Archive | September, 2012

Shopping Cart

24 Sep

This little shopping cart is one of Ruby’s favorite toys. She loves to fill it up, push it around, and even sit in it.


Last Beach Day

22 Sep

We went down to Lavallette and spent some time at the beach today. It was super windy and a bit too cold to swim but our beach baby still had a wonderful time.




20 Sep

Ruby created some chalk art on our patio yesterday.

Here she is just being lazy today.



17 Sep

We are trying to get Ruby to go to sleep but she prefers stacking her blocks.



18 months

15 Sep

Ruby is 18 months old today. My wonderful in-laws came down this weekend and we have had such a nice day. Ruby is growing like a weed and needed new shoes so we got her two new pairs, including these ruby slippers that she picked out.

After shoe shopping she got to ride on the little carousel at the mall, which she enjoyed more than this picture would have you believe.

I’m doing a little better every day, and have been greatly blessed and encouraged by the outpouring of love we have received.



Sweet Ruby

13 Sep

Ruby has been particularly sweet to me the past few days. I think that she can sense that something is wrong and she has been giving me lots of hugs and kisses and also laughs. One of her favorite things lately is to take her blood pressure with my new blood pressure cuff. As you can see she is quite serious about it.

I am doing better but still am pretty shocked. Thank you all so much for all of the love and prayers. I was hesitant about sharing my story but am so glad that I did–all of the support that I have received has been amazing.



12 Sep

As I write this I am miscarrying my baby.

It is very painful.

Physically, yes, but emotionally–spiritually–much more so.

I feel…so…broken.

And I miss my tiny baby.  My itty bitty baby who never had a heartbeat, but who we loved nonetheless.  I am (was?) seven weeks pregnant with our second child.  Ruby, our first, is delightful and brave.  And busy.  Always busy.  At 18 months she is in desperate need of a sibling, and I am oh so ready to give her one.

I’ve been ready, for awhile now, but just wasn’t getting pregnant.  Finally we used the First Response Ovulation Test and conceived the first month.  We found out on August 18th.  We were ecstatic.

I started spotting a week and a half ago, and went in for an ultrasound.  Everything looked ok and it was still a little early for a heartbeat, but I sensed that something was amiss.  I didn’t feel pregnant–I felt amazing, energetic–and thought that maybe I was just very lucky this time around.  Maybe I would avoid the nausea and crushing exhaustion I had experienced with Ruby.  Outwardly I attributed this to paleo.

Deep down inside I think I knew.

Yesterday the spotting got worse.  After consulting with the advice nurse over the phone I went in for an ultrasound and a chat with one of the midwives.   I had the same ultrasound tech as last week, and she was so nice.  She took a long time, but still could not detect a heartbeat, and the baby had not grown since last week.

The midwife, Laura, broke the news that we would lose the baby.  She was lovely and reassuring and kind.  She said all the right things: that I had no trouble getting pregnant, that I carried Ruby to term, that I would have more beautiful, healthy babies.  I sobbed and sobbed.  Matty, my mom, and Ruby were all there with me.  They were sad too, but rocks for me to lean on.  Laura said that she would do a blood test to be sure, and then we could discuss my options: miscarrying at home, with or without medication; or a D&C.

I didn’t end up needing any confirmation, nor did I have time to think about options.  Last night, shortly after arriving home from the hospital, the bleeding and cramping got exponentially worse, and lasted through the night.  I tried to sleep, to no avail.  I cried, watched reruns of sitcoms on late-night TV, and came downstairs to start writing this post.  Eventually the pain subsided enough for me to fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

Yesterday was the eleventh anniversary of 9/11.  Compared to the tragedy of that horrible day, my pain is tiny, minuscule.  To me it is vast and deep.  We will never know this baby, never hold him or her in our arms.  Ruby will never kiss the baby’s tiny cheek.

Now I understand why expectant mothers wait until after the first trimester to announce a pregnancy.  I dislike keeping secrets, especially happy ones, and there is no history of miscarriage among my maternal grandmother (nine children), my mother (five), or my older sister (four).  We joke that God gave us child-bearing hips for a reason.  At 30 I am still young; surely this couldn’t happen to me.

So I told people, and now I have to un-tell them, and that just seems like a terrible burden right now.

know that I am blessed beyond measure; with a loving, supportive husband and family, and with a daughter who is precocious and sweet.  We wanted this baby, had already carved out a space for him or her, and I am not yet ready to let go and move on.

Goodbye sweet baby, you are loved.  I carry you in my heart.