A New Normal

The other day, through tears, I said to my husband, "I just miss feeling normal." He said: "There's going to be a new normal. Life will never be the same again, just like after we lost our first baby. But there will be a new normal."

Isn't he so right about that? 

Sometimes, things happen in our lives that change everything. They change the way you feel about yourself, and the way you see your life. Game-changers, I guess. At first you are ripped apart, and floating in darkness. You feel alone in your grief. You start to believe that this is all you will ever feel. Then days pass, and despite what people say, the pain doesn't lessen...but it does becomes familiar. You learn to live with it. 

The other day I realized that, from now on, whenever I meet someone new, and they ask about my parents, I will have to say, "My Dad lives in Germany, and my Mom died." This is now a piece of my story, and it's a part I cannot change. 

Rafael asks a lot about death. It has become a permanent part of the landscape of his childhood. This is another thing I cannot change. 

It means so much more than anything I can write here. The loss of my mother, the her-not-being-here, the no-more-letters-or-emails, the fact that her voice is only something I hear in my head. It has so much more weight than I can explain. It is woven throughout my days and nights. I think about it all the time. 

This lump in my throat, and the hot tears that spill. They are a part of my new normal. This missing. The terrible moment when I wake in the morning and remember that she is gone. Her final hours in the hospital, swollen, black and blue...and then seeing her lifeless, her body growing cold. It plays like a film in my mind every day. 

All a part of my new normal.

It's not that there wasn't beauty to be found in her death. Surrounded by loved ones! How many are so fortunate?

And it's not that there isn't beauty in my life. Just look at these photos. So much beauty indeed. 

But for now, it feels somehow separate from me. I laugh and smile, I play with my silly boy, and revel in his perfect face. I smooth his hair, put my face to his head and breath in his scent. I cook good meals, meet good friends. Talk about all the hundreds of things there are to talk about. 

But always, just beneath the surface, like a fine, lavender fog-colored layer that only I can see, right there, like a layer of second skin...there is that sadness. Always that sadness.

So the new normal is still settling in. I am still learning what it all means. 

xoxoxoxo

Another Goodbye

This goodbye has been so much easier than our first.....it went so fast and I never saw it's heart beating. Still, it is a cruel thing...being taken on an emotional rollercoaster ride of joy and then loss. 

I found out I was pregnant on Thursday. "What are you doing next July 20th?" I asked my husband over the phone. "July 20th? I don't know, why?" "That's the due date of our next baby!" 

And then I lost it on Saturday.

So it was two days of excitement and worry. 

We both felt that mix of happiness and anxiety that only parents who have lost a baby before truly know.  

Maybe having a healthy child here, living, breathing, laughing, causing mayhem and making me laugh and pull my hair out at the same time, makes something like this easier. Having this blessing and being reminded that this is enough. If I never am blessed with a child again, it is enough. I am already so lucky.

So we say 'goodbye' to the tiny little poppyseed-sized bundle of cells and love and possibility, and focus on our blessings. 

Thank you....for always sharing in my journey. 

xoxoxo

Winter Days

Hello! Happy new year!

2012 ended quietly for us. We were sick throughout the holidays, holed up in our home, fighting a virus, all the way through the new year. 

Now we are healthy and strong again, enjoying the freshly fallen snow and the coziness indoors. January as it should be.

Rafael is thriving. Communicating, laughing, playing, observing, learning, and loving (I get so many kisses every day!). Daily life with him is what keeps me from blogging more often. I am deeply involved in being his mother. And it's a beautiful thing.

As it always is in January, I have the longing for a clean slate at home. Once I clear up the Christmas decorations, the first thing I like to do is buy flowers and candles. This week it was pink anemones and a green tea scented candle. I also found these two little house-shaped lanterns, which glow next to the framed ultrasound photo of our Blueberry. 

I am enjoying the normalcy and simplicity that January brings. Meeting up with friends who were away for the holidays. Marking birthdays and playdates on my 2013 calendar and envisioning what this year might hold. Rushing to the window early in the mornings with Raffi to watch the big orange snowplow clearing the path across the river from our home. Cooking our simple lunches and eating them side by side, feeling satisfaction when Rafael gobbles up big portions of broccoli, rice and chicken. Naps cuddled up together, and Raffi waking me up with kisses and saying the 'sentence' that he repeats a hundred times a day: "Mama, Papa, Kiki." 

I hope you are all feeling good about this gift we have been given...a new year. A fresh set of four seasons. 12 months in which we will learn, grow, and get to know ourselves even more.

xoxoxo

Missing

Sometimes I'll be spending time with Rafael, and suddenly I am overwhelmed with the feeling that something is missing. You know when you leave the house and think, "Wait, did I forget something?" Then I realize it's his older sibling that is missing.

