Crass.

Well, Friends, I was able to drag my butt back to church yesterday. And it went ok. There were a lot of friendly faces, and then there were a lot of faces I would have loved to have NOT seen. There were your normal crass jokes and comments about pregnancy - - people who take it for granted think it's funny to make poor tasting jokes. And then the gossip. The who is pregnant and who is not. The gossip about who is making it clear they are not happy to be pregnant, which, to me, is a total insult to my sensitivities, not to mention mocking the God given blessing and opportunity to grow a baby and your family. (good run on sentence right there) Parenting is hard - pretty much. Young children are hard - pretty much. Life is hard - pretty much. I find it so offensive to listen to people bitch about motherhood and pregnancy. I find all it demonstrates is selfishness and taking your life and family for granted. I bet if one of those women had a dead baby or a deformed baby, they might think twice about it. And I really feel badly for the MANY women who have lost pregnancies, or babies, or can't even conceive in the first place. They sit there, church meeting after church meeting, and have to listen to that crap. It drives me nearly mad. I find that church caters to the blissful side of believing in a God and Savior. The focus is on miracles and answered prayer. There is not a lot of support for those who are struggling, for those that need baring up. There's a whole lot of social jibber jabber going on, and not a lot of paying attention to the true message of the gospel. You know, the part where we're supposed to learn to live more like Jesus. Whatever. People just don't get it. They know not what they do.

The children really enjoyed their primary classes (Sunday school). Olivia did really well, although was frustrated she did not know many of the songs the kids were singing. Hannah had a lot of school friends in her class - - she sure is growing into such a young lady. And Ian liked his class, although he seems a little more shy about it. The kids came home with good attitudes, and I feel accomplished that I did this HARD thing! And we'll go back next Sunday, and hopefully again and again. I think I can do this. I know I can, thick skin forming along the way.

My week is the normal busy busy. Work, clean, cook, parent - - rinse, repeat. Over and over again. I may have lost a baby, but all the dreams I had as a child for my life have come true. To be a mother. To be married to a good man. To have my own home. To have freedom and peace in my life. Praise God for those blessings, I am truly grateful.

For now we keep on living. Living with most of my family with me, and part of my family missing. My children are loved, and Isaac is loved and remembered. I am, at the very least, thankful to know where he is.


Until next time.

Misty

Resolute.

I'm not a New Years resolution kind of girl. Mainly because I break them all before January 1st is even over. This year I've been reflecting on some changes I'd like to make, though, without the added pressure of calling them resolutions.

My goal this year is to be more present in my life. The last two years of repetitive losses has been extremely hard on me, I really cannot explain it. I've been alive, but not living as well as I would like to. While I have gotten into the swing of day to day life having a dead baby, and failing at pregnancy, I want to be a better mother, I KNOW I need to be a better mother. A better wife. A better friend. I want to invest more into living without worrying if I'll lose out again. I want to be a better me. More fully available to those I love. It's time to re-enter the land of the TRULY living.

I've decided to accept the things about me that make me ME, without worrying if someone else understands. I am OK being apart of the NIELSON family - - the "anti-social family". I love my family. I love our extremely private life. I love life without feeling obligated to make someone else approve. I don't care if I don't fit in. I don't feel pressure to be part of the mold other people want to squish me into. I know who I am, I'm OK with it. I'm good with the few friends I have, I don't feel like I need to get into the rat race and try to be liked by everyone. It's not my style, and it's a waste of time. People that over extend themselves in human relationships are excusing themselves from really truly getting to know someone well, well enough to be a really good friend with them. I'll take my one or two friends over a handful of acquaintances any day. Lesson learned. I ended some friendships last year that needed to be ended. It was a long time coming. I learned to trust more fully in my gut feelings. These relationships we not good fits for me, but got beaten to death over and over again. Too exhausting. Too much drama and emotional baggage. I am glad to be done.

I want to help my family grow in the gospel this year. Which means a more concentrated effort in providing a peaceful environment in my home. It means more patience, more love, more time for teaching. It means watching my mouth and attitude. It means daily prayer and scripture reading. It means (dreaded) church attendance. Those are all things that are essential to the well being of our family. This is our year. Our year to get back into the game. It's time, even if it's something that is hard for me.

So, tell me. Where are you at? What is important to you this year?

Here's to 2011. Here's to having the faith to BELIEVE blessings are coming our way.

If you're aware of my secret blog, follow me over there. We have more to talk about.



Love, Misty

Humble pie.

A best friend of mine forwarded me an article this weekend, and I found myself sitting, reading, and laughing out loud a little bit. It touched on a VERY touchy subject: People not being there for you after a child dies.

