?

Yes, I agonize over her death. Incessantly. Unhealthily. Every detail. Every decision. Everything. Sometimes I just lay in bed and can't turn the horror movie in my mind off. I want to, but I can't. I can still see her..........dying in my arms. I can still hear the awful sound the last of her breath made when it was over. Over for her, but not for me. I can still hear my own screams and cries when she left me.

I will tell you the most difficult part of the night Isabella died. This is something that haunts me and I'm afraid it always will, because I have never had to do something so incredibly difficult in all of my life and I pray like hell that I will never have to do it again. After Isabella took her last breath, I held her....and so did Husband. Family and friends slowly left the room, our Pastor came by to say a prayer over our family and I held her. For as long as I could. I know we were lucky to have her pass in our home (if you can consider any part of my story "lucky" that is) and I am grateful for that small part. I was able to hold her as long as I wanted........to a point anyways. I know she passed away around 8 pm that night......and the last time I saw her sweet face was sometime after 11 pm. Our hospice nurse, who had become one of my good friends, came in and told me whenever I was "ready" they would make "the call". "The Call" was to the funeral home. I sat in bed, holding my sweet girl, wrapped in my favorite pink blanket not wanting to ever make "The Call". When was I ever going to be ready? I mean, really? Not ever.

So I finally told her to make "The Call" and I waited. I cried. I waited. When he got there I was just beside myself. I was crying uncontrollably in front of who knows.......I didn't care. I vaguely remember someone saying "let it out Michelle, it's OK" and boy did I. I just couldn't believe I was sitting in my living room on a Thursday night holding my dead daughter. Just sitting there. It was beyond surreal.

I can't remember the man's name who came to get her, but I will always remember his compassion and the delicate way he handled us.......and Isabella. I didn't know what to expect, I had never done this whole child-died-in-my-house-what-comes-next-thing. He came in a black Suburban and asked us for Isabella's car seat. He wanted to take our precious girl in her carseat to the funeral home.

I can barely type this you should know.

I was so appreciative that he didn't want to just lay her in the back, because of course she was not just a dead body to us. She was still my Princess. None of it seemed real to me. The whole evening was like an out of body experience. Truly it was as though I was watching it, not living it. I couldn't be living this nightmare you see, not me. It just doesn't happen to people like me. Only others.

So I put my Princess, my Isabella in her car seat. I buckled her in just like I would have on any other day. I was hysterical of course and furious and devastated and a million other things. At point, and this is God's honest truth, I almost took her and got in my car. I don't know where I was going to take her, but I just couldn't let someone take her from me. I couldn't handle the idea of truly never touching her again. Never holding her again. It was over and I wasn't ready. Isabella was ready......she wanted to fly, to play, laugh. Letting go of her soul was so much easier than letting go of her body.

Husband and I held each other as we watched the man drive away with our baby. Our daughter. That moment is forever etched in my mind. Like I said, it haunts me and tortures me. For how long, who knows......

After that, family slowly trickled out and we were left alone. The silence was deafening. I stayed up very late that night putting a montage together of her life, our life, working so diligently to get it right. To make it perfect. Like her.

The next few days and months are all pretty blurry after that. At her funeral two days later I was an empty shell of person on shock mode. I smiled, I waved, I hugged....but I was empty. I was not there. I had checked out. I do remember coming home from the funeral and collapsing on the couch and crying uncontrollably until I fell asleep.

I miss her. I miss her so much it hurts......I ache to touch her, to hold her, to simply smell her. Just once.

What I would give of myself, my life to just see her happy and healthy. To watch her dance, smile, laugh or wave. To hear her call me "mama". Anything.

I will have to wait and try to understand God's plan for my life and for hers.............that sounds so simple, but let me tell you, it is not. Or easy. Or fun.

My sweet darling girl, I miss you every moment of this life. I will always think of you on bright, sunny, breezy days, the days you loved the most on this Earth. I hope everyday in Heaven is just like that for you. I cannot wait for our family to be together as one in Heaven and to be a Forever Family. I know you are watching over us everyday, I can feel it. I love you forever sweet Princess.

a contest

2008-04-30T05:55:00.000-07:00

Win a Free Ergo Baby Carrier from Along for the Ride

If you think about it, go enter in this contest! It's to win a FREE Ergo baby carrier, the creme de la creme of baby carriers! I want one sooooo bad I can taste it. There are so many stinkin' benefits to babywearing, I could never name just one. If you don't wear your baby, you SHOULD! They will love you for it. Plus you can actually get some work done if you do (but you didn't hear that from me.) Ahem.

Happy Wednesday!

On to the next dreaded day.......

2008-04-25T19:30:00.000-07:00

As if the birthday wasn't bad enough, I now get to dread D-Day. That's death date to you. This time last year Isabella was just getting over her first big pneumonia and we were all breathing a huge sigh of relief. I had spent two long weeks holding her limp, weak body all day and stayed up with her all night. Yes, for two weeks I maybe slept 24 hours TOTAL, while newly pregnant. I'm feeling tired just remembering it. It was rough.....to say the least. As a result I also came down with a wicked case of bronchitis. Laying in bed all night, holding your sick baby will do that to you. I remember laying in Jackson's bed with her, watching her fight for every breath. Adjusting and re-adjusting her nasal cannula, suctioning her out with that awful machine and praying. Lots of praying. We ran her through three antibiotics in those two weeks. Yes three. I gave her morphine for the first time and I was so terrified.

Our hospice nurse had walked me through it, but since she only needed the morphine at night to slow her respirations down, I had to do it alone. Solo. All by myself. I remember giving her the first dose, saying a quick prayer and watching the pulse ox with wide, frozen eyes for one hour straight without flinching. Waiting. Watching. Waiting. Watching. You get the idea. I watched her heart rate drop pretty dramatically at first....held my breath and it maintained. Praise Jesus! She would not die because of the drug I gave her.......ohthankyouthankyouthankyou. I miss her. Even during those nights, I miss her. I know she wouldn't want to relive that moment of time, but I would if it's all I could have. In a minute I'd do again. I poured every ounce of myself into her and I wouldn't change a damn thing.

I had no idea as Isabella turned that corner and suddenly beat the pneumonia that in a month I would bury her. Just as I had no idea as I gave birth to her, that I would bury her 14 months later. That this disorder, this monster would tear our lives apart. Have I ever mentioned that I really hate, hate, hate Lissencephaly? I do.

It's funny because after the pneumonia Isabella did so much better. It was like a cloud had been lifted, she was so alert and happy and clear. She even ate her last month of life and drank juice! She drank juice I tell you! And I am happy to tell you she ate one single STRAWBERRY. Yes siree she did! (I'm telling you I was so excited the afternoon she ate a strawberry I just about called CNN, but decided it wasn't *that* major....almost, but not quite.)

I seem to get more and more distraught about her death as time passes and that puzzles me. I don't know if that is "normal" or whatever, but I think it has something to do with the fact that as time passes I begin to forget her suffering. I just remember her sweet face, her smell and holding her. Oh and of course feeding her....I spent many hours doing that. So I think my heart is so sad because I don't remember her daily seizures and the breathing and the arching and the and the and the. Her breathing was awful....truly terrible. I couldn't take her anywhere without someone asking "is she OK?" "Does she always breathe like that?" "Oh my! Is she sick??" (as they shield their kids as to avoid her disease) No. That's just how she sounded. Everyday. Awful I know. Actually I don't fracking know. I'll probably never know how she felt. What it was like for her. I probably won't suffer a fraction of what she endured on this earth. My sweet angel, my baby girl.

My mind knows it was for the best......my heart just can't figure it out. It's slower to grasp things I guess. My heart wants her back so badly......even despite her suffering. My heart is terribly selfish and would take her back and make her continue to suffer this very instant just so my heart could love her again. My heart is missing a big piece right now, and can you blame my heart for wanting that piece back? My heart just doesn't want to believe that the missing piece will not be put back for a very long time. My heart is stubborn and just won't let go.

I love you and miss you sweet Isabella and I cannot believe it's been almost a whole year since I have held you and kissed you and whispered "goodnight sweet angel" as I laid you down to sleep in your beautiful pink haven. Every part of me aches for you and misses you. You were an amazing little girl and you did so much for so many in your short life. Your spirit lives on in myself, your daddy and your amazing brothers. We will never forget you.........

I'm still here and have a lot to write about

2008-04-24T20:25:00.000-07:00

Rollie Pollie is a teething mess. Really. Truly. Teething. Mess. My sweet, adorable, goofy, smiling boy has been replaced by a screaming, crying, thrashing, never sleeping cranky pants. Waah! Someone pass the Motrin. And Vodka. Oh just kidding! I'm breast feeding for crying out loud! In fact, with this dang teething, I'm breast feeding a lot and the chewing/biting isn't my fave. I don't really think I even have nipples anymore.....at least not nipples that I can feel. Oh, you just wanted to know that didn't you??

We went to the Zoo today and it was the most miserable experience there yet! I should have just turned around the car when I saw the loooooong lines, the hoards of children and school buses. But no, I persevered, I dug my heels in and said "We ARE GOING TO THE ZOO TODAY!" It sucked. Kids everywhere. I love kids, I do. I just don't love 5 million, bazillion, gatrillion kids at the zoo. Especially when I have a three year old who was up late the night before, awoke early this morning, decided to skip breakfast and throw temper tantrums the first hour of the trip. I swear, he was possessed and I almost called a priest. Instead I bought him some french fries and it worked better than any holy water. Ah, my sweet boy was back. By then I'd had enough though and we left....which you would think would end the horrible day, but oh no, we were just getting started!

In the car Rollie Pollie started screaming about 2 seconds into the 30 minute trip home and screamed the ENTIRE way. And by screaming, I don't just mean, baby crying, I mean screaming.....choking screaming.....gagging screaming.....rip yo mama's heart out and make her crave a valium screaming.

So we get home. Rollie Pollie is all better as soon as I get him out of his torture chair of doom (aka the car seat) and we go inside. Ah, that's better. Right? You should know by now the answer to that....

We haven't even been home for 5 minutes, 5 MINUTES and what happens you ask? I'll tell you! Turkey somehow trips and do you want to know what breaks his fall? I'll tell you! His freakin' HEAD slamming onto the coffee table. That's what broke his fall. Frickety, Frackerty, Frack! So I put Kingston down (yeah, still holding my teething monster, hello! he doesn't like to be set down!) pick Turkey up, who incidentally is now screaming his head off, look at him and see a giant gash under his chin and it's bleeding like there is no tomorrow. Grrrrreat. Of course I feel awful and comfort him and clean him up. I call my mom the nurse, she rushes over with dermabond (oooo did she swipe that from the hospital.....???) and then oh, then, we get to hold Turkey (who is no longer "turkey" but a wild, thrashing cougar) down and glue his chin back together. OMG. Let me say that one more time. OMG. Somewhere in the mix Husband showed up for lunch, helped me (thank God!) and we got Turkey all calmed down. As for all the therapy he'll need in his thirties, well, I just can't help that. Did I mention it was like seriously freaking nap time when all this shiz went down?? Well it was. Oy vey!

I'm just glad the day is over. Amen!

A step.....

2008-04-12T19:52:00.000-07:00

Today we took a step. A baby step. We moved our computer and desk out of the den and into Isabella's old room. And I didn't breakdown. Not once. I actually feel really OK with it and nice. Right now, as I type, I am sitting in the dark, drinking a nice cold beer (it's heaven on earth I tell you) and blogging in my sweet girls room. I like it, it's peaceful. Her room has never been off limits since she passed away. I have the diaper changing table in here still for the sole purpose having a reason to come in her every single day, several times a day. In the early days after Isabella passed away it made my heart very heavy to come in here, but now I find peace. I decorated her room with such love, it still means something to me and to husband. I can see the bouquet of dried roses from her funeral hanging on the wall. A plate I made for her that was a gift her first Christmas....I wrote "Isabella: A real life Princess" on it. I can see a hook with the only hat I ever bought for her hanging from it....she never wore it, she hated for her head to be touched....I mean, really hated it. In her crib is the only toy she ever showed any interest in, it's a green lizard thing from Baby Einstein. She knocked it over a handful of times ON PURPOSE, which was freakin' huge for her. No child of mine will ever play with that. Period. There are about a million different little things that say "Princess" on them in here. I realize that a lot people in this world refer to their daughters as "Princess", but I don't care. To me, it's only meant for my sweet Isabella. Every morning when I heard Isabella stirring in her crib I would open the door and in my best sing-song voice I would say "Good morning Princess!". She loved that. So did I.

Of course, we've had several family members ask us when we are going to "change" it, I guess they mean take her bed down and get rid of all signs of her living here with us. Well guess what? We're not going to....maybe not ever. What do you think of that family? As it turns out, we don't care what you think. Ironically enough, nobody else in either of our families has ever lost a child. Not one. Husband and I get to be the first. Lucky us. Now we're kind of like lepers....and everyone has advice for us on what they think we should do. How we should be handling this loss. You know what? If you are reading this and you've never lost a child (thank your lucky stars by the way, for you are indeed lucky) if you ever happen to meet someone who has or will someday, please, please, please keep your mouth shut and offer support. That's it. Maybe send one of those cards that says something poetic about God and his "plan", but don't offer "words of wisdom"...chances are your wisdom will be misguided and hurtful even though it's not your intention. One of these days I'll get all ranty and write down my list of things you should never, ever say to parents experiencing a tragedy. Oh, how I could go on. I could write a book I tell you. Maybe I will. It will be called "oh shut up already!" I'm kidding. No I'm not.

So I like our new "office"/Isabella's room. It's not bad. And now the den is devoted entirely to toy mayhem. Turkey is in looooove. Gosh I love that silly boy. He's taken to saying "butt-hole" lately. He put two and two together and thinks he invented the word. Hm. I can't help it, it's so darn hilarious when he says it. I'm terrible, I know. I try to be a good mom and not encourage naughty behavior, but I have such a morbid sense of humor and an almost four year old saying "Oh my butt-hole itches!" is hi-lar-i-ous, no matter how you slice it folks! And I mean really, you can't get more literal than "butt-hole", it's a hole in your butt for crying out loud! I haven't said "butt-hole" since I was like, I don't know, TEN or something so he didn't hear it from me. Unfortunately he's more likely to hear something worse than that out of my mouth....like I said, I'm terrible.

So there you have it, I went from my sweet girl, to my potty mouthed little boy in two seconds flat. That's how my mind works.......really.

Isabella, I love you so much and I know you are always with us. We think of constantly and you will never be replaced or forgotten. I love you baby girl. Take care of your brothers, they love you so much (especially that Turkey). Goodnight my Princess.

The paper bag puppet wasn't such a good idea I guess

2008-04-11T19:13:00.000-07:00

OK, so the other day it was raining cats and dogs where we live......which is lovely unless you have a 3 year old little boy who is climbing the walls and it's only 8:21 am. So I rummaged through our craft shelf and found these leftover paper bags and thought "ooo, we can make some silly little puppets, Turkey will love that!" (Aren't I just the most creative, most awesome mom?) Actually I'm just a desperate mom....

So, I explain to Turkey how we are going to make our puppets and he is very excited (thank goodness, right? not all of my ideas are so well accepted) I make a puppet for myself with curly crazy hair (a certain rollie pollie has left me no time for my soul mate aka the CHI) and Turkey laughs and decides to make one that is him. We have fun for a while and then he says: "hey, I want you to make one for sister." Hm. At this point I think something along the lines of: "well, I don't really want to do that, but he does......shit." So I make a puppet for sister. How can I not? Here is where it gets interesting......and by interesting, I mean really heartbreaking. (You have been warned!)

