tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66803525796249186352024-03-04T20:47:54.361-08:00Lightning in a BottleA friend once likened my struggle to conceive to catching lightning in a bottle.
Four times we've succeeded, twice the bottle broke.
One firefly flits around the living room, the other watches her in amazement. I watch them both with awe, gratitude and a serious need for caffeine.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.comBlogger142125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-4978477222617649082009-04-23T07:58:00.000-07:002009-04-23T08:13:14.490-07:00To borrow someone else's words......and her much prettier voice.<br /><br /><object width="580" height="360"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oab0_cSafws&hl=en&fs=1&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oab0_cSafws&hl=en&fs=1&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"></embed></object>Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-75880058007236795522009-04-02T22:22:00.000-07:002009-04-02T22:25:43.635-07:00Sometimes it's yes to a different question.When asking for God's will, I'm not always prepared for that answer. Sometimes I wish he spoke more clearly, louder and perhaps considered using those electronic road signs.<br /><br />It became increasingly clear my marriage and home weren't safe places for me recently, nor appropriate for the children. I can't go into detail here, but sometimes the answer isn't what we first think.<br /><br />As I left to give some time and space, the peace that entered my heart was surprising. I'm upset, saddened and dreading the battle ahead but I know I'm taking steps in the right direction.<br /><br />I just wish it didn't hurt so much.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-8217354016403126032009-03-23T16:12:00.000-07:002009-03-26T19:19:44.701-07:00Sometimes he says yes<em>"Please, God," </em>I said,<em> "I need your help. This is so much bigger than me, I can't carry it any more and I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose my husband, my family, and I don't know how to fix this. I want your will, and I'm desperately hoping that includes keeping my family together. I trust you, I need you and I can't do this without you."</em><br /><br /><em></em><br /><br />I stayed on my knees for over an hour, sobbing and praying. The words, like my emotions and face, were messy and raw. It was a conversation long overdue, like many I've had recently.<br /><br /><br /><br />For too long I've failed to ask for what I need and be honest about what's happening. With God, my husband, my family, my self. It's all come out now and there is some relief to be had in that, but there is no missing the fact the mess would be smaller and the repercussions less devastating had I only spoken sooner about so many things.<br /><br /><br /><br />Our financial health is a mess at this point, thanks to a series of bad mistakes and decisions on my part as well as a lack of communication. For too long I've been hesitant, reluctant and downright afraid to have the hard conversations with the people I've owed the information to. Different decisions could and should have been made, and now the mess is bigger than it had to be. While I feel bad about asking God directly for money, I'm hoping we can improve our situation professionally and improve our personal situation as well. We have a hole to dig out of. Prayers for financial stability and recovery for ourselves and those we are responsible to would be deeply appreciated.<br /><br /><br /><br />My physical health could be worse, and I'm fortunate in many ways, but I am not well. The time I spent ill last year, my lack of sleep and the stress of carrying many burdens without talking about them to the people who most needed to know has created some problems. I am anemic, my blood counts are not where they should be and several items tested were "off." Ultimately it boils down to not taking time to heal, and severe stress and anxiety. I'm having heart palpitations, sweats, fevers, and panic attacks. My lymph nodes are huge and I have recently been told I have a large cyst on my ovary, while still dealing with the interstitial cystitis. On the upside, I'm significantly closer to my goal weight, having lost an incredible amount of weight in a short time. Not in the proper way, I'm afraid - lack of proper sleep, having to force myself to eat, pacing and a racing heart have been the major contributors to my weight loss. Ultimately, weighing less will be a good thing and if I can get my anemia resolved and my energy level up I can actually exercise, which would be great stress relief and potentially help with my depression as well. I am hoping the recent events leading to full disclosure will ultimately lead to a reduction in my anxiety, but we have a lot of work to do to get things where they need to be so I don't anticipate the anxiety to abate immediately. I'm asking God for physical healing, and would appreciate your thoughts and prayers in that direction as well.<br /><br /><br /><br />Mentally and emotionally, I've been barely holding my head above the surface for some time and I've finally reached the point of really losing it I am afraid. I'll be okay, eventually, and I have no intentions of doing anything foolish or permanent so I don't want to cast any doubts in that direction. I will admit there are times in the last few days I have hummed "they're coming to take me away.." but I am notorious for making terrible jokes when I feel at my worst. It didn't help matters to find the wheels falling off the cart and see my husband take his wedding ring off just days after the two year anniversary of my brother's murder. It has been a hard, difficult time and some have said I am holding it together but the only people who think that are those who are not looking closely enough.<br /><br />There has been a bit of relief in the disclosure, more in the conversation held several days after I thought my marriage might really be ending when it was decided that we really are going to try to work things through. It would not have been my decision to divorce, but there were several days when it appeared that would be what my husband wanted. There's still a long road, a deep hole and much work to be done.<br /><br />Part of that process is going to involve an attempt to return to working full time outside the home. I'll miss the days with my children, more than I can express, but keeping our family intact is more important. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. The decision for me to stay home was mutual, but I have realized staying home altered my position in the relationship - at times making me feel as if I were a lesser partner. My contributions to our family are valuable, but harder to measure. As my husband was the one working full-time out side the home, and I was working part time but falling further behind in that work, I became more and more reluctant to have the hard conversations with him about finances choosing instead to juggle instead of saying "we can't do X." My guilt over our situation and what I wasn't disclosing led me to also swallow other things that bothered me, creating a situation in our relationship where I rarely talked about what bothered me.<br /><br />I'm working on being healthier in a lot of ways. Another of those will be to pursue something of my very own outside of the house, not just in terms of a career but also a creative/social outlet. I have the best friends in the world, many of them living way too far away, but I rarely make a point to see even those who live across town. I allowed myself to feel so badly about how far behind I was in my work that I felt guilty even scheduling get togethers for a couple of hours, knowing there were other things I should do. I haven't been living my life, and it's time to change that.