RAWR

 This is King Jeffrey They let me out of my cage.......
Hmmmmm whut to do to my sweet lil lindsay :)
 hehehehehe
I love her

To all my wonderful friends...

 Like I said in my previous post, people have been unable to comment on my blog. As all of you know, October is when I lost Zoe and I was unable to recieve much support this year. I would appreciate it if those of you who may have tried to comment on my posts at that time, could please try an re-post them. It would really mean a lot to me. I spent some time being upset and believing that most of you just didn't care anymore. Now I know that in fact, some of you may not have been able to comment at all. Love you guys (you know who you are)

xo

Comment problem fixed

Comment away. I had no idea no one could leave comments till Petra brought it to my attention. I don't know what was wrong, but I think it's fixed. :)

overflow...

I am falling...

I lit them for all of us...

I lit a candle outside. I lit a candle near Zoe's picture. I lit a candle by us on Zoe's memory chest. I lit them for Zoe and for all of your sweet babies too.
 I hate the circumstances that brought us together, but I'm so glad to have some of you (you know who you are) on this crazy ride with me.....xo

*sigh

Daughter off to visit dead sister. Mom stays home cause she hates to go. She hates to go, cause she feels unworthy. She feels unworthy because somewhere inside her, she still believes she killed her...

Tomorrow...

You would have been celebrating your third birthday. I miss you so much and love you more....your mama

What's been going on...in pictures.

A little low...and random thoughts...

I wasn't really with Zoe's father when she was born (or cut quickly out of me, whatever) and I was afraid to see him for hours after it happened and I was lost and sad and had just had a baby and had no idea what form my life would take from that day forward. I never had a partner to grieve with (not saying her father didn't grieve) together. I went home to Ivy and tried to pick my old life off of the floor and shine it up and do my best for Ivy. It was hard. She was the kid at school whose baby sister died. I was the woman whose body gave out on her and her child and it killed her.

 Since her death, I suffer this alone (well, with my mother) and Kenny never got it and the awesome new guy I've been tries harder than most to 'get it'. It's lonely though, a different kind of lonely. It's like you had this whole god-awful experience that still brings tears to your eyes and makes you act like a bitch once a year, but everyone just thinks you're that crazy dead-baby lady.

 I snapped last night and said something ugly and was completely unaware I had hurt new guy's (someone I'll introduce you to soon enough) feelings.

 Let's back up a minute:
 Some of the events of Zoe's life are confusing or out of order in my mind. Anyway, I missed my baby terribly while I was in bed recovering from all of the blood-loss and she was being cared for in the N.I.C.U. and either I picked out a soft lamb, or my mom brought it up to me from the gift shop, either was, it was my surrogate Zoe, and hugging it tight and sending thoughts of 'live baby girl, please live' was the only way I could drift off.
 I have since strapped her hospital bracelet around the lambs wrist and set it in Aidyn's crib. He'll wrap his arms around it when he's on his side, and drift off to sleep.

 Last night, I went to bed alone. I was exhausted. I grabbed the lamb and found Dragonfly on Netflix. Just a warning, that movie WILL make you cry your eyes out. I turned away from the computer and just lay on my tummy holding the lamb. I pulled it up under my neck and all of the tears I haven't cried came pouring out. I could suddenly remember in detail, the feelings I had while holding that lamb up under my neck. The praying, wishing, hoping that I could rewind time, that I could fix this, that God would intervene and stop this.

 I haven't been able to access my feelings about my stay in the hospital, only Zoe's last two weeks there. I ignored that I was cut from my pubic bone to my belly button and walked for her and left bloody footprints on the floor, walked to see her. Held her even though it hurt. I think I believed I deserved the pain when I looked at her little body lying there still being kept alive by bleeping machines and tubes. They said she was never in pain. My mother's intuition didn't and still doesn't believe that.

 I know these feelings are coming around because the end of September is coming and then the three weeks that I can't think straight between then and October 17th. I feel like my statute of limitations to grieve over her is over (as far as anyone wanting to hear about it at least) and I'm not ready.

 I woke up again after trying so hard to fall asleep and noticed something was edgy about new guy's attitude. That's when I found out about my ugliness, and apologized. Then I went in Aidyn's room where he was sleeping and put my hand on his back to feel him breathe. I thanked God that he made it. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to pretend I was touching her, just for a second, then I took a bath and cried. There was no sympathy for me, as I had been such a bitch. I was alone in this grief, which is what I was used to. Honestly, for about a year, I've tried not to think of her in depth, in painful detail. She's gone and not coming back and that's it, I tell myself. It's how I cope with other things as well, but last night I thought about the boy with the dead big sister. Miss Ivy who will never grow up with a sister, even though she has had one. I think about me as well. It's hard with two kids, and would have been harder with three, but I would have done it. I would have done it like everything else in my life I've decided I was going to do.

They remembered...

