MIA

I know I've been MIA lately, but I just don't have anything interesting to say.

This Christmas just didn't even seem like Christmas. I didn't have much Christmas spirit, that's for sure. Now that Christmas has passed I actually feel better. December 21st came and went and I didn't even notice (that's the day I found out I was pregnant). I can not believe it's been two years.

My husband and I are going away for New Years. The past two New Years have really sucked for us (actually more than the past few!). Two years ago I was pregnant and bleeding, and stuck in bed. Last year our cat was dying and we spent all day at the vet, then we fell asleep and missed our party. This year I'm determined to make it a good New Years! DETERMINED.

I'm looking forward to going away and spending time alone with my husband.

2009 was a better year than 2008 (which wasn't hard becase 2008 was, undoubtedly, the worst year of my life!), but I'm hoping that 2010 is even better.

Have a happy and safe New Years everyone.

LOCKS OF LOVE

http://www.locksoflove.org/

MERRY CHRISTMAS

I wanted a way to recognize Brenna on our Christmas cards again this year. I wasn't sure how to do that, so I ended up putting a dragonfly next to our names. I'm sure I will incorporate it into our cards every year.

BABY WEEK

I think this past week was baby week. I can count at least four "rainbow" babies that were born last week. If I got back a month or so, there are tons that were born. I am happy for every single person who got to bring home a baby. That goes without saying. But after while, I just got... I don't know... sick of hearing about it, I guess. I was tired of congratulating. Tired of well-wishing. It was the same thing over and over. They have what I want. Even though I am truely happy for them, I'm tired of sharing in everyone else's joy. I know that's not very "Christmas-y" of me. But I'm just being honest. I don't even have anything to write these days. I am becoming a Grinch.

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET

It's Sunday, and checking out Post Secret has become part of my Sunday ritual. Enjoy!

A PIG A DAY

I collect these figurines. My mom started buying them for me years ago. They don't make them anymore, but I still have a pretty large collection.

Everyday this week, my son has given me a new figurine. The best part is that a lot of thought was put into the figurine selected. Monday's figurine was called "This Little Piggy Ate Roast Beef" and has a pig with a big sub sandwich. It made me laugh because I knew why they bought it. My son and I like to go to lunch at our favorite sub place. He always gets the beef.

My week has been horrible, but I can't help but feel loved.

THE SHOE HAS DROPPED

Wow. Remember when I said I was waiting for the other shoe to drop? Well, it has. This month is horrible!

My brother-in-law's house burned down on Sunday night. It was a beautiful old farmhouse that had been in the family for more than 100 years. Their three cats died. No one else was hurt, thank God, but they lost everything. It was heartbreaking to feel so helpless. There was nothing to do but watch it burn.

Not that any of my problems compare to that, but this week month has just plain sucked.

I had an emergency at work and my boss didn't answer so I ended up having to go into work at 2 am Monday morning. I hadn't slept, and I was totally exhausted and pissed.

My husband's car took a dump. It's going to cost too much to fix it. He's not working right now, so it looks like we will be a one car family for awhile.

My washing machine (which we just bought a few years ago) burned up over the weekend.

Oh, and our Christmas tree feel down- twice- yesterday. The ornament for my husband's parents (who are both deceased) broke.

This is just what has happened since friday. Seriously!

The other shoe has dropped!

MOVING ON

It seems that everyone is moving on. Except me. Almost every single person I met on babycenter or who's blog I read has went on to have another baby. People who didn't think they would ever carry another child, have went on to have healthy babies.

While I truely do feel joy for them, I can't help but feel jealous. I can't have that.

While I really am greatful for my job, I can't help but think every now and then that I shouldn't be working. I should be home with a one year old.

When I look at my son I feel incredible guilt that he does not have a sibling close in age. I feel like he's been robbed of something special.

I do not know why this Christmas is so hard for me. You would think the the first Christmas would have been the hardest. But this Christmas is brutal. I have been missing Brenna more than ever lately.

It feels like everyone is moving one without me.

I'M STILL HERE

I just don't have much to say these days. I'm not feeling very full of the Christmas spirit. My birthday is coming up. I'm just feeling blah, and I'm not much fun lately.

SINGING

I recently realized that I don't sing in the car anymore. It used to be that whenever I was in the car by myself I would sing my heart out. If I was mad, belting out a song helped me feel better. If I was nervous, singing would help me relax. If I was happy, it made me happier.

I am by no means a good singer. In fact, I suck.

I still enjoyed singing in the car.

But I don't sing anymore. Not since I lost my baby.

Tomorrow, on my way to work, I'm turning up the radio and singing my little heart out!

JUST WONDERING

Is everyone pregnant? Because it seems that everyone I know is pregnant right now. It also seems that at least half of those were "accidents". WTF!?!

THE OTHER SHOE

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. The last time I was this content with my life was the day before all hell broke loose with Brenna. I remember going to bed on Monday March 3rd, and thinking how lucky we were. I actually remember thinking my life was damn near perfect. The next day I woke up sick, by nightfall I was dying.

It hasn't been the same since.

But, lately, life is good. I am content. I have come to terms with the fact that I probably will never carry another child. I don't love it. But I'm OK with it. I like my job (Just got a promotion even- and a raise!). My son is doing well is school. My stepdaughter and grandson have moved back to our state. Things are just great.

So I am nervous. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. The last time I felt like this it was ripped away from me. I'm afraid to be content again. It scares me. I don't want to lose it again.

An updated on my niece: she had the baby Wednesday night. They had a memorial for her yesterday. She chose to have a small, private memorial so I didn't go. I still haven't spoken to her yet.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

FULL CIRCLE

When my son was little I would take him on frequent trips back to my home town. The other day we were driving by a restaurant, and he told me he remembered the sign*:

He said he remembered how when he was little he'd tell me that the guy was a "bad boy" because he was shooting people. We laughed about it, because I remember that too.

Yesterday we were driving with my four year old grandson Mason. We drove past that sign, and Mason saw it a block away. "Look at that guy" he said "he's pointing guns at people. That's not nice." I looked at my son and he had a smile on his face. A moment later Mason said, "That guy is a bad boy, isn't he?" I looked over at my son who looked over at me and we smiled to each other.

It was a really great moment.

*I googled this picture, and I can't believe I actually found it!

HIGHLIGHT OF MY DAY

Me: Mom, your dog smells like you (meaning her perfume)
My mom: Well what do I smell like?
My son: You smell good.
My mom: Like what, cookies?
My son: No. You smell like... love.

FIGHT FOR PREEMIES

Today I am joining with Bloggers Unite to blog about a subject very close to my heart. I'm supposed to blog about a baby that I love.

Today I'm going to tell you not about my baby that came too soon, but about my baby that came late.

I was 19 when I found out I was pregnant. I remember when the nurse exclaimed "You're pregnant!" to me over the phone. I couldn't speak. Dead silence. I remember before I had my blood drawn I kept wishing, even praying, that I wasn't pregnant. It just seemed like the worst thing that could happen.

In all honesty my boyfriend and I had only been dating about seven months. I barely knew him, really. He was a great guy, but I wasn't sure I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. I was only 19 after all. I petrified to tell him. When I did he seemed happy, but I knew deep down he was freaking out like I was.

I was especially afraid to tell my mom. She got pregnant for me when she was 18, and I knew that wasn't what she wanted for me. Especially when I hadn't been dating my boyfriend that long, and especially because he was 35 years old and had a 9 year old daughter! Not exactly the dream you envision for you teenage daughter.

My mom was mad, but she quickly got over it. I'm sure she was just trying to make the best of it.

