Sunday, January 29, 6:15AM...Too Early

"Mommy...??"

"Mommy....??"

*kiss* "Mommy...??"

"What is it Nathan?"

"Mommy, the Goose is awake."

"I know, I can hear her."

"I will sing her a song to go back to sleep."

"OK Nathan, that will be nice."

*picks up receiver end of baby monitor that he thinks works 2 ways*
"Luuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeep.
Luuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeep.
Luuuuuucy go to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep."

"Nathan, that was really nice-"

"I'm not done yet.
Luuuuuuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeeeeeep.
Luuuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeeeeeep.
Luuuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Luuuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Luuuuuuuuucy, go to sleeeeeeeeeeeep."

"That was very kind Nathan, I liked your song."

"Thank you Mommy."

"Mommy.....??"

"Yes, Nathan?"

"You wanna go downstairs and play?"

And Who Doesn't Support Breasts??

Dear Friends and Family,
This year, I'll be participating in a very special event called the Breast Cancer 3-Day.

I'll walk 60 miles over the course of three days with thousands of other women and men. The net proceeds will support breast cancer research, education, screening and treatment through the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation and the National Philanthropic Trust Breast Cancer Fund.

I've agreed to raise at least $2,200 in donations. I hope to raise even more and to do that, I need your help. Would you please consider making a donation of $50? Please take a look at the enclosed donation form and designate the amount that's right for you. Please keep in mind how far I'm walking -- and how hard I'll have to train.

I am doing this walk for many reasons including a self promise to improve my health. However, the person I am specifically walking for is my godmother, Susan Armstrong. She has since passed on but I teach her lessons of love, kindness, thirst for life and even pampering to my children every day.

According to the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation, approximately 200,000 American women will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year, and nearly 40,000 will die from the disease. That's why I'm walking so far. To do something bold about breast cancer. I hope that you'll share this incredible adventure with me -- by supporting me in my fundraising efforts.

You can donate online by following this link: http://www.the3day.org/SanDiego06/missthany

Thank you in advance for your generosity!
Sincerely, Bethany Zabrosky

And People Wonder Why I Am So Chatty on the Phone

He stands up from his plate of peanut butter sandwich, walks over to me and says...
"Mom, I can’t eat.
I can’t drink.
I can’t do all those things.

I have to go stinkies."

This is the type of conversation I receive during the day. I pity the person who calls me and gets and earful of nothing in general just because I am happy to hear a grown ups voice!

Save the Birds!

As seen on my instructions for my new frying pan...

CAUTION: For safety, please keep pet birds out of the kitchen. Birds' respiratory systems are sensitive to many kinds of household fumes, including the fumes from extremely overheated non-stick pans.

My Friend Thomas

Today, David, Nate the Great and I went to Perris, CA. to visit THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE! (Or My Friend Thomas as Nathan calls him.) It was a fun event and despite some rearranging of our day, I dont think it could have been planned any better!

While waiting for the MAIN EVENT, Nathan was on my shoulders yelling, Thooooooooooomas! Thooooooooomas! Like he was calling a dog from 4 blocks away. That kid has quite a set of pipes! We had a cool ride on trains pulled by My Friend Thomas and Nathan had such a look of peace and happiness on his face. Not over excitement or even enthusiasm-just a look like he was where he needed to be and how at home he was. I wished the train would take us forever...

After the ride and after Nathan said Thank you to My Friend Thomas we walked around a train and cable car graveyard. The sights and smells were amazing. The beautiful aged trains-and busses too-were wonderful to look at. Nathan even really enjoyed checking them out. This was after Nathan TOTALLY confused the very aged Museum guide when he ran up to the old man and said, Um, excuse me. Can I come look at your trains here in Tidmouth Sheds?(For you non-Thomas people, Thomas and the other trains sometimes reside there.) The old man had no idea what this young lad with the mop of hair was talking about and when I told he guide to just say yes, He became even more confused. We got it sorted out-I think and life went on just fine with David and I laughing at our son with the wonderful imagination.

After offering a chance to have Thomas-sorry-My Friend Thomas painted on his arm (No.) we rode on a trolley car around the Train park. We considered doing more but it was near closing time and we decided to head home. On our way out, we got to see Thomas coming back into station after pulling his last load of passengers. Nathan waved good bye and told Thomas to have a good nights sleep in Tidmouth Sheds. He then turned to us and said, It was a fun day seeing My Friend Thomas, wasnt it?

We smiled and said Absolutely.

You can see the pictures here: http://thezabs.smugmug.com/gallery/965372

We are The Happy but Tired Zabs

PS: Fret not, Lucy was not forgotten. She was with my dear friend Kristen while we had our Date with Nate.