Turkey then puts the puppet that represents himself on one hand and puts the puppet that represents Isabella on the other and has them face each other. Then he speaks. "Hi sister, I love you sooooo much" says the Turkey puppet to the sister puppet. "Let's go to the zoo sister" (he makes motions like they are walking) "Look at those hippos! And the lions! Oh, zebras, look! sister". (So at this point I am having a full on emotional break-down, INSIDE MY HEAD because I can't let Turkey see how much this pains me.) Basically Turkey went on to "play" with sister for another 20 minutes or so, doing all of his favorite real-life things with his sister via a brown paper bag. Does it get any worse? I think not. Then he said it: "Mama, I'm so glad I got to play with sister today." That's not fair. My wonderfully innocent, sweet boy has to play with his little sister by using a BROWN PAPER BAG........ WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS WORLD?

OK, I know that was harsh, but that's what I was thinking. No censor. I'm not in a good place this week. Not at all. As you can probably tell by now, right?

I know the whole paper bag thing was more than likely "theraputic" for Turkey and all that, but it just reminds me what is missing in our lives. Like I need extra reminders, Ha. Sometimes I get so caught up in MY loss, I forget that Turkey has lost his sister. It sucks.....no other way to slice it. He keeps asking me when he's going to get another sister and I just never know what to tell him. I don't make plans anymore, I realized in the harshest of ways that there is no point in making plans in this crazy world. My plans certainly didn't pan out the way I thought, so I don't want to set myself or Turkey up for more disappointment. I love that little man, I really do. I would give anything to give him another sister. He deserves it. We'll just have to see won't we?

Happy Birthday Isabella

2008-04-03T19:55:00.000-07:00

Well, the day is almost over and I survived it. There were a couple of moments I must admit where I did not want to survive, but I did. I am so thankful for you Husband (if you read this I heart you, I really do). We have this great partnership and when one of us falls apart the other is there to pick up the pieces. We traded off a few times today......... I love you honey and I couldn't do this without you!

I would bore you with the details of today, but I'm just emotionally spent and ready to wake up tomorrow and start again. I am determined to have a fun day with my other two rascals tomorrow and hopefully enjoy some spring!

To my Isabella: You are my forever girl, my sweetest angel and my heart. I love you more than words, more than my breath, more than my own life. I have faith in God that we will be reunited in Heaven again one day and that you will be complete and the whole the way you were meant to be here. I hope you danced in your pink tutu all day, breathing and loving your new life. I know you are surrounded by light, love and eternal sunshine, what more could a mama bear ask for? I love you so much and until I see you again, keep dancing sweet girl, keep dancing......

Oh and HAPPY BIRTHDAY! We love you :)

*to everyone who called me today, sent me wonderful messages and emails, and acknowledged my pain and loss without embarrassment, I love you and appreciate you more than you know. My strength is magnified by you guys! I am continually humbled by the compassion of those around me. Thank you.*

Tomorrow

2008-04-02T19:35:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow would be the day you turned two years old. Tomorrow would be the day that I would wake up and tell you all about your wonderful birth. Tomorrow would be the day we ate cake together and you opened all of your gifts (probably pink and lots of it.)

Tomorrow will be hard for us. Tomorrow there will be no gifts opened. Tomorrow I will not get to wake up and tell you about your wonderful birth. Tomorrow I will still miss you like crazy and wish with everything in me that you were here.

I love you sweet girl and I know somehow you will get us through this. Your daddy, brothers and I will celebrate your beautiful and sweet life tomorrow and try to take comfort in the small fact that we had you for a short while, instead of not at all. I miss you and take comfort in the knowledge that you are free and happy now and that someday we will be a forever family in Heaven. I will see you again someday, of that I am completely sure. I love you, I love you, I love you!!!

Your light shines on baby girl!

Love
Mama

Oh, one more thing!

2008-04-01T20:19:00.001-07:00

Isabella at her birthday party last year.......this was the only moment she opened her eyes for the whole THREE HOURS! What a stinker! And you know what? As soon as everyone left she opened those eyes and wanted to party, just she and I. What a rascal! I love you baby girl. I know this year you will be dancing away in that pink tutu of yours. I'm glad I let you take it with you.............I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart. Always.

And the countdown continues......

2008-04-01T20:00:00.001-07:00

to Isabella's birthday. Thursday is just looming ahead and looming and looming and did I mention that it's looming?? If you haven't figured out that I use a little bit of sarcastic humor to deal with my shiz.....then you just aren't the sharpest tool in the shed. Sometimes my "approach" offends people, but then you have to ask yourself "does Mama to Many care?" Indeed I do not. I am me and that is what makes me, ME man! When your sweet daughter is born with a rare and incurable horrific disorder called Lissencephaly and then dies, you can deal with it however you like. Or not deal with it. (which I don't recommend by the way.)

So the birthday. My sweet, beautiful girl. I've had a certain peace about it the last couple of days and I know it's because of her, my Isabella. I was spiraling into the depths of a deep depression the last two weeks and right when I needed it most, I felt calm again. That's her.....working her sweet girl magic on her sad broken hearted mama. Oh how I miss her sweet face, her soft smell and to die for lullaby coos. I miss our "chats" in the morning and I even miss feeding her slowly, oh how slowly, all day long.

We plan on going to the cemetery that day, because we like the cemetery where she is buried. It's truly a beautiful place and that's why we chose it. That's where 'ol husband and I will be buried (with her in between us, talk amongst yourselves about that) and hopefully not anymore of our children. I'm making the Hummingbird Cake I mentioned earlier this week, it's a southern thang ya'll, and it's delish! It's my Grandma's recipe and all her recipes are finger lickin' good! It does hold some sentimental significance of course, it's main ingredient is mashed bananas, Isabella's most favorite food. That girl wouldn't eat anything solid except mashed bananas. She would eat those with gusto! Sweet thing! So we'll take our cake out there, cry a little I'm sure, have a picnic, eat cake and release all those glorious pink balloons to her (another favorite of hers, she loved balloons!)

I really do want to try and make that day a positive one for us. Her BIRTH was amazing and joyful and nothing can erase that for us. I want to always celebrate that day, because no matter what, I did have her for 14 months. Not nearly long enough, but it's all I got. What else can I do? Except try and hold on to the small and beautiful moments of her life.

I of course am not all positivity, but I'm trying OK? I could go on and on about how I want her here, how I'm more than a little pissed at how this world works and how I keep having daydreams where Isabella is a healthy and vibrant blond haired, blue eyed princess and twirling around at her second birthday. But that wouldn't be healthy now would it?

Like I said, I'm trying. Just for you Husband, you big surly man! I love you honey-sugar-stinky-pants. (that's right, now the world knows!) I have got to, got to, GOT TO be there for my two boys. For my future child(ren) OHMYGOSHDIDIJUSTTYPETHATYESIDID.

The birthday, it is coming and I am waiting. If you are the praying type, keep me in your thoughts and prayers. I hope it's a good day and Oh, while your at it, ask the Big Guy if he could stop all this rain non-sense that is supposedly going to happen on Thursday. I mean, seriously, we deserve a break here!

Love,
Mama

Man I just can't quit writing!

2008-03-31T20:06:00.000-07:00

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

2008-03-31T09:06:00.001-07:00

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

2008-03-30T08:34:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-03-28T18:54:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-03-27T19:27:00.000-07:00

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.......

Anger is my middle name these days

2008-02-26T12:34:00.000-08:00

Seriously, I wouldn't want to meet myself in a dark alley these days. I am not the kind of gal you want to mess with. Angry, angry, angry. Angry at God, angry at family, angry at myself....just ANGRY! The tiniest thing can really set me off lately. I have not been to church since Kingston was born. I've been using him/winter/sickness as an excuse for the plain fact that I don't want to go to His house of worship right now! I am too mad at Him. I know deep down inside that going will be the best way to forgive Him and move on again, but I just can't do it. Not yet. I'm too busy being pissed off for that! I guess I just feel like this shouldn't have happened to me. I mean, of course I feel that way. Who has something like this happen to them and then think "well, I guess I had it coming....." Only the most humble of humans I guess and it ain't me! I don't think I deserved this, Isabella certainly didn't deserve her lot in life and it just plain STINKS! And I want someone to PAY!!!! I want someone, something to blame for this. My daughter should be here dammit. I should be fixing her hair every morning. I should still be making bows and shopping for cute clothes on Ebay! I should be buying dolls and dress up clothes for MY DAUGHTER instead of everyone else's. I could scream! I really could. I absolutely HATE when it's time for someone's birthday it's a girl. I don't want to buy cutesy girl stuff for YOUR daughter. Why do YOU get a healthy daughter??? Why are YOU so freaking special???? Does God love you more than me? Am I not good enough? Was Isabella not good enough??? HUH?

So clearly, I'm very angry.

Also, I'm feeling very guilty. Extremely guilty. So guilty I cried all weekend in secret and could still cry about it now. I have a secret and I feel terrible about it, I really do. For the first time since Isabella's death, I have been thinking of wanting another girl and I feel awful. I can't help it, I truly can't. I've wanted a daughter my whole life (ok, so not my *whole* life, but you get it) and I've been robbed. I still cannot believe I had a daughter and lost my daughter in 14 months. It feels like agony when I think of it. It's not fair......but I still want a daughter. Of course, I just feel like wanting a daughter still is betraying Isabella. Like saying "hey, sorry it didn't work out for you sweetie, but I'll just get a new one....." UGH. Just typing that made me want to puke. It wouldn't be like that, I know. I could have 10 girls and none of them would be Isabella. That's what really sucks........there is no replacing her....no filling that void. It will just ache for as long as I live. Nice, huh? I guess that's my lot in life. Ok, ok, I have plenty of blessings and my whole life is not over because of my sweet Isabella. Some days it just feels like it is, that's all.

So that's it. That's where I am at this day. Feeling sorry for myself and just wishing my sweet girl was here. Her 2nd birthday is approaching and I'm totally dreading it.......she would have been so beautiful and I would have given her everything she ever desired. I hope she knows that. I love you sweet girl and not a second goes by in my life on Earth that I do not think of you and yearn for you so badly my heart physically aches.

update

2008-02-16T13:36:00.001-08:00

I lost 7lbs in a week! WOOT! (and the boobies are still making the good milk!) Ok, continue with whatever you were doing..........

love,

the skinny girl (eventually)

I sure didn't see that one coming

2008-02-12T08:52:00.001-08:00

My birthday was last week.....yes I am another year older. I'm really not OLD or anything and I actually look forward to my thirties. I mean let's face it, the twenties have SUCKED. Big time. So, my birthday. Well, it was pretty awful and I just didn't expect it. I spent most of the day crying my eyes out and just having a humongous pity party. Why would I miss Isabella so much on MY birthday? I guess any type of celebration-ish day is going to make us miss her even more.

I know what got it started. I woke up that morning, stretched, smiled at my lover baby and glanced up the huge picture we have of our princess above our bed and had a very quiet thought. "I wish I could have you for my birthday." Seems simple enough I guess, but oh how it isn't simple at all. So, nothing that I was given that day really added up to what I really wanted. Bummer. Big bummer. Husband did his very best to cheer me up though and brought me a chocolate mousse cake from La Baguette. Ohmygoodnessitwassofreakingood. Yeah, I had a giant slice and it was worth every single fat gram and calorie. But of course it did nothing for my heart......... If only chocolate could fix my problems! ( I would have been fixed a long time ago if that was the case, I assure you! )

OH! Big news, big news indeed. I started my diet last week. I went ahead and joined Weight Watchers. I guess I need someone to say to me "hey, you aren't losing weight fatty, what gives?" Nothing like shame to make a girl act right. (or in this case, eat right) So I am doing really good and totally motivated. I'm not even starving! Woot! I do get a butt load of points since I am breastfeeding, which helps! OH, and in 4 days I have lost 4 pounds ! WOW! I know that seems like a lot for short amount of time, but have no fear, it will slow down. Trust me. I'm excited though and have even started walking again! Oooowee I am out of shape when walking somewhat fast makes me sore. Pathetic! My goal is to run a 5K by the end of summer and next spring do my first ever half marathon! I can't wait. Of course husband thinks I am completely crazy for wanting to run that far.....shoot, really just for wanting to run period. I don't think he has ran since that time the cops.......oh nevermind.

So that's life in a nutshell today. Tomorrow may be different, I've learned that in my young life. It only takes a moment, a mere second and it can change like you can't believe. I guess that's life though, right? I better go finish making those delish cupcakes before I wax poetic over here. (Yes I am making wonderful, homemade treats for that LOVE DAY and I'm not even going to eat any.....I promise. Maybe one. Or two.) Just kidding!

A comparison

2008-02-02T08:08:00.000-08:00

I was messing around this morning and put three pictures together of all three of my kiddos roughly around the same age in their life. Husband and I think it's pretty funny how we've turned out three different looking kids. How do those people whose kids actually look related do it?? Clearly there are some similarities, but each has their own "look". One consistent theme though is BIG EYES. So here it goes:

Turkey our entertainer (around 4 months):

Isabella our Princess (around 5 months):

And finally Rollie Pollie our peanut (almost 3 1/2 months):

Whew. I've had a lot of babies since 2004! I think my babies are pretty stinkin' cute myself and I can't help but wonder what #4 will look like. #4 you ask? Yes, I'm already thinking..... (now if husband reads this he'll probably have a vasectomy scheduled immediately!)

Do I ever wonder?

2008-01-31T11:29:00.000-08:00

What my life would be like if Isabella were here and "normal"? Sometimes. I would do it more often if it didn't make my heart ache so tremendously. I asked husband last night if he ever thought about it (figured he didn't, being a big surly man and all), but he does. He thinks it sucks just like me. I hate to say it, but when I do think of it, I think of how much *better* my life would be. How much *happier*. There is simply something missing and it's a big thing. My baby, my princess. You just can't fill that void........with anything it seems. Oh, I miss her so much. Last night husband had Rollie Pollie giggling and Turkey was laughing and I was laughing and I had to leave the room because all of sudden I wanted to cry. It's the happy times in our family now that I miss Isabella the most. It's glaringly obvious in those moments just who is missing from our happy little family. I hate that. A lot.

The other day Turkey was talking about "sister" (that's what he always called her......we sometimes joked that he didn't know her real name), anyways he recalled something that happened when Isabella was alive. I was so incredibly happy, simply because I hate the fact that Turkey will forget most, if not all of his memories of her. They had 14 wonderful months together and I don't want him to forget. So I try and talk about her often, but not too often as I don't want to depress him. It's such a struggle, I swear. You don't know if your doing what is right or royally screwing your kids up. I guess I'll just get to wait and watch. Weeee!

So I try not imagine Isabella here, playing with her older brother because it's so painful it's almost suffocating. I only let myself ever so often I guess to simply torture myself. Plus, it's really hard to imagine Isabella "normal" as I never even had a glimpse of that from her. She was never beyond that of a 4 week old motor skills-wise. Just to drive my point home, Rollie Pollie is far more advanced than she ever was and he is 13 weeks old. Yup. My poor, sweet girl who brought so much light to my life had so much suffering and pain.

