I've got the right stuff!!

Ok, Ok...be warned....this post is going to SCREAM with my excitement about going to see....

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK!

I know, I know...they are men, husbands, dads...even a little bit creepy in their new video with those little hoochie mamas they are dancing with, but I don't care. I LOVED THEM in my high school days. Let me emphasize the word LOVE just a little bit more. LOVED THEM. I had my room covered with their pictures, magazines, scrap books--sang all the songs, loved the dances, went to see them in concert (with Tiffany!) and basically worshipped everything that was NKOTB.

Now, I should tell you, I feel like sort of a heel because the ticket is coming via a sweet little girl's decision to be kind and let me have her ticket. Nanci, of Nanci's Nikes, bought two tickets--one for her and one for her sweet 5 year old. This was before she knew that I LOVED them (funny how we find out things about friends in the oddest ways) and thought she might be able to talk her daughter into Disney on Ice or something like that so that I could go and be a crazy fanatic with her. She let her daughter make the decision (THANK YOU, GA) and she decided that Miss Lori should go with her mommy. So, now, I get to go!! 3rd row seats. They cost an arm and a leg, really, but will be SO worth it if nothing for the good time we are bound to have together and the lovely trip down memory lane for me. I'll just be Hangin' Tough until October. Ha ha.

As for adoption news....well, glad I rushed around to do all I did yesterday. Because today was NADA. I had a terrible migraine, and was out of my Imitrex (AGGGGGGGHHHHHH) and since I no longer have a doctor (thank you, military health care) and couldn't get an appointment (again, thank you military health care) with anyone else...I suffered. No matter, though because after faxing all that stuff to Ally, and emailing a couple of questions, I heard nothing from her today. So...maybe she finally got tired of me being a big pain in the butt. I know I would! Honestly, though, there's a LOT to go through, so I am sure she is just going through it. I had already resigned myself to not getting to actually send the dossier until I got back in July, and that's still the case, so no worries.

I'll save my worries for the fact that I am about to leave the country for A MONTH and have not yet packed a single thing. Not one thing. I am leaving tomorrow...well, at least for mom's, since she lives by Dulles and we leave Saturday AM, and have NOTHING prepared. No mail stopped, no medicine refills picked up, no itineraries for family members in case we need to be reached, nothing but my little Rick Steve's Italian popular phrases book I bought yesterday. I'm crazy. I would like to note, though, I do my best work, and always have, under pressure. I think that's why God gave me the wiring he did--as much as the anxiety KILLS me, He knows that I thrive under those MUST DO conditions...and I really do. So, I am not worried about packing. I'll pack what I can, get what I can get done tomorrow done and be off to Europe for a month...praying I come back to my lovely little immigration approval form.

Thanks for the comments about the gas pump! In hindsight, I laugh hysterically. That is so typical of my life. Good friends of mine say that those kinds of things only happen in LoriLand. I agree. LoriLand is a quirky little place to live, let me tell you!

Until the next post, I'll Be Loving You Forever! (TOLD YOU I WAS EXCITED!)

Today's post is sponsored by the letter 'P'

Well, as I'm a big fun of the always entertaining Maria, I read her list of 'B' loves...and told her I was game for being assigned a letter... so.... here goes!:

Here are the rules…If you want to play, leave a comment on this post letting me know, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things (after doing it, I realized I ended up with 11, but oh well!) you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on!

My letter is 'P' --

People! Yes, that's right, I love people! (Even you, mean anonymous blogger who wrote another mean, loser email to me! I'm thinking you just don't have enough love in your life (or a real life to attend to) and so, I feel really bad for you and just LOVE YOU TO DEATH!) Anyway, I am, what you call, a 'People Person' and always have been. Maybe because I love to talk, and people are required for conversation. Well, not really, but the wall is not as much fun to talk to as PEOPLE are!

Purses! I won't lie, as I get older, matching my purses is not as big a deal to me as it used to be, but I do love cute purses--especially with matching shoes. I'm a cheapskate, so I won't pay much for them, but REALLY love getting them as gifts since I won't dish the bucks out!

Presents! I really am one of those people who loves giving presents as much as I love getting them! Maybe even more. I just truly enjoy finding that perfect thing for someone I care about and then watching them really enjoy it. In the spirit of honesty, I like getting them too, though I am hard to buy for, I know. I like to be surprised, but hate to be surprised with good intention but bad application...my poor dear husband knows this! In any event, presents are a great joy in my life!

Purpose! I am a purposeful person. I like to have a plan, and I like to have drive. Some call it high-strung. Potato, Po*tah*to. Either way, I like knowing I was put here on this planet for a reason, and I daily ask for guidance and help from God in filling my purpose.

Plans! Falling right in line with loving a purpose, I love a good plan! Heck, I'm okay with a bad plan. I just NEED a plan. I worry about things not because I like to worry (I don't) and not because I am a pessimist (I'm not) but because if I worry about EVERYTHING--worst-case scenario included--I can PLAN for it. And then, I don't worry as much. Sensible or not, it is who I am.

Prayer! I find great comfort in knowing that I can pray to my Lord any time, any where, for any reason--PERIOD. Prayer to me is like talking to a wonderful Friend--safe, comforting, understanding...just a nice warm blanket that I can wrap around myself. Even when I pray in desperation, and sadly, the human in me does that a lot, I am safe.

