Tag Archives: boys

I miss you

Before you read this, please understand that this isn’t going to be like any of my other posts.  Its not something I write with a light heart.  Its something I need to get off my chest.

Today marks a day that will forever be burned into my brain.  2 years ago I gave birth to an amazing little boy.  From the amnio that we’d had done, we know he was perfect.  From every ultrasound we’d had, he kicked and squirmed like he was determined to be a soccer player or something.  He was, by all accounts, going to be perfect- a handful, no doubt (hey, he had 2 older brothers to imitate)- but absolutely perfect.

On July 8th, 2009, I went in for my check up.  I was 19 weeks along.  I had my boys with me.  At first he couldn’t find the heartbeat with the doppler.  He didn’t act worried- he went and got the ultrasound machine, claiming that our baby was probably just lying in a weird way.  My doctor asked my boys if they wanted to see their little brother.

I knew something was wrong.  My little squirmer wasn’t moving. 

My doctor still tried to assure me that things might be ok.  He sent me down for a better ultrasound.  I knew my boy was gone.  They told me that, from the looks of it, he stopped growing at 15 weeks along, so that’s when he most likely passed.  It will always be a question in my mind if the amnio I’d opted for had been the cause- the 2 instances coincided so closely together.

After a lot of issues with insurance and what not, we ended up having to deliver my baby instead of getting the “easier” D&E.  Christopher Scott was born at 12:10 a.m. on July 10th. 

In a way, it was a good thing we had to deliver him.  I ended up getting an infection that they had to treat with antibiotics.  If we’d gone to PP to get the other procedure done, who knows what could have happened to me.  It was too hard to want to hold him after he was born- I couldn’t even look- but they gave me a box with some things in it, including a picture.  I’ve yet to look at it, but its there.

Now that its been a couple of years, I’m doing better.  Its still hard- like when I look at Nicholas and wonder what Christopher would have been like- but I’m not a mess.

There are some things I learned after losing him that you don’t fully grasp unless you’re in that situation- things like, don’t call someone who has just lost someone they love unless you can keep it together.  The last thing they should have to do during that time is help YOU with YOUR grief.

Also, I will NEVER say “I understand” or “Everything happens for a reason”.  You never actually CAN understand since every situation is different and -even if you can give the exact reason why God allowed it to happen- no one cares when they’re going through that.  I’ve learned that the best thing a person can say is “I’m here”- and then hold on for the ride, because its an emotional roller coaster.

I asked a friend the other day (who had gone through a similar situation) when I would ever feel completely normal, and she made a good point- this IS now my “normal”.  Some days I’ll feel great.  Some days I won’t.  Some days I won’t think about him at all- and that’s ok.  Some days I’ll remember that I haven’t thought about him and I’ll feel guilty- and that’s ok, too.

I also realized that there is NO timeline for grief.  Everyone says that, but what people say and what they expect are 2 different things.  Its one thing to say you feel down or upset about losing him a month or 2 after it happens, but after a while, most people patiently (and some not so patiently) listen to you, all the while wearing a “you’re not over it yet?” look on their faces and once you’re finished, they ask if you’ve talked to someone yet.

Well, duh- YOU are someone.

Not once did I say I’m DEPRESSED or SUICIDAL.  I just said I’m feeling “DOWN” or “OFF”.  I didn’t ask for answers or for you to even open your mouth.  I needed to talk.  To open up.  If people need someone to vent to about their crappy bosses and horrible traffic they encountered on the way home, shouldn’t I get to vent about losing my baby?  Not once would I ever listen to someone say,”Argh!  My husband is SO annoying!  He pissed me off SO bad!  He REALLY hurt my feelings!” and then come back at them with,”Have you talked to someone about how you feel?”  Tomorrow, your boss might give you a deserved raise; traffic will clear up, and your husband might apologize.  I won’t see my baby until I get to Heaven.

I understand there’s a reason for everything, or, more accurately,”Romans 8:28 (King James Version)
“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, and are the called according to his purpose.”  I look at Nicholas everyday and think about the fact that -if we’d had Christopher- Nicholas wouldn’t be here.  And then the guilt comes.  I think about what the world lost when Christopher died and what the world gained when Nicholas was born.  I know God has a plan for all that has happened, and its not my job to “figure it out” but to watch it unfold.  Its not always easy to remember that- and its NOT something I wanted to hear right after we lost him- but I get that.

In the mean time, today marks a sad and special day.  It was the day I officially said,”See you later” to my baby and the day that my baby got to get his first hug from God.  Sometimes I remind myself when Camo doesn’t check in on time or when Jacob rides his scooter too far out of my line of sight, I ALWAYS know where my Christopher is- he’s in the safest arms of anyone I’ve ever known.

