I remember

Dear Calvin,

I have been thinking about you a lot lately. I have been remembering.

I can still picture the hospital room. I can still picture saying good bye to you. How hard it was to let you go and give you to the nurse to take you to the morgue. The morgue. I remember the tears that your daddy and I cried as she pushed you away in that bassinet. She had to have a security guard escort her.

I remember walking out of the hospital room without you. Walking down the hall with rooms filled with happy moms and dads and new babies crying. I remember walking out of the building, our arms empty.

I remember how hard it was to feel connected to you, even though I didn't want to let you go, because I knew that it was just your body. Just your shell and that You were already gone. I remember how hard it was to leave the hospital. It was all hard.

I remember waking up in the middle of the night sobbing uncontrollably. How your daddy woke to my cries and crawled into bed with me while your little body rested in the bassinet at the end of the hospital bed.

I remember how sorry I felt. How I felt like I failed you. As your mom it was my job to protect you and I didn't. I couldn't. I am still so sorry.

My sweet, sweet boy. I remember. I remember. I remember.

And I am sorry. xoxo, mommy

Might as Well Just Get Myself a Typewriter

It's hard to imagine, in this technological age, that Adam and I ever lived without a computer, but the truth is, until about five years ago we did. Our first computer purchase together (because my parents had gotten me one in high school, that I dragged to college, that eventually died) was when I was home with Hope and desperate for something aside from the television to keep me company with a baby that never talked to me.

After putting a lot of thought and research into it, we decided on a Mac laptop. One that we loved from the start and that has survived numerous falls onto tile floor. It is, in fact, the computer I type this on now.

Five years doesn't seem like that long, but apparently for the life of an electronic it is ancient, as I have recently found out some rough news. There are web sites that our old web browser can no longer support and in my search to update our web browser I learned that OUR COMPUTER IS TOO OLD TO SUPPORT A NEW WEB BROWSER.

Do you realize what this means? I can't even update the software on our computer because our computer is too old to support it.

I do understand that this is a first world problem and all, but, really!? I have to buy a new computer in order to use certain websites? Lame. (And, most likely not going to happen.) What makes me especially frustrated is that I used a free photo editor website to make collages and edit photos and that is one of the sites that no longer works.

But, aside from buy a new computer, what else can I do? Just complain and complain and post fewer pictures and never update the photo at the top of this here blog. (Life is hard, I tell you.) I'm sure that I will get over it... someday.

Just not today. I'm going to spend a little more time being annoyed first. (You can find me pouting in the corner.)

In other news, tomorrow (after school) is the start of Spring Break which I've decided means it's actually going to start feeling like spring around here. I will totally ignore the fact that snow was falling today, and focus instead on the rain beforehand that melted some of the massive snowbanks still lingering.

Happy Spring!

xoxo, christine

"Just" A Cold

I have been sick this week. Not pregnancy-related sick, but just sick. Which is good? bad? both? neither? I'm not entirely sure. Although if I was nauseated I could at least take something for it. This cold is actually kicking my butt.

I've had many colds this past year, most of which turned into painful sinus infections, but this cold is painful in a different way. It has completely drained any and all energy I might have possessed. My nose is simultaneously dripping like a leaking faucet and yet plugged up like a drain that won't go down. Although I don't have a fever my body aches feel hit-by-a-truck worthy, while every time I get up to do something I am left breathless.

Today is better, which is good because after a day and half (I know, only a day and half? I'm such a whiner), I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.

The girls, to their credit, have been good and mostly well-behaved. They've been pretty independent, with some bopping in and out of my room. The television and my mom have been life-savers, providing a lot of distraction and help.

I am still far from myself though. After feeling a bit better this morning, I think I pushed myself too far and am quite ready for a long rest in bed. Luckily, Paige just set up a "secret hideout" in our bedroom and is currently hidden away while enjoying a few games on the iPad.

Pretty sure that's my cue to close up shop and take a siesta.

Sending healthy wishes to all!

xoxo, christine

Movement

I can feel her, pushing and flipping, stretching and kicking. She is reminding me, It's okay, Mom. I'm here and I'm okay. The flutters and pokes are gentle reassurances that she is alive and healthy and growing strong.

I have reached the point that is considered comfortably pregnant, although my definition of "comfortable" must be different than those in the books because I feel like I went from first-trimester nausea and vomiting straight to large and not-so-in-charge.

Still, even with the awkward flipping from side-to-side during the night and the almost constant lower backache, I know that this pregnancy is a gift. One that is worth the fitful sleep and aches and pains.

Adam felt her movement for the first time last week. This is always one of my most favorite moments of pregnancy, when the kicks get strong enough for the daddy to feel too. The girls have yet to feel anything, despite our best efforts to place their hands in the right spot at the exact right time.

It's as if their sister is already playing with and teasing them because as many flips as she's doing, as soon as I beckon the girls over the movement stops. We joke that she's saying, Oh! My big sisters are coming to feel me move? Quick, I'll pretend to be asleep.

The girls giggle and laugh and Hope blows raspberries on my belly to tickle Baby Girl and Paige will have conversations with my belly, making her voice an octave higher when she's being the voice of the baby.

It is sweet, and beautiful. And I am excited for the time the girls catch their sister in the act, letting everyone know the reality of her growing inside me.

I don't want to wish time away, but I can't wait for our Baby Girl to be here. I can't wait to hold her and kiss her and smell her and hear her newborn cries. But until that moment I will cherish the moments I can feel her right now. Each poke and prod a reminder to me that things are as they should be, that she is growing stronger every day.

xoxo, christine

His Blue Blanket

I miss my son.

