In the wake of my cousin losing her triplets, I feel like the only things I should feel are blessed and thankful and gracious. I have been bestowed with two wonderful gifts. In them, I am richer than I could ever deserve to be.
And yet....my heart hurts. I'm ready for another baby. Not just ready, but insanely consumed by the thought. While my house is full of love, I can't shake the feeling that there is someone missing. I yearn for the baby-to-be that I do not even know. There is a baby just waiting for us to welcome him/her. I feel sad for that baby. I cry for that baby.
The problem is...my husband does not agree. When I ask for another baby, he says, "No way. We already have too many." I began asking him casually about nine months ago. I didn't want another baby right then, but I wanted to know that baby no. 3 was a possibility. Each time, he flat out said "no." As Ryan is getting older, my desire is becoming more desperate. I've been asking more frequently. I still get the same response. "No. End of discussion."
Because he wants what is already the status quo, he automatically gets his way. He doesn't have to engage in a discussion. He doesn't have to talk it through with me. He automatically gets what he wants. I can't help but feel marginalized. I so desperately want to pound my fists, stomp my feet and scream, "It isn't FAIR!"
This week, I attended a party thrown by a long-time friend. It was populated by moms. Moms with babies. There were three babies in attendance. My friend, herself, is pregnant with her second. I held and loved the heck out of those babies. There was one precious 8 week old girl- the most gorgeous baby girl I had ever seen. I held her for hours. I smelled her sweet hair, grasped her tiny fingers, and rocked her gently as she snoozed in my arms. I came home and cried. A lot.
In fact, there has been a lot of crying this week. There have been more than a couple pregnancy announcements and baby births lately. I try so hard to be happy for the expectant couples. But all I can think about are my own empty arms. My own aching heart. It's selfish and immature. And just knowing that I SHOULD be overjoyed by the two babies I already have, my deep sadness is only compounded by guilt. I don't know what I'm going to do, I feel so helpless and alone. But I really do need to find a way to cope with hearing the word baby without wanting to run out of the room in tears.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Cousin Photos
It's become a holiday tradition to do an annual cousin photo shot for my mom. We always make her a Shutterfly photo calendar for Christmas so these pictures make for a great cover and fillers!
This year we ended up with some great photos and it was pretty painless. I think we got all these poses in less than 20 minutes. Last year, OMGosh it was TERRIBLE! The kids, the dads - it was a bad scene. What's so painful about taking pictures?
This year, I asked my sister to do a quick session for our Christmas cards - you would've thought I told all three cowboys we were going to get teeth pulled. Luckily we ended up with one great photo so it was worth it.
How'd we get that one photo? This sums it up perfectly....
Thanks again to my sweet sister that had to witness it all. Any tips on how to get everyone more willing and excited about the process? There is nothing more than I want than a beautiful family photo. A girl can dream...
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Tuesday Fashion Show
Working women have unique wardrobe problems.
Like, when your work wardrobe is in so much better shape than your casual wardrobe. I wake up on the weekends and stare gloomily at my casual clothes, which are old, unfashionable, stained, and in much disarray. I kind of suck at buying casual clothes/pulling together a cute casual outfit. I'm much more comfortable with my spectrum of skirts, tights, blouses, cardigans sweaters (one for every single color of a large crayola box), and blazers.
Also, whenever I put on a dress at home, the length seems totally appropriate and conservative. The second I step into a meeting, somehow my dress suddenly shrinks several inches and I feel like the conference room whore. I find myself hiding my legs under the tables. The unexplained mystery of wardrobe physics.
I have a small obsession with tights. Is that what people call them? I refuse to say the words....panty hose (shudder!)...or hosiery....(double shudder!). I was informed today that they are not stockings. But the word "tights" give me flashback images to white girly tights with little red hearts plastered all over them, you know, from elementary school. Anyway, I love tights. A nice, good pair of black sheers will dress up and classify ANY outfit. Opaques are ok...but I strongly prefer sheers (which are much harder to find, at least ones that you can wear more than once before The Rips appear). Also, it's amazing how a thin layer of tights can make you so much warmer. Magic?