And I’m sure he’s running around, causing everyone in Heaven to laugh, and talking their ear off.  He IS, after all, my son.

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Well, hello, Miss Know-it-all

I’ve come to the conclusion that- after 11 years and 3 kids- I know absolutely NOTHING about parenting.

I console myself about this sad, pathetic little fact with the knowledge- yes, KNOWLEDGE, as in, I KNOW- that no one else really knows anything either.

Sure, some people will have claimed to finally have “figured it out”- that they cracked the code at last on how to deal with Baby Betsy or Little Johnny in any given situation, but- well, lean in close, will ya?

Closer.

That’s close enough-

Kids are smarter. They know how to change up their game! They’re continually holding onto that wild card with their grubby little hands. They hide their Ace so far up their sleeve that you couldn’t find it even if you shook out their shirt; and then, they’ll pull it out when you’re at your wits end- when your spirit has been crushed and your will has been broken- as a final nail in the coffin of your parental control.

What it comes down to is that kids ALWAYS have a game plan and its this: practice multiple plays, never use the same play twice, show no mercy and always wear your game face.

Maybe the old bribery trick worked last time. You were able to get through the shopping trip with no issues and all you spent (besides money for groceries) was the cost of a Snickers. You might be patting yourself on the back- $1 is well worth your sanity.

Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Next time, Little Johnny will have you screaming,”Fine! You can have the remote control car! I’ll even throw in rechargeable batteries! Just PLEASE stop whining for ONE minute!”

Maybe blackmail is more your thing. Its an admirable route, to be sure:”Be good or no sweets after dinner.” The problem is, you can only use that threat once. After that you have to get creative, and if kids know one thing, its that if they exasperate you enough, you’ll break down and start bribing them instead.(see above)

Or, maybe you’re the more MATURE parent. You’re reading this and you’re thinking,”I just put my foot down. No means no. My way or the highway. No ands, if or buts.” To that, I stand in awe of your parental utopia…

Also known as ‘Never, Never(gonna happen)Land’.

Nope. Just when you think you have it all figured out…

…you have kids.

Then you realize,”I know nothing.”

Take 3

When I was in high school, I had a specific view of what my life would look like:  somehow I would be both a stay at home mom and yet have a very successful career in some chosen profession (it all depended on how I felt that particular day); I’d be married to the man of my dreams; we’d have a little white house with a little white picket fence; there would be a big oak tree in the yard and on it would be a tire swing; sitting on the front porch would be our lazy family dog; and playing out in the back yard were our 2 kids- a boy (oldest) and girl.  Sometimes there would be a third child in this dream, but its gender never really mattered.

I’ve now been out of high school for 12 years, and my reality is just a tad different from my dream.

I went to college to get my “very successful career”, but after graduating, I realized it wasn’t quite the field for me.  I also realized that I was pregnant and my boyfriend and I weren’t married.  After running up some credit card bills, our credit took a nosedive, so the possibility of getting the “little white house with the little white picket fence” wasn’t in the cards, and there aren’t many apartment complexes with big oak trees right out your front door, so there went that picture, along with the tire swing; and since most apartment complexes either don’t allow pets or else they’re too small for them, we ended up with a lazy cat instead.  And the kids?  I now have 3 boys- all male.

In fact, the only part of my dream that came true was marrying the man of my dreams.  I know- its a mushy statement.  Well, I’m a girl- I’m allowed to be mushy.  Heck, in a household full of males (our cat is a boy- even our fishes have boy names!), its my God given right- no RESPONSIBILITY- to be as girly as possible.

You’d think that I’d be disappointed that not all of my dreams came true, but God never promised me that life would be like Disneyland- where all your dreams come true.  And, honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well- right now.  Ask me if I would toward the end of the day when I’m watching the clock, waiting for the boys’ bedtime,  and wishing I could have a glass of wine.

So, why ‘Take 3’?  Well, for an obvious reason- my youngest was born on Dec. 30th.  3rd child.  3rd. boy.  3rd chance to get the ‘Mommy of the Year’ award…  You’d think that wouldn’t be so hard, but apparently they have really high standards for the definition of ‘Mommy of the Year’.  I’ve heard they frown on some of the things I do as a mom, but I’m still crossing my fingers.

This is also my 3rd chance to get back the body I had in high school.  Of course, there’s the very real possibility that the only way that’ll happen is through extensive plastic surgery, but I always was a sucker for lost causes.  I think, though, that if I put it out there into the ether that I’m on a mission to shed the “baby weight”, that maybe I’ll become a MILTSDAHCW (‘Mom I’d Like To Sit Down And Have Coffee With’- what?  You’ve never heard of that one?) by Christmas.  We’ll see.