A very merry Christmas....

On our way to playgroup Christmas.... my sweet, sweet baby girl.

12.18... Opening her first gifts of 2011 with the Baker side.

12.19... Our first family Christmas without Grandma VK.

The only decent family photo we got this year!!

12.23

Christmas Eve with the Kadzban side!!

Did you know it's next to impossible to get a toddler to smile at just the right moment?!

Opening presents with daddy at Grandma & Grandpa's house

We spent Christmas morning at home... just the three of us. <3

Christmas afternoon at my parents house.... Liana LOVES her new kitchen set!

The best gift this mommy could ever ask for.

12.27... A family outing to Frederick Meijer Gardens to see the "Christmas Around the World" exhibit

Liana LOVED the trains that passed through the arboretum!!

Be still my heart.

"Look at the train daddy!"

Take two of three with Auntie Brittany. <3

This is what a USA tree should look like... in case you didn't know. ;)

Christmas 2010 was:
wonderful.
joyful.
busy.
but not chaotic.... so just how i like it.
fun.
full of memories and "firsts".
spent with family in all the right ways.

I'd also like to say that it's official..... I LOVE weekends off. I LOVE spending time with my husband and my little girl. I LOVE feeling like a family of three for the first time.... ever.

Life is good right now. Still full of ups and downs, but good.

I'm eager to ring in 2011. I'm hopeful for the new year because 2010 wasn't all that easy on me/us between my job hunt and losing our baby (should I even mention the fact that I would've been 20 weeks today and finding out the gender?).

I'm eager for more joy to return to my life.

I want to feel brand new again.

One more thing.... Mike and I are celebrating 10 years of togetherness on Friday.

The night it all began... 12.31.00

Ten is a big number for this little family. If you know my husband, you know why. (But for those of you who don't, I won't leave you in the dark.... #10 is Mike's hockey number and his FAVORITE number. He even celebrates 10/10 for cripes sake... must I mention that 10/10/10 was this year and he about flipped out?!) 

I'm proud of ten years. I hope we ring it in right. <3

Waves of grief.

For weeks, I've been wanting to update.

Yesterday, while driving, I was thinking about all the things I wanted to say.

And of course, when I finally get the chance to actually sit down and write, my slate is clean because that's just the way it goes. But I'll try my best to say the words that have been running through my mind for the past  few weeks.

I'll start here.... things haven't been easy. Things haven't been good.

Liana? She's fine. Minus the cold she came down with last night.

Mike? He's fine too.

Me? Haven't been so fine.

Grief is a strange thing. One day you feel okay... maybe even fine or good... but then the next, you feel like you got hit by a train all over again.

Last week Monday, I felt relief. For the week or so prior, I'd felt that God had given me a reprieve. I emailed my friend Stephanie this:

The last two weeks have felt really strange for me.... almost like relief. I'm still sad about losing the baby and I remember every once in a while things like, "Oh, I'd be 16 weeks right now and definitely showing. Maybe even feeling slight movements." or "We'd be finding out the baby's gender in just a few short weeks." But overall, I feel like I've moved past it.... which honestly, I feel guilty about.

I think the biggest reason for my relief is that I finally realized that God taking some control over the situation was actually a little bit comforting to me. When the miscarriage first happened, I was angry at Him for taking my baby back. But after a few weeks, I started really thinking about how I had really felt when I was pregnant: nervous & scared about having two so young. I had always thought I wanted my kids close in age (2 years apart) and being the control freak that I am, I knew that I wanted my next baby in the spring again for a lot of different "Type A" reasons. So I leaped. I told myself that I'd be ready by the time the baby got here in May. But in reality, I don't think I would've been. I look at things now and am thankful for the fact that I don't have to hurry Liana out of her nursery. That I don't have to worry about potty training before we're all ready. I get excited about the fact that Liana can be more of a "big sister" and a help once our next baby comes along. I just feel like God took the pressure off me... granted in a very emotionally and physically painful way... but He still did it. I find myself thankful that I'm getting to enjoy this time with her rather than feeling exhausted and sick because she's SO MUCH FUN right now. I realized that having my kids closer to three years apart could definitely have its perks. I learned that the rules I applied for myself in my teens (ie: having my kids 2 years apart) didn't necessarily fit how I was feeling 10 years later. I see my friends who have a less-than-two-year-old who are pregnant and due in the coming months and see their anxiety about introducing a new baby into the mix. I know they'll do fine.... but I'm thankful that I don't have the worries that they have right now.

I just feel like this miscarriage has transformed my life into something I never expected. Like God knew a better plan for me. Like He knew what I needed even when I didn't.... more time.

And then that night, I got an email. An email that changed everything I had been feeling so quickly.

In the subject line was, "Your Pregnancy: Week 17."

And there I laid, on the train tracks.

In one moment, everything changed. Again.

Last week, I couldn't stop thinking about it. The grief was more painful than ever before. I just kept thinking about how big my belly would be. That I'd be starting to feel little kicks. That we'd be finding out the gender of our baby just before/after Christmas.

For days I was in a funk. I wanted to cry but for some reason, I couldn't. (We'll talk more about this later.) And it didn't help matters that no one knew how I was feeling, including my husband.

Then on Thursday, I went for my weekly afternoon date with Ashley. We talked deeply. I spilled my guts. I even started to cry.... "started" being the key word there. (Again, we'll talk more about this in a minute.) Ashley encouraged me to cry, to talk to Mike, to be easy on myself, to let myself feel these emotions but still find hope in what lies ahead.

Friday, I made her proud (though she doesn't know it until now). My first visit was an hour away from home and I let the tears stream down my face the entire way there.

Friday night, I cried some more. Finally, I let Mike into how I had been feeling. I think he was a bit shocked at the fact that this was still so hard for me.

Since then, things have gradually been getting better with regards to the miscarriage. Thankfully, the pregnancy emails have FINALLY stopped coming. Each day gets a little brighter but I won't deny that the pain is still there.

I still miss my baby. I still miss what I had hoped would be.

However, things are no where close to easy yet. While the grief I've been feeling for myself is temporarily subsiding, my grief for what other's are enduring right now is painfully strong.

I'm praying fiercely at night. For Stephanie. For Ashley. For Linda & her son Ike. For Carissa & her son Trenton. For another friend... who shall remain nameless.... that received some shocking (in a good but possibly scary way) news on Wednesday. For my papa, whose skin cancer has spread now from his face to his hands.

My world is full of pain right now. Full of worry. I just want something good. Something amazing. I want a miracle for my family and my friends. I don't want anyone to suffer or live in fear anymore. I want our children to be safe and free from harm.

