a story of loss

I wasn't sure how to start this post.

Does the story start when we found out we were pregnant eight days post conception? Does it start the day we didn't hear the heartbeat? Or is it when my little baby was surgically removed from the womb?

It's a story with no beginning and certainly no end. In the gap there were 64 days of prenatal vitamins. A dozen positive pregnancy tests. Morning sickness. Lots of apples and ginger candy. Half cups of coffee. Preparation for a fun pregnancy announcement along with some actual announcements. Prayers of safety and healing.

Images of a baby. A baby without a heartbeat. Tears of despair. The telling and the untelling. Shock. Hope. Pain. Fear. Soul-swallowing grief.

3/11 - Today the cashier at the grocery store asked if I was having a good day. All I wanted to do was scream. "NO! My baby is dead inside of me. I am not anywhere near OK." Instead I said I was fine and swiped my credit card. The bag boy packaged my groceries as if the world was just continuing to go on. I got into my car and sobbed with my whole body.

It's a chapter in many women's stories. But I never thought I'd get my name picked. That happened to other people. Until I became one of the 25 percent. Who feel the grief no one else seems to understand. Who have the joy of pregnancy ripped away. Who look at family pictures years later and always look for that missing face. Who wonder about a life that could have been.

3/11 - Henry pointed to my belly and said baby today. Crying, I told him yes, the baby was still there. Because it is. That's his brother or sister in there. We just may not get to meet this side of heaven.

I know it's not my fault. They say it was the baby. It just wasn't knit together in the ways that allowed it to live on earth. Instead, it will go to live with a God that can love it even more than its own mother.

3/12 - People at work keep asking if I feel better. They think I was just sick. I say I am OK. I am not OK. I feel like I weigh 600 pounds and there is a bowling ball in  my chest. I have to remind myself to breathe. But I still have to smile in the hallway and do work like it matters.

We waited a week from the initial ultrasound. There were prayers for a miracle. For some sort of mistake. The longest, worst week of my life. With a husband who was out of town. And morning sickness, exhaustion and all the signs of a healthy pregnancy.

3/14 - Today is the day we get confirmation. I feel nothing. We walked to our appointment. Through the busy Plaza of Big 12 tournament fans and shoppers. They smiled as they passed. They had no idea the destination we were walking to. The things we were about to be told. The way our world is being shaken as they bought new lipstick.

We got the confirmation. Not of a miracle but of a baby without a beating heart. With a sac that measured where it should be and a baby measuring less than it did a week before. And my body that was showing no signs of letting it go.

3/15 - We went to the zoo today. God didn't give me my baby but he did give me an 80-degree day. It felt calming to eat ice cream, look at polar bears swimming in circles, feel the sun on my skin, watch Henry's face light up. His world is so innocent. He doesn't notice all the pregnant moms with alive babies in their bellies. He doesn't immediately think of the ultrasound picture of his baby brother or sister. The baby that's still there. Sucking the oxygen out of every room.

On Monday, that baby left my body, the place that's supposed to be safest. Our baby left in a way I care not to think about and thanks to anesthesia I will never remember.

3/18 - I had to sign a paper releasing the remains of my baby to the hospital. Incineration they called it. The little body, which had fingers and toes, out with the other "medical waste."  

The medical appointments are done. Physically I feel unpregnant. I had 48 hours where my body still miscarried the rest of the tissue and blood. Rhythmic contractions, two minutes apart. Pain that left my knuckles white while gripping the steering wheel.

But now, there is little to remind me any of this even happened. Like maybe the last three weeks were just a fog.

Instead, nothingness. With no clear next step. Except attending class. Going to the store. Giving Henry a bath. Making dinner. Smiling at church. Vacuuming up cat hair. Doing laundry.

Like it all never happened.

that's a lot of zeros

This is my go to FREEEDOM picture. Circa 2009.

I will never be one of those crazies on the Dave Ramsey radio show who call in for the sole purpose of screaming at the top of their lungs about paying off debt. But, I am constantly amazed how sticking to a budget and debt payoff plan works.

In April, we paid off our second mortgage. We'd already been living without my entire paycheck so we decided to keep on living without it. Surprise, surprise it paid off.

Today we'll pay off the hubs' $28,000 student loan, something we accomplished in 10 months. And for kicks, we paid off another $7,000 student loan by pulling from our savings.

Add the $28,000 second mortgage, a $8,500 car loan and a $2,000 credit card (I made $25K after college. A girl has to eat.) paid off since 2010.

That's a lot of money, yo.

But all that allows me to work part time without having to contract for other jobs and actually spend time building trains and swinging at the park. It means we can refinance the condo to lock in a low interest rate and pay that sucker off in 15 years. Or sell it before then, which is now my candle-blowing-out wish.

We can start funding Shea's retirement and save for a house.

Plus, I finally got my MacBook. So I think it's all worth it.

reducing chaos

Happiness.

 
The last six weeks have been all about reducing chaos in this house, which also meant using the time before grad classes started again to accomplish the chaos reduction rather than blogging, Facebooking and all sorts of time wasting fun.

So if you recall, one of the Happiness Project rules I adopted was no one else should have to participate in my project and I would only focus on the things that I could actually control. The first project was getting rid of those things that had the ability to turn a good day bad.

First I unsubscribed from email lists. Opening my email inbox every morning to 40 emails of sales, deals and quotes for my day sucked up time and added annoyance. Especially when I never actually take advantage of the sales.

Next I moved stuff in the house where it made sense. We had Henry's bibs stored in his dresser on the other side of the house from the dining room. Now they are in our hutch steps away from his highchair.  I reorganized the kitchen with the same idea in mind, moving the double boiler I only use at Christmas time to a high shelf and cleared a place next to our plates for Henry's rather than stacking the on top of each other and having to move the whole tower each time.