I also have some fun patterned tights. But I'm less brave about wearing them. They are much harder to coordinate properly with an outfit. Today, my rose-patterned tights were staring sadly at me from my tights drawer. They needed some love. I happily obliged.
Forgive the bad quality/poor lighting.
As evident from my lame posing skills, I will NEVER be the next Miss America. But I think I'm OK with that.
Like, when your work wardrobe is in so much better shape than your casual wardrobe. I wake up on the weekends and stare gloomily at my casual clothes, which are old, unfashionable, stained, and in much disarray. I kind of suck at buying casual clothes/pulling together a cute casual outfit. I'm much more comfortable with my spectrum of skirts, tights, blouses, cardigans sweaters (one for every single color of a large crayola box), and blazers.
Also, whenever I put on a dress at home, the length seems totally appropriate and conservative. The second I step into a meeting, somehow my dress suddenly shrinks several inches and I feel like the conference room whore. I find myself hiding my legs under the tables. The unexplained mystery of wardrobe physics.
I have a small obsession with tights. Is that what people call them? I refuse to say the words....panty hose (shudder!)...or hosiery....(double shudder!). I was informed today that they are not stockings. But the word "tights" give me flashback images to white girly tights with little red hearts plastered all over them, you know, from elementary school. Anyway, I love tights. A nice, good pair of black sheers will dress up and classify ANY outfit. Opaques are ok...but I strongly prefer sheers (which are much harder to find, at least ones that you can wear more than once before The Rips appear). Also, it's amazing how a thin layer of tights can make you so much warmer. Magic?
I also have some fun patterned tights. But I'm less brave about wearing them. They are much harder to coordinate properly with an outfit. Today, my rose-patterned tights were staring sadly at me from my tights drawer. They needed some love. I happily obliged.
Forgive the bad quality/poor lighting.
As evident from my lame posing skills, I will NEVER be the next Miss America. But I think I'm OK with that.
Weekend Whoas
Our weekend was far from eventful. Granny called me late Friday afternoon to report that Kal woke up really congested and wheezing after his afternoon nap. By the time I was able to pick him up he was terrible and was running fever. I just knew we were going to end up in hospital like in the spring since it was too late to make a regular doctor's appointment. Luckily I still had breathing treatments and medications from his last "episode." Tyler made him a little croup tent with a humidifier and blankets and then we just stayed on top of medications. By bedtime he was playing and his fever had broke. We were so relieved and thankful.
On Saturday, Keeler and Tyler went to the farm. Kal and I took it easy. He was still sluggish and just wanted mommy. When the big cowboys got home, we Keeler and I decided it was time to decorate for Christmas! (Yes, we're "those" people.)
Mid Saturday afternoon through evening my house looked like Christmas had exploded!! I forgot how much work it is but it's so worth it. I love my new taller tree!! Keeler really wanted our old family Christmas tree in his room but Tyler talked him into one that was his same height - great thinking dad!
Mid Saturday afternoon through evening my house looked like Christmas had exploded!! I forgot how much work it is but it's so worth it. I love my new taller tree!! Keeler really wanted our old family Christmas tree in his room but Tyler talked him into one that was his same height - great thinking dad!
Yesterday I stayed home with Kallahan and took him to the doctor. She started him on some antibiotics and sugested we keep him on the steroid. There's nothing worse than seeing your children ill. I hate it. The only silver lining is I loved cuddling with him and having some relaxing one-on-one. We watched several episodes of Paw Patrol and then he took his afternoon nap on my lap. I soaked it all in.
Everyone seems to be feeling much better so it was back to routine and reality this morning. I really didn't want to leave the house. All I wanted to do is sit on the couch with my little cowboys, look at my tree and watch Hallmark movies. Anyone else addicted to the Holiday movies on the Hallmark channel? They just make my heart smile.
P.S. // a Christmas tour of homes is coming soon!
Monday, November 18, 2013
Sap-Tastic
I've had several jobs that were merely tolerable. Once I got to the office, I could tolerate my work and my work environment. But I would often hate having to go to bed because it meant accepting that I had to work the next day. I would wake up and dread having to go to work.
I felt this way about classes. I felt this way when I took orders at a pizza place in Chicago. I felt this way when I was a file clerk for a city's HR department. I felt this way when I worked for a year as a paralegal. I felt this way when I was a legal intern.