As I walk through this journey of grief though, I'm learning a lot about myself. I've learned that I'm a lot stronger than I ever thought I was... and I've always thought of myself as a pretty strong person. I've learned that I grieve differently than others do. Many women cope through tears.... I tend to cope through anger. I get angry at the world for being so harsh. I get angry at God. My faith has truly been tried over these last few months but yet I still find myself praying to Him at the end of the day. Praying for release. redemption. healing. answers. miracles. I'm thankful He has strong shoulders that can bear my burdens and my pain... and that those shoulders can handle the anger I sometimes throw at Him. I don't feel guilty for sometimes feeling this way because I know He can help me through it. He has this far, hasn't He?

I've learned that while in my professional life I tell people not to bury their emotions... I am guilty of doing just this. I often say things like, "You have to let yourself experience the grief because if you don't, you'll eventually explode and all those penned up emotions will just come pouring out." Yet here I am, penning up my own. People ask me all the time how I'm doing and many times I lie. My mind screams "Not good" but my mouth says "Fine". Because that same mind tells me that if they really want to know the truth, they'll ask the question more assertively. I'm okay with not always sharing the truth, just like I'm sure people are sometimes more comfortable with not always knowing the truth. It can be easier that way.

I've learned that it seriously takes a lot for me to cry. And not because my heart doesn't want to, but for some reason, I just don't allow myself to. I'll find myself standing over the kitchen sink washing dishes and all of a sudden I'll feel that twitch in my nose that lets me know the tears might be coming. Rather than let them come, I scrunch up this nose of mine because it's the only thing I can do that stops the tears dead in their tracks. I'll be alone in my car and a song will come on that makes me sad and again, I'll scrunch my nose to stop them from coming. Even when it's completely "safe" to cry (ie... I'm alone), I don't let myself do it. I wish I did, but I don't.

Even when the tears do come, I have a hard time letting anyone else comfort me. This includes Mike, which is upsetting to both of us. The ones who are most comforting are the ones who have also experienced this kind of pain... and Mike just doesn't understand. I really struggle with that at times because this was our baby.

I'm highly anxious about how the next week or so will go as we bounce from Christmas party to Christmas party.

So I know I've asked for lots of prayers lately, but please keep them coming. Pray for my friends who are coping with hardships or shocking changes. Pray that Trenton and Ike are healed. Pray that Ashley's boys remain healthy. Pray for no other miscarriages. Pray that my heart is peaceful this holiday season.

I love you all for doing it. Thank you from the bottom of my only-slightly-broken-these-days  heart.

Also, Mike and I are considering taking a "second honeymoon" come the first of February. Because our first honeymoon was just a simple trip to NYC for a few days and we've never taken a full-blown vacation just the two of us, we thought it would be nice to do this while we have the chance. However, I'm slightly anxious about going away when two of my closest friends will be welcoming their babies into the world (or home from the hospital in Ashley's case) around that same time and about spending the money to go. We have more than enough in our savings but as the planner that I am, I hate to tap into it for something that's not deemed "absolutely necessary". So, give me your input. :)

20 months.

Liana turned 20 months old last Wednesday.

And I'd just like to tell you all that 20 months is pure bliss.

This little girl is the most remarkable thing I've ever been a part of.

Every ounce of joy in my life is because of her.

I never knew that I could love someone so deeply. So purely.

I've said it before and I'll say it again... maybe even every day for the rest of my life... she is the best thing that's ever happened to me.

So, here's a brief snapshot of my little girl at 20 months.

She speaks sentences now. Sure, they're short sentences, but they still count! A few examples would be "Get down Moose!" or "Come Bauer!" or "Daddy go bye bye?". She loves bossing everyone around (hmmm... wonder where she gets that from?!) but somehow she still manages to be sweet as pie. In the morning, the first words out of her mouth are "Mickey Mouse?" because we watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse every.single.morning from 8-9:30. She doesn't sit in front of the television for long though... often she just watches the opening sequence and then runs off to play. But the minute she hears the 'hot dog' song, she's back in front of that tv singing and dancing. And during the closing sequence, she always chimes in to the "clubHOUSE" part. (With a clear emphasis on house, because she's been saying that word for so long). I'm certain that she says at least 50 words by this point.... maybe even 100. I'm thinking of starting a list to find out for sure. It's incredible how her language is expanding daily... I swear she tries to repeat EVERYTHING we say to her. For that very reason, we had to forewarn Mike's brothers to watch their mouths on Thanksgiving Day. (And they did a pretty good job with only a few minor slip ups... one even coming from Mike!) I even heard her say "Wind Board" last week while watching a Baby Einstein video. I'm telling you, she picks up everything!

At bedtime, she no longer lets me read to her.... no no.... she reads to me. Her Baby Einstein book, which is full of pictures with their names under it, is known by heart. We can go through each page and she knows just which word belongs to which picture. For example, my kid knows the difference between a cello, an accordian, and a violin. Yep, that's my smart girl! She'll walk into her playroom, where we have most of her books on a shelf, and pull them out to read. She sits on the floor with the book in her lap and with her finger, she runs across each and every word while "reading" (aka babbling) out loud. She learned this pointing thing from me, as I found it was one way of keeping her focus on the reading task when I was reading to her. Liana can also count and it's definitely her new favorite thing. She's got 1-9 down pat, skips #10 (ironic, since it's Mike's favorite number! maybe I'll finally have an ally in this house after all ;) and goes straight to 11, 12, and 13. She counts EVERYTHING.... the steps as we walk up them, the ducks in her bathtub, the food on her plate. It's amazing.

We've finally broken her (actually, this happened more than a month ago) of her paci during the day. She now only gets it at naptime and bedtime and she knows it doesn't come out of her crib. In the morning, she throws it in there like the big girl that she is along with lovey and she hasn't asked for either one during the day at all. I'm so glad she wasn't terrible about giving it up, because I surely love seeing that smile of hers without having a purple pacifier in the way!

We've started introducing the potty to her. We're not in potty-training mode yet, but I figured it'd be good to slowly get her used to the idea. So, we spend about 20 minutes a day sitting on it and that time is usually decided by her. Once she sees it, she says "Potty?" and wants to go on. We give her books and show her lots of new things to explore as she sits there and she's content as can be. She'll even point down to the potty and say, "Doo doo?" or "Potty?" We haven't had any "productive" moments on it yet, but when we do that will surely be cause for one very big celebration. :)

We've got all of our teeth except our final four molars... but she's had them all since early summer, so that's not really news.

Last week, she got her first bout of the "flu"... while at Nana and Papa's house on an overnight. Nana said she threw up NINE times. My poor baby! Part of me hated that I wasn't there to hold her through it, but another part of me felt relief because I can't imagine seeing my baby sick like that. (Which makes me think of you, Linda.) And after she got it, ALL of us got it.... my dad, my mom, my sister, me, but NOT Mike. Don't ask me how he managed that one. This mama was lucky enough to even get it two weekends in a row. Not so much fun, I tell you.

She still hates the car. With a passion. Even 10 minute road trips are awful... I hate to rely on a machine to entertain my child, but I'll admit to letting her watch her Einstein DVD's if I know the ride will be longer than 10 or 15 minutes. She also hates getting out of the bath. She loves to get in and she'll stay in far past the point that her water is warm anymore. For this very reason, I hate bath time. I hate forcing her out... I hate the temper tantrum it results in... I hate that she won't let me wash her hair... I just hate the whole thing.

