Cassidy

Have y’all seen the Oh Joy for Target line? It’s good. Like really good. I love me some Target, and I’ve loved following Joy over the last couple of years. When they got together I knew it’d be magic. One of the things I recently got from her line were the scallop ice cube trays.

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With the below drinks, these ice cubes taste take an orange dream-sicle that I could just eat by itself. Yum. Yum. Yum. And pretty!

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Filed Under: Favorite Things, Foodie

“A new baby is like the beginning of all things hope, wonder, a dream of possibilities.”

Picture taken over the weekend at a baby shower of a sweet friend.

Pregnancy after loss. It changes things. I’ve been wanting to write some of these thoughts down for awhile now, but have been trying to wait until I had an eloquent or even understandable way of expressing what my heart and head has felt the last couple of months. The clarity has not come, so bear with me while I stumble through my own understanding of all of this. After we lost the baby, I lost trust in my body. My body should have given me the signs…why was my belly still growing if the heartbeat had stopped 3 weeks earlier? Why hadn’t I miscarried? Why did I lose the baby in the first place? Rylie was an unplanned c-section (birth story here), and in my head I became convinced that something had been damaged inside and that the baby never had a chance.

I had decided that if we were going to try again, I wanted to wait until after the baby’s due date (April 6). I felt it was important to honor that pregnancy time, to honor that baby. One thing I’ve learned from all of this, among many life lessons (and I hate referring to the loss as a lesson), is that you cannot plan things that are inevitably out of your control. You can do all the “right” things, have all the right intentions, and things can still get all twisted. We weren’t exactly being careful, and there was a deep part of me that (despite what I was telling everyone) wanted to be pregnant again…like right away. It’s hard to explain, and not something words can really comprehend, but when this baby in my belly right now was conceived, I knew it. I took a pregnancy test, negative, but I still knew. We took our first trip away from Rylie as a couple to Las Vegas, and I tossed a pregnancy test in my luggage bag. When the dreaded 3 minute wait was up, and we finally knew, I laid in bed for quite awhile, allowing the news to overtake me.

Instantly, I mean…instantly, anxiety and guilt found their home. A little excitement and joy decided to show up to the party, but they stayed pretty quiet while anxiety and guilt took over the show. If it happened once, it could happen again, and I didn’t trust my body to show me the signs that would clue me in. I felt guilt. So. Much. Guilt. How could I even begin to love this baby, when I hadn’t even said goodbye yet to the last? How could I even be thinking that I couldn’t love this baby yet? What was I thinking having that champagne last night?

Do we tell people? Everyone knew about the last baby, and I was grateful for that, I felt less alone in the loss. But, do I put it out there again? That first appointment was horrifying. I had not been back in the doctor’s office since we had the visit with no heartbeat. My whole body felt cold and stiff. But there it was, a heartbeat, fast and strong. This helped a little, but we had heard the last baby’s heartbeat too…and it sounded just the same. By the time the 12 week appointment came, I had convinced myself on several occasions that the baby was gone. It was always late at night, laying in bed, and I would whisper my crazy thoughts aloud to my husband. Anxiety. The type of anxiety that leaves you feeling like you just ran a marathon, but something is chasing you, so even though you are exhausted and your heart is racing and you really just want to lay down, you have to keep running. You can’t stop for a second or it will catch you and swallow you whole. I know this sounds melo-dramatic, but like I said…I’m just trying to put the fog of feelings and emotions into words, and words never seem to get it exactly right.

12 weeks. It took them maybe 10 seconds to find the heartbeat, and in those ten seconds I had already decided that we were done trying. But then it came, loud and strong. Life.

Honestly, it was only then that I really let the love creep in. I hope that you (baby growing in my belly) do not read this one day and believe for a second that all of this makes me love you less. Oh no, this experience makes my love for you go beyond what is reasonable. So much had to happen for it to be you. The sound of your heart…and one day the smell of your skin will be intoxicating…something that will fill me up to the brim, a different kind of love.

And Rylie, one day, I need you to ask me about how you were through all of this. There are things that you did, things that you said, experiences we shared, that I need to tell you. You, and I believe most young kids your age, are closer to spiritual dimensions than we (as adults) are. These are things that aren’t for the world to know about, but that I want to share with you one day. You, have been my shining light through this.

