Three's the number

I remember fondly, pressing on the right side of my belly just below my ribs. Annoyed at the invasion of her space, Aubree would kick back. I felt bad for annoying her, but loved the assurance that she was still with us. If she could just hold on for three more weeks she maybe had a chance at life in this world. Sadly, a chance that only would have come from another family experiencing profound loss and choosing organ donation, one Aubree would have needed to have been compatible with.

Three years ago today was the last time I left those kicks. The next day I would push on her foot, and she wouldn't kick back. Desperately searching for her heartbeat with a stethoscope would only reveal my own beating faster and faster as the reality of what was happening hit me.

Three weeks ago I felt a familiar rush of panic and excitement as that second pink line showed up. Three days later...it was over; before it really had a chance to begin.

This week I will turn 33. Aubree would be 3. And I wonder about the 3 little ones I never got the chance to know.

They say things come in 3's. Maybe that means someday soon we can get a third little one to join us here on earth. Aly has asked when we can have another baby. She told me since I call her "Pumpkin" and call J "Potato", she wants another sister that we can nickname "Peanut" :)

The Call?

It started years ago. When I was young, I would devour stories of foreign missionaries. One of my favorites was Amy Carmichael. I used to dream of one day rescuing kiddos and adopting them as my own.

Then I grew up. Career, married, kids. The foreign thing isn't happening, and the more I learn about it the less I want to adopt from another country. But I hold out hope for fostering someday. It's always been a part of my life plan. I just need to convince DH to get on board 😉

Last Saturday, I was just hanging out at home with DH. The thoughts and noise in my head reached a crescendo and broke.

Silence.

And then, a still, small voice. "What if you fostered LGBT kids, specifically? What if you sought them out - on purpose - to show them unconditional love?"

I brushed it off. This definitely wasn't the time to bring it up to DH. We were exhausted from the crazy week, and both went to sleep shortly after.

But the thought never left my mind. It's stayed there, nagging at me. If I really want LGBT equality in society and in the church, why NOT step up to the plate, so to speak.

And then tonight, on my way home from work, I heard this. And I cried all the way home.

Where we go from here, I am not sure. But what I do know is this - I cannot ignore where my heart is leading.

Happy Birthday!

Jaydon Thomas was born early yesterday afternoon. 6lbs 4oz and 18" long. He's a tiny little peanut like his sister was :)

We got to the hospital at 6am for our induction appointment. They got us checked into a delivery room and started the pitocin around 7:15am. We settled in thinking this would take awhile. I was really concerned an induction would take longer than my previous labors, especially since we were booting Jaydon out a couple weeks early, and I wanted to do everything I could to avoid that.

I already knew I would get a epidural at some point, so I signed the consent forms and the nurse said to let her know when I was ready for it. Knowing I could "tap out" whenever I needed to, I tried to work with the medicine and contractions as much as possible to help labor progress. Since I wasn't allowed to walk due to the monitoring for Jaydon, I stood by the side of the bed or used a yoga ball to help keep myself as upright as possible through the contractions. As the contractions became stronger, I started to focus more and breathe through them. No moaning or crying - no noises at all. I was zeroed in on the task at hand and seriously focused. At about 11 I had enough and asked for the epi so I could rest for awhile.

I could still feel the pressure of the contractions, but the epi took away the pain. I laid back and tried to rest for awhile. I watched the heart rate monitor as my contractions came and went and quickly figured that Jaydon had the cord around his neck. His heart rate got lower and lower as the contractions got stronger. The nurse also noticed his heart rate from the monitors, and she came in and rolled me to my side to help relieve the pressure on him. The movement was enough to move him into position, though, and I told the her that he was ready. After checking to confirm, she called the doctor and we were ready to go!

While they were all getting ready, I started to panic and cry. This was it. This was the finish line. Would he come out crying? Was he OK? Flashbacks of Aubree's completely silent birth crashed over me as I sobbed. But I quickly willed myself into composure and focused even more than I had before. I don't really remember much of the commotion around me. The nurse told me I could do a couple of practice pushes and I think my body just took over. I didn't make a sound - just breathed through the pressure and focused on strong, even, controlled pushes. The doctor joked that she was having a hard time knowing what I was doing because I wasn't talking or making any indication that I was in pain. In the last two pushes the heart rate monitor on Jaydon went completely silent. And then he was out at 12:53 - just over five and a half hours from the time we started!

He had the cord around his neck once and was very purple - and not crying. The doctor started to clean him off and he began to fuss a bit. No strong cries, but he was making sounds!! They laid him on me and continued to clean him up. As soon as I started talking to him he was quiet again :) I think I got my wish for a cuddly baby. He's very content as long as he's being held, and he prefers to have momma holding him.

Jaydon means "God has heard." Every tear along the way. Every fear - rational or not. Every time I dared to hope that things would be OK this time. And every time I cried from guilt because I knew Jaydon wouldn't be here if Aubree still was. We reached the finish line of the longest trial we've endured so far. Nine months of dancing between grief, joy, fear, and loss of innocence.

Reaching the finish line!

So much has happened since my last post! Poor Jaydon - he's obviously the third child ;)

May confirmed for us that we had a heart-healthy little boy on the way. We've named him Jaydon Thomas. Jaydon means "God has heard" and Thomas means "twin." His middle name is after DH, but I realized that Jaydon and Aubree are technically "Irish twins" as their due dates are the same week, just a year apart.