As much as I obsess about this current pregnancy and the potential for losing it, this pregnancy has also provided me with a distraction from my grief of losing Calvin. I'm pretty sure that I have been avoiding some feelings, and pushing things down, slightly aware that my grief will come back and take me by surprise. That sometime in the future I will need to do more processing, that which I am avoiding right now.

We still talk about Calvin. (Of course we do.) Paige will bring up Baby Calvin. Hope will point up toward the sky in reference to him always being with us. His name doesn't come up all the time, but it happens most often when we talk about our family, and even when we talk about this baby who is currently growing within me. When Hope drew a picture of our family as flowers she included the four of us, the baby in my belly, and a teeny tiny daisy for baby Calvin - since he was teeny tiny.

The past two nights my heart has felt heavy, my body overwhelmed with emotion, my tears flowing freely. I want to hold him again. I want to kiss him again. I want to tell him I love him. I want to hear him cry, even though we never got to.

I've been sleeping with one of his blankets. One of the blankets he never really got to use. It had a spot by my pillow for many months, but the past two nights I've held it against my heart. It's just symbolic since it never got to become his own, but it's all I can do to feel closeness and comfort. It's all I can do for my grief.

xoxo, christine

Pink or Blue?

We had our twenty-week ultrasound on Friday, and before I go any further I will say that everything went well and the baby looks good and healthy. (Which, in all honesty, even with all my worrying I expected a good report since we've had good results with our screening tests. Of course, that also doesn't stop me from all the fears still of this baby dying...)

In any case, it was a much more enjoyable and happier experience than our twenty-week ultrasound last June. The baby looks good, measured about two days earlier, and is even doing practice breaths, which our technician explained is pretty uncommon this early. Our baby's already an over-achiever. :)

I can't remember if I mentioned this before (and I'm too lazy to go back and read earlier posts to find out), but although we are normally "lets me be surprised and not find out the gender of the baby until it's born" we decided to find out the sex of our baby this time.

Part of the reason we made a difference choice this pregnancy was because we found out with Calvin and we really like knowing. But the bigger reason, for me anyway, was that I felt that finding out whether our baby was a boy or girl would help me make a bigger connection with this baby. It was very hard for me to think of this pregnancy in terms of a baby and I wanted to give myself every opportunity to feel connected and close to the baby inside me.

Of course, I had no problem feeling a deep connection with either Hope or Paige, even not knowing they were girls, but this pregnancy felt different. This pregnancy is different. Finding out whether it is a boy or girl is good for me this time around. It's what I needed.

So, as I'm sure you're ready for me to just cut to the chase and say it already.

My mother-in-law said it best:

We are just tickled pink.

xoxo, christine

It Doesn't Always Start Out as a Good Night

My Wednesday night consisted of:

OH MY GOODNESS I AM DONE WITH ALL THINGS AND THE WHINING AND THE CRYING AND THE COMPLAINING ABOUT EVERYTHING AND THE NOT EATING DINNER AND THE MESSES IN EVERY ROOM AND I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE AND I AM DONE WITH ALL THINGS PLEASE FOR THE LOVE JUST GO TO SLEEP.

And even though I was feeling all the things, I was at the same time trying to be understanding because my six-year-old had been up since before 6:30am and hadn't eaten anything since 4:00pm and who wouldn't be crabby given that equation?

Heck, I got more sleep than she did, ate an actual dinner, and by the end of the night I was ready to throw up my hands, stomp my feet, and scream and cry and hide under the covers.

I managed to get them to bed with very minimal yelling (go me!) but perhaps a lot of frustration and exasperation (well, you win some you lose some), but once they were all snuggled and tucked in bed and we all breathed a big End Of The Day Sigh the day was over and we all survived.

As I tucked my six-year-old in and sat with her I had a fleeting moment of major mom guilt, because of course she was falling apart tonight and why wasn't I more patient and understanding? Shortly before her eyes closed I reminded her how much I love her and how sorry I was that today was so hard for her and how sorry I was that I got so frustrated.

And mostly the mom guilt passed me by as I kissed their foreheads and brushed the hair off their faces and remembered that even with all the hard things I love them so much and I love being a mother. I love being their mother. And I would do it all a million times over, even the hard times, even if I'm not the greatest and bestest at handling those hard times.

We all have easy days and hard days, good moments and bad moments, six-year-olds, three-year-olds and moms alike. It was perhaps not my best night, but I certainly have had worse parenting outbursts, and at least I was able to (mostly) keep the ALL CAPS feelings inside -- although I was extremely tempted to "yell" my frustrations out on Facebook.

I survived. We survived. And we even ended the night with a hug and kiss and a happy good-night, which isn't always the case in these situations. They fell asleep almost instantaneously, while I curled up in front of the tv with a glass of milk and an extra large brownie.

And we all had sweet dreams. Good night.

xoxo, christine

Five Things I Should Give Up for Lent

1.  Making commitments due to guilt. Feeling guilty about things I am doing. Feeling guilty about things I am not doing. Actually, I should just give up guilt altogether, but oh-so-impossible because the Catholic Guilt is strong in this one.

2.  Procrastinating. (Facebook. Email. Facebook. Buzzfeed. Huffington Post. Facebook. Candy Crush. Facebook.)

3.  Sleeping in. But my bed is so comfy and we just moved our furniture upstairs and it's like a cozy retreat and I'm just going to close my eyes for a few more minutes....zzzz

4. Not shaving. So basically I should give up being hairy. It's about time to start keeping up with these things...m'kay? Of course, given my Yetiness, it will probably take all forty days just to get this situation under control.

5. My sanity. I hear that sanity is highly over-rated anyway, so I might as well let go of any last remaining shred I had and be free. Here's to insanity!


*****

What am I really going to give up for Lent, you may be wondering? I suppose I should get that figured out today. Until I decide I better not do anything, think anything, or eat anything. Don't want to start these forty days with a failure.

xoxo, christine