The other night while we were out someone asked Parke if he was scared to have a little girl. He replied, "I'm just scared, period."
Hearing such a simple and honest response made me realize how true that is for us right now.
I am in turns thankful, grateful, hopeful, and excited. But underneath all of that is fear.
It feels like free-falling, and every once in a while there will be something for me to hold on to...a good doctor's appointment, the baby having a very active day, a message that seems sent just for me, an hour of truly believing everything is going to be okay...but nothing has been strong enough yet to keep me from falling again.
And it's okay, it's to be expected after all we have been through, but I am not scared of X,Y or Z...
I am just scared, period.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Bippity, Boppity, Boo
This has been a tough week. I think the hardest thing in the world is to know that people you love are hurting, and it's been a week with way too much of that going on.
I want more than anything to take out my magic wand and take all of the pain away...but I know that I can't...it will take (ugh.ugh.ugh.) time.
And until that time comes the best I can do is to be there when they need me, with lots of chocolate (the closest thing to fairy dust this side of Disney).
I want more than anything to take out my magic wand and take all of the pain away...but I know that I can't...it will take (ugh.ugh.ugh.) time.
And until that time comes the best I can do is to be there when they need me, with lots of chocolate (the closest thing to fairy dust this side of Disney).
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Masking it
Right after Rip died, I felt incredibly vulnerable. I had no idea how to face the world as this new me, this "Girl Who", who was completely unprepared to deal with my loss much less others reaction to my loss. I literally had no idea how to interact with the outside world, I wanted to find a way to hide myself.
So, I did the only logical thing...I got a nose ring. About a week after Rip died, my younger brother came in town with strict orders to keep an eye on me while Parke was at work. He drove me around town, I have no idea where we went or what we did, but at some point I must have mentioned that I'd always wanted a nose ring...the next thing I knew, I was leaning head down in the back room of a dark, patchouli smelling hole in the wall with a blinking piercing sign on the front door.
From my vantage point, I couldn't see the device the "piercing specialist" was using but based on my brother's gagging/giggling reaction, my guess is it looked like something that would shove a needle through your nostril. Still, I figured with the amount of pain I was already in, nothing could hurt me now. Yeah, I was reeeeaaaaaallly wrong about that part. It hurt, it hurt bad.
But it was worth it. Turns out that nose ring was exactly what I needed. It was like a little bit of armor, distracted outsiders, maybe even gave me a touch of "bad-ass". I needed to feel stronger, and for whatever reason (and much to my family's horror), having a diamond sticking out of nose gave me strength.
Unfortunately for the nose ring, Parke's choice of armor for that period in our lives was to grow a big, burly beard. Word to the wise, beards and nose rings don't mix. Every time I leaned in for a much-needed hug, I got snagged. Between that and the massive amount of crying I was doing without being able to properly blow my nose, my little diamond of strength only lasted until New Years.
But by then I was a little stronger, had a little more faith in myself when I stepped out of the front door. I was ready to take off the mask. My only regret now is that I didn't get any good pictures...
So, I did the only logical thing...I got a nose ring. About a week after Rip died, my younger brother came in town with strict orders to keep an eye on me while Parke was at work. He drove me around town, I have no idea where we went or what we did, but at some point I must have mentioned that I'd always wanted a nose ring...the next thing I knew, I was leaning head down in the back room of a dark, patchouli smelling hole in the wall with a blinking piercing sign on the front door.
From my vantage point, I couldn't see the device the "piercing specialist" was using but based on my brother's gagging/giggling reaction, my guess is it looked like something that would shove a needle through your nostril. Still, I figured with the amount of pain I was already in, nothing could hurt me now. Yeah, I was reeeeaaaaaallly wrong about that part. It hurt, it hurt bad.
But it was worth it. Turns out that nose ring was exactly what I needed. It was like a little bit of armor, distracted outsiders, maybe even gave me a touch of "bad-ass". I needed to feel stronger, and for whatever reason (and much to my family's horror), having a diamond sticking out of nose gave me strength.
Unfortunately for the nose ring, Parke's choice of armor for that period in our lives was to grow a big, burly beard. Word to the wise, beards and nose rings don't mix. Every time I leaned in for a much-needed hug, I got snagged. Between that and the massive amount of crying I was doing without being able to properly blow my nose, my little diamond of strength only lasted until New Years.
