Because of her.

Two years.  Two years have passed since we found out our Wren had died.  She was our "rainbow baby" after our first 11 week loss.  She was the baby that was going to prove the first horrible loss was a fluke.  Sure I was scared when I was pregnant with her - but when we got past the 11 week mark and we had several great appointments and ultrasounds, I started to believe she was ok. She would be the daughter that completed our family.  She wasn't.   Two years ago I found out at a routine 16 week appointment that she had passed away and my life really did change.   The first loss was awful - the second loss was almost debilitating.  I felt so connected with her during those weeks I carried her.  And when I found out that she had died, my entire soul was ripped open raw and exposed.  I hated myself, I hated my body.  This was no fluke.  My body was broken, evil even.
And I missed her.  God  I missed her so much. I still do.  Two years later I miss her. I have a beautiful, awesome, healthy baby that my body did grow, nurture, and birth safely.  This is my first loss anniversary since giving birth to sweet Willow.  But I realize it doesn't mean I don't miss my Wren any less.  She has been a part of me for 2.5 years now and 2 of those years I have been missing her.
So today I remember Wren. Though life has continued,  she was and always will be a important part of my life.   Because of her I went through a high risk OB workup and identified some issues that were treated during my next pregnancy.  Because of her I did not take one day for granted while pregnant with Willow.    Because of her I notice wrens everywhere and I love it every single time.   Because of her I am confident we are finished having children, I feel like we tempted fate to have Willow and I can't do it again.  Because of her my heart is sad today.   

100% Family History of Cesarean

The maternal side of my family has quite the history of cesarean births.  Eleven to be exact.    My grandmother had three, my mother had three, my aunt had two, my older sister had two, and I have had one.  That is every single birth that we have had on the maternal side of my family for the past 80 years.  100%.  We blow the often discussed 1 in 3 babies are born by surgical birth out of the water.    And many of them started naturally - without induction.     The reasons for the cesareans in my family are varied  but several of them involved premature rupture of membranes, pitocin because of that, and then a ceserean due to failure to progress.   I realized this when I was pregnant with my son 5 years ago and I hoped maybe I could break the family tradition of births by cesarean.  I was really hoping to have a natural birth and knew that avoiding an induction I would decrease my chances of a cesarean birth.   Given my family history - I guess I shouldn't be too surprised how things turned out.  Premature rupture of membranes early in labor, pitocin, and then eventual c-section.   However, upon the c-section it was realized my son was brow presentation which is why I wasn't able to deliver him vaginally.

Thankfully I didn't dwell on the family history.  I actually didn't even think about it again until after the recent birth of my daughter.  While pregnant with her I worked my butt off to have a VBAC and just focused on doing what I could do to make that happen.  I found good providers, an excellent doula, I saw a chiropractor to encourage a good presentation during labor, I ate well, I trained for her birth using Hypnobabies, I didn't sit in a recliner because I was afraid I would mess up her presentation, and on and on.  And you know what?  I did it.  I had an amazing, empowering, all natural VBAC.   The first visitors to the hospital were two of my aunts and they reminded me of the fact that I was literally the first person in our family to have a vaginal birth.  The first!  That is crazy when you really think about it!  But at least now our family percentage of cesarean births went from 100% to 92%.  :)

So ladies -if you have a long (or complete, 100%) history of cesarean births in your family and you hope to have a different type of birth -  please have some hope.  Though we may be similar genetically or physically to our family members - how they birth does not mean that is how we will.  Though it might seem genetics or family history would suggest otherwise - my body knew exactly what to do.   It absolutely roared to life bringing my daughter into the world and my body did it. The entire thing - no premature rupture of membranes, no pitocin needed to "speed things along", and no failure to progress.  Ina May was right of course - my body really is not a lemon.  And you know what?  Neither is yours. 