She now knows almost every one of our family members and closest friends by name. This includes: Nana & Papa, Auntie (Brittany), Grandma & Grandpa, Gigi & Gipa (my nana and papa), Bauer & Moose, Rachel, Blair, Dan, Ben, Ash (Ashley), Kate, Jaeger, Lily, Graham, Mo (Megan), Matt & Laura, and my cousin Dustin. If I have a picture of you up in this house, you're known by my little one. So get me those pictures people! :)

There's so much more I'm sure I'm missing.

But, the moral of this story is quite simple: my 20 month old is ridiculously fantastic. She makes this mama's heart smile in a way no one else can. She makes every day, even the worst ones, completely worthwhile. I've said this every month for the past 11 months, but 20 months is definitely my favorite so far.

I'm completely smitten. :)

Four weeks.

Wow, I can barely believe it's been four weeks already since we lost our baby.

And people were right.... the pain hasn't gone away.

I've actually been having a harder time this past week than I was having immediately after it happened. I'm sure that's because the reality is finally setting in.... so many of my friends are pregnant right now and I'm terribly jealous of everything they're getting to experience. I know my day will come again (I started my first regular period yesterday... exactly on the four week mark of finding out our baby was gone) and I'm craving pregnancy. I'm craving the excitement, the joy, the preparation. But at the same time, I know I'm not quite ready. It's a tough balance.

Some days, I only think about it a handful of times. Other days, it hits me like a brick wall all over again and it's all I can do not to think about it every.single.minute. Those bad days feel paralyzing. They make me scrunch my nose while in a meeting.... because if you know me, you know that scrunching my nose is the only thing that keeps the tears from coming.... or while in the car listening to a song that reminds me of the pain I feel from this, after I've gotten an email from someone I love, or while watching something on tv.

On those bad days, I get really angry. It seems that this anger is my strongest coping mechanism when dealing with this loss as I feel it often. I'm angry because this isn't fair. Because I deserve to have my baby just as much as all my friends deserve to have their babies... but for some reason, I don't.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. This sucks.

I know this rollercoaster ride we call life will take me to the top again. I pray that Mike and I won't have to endure this pain again. I pray that our next pregnancy will be happy and healthy and our baby will come out as perfect as Liana did.

But for now.... we wait. Until the time feels right. Until we're reassured. Until we're holding a new baby in our arms and we fully realize that our life wouldn't have been complete without them... and that in order to get to that point, we had to go through this point.

About two weeks ago, Mike forwarded me this email that he received from a coworker of his at Meijer. He barely even knows her, but yet she felt the need to send this along when she heard about us losing the baby.

I heard that you lost your baby…I’m very sorry. 

We lost a baby before we had our second daughter as well, and while this probably doesn’t help now…when you see and hold your next baby, you’ll understand that, for whatever reason,  your lives just wouldn’t be the same without him/her. 

I look at Sophie and think ‘I know that I would’ve loved the child that I lost’, but there is simply NO way my life would be complete without HER…she is just what we NEEDED, I guess.

Take it easy…give your wife a hug for me…from one Mom to another…

These words help to heal this heart of mine. They give me so much hope for the future and what's still to come.

In the mean time, I'll try to keep the faith.

Highs and Lows.

Well, my blogs have had a theme lately, so I may as well stick to that theme.

The good:

Being home this weekend was great. A little stressful as I was all over the place Saturday, but it was great. It's funny how normal it feels already to not be working weekends. I was driving to Lindsey's baby shower on Saturday afternoon and had to stop my thoughts for a second to recognize the fact that this was the first time in 25 months that I was able to do something on a weekend day without having to worry about "fudging my day a little" so I can "make an appearance", without having to take PTO, or simply without having to miss it all together. Yesterday, Mike and I took a trip to the mall (2 sundays in a row now... this could get dangerous!) and as we sat in the food court having lunch, he said to me "I have to say, I really like having you around on the weekends. It feels like we're spending so much time together because it's been forever since we've been able do do this kind of stuff." This comment made me smile because he's right. It's amazing how nice it is to spend whole days together, to walk the mall hand-in-hand, spontaneously go out for lunch or dinner together, or ditch Liana and go "out" on a Saturday night.

Plus, can I just say that co-parenting rocks? Last night around 5pm Mike started getting tired so I told him to go upstairs and take a nap. He looked at me like it was Christmas morning and said, "Really?!!" in that excited tone that he gets every once in a while. He didn't actually end up doing it but it was still one of those moments where it just hit us that hey, we're in this together. Love it. :)

Because this weekend was pretty busy, I have a feeling next weekend is when it'll really hit me that I'm off weekends. We have nothing scheduled other than a family Thanksgiving dinner for Mike's side on Sunday and I'm thinking about taking Liana to do this on Saturday morning at Tip Toes in Holland.

Also good? I FINALLY got to meet a long-time friend, Linda, on Friday night. I'll get into the circumstances more a little bit later as those aren't so great, but Linda has been a huge support to me for the past 2+ years over facebook and my blog(s). We started talking because Linda's husband, Jacob, was at one time like a big brother to me. His mom (hey Aunt Pam!) watched Brittany and I when we were young and definitely became like family... hence the reason I still to this day call her "Aunt" even though there's absolutely no relation. The Quist's lived just across the street from my parents and also had two girls, Katie and Abby, who were the exact ages of Brittany and I, so they became our best of friends. The Brabo's and The Quist's grew apart after a while but I found Jacob on facebook/myspace a few years back. He wasn't very good at updating his pics of their daughter Laney (surprise surprise, he's just like every other guy!) so I finally sent Linda a message explaining my relationship to the Quist's and asked her if she'd friend me so I can see more pics of Laney. From there on, I realized just how amazing Linda is. She's a strong woman of God with a faith as tough as nails.... and an amazing mom and wife. (Someone I could definitely look up to, wouldn't you say?) When I was pregnant with Liana, she walked me through those nine months and after Liana was born, she's helped walk me through the last 20 months too. She's irreplaceable which has been ironic seeing as I had never actually met her... until Friday. :)

More good? Mike and I spent a night "out" with the Prins' Saturday night. And it was fabulous, even though it was spent in a hospital room at Butterworth Hospital. (See how wild and crazy we are these days?!) Ashley, who is almost 25 weeks pregnant with twins, is on medical bedrest because the twins are incredibly high risk as they're in the same amniotic sac. Here's a science lesson for you: typically, identical twins split very early after fertilization and form their own individual amniotic sacs. However, Ashley's boys didn't split until 8 days (or so) into the pregnancy, which means the amniotic sac had already formed. Because they're in the same one, there's a high risk that the cord of one of the boys could get wrapped around the others neck. Ashley's been on bedrest since 20 weeks and went into the hospital last Wednesday at 24 weeks. The doctors plan to deliver the boys via c-section no later than 32 weeks. The nurses monitor those babies 3 times a day to make sure everything is still okay and by the grace of God, they are.