But by then I was a little stronger, had a little more faith in myself when I stepped out of the front door. I was ready to take off the mask. My only regret now is that I didn't get any good pictures...
Parke and I in our our masks...okay, you can't see mine because it was on the other side of my face, but trust me, I was cool.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Patting myself on the back
Yesterday, I cleaned the nursery. I put away little boy clothes and pulled out little girl clothes. It was something I needed to do by myself, it was a time for me to cry if I wanted to cry, think about what I wanted to think about, be excited about the things I wanted to be excited about.
Putting away Rip's things was something I have been dreading, and it was just about as emotionally draining as I imagined it would be. At the same time, it was healing...I came across some of Rip's ultrasound pictures, and he and Gracie have almost the exact same profile. I do believe that there is another little boy in our future somewhere, and I looked forward to bringing those boxes back out when that day comes. And I had time to talk to Rip. I needed that.
I also washed all of Gracie's clothes (and I do mean all...girl has a wardrobe). It was something I did not get to do for Rip, and I enjoyed it. Smelling and folding all those little pink things and putting them in their proper place was so satisfying...I think I spent at least 30 minutes just examining my handiwork Lining up little shoes, laying out pretty pink blankets, hanging up teeny dresses on teeny hangers...it was real for me then, there is a baby coming!
When I woke up this morning and peeped in the nursery, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Gracie is coming, and we are getting ready for her...but in doing so, I lost nothing of Rip. So today I am going to pat myself on the back...I did something hard and worthwhile and now I can keep moving forward.
Putting away Rip's things was something I have been dreading, and it was just about as emotionally draining as I imagined it would be. At the same time, it was healing...I came across some of Rip's ultrasound pictures, and he and Gracie have almost the exact same profile. I do believe that there is another little boy in our future somewhere, and I looked forward to bringing those boxes back out when that day comes. And I had time to talk to Rip. I needed that.
I also washed all of Gracie's clothes (and I do mean all...girl has a wardrobe). It was something I did not get to do for Rip, and I enjoyed it. Smelling and folding all those little pink things and putting them in their proper place was so satisfying...I think I spent at least 30 minutes just examining my handiwork Lining up little shoes, laying out pretty pink blankets, hanging up teeny dresses on teeny hangers...it was real for me then, there is a baby coming!
When I woke up this morning and peeped in the nursery, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Gracie is coming, and we are getting ready for her...but in doing so, I lost nothing of Rip. So today I am going to pat myself on the back...I did something hard and worthwhile and now I can keep moving forward.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Making Heads or Tails of it...
My appointment on Friday was blissfully uneventful...hooray! I actually passed my test for gestational diabetes and to be honest, I was shocked...let's just say I haven't been denying myself much these days. I guess all these years of eating dessert after every meal are paying off, sugar seems to do my body (and baby) good...or at least it doesn't hurt.
Only one interesting little tidbit came out of yesterday's visit...apparently Gracie is breech, which for the most part is no big deal as I will be having a c-section. Except...I thought she was head down. And I thought that large bulge sticking out by my belly button was her little fanny. And I may or may not have been mashing it, patting it, and pressing on it for the last few weeks. Soooo... sorry kiddo...I'm sure the dents will fill out over time and if not I have plenty of hairbows for you.
Only one interesting little tidbit came out of yesterday's visit...apparently Gracie is breech, which for the most part is no big deal as I will be having a c-section. Except...I thought she was head down. And I thought that large bulge sticking out by my belly button was her little fanny. And I may or may not have been mashing it, patting it, and pressing on it for the last few weeks. Soooo... sorry kiddo...I'm sure the dents will fill out over time and if not I have plenty of hairbows for you.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Round and Round She Goes
One year ago today I was put in the hospital on bedrest for 6 weeks. As I have said, there are equal parts disbelief and even fondness that goes with the memories of that time. In some way, I really can't believe I sat in a room for 6 weeks...I also can't believe how many friends and family came by during those 6 weeks with anything and everything to keep me entertained.
Even though I am almost thankful for that time now, any anniversary like this can be rough. My original due date with Rip was 12/19/10...and Gracie's big debut is scheduled for 12/27/11, so in a way I am reliving a lot of Rip's pregnancy. In some ways, it is so different and I am grateful for those differences. In other ways, those differences make me sad, that my pregnancy with Rip was not this "easy".