My grandmother died a little over a month ago. I went to say goodbye to her. She looked like she had become one with the mattress she was laying on. I could see her heart beat in every vein in her body. She moved, tried to come toward my voice when I walked in the room. I told her everything I've ever wanted to say to her. I cried on her. I told her to hold my girl for me, to tell her how much her mommy loves her and misses her. I told her she was the greatest woman I ever knew. That was the last time she moved at all.
 I only focused on getting through the visitation and funeral. They didn't cover up Zoe's grave to bury her like I was so scared of.
 My uncle stopped me outside of the church, after I had gone to visit Zoe in the cemetery and see my grandmother actually in the ground, and told me that she had waited for me. He told me she never moved again, that she was waiting for my goodbye. I don't know about all that but he and my grandfather believe it.
 In the midst of all these anxiety invoking services over the course of two days, I never peeked at her obituary. When I finally decided to, I noticed that it reads, "Faye was preceded in death by, her first husband, parents, a brother, a grandson and great grand-daughter". I never saw that.
 This part of my family, that ignores everything, or at best will sweep an uncomfortable subject under the rug, remembered her. It took days to notice, but they remembered her. They included her. This same group, who left Zoe's name off of a huge family tree decoration at a family reunion (I took a piece of construction paper and a sharpie and added it in anyway), remembered to include my girl. They acknowledged that she once was. To me, she still is.
It's September. Almost three years since she was born.

(Thinking of Ciaran too, Bir)

I'm back!

New , more detailed post later, but just a quick drop in to say I'm back. (I love you Petra!) and Kenny and I are over, over, over. One more time..OVER..
Thanks for hanging in there. I miss you guys. Leave me a comment just to say hey, and tell me you missed me as much as I missed you...

The view over here..where I'm standing..

I've always had an intense urge and I've been creating since I could put pencil to paper. I've had a nagging need in the last few weeks to evaluate my life, what I wanted from it, why I was put here, that deep shit we all do when we know things cannot stay the same anymore. I closed my eyes and imagined the different paths and lived in them for a moment and judged each possibility by how it made my soul react. I was meant to create. It is what I feel comfortable saying I was put here to do.
 I have tattooed in the past to pay bills, but it's not my favorite thing to do, especially designs that are straight off of the flash wall.There was no creative release in it for me, and it felt technical, like tracing and coloring, like in a coloring book. I only loved to tattoo my drawings, my ideas, the sessions where they say what they want and I draw a picture over and it over till they like and get it.
 I've been painting again and it feels amazing. Painting is the main reason you guys aren't hearing from me as much, more so than Aidyn (He's a very easy baby). I have more ideas than canvases and I'm planning to do shows again, but I'm thinking of giving myself a larger radius and try to show in Baton Rouge or New Orleans. Louisiana needs art. Our state needs the benefits, the documentation, that artists give us to validate and record our continuing struggles.  I've decided on a series, of my favorite animals in the Gulf. If you know me or have read this blog for a while you would know that I love the Gulf, I love to catch sharks and huge fish. I love the porpoises and the sea turtles that swim across from us on their merry ways. I need to document the sad reality for so many of these animals (I certainly won't have deep-sea fishing adventures with my dad to distract me) and  I want to try to get a show in one of our our bigger cities. This is what I have been focusing on and trying to get ready for, yet struggling with money for now that I'm paying all the bills myself, there's not tons left over.
 So, I get a call from a number I don't recognize Monday night. It was a boutique style, supposedly classy little tattoo shop, looking for a nicely tattooed female artist to compliment their cosmetic tattooing business (Clients come in to have their lipliner put on permanantly and decide to get a heart on their big toe, before they go on their cruise). I've heard the shop more resembles a hair salon and many clients have been asking about getting  little tattoos done. They told me I could do appointment only, and/or I could choose three, six hour day shifts every week. She discourages flash and has none in her store, which makes me happy. Oh, and she pays cash, that day when you leave, so no waiting for a check and her rates are generous.
 You see where this is going. I may be looking at  having extra money to enjoy with my kids without exchanging the ability to be with my kids most days for most of the day. Oh, and I may could save a bit of cash to take a trip down south and TRY to get close to, see with my own eyes and photograph the subjects of my new paintings. I think the experience will motivate me further and help me express it better on canvas.
 Usually things that seem to be too good to be true, are (Like this whole out-of-nowhere tattooing in a nice shop for a decent rate when I happen to be flat broke thing I got going on). Cross your fingers that some strange irony is occurring here to alter my current brooding and grey attitude into a more light and beautiful one.



 and I'm sorry I've been M.I.A...xo

Once..

I know..

I expected this, what you are doing.



This business of moving on and satisfaction.



Nothing is as intense, life nor death, nor the greys that cover,



Everything in layers of light and dark and brighter and darker still.



At night I am a ghost, in a world of real and gone.



Clawing through layers of guilt and longing, past and imagined.



In the day, I am a mouse,



When compared to my old lion self.



I am small, and silent, and out of style.



Cage unlatched, and I, too tame for desire now.



I understand the loss, of a stone, beaten into sand.



Forced obedience and the curse of knowledge manifested in me.



Fate's errand child, unfulfilled, lacking,



Giving, sloughing off my needs,



Becoming bitter, brittle



you flourish...



I?...so you're welcome

Finding me...

I'm working on getting the old me back. I finished the mobile (pictures coming Catherine :) and a vase full of vellum paper flowers to match my room. Next week it's back to painting.
 I signed up with a casting company to be an extra, or to be able to audition for small speaking parts. It'll be fun and will bring in a bit of extra money.
 I didn't realize that I spent my pregnancy in a strange guarded, depressed frame of mind and I'm just slowly peeking out of my shell and feeling alright about it.

It happened to me after all...