When I graduated from law school and started my first job as an associate attorney, I thought my excitement would eventually fade. And it did. A little. But in the 1.5 years that I worked for that law firm, I couldn't remember a single day where I dreaded work. Even if my assignments were unpleasant, my clients rough, my schedule packed, I enjoyed going to work every day. I looked forward to it, in fact. I thought I was a sick, soulless person. But when I worked as an associate attorney for my second law firm, I felt the same way. Even when I hated my work environment, I enjoyed my work. I was anxious to complete my 2 hour commute and arrive at my desk full of Important Things.
I assumed it was just litigation. I must be a sick, sick human who loves litigation, complete with lengthy motions, court-imposed deadlines, and strategic maneuvers. I love litigation with a passion (as long as I get to be on the defense side, anyway). I was very worried that my love for my work would turn stale upon taking a "general counsel" type position as a civil prosecutor. It turns out, I just really love being a lawyer.
I still favor litigation. We won a summary judgment dismissal recently and I'm in withdrawal from the case. To my co-workers' disgust, I'm hoping upon hope that they appeal the decision. I told you I'm a sick person. Also... APPELLATE BRIEFS = love. I also happen to love contract and insurance law above anything in the world so....that probably makes me certifiable.
But, I'm finding that I love my job even when I'm not handling litigation. In fact, I love how exciting and interesting my work as a "general counsel" for a government entity really is. In my two months in the new job, I've handled such a random collection of issues spanning the entire spectrum of law. Every new assignment involves a new area of law or a different nuance to an old area of law. I had no idea how satisfying this work would be. It turns out that civil prosecutors (in my county anyway) literally do everything. Even though I'm a newbie at the office, the fact that I've handled one or two assignments in a specialized area of law already makes me the resident expert in those areas. The fact that the scope of our work is so broad really does level the playing field for junior attorneys.
For a long, long time after lawschool, I was very bitter about my career path and the huge amount of indebtedness it caused. I has assumed, like most of my colleagues, that a law degree would bring a six-figure salary. If I knew then I'd barely be making HALF that upon graduation, I was sure I would have ran for the hills. I felt like my law degree was not worth the price I paid. I felt cheated. I had buyer's remorse. I regretted my decision. I had so much bitterness.
But looking back at everything now, I realize that it WAS worth it. Because I love what I'm doing. Absolutely love it. I know there is a career like that for everyone. A job that you love to do every single morning. A job that isalmost too good to be a "job." A job that you would continue to do even if money was not an issue. And law, as expensive as it may have been for me to get my foot in the door, just happens to be the perfect career for me. To have that passion and that love and that enthusiasm for the work that you will do everyday for the rest of your working life, is simply worth it. (P.S. if you are listening Direct Loans: I still wish I could keep more of my salary and not give it all away to you.)
Also, how can you not love coming to work to cabinets like this:
I know this post is sap-tastic. Sorry for that. I'm just feeling so incredibly blessed right now. In the morning, leave home for a job that I absolutely love that both challenges and fulfills me. And at night, I get to return to a home full of love and giggles and two sweet children. You know what? As much as I hate the phrase and the rhetoric that surrounds it, you really can have it all.*
*Caveat: I would like to qualify by saying that "having it all" is different for all people. It also isn't about being perfect or having things easy. My house is almost always a mess, we eat a lot of leftovers, and my kids wear the same clothes until they fail the smell test. God knows it is NOT easy to get both myself and the kids out of the house by 7:00 am each morning. And, oh Lordy, are they cranky as hell some evenings. But, despite the flaws and failures, I do have it all. And it's absolutely wonderful.
I felt this way about classes. I felt this way when I took orders at a pizza place in Chicago. I felt this way when I was a file clerk for a city's HR department. I felt this way when I worked for a year as a paralegal. I felt this way when I was a legal intern.
When I graduated from law school and started my first job as an associate attorney, I thought my excitement would eventually fade. And it did. A little. But in the 1.5 years that I worked for that law firm, I couldn't remember a single day where I dreaded work. Even if my assignments were unpleasant, my clients rough, my schedule packed, I enjoyed going to work every day. I looked forward to it, in fact. I thought I was a sick, soulless person. But when I worked as an associate attorney for my second law firm, I felt the same way. Even when I hated my work environment, I enjoyed my work. I was anxious to complete my 2 hour commute and arrive at my desk full of Important Things.