I wish just once, just for a moment God would let me see my sweet girl in Heaven. Let me see her dancing and free so that I could know that she is OK and doesn't need me anymore. Even though she passed away I am still her mother and I still worry about her. You just can't flip that switch. I would give my life to know she is OK, I really would. Shoot, I would give my life just to hold her again or see what her smile looks like or hear what her sweet laugh sounds like. It's the little things that I would give anything for.

Turkey just asked me why I was crying (that stinker is supposed to be "resting", as if three year olds know what "rest" is) and I said, "I'm just writing about sister" and he said in all his infinite wisdom "it's OK to cry about sister (has he heard that before or what?), she's up the sky with the angels, she's OK." Indeed. Thank you little man for your loving words to comfort mama, I love you higher than the moon and the stars.

I love you too sweet Isabella. Even though you can't read this, I know you know how much love I have for you. You are my heart and soul and I have peace in knowing we will be together again someday. The best things in this life and life beyond are those that make you wait. I love you...........

We have waited so long.............

2008-01-23T10:46:00.001-08:00

For Turkey to have this. Sibling interaction. Last night I had Rollie Pollie in a Bumbo seat and he looked at Turkey and SMILED. Turkey was tickled pink of course and Husband just beamed at me from across the room. His eyes said "OMG! Did you SEE that??". Indeed I did. Turkey never got that from our sweet Isabella. Of course, Turkey did have the most amazing bond with Isabella, but it was very different from what is going on between he and Rollie Pollie. They are brothers and I simply cannot wait to watch them grow together. Amazing stuff, it truly is.

Well I am yet again at a crossroads in my life. You see I have A.D.D. when it comes to deciding what I am going to do with my life. My purpose I guess. I have such a hard time deciphering what is my own voice and what is God's voice. What does God want for me and from me?? I haven't listened to His voice in the past and have paid the price. I am really trying to learn what the difference is. I'm stuck on a decision......a major one. It has to do with working, making money and time away from my kids. Decisions decisions. First of all, let me just say that I *hate* being away from my kids and could never work Mon-Fri and have them in daycare. I just can't do it. (I also don't think it's right.....but that's another story and would obviously irk some working moms out there.) It's just my humble opinion, that's all. SO, my big decision. I can right or I can plunge and go left. Which way does God want me to go? I have no idea.....and I don't know how to find out. HELP! It's times like this when I want to just call my pastor and say "Hey, can you figure this out for me? You talk to God right?" Oh, if only. I'm sure he'd have some encouraging and insightful words for me, but he wouldn't tell me which way to go now would he? God just needs to come have a cup of coffee with me so we can chat......you know about my career choices, why my daughter had Lissencephaly, OH and why she had to DIE. You know, typical coffee talk............

Well, I have to go clean, do laundry, play puzzles, yell, enforce time out, sweep floors, wipe butts, inform certain three year olds that he cannot put his wee wee on little brothers head (I'm not naming names here.....) you know, my mommy duties. I am *so* underpaid. ;)

Food has been my therapy for too long

2008-01-14T14:25:00.000-08:00

Yep, you read that right. Food. My arch nemesis, but my ultimate comforter. *sigh* It's way out of hand at this point (my weight that is). Ok, so I've had three babies since 2004 (yeah, you read that right too) and I had a daughter with a rare and lethal birth defect. I buried said daughter while 20 weeks pregnant with baby #3. Just typing that made me wanna reach for the cookies! So, maybe I have reason for being so totally out of control with my eating. It still sucks though.

I use to *love* working out and eating healthy. Not to place blame here, but husband is a terrible, awful, horrible influence on me. I can still vividly remember when we first started "living in sin" and I would get all dressed up to go run and he would sit on the couch and moan as I walked out the door "don't goooooooooooooooo, stay with me! Let's eat some ice cream and watch a movie and have some.....(insert something naughty here)". And I would invariably cave at his googly eyes. That was the beginning of the end for me. The end of a good body, defined abdominal muscles.....defined anything for that matter!!! Then the bottom fell out of my life and that's when everything really spiraled out of control for me. Isabella was born. Six short weeks later I received the worst news of my life and you know what I did? I ATE. Seriously. I can remember it like yesterday. One minute I'm in the ER screaming and crying.....a few short hours later I'm home and STUFFING MY FACE!!!! It was that quick......my life is falling apart so I know what I'll do! I'll get FAT! Mwahahaha....I'll show life, that asshole! I'll teach life a lesson by ruining my body! Take that!

Okie Dokie. So it hasn't really panned out like I thought. Life doesn't care if I'm fat.....life just......goes on. So here I type a big ol fatty pants. NOT FOR MUCH LONGER!!! As I work through my grief, I get a little angrier and the anger is good, it feels nice.......I want to walk that anger out and eventually RUN that anger out. Oh yes, it will feel so nice. Besides, whatever happened to "I'm going to run because my daughter can't?" It inspired so many and now I'm just a big fat butt! Ok, ok, enough of the self defecating remarks. But really, I need to make a come back. For reals yo!!!

Of course I am breastfeeding my little lover man, so it's going to be slow going for the next few months. (grrrrrr) But I can make small changes now. I can't let food guide me and control me anymore. Yes, I lost my daughter. Yes, it still hurts like a motheryouknowwhat. Yes, I want to eat like there is no tomorrow just so I can not feel that pain for a few short minutes. But I won't. I can't. I love myself too much, and I'm tired of hurting myself even more. I'm just making my life more difficult and trying to replace the pain of losing Isabella with the pain of being fat. Duh. How's that for therapy fatty pants?!

So, I'm going to bite the bullet and actually get a therapist!!! Just someone that I can pay once a week and just UNLOAD on them! Hopefully that will help. I just need to verbally get this stuff off my chest and not be worried about making someone else cry (I know it's terrible, but when I dump on someone about my loss and THEY get emotional it really ticks me off!) So a therapist should do me nicely. Maybe that therapist can get chocolate cake off my mind (and ass?) for good!! Maybe. We'll see. It's a start anyways, right?

Besides, Turkey starts pre-K in the fall and I cannot be the fat mom with the mini van alright? I have some MILF in me somewhere, I'm gonna dig her out!!!! Watch out! ;)

I love you sweet Isabella and you still inspire me every.single.day of my life. You are always with me, keeping my path open and free. You are my forever love.

Hey!! Who farted?

2008-01-08T14:37:00.001-08:00

It's very interesting.............

2008-01-06T14:26:00.000-08:00

how watching Rollie Pollie grow and develop normally is making me miss Isabella even more. Of course, I had no way of knowing whether or not this journey with Rollie Pollie would make things easier or harder after losing Isabella while pregnant with him. It's both I guess. I get so much JOY out of each smile he gives (and he gives them readily all the time now) and each wonderfully delicious baby noise. He looks at me, he breast feeds perfectly, he loves the sling, he is reaching for things and he SEES things. All things that Isabella never really did. Experiencing this with Rollie Pollie is beyond words, it truly is, but it also makes my heart yearn for Isabella. I yearn to watch her do these things. Sometimes I try to envision what things would be like if she had been "normal" and was with us today. WOW. My perfect life....snatched away in an instant. Dammit. I'm so glad the holidays are over. What a crappy holiday season it was this year. Good riddance. Hopefully next year I will feel a little more "chipper". Not having Isabella was brutal and the pain of missing her was even worse. My heart just hurts, it's physical, it truly is.

Rollie Pollie is the sweetest thing and just smiles at me every chance he gets. That look of absolute love and adoration a sweet little baby gives mama is the absolute greatest thing in the world. Sometimes now he'll be nursing and if I give him a smile he will pull off and shoot that big toothless grin at me. Gets me every stinkin' time. I could just gobble him up I tell you. Turkey loves him of course.....he's a little jealous, but we are dealing with it. He still talks about Isabella periodically and assumes that when I'm crying, it's because I miss her. He's almost always right. He's doing really well over all with everything. Such a tough kid and a true fighter.....it's been so rough on him and I hate that he's had to go through this nightmare along with Husband and I, but I guess that's life. Man, it sure sucks sometimes though.

I'm looking forward to the spring when I can get out with my boys (how cool that I can type that!) and enjoy nature and beautiful weather again. We always buy a zoo pass to our local zoo every year and make many trips that way each spring and summer. Last spring I took Turkey and Isabella quite a few times....it was so nice. I hope my newest love will enjoy it as well.

So Rollie Pollie takes all of his naps right now in my MobyWrap (www.mobywrap.com), it's the greatest. When I took him for his 2 month check up, they asked where he naps and sleeps ("is he in his own bed yet?") I said "hell no, he sleeps with me at night and in the sling during the day" (with a twinkle in my eye, they know me). She said "OK, but lets work on getting him in a crib." WHY? When did I lose the right to decide how and when my own babies sleep? I love co-sleeping and the sling is fantastic. Rollie Pollie gets to sleep hearing my heartbeat and smelling my smell and I get to do whatever I need to do (within reason of course.) It's perfect. Once again we are back at the "doctors know best" intersection of my life. Whatever. Besides, these doctors change the rules every six months, so who cares. One month it's "do xyz" the next month it's "no wait! that will kill your kid!". So which is it? I just do what feels right for my family and call it good. :)

OK, I've avoided the dreaded laundry monster long enough. sheesh. I really need a laundry fairy for my birthday next month. If you ever find one, send he/she my way!!!

2007 can kiss my..................

2007-12-30T08:17:00.000-08:00

that's right. 2007 can just get on out of here as far as I'm concerned. I have no love for this year and it has had no love for me. I've been looking back on this last year a lot this week and it's not pretty. It's devastating actually. 2007 will always be the year my daughter died. Unfortunately for Rollie Pollie it's also the year he was born. Crap. So I guess a small part of the year had some joy......but definitely not enough joy to negate the heartbreak.

Amazingly enough not ONE SINGLE PERSON in my life asked how I was doing during the holidays with Isabella not around. Not one. I still cannot believe it as I type it this very instant. Not one friend, not one family member. Nobody from church, nada. Nobody even mentioned her on Christmas Day, and let me tell you, we saw a lot of people that day. It hurts, it truly does. I guess they have all moved on with their lives. Gee, wish we had that luxury. This Christmas was horrible, I hated every minute of it. However, since I have a merry little three year old I did not get to feel sorry for myself and cry my eyes out everyday like I wanted to. I had to force a smile on my face, act happy and excited for him. We went to the cemetery on Christmas Day and thankfully the christmas tree we decorated and left there for Isabella was still there. Husband and I took our turns sitting on the bench and crying. It was just plain awful. I hated going to all the places we had to go and smiling acting like I am happy and content so others don't have to feel uncomfortable. Especially since all I really wanted to do was scream at everyone "My daughter is dead!!! Gone! Forever! I didn't know last Christmas was my one and only one with her dammit! I want to hate all of you for being so jolly with you happy and healthy kids!" But of course I can't go around screaming that at people. I have to be polite and pleasing. One of these days..........

Turkey did have a great day, albeit an exhausting one. He of course made out like a bandit and now has a million new toys to get bored with in one week. Rollie Pollie got quite a bit too. He is doing so good, such a smiley baby. I don't take a single one of those smiles for granted I tell you. Each one gets a huge reaction from me and makes my heart sing. Oh and he loves to talk! He coos constantly, just like Turkey did as a little one. Which means only one thing! Another chatty cathy! :O Husband cannot wait. Mwahahahhaha. Well, at least they come by it honestly.

Lately I have been remembering things that don't include Isabella and I break down every time. It's so hard to say "remember that day when....." and realize that it was A.D. (after death). That's how everything is catagorized for me now. A.D. and B.D. (before death). Lovely isn't it? I know you're jealous.

Here is something neat I can share. Above our bed we have a big picture of Isabella, it's so beautiful. Well, every morning when Rollie Pollie wakes up, the loves to stare at that picture. Isabella looks so beautiful in it and he loves it. He also smiles at pictures of her and coos at them. I think he knows her and probably sees her all the time. (I'm really not kooky ya'll) ;)
I try and remind myself daily that Isabella is so much happier than she could have ever been here. She suffered so much here and I hated it, but I hate her being gone more. Selfish I know. Husband and I keep hearing that the first year is the hardest......so far "they" are right. I'm already dreading her 2nd birthday. I think we are going to do a balloon releasing and eat cake anyways, to try and make it a happy occasion and not so depressing......we'll see if that works.

I miss you sweet girl and there is not a moment of my life where you are not on my mind or in my heart. Your pictures are everywhere in our home so that we can always look at you and feel you with us. You are still apart of this family and you always will be. I love you so much, I hope you know that. I hope you are dancing away in your pink tutu that I made for you. I cannot wait to see you again. Love, Mama

So I've been a little busy

2007-12-06T08:28:00.000-08:00

Ok, maybe more than a "little" busy. This guy just doesn't want me to set him down and I *swear* it's not my fault!! Well, ok, it is my fault......but I simply can't help but hold my new fresh babies all the time. *sigh* And once you start......

So, Christmas is quickly approaching and Isabella is on my mind constantly. Not that she isn't always on my mind constantly, because she is, but right now it's more.........intense I guess. I couldn't figure out why I was crying so much the week leading up to Thanksgiving and then it hit me, "oh, it's the holidays". It sucks,no other way to slice it. I am now in the anger phase of my grief, and it's not pleasant. I have been so freakin' snappy and mean lately. I am just so completely furious that Isabella isn't here. That I only have two babies here when I should have three. I hate that when I go out with Jackson and Kingston (which lets face, ain't often at this point!) people assume I only have two children. I hate explaining things and then seeing that look come across people's faces......the look that says "I don't really want to know this or talk about this with you."

I miss Isabella so intensely, it hurts. I'm sad for Jackson, he misses her so much and understands so little. It isn't fair that his little heart has to bear this. It also isn't fair that I will have to explain to Kingston everything and he too will get to experience loss at a young age. At least I'm an adult and have a grasp on things (supposedly anyways),these kids just don't have it. We're going to put Jackson in counseling next spring and I'm hoping that will help him. He's been acting out and regressing a little lately and I'm sure losing his sister is the root of the problem. Plus, add in getting a new baby just 5 months later and it's a lot to deal with! Sometimes I wonder if our family is going to get a break at some point........here's hoping.

Things are good with Rollie Pollie. He's an eating machine, so most of my days are spent on the couch breastfeeding. He's growing though! It's funny, he's six weeks old and doesn't even weigh what Jackson weighed at birth. Yikes! Now that puts Jackson's ginormous size in perspective for me.

My darling Isabella, we miss you so much. We talk about you and to you everyday in this house of yours. I know you know it and you can still feel our love. I still go in your room just to feel you, I love it in there, your little haven. You are missed more than you know and even though I'm not quite sure how we will all get over this or if we ever will get over this, I hope you know that you are never forgotten. I love you and miss you sweet Princess. I'd give my life to hold you one more time and kiss your fat cheeks again. I'm happy you are free of your body and free of all your earthly sufferings. I can't wait to see you again baby girl.....

