the bad and the ugly

I've really struggled these last few months with being honest about everything—the good, the bad and the ugly. It was easier for me to skim over the bad parts ("we're devastated," "I cry a lot," etc.) and focus on the good parts. There's this need we all feel to keep conversation lighthearted... as if people won't want to be around us if we're honest with them. No one wants to be a downer. Plus, it was important to me to speak of the good that was coming out of our situation: God's faithfulness and compassion, the outpouring of support from family and friends, the increased intimacy in our marriage... we may have been facing terrible, unimaginable news about our precious firstborn, but we were still SO blessed.

Still, the bad parts were still there. Ugly parts. Parts that were really hard to share with people because voicing them made them real. I kept most things inside. People would say, "I don't know how you're doing it... I would be crying all the time." I hated hearing that. I did cry. I cried in the shower every day for weeks as I held my stomach and sung "Soon," changing all of the "my's" and "I's" to "you." (You will be with the One you love, with unveiled face you'll see Him. There your soul will be satisfied, soon and very soon.) I cried when the lights were out and my face was smushed against my pillow. I cried against Andy's chest. I cried in front of my friends. I cried in front of strangers at the pool. But I couldn't cry ALL the time. I hated all the crying! I hated being sad, because I hated the reason why I was sad. I wanted to smile and laugh and not lose sight of joy. It was a huge relief to me when I could be at a party or out for coffee or wherever and not cry!

I was extra irritable, extra impatient, extra prone to thinking (and sometimes saying) cuss words. I filled my social calendar so that I would be distracted, and then when that got too exhausting I practically fell of the face off the earth and became a hermit for a while. I stopped going to church. Public worship was too hard—I wanted my sob-interrupted praises to be kept private. I couldn't follow sermons because I'd hear a baby cry or a toddler babble and all I could think about was how much I wanted my home to be filled with that noise.

Andy and I had to have conversations about what we were going to name the baby. Those conversations are supposed to be fun and filled with anticipation. They weren't fun. We had to talk about if we were going to hold the baby, if we were going to have testing done, what we were going to do with the remains... all totally crappy conversations to have.

Then, on top of all that, I bled, puked and peed for three days in a hospital room in front of the guy that I have a huge crush on. We held our stillborn son. My body started producing milk not long after I left the hospital. My chest hurt so much I thought I was going to scream. It especially hurt whenever I cried, which was (and continues to be) multiple times a day.

It continues to hurt to laugh, cry, turn over, sit up, sit down, get out of bed, use the stairs, ride in the car... it just hurts. My incision looks horrifying and huge (to me, at least) and all of the severed nerve endings feel like flashes of lightning inside my lower abdomen. My legs ache because they hardly get any exercise.

Oh, and our fridge broke the day before we left for the hospital and it has still not been repaired.

I don't really feel better after typing all the bad and the ugly. I much prefer to share the good. The good is what is important. The good is the moral of our story. The good is what will endure... and what I hope we will choose to remember.

God is gracious

I haven't written in so long. In mid-April we had a confusing ultrasound, but my OB didn't seem concerned, so we didn't let ourselves worry either. Then, at the end of April, another ultrasound confirmed that not only was the baby measuring small but also that the baby simply wasn't growing. We began seeing a group of perinatal specialists and each one told us the same diagnosis: our baby would most likely die in the womb within days or weeks. They had zero idea of what was causing the IUGR. It was horrible and devastating and confusing and sad. I wanted to curl up in a ball and never leave my room, but I fought that temptation as hard as I could and tried to smile and laugh and hang on to my personality. As the days passed I chose to adopt an attitude of thankfulness and focused on being grateful for the time left that I had being my baby's mother. Then June came, and my grief hit full force. I didn't feel grateful anymore. I was angry. If God wasn't going to give us a baby, then why couldn't He make it easier on us and just take the baby already? I hated myself for wanting it to all be over, but it was so hard to feel the baby move and know that all of my baby dreams were being dashed. I was terrified by the idea of delivering a dead baby. I didn't think I wanted to hold a dead baby. I didn't think I wanted to know the gender. I wanted this horrible chapter of my life to be closed shut and for a new chapter to begin.

