Milieu of Me

Oh my word, I would need a HUGE one….

Well he’s spent four days at Grandma’s, hitting, kicking, punching, buying, and satisfying every ego impulse he’s ever had.

Today I had to fight to get him to eat lunch, and SIT whilst doing it.  I won, but it was a brutal battle.

I nipped the hitting pretty good.  He tried whomping me this morning and I put my foot down so he knows not to.  The true sign was at the playland (it’s raining) this morning.  He tried to peel another childs fingers off his Volcano.

Then I’m pretty sure he mowed over another child while I was running to catch up with him.  Then he slid down the slide RIGHT into a little girl.  I picked him up, and said, “Grant tell her you’re sorry you hit her.”

“NOOOO!”

We moved over to the side.

“Grant Washington, you have to be respectful of other peoples bodies.  It’s hurts when you do that, and it’s not okay to hurt the things that God has made.  When you do that you say your sorry.  If you can’t act appropriately we are going home NOW.  Comprende?”

“Yes Momma.”  Sad face.

Off he runs, and was GOOD THE REST OF THE TIME.  He knew I was watching, and THOUGHT about things before he did them.

Oh Lord I almost fainted. :)  But it’s always temporary.

Now he’s been down for at least a half hour, and is screaming after I laid him down.  I wonder sometimes if it’s worth it, but then I remember him RUNNING towards the elevator, Grandpa’s hand in his yelling, “BYE!” at me.  I think it is.

Now, I just must remember that.

There are some things in life I have learned I take for granted.

My hubby’s physical presence is one.  When he’s not here, a giant hole develops.  I never know how much, even when he’s being a pest, I love just sitting on the couch with him.  Especially if he’s got a hand on me, or I on him.  When he’s gone traveling, the wee one and I both just aren’t the same.  We go into survival mode.

The wee one.  This one blows my mind.  After the miracle of him coming to us, and all our IF issues would probably show me this huh?  Not really.  While he was gone, I missed his little babbling.  His singing songs.  His yelling at every truck, car, and train.  SO much that the boy and I still called them out when he was gone.  The way he notices EVERY LITTLE THING.  He notices ants I don’t even pay attention too.  He sees little people and babies I don’t even look at it.  He’s just so much LIFE.  The boy was looking at his little baby pics today, and just said, “You know we don’t even realize how innocent, how PURE he is.”  Today I read him Green Eggs and Ham, and he looked at me and giggled everytime I got excited, or read excitedly.  I forget even how he looks at me, and makes me feel like NOTHING ELSE IS IMPORTANT EVER.

This apartment.  I remember when we first moved in, the security it brought.  We’ve been oh so focused on moving OUT of it, that I just forgot how in love we really are with it.  What it symbolizes in our life.  A faith in a God who provides.  Jehovah Jirah.

I could go on and on.  It’s just so HUMAN to do this, and yet I know that I’m forgetting to enjoy having my body to myself.  In a couple months, I could be sharing it and PUKING my guts out.  Instead of being mad that it doesn’t work, shouldn’t I rejoice in the silence and the peace of only having one little one running about?

Perspective.  It’s all about perspective.

I am feeling beyond blessed today.  I just don’t understand how I’m so lucky.  Thank God I am.

“So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you.”

Romans 12:1-2

Today was one of them days.  A day you can’t stop the force of, and just keeps kicking at you.

Luckily it ended with picking up our boy.  WHO is spoiled rotten, and acting like a turd.

BUT he and his Grandma and Grandpa had SO much fun.  They were all too sad to leave each other, and Grant kept giving my dad hugs.  It’s just so cute.  It’s fun to see the relationships develop with your kids and your parents.  I love the special relationships with all three sets of his grandma’s and grandpas.  Each so unique but so loving and perfect.  It amazes me sometimes how although things can be crappy with parents, when the babies come it just evens everything out.  I am also amazed at the respect our parents give us in our parenting roles.  They are all six very concerned about keeping things consistant, but still having fun.  Grants going to have a birthday party with all of them, and I’m so excited for him.  I knew our families would be awesome at loving him, but I just had no idea how wonderful it would be.