Ok, I needed to get that out!!! Well, my wormy is squirming in his sling. Gotta go :)

The glorious birth

2007-11-08T07:09:00.000-08:00

So.........on October the 22nd (a Monday) at 8 am I walked into my kitchen to grab a little cup of coffee. Husband was just getting ready to leave for work and I felt a gush. I kind of paused and felt another gush of water and then one more. I yelled at Husband, "I think my water just broke". He laughed and said "WHAT??" I really thought women's water broke before labor only in the movies. Of course in the movies the women gives birth about 5 minutes later, right? Wrong. So I confirm that water has broken (I'm soakin' my clothes here man), call everyone we know, we get giddy with anticipation and then we wait. And wait. And wait some more. Labor should start any minute, right? I call my doula, we talk about things to do to get labor going, she says she's coming over. I have rested, I have cleaned, I am getting a little impatient here. So around 4 pm Doula shows up and we start some accupressure. Don't tell her, but I don't think that crap works. It sure didn't for me! I had a few contractions here and there, but nothing regular or consistent. So around 6 pm Husband and I decide to go to the mall and walk. We do two rounds all the way around the mall and I can't do it anymore, my back was killing me!! So we go home and wait. At this point my mom and his mom are there staring at me. I know they were just excited, but it was starting to drive me a little crazy.

At 9 pm we decide to drive up to the hospital to see where I'm at and make a decision. Doula thinks we should just stay home, labor will start. I'm more concerned about infection risk (I had been super careful all day and checked my temp regularly just to be sure) so I want to go. We get there and endure more waiting. We get a non-stress test and the nurse freaks a little when she finds out my water has been broken for 16 hours and I'm just now strollin' in the doors. I tell her my temp is fine and baby has been moving fine. She's says "oooooookay" like I'm crazy. :)

Rollie Pollie looks good, they confirm my water has indeed broken (no kidding!) and say that my cervix is 3 centimeters dilated and I'm 60% effaced. Grrr. So the on call midwife (not MY midwife) wants to start me on pitocin immediately and get the baby out. I say "no thanks", but I WILL stay over night and let you monitor me until morning. She's OK with that and we decide to re-evaluate in the AM when it's been 24 hours post rupture.

So we get settled in our room and I try to sleep. SO not happening. All I can think is "C'mon body!!! Go into labor!!" My body has done this a time or two before so I'm completely confused as to why it won't just get it over with already! I really didn't want pitocin, I planned on a natural birth and didn't think I could do it with the pit. Those contractions HURT!

So it's 9 am on Tuesday. No labor. No promise of labor. I'm so bummed. And tired. So I consent to the pitocin. But only on the agreement that it would be increased very, very, very slowly and once my body got into a good productive pattern, nobody would touch it. All agreed, except our stupid nurse. (I could write a novel about this nurse, but I won't. Bascially, she sucked and we had two or three arguments, she had a few with my doula, my husband, my mom and the list goes on. She sucks.)

Anyways, pitocin gets started, husband and I start walking the halls of the womens center. We walk, I do the birthing ball, we walk more, I rest. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. So around noon things are starting to get hoppin' in my body thank goodness. If I remember correctly contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart. Nice! So I order some lunch because I'm starving......and since I'm going natural, I can eat! Yeah! Lunch arrives at 1pm and I have to inhale it between contractions which are about 2-3 minutes apart and getting intense. I'm having to really focus through them at this point and people in the room are starting to annoy me. We had LOTS or people. The whole extended fam PLUS Jackson.......who at this point needs a nap and is whining non-stop. So I order everyone except husband and doula out of the room. I can just sense that it's about to get all kinds of ugly. It's 2 pm now and I request to have my cervix checked (haven't had it checked since the night before because of the broken water) I am 5 cm and 80% effaced. It pisses me off a little (ok a lot) because I feel like I should be further along. I think to myself "I still have a couple of hours or so left". Nope.

So now it's 2:15 or so and I am not a happy serene girl anymore. All of a sudden my contractions are 1-2 minutes apart and they are not friendly contractions. They mean business. They want this baby out. I decide I want to get in the tub, I think it will feel good and I am right. It was wonderful. I decide to stay there. I am crying at this point (with tears and everything) and I remember looking at Husband at one point bawling saying "It hurts SO bad, it really does". He looks at me with sympathy but always says "you can do this". So we're in the tub. Now contractions are one on top of the other. I'm only getting about 30 seconds in between to rest and I'm basically spending that time dreading the next contraction. I'm getting panicked and start demanding an epidural. I am yelling at my doula and telling her I can't do it, blah blah blah. She of course just says "yes you can". So now she thinks I'm complete because I'm writhing around in the tub yelling my head off. Nurse checks me and like an idiot says "I can't find her cervix, where did it go??" She keeps fishing for it and I finally grab her hand out and say "that HURTS!" Doula informs her she cannot find my cervix because I'm fully dilated. Dummy.

Here is where I get really pissed off in a big hurry. My midwife informs us that we can't birth in the tub because we are banking Rollie Pollie's cord blood. So I have to get OUT OF THE TUB, dry off, change clothes and somehow WALK to the bed. I'm pissed. No, I'm furious. I'm in agony. I get up, with the help of big strong Husband of course. I'm freakin' nekkid from the waist down, standing in the bathroom while the nurse takes 5 MINUTES to figure out how to get my wet shirt off with me being hooked up the the IV pole. I start screaming at her to figure it out and just as I am about to rip out my IV she gets it. Idiot! (really, she was a nasty nurse, don't feel sorry for her.) So we get a dry shirt on me and I somehow make it to the bed where I colapse and start moaning and yelling again. My mom, mother in law and sister in law are in there at this point looking pretty horrified at my state of being......I'm sure it was a sight. So we are pushing. Excuse me, I'M pushing and it feels so darn good. Painful, but the best kind of pain. I push twice and out came my 5lb 15oz Rollie Pollie at 2:45 pm. I caught him myself and brought him up to my chest where he found the breast all by himself. (Yes, really) It was wonderful, beautiful, GLORIOUS. I wish I had done all my babies this way. Bonding has been so easy and peaceful this time around and the breastfeeding down right easy compared with my other two. Well, we can't really count Isabella right? I couldn't have done it without my doula, bless her. She took some serious abuse from me the last 20 minutes or so, but she saved Husband from receiving it, which he greatly appreciated. Really, truly and honestly, the pain was only "unbearable" for 20-30 minutes max. Not bad right? Contractions aren't the hard part....it's transition that gets you. I didn't know I was in transition, I just knew that the pain was horrible and continuous and I wasn't sure how long I was going to have to endure that. Thank God, it was a short amount of time. I did scream for the epidural once or twice, but nobody listened to me (I had instructed everyone to NOT give in no matter how much I begged). Luckily, I couldn't have received one anyways, by the time I was yelling for it, I was dilated to 10 centimeters. Beautiful, just beautiful. I guess I should start growing my under arm hair out and call myself Hippie, huh? Oh, only kidding you hippies out there.

Rollie Pollie is doing so great, he is an awesome, inspiring joy in my life and I feel blessed to have him and the birth experience that came along with him. I feel so *empowered* and strong. It's that whole "I am woman, here me roar" , it's so cliche, but true! I'm unstoppable and now I know it. I can really do anything if I want it bad enough and believe hard enough. How incredible is that to finally realize your ability and own strength? Not that I have ever felt "weak" in life, but everyone wonders what they are really capable of. Yes, I want XYZ, but can I really do it?? Yeah, you can.

Enough of that. I'm off to snuggle my "booshee bear" (every kid I pop out gets their own unique array of nicknames, just whatever springs to my mind when I look at them) and Rollie Pollie is no different. For now it's "booshee bear" and I love it. Where it came from? The depths of my crazy mind is all I can tell you. He looks like a "booshee" whatever that is. Someone google that and get back to me! It'd be interesting to see what comes up. ;)

Oh, one more thing. Isabella, my darling, thank you for watching over us and your new little brother. I know you had a hand in this whole thing you beautiful girl and I love you so much. When I look at Rollie Pollie I am reminded of you everyday in the most precious of ways. Thanks for the healing process............

Rollie Pollie is here!

2007-11-05T08:26:00.000-08:00

He arrived October 23rd @ 2:45 pm weighing 5lbs 15oz, 18.5 inches long. Turns out I can make small babies if they come a little early........

When I actually have two free arms again, I'll tell all about the glorious birth (it really was). Until then, here is a picture of the newest man in my life (did I mention what a smitten kitten I am??)

The countdown continues

2007-10-18T14:59:00.000-07:00

So as of today I am 37 weeks pregnant. Boy howdy, do I feel every bit of it. I think if Rollie Pollie gets any lower he'll just hang an arm out and wave! He's moving less (for real, not paranoia) but I'm sure it's because he has just plain run out of room in my uterus. Those things only stretch to a point you know.....

The closer I get to giving birth, the more emotional I get about Isabella. I can hardly look at pictures of her right now without bursting into tears. Typically her pictures give me comfort, but lately they just break my heart. I was thinking the other day that I just gave birth to her 18 months ago. It seems completely unreal that I gave birth to my beautiful daughter, loved her, took care of her, lost her and am now about to give birth again. Turns out a lot can change in 18 months. It's scary if you really let yourself think about it........so try not to. :)

I'm so curious about Rollie Pollie, what he will look like and what he will be like. I cannot even let myself think about him begin healthy yet, I just can't. I am going into this expecting the worst, praying for the best. I guess I don't want to be blind-sighted like I was with Isabella all over again. Not like it really matters though. You think you can prepare yourself for certain tragedies in life, but trust me, you cannot. You can think about it all you want, convince yourself that your "OK" with it, but when it happens, it's a whole other ballgame. One that you are not prepared for in any way even though you've been training. There just isn't practice or preparation for life's little or big "oopsies". I often wonder why some people in life only get little "oopsies" and some get major "oopsies". Husband really gets fired up about it, he really thinks it's unfair how it's not spread out more evenly. I guess it's not really fair......but as the saying goes "Life ain't fair man!" We'll see when Rollie Pollie gets here. It feels so surreal to me at this point. I simply cannot imagine having a healthy baby. It hasn't happened in so long, it seems impossible. I pray and I pray hard and I guess that is all I can do.

Turkey is getting a little anxious I can tell, but seems pretty excited to meet his new little brother. They are sharing a room (at some point, since Rollie Pollie will room with me for a few months) and he's excited about that. Turkey is a natural big brother and is so compassionate because of his sister, he's just a neat kid. He makes me so proud everyday. Everyone, including Husband and I are going to do whatever it takes to make this transition as smooth as possible for our Turkey. He's had a rough 18 months as well, and I just want some stinkin' stability in his life! I don't want him to be crushed anymore......he's so young, I just want him to be happy and emotionally well and all that jazz. Hope I'm doing this whole thing right! There isn't a book for it! ;)

So at this point I am physically, emotionally, mentally EXHAUSTED. My body does not feel like the one of a 26 year old, it feels closer to that of a 90 year old woman. The pelvis has separated, the ligaments are stretched and the sciatic nerve has become Rollie Pollie's favorite resting spot. I need a break after this baby. A loooooooong, nice break. Time to get myself back in shape, in more ways than one. I'm looking forward to it, I've missed myself. I love being a mother, I love giving birth and bringing new life into the world. It's the most noble of jobs I believe. I just haven't had the typical journey so many others get and I need some time to get back together again. And then, who knows? Maybe another little one in our future? I cannot say now, I just need that break :)

So if you think of it, and you're the praying type, remember us and Rollie Pollie will ya? Thanks :)

36 weeks.............

2007-10-14T17:15:00.000-07:00

Ah, we have arrived. It's time for Rollie Pollie to come, whenever he is ready. I'm surprisingly calm right now, which is unusual for me at this point in any of my pregnancies. Typically I get really nervous nelly right about now about the delivery, my baby, handling things, etc. You would think I'd be going really crazy, considering I've never had a baby after losing a child......perhaps it hasn't hit me yet. Perhaps I'm avoiding really thinking about it. Perhaps. I have had some moments........a bumpy spot here or there, but then I start breathing and realize things will be OK, they just have to be. How I'm still an optimistic person after the year and a half I've had is really beyond me at this point. Just go with it.

I met my new midwife a couple of weeks ago and I really like her. She is *exactly* what I would envision a midwife to be. Calm, serene, peaceful, a little hippyish (but not in a kooky, no way are you delivering my baby kind of way!) She's nice and competent, completely competent (MOM!). Yeah, my mom is a little nervous about all of this...........ok, ok, she's downright skeptical about my choices. She can't really help it though, she's an RN and *very* medical. I'm not, that's where we differ. She knows I'm intelligent and that I wouldn't do anything stupid so she is trusting me. I think she just doesn't want to see me in pain, and who can blame her. I watched my daughter suffer daily, and it ain't pretty. I miss my Princess........... I miss her so much I can hardly breathe some days.

So maybe I am a little nervous and maybe I don't really want to imagine the worst anymore. I have already lived through the worst and I would just like to pretend like it's over and happier times lay ahead. I don't want to think that I may get to live my worst twice...........or more. Does that happen to people? I really hope not. So hopefully things will turn out just fine this time. Rollie Pollie will be healthy and happy and never have a seizure. A girl can hope right? A girl can pray and a girl can hold out for happiness.

Well, wish me luck in the next 3-4 weeks, as I will have a new, beautiful boy in my life and times will be crazy around here once again. It's felt pretty lonely around here without my darling Isabella and although Rollie Pollie will never replace her, it will be nice to have a baby in the house again.

I'm off to "nest", you can only organize linens so many times, right?

It's a small world afterall

2007-10-07T06:30:00.000-07:00

So, this last week I decided it was time to get my hair cut again. I had not had my hair cut since last February (yes, really) and it was indeed time. I have neglected myself sorely these last two years, but for a better cause. Anyways, my hair. So I don't have a stylist anymore (mine became too popular and you have to schedule your appointments out a year in advance. Right, like I know what my crazy life will be like in a YEAR!) Last Monday I just went through several salon websites just trying to decide which I would pick to entrust my hair too (it's a really big deal you see) and I finally land on one in particular about 30 minutes away from me. I had no idea why I picked this one, I just did. So I call and tell them to just give me whoever, I don't care.

Yesterday, the big day arrived. New hair......new me? I was so very excited! There is nothing like getting your hair cut and I usually always do something different every time I go. I get bored easily.........hard to believe eh? Well, I meet my new girl and she seems really nice and I'm happy. She starts washing my hair, we start chatting. She had a picture of a sweet three month old little boy at her booth and we chatted about him and she told me he was adopted. I thought that was really neat, because for some reason I've always been attracted to the idea of adoption even though I am walking breeding machine. Then she asked the dreaded question: "How many kids do you have?" Oh how I have come to loathe this question. At first, after Isabella passed I would immediately say "Two, but my daughter just passed away, I am pregnant with #3". Well, this warranted lots of ill advice, comments, or even CRYING from complete strangers. *sigh* So now I never know what to say. So, yesterday I just decided to not say anything about Isabella dying and said "I have two, this my third". She says "how old?" Ugh! I lie and say "three and 14 months" (that's how old she was when she passed away, she's frozen in that age I guess.) Then something very interesting happens. She decides to ask me where I'm going to deliver. I tell her and ask where she delivered forgetting she had adopted. She immediately said "I had my baby at Baptist." We both paused. Hm. Then she says "well, I should just be honest, I lost my daughter in April". I couldn't believe it! I immediately said "well, this may sound crazy but I lost MY daughter in May, I just didn't know if I should say anything". We both kind of laughed (like an awkward laugh, not HAHA laugh.) I asked what happened to her daughter. She goes on to tell me that her daughter was 9 months old when she passed and had been born with a rare genetic condition that they just discovered last week from her autopsy. Whoa. So I tell her about Isabella and her rare genetic condition (damn these rare genetic conditions!!!! Don't they know they are wrecking people's lives here??) Then I mention that Isabella died at home, because she was in Hospice. Well, so was her daughter. Which hospice? THE SAME HOSPICE AS ISABELLA! Now, that may not seem all together that strange, however, the pieces started fitting for me. I knew all about her daughter! My hospice nurse had been telling me for months about this sweet girl, because she had a lot of the same issues as Isabella, but no diagnosis. I begin telling this chick all about her daughter and her mouth is hanging open like "how do you know this stuff???". So, yeah, we had been hearing about each other and now here we are MEETING in a huge city. Odd. But wonderful!!!! Her daughter was on all the same medications as Isabella and we laughed about that. Shared memories, hugged, laughed, it was magical. Really. I can't help but wonder if I was supposed to meet her and vice versa.

