You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch

Let's just get it out of the way right now:  I'm sick, and I'm not pregnant. 

I'm much more upset about the second one than the first, as it means we will end this year the same way we began it.  That's a really hard pill for me to swallow.  Seriously?  Ugh. Double ugh.  It also means that next month, we will have been trying as long as it takes to make a baby in the first place.

The first one caused the cancellation (optimistically, the postponement) of our annual Christmas party. 

I have to say thank you though to all of you who took time to say a little prayer for us.  I've felt your prayers.  Maybe that's silly; although it may not seem like it based on my writing above, I do have more peace about our "no" this month than I have in the past.  It's a set back, but not a complete, knock-the-wind-out-of-me sock in the gut like it has been. 

This waiting is so hard.  I can't adequately find words to describe how challenging this chapter has been.  There are so many worse things, so I suppose my "hard" chapter is what many would call priviledged.  It's not the loss of a child.  It' not a sick or hungry child.  I would take this over those things any day of the week.  Forever.

But the ache.  The wanting.  The rollercoaster of hope and denial.  It's maddening. 

Even as I write this, I'm still holding on to the slim chance that this might be impantation bleeding.  I'm 98% sure this round is over, but oh, that 2%.  It's why I take my coffee decaf.  It's why, even though I feel awful, I won't take any NyQuil when I go to bed tonight.  I'd never, ever gamble that 2% chance.  So I'll go to bed tonight without any medicine, and in 2 days when it's solidly over, I'll feel like an idiot that I didn't just take the meds since it wasn't any harm to anybody. 

This is a crazy way to live, month after month.  Without any definitive end in sight.   

I'm not complaining - not really, anyway.  I'm just sharing the reality.  I don't know how people do this for years on end, except that I know, having had Leah, that it will all be worth it.  I'm just so ready that it is painfully hard to wait.

September.  I'm optimistic that we're getting a September baby.  I've been wrong before, and maybe I'm destined to be wrong again, but I've felt this pull about September literally since before we started trying.  I was stunned when I got pregnant in August, because I expected September.  I lost both babies in September.   There's something about it that just fits.

Or, I'm just a trying-to-get-pregnant junkie.  Like the gambler who, despite losing each hand, continues to believe in just one more.

In this case, though... what else is there?

Sugar and Spice (our cookies are nice!)

Tis the season for...

Christmas cookies!  And, as the tradition would have it... Elf.  Because that's how we roll. 

And it was a great batch!

The little didn't get to help out on these, although she has definitely helped in the eating process.  I think next year we'll inaugurate her into this tradition.

I'm certainly not a cookie decorator, but I do love this tradition!

21 Months

Alternately titled, How is it possible that this is the last one of these posts before she's two????

There are so, soooo many things I love about Leah at this age!  So many that are worth remembering and cherishing.  All year I've been saying that this phase is my very favorite, and all year it's been true.  One is incredible.  Possibly more amazing than her very first year.

I'd like to keep this post a readable length, but there are so many things I adore about Leah at 21 months.

