Black + White = Gray.

I've been thinking all week about how to write this post. How to word exactly what I have to say and feel.

But there are so many words that I'm sure I won't be able to fit my feelings into one small post... regardless of how small it seems to all of you.

Last year, October was a highly anticipated month. I was so focused on being 36 weeks pregnant when the 1st rolled around that I didn't have the mindset to think about anything else. I was focused on October 27th, the date of our scheduled C-section and the expected birthdate of Lukas. As we got closer and closer to that date, the anticipation just grew and grew. All I could think about was Lukas and finally being able to hold him in my arms.

This year however, October has been an incredibly tough month for me. The minute it rolled around it was like a switch flipped inside this head of mine. I had so many things on my mind... my changing job, the house, the kids, the husband, my daily responsibilities... but one thing was always lingering in the back of it.... the miscarriage.

Two years later and it feels like yesterday.

I guess with all the chaos of last October and the anticipation of Lukas's arrival, I didn't have a chance to give it much thought. I'm paying for it this year.

It's hit me like a ton of bricks all over again. Not in a tearful way, just in a "I can't stop thinking about it" kind of way. I think about the 23rd and what it felt like to wake up that day pregnant and go to bed at the end of the day knowing my baby was dead inside me. I think about those moments in the ER... the moments I spent on the phone with two of my closest friends... the moments of sheer terror and desperation. I think about it all. It seriously plays like a movie in my mind because I remember it all. Every detail.

And for those of you who know me well, you know I'm terrible with details.

I think about the next four days and how my mom and Mike had to take turns taking PTO to stay home with Liana and I. I couldn't be left alone in the event that I started to actually miscarry because an 18 month old needs supervision - supervision I wouldn't be able to give her during that time.

I think about the 28th and how my family came over for lunch. I started feeling poorly as we ate and once everyone (but my mom) had left, I layed down. The cramps came on quickly and strong. At 3:30, I found myself screaming in agony on the toilet begging my mom to call the doctor. I remember thinking, "Am I going to die?" because it hurt that badly. I remember the feeling of everything leaving my body at once and realizing that what was left of my baby was in the toilet water below me. I remember having to put on gloves and pulling the tennis ball sized "mass" out of the toilet for Mike to take to the doctor so that they knew whether everything had come out or not. (It did.) I remember feeling emotionally dead for the rest of the day.

I remember going back to work two days later, walking into hospital rooms and trying to console family members of my patients while thinking to myself, "If only you knew....". I remember going into the hospital bathroom to take pills that would help my uterus contract so that we could be sure everything was out.

So last year, I didn't remember but this year I remember it all. I can't stop remembering. I wish I could.

I think that one of the worst parts of all of this is that the date I actually lost the baby falls just one day after the birth of my newest baby, Lukas Ryan.

Had I realized how much these dates would affect me, I would've scheduled the c-section for a few days later. Or on my actual due date of 11.3.

I feel like on the date which I should be entirely focused on Lukas, my mind is also elsewhere. It feels like he is really getting a raw deal.

The 27th = White. The day I celebrate the birthday of my little boy.
The 28th = Black. The day I mourn the loss of a baby I never got to meet.
Mix the two together and you have a whole lot of gray.

Sure, I try to focus on the celebration. My son means the world to me. I wouldn't give him up for anything. But I'd be a liar if I said my mind didn't shoot elsewhere every once in a while when these dates roll around.

I wonder whether this was the plan. I wonder whether God set this up to give me some reprieve & a cause for celebration in an otherwise hard week. I know one thing: when Mike and I started trying again after the miscarriage, it never once crossed my mind that I could have a baby 364 days after the loss of my last one. Had I known how things would evolve, I probably would have waited another month or two because I hate having these two events so closely tied together.

Then again, it sometimes seems fitting that they're close together because I wouldn't have one without the other.

The fact that this hit me again so hardly this year was unexpected to say the least. It's not that I ever "got over" the miscarriage but it felt like I had moved on from it. I guess this just goes to show that what they say about grief being a rollercoaster is true.... one day you're high, the next you can be low. I know it'll get better and I'm thankful that I'm emotionally healed enough that these thoughts haven't left me in tears.

I also know many people probably read/hear my words about miscarriage and think to themselves, "I just don't get why this was such a big deal. She was only 11 weeks." I'll admit, I often wonder that myself. But all I can say to that is this was a big deal to me. Every woman handles this loss differently..... I know many women who haven't talking openly about their miscarriages and seemed to move forward without ever looking back. I'm not them. I can't do that. And I know full well that there are other women, even some I know, that have experienced much greater losses. My heart aches for them because I know that as hard as this has been for me, it would have been even harder had I been farther along like they were when they lost their babies.

A friend sent this to me the yesterday:

It's a print she found on Etsy and I have to admit, it made me smile. It also almost made me cry but I was too busy getting ready for Lukas's party to cry, so I didn't.

This print, in all it's simplicity, was incredibly reassuring and comforting.

I have Liana & Lukas here on earth to cherish and a baby in heaven that awaits me. While I never got to meet that baby, I know he/she was born into good and safe hands. It's thoughts like that that help me move forward.

Here's to hoping November is a better month.....

And up next... Lukas is one. Stay tuned. :)

The build is on!!!

October 8th, 2012...

We have a hole!

After weeks... errrr, months...  of finalizing certain details and going back and forth with our builder on a few things, we finally have a hole! Thank you Jesus!

Honestly, who would have thought a hole could conjure up so much excitement in this girl?

