Blogging Break and Family Time

Sorry for the long break, all. Every June my folks come out for their annual visit. This household has enjoyed almost 2 blissful weeks of visiting, playing with/chasing KB, date nights, swim lessons, wagon rides, and my getting to do errands by myself. Once things calm down, posts will resume as normal. 

When your family lives thousands of miles away, visits are precious and sacred. :) 

Happy Friday!

Quick Takes Friday

1.  Before I get into the promised "lighter" posts, I wanted to share 2 recent articles on the blogosphere.  What makes them unique is that the authors are both guys and the topic covers infertility.  My brother wrote this post reflecting on the Joyful Mysteries of the Rosary relating to IF.  A doctor of theology at Notre Dame penned this post about his experiences with IF.

2.  A family of cardinals has moved to our yard.  They are my favorite birds; I never saw them until moving to the Midwest.  The male cardinal's red plumed feathers are particularly attractive.  I've named the dad Carlos the Cardinal (yeah, I love alliteration).  He often feeds food to his chicks. I try to leave bread for them, but often the chipmunks or blackbirds get it.

3.  Some friends and I made a spiritual bouquet for a friend going through a rough time.  Some blogger friends offered prayers too; thank you!  Here's how the bouquet turned out:

4.  I've become a Pinterest addict!  Yikes!  One of the many benefits has been the discovery of new recipes.  Of all the ones tried in my kitchen so far, this recipe for crock pot chicken tacos is my favorite.  Three ingredients plus a slow cooker equals my kind of recipe!! If you try this recipe, be sure to use frozen chicken  (not thawed! it will dry out!) and LOW SODIUM taco seasoning. 

5.  This past weekend we went to Nebraska for the baptism of our godson.  I have 3 college friends (hi, Marisa) and 2 former youth group teens who live there.  We had such fun catching up with friends and seeing the NE countryside.  The weather was hot and humid, as my bushy hair can attest.  I even discovered a delectable new drink: the Carmelicious Latte by Scoo.ters Coffee.   

6.  KB did great on the plane ride to NE.  She's becoming quite the traveler.  As the only child in a family with half of its relatives on the West Coast, she has to learn to tolerate airplanes by necessity.  We even discovered that Chicago O'Hare has an indoor children's play area.  That sure made the layover better, if not relaxing.  Maybe I won't loathe that airport as much as in the past.

7.  Since February, I have lost 16.5 lbs.  It's made quite a difference in my health and wardrobe.  :)

Have a great weekend!

Remembering Rachel

Two days after we lost Rachel, 3 prayer cards with this image arrived in the mail.  Talk about a welcome sign from heaven:

Following the advice found in After Miscarriage, I put together an album to commemorate Rachel's little life.  Since we lost her so early and have nothing like a grave, hospital bracelet, etc. to put in a memory box, the album suffices.  I inserted all of the cards and notes we received from family and friends, as well as significant dates (positive test, etc.), and the listing of Rachel's memorial Mass from our parish bulletin.  The album will always help us remember Rachel's brief life, and hopefully KB and (hopefully) future siblings to know their sister in heaven.

This past Saturday we had a small memorial Mass for Rachel at our parish.  To our pleasant surprise, many of our friends and family came to the morning Mass (yeah, 8:15 am on a Saturday morning isn't always fun!).  On the West Coast, my brother, sister-in-law, and parents went to a morning Mass there to commemorate Rachel.  Our pastor kindly incorporated prayers from a funeral for a miscarried baby.  He even talked about Rachel in his homily.  The petitions also prayed for couples still waiting for a baby and those who had lost children.

To add even more Providence/wonder, the deacon present at Mass was there to commemorate his daughter, who was murdered in May 1999.  The Mass was supposed to have taken place the previous Monday, but he and his wife forgot and ended up at our Mass.  So there we were, remembering two daughters in heaven.  WOW. 

My friend K, who came to the Mass with her family, penned a touching post recounting the Mass and why we take the time to remember babies who have gone to heaven.  I'm so glad that I read her post without any mascara on. :)

My husband and I feel so blessed to have family and good friends who have consoled us during our ordeal and shown such love!  And thanks to the kind souls in the blogosphere who have been praying for us too. 

P.S.  With the last 3 rather heavy posts, a lighter side post is definitely in order!  

The Next Step

Wow.  I was so touched at the comments in my previous post.  Karen has indeed written an incredible book, and I'm elated to see it touched other readers too.

I've had this post floating in my head for a couple weeks, but could never get to the computer to actually compose it.  And as always, life gets in the way too.  How's that for slacking?

Rachel's memorial Mass will take place this Saturday morning.  I'm looking forward to it but also dreading the emotions that may come up.  Thanks to my friend K, we found a special Blessing for Parents Who Have Just Suffered a Miscarriage that my pastor will pray over us at the end of Mass.  Several family and friends have promised to attend the Mass; I am humbled at their willingness to remember Rachel's brief life.