I guess I am bracing myself for the emotions that may come up between now and the end of November. I know that some of these days will be hard, maybe even harder as I move forward with this pregnancy...but I know the only thing harder than reliving these days pregnant with Grace would be living them without her.
Even though I am almost thankful for that time now, any anniversary like this can be rough. My original due date with Rip was 12/19/10...and Gracie's big debut is scheduled for 12/27/11, so in a way I am reliving a lot of Rip's pregnancy. In some ways, it is so different and I am grateful for those differences. In other ways, those differences make me sad, that my pregnancy with Rip was not this "easy".
I guess I am bracing myself for the emotions that may come up between now and the end of November. I know that some of these days will be hard, maybe even harder as I move forward with this pregnancy...but I know the only thing harder than reliving these days pregnant with Grace would be living them without her.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Looking for an Ace
For about five years of my life, starting when I was around nine, I was a horseback rider. I adored horses, begged my parents to let me have lessons. So at least once a week for those five years, I got to ride horses...and I was absolutely terrified.
The thing with horseback riding is, you are supposed to fall off... and then of course get right back on. I never fell off...and as time went on, I got more and more afraid of falling. There were times when I should have been thrown, or bucked, or scraped off a horse but I clung on for dear life.
The policy at the barn was that the instructor picked your horse for the week, and you would not know which horse you were riding until you looked up at the little green chalkboard outside of the office window. Those were some tense moments.
There was Galahad who, despite the name, was no knight in shining armor. Instead, he was the oldest horse in the barn, not only that, he wasn't even a horse...he was a "large pony" who I could have mounted standing flat footed. Days with Galahad were safe, but boring. Even I felt a foolish riding around on something that allowed my feet to scrape the floor.
And there was Raindrop, a spirited Appaloosa who left me pining for a Galahad day...I once watched Raindrop toss my best friend over her head smack into a barn door. My friend suffered a broken ankle and I suffered from paralyzing fear every time I got near the beast.
But then there was Ace...just a normal old quarter horse, but big enough not to make me feel like a fool and steady enough so that I was never afraid. I lived for the days when I saw his name beside mine on the old green board.
This Friday is my 28 week doctor's appointment with Gracie. To this point, some of my appointment's have been Galahads...I'm thankful for them, but they are slow and leave me impatient and wanting to know more. There have also been a couple of Raindrop's, appointment where I feel like I am clinging on for dear life and so thankful to be getting the heck out of there. And then there have been some of Aces...big appointments that still managed to make me feel safe and comforted.
Despite my best efforts to cling on, I fell off the horse when Rip died. My pregnancy with Gracie has been my getting back on moment...I just hope this Friday and every appointment after gives me an Ace.
The thing with horseback riding is, you are supposed to fall off... and then of course get right back on. I never fell off...and as time went on, I got more and more afraid of falling. There were times when I should have been thrown, or bucked, or scraped off a horse but I clung on for dear life.
The policy at the barn was that the instructor picked your horse for the week, and you would not know which horse you were riding until you looked up at the little green chalkboard outside of the office window. Those were some tense moments.
There was Galahad who, despite the name, was no knight in shining armor. Instead, he was the oldest horse in the barn, not only that, he wasn't even a horse...he was a "large pony" who I could have mounted standing flat footed. Days with Galahad were safe, but boring. Even I felt a foolish riding around on something that allowed my feet to scrape the floor.
And there was Raindrop, a spirited Appaloosa who left me pining for a Galahad day...I once watched Raindrop toss my best friend over her head smack into a barn door. My friend suffered a broken ankle and I suffered from paralyzing fear every time I got near the beast.
But then there was Ace...just a normal old quarter horse, but big enough not to make me feel like a fool and steady enough so that I was never afraid. I lived for the days when I saw his name beside mine on the old green board.
This Friday is my 28 week doctor's appointment with Gracie. To this point, some of my appointment's have been Galahads...I'm thankful for them, but they are slow and leave me impatient and wanting to know more. There have also been a couple of Raindrop's, appointment where I feel like I am clinging on for dear life and so thankful to be getting the heck out of there. And then there have been some of Aces...big appointments that still managed to make me feel safe and comforted.
Despite my best efforts to cling on, I fell off the horse when Rip died. My pregnancy with Gracie has been my getting back on moment...I just hope this Friday and every appointment after gives me an Ace.
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