I guess I sort of never felt like it would pertain to me. The whole idea that when a new child is born after you lose one, it brings with it all sorts of emotions about your sweet lost baby and takes you places in the not-so-distant-past that had seemed to be losing a little of their sting.
 When Aidyn first came home, he would crack his eyes halfway open (I only ever saw Zoe's eyes opened halfway) and I would want him to open them wide, to remind me that he is well and healthy. 
 Now, when he cracks those eyes half open when he is deep asleep, I look. I see her more clearly in my mind. I can see that he resembles her a little bit, which I can't see when his eyes are open, as I have no memories of her with hers open.
 I often see him and feel utter joy while at the same time feel an ache in my soul for what I was robbed of with Zoe. I can see it in color and real time. It's a strange duality.
 I constantly check in on his breathing, and like in my womb when I would suddenly wonder if he was ok,   and he'd give me a gentle nudge as if to say, "It's ok mom", he now gives me a little wiggle, a curl of his tiny fist that says "I'm okay, I'm breathing and happy and fine".
 It's sad and beautiful at the same time, that I don't get the normal, 'new baby experience' and that I certainly didn't get what I had dreamed of for the 'new-baby-after-loss-hospital-experience'. I didn't receive a single flower and the N.I.C.U. held my baby hostage as I struggled with the similarities between his birth and Zoe's, but I did finally get this precious boy out of the N.I.C.U. and now he is here with me.
 I  never expected these emotions I had heard so much about. Somehow, I suppose because I grieve so differently than most in this journey, these feelings snuck up on me. Now, a girl who rarely cries, and rarely slows down, is in tears part of the day and feeling a bit shocked and overwhelmed to be feeling this now while I'm too busy to properly lick my wounds...

I'll be back..

Part of my life is beautiful and perfect right now. Aidyn is growing and doing well. Ivy is in love with her new brother and just passed her test for the Gifted program at school. I am in awe of them both and so blessed.
 Things with Aidyn's dad are not good and becoming worse. It's hard to deal with it while I have so many postpartum hormones surging through me and so little sleep as I am the primary caretaker for both of my children.
 I have been staying up late at night crafting and watching my favorite t.v. shows online in between feeding and changing Aidyn and getting up with Ivy for school. I try to create a distance from the growing issues between Kenny and I. I've made many beautiful things lately in an effort to distract myself from the disrespect and invalidation I receive from the man I made this child with. I thought things would get better between us once Aidyn was here and he realized what I went through during pregnancy and the birth and the extended stay at the hospital. It's made no difference. It may have made it worse.
 I haven't written here as I'm afraid to sound ungrateful in the wake of getting what so many are longing for; a healthy, living child. I am in love with my children, no doubt about it. I am just tired of the fight with Kenny and I'm waiting for it to be over.
 I'll be back. I just have lots going on and lots of decisions to make and I'm exhausted.
I miss you guys. xoxo

Two weeks

He's been here for two beautiful weeks. I love this boy so much it hurts....

I'd like you to 'meet' my son...

Home..

 We are at home. Little Aidyn was born on April 15th at 8:05a.m. at 6lbs 10oz. He went straight to the N.I.C.U. due to some difficulty breathing. He was fine after that first day but because they didn't let him eat for a while, they needed to make sure he had no problems feeding. He did amazingly well and they let us go late yesterday which was a bit earlier than they expected. He's a strong little boy who was determined to get out of there with his mommy. We were in the hospital for six days. The surgery did not go well for me. I will post pictures and write about his birth a bit later.
 Just wanted to let all who were interested know that he is beautiful and healthy and HOME!

Depressed mommy..

I'm in the hospital and Aidyn is still in the N.I.C.U. He had some issues adjusting when he first got here. I'm having a hard time coping without him. I didn't hold him until late at night the day he was born. I can't sleep and I wake up sad, and the nurses don't understand my compulsion to be near him as much as I can. He is so precious. He is taking a small amount of formula in a bottle that I have been giving him. If he keeps this up and tolerates it well, he may be home late next week.

Tommorrow..

I'm having a baby. I've got to be at the hospital at 5:30a.m. surgery scheduled for 7:30 a.m.
 Keep your fingers crossed, I'm almost there..
I'll only be communicating via twitter. I just sent a test pic to make sure I can send a picture of the baby. Be sure you check there tomorrow if you'd like. I'll be in the hospital at least four days and this will be my only link to you guys.
 Wish me luck, I'm nervous about the surgery..

Rambling..

I'm on the verge, a brink. I am frustrated with not knowing exactly when this baby is coming. I can feel other's patience wearing thin, while mine is gone. I need to see for myself that this child is ok, not wait and wait some more. I had my feelings hurt terribly on Easter Sunday, and I'm still not sure I deserved it. I was nervous about the amnio that didn't happen and the fact that I thought I would be having a baby on the 12th. I left in tears and haven't heard from 'them' since. I overhear the plans being made for them to visit the baby in the hospital. This feels backwards, like I'm only a baby house to certain people. They don't know what I've been through. They don't know what I'm going through. I've hidden away for most of this pregnancy. I've been so anxious. I ventured out on Easter only to retreat again. My favorite family members haven't even seen this big belly. I skipped reunions, I skipped Christmas. I just couldn't do it. People judge me for this. People want me to be a normal smiling pregnant woman. People are angry at my need for some space on the day the baby comes. I can't make them see why. I receive snide comments. I need friendly faces and love, but that's not how the world is. People think I'm being selfish. They want to plan everything out while I just want to be. They scream about what's 'fair'. What is fair? None of this feels fair to me. I feel like a vessel, like I don't matter much, just what I hold inside. It's not supposed to be like this. I am overwhelmed and silent now. Please let them tell me tomorrow that the baby will be born Thursday. I need this.

