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because of them

November 12, 2012 By 15 Comments

Oh November, you bring with you such a mixed bag of emotions and moods and thoughts for me.

I love fall.  I do. I love crisp leaves and pumpkin spice lattes and leggings with boots and scarves.

But you make it so hard to really love those things with all the other stuff you bring with them.

With daylight savings time, you make my world darker, making me consider a SAD lamp every year. But I am cheap and delusional that I can get away without any SAD this year.

You also bring the end of the first marking period at work with it’s fluster of GET ALL THE THINGS DONE NOW week, so you know, stress and anxiety kicks in.

You also have the election.  Even when it’s a non-presidential election year, there is still something that we are supposed to vote for and people get jazzed up and political commercials take over the TV where there should be commercials for erectile disorder and tampons.  You know, light topics. And try as I might to ignore it, know my own beliefs and not get sucked into the opposing view, I do anyway.

And then there is that other thing about November.

That thing that was supposed to happen five years ago, but didn’t.  And then again four years ago, but didn’t.

I never know how to talk about my miscarriages.

I think I am in the minority of miscarriage survivors when I say that I don’t think of them as people that weren’t.  At least not most of the time.

I think about how our life would have been different if, five years ago, we started our family.  And I like to think that the spirits that were possibly in those small balls of cells…if there were souls in them…are in heaven with Cort’s dad.

But I don’t think of them as ever being full-fledged babies.

I don’t think of them looking like anything.

I don’t think of them and wonder about their futures…because they weren’t meant to have one.  That was not the plan.

That sounds harsh, doesn’t it?  It sounds cruel and insensitive.

I don’t think that about other people’s miscarriage.  Especially those who have suffered so many and have never had the blessing of a full term baby.

I read in my devotions not that long ago that everyone has a purpose in this world.  The ones who die young fulfilled their purpose quickly…even if we don’t know that purpose.  If the purpose is never revealed to us, that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one.

I try not to play the “why” game.

I gave up on that game when Cort’s dad died.  There just wasn’t an answer that I was allowed to know.

I mean, I can conjecture from what I see has become of our life and how certain things wouldn’t be as they are without those tragedies, but I can’t say that was for sure the purpose of losing two pregnancies.

As I told my therapist last week, I never even thought of them as babies.

I’ve tried to.  I’ve called them babies, but after having Eddie and Charlie, that just didn’t feel right to me.

The first never progressed past a couple cell divisions before it quit.  It was my body that didn’t get that message.  My bodythought it was pregnant.  Had my body not mixed up that message, it would have passed without me ever knowing it was a miscarriage.

The second was a small dot on a screen.  But we never saw a heartbeat.

However, if I am being honest here, even seeing Eddie’s heartbeat for the first time didn’t convince me he was a real baby.  I know now that was probably a defense mechanism on my part.  And I am in no way saying anything about when I believe life starts (goodness knows I don’t want to start THAT debate here…this is about me and my experience only), I just don’t really grieve those lives that never were anymore.

I have a small box next to my bed with two hearts in it that represent those two pregnancies.

They were hugely important in my life.

The first convinced me I did, in fact, want to be a mother.

The second showed me my own strength and that I could get through physical pain that was greater than anything I ever thought I could endure.

Both pregnancies opened my eyes to who I am…a person I didn’t know I was.  A woman who was stronger and braver than I knew.

Both pregnancies are a puzzle piece to how our family was shaped.  How our attitudes toward loving each other fiercely and not holding grudges was fashioned.  How our persistent to be open in communication and our love for one another was created.

I know that those losses created an urgency of love and appreciation and living in the moment with those we love.

I know I am different because of them.  I know Cort is too.

I know Eddie and Charlie are seen through different eyes and loved with different hearts than they would had their not been loss before them.

But I don’t spend my November thinking about babies who weren’t born in this month.

And now, with the addition of my sweet new niece, Maria last weekend and the other niece, Lilly due in a couple weeks, I have two babies births to celebrate this month.