OK, Who Are You and What Did You Do With the REAL Bethany???

So I don’t know what was in the air but when I came home after attending some sort of home decorating Tupperware Party, I wanted to DO something! I had an agenda but I wasn’t sure what it was. I lit candles because I needed to relax and looked around my house.

Suddenly, as if lit from heaven, I was able to see through the mess on my kitchen counter. Quickly, items were practically flying off the counter and into their designated places. I made David get his butt off the couch and put the dishes away. Pretty soon, the kitchen was clean.

But it wasn’t good enough.

I had to put the toaster oven away, find places for counter clutter. Wires were organized, baskets acquired and papers sorted and stashed in an accessible but tidy manner. I moved on to the “dining room” and the table was cleaned, mops and Swiffers found a better home. The piano was cleared off and dusted and even reorganized as to better display some of our things.

I don’t know what got into me but my kitchen is practically spotless! The camera is still on the piano (it really is the safest place for it) and the floor isn’t clean because I HATE cleaning the kitchen floor. I even put my damn bananas in a funny shaped bowl!

You all need to find your way to my house soon before I mess it all up.

Now I need to sit down, my asthma is SO bad now!!

Silence...Is THAT the Racket I am Listening to Right Now??

I am not going to allow myself to be distracted by the computer except to say:

LISTEN...do you hear that?

It is the sound of SILENCE

It is the harmonious melody of two children napping in unison

Who knows how long it will last?

So I will FIGHT the urge to crack open a soda, sit on my butt, watch a movie and look at all your facinating MYSpace [and blogspot!] Pages.

Instead, I will RISE to the occasion and

CLEAN.

MY.

HOUSE.


(or at least the downstairs)

Sing a Song of Lucy

Lucy
by Bethany Zabrosky

sweet child
so soft, so clean
baby girl
smelling of bananas and love
my heart forever changed
smiling face
chirping sounds of joy as my fingers dance on your tummy
laughing eyes

my daughter

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ is... Join the Fun!

This is a cheater blog and is possibly more of a Bulletin but I am choosing to blog it instead. I got this off my MUSICAL GENUIS FRIEND's Site...

Directions: Type "(your name) is" with the quotes, into a Google search then pick out your favorite responses. Copy, then repost your responses:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Bethany is~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bethany is a deep well of creativity, which is the hallmark of a great artist
(who didn't know that already??)

Bethany is having a prosthetic arm fitted next month
(Oh, you didn't hear about the accident with my KitchenAid Stand Mixer?)

Bethany is trying to describe how she feels when she uses her power
(Ummmm, powerful??)

Bethany is an 11" vinyl doll with curly auburn hair
(Okaaaaaay.)

Bethany is a triple-certified yoga instructor
(I'm very bendy)

Bethany is not just a correspondence school offering courses by mail
(Lesson 1: How to properly operate your KitchenAid Stand Mixer)

Bethany is currently serving in 77 locations and 15 foreign countries
(I am everywhere! How do I do it all?!?)

Bethany is going to have a kissing booth
(The line starts right here!)

Bethany is always grateful to receive donations
(Cash is preferable but baked goods and gift certificates are also acceptable.)

And the winner....
Bethany is an even better mating, with better udders and extreme size and stature
(Quit looking at my udders!)

They Make House Calls Now?

I was driving by a house that had a van out in front that read:

Down Under Plumbing

When did OB/GYN's become mobile?

Tales From Customer Service

My friend BigPhatMomma inspired me to post MY Customer Serevice experience I had this morning.

"Thank you for calling PayPal, how can I help you?"

Didn't realize those words would take any coherent thoughts I ever had and twist them into a swirling mass of goo by the time I was done talking to the kind and "helpful" PalPal guy.

I have what is apparently a recycled e-mail address with Cox. Once, some guy who has a name like mine had it and now he doesn't, I do. Every once in awhile I get a goofy forwards from a friend of his who hasn't updated his e-mail account and then I also get quarterly statements from PayPal. After 2 years, I decided to fix that this morning in person and over the phone. (What was I thinking??) I have tried e-mailing before but I think when you e-mail PayPal, they have filters that remove all your vowels, insert q's in their place and THEN try to answer your question.

20 minutes later, after I have had to spell and re-spell my name, the other man's name, the e-mail address, my shoe size and whether I like chocolate or vanilla ice cream, I am told that it is an ISP problem and good luck and have a nice day.

Getting this guy's e-mails is no big deal to me; I have been deleting them for the last 2 years. It just confounds me that a human being who is supposed to be helpful could have such a hard time understanding a concept. The only thing that could explain it is if he was taking two calls at once, or he is two years old.

