Why?

Life is starting to move very quickly. So fast, in fact, that I think my child looks bigger every day. I'm not exaggerating. She's a full-fledged big girl. The baby stage is gone. Long gone, actually. It's really starting to scare me. That to say, this blog is sometimes the last thing on my to-do list, and it just flat-out gets neglected. I'm sorry. I guess if I were making sponsorship money maybe I would make it a priority. So, hopefully you come here to check on new pictures and see what's happening and you're not too terribly disappointed when nothing has been updated. I'm slowing getting organized for a birthday party post. It's only 8 weeks late.

The thing that weighs heavily on me today is the loss of a pregnancy or better suited the loss of a baby. I have had four very close people to me lose a baby in the last few months. One of which was very newly pregnant and three were very far along. Although the ones that are farther along certainly face challenges and grief that others don't, but I think from the first night you lay in bed and know you're pregnant losing that baby would be beyond painful.

These aren't friends of friends, facebook friends or people I know through blogs. These are all people that are near and dear to me. Real life people. One I've known my whole life, and two I have known for close to 25 years and the third for close to a decade. The constant question is always "WHY". Why do these women have to face this tragedy? Why do they have to explain to their older children that the baby died and is going to heaven and not home to live with their family? Why them and not the crack addict that hasn't taken care of her body or have means to take care of a child?

I always end up chalking it up to "the bigger plan". That's all my brain can work with. There's no explanation for adversity in life, other than it's all apart of the path that God has made for you. Although sometimes I think that answer just sucks. That word isn't the nicest of words or very lady-like, and I'm sure my mom isn't thrilled with that selection but there's not a lot of options in this case. It sucks. It's a shitty hand.

It scares me. Selfishly, it scares me for the thought of another pregnancy and healthy child. When will my luck run dry? That's certainly not the way I should view it, but when you look at statistics, at what point are you the next one up? I need the faith that if it's my lot in life then it is. I will handle it and grow and learn and move forward. But I'd kick and scream the whole way.

I once heard that fear is a waste of time. If I spent the number of hours praying that I do fearing something bad will happen I would be in a much better place. I'm trying to absorb that. I've lost more sleep worrying about a child that I'm not pregnant with. That is just flat silly. I guess if we knew it all and mastered it all then the time here would be expired.

So I leave you today without pictures, but to ask you to do something for me. I don't normally ask this of people and am a bit private about this section of my life, but I ask you to pray. I ask you to pray for my loved ones that they find comfort in knowing that sometimes there is no answer to the why. Pray that they find peace in events that have happened in their life. And pray they can find positive in a horrible situation and share their story with others for whom they can help. One of my friends that I'm talking about said yesterday, we find comfort in comforting others. And I think that is absolutely true. Thank God for your friends, your family and your healthy babies. We can't do it alone.

I also have a couple of grandmothers that are close to my heart that are very sick. Pray for them too. Pray that their families find peace and comfort in their special memories and lots of wonderful years of wisdom that they were able to share. If you've made it to being a grandmother and great-grandmother I think it's safe to say "job well done!" And for that let's all hope there is a big reward on the flip-side.....something in a pearly, golden gate!

I hope to be back very soon with more uplifting, happy and joyous posts!

Routine

I looked down yesterday and realized I typically do the same things at the same times each and every day. I suppose that's more likely than the norm when dealing with a very scheduled nine month old.

I wasn't a psycho about a lot when Julia was a baby, but getting a schedule was one thing I was very particular about creating. Those first few weeks threw me for a loop. From one day to the next I had no plan. No clue. No ability to forecast. Not to mention, anxiety out the roof. Fear she would die of SIDS. Fear she would choke to death. But back to the schedule, or lack thereof, sometimes I'd wash bottles at 2 am and sometimes at 2 pm. FINALLY, we got that nailed down and now for the most part I can tell you what happens every second of the day. For my personality, that works. Very. Well.

We do a lot of highchair time these days. It takes a while for a little one to explore, eat, drop and get silly while eating breakfast, lunch and dinner. It's such a precious time of the day for me. We chat. We dream. Sometimes we call dad. Sometimes we look for Guinney.

Being routined, we do meal times in the same spot three times a day. I have a drink holding station next to the highchair. The morning starts like this...and progresses through dinner as follows.

The Today Show is playing in the background.
Most of the time it's quiet during lunch.
We get spicy with some happy hour tunes for dinner.

My mom came last night to babysit so the mister and I could enjoy a dinner sans bebe. She also volunteered to cook up some dinners to freeze and be the wonderful Mimi she is. On her way over I began to think about my earliest memories of schedules and routines.

I have the best memories of my mom cooking dinners, the smell of onions sauteing, music playing and my parents discussing their days over an evening cocktail. I have an overall fuzzy feeling about my home life. Then like a brick in my face, I realized that's exactly what I'm doing with Julia. One day she'll know my music like I know Neil Diamond, James Taylor and Carly Simon. She will (hopefully) have warm and fuzzies about dad coming home from work, me cooking dinner and playing in the living room. And isn't it our job as her parents to see that she is exposed to life, love and happiness? As cliche as that sounds.

Do you recall the mundane of life as a child? Do you do things the way your parents did? Are you instilling those things in your kiddos?

I love you, I love you, I love you...I do.

I have a new bestie. She's starting to look a lot like me. We spend most every second of our day together and we're beginning to form a legit relationship. It's been very one-sided lately. I give, give, give and she takes, takes, takes. But now, she's beginning to open up a bit. I think she digs me. A new found trust has emerged, and I think she's finally realizing that no matter what I will fix it. I will jump in front of a train if I have to, but I will fix it and make it all okay.


I couldn't really pin-point my exact thoughts on the first six months of motherhood. I liked it and without saying, loved my child, but I was feeling a void somewhere.

There are a lot of people out there that could do the newborn phase 10 times over. I would like to give it one more go and then call it a finalized family of four plus the grey four-legger.

Today I read Hollywood Housewife. She nailed it for me. It was refreshing to hear someone else shares my same feelings. And I think there is a fog postpartum that can linger. I think my clouds are parting and the fog is clearing. The feeling of complete isolation is fading away and a different kind of relationship is blooming.


Seven months is when bliss set-in for me. Total and utter bliss. This little baby turned into a little person. She has a personality. She giggles. She scrunches her nose and breathes heavily when she wants my attention. She looks for the dog as soon as she gets out of her crib. She knows her name. She is delighted when Dad gets home from work. She has favorite toys. She loves her bathtime routine and lights up when we sing the bathtime song. She is very proud of herself when she stands herself up. She can hold her sippy cup and finds it amusing when she actually gets the water to come out. She looks for me when she can't see me. This is the part I love. This, I could do over again and again and again. She just exudes her dad and me. It pours out of her. I'm positive she is ours. And positively smitten about her. I think a chunk of wanting a child is seeing yourself and your spouse in them. It's selfish, but unavoidable.

As Laura said, this will be a season I remember.