I don’t forget what I lost, but I don’t mourn it anymore either.

Instead I say a prayer of gratitude for all I have been blessed with despite the losses we have endured.

And we just are.

 

Filed Under: anxiety, depression, Katie, mental health, miscarriage, pregnancy Tagged With:

taking care of me FOR me

August 27, 2012 By 2 Comments

My friends hate me.

Actually, what they hate is that whenever I get pregnant, I lose weight.

No really.  I do.

It’s because I am by far the most healthiest when I am pregnant.

With Eddie, the minute I found out he was in there baking, I became incredibly self-conscious about what I was putting in my body since, you know, it was going in HIS body too. {and truth be told, after losing two pregnancies, I was hyper-sensitive about keeping Eddie in there at all costs}.

Either way, I only gained 19 pounds when I was pregnant with Eddie.

With Charlie I gained ZERO pounds.  Actually, I gained some weight in my 2nd tri, but it came off in my third.  I gave birth two pounds below my weight when I conceived the little Bird.

People were astounded.

Continue reading…

Filed Under: Katie, pregnancy, sponsored, writing Tagged With: ,

my hearts

July 12, 2012 By 30 Comments

These guys {and their dad} are my whole life.

But there was a time just over five years ago when I wasn’t sure I ever wanted kids.  It wasn’t just me.  Cort was in agreement with me.  We loved being just the two of us.  We had been married for a year and a half, were getting quite close to turning 30,  but all of our discussions about kids ended in,Not now. Just….not now.

Then one day in 2007 I took a pregnancy test because I was late.

I haven’t been able to write about that short pregnancy.  Mostly because I still can’t let go of thinking it’s abrupt ending was my fault.

The thing about that pregnancy, it convinced us that we wanted…very badly, in fact…to be parents.

The following year, I found myself pregnant again with almost the exact same due date as the year before.

This time we wanted it from the beginning.  We prayed and timidly allowed ourselves to be excited.

But it was no use.  We lost it.  I lost it.

I try so hard not to think about those little hearts.  Those little ones who did not make it.

It seems…fruitless.  Is that the right word?  I don’t even know.  It seems ungrateful.  There. That is better.

It seems ungrateful to dwell on the Lost Ones.

I mean, would I have my boys if I had them?

I can’t imagine our life without Eddie and Charlie.  They are meant to be our sons.  I know this just from looking at them.  They were meant to be here with us.

So why the first two?  Were they just random glitches?  Not meant to be thought of?  Not meant to be dreamed about?  Not…anything?

I can’t believe that either.

No, just because neither made it past “embryo” doesn’t mean they weren’t something.

Recently Cort and I were talking about his dad (I know this seems off topic, but bear with me) and how he would be so tickled about all his grandkids and seeing his own children become parents.

Sometimes on the happiest, most fun days with our boys and Cort’s siblings, he will get the saddest thinking about all his dad is missing.

I held his hand and told him something I had been keeping in my heart for a few years:

I believe our first babies are in heaven in order to give your dad some grandkids to play with right now.

Cort squeezed my hand and I knew he was struggling against tears.  He told me he liked that and I was probably right.

I don’t think of those miscarriages often anymore, but those unborn babies sit in my heart.  They were part of me even if for a short time.

Too many of my friends know of this pain, but one friend in particular has suffered this (more times than I have) and has become my heart buddy. No matter her struggles and pain, she remembers my fight too.  She never discounts my pain because it is “less” than hers.  She knows pain is pain.  And she knows I am fiercely praying for her with every beat of my heart.

She wrote a post about her five hearts who are not with her.

I cried. She is so strong. SO. DAMN. STRONG.

And do you know what she did?  She sent me two of my own hearts.

This past week I bought them a little “box” and now they reside on my nightstand.

I know it’s weird to say, but having those hearts right there, next to our family picture, next to where I sleep…it’s like they are home.

Something in my heart settled down the day those hearts arrived in the mail.