Willow's Birth Story

Photo credit - Holly Stewart Photography

Willow's birth story actually started 4.5 years ago with her big brother Fisher's birth.  He survived and I survived but we both suffered from his birth and unfortunately he still deals with the injuries sustained (he was undiagnosed brow presentation - and Pitocin and vacuum which are contraindicated for brow were used. He was injured badly, spent 5 days in the NICU, and has had 5 surgeries to repair damage and will have more in the future).   I knew then and I learned more over the years that what happened not only didn't have to happen but it shouldn't have happened.   I knew with every cell in my body that a woman should never feel helpless, thrown into a "system", ignored, and lied to.   I learned about amazing, empowering midwives and OBs who worked with moms towards the end goal of healthy mom and healthy baby inside and out.   That was my goal for Willow's birth.  I wanted to trust my providers and be a person - not a number.  And definitely not end up with an injured baby.

I am a *little* of a control freak - I had carefully planned for and prepared for my pregnancy and spontaneous labor (ironic, eh?).   I prepared for it for hours on end by doing the Hypnobabies Homestudy Course.  I trained my brain to see pregnancy and childbirth as normal, healthy, and safe.  I worked through many fears and anxieties from my son's birth and two late miscarriages in a variety of ways.  I searched the area and interviewed providers, I talked to mamas about their providers and experiences with them and with their hospitals.  I decided on St Marys Birth and Midwifery Center - which has three amazing certified nurse midwives and the medical director is Dr. Brabson, whom is known around our area as the "male midwife."  When you know, you know.  In addition to acknowledging our trauma from our son's birth and handling our heartbreaking losses with care and compassion, they also are very natural birth friendly and are supportive of mom's wishes in pregnancy and labor.  They have great VBAC success rates and I have heard story after story of moms coming away from all different types of births (CS, VBAC, RCS, etc) feeling empowered through my work with ICAN of Knoxville. 

I was approaching the end of pregnancy and knew things were progressing nicely (yep, I suck at declining cervical checks!). I had a bulging bag of waters, 4 cm dilated, and was 70% effaced and was told that my water would probably break early in labor.  This was something I was worried about because it happened with my son's birth and any possible parallels between their births gave me anxiety.  I worked through those fears and was grateful for the "heads up" from my MW so I could prepare for this scenario.  I was prepared for my water to break early in labor, I would go to the hospital (GBS +), and then we would get things going there through nipple stimulation, walking, etc.  I would use my Hypnobabies tools to relax and use the birth tub when things picked up.  So I spent the last week or two of my pregnancy expecting my water to break every time I stood up.  Because I knew labor was close I gathered all the info of which midwife was on call when and when Dr. Brabson was out of town.  I hoped to not need an OB - but IF one was needed it was VERY VERY important to me to have Dr. B be there.  After Fisher's horrible experience with an oncall OB, I was terrified of having a random oncall OB.  I found out that Dr. B would be in town Friday - Wednesday (March 7-12th) and I would be 39 weeks - so I decided that I would have my baby (spontaneously of course) during that time so that he would be available if I needed him. End of story.  That was my plan. Apparently not Willow's.

On Wednesday, March 5th (38 weeks, 6 dayish) I felt different.  I was extra tired, extra grumpy, and just a little off. I started noticing very light cramping that afternoon.   It came and went, but was so light, I was sure it was nothing.  About 7 pm I started timing them to "practice using my app" and they were coming regularly 12 - 14 minutes apart.  I thought they would die out when I went to sleep that night.  Contractions continued regularly all night, but I could easily ignore them and my water hadn't broke - so OBVIOULSY it meant nothing and my body was prepping for labor which would happen between Friday and Wednesday as planned.  At 10 pm I timed more contractions and they were 9ish minutes apart and still so light.  I sent my doula, Kimberly,  a message and asked her at what point she wanted to know if there was a chance I was in labor. We talked about what was going on, I explained that I am sure it was prodromal labor but just wanted to touch base.  She told me to try to sleep and just let her know if things continue.

I went to sleep listening to a Hypnobabies track and woke up about an hour later and realized that not only were the contractions still there, they were stronger, and definitely closer together.  I timed a few and they were 5- 6ish minutes apart lasting a minute or so. I was sooooo confused.   They didn't hurt and I just didn't see how they could be real labor contractions.   But at the same time I knew that if they were real I needed to get the post partum doula, Natalie Walz, (she was lined up to provide sibling support while we were at the hospital) on her way.  However, I didn't want to be that person that thinks they are in labor, calls in the forces, goes to the hospital, to only find out they weren't in labor.  My husband, Shawn, is a teacher and has limited days off.   He is asking me what is going on and if he should call into work the next day.  I tell him it is probably nothing, but I was going to call Kimberly just in case.  Kimberly suggested I jump in the shower and let her know if things picked up.  This was about 12:30 - I sent my mom a message over facebook and told her that I was contracting and was sure things would stop tonight, but asked her to plan on coming to our house the next day (she lives 5 hours away) so she would be there the next night if things picked back up .  So I took Kimberly's advice and jumped in the shower completely and totally expecting that would stop this "pre labor" and I would go to bed.