The boy got a raise and a promotion today, under some pretty tough circumstances.  He’s such a good man.  I am always amazed at his ethical prowess.  He handled it like a champ, and I’m proud.  He works hard, and is passionate about his job.  Two things that aren’t easy to come by.  He cares deeply, and it’s a testament to his character.  The wee one and I are blessed to have him.

More troubles with the house.  Long story, but we’re holding our ground.  We know God has a plan, and we’re just along for the ride.

Did I mention I got an ovarian cyst today?  PAIN PAIN PAIN.  Ouchie.  Not fun, but I think I’m avoiding surgery so that’s good.  It’s just a by-product of the hormones.

The one one crashed finally, so I’m going to go to bed too.  He’s so overstimulated, I doubt he’ll sleep long or well.  And we start over with the discipline tomorrow.  Ugh.  I hate this part.

I love babies and I having so much fun playing with Greta.  She rocks.

Okay so I’m alone with myself.  The boy is playing around and I am out typing away and honestly….grieving.  It’s easier to do with Grant away.  I give myself permission easier.

I’m not pregnant yet, and i hope my little post didn’t give anyone a start when I was talking about babies.  I’m just trying to cling to hope.

And please know, I’m fine.  I will be fine, and I am so.  I have hope.  I just sometimes have to let my feelings out.  I hope someone finds it helpful.  Someone lurking accross blogs finds this, is going through the same and gets something from it.  That’s why I posted it.

Losing a child, whether you’ve had it or not is hard, and it’s a LONG process.  The 4th of July, the month of July is fast approaching.  We’d dubbed it the month of doom and gloom, because originally if we weren’t pregnant by Grant’s birthday we were going to seek some treatments.  That all happened on an accelerated path due to other things happening.  It’s also officially a year in August since we lost Gabriel.  These anniversary’s are hard for us obviously.  This fourth of July will be the first in two years I won’t be pregnant.  It’s rough.

So I hope you’ll bear with me these next couple months, as I am officially in the midst of infertility treatments, dealing with hormones and dealing with grief.  It’s not all going to be pretty, and I just hope you know I’m normal…it’s normal.  And everything will be okay.

God says.