The third week of May DH and I sat down with a mortgage broker to see if it would be possible to rent out our house and purchase another that would give our growing family some more room. By Memorial day we had a budget in place and a list of houses to see. The first week of June we had a pending contract on a new place and renters lined up for our old one! Everything lined up perfectly and we were able to move to a house in a very family-friendly neighborhood where DD can play outside and there are great schools just across the street.

As July progressed I began to get itchy on my hands and feet again. This happened with Aubree in the last week of my pregnancy. The doctors said it was cholestasis of pregnancy, or ICP, but they thought it was nothing to be concerned about. I've since learned it can be very dangerous to a baby if left untreated and the recurrence rate is very high. Itching all over without a rash is one big sign, so when it started up I went to the doc to request tests and treatment. So now we are doing weekly scans to check on Jaydon and will induce at 37 weeks as the chance of stillbirth afterwards goes up and its just not worth that risk.

So we have just a few weeks left until our little guy comes home with us. I've started to allow myself to believe that it will really happen. We got a crib for him tonight and his room is just about ready to go. Clothes are washed and settled in the dresser. Car seat is cleaned up and bases ready to install in the cars. We are about as ready as we can be. I just can't wait to hold him in my arms and bring him home!!!

A year ago today

One year ago today I went for a routine prenatal exam. DH had been coming along to all of my appointments, but for some reason he couldn't make this one. I assured him it wasn't a big deal - no ultrasounds, nothing special. Just pee in a cup, check my blood pressure, and get a quick listen to baby's heart beat.

However, at my appointment, the doctor couldn't find Aubree's heart beat. A quick ultrasound showed that something was very, very wrong. Over the next couple of days we learned that our little girl's heart was very broken and we were told she would not survive to birth. I spent the next 15 weeks researching Heterotaxy and all of Aubree's complex heart issues, consulting with doctors across the country, and praying for a miracle. But Aubree decided to write her own ending and left when she was ready. I carried her for 31 weeks and gave birth to her in a silent delivery room. We spent eight hours with her before we said goodbye and left the hospital empty handed.

-----------------------------------------------------

Today I sat in that same office for a routine prenatal exam. We found out at the beginning of February that Baby #3 was coming in mid-October - nearly the exact same due date one year later. Today's appointment went well. Baby's heart beat was hard to find, but only because the little one kept moving away from the doppler. Apparently his or her sisters have stretched things out enough that there's plenty of room to run around in there ;) We did get to hear a normal heart rate for just a few seconds in between kicks and flips. We've already had two ultrasounds and have a few more scheduled to keep a very close eye on things as baby grows. So far, everything is measuring perfectly and baby is doing great. And just like his or her big sisters, baby is a thumb-sucker :)

I wish I could say that I was excited. I am not unhappy by any means, but pregnancy after a loss is unimaginably difficult. Gone is the innocence of getting a positive pregnancy test and blissfully day dreaming about nursery colors. Through this journey I have met some wonderful mommas who have lost babies for various reasons. Now I feel like I know all too well just how terribly wrong things can go. Just because we have no indication of heart defects doesn't mean I won't have a freak placental abruption during labor, or have a cord accident at 39 weeks. Sure, the odds of that happening are very very small. But so were the odds of Aubree getting Heterotaxy. We had better chances of winning the Powerball Jackpot than of her getting Heterotaxy and all of her complex heart issues on top of it (and yes, I did buy a few lotto tickets to see if that bad luck could extend the other way - but sadly it didn't). I am extremely glad this baby is developing normally. But until I hold a screaming baby in my arms and get to take that baby home with me, I am not letting myself get too excited.

In three more weeks we will have a very detailed scan to check every part of baby's anatomy. We will hopefully also get to learn what flavor of human is currently incubating :) Although I am anxious to have a name and to start preparing for a baby, I am really torn on finding out the sex. A girl would be great because I had my heart set on a sister for DD. But a girl will never replace Aubree. A boy would be nice because we have two girls. But a boy will also mean that DD won't have a little sister (at least not right now). It's going to be such a bittersweet moment. No matter what the sex is, it's going to be a very painful reminder of who we are missing.

My Joy

In spite of all her drama and whining at times, I am so in love with this little girl.

She is so smart.
She is fiercely independent.
She has a caring spirit and loves to take care of her friends.
She loves to entertain. She will sing and dance in front of 1 person or 200.
She has her own sense of style. We often have to take an extra peek into the dressup box before leaving the house so she can find that perfect "ti-wawa" or "neck-a-lice" to complement her outfit.
She is learning to stall at bedtime. Requests for snuggles, drinks, snacks, ointment for her "tapped" lips, feed the fish, find another blanket, and a million times asking us "What's that noise??!?"

I love the little person she is becoming. It is so fun to watch her grow and change, to watch her likes and preferences form. She keeps us on our toes, for sure!

Checking In

It has been 5 and a half months since we held our baby and said hello and goodbye in the same breath. Sometimes it feels like seconds ago, and other times it feels like another lifetime.

For the most part life has gone on. I have been back at work since September, Aly is growing and changing by leaps and bounds, and life at home tends to fall back into the same regular routine. We are working on potty training with Aly, which is taking a lot longer than I had anticipated. Of course. I really need to learn to stop making plans for these kinds of things ;)

But part of my heart is still so empty, still very broken. And for the last two weeks it seems like relentless hits just keep on coming. The dozen random notes to let me know people are thinking of my precious baby and still saying prayers for me bring me to my knees. I am so grateful that people still remember. But it brings things back to the surface all over again (yet still worth it to know that others know Aubree and miss her too).