I have to admit, I've felt that sting. I think people at church totally failed our family. There were men in leadership that promised to be at Isaac's birth and funeral, and didn't show. Didn't show. The worst trial of my life, and he didn't show. A couple people made well-meaning attempts, but because we asked for our privacy respected, people thought that meant pretend I don't exist. Don't talk to me, don't talk about Isaac, don't send cards, don't phone, don't bring dinners in, don't email, don't remember my living children, and how they are hurting, too. Don't do anything. Such Christian love.

And then of course there were the friends that dumped me because I no longer make a good friend. I'm not thoughtful enough. I don't attend their family functions and remember their birthdays. No shit. Really? I buried a kid, and had two miscarriages after that. I can't make it to walmart 1/2 the time, let alone your family functions. So sorry. Next time I'll try to make it to your husband's surprise birthday party a couple weeks after I had bloody blobs of a pregnancy lost falling out of my crotch. I should have just put my big girl undies and pads on and went, right???

And lets not forget, not only am I dealing with loss after loss - - I am still dealing with a whole lot of shit outside of that. My life has been filled with suffering, people. Try parenting when you're grieving. The cycle of abuse is so much harder to break when you're in a world of hurt. While I'm trying to function for my kids, I've had to try even harder to be a "good parent". That doesn't come naturally to me, after being abused for years. It doesn't come naturally to anyone while they are grieving. And that's been a lot of pressure on me. Try living up to expectations that make other people feel better. So while I've wanted to crawl in my bed, haunted every time I close my eyes by the images I cannot erase, I've gotten myself UP to be a "whole" mother for my children, that have also sorrowed.

My side of the family? FAILED. Andrew's side of the family FAILED. People don't want to talk about it. They want to pretend it didn't happen. They squirm. They laugh awkwardly if I bring up Isaac. Then I have a brother that put me down over every single aspect of my life. Mocked the attempt I made to help my children grieve. Told me I brought this on my whole family. And of course, I don't have parents, they failed years ago with every punch to my body and moment of love with held. My biological parents failed when they gave me away to a CHILD MOLESTER and disappeared in the middle of the night. And then of course I have grandparents that intentionally missed Isaac's funeral, but after wards came for a visit. But even after the visit, I, if lucky, got an awkward phone call maybe once every 5 months. People just want to run the other way, and they did. They truly did.

People ran the other way when I needed them the most. So where does that leave me now? Alone in a new, protected way. With out a lot of friends, which I'm ok with. With out a lot of desire to put effort into getting to know anyone outside my tight circle. And still battling church attendance. I know I have to go back. For the kids, at least, but I can't stand it. I have a lot of harsh feelings towards most people at church. They've judged me before, they've judged my husband. I failed, I stopped going, my testimony must be lost, right??? WRONG!! I don't feel welcome. I feel awkward. I hate it. But it's something I have to remedy at some point, I have to go back to where church is a "get in, get out, don't talk to anyone" kind of affair. It takes an emotional strength I don't have right now. I truly don't.

So, in any event, if you're not easily offended read here:

http://babyslime.livejournal.com/585626.html?thread=14057114#t14057114

While it's not exactly how I would put it, a lot of it rings painfully true.



Love, Misty

Happy Halloween!

Love, The Nielsons

The ins and outs.

I've written this blog post a thousand times over in my head. It's what I think about every day, it's about what pains me all of the time. It's about being in a very different place than most other baby loss mothers I know. I hesitate to share because I worry that it seems like I begrudge someone else their joy, which isn't true at all. It's so different to be a year and a half out from Isaac's death and still have nothing, when every other anencephalic mother I know has a stable pregnancy right now, in face most of those mothers have had their subsequent "rainbow" babies. I still really HATE that term. Women have shared that waiting for those subsequent pregnancies for 4, 5, 6, months have been hard. Try a year and a half. And not only that, try 2 miscarriages and one chemical pregnancy since burying your baby. It's a world of pain, a very different kind of pain. Every time I see a round belly, or a post about pregnancy, or a pregnancy update it causes me physical pain in my heart. It's hard to co-exist in a world where there are reminders EVERY where of what I lost, and of what I want so badly. The world moves on, at it's own pace, and no one has any idea about this immense heartache I carry every moment of every day. You have your do-gooders that tell me move on, to forget about it, to be thankful for what I have. Those do-gooders have no idea the skills God has given bereaved parents to cherish their living children immensely, while at the same time intensely mourning the child they lost. If you have not experienced it, you have no idea. While I was carrying Isaac and knew he would die, even I had NO idea. I had not buried him yet, and learned to live with out him yet. I had not faced more intense infertility and miscarriages after him either. I had no idea a soul could live, even joyfully in the world, and still hurt this badly. It's a God given strength to be able to carry this load, most days I would beg to give it away.