I hope

There are times where it chokes me.  The realization I’m not a mother of one…but of three.  When I look around for them.  When I think, wait….feel something missing, and go about my remedial day.
I remember after my nephew died, waking up each day and feeling like, “Oh okay…Hello.” And then realizing my nephew was gone, my family was devastated, and it always hit me like a ton of bricks.  The feeling of physical pain associated with grief is nothing but under reported.  I would swallow the vomit, feel the ache, and move forward.  SLOWLY.  I would medicate.  I would drown.
As I sit here, and think about my babies, I often wonder what were they like.  What kind of spirit did they have?  I think of Gabriel as sweet and mellow, and Ruby as happy and playful.  I think they both had blond curls and blue eyes and chubby little rolls irresistible to the likes of their mother.  Of course they’re beautiful, and charming and just steal the show.  Much like their brother and their cousin.    I wonder if they would have clung to me like Grant does, and if I would drink them in as deeply as I do him.
It sounds weird but there is something absolutely intoxicating about the smell of your child.  It’s something you can’t describe, but love.
I look at Ashlynn and Ben, and wonder what my little Gabriel would be doing now.  What milestones would he have reached this month.  If Grant would kiss and cuddle him like he does them.  I think about what his nursery would’ve looked like, and how much fun I would have had watching him grow.  How much I would have cherished every moment, like I do Grants.
And then I stop and think, but if that were the case, I never could have dreamed of Ruby.  The boy and I never would have laid in bed the night we found out she was there, and talked about what a difference a little girl would make in our lives.  I never would have gotten the glimpse of the boy softening already, as he thought about holding his little girl.  I never would have dreamed the dream.  And isn’t it better to have loved her and lost her to have never loved her at all?
I would be cuddling a one month old baby right now if she would have made it.  I would be swimming in a world of pink, bows, and lacy girly fun.  I would be plotting her dancing, gymnastic, and cheerleading careers, I would be dreaming of her heart.
But not if I hadn’t given Gabriel back.
And I if I hadn’t given Ruby back, I wouldn’t be dreaming right now.  Dreaming of the two little miracles God will be handing us soon.  He promised, through words that I will become pregnant with twins, and while that hasn’t happened yet.  I know it will.
I wouldn’t be marveling at how we’ll be handling twins, what asexual nursery I could put together for the two of them.  Wouldn’t be worrying about loving all three of my babies enough.
In the midst of all the pain, the physical pain I would not know the God I know now.  I wouldn’t seek Him as hard.  I wouldn’t wonder what it all means.  I wouldn’t have learned what I have about my husband.  About his strength, about his heart for his kids.  I wouldn’t know the stories of the others who have walked this road before me.
I wouldn’t have learned that God is God no matter what.  I know that and it’s starting to drop in my heart.
Would I know to cherish Grant?  Would I take for granted the ability to have a baby?  Would I go to the stores and walk through the baby aisles and wonder when my turn would be?  Would I be as excited as I will be, when they lay those babies next to me and say, “Here’s your daughter and your son?”  Would I cry just thinking about the gift of it all?
I don’t have the answers.  Just the pain of wondering.  Just the hurt of hoping.  Just the hope of God.  I lost His hope.  Handed it over and said, “I AM FINISHED WITH YOU WITH THIS.  HOW COULD YOU.  I HATE YOU LET THIS HAPPEN.  WHERE ARE YOU.  WHERE ARE YOU….WHERE ARE YOU…and what do we do now?”
My heart catches thinking about that.  Just like Sarah laughed at God and planned her own way.  I did the same thing.  I still do.  I’m not perfect.  Neither was Peter.  Now he’s the disciple crucified upside down, because the death of the Savior wasn’t fit for him.
My hope now is that I can ride the rest of the journey.  I can love God and know He loves me.  I hope I can feel His presence and love.  I’m not there yet.  I still  ache and wonder a lot of days.  But when I see Him.
I dance.  The dance of the redeemed.  The dance of giving my children and better life than I could.  The dance of hope, and joy, and love.
And my soul becomes still and silent.  I want that all the time.  The darkness comes but JOY comes with the morning.  And my mourning brings joy.
Thank you God for my babies.  Thank you for giving me the dream.  And thank you for your promise to fufill it, and doubly bless me.  Thank you for Gideon and Gracie.

has been taken by his Grandma and Grandpa.  They were supposed to come hang out with us, but instead they took the wee one back to Iowa with them until Wednesday.

We told Grant this morning (while my mom and dad were at the hotel still) that he was going to go with Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a few days, and he was ALL ABOUT LEAVING.  LIKE NOW!  When my parents did show up, he went running for them, and gave them HUGE hugs and kisses.

SO blinking adorable.  My Dad couldn’t stop laughing…they are madly in love those three.

And so now I get to stay home about three days, without a baby!  Oh the freedom!  Plus we went and picked up the Grandma’s car so we BOTH have a car.  YES.

I have a little baby I’m watching tomorrow for my friend and I’m WAY excited about that.  Baby and me alone all day!  WHAT FUN.

Otherwise I’m not quite sure what I will do with myself. :)  I’m glad. :)  It’s going to be fun.  Yay for impromptu vacations!

This post has been deleted because I shouldn’t have written it.
Seriously, I have no right to post about that on my blog.  This isn’t a place for me do that.  If I have issues I need to take it up with her directly.  I’m not perfect, and God really convicted me on it this morning in church.

Soooo….I’m sorry.  I don’t want to drag you guys down with my blabber.