Pictures! Pictures and photographs are so beloved to me. They are memories never forgotten and they are precious. One of the things I love best about my hallway upstairs is all the old family pictures of John and me on the walls. I love taking pictures, and would really like to be a photojournalist. I think it would be very cool.

Principle! I'm very principled. Period. I believe right is right and wrong is wrong and that it is my job to make sure that justice prevails. I'm very firm in my beliefs, and am not easily swayed. Being this stubborn is often hard for me because I also try my hardest to not judge others. I truly believe we are not to judge, lest we be judged, but make no mistake. I will not 'ram' my beliefs or principles down your throat, but I'll be darned if you try to insinuate mine are any less worthy because they are 'churchy' or religiously-based. I believe in fair play for opposing sides, and I believe in the end....well, we'll all know without a doubt what the truth is.

Puppies! Oh, am I a sucker for the puppies! And the kitties. And the bunnies. And the baby goats even. Heck, anything baby is just about the best thing EVER, but I really do love the pups! I am a dog lover (bet you couldn't tell) and just can't think of too many things that are cuter than a sweet little wrinkly puppy giving you those little licks with that puppy breath. Pure bliss.

Of course, they then grow up into the prissy, persnickety little Diva that my Dixie Belle is, but still...she was so darned cute as a puppy!

Parents! (And Grand-parents!) I love my parents. I tear up as I type this because I miss my mom so much. My mom and I were very similar in a lot of things, so sadly, lots of conflict! But lots and lots of love too. My mom is the reason behind my love of purpose, prayer, pictures, people...(NOT a planner, though!)...my mom chose life when she chose to have me, and for that, I'm eternally grateful. My dad was a man, who chose me as well. He loved my mom, so he loved me. He took me to the Spelling Bee, taught me to love Beef with Broccoli and walked me down the aisle. Lord knows if nothing else, my dad tries to be the best dad he knows how to be, and I am blessed. My grandmothers (didn't have grandfathers, really) so loved me. My Grandmother Gosnell acted as if the world revolved around me (I totally dug that!) and I know it was because she just loved me and thought I could do anything. My Grandmother Mullins, especially as I became an adult, was so thankful for my continued contact with her when other cousins didn't have so much...she may have had her reservations about my mom and dad when I was a baby, but I know she loved me and thought of me as her own flesh and blood. She even told people I got my hair, skin and eyes from her!

Best of all, I got more parents! John's dad was a wonderful man, and again, I tear up as I think of him. He was kind, generous, intelligent, and just an incredible man. I always felt like he was pretty pleased with the gal his son brought home, and loved him so much. One of the (few) benefits of being stationed here at Pax River is how close we are to 'home' in Northern Virginia. It is very comforting to know that John's mom is so close by and always welcomes us 'home' with open arms. Being in the military, home sort of loses meaning, but whether it's because she still (after 16 years!) makes sure 'our' bathroom is clean when we get there, or because she makes us wonderful home-cooked meals or just because she lets us bring our dogs and doesn't grimace once (to US, at least!) about it--home is home because mom always makes it so for us. She's also generous and thoughtful and I'm so lucky to call her mom.

Pensacola! Oh, the beach in Pensacola is absolutely beautiful! I've been to the West Coast and seen the Pacific, I've been to Italy, I've been to Greece, I've been to Croatia, I've been to the Bahamas, I've been to Hawaii....all lovely, I give you. But I have to say that my favorite beach of the whole world is Pensacola...and mostly because that beach's town was home for us for a few years and home for so many wonderful memories for us! Now granted, we were newly married, with John in flight school, so it was tough at times, but we had such a network of wonderful friends! You always hear about how you make friends in the military that stay with you forever, right? Well--for us, Pensacola did not disappoint! Pensacola didn't just provide a wonderful town, wonderful beach, wonderful church and wonderful fun, but FAMILY that we treasure to this very day. Pensacola is my dream retirement place.

WOW! I thought P was hard! Then, I got on a roll and now I've thought of so many more! I love pansies, popcorn, princess crowns, pink frilly dresses, polka-dots, pajamas, penguins, peace, plump pillows, playing cards and board games, popsicles, potato-chips, pickles, pilates, price mark-downs and passports...oh, and to think I was dreading P!

If you are interested in a letter (if you are still reading this incredibly long post) just say so!!!

Butterfly Mommies...

...a group which I have sadly, but thankfully become intimately part of.

Mommies who have babies in Heaven.

Each month, a different question relating to the loss of one's child or children is posed and answered by women all over blogland.

This month's question is:

"What forms of support helped you the most during your time of loss and even now? How would you recommend other people support grieving mothers?"

Ironically, Butterfly Mommies as a group and in every woman who is a "Butterfly Mommy" has been such tremendous support, and continues to be so.

I have often said, though I imagine I've not relayed it anywhere near as emphatically as I mean it, that I have been overwhelmed with the support John and I have received...from the first, "It's positive!" to the last person standing at Matthew's grave to this very minute, somewhere, I'm sure...we have been and are lifted in prayer and good wishes and love and care.

In the hospital, I was surrounded by people praying for me, crying with me, holding me, assuring me, comforting me and lifting me up. I could not believe how many people were praying for me, seriously. I guess in the medical field, I didn't expect such blatant faith to be found (sad, I don't know why...) and yet from my OB to the Labor and Delivery Nurses to surgical assistants and my anesthesiologist...SO . MANY . PRAYERS. So much scripture thrown at me and covering me. Words simply cannot express my appreciation. One of the nicest things I think anyone has ever done for me was that night in the hospital. I was waiting for John to come back to our hospital from Georgetown, and Matthew had been gone for less than two hours. I realize now I was in shock. My nurse, Jayde, came into my room and asked if she could massage my feet. I guess, I don't even remember. I just remember sitting in one of the rocking chairs, with her at my feet, using some lavender lotion and massaging my feet. I wish I could think of the right word to describe what I felt in that moment--she rubbed my feet so softly and so, well--lovingly for lack of a better word. In that act, I actually felt as if the definition of compassion was staring me in the face. So much of that night was a blur, but Jayde stands out as clear as yesterday.

I had follow-up from Labor and Delivery for several weeks, with calls or cards. My favorite perinatologist in the world, Dr. Sweeney checked in on us constantly and told us it was his personal vendetta to help us continue to build our family. My OBs, Drs. Shonekan, Polko and Davis couldn't have been more comforting if we had written a script for them.

Georgetown was wonderful. John was all alone there with Matthew, and as Matthew died in his arms, he was then all alone. The nurses and doctors in NICU hugged him and comforted him. He was not alone.

Our church family was simply amazing. My pastor was our first 'visitor' and shared what had happened (for those who weren't on Facebook or our text distribution lists) with our church. People poured in to support us with meals, prayers, books, cards, flowers, gifts, visits, donations to our organizations, funeral and reception arrangements and so much more I can't even think of. Still, 18 weeks later, that happens. They continue to lift us in prayer and love on a regular basis and we feel it every day.

Our military family immediately enveloped us. John's squadron and the Marines jumped in with my church, and we had meals for over two months. TWO MONTHS. We were given so many varied memorial gifts and donations in Matthew's memory. Our church was packed for the funeral, though I sadly couldn't tell you much about it all. One thing I do remember, though, is that I had never seen so many grown men, many in uniform, crying so openly and fervently. I am forever grateful that our military is so capable in strength and honor, while so tender and familial with John as we mourned our son.

My school communities--here in Maryland and in North Carolina--threw their arms around us and sent cards, letters, donations, emails, phone calls, gifts, love, compassion and support in so many different ways. I have always considered it such a privilege to be part of each and every one of my students' lives--and have been so blessed to have built relationships with some of the most incredible families ever. Their support, years after I was "their child's teacher" still blesses me.

I have amazing friends. I have friends who started off as 'parents' or 'colleagues' and now are such fun, encouraging, and wonderful people in my life. I am constantly surrounded with love, even if it's a simple email that says, "Thinking of you!" I have friends I've met from elementary school right up through college (thanks, Facebook!) who continually lift me up, pray for me, check in on me and rally behind me.
I have girlfriends I have known for as long as John and I have been married who are like family to me. They always have been and always will be. I have friends who call me each week (funny how this 'free' therapy is the best kind!) for no other reason but that they love me. Oh, what those conversations mean to me!
I have 'online' friends who never cease to amaze me in their support, care, cheerleading, grieving, validating, laughing and loving on me. I know many may think of the computer as such an impersonal thing with regard to communication, but seriously, I do NOT KNOW what I would have done this last four months without my computer. Finding and getting to know so many women, for so many different reasons (infertility, adoption, pregnancy, pregnancy loss, general blog hopping!) has been such a joyful thing in my life. Such a strong network--it's just amazing.
Oh, do I have friends.

And I have family. Since we told her we were pregnant, mom has been taking such care of me and John. She was with me when I was on the phone with John as Matthew died. She was with us for nearly a month after. When Matthew died, the highways and skyways were on FIRE because our family came running. I think one of the reasons Dr. Shonekan let me go home less than 24 hours after the surgery (aside from the fact that she knew I had to get out of there) was because she knew that I was going to be well taken care of, and she was right. There was more crying, laughing, feeding (not so much eating on my part) caring and loving in that week after Matthew died than I could have imagined possible. As I say all the time...words simply can't describe those days, but I am so thankful for every person in them.

Oh my...this doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the support I received and still receive to this day. I am truly overwhelmed.

As far as how I'd recommend others supporting grieving mothers? Well, I certainly don't want to offend anyone and be presumptive enough to say I know how others could support grieving mothers. I can say how I'd like people to continue supporting me.

Please keep remembering that I am a mother and I had a baby. Please be excited for another child we may be blessed with, but always, always, always remember that he or she will be Matthew's brother or sister--ANOTHER child, not A child. I had A child. A wonderful and treasured little boy.
Please remember that and remind me that you remember any way you chose--whether by telling me you bet he'd have been a rascal like his daddy or you can see his chin in his little sister or brother one day.

Please keep sending emails or texts or little messages or songs or poems, etc. I know I don't respond to them all the time, but I hope you know how much I appreciate each and every single one. There are days where those things simply get me through to the next half-hour.

Please keep calling me to talk to me. Even if I don't answer (and I know, I'm bad about it), please do. Much like emails or messages, some days those phone calls are the only things that keep me from sitting on the sofa crying my eyes out. I may cry with you on the phone, but know that when I get off the phone, I really do feel like I have been thought of and supported and can keep going for just a little bit longer.

Please keep inviting me to lunch or coffee or shopping or pedicures or whatever. I'll be honest and say that 9 times out of 10, I'll probably not be able to bring myself to say, "Yes," for a myriad of different reasons, but you will never know how much that one time I do say, "Sure," makes such a difference in my day and my life. It really, really does.

Mostly, keep praying for us and letting us know you are. Pray for our hearts to continue to build the scar tissue we know will be with us for the rest of our lives. Pray for us to continue looking to God for His comfort and assurance and presence. Pray for our family to continue to grow--however that may happen. Please, just keep praying for us.

He's Already HOW Old??????

Six weeks! I just cannot believe he was born 4 days into January and it is already halfway through February! We are (thanks Grandma!) planning for a big family vacation at CHRISTMAS time, and things are already booked! This year is flying by...I feel very overwhelmed most days, with how much time I seem NOT to have and things I seem to NOT get done.

Then I think about what I DO get done...spending an entire day with a sweet boy. Still no routine, which is soooooooo difficult for someone like me to adjust to. Right when I feel like we might have a bit of one, it changes. So, I am trying very hard to get used to the idea of just not having a schedule at all. Again, every fiber of my TYPE A-Being screams at that, but at this point, I just have to surrender or I'll drive myself crazy trying to get everything I got done before Luke was born done AND tend to him all day. My once-a-month counselor told me that I sound like I am trying to be responsible for far too much and need to just be responsible for myself and Luke right now...and the rest will fall into place.

I feel more like the rest is falling apart, ha ha! In any event, I'm allowing myself some leeway in getting things done. If I can get one or two things on a list complete, I'm super happy.

A post each week for Luke, at minimum, is on the list for today, so I'm thrilled I can get it done. Of course, as I type, I hear him cooing away on the monitor, so not sure how many details I'll get out!

He's had a few rough nights in the last week, but still, nothing like I know so many with newborns have. More just getting up more often because he was out of sorts, but not having to spend lots of time getting him back to sleep. John is pushing to get him into his bedroom because he thinks I'll sleep better when I can sleep but he forgets that I'll STILL be on hyper-aware for every sound, and him being further away will be MORE work for me!

He also has the nasal congestion still, and now some lung congestion and the sometimes-runny eye. We see the doctor on Friday for a growth check (his cheeks are filling out and his diapers are always full, so I am fine with his growth!) and I'll ask about this congestion, his eye and this rash he seems to get randomly. It's all over his face--well, mostly cheeks and a teeny bit behind his ears. It comes and goes--no real rhyme or reason. Sometimes, his skin looks just as clear and perfect as it ever has. Then, for no reason, it looks like he has horrible, horrible baby acne. Then, for no reason....just a little bit of a rash. It's sometimes raised and bumpy, others just red. The consensus seems to be that it's probably some sort of a heat rash; John thinks it's cradle cap (he did have a bout with some dandruff for a few days, but it's gone) and I am wondering if he may have some allergies.

Whatever it is, I have to say that it has taken everything I can possibly do to not have been to the doctor the second I saw the first bump. I am working very hard to not overreact to 'normal' newborn things, but have to say...it's hard. Again, in talking with my counselor, she validated so much for me. The reality is that I do NOT have any idea of what a 'normal newborn' experience is.

My experience with newborns is that they die and leave me brokenhearted. So...it stands to reason that I will worry about every little thing and that is not just to be expected, it would be very weird and detached of me if I didn't. Have I mentioned how much I love this counselor? She suffered a miscarriage nearly 40 years ago and she GETS it. She GETS how hard it is to be a 'normal' mom to a 'normal' baby when you are actually a very unusual mom to a baby that is nowhere near NORMAL simply because he LIVES! I love her and am so grateful for her constant reassurance and empathy.

As usual, I try to temper my worry with action and feel like I am doing ok with the balance. I admit, though, I'll feel better Friday after talking to the doctor and just getting the official reassurance that he's fine.

He has had a few more outings this week and done well. We've been to church twice now and he is pretty good. During the week, we call his "Hands Up" position Jazz Hands, but on Sunday, they become Praise Hands and he is so cute! He pretty much sleeps through it all and for now, I'm glad so I can have him out of the nursery for just a bit longer...cold and flu season babies get a bum deal!

I have to be 100% honest. I am a huge, huge, huge fan of breast milk.

Not so much of breast feeding. It could be that again, the Type A in me makes it more difficult than it should be--worrying about whether he's getting enough and hating that sometimes he'll eat for a few minutes and others, forever...not being able to predict that.

I think it's more that we just don't have the 'groove' for the latching...and not only is it painful sometimes, it's just frustrating--especially at 2:30 in the morning. He'll do a great latch and then pull off...and we go again. This happens maybe 8-12 times a feeding. Each side. He just never seems hungry enough to put much effort into eating, and I know I am making all my lactation consultants and La Leche Friends cringe when I say this, but seriously, pumping to bottles is looking more and more like the option for us. I realize it's more work, but honestly, it's controlled work, and I feel more like I could deal better with that.

I know that not many people want to know about this, or really care (surely Luke won't when he's older and reads this!) but I am writing about it because I have been really humbled in this whole process and feel like I ought to come clean in that confession.

I've obviously come to 'know' over the last 2 years many, many mommies--through blogs that deal with infertility, pregnancy, loss and pregnancy after loss...I've read and follow so many different women with babies and have read about their ups and downs. Most times, when reading about the frustrations of breast feeding, in my comments, I'd say, "You do what's right for YOU!" and truly, truly, truly meant it. In my head, though, I'd think, "But WE are going to make breast feeding work, NO MATTER WHAT!"

After all...one thing I did learn when Matthew died was that I'd be a great milk-maker. And I am.

It takes two to tango, though, and as much as I like to 'control' situations, let me say now...newborns will NOT let you control them!!!!!

Like I said, I've been humbled. I don't feel like a failure, I just feel a bit guilty for not 'loving' every single thing about parenthood. Motherhood, more specifically. Don't get me wrong...I am so grateful I have the opportunity to realize that breast feeding is probably one of the most difficult things I've tried to 'master', but...it's still hard and I'm frustrated with the decisions before me.

Give it some more time--let him have a bit to get his groove going?

Nurse and express to bottles for 'the best of both'?

Go to exclusive pumping?

I'm not ready to make any decision, so for now...I'm sort of in the middle and just hoping the right decision for us makes itself more clear.

I think we are over 7 pounds...maybe even close to 7 and a half. Again, we'll know on Friday. I also think his eyes are definitely going to be daddy's color, though there are lots of times he'll make a face with his eyes and I am instantly transported to a picture of me as a baby. All in all, though, he looks SO much like daddy. For looking so much like Matthew when he was first born (and Matthew looking like me), I wonder if this would have happened with Matthew as well? Looking like me for the first few days/weeks and then daddy more and more each new day?

He's stirring...and I have forsaken a shower for this blog post! That's ok...I want him to know his mommy's thoughts...and he loves me even if I am a bit scraggly! Little Bit...mommy loves you so, so much. Here are some pictures from your sixth week!

The one time we can always count on him crying--diaper changes!

About as good as a picture by himself will get!

Ready for church on Sunday with my awesome aviator hat!

His Austin Powers face!

"A diaper change coming?????"

The Pit...

There are a million things I have planned to do this year to keep me busy while John's deployed!

Too bad that regular life already keeps me busy enough!  I need not add any more. It's already been almost two weeks and it has flown!  I'm not surprised...if nothing else, the last 3 years have taught me that time truly slips through my fingers with no regard to how I want it to move.

Time is pretty rude, actually.

One of the things I committed to was Kelly's Walking With You series, and though I did the first one, I'm about to be two weeks behind (surprise, surprise!) so I'm going to try and catch up.  Try.

Though I really didn't have time for week two's topic, I'll be honest...

I didn't want to write about it.  It's about clinging in the pit...

 "Whether or not you are new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?"

There are a lot of days I still feel like I am in the pit.  My stomach gets that same knot in my gut and I get the teary lump in my throat. Just tonight, after Luke went to bed, I stood in my stairwell for nearly 20 minutes just soaking in every detail of Matthew's pictures.  His long, long body.  How much he and Luke looked alike.  How heartbreaking it is to me that my sweet boy didn't have any of his clothes to wear at Georgetown...

I'm.right.back.there.

My sister has been really sick, and John has been gone and I've been busy with a lot of things and the mail keeps bringing me reminders of the third little boy I should be mothering and honestly, I just.don't want.to.go.back.there. any more than I already do on a day-to-day basis.


Clinging to hope was not even on my radar at first.

I was just clinging to life.  Begging God for air to breathe.  Begging Him to take me instead.  Begging Him to show Himself.

Begging Him to stop John from crying.

Just clinging to breathe.

I was overwhelmed with support.  From the second my doctor said that Matthew forced her hand and we'd need emergency surgery, seriously, I felt like the whole world instantly became my team.  Every nurse and doctor at that hospital made my son and me a priority—of that, I have no doubt.

Do you know that I posted on Facebook that he died?

That's how the world found out my son died.

Facebook.

Who the heck does that?

A woman who doesn't believe it, that's who.

I was in shock.  Healthy, perfect babies DON'T JUST DIE AFTER THEY ARE BORN.

They don't.

But mine did, and while I couldn't believe it, people rallied around me and John in ways for which I will forever be grateful.

The first days after losing Matthew are oddly a blur and forever vividly imprinted in my mind and on my heart at the same time.   The thing I remember most is holding Matthew's blanket on my shoulder for days.

I sat in my leather chair, in the corner, and held that baby in my arms, if only in my imagination with that blanket.

I patted it.  I rocked it.  I stared into oblivion wishing I was not there, but with him, as it should have been.

I know people thought I was losing it.

I was.

Just typing it brings more tears than I really feel like crying right now.

Exactly as I thought it would—which is why I didn't want to write about this.


I don't have any wise words of advice.  Grief, whether fresh or over three years later, is ugly.

When new, it pierces one's soul in a way that feels unrecoverable.

After some time has passed, grief is still soul-piercing, but in an exhausting way...a way that says even though you've tasted restoration and joy again, there are still moments you feel like you are right back in the pit.

But I can say that God does not ever waste pain.

Ever.

Amazing things have been done in Matthew's honor and though I think I have always been a compassionate person and infertility would have made me a devoted mother anyway...losing babies has taught me what is really important in raising Luke.

My house being clean and his clothes being spotless or him reading at 2 or being the most brilliant, funny little boy on the planet...doesn't matter.

There's so much that doesn't matter.

Loving him.  Him knowing he is loved.  Raising him to know how grateful we are for his life and how grateful we are to God for never leaving us...showing him that life is not perfect and still is beautiful...

Those are the things that matter.

Those are the things I cling to whenever I find myself in the pit again.

And when I cling to them...gratefully, I don't stay in the pit very long.

I TOLD you I'll Be Loving You Forever...

Okay, okay...I will no longer call them OPOTB. (Though, some of the songs still validate that moniker!) I will just call them THE BEST CONCERT OF MY LIFE!!!

Yep--with much trepidation, I admit, Nanci and I drove over to the Verizon Center last night and had the time of our lives!! NOT only were the seats freaking FABULOUS, they got BETTER!!! Yep...our seats were 3rd (YES, THIRD) row...just a little left. They were incredible. We were just shocked (though that's what lots of money buys, I guess) at how flippin' close we were. Then we realized that the row we were in was not very full at all. I guess most know that you don't have to get there right on time because who you really want to see doesn't even come on until about an hour after the show starts. So...we figure we'll move down a few seats to be practically at the best place (minus the stage) in the whole arena. We were there for a bit and really couldn't believe how our great seats got even better. And THEN, they got better than that!! Apparently, the people who had tickets for the seats we moved to came, and that was no problem, we just slid on down back to our seats. The thing is, though, they wanted to have their group of four sit together and they only had two seats in our row--their other two seats were TWO ROWS UP!!! TWO ROWS UP!! FRONT ROW! So, they asked if we would mind trading. WHAT? Unfortunately, the two they needed for their group were two on the other side of us, but I told them that if I was them, I'd sit there and we would all move to our regular seats if the official ticket holders came back. They agreed, and sat down, while Nanci and I hopped right on up -- to literally where we could get no closer!! It was AMAZING! We made friends with the girls behind us (who, we learned, paid about the same we did and got to MEET the 'Kids'--but said it was sort of awkward, so Nanci and I are glad the myth hasn't been debunked!) while the two new girls on the other side of us basically told us that we should switch seats with them (as ours were better) because they paid good money to be where we were (which they didn't, or they WOULD have been where we were) and we didn't. Ummm...no. I heard this conversation going on with them and Nanci, and purposely stayed out of it because Nanci was handling it just fine and I would have been snappy. Better to not start an argument and mess up a good thing. In the end, they ended up moving to where they wanted anyway, and we still had great placements, so, whatever.

So...let me tell you, the concert was amazing. They TOTALLY played the good stuff...and the new stuff they played? Well, they played the more benign stuff and some of it you couldn't even make the words out the words to very well, so...we enjoyed the great beat, the dancing, and the fact that we could SMELL THEIR COLOGNE, we were that close!!!! Now...here's the best part. And, if you are a Facebook friend, you already know this. Joey loves me. He does. Ask Nanci, ask the girls behind me...ask that whole front section. NOT ONLY did he and I share eye contact and face time on at least SIX different and countable occasions, he blew a kiss AT ME. TOTALLY AT ME. And I am not making this up--ask Nanci! I wouldn't have believed it myself, if I wasn't there, but he DID! AND...as I nearly had a conniption fit that he did, he and Donnie (who totally dug Nanci and her button--winks were witnessed!) laughed about my reaction. FOR REAL, friends...FOR REAL. Does it get any better???

Seriously, I had such a great time last night and the concert was fabulous and I am so happy that my high school crushes still remain (keeps me young) and LOVE ME BACK! Ha ha...they put on a great show and the outrageous amount of money it took to get there was worth EVERY PENNY. According to the girls beside us, it was worth more, apparently!!

I was a little peeved because they distinctly said no cameras, recording devices, etc...and the place was FULL of them, so Nanci and I were stuck with our camera phones, but at least we have some proof.

Here's Nanci and me just giddy beyond belief!


Here's Joey Joe on his knees crooning!



Here's Nanic's man...Donnie--her first DW!



You tube is alive with some video already, so I will have to download those as well and create my NKOTB folder.

John? Yeah, well, not to worry. As Joey is happily married with a new baby and I am happily married (with a new baby hopefully very soon) I guess we will just remain the star-crossed lovers we have been for the last 20 years. Another time, another place? Who knows? In any event, the chaste kiss blown to me was enough to make my heart pitter patter with thanks to them--if for no other reason but the glorious walk down memory lane.

Now...back to real life!

Eight Weeks or Two Months?

Much like the wonky week-counting and month-dating that goes with pregnancy, such is the case with when the baby is born also. Today, he is EIGHT WEEKS OLD! Theoretically, that'd be 2 months...but that won't be until Friday on the 4th. Either way, so much is changing.

So much hasn't changed either.

Matthew is still gone.

My heart still hurts so much.

I still get that 'cry' gulp in my throat and tears in my eyes when I just type about him or talk briefly in conversation about him.

I'm still his mother and as unusual as our relationship has been in 15 months (yesterday....) it's still a relationship that requires work and effort on my part, just like the case with any living child.

It's just that for all the work and effort I put in...there is no sweet little smile or baby coo as appreciation. My work is still grief work and there really doesn't seem like there is any reward to it...just work I must do in order to maintain sanity and functionality and health for Luke. It's hard and so hard for many to understand.

Life should be great, right? Luke is here...he's happy and healthy. John and I are happy and healthy.

And yet....not too far from here is a grave that reminds me that we are as happy as we can be without our Matthew.

Stephanie wrote a great post last week about how mingled with emotions having a baby is when the baby before died. She was looking for a word that wrapped up all the emotions. I couldn't have said it better. If that word exists, I'd sure like to know what it is too. All I've been able to come up with is complicated. Times a million.

My counselors are glad that I am trying to continue to blog because they are big believers in the therapy it has brought and continues to bring. I agree, but I have to say that though I wish I had more time to write more about Luke's days, I am sort of glad that I've only been able to muster once a week because it is still hard to write about all the joy of Luke while my "Missing Matthew" feelings are constantly bubbling, bubbling, bubbling at the tip of every emotion I seem to feel. Hormonally, things are certainly more stable than they were for the first few weeks of Luke's life...so that helps. The fact that every day, he looks more and more like LUKE and less and less like pictures of Matthew also makes things more bearable as well. Still, though...he'll be sleeping and I just break down and cry...looking at the picture of Matthew that's right behind his bassinet and just willing with all my might for Matthew's eyes to be open while at the same time, praying with all I have that I don't live to see Luke's closed like that forever.

Every day, though, I am consumed with Luke. I don't even have the time or energy to really cry for Matthew like I wish I could...yesterday I told Luke his brother would have been 15 months old. I could barely get the words out. Fifteen Months...

LUKE....LUKE is just such a blessing to our wounded hearts. He is still such a good, mellow and low-maintenance baby. We are really battling some things, though, poor little guy. Though his appointment for shots and well-baby isn't until Monday, I am counting the seconds because both John and I are pretty sure he has reflux. He is really giving lots of resistance to feeding now (never did before, and we are hardly using bottles anymore, so don't think it's the preference for a bottle over breast) and he is spitting up buckets during feeds. And other times too. A few times, I've seen milk coming out of his nose. I thought it was maybe me having a fast let-down, and that may not help matters, but there are more symptoms...the other night I almost took him to the ER because he just kept choking and gagging in the middle of the night. Partly like he just couldn't clear his throat, partly like he was gasping for breath. I literally slept for about an hour total over the course of 12. The angel care monitor makes me feel a bit better, but we are going to have to do something if this is reflux because the feeding is a big issue. We've inclined his bassinet, I am trying to give breaks during feedings, feeding more often and in less amounts, ordered The Brest Friend reflux wedges for feeding, give him the Gripe Water at the first hint of hiccups (it's obvious they hurt him and now when he spits up, he seems like he's in pain too)...you name it, we're trying it before we get to medicine. If medicine will help, though, I'm all for it because he is such a happy, sweet baby...I hate that something like this takes that away. As I said, we'll see on Monday.

I was SO sad yesterday as I was putting laundry away. He's already outgrown so many things. It's just sad, sad, sad for me...I'm glad he is growing, but I also know that this is it. John feels like we'll be one of those couples who took a million years to get pregnant, went through all sorts of stuff, and then are able to pop them out after that first one 'jump-started' my body.

Yeah. The stuff infertile women dream of. But doubtful...I wasn't getting pregnant when my eggs were young and pretty and now that they are less than a week away from 38 years, well...I feel like they are those old ladies in the front yard waving their canes at the prospect of any young studs coming over and screaming, "Get out of here!"

I know it sounds sort of greedy to be mourning the fact that I will probably never be pregnant again, especially as the mother of two precious boys--one of whom greets me every morning with the most precious baby smile in the world.

But motherhood is wonderful when the baby lives and I'd love more.

Auntie Jenny from Pensacola came to visit this week. Luke just snuggled right up to her! I know I talked her ear off, but as I told her...the world of people I can just talk to and cry to without sounding greedy and ungrateful seems to be getting smaller and smaller as more people feel I should be moving on and focusing solely on Luke because he is here and not on Matthew because he is not. Jenny...it was such a blessing for you to be here!

Luke is really so much more interactive! He loves his toys on his bouncy, still adores his bath, tolerates tummy time and giggles at us when we whistle at him. Maybe when I have time I'll put a video of him giggling on here...

Happy Eight Weeks, sweet boy! You are Mama's precious, precious sweetheart and I love you so much!!

All smiles!

Getting so big!

Thinking things over here....

"Hey, look Auntie Jenny...my trick!"

Soooooo comfy.....

Daddy caught Mommy in a rare moment of sleep!

Catching up with Froggy, but still not loving the picture taking. I LOVE this little sweater outfit!! Thanks Kimmy!

In Luke's room, with the awesome picture Stephanie did for him!

Christmas Eve....

I am a mother.

I cannot think of a better gift I could have been given than to be a mother.

More than that, I am the mother of the most beautiful, precious and loved little boy. I have always dreamed of being a mother, and though my precious angel is not with me this Christmas, through him, I was given an incredible honor and gift...the gift of motherhood.

I now belong to a club that I desperately wanted to be in. I have the battle scars to prove it! I have spent the months of pregnancy that one spends--dreaming, planning and loving...heartburn, backaches and no sleep. I wouldn't trade a single second of it, knowing that it was all part of the process that was my miracle.

I also belong to a club that I never, ever wanted to be part of, and whose very existence makes my stomach turn--that of mothers who have lost their children. It is a club that also leaves battle scars...and changes who I am forever. It changes my outlook; it changes my heart. I will find joy again, and do every day--it's just a different joy. I will certainly love Matthew's brother or sister, but will always watch them with wonder and think about how Matthew would have been in their same situations. I will never be able to take the leaps of pure faith that I once was able to do without an apprehension that only belongs to those who have had tragedy that rocked their world.