And then there are the very painful triggers. This past week I was caught off-guard at work in a meeting with people I had not seen in several months, if not years. "Oh, Sarah, how's the baby?" Such an innocent question to ask. Yet, it left me sitting there completely befuddled. Baby? What baby? I don't have a baby? Oh, Aly? She's 2 now, going on 15, and full of little-girl drama. Definitely not a baby anymore!

"No, the baby. How's the baby?" And that's when it hit me. Crap. What do I say? Oh my goodness, everyone is looking at me. Seconds felt like hours...my heart was racing and my stomach felt sick. Why was everyone staring at me? How long was I sitting there with my mouth open and my eyes fixed on the wall in the background? What do I say to someone I barely know, let alone a room full of strangers? "Um, she passed away," was all I could mutter, while looking at the ground and wishing I could run away.

But the questions didn't stop there. "How did she pass?" Ok, normal question. This one I could answer. Her little heart was broken and couldn't make it. "So, are you trying again?" When I stalled on answering again the question was asked repeated. Several times. WOW. Searing pain coursed through my body as I began to panic. First of all, from co-workers I barely know, how is a question like that appropriate? Secondly, that is a really painful topic for me right now. The truth is that it's been left up to God's timing since we got the clearance from my doctor in September. And each month that passes with negative tests followed by a period brings me to tears. I feel like something is wrong with me, even though they say there isn't. I feel like God is punishing me, even though I know in my head this isn't true. Honestly I don't even remember how I managed to answer this question or the several minutes following.

And then, to top it all off, was the seemingly "funny" comment made by an acquaintance. We were talking about kiddos and how they all have very different personalities. Aly is our independent child, and I had stated that I knew Aubree would have been our clingy, needy baby. "Oh, well, guess you dodged a bullet there, huh?" WHAT THE HELL?!?! Yes, we sure did. I am so glad that we aren't being inconvenienced by a healthy, living child. You are right, a dead baby is absolutely preferable to a colicky one. I wish I could have said those things. Instead I just stared blankly for a second and tried to change the subject.

For the most part there are still way more good days than bad. And when the bad times come I am able to re-direct my thoughts and actions most of the time. But there are days when I just can't seem to function. It's always annoying to find a new trigger since I really don't know what it is going to be. The other day I was eating a grapefruit and had to throw it away because it reminded me too much of Aubree. A freaking grapefruit! *sigh*

So not "Crunchy"

But I really want to be! I would make the worst hippie ever. I really love the idea of natural remedies and treatments. However, my skeptical and analytical side wants to see proof that things will work before I try them. With many "natural" cures there just aren't scientific studies to back them up. And some things can actually be quite harmful even though they are "natural."

However, I have taken a leap of faith over the past six months. Primarily with my personal oral care. Exciting, right?

I've been reading up on natural oral care remedies since I had to get several cavities filled a few years ago. I wasn't quite yet 30 and the dentist was already starting to talk to me about crowns if the cavities kept coming back. I was already doing the requisite twice-daily brushing plus flossing. I really tried to keep my mouth rinsed out and cleaned after eating sweets. And I tried to take my daily vitamins along with a mild effort towards eating healthier. But my teeth kept getting cavities. New ones would appear at every checkup. I was feeling defeated and just assumed that bad teeth were my reality, something I had just inherited and couldn't really do anything about.

Then I started reading up on natural remedies. Home-made toothpastes (these were appealing to my "crunchy" and "frugal" sides) and oil-pulling. But being the skeptic that I am it took me awhile to actually try these things. I first started out by adding baking soda to my toothpaste and focusing my brushing efforts on being more gentle and targeting the gum-line. Then I upped the crunchy-factor and started brushing 50% of the time with a mixture of organic sea salts and baking soda. And then I moved to all salt/soda completely.

What I found is that my mouth felt so much cleaner! I wasn't feeling a build-up of gunk by the end of the day. My teeth felt smooth! And my research (ok, excessive googling) shows that the salt helps to re-mineralize teeth and is actually less abrasive than commercial pastes. I really just liked the fact that I could mix up a month's worth of  "paste" for just a few cents using 2T of salt and 2T of soda. And when swished between my teeth at the end, it seemed to pull out any remaining gunk in my teeth. Flossing afterwards very rarely yielded any nasty bits (when that used to be the norm after brushing with commercial paste). I will say that the salt took a bit to get used to. And it does not leave my mouth with a minty-fresh feeling either. But my mouth does feel very clean and I can eat just about any food after without a weird interaction (toothpaste and orange juice, anyone??).

Yet, my teeth were still a bit sensitive so I started trying oil-pulling. Honestly, this was the one that seemed the most crazy to me in the beginning. Swishing oil in my mouth for 15-20 minutes? And not just any oil, but using coconut oil (which seems to be the flavor of the month amongst my crunchiest friends). To say I was skeptical would be a massive understatement. So I started reading to see what harm it could do. Because so many of these "natural" remedies are also potentially harmful, so I wanted to know what I was up against. Except, this one really had no dangers. The only possible downside I saw was potential yellowing of the teeth from using olive oil. Since I was going to use coconut oil that wouldn't even apply. It was truly one of those things where it wouldn't be harmful and may possibly help. So with that knowledge I started trying it.

I've been doing this now for about 6 months. I just had a dental checkup today. This is the first time in YEARS that I don't have any new cavities!! Ok, I do have a broken filling that will need a follow-up, but nothing new! They spent very little time scraping gunk off my teeth at my cleaning, my gums never hurt, and the hygienist and dentist both told me that I was doing a great job taking care of my mouth. This is the first time that I have ever had a great review at the dentist!! Honestly, the only things that have changed are basically the paste (salt/soda) and mouthwash (coconut oil) that I am using.

