Reflecting on Pain

The one-year anniversary of my son Henry's birth / death is approaching... 5 days away to be exact. Lately, as my heart has begun to heal and my faith has begun to be restored, I have reflected on how painful that experience truly was. I can't eat the Zone bars that I ate daily at the end of my pregnancy, can't eat Tropical Smoothie Cafe (since that was what I ate in the days and weeks following his death), will not listen to songs from last year on the radio, and regret to see reminders all over the place as spring pushes winter away outdoors.

I was in such a state of shock - and defeat - that I went through the spring and summer practically numb. I talked with friends, gave and received hugs, went to Church, read with students, laughed out loud occasionally... but I didn't really enjoy any of it.

I can see that now, as I am finally able to reflect. I hope that one year from now I will be reflecting on joy instead of sorrow.

But don't we all hope for that...?

MWM Turns 30

Each Kick, Every Slumber

Pregnant with my Subsequent Pregnancy After Loss (SPAL) baby, I am aware of every kick, and of every non-kick, that this child makes. It is an awareness that I never thought that I'd need to have.

Sometimes, Isaac sleeps. My heart fills with panic.

"Wake up and move, baby! Please!"

I plead with an unborn child.

Ten weeks to go...

MWM Turns 30

Nothing At All

There are days when we do nothing at all... well, nothing other than laundry, dishes, and the like. These days are wonderful. My husband likes catching up on his television shows. I am able to work on Master's work for hours on end. Daughter plays "school" in between snacks, legos, and dress-up. These are the days that we work all week for, and the reason that we choose to spend them together as a family.

Occasionally, I love doing nothing at all!

MWM Turns 30

Dance Class = Give Me Your Money!

I grew up dancing. I took dance classes from age 3 until I was 20 years old, and I loved everything about it - my tights, my shoes, my friends, the music, the mirrors, learning a new routine, performing on stage, watching others at rehearsal... I can't imagine having lived my life without it.

My daughter - now 3 - is enrolled in her first year of dance lessons. She isn't always jazzed up about wearing her dance clothes, does not always look forward to learning more steps in her routines, and rarely (once a week at most), talks about wearing her costume and dancing on stage. Either she doesn't enjoy it as much as I had hoped that she would, or she is simply too young to connect the dots from week to week. I, am, however, ready to shed some tears or punch some walls in regards to the cost of it all.

Keep in mind that we're talking about a 3 year-old here, but this is what the year is looking like so far:
$45 / month in lessons
$90 / in costumes
$95 / in recital fees
$15 / each additional recital ticket
$30 / in picture fees
$50 / in dance wear - as she grows, the list grows

Part of me hopes that she'll continue to want to dance, but a part of me hopes that she'll choose a less expensive hobby for her free time. I mean, if we're spending ~$1,000 in dance this year, what will spend when she turns 10 and takes more classes, wears more costumes, and competes around the country?!

MWM Turns 30

Tired

Today - this moment actually - I am so tired that I can barely see straight. I am worn down. On top of teaching full-time and raising a toddler, I am experiencing the most emotionally-charged pregnancy that I could have ever imagined for myself. I am now 27 weeks along, and even the most minor periods of inactivity (baby's gotta sleep every now and then!), I absolutely freak out. I go to "that place" and just start praying that God will let me keep this child. Emotionally, this day-to-day ritual takes a toll. I had a "freak-out" yesterday. I had another this afternoon. No pill, no energy bar, no nap can tackle this feeling of utter exhaustion. I pray that one day, after my Isaac arrives and is able to sleep through the night, I will wake up one morning feeling satisfied in my wakefulness.

Weary, but hopeful,

MWM Turns 30