I Love the Nightlife...

It’s 1:30am and I am up after a brief bit of shut eye. I have a headache from this blasted cold I feel like I have been fighting all of my life. It has moved into my chest so my coughs sound like I need to be trimming my 2 pack a day habit to just 1. (Or just switch cigarette brands.)

Being up at night when the rest of your family is sleeping feels like sneaking around a store after it is closed. You don’t turn on as many lights. Moving objects around, you take great care to keep them quiet. It is a rich feeling, like you have unlimited possibilities of what you can do. Time ceases to exist and the world (as confined by pajama clad activities) is your oyster. Will you clean up your house a little? Do you pay some bills? Start a book? Finish a book? Snack and watch TV? Or write poetic e-mails to your friends about your nightlife?

As I sit here in my pj’s (and a lot of you know what THAT means) I struggle over what to do while waiting for my 1 (one!) Extra Strength Tylenol to kick in. I have a book I started awhile ago that I haven’t really absorbed enough for a late night read. I will probably need to start it over but my internal CPU is operating on insufficient memory right now. If I add more information, things like my children’s names, my shoe size and what kind of car I drive will come running out the other side of my head, lost forever. I emptied the bags from my Target shopping spree (I can never go in there and get just ONE thing) and I could probably clean off the counter a little more. TV is always an option, I have 1,483 channels to choose from, there must be SOMEthing on. I have crocheting to do-I will be managing my own sweat shop from now till Christmas as I make scarves for everyone in my family as presents. (Family who may be reading this: Forget I said that. It isn’t scarves, I am getting you all hundreds of dollars worth of fabulous gifts and prizes!) Or I can simply continue to sit here surfing the internet, glad that no one can see me here in my pajamas (!!) and sandals.

Then there is my most favorite option: one of the above sedimentary activities coupled with falling asleep on my couch. It is so glorious to nap on my couch-a big hug that leaves you wanting for more pillows instead of a husband in your bed. (You are thinking, “Does she really mean that?” YES, I do!) Although sleeping on the couch is wonderful and feels like such a glorious treat, in the morning the magic in the relationship is gone and you can’t understand why the cushions are poking you and how the couch is trying to launch you onto the floor and the pile of clean laundry you were using as a pillow has flattened into an uncomfortable lump. The ends of your feet are slightly numb because the couch is too short by just thismuch and walking feels like a whole new sensation now that you are toeless. You could say it is a hangover (HAHAHAHA bad 1:30am joke!)

I think I will opt for the unmentioned activity of lying in bed and willing my headache to go away. I can feel it fading now and wonder if I gripe too much about only taking 1 (one!!) Extra Strength Tylenol since it does seem to be working a bit. I feel funny sitting here in my pj’s (a bit drafty, really) and I am all too aware that in only 5 hours, I will have a sweet faced boy kissing me awake. (It isn’t as sweet as it sounds, most of the time he forgets and instead puts his face up close to yours and you get to awake to the delightful feeling like you are being watched. And you ARE.)

Good Night.

Welcome to The MexiCocina Open Air Theatre

Nate the Great, Family and our friends Jeremy and Marissa Mann went out to eat last night. We went to what is possibly the BEST Mexican Restaurant at least in Poway-MexiCocina. We decided to sit outside since it was a) a nice night and b) less people to drive crazy with our kids. We ordered some yummy food for the grown ups and we knew better than to get anything for Nathan. He was perfectly content eating chips and chips and chips and rice and chips. Oh, and stirring everyone’s drinks. Besides, he was to preoccupied to eat-he had an audience.

As is his current style, anything Nathan holds is a guitar. This particular night, it was a dinner knife. He stood in his outside patio chair and played his knife. He sang his usual repertoire of songs consisting of Newsboys’ “He Reigns” (how-a-you-yuh) and various U2 selections. When he got to his favorite U2 song, “Vertigo” he decided that his audience needed to really rock it out and he cranked the volume up all the way to 11. We realized that many things converging at the same time got us to this point.

1. We had only a 45 minute nap at about 11:30am that day.
2. We weren’t telling him to be quiet.
3. He really wanted to impress the friends dining with us.
4. He was on a serious tortilla chip high.

We look around and while he is singing, three tables have stopped eating. They have stopped talking. They are all smiling and listening to my son sing. He realized this at the same time we did and like any good performer, straightened up, flashed a smile and began his set list again. He got applause after each song, he had people signing up to join his mailing list and Crayola autographs were handed out by the dozens. And as with the most exciting of rock concerts, it only ended when our singer rocked the stage so much that he almost fell off it. (Remember #1 on our list?)

