19 Years

Today is my 19th anniversary.  I cannot even believe I've been married for so long; it's half my life!  HALF. MY. LIFE.
Egads.

He's not even home.  He was home for Missy's birthday, so he couldn't be home for this.  That's ok.  I needed the sleep.  I NEVER sleep well when he's home.  He snores really loud, plus he talks in his sleep.  And he falls asleep watching TV which keeps me up when I'm trying to sleep.  Then of course I have to get up to work in the morning, and he sleeps until noon...and then wonders why I'm a grouch.  So while I love you so much, honey....thanks for leaving so I could get some sleep!

I have been thinking so much about the baby who should be here right now.  I was due last week.  To think, I should have a newborn baby muffin right now.  I miss her tons.  My friend Ginger and I both lost babies last year, and we like to think that our girls are having a tea party in Heaven with Jesus.  It brings both of us so much comfort.

Ho-Hum.

I wore one of my favorite dresses today, because I was feeling ho hum about it all.

Avenue dress, purchased in 2011 (? maybe 2012).  Also wearing an Avenue cardi and my nude Target flats. 

I wear this when I'm feeling blech.  Ho-hum.  Bored. 

Very cute.  Magic dress saves the day!

Nothing much to report here.  Just been kind of sad lately, because I should be about 8 months pregnant right now.  Obviously, I've had no luck getting pregnant again.  I just wonder what the Lord has for me.  I'm really ok either way it will go, but not knowing just bothers me.  Praying that I am right now, but I won't know for another week and I don't feel particularly pregnant.  Sigh...the waiting game is a hard game to play.

When Living in a Private World Backfires on You

Despite the fact that I blog, I live a very private, quiet existance.  I work from home.  I do not party.  I stay in this house pretty much six days a week and go to church on Sunday, then come right home.  I know my life would bore many to tears, but I promise that I'm quite happy.  For a long time, I used to think I had tinges of agoraphobia! 

What is agoraphobia?

fear of open spaces: a condition characterized by an irrational fear of public or open spaces



Well, I don't fear open spaces.  In fact, I love the beach, wide open fields of flowers, the ocean, lakes, forests.  So I guess it doesn't apply to me. 

I also don't mind being in public.  Or speaking in public, now that I'm thinking about it. 

I guess I'm just private.

Private is not always a bad thing, peeps.  If anyone has watched any TV lately, you'll notice reality shows are decidedly NOT PRIVATE.  Anything goes!  How you're feeling, your money situation, your relationship with husband, kids, family, co-workers...UGH.  I can't even watch.  I feel like I'm reading someone's diary when I see some of these shows!  Not everything needs to be aired in public.

When I lost my baby, I should have told more people.  Because it would have helped me to avoid the junk I am going through now.  For the second time in a week, a co-worker (remember, they can't see me...I work from home!) asked me how the baby was doing, if I was feeling any kicks, if I knew what the sex was, and if I had names picked out.

The first time, I cried.

I'd be third trimester right now.  I'd assuredly know the sex (I always felt my Fergus was a girl but I'll never know) and have the names picked out and probably my registry completed.  I'd have completed the preregistration paperwork for the hospital, and be wearing maternity clothes. 

This second time, I calmly explained to my coworker, who is a male and his wife is expecting a baby in September, what happened.  He was horrified that he didn't know and kept profusely apologizing.  No need, John.  No need to apologize.  You didn't know.  "I wish I had known!"  he exclaimed.  "I don't know what I could have done, but at least I wouldn't have hurt your feelings today!"

I shared the news of my pregnancy early, with great joy and happiness.  Sometimes, I wish I had done the same with the death of Fergus.  She deserved that.  She didn't deserve to be swept under the proverbial rug.  She was as important in death as she was in life.  Fergus, I didn't mean to pretend you didn't exist; you most assuredly were alive in my womb.  I saw your heartbeat on ultrasound and you made me throw up and mess up my blood sugar readings.  It's so much easier to share happiness than pain.  This time, my need for privacy kept me from the comfort of friends.  It's a difficult, blurry line; I tend to hold my feelings hostage and not share.  This time, I should have.  I should have let everyone know that my Fergus went to be with the Lord, and that I needed their love, their prayers, their comfort.

