Happy Halloween!

I can't show you any cool Halloween pictures of us carving pumpkins this year because I'm a loser mom and we haven't actually carved our pumpkins for this year.

We spent three hours priming the walls upstairs last night and we came to a few conclusions.
~All primer is not created equal.
~Beware the wrath of a four-year-old with a paint roller.
~Three hours of painting leads to very sound sleep.
~Advil is a necessity of life.
~As tempting as it is, we can not leave everything covered in primer white...we must paint with color or our upstairs will look like an asylum.
~Wood and laminate floors are nice looking...but we may need some carpet in order to reduce the echo effect going on up there.

While bringing horses in from the pasture last night I was able to see the house all lit up on the inside. I must admit that it looks warm and inviting. But it definitely needs another kid in it. I'm not being greedy...one would be enough.

Liar, liar, pants on fire

So I thought I could trust you all to call bullshit when you saw it.

Hmmm...I may have to re-evaluate our relationship.

I am not doing well. Not at all.

Now who wants to help me paint?

Dear Catherine:

I am pleased to inform you that Travis' marker has been completed, and was shipped via UPS Ground on Friday 10/27.

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Well, I'm glad he's pleased.

Toast Life

Last night we attended Baby Milo's social debut. On the drive into the big city for the celebration, I saw a billboard for Korbel that said, "Toast Life." And that is what we did...in grand fashion.

It was quite the party (even though we were too lame to participate in the costumey fun). Milo slept through the first half, all snuggled up in his bumblebee costume. But once his mama (or was it his papa?) took him out of his little bumblebee bunting, he was awake enough to grace us with his arm waving and a couple of smiles. He is such cute baby...very mellow and laid back.

It was a lot of fun to meet Laura and Justin's family and friends. Justin's mom, brother, sister-in-law, and niece (only a few weeks older than Milo), all dressed up as Joe, Justin's step-father. It made me giggle to see all those mustaches...especially on the baby.

Laura's mom is just as lovely as Laura, though I question her sanity just a bit in leaving warm and sunny Florida to come to Ohio at this time of the year. But I can see why she would move to the frozen tundra of the north, as she seems more than content to sit and just snuggle with her little bumblebee.

And lest you think Milo's parents have been mellowed at all by parenthood (of a living child)...I give you this...

This post or that post

I have two posts rolling around in my brain.

The first is filled with negative energy directed outward at everyone who has told me recently that "it's just too hard to read your blog." Yeah...I get it...I'm sad...this blog is sad...you just can't bring yourself to face that. Never mind that I don't get a choice about the sadness and you make me feel like an inconvenience when you say things like that...we're good.

oops...it seems as though that first post just slipped out. Though I can assure anyone reading this that the original version was much longer and filled with profanities that would make your hair curl.

The second is the post that I'm afraid to post. It's the one that will most likely cause a chain reaction of telephone calls the likes of which I'm not sure the telecommunications infrastructure of our great country can handle. Plus, I don't want to jinx anything. No, I'm not pregnant (thank God).

[Big deep breath]

We submitted the preliminary application with an adoption facilitator.

[Another big deep breath]

Ladies and gentlemen, hope has returned to the building.

We submitted the application via email and I have to admit that it was exciting to press the SEND button. Terrifying...but exciting. This is a process unlike any other. Yes, it has similarities to other "big" steps in life. But this one...it makes me want to giggle and throw up all at the same time (which I’m sure would not be a pretty sight). And it's funny, because I thought you didn't get morning sickness except when you were the one pregnant. Turns out other things can induce similar physical symptoms. But I digress.

The procedure seems somewhat like the lengthy drawn-out sort of process you go through when buying a house. It feels like the excitement and fear in that instant before you walk down the aisle to get married. All the anticipation of a new baby is there. I can’t say it is without fear…but it is a different kind of fear. I suppose once you’ve faced the fear of having another dead baby, the fear of a failed adoption is somehow less stressful. Yes, I know an adoptive baby could still die…but it won’t die inside me.

So there it is. The post I was afraid to post.

It’s like admitting failure and embracing possibility all with the same set of words. And it’s a much better post than that first one I was considering.

We will hear from the adoption facilitator within the next two weeks.

[Another big deep breath]

(I have a feeling I'm going to be doing a lot of that deep breathing in the coming months...maybe I should take up yoga.)

***edited to add: Private Domestic Adoption***

Do you see it?

Siding on the FRONT of the house!

Crafting and shopping and other non-birth/death related activities

~Do you have any idea how hard it is to craft in a house that is under construction?

~I have almost finished the not-so-secret gift for a friend's baby. K...I spent yesterday's seminar time crocheting away and it's almost finished. I should have it ready to mail out to you by Monday. It is completely impractical but I hope you like it anyway.

~I need to buy a snap setter for my charity sewing of burial gowns. eBay here I come.

~I have to unearth my sewing machine in order to sew for my charity sewing of burial gowns. Where do I put the mountain of crap that is currently sitting on top of the sewing machine? I guess it doesn't matter since the whole house looks like a disaster area.

~My secret santa shopping is done for my birth month message board exchange. This particular mom was a challenge, since I don't know her real well. But I think I picked something she'll like. Now to shop for family gifts. Christmas is right around the corner!

~Speaking of shopping, I get to shop for a baby girl gift for my friend's new baby! I just love pink and ruffles.

~I've been shopping for my Secret Pal...there are too many things I want to get her. How do you shop for yarn? Color? Fiber? Weight? Price? I can't talk about what I'm planning here, because I don't want to chance my pal figuring out my identity.

~I'm allergic to my "Alex ring." Figures. (If you have sensitive skin, do not buy ArtCarved rings made with their "Silver Select" metal.) The gold ring with all three boys' names that was purported to be solid gold, but was, in fact, a hollow gold band, was lost in the mail upon return to Limoges Jewelry. (I wouldn't buy anything else from them either, since their product descriptions misrepresent the actual items.) I'm thinking I should give up the idea of a ring at this point.

~Blogger has not been very cooperative lately. I'm thinking of switching but I don't want to spend a lot of money and I want all my archives to follow me. Any ideas oh wise and wonderful internets?

~Favorite Halloween candy? Mary Janes (in orange and black wrappers)

Welcome to the world Ava Maureen!

My friend M welcomed her miracle baby girl Ava into her already beautiful family this morning at 8:53am. Ava weighs 7lbs 14oz and is 20 inches long.

Congratulations to the whole family!

Inside jokes

Last night I turned to Steve and asked, "Do you ever have days where you just feel like you're not doing so well?" I know full well that most normal people would think I meant I was having a bad day. But I hoped that Steve would understand the true question.

And he did.

And he answered, "Yes."

And that was what I needed to hear, not because I needed to hear it, but because it was true. He has never lied to me about his feelings that I know of, and this is a gift that I never really paid much attention to until we lost our boys. Someone by your side who fully understands you. I don't mean in the superficial way that people think is important when they are 'falling in love.' But in the real and honest and sometimes ugly ways that we hope to never have to rely on.

He gets it in a way that few people ever will.

But the fact that he gets it is a comfort and a weapon that cuts too deep at the same time. I hate that we have any reason to share that sort of communication. It kills me inside to know that he will understand the truth when I ask those sorts of questions. I know if I asked him he would say that he wouldn't want it any other way...he would want us to be in this together. But I just wish I could spare him that understanding. While I'm glad I'm not, I wish I was alone in this.

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So my waking dream this morning was of a giant dark wood bookcase falling on me. In a split second I knew I couldn't outrun it...so I didn't even try. Likewise, I knew I could curl up in a ball and try to minimize the damage to my body...but I didn't. I just lay stretched out there until I was startled awake (by the impact of the bookcase on my body perhaps).

There was a time when I would have moved to save myself. In that split second I would have made the decision to scramble up and try to get out of the way, even if there was little chance I would make it to safety. I would have done something.

But now, I just lay there and wait for the crushing weight to land on me. No movement at all.

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In this morning's email:

Dear Catherine:

I thought I would contact you since the production of Travis' marker has taken slightly longer than I anticipated.

The marker is scheduled to be completed this Friday, and I will contact you as soon as I receive confirmation that the marker has shipped.

Please let me know if you should have any questions.

Sincerely,

Gary - Customer Service
Markers Direct

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Tomorrow I will be attending a conference out of the office with new mommy coworker. I promise I will not kill her...and I will be sure to take notes on all the amazing stories of her son's life so that I can share them with you (because I'm sure you'll be just as interested as I am in the life and times of a boy who should be about the same age as my first dead baby).

And the third verse...la de da de da

It seems I've been here before...this time, this place, this feeling. I posted something a year ago titled, "Second verse, same as the first." And here I am...not so very far from that place at all...but a million miles from the place I was two years ago. How did an entire year go by without me?

I want to feel like I'm a part of life again...not just a part of the same old refrain sung over and over without any sense of emotion. I long for that feeling of unbridled joy that could elicit dancing or singing without prior warning (and people need prior warning if I'm going to sing or dance...because it is a scary scary thing). I miss being happy and I feel guilty for it.

I stare at their pictures on my wall and think how beautiful they were. Our babies. But they are gone and I am tired of missing them. What the hell kind of mother am I? Don't bother me kid, you're dead.

Sam's preschool Halloween party was fun only because I drank beforehand. No, I'm kidding, I didn't drink beforehand (though I really don't understand mulled cider that doesn't have a kick...blech). But I did steel myself to go into the party as that other person...the one who hasn't been through all this crap these past two years. And I had fun despite running literally face first into tiny babies who were born about the same time Travis should have been born. The little lady bug and the little lion costumes brought a smile at the time. I am inordinately proud of myself for holding it together.

But now the tears fall freely. I suppose it's some sort of delayed reaction intended as a defense mechanism. Personally, I wish it would stop with the giant mind-f***. It is impossible to work or get anything productive done when you don't know if you're going to burst into tears for a reason that may have occurred several days ago.

I want off this roller coaster. And even the decision not to talk TTC for the rest of the home renovation period has not meant I'm allowed to disembark from the ride. It seems the hills and valleys are taken at a slower speed that is much less vomit-inducing, but they are still there just has high and low as ever. I second-guess myself and wonder if there will ever be a time when life is good...just good...no strings...no qualifiers.

I am still stuck with the questions I asked the pastor during the planning for Alex's funeral...How do I just go on? Am I supposed to act like nothing has changed? How do I do that? How could God let this happen to us? Two years and I am no closer to any answers.

I so desperately want to sing a different tune. Because this one is old and sad and starting to wear thin on my nerves. (Don't ya just love a mixed metaphor at the end of a really bad post?)

Tile decision made

The light tile is the floor tile. The other is the shower and tub surround tile with accent. We're saving some money and only putting the accent on the tub (since nobody sees the inside of the shower anyway). Now, I need to decide where to put the line of accent tiles...toward the bottom, middle or top of the tub surround.

Even pumpkins?!?!

I planned to grow pumpkins this year. But like a lot of things, it just didn't happen. Hell, I planned to grow a kid and that didn't happen. So I gave up the idea of pumpkins along with the idea of most anything else that required care to grow. In fact, I only got a few peas, tomatoes and peppers out of my garden because I just didn't feel that growing spirit in me.

So we'll go to the pumpkin patch and I'll smile and take pictures. I guess that's not so bad when you consider the long list of disappointments this year.

And aren't I a freakin' ball of sunshine? Geez...I don't even want to listen to myself.

I just want to buy a pumpkin without feeling sad.

It's only a pumpkin...not a metaphor for my life...really.

House update

The siding is moving along. The red window looks silly now. Definitely going to have to get out there and paint it white...soon.


We have one door in. Now to get the doorknob in it.



Here's the tub area where I need tile help. The front face and part of the surround walls will be tiled...if I can ever make a decision on tile. I would like it to coordinate with the shower tile...again...a choice I have to make. The floor tile is just neutral beige ceramic that has a sort of marble design to it.

Pain and Perspective

Each of us is broken, somewhere deep inside
And we're really not that different, if you strip away the pride
Pray for Me (Rob Crosby & Allen Shamblin)

I get that everyone has their issues. I get that people have problems. Believe it or not, I even feel empathy for other people going through a tough time...I do feel pain for them. I have perspective.

It's just that this ugly little voice inside of me always screams.

I never let it be heard by anyone but me (and Steve and the internet). I know that giving it a voice would make me a monster.

But that doesn't stop it from screaming.

More than anything, I want to silence it. I want some peace. I want the pain to subside so that I can feel for other people again without self-consideration. I don't want to have to weigh whether I'm capable of being supportive today...whether I have the strength to withstand someone else's pain in addition to my own. I just want to be a friend that someone can turn to without question or fear that I'm going to let them down because I'm not strong enough. Faking it seems wrong.

No amount of repetitive, "Keep perspective," makes it shut up. There has to be something else I can DO to feel better. Until I figure out what it is...the screaming continues.

My head hurts with the howls of pain.

Too many choices

Ceramic
Slate
Glass
Painted
Individual
Mosaic
Molded
Etched
Colors
Size
Price

And that's just for the tub tile!

Enough already!

If I have to listen to my office neighbor complain about taking the bar exam one more time... Results are out next week. I hope to hell he passes or I might have to start regularly bringing headphones to work.

I would kill for your problems

How do I deal with this?

I keep thinking, "I would do almost anything for your problems." I don't want to belittle other people's issues...but I just can't seem to stop my brain from going to that place where I think, "At least your kids are alive." And then the guilt for thinking that sets in and I beat myself up pretty well.

It seems I've got the grieving part of this routine down pretty well. Now I just need some help on the healing part of it.

Thoughts?

The little things

For the past two years I have been consumed with "the big things"...life, death, love, God. Many of the little things have been categorized into a less significant place in my life. Lately, however, I am again noticing how important the little things are. Actually, I am noticing how the little things and the big things collide all around me, causing ripples in my life that can change my mood, my thought process, even my direction in life.

Like yesterday when I opened my mailbox and there was a Halloween card for Sam. I saw the return address and immediately thought, "Grandma sent Sam a Halloween card like she always does." Then there was a beat, a brief moment where the collision of the reality of her death and that little card occurred, and I smiled. Right there at my mailbox I was struck by how much I miss that crazy old Polish lady...and how blessed I was to have her as my grandma for all those years. I miss her, no doubt, but I also celebrate all those moments I had with her that made my life so rich...so right.

My grandma always sent the cards and signed both hers and my grandpa's names before. My aunt sent this card, on behalf of my grandpa. And so it goes...

Thanks Aunt J. It meant more than you may ever know.

More grief

If you have another moment, please stop by Manuela's blog and surround her with love.

God, this happens TOO much!

You just never know

My colleague brought this magic wand into the office so that we can share its magical powers. When we wave it in a persons direction, they do what we want with no questions asked.

Now to understand the hilarity of this, you must understand that we are attorneys who work for local government...nobody does what we want with no questions asked. And the magic wand has, on more than one occasion, been contemplated as a weapon to bean someone over the head...opposing counsel, clients, defendants, the boss...the magic wand is equal opportunity.

My colleague is funny, but I have never considered her to be the type to really let her guard down and laugh a full belly laugh with anyone. So it really caught me off guard when she returned the magic wand to my office this morning telling me how it didn't work in the Supreme Court. I'm not kidding you. She took this thing to the Supreme Court of Ohio! She said it shows up remarkably well on the xray machine as you enter the building...but the security guard, while looking a bit perplexed, did not even ask.

I'm still laughing over this.