So for this skeptical wanna-be hippie, I would say that these two things are definitely worth trying! Your pocketbook and your mouth will thank you :) At the very least there is no harm in trying. And for those on food stamps, this is a great way to use normal "food" items for personal care. Another way to stretch those dollars just a bit further.

**But seriously. I am a mom and random blogger. Please don't take any of this as medical advice! Do your own research/googling first before trying anything. **

The Season of Advent

This year, the celebration of Advent has really hit me hard. The anticipation of Christ's birth. The promise of hope and redemption for all.

2013 started out with such hope and anticipation for me. We were consciously trying to have another baby. I was counting days and tracking signs. The last few days in January I was taking a test twice a day because I just KNEW that this was our month. And that first day of February those two pink lines answered back. The hope, the excitement, the anticipation of meeting this little person. A little pink heart was placed on the calendar on her due date. How appropriate.

As the weeks went on I would read up on fetal development. Hey, our baby has ten fingers & ten toes! Oh, look, we just grew ears today! We talked about baby names, made plans on how to fit two kids in our little house, and talked to Aly about the tiny baby in Mommy's tummy. That anticipation and hope soon turned to heartbreak and worry as we learned at the beginning of May that our little one would not be with us long.

And in August Aubree was born. Born into a silent delivery room. There were no cheers and no crying baby. Just silence, tears, and hugs as we spent a very few moments with out little girl before having to give her back. We went home empty handed and feeling broken. I feel that this is what God refers to in Genesis when he says that part of the curse of sin is that pain will be increased with childbirth. The physical pain of birth is no picnic, but most women do recover and some even go on to choose to do it again. Ha! But to have to endure that physical pain along with the death of your child is beyond imaginable. To be honest, the depiction of the birth of Christ as a silent event is a horrifying thought to me now.

It has been hard for me this year with the focus of Christmas obviously being about the birth of Jesus. The most joyous event ever. I am having a hard time seeing pregnant women or babies as my arms and my heart ache to hold my daughter. But I have been so struck by the story of Mary. I feel like I see her in a completely different light. I imagine the joy and anticipation she must have felt when she learned that she was going to have a baby. And not just any baby. She was going to be the one to give birth to the Messiah. The one who was coming to fulfill the promise of hope and redemption for everyone. And how her anticipation must have turned to heartbreak as she realized that in order for the world to be redeemed, her son was going to die.

However, it's not his birth that gives us hope. And it's not his death that gives us peace. It's the story of his resurrection. Jesus didn't come to die for the sins of the world and to stay dead. Jesus came to conquer death. Our hope is in the resurrection and the promise that this world is not all we have.

I won't lie, I am sad that Aubree is not here to sit in her bouncy seat and look at the tree all googly-eyed. Or to stare on as Aly "helps" to open presents for everyone. Or to snuggle up on the couch after a morning of busyness and nap the afternoon away. But she is getting to celebrate Jesus' birthday with the King himself! Can you imagine what the celebration must be like in Heaven?

And for Aly, I am having such a hard time reigning in the presents. She's at that age where the things that she enjoys are still so cheap! Crayons, markers, finger paints, new coloring books. They will keep her entertained for hours and only cost me a few dollars. And yet I am constantly reminded of Luke 11:13 as I shop for her, "If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

Have Patience

Being patient, kind to others, and consciously making an effort to not be selfish seem to be my themes this year. Funny how these lessons really sink in as you try to teach them to a child. I find myself being convicted frequently by my own words.

Aly has been having a rough time traveling in the car lately. Even though she's not quite hit 25lbs yet (but she's close!!), she did hit the height limit for rear-facing in her car seat this month. I was hoping that turning her seat around would make traveling more pleasant. But I am learning that my daughter is just as impatient as I am. Red lights make her WAIL and scream until the car starts moving again. It was very difficult when she was rear-facing and couldn't see the lights, but now that she can see them with me, we've started to make a game of it.

Me: Aly, what color is the light up there?
Aly: It's  red!!
Me: And what does red mean?
Aly: It means: Be Patient. Wait your turn!
Me: That's right :) Look at all the other cars going. They waited patiently for their turn, and now they get to go. Oh look, now our light is green!! What does that mean?
Aly: It's our turn! We can go!

We have this conversation almost every time we come to a traffic light. And even when Aly is not in the car with me, I find myself repeating the same information. It's not my turn, I have to be patient. Take a minute to just relax. It will be my turn in a minute, but for now I get to sit still and be quiet.

This has also transferred over in to how I view the other drivers around me. When I am in a hurry and someone JUST WONT MOVE OUT OF MY WAY, I am immediately reminded that I need to slow down and not speed, that there are other people on the road with places to go and people to see and my personal journey is not any more important than theirs is. And that jerk that just cut me off? Maybe that person is having the worst day of their life and completely zoned out, not thinking about traffic. Lord knows I was in that same place many times over the past six months. Or maybe that person is late to work, or needs to rush home to something very urgent. I find myself thinking more about the other PEOPLE on the road, and praying for whatever circumstances may be happening in their lives right now.

It's amazing to me how our minds can be trained to think like this. At first it was such a conscious effort to stop and redirect my thoughts towards compassion and patience. But slowly over time it is becoming a habit. I hope that I can help to teach Aly to be patient and caring for those around her. And the best way to teach her is to model it myself.

Why I Gladly Pay Taxes To Support Welfare

"I am tired of other people living better than I do, on MY dime!"

Ughghg. I am so sick of hearing this (mainly from my Republican/Tea Party friends). They perceive that people living on assistance have an easy life. After all, they are obviously not working, right? If I didn't have to go to work and could sit on my bum eating bon bons all day, life would be awesome!