Um...how have I been a birth nut for years now and somehow missed the memo that showering would speed up things if it was real labor?????  I got in the shower expecting it to relax me enough to stop these pesky contractions and get to sleep.  However, they picked up intensity and frequency.  I was just so confused -  what was happening???  So I decide I would get out of the shower and just go to bed. 

I got out of the shower and lay down and could not ignore the contractions anymore.  I allowed myself to think that maybe I am starting the beginning of a long labor.  I call Kimberly back at about 1:30 am and told her that my contractions were then 3-4 minutes apart and getting stronger.  I still was confused but I "guessed I should call Natalie to watch Fisher, just in case".  Kimberly said she was going to come over and would sleep on the couch if things stopped. This confused me more because it wasn't really our plan for her to come here first, I figured we would meet at the hospital.   I woke Shawn up and got him up to speed, I texted Natalie at 1:40 am and started getting things ready to go to the hospital.   Within 30 minutes things got REAL. Major contractions coming close together.  I started thinking "Holy crap, if I am going to have to deal with this for 24 hours I maybe should have went with a repeat cesarean"  At 2:15 am I sent my lovely doula two texts....verbatim "I want the motherfucking birth tub" and then right after that "fuck".  In my labor land - I did want the birth tub. But I thought it would get the point across to her that hey, I am actually in LABOR. This is not prodromal labor.

Kimberly immediately called and said we should meet at the hospital.  I tell her that Natalie should be there any minute but we couldn't leave until she got there. And then I went on about my business...of denying labor as much as possible.  The contractions were ROUGH.   I tried sitting on my birth ball, laying on my side on the couch, and sitting on the toilet. Nothing took the edge off.  I just stood and braced a wall and tried to relax and let it pass.  I tried to throw on my hypnobabies "Easy first stage" of labor tracks. HA HA HA HA. That is just hilarious (I think Hypnobabies is AWESOME and I will explain how I know it helped me -but if you are planning to use Hypnobabies as intended in labor....don't be a labor denier, ok?  I warned you).    So I dealt with contractions and between the contractions I was as calm as can be.  Walking around in lala land trying to figure out what needed to be done.  I got Fisher's clothes ready for the next day, got a few things together for the hospital, etc - all while contracting MAJORLY every 2ish minutes.  Natalie shows up and comes in. I am talking with her between contractions and she says "wow, your contractions are pretty close together aren't they?"  Natalie has had two natural births and the last one she showed up in very late labor to the birth center...so in my labor land it hit me "Hey, Natalie says they are close together, this really must be the real deal". 

Kimberly arrives within a few minutes of Natalie.  Bless Kimberly.  You know you hire doulas for different reasons - one of which I didn't realize (and maybe it isn't that common) was to help get your labor denying ass to the hospital before baby is born.  Kimberly comes in and starts directing me and Shawn to the car.  She grabs our bags, she helped me put my shoes on.  All the while I am contracting heavily and saying "It doesn't hurt at all between contractions" and I was really calm and pretty chill between contractions.  I told Kimberly that contractions were making me nauseous and how I was shaking during contractions.  Not upset by it all - just wanted to let it be known. I was kind of amazed by the whole thing.   Kimberly tells Shawn she will follow us in her car (she told me after the fact so she could call 911 should I have had the baby on the way) and we go to St Marys.  The car ride was horrible.  Transition in the car not high on my lists of things I want to repeat. I told Shawn "I want the birth tub or an epidural. I don't care"  He starts questioning me about the epidural saying that he thought I didn't want one. I of course didn't care at the moment what I had said 2 minutes ago much less before labor. 