Regardless, he got quite the ovation and left in rock star spirits with a jacket thrown over his head so the groupies wouldn’t attack him as he climbed into the car seat of his tinted window SUV.

Look for Nate the Great appearing at a restaurant near you!

Bill Gates vs. Crayola

Microsoft Outlook knows many brands. It knows to put a hyphen in Wal-Mart. It knows to capitalize Kleenex. But I have discovered that Bill must be at war with the Binny and Smith company...

Microsoft Outlook doesn't recognize Crayola. It doesn't tell me to capitalize it. It doesn't acknowledge the existence of the word at all except to tell me that what I MEANT to type is: cariole . I don't even know what that IS!

Clear obvious war.

Was Bill harmed by Crayola crayons as a child? Did he have a horrible pre-school incident? Or was he possibly just raised in a Rose Art family? (The Horrors!!)

Watch the news, I bet this war will be surfacing on Bloomberg any day now.

Things That Make Me Happy (a Living List) Part Three

Things That Make Me Happy
Diet Coke (with Lime specifically but I will always love the original too)
"Friends," the TV Show
The excuse for a solo road tripMy Manhattan Transfer CD turned up LOUD
Cherry Sours from Disneyland
Finishing a good book
a nice cool breeze when I am walking Miramar Lake with my friend Tara
Price Club
People who don't give me grief for still calling Costco Price Club
the DVR Feature on my cable box
Floating on my back in a pool (my Gma taught me and I can float on my back and read a book, you are totally impressed, aren't you?)
Singing really loud in my car
Time spent with some of my oldest of friends
a glass of milk that is so cold that it makes your teeth hurt
getting to tell anyone about how my husband and I met
napping on the couch with my sweet hubby
my washing machine-it is one of the front loaders with the clear door and I still sit and watch it go through a couple of cycles every once in awhile
*Watching my son eat yogurt, I don't know why but it is super cute.
* Pedicures
*Catching a REALLY GOOD picture of one of my kids
*Coloring with my markers in my Suzy's Zoo Coloring Books (haven't done that in awhile, I need the good stress release-Thanks Susie!!)
*The feeling I get before going on stage
* Lucy's Lips (I kiss them all the time!)
* The Crayola color Cornflower

Things That Make Me Happy (a Living List) Part Two

Things that Make Me Happy

Diet Coke (with Lime specifically but I will always love the original too)
"Friends," the TV Show
The excuse for a solo road trip
My Manhattan Transfer CD turned up LOUD
Cherry Sours from Disneyland
* Finishing a good book
* a nice cool breeze when I am walking Miramar Lake with my friend Tara
* Price Club
* People who don't give me grief for still calling Costco Price Club
* the DVR Feature on my cable box
* Floating on my back in a pool (my Gma taught me and I can float on my back and read a book, you are totally impressed, aren't you?)
* Singing really loud in my car
*Time spent with some of my oldest of friends
* a glass of milk that is so cold that it makes your teeth hurt
* getting to tell anyone about how my husband and I met
* napping on the couch with my sweet hubby
*my washing machine-it is one of the front loaders with the clear door and I still sit and watch it go through a couple of cycles every once in awhile

I would love to know some of your favorite things...what are they?

Things That Make Me Happy (a Living List)

I was talking with a friend's mom the other day and I mentioned my borderline obsessive consumption of Diet Coke (pre Lucy). She was so shocked and told me how bad it was for me and proceeded to mention studies...she then wanted to know how I could continue to drink it with that knowledge. I simply told her:

Because it makes me happy.

The group we were sitting with laughed but they all understood. It was after that conversation that I have decided to compile this list of things that make me happy. I am not talking about the obvious like an "I Love You" from Nate the Great or the overwhelming feeling that God exists. I am talking about the daily things that make life great. I will dedicate the blog to those things for the next few days...

Things that Make Me Happy

Diet Coke (with Lime specifically but I will always love the original too)

"Friends," the TV Show

The excuse for a solo road trip

My Manhattan Transfer CD turned up LOUD

Cherry Sours from Disneyland

More to come...stay tuned.

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The Story of Elijah Michael

This is the story of Elijah, my son "born asleep in Jesus," on September 27, 2010 as told through different previously published blog posts. I have laid them out in order for my readers.

We lost Eli at 18 weeks of pregnancy and there are few days that pass without missing him. Some days I feel it stronger than others but no matter what he has left a hole in my heart that I see God successfully filling over and over again with His healing Love and Grace and Hope.

I didn't write this to seek pity or sympathy but instead to encourage others and because I feel that God wants me to talk about my story. If the days of my son were known from the beginning of time (Psalm 139:16) then I want to be sure his existence was not in vain. I cannot keep this to myself.