But that's not what life on assistance is like. Sure, there may be a scammer here or there, but the reality is not pretty for most people on assistance. We like to hold up the example of the fraudsters and claim everyone is just like them. But that would be like saying Fred Phelps represents most Christians, or that Lady Gaga is a what most 30-yr old women are like.

I would hope we can all agree on assistance for the elderly and disabled. As a civilized society, I don't feel we should be seeing our elders living on the streets, or our disabled locked away in institutions. What seems to really burn people up are the "fraudsters" and "moochers." So how many people on assistance are scamming the system? This federal study says 91% of all assistance recipients are either 1) elderly (53%), 2) disabled (20%), or 3) working-poor (18%). Ok, then that means 9% of the recipients are able-bodied and should be working, right? Except the majority of that 9% is receiving unemployment benefits (meaning they did work at some point), receiving medical assistance, Social Security survivor's benefits, or Social Security retirement benefits for those 62-64 years old. It is approximately 2% or less that are receiving some kind of assistance that are otherwise able-bodied and able to find employment.

It is easy to hid behind generic statistics and not see the reality of a situation. So I will break down my "reality" using actual data for the county where I live. I am in Jackson County, MO. The average household income for four people is $71,200. Typically this means two adults earning $35,600 ($17/hr roughly) each and two children. To qualify for assistance, the entire household must be earning much less than the average. Let's say we have two adults each working for minimum wage and together they earn $30,576 per year. This is less than half of the average, so surely they would qualify for some assistance. Let's see:

1. Housing - The average two-bedroom apartment in this county costs $780/month or $9,360 per year. That comes out to 13% of the average household's income. For non elderly/disabled, rent vouchers are available once rent exceeds 40% of the household's income. That means a four-person household has to be earning UNDER $23,400 in our county to even begin to get housing assistance. But for our family working at minimum wage, rent is taking up 30% of their monthly income and they don't come close to qualifying for assistance.

2. Food - To even begin to qualify for food assistance, a four-person household can not have an income higher than $29,064.  The household also can not have more than $2,000 in savings. Let's be generous and "give" the family $400/month for food - $100 for each week. To qualify for that assistance, their monthly income can not exceed $893, or a yearly income of $10,716. Our family does not qualify for any assistance, but food is taking up 16% of their monthly income.

3. Utilities - A family of four applying for LIHEAP would have to earn $2593/month or less (so our family would finally qualify for some help here). The max benefit is $800 to help with winter heating bills (available after Nov 1st), and possibly $300 in crisis funding during the summer - but you have to have an active disconnect notice to qualify for this assistance. Let's assume an average electric bill of $75 and an average gas bill of $50 for that two bedroom apartment. That would be $125/month for heating & cooling combined, or $1,500/year. $1,100 in max assistance wouldn't even cover all of the utilities.

This is just barely scratching the surface here. Most of these apartments don't have laundry facilities, so families are in laundromats washing clothes at $2.00/load (that is to WASH - let's assume they take the clothes back home to line-dry). We only have three people in our family and I do four loads of laundry per week. That would be $32.00 per month just to operate the machine at the laundromat. And what about buying those clothes in the first-place?

What about transportation? KC is not the most public-transit friendly place around. I live in a suburb and commute 10 miles each day to work. To find a bus that would take me there, I would have to leave my house two hours before my shift started and I would not arrive back home until at least an hour after my shift had ended. It may be faster just to buy a bike and ride it each day if I couldn't afford to drive.


But let's get back to that average household income. $71,200 for a family of four. How much do they pay in Federal taxes to support these benefits that others are receiving? At $71,200 (assuming NO deductions), they paid $9,854 in federal taxes if they are married and filed jointly, or 14% of their income. But not all of those taxes go to assistance programs. Here's where that money goes:

So breaking down that $9,854 in federal taxes, only 12% is going towards "Welfare" (Safety Net Programs), or $1,182. And our family earning $30,576 working two minimum wage jobs only qualifies for $800 in assistance, but has paid $3,700 in federal taxes, with $444 of that going back to the very assistance programs that helped them.

So do I think that someone living on assistance, on my "dime" of $1,182 per year, is living better than I do on $71,200? Absolutely not! No one denies the fact that fraud exists. But please, let's all give up the stereotype that those on assistance are lazy and just out to scam the system. It does nothing to help the true problem of fraud and merely lets us mask the fact that there is a deep and true need in our society for these programs.

It's Finished

Today we went to the children's hospital for Aubree's autopsy report. I nearly burst into tears walking in to that place, but managed to hold it together. I was able to see the same doc that had treated me and the same neonatologist that was with us when Aubree was born (he personally took her back to the children's hospital for the autopsy when we left the hospital). Seriously, I have never had such a wonderful caring team of doctors before. The actual autopsy showed that she passed away due to her heart stopping, which is what we had suspected. It was only beating at 37 bpm the last time we had seen her on ultrasound so this wasn't a surprise. They did find some other things wrong with her heart that couldn't be seen on the ultrasounds and her other organs had issues related to her heterotaxy. But nothing really significant in light of her more complex issues. The placenta tested fine and there were no clots or infection found that would have contributed to her passing or cause concern for future pregnancies. Most of my questions were for the geneticist. She said that Aubree got two defective "nodal" genes, one each from DH and I. The nodal gene is what tells things where to go early in development when there are just a couple of cells. Having one defective gene is apparently really common, but having two could have caused Aubree's severe heterotaxy (but they can't be certain since apparently there are 60 genes that determine "sided-ness" and they only can test for a few).