<br /><br />In all of this, I am talking - finally talking. To God, my husband, my friends and trying to finally work through all of this. There are many, many things I feel grateful for including another chance..<br /><br />I asked God if he would hold our marriage and family in his hands and help us work through this, if he would help my husband see we have something worth fighting for....and he said yes.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-35048130818440404482009-03-05T19:18:00.000-08:002009-03-05T19:21:05.926-08:00While we wait for the results......a conversational nugget.<br /><br />My husband called this afternoon after my appointment with the doctor. I told him the doctor had ordered quite a bit of bloodwork, told him some of the possibilities and that we'd know more on Monday.<br /><br />Then he asked me if it was possible they'd screwed up and taken my bladder instead of my uterus.<br /><br />Not what happened of course, but it made me laugh.....and made me think for just a moment...Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-91261706216582406262009-03-04T16:29:00.001-08:002009-03-04T16:32:52.218-08:00Back to the doctor for meI'm not sure what's wrong, which seems to be a recurring theme with me, but I find myself struggling again with feeling crappy. I'm running fevers, having the occasional chill (though those are easier to deal with) and sweats. My skin feels like it's burning, I'm exhausted and run down.<br /><br />At first I thought it was due to an increase in medication, but now I'm just not so sure. I was told if it was the medication, I was looking at a pretty short adjustment time but this has been going on for weeks. It might be hormonal, but I'm not sure that wouldn't explain actual fevers.<br /><br />I don't know what's going on, and though I have an appointment with our general doctor tomorrow I'm just not feeling convinced I'm going to come away from the appointment knowing anything more than I do right now. He'll probably order bloodwork, and it will mean more waiting. Hopefully some answers, but my optimism fails me right now.<br /><br />I just want to feel better.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-39160447837005998202009-03-02T13:03:00.001-08:002009-03-02T13:16:00.369-08:00My parents.Twelve years ago, my dad broke his neck. It was an unexpected accident, shocking and overwhelming, but his recovery was nothing short of amazing. He had a tremendous amount of damage to his vertebrae, but none to his spinal cord. After 12 hours of surgery, months in a halo and vest, he was able to go back to work. A portion of his hip bone replaced some of the damaged bone in his neck, and until recently he had no complications from the injury other than slightly decreased range of motion.<br /><br />Recently, however, we've had some serious scares and it's not over. He'd apparently been having some symptoms for a few months that were put off, until one day he tried to stand and collapsed. It seems there's a problem with one of the discs. I don't understand it fully, but his situation involves a disc out of place, a bruised spinal cord and pinched nerves. If he's to retain his ability to walk, surgery will need to be done. Monday.<br /><br />Meanwhile, mom is trying to care for him while not well herself. She's fighting the effects of multiple myeloma, a cancer that is currently in remission for her. Her own back is weakened, and while bringing in groceries a couple of weeks ago she fell -breaking her breastplate just above her sternum. A CT scan has shown that there is a fragment behind her sternum and surgery will be needed to remove that fragment before it causes significant problems.<br /><br />My parents are overwhelmed, scared and struggling to hold it together. There are so many hopes pinned on my dad's surgery. They are fortunate to have good health insurance, but he's been unable to work for several weeks already and in March they will have to pay the premiums themselves. I wish I was in a position to help them financially, but all I can do is lend moral support.<br /><br />Today my dad called me, seeking a promise that we'll make sure someone stays with mom if the surgery goes south. He's not so much scared for himself, as worried she'll stop taking care of herself. Apparently when he was in the hospital in February, she spent four days not eating ...just laying in bed, crying, drinking soda on occasion.<br /><br />I worry about them both. I wish life had taken some different turns for them, so that if this was to be the end of my dad's working career he could just retire and they could still make it - but the end of him working would be financially devastating to them, especially because of their health needs and insurance issues.<br /><br />I keep praying this will all be ok, that they'll both get through this and things will start looking up for them. They had started thinking things were getting a little better for them financially right before this all happened. As long as they have each other, I know they'll find a way to be okay....Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-72232225006512090582009-02-21T09:13:00.001-08:002009-02-21T09:22:50.041-08:00The me I used to beI can't remember the last time I saw her, face relaxed and smiling, eyes sparkling. I know it was before stress and tension caused the night time teeth grinding and clenching, before it forever changed the line of her jaw into something tight, tense, older looking.<br /><br />I know she used to laugh more, smile more, and go entire days at a time without feeling as if her stomach were turning inside out. Those wrinkles weren't around her eyes. Tears were almost always close to the surface, but they could just as easily be from laughter, joy or simply being moved as from grief, pain or fear. I know there were times she felt broken, but there were times in between that she either felt whole or felt confident she would be again.<br /><br />I want to tell her it's going to be okay again. That all this sucks, it really really sucks, but God is there even if he feels far away. That he is carrying her through this even if she feels so weighed down she struggles to lift her legs to climb the stairs. I know she knows the only way out is through, and I watch her struggle to open her mouth to talk about it, watch her struggle to hold it together when it feels as if everything has shattered into a million pieces. I want to remind her she is loved, that there is always hope, and the sun will come up tomorrow even if it's still cold outside.<br /><br />I watch her grasp at the moments that make her happy - playing with the children, moments of laughter with her husband, and I want to point to those things and say, "see! even with all of this, look at the miracles you hold in your hands. They haven't slipped away yet, you can keep this family together. You can." <br /><br />I tell her, as much as I can, but I say it softly....for fear that these conversations in the mirror might just really prove that she has cracked once and for all.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-86478487594691175002009-02-20T13:30:00.000-08:002009-02-20T13:33:31.713-08:00glue.I keep meaning to update, but the truth of what's going on for us right now is harsh enough without seeing it in writing.