Lately there have been several friends who have announced pregnancies.  I'm very happy for them, but that all familiar twinge of "why can't that be me?" returned with a vengeance.  The especially hard ones are the friends/acquaintances whose babies will come in November, when Rachel would have been born.  Thankfully, a dear friend of mine assured me these feelings are normal. She herself still mourns her miscarried babies from 15 years ago.

A lot of people have asked us (to quote the song from the musical E.vita), "So what happens now?"  Both my OB and NaPro physicians suggested waiting out the miscarriage cycle (similar to a post partum cycle) plus one regular cycle before we can TTC again.  Most critical is giving my body a full cycle to absorb the HCG and stabilize my hormones.

I'm also attempting to lose weight, as my baby weight from the first pregnancy never really came off.  This program has helped me a great deal.  Additionally, we credit my weight loss in 2010 (to meet an adoption BMI requirement) with playing a role in conceiving KB.  Besides, if I'm able to get pregnant again, I want to start with as few pounds as possible.

In any case, we will not assume anything and try to trust in God's plan.  Easier said than done!

KB turned 18 months last week; we can scarcely fathom she is halfway to 2!  Apparently, neither can she:
:)

After Miscarriage: a worthwhile read

Another post, another post gap.  Normally I would observe such a chasm with self-deprecating humor or excuses.  However, small waves of grief have unexpectedly come forth as the miscarriage aftermath fades away.  Added to that was witnessing our neighbors mourn the death of their 20-year-old daughter in a car accident two weeks ago.  She would have survived had she worn a seat belt.  I will never forget the face of the grieving mother, looking imploringly at KB as we left her house, who said, "Promise me you will always wear your seat belt."  Through teary eyes I assured her that we will always remind KB (it's a non-negotiable anyway).

I wrote the previous post thinking the miscarriage grief had passed.  To my great surprise, I was mistaken.  Without warning, waves of sadness came out of nowhere: a movie with a newborn baby, looking at newborn baby clothes, realizing that we wouldn't have a baby in November...these little things just added up. Thankfully, a couple girlfriends who have had miscarriages assured me my feelings were normal.  No need to call in the men in the white coats! Ha.

As Providence would have it, a recently published book has helped me tremendously: it's called After Miscarriage: A Catholic Woman's Companion to Healing and Hope.

Karen Edmisten's book strikes a very good balance for grieving mothers: she doesn't dwell on the sorrow to the point of despair, yet she also doesn't linger on the "your baby is in heaven" to the point of forced giddyness.  A very difficult balance to obtain.  My grief feels very raw, very real.  Through Karen's stories (she endured 5 miscarriages) and the stories shared by others (moms, a father, a single mom...) I find affirmation in my grief yet also some hope to which to hold fast. The book also offers practical advice about burying the remains, holding a memorial Mass, grieving, etc. 

I'm a huge fan of my Kind.le, but this book works best in its natural, hard copy form.  The pages need  highlighting and folded corners.  I hope to purchase copies for some priest friends of mine, so they have an idea of what to say to a couple after miscarriage or a failed adoption. 

The passage that struck me the most: 

"And eventually a picture came to my mind.  I was weeping, and Jesus approached me, held me, a bloody, wounded hand on my hair, a strong arm around me.  He said that he would not tell me why but that he knew  what I felt."

I can very much relate to that image, and I think it also relates to the struggle with infertility/miscarriage.  Wanting something/someone good.  Watching pregnant teens who didn't want to be pregnant.  Surrounded by families.  Walking by the baby clothes, knowing what you had hoped will be there in 9 months will not.

Jesus will not tell us why, but He will comfort us.  And many times, His comfort comes in the forms of family, friends, bloggers, a kind word, cupcakes, or a book published at exactly the right time. 

By the way, after all of these heavy posts, a lighter one is in order. Stay tuned.  

Padded Anvils and Prayer Buddy Reveal

Padded anvils? Huh?  Yep, it's another random metaphor courtesy of me.  Bear with me.  And for those of you young whippersnappers who did not grow up with Lo.oney Tu.nes, anvils often fell randomly from the sky onto unsuspecting characters.

I am still very touched at the kind comments, support, and prayers in response to our miscarriage.  Thank you, blogosphere, for the virtual hugs.  Our friends and family have stepped forward to pray and support us as well.  Two friends even left cupcakes on my doorstep! Our mantle is full of cards from friends, assuring prayers and support.

So what about the padded anvil?  Well, as the cliche goes, "Stuff" happens (insert your own moniker for "stuff") to all of us.  Many times the painful situation, illness, IF, etc. just falls out of the sky.  Our miscarriage felt like that: out of nowhere, exciting news turned to immense sorrow. And those two weeks of doctor appointments, ultrasounds, and most horrendous of all, not knowing if our baby was alive or dead, felt like one BIG random anvil.  And we felt rather crushed.