I held them in my hand today during nap time.

I closed my hand around them and felt their cool hardness.

And I quietly thanked them for my boys.

Without them I would not have Eddie and Charlie.

I would not have my boys.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him and he shall direct thy paths.”  ~Proverbs 3: 5-6

*************

Don’t forget about the minted giveaway I have going on over here!

And read about how I know NOTHING about Canada over here.

Filed Under: Katie, miscarriage, pregnancy, Sluiters Tagged With: ,

being washed

March 9, 2012 By 8 Comments

A breeze scattered a couple papers on my desk.

I looked up from my room supervisor’s manual and saw that a student must have opened the window during our in-room break during State Testing.

As I realigned my papers, it blew in again.

It wasn’t cold, but it it couldn’t be called warm either.

It had a hint to it.  A secret it carried.  Something it wanted to share, but didn’t know how.

If I closed my eyes and concentrated while letting it wash past me, I could almost touch it.

Warming earth.

Green stems just below the soil’s surface.

Buds waiting in branches.

I stood to roam the room and as I glanced to see that everyone was working on the correct test, and I heard the song of the robin.

A change of season.

Newness.

 

 

Filed Under: Charlie, pregnancy Tagged With:

Posts that I Didn’t Read

March 3, 2012 By 5 Comments

Oops.

This week got away from me.

I think I read like one thing all week and it was probably just a joke that someone posted on facebook.

So I have nothing to BOOM about today.

I DID have my second to the last OB visit yesterday.

I am measuring at 40 weeks (I am really 37.5 weeks), but that is what happened with Eddie too.

Everything else looks good.

I am going on record as guessing Charlie’s birth weight to be 8 lbs, 10 oz.since he will be born at 39 weeks, but is measuring big.

(Eddie was 9lbs, 8 oz and born on his due date, by the way)

Do you have a guess?

*************

Other places to find my writing from this week:

I reviewed the book The Book Thief on Katie’s Bookcase.

I have a post about Eating Real Food on Borderless News and Views today.

 

Filed Under: pregnancy, writing

zoom, zoom

February 28, 2012 By 16 Comments

37 weeks...just two to go!

Aw man!  My little helper has his eyes closed!

I just noticed!  Oh well…he is doing a GREAT job helping me!

Here we are…2 weeks from THE BIG DAY!

THE FACTS:

  1. I am measuring pretty darn close to the same as I was with Eddie at this time…about a week and a half ahead.
  2. By my calculations I have gained fewer than 10 pounds. The doc is not concerned, so neither am I.
  3. I’ve had my Group B Strep Test “in case” Charlie does something rebellious.
  4. I am all “pre-admitted” to the hospital for March 13.
  5. I am not dilated at all.  No shock there either.
  6. Two more belly measures/heart beat listens.
  7. eight more days of work (if we don’t have any snow days)
  8. I might be spoiling Eddie a little with my attention.
  9. The nursery is ready for a baby.

I will say I can tell I was super spoiled when I was in my 9th month pregnant with Eddie.  By the time I was four weeks out from my due date, school was done for the summer (Eddie is a June baby).  I spent my days putting my hugely swollen feet up, watching movies, and sleeping my days away.

I remember Cort asking when the nesting was going to start because I just kept getting lazier.

I never had to wear “real” pants in my last month.  It was sweats and jammies…with the exception of the weekend right before he was born when I wore a bridesmaid dress and almost got swallowed up by flooding from a monster storm.

This time I am working, wearing “real” clothes every day (that I secretly fear are going to just rip off my body if I bend to far), chasing a toddler, and going up and down our stairs a million times because his bedroom is down there now.

Perhaps this is why I have not gained much weight this time around.  Huh.

Last time all I had was time to sit around and think about Eddie being born.  The days and weeks dragged.

This time ZOOM!  Suddenly we are another week closer to Charlie.

I like it.

I like the zooming.

I am ready.

*************

Don’t forget to enter my GIVEAWAY!!