<br /><br />The kids are doing well, for which I am eternally grateful. The rest seems to be falling apart and we're barely holding it together. <br /><br />The economy stinks and our business is seeing the effects big time, my health is still not right and I'm also fighting the effects of an increased dose of antidepressants in hopes that the bad effects are temporary and the good ones kick in soon.<br /><br />Mentally it's the worst possible time for me to take on more, but I've had to. I'm lucky to have found two great kids to watch alongside my own for some supplemental income, but at the end of the day I'm absolutely spent. I have no energy left and I can only hope that gets a bit better soon. I think once we hit a groove, it will, but meanwhile I'm treading water. My dad's health issues don't really help matters.<br /><br />It's not all bad -I love my husband and my children immensely and each day we have found several things to laugh about. I thank God for that, and hope he helps us hold this all together.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-53841985865677033072009-02-11T12:57:00.000-08:002009-02-11T13:10:33.577-08:00A girl and her daddy.We now live about a mile from my husband's office, making it easy for him to come home for lunch most days. For the family cook (me) it has meant an adjustment to what lunch means, in general. He'd grown used to leftovers being sent for lunch - complete with a main dish, fruit, vegetable and sometimes even a treat. Meanwhile, it wasn't uncommon for me to fix a mixed plate at home - a bit of cheese, a handful of grapes, some baby carrots and a chunk of cooked chicken or turkey. Sometimes it was just a reheated waffle and some fruit. With all of us eating together, those worlds have collided and the family cook (me) has needed to adjust to being prepared to serve a full meal.<br /><br />There have been some benefits - leftovers never go to waste now, I've learned to plan for each meal to count at least twice. My husband's wasitline has gotten smaller as he can no longer forget his lunch (conveniently or otherwise) and dash out to the fast food place down the street. Our house is closer than any of them.<br /><br />There have also been drawbacks. I'm not always in the mood for a full lunch, but the opportunity to sit down as a family has meant that's what I do. I've learned to use the small plate from our set instead of the full dinner plate and that has helped. Our routine is off at times, as often Joseph wants a nap right as daddy is coming home for lunch, and there are days I'd like to put Emily down a bit earlier but she is NOT about to go down for a nap while Daddy is still home for lunch.<br /><br />The best part, I think, has been the opportunity for the kids to see their dad in the middle of the day. Sometimes he has to work late. At the old house that could easily mean he didn't see them at all that day. This way, he's guaranteed to see them and when they are in good spirits. Well, most of the time. He gets to see how excited they are to see him and he gets to hear my daughter squeal with delight when he opens the garage door. I don't think any of us would trade the newest part of our routine.<br /><br />Garage door opens, he walks inside. He hears Emily squeal and yell, "hide! hide!" and she races to one of three hiding spots. No matter how I've tried to talk to her about how hide and seek is supposed to work, her next step is usually to yell, "come find me, Daddy!" often followed by "I'm hiding...." and tells him exactly where.<br /><br />He finds her. They laugh. Then she asks, "will you marry me?"<br /><br />I don't remember how that last part started, but it's such proof of her love for her Dad.....and it makes them both light up when she asks and he accepts.<br /><br />No matter how hard things have been around here at times, those moments make my day.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-75249295994642380142009-01-29T21:13:00.000-08:002009-01-29T21:32:28.840-08:00Where to begin?<br /><br />Tonight I found myself edgy. Irritable. Stomach cramps sent me running to the bathroom, and then my chest started heaving. I couldn't breathe, wanted to call someone but didn't want to talk. Better still, I didn't know what I'd say when they picked up. I paced my house like a caged animal, not knowing which rooms I'd be walking into or why. Tears streaming down my face and fighting the urge to scream, only because I knew it would wake the children. For the life of me, I didn't know why.<br /><br />Then it hit me. Hard.<br /><br />Only and already, a year ago, we took Joseph to the hospital as he struggled to breathe. Watched as they worked on him. Watched and held him as he got a spinal tap and didn't flinch.<br /><br />It's not that I was unaware of this date looming, though it wasn't a day I had any intentions of observing. I wanted it to fade into the calendar.<br /><br />I was completely aware of the timing on Tuesday, when I found myself headed to the emergency room with Joseph. My daughter had opened the gate at the top of the stairs to get something from the playroom, and for the first time I'd failed to hear her open the gate - and she'd failed to close it. Joseph fell down our stairs, landing face first on our stone entryway.<br /><br />My SIL lives between our house and the hospital, so she watched Em as I was in the ER with Joseph. It was just him and me, and that was the only thing allowing me to hold it together. As soon as we were entering the ER, a wave of panic hit. The flashbacks I have anyway were intensified, and they came wave after wave after wave instead of just a few images. I felt like I was drowning, but I had to hold it together for him and I did.<br /><br />But tonight, my husband is at band practice. The kids are both fine, asleep and we are just past that time of night when it is polite to call. There are people I could call and they would understand, one in particular, but I can't dial the phone. I just can't. I know part of it is because even as bad as this is, I don't want to fully surrender to it. I don't want to feel all over again the fear and the worry and the panic. It's hell, and I just keep reminding myself that it's over. No matter how bad the memories are, they are memories. It isn't happening now. It just feels that way.<br /><br />Tonight comes down to timing. Not just a date on the calendar, or the coincidence that practice night fell on this night as it did a year ago....that Emily was sleeping and I was trying to rouse Joseph for a feeding.. after he'd gone from seeming fine to seeming lethargic to skipping breaths in such a short, short time. I know that part of why I'm having this breakdown is because I can. There's nobody awake in the house but me, so I don't have to look brave or sane, for that matter. I don't have to pretend to be okay.<br /><br />At one point I thought I'd set a counseling appointment for this week, but then life got busy and I didn't make it a priority. I should have. I'll probably still call tomorrow to see about next week.<br /><br />In the meantime, at least typing it out has helped calm me a bit. I still think it's a bit freaky that I forgot long enough to actually wonder WHY I was flipping out. It's almost funny.<br /><br />Almost.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-26665769507223473392009-01-26T13:23:00.000-08:002009-01-26T13:33:25.670-08:00Sometimes I wonder how two people can experience the same thing, yet process it so differently. A bit like the joke about having 5 people involved in an auto accident and the police receiving 6 versions, our memory and experience are so easily colored by who we are and where we are in life. I know that, and yet I still sometimes have struggled with how my husband has perceived the last year...longer than that actually....my pregnancy and Joseph's life so far. There are times we talk about what happened and I find myself wanting to yell, "you were there, how could you not know/remember/get this?" A lot of that boils down to his wonderings about why certain things didn't get done or why I'm still recovering. I'm sure, too, that a lot of it has to do with my tendency to minimize how sick and in pain I was. It doesn't help that never once did I say, "I can't do it." I just DID for the most part.