Well, that's my nice story for the week :) I've got some thoughts coming on Rollie Pollie's impending birth, but I'm tired. (carrying a huge fetus does that to a girl!)

To be continued............

The Patch

2007-10-03T06:17:00.001-07:00

It's amazing to me how fast a year can go by and how many things can change in that year. I have really learned that lesson hard and fast since Isabella was born. This last weekend was a doozie, because we went to the Orr Family Farm ( a local family fun type place where you take a hayride and pick your own sugar pumpkin, lot's of fun!) Why was that hard? Well, for a couple of reasons. One, it's always hard when we do something fun as a family now, because a certain somebody is missing. When you're having fun, it's glaringly obvious for some reason. The second reason it was tough is because last year we were all dressed and headed out the door, ready for the Orr Family Farm and Matt decided to just stay home with Isabella because she was having one of her "bad" days. (bad days included lots of arching, crying, reflux, seizures, etc.) We tried to always ask ourselves "Is Isabella going to have FUN?" If the answer was "no", we split up. So Jackson and I went solo, had a good time and I comforted myself by saying "No big deal, she'll come with us next year for sure." Hm. Perhaps not though. Once again, it's funny how life changes in a year. Or maybe it's not so funny.....

My aunt lost her daughter in a terrible car wreck 10 years ago.....my cousin. It was horrible and I talk to her often about how to cope. The other day it struck me that she has been living without her daughter for 10 years. Yes, she's been happy and she has moved on in her own life, which is what healthy people do, but still, 10 years without her child. It made me so incredibly sad to think that at some point I will be able so say "it's been 10 years....." It just doesn't seem real to me.....yes, still. I know it's only been four months since she passed away, but I wonder when it will be real to me. Maybe it will never seem real......only time will tell. There is just the huge hole in my heart as cliche as that sounds, and there is nothing that can fill it. Well, except Isabella, and let's face it, that isn't going to happen.

There are mornings, like this one, when I wake up and out of the blue it really hits me what's missing. Isabella. I will look at the clock and realize she would be waking up right now and I would go into her room and say "goodmorning Princess!!!!" She was always so happy in the mornings and alert. It was one of my favorite times. I would change her diaper and we would "talk" for a while and I would kiss her all over. Then I would feed her the morning cocktail of drugs that kept her going and soon after the light would go out. Oh how I hated those stupid drugs. They stole my baby from me everyday, but she had to have them to survive. Without them she would just have one seizure after another until her heart gave out. Or regurgitate acid all day, or have all of her muscles completely stiff and immobile. My poor girl. It's so incredibly hard to watch your child, your precious child that you love so much suffer every.single.day and there is very little you can do about it. I would have given anything to have taken it from her. I still would today. I wish we had that option in life, don't you? When Isabella passed away, it only took me two days to get rid of her plethora of medications. I hated them and couldn't wait to have them out of my house. My kitchen window had looked like Walgreens for 14 months! They were a painful reminder of her suffering here on earth, and I needed to be surrounded by the positives of her life.

I guess this is going to be a doozie week, not just a day. That's OK I suppose, I have to get it out when I can.

Husband and I feel so sorry for Turkey, as he lost a sister and lost a sister when he is so young and fragile. I hope we are doing things right and helping him the way we are supposed to, but who really knows, right? Turkey did do something really cute yesterday, I love how children's minds work. He came up to me yesterday with my cell phone (his new favorite toy) and said "Look Mama! Isabella is in your PHONE!" (my wallpaper is a picture I took of her at the park a month before she passed) I said "Oh my goodness she sure is!" He continued to walk around the house and look at her and show her things throughout the house. I thought it was very cute. Well, about a half hour later he says "look, look! now Isabella is showing me the house! I can see you and me and anything I want with the PHONE!". Ok, now I'm really laughing. Turkey somehow pressed the "camera" button and was amazed that wherever he pointed the phone he had "live shots"! He was totally convinced Isabella was in the phone and doing all of this just for him. What a stinker. I didn't correct him and just said "Isabella loves you very much." You know what he said? "Of course she does". :) Talk about counting your blessings......

So, this year the pumpkin patch was a little sad, (ok really sad) and that's alright. We took our three small pumpkins and decorated Isabella's grave (I hate that word!) so it looks nice and festive out there. Maybe next year the pumpkin patch will be better, or maybe it will take 5 years for it to feel better. Either way, I know Isabella is with us and having fun right along side us. We just have to quit feeling sorry for ourselves to see it. Someday...................

Here we go again...

2007-09-24T12:02:00.000-07:00

Well, I seem to have the most trouble on these little "month" anniversaries. I am now approaching the 4 month anniversary of Isabella's passing. Man, this just really sucks. I try to be positive, I try to say things like "well, she's not suffering anymore, that's what is most important." I don't always feel that way though. She was my baby....correction, she IS my baby and I usually just want her back. Now that she is gone I feel very selfish. It's like I no longer care that she was clearly miserable here on Earth and probably always would be. At I had her in my arms though.....and could smell her and kiss her. Shortly after Isabella passed away I was giving Jackson a bath and accidentally used her bubble bath (she had her own and Jackson had his own)....well, the smell just about knocked me over. It was so raw, so her I couldn't stand it. I immediately changed the water and put the remaining bubble bath in her closet so I could smell it anytime I wanted. I still go in there and pull it out on tough days, just to remember her smell. Her clean smell anyways.....she had other smells of course ;)

We went to the cemetery today hoping that the bench we bought would be up, but alas it is not. By the weekend, they promise. We'll see. We are going to the pumpkin patch this weekend to pick pumpkins for Isabella's grave (what an awful word right?) and to put up her new fall flowers I bought last week. Husband also requested a maple tree (my favorite) be planted by the bench this fall, for shade and beauty. It's so funny whenever we go out there, I look at my own plot and think "oh yeah, I'm going to die someday too....hmmmm". It's strange facing your own mortality. Death has never really scared me though, it's always seemed so natural to me. Perhaps because so much of my mom and dad's family died when I was a child. I remember many, many funerals. Of course, I never anticipated burying my child. I always thought I would bury my mother or father, that seems much more "natural". Burying a child does not. I'm happy with the cemetery we chose, it's so nice and extremely peaceful. Jackson loves the "big pond" as he calls it. He fishes in it or throws rocks in it whenever we go. We'll try anything to keep him from wreaking havoc on the other grave sites. *sigh* You just have yell "NO!" and cringe a little when he pulls flowers out or steps on headstones. He's three though, what can we expect really?

As the due date of Rollie Pollie approaches I become increasingly anxious about how I will feel when he gets here. I think the fact that he is a boy will most definitely help the situation, but it will be very bittersweet. Our doula suggested we bring a big picture we have of Isabella with us to the hospital while I labor and birth Rollie Pollie, so I can look at her and feel like she is apart of everything. It made me cry tears of joy when she suggested it. How perfect. I'm sure one or two people will think I'm kookie, but that's ok, it's never bothered me before. She also said after Rollie Pollie arrives, she will take a family picture of all of us in bed together and put Isabella's picture in the background. This makes me *extremely* happy. I know she is with me whether I have a picture of her or not, but the visuals help. The sad fact is that there will be a member of our family missing when Rollie Pollie makes his grand entrance. Once again, that just sucks. I hope Rollie Pollie is healthy and ok. I keep telling God "I can't take much more, so go easy on me, OK??" I've been very strong this last year and half, but we all have breaking points. I'm teetering on the edge...........

I miss you my precious girl, my sweet Princess. Mama loves you so much and I cannot wait until we are together forever. I can't wait until I look at your eyes and know that you know exactly who I am. I love you forever and for always.

So, my EX-doctor thinks I'm crazy.....

2007-09-19T17:11:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I'm switching OB's.....I'm 33 weeks and heading to another practice. *sigh* Well, I saw it coming, husband saw it coming, shoot, EVERYONE saw it coming, I just have to be hit with a mack truck it seems to get the hints of my life. Oh, and just to clarify, I'm not going to another OB, I'm going to a midwife now....but I'll get into that later.

So I had my bi-weekly check up with Dr. Evil on Monday. Well, the previous evening I had felt like Rollie Pollie wasn't moving as much....or the same as before. I got a little paranoid. You should know, that Isabella quit moving altogether around 35 weeks, to the point where I really thought she had died in utero, but was assured with Non-Stress Tests that she was P-E-R-F-E-C-T-L-Y Fine. Right. Oooookay. So I continue to get more worked up over night and in the morning while getting ready for said appointment. I call husband. I cry, I panic a little. Husband does what husband does best and talks me off the ledge. Says reassuring things like "Rollie Pollie is fine, maybe he's just tired." "Or fat" We laugh. I'm feeling better......a little better anyways. He decides he needs to leave work and come with me. I protest, he insists.....gosh I love that man. So we're off to see Dr. Evil.

We get to Dr. Evil's office and I inform her nurse that we are concerned, I have what I consider decreased fetal movement, movements have changed, etc. Nurse checks heart rate with crappy doppler, says "his heart is good, everything is fine". Thanks LPN! You must know everything! I wanted to slap her and say, "yeah, I have one of those at home and my daughter's heart was always beating but SHE WAS NOT FINE!". But I don't, because she doesn't really know what she's talking about and I know this. Dr. Evil comes in, all hurried and busy like. (Us little people just have no idea how *hard* their jobs are.....my goodness!) Says "you look great, baby looks great, he's moving great, right?" Um, NOPE. Guess you and your super LPN don't converse. I give complaints, she acts annoyed. (once again, her job is *very* hard you know.....and it's completely my fault she CHOSE to be a doctor.......funny how most doctors seem to really hate patients, hm. I'm not sure how they think they are supposed to earn those porsche's?, but I digress) So Dr. Evil sighs heavily and says "well, we'll give you non-stress test" Like she's the one giving it or something. Right. Anyways, we do it for a whopping 20 minutes, she says "well, he kicked 5 times (didn't pay any attention to the accelerations, there were none) we'll see you in two weeks". Fine. Whatever. You're a doctor, so you're a god, I'm stooooopid since I'm not a doctor.

We leave. We eat lunch, I drink some caffeine to see if that will wake our lazy Rollie Pollie up. Yep, it does. Ah.....I feel much better. For a while. Then it continues. Very little movements. More squirms, less kicks. I'm getting really worked up again. I keep having deja vu from Isabella. Fearing the worse is happening again. I drive myself crazy for another 24 hours, break down crying several times, decide to call Dr. Evil's "nurse". Instead of a nurse with instructions I get Dr. Evil herself. How nice. NOT. She immediately says "what EXACTLY can I do for you CRAZY LADY (ok, she calls me by my name, but it was insinuated)" (emphasis on extrememly hateful tone) I stutter for a minute because one I'm surprised a doctor god called a little person like me on the phone and two she's being so incredibly nasty and I'm not sure why. I say something like "uh, I'm not sure, I'm just worried and I just want some reassurance that baby is fine." She says: "well, I gave you a NST, is that not enough???" Well, no, actually it's not dammit! I had several of those with Isabella, was reassured she was fine and she was in fact not fine....but she knows that. She knows all of that. I tell her she is being awfully insensitive to my situation, given what I went through with Isabella AND THEN BURYING HER THREE MONTHS AGO. You know what that EVIL woman says to me? "Well, you knew this pregnancy would be hard." Yeah, I did.....to an extent. Did I KNOW my daughter would die when I was 18 weeks pregnant? Nope. Does that complicate things? Just a little. Are my emotions crazy right now? Completely. Is it justified? Totally. I don't owe ANYONE an explanation. Period. Not even a "god doctor". So then she asks if I just want her to take the baby NOW so I can see him. Oh, yes please. I'd love a preemie! Oh yeah! There's the right answer you sarcastic terrible witch woman. So now I'm full on bawling, ashamed at my emotions because the normal me would have ripped her a new one and left HER crying in the fetal position, but I just don't have any fight in me these days.
So Dr. Evil sighs again (I'm really getting tired of those exaggerated sighs at this point, like I'm some insolent three year old) and says "just go to Labor and Delivery tonight and I'll set you up with a Biophysical Profile, will that make you feel better???" I said "hopefully, yes". Another sigh. "let's just have you do TWO of those a week, so you won't bother me". Bother you? BOTHER YOU???? I AM PAYING YOU! I EMPLOY YOU! THAT ESCALADE YOU DRIVE? THAT'S ME YOU BLEEPITY, BLEEPING, BLEEP. Oh, but once again, I digress.

So husband and I go to have the BPP and everything is fine. Rollie Pollie scores an 8 out of 8, which is perfect. I feel better. Husband wants to beat Dr. Evil within an inch of her life, which is so sweet of him. ;) We talk to the nurse........we tell nurse that we are leaving Dr. Evil immediately. We tell her why. She tells us Dr. Evil is not liked.....by anyone. Oh and she has the highest C-Section rate of ALL OB's at this hospital. Let me tell you, she has a lot of OB's to compete with. Not good. It doesn't really surprise us, since Dr. Evil has been trying to schedule my baby since I was 15 weeks (for convenience of course, I just haven't figured out if it's for mine or hers???) I know it angers her that I wouldn't let her induce me. Well, get over it. I'm an intelligent woman, I do my homework and really, it's my body.....don't I get a say?

Why is it that Doctors don't like educated patients? I asked one of my friends who is an RN that question today, she also use to work for an OB (one that I like and respect by the way and has done a lot for us this pregnancy, he just can't deliver this baby because he's a man, and I have issues with that.) Well she said patients like me make doctors feel "threatened". If you're a good doctor and you're confident in that, then you shouldn't feel "threatened" by what I know. I would never, ever claim to know half of what doctors know, but I don't just take what they say as gospel. I question them. I research on my own. It works for me too. If I weren't that kind of person, Isabella would have missed out on a lot. She would have been ignored. But she wasn't, because I was yelling on her behalf all along. We actually had to switch neurologists with Isabella because the neuro actually said to me "you know too much about a disorder I know nothing about and I don't like it." I give her an A for honesty but a big fat F in humble pie. The next neuro? After talking for 15 minutes, he looked at me and said "I bet you know more than I know about this whole Liss thing don't you?" I looked at him and said "I know I do". He laughed and laughed hard. You know what? I loved him instantly. I actually went into his office and told him Isabella needed to be weaned off this medicine and increase the other one. You know what he said? "That's exactly what I think, you're smart.....ever wanted to be a doctor?" Nope. :) He wasn't the least bit threatened by what I knew. Of course he didn't know a lot about Lissencephaly, why would he? It's not like I knew more about epilepsy or something totally common. I HAD to learn everything. Nobody else knew anything. It's survival....plain and simple. When we met with the doctor in Chicago to discuss Isabella, that doctor was impressed with my knowledge since I had only known she had Liss for 6 weeks. You know why I knew so much? I had googled my brains out and read ALL of his research papers on it. Half of it might as well have been in swahili, but I learned.....fast. He gave me a lot of knowledge on that trip and I am grateful. If it has to do with myself or my family, I will learn and I will learn quickly. I will look at things from *every* angle, not just one. Stooopid doctors is what I say. :)

So, off to the midwife we go. Funny, because at the very beginning of the pregnancy I had an appointment with this midwife, but canceled, thought I should go with an "all knowing" doctor. Should have listened to my own voice. I am learning how to do that, very slowly. Eventually God, I promise you won't have to run me over with Mack trucks anymore. I swear. I'm getting there.........

