Charlie, The Dog Whisperer

Eleven Months

Somehow my tiny just over 6 pound baby has turned into a whopping 18.8 pound almost toddler. This means many things...less inclined to sleep, more inclined to climb, no time to waist smiling for the camera, getting into everything, and many more bonks and bangs.

It's really a shame that she won't smile for the camera any more, cause her little grin is a show stopper. She's fearless, as anyone ignorant to consequence might be, attempting to launch herself over the back of the couch, off the bed, through the crib rails...whatever is nearby. With one clear exception. Boys are terrifying. Especially boys with facial hair. While this could come in handy in high school, we're trying to work her through it for now.

She is getting closer to standing on her own, and is happiest when she's able to stand and bounce for long periods of time. She's still rocking two teeth, but all signs point to at least 6 more getting ready to pop (please soon, please soon). Currently, her favorite toy is an empty bottle of ginger ale, go figure.

She has gotten increasingly more giggly, something she used to make you work for, so that has been a lot of fun. She has also gone from screaming angrily whenever a book was opened (they were delightful as long as they stayed closed) to loving books, especially Pat the Bunny. I think she's memorized it, cause her hands immediately fly to the activities, her favorite being Peek A Boo.

Speaking of peek a boo, this is an all day, every day game. Anything in her hands becomes a hiding place. She's learned to snatch it in different directions for an element of surprise, and is always thrilled when we respond with a "Boo!"

Being eleven months is tiring business. I can't believe she's almost a year old!

I Heart Faces - Beautiful Eyes

Charlotte has the most beautiful blue eyes, so this seemed like a natural one to enter with a recent snapshot.

Link your own picture here.

What's Charlie Wearing Wednesday

Ten on ten and Wednesday landed on the same day...what a conundrum. So, at the risk of being repetitive and redundant (and repetitive and redundant...name that show), Here are more pictures from the same day! And, to be totally honest, one of the same pictures, cropped differently. Call me lazy.

We love classic prints around here, so I flipped for this Gingham number from Carters. I found it at Fred Meyer for $10, a bit of a splurge, but I made an exception since it included pants that could be worn with other outfits.

So there you have it...now I'm going to scramble and try to get ready for my day before this one wakes from her nap.

Ten on 10

What's Charlie Wearing Wednesday

Aside from a coon skin cap and Art Garfunkel style hair, Charlie is wearing a chevron dress from GAP outlet.

We had a busy and fun day, playing with familyand later playing with daddy on his one night off this week.

Doesn't the picture of Charlie with Mitsuki remind you a bit of this, or is it just me?

On hope, where it comes from and why we have it

I have been so blessed by the outpouring of support that has come from friends near and far. I was directed to a blog called 4 Day to Eternity, created by a family who lost their son Mason after 4 days with him. As part of their ministry, they send the book Safe in the Arms of God (truth from Heaven about the death of a child) by John MacArthur, to anyone who has lost a baby.

We know of the couple, Chris and Anna, because we briefly went to college together. If I remember right, Chris was a senior my freshman year. The college president happens to be John MacArthur. We were so happy to receive this book, knowing it was full of truths that would take us a long time to discover ourselves.

I think it's natural to wonder what happens to babies that die. I am so thankful for this book, which answers that question with biblical support, something vitally important to us.

We already know that God knows us from the womb. The passage assuring us of that was what we clung to as we waited in the hospital.

"For you formed my inward parts, you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made....You saw my unformed substance, in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." Ps. 139:13-14, 16

Excerpts from the book:

"You may think you 'made' your baby. Not so. God made your baby and breathed life into him or her. Your child is His creation." 19

"Your child has never been beyond the loving care and concern-or the watchful eye-of the Lord." 22

"He does not allow a conception that is beyond His sovereign plan and purposes." 23

Dr. MacArthur addresses the topic of the sin nature, inherent in all humans because of Adam's original sin. Having this sin nature means that eventually when faced with a choice between right and wrong, we will inevitably pick to do wrong. This begs the question, are babies condemned to hell because they are carriers of the sin nature, despite never having chosen to sin?