Living in a state of pre-grief was unimaginable and I know we only survived it by the grace of God and the encouragement of our friends and family. I have more to say about the last few months, but I'll save those stories for another time.

By the beginning of July I was resigned to the idea of making it all the way to my due date (the doctors said if that happened then the baby would only live for seconds or minutes). I couldn't believe our baby was still hanging on! I had no amount of extra amniotic fluid for the baby to move around and grow in, but our little one seemed content to chill out all scrunched up in my uterus. I couldn't help but fall in love with our baby with every passing day, even though a part of me tried to put walls up to keep me from getting too attached. I began fervently asking God to surprise us all and give us a perfectly healthy baby. I had visions of us needing to run to Target after my delivery to buy a crib and diapers and all of the things that we registered for but never received.

This time last week I was being prepped for an emergency c-section to deliver our stillborn baby. I had arrived at the hospital at 11:30 p.m. the night before due to excessive bleeding, and in the early hours of Saturday morning I heard my baby's heartbeat slow down until it didn't exist anymore. I was 34 weeks pregnant carrying a baby who was only measuring around 20 weeks.

We had a boy, and we named him John Andrew. John means "God is gracious/generous." Andrew means "man" and "strong."

It's been one week since we lost our son and his name seems more fitting than ever. God is gracious, and we are being carried by Him right now as we learn to live without the presence of our precious baby.

More to come when I am able.

Psalm 13

How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.

breakfast on the brain

I've been on a major breakfast-foods kick lately. A few weeks ago I had a dream that I was eating a bagel with bacon, egg and cheese, and as soon as I woke up I went to the kitchen to make that dream a reality. It was VERY satisfying.

Then last Saturday I made blueberry muffins to surprise Andy. He only ate ONE (they were delish — he's just crazy). Clearly I had to eat the remaining five muffins. I had just made myself a huge pot of decaf coffee and those muffins were the perfect accompaniment. Don't judge me!!!

Then I got a hankering for pancakes. What is going on here?! I knew my friend was going to join me for dinner before we watched "Sense and Sensibility" together, and when she mentioned simply having eggs or cereal I was allllll over that. We had pancakes, eggs and bacon and topped our pancakes with maple syrup that she had brought as a hostess gift. Sally ate one pancake, one egg and one slice of bacon. I had four pancakes, two eggs and three slices of bacon. I dominated that meal.

I've been wanting to try one (or all) of Beth's baked oatmeal recipes since I stumbled upon Budget Bytes last year. The other two treats look pretty tempting, too! Hopefully if I make any of these I'll show better restraint than I did with the muffins and pancakes...

Blueberry banana baked oatmeal from Budget Bytes

Apple pie muffins from The White Ramekins

French toast bread pudding from Beantown Baker

how well do you know yourself?

I just finished reading "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. The book has mixed reviews on Amazon, but I thought it was an interesting read. I felt the author was honest about herself and her quest, and I liked that her story constantly caused me to pause and consider my own beliefs about happiness and how those beliefs are reflected in my daily life. I took a look at her blog and thought this quiz would be fun to fill out. I'd love to know your answers, if you're up for sharing!

questions were pulled from this post of "The Happiness Project" blog

If something is forbidden, do you want it less or more? Usually less, because most things are forbidden for good reason. If it's something like fries or chocolate, then come on. More, please.

If you unexpectedly had a completely free afternoon, what would you do with that time? Read a book at a coffee shop.

Are you comfortable or uncomfortable in a disorderly environment? Uncomfortable.

How much time do you spend looking for things you can’t find? Not much, because I'm pretty good at remembering the bizarre places that someone might have left something. One time Andy went to get a gift card out of his wallet and it wasn't there. He freaked out because the card held a significant amount of money. I don't know if it was a few hours or a few days later, but I suggested he look in the plastic bag under the bathroom sink that he had used to pack up extra toiletries when we moved to a new house. Sure enough, the gift card was in the bag.

Are you motivated by competition? If I think I can win, maybe. I'm not often in competitive situations.

Fill in the blank: “I really wish I could make consistent progress on my project to: keep our dining room table clear of clutter.”

Do you find it easier to do things for other people than to do things for yourself? Yes.