Today did not go as planned...

So I get up on the table. The ultrasound tech tries to find a good spot of fluid in which to draw out while dealing with a tiny boy who won't stop moving and showing off. I sign the forms. They start to prep my belly. Nurse sticks her head in and says, "Lindsay, did you have your shot this morning?". I answer yes.
 Amnio was off at that point as no one told me not to have the shot today. So Monday, instead of having the baby, I will be doing the amnio. Delivery is set for Thursday morning now instead. Not what I was expecting, but not the worst thing. I did however get to see that my baby has a head FULL of hair which was waving around in the amniotic fluid. "Look at all of that hair!!", exclaimed the tech. His estimated weight was 6lbs8oz. I'm guessing he'll be a pound more by this time next week when he (fingers crossed) makes his debut.
 Everyone who sent me well wishes and were hoping and praying things would go well today, do you think you could just re-issue those Monday morning? I'm still nervous about it and I REALLY thought it would be over with today.
 Also, I decided again to try and stay awake when I deliver. I want to witness his birth. I don't want him to be alone when he comes. So, I hope I can be a big girl and do what I need to do. (The xanax that the doctor promised for early that morning will probably help with that possibilty)

Promised update..

Bed-rest is in full effect now. No lifting, no standing other than to get from one place to the other. I'm dilated to a centimeter and a fingertip (whatever that means). Since my anxiety medicine isn't working and a stronger one isn't good for baby, we're going for general anesthesia for my c-section on the twelfth to reduce the risk of my anxiety about it causing me to go into labor, which carries an increased risk of uterine rupture due to the keloid scarring on my uterus. The doctor is supposed to call me in a few hours to discuss this further and I really feel at peace with this choice. I was trying to be brave for everyone else, but truth is, I'm just terrified of being awake after the trauma that was Zoe's birth. Oh, and after receiving the call this morning that my insurance would no longer be covering my ridiculously expensive medication, my doctor's secretary came in the room during my NST to show me the confirmation she received that stated that I would, in fact be getting the medicine I need. She stuck it to 'em and it worked. That office can bet on a huge bouquet of flowers from me once this is over. I went from a goofy jerk that could care less, to a sweet and caring doctor whose staff goes out of their way to get things done the right way. This is a rare thing these days as I'm sure many of you know.
 I'm feeling better than I was this morning. I've plugged in a S.cen.t.sy wax warmer that I bought from a nurse up there that is a rep. I've let the dogs in and I'm watching W.ee.ds and letting the sweet smell of white tea and cactus drift around my room. ( I didn't buy into the hype of those wax warmer systems at first, but wow, they smell wonderful)
 I am so happy for Angie (Still Life with Circles) and the arrival of her new little boy. I hope she can rest easy now and enjoy that sweet new baby bliss. He looks just like her (to me at least) and is just precious. Congrats Ang!  You did a great job. I remember you anouncing you last NST last week and now he's here and healthy and perfect. You give me hope that I'll get through this too, healthy boy in tow.

Sorry for dumping...

My last NST is in two hours and I have entirely too many thoughts swirling around and knotting up my insides and I just have to get them out.
I have an anxiety disorder. It's been diagnosed since I was eleven and found myself in the hospital terrified of school and life in general. I was at an advanced school and had always done well  and I began to fail a subject for the first time. I just couldn't grasp algebra at that age. I had never experienced such strong anxiety and I buckled and was eventually put on anxiety medication and continued to take it since, except for during pregnancy. With Ivy, I did well. I don't know what changed, but I found myself functioning with no chemical help for anxiety. With Zoe, it was extremely hard being off of it and I often wonder if the anxiety didn't contribute in some way to the end of that pregnancy. This pregnancy has come with some anxiety issues (obviously) but I've been on Vistaril and it's helped. In fact it's done just enough to help me deal and keep me mostly calm. Well, I started waking up last week after I'd taken it before bed, restless. If you've ever suffered restless leg syndrome, imagine it like that, but all over your body. So I was groggy and unable to think straight and RESTLESS. I could not lay still. I didn't know what was going on. I'd sit in the hot tub at 3:00 a.m. and that was the only thing that helped me be still. As a desperate attempt to figure this out, I stopped the Vistaril and the restlessness went away. The anxiety is getting to be a bit much. There's quite a few outside stresses making it harder. Here are a few of them:
My nutty neighbor keeps calling the Health Department out to my house even though the stupid tiny leak has since been fixed. She called and told them it was worse. They always manage to show up at the most inopportune times. She sits on her porch and gawks at me while I'm watering flowers, sweeping the driveway etc. When she has company, she talks to them in the middle of her yard and laughs ridiculously loud and points and whispers. She got a piece of mail for Kenny in her mailbox two days ago and made a big show of getting our 'nice neighbor' to bring it to me, explaining very loudly why she was just too good to step foot on my property. It's ridiculous. She's ridiculous. I find myself thinking about her more than I should, but damn, every time I walk out of my front door, I feel like I'm on display and that's hard to handle. I have things to do, whereas, making me uncomfortable and trying to make me miserable has become her favorite new hobby. I have to stop myself, and remind myself who I am daily as thoughts of terrible things happening to her play their way across the stage of my brain. I am not that kind of person and I hate having those thoughts about another person

 Earlier this week, a guy from my neighborhood, pretended to be a girl on Facebook and lured a twelve year old (who was a friend of Kenny's niece) boy into meeting him. He sexually assaulted him and killed him and dumped him in some woods not terribly far from here. There are many things I could go on about here, but basically, this guy was already a registered sex offender. Our state is entirely too lenient on these kind of criminals and now a little boy has had his future brutally taken from him. The guy even had a wife and kids. I can't imagine what they are going through although I'm sure it's not as devastating as what that twelve year old's parents are facing.

