Empty

When I was little, I loved to play "house". In the woods, in the playroom, on Granddaddy's boat; we played it everywhere. Being the oldest, and also the one who most wanted to play this role in our games, I was always the mom. I was sometimes the dog trainer, sometimes the dolphin trainer, sometimes one of the Olsen twins solving a mystery, but for the most part I was the mom. My cousin Morgan and sister Becca were my children, either whining small children or teenagers who snuck out, and I feel like I spent most of my time pretending too cook with empty spice containers and "watching Oprah" (or soap operas) on the boat's rear view mirror we pretended was a TV. 

I pretty much assumed that these games were preparing me for real life (can't say I've actually ever SEEN Oprah or a soap opera, but I guess someone had told me about daytime tv).

I babysat for years growing up. If I had been better at saving than spending, I could probably have paid for college entirely with my earnings as a sitter. It seems a little weird now, but sometimes when I was babysitting, I'd pretend that the babies were my own, making up little stories in my head about my life as a mom with them. 

You probably know already that we've dealt with loss. For almost four years, we've waited and wondered. 

Last week I had an ultrasound to hopefully diagnose things for me. The night before, I started thinking about it and the thought crossed my head that maybe the best surprise ever would happen and I would be pregnant. This was of course super unlikely, but I overthink everything and like to imagine possible outcomes to basically every situation that may arise, so I went in with this in the back of my head. In my scenario, I was past my first trimester, to avoid more worries, and also pregnant with twins. This is my go-to "ya never know" scenario.

It was a little strange being in the room with the pictures on the wall of babies and the big tv screen in front of me projecting what the tech was seeing. As you can imagine, when I was sitting in that dark room with the tech scanning, I saw nothing. Well, nothing like I've seen on other people's ultrasounds. I can't really identify things on those, but I know what a basic prenatal ultrasound looks like and this wasn't it. I mostly saw static. As expected, my womb was empty. The tech explained that things looked good and that I'd know more once someone "read" the ultrasound. 

Just as I'd suspected, there was nothing.

I can't tell you the times I've considered exactly how I'd announce that I was pregnant. I can't tell you how many times I've debated doing a gender reveal party. I can't tell you how many times I've read birth stories. I can't tell you how many times I've bookmarked what seem to be good articles on breastfeeding and even potty training. I don't know why I do it, but I do. I want to be as prepared as I can be for when that moment comes. I am hopeful. 

It's a vulnerable place to be, certainly. I know very well that I have set myself up to be crushed, and I am, every month. It has been 26 months since my last miscarriage, but every single month, even since my first miscarriage 4 years ago, I have been really really hopeful. 

I realized a long time ago that life is out of my control. I realize that having babies may not be something that I can do (results still pending!). I realize that sometimes waiting lasts longer than seems bearable. I realize that just wanting something does not mean that it will happen. I realize that I do believe that God is in control, regardless of how bad life stinks sometimes. I miss my babies in a way that is strange and odd, because of course I never knew them and never will in this life. I have learned, I have grown, and while I wish that I was indeed a mother sitting here writing something entirely different before Mother's Day, I really am hopeful that one day things may not be this way.

The end of a Tennyson poem springs to mind, and I am certain that it will be familiar, but it seems appropriate nevertheless, in the face of emptiness and loss and sadness and hope. 

I hold it true, whate'er befall;

       I feel it when I sorrow most;

'T is better to have loved and lost

       Than never to have loved at all. 

My womb may be empty, but my heart is not.

For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never Worn.

There is an urban legend written that Ernest Hemingway once bet that he could write a short story in just six words. He supposedly won that bet with these words: "For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn". I'm not sure that that ever happened, but it is indeed quite a story. In just a few short words, it encompasses a lot of pain and sorrow. Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, which is also a sad name for a day. While to be honest I didn't remember that today was that day until I saw a post on Facebook, I wanted to write something in honor of this day and our own losses. 

Right now, I might be sitting here writing this post (albeit a very different topic) as my almost-three year old naps. I might instead be relishing in the quiet, just sitting with a cup of tea because my almost-one year old was also down for the afternoon. 

