I survived.

Yesterday 12:52pm: 
Zac throws up on our bed.

Now, he had been fussing a bit beforehand, so I thought he might have just worked himself up and made himself sick.  

By 2:30pm:
Zac throws up a total of 7 times.  

The stomach bug had officially hit Zac.

One of the times Zac got threw up, it ended up all over me.  My shirt, bra, pants and underwear were saturated.  I had just gotten initiated into motherhood.

It was so sad and heartbreaking seeing him so scared each time he got sick.  After talking to to the nurse, we ended up taking him in to make sure he wasn't more sick than he appeared.  By the evening, he was able to keep a few ounces of Pedialite and formula down.  He also got some good sleep last night...even though momma didn't. 
He is 100% better today.

It's no secret that I'm a germaphobe.  And I deep down I really think I have Emetophobia (the fear of throwing up).  I can literally count the times I have thrown up in my life on one hand. While working at the elementary school, if a kid was throwing up, I was the one rushing out of the room.  I couldn't handle it.  

I used to judge the parents who would come in to the office to pick of their sick child and hug and kiss them when they'd come out of the nurse's office.  But now I get it.  I hugged, held and kissed Zac all afternoon long.  Trying to comfort him while he was so pale and lethargic in my arms.  I knew he was sick, and I knew that there was a big chance I could get sick from loving on him, but I didn't care.  I wanted to take care of my precious, sick boy. The love I have for him outweighed any fear of getting sick that came to mind.  I didn't care.  

In addition to overcoming my own fear of germs, I feel like we conquered another fear.  Before yesterday, I had never had a child get sick that didn't die as a result.  Between Jonathan and the miscarriage, sickness equaled death.  This is a huge underlying reason behind my fear of germs. I have a fear of Zac getting sick and dying.  I have dreaded the day that he got sick for the first time because of what the outcome could be.  Even on the way to the doctors yesterday, I was crying because I was so fearful that he so sick he would need to get admitted to the hospital.  

A marble moment was when we saw a neighbor at the doctor's office with his own sick child.  We were unable to get in to see our own doctor, but the neighbor was glad we were able to see their doctor that afternoon.  Just having that encouragement of a new doctor put this momma a little at ease.  It was definitely a marble moment that God was in control. 

I'm so thankful that Zac is fine today and that yesterday wasn't worse. I feel like I can conquer the world because I survived the past 24 hours. It is more than just Zac being sick for the first time.  I feel like I tackled a huge fear in my life and won.  I'm not saying that I'm not a germphobe anymore, but I feel like I took a huge step in winning that battle yesterday.  

I survived.  

one step forward, 20 steps back

I am find myself in the thick of it with grief still which irritates me because I feel like I should have made more progress than I have. Granted, I know that April 1st is coming up which surfaces more layers of grief.  

I still find myself feeling left behind regarding kids and my family.  Yes, I have Zac, but now my friends are having their 2nd or 3rd child...and yes, Zac is my second child, but it doesn't appear like that to the outside world.  I still feel need to catch up.  Granted, getting pregnant right away won't solve anything, but it's still a feeling that I am constantly fighting. I'm finding it hard to be content with where I am. Perhaps it's because I feel like my family is incomplete with Jonathan missing.  That hole that he left will always make me feel like something is missing from our family. 

I feel like I am failing at friendships.  Literally.  I feel like I am the suckiest friend in the whole world.  I would like to make a mass apology to those who have texted/messaged me, and I haven't responded.  It has nothing to do with you.  It has everything to do with me. I want to be a better friend.  I want to connect with you.  But it's me.  Not only am I trying to figure out married life with being a new mom, but my emotional bucket is empty usually the month of March... Okay, that's a lie. I feel empty often.  This is where I get irritated with myself for not being better.  I know that you care and love me.  I know that you aren't judging me (even though I fill that part in for you and feel like a complete failure).  Again, I know that you care about me. I'm sorry I don't actually let you show it.  As I previously said, I think I should be feeling better by now, or at least know how to deal with my grief.  But I still have those really tough days.  And my safe place is my home...with Charles and Zac.  I'm still trying to figure out who I am.  I'm not the person or friend that I once was.  For that, I'm sorry.  But please continue to be patient with me as I am still navigating through this grief.  I don't know how long it will take, but please be patient.  

