{what happened}

honestly, I don't know. doctor doesn't know, lab technician doesn't know, ultrasound technician doesn't know. but God knows. so, we're trying to accept that as our source of comfort.

but it's hard. yes, we are Christians. yes, we believe in Christ & only Christ. yes, we believe what God says.

 

He will never leave us, nor forsake us.

 He is faithful to those who love him.

He doesn't allow pain without something new being born.

 

my soul has been continually soothed by those verses this weekend.

but there are times when doubt creeps in.

why me God? I love you, I seek you daily (although I fail often), I'm faithful to you. I believe in you. I did everything right. I took my prenatal vitamins, no heavy lifting, little caffeine, no alcohol, etc. so why is this happening?

then the anger comes.

why can sixteen year olds who have nothing to offer an infant carry them to full term? why can people with 3-4 kids already who don't even want them continue to have more? why can mothers on welfare who don't even know their baby daddy continue to have more at my expense? why do those who don't know you, don't love you, seem to have babies with no problem? why God? It's not fair!

but then I realize that's more than anger creeping into my heart. it's also sin. God has a plan for all of those lives. He has one for my life too, it's just different. I shouldn't harbor hatred & resentment towards those mothers. that's hating & resenting God's plan. which is hating & resenting God.

ouch.

so, I'm trying to immerse myself in His word & trust him wholly. even though sometimes it seems very hard, nearly impossible. also, i'm so thankful to be surrounded by family & friends who love me. coworkers who love me. neighbors, church family, facebook friends. every text, every call, every tweet, every verse sent my way reminds me of God's love.

in short, hartmann is truly our miracle. despite every setback, every obstacle, every dashed dream. by the grace of God, he is here & he's healthy & he's such a source of joy. pure joy that boy brings.

we are not giving up. we want another child, we want hartmann to have a sibling. we don't know what that will mean or look like. we know it may be different than what we'd originally planned. my heart is beginning to come to terms with the idea that i may not be able to carry another child. even if the doctor says there's no reason we can't try again, we may choose not to go down that road again. if for nothing else but the sake of my emotional well-being. this miscarriage has been much physically harder & emotionally scarring than the others. so, we know another child may not be brought to the earth through us. it might mean adoption. it might mean pregnancy. we don't know. & for someone who needs to know what's going to happen & when, that's a little scary.

but we know we have options. we know God is not saying "NO", at least not yet. above all else we know

For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11

{say cheese}

who doesn't love professional photos of their kids??

especially when you can win them for.......FREE!! Go check out this great giveaway over at The Link Home to see how you can win a free photo session from Sarah Huffman Photography! My friend Katy, who authors the adorable blog The Link Home, has teamed up with Sarah to offer a FREE mini session {a $100 value} to one of her readers.

This mini session will be a 30 minute shoot

with a CD of 10-12 edited images.

 

Go check it out & say hello to Katy & her cute guy while you're there!

{just one more cookie}

i always find myself getting nostalgic around the holidays. thanksgiving & christmas were done big & right in my family. my mom & two mawmaws made sure of that. ((yes, i'm have two mawmaw's. i'm from the south ya'll))

anywho, the holidays were always big. there were pies, turkeys, & home-made cranberry sauce. there was plenty of football game & parade watching. there was ham, pralines, & mistletoe. there was a big sparkly tree, bedecked with handmade ornaments, reindeer handprints, santas with cottonball beards, & beaded wreaths that served as picture frames which display every bad haircut i ever had as a child. ever.

i remember how i loved when daddy would drag the old familar ornament boxes out of storage. i loved that smell they had when you opened them up. you know the one. it's kinda a mix between evergreen, gingerbread, & elmer's glue. from the aforementioned handmade ornaments. & i remember how we'd go through each ornament like we'd never seen them before. but also like they were long lost friends. & we'd recount the wonderful memories behind each one.

of course, it wasn't perfect. mom would hover nervously, making sure the "good ornaments" didn't get broken. my brother & i would argue over who got to hang what & where. dad would say words over tangled strings of burnt out lights.

but when the tree was done & the cocoa was poured, we'd sit in the living room with the lights off & just look at the tree while the Alabama Christmas tape ((tape!!)) played in the background. & then it really was a silent night. we'd ask for one more cookie. mom would always say yes, even if "one more cookie" was three cookies ago. who cares? it was christmas! we'd flip on the local news, find santa on the radar, & when they'd say he was near our town, we'd race into bed.

