Skip to main content


Showing posts from May, 2012

bennett lately

I think it's time for a Bennett picture post, don't you? First I have to thank Small Bird Studios for fixing up the space a bit for me.  Franchesca is so easy to work with, and patient with all of my changes!


What do I say? What can  I say? I felt sick to my stomach all day, nerves rising as the hours wore on.  J called when he was off work, asked if we were going to take an evening walk. "We can't, we have that thing." "Oh, that's right.  I forgot." How could he forget?  I wish I had that ability. I asked about the complaint and case before we began.  It's all extremely confidential, so much so the investigator would only tell us the complaint was made by a mandated reporter.  At least I think that's what he said, and if it was, I'm really lost as to the origin of the complaint. I don't know how much I can say.  We weren't told to keep quiet, but after seeing the investigator haul out a huge file hundreds of pages thick this is all feeling rather serious. The majority of the questions were for me, but at the end J was allowed the floor. He doesn't speak of Charlotte often, not like I do; watching him do so is heartbreakin

monday blues & one embarrassing story

How about a slightly embarrassing story to brighten your day? Before I share I want to thank my brother for his service.  I know he has friends he is missing and remembering this Memorial Day.  Love you brother, thank you for protecting our country and its freedoms. ** I spent my day cleaning the heck out of our house.  I washed windows cleaned blinds, swept, mopped, organized and alphabetized the spice cabinet. I AM SO STRESSED AND ANXIOUS I just had to do something besides fret.  J handled B most of the day so I could work out my issues via cleaning and scrubbing. On top of cleaning and organizing most of the house (the upstairs is still a disaster) I baked bread. A few days ago I discovered that the bread I've been eating has high fructose corn syrup.  When J came home from work I told him about it. His response? "I know." " You know ?" "It's cheap bread, what do you expect?" "I don't know, no high fructose

be still

Oh, everyone, all of you wonderful people, hugs.  Thank you for all of the comments on my last post.  It's been so difficult here lately and I really needed to rest my head for a moment and whine. On Thursday night I received a call and I've been a mess ever since.  As soon as the person on the line said, "We would like to ask you some questions about your daughter's birth," my heart dropped, my stomach twisted in half, and my world tilted, memories flying off the disorganized shelves in my mind. I haven't managed to right things yet.  I'm in a place of worry and fear and anxiety. On Tuesday evening an investigator and a "subject expert" from the agency investigating the complaints surrounding Charlotte's birth will come to our home (they are being very  accommodating  and apologetic) to interview us.  He asked if we would be willing; I suppose saying "no," was an option, but I hope - and perhaps foolishly so - that if we do th

wits' end

I just don't know what to do about B's sleep problems.  I know things just seem bleak because I'm exhausted and in the middle of trying to get him to nap - AGAIN, the morning one was a battle too - but goodness it's frustrating. We finally had him on a good routine and now he's back to waking constantly.   I think he might be teething, but every time I've thought that before I've been wrong.  Most days I get to the point where my efforts are not working so I give up and put him in his crib where he sobs and screams.  But most of the time that works, and within a few minutes. Rocking is not wanted, and lately nursing to sleep isn't wanted either.  Standing over the crib was working - and sometimes that still works at night - but most of the time it just makes him try to scale the crib to get to me. And my saving grace - bringing him to bed with me in the middle of the night, or napping with him - no longer works.  He will not settle anywhere but hi

Right Where I Am 2012: Two Years, One Week, Three Days

Once again Angie is providing a place for the babylost to explore where we are at in our grief.   Here is my post from last year . I've been up since 5:30 am.  Charlotte's brother decided it was a perfectly acceptable time to get up and begin our day.  He is eight months old, nearly nine now, and watching him grow has shifted the shape of my grief. Charlotte's second birthday deathday anniversary  day has come and gone.  I'm not as bereft as I was after the first one had passed, but I do feel  empty and sad.  It feels like each day before the 14th of May is a build up, a waiting, and then her day comes and it's anti-climatic, so hollow, and somehow I have to find a way to make it meaningful. And after her day I find myself in a place of watching the spring rain soak the ground and nourish new life, which just guts me.  Spring is a time of growth, of budding, blossoming, blooming, and having a spring baby that died feels like a spectacularly cruel joke. I

bennett clapping

This eighth month has been insane .  Bennett has perfected his army crawl, learned how to pull himself up on most anything, started solids via the baby led weaning method (kid took down chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and raspberries this evening) and learned how to clap. Most of these skills he's learned in the past week and a half. Guys, I'm exhausted. I have 12,000 pictures to share with you soon - many of them food related - but tonight this short video of Bennett clapping will have to do.