I'm still really struggling with germs and my fears.  Yesterday, I had Chusan lunch with Charles at Chick-fil-a, and I almost had a complete panic attack while there.  Zac was in his stroller, pulled up to our booth.  We were sitting in a booth next to where the order line would be if it was long.  Once we got our food, 50 kids came in from a field trip.  They were right next to us, bumping into Zac's stroller.  They were really well behaved, but one would cough and another one would sneeze... and I was about to die.  Poor Charles kept trying to start a conversation to take my mind off of it, but I couldn't concentrate.  We inhaled our food and left.  I cried the whole way back to the office to drop Charles off.  It's moments like this where I feel so crazy.  I feel like I haven't made the progress that I thought I have.  My fears are such a struggle for me.  I am so afraid of losing Zac.  I'm so afraid that God will take him away from me.  As you can see, I'm still working on the whole "trusting Jesus" thing... 

I made a twisted realization the other day.  I'm trying so hard to lose my baby weight from Zac's pregnancy.  I still have 24lbs to go to get to my pre-Zac weight.  My ultimate goal is to lose an additional 20lbs after that.  If I do that, I'll be at my pre-Jonathan weight. That number is 151.  I just want to be back at 151 so badly.  The other day I realized that deep down that number stands for more than just being a size 8 again.  In my mind, I think that if I get back to 151, I'll be happier.  I'll be my old self again.  I won't feel this pain that I feel on a daily basis.  My eyes finally see what that number represents.  But it isn't my baby weight that brings me this pain.  I need to accept that I won't ever be that person that I was before December 9, 2013. That's a hard truth.  I know that I have some really positive things going on in my life, but there is a part of me that just want to be happy again.  But 151 won't be the happiness I'm searching for.  
When I say these things out loud, that's when I really feel that I haven't made as much progress as I thought I have.  Deep down I know that I have made progress, and I know I need to be gracious to myself.  I guess I just continue to realize that I'm still trying to navigate this journey and continue to accept my new normal.  Grief is such a messy thing.  I know I've come far, but there are those days when I feel like I haven't moved an inch.  I know that God's Grace is new every morning.  And for that I am thankful.  But there are still days were the pain seems to overpower the grace.  Thankfully tomorrow has a new morning. 

scars and germs

I had a great counseling appointment yesterday.  As I was summarizing how I have been the past couple weeks, my counselor acknowledged how good I looked....meaning I looked brighter, happier, lighter.  

I agreed that I felt better all around...minus the baby weight I still need to lose.  

Previously we had discussed how my wound with Jonathan had put me me in ICU for the past three years.  In the room with me was only Charles.  My family and friends weren't even allowed in the hospital.  And Jesus was only allowed just outside my room, on the other side of the closed curtain.  

While being in ICU, I have had to keep myself safe, secure, healthy and protected....allowing only Charles in.  He was the only one who understood.  He was the only one I could trust.  He was the only one I have felt safe with.  

Because of this, I have kept visitors at bay.  I've kept friends at bay.  I've kept relationships at bay.  

My deep, painful wound needed to heal.  

I feel like these past three months with Zachary has brought much healing.  

As I wrote last time, I've been on repeat for the past three years on a track, repeating pregnancy and loss over and over again. But now with Zac, I've broken away and am creating a new path on a new road.  I'm not on repeat anymore.  I'm actually healing.  

And healing doesn't look like replacing.  And healing doesn't mean that I'm healed. But I am slowly seeing a scar form over the gaping wound that once was.  

Now that I am not in the ICU anymore, I find myself having the strength to reconnect with friends and family around me.  

Along with the healing, I'm still working on fear of Zac dying.  I'm still afraid of him getting sick and dying.  I know in my head that germs are good for him and his immune system, but deep in my gut, I ache to protect him, in fear that he will be taken from me.  

I am working on carving out new ruts with my fear of germs.  For the past three years I've clung to control and fear and carved deep grooves of germophobia.  The ruts from the past three years are deep.  And it's mentally exhausting to cut out new ruts that allow me freedom from my fear of germs, but I'm slowly trying.  It will take time to carve new ones to replace the current ones.