I hadn't seen Ashley since two days before my miscarriage started happening.... so it'd been three weeks. And oh how I missed that seeing that mama and her belly in person. I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my Saturday night "out" than to be there with she and Erik and feel those boys kick. It seriously made my weekend. :D

Finally, I also got to see Kate this weekend too!! I've been missing her like crazy these past few weeks and even though our time together was short, it was just nice to be in the same place together. Her little one wouldn't cooperate and let me feel any kicks, so I'm glad Ashley's boys came through for me as I'm definitely living vicariously through these ladies these days. I'm really hoping that Mike and I will be making a trip to the east side over the next couple weeks to spend a full weekend with Kate and Marty. It'll be awesome. :)

The Bad:

The baby shower on Saturday was really rough. I didn't realize it until I was sitting there, in the midst of everything, that I had really hoped to be there with my own baby belly that day. Even in a room full of people, I felt really lonely and very out of place. I looked at Lindsey and Kate's bellies with full-blown jealousy because I want that. I want to feel the kicks, wear the cute maternity shirts, and radiate with excitement over the fact of what's to come.

And last night was tough too. First of all, watching "16 and Pregnant" never helps matters. Second of all,  last week it was only the girls who were as far along as I was (12, 13, 14 weeks) that were difficult for me to come across on fb. But now, that's changing. It's hard for me to see anything from any of my friends that are pregnant. It's not that I'm not happy for them.... God knows I am.... I'm just jealous because I want what they have. I want to be naive to the pain of a miscarriage, as many of them thankfully are, and not have to deal with these struggles.

So last night, I ached for what I had hoped for.

The Ugly:

The reason I finally met Linda this weekend is because her second child, Isaac, who is 17.5 months and just 2 months younger than Liana, was diagnosed with Leukemia last week Thursday.

When I heard that news, it was like someone ripped my heart out of my chest. Especially after hearing about this and this. No mother should have to see her baby sick.... let alone with cancer. No parent should lose their child. And the thought of my friend now going down this path and not knowing what might happen to her child? Terrifying.

So, I've been praying. Fervently. For Isaac. For Jacob. For Linda. For Gabrielle and Laney.

Please, pray with us. For Isaac to be a "rapid responder" to his chemo treatments. For his mommy and daddy to find some comfort and sanity in their days. For the help to continue pouring in. For Isaac's pain and discomfort to be minimal.

Life hasn't been very nice lately. Don't get me wrong.... it's better than the alternative... but I'm having a hard time dealing with all this pain people are having to go through. I just wish it didn't have to be this way.

Sunshine with a chance of clouds.

I'm not sure why, but tonight I'm feeling horribly anxious.

Maybe it has something to do with leaving Liana at my parents for the night. It's not that I worry about her.... it's just that I miss her when she's away from me. Now more than ever.

But more than likely, it probably has to do with the gray cloud that looms in front of my sunshine every once in a while.

Let's be honest here.... 95% of the time, I'm doing okay. I cried yesterday for a brief moment and I cried Monday night in an all-out sob but not just because of my loss.... because of their loss too.

95% of the time, I accept what's happened. 95% of the time, I feel like it happened forever ago and not just nineteen days ago. 95% of the time, I feel like I'm successfully moving forward.

But that other 5% of the time, I'm angry, sad, anxious, frustrated and confused.

And it seems that when one of those emotions is more prominent than another, it runs deep into my core. Sometimes it lasts for hours, sometimes for moments... but either way, it paralyzes me for as long as it lingers around.

I accept the loss of that baby. I accept the loss of that pregnancy. But the reminders... those are what kill me. Every reminder brings it to the surface again. I've tried to avoid certain reminders but there are some that I have no control over. I think those reminders are God's way of making me remember.

I just miss what "should" have been. I'm incredibly jealous of my friends who are 12,13,14 weeks pregnant and experiencing the things I "should" be experiencing. I see the ultrasound pics and I want that to be my baby on that screen. I see the belly pics and I want it to be my belly that's being shared with the world. I miss the feeling of having my baby within me because right now, my body feels like a room with a "vacancy" sign hanging on the front door.

I've never come out of a pregnancy with empty arms. It's an incredibly lonely feeling and a rotten ending to something that I had hoped would be so amazing. It's something I never expected to experience.

I know many of you are wondering when we'll start "trying" again. Well, I'm not quite sure yet. The planner in me wants to wait a few months because I'm not crazy about being 7 or 8 months pregnant throughout the hottest months of the year. But there's another part of me that says, "You planned with the last baby and look how that turned out. Let God decide and just take the leap."

My only concern with that is that we seem to get pregnant so easily. A terrible problem, I know. (That last statement was purely sarcastic, just so you know.)

And, I don't know that I feel right about getting pregnant again right away. I feel like that would be saying that this last baby wasn't important and can just be replaced. They can't. That baby left me with a hole that cannot be filled by anyone else.

I still miss that baby every.single.day.

Physically, I think we could get pregnant anytime. I haven't had a non-miscarriage related period yet, but my body has a way of telling me things and I think it's screaming "I'm ready!".

Emotionally, I just don't know that I'm ready.

So I hope that cures your curiosity. I think it helps to answer my own. (It's amazing what writing these feelings down does for me. Hello, moments of clarity.)

In less depressing news:

Liana is amazing. That little girl is my saving grace right now. She's into everything, like always, and her need for independence is causing this mama to have some mini heart attacks. Like, for example, Sunday night when she was desperately trying to get away from me on our bed and in the process fell off and landed on her head and neck. She gets smarter every day, like today when we were watching Baby Einstein and a picture of a table came onto the screen and before they introduced it, she said "table" all too clearly and then showed me how to say it in sign language. (Who says you can't learn anything from tv anyways?!) She's got a serious attitude at times but her sweetness wins out every time. The bottom line? I love the kid. She is my world.

The Kadzban's are keeping busy. Mike and I are both working full time this week which has been quite interesting. He's officially done with week #2 of coaching.... only four more months to go!!!! Next week I start my new schedule which will be Wed, Thur, and Fri every week. So far, I'm loving the change but it'll be interesting to see if that changes as I'm not quite off my "orientation" yet. And I can't even tell you how excited I am about being free from the weekend shift.... as much as I miss my coworkers and that position already, the freedom of having my weekend days back is amazing. This weekend, I have a baby shower (that I can actually go to!!!!) and next weekend, I'm thinking about taking a day trip with Mike to Birch Run. We're both so excited about actually being able to do these kinds of things together from here on out. :)

I love my friends. And I love our family. So that's always good.

So yes, the sunshine is definitely there and I promise, the clouds only come every once in a while.

And now, the CMA's, my husband, and some ice cream is calling my name.

A new path.

So as you know, Monday was a pretty tough day.

