Today is one of those days. I didn’t know it when I woke up, but it didn’t take long. This morning, I got ready, ate breakfast, helped Jake get the baby ready to take him to the doctor since he’s got yet another ear infection. Pretty normal kind of day. Mira wasn’t, particularly on my… Continue reading Mira Days
I’ve always found the way strangers ooh and aww over a stranger’s baby to be odd. Perhaps because I’ve never done it. Having walked the path of infertility, miscarriage (six times for that matter), then child loss (after our five month old daughter passed away), I have spent most of my adult life avoiding babies,… Continue reading To you he’s just a baby boy, but to me…
There’s something about kids, babies, and pregnancy that leads to a lot of counting on the fingers. We find ourselves counting weeks down and weeks to go, marking special dates and anniversaries, planning out appointments, and anticipating milestones. Optimism and faith after my first miscarriage helped me get past my fears, and I bravely scribbled… Continue reading Faith to write in ink.
Dear PICU (or CVICU or NICU or any other ICU) Mama, You are a Warrior. When a child is critically ill or injured, it is impossible to describe the suffocating feelings of helplessness, fear, and frustration that rip through a mother. Beyond that, it is impossible to describe how the experience will change your identity.… Continue reading Dear PICU Mama, You are a Warrior.
Not too long ago, Jake turned and looked at me, with a serious expression across his face, and he told me I had changed. That’s not exactly what a wife wants to hear, you know. It’s an ominous, loaded statement. We were at a stoplight, discussing an upcoming surgery I would be having. I had… Continue reading Better.
I hate when I get in these moods. After our last miscarriage, as most people who know me (or have read my blogs) know, I saw a grief therapist for a little while, mainly because I wanted to know that the way I deal with loss is healthy. Little did I know how important that… Continue reading Floating.
In a perfect world, I would not have overslept this morning, rolling out of bed in a panicked frenzy to get dressed as my concerned mom (my son's caretaker for the day) came inside through the garage door, calling helllloooo y'all, realizing from the dark rooms that we must still be in bed. In a… Continue reading In a perfect world.