The love that I have Zac is so much, it's unexplainable.  I love him so much that he is my motivation to work on my fears because I do not want to pass them on to him.  I don't want him to grow up in my fearful world.  For him, I would do anything.  And right now, breaking my OCD with germs and fear is what I'm working on.  It might be two steps forward and one step back, but it is still progress.  This process needs to be filled with Grace for myself, but I know I can eventually get there.

My fear of germs really comes down to me not trusting Jesus. I've felt that Jesus really let me down with Jonathan's death.  That's why even Jesus wasn't allowed inside the ICU room.  He had to stay outside.  For the past three years I've kept Jesus at arms length because I didn't trust Him...that I don't trust Him.  

My counselor gave me an exercise to do for the past few months.  I have a mason jar in our living room, and every time I feel  or see Jesus move in some way - big or small - I put a marble in the jar.  Being a visual learner, I have something that physically reminds me of God's Goodness.  His Faithfulness.  

With each marble, my trust in Him is growing.  

Even though I haven't conquered my fear of germs and control.  I'm working on it day by day, hour by hour.  

He is Faithful and full of Grace.  And my mason jar is almost full.

the track

I have been chewing on writing a blog post for awhile now, but I just couldn't figure out how to put these past two months into words.

Zachary is doing so good, and I am falling in love with him more and more each day.  I didn't realize how strong a mother's love truly can be.  When I watch him next to me, the love I feel for him almost brings tears to my eyes.  My heart is so full of joy and love.

Unfortunately, along with that comes guilt.  I feel guilty that Zachary is here in my arms, and I am able to love on him in a way that I was unable to with Jonathan.  I almost feel like I'm cheating on Jonathan in a way. 

Up until Zachary's delivery, I felt like I was on a track.  In my mind, I picture my old high school's track.  With Jonathan, I completed the track once (pregnancy).  But life ended, and I stayed in repeat.  I continued another lap on the track with our miscarriage.  And then I did another lap during Zachary's pregnancy.  All I had known were pregnancies and loss and laps around the track.  When I finally delivered Zachary, I broke free of the track and continued down a road.  A new road that I never experienced. 

There are so many new experiences I am having with Zac that I never got to do with Jonathan.  Instead of looping around the track for another time, I now have this little person that keeps hitting different milestones that solidifies the passing of time from Jonathan.  I find myself playing the "what-if" game a lot more with Jonathan that I did before.  Zachary is a new way to track the time that has passed without Jonathan. 

By leaving the track and continuing with Zac, it feels like this momma is leaving her Jonathan behind.  ...that she is moving on with her life without her first born.

That makes me feel guilty.  It makes me feel like a bad mom to Jonathan. 

That's why it's so complicated.  The intertwining of grief, sadness, love and joy is so messy.

I'm a big numbers and date person, so all throughout the year I remember the odd days of when this or that happened.  This also applies when I was pregnant with Jonathan.  December is always a fun month because this is when we learned of his diagnosis -- December 9th to be exact.  You know what, I didn't realized it was December 9th until it was around 8pm that night.  Perhaps this is a part of our journey of healing, but it hurt my heart that I forgot.  It felt like somehow I forgot Jonathan...even though I think of him many times throughout each day.

One of my biggest fears is that people with forget Jonathan.  That people will think that I am "fixed" now that I have Zachary.  This isn't the case at all. 

As twisted as it is, the pain of Jonathan's story connects me to him.  There were moments of joy and love with him, but the main thing was pain and sadness.  By forgetting the 9th, I felt like part of me had moved on with my life with Zachary, and I left Jonathan behind. 

Like I left him back on the track. 

Hormones + Grief = 1 Hot Mess

Zachary James is here and is officially one week old!  

Last Wednesday I was induced, and 16 hours later, our little bundle arrived. 

This time around, labor was totally different with Zachary in comparison to Jonathan. After I got the epidural with Jonathan, I felt like it was a piece of cake!  I was sitting up, chatting with people who came to visit. This time, I had a hard time handling the epidural, and my BP kept dropping really low...which means I felt so nauseous, so I ended up flat on my back most of the time with a cool rag on my forehead to feel some relief. In addition to the low BP, I started feeling all the contractions 12 hours in.  We finally upped the epidural dose, but I was fearful it would drop my BP again. But in the end, I was fine. 