I think I might actually be crazy.......

2007-09-13T14:56:00.001-07:00

Ok, so husband and I are doing this whole child birth thing this time, au natural. I guess I should say that *I* am doing it au natural....husband will just be watching! Well, he'll be helping me, providing massage, words of encouragement, someone to strangle, etc. We did indeed hire a Doula and I am so excited. We will call her "wonder woman". Wonder woman is very nice and oh so intelligent on all things "natural" when it comes to child birth. I am SO excited for this and completely terrified! I love the labor and delivery part of pregnancy, it's such an amazing climax and just plain amazing. I cannot wait to meet Rollie Pollie and see his beautiful face, smell him and feed him with my body. I did not get to have the wonderful breastfeeding relationship with Isabella, because of her disorder. It's been a long time since I have breastfed a sweet little baby and I am READY! It's just so amazing and wonderful to see just what the woman's body is capable of. It's a perfect, whole food. God's gift to our babies!!

So, my previous two munchkins were "medical" births. I have nothing against "medical" births really, simply because I had none of the common complications of them. I guess I got lucky.....or something like that. I have always been anti-induction unless it's an emergency situation (more often than not today, it's NOT) but I grateful for the induction of Isabella. Something in me told me to do it and Thank God I did. You see, we did not yet know of Isabella's severely under developed brain and because of that, she may have never sent my body into labor. The day we decided to induce, they broke my water first and it was stained with meconium (aka, baby poo). Had I not been induced that day, Isabella may have died in utero. It gives me chills just to think of it. My body simply was not responding to her the way it did to Jackson, and now, in hindsight we know why. I was lucky though and my induction went smoothly and quickly. Many other women do not have the same results. But I won't bore you with those stats. You just have to educate yourself! Don't rely on your doctor, please! Trust me, they *do not* have *your* best interest in mind. My OB just flat out told me last week that she wants to induce me for *convenience*. Mine or hers? Hmmmm..... I'm going to go with hers. :O Obviously I am not going to be induced, for anybody's convenience. Rollie Pollie is coming, ready or not. I just have to wait. I'm already uncomfortable, why not endure it for a full 40 weeks??? Shocking, I know.

So, natural child birth. Eeek! I know I can do it and blessedly husband knows I can do it. Whenever I ask if he is getting nervous he just says "no way, I know that you can do this, no problem". Nice! I know I can too, but the thought is still scary. Anything unknown is scary though right? We'll see. I will just be relying on husband, wonder woman and God. :) Hope they pull throug! Hope *I* pull through. "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can". Maybe there is a deeper reason "The Little Engine that Could" has always been my favorite book. :) Such optimism! How can you not love that?

Tossing and turning

2007-09-08T03:29:00.000-07:00

I can't sleep..........again. I swear, I have spent the majority of this pregnancy, not sleeping. Very different from my previous two pregnancies, as I could have slept all day and night with those. Of course, nothing with this pregnancy is the same, so I shouldn't really be surprised that I am tossing and turning every night. Well, almost every night.

It's been a really rough couple of days with Isabella. My periods of where I am doing really good are getting longer it seems, so that must be a good sign. Or I hope it is, I don't really know. Husband said the other day that he thinks he is doing better than me because I still cry about her a lot. I think that is totally wrong, but I'm a woman and he's a man, and that means we don't agree. ;) I just miss her. It's that simple. I don't have anything more to say than that. I want to hold her again and kiss her again. I don't think anyone really understands how much of myself I gave to Isabella. How hard I fought every.single.day for her and because of her. How every night I would lay her down in her bed and know that it may be the last time I saw her alive. I would kiss her a million times and tell her how much I loved her just in case it was. Every night......for 14 wonderful months. It's so strange to me that it's over. My brain just can't seem to compute it yet. I asked husband if he ever thought it wouldn't feel strange to not have her here with us and he said "I doubt it." Me too. It still seems very strange to me that I will not watch Isabella grow up here on Earth. I will not ever see her running towards me, or hear her say "mama". It's just plain unfair! Sometimes, when Turkey throws one of his now infamous tantrums, where he literally hurls himself to the floor and screams "it's not fair!" I think to myself, "your right, it's not, it's not fair for any of us" and wish that I could hurl myself on the floor right next to him. Of course if I did that, at this point in my pregnancy, I wouldn't be able to get back up unless husband was around, who would probably be on the phone with the looney bin. Hey, at least Turkey would find it amusing. Or terrifying. Ha.

I'm really getting tired of the comments from family lately on how "wonderful" it will be for me once Rollie Pollie gets here. Like he's a replacement child for Isabella or something. Yes, because once Rollie Pollie arrives, I will just magically forget my daughter and "MOVE ON". Listen, I'm not ever going to "move on" from Isabella. I'm sure my feelings and thoughts on Isabella will change. I'm sure that I won't have this horrible heart ache everyday, forever. (or at least I hope not) I'm sure I will be happy again and my family will be happy again. HOWEVER, I will never, ever, leave Isabella behind. She is still my daughter. She is still Turkey's little sister and Rollie Pollie's BIG sister. (When I say BIG, I mean it, our girl was HUGE!) ;) Isabella's death does not change the relationship. Yes, it changes the dynamic of our relationship with her, but she's still who she was to us. I have to laugh to myself though, because I know it's not their need for US to move on, it's their need to move on. Too bad. As long as you are apart of my life, and coming to my home, you'll see Isabella and hear about Isabella. Always. If you don't like................well, I'm sure you know exactly where you can go without me even having to type it out. :O

I've really started to feel Isabella with me lately. I think she is trying to help me the way that I helped her while she was with us. I know she wants me to be happy, even if it is without her. I know she wants me to love Rollie Pollie, just like I love her. I hate that I feel guilty every time I get excited about Rollie Pollie........like I am betraying her. Of course, my logical self knows that is ridiculous, and that if she were still here, then I wouldn't feel that way. Of course I'd feel guilty that Rollie Pollie was about to take time away from Isabella. *sigh* Mothering has to be the most guilt inducing job EVER. No matter what you do, you feel guilty for something. It's never enough I guess.

Oh, I have to mention that I have some really incredible friends. I thought two friends of mine were having a housewarming party earlier in the week because they just moved in together. I had planned on going for a week and was really excited about it. Then of course, that afternoon, grief strikes and I'm a mess. A wreck. Really hating life. So I cancel, that way I can be totally pathetic and really feel sorry for myself. BAD, BAD idea!!!! One my friends calls me to see if I'm really not coming, I say "yeah" and she says, "well, the problem is that it isn't really a housewarming party, it's a SURPRISE BABY SHOWER FOR YOU!" I felt like the world's biggest BOOB ever! So of course I rushed of the couch (well, I Heave/ho'd) and was out the door in 1 minute. No make up, no fixed hair. Nothing. Those girls are SO sweet and went all out for me. :) Balloons, TONS of food, punch and cake, streamers and a gift :) I had so much fun, I stayed out until 10 pm! (I know, 10 pm is soooooo late, right?) Anyways, if you gals read this silly blog of mine, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. I really needed that and I will never forget it. Hands down, the best shower EVER. :) Plus, I have to thank you Miss Thang for the picture of Husband and I that I had never seen, from when we were a hot, young couple. Wow. Husband and I keep laughing over it, and it now has a home on the front of our fridge to remind us of who we were and how we can get back there! :) (minus the copious amounts of alcohol!) ;) I really can't believe I ever looked that young and carefree!! It was beyond fun to "remember when".....I have been doing that ever since that night. Oh, and Miss M. I hope you had fun with the helium!!!

Ok, I feel better now. Writing is so very theraputic. Oh, Rollie Pollie must feel better too, he's kicking up a storm. What a nice feeling. Ok, I need to try and sleep some more. Turkey's first soccer game is today and did I ever mention that I'm the head coach? Yes, me. Nevermind that birth is becoming increasingly imminent, I can still run! Ok, waddle really quick-like, but you get it. Wish us luck. GO LIONS!!!!

A Doula for me!

2007-09-01T05:38:00.000-07:00

Well, I am very excited about today. What is so special about today you ask? (ok, even if you didn't ask, I'm telling!) Husband and I are interviewing a DOULA today. If you don't know what a Doula is, go google it for crying out loud! I came to the decision this week that we (or really I) need a Doula for this birth since we are doing it au natural. I swear, with each baby I get a little "crunchier", Husband says I'm almost full blown hippie, which of course I am NOT. Really.

So, the Doula. She is so nice! I called her on Thursday and we talked for over an hour! She is so nice and very informative. I just don't think I can depend on husband to get me through this. He doesn't really know what he's doing, plus he's a busy guy. I mean, if you consider going to school full time, working full time and dealing with ME busy. I do. He just can't read all the books I need him to read, especially when he has really exciting Microeconomics books to read. I'm so jealous.

Now, that being said, husband *must* be there and *must* be my main support. He knows me better than anyone. He knows just how to talk me "off the ledge", so I *need* him there. Plus, I have a good husband and he *wants* to be there. He's so supportive with everything! He totally promotes no drugs, breastfeeding, baby wearing, etc. Kind of surprising when you examine his father.....ah, but we've already discussed wise old man haven't we? Well, here's another "pearl" for you. Wise old man thinks breastfeeding is GROSS and PERVERTED. Yeah, he's a wise one I tell you. Nevermind that God created us that way PERFECTLY, it's just plain GROSS. Okie dokie. He's probably just jealous! ;)

Now, I know a lot of my friends and my mom think I am "crazy" for doing this. But I swear I am not. It's really the way it should be done if it can be done that way. I will admit though, that as my due date approaches I get a little more nervous. Once again, that's where my little Doula steps in. She knows her stuff, she knows what to say and how to help me r-e-l-a-x. I am really not good at relaxing. It's just not my style, man! So, the nerves are coming. I'm sure that's normal. I mean, we are talking about me delivering one of husbands giganto children from a seemingly teeny tiny space. And the contractions.......oh the contractions. It all works out though, the body knows what's up and how to take care of business. I trust my body to do what's right. I think. Maybe. We'll see anyways!

Oh, and if you didn't know, today is the first game of my #1 team :) Ah, I can already here the Pride playing "Boomer Sooner" GO SOONERS!!!!!!

Another day

2007-08-29T06:35:00.001-07:00

Well, gee don't I sound excited about my "another day"? I am just tired and cranky this morning. Sleeping is no longer comfortable for me, I just heave and ho all night long to change positions. Lovely husband even said at one point "it's so annoying listening to you change positions all night." Right. Because it's extra fun to actually do it. Silly husband, he's lucky I love him so much ;)

The real reason I'm so cranky is because I've had something weighing on my mind and talking about hasn't helped yet, so I guess I'll write about it and see what that does for my peace of mind. And maybe, just maybe someone will read this, encounter someone down the road who has lost a child or will lose a child and will learn from what they read here and not be a complete moron. Maybe.

You see, when Isabella was diagnosed with Lissencephaly we had an outpouring of support, love and help. It was amazing, and almost spiritual. Husband and I just couldn't get over it........people didn't run from us, they ran to us! I will never forget that and cherish it to this day. Now fast forward to NOW and it's another story. It goes something like this: Isabella dies, our family and friends are fantastic the week she dies, then they are GONE. Poof. It's over. It turns out people don't really like it when a baby/child dies. Well, guess what? Neither do the parents! (shocking I know) I swear, if I didn't absolutely know better, I would almost swear that I am the carrier of some terrible, earth shattering plague. At least where people who know me are concerned. I either get the huge, sad, puppy eyes or I get total avoidance. Gee, which is better?? I went to my former workplace a few weeks ago (didn't want to go, I HAD to go) and it was the strangest experience. I mean, these people who rallied around me when I found out about my daughter's disorder scattered like mice when they saw me coming. Four out of the 12 people working said "Hi" to me. Most just avoided me and talked to my three year old. Afterall, he is safe, he won't talk to you about his dead sister. Or so you think.....hahaha. He told every.single.one of them that he was pregnant like me with his sister and he was bringing her back. Imagine the shocked and horrified faces. I just met every horrified stare with a big smile. Yep. That's my kid! We all talk about death in this family, there is no escaping us!!!!! Ok, so I'm clearly feeling a little sarcastic as well today.

That's not even the worst part. Husbands family is the worst part. It's like Isabella never even existed. She's dead, she's gone, let's move on and keep pretending we're perfect!! That's what we do best! Deny, deny, deny! Thanks to them my husband has a host of fantastic issues when it comes to our daughter. I shouldn't just bag on my in-laws, believe me my family can stink sometimes too, it's just that during this they have been *fantastic*, my mom has been my rock and my dad and brother are even great! My family is just so open and honest that I don't have to be afraid to talk to them or cry in front of them. They didn't ignore Isabella and they don't try to hide her now. But oh my, if I cried now in front of husbands family........wow. It would not be pretty. Let me just put it to you like this: the last time Isabella was sick with a pneumonia, it was a bad one. So, of course I was upset, because we never knew if "this was it" for her. So husbands emotion-less parents come over (who knows why, it certainly wasn't to provide words of support) and I'm holding my princess on the couch crying. Husbands wise father says "well, you need to just GET HAPPY in the SAME BRITCHES". I almost started choking at his wisdom. I have some little pet names for him, but I won't share them here ;) Anyways, I bit my tongue like I have a million times around that man, because really, what's the point? Oh, and the one and only time I didn't bite my tongue around him was the day we buried our daughter, wise old man offered another "pearl of wisdom" and since I did not agree with him (I never do) I spoke up. Enough was enough dammit! I just buried my daughter you thoughtless jerk! Well, guess where that got me AND husband? Basically disowned. Yeah. Really. Oh, and husband was told to keep me on a shorter leash. MWAHAHAHAHAHA. riiiiiight. So clearly, he really doesn't know me. That's husbands family in a nutshell. I said something wise old man didn't agree with, so now we don't exist and neither does our dead daughter. Well, guess what? She does exist and I will bring her up every time I see your faces just to make you uncomfortable. I guess if husband dies it will be the same thing. "He's gone, let's move on". For the record, if you ever die husband and leave me to fight the wolves that are your family by myself, I will really give it to you in the next life! :) I love you husband, I think I got the only normal one out of your family. Oh, just kidding. His whole family isn't nuts, just 75% of them. His sisters are great too, so I should mention that. It's really his parents, which is what makes it so much harder to handle. I can't imagine facing this without my mom. Much less my mom disowning me days after my daughter died because I said something she didn't agree with. Such is ignorance I guess.