I had a relatively uneventful pregnancy. We never did find out the gender, but I knew it was a boy. I read stories about women who loved every minute of being pregnant. I was not one of those women. Although I was excited to be pregnant, I did not like the aches and pains that pregnancy brought. I especially did not like it when I watched my due date come and go with no sign of labor. Then the next week. Then the next. I was ready for the baby to come, but he had other plans. Apparently my uterus was quite comfy in those days, because I ended up have to be induced when I was 42 weeks pregnant.

I honestly don't remember much about labor. I think I've blocked it all out. I remember looking at my mom and asking her, "Why didn't you tell me it hurt this much!?!" She said, "Would that have stopped you?" Good point, but I didn't find the humor in it at that moment. I was so shocked by the pain of labor (sorry if I'm scaring anyone!) that I forgot about epidurals, drugs, everything. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep through it. Didn't work, but I tried. I'm told I did ask for an epidural when I was about 10 centimeters dilated, but obviously they wouldn't give it to me then. I don't remember that.

All I remember is the doctor tell me I could push. I remember feeling his hairy little head when it was crowning. I remember seeing his body come out of me, and it all felt surreal. A human being was coming out of my vagina. I could not wrap my head around it. Honestly, I still can't believe it.

And then, there he was.

My son. I instantly fell in love with him. It was instant. I was not prepared to love him as much as I did. I knew I'd love him, but I didn't know I'd fall in love with him. It was an immense feeling I'd never felt before.


He was born without a name. We still didn't have one picked out. That night, after everyone had left, we thought about names and picked out Brendan. It was a name we both liked. His middle name was Jack, after his grandfather who had died the summer before.


I loved being a stay at home mom. I look back on those days as the best days of my life. I loved every minute of those days. His father and I got married. (We just celebrated out eleventh wedding anniversary.) It was not all sunshine and rainbows the entire time. There were good times and bad, but it's true what they say: you forget the bad. I don't really remember the times I was sleep deprived, or deathly ill, or angry. I remember the times we laughed, the sweet times, the love we felt.


I fondly remember when Brendan was a baby I would think ahead, to when he would be twelve and not being able to picture it. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have a 12 year old.


Well, here we are, 12 years later.

I never pictured my son would have longer hair then me! I didn't know he'd have a love for music, or be a math wiz. I couldn't imagine that he'd have a great sense of humor.



I guess that's the part of motherhood I didn't expect: the unexpected. We have dreams for our children, but they have thier own dreams. The hardest part of being a mom (for me at least) has been having to let go and let him spread his wings. I want to keep him little forever.



But he'll always be my baby.

Today, while I think about him, and my other baby Brenna, I will also think about the other babies who, like Brenna, were born too soon. Please join me in the fight for preemies.

BLOGGERS UNITE

This year I will be participating in the Bloggers Unite Fight For Preemies on November 17th. I invited you to join also. Click on the link below for more info.

LIFE GOES ON

Like it or not life goes on. When I started this blog it was about my struggle to move on after the stillbirth of my daughter. I was heart broken, and kept thinking of what life was going to be like without her. I named my blog Living Without Brenna because that was what I was doing. A year and a half later I am still living without her.

But life goes on.

Now I find that I don't always blog about Brenna. I find myself blogging about what's going on in my life, my thoughts on certain topics, my family, personal stories. I like the fact that I can look back over the past year or so and see what I was doing and when I was doing it. I've written things that I never would have remembered if I hadn't written them here. I can go back and read them and I instantly remember it happening.

This is my online journal.

My online journal. It's not always about baby loss. But it is about my life. My life without Brenna. Everything that happens to me will happen without her. I don't feel confined to write solely about her life/death and my feelings about it just because I started writing when she died. I write about my life. I share it publicly because I hope someone will read this and realize that life does go on. But it is my blog. I write what I want and I won't apologize for it. I've had several (what Aunt Becky would call) "trolls" lately. Anonymous commenters (or emailers) who feel the need to point out my poor spelling and/or personality traits. I've always allowed anonymous comments, and I will continue to. I don't make a habit of deleting comments, and I probably won't.

But the fact of the matter is that this is my blog, and if you don't like what I'm writing about you don't have to read it. While I welcome everyone's opinions, I certainly don't appreciate the notion that just because I had a stillborn child that is all I can blog about.

Because life goes on. I am more than just a deadbabymama.

SWEET REVENGE

When I was 16 I had a serious boyfriend. His name was "Don" and he was a total prick. I apparently had a thing for "bad boys" which turned out to be what I would now call "losers". Don was one of these. He skipped school. Smoked pot. Had no curfew. All the things that scared the shit out of my mother.

Don also expected sex. If he didn't get laid in the first month he'd dump the girl. I made it very clear from day one that he wasn't getting that from me. (And he didn't!) I don't know if he saw that as a challenge or if he really had feelings for me, but he stayed with me for a long time, even though we weren't having sex (or anything even close to sex!).

Around this same time I rekindled a friendship with my oldest friend. We had went to the same preschool together, then the same private school, and ended up at the same high school. We grew up a few blocks apart, and I have many memories of playing with her as a child. We rode the same bus, and many times I'd go to her house after school. Her name was "Candy". We started hanging out more and more, and had fun together.

One day I was riding with my step-dad to pick up my mom from work. I remember it clear as day: We drove past Candy's house and as we pass it I see Candy and Don kissing on her front porch. I calmly asked my step-dad to pull over. He pulled into the next driveway. I got out of the car. As soon as Candy saw me she ran in the house. Don came towards me and tried to laugh it off. I can't remember what I said, but I'm sure it wasn't nice. I basically told him I hated him. I broke up with him, got back in the car and ordered my poor step-dad to drive away.

Don tried to call me and make up. We'd broken up and got back together 100 times like you do when you're in high school. This time I just wouldn't budge. The only reason she had even met him was because of me, and they had probably onlytalked 5 times. I was really hurt that she did that to me. She was someone I knew since I was three years old. I didn't talk to her either.

Until about a month later when she called me in the middle of the night. She cried to me that he had hit her. That he was mean to her. That all her wanted was sex. I listened to her, and was nicer than I should have been. I didn't talk to her all summer after that.

When our junior year began it was obvious that Candy was pregnant. She ended up having a boy before the year ended. I even remember what she named him. I can't remember much about her after that. I don't even know if she graduated with our class. I know Don didn't. I don't even think he started junior year. I didn't see him for the rest of high school.

The summer after I graduated I saw him. I was working in a bar. It was the hottest bar in the area. People would be lined up around the block to get it. I thought I was pretty hot shit. One night I was working and I saw Don. I couldn't believe he was there. When he saw me his face actually lit up and he came over to say hi like we were old friends. I asked him how he got in and he bragged he had a fake ID. He kept trying to talk to me, and I blew him off. I went and told one of the bouncers that he and his friend had fake ID's. Their whole group got thrown out. He kept saying "Why are you doing this?" I finally said, "Because I hate you!" Someone from his group ended up getting into a fight in the bar parking lot. The police got called and two of them got arrested.

It was the sweetest revenge I ever experienced.

TEAM LEFTY

I am so happy to share with you all that Jen's son little Cooper has made it into this world safe and sound.

I remember the first time I read Jen's story back in August of last year. She had suffered a rupture, just like I had. She holds a special place in my heart. We both only have one fallopian tube, the left one, and we jokingly call ourself Team Lefty. :)

Welcome to the world little man, a lot of people have been waiting for you.