I started pushing a bit after 9pm, and at 9:58pm, Zachary arrived! 

Part of delivery and afterwards was a bit of deja vu, but overall I felt so much joy when I held Zachary for the first time.  My heart was full knowing that I wasn't being handed my son with a ticking clock counting down the time.  

I felt like I could breathe. 

We decided to come home 24 hours later even though it was late,  but we were ready sleep in our own beds and start this life together. 

Towards the end of the pregnancy I couldn't wait to get home.  This is what I was looking forward to the most!  I had waited long enough to bring a child home with me. This was uncharted territory, and I couldn't wait for this to be reality. 

...and you know what, bringing him actually home is even better than I imagined... 

I am finally seeing how joy and grief aren't mutually exclusive though.  Grief and joy can be so intertwined and be extremely messy. Throw some fun hormones in, and you've got yourself a party.

My doctor was right in expecting me to feel guilty at times when I'm taking care of Zachary. There are moments I find myself realizing how many things I missed out on with Jonathan.  Part of me also feels like I'm moving on with Zachary and leaving Jonathan behind.  Like I'm torn to either follow my growing, healthy son as each day passes, or stay put with where Jonathan remains. 

Overall, Zachary really is the best baby.  He eats and sleeps so well!  By the way, Charles is a freakin' rockstar! He is so good with Zac, and he is the first to jump in and help if Zachary or I need anything. Charles has been such a good balance for me, and it is so freeing having a husband who is wise and compassionate as we are figuring out this parenting thing.  

The biggest struggle right now are my hormones. I feel pretty good throughout the day, but by early evening, I am usually in tears for one reason or another. And unfortunately that seems to last for the remainder of the night. 

In addition, I am finding myself feeling guilty and pressured from people wanting to visit and see Zachary.  Charles and I had decided to hunker down these first two weeks and not really have any visitors as we settle in as a family of three. But I still find myself feeling pressure to let people come into our sacred world. I know people are excited to celebrate with us, but I feel guilty when I can't respond to people by inviting them over to meet Zac.  

This is where is gets even more complicated. 

Based off of counseling, my anxiety is being fueled into the safety and security of Zachary's well-being.  Add hormones to an already germaphobic person, and you get an irrational momma who doesn't want people to be around him in fear of him getting sick and me losing him.  The thought of having someone come over throws me into a panic which is normally accompanied by tears and sobs.

In addition to the fear of germs and the guilt of not letting people visit, the trifecta is that at the end of the day I don't want to share him with anyone. 

He's mine. 

I've waited so long to have him here, holding him in my arms, in our home, that I don't want to share him with anyone. I want to have him all to myself.  Even when I do share or post pictures, it feels like I am giving away a piece of my heart that I'm so desperately trying to cling to.  

I'm not ready to share him with people.  I've waited too long and he's finally here.  

Again hormones plus grief is a messy, messy thing.  

I'm not saying that the above thoughts are logical or anything, but that's where I'm at. If you want to visit, please be patient with me.  I know I need to work through these things and not live in fear, but for now I need continue to give myself grace, take one day at a time, let my hormones balance out and love my sweet Zachary the best that I can. 

grace and oxygen

I've been feeling a lot of pressure recently.  Granted, most of it is me putting the pressure on myself.

As Zachary's due date is getting closer and closer, I have found myself getting more stressed out about upcoming decisions....however minor they might be.

I think a lot of the pressure is me not wanting to "screw up" with Zachary.  I think part of this stems from losing Jonathan, and here I am with another opportunity, and I can't mess up.

In my past few counseling sessions, I have realized that I don't give myself enough grace.  If I fail at something, I automatically label myself a failure.  There is no middle ground.

I anticipate a new layer of grief to present itself as I go through labor and delivery again.  I also anticipate that grief to linger in the upcoming months with Zachary, because I will be mourning the fact that I didn't get to go any of these things for or with Jonathan. 