It was recommended that DH, Aly, and I get heart echos and ultrasounds of our abdomens to see if any of us have misplaced organs. If we do, our chances of having another baby with heterotaxy are about 50% since DH and I both seem to have this defective gene. If not, then our chances of having another baby with heterotaxy go down about to 5%. Even if we do have misplaced organs (meaning we also have heterotaxy), most forms of heterotaxy are compatible with life and things would most likely be just fine. The chances of having another baby with issues as severe as hers (the worst scenario of heterotaxy known) is still around 1%. So we will do the tests - mainly because we have reached our max OOP and I really want to know that Aly is ok, and that DH and I are ok. But in all likelihood we won't have to worry about this issue again. Unless we hit the freakin' genetic lottery. In which case, we should also hit the real lottery just to even out the karma scales.

The doctors all said they can't tell us when to try again, but that they all personally think we are good to go whenever we feel ready. And they said that my regular OB can schedule all my ultrasounds at CMH in the fetal health center and they routinely assist with care for healthy babies after situations like ours. So we will for sure do our 12-week scan and 20-week anatomy scan there, with an additional heart echo around 24 weeks just to be completely sure.

I went in to today with a really heavy heart, but I walked out of that hospital with a sense of relief and a feeling of closure. Her due-date was yesterday, and her autopsy today. Aly was born the day after her due date and I'd had in my mind that Aubree should have been born the day after her "due date."  The autopsy report feels like the last official thing we did for Aubree as her parents. Now life can move on.

Two Months

I've been absent from here for awhile. I went back to work three weeks ago and life has pretty much resumed it's normal pace. In a weird way it seems like DH and I are back to where we were at the beginning of the year. We set out this year with the goal of having another baby, and even though we had her it seems like she never was here. Kind of weird to be starting again nine months later and feeling like things are right back to where they were.

I've really been handling things well so far. I could see new little babies or pregnant ladies and not run crying from the room. Oh sure, I felt a tinge of sadness, but it was ok. But as we got closer to October, I started feeling more & more sad. Today was Aubree's due date, and we got the call last week that her autopsy report is in and the doctors want to meet with us tomorrow. We should be going home with a new baby, not sitting in a conference room discussing her autopsy. I am hoping that we don't hear anything we didn't already know about her. I hope to hear that Aubree passed from complications due to her severe heart defect caused by her heterotaxy, and that Mike and I did all that we possibly could for our little girl. But babies with heterotaxy usually pass away in the 1st trimester, so part of me is really worried that this is somehow related to my first miscarriage and that something is wrong with me that keeps killing my babies.

This week has been a really bad week. It started on Tuesday, and as the week progressed I got more & more sad and angry. Sad that my baby is not in my arms like she should be. Angry with the world for going on with life like normal. Sad that it has been two months since I felt her kicks and rolls, her dancing to daddy's music, her sudden jolts and kicking at the sound of my alarm in the morning. I miss the giant belly that made it impossible for me to sleep, or sit, or walk. And vainly, if I can't have the baby, then why the hell do I have to keep the smooshy tummy afterwards? Yet part of me loves that stretch mark on my stomach that I know was left by Aubree. She WAS here. She WAS real. She IS my baby.

Someone asked me this week if I was "all better." Another person asked Mike and I if we would have more children. These really threw me for a loop. I don't know if things will ever be "all better." Part of me will always miss Aubree. She is our daughter, the same way Alyvia is. She had her own personality - she loved green chiles and dancing the night away in the desert air when we went to visit great grandpa in New Mexico. She loved to dance while Mike played the guitar and sang, yet she always stopped as soon as he would place his hand on her. How she knew the difference between his touch and mine I will never know, but she calmed immediately whenever he would speak to her and put his hands on my tummy. Aubree liked when I would rock with Aly on my lap and read bedtime stories, but she would kick Aly for encroaching on her space. Aly loved to pat my belly and talk to her sister.

Having another baby won't make things all better. No one will ever replace Aubree. And to be honest, the thought of going through another pregnancy is absolutely terrifying. Through the wonderful support groups I have found over the past year my eyes have been opened to just how many things can go wrong with a pregnancy. And I've come to realize just how very little I can do to prevent those things from happening. Most fatal defects are complete random chance, and not the fault of a mom drinking caffeine or eating a lunch meat sandwich. No matter what rules there are and how careful a person is, the truth is that the scariest and most lethal defects are just random chance. If and when we decide to have another baby I know that facing pregnancy itself will be facing one of my biggest fears. It will be the choice to allow myself to be put in the position to lose everything again, and to be willing to face that risk in order to hold a living child in my arms.

And yet, even knowing the outcome, I would choose to walk this road again.  I love my daughter and I am so thankful for the time we had with her. I am thankful that we life in a time when we could discover her challenges and prepare to face them. We knew that each day was a gift and we tried to cherish each one. Our 31 weeks with her far surpassed everyone's original estimates. We were able to spend an additional three months with our daughter, and we know that she directed her story and went on her own terms.

Aubree, I hope you have really enjoyed your last two months in Heaven. I hear that time is not the same there, and I hope all you know is a time when we are already together with you.