After carefully praying, I have received the answer that is would be the acceptable time to proceed with the Clomid again. I have not decided how quickly I will move forward with that, but I have started again on my low carb, no refined sugar diet, and have given up Diet soda containing caffeine again. From what I can tell there was no ovulation this month, so I am waiting to see if my period comes around on it's own. If it does not, I may wait a couple weeks, and proceed with Provera to induce a period, and then move forward quickly after that. The idea is exciting to me. Every single day I think about a baby. I think about all of the things I would do to prepare. I imagine hearing a baby cry again, after Isaac was silent in his birth and death. I imagine shopping and buying diapers and baby lotion. I imagine seeing my kids hold a new baby again for the first time after their brother dieing. I imagine getting to do all of those tender things again, that I lost in Isaac's death. I imagine the feeling of creating with our Maker, I have loved being pregnant so much in the past. It would be such a blessing, even if a fearful experience, to get to experience that again.

It had been really hard for me having Olivia in preschool. I thought it would get easier, but each time she leaves my heart breaks a little extra. I miss her, even if she is truly enjoying herself. It's been so good for her, I have been so pleased to see her be such a nice playmate. She certainly is the ring master at home, but has learned to be a friend to children her own age. I'm really proud of her, just sad over my broken heart.

The holidays are approaching, and I am do things my way this year. Last year was so heartbreaking, but I have some excitement over Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. I warned my mother in law that I was not attending the huge holiday hooplah, and that I was do my holidays MY way this year. I tried to suck it up and did too much last year, and in the end, it just hurt me more. This year I'm doing things how I want, in hopes of being able to appreciate and enjoy the joy that accompanies this time of year.

Anyways... I'm going to work for a few hours before I have to go pick up my little Olivia. Thanks for reading and listening....


Love, Misty

Trauma!

Friends,

It has been a hell of a month. Ian had surgery at the same hospital Isaac died. Try telling an eight year old he has nothing to be afraid of when he already knows bad things happen.

Hannah attended a puberty class at school and was mortified. Where did the time go???

Olivia's first day of preschool was today, and I was so heartbroken to drop her off. There are no babies at home with me anymore. That is ROUGH.

Isaac died 18 months ago today. Where on earth did the time go?

Metformin does not seem to be working on it's own, having break through bleeding. I'm armed with Provera to start a period and Clomid to make me an egg, but I'm still waiting for the Lord to give me the go ahead. Waiting is hard.

I managed to shoot our own family portraits this year. Have a look.

Until next time, going crazy....

xo Misty


PS: The white bear you see in our photographs is our Isaac bear. That bear is made out of a blanket I had Isaac swaddled in. The black and white is my favorite, with Ian holding Isaac bear out to his side. Makes me cry every time.....

Did I get it right?

I'm a person that's hard on myself. I am painfully aware of my serious faults, and I am painfully aware of how much work it takes to remedy those things. I have had the privilege to follow along while some other women have faced the same challenges I have, and I have been amazed by their strength and faith. I have found myself wondering often if I've done good enough, if I've done it right. I decided to sit down tonight and read through some of my blog posts, and I have found myself comforted by my own words. I may have not traveled this road perfectly, but I have traveled in my own way, my own style, with my own voice, recording my own feelings. I wish I had the ability to have been stronger, but I feel like I did my best. And when I didn't do my best, I feel like the Lord understood why. I feel like, that while I have not been as soft spoken and valiant in the way that I've documented my life, I realize that some people may be drawn to that. And if not, they've passed me by, and that's ok. I've done my life, my way, and with the help of my God, I'll have the strength and courage to continue to grow a little more.

I still have my empty womb. I have done my very best to enjoy where I am at, because I know change is in store for my family. God has whispered that to my soul. I have had a hard time learning that change comes in the Lord's timing, and not mine. I have tried to listen harder, and to obey more quickly. I can't say that I've learned those lessons well or even speedily, but I'm doing my best.

As I laid next to Olivia during nap time this afternoon, my thoughts turned to my Heavenly Father, and I prayed, as best as I could to know WHAT to do. What do I do now, what is His timing?? As the tears slipped down my cheeks, and I felt my heart sorrowing as it has for the past couple years, I prayed for healing. The same healing I have been begging to find for months. And while I am not handed peace in the fullest form, I have learned that I am handed as much as I need to get me through. Enough to keep me afloat, but not enough to take the pain I feel away. For now, it's enough to get me by. For now, I am eagerly waiting for what the Lord has in store, whatever that may be.

I think of my Isaac, and the love and courage that he has filled my life with. I see him in the faces of my children, and I feel him in his memories that fill our home. I know he is busily serving his Maker, but I wish so much he had been mine to keep. Some days I reflect on my life, and I just cannot believe that I have managed to survive this. I may not have flourished, but I have survived.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. ~ Philippians 4:13


Love, Misty