<br /><br />I've been frustrated, feeling like he's handled so much of what happened better than I have. He doesn't have flashbacks or moments when it seems his stomach is caught in his throat. Why? Am I just so poorly equipped to handle all this, that I'm failing miserably while he is not? It seems so unfair. Where is that strength in me? Where are those bootstraps I need to pull myself up?<br /><br />Occasionally, however, there is a glimpse. A glimpse that maybe at the time he did get it, that maybe he's still processing some of it too.<br /><br />On the night before Joseph's birthday, I had a horrible dream. One that even now I can't talk about. I can't type it, I haven't told anyone, I just know the root of the dream is tied to all the days of fearing we'd lose him, the times we came close, everything we went through. The next morning, my husband said, "I had an awful dream."<br /><br />It wasn't the same as mine in detail, but the root was the same. So very tied to our fears and the realization that he's ok.<br /><br />I would have never wished a nightmare on my husband, but in hearing his expression of fear there was some validation of mine. A reminder that yes, he was right there, gripping my shoulder until it bruised as we watched them work on our son. A year ago today, we were so naive. We had no idea what we were in for, and I'm glad because we had those few days of peace before our world became a very scary place.<br /><br />Sometimes I wish for strength, but other times I'm ok with settling for the knowledge that these emotions weren't mine alone. Sometimes I think maybe it would be good for us to go to a counselor together...though I know it would be more for my sake than his, and sometimes that seems unfair.<br /><br />I just know I'm ready to put some of this behind us, move on, and stop feeling like I'm dragging the weight of these emotions with me.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-8175308300031497732009-01-16T06:41:00.000-08:002009-01-17T03:24:36.327-08:00Dear Joseph,Bobo, Bojo, Jojo, Bogee, Jogee, Boge, Monkey-a-bobo....my son...My sweet, sunshine boy.<br /><br />Before your heart began beating, before any test could confirm your presence, I knew you were there. Maybe that's why, despite being shocked at how fast your first year has gone, it feels as if I have been loving you forever. You have always felt like a meant to be baby, even before we knew you were on the way.<br /><br />We held onto that feeling, your dad and I, when things with the pregnancy got scary. Each trip to the hospital, "This baby was meant to be" was a bit of a mantra for me. It was scary, and I held onto faith, family and friends, hoping you would be all right. Hoping I could do my job in keeping you safe until you were ready for the outside world.<br /><br />On the evening of January 16, 2008, after spending months in preterm labor and weeks in prodromal labor, I wrote a letter <a href="http://fireflycafe.blogspot.com/2008/01/dear-little.html">http://fireflycafe.blogspot.com/2008/01/dear-little.html</a> to you about reaching the milestone when you could be born into a room full of joy, not fear. You were born January 17, 2008 at 10:09am to a room filled with joy.<br /><br />Our world changed forever that day. For Daddy, Emily and me, you have been our sunshine boy. Smile maker and heart healer, you made our family complete. On the roughest of days, you bring joy to our hearts.<br /><br />We have had a few rough days, I'm afraid. I wish I could say things got easier for you after you were born. You spent 8 days in the pediatric intensive care unit for a pneumonia caused by my illness when pregnant with you, two weeks on oxygen after that. A few weeks later, during what should have been a routine procedure, you almost needed a blood transfusion. And, instead of having a healthy mama, yours has spent the majority of your first year being ill.<br /><br />The thing is, nobody would ever know this by looking at you. You are a miracle, many times over, and we are so lucky to have you. We are blessed beyond comprehension. Your are beautiful and healthy...I have to say it again...perfectly HEALTHY.<br /><br />During the complications of your pregnancy, your dad and I reminded ourselves and each other of the feeling we'd always had - that you were meant to be. When you were sick, it was harder, but again we reminded ourselves. We joked about the big destiny you must have before you, to go through all this and come out ok. We've now lost track of how many other people have said you were meant to be, that you have a important life to lead. Total strangers stop in their tracks, just to talk with you. A Jyotish reading, strangers, a woman halfway across the world - all have made a point to say you were meant to be, have a big destiny, and that somehow we are your perfect parents.<br /><br />I don't know what your future has in store, what your role in this world will be. I just know you have changed my world for the better, a thousand times over. Your dad and I feel honored and blessed to be your parents, and your sister can't get enough of you. You're such a happy boy, your grins and giggles are contagious. One day we were in the store and a pretty grumpy looking guy finally broke down after you kept smiling at him and trying to get a reaction from him. He said, "how am I supposed to stay in a bad mood when he keeps grinning at me like that?" Exactly.<br /><br />I'm writing this at 4:15 in the morning, unable to sleep, and remembering at this time a year ago, I was waking your dad up to tell him it was time to go to the hospital. How time flies.<br /><br />Happy, Happy Birthday Joseph. I can't wait to see you dig into your cake, watch you amuse the relatives with cruising around the furniture and putting the wrapping paper on your head. If you happent to look back on the pictures of this day and see tears in your mama's eyes (or even maybe dad's) please know they are tears of joy, relief and tremendous gratitude for every day and every breath of this year of your life.<br /><br />We love you and we thank God for you every day.<br /><br />Happy Birthday, Little.<br />MommyRosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-87139146169155153172009-01-10T14:40:00.000-08:002009-01-10T14:57:32.492-08:00I've always been a crier. Angry, excited, happy, frustrated....regardless of the emotion, once it hits a certain level - I cry. In the soundtrack of my life, the music would be full of those moments when the music swells.<br /><br />At times that's been something that frustrated me, especially when I was angry. Nothing ticked me off more than to be angry and have tears well up in my eyes, and along the way I learned some tricks including one in a seminar about women in business. The speaker suggested if you find yourself in a situation where you feel you're going to cry but it just isn't something you can allow to happen, drink a glass of water as fast as you can. It's really hard to cry while you're drinking water.