i wouldn't trade those memories for the world. those memories became even more precious after my brother died.

now, we're all older. we have more lines on our faces, more fat around our middles, & more things that make us hurried & worried & busy. but as my own little family has formed, i need to remember to slow down. to make holiday memories that my children remember when they are grown. i want my children to have memories so good that it almost hurts to think about them. it's hard when you get married because there's her christmas & his christmas. it's hard to mesh the two into "our christmas".

not to mention how busy you get. you have to go here, you have to go there, you have to visit such & such and so & so. you have church parties, work parties, school parties. there's presents to wrap, cards to mail, pictures to take, etc.

as my son turns 3, i find myself wanting to slow everything down. i literally crave a pause button. in the hustle & bustle of the holidays, i want to make sure that my family doesn't remember the season as a blur, but as a time of being home together. just being.

& of course, saving time for one last cookie.

{stretch marks & soft middle parts}

dear hartmann,

you'll be three soon. tomorrow, actually. it's hard for me to fathom that just three short years ago, the world didn't even know you yet. you are so amazing & smart & full of life that it's impossible to think that three years ago you weren't even here. it's unreal to think that there was ever a time when you didn't exist. i think it's because you've always been inside me, a part of me, i just didn't know it.

three years ago tomorrow, most people were just starting their day. shuffling around, grunting good morning to each other, & filling up their coffee cups. going about their normal morning routines. by that time, i was already breathing through contractions & praying that a doc mcdreamy would appear soon as my knight in shining lab coat & pump me full of drugs. three years ago tomorrow, i was scared, anxious, & excited. i had no idea what i was in for.

when i first saw you, i couldn't even believe you were mine. you were perfect. your head was perfectly round & your skin was so smooth. you were so quiet & calm, with no screaming or anxiety or noise. so unlike your momma. i thought, surely you couldn't be mine. but once they wrapped you up & placed you in my arms & i inhaled your sweet smell like a fresh loaf of bread, i knew you were mine. one look into your big intense eyes & i knew without a doubt you were the one that i had held inside my womb.

i was scheduled to be induced the next day, so i was still just trying to process that all this was actually happening. it wasn't part of the plan. you were supposed to arrive the next day, but here you were, one day early. & you've been doing things your own way, in your own time, ever since. you can't be rushed or scheduled. you calmly, unassumingly entered the world & yet turned it upside down in the most wonderful way possible.

my sweet boy, you make my momma heart so proud. i see so much of myself in you. you feel with 100% of your heart. you are emotional & passionate & impulsive, just like momma. i hope this doesn't get you in trouble like it has me, but i'm sure it will. so just remember, i'm here to help. life will be unfair & you will get your heart broken. but just remember, momma is here. always.

you are so much more than i could have ever imagined. i look at you & wish i was more like you sometimes. you are crazy and free, like the wild rumpus in "Where the Wild Things Are." you're content with a few sheets of paper & a pair of scissors. you remember everything you see & hear. you are brave & fearless & take risks that send you flying from my arms. i find myself simultaneously wanting to set you free & reel you back in.

you're such a big boy. you shun the sippy cup for the full size tumbler. you ask for drinks of my coffee. you want to read non-fiction books about airplanes far more than any picture book. you'd rather watch documentaries on the discovery channel about helicopters than any cartoon. you're such a big boy in fact, that momma has a hard time remembering that you're also just a little boy. you so quickly morph from a big, tough guy into a little boy that needs his momma that sometimes i have a hard time keeping up.

you exhaust me. you entertain me. you amaze me. you exasperate me. you confuse me. you own my heart & you know it.

our life with you is so much fun. it's crazy & busy & loud. & sometimes i fear that we're so busy rushing around that we miss this life around us. so at night, we steal away from this fast, loud world we live in & it's just you & me. you're freshly bathed & in your "jammers" as you call them. it's my favorite part of the day. your sweet, breathy voice says "snuggle me momma, for just a minute." oh my boy. yes. yes i will. always. & we lay there together in the quiet. there are no words. all we can hear is your breathing & my breathing. it's like the entire world melts away. you & i are totally in sync, just like we have been since that first night in the hospital when we laid skin to skin with our hearts beating against each other. it's in these moments that i forget all the tantrums & meltdowns & demands & refusals & juice boxes & fruit snacks & toys everywhere & potty words. it's in these moments, as i lay there staring at you & running my fingers through your wild curls, that i find myself still amazed that you even belong to me. i swear sometimes, if it weren't for my stretch marks & soft middle parts, i wouldn't believe that you actually came out of me. like i'm still waiting for someone to pinch me & wake me up from this too-good-to-be-true dream i've been living in for the past three years.