I WANT TO BE A "J"

I have a friend that I work with, I will call her "J". She is one of my favorite people in the world. She is so upbeat and happy. She's a honest person. Hard worker. She doesn't have a lot in life, but she is happy with what she has. I just really like her a lot.

Her husband has terminal cancer. In fact, he has end stage cancer, and will probably not be here for Christmas. She is (obviously) broken up over this, and my just breaks for her. Due to a bunch of red tape he lost his life insurance, and now she is going to have to pay for his funeral as well. An expense she didn't foresee.

Even with all of this, she comes to work with a smile on her face. Telling jokes and making everyone around her laugh. She is a true joy to be around. I want to be more like her.

My work is holding a fundraiser for her next week. I think it is the least we can do for her.

Would you please keep J and her husband in your prayers. Hospice has come in to administer pain meds for him. They have a very rough few weeks ahead of them.

TOOT-TOOT!

I usually go grocery shopping on the weekends. It seems that everyone in the free world is shopping at my local grocery store on the weekends, so I don't like to go shopping on the weekends. Unfortunately, this is the only time I have, so lately I've been going late at night. I've also been dragging my husband with me. We like to go late at night because the 24-hour Store is almost empty at, say, 11 p.m. Works for me. In and out.

A few weeks ago we were shopping late at night. We hadn't seen any other shoppers, and had the place to ourselves. I was picking out a spaghetti sauce, which is a task I take pretty seriously. My husband came down the isle behind me, just as I reach up to a high shelf and let a huge fart rip. I wasn't that worried about it because no one else was around us. "Wow!" I said "That was disgusting!" A second later it began to smell. "Ew! What did I eat!?!" I laughed a little laugh, and concentrated on my spaghetti sauce. "What kind do you like?" I asked my husband. He didn't answer me and I turned around and asked him again. There, looking at me with horror, was a man I had never seen before. I face instantly turned red. "Oh, I'm sorry" I said "I thought you were my husband." As if shitting my pants is OK as long as my husband is around! He didn't say anything to me, just starred at me. I abandoned the spaghetti sauce and ran down the isle to my husband who had no idea what had just happened. Of course we ran into that guy two more times, and I couldn't even look him in the eye.

COLLAGE

Thank you Franchesca for making this for my girl.

IT WASN'T ENOUGH

I only had 75 days with her.



It took my awhile to find out I was pregnant, because the thought seemed so crazy to me. I hadn't even considered it. It wasn't until she was making me vomit every second of every day that I realize I may have a baby in there.



I did.



75 days later, I didn't.



I don't cry everyday anymore, but I still cry.



It just doesn't seem fair.



I am happy with my life right now, but I can't help but think that it shouldn't be like this. It should be different. She should be here. If she was here, life would be very different right now. I can't help but think that.



75 days just isn't long enough.

HAPPY SWEETEST DAY

(Does everyone celebrate Sweetest Day or is that something we celebrate only here in the North?)

"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out." - Roy Croft

"Whatever our souls are made of, mine and his are the same." - Emily Bronte

BRENNA...

I'm remembering you today, as always.

OCTOBER

I'm still here. I just don't have much to say these days.

I'm sure it's because October 15th is tomorrow, but I've been missing Brenna lately. I find myself actually feeling angry that some terrible people have 10 kids easily, and some good people can't have one. I am having a hard time with it, and I think it will always be something I struggle with.

My friend K's husband is not doing well. He is off the vent, but the doctors are not very hopeful that he will have any sort of qu.ality of life. My heart is broken for her. It's strange. Four months ago when her babies were born I would have switched places with her in a second. Now I wouldn't want to take her place in a million years. Funny how life changes in the blink of an eye.

I'll be thinking of you and your babies tomorrow. I will be lighting a candle at 7pm, and thinking of all of you.

MOURNING

How long are you supposed to mourn? This is something we have all thought about. Will something always remind us and make the wound fresh again? Is this always going to be a part of me? Is this how I am now? Forever?

Today I'm going to direct you over to Heather's Dad. He said it better than I ever could.

SHAME ON ME

Shame on me for not saying Thank You earlier. I've been wanting to thank Crystal Theresa for remembering Brenna. It was such a thoughtful thing she did for us. It really touched my heart.

THANK YOU!

THE SEARCH IS OVER

I finally found a car. We picked it up yesterday. I didn't really want a red car, because I owned a red car for two years and I recieved 3 speeding tickets (once I wasn't even speeding- honestly!). I've owned my silver car for 5 years and got zero speeding tickets. (Even though I speed way more often now than I did then!). While I love the color, it wasn't my first choise. But this car had everything I wanted (and then some) and the price was right. I couldn't pass it up.

Isn't it funny how a thing like a car can just make your day week?

SHADOW BABIES AND TACO SALADS

I ate a taco salad today. I haven't eaten one since I was pregnant with Brenna. I distinctly remember my husband bringing it home for me, and me telling him how much the baby liked taco salad.

After I lost her I couldn't eat one.

I ate one at work today. Sitting at my desk, all I could think about was the last time I ate one. The last time when she was still with me.

Before I entered deadbabyland I had never heard the term Shadow Baby. I had no idea what it meant. For those of you lucky enough not to know, a Shadow Baby is a baby/child in your life that is close in age to what your child would have been. For most women it's the child of someone with whom they were pregnant at the same time. The child that lived when theirs didn't.

My shadow baby is a boy. I think that makes it easier.

His mother and I were due literally two weeks apart.

She sent flowers to Brenna's funeral.

When I saw her, a month before our due date (Did I just say our?) I could barely look at her. It killed me to see her. It was a Fourth of July party. I ended up drinking too much, and crying all the way home.

I didn't go to her baby shower.

When she had him, I was happy he was born alive and healthy. They were over the moon in love with him. I couldn't blame them.

The first few times I saw him I could barely look at him. I put a smile on my face, and died inside. "Want to see him" his aunt asked me. I shook my head no. She looked at me knowingly, and said she was sorry. I felt like an ass.

He came to our family Easter this year, which was weird because he's not family. I was pissed at them. I was mad that they were bringing him without any acknowledgement of my feelings. They should know. But, it was my problem- not theirs. I had to accept this baby as a part of my life. I couldn't avoid him forever. I should not, could not expect people to tip toe around me forever!!!! It was ridiculous for me to feel that way, and I knew it. But I couldn't help feeling like it should be her first Easter and instead he was the center of attention. I didn't hold him that day, but I did touch his foot. Yes, I remember that. I know it's ridiculous, but I remember it well.

It wasn't until Memorial Day that I saw him again. I held him this time. It was painfully easier than I anticipated.

I saw him this past Fourth of July. He was laughing, and happy. It reminded me of what I was missing. What she would be doing.

I think he will always remind me.

AM I THE ONLY ONE?

I'll be laying in my bed, either just falling asleep or just waking up, and then it hits me. Out of no where.

My baby is dead.

I was pregnant last year.

I had a baby growing happily inside of me.

And she died.

It jolts me awake, and I can't shake the feeling of disbelief.

I can't believe that a year and a half later this still happens to me.

CAN I ASK YOU ABOUT BRENNA?

We were once close friends. We met in high school, and had some great times together. After graduation our lives took different paths. I had a baby, she went to college. She was the maid of honor in my wedding. We've stayed in contact, but have drifted apart over the last few years. When you have a baby at a young age it's a strain on the friendships with your childless friends. We had fun when we were together, but we really didn't have anything in common anymore. We still talked, but not everyday- or even every month!

I sent her an email when I lost Brenna. I let her know what happened. I tried to tell her how serious it was. Her response? "Sorry to hear that". When I next saw her I had just had my tattoo done, and showed her Brenna's name on my foot. She didn't even comment on it. It was painfully awkward.