Frequently people will say, "all I can do is pray."  Well, I can attest that prayer made a huge difference.  I have found the prayers and support of family and friends have padded this anvil, lessening its blow.  Yes, the sorrow was ever present, but it did not destroy us.  Surprisingly, I have not been angry at God, unlike in calamities past, just very sad.  Many coincidences (Divine Providence) happened too.  And every card, text, email, comment, cupcake (oh, so delicious!), helped us go on further.

Without the prayers and kindness of our loved ones, our anvil would have hit much harder.  I'm grateful that the news accidentally got out on fa.cebook instead of me staying silent.  Thanks especially to those of you who have prayed for us behind the scenes.

For Lenten Prayer Buddies, I prayed for J at Growing the Garcia Family. I enjoyed reading her "small successes" posts!  My prayer buddy was none other than K of All You Who Hope.  Her prayers and support touched me deeply, particularly as hers was the first IF blog I read during my IF journey.

My friend K sent me a profound reflection on miscarriage as well as blessing of a couple who has just endured one.  We may try to have this blessing said at Rachel's memorial Mass next month.

Be blessed as the season of Easter continues. :)

One More Soul in Heaven

By far, this post will be the most gut-wrenching one I have ever written.  However, I have learned so much from other bloggers' sorrow and struggles through such posts, so perhaps the same will happen.  In the past few days, I have become more comfortable telling the world of our ordeal. 

In the middle of March, I had a positive pregnancy test.  My NaPro doctor put me on progesterone immediately, just like my previous pregnancy.  I took a blood test 3 days later.  Surprise and joy turned to sorrow when my doctor called to tell me I would miscarry very soon.  His voice on the phone was sad, yet compassionate.

My husband and I wanted closure, not wanting to wait for bleeding.  The NaPro doctor gave me a timeline for which to watch for bleeding, then to follow up with my OB.  For the next 2 weeks, I had four blood tests (mostly for HCG) and two ultrasounds.  My OB, who herself has biological and adopted children, compassionately tried to look for a miracle.  Both ultrasounds yielded no clear picture or heartbeat.  We found out towards the end of our ordeal that she also was concerned about an ec.topic pregnancy.  Thankfully, that's not a possibility:  not long after my last ultrasound, I started to bleed.  My OB is still monitoring me via blood tests (oh yeah, my favorite) to make sure the HCG numbers drop.

So we experienced the heartbreak that many bloggers and friends have tread before us: several appointments that started in an OB waiting room, looking at pregnant women (not that I was jealous, just knowing what could have been).  Going to the ultrasound, knowing the outcome would be good.  Waiting in the tiny patient room, wondering about outcomes and frustrated when answers weren't clear right away.  And of course, the constant question: WHY?

Once our situation became clear, I posted a prayer request in a girls' prayer group on Facebook.  Little did I know that my petition would post to other's news feeds.  So the word got out fast...and it was surprisingly liberating.  We have literally been surrounded in prayer as the days unfold. I've especially needed it, as chasing a 16-month-old while processing grief is not the easiest task. 

We decided to name our baby, to help us have closure.   My friend Kerri, who herself has three children in heaven, penned a profound post about why we name our miscarried children (thanks for saving me the work of explaining it too!) My miscarriage also coincided with Kerri's first miscarriage 4 years ago.  Her boldness in speaking and writing about her children and heaven has really inspired me. For some reason, my husband and I both felt our baby was a girl.  Even though she lived in my womb for a few weeks, she is a little soul in heaven. She is still a person!  

Our little saint's name is: Rachel Philomena.

My husband felt drawn to the name Rachel (she's depicted in the above sculpture).  It reminded him of Jeremiah 31:15:

"Thus says the LORD:  In Ramah is heard the sound of sobbing, bitter weeping! Rachel mourns for her children, she refuses to be consoled for her children—they are no more!"

I picked the name Philomena, which means "full of light."  St. Philom.ena was a young girl martyred in Roman times at age 13 (according to legend).  She is credited with interceding for many, many miracles.

As deep and heartbreaking as this sorrowful path has been, I am grateful to have suffered this miscarriage after our daughter was born.  She's a great distraction!  However, the biggest reason is that I tend towards pessimism and would not have reacted well to this during infertility.  Our miscarriage experience has helped us feel solidarity with two dear friends who recently suffered failed adoptions.

We plan to have a Mass to remember Rachel's brief life.  Thanks to fellow coffee lover Chasing Joy, I found out about the Church of the Holy Innocents, which has a shrine dedicated to children who died in the womb.  Parents can send in the names of their children to be inscribed in the "book of life."  

I'm grateful that we do not have to bear this heavy cross alone. 

Please feel free to ask my Rachel to pray for your intentions.  :)