Friends are there through it all.  Or rather, they should be.  And I took away an opportunity from my friends to comfort me.  I'll try to do better.  For them AND for me.

Weary

It appears my sorrow has no end.  My miscarriage is still raw and fresh in my mind.  Last night, a dear friend passed away suddenly and unexpectedly.  He was a good, godly man who I respected, an elder in my church, who was also a husband, father and teacher.  As I cried thinking of his wife, his three children, his students, Tiger came to me to tell me that he wasn't feeling well.   The wound from his surgery has reopened; he is running a fever and I brought him back to the doctor, who tells me it is infected and we probably need surgery again.

I am overcome with grief, with sorrow, with pain.  Being a Christian doesn't protect me from hurting.  In fact, Psalm 119:28 says, "My soul is weary with sorrow; strengthen me according to your word."  Lord, I have never felt so tired in my life.  I feel like my heart is breaking every second of the day; every time I turn around, I am faced with more bad news.  A friend's mom diagnosed with breast cancer; a person losing their home; a friend of Missy's dying in his sleep, at only 19 years  old!  Epilepsy, autism, SO MUCH PAIN, and I wonder how many hits I can take.  My favorite part of the day is when I go to bed, and when I wake, I fear who is going to tell me the next bad thing.   I wonder if I could ever run out of tears, and then I think of my friend's wife who suddenly has no husband to be by her side, and I sob all over again. 

When Bucket was little and we were going through the trials of autism, people would tell me how strong I was.  And I was smug about it.  I was like, "I sure am."  And in my own head, I suppose I thought I was better than all those people who "couldn't handle a kid like that."  But the truth is, I am not strong at all.  I am so very, very weak.  I am supposed to find my strength in Him, and I do.  But honestly, I want to do things myself.  Sometimes that independent streak causes me quite a bit of strife.  But Lord, I am listening to you now, and I am trying so very hard to be dependent on You, not me.  Thank goodness you are a Daddy who lets me try again and again, because You love me so.  I keep going back to that word.  Daddy.  Just like I wanted my Daddy when Fergus left me, I still feel like a little girl who wants to curl up in the lap of her father to be comforted.  Human daddies failed me, but He never has.  He never, ever has.

Daring To Be Happy Again

I just realized that last week, I would have been second trimester.  Goodness, Fergus, I miss you like crazy.  Despite the fact that I will never get to mother you in my arms, I think about you a lot and am so glad you're with Jesus.  I did my best to keep busy this week.  I worked my 40 hours, made dinners.  Over the weekend, I even got my hair cut and colored (Missy did the color) and got my eyebrows (and lip...shhhhh!) waxed.  I went to a gluten free meeting, took Tiger to band practice, and watched the Ravens pull off an incredible win against the Broncos (I did NOT see that coming.)  I went to church today, worked with a boy with autism who was NOT cooperative with me at all, and I'm about to change into sweats and a tank to clean my filthy house.

I lost Fergus on12/31, but had started bleeding on 12/26; and I just stopped bleeding, finally.  I am tired and lethargic and know it's due to all the blood loss.  I am eating protein filled meals and getting lots of rest; I had to lock the kitties out of my room just to get some sleep.  And I think my pictures this week show that I *am* feeling better.  Physically, I am back to normal.  Mentally, I am still sad.  I don't think that's going to go away in less than a month.

Wearing JCP tank, Kiyonna top, black skirt I bought from Ross last week for $15, and my red espadrilles which I've had for at least 5 years. 

It's a beautiful day in Central Florida, around 85 degrees.  I was hot in this outfit. 

My poor, poor grass; my goodness we could use some rain.

Missy colored my hair; I forget what the color is called but I think it was "black auburn" and I do believe it's probably one of the best colors I've had.  It matches my eyebrows almost perfectly!  Oh, and that is not a weird cowlick on the side of my head, that is a rack by the door for our keys.  How funny it looks!  And my eyes look super blue.  A definite good "winter" hair color, now if only winter would arrive...

Pedi desperately needed!