It would be a year before I saw her again. This time at her wedding. (To a man I had never met). She looked fabulous. We talked for awhile. The friendship was still there. Like we hadn't missed anything. I realized I missed her.

She sent me an email a few months ago. "I wanted you to know. I'm pregnant. We're not telling people yet, but I wanted you to know." I congratulated her. I was truly happy for her. I am happy for her. She's waited a long time for this.

Last week she asked me, "Can I ask you about Brenna?" I said "Of course". She told me she's been thinking about her a lot these days. Now that she's pregnant. Now that she knows what it's like. She told me she has been looking at Brenna's pictures on my facebook. She asked me a lot of questions. I told her the whole story. We talked for a long time, and it felt good.

I suppose I should be angry at her. Bitter that she didn't acknowledge my pain. Didn't offer a shoulder to cry on. Ignored the whole situation. I should have cut her out of my life long ago.

But, I can't. It's not her fault that she doesn't know. If the tables were reversed I can't say I would have known what to say. I doubt I would have rushed to her side. Unless you've been there you have no idea what it's like. I can't fault her for not knowing what to say or do. She didn't mean to be heartless- she just didn't know!

And I hope she never does.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

Today is our Anniversary. I can not believe we've been married this long. I still remember the first day I met my future husband. I honestly had no idea I would one day marry him.

Our life together has not been perfect. At times it's been down right horrible. But we've always stuck together. Pushed through. I had someone recently ask me how we managed to stay together and be happy when there were so many things against us. I didn't know what the answer was. Now that I think about it, I think I know:

Divorce has never been an option. There was a time when things were not well. I really thought about leaving. Once I decided that was not something I was willing to do, then I had to look for ways to fix the things that were wrong in our relationship. It didn't happen overnight. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. But it worked. When we both committed to fixing our problems, we found solutions.

I treat my husband like a stranger. If I bumped into a stranger in the store, I'd say "Excuse me". If someone I didn't know picked up something I dropped I'd tell them "Thank you". I was surprised at how many people didn't do those things for their spouses. I think it's sad to see people treat strangers better than they treat their own family! I just don't understand it. If my husband does something for me I tell him thank you. If I accidental ram into him with the cart I tell him I'm sorry. I'm polite to him, and he is to me. It's really not that big of a deal, but you'd be surprised how many people don't do it. (Perfect example of this: Kate Gosselin. I used to watch that show and wonder why her husband put up with the way she spoke to him. She spoke down to her husband in a way that she would never have done to a stranger. I was not surprised when they separated.)

I learned it's OK to be wrong. This was a big one for me. For some reason I had this thing were I always had to be right. Even if I was wrong, and I knew I was wrong, I couldn't admit it. It took a long time (and lots of arguments) for me to realize it's OK to be wrong. I remember the first time I admitted I was wrong. I don't remember what I was wrong about, but I remember my husband's reaction. He paused for a minute. And we didn't fight. I admitted my wrong doing so there wasn't anything to fight about. But I remember that pause. Now I will fess up to my mistakes. I don't always like it. I don't always willingly do it. But I will admit it. It has made life a lot easier.

Our marriage is far from perfect. We have our arguments. (Although, I have to say I can't remember the last time we really had a fight.) Sometimes we drive each other insane. I tend to think part of the reason we lasted this long is because my husband is very patient with me. I honestly can't imagine anyone else putting up with me like he does. For that I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Happy Anniversary, Honey. I love you more each and every day.

HAVE YOU SEEN AUNT FLO?

Have you seen my Aunt Flo? Because I seem to have lost her. She has been coming later and later these days. It is driving me insane. The anxiety of why this is happening, coupled with the 10-day-PMS-a-thon and you have one very unhappy Holli. And my husband isn't so happy either.

On the plus side my insurance is totalling my car! We don't owe anything on it, so I will be able to buy a new (to me) car and not have a payment. :)

MY WEEK

My week went something like this:

Worked a 50 hour work week.

Went school clothes shopping where I had to force my son to pick something out. Anything! "You can't go to school naked" I reminded him about 100 times. I took him to American Eagle and told him he could pick out anything he wanted. He picked out two tee shirts. I hated them both.

Bought myself a pair of Nike Shox. I thought they would be weird to wear, but actually they are pretty comfy. Especially when I have to be on my feet all day.

Gave all three dogs a bath. Blow dried two of them.

I went to the drive-in movies with my husband, son, and grandson. We saw two movies. One was G-Force, the other Post Grad. I have no idea why they were showing these movies together because Post Grad was obviously not a movie for kids. But by the Post Grad showed the little guy was asleep, and our 12 year old has probably heard worse things on TV so it wasn't horrible. I wouldn't watch either of those movies again by the way.

Switched cell phone providers. Let's see if I like this one.

As previously posted I hit a deer, or rather, a deer hit me.

Checked out new cars (see above).

Nursed the wound on one of my dogs. She got into a fight with a skunk. The skunk won. Not only did she stink, she has a would on her leg. Poor baby, I feel so bad for her. She was trying to protect our chickens. Pepe La Pew wanted to eat them.

Ate an entire jar of kalamata olives in one day.

Watched two other movies on Video On Demand: State of Play and Duplicity. I like these movies significantly better than the ones was saw at the drive in.

Slept in until 10 am for the past three days.

Looked at about 30 new blogs. I really miss blog-surfing!

Cleared out my Google Read, and my in box. Both were in the 300's.

Right now, I'm eating a few cheez-its while I type this. Then I'm headed to bed.

Nighty-night!

BABY JET

My heart is literally breaking right now. Please offer words of encouragement to Mirne and Craig, who lost thier third child today. Jethro Craig Wilhelm, Baby Jet, died this morning. He never even made it home from the hospital.

This is the worst nightmare of every single one of us in deadbabyland.

I'M SAD FOR ME

While in Chicago I had a revelation.

I was taking a break at one of the many museums we went to. My husband and son had run off together to do something fantastic that I wasn't interested in. While I waited for them to come back I just stood back and watched people. I saw lots of cute kids running around. I began to think about what it would be like to have another baby. I was thinking about what another baby would look like. Just then an adorable kid with the curliest hair I've ever seen came walking by. I thought to myself, "I want Brenna to have hair like that." That thought was quickly followed by "What did I just say?"

It dawned on me that I was not thinking about another baby. I was thinking about her. When I picture myself having another baby I actually picture her. Right then and there I realized that my want for another baby was actually more about wanting her. If I am really honest, I have to admit that one of the reasons I want another baby is because I think it will fill the hole that losing her created. It's not easy or fun to admit that. But it is the truth.

While I'm at it I must also admit that I am selfish. When I am sad about Brenna's death, I'm sad for me, not her. I know she is OK. I am sad because I want her here with me. And that is so selfish. But I am only human. I have always wanted a baby girl. I had dreams for her. I was over the moon when I found out I was pregnant. When she died it was the lowest point of my life. I lost those dreams. I was sad for me, because I would never see those dreams fulfilled.

I've been on this grief ride for a long time now. I know how it works. When you think you're fine you realize you aren't. When you think you can't take it anymore, you realize you can. Lately, I've been thinking about her alot. I'm not sure why. Nothing has happened to make me miss her more.

I just do.

BACK HOME

We are back from Chicago. I really need this week off. It was good to get away and just relax. So much better. We packed a lot of things into those few days. We were tourists to the max, and hit every tourist trap in Chicago.