Sometimes I feel like he is just in the other room playing, or about to run around the corner and laugh. He'd be two years old by now, a sunny, funny, busy little boy with shining mischievous eyes and a laugh that rings out. He'd run around our home with a superman cape trailing behind him, and show Rafael all of his toy cars and dinosaurs. He'd hold his little brother and give him kisses on the forehead, and Rafael would look up at him with a big grin and so much fascination.

I truly believe that Blueberry is with us. Ramon also said that sometimes he can FEEL him in the room with us. I always feel him next to Rafael. There were two times when Rafael was still a tiny baby when he laughed and smiled up at nothing, and I alway got goosebumps, feeling strongly that his big brother was there, visiting.

Today, watching Rafael nap beside me, I broke into quiet tears, missing my first baby so badly. Feeling so robbed of his life, his laugh, his love.

I can imagine that people who have never lost a baby might find it strange to miss an unborn child so much, especially when you have been given the blessing of a live, healthy baby. They might even think mothers like me are ungrateful. I am definitely not ungrateful. I cherish every moment with my little Rafael. But parents who have experienced loss will know that, one baby does not replace another. One soul cannot replace another.

I am afraid I will always feel something is missing from this little family. As beautiful as it is, there is a very special part missing.

I leave you now with a photograph of Rafael and his Papa a couple of weeks ago...When Ramon and I looked at it, we were both instantaneously hit with the feeling that the light shaft shining down on Rafael was Blueberry. So it was, indeed, a family walk. He does come visit us sometimes. And is with us in our hearts always.

xoxoxo

Daddy's First Gift For His Son

Ramon just sent me this picture from Italy, where he is currently filming a television show. Ever since I can remember, when we would go into a shoe shop, he would look at the baby Nikes and say, "Some day...."

That day has come.

I felt so happy looking at this picture, knowing the pride and excitement Ramon is feeling, the anticipation and love.

One year ago today, I wrote this blog entry. So much has changed. And I am reminded that we should put our lives in God's hands, and trust God's timing.

Happy July, everyone!

xoxo country girl

P.S. I just bought a box of the rosiest, most delicious apricots at the farmer's market. Time to fill jars with sunshine again!

International BabyLost Mothers Day

Today we celebrate the bond between mothers and their babies who left this world too soon. I want to take this chance to embrace all of my fellow BabyLost mothers who have experienced the pain of loss, and whose little angels are watching them from above. The love shared, though for a short time, is truly never forgotten! You are a mother and always will be.

xoxo country girl

For more information on the organization, click here.

The Most Happy News!

We're having a baby!

I am so happy to finally share this with all of you. This morning we had our 12 week scan (one of the most amazing experiences of my life to see our baby, with hands and feet and an adorable head, kicking and wiggling around), and once the ultrasound technician told us that our baby looks healthy as can be, I was ready to tell the world.

This precious baby was conceived on Christmas, and it's due date is September 18th.

We are over the moon. Especially now that we have seen it, so lively and healthy! It was so active that the technician had a hard time getting a good photo of it.

Ever since we found out on January 8th that God had blessed us with another chance, it has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions. Worry, joy, fear, excitement. I am glad I can finally share what I am truly going through. It's been hard to keep this big part of my life a secret up until now! How many times I have wanted to write about my morning sickness, my cravings, my hopes, my thoughts.

There is someone I want to a send a very special Thank you: Cheryl, a reader of this blog for over a year according to her heartfelt letter, sent me the most beautiful gift.

A necklace in commemoration of our first baby, Blueberry, who left us so soon. Thank you, Cheryl. Your thoughtfulness and kindness has touched my husband and I so deeply. You have given us such a precious gift. Our hearts are mingled with yours.

The sun is shining, and the birds are busy building nests. We are waiting impatiently for spring to burst forth, for warmth to ease us and green to please us. But mostly, today, we are simply grateful. To have seen our baby, to know that it is healthy, and to have been given this amazing gift of new life.

xoxo country girl

2010 in Pictures and Memories

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

I want to thank you all for, once again, joining me here in this space where I share my images, thoughts, joys, sorrows...life. I think about the significance of having this blog very often, and am always overcome with gratitude, to have this place where I not only express myself, but where kindred souls mingle.

This year was very turbulent at times. Learning to live with loss. My husband working extremely hard and me being alone alot. Starting my own small business. Welcoming a new puppy into our family. Moving to a new home. I'm exhausted just writing it all down! 

Amidst the whirlwind of action, I did my best to find pockets of peace and quiet. Mostly outdoors, walking in the woods. But also at home. Taking a bubble bath. Staring out the window at deer and wild pigs on the opposite hill. Writing to friends. Playing with the dogs. Even taking naps and daydreaming when I had the chance. 