I assumed it was just litigation. I must be a sick, sick human who loves litigation, complete with lengthy motions, court-imposed deadlines, and strategic maneuvers. I love litigation with a passion (as long as I get to be on the defense side, anyway). I was very worried that my love for my work would turn stale upon taking a "general counsel" type position as a civil prosecutor. It turns out, I just really love being a lawyer.
I still favor litigation. We won a summary judgment dismissal recently and I'm in withdrawal from the case. To my co-workers' disgust, I'm hoping upon hope that they appeal the decision. I told you I'm a sick person. Also... APPELLATE BRIEFS = love. I also happen to love contract and insurance law above anything in the world so....that probably makes me certifiable.
But, I'm finding that I love my job even when I'm not handling litigation. In fact, I love how exciting and interesting my work as a "general counsel" for a government entity really is. In my two months in the new job, I've handled such a random collection of issues spanning the entire spectrum of law. Every new assignment involves a new area of law or a different nuance to an old area of law. I had no idea how satisfying this work would be. It turns out that civil prosecutors (in my county anyway) literally do everything. Even though I'm a newbie at the office, the fact that I've handled one or two assignments in a specialized area of law already makes me the resident expert in those areas. The fact that the scope of our work is so broad really does level the playing field for junior attorneys.
For a long, long time after lawschool, I was very bitter about my career path and the huge amount of indebtedness it caused. I has assumed, like most of my colleagues, that a law degree would bring a six-figure salary. If I knew then I'd barely be making HALF that upon graduation, I was sure I would have ran for the hills. I felt like my law degree was not worth the price I paid. I felt cheated. I had buyer's remorse. I regretted my decision. I had so much bitterness.
But looking back at everything now, I realize that it WAS worth it. Because I love what I'm doing. Absolutely love it. I know there is a career like that for everyone. A job that you love to do every single morning. A job that isalmost too good to be a "job." A job that you would continue to do even if money was not an issue. And law, as expensive as it may have been for me to get my foot in the door, just happens to be the perfect career for me. To have that passion and that love and that enthusiasm for the work that you will do everyday for the rest of your working life, is simply worth it. (P.S. if you are listening Direct Loans: I still wish I could keep more of my salary and not give it all away to you.)
Also, how can you not love coming to work to cabinets like this:
*Caveat: I would like to qualify by saying that "having it all" is different for all people. It also isn't about being perfect or having things easy. My house is almost always a mess, we eat a lot of leftovers, and my kids wear the same clothes until they fail the smell test. God knows it is NOT easy to get both myself and the kids out of the house by 7:00 am each morning. And, oh Lordy, are they cranky as hell some evenings. But, despite the flaws and failures, I do have it all. And it's absolutely wonderful.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Heartbreak
My heart is absolutely breaking.
My cousin-in-law has been battling infertility for three years. I only suffered through infertility for 13 months. My journey is nothing near what she is going through. But when I read some of her blog posts, I feel like I'm reading my own past feelings. Her sentiments and thoughts mirror my old thoughts to the T. I had forgotten how incredibly painful that year of my life had been. Now that I'm surrounded by messy, loud, giggling children, the pain is nearly forgotten.
The sorrow, the bitterness, the helplessness, the anger. I feel it all over again when I read her posts and when I relive those feelings. I realize that the shadow of that experience still clings to me in some way (and now that I'm wanting another baby, I'm fearing that I will have to face that ugly animal again- shudder). It has made me more understanding of loss. It has made me more grateful. It has made me hurt for others who are living in that darkness. But mostly, I'm just heartbroken for my cousin. Unless you have experienced infertility, it's a pain you cannot really know. I mean, as a mother, you can imagine it. But you cannot know it. And still, my pain is nothing near what her pain is. The pain and darkness I went through is only a small portion of her devastating experience.
Right now my cousing is going through something even WORSE than infertility, something I do not know. Something I could not ever imagine.