Back to Reality

The last six weeks have been a surreal mix of pain and grieving for my baby mixed with joyful moments of connecting with my two-year-old and just resting from the craziness of life. Aly and I have really enjoyed this time together. We've sang songs, played games, gone on trips, shopped, run around at the park, and just generally had a great time. I think I would love the SAHM life! Too bad it doesn't come with a paycheck & medical benefits like my real job does ;)

But today was the day I had to go back to that real job. All last week I was in a bad mood with DH. I couldn't even express why I was so upset. I was sad. And mad. I had just gone through maternity leave, but had no baby. None of my normal work clothes fit because I still have the smooshy tummy, but no baby and no breast feeding that helped me lose all the weight with Aly. Normal cycles returning left me feeling moody, bloated, and just generally unhappy with myself. And then yesterday DH broke his foot! Poor guy. And then Aly didn't feel like sleeping last night and was up just about every hour screaming about bad dreams and scary things in her room. I woke up in a sleep-deprived fog this morning and stumbled around helping DH get ready for work and getting myself ready, only to still make it to work a couple minutes late (ughghg). And then I spilled black coffee on my white shirt. And then I had 10 complaints waiting for me (translation: it's going to be a BUSY day!).

And, and, and.....that's pretty much how my day went.

After feeling a bit sorry for myself, I realized that being in a sad mood was only going to make the day worse. I could continue my little pity-party and chose to see every little inconvenience as another one of life's cruel jokes, or I could choose to change my attitude and try to be happy. To look for the joyful moments or purposefully create some if needed.We've been working with Aly on having a good attitude (heaven help us, she's 2 going on 16 with these mood swings!). We tell her that we need to have a happy heart and a good attitude. Today I found myself repeating those words to my own heart.

I think the things that frustrate me the most as a parent are when my child struggles with the same things that are most often my own weaknesses. It's amazing how little patience I tend to have for her in these areas, when they are really what I dislike the most about myself (and the things I tend to gloss over or excuse myself for). Today my heart was reminded of Matthew 7:1-5 (The Message)

"Don’t pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It’s easy to see a smudge on your neighbor’s face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, ‘Let me wash your face for you,’ when your own face is distorted by contempt? It’s this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor."

Guess it's time to model the correct behavior for my daughter. And choose to find the joyful moments instead of letting myself get consumed in a pity-party of celebrating all that is going wrong. Even with all that's gone wrong over this last year it is still easy for me to see that we are blessed beyond measure. There's always someone that has it "worse" and someone that has it "better" than we do. But comparing myself to someone else or to what I think is the "ideal" only ends up poorly.

So tonight I choose to go to bed with a happy heart, thankful for this day.

Month One is Done

We had our little girl one month ago. The pain is gradually fading and now I can look at her pictures without crying. I made a collage of pictures to print off for her service and it's framed and set out in the living room. Aly loves to sit and look at the pictures of her sister:

The top center and bottom pictures were taken by Amanda. We absolutely LOVE the photos she got for us! The top corner shots were taken by Mike just minutes after Aubree was born. I love the picture of her head. It's the only picture we have of her hair. This is how much hair she had at 10 weeks early!! She would have had a full head of black hair just like her sister if she had made it to full-term :) And that foot...that was the foot that tried to break my ribs. Oh how I love it :)

It seems so strange that she's been gone for a month already. I was looking back at some of the goals I had set back in December for 2013 - one of them was to have another baby. I guess I should have been WAY more specific about that one, since I really wanted to keep her and not just "have" her. I knew Aubree was on her way even before those two lines turned pink that first weekend in February. She was very much wanted and planned for. Ok, if you know me, the "planning" part of that last sentence wasn't a surprise.

The last few weeks at home for me have been really good for our family. Things are much calmer, relaxed, and happy. I've been able to spend a lot of time resting and recovering. It's been kind of hard for me to actually sit down and take it easy as most of the time I feel ok, but I am quickly reminded that I need to let my body heal since I did just go through 3/4 of a pregnancy and delivery. This down-time, though, has really let me spend some quality time with Aly. We've been cuddling on the couch and watching her favorite Disney Jr. shows (mommy now knows ALL the songs!). We've played tea party and princess dress-up. We went shopping and got some puzzles to put together. Aly has been helping me with cooking dinner most nights and she's loved it! She helps me take care of Lucy in the mornings. All of these things that I usually rush through on my way to work or in the crazy minutes when I first get home. It's nice to be able to slow down and include Aly more, and to see how much she is growing and maturing.

The week after next I go back to work and life returns to our new normal. Normal life full of busy schedules and rushing around. But, I am kind of ready to get back into familiar territory after the agonizing uncertainty of our life since May. Back to a life that I can "control" or plan for. Yeah, right. But I am really going to miss  morning cuddles on the couch and naps in the afternoon.

One Month Ago Today

Was the last time we saw her sweet little face. Sucking on her thumb, wriggling around and trying to evade the ultrasound wand, funny little heart beating in it's own way. This wasn't our best set of pictures, but obviously they are absolutely priceless to me. I could have stayed there all day just watching her.

Three Weeks

Oh man. This week has been rough. I think part of the shock is wearing off. Emotions are rushing in, even when I don't want them to. Dreams are sneaking in and making it hard to sleep. The rest of life has settled and moved on.

And then I get snagged back to reality by the phone call from the hospital to pre-register for delivery. Or the call from the other hospital asking me to do a customer satisfaction survey from our stay (the hospital was amazing, btw, but having the survey people call me completely sucked). And the babies have started arriving. I knew of over 20 women having babies this fall. In the last three days, the first three have arrived. Thankfully all had uneventful arrivals, and moms and babies are all fine. But I've done some facebook filtering for now. Not that I am not happy for these families (honestly, I am - any new baby is a wonderful blessing). I just don't know what my emotions are going to do when I log in to FB and scroll through my news feed. And for every mom that delivers, a new pregnancy announcement is made. HOLY COW! Is it just the season of life that my cohorts are in, or is there some serious baby boom going on?

