Tuesday, December 28, 2010


I searched and searched today for a tiny little heartbeat on my home doppler. Thinking things were over, I was just about to stop when I heard the unmistakable beat.

10 weeks and a heartbeat?

I know there are miles to go, but it's so, so weird. Last time things were over by 8 weeks. The time before, 9. The time before that, 5 weeks. There was NEVER a normal heartbeat since Asher.

I KNOW how to do "there's no heartbeat," "things are measuring behind", "this baby doesn't look so good."

What I'm not very good at is, "Listen to that heartbeat. It sounds normal."

I mean, can ya blame me?

I'm still shocked I found a heartbeat.

Thursday, December 23, 2010


I vomit alot these days. Like, all the time.

It was a little while ago that the pregnancy test stick turned pink and I laughed at the sky. Really God? One tube? Factor V Leiden? MTHFR? On the day we are supposed to sign papers for foster/adopt?

"Yes," God said, in that wonderfully reverberating James Earl Jones voice, "you're back on the crazy pregnancy train. Nice job using birth control, Rach." *wink*

A week and a half ago I got to see the embryo, and my friend Dawn joined me at the ultrasound. I felt like I was going to throw up, but she made me eat a "good luck Donut" she had bought at Quick Trip, anyway.

We walked into the room, and I started talking mumbo jumbo. I grabbed the donut, then put it back in my purse, then took my pants off, then grabbed the donut out of my purse again.

Dawn took the donut and held my elbow, and we waited.

"Well, measuring 8 weeks...exactly..." the tech said.

"Yeah, but heartbeat looks slow," I say, wondering if the pharmacy will be open when we're done so I can fill the Cytotec prescription and get on with the miscarriage.

"Actually, it's 154, that's normal."

"No, I was counting it, and it looks to be about 20 beats a minute."

"Rachel - she's the professional...if she says it's OK, it's OK!" Dawn says. (Dawn lost her son at 31 weeks about a year ago, so I guess I can trust her.)

"Ok," I say, still staring at the screen.

We walk into the waiting room, I look at her.

She says, "You don't believe that, do you."

"No, I really don't."

"Well, that is what a good ultrasound feels like."

"I forgot."

I had forgotten.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

theology on the radio

So, Lulu and I were driving along in the car, and that blasted "Christmas shoes" song came on. That song is nothing but trouble.

Soon, her squeaky little voice pipes up:

"Mama? Why does that kid's mom need shoes?"

"Because his mom is sick and she needs them to feel better."

"But if she's going to meet JEsus that means she's praying, or dying?"

"Well, it means she's probably going to die."

"Why would she need shoes then?"

"I'm not sure, honey...this is why I don't like this song."

"So it's a bad song and we shouldn't be listening to it, kind of like no Cartoon Network?"

"No, it's not a bad song like bad shows on tv, but it's just annoying because it doesn't make any sense."

"Why does the mom need shoes if she's going to meet Jesus and we won't need our bodies in heaven?"

***my mouth hanging open***
"Well, that's another reason I don't like the song...that doesn't make sense, does it."

"No. The Bible says we will have a new body in heaven so I don't think she cares about shoes."

"Yep, Lu, you're absolutely right. Maybe it would just help the kid to feel better knowing his mom died in pretty shoes."

"Well, couldn't he just put them on his mom's grave? Like, next to her gravestone?"
"I suppose he could...but maybe the song wouldn't be as good, because then his mom wouldn't get to wear them before she died."

"How will her soul get out of her body? Will a man peel her skin off?"

"No, your soul isn't something you can see...it's who you are without your body. Your soul is what really matters. Your soul is what's left of you when the rest of your body is gone...the thing that makes you think, and feel, and believe in God or not."

"So it will go to heaven by itself?"

"I think it goes out of the body maybe sort of invisibly."  (<----me winging it.)


"When can I get baptized? I want to be baptized like Ella was baptized."

(Ella was baptized a year and a half ago. I had no clue she even remembered.)

"Ok, being baptized is a sign of your belief that you are a sinner and God sent Jesus to save you. But you don't have to be baptized to go to heaven. So you don't have to worry. If you believe, God knows."

She sits quietly, picking her lip and thinking.

