Monday, August 31, 2009

A Lovely Giveaway

Have you met Lovelyn? You really should go visit her blog. You should read about her heart and her love for the children of the world. She's traveling to Uganda and bringing two young children home with her, to be hers. Lovelyn's story is one compassion and love.

I don't know Lovelyn in real life, but I hope that changes very soon. (I was introduced to her story through Beth, a dear friend.)

You can learn more about Lovelyn by visiting her site. While you are there, you will see the t-shirts she designed to bring awareness to the tragedy that is 147 million orphaned children in the world. Each child unique, precious, designed for love. To be loved. To be held and kissed and disciplined. To laugh and grow and be a child. To learn and live and become.

Sigh. What can we do? So much poverty in the world, children without homes and clean water and food to nourish their bodies. I want to do so much, but where do we start?

(photo by Beth)

The necklaces pictured above are handmade by Ugandan women, using rolled, torn strips of magazine. By purchasing these necklaces, we are creating jobs for women in Uganda. It's a win - win situation, right?

Well, here's a chance for you to win!

I am giving away TWO of these necklaces to TWO of my lucky readers.

1 entry awarded for each of the following:
1.Leave a comment letting me know who you are going to tell Lovelyn's story to.
2. Write about the giveaway, or about Lovelyn, on your blog and post the link.
3. Tweet about this giveaway and post the link.
4. Post about this giveaway on Facebook.
5. If you purchase (or have already purchased) a shirt or necklace, leave a comment. ALSO, when you get your shirt, contact Beth, as she is doing a secret project with pictures of us wearing our shirts!

*winner chosen by after 9pm, Monday, September 7.

I'm having a hard time wrapping up this post. My heart is broken, and yet rejoicing. I love Lovelyn's story. It's time for me to stop asking God what I can do to change the world, and start doing what He's showing me.

“Sometimes I would like to ask God why He allows poverty, suffering, and injustice when He could do something about it.”

“Well, why don’t you ask Him?”

“Because I’m afraid He would ask me the same question.” - Anonymous

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Playing with Picnik

This little guy is Nemo, Dory's youngest brother. He's cute.

This big little guy is Crush, Dory's oldest, but still younger brother. He's cute too.

And this guy here, he's my handsome husband.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Scared but Hopeful

The results of the test are in. They are <5, which is where they have to be before trying to get pregnant again. I know I should be thrilled about this, but I am more terrified of becoming pregnant again then I ever was before. Just thinking about it gives me butterflies in my stomach.

I am scared that I will be afraid to live, afraid to leave the house. I will walk lighter, not dare sleep on my stomach, not drink caffeine, eat tons of folic acid, AND NEVER HAVE SEX (I'm only kidding. I think).

It's like after getting in a car accident. Every time you get in the car, you think about the accident. You wonder if the person behind you will stop in time. If the car in the lane next to you will see you before switching lanes. If the road is slippery. If the car in front of you has working brakes. You're scared. At least I know I was after I was in a car accident. 7 years later and I still have anxiety attacks when driving and riding in the car.

Hopefully my fears will subside. Hopefully one day soon enough, I will not relate pregnancy with pain and loss. Hopefully, pregnancy will mean having a baby. Hopefully, the hurt will be less.

God, the one and only— I'll wait as long as he says. Everything I hope for comes from him, so why not? He's solid rock under my feet, breathing room for my soul, An impregnable castle: I'm set for life. Psalm 62:5 (The Message)

Sunday, August 23, 2009

All Too Familiar

4 weeks.

28 days.

672 hours.

This day is all too familiar. I am home, watching t.v. Aaron is on his way home from visiting with friends. It is Sunday afternoon. And I have a stomach ache.

Today, it is anxiety. Nerves. Heartache.

4 weeks ago, it was my body, preparing for the loss of my child.

The worst week of my life started on a Sunday afternoon. It started with a little spotting and ended with an empty heart and an empty womb.

Some days are good. Some days are bad. Most days are okay.

Yesterday was good. I had lunch with a friend, I cleaned the house, I watched a couple movies. I went to bed, anticipating seeing Aaron today.

But today is bad. Today is lonely and sad and full of heartache.

But I've learned in the last four weeks, that a day can change in a heartbeat. There are many hours left, and I'll remain hopeful that things can turn around. I have to think this way, or I waste my days.

The journey is long, but there is no other way out of the woods.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Can't See the Forest For the Trees

Definition: overly concerned with detail; not understanding the whole situation

Explanation: Used when expressing that a person is focusing too much on specific problems and is missing the point

I hope I'm not missing the big picture here. I really hope.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Not Here!

I posted over here today.

Feel free to ask questions, if you want. Or send me an email. Or do nothing. I'm cool with whatever.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Sunday, August 16, 2009


Ah. This weekend has been a much needed breathe of fresh air. I enjoyed dinner and a movie on Friday night with Steph, Beth, Arianne, and Erin, who have all become dear friends in the past few months.

Unfortunately, the ties that bind are not always full of fun and sunshine, but they are full of hope and I am thankful to have Beth and Arianne in my life. When I found out about the miscarriage, I knew I had women I could call on. First my mom, then Beth and Arianne. They, along with many others, have experienced this loss first hand, and know that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.