but you are mine, sweet boy. always & forever. you are the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. you will always be within every fiber of my being.

i love you. unconditionally. i love you. so much it hurts. always, my sweet boy, always.


happy birthday to the sweetest, brightest light in my world.

love, momma

{grief needs words}

i've struggled with writing this post because:

a. i've haven't posted in so long (SO.LONG.)  that it almost seems wrong coming back with a post like this

&

b. it's private & sad & no one even knew so it's kinda a surprise


BUT

i ran across this quote by Shakespeare the other day & hello! slap in the face, nice to see you again

“give sorrow words; the grief that doesn’t speak whispers o’er the fraught heart and bids it break”

so, i kinda feel like i have to write this post. not to make it real & not to seek attention or sympathy, but just because, well, it's life. it was real & it was valid & it was alive. i saw it.

my baby.

a few weeks ago, after wondering for weeks why i was sooooooo tired & why a monthly visitor was suddenly MIA, i did the awkward pee-on-a-stick-but-try-to-avoid-your-hand thing. all while my toddler is asking "What you doin momma?"

there it was. the little blue plus sign. the one that instantly fills our heart with joy & fear at the same time. the one that makes you start picking out names & planning nurseries in your head, all while wanting to nap & puke.

no, we weren't trying. yes, we were very excited. but also cautious. pregnancy has not exactly been my bff in the past. i've had two that weren't meant to be & one that gave me more than i ever imagined. so while very excited, we (at least i) were a little hesitant.

and so it began. the fatigue, the nausea, the hunger. also? checking the toilet paper every.single.time. for anything out of the ordinary. i'm sure some of you other mommas out there know what i mean. one loss will do it to you. paranoia city, right? but for the 1st few weeks, everything was normal.

except then it wasn't.

instantly it hits. fear. worry. pit in your stomach. breathe. google (worst.thing.ever). you read, you feel better. go to the bathroom to check. google. you read something else, you feel worse. step away. breathe. pray. feel at peace. go to the bathroom to check. new thought. worry. fear. anxiety. breathe. wait. go to the bathroom to check. pray. google. worry. pray. go to the bathroom to check. wait.

it goes on and on. so i call the doctor who of course assures me it's probably nothing, which by the way, helps in no way.

more waiting. the morning of my appointment finally comes. as i lay on the table waiting for the doctor, i'm transported back in time a few years. i remember like yesterday the doctor's words "i'm sorry", the nurse's sympathetic look, & the feeling of being underwater. sinking. i blink back tears & pray for a different outcome this time. he finally comes in & the screen flicks on & and i see it.

a tiny little gummy bear shaped thing. i can make out the head & the little tadpole like body. it's there! the doc says he can't find heartbeat but that it's probably too early. but the baby is there! implanted, attached, growing! which is farther than where i got the two times before. i'm wishing there was a heartbeat but just so glad there's a baby. he takes blood, schedules for more blood in 48 hrs, & tells me that at this point, doubling numbers will be the best sign of a healthy pregnancy. he prints off a single frame of the tiny life inside me & hands it to me.

i leave, still a bit worried, but also a bit comforted by the grainy picture i now hold.

fast forward 48 hrs, i go give more blood, then i wait. more waiting. that's the worst part about all this. the never ending waiting.

the call finally comes & all i hear is the "Hun, I'm sorry but......"

you can imagine the rest. i hang up & don't even know what to do. my mind is racing with thoughts. how can this be? i SAW a baby. it's there. but now it's not? it doesn't make sense to me. my 1st two losses were over before they really got started so i never saw a baby. there wasn't anything for me to attach to. but this time, there was. there was a life inside of me. but then there wasn't.

so we grieved. i cried, i prayed, i carefully tucked the 1st & last photo of my little babe into the old bible i keep on a shelf.