Filed Under: Charlie, pregnancy Tagged With: , , ,

unexpected

February 20, 2012 By 21 Comments

Friday was my pre-admission appointment at the hospital for my delivery and stay with Charlie.

I was asked of any medical conditions besides my drug allergies and my postpartum depression.

I said anxiety.

And had to catch the sob in my throat.

*************

I asked Cort to bring up the itty bitty clothes because I couldn’t stand it anymore.

He did.

I opened three totes of memories.

And my hands and feet erupted in sweat.

*************

Saturday morning Cort picks up the twin-size mattress we bought for Eddie.

Eddie is so excited to sleep on it, I go out and buy sheets so he can use it for nap.

He sleeps like a champ.

And asks to sleep there at night.

And nap on Sunday.

And for the rest of his life.

I cry in an empty nursery.

************

As I search for ways to be productive around the house, flashbacks of the weeks postpartum fill my vision.

I am unable to do anything.

The difficulty of moving with an abdominal wound.

The help I needed but never asked for.

My head spins.

************

Because Eddie wants to sleep permanently in his new room, he and I moved all his clothes to his new dresser.

It will be easier for Cort in the mornings.

I also put his diapers and some wipes in his room.

And then walked around aimlessly all day in a haze.

************

As I pee, I see my idea of the near future.

Trying to take care of postpartum body wounds and “stuff”.

A crying baby.

A needy toddler who thinks he “can do his own self.”

A husband gone to class.

************

I took Eddie’s name off the nursery wall.

He looked at them on the floor and asked me to put them in his “own room”.

I said Ok.

He smiled.

I turned away so he wouldn’t see my tears.

*************

I knew it would be awesome if we transitioned before Charlie was here.

But part of me wasn’t rushing anything.

And then he went and transitioned himself.

Without considering if I was ready.

*************

He can suddenly climb into his booster at the table himself.

He can go get his own tissues and diapers and anything else.

He carries things for me.

He not-so-routinely pees and poos on the potty.

He is so proud.

I…am proud…and heartbroken.

*************

I wanted a happy toddler and a squishy newborn.

But I am terrified.

This is just how it should happen.

And not at all how I thought it would happen.

Filed Under: anxiety, Charlie, depression, Eddie, Katie, mental health, pregnancy Tagged With: , , , ,

being ready

February 6, 2012 By 13 Comments

Dear Charlie,

In just five weeks it will be the eve of your birth.

I have many emotions swirling around in my head and heart when I think about the closeness of your arrival.

I get nervous stomach and sweaty palms from excitement and anxiety.

I have been replaying Eddie’s birth over and over in my head as I prepare to go under the knife again for you.  Eddie’s c-section  was an emergency.  I had been awake for over 24 hours and had been in labor most of that time.  I was exhausted and hardly knew what was going on.

With you, I have an appointment for the morning of March 13.  I will be able to shower, put on some comfy clothes, do my hair and light make-up, and walk into my room in the hospital.

I’m not nervous…but I am.

I mean, it’s surgery.  I think anyone who is going to go in to be cut open is a little bit nervous.

But I know what it’s like, so that helps.

As of this weekend, to distract my nerves and anxiety, I have been consumed with doing things around the house.  The problem?  I really can’t do any of the things I want to do.  This week we get carpet in Eddie’s new room and daddy will put together Eddie’s furniture, which means this weekend I can start to put Eddie’s books and toys and clothes away.

I have piles of stuff for you that I want to wash and put away, but I have to wait until Eddie’s stuff is put away first.

And lately other things have distracted me.  I think I have made mental lists of “stuff” I want to do/purge in every room of our house.

I wonder if this is what nesting feels like.

I never felt this way when I was pregnant with Eddie.  Daddy kept waiting for it to happen, but I just got more and more tired.

This time, I feel like cleaning things and organizing and purging.

I need to open up space for us to grow and be comfortable.

Right now I feel cluttered.

