Food Allergy Momma

Sometimes I feel like I should be sitting in one of those circles where I stand up and give my name and name the addiction that has me. TV and movies glamorize and bring humor to subjects that are still somewhat taboo to admit or acknowledge, such as alcohol or overeating. And honestly, my list / addiction / problem would be long. 

"Hello, my name is Angie and I am an over-thinker, anxiety-ridden, easily stressed, workaholic, multifunctional, grief trauma-filled, food allergy momma."

I can admit it, now I just need to work on it. I need to bring the positives out of the negatives and find beauty in the ugliness that is in my foresight. The ugliness that I plan for without even giving beauty a chance to be imagined in my mind.

I receive a birthday party invitation and my mind immediately flashes to images of my son hooked up to EKG's, or his little body full of hives as he looks at me with his pleading eyes for help. 

I see holidays come up on the schedule and I spend nights searching Pinterest for recipes of things I can make that everyone would enjoy that are also easy to manipulate to make safe. 

I open a backpack to find a letter from school about a food activity and wonder how he and I can both play hooky that day.

I get on social media and see families on these beautiful vacations and remember I love to travel. I think about how we should take our children places. But then my mind starts picturing the extra luggage to pack food and calls ahead to restaurants and hotels to make sure we can have a microwave in our room. I have to make sure there is a refrigerator that is not the itty-bitty mini ones that are usually present.

People can try to encourage me and look out for us...but as a mother, it is something I have to do myself. I had a time when something I should have done as a mother was not done by me and I am still haunted by that. I talk about it in therapy. I have not healed from it. I may never heal from it, mostly because the situation of loosing a child is something I never wanted to experience and a pain that ironically, I never want to forget.  

So walk with me, see that I cannot have a normal day or go on a normal outing / vacation. But it isn't just me that is effected, and it isn't just Jonah either. Our whole family lives this journey. And it is, a journey. It is a long road with lots of twists and turns. Lots of ups and downs. But also a journey full of love and care. A journey full of strength and wisdom. We learn a lot, we read labels, we wipe tables and chais, we wash hands more than normal, we carry emergency medications, we leave instructions, we prep and cook more, and most importantly we pray. And we have a whole lot of fun, even with our limitations!

Meal Planning with Food Allergies (FA's)

     I have more of a Type A personality. I need things to be planned and in order. This means that I plan out our dinner menu for the week and base our grocery shopping off of it. It is not always perfect, and it does not always work out, but it helps us be more prepared and stills my anxiety levels.

    And, because now between our 3 kids, we have activities EVERY night, Monday through Friday, we eat around 4-4:30pm. So, I have planned out meals for the next month, which simplifies my weekly grocery list and wraps my head around what is going on, with constant reminders of where to be and when so that we are hopefully on time at the correct location!

    So, let me introduce you to our menu this week, and note that everything is dairy free (DF) or will have a DF version to coordinate for Jonah's food allergies. He is also allergic to cashews, so we avoid those type of tree nuts from entering our house completely. Dairy is more difficult with 2 other children and I love having a glass of milk with my dinner. Also, I do not like the taste of vegan cheese, so I will use dairy cheese for the rest of the family. 

Saturday: Spaghetti - we use Kroger spaghetti and Barilla sauce. I mix the sauce with browned ground beef and we add a few spices/seasonings. We have Texas Toast, so for Jonah we toast plain bread, add vegan butter and sprinkle with garlic powder or salt. And, we have found a DF grated Parmesan "cheese" that we sprinkle on his. 

Sunday: Tortilla Chip & Pepper Jack Crusted Chicken - I will separate and cook in separate dishes, 1 DF and 1 regular. I will use Daiya cheese for the DF dish. I will also make my own DF buttermilk. And, I have a 'recipe' for ranch packets so that it will be completely safe.

The yellow plate is the DF, the blue is Dairy.

Monday: French Toast Casserole - This one is just making sure to find a bread loaf that is DF and not produced on the same line as milk or tree nuts

Tuesday: Copy Cat Recipe of P.F. Changs Lettuce Wraps

Wednesday: Disappearing Chicken Casserole - Same thing as Sunday, separate the DF cheese dish from the dairy cheese dish

Small white dish is DF, other dish is dairy, but I did use DF sour cream, cream cheese, and mayo

Thursday: Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Breakfast Rollups - Jonah's will have Daiya DF cheddar slices and I will cook them on a separate baking tray.

Friday: Red 7 Pizza - They can make a vegan cheese, non-cross contamination pizza for Jonah!

I will try to remember to add pictures after I make the dishes this week. 

Anxiety

If you search the definition of anxiety on the web, you will see Merriam Webster defines it as:

apprehensive uneasiness or nervousness usually over an impending or anticipated ill : a state of being anxious 

with a medical diagnosis of:

overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear often marked by physical signs (such as tension, sweating, and increased pulse rate), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat, and by self-doubt about one's capacity to cope with it

Anxiety is something I have fought with most of my life. Often, I have ignored it, or been able to "move past" it. I remember during my first year of college experiencing a lot of anxiety. I was not use to studying. I was definitely not use to living outside of my parents house. I wanted to make friends and do all the things everyone else I was meeting was doing. What I struggled with was studying back in my dorm instead of watching TV when others were studying. So when others did well on tests and in classes, I struggled with learning to study and be prepared for exams. My mom took me to counselors and hypnotists. When my aunt was suddenly killed in a car accident during the Spring of my Freshman year, my counseling increased and I did not like the medication I was prescribed. Immaturity I now know played a huge role at that time in my life, but the anxiety that I did not properly grasp was also present.

I am still learning to address my anxiety properly and struggling with prayer with it all. From loosing Riley, loosing Gabriel, taking a risk and opening a dental practice with my husband, loosing our dads, and raising kids (especially with their own unique needs and medical concerns), I have realized that I may have usually dealt with the anxiety by putting other things on my plate so I did not have time to think. Maybe I do better with my anxiety when my plate is too full, however, there are times that I just want to sit and cry. I want to pull the blankets over head and stay in bed. I want to take enough medication to make the tightness in my chest stop and feel more "lighthearted". 

I have talked to counselors. I have talked to my primary care doctor. I take anxiety medications. But I am lacking in prayer, or at least the prayer time I use to devote. I have tried to read again, and included books to better serve my purpose God has intended on earth (along with my pleasure reads). 

But this week, after a few stressful, what are normal life is going wrong (water heater went out, minor issues on vacation, water pump in van went out, etc.), I woke up at 4:30am from a terrible nightmare and my left arm was throbbing and I felt a burning in my chest. I had a very vivid dreams that night with some of the things that stress me out or make me anxious, but that particular dream that I awoke from was Jonah having an allergic reaction to a food he was eating at school. If you have never witnessed your child (or anyone you love so deeply) start loosing signs of life, be grateful. I don't wish those visions or realities on anyone. So, I put it off as anxiety and tried to go back to sleep. However, as the day went on, my left arm was still hurting off and on and my chest was tight. I put off having an EKG until Andrew got home to be with the kids that night. The thought of having to ask for help or figure out where they kids were or who could get them was more than I wanted to deal with during the day. I know I should not have worried about that, but I did. Luckily, my EKG was good. The urgent care doctor said that I may have pulled a muscle in my neck or chest and that is what caused the arm pain. And I also need to get more control of this anxiety.

But how do I do that? I can change a lot of things in our life to make it less stressful, but life is stressful. I cannot change Jonah's food allergies and that is something that weighs heavy on me everyday. The odd thing is, it isn't that we have to pay more for food, or figure things out different to cook. It isn't even where he is going to school or who is with him because God gives me peace for that than I could have imagined (even though my dream was different), but it is because I have felt for years that there is something God wants me to do besides what I am already doing. I use to think it was for Riley, and that is why I started this blog and talk to other moms who unfortunately joined our "club". But I really feel strongly now that it has something to do with Jonah and his allergies. I could be wrong, but I am going to start stepping out in faith more than I have been. I am going to do my part to try harder to bring Jesus into our home more than we have lately. And I am going to pray more for the answer and guidance of what God wants me to do, what my purpose is. And while I do, I will be blogging more on Jonah and our menus and what we do in our home to help keep him safe and still eat as a family without making different menus each night.