We get to the hospital and by that point I want to sleep between contractions.  I was so tired! We go up to L&D and are taken to triage.  The triage nurse was less than impressed at my state of showing up so late in labor.  She asked me if I wanted to use the restroom before I was checked and I did. I had a big contraction in the bathroom - I think I needed that just a bit of alone time to kind of reset for the hospital.  I go get checked and was at 8 cm. I said "I need the birth tub". The nurse said there was no time for a birth tub.  I said "I need an epidural then". The nurse said "probably no time for that either". Now I did hear the probably. But what I needed to hear was "no time for that".  So I went with it.  And I thought "Oh well, I tried - Let's do this" I wasn't upset at all about it, I just needed to hear that we were that far along and knew I could do it.

Right after I was checked and told 8 cm I was getting up to move to a labor and delivery room. I stood up and had a massive contraction and said "I HAVE TO PUSH".   Oh the triage nurse...she was ALMOST rid of us. But not so fast.  She told me to sit down on the bed then (I guess she was afraid Willow was going to come tumbling out) and then said "well, push, we might as well get this over with".  Um. Ok.  Might as well get the birth of my daughter over with.  That is one way to put it.  So I kind of half ass push until my MW, Manola, shows up a few minutes later.  She was such a calm, peaceful presence in labor. She checked me and confirmed I was complete and then gently guided me through pushing.  Y'all.  Pushing hurt.  It hurt bad.  I had heard so many people say it was a relief after transition.  Not what I experienced.  But my team was awesome in encouraging me, reminding me to push past the pain, to use the contractions to help, and rest in between.   Pushing seemed to last forever but it was a really calm experience over all.  I would push and pretty much pass out between contractions to rest up for the next one. I kept up with my "I feel great between contractions" talk.  Because I did. There was no pain between contractions.  Being a VBAC I know that can be a sign of uterine problems.  So I think I was subconsciously reassuring myself.  And Hypnobabies talks a lot about how you are so calm and comfortable between contractions and feel so good.  I did feel good and I expected it.  That was really neat I think - and I think it is where Hypnobabies helped me the most during labor.  Pushing sucked. It hurt.  But I was able to quickly calm myself between contractions and rest a bit.  I don't remember really dreading the next contraction. I dreaded the pain and I got very tired but I don't remember fighting contractions and tensing up too much during the pushing part.

So I pushed and I pushed and I pushed.  For what seemed liked forever.  After the lightening fast labor I was surprised how long pushing took.  My team kept me going.  Manola would have me change positions every few contractions and I was so tired and at times I didn't want to move - but I really trusted her and pressed on.  Reminder, this is all happening in TRIAGE.  I didn't have the awesome labor beds that move in different positions for pushing - it was me and a triage bed! I would push semi reclined, I would push standing, I would push squatting, I would push on all fours - all in triage. It was a tiny space with a total of three beds but we made it work.    They were telling me I was making progress.  Ironically enough I could tell I was making progress because someone was always holding an external monitor to my stomach and they kept having to move it down.   Willow handled everything amazing.  There was not one second of fear of how she was handling contractions.  I got so tired and I did start doubting myself.  I pushed for two hours with Fisher and after about an hour of a half of pushing with Willow I started having thoughts creeping in of "my god, it is going to happen again." I am going to push for 2 hours and end up with a C-section.   But I kept on.  And my husband. My poor husband who witnessed the trauma to both me and Fisher first hand 4.5 years ago and of course experienced the trauma himself.   My husband really kept me going this time. He wanted this as much or me than I did...and he wanted it for me.  He saw how broken I was and I knew he was terrified at seeing that again.   He started getting SO excited when he could see progress and it would make me work that much harder. And be that much more determined.  So when Manola, Kimberly, and him were telling me how great I was doing and how I was moving her down - it was his voice that stood out like a beacon.   And he said several times between contractions "Erin, this is so different from last time."  "I can't believe how different this is". It was different - I KNEW it would be.  There was never a doubt in my head that however Willow was born it was going to be awesome and empowering and special.  But hearing that from him when I was so tired and getting discouraged was priceless. 