I still know that a million billion things can go wrong (or at least that is what it feels like). Making human life is not for the faint of heart, seriously. Somehow though, we do it, and then do it again, and then watch our children and grandchildren do it. I struggle with my faith and spirituality, a lot. I think sometimes God (or whoever it is that is responsible for all consuming love and miracles) has to slap me in the face with experiences to make me believe and see. I’m not talking about the loss, I’m talking about the beauty I’ve seen through this.

Ok, I think that’s all I can say for now. Today we have our big ultrasound, and I am hopeful and terrified. Whatever happens though, I want these words to be here, to read someday, to read to Rylie someday. To maybe make someone, even one person, feel less crazy or alone.

Anxious. Excited. Guilty. Hopeful.

Love.

Everson Michael. He is here. We are crazy for him.

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On August 19 at around 8:30 AM during Rylie’s bubble bath, I was going pee. As I was finishing my business, it seemed like there was a gush of pee. As I stood up it kept coming, and we knew. My water had broke. I’ll go into more detail about the labor in a later post, it wasn’t exactly how we imagined it but in many ways it was a wonderful and ideal situation. My contractions hadn’t started so we were able to do our whole nighttime routine with Ry, and actually tell her that when she woke up that grandma and grandpa would be there, and she would get to meet her baby brother. I laid in bed with her, hugged her for what seemed like forever, and gave her a million little kisses all over her face, knowing that it would be the last time I would do so with her as my only child. It was one of those life moments and I really believe she understood.

Everson, you were born August 20th at 8:25 AM. You weighed 8 lbs 3.5 oz and they measured you at 18 inches (but you were 19 inches a few days later, so I think they got it wrong!) I overheard one of the delivery nurses tell a postpartum nurse that “she won’t let him go, she’s held him since we put him in her arms.” She was right, and that’s how we stayed.

We are so in love with you. Words don’t do the feelings justice. You are such a (as your papa called you) “fair” baby. You only cry when something hurts (a gas bubble for example) but otherwise you are just a bundle of sweet baby smelling, sleepy smiling, blue eyed (as of today) baby. At your first doctor appointment you had not only met your birth weight but had gained 10 oz! I love to smell you, breast feed you, hold you. Your heavy baby weight on my chest is what dreams are made of. You have the longest little fingers and softest skin. I cry as I write this because my feelings for you are already so tremendous.

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Rylie. You always amaze me, but this time…I am beyond amazed. From the minute you met him you have been such a gentle and caring big sister. You love to touch his head, pet his hair, find his toes (and play “this little piggy”), look at his umbilical cord, and you think it is hilarious when he pees as mama as changing his diaper. You have been such a big helper, getting diapers, blankets, and making sure he has his “mimi” lovey. This morning you said you wanted to snuggle with him in bed, and my heart exploded into a million little pieces. Sometimes it’s a little hard for you, when you want me to do something and I cant right away, but I see you taking a deep breath and trying to be patient. You are mature beyond your years, such an old caring soul. You get it too, you get what it means to be a big sister and that he is a new part of our family. I didn’t believe I could love you anymore than I already do, but seeing you in this role, I do.

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My heart is full.

One thing is for sure…my most prominent accessory these days is a diaper bag. I’m having a serious love affair with this one from Lily Jade. It looks nothing like a diaper bag, but has a removable water-proof insert that just makes life SO. MUCH. EASIER.

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Top: old Jcrew

Jeans: J brand Maternity

Shoes: Kate Spade

Bag: Lily Jade

Now what’s in my diaper bag you might ask? Well, I looked inside and here’s what I found.

A book and a few toys for when we are out at a restaurant, some snacks, most likely some old loose snacks, an extra pair of underwear since we are potty training and accidents happen, a water bottle, Honest hand sanitizer spray, some sunscreen, loose change, sunglasses, and typically an old wipe with god knows what in it.

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And with a little boy on the way…this is what I expect will be making an appearance in our diaper bag. Diapers…duh, an extra pair of pants for those explosive poops, same old change and old wipe with god knows what in it, a hat for the sun, a burp cloth and teething ring (these ones from Alexandra Rose), and a pretty scarf just in case I decide I want a light cover while nursing.

What’s in your diaper bag?!

Filed Under: Baby, Biz Love, Bun In The Oven, Etsy, Favorite Things, Little Ones