Please pray for us, and for me, as we learn to listen to the Holy Spirit more. I recently listened to our Pastor's sermon from last week since we missed church. He spoke of paranoia. And that hit me like a brick. My anxiety has given me such paranoia the past year. It is there when I talk myself out of sharing what we do for our family dinners. I do not enjoy cooking, but somehow I find some peace in it when I make a dairy free dinner for Jonah that he enjoys. That feeling makes me want to do more. So if you, or someone you know also suffers food allergies that are severe enough they could die, please know you are not alone! And if you suffer from anxiety, please don't suffer alone. Talk to someone and seek professional help. 

Jonah

All of our children have aspects that remind me of Riley. Unfortunately, Gabriel was too young in utero to be able to have many comparisons toward. 

This week, Jonah graduates Pre-K. Jonah has a lot more about him that makes me think of Riley than I realize. Had Riley survived birth, he would have had heart surgery. And, had he survived that heart surgery, more than likely he would have had more life or death situations including more surgeries in his lifetime. But, God's plan for him with me on earth was the 37 weeks in my utero that I would never give back. I often wonder what my life, our life would be like if Riley were alive as it would be full of doctor appointments and constant worry if he would survive. 

Jonah has had his own health challenges, and some life or death, that have filled our lives with constant doctor and specialists appointments, surgeries, and worries over where he is, who he is with, and what is around him (food and environment). 

To begin, during my pregnancy with Jonah I had a subchorionic hematoma. I was on pins and needles during his pregnancy more than I care to admit. 

Fortunately around 37 weeks, he quickly entered the world, at which point he surprised us with an extra left thumb! He has since gone through 2 surgeries (so far) to function like a normal child. I am happy to discuss this surgeries with anyone in more detail, or on here at a later time.

Then, around 9 months old he started showing signs of food allergies (FAs) It was determined at that time that he was allergic to milk and egg. Today, he can have eggs but no longer anything with cashews. This has been the most difficult, informative, scary, heartbreaking, lonely, proud, educational, life-changing journey. I feel God calling me to do more with this part of Jonah's life, so stay tuned and join me in prayer that I follow God's will and not my own here. This journey has also involved lots of anaphylactic reactions, ER trips, (including 1 by ambulance).

Later, he would loose his baby fat and an inguinal hernia was discovered that had probably been there since birth. His surgery to repair his hernia was just 8 months after his first hand surgery and 4 months before his next hand surgery.

Next, he would carry around big books and take a fall into the island in our kitchen and split his head open just below his eyebrow. The year this happened, I think we were in the emergency room 5 times. 

Finally, his outdoor and environmental allergies are constantly changing. We had a night when he was a few years old that I had to drive him to the ER because he was struggling to breath. He had a rescue inhaler that he used 1-2 times a day for almost 2 years. During part of this journey we had to eliminate outdoor play during peak pollen times and could not allow those who were around dogs to be around him without fresh clothes. Then, about 18 months ago he did so much better he could be outside and be around dogs. But, after fostering a puppy for a week, we learned he is reacting to dogs again, and had to return the puppy without adopting her. This was a difficult decision for our family that affected everyone. 

But no matter what life has thrown at him and no matter how many times he has been stitched, poked, examined, driven around to sit in waiting rooms, he is a happy kid. He gives the best hugs and likes to climb me as if he were suppose to be a monkey. I have nicknamed him Monkey, so you may hear my call him that at the ballfield! He is a joy, and although he is the middle child living in our house, he does not get typical middle child treatment. He is learning to navigate his FAs and environmental allergies. 

So this week, if you see me "boo-hooing" it is because this precious child of ours is graduating Pre-K. This is an accomplishment with his FA journey alone! I am so grateful to both programs and their teams who have navigated this FA journey with us and those who have gone out of their way to include him!

Pray for us come August as we start a new school with new teachers, staff, and friends who will get this Momma-bear's cautionary concerns heavy at the beginning with constant checking in until I get back to the comfort both The Academy at Wellspring and Station Hill Mother's Day Out have given me!

Jonah, we are so proud of the boy your are and the young man instincts that are shining through. You will do great things in this world! God has BIG plans for you and I am glad I get to be your mommy and to see you living them and growing into them!

Perfectly Imperfect

 

     I overwork myself. I miss opportunities with my kids, but I am trying to do better. I let my desire for things to have order and a place run my day. Yet, even the order I have things in is not the final desired order for it that I have. I have made mistakes and I have regrets. The last couple of weeks have been particularly emotionally heavy. Ok, honestly, the last couple of years. Ok, ok, and even before that. When things have happened I have not given myself the time (or resources) I should have to face life's realities head on. Did I face them, yes, but with my face turned as I continued to walk forward with the motions of moving on. I am perfectly imperfect because I am His. Before I was created in my mother's womb, God knew me. He knew my struggles. He knows now my desire to fill my plate, even when he longs for me to dump it so that I am fully in his presence. When I was pregnant with Riley and the few weeks after loosing him, I was in the best place spiritually that I have ever been in my life. Now, as I watch those I love suffer and pass away, I am reminded to slow down and focus on what is important. I yearn for the spiritual healing and feeling I had during that pregnancy and few days that followed.

     I don't blog as often as I probably should. I find myself thinking about writing and blogging as I am driving kids to and from school and other necessary places. I find myself starting to dream about what to write, especially as I sit in church staring to feel fed and then pray for God to guide me for what I should write. I pray that he gives me the words someone needs to hear, while at the same time having an outlet to express any emotions I am experiencing at that time. 

     Today, I took some time to look through old photos and yearbooks, remembering those who are heaviest on my heart. Today, I took time to sit and work on grant writing for my cousin that I have committed to, but I keep procrastinating. Today, I am taking time to write on my blog that I put in place originally to honor and remember our first son, Riley. 

Today, I feel called to share 3 things:

1. Don't desire to be anyone else. Be YOU! If you don't like the current version of you, get your bible, get a devotional, join a bible study, go to church, and breathe in the words. Pray God gives you the peace that transcends all understanding. I can say that I felt that so strongly the minutes after the doctor announced that Riley did not have a heartbeat. I cannot explain it, but it was a peaceful high that I long to feel again. And I know, I want a better version of me. In that version, I will do better to listen to Him and feel that peace again as I slow down and obey His word. (Read Philippians 4:7). I am a constant work in progress.

2. As I went through my organized boxes of scrapbook memorabilia (see, in it's place - organized boxes, when I haven't actually put it in it's place - a scrapbook), I found a small scrap of paper with my Papa's handwriting. It read "Deuteronomy 29:29" I looked it up and read '"The LORD our God has secrets known to no one. We are not accountable for them, but we and our children are accountable forever for all that he has revealed to us, so that we may obey all the terms of these instructions."' I read that after he passed and it was just words to me. Today I read it and I FELT it! My Papa may have had some financial secrets, but God was not a secret to him. He shared when he could and he studied to learn more. He was active in his bible study and constantly joined in the discussions and tried to study more. He followed that passage and showed me what it was like to be a Christian and a Christian role model in our home. So really, from this second share of today, I want those of you reading this to focus on these 2 things: 

        1) Do you know Him? If not, what can you do to get to know Him and feel His peace in a complicated world? Please seek to know Him. If you are reading this, know that you are loved and I desire for you to find Him and live in Heaven with me someday.

        2) Are your affairs in order for your passing so that your family knows your wishes and can spend time mourning and celebrating you rather than frustrated and lost in papers and legal concerns? If not, please check out Addio, https://www.ouraddio.com/

3. I am not perfect! I am no where near perfect. God is perfect. If you see me do something or I say something that offends you or makes you think less of me, please do not think less of Him! I am learning everyday. I need to be fed everyday by His word. I need to be forgiven everyday, and only He can provide those needs to me. What I have is not mine, not even our children are ours, but they are His. We are blessed to be their parents, and we fail at that some days. But I will continue to teach about Jesus in our home and pray over my children and their future spouses so that they will continue on spreading His word and hopefully in better ways than I ever could or will. Do I claim to be a Christian. Yes, but it is no claim, it is the truth. Do I falter? Do I struggle? Absolutely! But I am not afraid to admit that I am perfectly imperfect and I desire to do better, to know better, to know Him better, and to spread His love. He loves me. He desires for me to do better. He has provided me the words to follow to show how I am loved, how you are loved, and how we should love each other, imperfections and all!  