I got rid of excess clothes taking a car load to Goodwill, threw away the old toiletries that had expired and recycled old magazines. Our Tupperware situation was dire and I had been wanting to switch away from plastic anyway, so we spent the money to get nice glass and stainless steel containers.

I bought Rubbermaid totes to replace our cardboard boxes for Christmas decorations. I got a new phone charger so I was no longer propping the cord up with books so it'd be at the right angle to actually charge. Serious happiness roadblock.

It's all the things I wanted to do but never actually got on the list. It's definitely taught me to take the extra five minutes to think more logically through my organization and be comfortable with spending money when it makes the small things easier.

When the small things are easier, the big things seem to feel less big.

finding more happiness

Photo via Flickr Creative Commons, user: tanaise

It's not that I am not happy. I am. But I could be happier.

There are things I let into my life that chip away at the happy I could be. Whether it's little things like when I want Tupperware I have to dig for 10 minutes looking for the corresponding lid or big things like a a bad attitude about my traveling husband, they affect me.

Over the holidays, I read "Happier at Home" by Gretchen Rubin, the Happiness Project guru. (Random sidebar: Rubin grew up three blocks from where we live right now. See? Destiny.) She addresses everything from the decor of her home, celebrating holidays, her attitude about her husband never telling her good job and the "mean face" she gives when her kids interrupt her.  I was super inspired to start my own home happiness project because I have a mean face that I am pretty sure can rival hers.

I've divided out my happiness focus into months but reserving the right to change topics as life changes.I also had to set some ground rules, mostly adopted from Rubin's book but also a few of my own.

The Rules
1. My happiness tasks cannot rely on anyone else but me.
I'd be happier if the hubs cleaned the litter pans twice a week, but I can't really control the success of that task so it's not on the list.

2. The tasks should not turn into a really long to-do list that makes me stressed.
It has to contribute to long-term happiness, not the short-term happiness of having my floors clean. Getting rid of our flea infestation would definitely make me happier for the rest of my life so it counts.

3.  I will give myself grace.
If I vow to not give the mean face, and I do - I'll try harder tomorrow. The happiness project should not send me to a therapist for a guilt complex.

First up in January: Reducing the Chaos!

Oh, hello there

In an effort to be more in the moment, I've neglected this blog, my cell phone charger (leading to much scolding from my husband and mother) and washing my floors.

The last month has thrown me for a loop.

I've battled my stress fracture with happy avoidance leading to unhappy pain. My new year resolutions won't include running a marathon this month, but just figuring out a way to use my crutches so my darned foot will heal. 

I've been haunted, as most of us are, by the events in Newtown. I've been fearful, deeply saddened and motivated to not take my days with H for granted.

I read Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin and have resolved to spend some time at a coffee shop this month mapping out my own happiness project. I'm really motivated about her simple approach.

In fact, I really need to spend more time writing at coffee shops.

I'll be back. But first, there is a little boy who has never played in the snow waiting for me.

shut down

A week and a half ago, I ran 18 miles. The farthest I have ever run and only six weeks, just two long training runs short of the marathon.

My foot started hurting but a short one without much pain. It was sore and a little stabby but three and a half hours of running would do that to a foot.

But then it kept getting worse to the point I was having trouble falling asleep because the pain was so intense.  - before the Vicodin that is. A visit to the doctor got me an order for an MRI to detect either soft tissue injury or a stress fracture. But, turns out the MRI would cost us at least $700, which most likely the same result - me not running. A stress fracture means no running and soft tissue means only run if it doesn't hurt. And people, it hurts.

I decided to forgo the expensive test and face the facts there will be no Jan. 20 marathon. The doctor has given me four days to soak my foot in a ice bucket five times a day. If no improvement, this foot is in a cast come Monday.

It is way more defeating than I expected. Once the decision was made, the tears flowed. The thought of starting this journey all over again makes me feel angry. The cold early mornings, the weekend afternoons sacrificed to shoes and pavement, all to be done over again.

I'm positive there is a marathon finish line in my future. Just not this one.

Sulk.

halfway through and a half

This weekend I ran the North Face Endurance Challenge Half Marathon in Kansas City. The North Face race series features mostly trail races but added the road challenge in KC last year. They tried it out in August last year and probably discovered that asking people to be outside, let alone run outside, in August was a huge mistake.

So this year, the November date meant temperatures of 39 degrees at the start, which is a completely ambiguous temperature for running clothes. I started my morning with a slice of peanut butter toast and half a banana. And of course, coffee.

We stood in line for the potty as our wave wasn't supposed to start til 7:16 a.m. Race organizers decided to start everyone at once though and by the time we got to the starting line, the half marathon was gone. Sigh.

The course was SUPER hilly. Kansas City races are notorious hilly but this was a combo of the worst. My stomach felt great and it wasn't til the last mile that my hips were burning. The IT band held up just fine.

Seriously fun though. The last half I ran, I did alone. This one I got to talk to my friend Wendy the entire way. Much more tolerable. Also didn't hurt to have my parents, the hubs and of course the cutest fan ever to cheer me on.

I have no idea fast  slow I finished because the chip time shows everyone starting at the same time. Which we know isn't true. Everyone also complained the course was a half mile too long. Luckily this was for race experience and not the end goal.

The half also marks the second half of my full marathon training. To be honest, I am tired. And slightly bored. The mid-week runs are up to 4-8-4 and my next long run is a 17-miler on Sunday. It takes so much time and energy that it's making me cranky. But the thought of starting all over again, is a much less appealing option.

So I'll keep on plugging away. Eight miles tomorrow, 17 on Sunday. Bring it on.