Whom do you envy? Why? You know, I don't let myself go there. Sure, I get jealous sometimes, but there isn't one person who has everything I don't have. 

What do you lie about? (For instance, a friend told me he’d been telling people that he walked to work, when in fact he almost never does.) Hmmm... that's a hard one! I don't think I lie about anything, but I probably don't give the cold hard truth, either. For example, I tell people I don't exercise much these days. Really I should say that I don't exercise at all, except for the occasional long walk.

What did you do for fun when you were ten years old? Do you still do that activity–or would you like to do it? I read, played teacher and wrote stories. These days, I do all of those things! 

Do you work constantly? or think you should be working? No, I don't work constantly. I currently have three part-time jobs and I have a lot of flexibility with my schedule. Some weeks I work a lot, but others I hardly work at all. My work life is well suited for my current life circumstances.

Do you embrace rules or flout rules? I mostly embrace them, but I've always been a slight risk-taker.

Do you work well under pressure? Deadlines? YES. I work best when I'm on a deadline. 

What would your perfect day look like? Sleeping in, waking up to sunshine, having a big breakfast prepared for me, spending the afternoon on a boat or a beach with my hot husband, yummy snacks and a good book, and then wrapping up the day with dinner and games with friends or family.

Are you a morning person or a night person? Neither? I tend to get cranky and restless in the afternoon.

What’s more satisfying to you: saving time or saving money? Saving money. 

Do you like to be in the spotlight? I wish I could say no... but yeah, I do. I love to tell stories and make people laugh.

What would you do if you had more energy? I don't like that question. I do want more energy, but the root issue of why I don't do things is because I don't want to. Example: clean more. 

If you suddenly had an extra room in your house, what would you do with it? Nooo! We don't need any more rooms! I probably wouldn't do anything at all - just shut the door and try very hard to avoid filling it with junk. 
What people and activities energize you? Make you feel depleted? I get energized by people who are good conversationalists (they ask questions, show interest, answer my questions honestly, etc). I like to take walks and do activities that are thrilling but aren't terribly taxing, like jet-skiing. Or activities that test trivia, like watching Jeopardy or crossword puzzles. People who are disagreeable or critical deplete me. Shopping depletes me if I'm alone.

Is it hard for you to get rid of things that you no longer need or want? Not at all.

On a typical night, what time do you go to bed? How many hours of sleep do you get? I go to bed any time between 9:30 and 11 and typically turn out the light between 11 and 11:30. I usually get 8-9 hours of sleep.

If at the end of the year, you had accomplished one thing, what is the one accomplishment that would make the biggest difference to your happiness? It's hard to measure, but becoming more like Christ. That accomplishment would have a positive affect on every aspect of my life.

Is there an activity that you love to do–yet somehow never seem actually to do it? Not that I can think of. Maybe blog? Haha.

homemade queso blanco

I volunteered to make queso for the Cuatro de Mayo party we attended Saturday night, and it wasn't Friday night that I realized I had never made queso before.

It took a while to find a recipe that didn't call for Velveeta. If you're really determined to be authentic, use asadero cheese (also called Oaxaca).

I'm happy to say the queso was a huge hit! It's got a slight kick to it, but not so much that you'll be fanning your mouth. There was about 1/4 cup left over from the party, so I put it over rice and beans tonight alongside beef tamales. OHMYYUM.

from Confections of a Foodie Bride

Lola's queso blanco
(I used this recipe for inspiration and then threw in a bunch of other stuff I had on hand.)
makes about 4 cups of queso - perfect amount for a large party!

1 tbsp olive or vegetable oil
1/2 yellow onion, diced
2 serrano chilies, seeds and stem removed, diced
2 jalapeño chilies, seeds and stem removed, diced
24 oz white American cheese, shredded
1 firm tomato, seeds removed, diced
1 can diced green chilies
1 small bunch cilantro, chopped
1/2 pint half and half

optional:

3 tbsp juice from a jar of diced jalapeños
1/2 tbsp lime juice
1/2 tbsp hot sauce

Cook the onion and peppers in the oil until softened. Place all ingredients into a crock pot and turn on low, or heat all ingredients in a large saucepan over medium heat, adding the half and half slowly and stirring until absorbed.