A few times I caught myself watching other families with toddlers. I wondered how our vacation would be different if we had a one-year-old with us. When we were waiting to board our train they let families with small children board first. I was angry because we should have been boarding with them. But we weren't. It didn't spoil my mood or anything. We still had fun. But I still thought about it plenty of times.

Deadbabyland is a shitty, shitty place to be.

LUCY

Today, I remember Olive Lucy.

COUNTRY GIRL

Growing up I didn't like anything about the country. I hated dirt, I didn't like horses, and I liked being in a neighborhood. When my mom married my stepdad we moved from the middle of the city to a subdivision outside of the city. It might as well have been 500 miles away. I didn't like being away from my friends. I missed sidewalks.

When I met my future husand I was 18, living on my own. In the city. I liked it.

He told me he grew up in the country. It was a place I had never even heard of. I had no idea what or where he was talking about. Even when he took me to visit I still didn't know where it was. All I knew is that there wasn't even a stop light in his home town, and what they called The Grocery Store had the same things in stock as 7-11 (By the way- there wasn't a 7-11 for miles!). To say I wasn't impressed would be an understatment.

Then my (future) father in law had a stroke. And he died. My mother in law was left on the farm, and she needed help. My husband had a home next door to her's that he usually rented out. But, as luck would have it, the tenants had just moved out and it was empty. So we moved in "for six months" to help her with the "animals" (read: sheep. Yes, sheep.)

Thirteen years later we are still here, and the sheep have been eaten.

My first few months years here were not easy. I longed for my old life. Especially when I was pregnant. I missed my family. I didn't really know anyone, and the people I did know I didn't click with. We had zero in common. My high school had four times as many people as the entire population of the town we live in. It was a major adjustment.

Then my son started school, and I met people I had things in common with. I got involved in several committees. I started to embrace the country for it's positives. I loved the fact that my son could play outside all day and I didn't have to worry about him. My stepdaughter couldn't fart without it getting back to me before she got home. (Everyone knew everyone, and everything about everyone.) I actually started to like it.

Today, my friends, I am here to tell you that while I miss the city (and I suspect I always will) I like my life here in the country.

We have chickens. Fresh eggs everyday.

I have a pet pot belly pig.

We have a fantastic garden.

We have a great views. In the winter and summer.

Never in a million years would I have pictured myself living in the country. But, I have to say that this is where I really think I am meant to be.

IT'S BEEN SO LONG

We went to a wedding this past weekend. About 6 years ago, the groom's best friend was killed in a car accident. I remember it well, because he was friends with my stepdaughter, and she called home in tears the night he died.

I did not know the boy's mother at the time, but I have recently met her. We were at a function together this summer, and she started talking about her son. I saw the uncomfortable looks of the people around us. I ignored them. She shared her story about her son. She bragged about him as if he was still alive. The other people in the group shifted in their seats, clearly uneasy. I know the look from experience. We talked about her son, and I purposely asked questions about him.

The thing that strikes me about this boy and his best friend (the groom) is that the groom has never forgotten him. Even all these years later, he still remembers him in everything he does. At the wedding they played a song for him (one of many) and the DJ announced it was for TZ (his initials). It wasn't a sad, slow song like one would expect. It was a dance song, and I thought it was fitting. His mom was sitting at the table next to me, and as soon as they said TZ I looked over at her. The song begins with no real music, just the words "It's been so long. That I haven't seen your face. I'm trying to be strong. But the strength I have is washing away." As soon as the first words were sung, she lifted her head up and closed her eyes. As if those words were painful and healing at the same time. I knew what she was feeling. I knew she was thinking about her son all night long. I knew that she was thinking how she would never be at his wedding. I knew it was painful. In the middle of the song she turned to her husband and said, "I want to go home". My heart just broke for her. But I also know that she knows how loved her son was, and I know that must bring her great comfort.

LIFE

I have not been around much these past few weeks. I'm just working, and things have been crazy.


I'm loving have the new puppy. It's like having a baby in the house. She is a pure joy, and so well behaved. Everyone marvels at how well behaved she is. Even my old Daisy has taken to her. They've started playing which, if you knew Daisy, is huge. She has never liked puppies, but she loves Rosie.


We are going to Chicago for a few days next week. I love Chicago, and can't wait to go back. We're taking the train, which I've never done before, so that should be an experience. Tickets and hotel are booked, so we are ready. (My mom is watching the dogs).


My husband is on a laundry strike. He read this post. I didn't even know he really read my blog to be honest with you. I figured he'd never even see that post. I didn't realize I said I "hated" the way he folds laundry. I guess I should clarify (in case he ever reads again!) that I am very particular about my clothes, and I like my laundry folded a certain way. He folds a different way. By all means if you are reading this, and have a need to wash clothes, don't let me stop you! :)


Lots has been happening. There have been a hundred times that something has happened and I find myself writing a post in my head about it, but I just don't have or take the time to write it out.


To make up for the most boring update of all time I will share this little nugget of my family.

Yes, that is my husband in a shell bra. I know you don't recognize me, but that is me there with the beautiful green fro. Let me explain. For the past ten years, a town in Michigan has been having the Cheeseburger Festival . This year's parade brought 60,000 people into a town of about 3,000. Seriously. We put together a float for my work, and drove up to the festival. I have never been there and did not know what to expect. Let me just say it was one of the funnest days I've had all summer. Even my (very) conservative mother got in on the festivities.
Thank God my son when home with her, because I ended up having to buy my husband a tee shirt because he lost his. He actually brought a blender from home, and ran it off a generator to make daquaris. (Classy, no?) The highlight of the day was when I slipped on bubble juice from our bubble machine and fell off the float. During the parade. It was pretty spectacular. I ate every kind of cheeseburger you can think of, not to mention cheeseburger soup! It was very, very fun, and we will deffinately be there again next year!

FORGET ME NOT

Sunday, the day after Brenna's due date, we went sight seeing since we were out of town for a family reunion. I browsed a little gift shop while my husband used the bathroom. A picture of dragonflies caught my eye. I took a minute to look at it, and it was a pad of paper with dragonflies all over it. There across the top it said, "Forget Me Not".

I'm not a big believer is "signs", but sometimes there is no doubt.

CAME AND WENT

Brenna's due date came and went without much notice. My period arrived, just as predicted.

I thought about the day a few times, but it was not nearly as awful as it was last year. It's amazing how time really does heal the heart. I did find myself thinking that we should have been celebrating her first birthday. I also skipped the first part of our family reunion- the part where we read last years minutes- because I knew they would be reading her name, and I didn't want to be there for the awkward silence that was sure to follow. I didn't shed one tear. I didn't really feel horribly sad. More, I felt like I was missing out on something. Missing out on her birthday, missing out on having a one-year-old running around. I let myself think for a second what camping with a one-year-old would have been like. I also thought about all the things we had done that weekend that we couldn't have done with a toddler in tow. But those are things that I think about during everyday life, it had nothing to do with the day.

After such a depressing post, here are a few vacation pictures to cheer you up!

Mackinaw Bridge, connects the Upper Penninsula and Lower Penninsula of Michigan.

My grandson and my husband's cousin.

Please excuse the wife-beater and long hair.

(The teen years are going to kill me!)

My Daisy dog has been to 10 famiy reunions!

This was Rosie's* first reunion (of many!) .

Grilling lakeside.

Just for fun!

*Did I mention that we changed Dolly's name to Rosie? Brendan came home from camp, and decided that she was a Rosie, so we changed it.

AUNT FLO MY OLD FRIEND

August 8th (8/8/08) was my original due date with Brenna. I was farther along than they thought, but I still think of August 8th as her due date.