Ok, so there is a real, honest vent to read. I know everyone has crazies in their family and I unfortunately am no exception to the rule. Death brings out the worst in people and I just don't get it. So please, if you know me, don't avoid me. Ask how I'm doing and don't be Afraid of my response. I WANT to talk about Isabella, no I NEED to talk about her. If it makes you sad or uncomfortable, DEAL WITH IT!, or better yet imagine how it makes ME feel. I live with it every second of the day and night. You don't. You just have to feel awkward for a moment, then you get to go back to your happy life, with your healthy kids. I wish my life could be so easy. Losing a child is not a contagious disease, ok? Don't act like it is! You won't "catch it" by being friends with me or asking how I'm doing. I promise. I have never known anyone in my life who has lost a child, I'm the first. Same for husband. We feel very alone in this. It would help a little if you wouldn't scatter or stare when we walk in a room. We are still the same people, just deeply wounded. I still have my same sarcastic sense of humor. I still love my life. There is simply a piece of me missing and if my arm were missing you would still talk to me. It's the same concept. My "arm" is gone and I will always miss it terribly, but it's not coming back.

Ok, time to go enroll Turkey in preschool. OMG. I'll save that for another day.............

some pictures of my sweeties

2007-08-28T18:57:00.000-07:00

Turkey holding Isabella, she loved to let her big brother hold her (and kiss her!)

one of my favorite pictures of Isabella, just after her shower with me!

Isabella at the park, isn't she gorgeous?

Together forever..................someday

2007-08-24T19:36:00.000-07:00

I am quickly approaching the three month mark of the death of Isabella and somehow her being gone doesn't seem real to me yet. Even still, when I think of it, it strikes me as so odd that she is really gone. I keep saying to Matt, "I can't believe she's really gone......." Do I expect her to come back? Not really. I am visiting her grave once a week now and I feel better about that. I was going everyday and it just made me so sad. Everytime I went I would just cry and cry, then go to my car, cry some more, then go home and yes, cry more. Besides, I know Isabella isn't really there, just her body, which is almost more than I can stand.

I keep re-playing in my head the night she passed away and having to give her away to some stranger and know that I would never kiss her sweet face again. I can hardly even type about it. I don't think I will ever come across a more difficult task than this in my lifetime. They gave us all the time we wanted/needed with Isabella before I told them to make the call. I think it was about 4 hours after she passed. Husband, Turkey and I just laid in bed with her for the last time. The funeral director is a wonderful man and made things as easy as I guess they could be. However, nothing could make the moment less traumatic for me. Now I am willing to admit that I briefly considered taking her and getting in my car and driving off. Now I kind of laugh at that, because of course, that's crazy. Where in the world was I going to take her anyways?? I don't think I even knew. I just knew that I didn't want to give her away. People can tell me until they are blue in the face that it was just Isabella's "body" not her "soul" and while yes, I believe that, her body meant a lot to me. It was her face that I kissed five million times a day. It was her body I bathed with mine in the shower a thousand times. I fed her and dressed her and hugged her to me. The physical loss is a huge loss and it's a pain that is so deep I've thought that I might actually die from it. So far though, I haven't, which I guess is a good thing! ;)

I had another parent of a Liss baby who passed away tell me that eventually I will forget the bad stuff like giving her body up and burying her. All I will remember are the times when she was alive and healthy. I really wish that would happen sooner rather than later, but I guess you can't rush this stuff. I truly believe you have to get through the bad to get to the good. If you skip the bad, you don't really heal the right way.

I miss her so intensely, I would just give anything to hold her one more time.....even on her most horrible "archy" day. I guess I should explain "archy", that was one of my many nicknames for her. Because of Isabella's Lissencephaly she would literally arch backwards like a giant C. Sometimes, if I let her, she could touch the back of her head to her bottom. Quite amazing to watch. I swear it was like she had no spine at all! Of course she did in fact have a spine and by the time she passed away I'm pretty sure she had some scoliosis from all that "wonderful" arching. :) Anyways, somedays she would just arch and arch and arch, and it usually meant something. Like, "put me down, I don't want to held anymore" or "pick me up! I want to be held again!" One time, I had her in her special "feeder" seat in my bedroom in front of the tv (she *loved* to watch videos with Turkey on a good vision day) and Turkey was watching with her while I took a quick shower. Well, 5 minutes into the shower Isabella starts whining a little (which was odd for her, she didn't whine/cry a lot), so I listened and eventually the whines got louder and angrier. I took a peak at her around the shower curtain and sure enough, she was arching right out of her chair. I immediately rushed out and grabbed her and knew exactly what she was so upset about. How dare mommy take a shower without me!!!! I laugh just thinking about it again. So I undressed her and brought her in with me and she immediately relaxed and went to sleep in my arms. My sweet girl. She loved her showers. My showers won't ever be the same without her. I took a shower with her every night the last three days she was on this earth. I will never forget the way she felt in my arms and how she loved to have the water rush over her head. (very odd considering she hated to have her head touched)

I miss you baby girl, and I love you so very much. I know we will be together forever someday..............

For once, some good news

2007-08-19T19:52:00.000-07:00

Well, we had our (hopefully) last ultrasound on Friday for Rollie Pollie. I am 28 weeks and time is flying by now! Things look really good, his brain is developing (Praise God!) and he's looking perfectly healthy in there. He is already a little on the big side, but I figured that. I have yet to have a small baby. Of course the OB's are already talking "Induction"....gee whiz I hate that. Why should I have to argue about when my baby is coming? Hello, I'm an intelligent woman, I know my stuff and I also know the *real* reason you want to induce. CONVENIENCE! I don't think so, you make six figures a year, you can come deliver my baby at 3 am! Or send a resident, I don't care, it's not like OB's do anything outrageous when you deliver a baby! They just catch, suction and pass it off to the nurses who do the rest. WOW. Of course, that's if everything goes right. :) I know that they do a lot more than just that, I'm just venting. I'll stand my ground and let this big guy come when he is good and ready. Only he knows when it's time, thankyouverymuch! Besides, I am doing this one without any drugs, so I really don't want the fake contractions. Those are waaaaaay worse than the real thing, believe me! Mother nature is much kinder than man in this case :)

Of course this last week has been full of emotion. I often wonder if I will ever reach a point in my life again where I am calm and at total peace with my world. It's been so long since I've felt that way. I can look at pictures before Isabella and it rips my heart out. Husband and I did a taped interview for a genetics something or other a couple of months before Isabella passed away. The interviewer asked us to describe our lives before Isabella. I totally lost it and husband almost did. I'm crying just thinking of it now. I feel guilty for feeling that way, like I have been so miserable since Isabella. That's not true at all. I had some real happiness when she was here, but it was hard. And life after Isabella is even harder. So when does my life get "easy" again? Ever? Was I really blissfully, totally and completely happy before Isabella? No, of course not. I'm not sure that is really possible. Was I blissfully ignorant to the cruelties of this world? OH, YEAH! Did I have my life mapped out perfectly? Yep. Did I have Isabella's life mapped out and our life together mapped out? Sure did. We were going to be best friends, I was going to be the best mom I could to her and always be there for her. We would go shopping together, talk about boys, teach her how to put on make-up, all that good stuff :) I just couldn't wait. I'm a pretty girly-girl myself and the idea of me having my own daughter was just too much! I did get to do some things with Isabella. I tried to really take advantage of my time with her. I made tutu's for her and bows, bought copious amounts of super girly clothes for her to wear. Everyday was a dress up day for us :) I had fun, even is she could have cared less. I went overboard in decorating her room, it's completely pink, with a splash of pink. Who knows if I'll ever get to do that again? I like to think that I will get to a point where I am really content again. Of course, I will be content and missing Isabella, but I hear that I will just learn to live with that pain and it will not always consume me like it does now. Here's hoping!

Now, life after Isabella is a whole other ball-game. Right now, it's a battle. A battle to not be completely lost and sad and all day. A battle to get out of bed and take on the world, because I have to, not because I want to. A battle to make her proud and remain the mom I was before she left me. I love my kids so much, I am so dedicated to my job. I have always wanted to be a mother. Not a doctor or lawyer, just a good mom. Like anything else, it's not as easy as I imagined or as glorious, but it's wonderful. I keep meeting these mom's who have also lost babies to genetic defects. God is really showing me that I am not alone in this battle. There are many, many mothers right there in the trenches with me. I met two of these mothers last night while volunteering at my church. Amazing women, who both lost their first borns shortly after birth because of defects. They were women like me, young, middle class, educated. They didn't do anything wrong, it just happened. It's funny, because they thought it was so much worse for me because I had Isabella for 14 months and then she died and I feel the exact opposite! I feel so blessed to have had her for 14 months! I have so many memories of her and pictures and videos, I love it. She was and will always be a real part of our family. Of course the other side always seems worse and I don't think one is actually worse than the other. The loss of a child is the same no matter if you had them for months or minutes.

I'm anxious for when Rollie Pollie gets here. I have so many conflicting emotions and thoughts. I know of course that I will love him just like I love all my babies, but it will be bittersweet. I should have three kids, instead I will have two. It seems lonely, only because one is missing. It wouldn't feel that way if he was really my second. I know Isabella is with us in spirit though. She came to me in a dream recently. She was a beautiful teenager which I thought was so funny. Also, we didn't talk much, I didn't go on and on with the millions of things I want to say to her and ask her. She simply said "I just wanted you to know that I have already met Rollie Pollie and let me tell you, he is a wild one! He will be trouble, but he will be so much fun!" :) I love to think that their souls have already met, Rollie Poilie just won't remember it. I will tell him later about my dream of course and let him know of his big sister's prediction for him :) Now we just have to see if she is right!!!

Good to be home

2007-08-13T11:23:00.000-07:00

So we are home again after our weekend away at the beach. Turkey had so much fun and it was nice spoil him rotten (like he's ever *not* spoiled, you get the idea). He loved the beach as expected, the water in Galveston isn't the beautiful blue waters of the Caribbean by any means, but it worked :) We all took a boat ride in the harbor to watch for dolphins (one of Turkey's favorite creatures) and we saw SO many! The captain said he were very lucky, but I think Isabella helped out a little for her big brother. He really enjoyed it and so did husband and I!! I felt like a kid again, getting all excited to see a fin move in the water. We also took Turkey to the Rainforest Cafe for dinner one night, what a neat place! He loved it and we spent a small fortune, but it was worth it. :)

I did pretty good most of the trip, had a few shaky moments, but recovered well. That is, until our last morning there. We woke up early and went straight to the beach to hang out for a couple of hours and then went to our hotel, cleaned up and decided to go by a couple of cool souvenir shops we had seen on the beach. Well, we get in the first one, I'm looking around at all the "crap" (that's all it is really, but I'm a huge sucker for "crap") and I see these cute little colorful cups with kid names on them. Innocent enough right? WRONG. Those tiny, stupid cups that I now loathe were just staring at me. I knew I shouldn't go over and look for her name on a cup, but I did it anyways. Of course, right there staring at me was THE cup, that read "Isabella". There was only one left. I wanted to buy it, but why should? She would never drink out it, hell she would have never drank out of it if she were still here! Now, I should tell you that there is even more meaning behind this cup, beyond the fact that it had Isabella's name it. Life can be cruel beast sometimes and I know this more than most. You see, two summers ago, we took a trip to San Antonio. At the time I was 8 weeks pregnant. I already knew that if we were to have a girl, her name would be Isabella. I already knew that I was having a girl. Not conclusively, I mean, I was only 8 weeks, but instinctively I knew I was having a girl. Well, lo and behold we were on our last day of the trip there and we went to The Alamo. Went to the gift shop. What do you think I found? That very same cup, with Isabella's name. We found Turkey's too and bought his, but husband would not let me buy the Isabella one because he said "you don't KNOW it's a girl yet and that's silly". I wish I would have told him to shove it and bought it anyways. So, I didn't buy the stupid cup the first time I saw it because I was just barely pregnant and had no real idea at that time that I was carrying my sweet girl. The second time I see it, I have had my sweet girl Isabella, and she is gone. That's just really unfair, don't you think? Needless to say I began weeping uncontrollably in the middle of the gift shop and husband had no idea why. I just put my glasses on and walked out. I have been crying on and off since then. I was so happy to get home last night and walk through my front door and see the giant picture of her on the wall!

Husband and I talked this morning about how different our lives are now. How strange our family feels. We are back to being a family of three, not a family of four. It's like a part of me has been severed and I don't know what to do without that limb. I am having to learn all over again how to be human, but with a part of me missing. A part that will not grow back, or be replaced. Gone. It's overwhelming really when it gets like this. I have good periods and bad periods, and right now I'm in a bad one. I find it so ironic that the vacation made me miss her so much more, but I know she would have been miserable! She would have hated the busy, loud restaurants, the beach would have been way too hot, she hated water, unless it was warm and I was holding her, we couldn't have taken the boat ride together (no wheelchair access), the list goes on and on. For the 14 months we had her here, we did not spend much time together as a family of four, so it strikes me as very odd that we notice so much how we are not a family of four any longer. It was always one of us staying home with Isabella and one of us going with Turkey somewhere fun that Isabella would not enjoy. I shouldn't say *always*, there were times when we all did stuff together, they were just fewer and farther between. Despite the stuggles, despite everything, we'd give anything to have her back. Of course, I'd really like to have her back and have her healthy. But alas, that it is not going to happen. At some point I know I have to accept that. Someday...........not now though.

I love you Isabella and you never leave my mind or my heart. You will always, always, always, be my Princess. Nothing could ever replace you in my life or my heart. I love you.

Perspective

2007-08-08T06:59:00.000-07:00

I've had several little epiphanies lately. All regarding my life and experience with Isabella. For so long I've had the questions of "why", "how", the "purpose", etc. It's funny how when something terrible and hurtful happens in your life you first think "what the.....?" and then later you gain perspective (if you look for it that is). I've been gaining perspective these last few weeks and it feels good. Isabella's purpose was so far reaching that it amazes me. Will I ever be able to see my own purpose as clearly as I see hers? Probably not. I truly don't believe that Isabella's purpose is even close to completion, and I really love that.

I now know that Isabella showed me some truly wonderful people in this world, which in turn showed me how I had become lost from the wonderful person I use to be. I was becoming very cynical and losing some of my compassion for others. I am working towards that "old" me now and it feels good. I use to love volunteering and helping others in any way I could! I use to have a heart!! I use to blow the little things off and just count my blessings. Isabella brought that all back to me. I met some really amazing and compassionate people who had TRUE good intentions for my family and I will never forget them.

On the flip-side, Isabella also showed me some of the real ugliness in some around me. That is always a painful experience, because don't we all want to believe that we chose the right people in our lives and have good judgment? However we don't always chose the right people (I'm exceptionally good at choosing bad people!) and we don't always have good judgment. I'm not sure why in the past I have always done that, but I'm more careful now. I finally learned my lesson......... husband is so happy, because he's warned me about *several* people in my past and I always told him he was wrong, and guess what? He was right every.single.time. Kind of frustrating! :) And although it's painful to see some people close to you are not good and kind, it almost always feels good when you "clean up" the friendship closet. You see, you gain perspective. For the first time in a long time I have great people around me, and thank goodness because I need good people more than any other time in my life right now. Thank you Isabella.