• In the last few days she has really begun practicing sentences instead of just words.  She's been able to string words together for quite a few months, but they've always been simple ideas and separated by some space (Hat. On.).  Now, we have legitimate short sentences and multiple ideas.
• We were talking about how the leaves go away in the winter and come back in the summer, and she said clear as a bell: "come back leaves!"  
• I love the way she says words that start with S right now.  They're all nasally; she literally breathes out her nose to pronounce the S.  Snow is "Th-now" with air out the nose.  It's hillarious.
• She is obsessed with counting.  She does it all the time, except she likes 3 and 4 the best.  She can count... I've heard her!  But she'd much rather start with 3 and end with 4. Again. And again.
• She is definitely her mother's child.  She is always telling me, "careful."  "gentle."  and "scared me!"  When she does the last one, she puts her little hand over her heart, and there's no doubt about where she got that move.  
• The way she says "God bless you!" before bed.  LOVE.IT.
• She is absolutely fascinated by Santa.  Everywhere we go: "Santa!  See!  Hug!"  
• She is the most amazing little helper.  She LOVES to help with everything from setting the table (I fold silverware up in a napkin and let her put them on the table, and she takes plastic cups to the table), to putting laundry in the washing machine and cleaning up her toys, to folding blankets and emptying the dishwasher, where she can actually put the clean silverware into the drawer.  Don't even get me started on her love of taking things to the trash!
• That girl can finish a cup of cocoa in 2 minutes flat.  Seriously.
• We recently discovered the best trick EVER to getting her to eat: a snowman plate with 3 dividers.  How did I not do this earlier?  The girl loves to feel like a "biggurl" eating on her very own plate. 
• When we ask her if she's sad, she laughs and says no!  Then we ask if she's mad and she laughs and says noooo!  Then we ask, "what are you?"  and she responds, "Happy!  Silly!" and gives the biggest giggle. 
• Her super-fake silly smile, which she puts on any time a camera is pointed in her direction (Exhibit A is above!).
• She has officially outgrown bed time.  We used to have a lovely routine that included milk, a story, prayer and some snuggling.  Now she's too grown up for that.  As soon as she finishes her milk she asks for her bed and puts herself to sleep.     
• She knows everything.  I know I say that every time I write one of these, but I'm absolutely in awe of how much she knows.  In a conversation about the cold and snow outside, she told me, "Hot, summer.  Snow, winter."  Um... how does she know that?!  She was only 20 months old!!!!!
• She went through a huge growth spurt in September.  Prior to September, her 18 month clothes didn't really fit.  In September, she wore them and by October she'd outgrown them.  She now wears exclusively 2T clothing, even though they're a tiny bit big. 
• She wears size 3 diapers and size 5 shoes.  We have a potty, which she is very interested in, but totally not ready to use yet. 
• She has quite a few teeth: the top and bottom two front teeth and about half of her molars, as well as a few others I don't know the names of. 
• Her favorite book is currently How the Grinch Stole Christmas and her favorite show, bar none, is Caillou.  Yes, Elmo has been replaced.  She also really loves her teddies, and the more, the better.  She likes to go to sleep hugging at least three of them. 

Although we are definitely beginning to see more and more toddler like behaviors, she is such an easy girl.  I think her verbal skills help in that, because she communicates so effectively that it makes her feel like she's being heard and doesn't have to act out.  And, it helps because we can reason with her when she's upset.  That's a pretty big accomplishment for someone who's not even two!

I can't fully express in words the gratitude I feel for this sweet little person.  We are so blessed - beyond anything we could ever deserve or have imagined - to know her.  Being her Mommy is far and away the best thing I've ever done.

We love you to the moon and back, sweet girl!

As Topol would say: Tradition!

(That was a Fiddler on the Roof reference, for those of you who are musical-challenged, aka not nerdy.)

Casey and I began making our yearly trek to the Parade of Lights about two years into our relationship, and we've been going ever since. 

Before I was pregnant with Leah, we used to make quite a date out of it: Maggianos for dinner, Starbucks for coffee and The Cheesecake Factory for cheesecake afterward. 

We've been lucky two years in a row to be able to still make our dinner and the parade, which is a LOT when you're a tiny little person accustomed to going to bed at seven! 

And you know what?  I think it might be my favorite Christmas tradition.

This year, it was bitterly cold, and we bundled the little up in as many layers as would fit.  She did a great job right up until the end of the parade, about 7:15.  Then she started getting upset.  So upset in fact that I'm pretty sure she missed out on seeing Santa.  After that, she was upset that she'd missed Santa!  She kept crying, "More Santa!  Santa!  More!"  Poor little pumpkin. 

Still, though, when we got home, she told me all about the bands, and horses, dogs and the penguin float she had seen, which tells me that even at not-quite-21 months, this is a tradition she'll grow up loving, too. 



Next year?  Family pictures will be taken at the beginning of the parade!

Dear Santa...

What does Leah want for Christmas?

We're a little obsessed with Santa at our house right now.  I'm not really sure whether she's grasped the concept of what Santa's job it, but she sure is excited about his visit. 

And, in case you were wondering, Leah will be asking Santa for a stove for Christmas.  She came up with that one almost all by herself.

Mother's love: it's still the same when you're 80.

Today is my mom's birthday.  I am thankful for her for so many reasons I can't even begin to count them. 

Aside from wishing her a happy birthday, though, I came across this message from my Grandma to my mom on her Facebook page (ahhh, technology).  It was such a beautiful expression of motherly love - not to mention, so clearly captures the essence of my grandma! - I had to make sure I have it for the ages. 

