For This Child I Prayed

Every time I go to the doctor, they think of something else for me to worry about.  I am honestly at the point where I feel like running when they come in the room.  They have given me percentages on every syndrome and previa in the book, things I would never have even thought to be worried about.  I understand that technology saves lives, but it is about to kill one very stressed out pregnant lady I know.

But I am trying so hard to remember, it was for this child I prayed.  It was this child who was my Easter miracle.  It was this child who is my rainbow baby...who, when I got on my knees and prayed, a rainbow literally appeared in the sky for this child.

Doctors are smart people, and I am thankful to have the best in the bunch.  But they don't know everything about this child.

It was for this child I prayed...I hope you will too.

Oh Joy!

Last night as I climbed in the bed after a long day, I put my hand on my belly and had a moment of just pure joy (I guess these mood swings can go either way).  I was thinking about my day: my first prenatal yoga class, what I accomplished at work, the good friends I spoke to for the first time in weeks, the happy conversation I had with my mom on the way home, the comforting sounds of my husband and dog playing downstairs, the little jumping bean in my stomach, and that angel I feel with me wherever I go.

I also had a very vivid memory of lying in this same bed almost eight months ago: hand on an empty belly, quiet house, eyes so swollen I could hardly see, the thought of ever getting up again seeming like the hardest thing in the world...wondering if joy would ever find me again.

So it's not that I have forgotten the pain and the sadness or the fear of the unknown, it is just that I have learned that when you have those moments of pure joy you enjoy Every. Single. Minute.

I Like the Way You Move

Yep, today was the big day...I felt "her" move for the first time (and it WASN'T gas!!!).

A girl after my own heart, all it took was a cupcake roughly the size of Texas and off she went.

THIS is what it is all about!

Fear, Faith, Trust, Belief...Hope?

Sometimes I am so afraid that I can't put it into words.  It is the kind of fear that takes your breath away, almost like falling flat on your back, and it comes out of nowhere.  One minute I am fine, the next all I stand to lose and have lost hits me and bam, I'm seeing stars.

I know the only way out of that fear is through faith...faith got me through losing Rip, and it is what will get me through this pregnancy.

To have faith you have to be able to trust.  I still have problems with that one, a tendency towards the "fool me once" mentality.  I trusted once, and after everything that has happened, how can I truly believe that it is gong to be okay this time.

But I have to believe...just like I had and have to believe Rip is safe, I have to believe this baby is part of a plan.  I have to believe that someone is in charge, and it isn't me.  Even when it seems easier just to give into the fear, somehow I have to make myself believe.

Fear, Faith, Trust, Belief...how did it all get so complicated?

But somehow if I get through that cycle every day, I get a little glimpse of what I want most...Hope.

No Use Crying Over Spilled Cereal

Somewhere around 6th grade, my entire class had to memorize the poem "Attitude" by Charles Swindoll.  It goes like this:

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life.

Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home.

The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude... I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes


For some reason it really stuck with me, and every time someone I knew was going through I rough patch, I would send it to them, pointing out in particular the line " I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it".

Looking back I am sure they all wanted to give me a good slap for doing it.

Because, even though I still agree with a majority of the poem, there are some things in life that are not meant to be handled with a good attitude.  I have been more at peace since I realized that in no way shape or form should I expect myself to feel good about what happened to Rip and to us.  It is one of those life-changing traumatic events that, as long as I am still putting one foot in front of the other, I am doing the best I can.

I think the hard part is knowing how to separate those few events in life that should not be expected to be met with a smile from those every day nuisances that can seem  huge after a major loss.

For instance, this morning I was really, really looking forward to some cereal...I was all ready to take my first bite when I spilled the whole thing.  The absolute despair I felt afterwards was probably overkill.  Everyone spills cereal.  Thankfully, most of life's ups and downs, in the end, amount to a cup of spilled cereal.

So, it's still a choice.  Nobody should be expected to react to the very worst with good cheer, but there is no use crying over spilled cereal. As old Charles says, "we are in charge of our attitudes".

The Look

There is a Look...and anybody who has ever lost somebody close to them knows what I am talking about...the Look is supposed to convey sympathy but in reality just makes you feel like slapping someone.  I've heard it called the "hair too heavy on one side" look and the "wounded puppy" look...whatever you want to call it, I can see it coming from a mile away.

It starts when the somebody (usually a somebody you don't know well) spots you from across the room, parking lot, football field.  No matter the distance, no matter how hard you try to avoid eye contact, the Look will find you.  The determination of the Look is not to be underestimated.

There is a certain slackening of features, sometimes accompanied with a welling of the eyes...the head cocks to one side, maybe even slowly shaking back in forth...careful, the Looker will want to touch you, move carefully, because the Looker will grab on... and the Looker will not be happy Until.You.Cry.

Don't get me wrong, I greatly appreciate 99% of the people who stop and say such kind words about our loss, friends and strangers who somehow know just what to say...but so help me God, I will spend the rest of my life trying to dodge THE LOOK.

A Little Sursy

Growing up, whenever we had to do something really unpleasant (like going to the doctor) or really pleasant (all A's...I think it happened once, in the second grade) we got a little "sursy".  Just a little surprise to let you know someone cared.
Going to the doctor with this pregnancy is equal parts joy and fear.  Even though I am so thankful to be able to see a high risk doctor this time around, sometimes I think that their part-time job is to scare the living daylights out of you...every time we leave the office I don't know whether to laugh or cry.
To make it a little easier on us (by us, I mean the baby and myself), I decided that after every appointment we needed a little sursy.
I did not buy a single baby thing for Rip, I just didn't...I couldn't make myself.  I was determined to let that fear go this time, and let's just say I've succeeded.
With all of the doctors appointments we have had, Baby Harris # 2 has collected quite a few sursys...and as I said, I decided that we needed a little something after each appointment, so her mama isn't doing so bad herself!