I've had an issue every single time I go to get my injections from the pharmacy. I've had to pay for them a few times when the insurance wouldn't come through in time and they are $40 each. They give a different reason every two weeks and then the doctor and the pharmacist and myself have to make tons of calls and listen to conflicting reasons why they still won't cover it, and although I'm only going to need then for eleven more days, I'm tired of fighting for them. I took my last one this morning, and I don't know if I'll manage to get what I need before the holiday weekend. If I don't, I'll be spending $160 for my medication until Monday. It's RIDICULOUS! They told they nurse yesterday that if they could get this all arranged and pushed through that we wouldn't have any more issues with them not wanting to cover it for six months. That's great, considering that I only need 11 more. Sigh..

I had a small shower on Sunday. For reasons I won't get into, I probably lost my best friend that day. She's having a hard time and making some bad choices and some people were offended by her attitude and certain actions and afterward, let her know about it. She's angry at me for not taking up for her and she's not seeing the reality of how her mistakes are affecting her outwardly. She is furious at me and others and there is really little I can do besides condone her actions, which I can't do. Later that night she texted me attacking her for not attending her shower (which I just couldn't do so soon after Zoe died)  and Kenny received a text that said," You better hope that your son comes out looking just like Lindsay instead of your fat ugly ass". Some friend huh?

 My insurance just called and informed me that I was prescribed Lovenox for treatment of a condition not recommended by the FDA for use of said medication. It was denied. Umm.. I have two blood clotting disorders and it's an anti-coagulant. What is wrong with these people!!!!!!!


I have to go now. I have to get ready to drive myself across town for this NST and prepare myself for another day of fighting with my insurance for a medication my baby and I need to survive. I'm overwhelmed and this sucks. I'm sorry for dumping, but I had to get some of this out of my head somehow. I'll update real soon.

I did at least one thing right..

See?

Many things have changed since my uncomplicated delivery of this little girl. I've watched as her chicky-fuzz hair slowly grew into blonde ringlets (while mine traveled the rainbow at the speed of my whim). She has helped me to find the mother inside myself and nurture her as well.

 I know how lucky I am to have one perfectly healthy, beautiful child, and I've learned not to take that for granted. It's amazing to me that she's already eight years old, as of last Sunday. I feel like I was a baby myself when I had her. I was so naive. I would never have believed that I would go on to lose her sister, and that I would have to explain to my five year old why she would never get to see her baby sister alive. It still breaks my heart, but I know that without her, I wouldn't have had such a strong will to survive after Zoe died. Ivy saved me in a way.

She's been waiting to be a big sister for a healthy sibling for a long time. I hope that in just a couple of weeks, she gets that. She deserves it after all...

Aidyn Thomas..

I debated whether or not to publish this here, but I thought about the fact that so much could happen before he gets here and I'm in love with this picture and wanted to share him with those who care to see.

 Kenny and I have decided to name him Aidyn. Thomas is my father's first name.We've had a hard time getting a picture of his little face as the umbilical cord is always right there. I'm so grateful that the tech was able to get this shot. He looks very much like Kenny and Ivy when she was born. I love that his little mouth and his eyes are open. 4-D technology really is amazing..

Spring is coming..

The sun is shining brighter than usual from my bedroom window. It feels like spring and the air is warm and sweet. Soon, all of the animals around will begin to have their babies. It's my favorite time of year (until it begins to get incredibly hot that is). When I had Ivy, I lived in the city, but I loved the fact that the birds and squirrels were all bringing new lives into the world and I had a new precious baby. Aidyn will be coming just a few weeks after Ivy's birthday, and I just can't say how fitting it seems to be once again giving birth during the Spring. I'm excited, and terrified.I find myself wanting to throw the words 'hopefully' and 'if' in there, but damn, I'm really trying to be optimistic. I'm very well aware of the many things that can go wrong, and I'm trying to only worry about the things I have control over. It's not always easy. I can visit the dark world of 'if'' and I do, daily, but I don't like to stay there. It's scary there.
 Lately, I've been trying to get my home spotless and catch up on my crafty stuff. I still feel guilty for not getting all of my little contest prizes out there, but I haven't forgotten. They will come. Today I'm going to actually hang my little birds onto the mobile and finish a necklace I have had unfinished on my dresser for months. It's amazing to me how time seems to drag on yet pass so quickly with so many things left undone along the way...

Birth date scheduled...

Do you see that baby ticker over there on the right? It's changed! Nine weeks to go has been changed to a little over five weeks to go. At my appointment on Thursday, after some 4-D pictures were taken of my adorable little boy, the doctor came in to inspect my tummy where I have been giving myself daily injections. He noticed the scar from Zoe was a keloid scar and after poking around, decided that my risk for uterine rupture from contractions would probably be very high. He recommended having my cesarean at thirty-six weeks. The baby is 'practice breathing' and has developed a nice layer of 'brown fat' and is estimated to weigh in at 3lbs10oz. He had gained a pound and an ounce in three weeks. He's right on track with his measurements and looking very healthy and moving ALOT.
I'll have to have an amnio, which I'm not excited about, but if everything comes back fine, I will be having him three days later. So, if everything keeps going as well as it is now, I will be holding my new baby boy on April 12, 2010. Wow, I can't believe it's almost time.
I hate that my posts are becoming sparse, and when I do write, it feels like it's all technical things surrounding the baby. Honestly, it's easier to put all of that down than it is to describe all of my feelings surrounding my life right now.
I will say though, that I've been receiving so much love and support. Kenny has really stepped up and bought all of the baby's furniture and bedding. My mom has been buying sweet gifts for me and lots of stuff for the itty-bitty one. I really do feel blessed. I have a friend who calls and checks on me and the baby, offering to help and giving me someone to talk to. It's refreshing to not have to feel alone. I felt very alone at this point in my pregnancy with Zoe.
All the love and support from you guys and a few people in RL is keeping me from following my thoughts down a spiral of worry and fear. So thank you. Really. thank you for your love and support. You guys are really making a big difference for me. I feel loved and cared about as imperfect as I am.

What I haven't felt like writing about and a re-cap of my February..

I have been a bad blog friend as of late. I read your posts and comment some, but there are days when I can't stand to read about all of the loss.
I am nearly a week away from the point in pregnancy that I lost Zoe. It's hard to imagine getting past that point.
We've been putting the baby's room together and I try to talk myself out of believing it's a bad omen. Money doesn't allow me to prepare once/if he gets here. As new things go out of and into his room, I can't help but imagine the heartache of taking it down again. I don't remember who took down all of Zoe's things. I only remember being in the hospital and mentioning how I couldn't bear to do it myself. When I came home, it was all gone but the lavender walls. There was something bittersweet about watching those walls being covered in primer and later being painted a pearl white and olive green. It felt like I was letting her be erased. It felt a lot like moving on. I didn't speak any of this out loud.
Throughout my many appointments lately, my history has been asked over and over. I find myself speaking of Zoe and hear her referred back to me as some random fact, some note in my chart. I wait for the nurse to say they're sorry or something, but only one has. They keep going through their list. It hurts. (*note to all prenatal care nurses: When you ask a patient for their history, and it involves the death of an infant, take a second and say something. An 'I'm sorry' is quick and it's better than nothing)
The MFM has decided to do the delivery. He is sympathetic and seems intent on making sure the baby and I come out ok. He does an ultrasound every two weeks and checks cord blood flow and everything else that may could prevent the same result as before. He's the first doctor that cared about what happened and did some digging around as to why this occurred. There is no concrete answer. The clotting disorder could have been the cause, but there is no way to know, only ways to try and avoid a repeat.
I told him about my fear of the cesarean and he offered to put me to sleep for it. His nurse (and everyone else) has tried to convince me that I can get through the first few minutes, see my son alive and then get a fat dose of anti-anxiety meds to knock me out while he ties my tubes and sews me up. I don't seem to have the confidence in me that they do.
When I told him about my anxiety, he mentioned that I didn't seem overly anxious to him. I have had this problem (especially concerning medical professionals) since I was eleven years old. Perhaps I am just good at putting a calm mask on when I have no choice but to confront those fears.
I believe a lot of my fear (besides the medical) comes not only from the traumatic experience I had with Zoe (which could have been lessened had someone even tried to comfort me or tell me what was happening) but from being raped when I was eighteen. Something about being flat on my back and exposed during such an intimate time, and add to that, cold metal and needles and being shaved and prepped and catheterized, and I don't know how I'm going to do it. Then I think of the doctor saying the word 'resuscitate' when referring to the sleepy state of babies being born under general anesthesia and my blood runs cold. I don't think anyone knows me deeply enough to help me with the immense fear I will have either way. I don't know how to be strong for myself either. I only know that this boy is coming out one way or another and I daydream about it being over, healthy baby in tow. That also seems like a far-away possibility and I have to remind myself that it is possible for that to be my reality in about eight and a half more weeks.
So, the choice I am facing now is:
#1. Go for the general anesthesia knowing I will go to sleep and wake up and either have a healthy baby boy that gets to come into my room and be snuggled by his sleepy mother or be ushered into the NICU or worse because he couldn't breathe and it would be my fault.
#2.Go through the epidural and the prep. and try like hell to not freak out, not knowing for sure that I am even capable of that, and see my baby boy born and then go to sleep.

Of course #2 seems like the obvious answer but I just don't know if I can do it. I am so good in a bad situation concerning other people. I do what needs to be done and break down later if I need to. I can't seem to dredge up that strength for myself and my boy and it hurts me. I feel so weak.
So there you have it. I have been going through my days in a trance of fear and optimism. I have passing thoughts of doing crafty things and never do. That bird mobile I was working on is completely ready to put together. It would take me a half hour yet it sits in pieces still on my dresser, taunting me.
I've taken pictures of the snow here and of the bread I find myself making at least once a week and of the new additions to the baby's room and the beautiful yellow calla lillies that Kenny brought over on Valentine's Day. (How's that for a run-on sentence)
They were meant to have posts all their own, but it's too late to put them in any orderly post. I've decided to just jumble them all into this one. A re-cap of last month in photos if you will:

Captcha coming back..

So a while back I got rid of that pesky feature, but now that I'm getting comments in Japanese and comments regarding men's umm.. performance medication etc. I think I will putting back the captcha. I know it sucks, but so is being thrilled to have a new comment only to have a comment telling you what vacation spots are the best bargain instead..

Them..