Ok, back to pushing.  Even with the amazing support I was tired.  I was getting discouraged though I just kept on. Really - what else can you do?   Then the ray of light walked in the door....Dr. Brabson.  What?? I thought he was out of town!  And here we go - confession time again.  When he walked in the door I was of course happy to see him because he is great and I trust him so much ..but my first thought was "THANK GOD HE CAN USE A VACUUM OR FORCEPS OR SOMETHING". Yeah I did. But I never said it out loud :)  He checked me and said Willow was in great position and that I was close and was going to do it.  And just like when I was "denied" the epidural - I thought "Well, hell.  I guess let's do this" It was all me.

So now Dr. B joined in on the encouragement and I pushed more, moved positions, and kept going.  Finally it was close to the end - at that point I was pushing semi reclined while holding my own legs.  It was an effective position for me.  They suggested having Shawn and the nurse help hold my legs up between contractions so we wouldn't lose any progression.  The next to last contraction before she came out - I pushed hard wanting to be done.  Things felt different that contraction and for the first and only time I felt horrible pain between contractions.  It scared me so badly I felt panic setting in.  My brain went to uterus rupture - I didn't say it out loud but I thought it.  But I reminded myself that I was safe, Willow was fine, and that if something was wrong I was in a good place.  Kimberly recognized my fear (many benefits to having a doula experienced in VBAC but this second right here it was priceless) and she calmly explained that Willow was right about to come out so it was going to feel different.  It was supposed to.  And that is what I needed to hear to center myself again and take a second to refocus and then realize that I WANTED THAT BABY OUT AND IN MY ARMS more than I had wanted anything in the world. 

The next push she was born into the world at 5:20 am.  She got a little stuck after her head came out - super calmly they reclined the back of my bed, pushed my legs up more and for the only time my team was pretty adamant about me continuing to push and push hard (at the time I thought they knew how exhausted I was and were just trying to help me be done).  And then they laid her on my stomach.  I can't even explain how much that moment means to me. It is all I ever wanted - this was the moment that I had dreamed about for years.    I have said over and over again - the most traumatic thing to me about my son's birth was the separation after he was born.  Not knowing if he was alive but knowing that wherever he was, whatever was being done to him - he NEEDED me and I wasn't there.    I was immediately handed Willow alive and healthy.  She was placed on my stomach because she was still connected to her cord and I hadn't birthed the placenta yet.    I couldn't believe it.  I took her and just talked and talked and talked. I talked to Willow and Shawn and everyone else and no one else.  I told her I couldn't believe she was here and I couldn't be we actually did it. I said over and over again "She is here and she is healthy, I can't believe it" Time truly stood still - I just don't know how else to explain it.  It was perfect and I have climbed mountains to get to that moment physically and emotionally and it was worth every step along the way. 

While Shawn and I were admiring our sweet little daughter - I birthed her placenta, had a minor tear repair (which I thought was kind of funny - Manola apologized that there was going to be a little stick from a needle.  Um...I just gave birth to a baby naturally, I am not afraid of a needle prick!), and apparently a pretty decent post partum hemorrhage.  Yet another reason I chose the right providers - I am a bleeder and I honestly expected a PP hemorrhage.  They handled it calmly and all the while I was in la la land holding my baby girl.  After they fixed me up - the MW, OB, and nurses all left.  They never took Willow away from us and then left us in the room for some private time to get to know each other.  Kimberly took pictures of us and helped me get her nursing.  And then she left too. And for the next 3 or 4 hours Shawn, Willow, and I just hung out together.  Shawn and I started texting and calling people to let them know that while they were sleeping Willow was born.  We snuggled her and talked about how amazing she was - we tried to figure out who she looked like and guessed how much she weighed compared to our son (we didn't have her weighed or measured until 4 or so hours after she was born) . And we talked about how amazing her birth was.    We were still in triage.  Finally after four hours we decided we were ready to get to a room so I could get cleaned up.   We then handed her off for the first time for weight and measurements.  She was 8 lbs 4 oz and 22 inches long and perfect from head to toe. 

As I said earlier, Willow's birth story started years ago with her big brother's story.  Her birth story will never change his.  His was not fair to him, Shawn, or me- but it is our story and I have always felt that if one family in the world "had" to go through Fisher's birth and all that has followed - I feel weirdly blessed to be chosen.  Because we have and will continue doing everything in our power to help Fisher in every way we can.  We will continue fighting for him and also to encourage and  empower women to realize they do have a choice and a voice in their pregnancy care.   Though I knew it inherently before Fisher and also before Willow was born - I have experienced it now.  We matter - mamas, daddies, and babies - we all matter and our experiences matter.  I refused to believe otherwise and I have reaped the best reward I can imagine.  I gave birth to my healthy daughter powerfully and peacefully and I walk away from it in awe of her and myself.  I can't think of a better way to begin a new life.   