One more thing Isabella brought back to me. My faith. It started last winter and I was more surprised than anyone. (of course my mom was relieved, she feared I would be mad at God forever.) I was mad at God. Really, really mad. I needed someone to blame for her Lissencephaly, and God was an easy target for me. You see, I follow every rule in pregnancy, heck even BEFORE pregnancy. I don't eat x,y,z, I don't take ANY medications (maybe a tylenol), I try to eat good foods, I try to get my exercise, etc. So imagine my surprise to find out my daughter has a genetic birth defect. I was like "a WHAT?" But husband and I were so perfect, so "above that". HA. Turns out that isn't really true, and I was pissed. So God is totally responsible,right? He did this on purpose to my daughter, to my family! I will never love or trust in Him again! Wrong. Probably last November/December I began to make peace with that thought train-wreck. I don't believe God did this to Isabella on purpose or to Matt and I on purpose. Yes, I believe he saw it coming. Yes, he knew this would be more than difficult for us. BUT, He also saw that Isabella would do so much good. She would change her mother, her father, shape her older brother and change hundreds in her community and across the globe. Yes, across the globe. I have actually spoken with a woman in Australia who will always remember my Isabella and hug her children tighter and take them for granted less. Wonderful. I am a better person because of Isabella, I finally have a direction in my life that I had been longing for, for years. Matt is a stronger, better father. Jackson is the sweetest, most compassionate three year old you will ever meet. I still feel blessed in my life, if you can believe it. I feel blessed to be Isabella's mother. This little girl, who was powerless, had the power to change people around her and I am in awe. Oh, and I get to be her mother for eternity..........kind of neat :) So in the end, I realized that God is still GOOD and has my back, as usual. That never really changed. I just didn't see it at first. It's so hard to see things at first, isn't it? Those darn emotions usually get in the way. You just have to wait for the fire to simmer down and the smoke to clear and you will gain the perspective you need. Be patient, it's coming............

A much needed rest

2007-08-07T19:30:00.001-07:00

Well, it probably won't really be "restful", but we are heading to the beach for three days soon. I really cannot wait. We saved and saved for this and now it's finally here. Too bad I am officially in my third trimester and feeling the heat! I'm sure we'll manage to keep mama happy and comfortable though :O Turkey really needs this trip and since it's his first trip to the ocean he is so very excited. I wish we had the money to stay longer, but someday we will, I just know it.

Naturally, we first planned this trip to be with Isabella. I wanted at least one family vacation with her. Does it really matter? No. Would she have truly loved it? Probably not. But it was important to me, to have those memories. Of course when I think of it in a logical way, I know that Isabella hated changes of atmosphere and really disliked lots of people and noise. But she would have loved the ocean, I just know it. My sweet girl just loved to be outside, no matter when, no matter where. I like to think that she will be with us in spirit this weekend, enjoying the sun and water with us. See? I'm *trying* to be positive, here! If I'm going to be totally honest, which I might as well be, who is reading this anyways?, I will tell you that in my head I'm thinking "THIS IS CRAP!" "She should be here, she shouldn't have had Lissencephaly, I hate that WORD".

You know people are so funny. I hear the strangest things from those around me, and even though I know they mean well, it bugs the hell out of me. For instance, "someone" sat next to me on the couch the other day while visiting and I mentioned in the conversation "you know, since I've been depressed lately" and this "someone" looked at me in shock and said "your depressed?????" UH, YEAH. You know, since my DAUGHTER died and all, I just haven't felt real cheery! Somebody husband works with lately looked at him and said "so are you and wifey still sad?" Nah, I mean c'mon it's been two freakin' months.....we're totally over that whole mess! Yeah, man, we're still "sad". Gee whiz. If you are reading this, take a mental note and don't say crap like this if you ever have to deal with someone who has lost a child ok? Yes they are "depressed"......not clinically depressed, but SAD! I don't need prozac or anything, my SADNESS is justified! We are not more at peace with this because Isabella was sick or had an under-developed brain. I would be just as heartbroken if it were my normal child. I don't love Isabella less because of her shortcomings. That's not love. In fact, I love her MORE because of them. So there!

However I digress. I know I have a "serene, together" appearance. I can't help it....I'm not a weak person by nature, so I don't give that impression. So I guess I can't really blame people for being surprised that on the inside I am a totally different story. One woman described it perfectly. She said that I may appear like a duck on water.....floating peacefully across the pond, but underneath my little feet are paddling like crazy to stay afloat and maintain that calm apearance. WOW. That's really just perfect for what it's like to be me these days.

My main point though all this random babbling is that no matter what we do now, someone is missing. It's so intensely painful, and even though we push through and put smiles on our faces, believe me......when we get home at night we look at each other and say "I sure missed Isabella tonight". So when you see me smiling, laughing, pretending to be OK with my circumstances, I am always missing Isabella. I am acutely aware of who is missing in that moment of laughter. I'm sure that will never change for husband and I. I keep hearing and reading that eventually the pain will ebb and we will learn to live with our loss. But the loss itself will never change. She will always be the missing piece in our lives and yes, I think that just plain stinks.

So this weekend, we will go to the beach and I will love watching Turkey play and experience the ocean for the first time, but in my mind I will be wishing with everything in me that Isabella could be there too, it's what was supposed to happen, but did not.

I miss you Princess, I really do.

The beginning

2007-07-26T20:07:00.001-07:00

Tonight I have been thinking of the day we found out about Isabella's Lissencephaly. I think of that day quite often actually, and I'm not really sure if that's "ok" or not "ok". It's just an infamous day in my personal history, so I go there often, even though it is incredibly painful to do so. Perhaps I am hoping that by re-visiting it often, the pain will subside eventually? Who knows?

Anyways, the beginning. I woke up in the middle of the night (around 5am) for no apparent reason. Isabella was asleep in the co-sleeper beside my bed and something just didn't feel right to me. I looked over at Isabella to check on her and her eyes were wide open and looking upwards. She was also arched back and jerking in a rhythm. I immediately snatched her up, yelled at husband to "wake up!" and we rushed her into the kitchen. (later we would question why we did that and didn't just turn on the bedroom light.....it's amazing what you do when you are in a panic!) By the time we arrived in the kitchen she had stopped doing whatever it was that she had been doing and we just stared at her for a few moments questioning each other as to what that was. I'll be honest, right at that moment, I knew exactly what it was.....I was just not prepared to admit it to myself or my husband. It was a seizure. A plain as day seizure. As luck would have it, I worked in the ER as a secretary and knew all of the doctors there, so I called them up, knowing they would not diagnose her over the phone and that if I wanted answers I would have to bring her in. The question was, did I really want an answer to this? So we waited. We checked her temperature (I was so hoping for a high temperature to give reason for this seizure, but alas, her temp. was fine). We fed her. She went to sleep briefly and then suddenly woke up and had another seizure right there in husband's arms while we watched. My mind was reeling. "What the HELL is going ON????" So I decided to take her to the ER. Turkey was still asleep (it was almost 7 am at this point) and I convinced husband to stay with him; I didn't want to be that parent who drags their children out of bed to the ER.

So off Isabella and I went. I drove so fast to that ER the whole time saying to her "Don't worry sweet girl, everything is fine".......I don't know who I was trying to convince, her or myself. I started immediately to rationalize the seizures, "perhaps it's epilepsy?", "maybe her neurological system is just immature and it's working things out"......I mean, really, does that even make sense?

We arrived and everyone kind of started kidding me about being a paranoid mom, which I was so beyond grateful for. It kind of gave me the sense that things were really going to be alright and maybe I was just being neurotic! The doctor decided to just give her a Cat Scan and see how things looked before drawing blood or anything invasive. Of course, I couldn't have agreed more with that game plan! Especially since I was totally unaware that the Cat Scan would deliver the largest blow I had ever received.

I'll never forget the moment my life was changed forever. I kept waiting for the doc to come in and give me Isabella's results. I knew it was taking a really long time and I was getting irritated. I should tell you that my mom was an RN in this ER at the time and I had been trying to get a hold of her to tell her the situation so she could come be with me. When I saw my mom I was a bit puzzled, like "who called her?" and then I saw her go out of my line of vision with the doctor. That was when the first feeling of fear set in for me. Then it happened. So fast, it was like a freight train hit me head on and I couldn't move....I just watched it come at me and waited. The doctor walked in with my mom, who was already crying and he shut the doors. I immediately started crying and said "what is the matter with my baby!? Tell me right now!!" He walked over to me, sat down in front of me, touched my leg and said "Isabella has something called Lissencephaly" (which of course meant nothing to me), he went on, "her brain did not finish developing in the womb and it never will. She will be severely developmentally delayed". Now those are words I understood perfectly. No explanation needed, thanks. I vaguely remember screaming out "NO" or something and crying like I have never cried in my life. I just clutched Isabella to me screaming and crying. I remember thinking that he must be telling me lies, that he had something to gain by saying these awful things to me. This simply could not happen to me or my daughter. I'm young! I'm healthy! I follow all the rules when pregnant! What is Lissencephaly! I think they just made that up! That one moment, that seizure, changed everything for me and my family. I was beyond devastated and I won't even go into how horribly devastated my husband was when he got there and received the same blow. It still devastates me I suppose. It haunts me and sometimes I still can't believe this is my life, that I have had a child, loved a child and lost a child. I don't think any of us picture life unfolding in this way, I know I never did. I would get married to the man of my dreams, we would have 4 kids, a nice house and ride off into the sunset. Funny, life never really works out that way does it? The point is, do you lay down and take it, or do you fight back with everything in you?

In the beginning, I fought back. I went home that day from the ER (which was long, terrible day of EEG's, IV's, seizures and more) and immediately began researching Lissencephaly and brain development. I immersed myself in it. I became a pro, very quickly. I got Isabella in to see the world expert in Chicago by the time she was 12 weeks old, even though he had a 9 month waiting list. (He later told me I was the most aggressive parent he had met, and he meant it in a good way.) I researched and read until I couldn't see straight. I learned more than her neurologist would ever know about the disorder and then some. That was the first month. The beginning.

The second month post diagnosis was not so valiant. I cried every.single.day that month. I couldn't get out of bed sometimes. I wanted to quit. I'll even admit, I wanted to die. The pain was so intense I almost could not bare it. I ached so badly for Isabella. I wanted to fix her, I wanted to find a miracle cure for her. I wanted to give her my brain, to give her a better life to take away her seizures. I could not do those things and that was so painful and hard to accept.

I am at the end of the second month post-losing Isabella and let me tell you, it's just like that first second month. Hell, pure and simple. Way worse than the first month. I have cried so hard I vomited.........I have found myself staring at nothing for who knows how long. I don't want to cook (something I use to do with pleasure), I don't want to clean, I don't want to fix my hair. I just want to curl up and die. Now of course, I fight these things. I make myself clean, cook and fix my hair *most* days. Oh, and obviously I take care of and love Turkey. I try to hide this side of me from him and fake a smile for him whenever possible. I'm a fighter by nature and refuse to let life beat me down. Boy, life is a tough fighter though, a fierce competitor.

I'm looking forward to month three now though, it's when I got renewed strength after Isabella's diagnosis and I am hoping for the same thing this time around. I do have a lot of other things to live for and I do know that I will be happy again, it will just take time. I want Isabella to be proud of me and proud of how I live my life without her. I know she does not want me to "curl up and die", she wants me to live, so she can live through me here. And that is just what I intend to do. :)

An interesting weekend

2007-07-25T10:53:00.000-07:00

Husband and I went to a convention this weekend in Oklahoma City for The Compassionate Friends. It was "ok" I guess. I think we expected it to be more healing, but really it was just depressing. There is just so much sadness in this world and I hate thinking about all these children dying. It is just so sad........... We did go to a couple of good workshops though and then Sunday morning a bunch of us went walking in memory of Isabella, which was nice. I've actually been feeling a little better lately. I almost hate admitting that, because I'm afraid it will jinx it or something. This last month has been brutal and there was more than once where I questioned whether or not I was going to survive this. The loss of Isabella is just so profound, it hurts. I just can't really believe that I will never hold her or see her again on this Earth. It boggles the mind........ Of course I am a Christian and I truly believe we will be united again someday!!

Turkey has been handling this so well, he really amazes me. God has really prepared him in the most awesome way for this experience. Of course, he has a hard time understanding "forever" and I don't blame him! I'm an adult and I have a hard time understanding that concept myself. Turkey does still cry from time to time to see "sister" again. It's so tough to have those conversations with him, because I have to control my own sadness. I can't be there for him if I'm a mess and believe me, it is so hard to not start crying when he's upset. Not only am I heartbroken for him, I'm heartbroken for myself. *sigh* He has been telling husband and I that he is pregnant with "sister" and that he's bringing her back from the angels (via his belly) Oh how I wish!!!! Also we have a very large picture of Isabella in our living room now so she can "watch over us" and yesterday he asked her to come out of the picture. I just about lost it. Turkey and I feel the same way it seems :) He's a sweet kid and loves his sister! They had an amazing bond, despite all her limitations. She would just light up for Turkey and would always let him hold her (which is miraculous, believe me).

Everyone keeps telling me to take it one day at a time, and that's what I'm doing. It's definitely more difficult than I imagined being pregnant while grieving a child. I hope having this new baby turns out to be healing. I worry about post partum depression and all of that, so I am really trying to take care of myself and grieve and work through my emotions NOW, not later. Having a new baby will be very bittersweet for us I think. I know I'll be happy to have him and love him just as much as my other kids, but it will also be a painful reminder of all that Isabella could not do in life. These little blogs of mine should prove interesting over the next few months. :)

So.......

2007-07-18T20:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm not really sure why I am doing this whole "blog" thing. I guess I'm hoping it will be theraputic or something, you know, because writing about your life for the whole world to read is healing! Ha ha.

I guess I should get right to the point and just tell you that my Princess, Isabella died on May 31st of this year. She was 14 months old, and one of the lights of my life. She was born with a rare genetic condition called Lissencephaly. Basically that translates literally to mean "smooth brain". Oh, and it sucks. We found out when she was 6 weeks old because she started having tonic clonic seizures in the middle of the night (I'm such an awesome mommy, I woke up and saw her having them). Needless to say, devastation ensued but we dealt with it accordingly. I loved Isabella anyways of course and became so determined to try and make her life as comfortable as possible. I won't bore you with the details of her 14 months here, it was difficult, beautiful, wonderful, tragic and magic all at the same time.

I also have a wonderful (and healthy) son who I will refer to as "Turkey" who just turned 3. Oh, and I'm pregnant with baby #3, a boy (who also hopefully healthy) named Rollie Pollie (not really!). So yeah, life is complicated to say the least right now.

I found out I was pregnant back in February and had so many mixed emotions. Could I take care of Isabella and a new baby? What about Turkey? What if Isabella died while I was pregnant? (turns out that was a valid fear), would this baby have the same disorder? (we were given a next to nil chance that it would happen again, but somehow that failed to convince us completely).

We decided to be cautiously excited and so far, so good. This baby does not have Lissencephaly or any other common abnormalities. As for the not so common.....who knows? Scary stuff, genetics.

When Isabella became ill that last week in May, I just didn't see it coming. It wasn't her usual pneumonia or anything else that I had seen from her. She just seemed to be "shutting down". She was in Hospice (praise God for those saints!) so I knew she would remain home with us and be comfortable. The downhill spiral started literally in the middle of the day on a Saturday, by Tuesday we knew she was dying and on Thursday at 8:30 pm, she flew away to Heaven while in my arms. Just typing that brings tears to my eyes. It was the most difficult, peaceful and beautiful experience of my life. I miss her so much, it physically hurts. I hate Lissencephaly. I hate that this happened to my daughter. Sometimes I blame myself, even though I followed all the pregnancy rules religiously, I guess I feel like my body failed her somehow. Perhaps it was my egg or something......... You know, geneticists say that most defects actually do come from the mother, as our eggs age and sperm does not since it is regenerated. (Don't tell my husband that!)

I guess that's enough "heavy lifting" for now, I really need to TRY and get some sleep, although sleep does not come easy these days.............