I silently curse the Christmas shoes song, and wonder what else goes through her mind that I never hear.

Later, Scott and I debate the merit of the Christmas shoes song. He claims it's nothing more than a sweet song about a little kid wanting shoes for his dying mother, but I call it


Monday, December 6, 2010

almost there

I am the best kind of procrastinator there is. Our licensing appointment is in two days, and I still need to get:

baby gates installed
emergency numbers posted above the phone
emergency exit route posted on every level
all medicine in a locked box
lock to our attic

I guess there isn't that much stuff to do. It's just that, well, Asher and I are sick, and this stuff is the last stuff I feel like doing.



Friday, December 3, 2010

internet dates

Do you know why I love writing?

I love writing, especially in this forum, because I can meet people going through similar things. As much "bad" as there is about the internet, there's an awfully lot of good, too. Sure, we get porn, people addicted to Twitter and Facebook (and lots of extramarital affairs starting that way), people making friends online and neglecting their real life ones, etc., etc., but there is alot of good, too:

1. The day of Lucy's diagnosis of  omphalocele in utero, we were able to find a group online that gave us hope for her survival, even after the doctor gave us none.

2. My life was saved after she was born and needed the colostomy, when I was able to create an online group of moms with kids with colostomies. You wouldn't believe all of the information we've shared with each other.

3. Reading other blogs, I've realized that I am definitely not alone in all the loss we've gone through in the past few years. You can't walk into Target and see, "4 miscarriages in a 12 month period" emblazoned on someone's head, but you can get that information right away from someone online. And the sense of community there is huge.

4. match.com. I met Scott on match.com. Oh wait, actually, I didn't. I met some other freaks there and actually went on a date with one guy and ended up alone with him in his basement and he said, "Hey, I could do anything I wanted to you and no one would ever know!"

that actually ended my internet dating. Oh, and the guy before him who met me in the Kohl's parking lot. He was driving a yellow camaro and had wife beater shirts as seat covers. We were going to meet and then go to a Bruce Willis concert. I drove off after I saw him. Yes, I was shallow at age 19.

then there was the military guy who brought me a potted plant as a love token the first time we met,

the guy i met at the mall who asked if i would like to come to see his grandma's fun house (!?) was that code for something? still don't have a clue...i had to call my friend and have her pretend like there was an emergency i had to leave for...he totally didn't buy it.

then there was the guy who was really dark and everything he talked about had to do with death...and killing...and dying...

then there was my first kiss, the guy who licked my face repeatedly, like a newborn Dachsund...it was really disappointing...you wait 19 years for THAT?!

you know, I'm beginning to feel like this digression deserves its own post. Stay tuned.

where was I: oh yes, fostser adopt....things we still must think about...

netting for the railing by our garage stairs
all medicine in a lock box
emergency numbers posted by the phone
escape routes posted on every level
the dimensions of the windows in asher's room

I think that's it.

That's how close we are....


Here is the Dayspring post I talked about months ago:

Post soon on what we have to do before we can become licensed foster parents. Asher is sitting next to me with green snot sliming from his nose into his mouth. He just licked it and then ate a Goldfish.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


I've been reading Jerry Sittser's book on loss, "A Grace Disguised".

What an amazing book.

So many times I've felt like I'm grieving too much over the pregnancy losses, or that people will get tired of my writing about it. But in this book, Jerry talks about how working through these things is so much healthier than burying it all in a box and stuffing it to the back of the closet. When you're authentic in your grief, you can be authentic in your joy, too.

So in a way, I guess reading this book has made me look back and realize all that has changed in my life because of the pregnancy losses, not in spite of them. Here's a list:

1. More appreciation for the children and husband and extended family I have.
2. Greater understanding of the losses of others - more compassion.
3. A longing for heaven I can't quite articulate.
4. Hope for the future...I know that God is redeeming all of it, even as we speak. Right now, all I see is the back of the tapestry.

Jerry lost his mother, wife and 4 year old daughter in a car accident nearly 20 years ago. They all died right in front of his eyes. But through their deaths, he found a new life. A different life than the one he thought he should have, but new all the same. He doesn't apologize for it.

Sometimes, grief has you carving out paths you never would have taken otherwise.

And that's OK.