<br /><br />Which means I must have spent the last several months drowning.....because there have been times I've kept waiting for the floodgates to open and found myself shocked not to be crying. Matter of fact, there have been many monents over the last year that I shocked myself by not sobbing. Maybe it was shock? Self-defense? I don't really know...because it's not that the emotions haven't been there. Prior to this, the only time I didn't cry when I fully expected to was my wedding .....and that was because EVERYONE expected me too and I was trying so hard to hold it together. Though my voice did waiver, my eyes did fill with tears...but I wasn't the gooey mess everyone expected.<br /><br />I'm almost sorry I didn't open up betting among my friends and family for when my breakdown might occur. It might not be too late. Some might have expected it to happen after my first surgery, or the second, or when I broke my foot this summer. Possibly when I discovered it is still broken? Or when we bought a house? Figured out we're going to owe WAY more on taxes than we thought?<br /><br />I thought for sure I was going to lose it when I got the diagnosis of Interstitial Cystitis recently, and the accompanying news that it's a forever condition. That they want me on a three times a day medication that won't even start helping for 3-6 months. That it can cause debilitating pain at times, and that part of it just might not go away...and in the meantime I'm on a special diet to figure out what my triggers are...and so far they are some of my favorite things. Like REALLY spicy food. But no, that didn't do it.<br /><br />Neither did the discovery that I have tons of scar tissue in my urethra from Joseph's birth - scar tissue that should have come to their attention every time I had a catheter after his birth. I had a procedure this week that will need to be repeated three more times and it is excruciatingly painful. <br /><br />No, the thing that might just do me in is probably the one that most people around me will not understand at all. After my procedure I was given a medication high in salicylates, which happen to be boldly marked on my chart as something I'm very allergic to. I've been having to take benadryl until it gets out of my system and pump and dump milk until it's gone.<br /><br />Pumping hasn't been working, I haven't been able to pump ANYTHING and I chalked it up to stress, reaction to the medication, etc and then it hit me.....I've been taking benadryl. An antihistamine that can dry up a milk supply in no time flat. I may have just weaned my son without even realizing it, and while I know logically that my first responsibility was to take care of myself, I will be devastated if this is the thing that brings a complete end to nursing.<br /><br />Most people around me won't understand what that means to me, and if I tell them I'm upset about it most will blow it off. I'm sure to hear things like "well, he is about to turn a year old..." or "that's what formula is for..."<br /><br />They won't understand that it has been a point of pride for me that through all of this I've still been able to nurse my son, that it is one of the few things in his first year that I don't feel was taken away from me. That infertility and illness have left me feeling broken and betrayed, and nursing was a case of my body NOT letting me down.<br /><br />I'm sitting here, sobbing, and feeling like very few people are going to understand why I feel so broken hearted. I wondered when the tears would start, but right now I'm worried about whether they will stop. People in my life have said I've been strong through this, they don't know I've held it together, etc.<br /><br />The thing is, I don't feel strong, I don't feel as if I've held it together. I feel very weak, completely overwhelmed and discouraged and as broken apart as one can be.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-9562471390303661782008-12-30T13:36:00.000-08:002008-12-30T14:00:49.657-08:00The family newsletter I didn't send.I want so badly to write a funny post, about the family newsletter I didn't send. I'd recap 2008, including the births of Joseph and Frankencoochie - one adorable and wonderful, the other terrifying and still needing repair. I'd talk about anesthesia being the best (and feeling like the only) sleep I've gotten, and the stresses that can be added to a family by the birth of a baby, threat of the loss of that baby only 12 days later to bacterial pneumonia and my concurrent illness. His was 8 days in the hospital, mine was 8 months of antibiotics and two surgeries...with the after effects still ongoing. I want to make jokes, make light.....but the words get caught in my throat.<br /><br />I want to write that post, but I can't.<br /><br />Instead, I want to write about my son.<br /><br />In less than three weeks, my son will be a year old. I'm not having an easy time with this. It was hard when Emily turned a year old, my baby having grown so fast.....but it is harder this time. This year seems to have gone so much faster than her first, and we've all been through so much more this time around.<br /><br />My son is going to turn a year old, and it will mark the biggest miracle I've ever witnessed. He is on the verge of walking, he's saying some words (Mama, Dada, Hi, Wow, yes, Emmy, yeah, kitty) and he lights up every room he enters. He is such a flirt, shameless. He is healthy and vibrant and funny. He is HEALTHY.<br /><br />So many times I prayed for his safe arrival, not knowing the worst of the danger would be after he was out. It's starting to get easier to forget (or at least not think about) how he looked with the oxygen tubes he wore for weeks. More days go by at a time without me remembering how he looked, tiny and small in a hospital bed, hooked up to so many monitors it was hard to hold him - but I did every chance I got.<br /><br />He's going to be a year old, and sometimes it's hard not to feel cheated. Cheated by the time that passed while he was so sick and in the hospital - time that should have been spent nesting with my newborn. Hard not to feel cheated by the time I've spent ill, in surgery, recovering, then in surgery again. I want a rewind button so I can go back and enjoy some of those days, because he will never again be that little. So instead I try to hold onto these days. <br /><br />Sometimes that means when he cries at night, even when I should let him settle himself, I still go in. Sometimes it means I go in to check on him when he's sleeping - to make sure he's warm enough, to look at his sleeping body and watch his chest rise and fall.<br /><br />I'm not ready for him to be a year old, but I am more grateful than I can ever express that THIS is my problem, that THIS is what I'm grieving.<br /><br />If I were to sum up the real message I'd send my friend and family,<br />"2008 was bad in so many ways, but it could have been so much worse, we have been incredibly lucky and we are grateful to have had friends and family that came through for us when we needed them most."Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-7303151514587342542008-12-16T19:09:00.000-08:002008-12-16T19:18:33.600-08:00Just call me Kermit.Green has always been a good color for me. With pale skin, dark hair and green eyes it usually worked well. This particular shade, however, does not suit me a bit.<br /><br />My brother's girlfriend is pregnant.<br /><br />I want to be happy for them. I want to think, "Yay! Another niece or nephew who will think I am super cool." I'm just not there, and I have only a few days to get it together before I have to fake it.