Last year on her due date I started the most horrible period. Painful, heavy, horrible period. It was like Mother Nature was mocking me. Reminding me of what I didn't have.

This year my body is out of whack. I haven't had a period in six weeks (no, I'm most defiantly not pregnant). Right now I have PMS like you would not believe (my poor husband!). I know Aunt Flo is on her way. I have a feeling she's going to show up on Saturday, just to remind me again of what I don't have.

Wonderful.

DEAD

(Note: In case you don't remember my stepdaughter's mother died when she was young.)

A few days ago we were in the car with my son and grandson. Out of the blue my 3-year-old grandson blurts out "My mom's mom is dead." Something like that might have made me freeze up with awkwardness, but I know that wasn't the right thing to do. Instead I said, "She is? That's very sad. But she's in heaven." "Yes" he told me, "My dad told me that".

My husband and son didn't say a word, and I looked over at my husband in the driver's seat and he had tears in his eyes. He has had to deliver the most devastating news to the two women in his life: First, when he had to tell his daughter that her mother was gone. Then, years later, he had to tell his wife that their daughter was gone. I can't even imagine how horrible that was for him.

Before Brenna, I didn't realize how easy it was to be thrown back to that day. Now I know there are reminders everywhere. Looking at my husband I realized that when Mason talked about his grandma he would never know, it took my husband back to when she died. I reached over and held his hand, as tears slipped down his cheek.

Lily

Please take a moment to remember Lily on her birthday.

BUSY, BUSY, BUSY!

I chair a local festival, and it's happening this weekend. I am busier than you can imagine. I'm also feeling like crap, so it's making for a very loooong weekend. I have lots of things I want to share on here, I just can't seem to find the time to write them!

FOR MY HUBBY

So my husband read this post and thought some things were about him, and they weren't. So here are 10 14 Things I Wish I Would Say To My Husband But Haven't.



1. You are one of my most favorite people in the world.

2. I have never loved anyone like I love you, and I can't imagine that I ever would.

3. Sometimes you are a slob, and it really pisses me off.

4. I hate how you fold laundry. I wish you'd just wash dishes instead.

5. If I come home to find 10 loads of unfolded laundry laying on our bed (again!) I will hurt you.

6. Thanks for never saying anything about me gaining weight.

7. Sometimes I really don't treat you well, and then I get pissed at myself for it.

8. I love the way I laugh when I'm with you. It's a laugh that only you bring out of me, and I love that.

9. I'd rather go out with you than the girls. I have fun with you. I know some of my friends are jealous of that- and I like it that way!

10. When I first met you I never thought we'd date let alone get married!

11. I know that because of our age difference I will probably live a significant portion of my "golden years" without you. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

12. You are the one person in this world who has the ability to crush me beyond repair.

13. Losing a child brought us closer together. I didn't even know that was possible.

14. You still give me butterflies.

I'M STILL HERE

I just don't have anything to say lately. Instead, I will distract you will baby pictures!

A week and a half ago I went in to feed Brendan's chinchillas and I discovered the girl had a baby. I had no idea she was pregnant since she hasn't been with a male since she gave birth in March. Back then I seperated them right away like you are supposed to, but I guess I didn't do it fast enough because she popped out TWINS! They are so adorable. They are both small, but one is freakishly small. Of course, he's Brendan's favorite.

We're considering all names if you have any ideas.

MISS RILEY

Let me take a minute from my whine-fest to welcome Riley Grace to the world. After suffering two consecutive losses, her parents finally brought home their little girl. Take a minute to see how cute she is. Congrats to Mrs. Muelly (and Mr. Muelly too!).

THANK YOU, UNIVERSE

My son's been going to swimming lessons for the last five weeks. Today his instructor and I had this conversation:

Her: "It's funny. My name is almost like his. B-R-E-N-N-A. Brenna."

Me: Awkward silence where I try to appear normal.

Not quite a conversation, but painful as all hell.

Que tears that I fight off for the rest of the hour.

Couple that with the adorable little girl with blond ringlets and a pink bathing suit that I had to walk behind for five minutes out to the car and you have got yourself one very. shitty. day.

DEADBABYLAND SUCKS

I don't know why, but tonight I just can't stop crying. I'm hating envious of all the pregnant people I know IRL. Most days I'm OK with not having another baby, but some days (like today) I want nothing more.

I can't imagine living the rest of my life feeling this way.

FAMILY

When my uterus ruptured it was obviously a very serious medical emergency. I tend to be a mother hen, and even in the condition I was in, I was still worried about how my family members would take the news. Would they be OK?

My grandma was in the hosptial at the time with a heart problem. We were all worried that the news would (seriously) kill her. My mom waited a day to tell her, and then told her before she got discharged from the hospital because she was worried the news would make Grandma panic, and possibly cause her complications. Of course she was upset. We've always been close, and she was so excited to be having another great-grandbaby. (I never told her we planned on giving Brenna the middle name Louise, which is Grandma's middle name.) She took the news better than we expected, and she called me at the hospital. I was 50 miles away, so she couldn't come see me, but once she knew I was OK she felt better.

One of the other people I worried about was my youngest brother. He is a lot younger than I am, so I have always considered myself a second mom to him. I knew that this was going to affect him deeply. He worked third shift and couldn't come see me until Friday. He spent almost the whole day at the hospital. I could tell that he was very concerned, and that he was really hurting. He is very close with my son, and I knew that he was really excited about me having another baby. I also guessed that he was feeling guilty (even though he shouldn't have) because a few days before he had told me that he hoped I didn't have a girl because he wanted another nephew. Then she died, and you don't have to be Einstein to know that he was thinking about what he said to me. I showed her picture to him, and we talked about her, but really there wasn't anything I could do to make him feel better.

I was worried about him when he left. He has a history of drinking too much when he is in pain. When he said that he was going out that night I had a terrible feeling. It was confirmed the next day. I went home on Saturday. I can't remember if my mom told me Saturday or Sunday, but she called me and said, "I don't want to tell you this, but I know you'll be mad if I don't. J is in jail." I knew right away it was because he had gotten drunk the night before. I just knew it.

I won't go into details, but I will tell you he ended up getting tasered. He was on probation for a year and had to take alcohol classes and got to AA. It wasn't until nine months later that he finally admitted to me that at least part of the reason he drank so much that night was because he couldn't stop thinking about me dying. He had to go before the judge, and he was honest and told the judge what happened to me and that he didn't think he handled his feelings in the right way.

He's off probation now. He also has stopped drinking. I was suprised that he didn't even drink one beer on the 4th of July. (He even took my son home with him so JJ and I could go out!) He said it's just not worth it, and that he's found that when he's upset all it does is make things worse. I was really proud of him because I know how hard it's been for him. Especially in a family when no one else has a problem with alcohol. (He has a different biological father, and I honestly think it's genetic. There is alcoholism in that side of the family.) I know it's not an easy thing to admit to, and it's an even harder thing to do.

I like to think of that as at least one positive thing that's happened because of Brenna.

10 THINGS YOU WISH YOU COULD SAY

10 Things I wish I could say to people, but don't. I'm not going to tell you who the person is, just want I want to say.

1. I know, and I don't care. I understand why you did it, and I wish you would know that you can tell me. The only reason I don't bring it up is because I don't want to hurt you.

2. I think you are a bitch, and I don't trust you at all.

3. I worry that you aren't going to go to heaven.

4. I'm proud of our relationship. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments.

5. I'm afraid to live my life without you.

6. Your breath stinks. All the time.

7. I still love you. I'm afraid I always will.

8. I'm afraid that something I've done (or will do) will screw you up forever.

9. You are one of the nicest people I've ever met. Now, stop letting people take advantage of you!!!!

10. I am embarassed to know you.

OK. Now it's your turn!