I voice memo'd the short poem below one day at a red light when I felt these words come to me. 

Open the doors and you will see a family that does not live perfectly.

The house is a mess, toys on the floor, screaming and yelling…we did our best. 

Vitamins by the coffee so we don’t forget, minds that are stuck with pandemic regret. 

Bills need paid and family needs fed as we count the hours 'till we go back to bed.

 

The ways in this world are quite different today, through our adult eyes we long for childhood play.

Generations pass on as we move toward our turn, yet even some younger no longer have candles that burn.

 

Our one saving grace from the heavens above is to know God has a plan for us with his great love.

We’ve had days of miracles and days of despair. We’ve had days of laughter and others filled with gray hair.

We long for the days when God calls us home, but until that day come know you are not alone. 

Open the doors and you will see a family that does not live perfectly.

First (and last) Full Marathon

    Running a full marathon has been something I have wanted to try for awhile. I have run the Indianapolis Mini Marathon a couple times and run several 5K's. I decided I wanted to run one before I turned 40. That same day I saw someone post on social media about sale prices for the St. Jude's Rock and Roll Marathon in Nashville. I signed up, ordered a training book, and planned my 20 week training plan. 

    Training was tough the first couple of days as I had been working out, but not running regularly. After the first couple weeks my left knee that I had ACL surgery on over 10 years ago started hurting. I began physical therapy. But by week eight my knee did not hurt anymore. I was so excited at how well I was improving and happy that I was enjoying running. Then I realized I messed up my 20-week plan and I was 4 weeks ahead of schedule. In hindsight, I should have just kept pushing forward on the plan, but I decided to slow down and start the plan over. 

    For the first time that I can ever remember, I packed workout clothes on vacation, and I actually used them and stuck to my training plan. I was excited with how healthy I was feeling and seeing changes in my body for the better. Running was giving me a high, especially when I would go early in the morning while most of the world, including my children, were sleeping. I changed my music choices several times, but usually ended up with a Christian workout station on Pandora. This allowed me to also quiet some of my thoughts and listen to the meaning of the words and worship while running.

    By week 14 I hit a wall. I was fighting some depression, anxiety, and stress that I had not really allowed myself to deal with or talk to anyone about. I skipped a run. I paused my gym membership so I could focus on my running as the mileages were adding up and I struggled with both along with my daily responsibilities. But my mind was stronger than my body and I would talk myself out of another run or three. Sometime in the following weeks I ended up with bulging discs in my neck. When I would try to run, I was in terrible pain and would have to walk more of my routes. I started going back for physical therapy. 

    Physical therapy was helping, I was starting to train again. But then our kids started taking turns getting sick and I would have to cancel my sessions. Two weeks before the marathon I debated on canceling or running the half and trying the full another time. It was cold outside, I was tired, I knew I had not been training like I should have. But I decided to push forward and rather than hoping for a finish time of my early weeks in training, I just wanted to be done in the 6 hour time limit. 

    Day of the race came. I could not believe it. I was happy it was finally here. I was sad I had not trained like I had begun and had planned to do up to this day. But I remembered how excited the crowd and entertainment made me on my mini marathons, so I hoped for the same. I had designed a playlist of music to help me if needed. And it was cold! Cold weather makes me have to urinate more. I lined up in my assigned corral about 7:00am. The first corral was released at 7:20am. My spot in my corral finally went through about 7:37am. 

 This is just some dialog in my mind as I completed the marathon:

     Yay! Finally, here we go! Okay, 26.2 miles and I will be done. I can do this. Oh no! It is cold, my toes are starting to feel numb. We are not even a mile down the road. I have to pee! Oh look porta potty's, wait people are cutting in line, I can't start like this, I have to just keep running, I cannot loose time in the first porta potty line! So I keep going. I see mile 3. Really! Already, that isn't so bad at all. Whew, I am hot, I need to loose this jacket, but not until I find a porta potty. I should have brought a sweatshirt I didn't mind leaving on the side of the road. Mile 5, what!? An empty porta potty! Okay, I feel better, I can keep running. What a beautiful neighborhood! Those people are passing out candy like it is Halloween, how funny. Mile 8, I see Santa Claus cheering me on, and the Easter Bunny. I also see Elvis running. I don't think I am hallucinating just yet, but maybe. Mile 11/12 we split from the half marathoners and it is all the sudden quiet and lonely. I turn a corner and get to run in the Sounds Stadium. I see myself on the big guitar screen. I try to snap a running selfie, but I discover later that it didn't turn out. I meet another runner who is also running his first marathon and also because of turning 40. Soon, we run alongside the half marathoners again. But wait! They are done, there they go, listen to those cheers. Ok, mile 15, I can do this. This isn't terrible. My mind is starting to tell me I am done, but I cannot listen. Mile 17 into a park. It is quieter, the paths are more narrow. I can do this, think "pretty park". But it isn't the leaves haven't changed much or they are already cleaned up. There are no pretty ducks in the water. Oh no! I have to pee again. I don't see any porta pottys. Wait, why does that sign say 20? I was just at 17. I can't be doing too bad, look at these people running past me in the opposite way. I just need to keep going. Hang on, "U-turn"!? So the people I just passed, thinking I was on a good pace were actually ahead of me and already did this loop! Why does that sign say 23. What is going on? Who messed up? My watch says mile 19 something. Okay, I have to walk more because when I run, I feel like I may pee my pants. Mile 20, I find a porta potty. I see a text from my husband pop up about being at mile 20 for awhile and asking if I am ok. No time to respond, just need to keep going. Finally, coming out of the park. Yay! I want to see city life again. OH NO! Does that sign have an arrow to finish straight ahead, but for the SECOND LOOP, to the right? I stop and ask. Yes, the park is two loops. Ugh, now the signs I saw make sense. Oh no. My mind is shut down. I cannot run. I want to cry. I want to be done. I will never sign up for another full. I will stick to half marathons and 5K's. Look that woman is walking. I can walk. Just for a bit. Oh wait, she was just walking the park! Now she is leaving. Oh no, I have to run! Caught back up to these two women I had passed and who had passed me at multiple points during this race. I am doing good. Yay! End of park is ahead. Mile 23. Oh wait, that is the pick-up bus to pick up runners coming into the park. I have to keep going. My feet hurt. My back hurts. My legs are starting to hurt. Small jog, I can do a small jog. I am fighting tears. I want to stop. I cannot stop. I am at Mile 24. I cannot come this far and not finish. But I cannot run anymore. I can barely jog. I come up by another runner and ask him if he has done this race before. He has. I ask him if I can walk the last 2 miles at this point or if they will pick me up. He tells me I have done great and I won't get picked up at this point if I walk. He also tells me the double park route was new and messed with his mind as well. A man cheering on comes up to me to tell me that there is one more hill around Mile 25, but after that, it is all downhill. He tells me I have this and to keep going but save my energy for the hill. I jog some more, I fight tears some more. There it is the hill at Mile 25. I power walk it up the best I can. Mile 26 sign, I start jogging. Finally, the gates into the finish line. I pick up my pace some, almost done. Wahoo! I did it! There is my husband and our kids. How wonderful! I am so glad they are here. I crossed the line in just shy of 6 hours. I am happy. I am sore! I am slightly discouraged with my time, but trying to lean on the fact that I did it and in my later goal time knowing that I had not been training toward the last 6 weeks like I should have.

*We figured out that my husband thought I was stuck at mile 20 for awhile because of the double loop in the park. I think it was hard for the tracking system to understand the pass throughs.