<br /><br />It might be easier if the relationship between the two of them were better, if the girlfriend didn't hold my niece (a few months younger than my own daughter) over my brother as the ultimate bargaining tool, if it weren't for the fact that my niece is the main reason the two of them are still together. It might be substantially easier if my brother hadn't been considering leaving her psycho ass anyway, despite her behavior with regard to their daughter, and now that has all changed. Not saying he should or shouldn't, just saying she is too much like my own mother to be good for anyone.<br /><br />It might be easier if the girlfriend wasn't giggling over her oops, or making "he just gets near me" comments - according to my sister, who was the one to tell me. She didn't want everyone to show up at my house for Christmas and have it hit me like a load of bricks when I opened the door. Because she is teeny, and 2 months along, and showing.<br /><br />It might be easier, but I doubt it, because despite my thoughts that I was getting over some of this infertility crap I'm apparently not over it. I'm ashamed to say that as soon as my sister told me, the tears were in my eyes and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. WHY? My family is complete, there were never going to be more children for me beyond two even if I hadn't had the infection and subsequent hysterectomy. It's not like I was planning/hoping for more children and now it won't happen, and it's happening for someone else.<br /><br />I'm embarassed to be this upset about it. I know part of it is their lack of regard for the miracle of life and her specific lack of appreciation for the daughter they have. It's only part though. In what feels like being petty, these emotions I'm feeling are mostly about me....and this isn't about me.<br /><br />It isn't about me.<br /><br />I keep telling myself and yet I'm the one having the big ass pity party as if it is. Maybe it's grief over the fact that I once deluded myself about having an ooops the second time around, or at least not trying for years.<br /><br />I have tried to write this so many times, and no matter how I write it, I sound like an asshole. THe thing is, I don't have it in me to write it in a nicer way, and I don't have it in me to delete it again.<br /><br />It's not easy being green.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-4256896476784462302008-11-27T08:02:00.000-08:002008-11-28T11:15:58.270-08:00I watched the sun rise this morning, from the gradual lessening of the darkness to full daylight. Kids, cats and husband were all asleep. It was me, the sun and God.<br /><br />As I watched the changing sky, I finally let out some of the grief I've been holding in, let my gratitude overwhelm me and let the tears fall where they may. I talked to God, really talked, and laid it all out - realizing there have been so many things I've kept inside, things I never really had to carry alone.<br /><br />I told Him the gratitude I feel has in some ways been as hard to carry as my grief, because they are connected and both feel so much bigger than me. Also because acknowledging some of the things I am grateful for has meant acknowledging what we've been through.<br /><br />Looking back, thinking of my brother's murder, the loss of Eleanor, my pregnancy with Joseph, his birth, his illness and mine, my surgeries, the stresses on my marriage and family life, I took the time to recognize the good things that have come from all of that.<br /><br />My relationship with my father is finally at the point of comfort and stability. I have two healthy children who stun me with their very presence, I am so lucky to have them, so lucky they are both ok that it takes my breath away. My marriage has been through some of the hardest tests a marriage can go through, and we're still standing together.<br /><br />In the last year, I've been reminded of the beautiful, precious fragility of life. I have experienced love, true unconditional love, from my husband, children, family and friends. I have learned I am stronger than I ever thought possible and I have learned to ask for help. I have been reminded of the value of true friends, the kind that when it seemed my world was falling down around me showed up with duct tape and chocolate and helped me make it better. I have learned that what doesn't kill you actually can make you stronger, but not in the ways you'd think.<br /><br />As I sat in our new home, allowing myself to be amazed by how much has happened and grateful for where it has led me, I took time to say thanks for the home itself. For the food in the pantry, the heat running through the pipes, the soft warm beds my family was sleeping in and the protection from the cold air outside.<br /><br />I remembered those whose loved ones are far away or no longer with them. I thought of our military and their families, prayed for their safety, well-being and reunion. I thought of those who are cold, hungry, scared, abused, lonely or feeling forgotten.<br /><br />I asked that God look over us all, and enjoyed the warmth of the sunshine and my blessings.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-21042610689282912112008-11-12T18:28:00.001-08:002008-11-12T18:56:48.690-08:00I don't know how I'm doing it.In the last two weeks, we've sold a home, purchased a home, and completed a large portion of the remodeling on that home. I've had pneumonia, daily confirmation my broken foot has not healed correctly and gotten the wonderful news that I need surgery. Again.<br /><br />Between the cold he just got over and the breakthrough of two new teeth, Joseph's nighttime sleep hasn't been the greatest though I'm so grateful for good naps during the day. Emily is holding her own, but I'm worried about the change of home and school for her knowing how much she loves her current school. I'm sure she'll do fine, but it's a stress for me.<br /><br />I've been getting up early, approximately 5 hours after stopping work the previous day and not necessarily getting to sleep all of those hours. The bags under my eyes are almost big enough to save me a moving box and there's still so much for us to do before move in. Today I painted the kitchen (minus the cabinets - there's just not enough time to do that right now).<br /><br />Tomorrow is shaping up to be insane with the following on the schedule:<br />-Get Emily off to school<br />-Buy more ceiling and trim paint, exchange a light fixture for one NOT missing several components<br />-Meet with the phone installer<br />-Take Joseph to his 9 month appointment (for those keeping track at home, he's 10 months on Monday. We're a bit behind)<br />-Go to Sam's for food for the moving crew<br />-Get electrician and gutter installer started on their projects<br />-Paint playroom/office (HUGE room)<br />-Wonder what I'm forgetting, because there is something else....<br /><br />I've had a few people ask how I'm doing it. I think moving is the only thing keeping me from falling down out of simple exhaustion. I feel like I'm burning the candle at both ends as well as in the middle and running out of candle. I want desperately to sleep but my clock is ticking and I'm running out of time. We've had a lot of help but there's still a lot to do between now and the move. We pick up the moving truck Friday, our official move isn't until Saturday. I know my husband, though - if he has his way almost everything will be IN the truck Friday night. Everything but those things we can't lift together that is - my strength is not what it used to be and it's not going to get better between now and then.