Yesterday, I had distractions. Good distractions. I worked all day in preparation to make the switch to my new role at SHH... case management social worker for our "northern" territory. Granted, this was only day #1 of learning this new role, but I find myself excited. I can't tell you how nice it was to have a scheduled day and not wonder when my pager is going to go off next or what crisis I might walk into.

I also can't tell you just how much I'm going to miss my weekend position. I'm going to miss the hospital because the things you see and experience there can't be found anywhere else. I'm going to miss my team... there's only a few of us on the "weekend option" and I feel like we're a puzzle that fits perfectly together because most of us have worked together for so long. Yes, we drive each other nuts at times, but I can honestly say that I'm going to miss everyone I've worked with for the past 25 months. I'm going to miss the freedom and independence of setting my own schedule (for the most part) and not knowing where my day might take me next. I'm especially going to miss the pay because working 2 days a week and getting paid for 4 is amazing. I'm going to miss the fact that I didn't have to rely on anyone else to take care of Liana while I worked because Mike was always there when I wasn't... and now, I'm having to count on others to care for the most important person in the world to me.

Yes, I'm going to miss weekend option. Sometimes I seriously wonder if I'll regret leaving it. But then I look at Liana and Mike and I realize just how much I miss having time with both of them. How much I miss my husband. How much I miss being able to go to Sunday morning mass or to the mall with my family. I realize how many moments we'll be able to share together instead of apart. How much I want to be able to coparent instead of feeling like a single parent most of the time. And when I think about all those things, I realize it'll all be worth it.

This Saturday is my final day on weekend option. Honestly, it felt like it would never come. Now that it's here, I'm not sure how I feel.... excited and scared. But Sunday, when I wake up and realize I have no work responsibilities, I'm sure the excitement will take over.

Next week should be a busy week around here. I'll be training full time and working 4-10 hour days. Mike has started his coaching season and already, I'm not loving it. Remind me again why I caved for one more year?! It's tricky balancing the whole "working mother" thing... especially when he's busy with hockey and can't help too much. But once tryouts slow down and the regular season starts, I hope that we find a more natural flow to things.

I'm feeling quite anxious these days. Most days, the pervasive question in my mind is, "Why me? Why my pregnancy? Why my baby?".

I was talking with Ashley about this yesterday because for the first time, I felt really angry with God on Monday. Throughout this loss, I've felt lots of anger but it was never really directed at anyone in particular. But Monday was different. Ashley, who's in her own high risk pregnancy with twins and 23 weeks today, comforted me. We talked about how someday, when we walk through those gates of Heaven, we'll have a sit-down conversation and hope that He gives us some answers. But in reality, I already know two of these answers.

First, I think God wanted to make me a better mother. Now granted, I'm not the best mom I can be right now. But I can tell you one thing.... I'm more thankful for Liana than I ever have been. I look at her as a miracle. My miracle. I think about how much I love her and how I can't imagine never having known her.... like I'll never know the baby we lost just a few short days ago. And when you're thankful for your child.... really, truly, thankful to your core for your child.... you love them more. You love them deeply. More deeply than you ever thought you could.

And I'm certain that this kind of love doesn't come without a price. I think that baby was our price.

I know that with our next pregnancy, I'll be less cautious, less hesitant, less nervous about having another child. I'll be more excited, more joyful, more comfortable with the idea of having two. Because the alternative isn't what I want. I was really scared about adding to our family for those first 8 weeks. I was scared about having two kids depend on me for their every need. I was worried about how Liana would adjust to the transition of having to share her attention. And I wasn't looking forward to the aches, pains, and sleepless nights again. But no more. I know now how much of a blessing a happy, healthy pregnancy and a happy, healthy baby truly is. I know that it shouldn't be taken for granted. I know that it can happen to me so when it doesn't, I'll be relieved beyond words.

My next pregnancy, should I be so lucky, will be different. There won't be room for fear... only excitement. Only joy.

Second, I think God wanted to show me that I'm not indestructible. That life isn't all sunshine and roses... because lets be honest, my life has been blessed. I think that He felt I needed a reality check... and maybe I did. I wish it hadn't come in the form of losing my child, but that was His decision. I hope someday He tells me why this became a part of my story and I hope that I continue to learn from the lesson He's trying to teach me.

As I walk this path I've been put on, I'm trying to soak in the new scenery. Understand my new surroundings. Thankfully, Mike and Liana are walking this path with me as are many of our friends and family members. But no matter what, I know one thing.... this event has changed me. It's changed my story forever. It'll always be a part of me and if I must go through this, I wouldn't want that to be any other way.

I guess sometimes the ground can shift beneath your feet. Sometimes your footing slips and you stumble. And sometimes, you grab what's closest to you and hold on as tight as you can.

Day Eight, Nine, and Ten.

Because I don't want to be completely depressing, I'll start off with the good.

I went back to work this weekend. I was terribly anxious to do it.... I wasn't sure how I'd feel when I walked into that first visit. Nor did I know how I'd feel training my replacement. But the weekend went smoothly and work ended up being a healthy distraction for a while. There were moments that I walked into situations and thought, "If only you knew what I'm dealing with right now..." but overall, things were okay. Thankfully, I didn't find my job any harder to do than it usually is and I appreciated not only the distraction, but the normalcy of it all too.

Saturday night, I rushed home after my last visit to get Liana ready for trick or treating. I needed those moments more than ever.... to celebrate something, to see "a first" and be a part of it. While she hated getting into her costume and fought us pretty fiercely in the process of putting it on, once we took her outside to see all the other kids in their costumes she warmed up to the event of trick or treating pretty quickly. It's like she finally realized, "Hey, my mom and dad aren't just torturing me by putting me in this ridiculous outfit after all.... this is pretty cool!" We only went to a few houses but the minute she saw a lollipop in her bag, she couldn't resist.

 Daddy and Liana.... her shirt from Grandma says "I'm so cute it's scary!". :)

 Watching for the trick or treaters...

 Loving on her tootsie pop!

Sunday was busy. I started out the day feeling fine... but as the day progressed, I started having some sharp pains in my abdomen along with feeling very weak and achy. I finished up my charting and sent my last voicemail at 7:59 and then climbed into bed immediately. I was beyond the point of tired. Apparently, after seven days of laying on the couch, my body was angry with me for working this weekend.

And now for the depressing part. I'll apologize in advance....

But today sucked.

I can't stop crying, which I suppose might be a good thing.

Well, at least I know I'm not numb or cold hearted.

Honestly, this weekend I kept asking myself, "Am I really over this already?!" I felt absolutely fine. Yes, there were moments that were hard because of the reminders... like taking my methergine (which contracts the uterus to push any other remaining tissues out) in the middle of visits, or going to the bathroom and seeing the image of what's happening to my body, and putting on a coat that I had bought for this winter because it would've been a great maternity coat to suddenly realize that it no longer serves that intended purpose.... but overall, I felt fine. I didn't cry. I didn't dwell. I just moved forward.

