Friday, February 14, 2014

Not so quick takes on loss and snow and from the mouth of babes. #7QT

Thank you for all your kind prayers and condolences as we struggle with our second miscarriageThis feels much different from our first for many reasons. Not only does two make it scarily feel like a pattern (though it certainly could have just been random bad luck each time), this time, we had an inkling it was coming for quite some time and now that we know, it's somewhat of a relief.  It feels a bit awful to say that, but it's not a relief that we lost our child, just a relief that we finally know for sure and can now face the reality with certainty.  Also, back in October, I miscarried naturally with only a small sign that something might be wrong. As I sit now, I know for sure that there is not a live child within me and I am waiting for my body to catch up with that knowledge.  It's a bit unreal.  I never had much in the way of pregnancy symptoms this time, but I am continuing to have those few symptoms and it's strange to feel like you've somehow "bested" nature by having knowledge of the fact that I'm no longer truly pregnant while my body hasn't quite come to that realization yet. 

In a way, we've already been grieving for nearly a month since that first ultrasound showed a large discrepancy from my dates, and in a way, I feel like I can't actually start grieving until the physical miscarriage starts and stops.  Right now, my main emotion is incredible sadness that it will be at least a year before we can welcome another living member to our family (and only if everything goes right).  I'm sure I'll feel more sadness in the future about this particular child we lost, but I think that will take time as we have had a hard time connecting with him/her this entire pregnancy.  We have yet to pick out a name for this little one and though we haven't decided what we will do with certainty, this child will probably not have a burial and headstone like the last little one.  (No baby developed this time, so there is technically no body to bury.)

We have received a ton of love and support these last few weeks. In addition to the probable miscarriage, we've been dealing with illness here and it's been impossible for us to keep up with the housework or grocery shopping or dinner.  We've received meals from friends in the area and even pizza ordered and gift cards sent from friends elsewhere. David's brother and his family sent us an edible arrangement.  (If you have a family going through tough times, new baby, etc and they have little ones, that is seriously the best thing to send ever. Ready-to-eat fruit at a time when going to the grocery store, much less cutting up an apple [or a pineapple?], is a feat makes for very happy toddler and parents. I think that's the healthiest snack she's had in weeks.) 

AND a group of amazing #cathsorority women went in together to buy us a house cleaning.  I cannot express how amazing it was to come home after finding out that we are going to miscarry (and then spending four hours in the car in a snowstorm) and walking into a clean house.  Are shiny bathtubs and sinks going to take away my grief? No, but they certainly take away some of the stress of trying to "perform" as a parent and wife and housekeeper while I'm dealing with the grief.  David's been saying one phrase over and over and over again during this past week and a half: "Wow, you know some nice people." And I do.  And would you believe that most of them I don't even "know" in real life?  It's pretty unreal. 

Speaking of a four hour drive in snow (usually about a 50 minute drive in non-snow), the weather here is awful.  If you are from a generally snowy area, I'm sure you see us on the national news and laugh, but this much snow here is no laughing matter.  I will admit that I laugh about certain things about southerners in the snow. Like the fact that at least half the people on the road had their emergency flashers on while driving.  When we got home, there were several comments on the news about, "Please don't use your emergency lights while driving unless you have an actual emergency." Because contrary to popular opinion around here, driving in the snow is not an emergency in and of itself.  

The roads were horrible though. David said it was a formidable storm, even by Colorado standards and the roads were super icy. That just doesn't happen in Colorado. We get ice (sometimes) after dark after a snowstorm if the snow has melted a bit beforehand. We don't get ice as soon as it starts snowing.  And the hills here? There were some hills that no one was going up.  At all.  The traffic just stopped.  Tons of people abandoned their vehicles. Serious mayhem.  

But, due to the weather, David got to stay home with me today and yesterday (and he had next week off for winter break) so I'm actually pretty happy about it overall.  But prayers are really needed for the emergency personnel and those without electricity and the homeless and those that are elderly or housebound without people to look in on them.  Since this kind of storm is rare here (the second this year, but we experienced no snow-sticking-to-the-ground the entire previous winter we lived here), the infrastructure just isn't here to support them.

Last month, Lucia had two catch phrases:

'Licious ("Delicious") - used for more than just food, 
as in "Do you want to wear this shirt?" " 'Licious!"

Dat's bed-duh. ("That's better.")

This month, her two phrases are:

I did it!
Hippee! ("Yippee!")

Sticking to the rule of twos, she also sings exactly two songs:

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells....all away!"

"Rock a baby, rock a baby, rock a baby, rock a baby. TREE TOP!"

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!


  1. I am so sorry for your loss. The entire miscarriage experience is one of the worst things I've ever been through, and I feel so much for anyone that has to go through that pain. :(

    My three year old is still singing Christmas songs!

  2. I am very sorry for your loss.
    My miscarriages have been the hardest experiences of my life. I will pray for you.

  3. Praying for you during this tough time- and grateful that you have a sweet little one with all "licious"-ness to keep you smiling!

  4. I'm so sorry for your loss... prayers as you grieve for your little one.

    On a happier note, what a sweet chickadee you have!


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