Photo credit - Holly Stewart Photography

Pregnancy after loss

Man it has been a long time.   Sometimes I feel like it has been so long, I shouldn't even update my blog now but tonight I want to write some stuff out.  For me.

I guess the big news is, I am pregnant with a baby girl, Willow.   After two late losses, pregnancy is different.  It isn't a whole lot of fun and I was pretty much a walking disaster for the first 17 weeks (we lost Wren at 16 weeks).  I convinced myself time and time again that this pregnancy was over.  It wasn't pretty and I am thankful that I have some good friends who understand and have helped me through the worst of it. At 17 weeks we found out our baby was a boy...for 2 hours! It was pretty funny - I had an appointment with the high risk OB at 10 am for an ultrasound.  They saw what they thought was a penis and told us it was a boy.  I thought the angle was weird, but whatever.  They are the experts.  Shawn and I went to lunch to celebrate Sawyer.  We called and texted friends and family close to us.  After lunch I had a second appointment with my regular OB.  When I walked in they asked if we found out what we were having and I said "boy, but it was a weird angle, I am not 100% convinced".  They offered to do a free look to make sure and I took them up on it.  Laying on the table the technician was looking around and I said "If I didn't know better, I would think that is a girl"  and she agreed.  She said that it looked all girl to her.    I laughed so hard.  I found it hilarious that Shawn wasn't there with me for the "big reveal" even though we were together that morning when we thought we found out the sex.  I was so excited to call and tell Shawn the new news :)  We ended up getting a 3rd opinion just to make sure - and yes, she is all girl!

After we found out she was a girl and seemingly healthy we started telling people.  Every.single.time. I tell someone I am pregnant I get scared.  After two times of excitingly telling people you are pregnant only to end up with a broken heart - it is just so very different.  It is different for you and for the people you are telling.  You can see the worry and the hesitation in their eyes. You can hear it on their voice.  I know they love me and they don't want to see me hurt again.  It is just so very different. I was hoping that by telling people and talking about it more "it" would seem more real.  I have been so guarded and scared to get too excited.  It doesn't make sense unless you have walked a similar path, but it is the way I have dealt.  And it really is slowly starting to feel real.  I am now 25 weeks pregnant.  Willow moves a lot and has had many good updates from the doctors.   Fisher talks about her a lot, which again at first was scary to me.  I am getting more comfortable with that too.  The first time I overheard him telling a group of kids about his little sister Willow I melted.  

15 weeks to go!  So hopefully lots of exciting things going on over the next few months and then even better things after that!  I am of course planning a VBAC and look forward to an empowered birth - I am sure there will be more on that shortly.   Lots of emotions to deal with while dealing with pregnancy hormones so I am sure I will have more to blog about!

Anniversaries

I have been a loss mama for a year and a half now - and one thing I have learned from my own experiences and from my interactions with other loss mamas is that loss anniversaries are hard. It is a frequent topic on loss communities - how to deal with the emotions that surround the day, ideas on ways you can honor you baby, etc. It is very comforting to have a safe place to express your feelings on a day that is forever etched in your mind - but probably not many other people's mind.

The thing about anniversaries - is that you don't know how you are going to be. Are you going to cry nonstop and not want to get out of bed? Are you going to want to continue on your life - business as usual? And what happens one year doesn't mean that is how you are going to feel the next year or the year after that.

This is my first anniversary of Wren's death. "One year ago" has been the theme of this week. So far I haven't thought too much about the actual time we found out she died -but more the happiness and excitement we were feeling a year ago about the addition to our family. I remember feeling that I was past the point of too much worry with my pregnancy. I remember feeling safe. I remember happily going to the midwife appointment that Friday afternoon and realizing it was the first time in my pregnancy that I was super anxious and scared about something going wrong. And then I subconsciously try to stop myself from remembering the next few days and weeks. Those experiences and feelings are still so very raw. 

