Monday, December 31, 2012

My Whole World...2012


That's my whole world.

Without doubt, this has been another very tough year.  Starting out with a new IVF cycle that was as wildly successful (relatively speaking, of course) as it was really was just icing on a very delicious cake that has been my life since Luke was born.

And then the icing was gone.

We lost another baby boy, Trey, in April.  Unexpected (though Luke and I had been sick with strep, Norovirus and bronchitis my entire pregnancy), I was sort of back at that grief-place I'd not been in a while.

Why?  Why even let me get pregnant if You are not going to let me keep him? (Again.)

And with such, such different support.  Still blessed, without doubt, but with questions like, "Why did you even name it?" or comments like, "It's easier to lose earlier than later," and "It's not the same as when you lost Matthew,"I admit that I spent a large portion of this year biting my tongue and praying for strength to be graceful.  There is very, very, very much a discrepancy in how people view miscarriage vice how they view neonatal death and it's extremely hurtful and isolating.

In addition to the full, fresh cycle in January, I also went through a frozen transfer, another fresh cycle that was canceled and another fresh cycle did not result in pregnancy.  All this by September.

I was busy.  My body was busy.  I found a lump and thought about the irony in that...all I've gone through to build my family and then I end up leaving the one I actually get to raise motherless.

Good times.

The shootings in Connecticut have been really horrific for my PTSD.  I hate even saying that, because certainly, the loss of those lives is NOT about me, but the feelings that go with my empathy for those families have triggered some very panic-attack anxieties in me.

I remember what it feels like to have that brick wall hit you in the face.  Who dies of labor complications anymore?

I remember what it feels like to have stockings hung and Christmas presents waiting, but the intended will never breathe again, much less come home to those gifts.

I remember Christmas songs about being the most wonderful time of the year coming on and wanting to throw up because that was the LAST thing I was thinking.

I remember what it feels like to pick a grave out instead of take your child to see Santa.

I remember.  Like it was yesterday.  Five minutes ago.

And it still makes my heart physically ache and takes my breath away.

This has been a busy year for John too.  His job and his career have been challenging.  In the way that really great things are challenging, but challenging nonetheless.  We are but weeks away from him deploying for up to a year, and honestly, I don't even now how my heart is going to be able to handle watching him hand Luke to me one last time as we drop him off.

Luke is his whole world too.

There is much to be said about the strength of military wives and mothers.  I agree--we are pretty fabulous.

Honestly, though, I also feel like it's easy to be so because I win no matter what.

John is home?  We have Luke.

John is gone?  I have Luke.

I have Luke.

Praise God, I have Luke.

If I am truthful, I don't want John to go, of course.  Since he is, though, and there's no changing it, I won't lie and say I'll wish the time to pass quickly.

I want him home quickly, no doubt.

But time is moving too, too fast.  Too fast.

I'll never, ever, ever wish a second of Luke's life to move faster than it already does.

Accepting that we are not going to have any more children has been hard for me.

Is hard for me.  I want the ones I've carried here with me, and I would love more too.

I've always wanted to mother many children.  I didn't realize I'd need to be more specific in my wants and want them to be alive as I mothered them.

And now, we are done.  We will not pursue any more IVF.  For various reasons, and admittedly, mostly out of fear because of our own or close friends' experiences, we will not pursue adoption.

Babies don't just show up on doorsteps.

We are done.

Which makes me cherish and adore every single second I have with Luke.  Even the ones where he is swatting because he's mad or screaming because I can't find his 'Ah-hoe' (backhoe) fast enough or refuses, refuses, REFUSES to eat...every single second of that child's life is an amazing blessing and gift to me, and neither John nor I take that gift for granted.

2013 will be quite the year, no doubt.

I recognize that I will be challenged to parent for two, and will do my best to compensate for the time apart on both John's and Luke's part.

John and I will both turn 40 in just a couple of months.  Wow.

Luke is changing and growing SO.MUCH.EVERY.DAY.  His words, thoughts and actions are so...

...little boy.

So less and less baby.


In any event, here's to 2013.  Grateful for so much I have, and looking forward to the adventures Luke and I will have as we pray for Daddy's (and so many others') safe return home to us.

Some recent pictures...

Not digging Santa at all.  In fairness, Santa was grumpy.

Silly Christmas Morning!

Mommy was a little bit worried about how to stop going so quickly!

He had a blast with Daddy!

Wintergreen for New Year's!  Family time before daddy leaves!


  1. (((((((((((((((((xoxoxoxxxoxo))))))))))))))))))

  2. What a happy/sad/hopeful post. I had a smile in parts, and tears in parts of your post. You have had quite a year, and I'm thankful to have walked along in parts with you.

    P.S. A sincere thank you, to your husband, you and Luke, for John's service...

  3. Happy 2013, love! You will be great during John's deployment. It will be hard at times but you will have empowering moments and will make the most of your time with Luke.
    When John left in May of 2011 I wrote a blog post about the time dichotomy. Your thoughts reminded me of my own.
    Praying for you, your happiness, John's safety, and of course for sweet Luke (eat, kiddo!!!).

  4. It has been quite a year with so many things. I will be praying for your family as John deploys. I'm hoping that 2013 is full of peace and blessings for you and your family, and maybe a few surprises only of the wonderful kind.