then i held my son. i cuddled him close & buried my nose in his blond curls to sniff up some little boy smell. i felt his warmth & weight against me. i thanked God for his life.

so, while i'm still heartbroken, i'm also grateful beyond words for the sweet child i do have. we are not giving up. we still hope for more children someday. but i know that no matter what happens, even if he is the only babe i ever have on earth, i've been so blessed. beyond what i could ever deserve or dream possible.

i needed to write this not to make it real, but because it WAS real. i want my unborn-and-now-with-Jesus child to have a record on this earth. he/she did exist, as a life, & deserves to be honored. you may or may not understand that, but that's ok. i just needed to give words to his/her life & my grief.

i believe that only after you acknowledge your grief, can you begin to heal.

so the healing begins. we will be ok.




Matthew 5:4
"Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

hartmann's mickey celebration

yes, my son's party was a month ago. & yes, i'm just now blogging about it. excuses? well let's see.....


basically? life. crazy, busy, hectic, blah blah blah.

but here it is, better late way late than never. right?




*    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *


the child loves mickey mouse clubhouse. so it was a no-brainer to go with a mickey mouse theme. but not a cheesy, over-the-top, mickey in your face, BAM! kinda way. so i drew on mickey's colors for inspiration: red, turquoise, yellow, and black. pretty much everything you see was made by me, which was so much fun. i seriously would love to plan parties for a living. i just love laboring over every detail because even the smallest ones matter. so enjoy!

i designed his invitation using paint.net, a free program with awesome features!

to greet our guests, i tied strips of red, turquoise, yellow, & mickey mouse fabric to a grapevine wreath & added one of hartmann's mickey toys

took forever! but i love the way it turned out. he loves it so much that i hung it on his bedroom door!

next up, his birthday banner. easy peasy! just scrapbook paper cut into circles with stickers to spell out happy birthday. two felt mickey ears, all strung on twine. so easy & so much cheaper than buying one (& way cuter in my opinion!)

i used some of his vintage mickey toys to finish out the mantle!

the spread! this year, we kept it simple. instead of having an evening party with a dinner, we did an afternoon party with snacks. cheese, meats, & crackers, veggies & dips, & soda.

look at these adorable mickey bowls i found at target. they now serve as popcorn holders for family movie night!

i went the easy route this year in terms of cake. hartmann is not a cake guy, but he loves cupcakes. i totally bought the .98 cent box of funfetti cupcakes & a can of vanilla frosting. because really? what else says childhood better??  i got a inexpensive, plain white cupcake tier at hobby lobby & decorated the edges with ribbon to go with the party theme. topped off the cupcake with mickey mouse ear toppers! (hand cut, one at a time, ouch!)

hartmann unwrapping gifts!

i simply adore the way his shirt turned out. i found a similar one on etsy for $30, but the creative side in me instantly thought "i can do that much cheaper!" plain white T, felt, white buttons, a sewing machine, & about 1/2 hr later.....voila!

the real hit of the party? the candy bar where guests got to make their own treat bag!



this was such a simple idea. various glass jars wrapped in ribbon. filled with rock candy, popcorn, m&ms, white chocolate pretzels rolled in sprinkles, all coordinated to the color theme. guests could scoop out what they wanted into cellophane bags & tie with curly ribbon. perfect & easy!

overall? the party was a huge success. as can be witnessed by my break-dancing son.

{sometimes, even I have no words}

tomorrow is my son's birthday. he's turning two. two. hold me.


i want to go on & on {& on} about how i can't believe it's been two years, how the time has flown, how it seems like only yesterday i was concerned about paci's & swaddle blankets, how he's a little climbing monkey, how he knows his shapes & colors & counts to 20, how he speaks in complete sentences, & just how amazing he is in general.

i want to go on & on in a birthday letter to him about how much i love him, how he's my everything, how i want to turn back the clock & breath in his sweet new smell again, how i will always stick up for him, how i will always support him, how special he is as my firstborn, & how my life is devoted to him.


but i don't have any words for all of that. not right now. maybe i will tomorrow. but for now, all i can do is rock him to sleep & stroke his soft curls. all i can do is kiss his feverish head & listen to his wheezing (because he's sick of course, on his birthday). all i can do tonight is wish him sweet dreams & gently wipe a tear away as i close his door & back out of his room.

i truly have no words for how i feel right now.



because two years ago, he was this: