Isaiah 40:29-31
29 He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. 30 Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; 31 but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
This is my mantra as of late. I'm having a terrible time of feeling weary. I'm tired of expectations. I'm tired of fakeness (I made that a word ok? ok.). I draw strength from the Lord, and place my hope in Him daily. Ok, more realistically, hourly. I remind myself that I can't do this on my own, put my cross down, lay at His feet, and surrender my everything to the One who created me. He holds me in His hands, He catches every single tear that falls (and let me say, that's been quite a few lately).
I have no one in my "real life" that has ever been through the type of loss we've been through. I know no one who's had to be wheeled down the labor and delivery hall to leave the hospital with boxes of their children's belongings instead of a car seats with cute, pink newborns in them, pick up their child, in an urn, from a funeral home (that drive still haunts my dreams, day and night). People lose eye contact, get fidgety, change topics, run (ok, maybe not run, but I bet they think about it) when I start to talk about my children. I need to talk about my children. I need to reminisce about their smells, their looks, their personalities, just like I talk about my living children. You can consider me obsessed, but no more obsessed than I am with my children that are living, and no more obsessed than others are about their children.
I started going to a group that is local. This group is full of women who have walked a similar path that I've walked. I have been trying to connect for quite some time, but whether through fear, or scheduling, it hasn't worked out. I bit the bullet and went this past week. How refreshing. To talk about my children in a setting that doesn't judge, squirm, shut down, ignore. A group who can relate, who I don't feel crazy with, or like I need to walk on eggshells around.
I also joined a bible study/small group with a bunch of women who also can relate. I'm very much looking forward to this. I need this. Like water in a drought, my soul needs to be refreshed, revived, poured into. I need to not feel like this alien anymore. I need to not feel like I am walking around as one person, but yet inside of me, someone else is screaming, clawing, begging to come out.
I want to be accepted. I need to be accepted. This means my children too. My children who are no longer alive.
I'm so weary. I have nothing left to give to others, and I hate that. I want to support others in their struggles, in their joys, but I just haven't been able to. At least not truly. I can fake it. Boy, can I fake it. On the inside though, I'm dried up. There's nothing to draw from. I need to renew my strength. Or better put, I need the Lord to renew my strength. I need to run and not grow weary, to walk and not be faint.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Weary
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Happy Birthday (Part 2)
Monday, September 9, 2013
Happy Birthday! (Part 1)
August this year was a difficult one. Another reminder that yet again, my children aren't here. Yet again, pregnancy doesn't always end with rainbows and unicorns and cute, chubby, pink, breathing, healthy babies. Another reminder that this earth sucks and the anticipation for heaven to come is growing almost more than I can handle. This year, we did the gifts and cupcakes for the hospital again on the 27th. We went up there, this year with a new addition. He even "helped" stuff the gift bags this year. Don't worry, I definitely broke down in giving thanks more than once that Dominic is part of our family on this earth. Healthy, growing, full of joy and the most snuggliest little man ever.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Sloooooow Down!
Dominic is 6 months old. Time has went by way to fast for this momma's heart. I would like for everything to just slow down a little! Here's a few stats on my little lover:
Weight: 20lbs
Height: 28 3/4in
Shoe Size: 3
Diaper Size: 3
Clothes Size: 12 month mostly (some 9 month)
Schedule: 7/7:30am: wake up. Gets 4oz bottle with his Miralax, and cereal with pears.
9am: nap
10/10:30am: wake up
11am: 4oz bottle
12/12:30pm: down for nap
1/2pm: wake up
2pm: 4oz bottle
4pm: nap
5pm: wake up, 4oz bottle and cereal and veggie for dinner
6:30: bath and prayers
7pm: down for the night
He wakes anywhere from 1 - 5 times before 10pm. It's madness. He can't stay asleep
but if we try to keep him up he's so miserable and fussy. He just can't stay asleep.
10pm 5oz bottle (usually this is a dream feed)
3/4am: wake up and 5oz bottle and mostly goes back to sleep. If can't get back to sleep
we move to mommy's bed or the couch (depends on if daddy is in bed snoring away or
at work).
6am: wake up if he went back to sleep at the 3/4am mark. I usually scoop him up and
either sleep in my bed or the couch with him here until 7/7:30am. As long as his head
is on my chest, he stays asleep. He's been like this since day one. He loves to smell
and be with his momma. Daddy tries many many times, and Dominic just screams. I
come in and take over and his eyes are shut and he's practically snoring within
seconds. It's a little silly. He's got his preferences. I'm ok with it.
**some nights he's up a lot more, and once in a blue moon he's slept right through to 5 or 6 am. He refuses to eat more so that he can go longer, and he just is not a good napper/sleeper at night. He always wakes about 30 - 45 minutes after he falls asleep and has to be rocked back to sleep. He's a very restless little boy most of the time during his sleep.
**Dominic is now unswaddled. It was crazy. Sunday the 18th Dominic decided to start rolling over like it was his job, so we needed to unswaddle. And by "we" I mean me. Anthony was working nights, and overtime the next day. He was up ALL.NIGHT.LONG. It was awful. But now, I'm happy to report, that on Tuesday, the 20th, he is going down easy, and back to his up once or twice a night. PHEW!
**Dominic started Mum Mum's tonight. I was so excited when the dr said even though they aren't dairy free they wanted him to try and see how he reacted! He loved them! DEVOURED them!
He's a lazy little boy. Well, little is not a good word to describe him since he's HUGE! He can roll over, has done it numerous times, BUT doesn't care to. He will roll to his side and scream out if a toy is out of reach. He scoots all over the floor on his back. I don't even know how he does it! One second he's on his blanket or mat playing, and the next he's feet away! Claire will come running to where I am and say "Mommy, Dominic did this (and show me how he scooted on his back), and now he's way over there!" That boy is not going to get away with anything while his sister is around. That is for sure. He adores her. He could be in the worst of moods and bring Claire to him, he melts and turns to all smiles. He love to be outside. If I have to stretch out nap time or bed time, I take him outside. He's the calmest, quietest, most peaceful boy outside. I always joke that I will set up the pack-n-play outside for him to sleep since he LOVES it out there. It's to the point where if I bring him inside for anything for any amount of time, he fusses, screams, makes it known that he's unhappy. Step outside, it's instant calmness. Crazy. He is sitting up on his own a bit more and more. He still topples over when reaching too far. I had to get him out of his infant tub because he was too big and practically falling out of it every time, so he is in the ring that sits up. I can't even believe it. You will NEVER, EVER see this boy without a smile on his face. He is the happiest, most joyful little boy I've ever known. He sure brings hope and healing to this momma's heart. He knows just when to flash that smile too. He loves to be tickled and loves to laugh. It's the sweetest laugh! He loves to play kissy face too. He will grab my face with both his hands and pull his face in and start sucking on my lips, my chin, anything he can get in his mouth and rub his face back and forth quickly. It's the best. THE.BEST.
He has 2 teeth, both bottom ones. His toothy grin is just the most adorable thing ever.
He still has so many issues with reflux and digestion and allergies. I lay hands on him and pray over him every night. I command healing from the God of all healing. Right now though, he still has these issues. His skin is a hot mess. Just all red, blotchy, rashy looking. The meds don't seem to work. He's on neocate and will be for at least another 6 months. He is down to maybe 3/4 capful miralax a day, and I rarely have to give him suppositories anymore. That is HUGE! He is a walking pharmacy though! He takes Rantitidine, Omniprozole, Gaviscon, Miralax, sometimes Mylicon drops, some ointment for his skin (can't think of the name), and his formula is from the pharmacy as well (they don't sell in stores). Can't wait for the day that my counter is not full of his daily regimen of "getting through the day" meds. We've tried numerous different meds, tried taking him off some of the meds, and unfortunately, for now, this is what works.
Despite it all, he's such a lover. He is so happy, and I'm over the moon for this boy.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Hope
Linking up with Hope Mommies, and sharing the story of my beautiful children that are no longer on this earth.
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| Anthony Thomas Jr |
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| Nathan Richard |
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| Malia Elizabeth |
On April 11, 2011, my husband's birthday, we had a successful IUI. We didn't know it yet. It was a long 2 weeks of waiting, and on Easter of that year, we found out, we were indeed pregnant again! We were so excited. It took 5 months of unsuccessful IUI's, but we were finally pregnant. On May 16th we found out in our first ultrasound, at 7 weeks pregnant we were pregnant with sextuplets! One of them didn't have a heartbeat anymore though, and so we were told to expect quintuplets. We were told 2 of them looked big and strong, and 3 of them looked weak. I was in shock. Complete shock. I had no words, just sobbing. Tears of joy, tears of fear, tears of unknown. Tears mourning that one baby we never even knew we had. We went back for our 8 week ultrasound and found that we had lost another of our babies, and we were only pregnant with quads. Our dr said that most likely we were going to end up with just twins. We prayed against that. Every heartbeat was our child. Every heartbeat was a bond we had instantly. We returned at our 9 week and found we were only pregnant with triplets, but all 3 were strong, healthy, big. We had lost another one, yet were excited we still were pregnant with 3 healthy babies. I was beginning to feel like every time we would go we would hear bad news. Week 10 we returned and were still pregnant with healthy, strong triplets. We "graduated" and went on to our high risk OB. We had our ultrasound with him at 12 weeks and were so scared we would end up having lost one or more of our babies, and to our surprise, and joy, we were pregnant with triplets still. They all looked great, were given labels of "A", "B", and "C" in order that they would be delivered naturally. We started plans for the nursery, buying items, figuring our what room they would be in as our daughter had the biggest bedroom in the house, but we didn't want to upset her life too much as things would be so different as it was with triplet siblings. We decided we would make the smaller room work for the triplets. Week 14 came. I was home alone with my daughter and my husband was working nights. I went up to her room after she had woke up crying. I went to lift her out of bed and I felt a rush of wetness go down my leg and all over the rug. I thought I had peed myself, though I didn't have the urge to pee. I called the dr the next morning after I started getting scared, and went in. They did the litmus test and it was negative. They told me 3 babies on my bladder will make me pee without actually having the urge to. It was common in multiple pregnancies, especially with 3 or more. I left smiling, relieved. I had my regular appointment later in that week and was excited to see the babies again on ultrasound. I wish I had asked for an ultrasound that day. Little did I know. When I returned later that week, the ultrasound showed that baby A had very little fluid around him/her. So while the litmus test was negative (probably because it was 15 hrs after the fact), my water had indeed broke for baby A's sac. We were told we could wait and see what happened, most likely I would get an infection within a week and lose all 3 babies, or I could terminate baby A and have a healthy pregnancy with baby B and C, or my sac could refill and things would look better. I had to go on limited bed rest. I could still work, but little walking, absolutely no lifting (gut wretching as my daughter was only 13 months old, not walking yet, and completely a mommy monster!). My mother moved in with us when my husband worked nights. My husband picked up so many responsibilities. I worked, but way less hours as I was trying my hardest to be "normal" but keep my babies safe. Each week went on and though baby A's sac never refilled, I was tested and there were never any signs of infection. He/She grew each week which was a miracle in itself as with no water, there was no room for growth. The sac was squishing him/her, but he/she was a fighter. We were told most likely, if baby A made it to the end, he/she wouldn't be able to live because there would be no lung development. We prayed for a miracle. We bought 3 of everything. We firmly believed that we would be coming home with 3 babies. We knew the possibility was not that great, but we were believing that miracle was already ours. That healing was going to manifest itself on this earth for our baby. We had found out at week 15 that baby B was a girl, and baby C was a boy. We couldn't tell baby A because with no fluid, we couldn't get clear pics of him/her. We were so excited. We were going to get the best of all worlds. We were having a girl, a boy and a surprise! Week 20 came and we were more than halfway there! We were going to be inducing or scheduling a C-section for week 36/37 depending how things were going. We figured if we could get to 20 weeks, 16 more would be cake.
It was a Saturday morning. My husband was detailing a car. My mother was leaving to go watch my nephew's football game. My husband just put my daughter down for her nap, and was going to go meet a guy to pick something up a generator that was being sold from a guy on craigslist. My mom forgot her phone on our table. I was getting in the shower and after I got undressed and went to the bathroom I stood up and I felt something cold and wet on my inner thigh, I looked down and there was an umbilical cord hanging between my legs. I screamed for my husband! I wobbled to the top of the stairs, thankfully he heard me as he wasn't quite in the garage yet. He looked like he was going to pass out, and then pulled himself together, called 911, my mother, my brother in law, and tried to keep my calm. I was hyperventilating, I was screaming, I was panicking. I texted my closest friends to start storming the gates of heaven as things were starting to look bad for baby A.
I got to the hospital and found out baby A's heart had stopped. Most likely, it was the pressure on the cord as I was 1cm dilated and without the sac being there, it just slipped out. I had a very high fever. Baby A had an infection, and without having an immune system because he/she was no longer alive, that infection wasn't going anywhere. With the cord prolapsed, it was a walkway for bacteria to go right into my uterus. Where my other 2 children were innocently growing. We had to make quick decisions. We tried waiting and by that evening my temp was so high, I was more than likely going septic, the dr advised we induce. He said there is a slim possibility that my cervix will close after giving birth to baby A. We prayed that would be the case.
The rest, well it's kinda hard to retell. I will copy from a blog post a week after it happened.
Friday, August 9, 2013
August
A month I dread all year, and look forward to all year.
My heart is raw, my mind is preoccupied. I just want this month to be over with. There is so much I want to do for the triplets birthday. I still need to shop for the gifts we bring to the hospital. I still need to pay the baker for the cupcakes. I need to plan our day out for that Wednesday.
I'm pretty sure we are going to the zoo this year. I pray the weather holds up. I really would love for a cool, breezy day. I would really love for my children to have slept the night before so we can enjoy the day, and I would really, really love for the zoo to be semi empty as I'm pretty sure my emotions are unpredictable and I will find myself crying at the most random things.
I feel like God is about to do something in my heart. Not sure what that is, but He's sure been working on things inside for a while now. I've been so incredibly sad lately. Almost depressed. Who has time to be depressed!? I sure don't. I try to hide from it, run from it, keep myself extra busy, but I'm burning out fast. I will have moments, like driving alone, or sitting in my backyard while my children are playing, that I have this overwhelming peace. Like I can sit back and enjoy this part of life. It's quickly fleeting though. Whether guilt is chasing it away, grief is scaring it away, or satan is stealing it away, or a combination of all three.....it's quickly fleeting. I do recognize those moments though.
That's why I believe the Lord is doing a work in me. He's mending my heart, but I'm quite sure that my heart is fighting back. With a little help from the creator of lies. I am in a different place than I was last year, and the year before, and definitely the year before that. As each August approaches, I feel like I'm suffocating. I feel like the world is closing in on me, but at the same time I feel hope. I feel like I have an opportunity to share what a great God He is. I find it hard to share sometimes because I slack off diving into the Word. I let anger and bitterness take root, and then the suffocating begins.