  

Difficult Conversations with Parents

     When we are younger, we tend to try to act older. We want to speed things up and be an adult (especially in the teen years). What we don't realize often enough is all the responsibility that comes with being an adult. If you were like me, your parents tried to shield you away from knowing the stress of all the responsibility that was on their plate. Paying the bills, working, taking care of their aging parents, and trying to find time to enjoy life with their children who were rapidly growing up.

    So here I am, almost 39 years into this world. Trying to balance the stress of life with work, bills, raising children that have had a few more medical concerns than my parents had to deal with. I have the daily heartaches of missing 2 of our children. Also in our short years on this earth, my husband and I have already buried our fathers.

   Now, to explain the difficult conversations with parents. My husband and I have had the difficult conversations with both of our fathers. If you are at this stage of your life, or maybe you have been there already, then you may have also had this conversation. You know, the one that asks if they are prepared financially for their future, whether it be retirement home, long-term care, or having their funeral. Do they have life insurance? Where are the papers and the contact information of those we need in the event of emergency or death? Andrew's dad was more prepared, and before his passing, added him as a Power of Attorney. This made the process smoother in the midst of grief. Honestly, it allowed us the time to grieve.

    My dad, my Papa, well, that is another story. I was definitely "Daddy's girl". I was blessed to work with him some growing up and while in college. He taught me a lot. But, he was a stubborn, proud man. I knew he was not in the best of health, but he wouldn't admit it and wouldn't stop working. He visited us a lot to see his grandkids. During those visits I would try to find out more about the stage of his health, his finances, and his plans. He would tell me more about his health (but still not everything) than he would his finances. And he certainly didn't want to discuss plans. In May 2019, we stopped by my parents' house to stay for a couple days on our way to Chicago. On the refrigerator was his last ER visit report. It listed ALL his diagnosis and the years of the initial diagnosis. My father had Malignant Prostate Cancer that was diagnosed 5 days after our wedding in 2011! That was just 1 of the many things we uncovered. Andrew and I confronted him and expressed our concern. He commented that the cancer was benign. When we told him the report said malignant and we know what that means, I think he wished he had not kept the paper hanging up with 2 "kids" around who could decipher the medical language. I will never forget that day, the look on his face, or the fear in my body when we tried to ask him what his plans were. I told him I knew things (house and finances) were in a mess and I asked him if he went first if he would want to leave Mom in that mess. He said no, but that he had it handled....proud and stubborn. I didn't push the issue anymore. Then in December, he came for Christmas. He expressed some concerns he had to me about other things, but said he had it handled and would take care of it in January. 

    When they were getting ready to drive back to Indiana, my stubborn Papa climbed into the the driver's seat while I was upstairs changing our daughter from a diaper blowout. My mom came up to see if I was going to tell them goodbye. I was frustrated and said I was, but couldn't believe he couldn't wait a few minutes for me to clean Audrey up. Mom just said he was ready to get on the road and reminded me how stubborn he was. I hugged him the best I could while he still sat in the driver's seat. My gut told me it was the last time I would see my father and continued to twisted painfully as I watched them drive away, knowing it was the last time, but not wanting to believe it.

    Late on January 11, 2020 I got the call that my Papa was being worked on by paramedics. Into the first few minutes into January 12, he was gone. 

    I spent the next year heavily focused on the unprepared mess he left. I didn't get or take the time to grieve when I should have.  And there is still parts of the mess being dealt with and parts I am walking away from.

    I have spoken to a few people in the last year who have said that their parents also do not have things lined up. Maybe because of our life experience, but Andrew and I have everything prepared, but the last touches to our will, which we are currently working on. 

    So please, if you know your parents don't have things lined up, see what you can do to help them (if they will let you). Or see if you can take out a policy yourself to help with the finances when the time comes so you are not spending your savings. And, if your parent/s are as stubborn as my Papa, please let them know that the mess left can destroy families, take time unnecessary away from their grandkids, and leave you feeling lost and hopeless without being able to grieve properly.

#Fear

     Fear is the word that best describes how I am living my life right now. Fear is how I shop for groceries. Fear is how I plan my schedule. Fear is how I am surviving to take care of my family. This fear came into my life over six years ago when I found out Riley's heart had stopped. When I realized how precious and fragile the life of a developing child was. I fought and lived with this fear with my next three pregnancies. I re-lived it when I found out Gabriel did not have a heartbeat. Now, during my fifth pregnancy, I still have that fear. This time, I am not following along in apps or schedules to follow this pregnancy day by day or week by week. I think I am around 17 weeks, maybe 18. I know when I am due and I know when I will probably be induced. In my effort to not let this part of the fear in my life win, I am just doing what I do best, staying busy.
     However, there is another fear I am living with that adds to the fear of loosing another child in the womb. This fear is with Jonah's allergies. This fear fuels anger and frustration. This fear cripples me to my core when I realize that Jonah's food allergies is probably what will kill him. This fear does cause me to give him more attention sometimes because I don't know how long I have him on this earth. Then I get angry. I am angry that I think that way. Angry that I cannot go anywhere with food and not have a panic attack on the inside. Often, I am screaming from within and smiling on the outside so no one will know how terrified I am. I don't want people to see that I would rather be "safe" in our home, then risking him being near food that could cause another anaphylactic reaction that could be fatal. After all, home is where he has been when he has had three of his reactions. Two of which were my fault, purely accidental, and I will not forgive myself for that. My mistake only made me realize that I cannot send him to camps or parties as long as he has this fatal allergies. Angry that he will and has missed out on things in life because he has these allergies. We tried to be a dairy-free home for awhile. It did not work. I go into silent panic attacks when Nehemiah gets up from the table with possible dairy on his hands and starts touching things that Jonah could touch. I am trying to instill the fear I have on Nehemiah so he will think and wash his hands after eating. Five years old is a difficult age to understand. Insert more fear as I imagine what it will be like when it is time for Jonah to start Kindergarten. Right now, he has a fabulous school and amazing teachers who help watch out for him. What happens when he is surrounded by other kids who do not think, because they are kids? What happens when he gets invited to parties full of pizza and cake? I am searching for more answers. There is a lot that doesn't make sense to me and I need to find an allergist who can support me and make some of my fear go away. I cannot cook. I do not like it. I wonder why God would do this to my child.
     Years ago I was the strongest I have ever been in my faith. Life and fear have pushed that strength away and I have allowed it to blind me from where I should be. I have told a few people that Riley brought me closer to God and Jonah's allergies have taken me further away. Now, I sit here, thankful he is still with me. Thankful for both of my boys at home. Thankful for this baby growing inside of me. But a new fear has built on my others like another tetris block falling into place. This fear is what makes me. This fear is what makes it hard to get out of bed and at the same time, the part that makes me get out of bed. We were suppose to begin fertility treatments in January as my eggs were crippled and aged. We had about 1% chance of getting pregnant. We were surprised we were able to and thankful we did not have to begin fertility treatments. But now, I wonder if its my eggs that caused Riley's heart condition, even though we were told it was a fluke mutation. I wonder if its my eggs that have caused all of Jonah's problems. And I wait for what I will hear this child has from my aging body. That is my new fear. This is my life as it is now.
     I know everyone has their own fears and their own truths. I know each person has their own inner battle they are dealing with. This is mine. I often think I will drop my social media account. I often wonder if I need to blog anymore. My wonderful husband reminds me that there have been a few people who have felt less alone by reading my words.
    I have not blogged in awhile, mostly because I stay so busy, but mostly because it is difficult admitting inner fears. But, here it is, here is my soul for the better part of this past year poured out in an online forum for others. Whatever your inner battle is, know that you are not alone. Please know that even if it is not close to mine, there is someone else out there hurting too. I told a sweet friend a week ago that my therapy sometimes is to write. To pour my soul out. This may be in my blog or in a letter to someone that I never give them, or even to myself that no one else reads. Find what works best for you.
 