My neighbors are insane. The same family owns the house next door and the house across from me. They hate my guts and truly, I promise, I did not earn this hatred. I am trying VERY hard not to let them earn mine.
Just to give you a bit of back story.
They once pulled a scab off of their youngest boy's knee,(he has now been removed by child welfare) and called the pound claiming my dog (Lucy, who only goes outside in the fenced in back yard) bit him. They wanted her taken in for observation, which had the pound agreed to do, would have cost me ten days without my dog and $400.
They've called the police on Ivy for crossing their driveway instead of walking in the street.
They used to rent another home on my street, and it was always packed with teenagers and cars and loud music. We only complained, to them, when the cars leaving their house would speed through the cul-de-sac, and I was afraid for Ivy's safety. This home caught on fire in the middle of the night a while back, and Kenny and I sat on the porch afraid that they were going to accuse us of burning it down. The house is still there, eight months later and is a hazard. There are animals living in it and children that try to play in it. They were told that they had to clear the property, but no one is making them.
We put up a small fence to remind Ivy not to go onto their side of it, and they had someone mark their property lines and called the police again when they discovered that the fence was three inches inside the property line. Police told us to move it, we moved it.
The electric company has been called to my house numerous times. Once to put up two huge lights on their property, but shining directly onto my front and back yard. They told the company that they were afraid for their safety and wanted the light installed. They came once to look at our electric service pole as they had a claim that there was a dangerous amount of slack in it. There isn't. When I asked about removing the lights, that only shine into my yards, I was told that they had payed for them, and I would have to take them to court to have them taken down. I live in the country, on purpose, and I can no longer see the stars.
I've had the police called on me for trespassing while I hadn't left my yard. Kenny and Ivy have both have had the police called on them. The police department told them the last time they came to stop calling unless it was an emergency or a law had been broken.
As there is no heavy traffic, no contact with the neighbors whatsoever, and no laws being broken on my property, I was sure they would give up.
I had a dream Wednesday that the Health Department was dispatched to my home. In my dream they inspected my house and told me my neighbors were tired of my filth. I woke up and I remember thinking that I was being ridiculous. My home is very clean. I have an exterminator, so my home is bug and rodent free. I chastised myself for letting my mind run crazy like that.
So yesterday I was sitting with a friend drinking coffee and I got up to go to the bathroom. I noticed my neighbors face in my window and also saw two people with name tags on their clothes inspecting the side of my house. I started shaking. I knew it wasn't good. Ivy has had enough of this and is now scared of the police. I knew it was going to be another big ordeal. I sent my friend to speak to them until I could catch my breath and calm down.
She came back into my bedroom and said, "Remember that dream you told me about? Well, two people from the Health Department want to speak to you."
They informed me that they had been dispatched on a complaint that I was leaking RAW SEWAGE into the neighbors property. Upon examination of the leak, they found that there was in fact a leak, a very small one. They said it made a tiny drop every thirty seconds. They said it was GROUND WATER, aka clean water coming from an elbow joint in my plumbing. I explained my crazy neighbor situation and asked if they knew of anyone I could go to and have this harassment stopped. I have already spoken to the police and was told that I couldn't do anything. They shook their heads and apologized for this mess. Then they informed me that the leak wasn't considered a hazard, but I did need to call them once the leak was fixed. Apparently when they get a claim, they have to come and insure it's been fixed.
I was so angry. This is the fifth time my friend has been here when I've had to talk to some official someone instead of visiting with her. Ivy thinks the police are people that come when your neighbors are angry. I have always tried to teach her that the police are here to help us, and that if she's ever in trouble or lost, she should go to a police person if she can find one. She told me recently, that if she were ever lost, she would find someone she knew instead of the police, cause the police are scary. Great.
Now, keep in mind, I do not speak to these people. I even go so far as to avoid eye contact. We avoid their properties like the plague. I've started to get anxiety attacks when a car pulls into the neighborhood that I don't recognize. I'm afraid I will lose my dogs. That they will get taken to the pound for no reason, and I won't have the money to retrieve them. I am afraid that child protection will be the next to arrive, as I can't imagine that they have anyone else to try to contact now that the police have warned them to stop making frivolous calls.
I am afraid of being here once the baby is born, stitches to my belly button and sore with Ivy and a new baby to care for and some sort of official knocking at my door. I feel bullied. I am angry. I have been letting this mess go, and refusing to get upset. I've had talks with Ivy about the nature of those people and what we can learn from them as far as how not to treat people. Those lessons are going unlearned as we ignore them and they don't stop.
I am an intelligent person. I don't tend to be argumentative or confrontational. I take care of my home and my child. All they've ever had to do was knock on my door and tell ME what was bothering them. I would have made an effort to fix it. I can only guess that all of this is not really about me, as I truly have done nothing to earn all of this. The police have never filed an actual report against me. The pound knew they were lying and my dog didn't get taken. The electric company suggested a civil suit which I can't afford. all of these official people know I have done nothing wrong, but the harassment continues.
I deal with their lights illuminating the inside of my home at night. I live with the constant threat of police knocking on my door and scaring my daughter. I don't invite many people over because it would be quite embarrassing when the police or God knows who else come knocking. Like I said, yesterday was the fifth time my friend had come over and I've had to spend at least an hour talking to someone who was spitefully sent here.
When the police came over the fence issue, the police man asked my neighbor, why she couldn't just knock on my door and ask me to move the fence and why did she hate me so. She replied, "Because she (pointing at me) needs to learn to keep her bodily fluids off of my husband!" I wanted to melt into my driveway. She isn't married and doesn't even have a boyfriend. I feel stupid even typing that, but it's an example of the ignorance surrounding all of this craziness.
How do you deal with unjustified hatred directed at your family? I've been dealing with this gracefully since Zoe died, but I don't know how much longer I can do that.
Don't I have the same right to raise a family and own a home and have peace in that home as everyone else?
Why won't the police in my city protect me and my child and my guests from this insane harassment?
I have nice neighbors. We take each other dinner and our kids play together. After the incident yesterday, they called me over to talk. This lady was pregnant right after I lost Zoe. Apparently, she had been called to the evil neighbors house back then and told that while she was at work, I was sneaking over to her house and messing with her husband (who is twenty years older than me). She didn't believe them and never told me about it as she knew I was dealing with enough already. The nice neighbor and her husband told me yesterday how sorry they were that I was being bullied this way. They said enough was enough and they would be witnesses to this insanity if I could find anyone to listen. They've heard their fair share of lies about me and are tired of the police etc. being on our street every week. They've called some sort of comission about the half burnt house, but nothing has been done.
I don't know what to do. I own this home and it isn't payed for. I would have to rent it out if I wanted to move elsewhere, and I doubt that any tenant would stay any length of time because of these people. I feel cornered. I have done nothing but try. I can't stop thinking about this, but I don't know what I can do to fix it.
I'm stuck in a battle I didn't start and I won't fight fire with fire, as tempting as that may be.
Any suggestions or ideas? Anyone?!?!