All week long I have been a little afraid of my feelings. So much of my life is spent trying to be in control of my feelings and to "keep calm and carry on." It can be scary to allow the thoughts and feelings to wash through me. So I knew that I needed some time alone to be with my thoughts and feel the emotions that bubbled under the calm surface. My natural inclination was to get outside and surround myself with the environment I feel the most grounded and calm. Yesterday I took the day off work and went hiking and birding. It was wonderful. Even though I spend a lot of time outside - I so rarely have time alone outside where I am not focused on a task for work. I meandered around the woods and took my time listening to the gorgeous soundtrack provided by the birds, the wind, and the trees. I watched birds through my binoculars that I normally wouldn't have spent too much time on because they are "common". And then I sat for quite a while and soaked up the gorgeous spring sun. I allowed myself to think thoughts that came in my mind - but for the most part I just enjoyed my surroundings more than I have in years. I thought some of the past year or two - or really the past 3.5 since I have had Fisher and the struggles we have been through. But in that environment I felt grateful. It hit me that I have learned so much over the last few years and I am grateful. Obviously I wish the events would have happened differently but I am grateful for the compassion I have been given and also the compassion that I have learned. For those moments in the sun I felt gratitude towards my two babies that I have lost and for the lessons they taught me. I really do feel that they have made me a better person and they have allowed me to see the good in so many other people as well.

I decided during my time out in the woods that I will make this my anniversary tradition - birding and hiking. It feels right and in such a busy life it is so nice to have the time to slow down and be. 

Panda's make Panda Puffs

At 3.5 years old several times a day Fisher says something that makes me laugh and I think "I want to remember that!" And then we get busy and I don't write it down.
Being that it is a weekend morning, Shawn is out of town, and we are eating breakfast while watching Aquabats - I am taking a few minutes to document one :)

Fisher is very much into "Where does that come from?". Which is kind of neat!  At the grocery store he says "Cows make milk", "apples come from apple trees", etc.  He asks Shawn and I nonstop where we get things around the house.  "Mom, where did you get that shampooo?"  "Mom, where did did you get this necklace?".  And being that Shawn has a super hero collection - Fisher is VERY interested in those.  A few times a day Fisher says "I want to talk to Daddy about Super Heros" and much of that includes discussions of where they come from.  (Which coincidentally is a great time for Shawn to explain that he works, saves his money, and then buys them).

I usually make a good, full breakfast on weekends - bacon, eggs, the like.  This morning Shawn is out of town and I am feeling lazy (Time change!) so I gave Fisher the option of eating Panda Puffs.  He doesn't eat cereal often at all - probably just had it a handful of times and he was very interested in this opportunity.  He asked me a few questions about the cereal and decided that it was suitable for his Sunday am palate.  I brought him the bowl and he looked up at me and said "Mom, Panda's make Panda Puffs" very matter of fact.  It made me giggle and a little at a loss.  I find it fascinating that at this age he is trying to figure it all out and make the world make sense to him.  And it is yet another reason to not eat processed food - it is too hard to explain where it comes from.  ha ha. 

Reflections - 2012 edition

As I see and hear everyone talking about the highs and lows of 2012 I often find myself melancholy and sad about what 2012 was and what it wasn't.  I had some great events and memories from 2012 and for those I am thankful - but one event that casts a shadow over so much is the loss of our Wren.  This time last year I was cautiously optimistic that our first loss had been a single, awful incident.  Though I was obviously heartbroken I still felt that next time things would be different and I really expected to be holding and loving on our baby on the eve of 2013.  And when we got pregnant last January and things appeared to be going well, we got past the first trimester, I told work, etc, etc, etc I REALLY thought we had made it and we were going to welcome a baby during 2012.  Of course that was not meant to be.  So as I reflect on 2012 I think a lot about the loss of my innocence and naivety.  I have definitely grown in compassion and understanding but the costs of that growth was high. 

I am normally an optimist and I would love to think about the coming year with blind optimism but if 2012 has taught me anything it is to not assume or take for granted.  I am almost afraid to put high hopes on 2013 right now - so right now as I look to the coming year my hope is to live in the moment and enjoy and be thankful for the blessings I am given.