Gabriel, 3 years

     It has now been 3 years since I found out that Gabriel's heart was not beating. I had lots of moments I had to hold it together on August 31. I started to work on my post then, but the day got away and was filled with lots of tasks due that day that were going wrong. I spent a lot of time in the car and when the boys were napping in the back seat, I cried. I cried until I didn't think I could cry anymore. I was wrong. I cried again that night. I cried again on Saturday. I cried on Sunday. And I have cried today. Gabriel was a different type of child loss. He was a child that I can only imagine what he looks like. I can only imagine what it would have been like to hold him. I carried him in my womb for such a short time. I will carry him in my heart forever.
     I still believe in the truth behind the medical science of a broken heart. I had an EKG done this year due to chest pains. They are stronger when I am anxious because of stress and missing my sons I lost. I lost. Yes, I know, I should not blame myself. As a women, that is difficult. It is our body that is designed to nourish and carry our children as they begin to form. It is a miraculous process. It is a true gift designed by God. But my body failed. And my body is still failing as my heart yearns for another baby, a baby Andrew and I form together. It is my body that is not allowing this. How can I not blame myself or feel like a failure? This is a constant battle in my mind. I think I stay busy so I can somewhat shut it off.
     If you find yourself feeling this way, please know that you are not alone. I can tell you not to blame yourself. But I would be a hypocrite. I am praying through this. For the strength to not have my heart ache so badly. For the reassuring words and peace that this is God's plan. And for the courage to move forward and accept whatever is to be.
     It is not easy. I do not think it is suppose to be. I use to think being pregnant made me feel more connected to Riley. Now, as I think back to that awful day when I was loosing Gabriel, I think pregnancy helped connect me to him as well.

5 Years

     I cannot believe 5 years have passed since we last held Riley. On some days it feels like much longer since we lived the hardest day of our lives. Some days it feels like yesterday.
I remember feeling such peace as the nurse searched for a heartbeat and couldn't find it. I remember nervously talking, knowing that transitioning me to a room for an ultrasound was not good. I remember feeling such peace when the doctor announced how sorry she was and that she couldn't find a heartbeat. I remember her leaving the room and Andrew suddenly sobbing while I rubbed his back with this peaceful calm about me. I remember calling our parents to tell them as we stopped by the post office like it was a normal day. I remember calling patients to move their appointments so we could go to the hospital and prepare for delivering our stillborn son. I remember driving to the hospital and learning about NILMDTS. I remember finally loosing some of my peace during the epidural in the middle of the night and hyperventilating into a paper bag. I remember the doctor that delivered me talking about how she almost didn't make it because of the car line to Starbucks blocking her path to the hospital. I remember the moment Riley was laid onto my chest. I remember the laminated picture of a leaf with a rain drop hanging on my hospital door. This signified a loss occurred in that room. I remember the women who came to baptize Riley and wanting Pastor Andy, his wife Amy and my friend Melissa in the room.
     Some memories I have are angry. Some are happy. Many are sad. A few are fading. I have to fight to remember those. They may not be anything important, but I don't ever want to forget the day I said goodbye to my son before I got to say hello. Technically his heart stopped the day before I delivered him. So he died before he was born…that is stillborn. He died 1/31/13 and was born 2/1/13. If he was buried his headstone would read that way. But we chose to have him cremated and stay home with us. One day, he will be buried with us (whoever goes last).
     The first few years it was hard to go on vacation and leave him in our home. But I have to remember that it is just the ashes from his body. His soul is in Heaven.
     We recently began reading and studying the book, "The Power of a Praying Parent" in our LifeGroup. The first chapters made me mad. I prayed for Riley, others prayed for Riley. But he wasn't protected. He died. Then I remembered, he WAS protected. He IS protected. He served his purpose for his short life on Earth in my womb. He is not suffering. He doesn't have to deal with temptation and sin. He is with Our Father. Why would I want him here?! How selfish of me! Makes me sad that I want Nehemiah and Jonah here with me…praying for our children's souls and trying to raise them in the way they should be raised is a heavy burden. Maybe not burden, but it is a huge responsibility!
     We continue to try to teach Nehemiah and Jonah about their brothers in Heaven. I recently purchased the book "Someone Came Before You". How perfect! We talked about going away this weekend, but decided that we will probably just stay home. I have a dairy free cake mix and icing to use so Jonah can partake in the celebration of Riley as well. We will probably look at photos of Riley and watch his memorial service on DVD.
     I continue to pray for how God wants to use me and our story of Riley. I get frustrated with the lack of an answer at this point. And other times he reminds me that he is using me as he shares our story with someone who needs to hear it at the time he makes sure they do!
     While looking at photos the other week, Nehemiah said, "Thank you for holding Riley Mommy!" Oh sweet boy! If only you knew that I would hold you all for as long as God lets me! I would hold you all when you are twice my size if I still can and it is God's plan.
     5 years have passed. I still miss you! I still long to hold you again! I am still thankful for the short time I had with you! I am still thankful that God chose you to be our son. It isn't easier necessarily, but I am learning how to live without you on Earth. Your brothers have helped me heal as they give me things to focus my energy on. Someone very wise told me that the only thing that would pull me out of the darkness I let myself get into was to get pregnant again. For me, that is what worked. I was blessed to be pregnant with Nehemiah and that helped me pull the cotton out of my ears and listen to what God was telling me again.
     If you have experienced a loss, please do not get to the dark place I was. Please ask for help before then! If your partner is getting there, have an intervention! Get their friends to help them! It is not the place to be and it is not where our children or Our Father want us to be!
     Happy Birthday / Angelversary Riley! You are one of our greatest achievements and blessings! You are one of our greatest gifts! Your breaths may be done, but ours are still here and we will speak of you every chance we get! Your Earthly life is done, but ours is not and you are 100% a part of our story! We love you son! Thank you for the time we had together!

Dear Gabriel

Dear Gabriel,

I knew your name before I knew of you! I had a dream in which a woman I had never seen before visited me and told me that I would be having a boy and I should name him Gabriel. The next day, I took a test that was a very faint positive…in fact, I took 2 tests just to be sure my eyes were not playing tricks on me.

It was on that day I fell in love with you. It was on that day that I also knew that my time with you would be short. I had an inkling that you would pass before me. I wanted to believe it was the fear I will always fight in pregnancy. A week before you passed, my feeling became stronger and my heart was broken. I knew I would not have the time with you I prayed for on Earth. I was scared to love you more, and yet, as each day passed, I did. I still do!

The week you died is one that I will never forget, and yet one that is such a blur. I started bleeding heavy late on a Monday night. I waited for a call from the emergency on call doctor. Because I was not in much pain, and because you were so young, there was nothing that could be done. I could only go to the doctor's office every other day for blood draws. Those blood draw readings would rip my heart open more as I listened to how quickly I was loosing you.

I cried every time I used the bathroom. You deserved more than to be flushed down the toilet. I looked for you in clots of tissue. I know you were there, and I will always regret not being able to do something more.

I spent some time angry at God, as you know. Not just because you died, but because I didn't get much time to get to know you. I don't know what it is like to feel you move. I don't know what it is like to hold you in my arms. I don't know what it is like to kiss your sweet face. I had that time with Riley.

I feel as if so much more was taken from me when you died. I feel as though I am more lost for not knowing you, than knowing you and loosing you.

You will always be our third son. You will always be my third pregnancy. You will always be my gift from God. I will always love you.

I believe it was an angel that God sent in my dream to prepare me for you. I know God knew that I would need to name you to feel as though we had more of a connection than just 7 brief weeks.

I know you and Riley are watching us now. For that I am grateful and blessed! I do not know if your sibling I am carrying now will come home to live with us or go Home to live with you. You will be an amazing older brother either way!

I look forward to the day I come Home to meet you.

Until then my sweet son, I will do my best to make you proud and follow God's plan for my life on Earth.

Love,

Momma

Cautiously Optimistic

Yes, you could say I am cautiously optimistic.  You could also say that I am excited, nervous, protective, worried, emotional, and 4 weeks pregnant!

After Gabriel I heard many people tell me that I should have waited 12 weeks to share. But why? I mentioned in my blog announcement about Gabriel that we would share no matter what happened. Keeping my child's death a secret was not an option for me then. And, should God take this child home before I meet he or she, it won't change the option now.