And then today, I just didn't feel fine anymore.

I woke up exhausted. Achy from the toll this weekend and the miscarriage has taken on my body. I went into work for a meeting and saw the rest of my social work team... which I won't lie, sent me reeling. I love my team for how supportive and caring they are of me. But while walking into that building and having people tell me how they've been thinking about me was reassuring, it also stirred my emotions. I wasn't prepared for that at all.

This afternoon only got worse from there.

I looked at pictures of a few of my facebook friends today who are pregnant.... some of whom are due right around the time I should've been. And it hit me like a ton of bricks.

(Disclaimer....facebook friends, it's not my intention to make you feel guilty for what you have and I don't at this moment. It's just that certain things are a trigger for my grief, including your pictures. However, never would I want you to censor me from these... I want to share in your moments and be joyful for you but in the process, I need you to understand that I mourn for me.) 

Tomorrow should have been 12 weeks.

I should be taking these belly pictures.


I should be feeling the excitement of pregnancy.

I should be feeling the nausea and exhaustion, but most of all, the joy and anticipation.

I should be thankful for the blessing of a healthy pregnancy instead of mourning over the loss of one.

Instead, I'm doing none of these things. I feel more empty than ever before. I feel like a part of my heart is honestly missing. Like a part of me is gone and I'll never get it back.

My sister and I went to Target so that I could escape things for just a little while. It didn't work.

We walked by the maternity section and I had to stop myself from breaking down.

While picking up some stuff for Liana, I walked through the baby section to look for an outfit for Ashley's boys. I saw the crib bedding sets and blankets and my knees buckled. Because just a few weeks ago, I was shopping for new crib sets and blankets in case we were having a boy.

And as Liana melted down in the middle of Target, I wanted to melt down with her. "I know, life is rough Liana. Trust me, I know." (Which of course was said in a completely sarcastic tone, because well, she was fussing over absolutely nothing. Welcome to 5pm in the Kadzban world.)

We came home. And I just held it together the best that I could until Mike walked in that door at 7:15. And then, I checked out.... something I've been doing often these days.

It's so hard to take care of Liana when I can barely take care of myself. Part of me says, "Suck it up Haley. You gotta get it together." But the reality is, I feel depressed and sad. If I could lay on that couch all day and lose myself in TV, I would. If I could eat ice cream for every meal, I would. It's hard to play with your child when you don't feel joyful and happy. So instead, we muster through the tough days and tough moments.

Let me say that we do have joyful moments together. I love my daughter now more than ever. But the reality is that I'm sad right now. I'm angry. And I feel like most of the time I'm barely keeping my head above the water.

I just ache for what would have been. I feel like something has been stolen from me.... my baby. my joy. my excitement. my hopefulness.

My heart is heavy today for the child that should have been under it.

Day Seven.

As I sit at my keyboard, I find myself unsure of what to say. But I want to write... I want to say something. Because if I don't, I might explode.

I feel really anxious right now. I'm alone. I just finished last night's episode of Grey's, so I have nothing to distract me. I could take a nap because I'm exhausted, but I don't want to lay down.

So I'm left to think.

Think about yesterday. Think about today. Think about tomorrow and all the tomorrows down the road.

I think about the relief I feel. Right now, the physical pain is gone. However, I spoke with  Dr. LaGrand this morning and I have to take a medication for the next three days that will cause my uterus to contract and push out anything that may be remaining in there. It shouldn't be any worse than typical period cramping... but still, after a week of being in pain and dealing with this, I'm not eager to restart things. The relief is good and I don't want it to be short-lived.

I think about how yesterday was one of the most traumatic and painful days of my life. Once the tissues were passed though, the intense pain I felt (which was far worse than any contraction I had while giving birth to Liana and lasted a solid 45 minutes) subsided instantly and just left me with some cramping. Last night, I kept myself busy to keep my mind off things... not because I wanted to avoid those feelings but I just wanted to avoid them for the moment. The physical pain had taken everything out of me that I had to give.... I couldn't give myself to the emotional pain too.

But I also think about the fact that I didn't want to go to bed last night because I knew what would happen as soon as I climbed into those sheets. And as I did and I thought about the day that had unfolded.... I just clung to Mike. Well, first I got up and took a xanax and then I clung to Mike. ;)

I think about what I told him.  "I feel relieved it's over, but I just feel so empty now." While I needed the physical relief, I wasn't prepared for the emotions I felt once our baby was gone. As I laid in bed and talked to Mike, all I could think about was how empty and alone I now felt. How I now feel like a piece of me was actually missing. That I'll never see, feel, or hear that baby again.

Physically, it's over. Emotionally, it's far from so.

I just really miss my baby. I'm okay that God decided to take him/her.... I've accepted that part. But it doesn't make me miss them any less.

Today, I think I'm still in shock. I woke up, played with Liana, had Jenny and Caleb over. I was able to talk about everything without crying. I was able to laugh with Jenny and at our kids. Mike texted me to ask if I'd feel up to bringing Liana into work this afternoon in her costume to trick or treat... and I said I would and actually felt excited about it for a moment.

So there are moments where I feel okay. But I also feel the waves coming at me. Like in this instant, my heart flutters as I write because feeling okay doesn't feel right. It feels like an oxymoron. Because I'm not okay, but somehow there are moments where I feel okay. (Geeze, this is confusing for me. I can only imagine how confusing it must be for any of you.) I wonder to myself if that's the shock of it all. I worry about when it might hit me.... will it be when I decide to go back to work and I walk into my first visit? Or will that be a good distraction? Will it be when I stop bleeding? Or will that be the final release to all of this? Will it come in the middle of the day, when no one is around? Or might it happen in a room full of family and friends?

My best friend Megan... who, might I add is my favorite social worker ever.... and I were talking last night. I verbalized my concerns to her over how I was coping. You see.... I know grief. I do grief. It's my job. So I know what's normal coping and what's not.... or at least I think I do. But she reassured me. She reminded that while I may not be crying as much as I think I should, I am processing this loss. In a way that most don't. I talk. I write. I think and I don't hold back those thoughts. And I realized she was right. I still wish I could cry more over this.... I feel guilty not crying more over this... but I'm sure that if I pent up all of these emotions, they'd come screaming out in tears. But I don't do well with penting up emotions... if you know me, you know that. So here we are. You and me. Talking about my emotions. Letting most of it out in words so that it doesn't all come out in tears.

I know the tears will come. They always do.

In the mean time, we'll have these talks. They may be one-sided for the most part, but they mean everything to me right now.

Also, thank you for the support and the prayers. Only a few people know this, but I have a hard time praying for myself. So knowing that you're all praying for me means the world.

Last but not least, I'm thankful God intervened yesterday. I was okay with the D&C but I'm happy God took that choice out of my hands.