"Let me be the first to wish you Happy Birthday and thank you for the patient, caring, thoughtful person you are. And I'm blessed to have that person as my daughter. I could write a book about "our journey" as mother and daughter, all the fun (and sorrow) we've shared, but we'd both just boo-hoo. Did I get that from you, or you from me? This day is about you. May you have a wonderful day. Not everyone is blessed with 2 birthdays--one that I gave you and one you received when you were re-born in Christ. Praise God for his blessings. Why am I up so early? Garage sales start at 6:30, though it's kinda hard to shop in the dark! Have a great day. Your Mom loves you.♥ "

I am so lucky to have those two strong, loving and wise women in my life!  What good examples they have both set for me.

The one where I compare having a baby to winning the lottery

The most interesting part of my journey over the past many months has been coming to terms with people's opinions about our situation. 

It's funny how people respond when I tell them about my miscarriage.  Mostly, they don't think it's a big deal - I get a lot of it just wasn't meant to be-s and Relax!  It'll happen when it's time-s.  Although I know that people truly mean well, it's hard to explain just how isolating and invalidating these comments are. 

It's just that, if you haven't experienced trouble getting pregnant, it is extremely hard to relate. 

So I was trying to think of an analogy that might be appropriate and relatable.

Imagine that you play the lottery.  One day, by some miracle, your numbers come up!  You've won millions!  You're elated, extatic!  In an instant, your entire future has changed, just like that.

But when you go to claim the prize, you discover one tragic fact: you can't find the ticket.  At first, it's no big deal.  You're sure you'll find it.  You check everywhere you can think of: the pockets of your jeans, your wallet, the deep, dark recesses of your purse, the glove compartment of the car.  Feeling a little aggravated but still completely confident that you'll find it eventually, you check less likely places: under the couch cushions, the trash in the bathroom, behind the washing machine, in that drawer of miscellaneous junk every household seems to have. 

No luck. 

As the days and weeks go by, your confidence in finding the ticket begins to fade, and frustration, disbelief and disappointment set in in their place. 

To add insult to injury, someone puts up a billboard advertising the unclaimed millions.  A billboard you have to see each and every time you drive to work, to and from lunch, and home again.  Without fail, every time you look at that billboard, you get a sick feeling in your gut reminding you of what you almost had; what you still could have if you could only find that darn ticket!

Now, you might decide to stare straight ahead, blocking out everything but the road each time you pass the billboard.  You might tell yourself not to think about it.  You might even take the long way home just to avoid that stupid billboard.  Either way, you can't get around the knowledge that the only reason you're doing those things is to avoid being reminded of them in the first place, which, of course, makes you think about it all over again. 

With millions of dollars at stake, would you give up looking for the ticket?  Of course not!  You'd turn over every stone, sort through every piece of trash, jump at each and every measly scrap of paper that even kind of resembles the ticket.  Because each piece of paper could be the piece of paper. 

And you'll do this forever.  The only way to end the cycle is either a) find the ticket or b) come to the genuine conclusion that you wouldn't have been better off with those millions after all.   

The only flaw I see in this analogy is that, in the case of a lottery winner, everyone is going to sympathize.  We can all imagine how we would feel and react in that circumstance.  People would turn out in droves to help find the lost ticket - some out of genuine care for the person who lost it, others for their own selfish hope of being rewarded with a part of the prize; either way, the result is the same.  You've got loads of people to lean on who will thoroughly lament the injustice of the whole situation.   

Can you imagine someone saying, well, I guess it just wasn't meant to be!  Play again when the time is right! 

Um, yeah.  Didn't think so. 

So there you have it.  That's a little glimpse into the fabulous world of trying - and failing - to get pregnant. 

I don't say any of this with judgement.  None of it is directed at any one person, or even any group of people.  I feel extremely grateful to have had so many offer such shows of support, and I know that none of it comes with the intent of hurt feelings. 

Just know that, like having lost out on millions in the lottery, this isn't something that is easy to let go of.  It's not something I can just relax about or suddenly be okay with.  Like anyone who is hurting for whatever reason, sometimes it's better to acknowledge that certain things in life just hurt, and there isn't anywhere to go with it but on.  And you know what?  It's okay.