<br /><br />In the midst of all this, focusing on the tasks at hand have been a good diversion in some ways. Physical labor has taken the place of overthinking in some instances. There have been a few cracks though, times when I'm not even thinking about how tired I am or how stressful things have been. Times I'm not thinking about what this year has been like or the fact that surgery looms once again, and yet suddenly I'll find myself with tears falling that I didn't even know had surfaced. I joke that after this is all over, I'm taking a mini vacation to the loony bin.<br /><br />The thing is, the joke isn't even really that funny. Sometimes, a day or two in the psych ward sounds like a good idea.<br /><br />With regard to the surgery - I have an appointment mid-December with a urologist. After an appointment with the surgeon who did my hysterectomy, it is thought I have the following going on:<br />-interstitial cystitis<br />-need for a bladder suspension<br />-possible need for reconstruction to my urethra<br />-"something else as well, perhaps."<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br />I keep moving because I have to. I need to. But I also need to SLEEP.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-57638635602681045692008-11-10T21:56:00.000-08:002008-11-10T22:10:46.933-08:0010 daysTen days ago we purchased our new home. When I left it this evening, I was stunned by the fact there's a lot left to do but we have made an amazing amount of progress in 10 days. Even though we've been working away that whole time, today was a turning point. Today, the house started to feel like it had turned into our future home.<br /><br />We have spent many, many hours stripping wallpaper. So many that it is disheartening to think of what we could have accomplished in the same amount of hours and muscle aches. I have one finger that doesn't hurt and the rest of me is wrecked. Neck, head, back, shoulders, stomach (though that hurts from coughing), legs, butt - all of me. I swear to you if I get through this without dropping 20 pounds, I will be amazed. Oh, and the PCOS poster child.<br /><br />We were supposed to have a family friend over to help with painting starting Saturday- and this person has a sprayer so it would presumably have made things go much faster. He forgot, went hunting instead, and we found ourselves doing everything by hand. We didn't even get to start anything other than taping until Sunday. We made up for lost time though!<br /><br />As of when I left the house tonight the following had been done:<br /><br />Paint - finished in the dining and living room areas, entry, hall, three bedrooms (master and children's rooms).<br /><br />Flooring - walnut floor installed in dining room, living room, hallway. Sanded and will be stained tonight. Old carpet and pad removed and new carpet installed in three upstairs bedrooms (same rooms mentioned above). Old carpet removed and pad installed in remaining two bedrooms, hall and playroom. Old vinyl removed from all three bathrooms and laundry room, new subfloor installed.<br /><br />Electrical - any switches that needed to be replaced were taken care of today, and we replaced the light fixtures in the dining and living rooms, cleaned up most of the vintage lights we were keeping and purchased materials to strip the paint off the bathroom light fixtures that were painted at some point. The "creative" wiring job for the garage door openers was also redone.<br /><br />Tomorrow, we're scheduled to have the vinyl floor installed in the three bathrooms and laundry room. We'll also see the rest of the carpet go in. The hardwood floor will get another sanding and be sealed. We should also be able to complete painting of the kitchen, any touch up in the upstairs bedrooms and possibly even see the playroom painting completed.<br /><br />After tomorrow, we won't be able to walk on the hardwood floor for three days, but we'll still be able to access the downstairs for more stripping of wallpaper adhesive. That needs to happen in one bedroom, the downstairs hall and the laundry room. Then we can paint those rooms.<br /><br />Have I mentioned lately how much wallpaper SUCKS? The hours we've spent getting the layers of wallpaper down are ridiculous. There were three layers in some rooms, none of them attractive and all of them pasted like life depended upon the paper sticking to the wall.<br /><br />We have been working our butts off at the house, but today we finally felt we were seeing progress. It's a good thing too - we move in Saturday!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-15118847486973593202008-11-01T06:38:00.001-07:002008-11-01T06:39:21.042-07:00A new beginningYesterday, we closed on the sale of our new house.<br /><br />I'm excited, nervous about the extreme amount of work and hoping I can get over my pneumonia before moving day.<br /><br />Mostly, though, I'm excited. We need a new start in a lot of ways. More to come!Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-67274973231543075842008-10-24T07:18:00.000-07:002008-10-24T16:18:04.066-07:00I know I'm not alone in my love of fall, the glory of its color and the cool, crisp air that begins the day. The crunch of the leaves beneath my feet, the craving for apple cider and the chance to pull my sweaters out make me glad that fall is here. Simple pleasures for a time of year that feels anything but simple to me.<br /><br />October is difficult. Halloween, especially.<br /><br />I'm blessed to have had three grandfathers in my life, but the memory of the passing of two of them is triggered every year by Halloween decorations. My parents had spent the day decorating our house for Halloween on the day my first grandfather died. Dad picked me up at my after school job to tell me, and I came home to a plywood coffin on the porch. Two weeks later, my other grandfather died, and when we returned from both funerals the decorations were still there. When my dad pulled the decorations out the next year, I screamed at him.<br /><br />October is when my Eleanor would have been due, she'd have been a year old this month. I can't imagine life without Joseph, but sometimes I imagine life with Eleanor. Would she have been serious, like Emily, as a baby or giggly like Joseph? My living children are blonde, but somehow I always picture Eleanor and Benjamin with dark hair like mine. I'll never know.<br /><br />Benjamin was lost in the month of October, on Halloween night. It was the last time I wore a Halloween costume, though I'm sure that won't stay true forever. He'd be just over 4 now. The year before last, I "ghosted" the neighborhood with suprise treats of candy on their doorsteps in his honor. It seemed the kind of thing he'd have laughed over, sneaking around to leave treats in the dark of night.<br /><br />I didn't do anything like that last year. After we took Emily trick or treating, we got her to bed and then I couldn't stop contracting. I spent the rest of Halloween night on monitors in labor and delivery and getting extra doses of terbutaline, hoping there wouldn't be another October loss.<br /><br />This year, we're taking both kids to trick or treat after the closing the sale of the home we have lived in for the last 8 years. I'd like to think we're starting a new chapter, with excitement about halloween - less tinged with sadness.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-40163167425000889732008-10-21T20:05:00.001-07:002008-10-21T20:18:02.846-07:009 months (and a few days)My son,<br />If only you knew how those two words get me at my very core. I'm not sure the day will ever come that I say those words and don't find myself a little suprised at them. They fall in the same category as the words "my daughter" and "my kids." Sometimes I find myself saying those words just to hear myself say them. Have I told you today how lucky I am to have you?<br /><br />Enough about me, this is about you. (And me) Mostly about you.