quiet spring afternoon

I don't have much to say.  It's afternoon, it's raining, there are toys strewn all over the floor, B is finally  napping. We've reached a transitional stage, he does not want to be rocked to sleep, but he's not quite able to put himself to sleep from a fully awake state.  So I set him in his crib, leave him alone for a few minutes; he fusses when he's done playing with his giraffe and pulling himself to a stand in every corner of the crib.  I lay him down, give him his blanket, kiss his forehead, and stand next to the crib while he falls asleep. It's frustrating, annoying - why won't you just let me rock you?! - but it's better than the emptiness of unused baby items in a dark nursery. This month has been a studied concentration in keeping it together.  It's not gone how I would like, life has been too much in the way for me to withdraw as I wish, as I need to. It's pouring, sheets of rain from the skies soaking our vegetable gardens

busy b

This morning B did not want to be rocked before rest time.  We read a book, turned on the white noise machine, turned off the light, and then he was done with mama, so I set him in his crib. I sat in the living room listening to him talk as I texted a few people.  B talked and talked and talked.  Then he laughed.  Then he talked some more.  I texted my friend, "I just know he's standing up, lecturing to the room at large." A few minutes later the talking turned to screaming.  Scared screaming.  I rushed in to see what the matter was.  B was standing up, holding on to his crib with one hand and smacking his changing table with the other (his changing table is attached to his crib).  Poor sweetheart was done with the standing and orating, but he couldn't get down, he was paralyzed by fear. "You have to let go, B," I told him.  "Drop down on your bottom when you're done standing."  I picked him up and rocked him for a few minutes.  Once he


We have a busy day ahead of us.  I'm trying to write this quickly while J sleeps and B wreaks havoc/tortures the dog. Last night the birth center where Charlotte was born had a mama's night out for their clients.  The birth center has been working on building a group of women who support one another; the online group they created is a wonderful resource, and as summer comes there will be yoga/playgroups/more chances to get together.  It's a wonderful thing. Going to the birth center in May is hard for me, but my neighbor friend who delivered her second with my midwife was going so I went along.  It was fun to meet and talk with people I've connected with online, and there were a few sweet babies to cuddle on too.  B was in bed, that kid is not nice when he's tired. The gathering was behind the birth center, in the orchard.  The birth center sits on a beautiful piece of land.  I'm SO jealous of the midwife who lives there with her family full time. Ev

what I want

This is a long list, I have a whole lot of wants, but what I really want right now is to share Charlotte's story.  I feel compelled to grow, to speak, to write, to meet others who are struggling and find relief in the sharing of pain. In October there's going to be a conference in Indianapolis for Christian bloggers - Influence . I really, really, really want to go.  Like, what furniture can I sell so I can go?  But I don't think this is the right time.  Bennett will be just over a year, he'll still be nursing quite a bit.  J works full time, and then some, he's picking up some extra work at the hospital so we can pay our debt off a bit faster.  It just doesn't make sense for me to go. Letting things happen gradually has always been a problem for me.  When I want to do something I want to do it RIGHT AWAY.  I don't think about what the future holds, how going to a blog conference may be more feasible two or three years from now. I want to GO, I w

adventures in baby-led weaning

When I decide to do something I do it full force, all out, with spirit and soul.  So when we switched over to baby led weaning a couple days ago I decided to do so with abandon. This afternoon my mom and I went out to lunch after an appointment.  B came along, of course, and he was fussy because he didn't take a good morning.  We ate at a new cafe, it was a trendy modern concrete box of a place which someone set down across from the hospital where Charlotte died.  A really random place for it, but hey, it's wine country, it works. We asked for a high chair, but they seated us in a booth and it just didn't work.  I was like, really, you want me to put my baby, who manages to twist and contort himself enough I worry every time I stick him in one of these things, three feet below my seat?  Only I'm polite so I just asked for a booster seat.  Yeah, like that was going to work. As soon as the food came (turkey avocado sandwiches) Bennett decided to dig in.

8 months!

I'm a week late on this, it was one of a thousand details I let slip through my fingers as Charlotte's birthday approached. Bennett is so busy, I spend a lot of my time making sure he doesn't motor out the front/back door, down the stairs, up the stairs, over the dog, under the dog ... you get the idea.  Kid is crazy busy.  Here he is stuck on his toy basket.  He made it down, eventually. He can pull himself to a stand now too.  He likes to do it in the bath.  I feel a heart attack coming on every time I see him scaling the tub walls with his letter of the night (we bought him a letter/numbers set for the bath) clenched between his teeth.  Just last week I was able to set him in the bath and play with his toys, splash around with him.  Now I have to keep my hands up at all times, ready to catch him when he goes over. We still haven't tackled solids.  If someone wants to take over this portion of Bennett's upbringing, call me.  Bananas, carrots, broccoli

lavender, lilies

Thank you for the love, everyone.  My heart is blessed, we were uplifted as a family on a very difficult day. It was so strange to be intensely sad again, to feel overwhelmed by grief, like I couldn't get my head above water.  Today isn't magically better, it doesn't work like that, but at least I'm treading water again, and it feels like the shore is near if I just float a bit longer. It was so strange to be attached to my phone again.  To check for emails and text messages in the middle of the night.  After Charlotte died I would wake in the middle of the night, reach for my phone, scroll through old comments, read new ones.  Comments seem so insubstantial, just a few lines, an acknowledgement, a nod, a hug, but they are lifelines in this mess. It was so strange to drive through the west side of town yesterday.  Down the hill, the sun beating through the windshield.  I glanced at the clock, my stomach rolled - 4:30.  Two years ago I was in the same spot at the

scenes from our weekend

Mother's Day Charlotte's Day