Last month, my cousin shared a video on her FB page announcing that she was 17 weeks pregnant with twins: a boy and a girl. She had initially been pregnant with triplets but lost one at 9 weeks. The whole world, it seemed, celebrated her immense joy. After all this time, so many failed procedures, a miscarriage, and three years of grief, she was finally getting her much-awaited blessings: not one, but TWO healthy, sweet babies!
But just days after sharing her news, the unthinkable....the water for one of her twins broke and she went into early labor. They tried to stop it, which worked for a while, but eventually she gave birth to her stillborn daughter. Despite her pain, she was able to hold on knowing that this improved the chances of survival for her remaining son. She was given the goal of needing to make it to at least 24 weeks before going into labor again, at which time her son would have a 39% chance of survival. Unfortunately, at 21 weeks, she lost her son as well.
She could feel her son's kicks. He was perfect and healthy and thriving. But delivering her daughter left her weak for an infection. And sadly, three weeks after the death of her daughter, she discovered that she did have an infection, which put her life and pregnancy at risk. Even though she could FEEL her healthy baby kicking, the doctors had to prematurely break his water and allow him to be delivered.
I can't imagine giving birth to one stillborn baby. But giving birth to two of them? In a short three weeks? After three years of ache and grief and heartbreak?
My cousin's story is dead and center of all my thoughts today. I can't stop thinking about her story, crying for her loss, trying to imagine that grief. My heart is broken too. To think that this type of pain can happen and does happen.
I looked on at my babies from a fresh perspective today. It hurts to know that I am so blessed when my cousin is going through so much. It hurts to know that our babies are both our greatest sources of joy and also our greatest vulnerabilities. Good things happen. Bad things happen. Wonderful things happen. Terrible things happen. We cannot control these things. My walk with God is a complicated one right now, but I like to think that we are helpless, but not forsaken. We are lonely, but not alone.
A tiny flower
Lent but not given
To bud on earth
And bloom in heaven
-Unknown
My cousin-in-law has been battling infertility for three years. I only suffered through infertility for 13 months. My journey is nothing near what she is going through. But when I read some of her blog posts, I feel like I'm reading my own past feelings. Her sentiments and thoughts mirror my old thoughts to the T. I had forgotten how incredibly painful that year of my life had been. Now that I'm surrounded by messy, loud, giggling children, the pain is nearly forgotten.
The sorrow, the bitterness, the helplessness, the anger. I feel it all over again when I read her posts and when I relive those feelings. I realize that the shadow of that experience still clings to me in some way (and now that I'm wanting another baby, I'm fearing that I will have to face that ugly animal again- shudder). It has made me more understanding of loss. It has made me more grateful. It has made me hurt for others who are living in that darkness. But mostly, I'm just heartbroken for my cousin. Unless you have experienced infertility, it's a pain you cannot really know. I mean, as a mother, you can imagine it. But you cannot know it. And still, my pain is nothing near what her pain is. The pain and darkness I went through is only a small portion of her devastating experience.
Right now my cousing is going through something even WORSE than infertility, something I do not know. Something I could not ever imagine.
Last month, my cousin shared a video on her FB page announcing that she was 17 weeks pregnant with twins: a boy and a girl. She had initially been pregnant with triplets but lost one at 9 weeks. The whole world, it seemed, celebrated her immense joy. After all this time, so many failed procedures, a miscarriage, and three years of grief, she was finally getting her much-awaited blessings: not one, but TWO healthy, sweet babies!
But just days after sharing her news, the unthinkable....the water for one of her twins broke and she went into early labor. They tried to stop it, which worked for a while, but eventually she gave birth to her stillborn daughter. Despite her pain, she was able to hold on knowing that this improved the chances of survival for her remaining son. She was given the goal of needing to make it to at least 24 weeks before going into labor again, at which time her son would have a 39% chance of survival. Unfortunately, at 21 weeks, she lost her son as well.
She could feel her son's kicks. He was perfect and healthy and thriving. But delivering her daughter left her weak for an infection. And sadly, three weeks after the death of her daughter, she discovered that she did have an infection, which put her life and pregnancy at risk. Even though she could FEEL her healthy baby kicking, the doctors had to prematurely break his water and allow him to be delivered.
I can't imagine giving birth to one stillborn baby. But giving birth to two of them? In a short three weeks? After three years of ache and grief and heartbreak?
My cousin's story is dead and center of all my thoughts today. I can't stop thinking about her story, crying for her loss, trying to imagine that grief. My heart is broken too. To think that this type of pain can happen and does happen.
I looked on at my babies from a fresh perspective today. It hurts to know that I am so blessed when my cousin is going through so much. It hurts to know that our babies are both our greatest sources of joy and also our greatest vulnerabilities. Good things happen. Bad things happen. Wonderful things happen. Terrible things happen. We cannot control these things. My walk with God is a complicated one right now, but I like to think that we are helpless, but not forsaken. We are lonely, but not alone.
A tiny flower
Lent but not given
To bud on earth
And bloom in heaven
-Unknown
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Convos With A 5 Year Old
Yes, kids say the darndest things. But for some reason, Jacob has been extra hilarious this week. I don't even know where he gets half this stuff!
Jacob: "Remember that time we went to India."
Me: "No, I don't remember that time we went to India."
Jacob: "Oh, well maybe you were drunk."
Me: "Wow Jake, that is really cool. I can't believe you made that."
Jacob: "Yeah mom, I'm a kid. And sometimes kids are cool."
Me: "Jacob, please get the train for Ryan"
Jacob: "He has hands. He can get it."
Jacob (after watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the movie): "That movie totally changed my life!"
Jacob: "Mommy, we need to talk about this. Did you throw my art in the garbage?"
Me: "Ummmm."
Jacob: "It's ok if you did. I just need you to tell the truth."
"Mom, do all of us have brains?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Even Ryan?"
I walked into the dining room where Ryan and Jacob were eating yogurt. Jacob had a handful of yogurt and was making "art" on the table, finger paint style. I didn't even blink because this is classic Jacob.
Me: "Jacob, please stop playing with your food."
Jacob: "It's not my food. It's Ryan's!"
Me: "We aren't going outside now. It's almost bed time."
Jacob: "No it's not."
Me: "Yes. It's night time."
Jacob: "But it's morning on the other side of the world."
And, the grand finale: On Wednesday, I picked up my kids from my mom's house. When I arrived, I saw a blur run by me. I was very confused for a second. I could have sworn that I had just seen a cat run by. A cat who has had its fur ripped out in little sections by another animal. It took me a second to register that the cat was, in fact, my son.
Jacob decided to give himself a haircut.
-002.jpg)
I can't decide what's worse, letting him go around looking like a wounded cat or completely shaving his head. In the meantime, we will stick with the status quo...because....less work.
Jacob: "Remember that time we went to India."
Me: "No, I don't remember that time we went to India."
Jacob: "Oh, well maybe you were drunk."
Me: "Wow Jake, that is really cool. I can't believe you made that."
Jacob: "Yeah mom, I'm a kid. And sometimes kids are cool."
Me: "Jacob, please get the train for Ryan"
Jacob: "He has hands. He can get it."
Jacob (after watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the movie): "That movie totally changed my life!"
Jacob: "Mommy, we need to talk about this. Did you throw my art in the garbage?"
Me: "Ummmm."
Jacob: "It's ok if you did. I just need you to tell the truth."
"Mom, do all of us have brains?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Even Ryan?"
I walked into the dining room where Ryan and Jacob were eating yogurt. Jacob had a handful of yogurt and was making "art" on the table, finger paint style. I didn't even blink because this is classic Jacob.
Me: "Jacob, please stop playing with your food."
Jacob: "It's not my food. It's Ryan's!"
Me: "We aren't going outside now. It's almost bed time."
Jacob: "No it's not."
Me: "Yes. It's night time."
Jacob: "But it's morning on the other side of the world."
And, the grand finale: On Wednesday, I picked up my kids from my mom's house. When I arrived, I saw a blur run by me. I was very confused for a second. I could have sworn that I had just seen a cat run by. A cat who has had its fur ripped out in little sections by another animal. It took me a second to register that the cat was, in fact, my son.
Jacob decided to give himself a haircut.
-002.jpg)
I can't decide what's worse, letting him go around looking like a wounded cat or completely shaving his head. In the meantime, we will stick with the status quo...because....less work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)