<br /><br />Nine months is such a neat age, watching you in the magical in between space between infant and toddler. I want to press pause and keep you in this place a bit longer, where you still go down for your naps fairly easily and cuddle against me when you are tired instead of straining to get down and walk away. Of course, there are times you strain against my arms as if you expect to be put down so you can walk away - but you just aren't there yet, and for now I am glad.<br /><br />Crawling all over the place, scooting, danger rolls, whatever it takes to get where you're going - you are all over it. Your focus shifts across the room to whomever is most active, whoever will make you giggle, whatever object strikes your fancy. Is it shameless bragging or mother love that makes me boast that for now I am your favorite? A little of both, I'm afraid...though I think I might be slipping in the ranks some days. I can make you giggle and smile, but your sister does it best. We've had strangers in the grocery store ask her to repeat the noise or gesture that cracked you up, because your laugh is like sunshine but loud and infectious at the same time. People beg to hear it over and over.<br /><br />You've got your two bottom, middle teeth and the top two are rapidly approaching. You smile big, toothy grins that melt us all. You are truly our sunshine boy and it is often a competition to see who is going to get to you first after your nap. Notice I didn't say in the morning? That's because mama loves you best. Don't forget it. Oh, and something about nobody else wants to get up that early. Mostly it's that I love you best, though, I swear.<br /><br />You're active and engaging, and you've learned that Mama, Dada and hi are words that will get you a smile immediately. Your sister has been trying to get you to say "Emily" for some time now, and she might just save her pennies to buy you a pony if you do it soon. She'd give just about anything to hear it, though she reminds us you can't say many things because you don't have all your teeth yet. I have to admit I'm a bit glad you don't have them all, as you're still going strong on nursing.<br /><br />At 17 pounds, you're not a heavy guy, but if I ever remember to measure your length I'm sure we'll find you're fairly tall for your age. If you keep trying to pull up on things, it's only a matter of time before you're standing. From then on, we know nothing is safe, so we're hoping that holds off for just a bit longer. Maybe that's selfish, but we have an awful lot of packed boxes around this place right now.<br /><br />You're healthy and perfect in every way, and we're so lucky to see you growing and thriving. Did I mention you eat like a teenage boy? Last night I literally lost track of everything I'd fed you until I looked at the samples of everything you'd dropped on the floor. We call you Joey Garbanzo because you can't get enough of garbanzo beans. Of all the things you eat, that's your favorite besides milk. Who knew?<br /><br />I have more to say, but guess who just woke up?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-22809347517241840432008-10-21T19:52:00.000-07:002008-10-21T19:56:06.596-07:00No, really, I wrote every day.Recently, we had a glitch with our internet connection that I still haven't figured out. I could get to a web page, but if I needed to click a link to read the rest of an article or post or heaven-forbid <em>follow a link </em>it was all over. Every time. Ditto for logging in anywhere, which made working, writing or generally browsing a nightmare. Not good timing when I'd committed to a blog post per day and had a few ideas for articles to submit to a magazine and needed to do some research.<br /><br />So, I wrote about my sick daughter, my son's 9 month check-up, the stresses of moving and my tendency lately to avoid sleep as if it's something I hate instead of the thing I crave most. I wrote and wrote and then got frustrated because I couldn't post those things here, couldn't prove that I was actually making good on my promise to blog every day for a month.<br /><br />My internet connection is back, but I'm in a funk over the whole thing. It should be easy to shake it off and realize that it just doesn't matter whether I made the commitment work, but I'm so frustrated at the fact I wrote every day but still didn't meet my goal because they items weren't posted.<br /><br />Off to sulk.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-24188144567004127252008-10-16T07:42:00.000-07:002008-10-16T07:44:19.540-07:00Farty naughtyI logged onto the blog, Temperature started playing and my daughter started giggling. I thought maybe it was because I was moving my sons arms to make him dance to the music.<br /><br />Then she said, "he said farty naughty."<br /><br />It certainly sounds like she's right. What in the world IS he saying right there?Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-41117351939841414502008-10-15T08:00:00.000-07:002008-10-15T08:00:00.876-07:00I will remember.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxYmHViKZ0wPF5cx2lnFvPZ3WnJHhoe44WisqsY1v6w7bftW3xbZaXb1_UcxWgt5jKd_sHn0gHUMxMElOr5_z-Nzw9iR5FMQYIjjC5q86UR2nfi_xOFXXOXpk5QBWHq6v0lEf3TQL0lcn/s1600-h/oct15_banner.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257230799727531026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxYmHViKZ0wPF5cx2lnFvPZ3WnJHhoe44WisqsY1v6w7bftW3xbZaXb1_UcxWgt5jKd_sHn0gHUMxMElOr5_z-Nzw9iR5FMQYIjjC5q86UR2nfi_xOFXXOXpk5QBWHq6v0lEf3TQL0lcn/s400/oct15_banner.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><p>At 7pm local time, I'll place a lit candle on my front porch - adding to the many being lit across my town, state, country... to be part of a wave of light bringing recognition to those who are all too often grieved in silence, when noone is looking. </p><p>I'll light the candle for Benjamin, Eleanor, Mary Catherine, Rivi, Aimee and Dana, Ashley, Gabriel, Maya, Kylie and far too many others. </p><p> </p>Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6680352579624918635.post-13818218080305906402008-10-14T12:23:00.000-07:002008-10-14T12:28:31.792-07:00This is really happening.Today I talked with the lender for our house to make arrangements to get the appraisal done and the mortgagee clause faxed so I can write the insurance on the home. As I hung up the phone it hit me that this is really happening, that buying this house isn't an <em>if </em>- it has become a <em>when. </em><br /><em></em><br />We're making plans for painting, getting estimates on carpeting and our current house is about 65% packed. We're starting to reach the point where there are fewer items that can be packed without needing them later or running out of room to put the boxes. My husband's band practices in our garage and right now his drums are in their cases in anticipation of his gig tonight. Part of me wishes we could keep them that way until the move, as there would be a ton of room in the garage for clearing things out of the house for painting, etc. The guys will be practicing here until the end of the month, though, so that isn't an option. *sigh* that's good and bad - good because I'm going to miss my husband's practices being at our home. I enjoy the guys, enjoy the music and love having my husband home so quickly after practice. Now he's going to have a drive after each practice night and that stinks. Trade-offs.<br /><br />This house is starting to look less and less like our home. I'm trying not to think too much about how sad I'll be to leave it, just how glad I'll be to enjoy the new home.Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12046435354312254726noreply@blogger.com1