Why shouldn't I be excited? The minute a test finally displays a positive pregnancy and a doctor confirms it, I have another child! I am the mother of 4 children!  Why shouldn't I be nervous? Gabriel went to Heaven after only 7 short weeks. Riley went to Heaven after 37 short weeks. My excitement could easily turn to grief. But, in my experience, waiting 12 weeks until a pregnancy is deemed "viable" or more "safe" does not deem it more viable or safe.

So rather than hide in my pregnancy secret for another 8 weeks, I will share now. There is no shame in sharing early. There is no shame in sharing late. There was a time where I thought, "I am not announcing my next pregnancy until I deliver." But as scared as I am, God is with me and letting my excitement outweigh my fear. And, why shouldn't I share this child's life now rather than have to announce the death before the life should that time come? If this child were to pass, I would grieve just as much sharing as not sharing. With the losses in our past, it would be normal for us to keep it a secret. However, knowing all the love and support we have had and continue to receive, we do not want to.

My husband is also cautiously optimistic. He wanted to wait until my blood results from Friday, compared to Wednesday, showed a viable pregnancy. I did not want to wait and as I mentioned earlier, I don't want an announcement Monday to read that I am pregnant but losing another one.

I can honestly say that I do not know what the nurse will call to tell me Monday. But I do know that no matter what, I am grateful for this life inside of me and the opportunity to have 4 children.

I do know that another loss could take me down again. But whenever I have been down, I have had enough prayers and support that help lift me up again. For that I am thankful and blessed!

Secondary Infertility

To all the women who have tried and tried and tried without success to get the positive sign on a pregnancy test:
To all the women who have tried and tried and paid a lot of money to have a child only to loose it during pregnancy or shortly after birth:
To all the women who had a baby and then kept experiencing loss or no more positive pregnancy tests:
I am so sorry for ALL that you have been through!
"Trying is the fun part"
"It will happen"
"When are you going to have a baby?"
"When are you going to have another child?"

All those phrases are like a knife to the heart and another punch in the gut.

Although we were blessed as a surprise with Riley and then only 3 months after loosing him got blessed with Nehemiah, I have experienced some secondary infertility that has required me to be treated by a fertility specialist. This is not a short, easy, or cheap process.

We decided to wait until Nehemiah was a year old to start trying again. Then we tried, and tried, and tried. My periods returned after the year, but had become normal to me, but have been that way for over  a year now so it has become my new normal. I met with a new OBGYN who has privileges at the hospital I want to always deliver at. It was a pleasant meeting and I expressed my concerns. She agreed that after 6 months of active trying and using an Ovulation Kit, we would need to begin testing. 6 months came, and the tests began. I had ultrasounds and blood work. But then, suddenly, to my surprise and excitement, we had a positive pregnancy test in late July after our 7th month of trying. I declined blood work to make sure levels were rising. Mostly I declined because I didn't want to make the drive to Nashville and take time off of work. I was sure everything would be fine. But, on the 7th week I started bleeding. I lost Gabriel. I was heartbroken and angered. I really didn't want to have to try again. Trying had become a chore and was not fun. But, we did try. We were told we could try right away. Sometimes a women is more fertile after a pregnancy. 4 more months went by. We were referred to a fertility clinic. More tests, more discussions, and I began acupuncture. During that time I also learned from my hairstylist that I was shedding more than normal and I should have my thyroid checked. Thyroid!? It was fine because I was having all the tests and thyroid issues can cause fertility problems and miscarriages so if it was not normal my doctor would have told me, right? Wrong! I called to find out what my level was and I had a voicemail saying that they never checked my thyroid and I may want to have it checked! I was angry! The doctor's office did not say to come in, we need to test it. They did not apologize for not testing it before or give a reason. Just told me to get it checked! I reached out to my maternal fetal specialist from my past pregnancies and she agreed to test it. Sure enough I have hypothyroidism. I cannot help but wonder if many of the issues in the past year would have been resolved if my thyroid had been checked much sooner!
Fast forward to now me being on medication (which dose has been increased due to my levels being too high on a low dose of Synthroid). And still doing more testing.

For those who are "trying" I am including this buzz feed video link that helped me find humor in the trying part. I hope you can successfully watch the video from the link. If not, look for it on Buzzfeed!

http://www.familyfriendlyhq.ie/family-blog/make-a-baby--funny-video-uncovers-the-wacky-world-of-trying-to-conceive

Looking in the mirror

I have not felt much like blogging this past year. I do get ideas or things I believe I should share, but I have not felt like taking the time to sit an write. Lately, I have felt more called to blog. I pray that God speaks through me the next few weeks and months as I start to blog some more of my recent thoughts and feelings. After all, I feel it is God telling me to do it again.
I have also been avoiding Facebook. I was going to delete my account, but my loving and supportive husband told me to keep it to post my blogs to because he believes they help some women. I believe lately, that the help has been for women to know when to walk on the other side of the street when they see me!
When tragedy strikes your life, it is difficult to keep emotions in check. When your life doesn't go as you plan, it is easy to let the darker emotions surface and to move in on more of a permanent basis. I believe it is normal to have those dark emotions and to experience them. However, they should only vacation and not take over residence. This past year I have been let my dark emotions purchase a condo in my life. The past few weeks I have been battling over the residence and evicting them...but it will take time.
I thought loosing Riley was the most difficult thing we would experience. It was not. Loosing Gabriel was a whole new type of loss and one in which I felt like I didn't get the closure I needed because I did not get to see or hold him. I lost him over toilets for a week. I thought maybe losing Gabriel was now the most difficult thing I would experience.  It was not.
The most difficult thing I experienced was looking in the mirror at the person I was becoming and realize that is not who God wanted me to be. That was not who Riley or Gabriel wanted me to be. That was not who I want Andrew or Nehemiah to see everyday. Don't get me wrong, losing Riley and Gabriel hurts everyday like no other hurt I have ever felt,. But knowing I was hurting the One who created me, who gave me my beautiful children, that was difficult to face. It is normal to be angry, to be jealous. Those feelings will always be there, I am human.  However, how can God make beautiful things out of me if I am making more of a mess.
What brought me to this mess you might ask? Well, MY plan of having 4 children. MY plan of getting pregnant again when Nehemiah was 1. MY plan of Riley being my only story to share. MY plans have not gone as you guessed it....planned.  There is still more to my story and not being sure where to go next has been making it easier to go back, to go to the darkness. To hide and be angry. Andrew and I are now experiencing secondary infertility. My story is adapting and I cannot rip the pages out because I do not like it. I can only edit the ending and maybe a few in between chapters. If my life were to end tomorrow, I do not want the person I was a few weeks ago to be who I am remembered as. My life, my motherhood journey will not be an easy story. I should have learned that during our first ultrasound of Riley.
For now I will end with this, but I will be writing more very soon: if you are like me and struggling to find the purpose in your journey. Please listen to the song "Beautiful Things" by Gungor. Pray through and sing through the song and let it speak to you like it has been speaking to me, especially today.

October

October 2015

Here we are again, another October in which Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness will flood my mind, mouth, and Facebook page.

This October, I have 2 children I remember and honor.

This year, we will be using the words "I Break The Silence" on our t-shirts for our candlelight ceremony on October 15th. You may see things this month, or even other times, that say "I am 1 in 4". The statistic is that 1 in 4 women will have a pregnancy or infant loss.

This month, if you are someone who has experienced a pregnancy loss, or you know someone who has, please look into local events for October 15th. Sometimes, there are events on other days held by other Angel Moms or hospitals or other organizations.

If you know someone who has experienced a pregnancy or infant loss, and you want to do something for them, I will include a few organizations in which you can financially donate in memory of that child. Make sure you use the child's name if the parent/s did name the child. If they did not, you can let them know that you donated in memory of their baby. Please do not just say "Sorry for your loss" when you are doing a donation. Also, you could write the parent/s a letter, send them a message, mail them a card.  In your writing, mention their child's name.  When a parent has a child, that parent tries their best to protect their child. When a parent has a loss, those who are ready, protect their child's memory. We love to hear and see our boys' names!  We just bought an ornament for Gabriel to hang on our tree. I learned that my neighbor who made Riley and Nehemiah's stockings will be making one for Gabriel.  The times that I have read Riley's names on paper were so precious to me. I won't get to write it or see it as often as I will Nehemiah's so every little mention is blessing to me.