Mr. R should be home by Thursday.  One of the weirdest side effects of a miscarriage?  I am...what some may call..."erotically charged."  Considering my sex drive went KAPUT during the pregnancy, I am kind of surprised at how ready I am for Mr. R to come home and take care of some business, shall I say.  And who knows?  Maybe we will be blessed again sooner than expected.  Here is something I may not have shared in the past, but my very first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage on October 15, 1994.  I had Missy on July 29, 1995.  So I very quickly conceived right after I lost a baby.  I realize I'm not 19 anymore, but perhaps that is what is in store?  I don't know.  I pray that the Lord will allow us to conceive again.  And in fact, I'd love to do it now, because that means I'd have an autumn baby, Lord willing, and not another summer one! (although, frankly, I'm kind of surprised that's 85 in January, so really I have no proof that I could have a colder weather baby.)  All I know is, I'd give up career and any accolades that come with it, in order to increase my family.  I really would.

Attempting Life

I thought of lots of stupid titles for this post.  "Orange You Glad To See Me?"  or "Back In The Saddle" but they seemed too cliche and annoying.  I got up, I got dressed, I did my hair, I wore make up, but it was all pretend.  I was going through motions today, and it showed.  But I did put one foot in front of the other, and it's a start.

I haven't taken pictures in nearly a month.  In my last pictures, I talked about how much I was looking forward to summer to see my baby.  And now...my womb is empty, but you can tell I was starting to show because I have a pooch.  I mean, I had a pooch before, don't get me wrong, but I was just getting to the point where I was needing maternity.  Sigh.

This is actually my polka dot black and white Target dress, but I topped it with a bright orange tee I bought at Ross just yesterday for $5.99.  We're supposed to wear orange for the first Sunday of the month in children's ministry, and I was the only one who did it.  Go figure.

Totally fake smile.  Did not fool one single person.

I bought real high heels, again at Ross yesterday for $20.  They hurt.  I'm definitely not used to them.  The heel itself didn't hurt, but I have wide toes and I need to stretch these out a bit.  But they looked cute; I can see why women get addicted to heels.  I felt like it helped my posture quite a bit.

I also bought new bras, but I got those at Target.  I guess a bit of retail therapy over the weekend took my mind off my sorrows.

Tomorrow, I start my new schedule at work.  As grateful as I am for my job, it occurred to me while I was out with the miscarriage that I need to spend more time on me.  I will still getting up at 6am, but I won't be starting work until 8am.  Those two hours will be for me to be in the Word more faithfully, to eat a real breakfast, and to get my exercise.  I will never know if this miscarriage happened because of anything I did, but I know that being 100 lbs overweight didn't do me any favors.  This will be a gift to myself and any future babies that may happen.  I need good health so I can grow a healthy child, if the Lord chooses to bless us again.  Yes, you heard me right.  I intend to try again, as soon as I'm done with the physical part of this miscarriage  (going on two weeks of bleeding, yuck) and Mr. R is home (he just got a run to Colorado, so it will be at least two weeks until I see him again) and if the timing is right...yes, we'll be trying again.

Until then, be prepared for my usual outfit posts, and possibly some updates on my exercise.  I'm going back to my Kettleworx again.  Hope you all have a blessed week.

My Little One Has Gone To Heaven

Jeremiah 29:11

New International Version (NIV)

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

When things don't make sense in an sad world, I lean on His Word (actually I lean on His Word all the time, but these sad times probably even more).  I don't know why my baby died.  I may never know.  I don't know His plans for me.  But I do know that "life ain't fair" which I tell my kids all the time.  Today, life was not only unfair, but incredibly cruel to me.  Our little Fergus is with Our Lord in Heaven.  I will never get to hold, rock, cradle, or nurse my little one.  I don't understand it.  But I do have the Lord to lean on.  I have said many times on here how much I despise Father's Day, yet today I wanted to run on my Daddy's lap and have him wrap my arms around me and hold me.   Today I think I understood fully why he is called Father God.  I wanted my Daddy today.  My Father God.   And as busy as the universe is, He had time to listen to my cries. 

I found this sweet picture on Pinterest, and I thought, when I heal, I will be getting a tattoo of this.  Goodbye, Fergus.  I loved you with my whole heart, and the hardest thing for a Mama to do is to let her little ones go.  I am sad; so beyond sad.  My heart is broken into a million, trillion pieces.  But I will see you again someday in Paradise.  Be a good Fergus, and don't get into as much trouble as your siblings here on earth, ok?  I love you....Always, Mama.