Instead it's just me, and I'm writing from the floor because that's where my computer was. It's quiet and I'm the only one in my apartment. There are all kinds of breakable things sitting out at the perfect height for a small child to grab and break. I don't have any outlet covers. Nothing is baby-proofed. 

I've miscarried all the babies I've ever held in my womb, three in total. The first would have been due in late January of 2013. After I lost that pregnancy I got pregnant again right away with a baby that would have been born in the spring or early summer of 2013. The third baby, I lost last March. He or she would have been due on November 1 of 2014. 

These babies are missed. They have been grieved. I loved them. I think about them all the time and I wonder all the time what our lives would look like if they had arrived when they were due. I wonder where we'd live - we were just about to move to Cleveland when I miscarried the first two, and I'm guessing we'd have made that move either way, but I'm not totally sure if we'd have made the move to Florida. I wonder what kind of mom I'd be. I wonder if they were twins and I didn't know it (I've always wanted twins). My highs would have been different and my lows wouldn't be the same.

But this is the life I'm living now, and it's one without children. 

There is a part of me that will always ache for those babies. I'm certain that no matter what the future holds, I will not forget this time when I longed for children and felt the sting of having others pass me by. While I hope to have this season behind me sooner rather than later, I never want to forget it. I have learned valuable things about waiting and about being a good friend when you really want what your friends have, and about perspective, and about God being good no matter what. 

And He has been good. I don't understand why He's chosen us to be in this season right now, and if I'm being honest with you I might even trade places with the naive person I was over three years ago that just thought these sorts of things happened to "other" people and not to me. Waiting stinks and grieving is hard. 

While I ache for them and while I think about them, I know that dwelling firmly in the past isn't wise. We are urged as believers to "press on", to "look forward", "run with endurance", "lift up our eyes" and countless other similar phrases. Wallowing in our pain and letting it be the core of our identity just isn't a symptom of the Christian life. Side note: ignoring our struggles and pretending like everything is alright and that we don't have pain or problems is not the alternative to this either. We can be "real" and also be looking forward, going through difficult things and yet not giving up hope. I feel very firmly that it is important to be honest about these things and to let people in on them without just putting a smile on it to cover up (hence writing about it on the internet.) 

I both love and hate when people say "God's got a purpose for this". On the one hand, it sort of feels like I'm being preached at or told to look at the bright side of what is in actuality not a very bright thing. On the other, I believe that He does have a purpose. I'm not certain I'll know what that is. It might be that one day I realize that "Oh, THIS was the reason I lost babies!" - which I doubt. But still I believe that good has come from this situation. I believe that God works all things together for good, and that includes this. 

I see God's goodness and grace in my life, and specifically in the area of motherhood. He has not given me my own children in this world, but He has given me other people's children. Carson's brother has five little girls, to whom we are aunt and uncle, but I have several close friends whose children call me (or will call, as many of them don't yet speak) "Aunt Lindsay". 

It is a great joy to be called that, to have little people to love and to send gifts to, to look forward to seeing. I know a lot about strollers and car seats and random baby equipment that I wouldn't know about if not for them, and I'm hoping that one day it comes in handy for me. That isn't to say that I don't struggle, because I do, and it's hard, and I do wonder if my time will ever come. 

Experiencing that pain is unfortunately very much a part of life on this earth. I believe that sin and death are a part of our world because this world is broken and fallen and I believe that miscarriage is absolutely a sign of that. In a perfect world, we'd never know loss, or pain, or anything bad, which is something I cannot comprehend; not really. I mean - how perfect is perfect? What does that possibly look like? Think about it!

My children know a perfect world. They don't know loss, they will never feel pain. They will only know goodness, perfection, perfect love, a world free from sickness and suffering. It's what every mother hopes for - a world where their child is free from all the bad things of the human experience. I don't grieve their loss; they are all the better for never having experienced what it means to have a sin nature or to enter a world littered with its effect. I grieve for me. For what Carson and I don't kno -- how they might look, what they would grow up to be, how their existence would impact and shape us. I may become a mother to someone someday, but I have missed out on parenting those three children. For over three years now, I've felt the acute pain of knowing that I'm missing something BIG. I miss those three people I never knew. 

As we look to the past, we grieve. We wish we didn't know what it felt like to love someone you've never met and never get to experience that reality. But we look forward. We look forward to the hope that is in Christ. We love Him and we don't know Him. But we believe that we will one day be with Him, as our children are already, and that that love will be made full. 

Grayson Joel

We've been calling Morgan's baby "Luigi" for months, because she had a dream that it was a girl and that "she" was inexplicably named Luigi. We found out this spring that she was having a boy, but continued to call the baby Luigi because Morgan and Caleb kept the name a secret until after his birth. That's got to be hard, but Morgan especially is very stubborn, so it worked, and it was wonderful to know his real name after months and months of not knowing and trying to guess (I was way off). I will say though that it was a little weird to see him and NOT say Luigi although Luigi Colucci isn't so great as far as names go. 

Baby's due date was July 31. He tried to come in June (see here for our first visit to L&D), and then not at all in July, so he must have really wanted to avoid that month, because he arrived on August 1. Carson and I drove down to Ocala that evening to wait with Caleb's parents and sisters and my uncle Mark. We arrived at 10:30 and were informed that she had just begun pushing, but we expected to wait a very long time. The baby was born at 11:08pm, so we didn't wait long. The worst part of waiting was that we didn't know WHEN we'd get to see him after he was born. We were sent pictures of the little guy, but not his stats or name, which made waiting even more frustrating. 

At about 12:30 in the morning on August 2, we got to meet Grayson Joel Colucci. Caleb announced his name as soon as we walked in the room. I got to hold him, but Carson didn't see the "take pictures!" look I was shooting him, so pictures of that are on the new parents' camera and they've been a little busy (edit: stole some from Facebook).

As expected, he's precious. I didn't expect him to be so tiny though. He was 7 pounds even, which really surprised me!

Carson and I were given the task of caring for Marlin, the "big brother" (the dog). He took awhile to warm up to us and to go outside, but eventually decided that he really liked us and that we were probably not evil incarnate. 

In the morning, we stopped at the store to get a champagne that Morgan gave me when she first found out she was pregnant and some tacky things to decorate for when they came home. AND (I'm proud of this) "Luigi's" Italian Ice because before he was Grayson, baby Colucci was Luigi. I'd been planning to get that for them for months and we had to go to several stores before finally stopping at a Publix that had it all along. 

Our final stop was the hospital to see the baby again. Morgan had looked really good but a little tired the night before (as one does after having a baby...) and she had showered and looked like someone who hadn't had a baby 12 hours before, which is really an impressive thing. This time I got to hold the baby and sit and talk for a little bit before he got hungry and we needed to leave. Carson took about 100 pictures, which more than made up for the night before. Here are some of those:

He cried for like a second, but Carson caught the moment.

She's a momma! 

I've not waited in the waiting room for someone to have a baby before and it's been a long time since I held a brand-new baby. It was wonderful. I felt as if my own sister had a baby - we're cousins but we grew up together and Morgan has referred to me as the baby's aunt although I'm a first-cousin-once-removed. 

We've cried and prayed for this baby for a long time, and watching Morgan go through pregnancy and seeing that baby for the first time? I might have teared up with joyful tears (no one saw because they were looking at that sweet little boy). I am truly happy for Morgan and Caleb, and this was the first baby in a long time that I've been this genuinely THRILLED to see enter the world. This kid's got a piece of my heart, and I've only met him once!

Little Visit, Little People

Apparently it takes a brave parent to road trip alone with small children. That's what I hear anyway, and I believe it. It's a moving vehicle full of unpredictability, and Jillian and her girls conquered it recently. They drove a long way for a short visit, but we loved our time with them.

They arrived before dinner with two girls who were VERY glad to be out of the car, and one mother who was happier to be out of the car than anyone else could have been. She's a trooper. 

Graceanna quickly recalled her friendship with "Mista Ca-sun" and goaded him into reading our collection of children's books.  

Wren helped me get dinner ready while her momma was taking a relaxing shower. Note the shirt.

Graceanna had cucumbers for the first time and called them pickles. The rest of us had a new recipe that tasted fine but was terribly ugly. Jillian is a queen of both tasty and beautiful food, so my incredibly humble presentation disappointed me. 