"These are my footprints,
so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints
never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny footprint,
for now I have wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
for other things.
You will hear my tiny footprints,
in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angel's tears,
of joy and not from pain.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
if you just give me the chance.
You will see my tiny footprints,
in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
and call each one that grieves.
Most of all, these tiny footprints,
are found on Mommy and Daddy's hearts.
'Cause even though I'm gone now,
We'll never truly part."

"Daddy please don't look so sad,momma please don't cry.
Cause I'm in the arms of Jesus, and he sings me lullabies.
please try not to question God, don't think he is unkind.
Don't think he sent me to you and then changed his mind.
You see I'm a special child, I am needed up above.
I'm the special gift you gave Him, a product of your love.
I'll always be there with you, so watch the sky at night.
Look for the brightest star and know that's my halo's brilliant light.
You'll see me in the morning frost that mists your window pane.
That's me in the summer showers, I'll be dancing in the rain.
When you feel a gentle breeze from a gentle wind that blows.
Know that it's me planting a kiss upon your nose.
When you see a child playing and your heart feels a tug,
Don't be sad mommy, that's just me giving your heart a hug.
So daddy don't looks so sad and momma please don't cry.
I'm in the arms of Jesus and he sings me lullabies!"

Day Six.

And so it was, Thursday, October 28th, 2010.

The day I miscarried our second child.

At 11 weeks, 2 days.

Right now, after an intensely painful afternoon (honest to God, worse than childbirth), I'm drained. At this moment, all I feel is physical relief that it's over.

But now, my heart is slowly recognizing that I am missing a child. Slowly soaking in what actually happened at 3pm this afternoon. Slowly soaking in that with the fifty other pictures on our refrigerator, this baby's sweet face will never be. Slowly soaking in that this sense of relief may be short-lived.

Slowly soaking in the gravity of it all. That while it may be over physically, it's far from over emotionally.

Because our baby is officially gone.

Day Five.

Yes, I'm here.

But sometimes, it feels like I'm barely hanging on. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without Mike and especially, Liana. My angel baby here on Earth.

Today was, with all certainty, one of the worst days of my life. And I'm sure that the following days will include at least a few more that can be added to that list.

We had our doctors appointment this morning which was quite disappointing. No new information as our baby slowly deteriorates still in my belly. Think about that one for a second if you will... it's viciously awful.

I haven't known how to update since Monday. In all reality, I'm still numb most of the time. I lose myself and the reality of my current situation by sitting in front of the tv and focusing in on everyone else's problems.... for instance, Derek and Meredith trying to weave their way through the details of dating on Grey's Anatomy. It works for a while, but then there are moments where it just hits me.

Currently, I'm going through one of the most physically and emotionally painful times of my life.

Physically, this baby is still with me. Afternoons seem to be worse... I cramp terribly, bleed more heavily, and just find myself very uncomfortable. I never knew that miscarrying was a process that could last so long.... for some women, this goes on for weeks. The thought of that being my experience terrifies me because as much as I don't want to let me baby go, I also need to move forward. For myself, for Mike, for our families... but mostly, for Liana. It kills me that I'm having to depend on others to be here with us right now because I'm terrified of being alone with her. I worry that my body will finally decide to miscarry when it's just the two of us here and from what I've heard from other moms who have experienced this, that's less than an ideal situation. In the mean time, Mike and my mom are having to take time off from their lives and their jobs to accommodate me and when there aren't "results", I tend to feel even more angry and frustrated than I already am. It's so much less than ideal.... it's a nightmare. I just want to take care of myself and my child again without having to rely on anyone else's sacrifices to do so.

Emotionally, things continue to process.

As I said earlier, this morning was especially tough. We had our appointment with the doctor and I wasn't prepared for what I'd feel when I walked into that office again. Sitting down in the waiting room, I thought about the last time I was there; with Liana and Mike in tow, for our 8 week visit, watching Liana play at the kids table as we waited to get called back for our ultrasound. The minute they called my name and I stood up to walk to the back, I lost it. The nurse was so kind as I said to her in tears, "We were just here and everything was so good then. I can't believe how fast it all changed." She consoled me before leaving the room, at which point Mike took over.

Our doctor entered the room with a look of disappointment on his face. We talked about the harsh realities of miscarriage and about the options ahead of me. Things felt a little rushed and I know he was running behind for the day, but this was the one time I needed him the most to really sit there and talk me through everything. (It was disappointing, I won't deny it. However, I still have all the faith in him as he comes so highly recommended.) He did another ultrasound and at 11 weeks 1 day, our baby now measures 7 weeks 4 days. I was paralyzed by the reality that my baby is actually breaking down within my body... a place that was supposed to be safe for him/her. I saw on the ultrasound screen that the placenta is starting to break down also, which shows progress. However, we discussed the option of a D&C anyways.

Let me say that going into today, I was quite hesitant about the D&C. On the way to the appointment, I expressed to Mike that I'd like to let my body do this on its own. However, now I'm more on the fence.

At this point, I need you to know that I'm not looking for opinions here, so kindly keep those to yourself. I've done the research and I'm not one to make an uneducated decision, so be comforted in knowing that whatever I decide to do, it's with my needs in mind. Mike has said that he just wants me to do what I feel is best for myself and has promised me that he'll support me no matter what my decision is. He realizes that I'm the one suffering most from all of this because like I said in a previous post, he hadn't yet emotionally or physically connected to our baby while I had done both.

There are a thousand reasons behind why I'm taking the route that I am. But ultimately, we have scheduled a D&C for Monday morning. We were given the option to have it done sooner, but that would've felt too rushed and too pressured. Plus, it scares me that if I had it done before the weekend came along and then complications arose, I wouldn't be able to go to Dr. LaGrand as he's not on call this weekend. Monday is nine days after I first started bleeding, so I'm giving my body the time I hope it needs to do this on it's own. But if it doesn't, this is my backup plan and I feel safe and secure in that. For now, most importantly, I also feel peace with that decision and should that change, I can always just cancel.

After talking to our doctor and multiple mothers who have miscarried, most of whom have had a D&C for one reason or another, I decided this was the right choice for me. It allows my body the chance to do this on it's own but it also provides me with a backup plan because emotionally and physically, I just can't do this without a time line. I need closure. I need to know that I can start moving forward.

Right now, that's especially hard to do because I'm so focused on the physical aspect of miscarrying that it's been hard to focus on the emotional aspect of miscarrying. Which I'm ready to process but just can't do.

In addition, I know that either way is going to be traumatic. If I miscarry here at home, I'll always have that visualization in my mind because from what I've been told.... and I'm sorry for getting graphic here but it's the only way for anyone who hasn't experienced this to understand... it can only be described as "giving birth" to fetal tissues and a placenta while sitting on the toilet and bleeding heavily. I don't know that I can handle that moment and that image in my mind. I don't like the idea of a D&C and what it entails but I have to remind myself that my baby is gone... it's only the tissues that remain. And I feel safe with the doctors there so if anything goes wrong, I'm in good hands. Because ultimately, the only thing that matters is that Liana's mommy comes home to her.