This fresh new year lies ahead, so virgin and mysterious. Are you also fascinated by the opportunity a new year brings? I always feel it is a gift. A chance to do things better. To see more beauty in simple things. To be kind and generous. Be creative and innovative. Wake up earlier, eat healthier, move more. Live in gratitude for all of the blessings in my life.

I am turning 30 in February, so this year holds special meaning for me. Understanding that, even if my circumstances aren't exactly as I had planned or pictured, they are truly amazing and full of grace. 

Thank you for being here with me, and always leaving such thoughtful notes. Your words make me feel connected to a community of kindred spirits. 

Happy New Year! May all seasons be sweet to thee in 2011!!

xoxo country girl

Imagine for a moment that you are walking with a dearly, dearly beloved person by the edge of a cliff. Now imagine that beloved person being pushed off the cliff in front of your eyes and you can only stand by helplessly and watch it happen. And now imagine that, every month, you are forced to go back and stand at that cliff's edge, and remember how it felt to watch that person fall.

That's what it's like when I get my period every month since I lost my baby.

I remember distinctly the drive to the hospital that day, sitting in the back seat of my sister-in-laws van, my mother in law squeezing my hand. I remember the waves of intense cramps in my lower abdomen, and the feeling of panic and disbelief, mixed with the fading hope that the doctor would look and tell me everything is OK.

What I remember most, though, was lying somewhat upright in a chair with my feet up in straps and a friendly female doctor who smelled like she had just finished a sandwhich searching in every direction inside of me, both of us staring at the monitor by my head, waiting for that tiny beating heart to show up. I remember when she looked to the left, where I knew my baby had been nestled, my heart pounding fast when I saw emptiness. Eventually she said, "No, I'm sorry, I don't see anything at all."

It was a small, dark room, and my husband was sitting at the other end of it, just out of sight. There was a curtained-off area where I pulled back on my clothes, sobbing quietly, still in shock, not wanting to cry in front of the doctor, but not able to control my tears. I remember how quiet it was in that room, even though there were three of us in it. Ramon sat with the doctor waiting for me to finish dressing, and the only sound was of my crying.

When I sat down with them, she asked me if I had an ultrasound photo of my baby. I nodded and pulled it out of my bag. She looked at it and I'll never forget how she looked at it and said, "Eindeutig." She had printed out the picture of my empty womb, and seeing the two pictures next to each other was heartwrenching.

She typed out a description of what had happened while Ramon and I sat, stunned, still not fully believing what was going on. I don't remember exactly what she said to me while the diagnosis was being printed ("Abortus Completus"), something about it happening to many women and not to give up hope, and not to use a tampon for the bleeding. She supplied me with two large packages of enormous maxi pads and gave me my two ultrasound photos and the printed diagnosis.

I don't know exactly why I am sharing all of this now...it's been over a year since we lost our baby. A part of me worries that I'm writing things no one wants to read, something so personal and sad that it should be kept to myself. On the other hand, there's this urge to get it out, to tell that story. It haunts me again and again. Those moments that run like a movie in my head, especially at the beginning of the time of month where I feel that familiar cramping, and am reminded that I still don't have a baby, my womb is still empty.

Last night, when my husband and the dogs were already deep asleep and snoring, I listened to melting snow drip on the windowsil and cried, wondering if my baby knows how much I miss him, how much I love him. I know he is free, flying with the angels. But does he know that my heart is broken? That I think of him every day? That I wish I could be cuddling him to my breast, smelling his soft head, feeling his hand gripping my finger?

This is such a lonely place.

xoxo

he flies with angels

This morning I was having my breakfast of toast and coffee, taking a small break from packing, perusing my favorite etsy shops. I stopped by Lovely Sweet William , and when I saw this picture, I burst into tears. I am still crying now as I write this. To me, this is a picture of our son, our little angel baby Blueberry. Flying with the angels. Smiling at me. Telling me he is happy where he is, and that everything is alright. 


I immediately bought this print. It will be placed next to the ultrasound picture we keep lovingly framed by our bed. 


I miss our baby so much.


But at least I know he is up there, flying with the angels, smiling down on us.


xoxo country girl

Last Fall

Last fall was an exciting time. We took a trip to Cape Cod, my mother came to visit us here in the Austrian countryside, and on October 26th, I got the positive pregnancy test I had been hoping and praying for for so long. Every day I had this grin on my face. Every night my husband and I talked about our baby. I was overwhelmed by a feeling of fulfillment; everything was falling into place. I felt so incredibly blessed. I felt my baby growing inside of me, felt the changes it was already making in my life....the only thing that tasted good was dry toast and tea, I had to take a two hour nap every afternoon, and my lower abdomen seemed to pop out one morning. 
Ramon and I marvelled at how we already felt like a father and mother. When I was in public, at the farmers market, on the bus, I thought, "No one here knows my wonderful secret!" And I would find myself smiling, thinking about the tiny heartbeat under the spot where my hand was resting on my belly. 


There are so many good things this fall, too. Our new puppy Boston, who doesn't feel new anymore, but as if he always belonged, and watching Kiki embrace him as her playmate; the big move to a brand new home; enthusiastic customers supporting my little etsy shop; the strong love and friendship I share with my husband. And autumn itself, of course....like this morning, with it's frosty grass, blue skies, and mushroom scent. 


But there is also this hole. This hole that brings tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat, and makes me feel small and sad. On the day we lost our baby, I couldn't have known how long the pain of that day would stay with me. It's overwhelming how, in the middle of a very fine day, it will suddenly grip me, and I will feel that grief and loss so strongly. 


Here we are, nearly a year later...and I still think about how old our baby would be now (4 months), and wonder when or if we will be blessed with a baby in the future, and why it hasn't happened yet. 


Fortunately there are many distractions right now, so many things keeping me occupied. 


But there are those moments, like now, when I wish with every fiber of my being that I was holding my little one, nursing him, rocking him, watching him sleep peacefully in my arms.


xoxo country girl

Chocolate Cake and Healing

It was time to celebrate my mother in law's birthday, and time to see my sister in law's new son for the first time. I remember when I was pregnant last fall, I told Ramon's mother, "We'll be giving you a grandchild for your birthday!" "Well, that's just the best present I can think of!" She answered.


As you all know, I was not able to give her a grandchild. Instead she got a pink rain coat and shiny black rain boots from us. And a towering, 4 layer chocolate cake, decorated with Kiki La Ru Cake Bunting and flowers. My 3 year old nephew, who is still getting used to having a little brother, got his own mini cake, complete with rainbow sprinkles and a flag with his first initial. Something just for him, that he didn't have to share..."Only big brothers get these," I told him. 


I was nervous about meeting my newest nephew, who would have been about two weeks older than my own baby. And I was holding in feelings of sadness because I was going to this celebration without a newborn in my arms as I had pictured eight months ago. But it was time.


And once I saw that little being, sleeping stretched out, with a mohawk of fine hair and the smoothest, rosy skin, I only felt love. 


We dove into that huge, delicious cake while the baby slept behind me in his cradle. Once I heard him fussing a little, and I turned around to comfort him. He opened his eyes when I stroked his belly and smiled at me! A toothless, crooked little grin, before his heavy eyelids dropped and he fell asleep again. The sweetest thing. 


The only time I really felt my loss was when my sister in law nursed her newborn. Odd as it may sound, this is something I crave with my whole soul and body.


All in all though, it was a healing experience...over chocolate cake.

Black Devils Food Cake

a delicious vintage recipe from 'betty crockers picture cook book'

Preheat oven to 350° F (180° C)
Grease and flour 2 9inch layer pans or a 13x9 inch oblong pan.


Cream together 2/3 cups shortening (i used butter)  and 1 2/3 sugar (i used brown)


Add 3 eggs


Blend together 2/3 cup cocoa, 1 teaspoon vanilla and 1 1/3 cups cold water.


Sift together 1/3 teaspoon baking powder, 1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda, and 1 teaspoon salt.


Stir in alternately with with the cocoa mixture.


(I just threw the ingredients into my kitchenaid one after the other, beating well after each addition, and it turned out very fluffly and delicious)


Bake for about 30 minutes.
................


My etsy shop is officially open now, with 10 lovely items. I am especially proud of the cake bunting. Stop by and have a look, if you like! click here: Kiki La Ru Shop .


xoxo country girl

Hope Springs Eternal

Hope springs eternal in the human breast...

Meet Boston.

Boston is a 5-week-old Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.

He will be joining our family in September, and we are so incredibly excited!

Boston, pictured here being kissed/bitten by a sibling, is a ray of shining hope for us.

The pain of this day, today, my original due date with angel baby Blueberry, has been softened and soothed by the joy and happy anticipation of this sweet little boy.

It's one of those stories where, when you look back, you know it was God giving you a break.

On Saturday, I wanted to send Kiki's breeder a new photograph of her, as I sometimes do, but couldn't seem to find his email address. So I went on his website, and there they were....a new, adorable litter of puppies.

AND JUST ONE LEFT.

Our little Boston!!

(We've named him after the city we fell in love with last autumn.)

Boston....our ray of sunshine!

xoxo country girl

p.s. thank you all, SO MUCH, for your words of comfort and encouragment!!!