Also, you could send a letter or card to the grandparents, aunts/uncles, siblings of the lost baby/infant as well. Many parents I have spoken with after their loss ask me if it is normal to console their friends and family more than they are being consoled. It is normal. I think God gives us the peace when we need it so in those moments we can help be strength for our friends/family.

Organizations to donate to or ideas for gifts:

1. Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep - this wonderful organization sends photographers to the hospital, if the baby was at least 21 weeks in utero, to take photos at no charge.

2. Molly Bears - this beautiful gesture is a bear made with symbols to remember the child at the weight the child was when he/she was lost. There is a minimal fee to pay to be put on a list and you can only join the list on the 30th of each month. And, only the mother may sign up if I remember correctly. But they make and mail the bears off of donations after that. I am currently on the waiting list.

3. NICU Helping Hands Angel Gown Program - this fantastic organization turns wedding gowns into free gowns for photos and burial services for lost babies. They work off of financial donations as well as donations of wedding dresses and volunteer seamstresses (which they need more of, if I ready correctly).

4. Mail a copy of "Empty Cradle, Broken Heart" to me and I will give it to my friend collecting them to give to local hospitals. Or mail a copy to a mom who has had a loss, even if the loss was 20 years ago. Put a note on the inside "In memory of .....". Or, take some to your local hospital.

5. Get on Etsy or shop for a candle with the child's name on it. Give it to the parent or grandparents to light at 7pm on October 15th, or whenever they want to.

6. Get on the website, october15th.com, go the the "Shop Our Store" tab and buy something for the parent/s.

7. Give a necklace or bracelet with the child's name on it.

There are lots of other organizations and groups you can donate to. You can always ask the parent/s too how they would like their child to be remembered.

I did not miscarry

     Many of you know that we had a 7 week pregnancy lost just last week. I spent that week awaiting test results to find out if the bleeding and cramping I was experiencing were in fact the baby passing or just a medical concern during a viable pregnancy. The results came in and my pregnancy hormone levels were drastically dropping. It was time to say goodbye. This happened just as quickly as we were learning to say hello.
     I read an article somewhere on Facebook or Pinterest…that week was such a blur. It was by an OBGYN who said that he never tells a patient that she miscarried or that she was having a stillborn baby. He would tell his patients that they were having pregnancy losses and infant deaths. This physician said he learned throughout his years that mothers wanted the life they had lost acknowledged and if he worded it differently, they felt that their child was being honored for the life they had.
     This was difficult for me. Riley would be an infant loss, but I want to raise awareness on stillbirth so badly that I do not think I will drop that term for awhile. I may start interchanging it.  However, I do like the thought of saying I had a pregnancy loss rather than a miscarriage.
     I did not miscarry our third child. It took me a long time to fight the enemy out of my head for what I did wrong with Riley. I will not let the enemy in by using a term that sounds like I did something wrong. I will not go into the dark months like I did with Riley.  I had 7 months with Riley and only 7 weeks with this baby, whom I believe was a boy and we have named Gabriel.  Each was a loss we experienced. Each loss gives me different feelings. But both losses were my children and I will honor them the best that I know how.
     Only God knows why Gabriel needed to go home so early. I do wish I could have had more weeks with him, even if it was to say goodbye.  I feel like I was cheated with Gabriel. I do not have ultrasounds. I never heard his heart beat. I never felt him kick.  My belly had already begun stretching out and I am fighting to fit into clothes that fit 4 weeks ago.
     I did not miscarry Gabriel. I took the vitamins and medicines required. I started paying more attention to what I was eating and what I was doing. Gabriel was not meant to live here with us. Riley is continuing to fulfill his big brother role. Now our Nehemiah is a big brother too.  This is part of God's plan and our healing this time will be too.
     I have a few ideas I am working on to help honor our children that our gone too soon, especially through pregnancy losses, both early and full term. I will use the anger of the pain from my own losses and the anger I get when I hear of other mother's having losses to give life to my ideas.
      Some women may say that the have had a miscarriage, but for me, I had a pregnancy loss. Actually, I have had 2. I had one at 37 weeks and another at 7 weeks. And, the reality is, this may not be the end of our losses. If our loss story/journey continue, I will continue to praise God and fight the enemy and it is only by others praying for us that we gain more strength to live with our heads up and share with others how we survive.

Baby #3....did we announce too early?

Many of you may have been shocked by our announcement,  especially when you found out I am only 5 weeks pregnant. I would like to share my thoughts on our announcement.

Being a mother has been a dream of mine for many years. As time went on I wasn't sure it was going to happen. Loosing Riley definitely changed me, changed my perspective, and made me more cautious and aware of the reality of pregnancy and loss.

You can read back to one of my previous blogs in which I documented the entire pregnancy with Nehemiah. After Nehemiah, I thought the next time I would wait the 12 weeks in which miscarriage rates are less and share.

But, time passed and we had trouble getting pregnant. Some of it was stress....I can stress myself out very easily. Some of it was family or business situations that would prevent intimacy from when it was needed most. I worried more of it was my age and MTFHR. We visited the doctor a couple times. I had an ultrasound and blood work done. So far, they could not see anything wrong with why we were having trouble. This month I was suppose to go for another blood test, and if that came back positive it was Andrew's turn. I swore it was me. Something was wrong with me. I told Andrew we needed to adopt and I started to let the depression that has never completely left me swallow me whole.

Then, but an act of God...Andrew would agree...I didn't feel right one week. Ever since my periods returned after Riley I would spot leading up to them. This particular week I did not. This particular week my pants didn't fit. This particular week my boobs would not stay in my bra. And this particular week I was more tired then ever but had this odd sense of joy trying to push out my depression. So, like all the months before in which I was sure I was pregnant I took a test. But I took this test after work. And, like all the months before I sat there and yelled at God for not making me pregnant, although I knew this month it would be a miracle since I didn't let Andrew touch me much and the mood I was in, I couldn't blame him for not trying harder. And there it was...a faint line that I could see after I dug the test back out of the trash and shined it in the right lighting. "Ugh, Angie! Get a grip!" I thought to myself. So I tucked the test away and continued to let that joy push out the anger, push away some depression. Later that night I decided to tell Andrew what I did. Of course he was skeptical and didn't say much.

The next day, I ran to the drug store over lunch and took another test. I took a minute test this time because I was too anxious to wait 3 minutes. There was another line, slightly darker but still faint. I was excited! I was for sure that I was pregnant. Andrew looked at the test and showed a little excitement but still some caution.

Then, I waited the 48 hours and took a test at home with the morning urine as the instructions say is best. And there, in all its glory were 2 bright pink lines! Andrew was as excited as I was! There was no doubting or questioning the lines for this test!

I called my doctor's office and they confirmed my good fortune. In the past I had to go for blood work, but we are cash paying and this office said unless I wanted to drive to Nashville 2 days this week, they did not see any reason for it unless I started bleeding or cramping or really not feeling well.

So, I will wait, I will pray, and I believe this is the 3rd child that God has blessed us with. Will I carry this child to term and deliver a healthy baby like Nehemiah? I do not know. Will this pregnancy be easier and not result in pre-eclampsia? I do not know.

What I do know is that I am pregnant. I do know that we go in September for our first ultrasound and exam. I do know the reality of not finding a heartbeat at that visit. I do know the reality of hearing a nice, fast "pub-dub". I know that many women who have experienced a loss do not share early like we have. I know that many women who have not had a loss do not share so early like we have. But I do know that for me, I am excited, and I will blog and talk about this child no matter the outcome. I pray that God lets us bring this child home to raise, but I also pray that if it is not His will that He helps me continue to work for Him until the day I get to see my babies in Heaven.

So yes, I am only 5 weeks pregnant at this point. But what a blessed 5 weeks it has been! You can ask Andrew and he will tell you how this has helped bring me out of my pit of grief!  Each month the test was negative and my period returned was like a loss of Riley all over again. I miss being pregnant because while I am pregnant I feel more connected to Riley than any other days of my life!

Thank you for letting me share my journey with you and for all your thoughts and prayers and well wishes!

I Want My Old Life Back, Or Do I?

     Do you ever attend a church service or an event in which the pastor/speaker shares a story or words of encouragement and think, "How did he know I was feeling that way?  Is there a camera in my house?"
     We are blessed to be part of an amazing church family in TN and our pastor uses his sermons to speak directly to me.  I hope one of these days he can speak to someone else! :)  Today's sermon was no different.  And today, I faded in and out of listening because of all the thoughts that are filling my mind with "Poor Me".  But there is HOPE!  I keep forgetting about the hope.  God doesn't disappoint.  I know some may argue, and there was a time when I would have argued that if God doesn't disappoint, why isn't Riley here laughing and healthy and teaching Nehemiah?  I believe he is not here because taking Riley home, to Heaven, was his plan all along. That plan led to us having a beautiful, healthy Nehemiah here now only because Riley is not. Nehemiah was my hope.  And more often than not I loose sight of the hope because I am on my own time frame, not God's.
     My husband is an amazing man.  He is my superhero.  Upon waking he has to put on his business owner and Dentist hat. He provides for his family and works hard to help pay his team. He does his best to help parents understand the oral health of their children. Then he comes home after a 10 hour day, most of the time with only 10 minutes to breathe in a sandwich without chewing for lunch. Then he has to put on his Dad and home owner hat.  He helps clean the house, cook dinner, and care for our 14 month old son. After Nehemiah goes to bed he continues to go back to work checking emails and responding to messages he missed throughout the day. Before we know it, it is 10pm and he has to try to get some sleep.  Somewhere along the day, because we work together, he puts on his husband hat and soothes me when I am anxious or annoyed.  In all honestly, I am envious of the ease he makes his day appear to be.  He is more patient, understanding, and relaxed than I have ever been.  As much as I try, it is not in my nature and it is a constant battle for me.
     This past year, we have done very well and are continuing to feed and nurture a growing business. We are blessed.  But with this growth has come many challenges.  I have put in many weekends trying to catch up, missing my husband and child time.  I know that this is just temporary, but when I upset my husband because I am working on the weekend, I feel like more of a failure than I already do for missing my son so much during the week.  In the midst of all this chaos and excitement and work, I realize that our marriage is not what it should be.  We do not fight, but we do not listen to each other like we use to. We are still under 5 years of marriage and should be living more like newlyweds.  As I realize how much we are not listening to each other and thinking about what we need to do to fix it before it really becomes a problem, more challenges arise.
     We had closed the office for a Friday months in advance to enjoy one day together as a family.  The Sunday of that week Nehemiah started running a high fever. Five days, one after hours visit, and one normal office doctor hour visit later we discovered that he had an ear infection. And, shortly into that week we also learned that my Uncle passed away.  My superhero husband knew how much my uncle meant to me and insisted that we use that day to travel to the funeral. So we did. Another 2 weeks of no meals together, no date nights, and this life I keep telling myself is temporary.
    Two days after we arrived home from the funeral we got a call that Andrew's step mom found his dad unresponsive and called an ambulance. He is now recovering at the hospital as they run more tests and try to find answers for his pain. His dad has suffers from Parkinson's disease and has for several years. He has been in severe abdominal pain the past few months without any definite diagnosis or anyway to stop the pain. He decided to overdose his pain medicine.  My superhero husband has to add the son hat back on to go visit his dad more.
     Now as we pray for healing, pray for answers, and visit him in the hospital I think more about where my life is and I don't like it. I want my old life back. But after today's sermon, what life is that? At any point in my life we have had struggles and trouble. At every point of my marriage the enemy has tried to destroy it. I believe that since the death of our child could not separate us, but only made us stronger, the enemy is trying to use the business and health of our parents to come between us again.  So, I don't want my old life back. I want God in my life more. I want my husband more. I want to find the hope that I seem to have let go of and I want my husbands hand to help hold me along the way of this crazy, emotional, difficult, exciting time in our lives as we prepare for what lies ahead.  I know I cannot do any of this alone, and it helps to have my earthly companion.
     This is my life. I don't know why I get upset from it. I have many blessings. It is easy to get caught up in the problems and take the blessing for granted.  My marriage, my husband, and my 2 sons being part of my blessings! If I can give anything to any of you reading this that are looking for guidance, my advice would be to pray. Pray for strength until you can feel the hope. Pray for patience as you go through the trials of life. This life is only temporary even though it may be many years long!

Scars

     Tonight, as I was bathing Nehemiah, I noticed a trickle of water running down his chest. This was no ordinary trickle of water.  This trickle of water was enough to make me forget to breath.  This trickle of water was enough to make my heart stop for a beat.  For just a brief moment this trickle of water looked like scar tissue.  For that brief moment our second born son appeared to have a scar on his chest that we anticipated our first son would have. For a brief moment I let myself pretend that Riley was in the bathtub. I could imagine that Riley, who would be turning 2 in just 12 days was alive and well. I could imagine that his scar was healing well from his heart surgery.  I wanted to reach out and hold Riley.
     But, that moment quickly faded into reality. The reality that our healthy son, Nehemiah was the son actually in the tub.  The reality that our second son, who will be 1 tomorrow was sitting and smiling at me. The reality that if Riley was the son in the tub, Nehemiah would not be in the tub. The reality that Nehemiah may not have even been born yet if Riley were here.

     Guilt. Pain. Numbness. Anxiety. Depression. Heartache. Fear. Love. Joy.

    The feelings that I felt when we lost Riley that have become my scar tissue. Those feelings began to surface and reopen my wound in that moment.  "I'm sorry, there is not a heartbeat." went along with the trickle of water moment.  How can so much feeling exist in one tiny moment?  Why does so much feeling and emotion come with one brief moment, but last a lifetime beyond?  Why does that feeling and emotion hit a person at the most unexpected moments, but when the same person wants to set aside time to feel that emotion, the tears won't come?  Those moments that add scars to our hearts.

     There are days when something will catch my eye or take my breath away and I will be a sobbing mess.  Most of the time anymore, sad moments, or moments that I remember Riley only stop my breath for a moment.  I can feel my eyes wanting to flood with tears, however, my ducts are dry.  I cried so much the first few months after loosing Riley that my eyes were dry for most of the year that followed.  Then, when I gave birth to Nehemiah, the tears started flowing again. My scar had been reopened. Now, as we approach Nehemiah turning a year old, the ducts are dry.  I still feel that I want to cry, but I mostly feel a sharp tug on my heart. I have more moments in which it is difficult to breathe. I have moments I can feel my scars, the ones that have healed, and the ones that will never heal properly.

     I have read articles about how the human heart can be physically affected when a person experiences heartache.  I have had my heart broken throughout the years, but most of those scars have mended.  The heartache from the loss of Riley was deeper than any heartache I have ever experienced. That scar will never heal.  There is not enough time that could pass.  My scar will only heal when I get to see and hold Riley again.

     I thank God everyday for Nehemiah.  I can and will miss Riley, but I would not change anything to have him here.  Nehemiah is suppose to be here.  I have said that I never want to think about how old Riley should be or what he should be doing.  But I know the truth is that I will.  In one brief moment tonight, I did.
   
     Tomorrow, we celebrate Nehemiah's birthday.  It is hard to believe a year ago I was staring at a picture of Riley and holding onto his prayer beads as I pushed through labor to bring Nehemiah into this world.  A year ago tomorrow I was sobbing for joy at the sound of a breathing son and mourning the loss of Riley all over again.  Tomorrow I will celebrate Nehemiah, but my Riley scar will break open.  Tomorrow I will smile and laugh, but I will be crying inside.  Tomorrow makes the day that God gave us a son to be a little brother to Riley and a day that I will never forget.

     I miss being pregnant. In an odd way, being pregnant was my strongest connection to Riley.  I have felt him here and there this past year. but nothing like when I was pregnant.  I miss that feeling. We talk about Riley daily with Nehemiah.  We tell him good morning and good night.  My hope and prayer is that as Nehemiah gets older and we talk about his big brother more, it will massage my scar and allow me to feel Riley with me again.