If you find yourself in a place needing to talk about your experiences or thoughts or feelings about events like these, I would love to talk to you. Don't hesitate for a moment. I want to talk to you.

The Shape of the Mold

In our lives we have stories....moments or things that have happened to us that form who we are as a person. We share these at a party or a casual gathering- something funny or embarrassing to yourself or the family member sitting nearest to you (if you are a part of my family. (And, if you read my blog, you probably are.)) These are the round, smooth edges of who we are. The extra bit of dimple in our cheeks or even the slope of our belly that laughs and our hips that dance.

But there are also stories that really form the sharp edges and corners of who we are as we walk on the earth. These are the stories that we tell one-on-one, over coffee with a friend, during an intimate dinner with our closest friends or a counselor if the moments are too hard to work through on your own. As a Christian, we call these our testimony. Part of the story of our lives that God has allowed to happen and has walked alongside us for a journey that is painful, unrelenting and always memorable.

My family went through that very thing about a month ago.
It began Saturday, September, 25 and came to a climax on Monday, September 27.

I will be taking the next few days to write out our story. Because it has changed my life. And because I can't be quiet. I have to talk about the things God has done for David and me.

I hope you will find the time to read it.

Psalm 34:18

It was mid July when we found out that we were expecting...again. And it was a surprise to us....again. And as I wrestled with the direction that God was taking our family, I really honestly did have faith that He knew what was going on. Because I have been through a number of things in my life that have been a roller coaster of events and God has never, EVER let me down in the midst of pain and confusion and a slew of other emotions and experiences. So I was ready...well, mostly ready. Okay, kinda ready.

By August, after I had survived crazy weekends, crazy hormones and Vacation Bible School, I really WAS ready. My tummy was popping out a little bit. I was puking all the time. This was the real deal baby! Ohhhh, baby. A Zab baby. Yes. I love those Zab babies. I love my Zab Mister. This is good.

At least, that's how I felt most of the time. Other times, I wished I wasn't pregnant. The pregnancy was bringing some insane complications into my life and making it VERY difficult to function. I wrestled with depression, anger, and a little bit of bitterness. However, I never felt alone. God was there. My amazing friends were SO there. And my husband...oh he is the best. So onward we went.

Saturday, September 25, I awoke with some spotting. Nothing that was a big deal. But enough to puzzlingly tilt my head at. At a split moment of panic, collecting all the struggles I'd had with this pregnancy and adding them up to equal a whole lot of "Mom Guilt" I said to David, "I really really need everything to be okay right now." David and I decided a trip to the ER might be a good idea. Kids were easily squared away (thank you God!) and we were off. David even brought the camera for when we were done thinking it would be fun to wander around downtown and take pictures of stuff.

The ER wasn't crowded (thank you God!-keep track of these) and we were shown to our bed right away. And moments later, we were whisked away to Ultrasound. "Maybe we will get to see if it's a boy or a girl today!" When the tech pulled up our images, I saw the baby. Our baby! This was David's first time getting to see our little Peanut. But the baby was really really still. And I didn't see anything in the baby's middle that looked like a heartbeat. I dismissed it. But that gut feeling spread all over when the tech quickly jumped to take pictures of ovaries and then got up to consult with the radiologist.

The radiologist came in and asked me some questions regarding baby movement, other complications during pregnancy and the like. She then told us that from what she could see, the baby was no longer alive.

I think I blinked at her a whole lot and wondered whose life I had wandered into because THIS was not happening to ME. Remember, I had called for everything to be okay just that morning. Remember? The next 30 minutes contained a lot of crying and holding each other and staring and more crying. I was shocked how quickly my tummy could go from feeling full with life to empty and void.

The rest of the day at the hospital had us seeing more doctors, being told of all the decisions we would have to make and many many heartbreaking texts and phone calls to our friends and family. I prayed Jesus would come back. I prayed that somehow I would never have to leave the hospital room I was in. I prayed that these doctors were wrong and by the POWER of CHRIST may my baby be ALIVE.

None of those things happened. Instead I found myself surrounded by caring doctors and nurses offering their condolences. Treating me kindly as a human being (thank you God!) and treating our baby as a human being as well. (Thank you God!) We checked out of the hospital feeling "crushed in spirit" and unsure what life looked like on this side of a great loss. The headache I had been nursing all day long was pounding all kinds of thoughts in and out of my head and finally beat me so badly that David had to pull the car over so I could be sick on the side of the road.