My mind, our house, my emotions…all cluttered.

Perhaps you have noticed that I have been trying to show Eddie a little extra love and attention lately.   To be honest, I have been afraid that he will feel left out once you are here.

You don’t know this yet, but you take up a lot of time and attention.  Time and attention that Eddie is used to completely having.

I know he won’t remember any of this. I don’t remember Uncle Chris being born and we are exactly the same age spread as you and Eddie.

But he knows what is happening NOW.  He has feelings NOW.

Up until you are born, Eddie’s place in this family is the only child.

That is going to change, but it will be even better.

He will get to add Big Brother and Oldest to his roles.

And you will be Little Brother and Youngest.

Our hearts and love will expand to encompass both of you in a completely new way that we can’t imagine yet.

I think not being able to imagine or understand is what makes my hands clammy and brings the nerves to my tummy.

But my heart knows it to be true.

I know they say to enjoy the pregnancy because it is so much easier to care for the baby when he is on the inside rather than when he is on the outside.

But I am ready for you to be here.

I am ready to lose sleep in order to feed and care for you.

I am ready to relearn feeding schedules and sleep schedules.

I am ready for giving warm baths in the infant tub and wrapping you up like a little burrito.

I am ready to fall asleep on the couch with you wrapped up tight next to me.

I am ready for Eddie and daddy to fall in love with you the way I already have.

I am ready.

Five more weeks.

Filed Under: Charlie, pregnancy Tagged With: ,

33 weeks is brought to you by two goof balls and a lamby

February 1, 2012 By 19 Comments

33 weeks

That means 6 weeks until Charlie’s debut.

As of my appointment on Friday everything looks (and sounds) fine and dandy.

Plus I lost two pounds.

Which my OB is not worried about since I started with…um…extra.

awesome.

I’m carrying higher and more in front this time.

Which means my shirts want to let the belly flow in the breeze from below.

Not my favorite thing, but whatever.

Sir Charles is training for the summer Olympics in there…I am sure of it.

My students just shake their heads and laugh when I walk past.

I think that’s a “big” joke, but I don’t even care anymore.

Big brother Prince Edward is excited…and concerned about what he will have to share ’round the Nation.

He should be excited….and concerned.

Our reality is about to change.

Soon.

Filed Under: Charlie, pregnancy Tagged With: , , ,

mental pacing

January 20, 2012 By 9 Comments

People?

I am getting restless.

Don’t get me wrong, I am exhausted.  But I am restless when it comes to preparing for Charlie.

Up until this point, I have enjoyed the fact that this pregnancy seems to be flying by.  I have been preoccupied with life and that has been just fine to me.

But now that Charlie is going to be here in LESS THAN TWO MONTHS, I am getting a metaphoric case of the paces.

My brain is doing the pacing, you see.

It is going back and forth and forth and back about what to do to prepare for this new Sluiter.

And no matter what way I look at it, I am stuck.

We have all the furniture we need for Eddie’s new room aside from a mattress and bedding.  But we don’t have carpet yet, so the furniture can’t be assembled and set up.  Which means I can’t move his clothes and toys down there.  Which means the nursery is crowded and still covered with HIS stuff.

There is nothing in our house that says, “a new baby is coming”.

I have started the process of ordering custom lettering for the nursery wall to spell Charlie’s name.

I want to move big boy toys to a big boy room and sort out all the baby toys and put them in the nursery.

I want to wash itty bitty clothes and blankets and stash them into the nursery.

I want to decorate and organize a Big Boy room with Eddie’s help so he will love it and feel comfy there before his brother arrives.

I  want to DO something to feel like the big change that IS coming is COMING.

At 31 weeks pregnant with Eddie we had the nursery complete and I was washing and organizing and storing diapers and lotions and baby washes and toys.

I had lots to keep my hands busy.

This time all I do is make mental lists with deadlines that just keep passing.

52 days until Charlie.

tick…tock…tick…is all I hear in my brain….

which continues to pace.

 

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