We had an early evening since everyone was tired and I had to work early. When I got home the next day, things were a little chaotic, but they started to slow down when both girls went down for naps.

I'm glad I got a picture of Wren sleeping because it only lasted 15 minutes. Gracie didn't sleep at all. 

Napless but brave (or stupid, we would soon find out), Jillian and I decided to proceed with the plan of getting ready and leaving the house, figuring that if things went south, we could come home again no problem. 

We went to the used bookstore first. Everyone loved it, except maybe the staff who I'm sure had to re-reshelve the books I probably grossly misplaced when reading to Gracie. 

We hit the very thrilling Wal-Mart next because we were obviously all about shopping and exploring local on this trip. Had to take a selfie on the car ride out of the parking lot. 

Our third stop was going to be a park, but since we were sweating from just the walk from the car to the store, we decided to opt for the air conditioning of a Chic-fil-a play place. That didn't happen either because Graceanna read herself to sleep.

Jillian and I drove around since both girls had fallen asleep and we wanted to keep them sleeping for as long as possible. We headed home when Wren lost her mind in hunger. Graceanna continued to sleep until 6.

We knew it would be a late night, so dinner and everything else was late. I made a much better-presented Chicken Cordon Bleu which everyone except Graceanna enjoyed. 

We'd planned to put the girls to bed and then let Carson stay with them while we went out and talked, but the late naps changed things. Carson grabbed Pizooki for us and our night instead included a movie, a toddler pedicure, reading books, jumping on our mini trampoline, takeout dessert on the couch, and bottle feeding a baby. We didn't get the hours of conversation I'd hoped for, but the alternative was pretty good too.  

Graceanna got fig cookies and a tiny handful of chocolate chips, but she enjoyed it with more gusto than we had for our (much tastier, sorry G) desserts. 

The next morning was going to start pretty early but plans changed, so we got a late start. We hit the splash pad at Cascades Park and Gracie loved it. She was a bit apprehensive at first, but by the end she was soaking went and having a blast.

We met her twin!

And another selfie for the books.

I sat in the car with the girls while Jillian gathered the rest of their things, and we FaceTimed with Emily and baby Tirzah. We wish they could have been here!

One last hug from baby Wren, and they were back on the road. Love my "nieces" and my "sister" and I'm thankful that it's now a shorter trip, but I wish these weekends together happened much more often!

Beaufort and Baby Showers

In case you missed my other post about it, Morgan is having a baby! This is cause for much celebration, and with babies, the best celebration is a baby shower. I offered to host her shower in Beaufort off-hand, and it became a plan, so at the end of June, we headed up to our hometown to shower that baby boy!

We were going to go on the Friday before the shower, but Morgan was off work and I got off work early, so we went on Thursday. That turned out to be a great idea because we got more time with Grandmama, and little did we know that we were going to need more time there. 

We arrived around dinnertime, and took an after dinner stroll out to the dock. Grandmama takes sunset pictures every night, and I take them every time I'm out there at sunset. It's captivating every time, even though it can't be captured fully, and especially not in an iPhone photo. 

It was getting dark, so the light was not great for pictures, but we took them anyway. Here's one of the "big two" with Grandmama. Sydney, Morgan's sister, was out there too, but none of my pictures with her in them turned out even remotely acceptable. Sorry, Syd! 

Speaking of, since Sydney was with us, and that never happens without the whole family there, Morgan's and my eyes were opened to the reality that we sit at the top of the grandchildren totem pole. Morgan, my sister Becca, and I are the three oldest grandchildren, and we spent lots of time at Grandmama's when we were younger. Then lots of grandchildren were born in short succession and time with those grandchildren (with the exception of my family, everyone else moved away) was shorter. So poor Sydney (grandchild number six) was very loved, but didn't get the perks we had. We realized that for the first time, oops. 

I went down the next morning to ask Granddaddy about getting a watermelon, so here's a picture of him working while I beg him for something. Definitely not the first time this scenario has occurred. 