We drove to my mom's house where she and her husband Tim, my sister Kristy and her husband Kris had been wrangling kids all day. There were a lot of hugs and tears and some bits and pieces of normal conversation. And the time came to talk to Nathan and Lucy about what had happened. Ella was napping so we all gathered around in the living room. As we told the kids, Nathan began crying. At 7 years old, he understands death and loss on a greater level than Lucy. We told the kids that our baby was in heaven with Jesus. Joked that the baby was possibly riding around on Grandma Great's walker like Nathan used to do when he was little and how our baby was now living with no pain or sadness. Nathan, who was sitting on my lap, looked at me and said, "You mean like the pain and sadness we are feeling right now?" I told him he was exactly right. My family then prayed over us. We were lifted up to the Father to be cared for. We sat there empty and shocked and grieving. David broke down in a way I have never seen in 15 years together. That prompted Lucy to also start crying. I held my daughter in one arm and my strong husband in another. This whole situation feeling so foreign and ill-fitting to me as Kris poured beautiful words of healing over our wounds, lifting us up in prayer.

When we were done, Lucy looked up at me and looked deep into my eyes. "Does this mean we won't get to go swimming at Grandma Sisi's?" And when she was told we wouldn't be swimming, a whole new batch of tears began. My mom, recognizing the need David and I had to be with our kids but also needing a bit of a break (and also her own need to have a freckled five year old to squeeze) offered to keep Lucy overnight. (Thank you God!) We bundled everyone else up, went home and tucked them into bed.

Our Saturday was over. We survived the worst day of our lives.
We fell asleep holding one another, crying and praying for strength.

But this was not the end of our story.....

Psalm 139:13

You can Read Part One of our story here

*This part of our story includes medical information that may make some people uncomfortable. I will, of course, aim to be as tasteful and modest as possible. But I also wanted to give fair warning before we continue.*

I woke up the next day-Sunday-morning and heard David taking a shower. Ella was talking and playing in her bed and Nate was probably off reading a Calvin and Hobbes comic book somewhere. I needeed to get up becasue we had decided to take Nate to his baseball game. But first I just laid there with my eyes shut. I forced myself to feel everything Iw as feeling. I told myself, "This is what it feels like to wake up in the morning knowing your child is dead." And then I began crying.

I sobbed into my pillow. I cried for my loss, the loss of my children of their sibling. I cried knowing that this was a child who had the potential to be one of the most fantastic people on the face of the earth--but no more. I would never know this child. I hadn't even felt this baby move.

I felt safe to cry because David was in the shower. He needed a break. He needed to go a few minutes without having to hold me and mop up after me. But I forgot about Nathan who has some sort of radar built in to come and find me when i am crying. I felt him climb into bed with me and wrap his arms around me and beg me to tell him what was wrong. I heard the panic in his voice and I pulled myself together enough to tell him, "I miss our baby." I cried some more and Nathan didn't let go. He held me and said he understood.My wise 7 year old just let me cry some more and then offered encouragement, "You know Mommy, in 20, 30 or 40 years, you will get to see the baby again in heaven." I wanted to slug him (20 years? I will only be 53!) and smooch him all at the same time. (Thank you God for Nathan!) (Remember, you are keeping track of all of these.) When David came out of the shower, I felt better for the moment and we gathered ourselves off to baseball.

The rest of the day was a blur. There were a lot of tears. I didn't talk on the phone a whole lot but texted a few people. My Mom kept Lucy who was really doing well and loving her one-on-one time with Grandma Sisi. that evening, our next door neighbor who just started teaching AWANA at our church took all of the kids with her to AWANA so David and I could be alone. (Thank you God!)

We had some hard conversations. We had to talk about the practical side of things. My child was still inside and was going to have to come out one way or another. But what was right? Go to a hospital, do things clinically, cleanly, with experts around us and risk that we'd be in a room of people who would not regard our child as a being with a soul? Or do we opt or fight to have the process occur naturally at home and run the medical risk plus the emotions of associating a room in our home with losing our baby? We were overwhelmed. We handed the decision to God. Begged Him to make it clear what would be best for the two of us. And then we talked out both scenarios so we would be prepared when the time came. I had a doctor's appointment Monday evening but a friend who had been sharing her wisdom and experience with me guessed that Nature would take it's course before then. My gut agreed. The same gut that was feeling crampy all evening.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I had survived another day.
I still did not feel alone. I still felt some peace, bits and pieces of it. But I still didn't feel like anything that was happening was real, either.

Monday morning we all got up and got the big kids ready for school. David got to see the crazy process and go through the steps I take every day as one of those moms who stands on the campus watching her kids walk to class till there isn't anything left to watch. while talking to some girlfriends who knew about Saturday, the cramps I had been feeling began to grow stronger.

When we got home, I sat next to Ella in her high chair and watched her eat breakfast. the "cramps" were beginning to feel familiar-more like contractions. David called the clinic and wondered what to do when suddenly I had the feeling of my water breaking. We had already discussed that I would go to our upstairs bathroom and we met up there. By the time I had removed my pants and another gush of blood came, I was pushing. It was a very strange mix of both the totally familiar but completely unreal.

I knew when the baby had come out and-as we had discussed-David looked the baby over to see if it was intact. This was something I had been warned about and had decided I only wanted to see if the baby was whole. It was. (Thank you, thank you, thank you God!) I looked down at my....son. Yes, no doubt it was a boy. Just as I had suspected. He had tiny little ear flaps and dark black little eyes, he had a miniature button nose and a sweet mouth turned downward. One hand was on his chest and the other was laying to his side with his palm open and David saw all 5 fingers. He looked like a baby. This was our son.

David and I sat and held each other again just like we had been doing for the last 2 days but this time we were thankful, joyful even, and yet grieving. We cried and prayed and just looked at him. We knew that our prayers had been answered and as we sat there totally alone, with Ella perfectly happy in her high chair eating breakfast downstairs. (Thank You God!) We were so thankful that this morning had been put together to fit exactly what we needed. We needed to do this in private, we needed to have time with our son. What a gift this moment was.

We hadn't discussed what to put the baby in but made a decision and I insisted that he be wrapped in a baby blanket. David was not sure where to look for one and with my organizational skills, knew it might not be easy to find. However, just the night before I walked into the kitchen to find a baby blanket on the kitchen floor. I don't know why it was there. Ella or Lucy probably dragged it downstairs to play with. I'd picked it up and tossed it on the counter. I gave David specific directions and we had our blanket. (Thank You God!) I found out later that there were TWO baby blankets on the counter. David got to pick which one to wrap our boy in! Just explain that to me...I can by saying: Thank You God!

We needed to go to the doctor so I made a few phone calls while David attended to the baby. Michelle was coming for Ella and my mom had amazingly offered to clean up our bathroom while we were gone. (Thank You God!) David helped me out of the tub and suddenly I felt dizzy. I was sure it would pass and I lowered myself back down. The tunnel vision began and I kept saying, "I'm fine! I'm fine! Don't call 911, I'm fine!" Apparently those words turned into something more of an "ImfiiineI'mfinefinefine." The last thing I remember is hearing David, "That's it." and the sound of his phone dialing 911.

I had dreams....dreams of throwing up, (ewww!) dreams of a taalll man in dark blue standing over me and not feeling afraid (the paramedic standing on my bathtub while getting me out) and a mustache with kind eyes asking me what day it was and panicking because I actually didn't know-not because I had brain damage. On the way out of my house, I saw Michelle who had been called to come over when everything was fine and met the paramedics at my door. I couldn't stop apologizing to her because I knew my body's actions were making her face look so worried. On our way out, David handed our wrapped up baby to the paramedics. I was told later that as he did, he said firmly to the men, "Don't do anything distasteful in front of my wife."

I can't tell that part of the story without crying. When I heard those words I was struck and overcome with the amount of selflessness my husband was displaying in that moment. We both lost a son. We both had seen him and felt the pain. There wasn't one grieving more than the other. But he knew how important it was to me for our baby to be treated with dignity. I have an amazing husband (but that is a whole other blog for a whole other time.)

I spent the rest of the day in the hospital. My amazing amazing school mom friends took my big kids from school to Chuck E Cheese. My mom, sister, sister's husband, and bestie Michelle cleaned my downstairs and kitchen. Folded and washed a ton of laundry and I still can't find the little pan I cook my eggs in. And then they fed, cleaned, jammied and loved my 3 kids while I was gone. My pastor came up and visited with book in hand to read out loud. And the text messages and phone calls and e-mails poured in. The love, support, kindness--all overwhelming. It was impossible to overlook as anything but a blessing. Thank You God! (And thank you to all our friends!)

When I was young, my mom had a book called "A Child is Born" that had amazing pictures of real babies while they were still in the womb. I was delighted to find my own copy of the same version of that book right after I got married. And then only a few years ago, I found an updated copy. the pictures are stunning, moving (sometimes distrubing and not fit for the young children in your house) but all of it is an amazing display of the details that God has put into the making of a human. A week or two ago, I wnated to see if there was a photo that represented where our son was in the development process. The kids were interested and I knewmy family would want to see but mostly so I could have an additional image in my head of what he looked like. I wasn't sure if I would find one that was exact but I looked through every single page.