Gotta hurry..

I am SO tired and I have another full day today. I saw the MFM yesterday. I tested positive for two of the seven clotting disorders they tested for. My little boy is 2lbs,8 oz and I saw him in 4-d. He has Kenny's nose but otherwise looks just like Ivy. He had his foot on his forehead, on the bridge of his nose. He stuck his tongue out at us and we got a picture of that. This doctor was very sympathetic when I explained my fear of the cesarean. I told him in detail what happened when Zoe was born and I explained how terrified I am to be cut while aware. He offered to deliver the baby, in my town under general anesthesia even though he rarely delivers babies anymore. We're actually going to try to do the cesarean while awake with a promise for anti-anxiety meds to be on standby and injected as soon as the baby is out. This way, I'll get to see the baby, and know he's ok, but be relaxed enough to let them complete a tubal litigation and sew me up. If the anxiety meds aren't strong enough, he'll sedate me, but it won't be a general anesthetic. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I feel like there are a few people who don't want me to go through any unnecessary trauma, and these people have offered to have my care transferred to them.
Today I go to the old fart doctor the the glucose test and then back to the MFM to see if they are going to transfer my care to them (for sure) and to learn to inject myself with the Levenox I will be taking now daily. Fun.
I'm planning a big nap this afternoon and Ivy's dad has offered to keep her tonight so that I can sleep in tomorrow, but now I have to get myself ready to drive to another city and drink the sugar water before driving back to my own city to the MFM all the while praying and hoping that he actually decides to deliver this baby. If so I will sign the transfer papers today.
So, yeah, I feel better, I'm just tired and I can't quite relax with these things still up in the air.
I better get going. Oh, and it's snowing outside. Living in Louisiana, you don't get snow very often. Usually you don't even see it once in a few years. This is the second time this year!

Someone better listen..

If I can't get a medical professional to understand how TERRIFIED I am of this cesarean, and offer me some course of action other than, 'just lay there, it won't take long, you won't feel it..etc' I will keep this baby inside FOREVER!

Lindsay and Ivy's Sunday

This is the post that would have been published yesterday, but, well, yesterday really sucked.
I had been promising Ivy we would make terrariums and Sunday seemed like a great day to have some one on one time with her before she went to school for the week.
We collected some jars and some charcoal and some crushed shell..




We went to my neighbors house (not the mean ones) that borders some woods and started looking for moss..


I snapped some pretty pictures of the moss growing on the roots of a pine tree..


Ivy decided to be really silly for a picture..


Then for some strange reason she started to shake a small tree back and forth. It was cute and she was having fun being silly with her mom...


We looked and looked and found some pretty peices of lush green 'carpet'..


We washed the extra dirt off in a puddle of cold water...


Look Ivy!


Then we sat down and started to put them together.


Ivy was doing a very good job and really focusing..lol




We're finished!


aren't they beautiful!


We really had a good time. They are sitting on our kitchen table now as it is too cold I think to put them in the windows. All the greenery has survived so far and I hope they continue to grow. I read online to put activated charcoal in them to prevent a rotten smell, so we'll see. I haven't seen any little critters in them so far and I didn't add any pesticide as that kind of went against the whole 'natural' thing.
Soon, we plan to make some little decorations out of clay and stick them inside. Mushrooms or little acorn houses perhaps?
We'll see what we come up with and I'll be sure to post pictures of our whimsical little terrariums once we finish.
Oh, and one more thing.. I LOVE this girl! She's given me some of the best years of my life and I'm sure there will be more to come. She gave me something to live for, to heal for, when I lost Zoe and she gives me hope everyday. I look at her and know that I can and have brought a healthy baby safely from my womb to this earth.
I was so young when I had her, but I always worked hard to nuture her and give her a happy childhood. This girl reminds me that I have done a good job. My sacrifices have been trivial compared to the lovely little girl that I have the pleasure of raising into a beautiful woman.
I love my Ivy!