There are risks with both options. So, I'm putting it in God's hands until Monday because I need to get back to normalcy... back to my life, back to my daughter, back to work.

So, there it is. Our plan at this moment. It could all change in an instant and I'm okay with that.

As for yesterday, I didn't cry at all... until 10pm. When I finally decided to stop distracting myself and sit down to finish my Belly Book for Baby #2.... 31 weeks too early.

I thought about just throwing it away, but that didn't feel right. This baby was mine. He/she will always be a part of me. He/she deserves to have a belly book as just one memento to remember them by. So I printed off my belly pictures. Glued the ultrasound picture in there.
 Printed off the last few days of posts from this blog to add into it. And as I looked at it once it was done, I lost it. So many hopes and dreams were lost when that baby died. I looked at all the empty pages that I won't be able to complete and just cried. Mike heard me from the living room where he was working and came to sit with me. We cried together.

The grief really does sneak up on you sometimes. I know this is fresh, but I still have a hard time believing just how intense it is and how a single thought can bring you to your knees.

Usually, a pregnancy ends with a baby in your arms. My pregnancy is over but my arms are empty and that aches to my core. I have Liana and Mike... who are my everything... but I feel like a part of my heart is just empty for that child and what would have been.

So, that's where I'm at today.

Please pray that my decisions are best for me and my family and that if they aren't, God intervenes.

Day Three.

There's no other way to describe today other than.... weird.

Physically, I'm not in a great place. I cramped a lot today and was pretty uncomfortable at times. With it came more bleeding and more clots.... but still, not what I would consider enough for a miscarriage.

I called the doctor first thing this morning (8:45) and notified the nurse of what happened this weekend. With an "oh this poor girl" tone in her voice, she explained that the doctor was in surgery and wouldn't be in the office until 1:00. She said she'd talk to him once he got back and fill him and then call to let me know when he wanted to see me. Finally, at 4 pm, I called back myself simply because Mike needed to know how to plan for his Tuesday. After talking with the doctor she said they'd like to see me on Wednesday to do another ultrasound and see how things have progressed.

I am so thankful now that I went into that ER on Saturday. I can't even imagine how beside myself I would've been today had I "waited until Monday" like the on-call doc told me to and then got denied a visit.... the same visit that would've told me that my baby had in fact died.

Mike stayed home with me today. He's been such a rock for me these past three days. I may complain about him at times (I mean, he did ask me yesterday morning if he could play hockey last night... no joke...) but God I love that man.

Yesterday, we didn't talk about the baby. Today, we did.

Overall, I'd say that yesterday was rotten. I had company but I wasn't in a good place emotionally for company. As the day went on, I got angrier and angrier. Finally, at 6pm, I changed my mind and actually asked Mike to go to hockey. I just needed the time alone and with my thoughts. And he needed it too. He needed to get out of this house and to do something that made him feel good. I put Liana to bed and then took some time to myself. Only then, after nearly 12 hours and while posting my blog from last night, did I cry. I needed it too.

Today was just weird.

I slept fine. I woke up fine. I colored with Liana, sat around, made lunch. I felt a little dazed and confused at times, but otherwise, no dramatics on my end. (Liana? That's a different story....)

And during naptime, we talked.

I don't feel like I should repeat what Mike said he was feeling because me sharing my feelings for the world to see is very different than me sharing his feelings for the world to see. (See? I do have boundaries!) But I can tell you that he's primarily concerned about me and not as much for himself. While he was excited about our pregnancy, he wasn't yet as connected to that baby as I was. Not surprising at all seeing as the guy doesn't really get to experience the physical changes of pregnancy.

But I realized a lot today about how I'm feeling.

First of all, I'm really struggling with the whole crying aspect of things. Like I've said a few times already, I just feel numb. I want to cry, I feel like I should cry, but the tears just don't flow.

I mean, I watched Oprah today for pete's sake. An episode about a mom and dad who lost all three of their children in a car accident. Two girls and a boy. And then were given the miracle of triplets a year later. Two girls and a boy. Now any other day, I'd be bawling like a baby. But today? Stone cold and not cool.

Part of me wonders if my job has built a wall so high that my emotions can't get through. I mean, my job is to not cry. To be strong for everyone else. To see loss everyday and be the strong one. I've wondered for a long time if I was just having really good boundaries or just being cold to the gravity of it all. Now, I wonder.... do I even know how to grieve?

On Saturday night after we got home from the ER, I spoke with my friend Stephanie (who also miscarried her little one last month at 10.5 weeks) and we talked frankly about how this feels. I asked when it hit her. For her, it was after the physical aspect of it all was "done". She endured the miscarriage.... and then the meds given to induce contractions... and finally a D&C. She said that it wasn't until the physical aspect of the miscarriage was over that it finally hit her.... which I fully believe and honestly think is the same thing I'm experiencing.

Right now, I'm just thinking about the miscarriage. I'm thinking about the cramps, about the bleeding, about the doctors appointment. And when those parts are in my past and there's no distraction left, I think the emotional aspect of miscarriage will hit me. And probably like a ton of bricks.

I also realized today that a piece of Mike and I, someone we created and already loved, is someone we'll never hold. Someone that we'll never know. That child's feet will never walk this earth or pitter patter through our house. I won't feel their kicks, won't hear their voice, won't welcome them to this world. In other words, the reality of the pregnancy... or lack thereof now... hit me. Even more poignant, we have a child in heaven. Someone waiting for us. That realization is really intense. It leaves me feeling connected to my faith in a way I never have. Because quite honestly, this is the first big loss I've ever experienced. My own baby.  A part of me.

I struggled with something else today, too.

I was once that girl. The one who thought, "You weren't even that far along. You didn't even get to know your baby. Should this really be so hard?"

God, it kills me now. Because now I understand all too well. And it kills me to think that there are friends of mine out there who might be thinking what I once thought. People who don't understand why I need to put these feelings out there. People who don't understand how hard this is and how it will forever affect who I am.

I know I didn't lose a child. I'm not the mom who lost her 5 year old to cancer... her 16 year old to a car accident.... her newborn to a congenital defect. But I'm a mom who lost her baby. A baby that she already had hopes and dreams about. A baby that she was already so excited to meet and hold. I'm the mom who had a baby that never got a chance.

I struggle with putting my emotions out there for others to judge. I know it might be a consequence of sharing all of these emotions but the real reason I put this all out there is for others to understand. To understand who I am right now. To understand what I'm going through. To understand what I've lost and why this hurts so badly.

I just hope... and seriously pray... that people try to understand me and not judge me. It's the best gift anyone can give me at this point and all I can ask for.

Tomorrow, I'm on my own for the day. I'm scared to be here without Mike and for Liana to count on me for her every need right now. I made Mike promise that if he went to work, that he'd come home if I needed him. He did. So we'll see how this goes. I guess I have to stand on my own two feet at some point.... hopefully I'm ready.