And, I am thankful and pleased to be able to share this picture with you. Because this is what my son looked like....

Psalm 139:13
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.

My dad called for an update while I was in the hospital and since I was stable, we got to talk. He was grieved and I could hear the pain in his voice as I told him everything that had happened. He said to me, "I can only imagine that this is the worst day of your life."

I paused and told him, "No. Saturday was the worst day of my life. On Saturday, my baby was dead. But today? Today I got to meet my son."

Having a Baby After Losing a Baby

November 30, 2011

Today is the final NaBloPoMo post and the final of my sometimes series on Confessions. And this one is kind of a big one.

I have been trying to figure out if I wanted to write about this or not and ultimately decided that I am going to write, not really re-read and do my best to not delete. I just want to get my thoughts and answers out there despite the jumbled, exhausted, twitchy, insomnia'd person who is doing the typing. (That person is me.)

We are 27 weeks pregnant now.

I have passed the one year mark of when I delivered Elijah and I was pregnant on that day. We have long passed the 16/18 week mark of Elijah's gestational age with this child. And, I am not carrying a boy.

Confession: I miss my son. Achingly so, on some days. It is possible to find me crying over our loss while driving and listening to any number of songs about Heaven. Or while looking at drawings of "Our Family" done by my children with Elijah included and hanging out in the clouds.

When we told people we were expecting this baby I am carrying now, I saw in many eyes, in the very background after expressing their joy, the question: Are you okay with this?

Most days: Yes.

Very few days: NO.

But how can I express the grab bag of feelings that comes with knowing that if Elijah had survived, this little girl currently being knit together would not exist? How do I express joy over my new sweet life when it only is possible because of the expiration of another soul?

Simply stated, I cannot.

There is no way to accurately document, report, communicate the myriad of sorrow and joy.

In September, my sister delivered her first child. It was only the second childbirth I got to watch and it was the most amazing thing to see her accomplish. Joshua Jordan gets his middle name from me just as my own Lucy Joy gets her middle name from my sister. And when they settled on that name, it was overwhelming to know that there was a being on the earth who was my namesake. I told Kristy that it is almost too much pressure to put on a person!

It was a few hours before I got to hold Joshua. Kristy and her hubby Kris were in their recovery room getting all settled in, all the grandmas had their snuggles and it was my turn. Kris's mother placed Joshua in my arms, the first newborn I had held in a very long time, and I choked on my emotions. I cried at his beauty, I cried at the amazing man I can already tell he will one day become. I cried because I was holding proof of God granting second chances.

And I cried because he wasn't MY newborn son.

I turned away, so very aware of all the eyes in the room on me. My sister knew-she always knows, even moments after giving birth-what I was struggling with. I wanted to take the baby and run out the door. Spend some time with him all alone and cry and cry and cry. But that was not an option. Instead, I swallowed the feelings as best I could so I wouldn't make a spectacle of myself and handed Joshua over to the next person in line.

That night, in my hotel room, I cried for hours. It was the sad, bitter, pity cry you have for yourself. It felt selfish and did not contain emotions I felt I could express in the daytime. I was feeling very sorry for myself and then angry at myself for being so selfish and then the sorry would wash all my chastising away and I would return to my pity.

I wrote a long e-mail to David, tried to convey everything I was feeling and that helped me to calm down.

I spoke to God in long run-on sentences that may or may not have made sense and were punctuated with the closing of my tired eyes.

And I slept.

When I woke up, I found the pity had diminished. I was thankful to go and visit my nephew. when I held him I felt that sense of completeness that comes with a newborn. I held him as if my arms had been longing for this little nephew all of my life.

God heard me. Saw me. Cared for me.

So as I continue on with this pregnancy, it is not unusual for my sister to get a text saying, "I think I might actually have this baby!" Not in a crass way but in a surprising way. My experiences with Elijah have left me raw but they also left me knowing to appreciate every moment. Even the current ones filled with exhaustion but no sleep and kicking and rolling and stretching. Each movement of this little girl is exactly what I am supposed to be feeling and I enjoy it knowing that at any moment, it could be lost.

If my pregnancy, dear reader, has caused you to wonder how I am handling another pregnancy so close to come after losing Elijah, then I would like to give you the "Yes I am fine/No, I am not fine" answer which is fairly unsatisfactory as far as an answer goes.

Instead, I will answer any question with honesty and I will be sure to add on that

God is Good. He has taken care of me in the time of my greatest need and I can trust Him with the life of this girl. Not because I "know" everything will be okay "because God wouldn't allow me to lose 2 kids in a row...." but because I know God loves me. He has proved it time and time again.

And a God who loves me will never hang me out to dry.