Tonight, though...tonight, as the world waits for Santa and decides that since it's Christmas, they should go to church, I am thankful. It's hard to be thankful when my heart is broken, but if I am supposed to be learning and growing in this, then I have to remember that I *DO* have many things for which I am thankful. I looked at the post I made just two days before Matthew was born, and just three days before he passed away. It's worth reposting...for these things I am still very thankful and count as priceless gifts:

Dear Lord, I am most thankful for:
Your grace, mercy, faithfulness and salvation

**Without this...there is no hope. Hope is what I live for today and tomorrow. This hope is what I cling to in knowing I will hold my son again. I do not always understand, but am able to accept that the things going on in my life may be a test and I promised to give God glory in all things.**

My husband--he's brilliant, hard-working, an incredible father and provider

**Not only is he an amazing husband, I have had the privilege and honor of seeing him also be an incredible and devoted father.**

My precious, miraculous and stubborn little boy....I cannot wait to meet you
**Though our time after you were born was merely minutes...if that...I am so glad I got to meet you, caress your cheek and shoulder, and that you and your daddy got to hold hands.**

My family--regardless of current relationship status, I know I am loved
**I have so many family members that I could not imagine this time of our lives without. I am truly blessed.**

My friends--I am overwhelmed with people who care for me, worry about me and shower me with their attention and well-wishes

**This has never been more shown to me--I have never seen God more in action--than I have in the last month.**

My sweet Dixie Belle--though she is a PISTOL, she is a pistol full of snuggles and devotion

**I get such joy out of watching her in the snow...and we've had tons of it!**

My country--how I was blessed to be born here, I'll never know, but am eternally grateful for the blessing of America and her freedoms
**Again, we are so blessed to be Americans.**

My "children"--every little boy and girl for whom I have had the privilege of being a part of his or her life has touched mine so deeply...

**Bless their hearts...the little ones who have wrapped their arms around us have been so special to me.**

People who are willing to sacrifice--whether it is for their faith, their convictions or their fellow human...realizing there is something more is so admirable

*I cannot express how much I admire the bravery and the courage these people show.*

Loved ones that I have lost...though I miss them terribly, I'm thankful for their part in my life

**This is now even more true. As much as missing Matthew hurts my heart, his part in my life--his role as my first-born son--is something I am so grateful for...he gave me the gift of motherhood and nothing can ever change that.**

Lord, thank you for the many, many gifts I've had in my life.

Remembering...

Last Saturday, I had the honor and privilege of meeting (in person) two friends I have come to know since we started our adoption in Kyrgyzstan. Ann is one of the dear 65 families who have met their little ones, wait for them with every second of their days and love them more than life itself from 7000 miles away. Trite as it may sound, I have often thanked God for only letting our hearts get as invested as they did in Kyrgyz before the country closed because I'm so saddened for those families who have waited 2+ years for their children. Not pictures on a referral email--their CHILDREN. Children who have families and homes waiting to shower them with love and forever. It's just so sad.


Jengish is an amazing young man who has dedicated his life to service of others. He works with people that many of us in our pampered lives would consider unworthy and untouchable. He looks for them, purposely putting himself in not so great positions just to help them and lead them to lives so much more fulfilling. He is such a great example of loving them like Jesus loved them and I have loved being able to call him a friend.

So, meeting up with both in Richmond last Saturday was a great day. Admittedly, I was having a rough week. Umm, lets make that two weeks. Heck, let's make it 16. My point is that Richmond was a two hour drive and drive time is think time and think time is not great time.


But it was worth it. So worth it! I was sort of embarrassed--born and raised in Virginia and I felt like such a loser because I couldn't remember much of Virginia history AT . ALL. (I had my trusty phone with me, though, so I was able to supply answers eventually.)

We had lots of fun photo ops (Ann and Jengish are real photographers...I just depend on my trusty green "A") and just a fabulous time getting to know each other (more)!


Ann told me that after Matthew died, a group of the waiting families wanted to get a tree or something like that for us to remember Matthew. I cannot tell you how touched I was by this. Actually, if truth be told, I was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the kindness and compassion of relative *strangers* who wanted to do something special for me and John and our sweet baby boy.


Believe it or not, we came across a nursery right near the place Jengish was staying and after we dropped him off, we stopped there. I had no clue of what to look for--significantly overwhelmed. Ann and I started looking and just had no idea so we decided to ask one of the ladies there. I asked her for something that might flower in the fall, or at least be pretty to look at, and she showed us a couple of things. For each thing I asked how it looked during the winter (winter has officially become my most hated season EVER) because I didn't want anything that looked dead/dying. I have enough memory of that as it is. She then took us over to some beautiful camellias and said that they were evergreen even when not blooming. Then she said, "And they have beautiful flowers that start blooming in December."


Well, that was it. Ann and I looked each other, I started to cry and we both got goosebumps. Blooming in December. Just like my little Matthew would have.


I'm crying as I type this. John and I have been planning a memorial garden in a particular part of our yard so that we could have things to remember my mom and his dad and our grandparents. I never, ever, EVER dreamed I would be planting something to memorialize MY SON. My newborn son.


My heart is heavy.

But it is also encouraged. Encouraged by the support that we have in so many different people and venues. Encouraged by the blooms that I'll see every winter and remember how loved we are and how loved Matthew is. Encouraged that it can't always be this bad...and when it's not, I'll be able to look out the window and see those flowers and smile...at the memory of special people and the memory of my beautiful baby boy.


Thank you Waiting Families...our hearts have been so blessed.