We had crabs for lunch. The newspaper was from last July, so we read about the World Cup finals as we ate. (see our personalized cups as oldest grandchildren? Morgan, Becca and I each have one, and then there's one with everyone else's name on it - Sydney didn't want that one)

We spent Friday afternoon going through old books we loved as kids and making lists of the ones we wanted to look up to add to our collections. 

Morgan went to take Sydney to her other grandparents' house and the rest of us ate Grandmama's delicious spaghetti (my favorite) in the living room while watching Aerial America, Ohio.

When Morgan got back, we looked through old pictures and tried to figure out what Baby Colucci is going to look like. We're pretty sure he's going to look at least a little like Morgan. 

I got up early the next morning and went to my parents' house to help set up for the baby shower. 

We covered marshmallows in colored white chocolate and dipped in sprinkles. This Amazon box was our solution for drying them in the fridge. 

It was sort of a bow tie/little man theme. I didn't want to go too overboard, but I did want to use little bow ties in a banner. And that basket on the bench was for children's books. I had people bring a book instead of a card, and there were some really cute ones!

Mini and Oscar, the dogs, were not supposed to be invited, but they don't do well in a room alone (they cry) and we didn't think the goat pen was a good solution, so they were there. They were fairly well behaved, but Oscar kept sitting on the back of the chair. 

The shower was all family and long-time friends, so almost everyone knew each other already. After gifts were opened, people stayed for an hour and a half just talking. 

We played a game similar to the newlywed game where we asked Caleb questions about babies/being a dad and Morgan had to guess his answers. He was pretty accurate about most of them, but his answers still made us laugh. 

After the guests left, Dad and Scott came home and Jillian came over. In his excitement, Oscar sat on Mini to get to Dad. 

It was great hanging out with Jillian at my parents'. We stayed up until very late talking, laughing and crying. It was very like old times. 

The night was late, and circumstances made it seem longer. I stayed up very late and after church when Dad and I went back out to Grandmama's, I took a nap in the hammock. 

Granddaddy had the aforementioned watermelon waiting for us and it was delicious. 

Grandmama and I left shortly after to take a trip to Labor and Delivery. 

After the baby shower, Morgan had to go to the emergency room. They weren't sure if she and the baby were okay so they stayed until Monday morning. Since there was a chance Baby Colucci would arrive, Caleb, his mom, Uncle Mark and my cousin Stuart all came up from Ocala. The baby ended up being okay and they just put Morgan on bed rest until further notice, but since we didn't know anything for certain, Carson decided to come up as well to get me just in case my ride had a baby. 

I took another sunset picture when we got back.

Carson arrived at 1:30 in the morning. When he got up, there was quite the breakfast spread on the table.

Still tired, I took a nap after breakfast. When I woke up, plans had been made to go to Hilton Head and eat at a restaurant Granddaddy and Grandmama had told us about, The Skull Creek Boathouse. Carson and Grandmama had fish sandwiches and Granddaddy and I had shrimp baskets.

Then we tried to get a group picture.

Next, we went out to Harbour Town in Sea Pines. Even though I grew up near there, I've never been to Sea Pines or really explored Hilton Head at all. It's funny the things you miss when you live in a place (and a reason we made a bucket list in Cleveland - so we didn't miss as much).

We would have gone up in the lighthouse, but it was expensive, so we settled for a picture.

And here we are on the 18th hole of the golf course. Dad and Granddaddy have gone out there a lot for golf tournaments, but I hadn't, so we had to take a picture on the green.

Next, Granddaddy suggested we go to the Salty Dog Cafe. We didn't get food, but we did get T-shirts. I'm sure you've seen these shirts around. I've never seen so many as we did when we lived in Ohio. I think the entire state vacations in either Myrtle Beach or Hilton Head in the summer, and it cracks me up. 

We had a lighter dinner but a decent amount of dessert that night, and a big breakfast again in the morning. Carson and I met Mom at Alvin Ords, my favorite, for an early lunch before heading back to Tallahassee. 

Our weekend in Beaufort took an unexpected turn with Morgan, but I'm so glad she made it back to Ocala safe and sound with the baby still inside her. It would have been very exciting to say that she had a baby in South Carolina, but thankfully it didn't have to be! I had a great time with Morgan and then loved exploring with Granddaddy, Grandmama, and Carson.