NOW THAT HE'S DEAD IT'S OK TO LOVE HIM

If you know me IRL you know that I tend to have many opinions. I usually keep them to myself unless you ask, or unless the situation requires my intervention.

This whole Michael Jackson thing is one of those time I just can't keep my opinions to myself. I've tried. Let's face it, it's really none of my business, and I don't know him. All I know is what I read or see on TV (which has been A LOT these days).

I can't help but feel that since his death MJ has been turned into some sort of saint. It really bothers me that the same people who had convicted him in the media five years ago, are now singing his praises and crying for him on TV.

I'm not going to debate whether he was a child molester. The truth is I don't know- and neither do any of you. None of us were there. The crap you see on TV isn't enough to form an educated opinion on. (Although there are many things that make me wonder.)

All I do know is that MJ had a tragic life. I have no doubt that he was an abused child who didn't get a childhood. (His father used his death as a tool to promote a record lable! How sad.) I have no doubt that this damaged him in some way. He obviously had issues. It is not normal for a 44 year old man to sleep in the same bed as children and call it "charming". I don't care who you are- that is not normal.

But he did not live a normal life. He surrounded himself with people who would never tell him no. He could have whatever he wanted in this world, and there was never anyone to tell him it was wrong, or too much, or abnormal. He wanted a moneky, he got one. He wanted kids, he (in my opinion) bought them. I really think that he did not understand the normal boundaries that you and I understand.

I also think that he had a soft heart. I think he felt sorry for people who were less fortunate than he was. I truly feel that he did some wonderful things with his money. He knew what it was like to be abused. I think he connected with children who had suffered like he did. I do not think he knew how to be an adult. He was very child-like.

Would I trust him to be around my children?

Never.

Because I just don't know.

What I do know is that he lived the last 45 years under a microscope. He lived with abuse and ridicule that none of us could ever imagine. We salivated over stories of his strange life, and plastic surgery. We laughed at and mocked him. Even the birth of his children came under ridicule.

I don't think any of us could endure this and come out "normal".

I did not watch his memorial service. The only part I saw was his poor daughter Paris. Watching that made me realize that Michael Jackson was not just some weirdo we could laugh at. His children's life will never be the same. I couldn't help but think that if the stories are true, they are better off without him. My heart literally breaks for those children. Seeing his daughter break down, and the two boys in the background... the look on his youngest son's face brought tears to my eyes.

What didn't bring tears to my eyes is all the "celebrities" who stood up there and professed their love of MJ. These were the same people who avoided him like the plague just a few years ago. Now that he is dead, it's OK to love him again.

There is no doubt that Michael Jackson was a very talented man. I can't imagine what MTV would be like if it weren't for the Thriller video. He made a lasting impact on this world.

Not many people can say that.

Now, let's let Michael Jackson rest in peace, and focus our energy on some people who deserve it.

HAPPY 4th OF JULY

LET'S NOT REPEAT

I really don't want to have a repeat of last year where I drank too much and then cried all the way home after the fireworks. I don't understand why I was crying either, because that was one of the funnest nights in my life. Seriously, I still look at those pictures and laugh. We just had a ton of fun that night. I think it was the coming home part. I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to go back to my life. I was tired of being sad, and if you mix sad and alcohol... watch out. I am not a sad drunk, I am not a crier. It was very unusual for me, and I don't plan on repeating it. This year I just feel different. I'm happy. I have things I am looking forward too. Last year, I couldn't say that. I'm not even close to the person I was this time last year. I feel like the old me. I laugh all the time. I enjoy life. I am happy. I still think of Brenna every single day. Usually many times a day. But thinking of her doesn't immediately make me want to cry. I have just accepted it as part of my life. As part of me. I can not change it.

I don't think I would want to anyway.

Have a SAFE Fourth Of July.

WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT

Last month one of my clients had a baby and I sent her a flower/plant to her office to congratulate her. Today I received a thank you note in the mail. It said thank you and went on to say how every time she looks at the plant she thinks of how lucky she is to have this little bundle of joy in her life, how in love they are, and how adorable the baby is. I was surprised by how much that note bothered me. It didn't bother me at all when she had the baby. It didn't bother me to go pick out a gift. I didn't think twice about it. I don't know if it was because I wasn't expecting it... For whatever reason that card made me feel sick to my stomach.

Just when I think I am OK, something happens that makes me realize I will never be over the loss of my daughter. I will always feel a twinge of pain every time I hear the words "dead baby". I think that as long as I live, I will keep having these little surprise twinges of pain.

I guess that's just one of the perks of being a deadbabymom.

I DON'T ALWAYS SWEAR

Let me clarify from my last post that I don't make it a habit to swear at my husband. Not even when I'm angry. I also have never thrown anything at him in our entire life. I was just so mad and relieved at the same time I lost it for a second. (I was also about 40 feet away from him, and knew I didn't have a shot in hell of hitting him.)
_______________________________
I also have to share this little nugget I found at Post Secret. I just love it.

SCARIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE

The worst possible thing happened to me today:

I came home from work, and no one was home. My husband has a golf league and leaves right before I get home, but my 12 year old should have been there. The TV is one. His laptop is open. The dishwasher is running. The back door is open. He is no where to be found. His shoes are by the door. He couldn't be far. I call him, and look all over the house. Nothing. I call the neighbor- hasn't seen him. I call his friend's mom- no answer. I call the neighbor- hasn't seen him. I walk around outside, and really start to worry. He's no where. I call my stepdaughter- she hasn't seen him. I keep calling my husband's cell phone- he doesn't answer. That isn't unusual because he doesn't have service on the golf course. I go back in the house and notice that the deadbolt is locked on the front door. If someone came, they would have to come to the back, and the dogs would have let everyone around know someone was here. I go next door (the house is literally in my back yard) and ask them if the the dogs have barked. I know they would go insane if anyone came to our house. Nope. They've been quiet all day. I go to the other neighbor and then the other. No one has seen him. The old lady down the road and another neighbor come out and start calling for him with me. I walk all over our property looking for him. Thinking maybe he fell and broke a leg. Nothing. I notice his track shoes are missing. I think maybe he took of running and hurt himself. There's only one road, and you can see for at least a mile each way, and I can't see anything. If he went that way he's not there anymore. I keep trying to call my husband. He isn't answering. I try to find the golf course number in the book, and I can't think straight. By this time I'm praying, and sick to my stomach. I literally think I'm going to throw up. I don't get panicky easily, but by now I'm full on panicked. I finally sit down on the deck and find the golf course number. I call and they tell me he left early because of the rain. Great, I think, he must be with his dad. I keep calling my husband, he still isn't answering. I call every place I think he could be. After a half an hour the neighbor girls says "Here he is. But he's alone. No one is in the car with him". My heart sinks. I can feel myself starting to cry. I run over and yell "Where is B?" He looks at me like I'm insane. I've got my hand on the phone ready to call the police. "He's at boy scouts" he tells me. "What!?!" I yell. "You asshole" I throw the phone at him, half in relief, half in anger. "Didn't you think I'd wonder where he is!?!" "Oh" says my husband "I didn't even think about it".

I seriously wanted to kill him. But I've never been so relieved in my life.

NOT BILLY MAYS TOO!!!!

I read on Yahoo (my only source of news) that Billy Mays (the Oxi Clean guy) died. I was just watching a commercial of his. I hardly ever see commercials anymore (thank you DVR) but I was watching one of his and I wondered why he was yelling every word. It was like he was so geeked up by the Kaboom that he couldn't contain himself. He did have an energy that I admired though. The article I read said he died in his sleep. If I had to choose, that's how I would want to go.