My first response is to retreat. To run. To hide. But I can't. I have children who need me, I have a job, a husband, responsibilities. I cling to the moments of peace I feel. I try to find them, search for them. It's like I'm in a dark room and lights come on quickly, and I can get a glimpse of the doorway out, but then the lights quickly go out again. I feel around the walls, I take small, cautious steps toward where I think I remember the door being. Panic sets in as I can't find that door. Reality slips away and I feel trapped, then the lights flash on again quickly. Hope is restored. Even if for a moment. I'm reminded I'm not here to find my way alone. I'm not without guidance and Light. Those moments of light will become longer, I pray. The times of panic will lessen, and I'll find my way out. This room is called Grief. And it's a large room, with tall walls, a narrow doorway, little light, and not enough oxygen. There's room for growth, but only when you grasp it. There's ways out, but only if you work hard at finding them.
"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." Isaiah 43:1-2
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Here's Where I Challenge Myself
I really love journaling. I really love to have something to look back on and see where I have come from, or what happened when. I love documenting my children's lives. However, I am terrible at it. I find that I have less and less time just when I think I will have more. There is so much that goes on each month that I just don't even know where to start when I wait so long. I may just have to do a bunch of separate updates at one point, one for the children, one for my spiritual journey, one for my grief journey. Maybe I'll set aside time 3 times a week and do that. Ah, who am I kidding!?
I'll do a quick recap and starting in August, I'll try a new "schedule" for blogging.
I'll start with Claire:
She's become quite the little spitfire. She is hilarious, and knows it. She will do funny stuff on purpose so we laugh at her, and she laughs so hard. I love her heart and her sense of humor. She says the funniest things, most of which I put on facebook to document. She has taken to calling me "heather" when I'm distracted and not answering her "mommy mommy mommy" calls. The girl could swing ALL.DAY.LONG! Seriously. She can't get enough. My husband built a swing set for her in the backyard and she will no longer play in the pool, sandbox, or with her balls. She insists on dressing and undressing herself without help. She even puts her shoes on by herself. I'm not ready for how big she's getting. Not ready at all. I really love this stage, though she's addicted to her doting parents, and the whole "play by yourself" concept is not really there. It's our fault. We are constantly entertaining her, playing with her, engaging her....but a moment to sit down would be nice. I do have to admit. Maybe in a few years. But then again, I will cry if there's ever a day she doesn't want her mommy or daddy to play with her anymore. She's a complete mommy monster right now. I can't go to work without a crying "mommy, you can't go! I miss you!" guilt trip. I can't go to the bathroom without her trailing behind, or forget about me running out by myself for a quick trip to the grocery store. She's my sidekick....and pretty much 99% of the time, I love it. I wouldn't mind her allowing daddy to do a few things though. I am tiring out quickly from being stretched so thin. She got her first ever Hand Foot and Mouth disease encounter. It was AWFUL! She had a 104 fever, didn't eat for 4 days, lost 3 lbs. My skinny minny is even skinnier now! I'm trying to fatten her up. Shouldn't be hard with her sweet tooth, but apparently food goes in and since she never sits still, burns right out. Did I mention she never sits still. Yeah. I'm tired. She has started sleeping til 7am most mornings. How nice of her. Ugh. My day starts so early. Seriously considering throwing a bunch of food on the kitchen table and telling her to help herself in the morning so I can stay in bed. No? Oh right. The babe. He's up by then too. Oh mommyhood.
She wears a 4T or 5T depending on what it is. She literally can still fit in 24 month shorts. She has no butt. She's 38 1/4" and 30lbs. She just turned 3, but you would think she's going on 5. She will tell you she is anyways.