Looking at that freshly dug hole felt a lot like... well, coming home. Because for almost two months now, with at least five still to go, I've felt like we've been living in limbo. Sure, we have a roof over our head. But this home isn't our home. These walls are bare. We have no pictures up. The furniture we sit on each day and each night isn't our own.

Worse of all, Liana has recently started making comments like, "I miss our old house." Even she knows this house isn't our own. Probably because it's missing one key component... that purple bedroom of hers. :)

That hole is a promise of things still to come. It's just the beginning of something that is going to be wonderful... our home. One that we've poured ourselves into even before the first walls were poured. One that Mike and I intend to raise our children in and retire in.

This is it... no turning back now! So excited!



Love that view!

  

I have no idea what that ditch will be. Such a smart little builder I am. ;)



Our big ol' dirt pile. I bet the neighbors were a bit surprised when they got home today!



Basement :)



Changes upon changes.

"If you're gonna make a change, you're gonna have to operate from a new belief that says life happens not to me, but for me." 

-Tony Robbins-

Change. It often comes when we least expect it.

Almost two weeks ago now, I was sitting in a morning meeting when I received a text from my job share partner, Meg, asking if we could meet up after my meeting. It wasn't like her to text me while I was working because when I'm working, she's not. Even more so, she had never asked me to meet up on such short notice. Both of these things being out of her character, I knew something was up. Throughout the rest of that meeting I couldn't help but wonder what was going on and while I thought I had an idea as to what she would want to meet about (that couldn't wait and needed to be shared in person instead of over the phone), I was quickly surprised by the conversation that unfolded.

Almost two weeks ago now, my work-life as I know it was turned upside down. In five simple words, in less than one minute, everything changed.

"I've decided to leave hospice."

I remember feeling as though time stood still after she said those few simple words. I had to repeat that sentence in my head a few times for it to truly sink in. As I did, the my internal conversation sounded a bit like this:

"Did she just say what I think she said? Did she just say she's leaving me? Yep, that's what she said. She's leaving me. How can she leave me? Wait wait wait... am I sure I heard her right? Is she really leaving? Yes, I heard it right. She's leaving. Well what the hell am I going to do now?"

And while I knew this day would eventually come, I wasn't expecting it so soon. The surprise felt a little like getting hit by a bus... which I have in fact experienced once before. :)

I tried to maintain my composure as we sat in that Biggby. I wasn't terribly successful.

"I'm so happy for you. I'm just so sad for me", I explained. Multiple times. In between the tears and the ugly cries.

I didn't want to make her feel bad. I still don't want to make her feel bad.

I am so happy for her. Seriously.

But for the past two years, we've had this amazing thing, her and I. She's been the icing to my cake. The tootsie to my roll. We're such different people but somehow we've built this incredible working relationship that I'm just so sad to let go of. She's the only person that understands what we do and how we do it well. When I need to debrief, she always picks up the phone even though she's not on the clock. When I need advice on how to handle a situation, she's always there to talk me through it. She helps me stay sane when I feel like I'm about to lose it.

That kind of support has been invaluable to me. She's taught me (almost) everything I know about case management.

For two days, it took everything in me to hold back the tears and to be honest, I wasn't all that successful. My long drive home at the end of each day were filled with them.

And she knew it. She knew this was hard on me without me even having to tell her. And she called to check in.

And listen to me cry... that same ugly cry, nonetheless. :)

The more I thought about it, the more I realized why this was so hard.

SHH has been a part of my life for four years now. And since the day I started, she was there. When I got hired in I was newly pregnant, nauseous and exhausted. While training me I confided this in her before anyone else and as she took me from visit to visit, she let me nap in the car while she drove. She taught me so much and was my go-to girl. Even when I was working weekends, I could call her if I had a tough case come up that I didn't know what to do with. She taught me the ropes about case management... how to balance my time and most importantly, my energy, between patients. Those teachings have been invaluable.

She's been my constant in a constantly changing work world. She's pulled me through some tough stuff, both personally and professionally.  She's always... always... had my back.

Even as she gave her resignation notice, she advocated for me to ensure that I wasn't going to get "screwed over" by her departure. She knew that this could be a good thing for me, even though the growing pains may hurt a little. Or a lot.

I realized last week that of all the things I've experienced while doing hospice work, losing her as my job share partner has been the hardest for each of these reasons.

We were so blessed to have this role together for the past two years. To have such a strong partnership and to have such complete trust in each other while we covered one another's caseloads during our "off" days.

I would've been naive to think that it would be like this forever. Change happens. It's the only constant in this crazy world of ours.

But that doesn't make it any less difficult. While growth is a good thing, it can also be a painful thing... hence the reason they're called "growing pains".

Thankfully, I'm starting to see that this change may be a blessing of it's own because now I'll be covering a territory much closer to home... Wyoming, Jenison, Grandville, Hudsonville. My (minimum) commute of 45 minutes will now be more like 5 minutes. My productivity will increase. I'll be able to chart at home rather than sit in a Meijer parking lot at the end of the day. I'll be able to stop home for lunch instead of buying it on the road.  I'll be closer to my kids in the event that they need me. My 8 hour days should be able to stay at 8 hours rather than somewhere between 10 and 12. And I'll be a better mom and a better wife because of it.

Leaving my "north team" has been a hard decision... one of my hardest work decisions to date, in fact. I'm leaving a team that I genuinely care for and respect both as colleagues and as friends. I'm leaving nurses that I love to work with. But in return, I'm getting time. Time with my kids. Time with Mike. Time for me.

That time is valuable in and of itself. It's one of the few things in life you can't get back.

So while change isn't easy and nothing is certain, I'm thankful for this path I'm on. I just hope that it's as good to me as the last one was. :)