I hope that we can shortly rejoin the ranks of those celebrating new life. Seems kind of callous to talk about it so soon after Aubree left us. But I know this isn't the end of our story. In my heart I keep hearing the lyrics of this song over & over:

"Let me see redemption win, let me know the struggle ends, that You can mend a heart that's frail & torn. I want to know a song can rise from the ashes of a broken life, and all that's dead inside can be reborn. 'Cause I'm worn...."

I know there will be a rainbow at the end of this storm. Not that anyone will ever replace Aubree in our lives. But I know our family is not yet complete. So for now, we wait. Time to heal physically and emotionally. Time to rest from the craziness and business of normal life (with me working full-time and only seeing Aly 2-3 hours per day when she's awake). Time to regroup, organize, and plan for what's next. Time for DH and I alone - time that we have desperately needed.

For now, I'm working on cleaning out our closet. DH now has a shoe rack that holds all of his shoes! And we have enough hangers for all our clothes. I'm trying to find the small things in life to celebrate along this journey. Thankfully Alyvia has responded well to spending so much time with me over the past three and a half weeks. Her attitude has improved drastically, and she has been much more affectionate and cuddly with me (which for her is out of character - she's fiercely independent!!).

Guilt

Isn't that part of this natural grieving process?

Right now I am feeling a bit guilty. Guilty for feeling so exhausted and done with the pregnancy, when in reality I should have been enjoying my last few days with her. After our appointment on the 5th, I was DONE. I wanted to have her and be un-pregnant as quickly as possible. It was getting horribly painful, physically and emotionally. Constant contractions. Polyhydramnios that had us measuring 40 weeks when we were only 30. Unable to breathe because she loved to keep her left foot pressed up against my right lower rib. And when I say "pressed", I mean "pushing on it so hard I SWEAR she was going to break the bone at any second". Seriously painful. And the emotional roller coaster of always knowing we were on the brink, but never really knowing when our world would really come crashing down. After dealing with the pain for 15 weeks, more than three months, I was done.

Little did I know that just a couple days later I would be laying on the couch trying desperately to listen to her heart beat with a stethoscope and hearing only silence. "No", I told myself, "You are just being paranoid. Her heartbeat is funny. It's slower than yours. You are just missing it."

Only, I wasn't. She was already gone.

I WISH I had gone in to the hospital at that point. Even though I knew she was gone, maybe I still would have been able to see her in a better state. She was gone for several days by the time she was born. Her poor body was in really bad shape, and I was absolutely not prepared for that at all. In all this journey, my one desperate prayer was to be able to meet my baby alive. Not only did I not get to meet her alive, I never even got to see her beautiful face completely whole.

If only....

If only I had gone in on Thursday when I felt bad and stayed home from work. If only I had gone in on Friday when I hadn't felt her move. If only I had gone in on Saturday when I couldn't hear her heart beat. 

If only....

Two Weeks

Today marked two weeks since we had our daughter. It is surreal - almost as if it didn't happen. Our house is back to "normal" and life is marching on.

Two days after we had Aubree, we had to make arrangements for her with the funeral home. The hospital had given us back all of her clothes before we left and I really wanted to keep the actual outfit that she wore. So I picked out a nice soft pair of pajamas, a sweet matching hat, and a stuffed teddy bear to take to the funeral home. I wanted her to have a comfy outfit to rest in and she needed the bear so she wouldn't be alone. That moment was really hard, handing her outfit over to the funeral director and signing all the paperwork.Yesterday the urn came in, so today I took it up to the funeral home. They transferred her ashes for me and I was able to bring her home.

For now I have placed the urn on our mantle right next to the pumpkin we used for her pregnancy announcement. Sometimes I wish I could rewind life and go back to February or March for just a minute. Back to when I could just enjoy being pregnant and relive the excitement & anticipation of having another baby. I feel like part of my innocence is gone now and I will never be able to look at a pregnancy the same way again. While friends anxiously await the results of their anatomy scans to find out if they are Team Pink or Team Blue, I hold my breath and pray for normal anatomy (heart, brain, lungs, etc).

Emotional week

We had our little girl 10 days ago. We said goodbye 10 days ago. I have to keep reminding myself that it's so recent, because it feels like it was a lifetime ago. While I am generally feeling better physically, my body quickly reminded me that I did just go through giving birth last week and re-painting my room probably wasn't the best idea right now. Oh well, I love the nice, new, refreshing space. I needed some kind of change.

And this week, all I've seen on FB were posts about little ones going off to kindergarten. I should have had a little one going off to kindergarten too. My first pregnancy loss was early in 2008. I should have had a 5-yr old. I should be buying back to school supplies. I should be going to meet teachers, and packing a backpack and picking out special outfits in anticipation of that first day.

Instead I feel like I am missing out on a lot of life right now. Seeing life through the eyes of an excited little kid. Rocking a newborn in the middle of the night. Thankfully I have a 2-yr old that is keeping me busy :) But I hate that I feel like she is missing out on getting to know her siblings. I hate that I am missing out on getting to know them.

This morning I was uploading the last CD of pictures we have of Aubree. The ultrasound we had just days before she passed. Her poor face was so swollen. Aly came over to ask what I was doing, and saw the pictures. "That's Baby Aubree!!" she said, so excited to see her sister. So I pulled her into my lap and we looked through all of the pictures. "Awww, look at Baby Aubree!" "Pretty baby!!" She had so much fun looking at her sister. It was the first time she has mentioned her since she had told me that she was gone.