Now onto Dominic:
Oye! This boy has stolen my heart, and I know we'll never be the same again. He has had a rough start to this thing called "life". He can't poop on his own. If I don't do miralax, even one day, I pay for the next few days. Suppositories are a permanent item on the grocery list lately. Usually at least every 2 days, if not more often. He still eats only 4 oz every 2 hours. He won't eat more, and dare you stretch him out past the 2 hr mark....his scream is ear piercing. He will eat 5 oz before he goes to bed at 7pm, and I'll sneak another 5 oz in at 10pm in hopes that one day that will make him last through the night. So far, he's not. He's up around 1am and eats 5oz and then around 5am and eats another 5 oz. He will then only sleep if mommy snuggles him, and is usually up and ready to play by 7am. He eats about 3oz and eats cereal and pears. Then is down for a nap around 9 with a bottle where he will sleep about an hour. He's down around noon where he sleeps anywhere from an hour to 2 hours. He takes his last nap around 4 where he usually only sleeps around 45 min to an hour. His bath is at 6:30pm, and he's down for the count at 7. He's a growing boy. He just got his first tooth, and the second one is just about ready to poke through. Should be here by the weekend. He rolls over from back to front once in a while. He has no real desire to though. He rolled from front to back for the first time today! I missed it though. I was in the shower. My mother and daughter got to see it and Claire told me all about it, with exact pointing to where he rolled from and to. She's hilarious. She's her mother's daughter all right! Dominic is a mommy monster as well. No one can put him to bed if mommy is home, and if mommy isn't home, he doesn't sleep long. I always come home to a screaming baby and the second I get him, he lays his head on my shoulder, nuzzles his smooshy face into my neck and goes to sleep. Punk. Have I mentioned I'm exhausted from being the only one? We've tried "forcing" daddy, and it's not worth it. I don't need the lectures of "you'll regret it" either. If you know me at all, I won't regret it. I may be tired now, but I know there will be a day, and it could be all too soon, that this won't be the case anymore. I want to cherish every moment. Every exhausting, tiring, emotionally pulling moment. He is always smiling. He had his first illness. Pneumonia. Sucks. Poor guy couldn't breath. It was so scary. We got through it, and I'm thankful he bounced back so well. He loves talking and kissing and laughing. He's my little thrill seeker. He loves to be thrown up in the air, or feel like he is falling. He giggles so hard. It's the best sound. He brings such joy to my heart.
He is wearing mostly 9 month clothing. He can fit in some 6 month stuff. He's in size 3 diapers. He's 26+ inches long now and last weighed at 18lbs, but I'm almost sure he's closer to 20 now. He JUST turned 5 months old. Can we say giant?
Can we skip the rest? No? Challenge yourself heather. Push....
Spiritually, I'm doing well. I am hungry for God's word. For practical ways to live out His word. I have recently been following a blog that challenges me in my walk daily. Most recently about how we need to be still. We are so used to getting our answers to our questions immediately from Google, or having Facebook right at our fingertips and therefore never truly being alone. We expect to pray and the answer be right there. For me especially. I want immediate answers to my prayers. I cry out in desperation and can get immediate attention from Facebook, or Google...but not God......or so I had begun to think. I need to step away and take more time for the Holy Spirit to nurture my soul. I've also taken on the attitude that my children are my ministry. Instead of being frustrated from the crying, being up all night, the whining, the mommy monsterness....I look at it like they are my ministry. I need to nurture them, reach out, calm them. They are my reason to keep going right now. I'm working on that one still at some points, but I'm really trying. They are only little once. And any moment it could all be gone. You can call it morbid or whatever, but I don't care. I want to live each day, each moment with my children, like it could be their last. It could be our last snuggle, our last sneak in of a snack, our last staying up just a bit longer....I want to make memories, and I want to look back and have no regrets. It may be tough right now, but it won't be tough forever. I'm willing to stretch myself now so that I know I did all I possibly could for them while they needed it most. I don't want to take the easy road, the relaxing road. I want to take the play so hard I wanna crash, snuggle so much I need a few showers, and sleep when I have a chance road.
As for my grief journey...that WILL have to wait. It's been tough since Dominic's been born, And these upcoming weeks are going to be even tougher. We've already started the planning for the triplet's birthday, but my heart aches. It is literally torn between two places and I just don't see it getting easier. I miss my children so much my heart aches most of every day. Like a physical ache. My head is swimming with trying to stay in touch with reality while daydreaming about what life on earth with 5 children would be like. My tears come so easy, and so I must wait to write more.
I'll leave you with a few photos of my loves.