____________________________

Update on my missing dog: Someone contacted me this morning and said her mom lives a few miles away from me. She said that her mom had a female chihuahua that looked a lot like ours, and that her's was also stolen from her yard. It happened Saturday while she was having a yard sale. I am really, really bothered by this. It was almost more comforting when I thought he was probably dead. At least then I knew he wasn't afraid, and no one was hurting or neglecting him. Now I wonder what kind of wierdo he is with, and hope that they aren't being mean to him.

I keep asking my husband why couldn't they have taken our bad dog. Why'd they take the good one?

AM I THE ONLY ONE?

Even if you are living under a rock, you know by now that Michael Jackson is dead. Am I the only one who is bothered by all this media coverage talking about how sad his death is. These are the same reporters who were ready to burn him at the stake four years ago when he was on trial for child molestation. Hello? Remember that? He was like public enemy number one. Now he is like Jesus himself. I just don't get it.

The man was a performer. I'll give him that. He was amazing, and I don't think we'll ever see another performer like Michael Jackson in my lifetime.

But I just find it so hypocritical that those who used to bash him, now gush about how much they love him. Give me a break.

HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

Somebody stole my efing dog! I am serious. Our poor, old chihuahua Peanut was taken right out of our yard. That might not be all that shocking if I lived in an actual city- but I live on 20 acres out in the middle of no where. Someone would have to drive in my driveway or walk a long ways (miles) to get into my yard to get my dog. I get sick to my stomach thinking that someone may be out there being mean to him. So I'm hoping that where ever he is, he's being loved.

If you live in Michigan and see a small, skinny, tan chihuahua with a mole on his face- he's probably mine.

POST #302

This is my 302nd post. I didn't realize when I posted #300! :(

So, we had to find a new home for Gizzy. I really liked him, and wanted to keep him, but he had major issues. More than I was able to handle. I didn't feel comfortable letting him be with my son anymore, and that is when it became obvious that he needed a new home. He just wasn't loving it here. He has major dominance issues, and needed to be the only pet in a child free home. We found the perfect home for him. A disabled man who lives with his adult son. His son travels and the man is often alone. He's been looking for a dog for awhile. I just happened to run across him, and he already emailed me and told me that he thinks Gizzy is going to work out just fine. I was up front about his issues and the man wasn't bothered by them. So, I'm hoping that it will work out for him.

Now, the search begins again for another dog.

PETROGLYPHS

On Saturday we went to see Michigan's only Petroglyphs. What are they, you ask. They are ancient carvings that are about 800 years old. With the state of Michigan's economy, we can't afford to keep them open, so they are only open one day a year now. It was the first time I have seen them, and they were amazing.

You could get right up to them. You could actually touch the rock. I kept looking at these carvings, these mysteries, and wondering what they meant. Did the person (or people) who carved these so many lifetimes ago know that someday people would be in awe of them?

Which got me thinking about this blog.

Years from now, I hope that people look at it and wonder what in the hell I mean by Still Birth. I really hope that there is no such thing as Deadbabyland. I hope that these writings are a mystery to them- something they can't comprehend.

DEAR JJ

I wish that I could have a dad like my husband. He is a loving, gentle, and patient father. I hope my kids know how lucky they are to have him. I certainly know how lucky I am to have him.

I remember when I first realized what kind of father he was. We had just started dating, and we were roller blading with his daughter. She was 9 at the time. She fell pretty hard and hurt herself. I can still remember her cry of "Daddy!" He picked her up and carried her to a bench. He was so gentle with her. I remember actually being a little envious, because I had never had that.

Last week we were working outside and I cut myself. It was a long way back to the house and I was bleeding pretty good. My husband offered his tee shirt to help stop the blood on the way to the house. He took my arm and I expected him to put pressure on it. Instead he tenderly cleaned around the area, and then gently put pressure on it.

It's little things like these that make me realize what kind of a man I am married to.




This Father's Day all I can think of to say to him is:





Thank you for my babies.

I HAVE A NEW BABY!

Anyone who has lost a child will tell you- our pets become our "children". Well, I have a new baby. He's a rescue and we picked him up yesterday:





He's a Shih Tzu. His name was Gizmo, but we changed it to Gizzy (because we are oh-so-creative!). My husband calls him and my other Shih Tzu, Daisy "book ends".

They aren't identical- Daisy is 11 years old, and Gizzy is only 2- but they do look a lot alike. They love each other. Started playing right away. Originally we were just going to keep him until he found a new home, but we really like him. He just fit right in with us. My son says he has a familiar face- like we've known him before.

Must have been meant to be.

NOT ME

Not Me Monday Tuesday.

I did not feel guilty for working late, and let my son stay up late last night.

I did not pay for it this morning when he wouldn't get up.

I am not tired of writing about my dog rolling in poop because she did not do it again yesterday.
(Seriously, I have no idea why she is doing this and if anyone had a suggestion as to how to stop this I would love to hear it.)

I did not eat Spaghetti-o's With Meatballs for dinner last night.

I defiantly did not pick out the meatballs and feed them to the dog.

I certainly didn't buy my whole family (including the dogs!) matching 4th of July shirts from Old Navy. That would be very nerdy. Even for me.

SHOCKING

I don't want to share specifics because it's not my story to tell, but something scarred the shit out of me today. Someone suffered her second uterine rupture and lost her second child this weekend. It really freaks me out. I can't even imagine it happening twice! I really just can't imagine. That is my worst nightmare.

NOW I HAVE AN OPINON

The April Rose saga continues. I don't know whether I should pity Beccah Rose Beushausen or be angry at her.

I can't help but feel very sorry for her because she is obviously deeply disturbed.

On the other hand I am sickened that she has received all this attention! She was featured in the Chicago Tribune and ABC News for crying out loud! http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/chi-baby-hoax-12jun12,0,5601624.story?page=1

http://abcnews.go.com/Technology/Story?id=7827909&page=1

When I read that this had happened I posted about it because it was kind of shocking that someone could carry on this type of lie for so long. I did not realize the extent of her lie. I did not realize that she actually reported the birth- and death- of her "daughter". Just typing those words makes me sick to my stomach. She preyed on all of us who have lost a child, who are so willing to reach out and help another mother who is facing the same crisis. I fear that our community has become jaded. I fear that when there is a new mother in need, we will be hesitant to come to their rescue.

This is the blog world. We can be who ever we want to be when we sit at our keyboard. We alone choose what we do and don't share. We shape the perception that our readers have of us. Maybe I'm fooling myself, but I like to think that the majority of the things I read in deadbabyland are true.

For the record, I will tell you that I don't believe for one second that Beccah started this hoax to raise awareness to the pro life movement. There is no way. She went out of her way to contact MckMamma at mycharmingkids and ask her to direct traffic to her blog. She accepted money from several people that I know of. The only reason I can see why someone would do this, is because they are benefiting financially from it. Even if she was making two cents a hit on her blog- with all the hits her blog had that would be more the $15,000!

I would also like to point out that I believe she was the only person involved in this scam. The Pass Pregnancy Care Center had no idea she was asking for donation on their behalf. http://www.southtownstar.com/news/1620755,061309hoaxerside.article

I'm done talking about this now. I've been thinking about it for the past few days, and I just felt that I needed to clear the air before I moved on.

***Edited to add***
I just saw this on Blogher and it looks like Beccah won't be getting any money from them.
http://www.blogher.com/sad-truth-story-little-one-april