At the end of the day, I want to be the best mom for Zachary, and I want to do everything right...because he'll actually come home with us...because I actually have the opportunity to do so. 

Alright, alright -- I know how unrealistic it is to be perfect.  And know I will fail at trying to do this...because perfect isn't possible.  But I can try to be the best mom I can be, failures and all.

I'm also feeling pressured to do things the way other people have done them.  But I have to be okay if those things aren't best for me, Charles and Zachary.  There might be a few unconventional things that we plan on doing, but it might be the best fit for us. 

...It might be the best thing for us to do for our healing hearts.

I have to be okay with putting myself and my family first in these decisions.  I have to be okay if friends and family don't understand, they think I'm being rude or they disagree altogether.  But I can't apologize for being someone that I'm not or having a need that I need to take care of.

My counselor threw my own advice back at me this week during our session when I was telling her how I was feeling selfish: "Sometimes you need to put your oxygen mask on first."
(referencing what flight attendants tell you if you are flying with a child) 

Sometimes you do need to put your oxygen mask on first...and that's okay.  That's okay to take care of yourself, so you can take care of those around you.  For a people pleaser, this can sometimes be a challenge. 

One huge area I'm debating on is breastfeeding.  Without getting into all the details on why or why not, we might end up solely doing formula.  This honestly might be the best option for me, Charles and Zachary. 

Another decision we've made is about visitors and houseguests.  I have no idea what to expect after we get home, but I cannot wait to treasure up the sacred moments of just Charles, myself and Zachary.  It brings tears to my eyes when I think of this time together...being home...just the three of us. 

For the first couple of weeks while Charles gets paternity time, we plan on getting a lot of quality time, just the three of us.  My heart needs this time.  My heart needs this time to heal and be filled with joy. 

I'm not trying to be unrealistic...I know there will be challenges during the first few weeks.  But as a mom who left the hospital last time with empty arms, bring it on.  Bring on that time, the good and the bad...and the healing. 

And after those two weeks, who knows how my heart will be.  Perhaps we will need more of that sacred, quality time.  Perhaps we will want all the visitors who can come to do so.  We have no idea what to expect, and that's okay. 

For those of you who are in the area and want to visit, just send us a text, and we will let you know where we are at during that time.  Perhaps we will welcome the company and want to share the joy of Zachary. And perhaps the next day would be a better time for a visit. 

Honestly, I feel selfish for setting this boundary, but the end of the day, I need grace for myself as I put my oxygen mask on first.

Grief Still Sucks

Recently, I have really felt like I've taken like 12 steps backwards in regards to where I am with my grief. I know it's messy and not black and white, but sometimes the depths of grief seem to be bottomless. 

I know my pregnancy hormones don't help things, but I also feel that this pregnancy is bringing new layers of grief to surface. 

As I am coming up on 32 weeks, I am finding myself comparing this trimester to my pregnancy with Jonathan more than the other two. Since I was on bed rest this time last time, I find myself more anxious about aches and twinges that feel at this stage.

I think ultimately there's a real part of me that thinks there's a chance that something could still go wrong.  It's almost like I can't exhale the breath I've been holding on to these last 32 weeks. As Zachary's due date gets closer, the harder I am trying to hold my breath. It's exhausting.

In our own twisted way, Charles and I joke about how we've already done the pregnancy part, but we haven't actually brought a baby home before. And I find myself being anxious of bringing Zachary home, but I also anticipate there being so much relief when that actually happens...(I just had to fight myself from typing "if that actually happens")...

You know, I have yet to finish any of the baby books that I have. And time is coming soon for us to actually meet Zachary. I think deep down I haven't finished a book yet because I am scared of actually anticipating bringing Zachary home. That by reading the books, it will just get my hopes up that much higher.

See, I told you grief still sucks. It still has such a strong hold on the outlook of these next few weeks.

I've always been a worst case scenario person and grief just amplifies it to another level. I was anxious with my delivery with Jonathan, but the count down of these next few weeks and delivering Zachary has my anxiety spiraling. 

I know there will be challeges when Zachary arrives, but I think the joy of having him safely in my arms and bringing him home will bring a new form of healing. 

Now, if only I could actually breathe before then.