There are many people who have rallied around us during this time and we are so blessed by your friendship.

Yesterday, I spent the day in the pool at my aunt and uncle's house, and enjoyed friendship, pizza, and lots of little kids.

Today, Aaron and I went to lunch and the grocery store. Nothing exciting, but life is getting back to normal, whatever normal is. I'm thankful for this, even if it is hard.

I returned home from the store today to find lots of well wishes on blog posts and in emails from new friends who have come over from Beth's site. I am overwhelmed by the love and friendship. Thank you all so much!

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Missed Appointments

My mom always said "everything happens for a reason". After she had her first miscarriage in 1991, she believed it happened for a reason. Shortly after, she became pregnant with my sister Payton Ruth. We would have loved that baby that she lost, but that Payton Ruth, she is my girl. My best girlfriend. My baby sister.

Everything happens for a reason.

The week before BlogHer, I finally had the pleasure of meeting Clair, who I had been communicating with online since January. We met for dinner, and she hugged me when she walked in the door. People, this is HUGE. She admits to not being a "hugger" but said that I looked "huggable".

We talked like friends who had known each other for years. During dinner, Clair invited me to go with her to BlogHer a day early, to stay in the squishy hotel beds, and go to dinner as part of the What Women Want Ford Event.

I told her I wasn't sure if I would be able to change my doctor's appointment that was scheduled for Thursday morning, and I didn't know if I could arrange the dog to be at the pet hotel a day early. Things worked out. Duke went to the pet hotel on Wednesday and my OB appointment was changed to the following week. The week after BlogHer.

The week of the miscarriage.

I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I would have kept my appointment on Thursday, and gone to the doctor, only to find that there was no heartbeat. My husband was away visiting family and wouldn't have been with me at the doctor that day, and I'm sure I wouldn't have attended BlogHer. I wouldn't have met amazing new people like Amanda and Cassie and Casey and Jenny. I wouldn't have spent time with already amazing friends like Corrin, Toni, and Jen. BlogHer really was a great time. A great time that I might have missed if I'd gone to the appointment on Thursday and found out something was wrong.

I didn't go to the appointment.

Everything happens for a reason.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Loss for words

I really don't know what to say.

To the woman checking me out at the mall, who asked me if I had a baby because I was purchasing something for a baby. Because clearly, the only person who would EVER buy anything for a baby would be their parents.

To the friends on Facebook, who don't read my blog (or pay any attention to what people comment on my status), and who ask how the pregnancy is going.

To the pregnant women I know. The women I was supposed to experience this journey with.

Do I have a baby? No. Do I have a child? Not really, I guess. But am I a mother? Yeah.

I don't know how to answer the questions, I don't know how to congratulate other women on announcing their pregnancy. I just don't know what to say.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

One Year

When we visited our friends Travis and Paula one year ago this past weekend, we did not know we would be coming home with a puppy. We had been looking in all the local shelters, but this cute little puppy just fell into our laps. Two hours into the drive, we decided on the name Duke.

One year later, he's only destroyed one high heel, one pair of flip flops, one pair of capris, and one door frame. Compared to other stories I've heard, he's doing alright!

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Thank you and goodnight.

In the past week, I have experienced raw emotions. I have felt loss. I have felt heartache. I have felt emptiness.

I have also felt love. From you. From my family. From my husband. I have been hugged and held. I have been reminded of Grace.

This journey is truly only beginning for us, and while it is my true desire to respond to every one of you, please know that I (we) appreciate all of your thoughts and prayers and well wishes.

I know I've said it before, but please know that during the saddest moments, when I cannot stop the tears, I read your words and feel your friendship. And it carries me.

Monday, August 3, 2009

A Different Pain

After a miscarriage, you have to get blood tests done to check your hCG levels, which can become as high as 25,700 by the 9th week of pregnancy (I miscarried during my 10th week). The goal is to have the level at <5.0 before trying to get pregnant again. That's a lot of hCG loss. So my hormones are still crazy, because now they're coming down, instead of 5 weeks ago, when they were crazy because they were increasing.

I went in for my first blood drawl today. It was painful beyond imagination, and I didn't even feel the needle. The office was full of pregnant women, at various stages of pregnancy. Some glowing with their little baby bumps, some uncomfortable with their full grown bellies, counting the hours until their babies join them.

I sat on the opposite side of the room. The last time I was there, I knew I had lost my baby, but was hopeful no less. I was with Aaron. We held hands.

Today, I went by myself. I sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes and cried. The receptionist asked me if I was okay. I lied and said yes because I didn't want to have the conversation I've been avoiding all week.

No, I'm not okay. Not at all. Not today.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Sweet Melodies

I was on my way to work this morning, listening to Amazing Grace by Chris Tomlin on my IPod.

It is the same song that played over and over on my way to meet Aaron (at work) before our doctor's appointment on Tuesday.

I was on my way to the same place. Listening to the same song. My emotions were the same, but different. On Tuesday, I was calling out, asking for strength.

Today, I praised. Thankful for the strength to come this far.

Each hour, each minute - a little easier than the last.