Because we are born with a sin nature; "we cannot say that babies who die go to heaven because they are 'sinless.' Rather, babies who die go to heaven because God is gracious." 72

Throughout Scripture, God refers to children as "The innocents." (See Jer. 2:34 and 19:4 for examples). "Though fallen creatures like all Adam's offspring, infants are not culpable in the same sense as those whose sins are will full and premeditated." 35

"The Scripture weighs very heavily toward the fact that innocent children are in heaven, redeemed and dwelling in the presence of God." 41

Though babies do not have the ability to accept Christ, Christ is gracious to accept them. Quoting John Calvin, MacArthur says, "Those little children have not yet any understanding to desire His blessing, but when they are presented to Him, He gently and kindly receives them, and dedicates them to the Father by a solemn act of blessing." 60

"The saving grace given to an infant who as no part whatsoever in his salvation is a perfect example of salvation, which is always wrought sovereignly by God through grace." 77

"If we understand God by His nature as a Savior (see 1 Tim. 1:1; 4:10), is it not the truest expression of God's heart that He chooses to save infants?" 79

I'll end with this:

"Yes, children are in need of a Savior.

"Yes, God has provided a Savior for them, Jesus Christ.

"Yes, all children who die before they reach a state of moral awareness and culpability in which they understand their sin and corruption--so that their sins are deliberate--are graciously saved eternally by God through the work of Jesus Christ. They are counted as elect by sovereign choice because they are innocent of willful sin, rebellion, and unbelief, by which works they would be justly condemned to eternal punishment." 89-90

These are small snippets of the comfort this book, written through searching of the Scriptures, can give. There is so much more, but I'll leave it here.

We know Isaiah is with Christ, free from all the pain and hardship, as well as the sin and temptation of this world. We do not grieve that he is with Christ, we grieve only for ourselves, for our empty arms, for the son we can't know until we are reunited. He has gone ahead of us...but we will be reunited in Perfection.

If you have questions, please let me know, I'll do my best to answer or direct you to someone who can.

On us, three weeks later

It's been nearly a month since Isaiah was taken Home. How are we doing? I don't really know.

Most of the time we're fine.

Physically:

I'm pretty much healed from the delivery. This helps a lot, I think, with the fits of anger I had the first two weeks after he left us. My appetite, after an initial decrease, is back to normal. Unfortunately, my hair, which has just started growing back from my post-Charlie-pardem hair loss, coming back in wild wings in awkward places, is now falling out again. This is very frustrating, not to mention disgusting. I can't pick Charlie up from the floor without then having to pluck obscene amounts of hair from between her toes and fingers...sigh.

I am still very tired. No one told Charlie that mommy's body is recovering from chaos, and filling to the brim with excess hormones, so she's being the busy 10 month old she is, and I'm doing my best to keep up on about 6 hours of sleep a night.

Emotionally:

Initially I had such a great perspective on this whole thing. The baby center we were in plays a little lullaby every time a baby was born, and as I labored to birth our stillborn son, I surprised myself with being happy for those mommy's who were marvelling over their new baby. I had expected to be bitter, but I was so glad that they were spared from my pain. I also surprised myself to discover that it's now that I'm bitter. I see pregnant women everywhere, and experience varying levels of jealousy, from slight (generally people I know) to extreme (strangers). I see people carrying newborns or playing with their baby boys and feel a lot of self pity. Why did this have to happen to us, is a common refrain in my mind.

I've learned the things that will set me off - some I can avoid (gazing at the baby boy clothes at H&M and thinking of what I would be buying had things gone differently), some I can't (pregnant women are every where. You can't dodge 'em.)

I often want to feel numb. I have a stack of cards and a dried rose from a flower arrangement waiting to find their place in the keepsake box from the hospital. Although the box is sitting in my line of vision most of the day, I dread opening it, and feeling the pain that, in a way, I've buried in it. As long as I don't open that box, see his tiny footprints, the notes from our nurses, the reminders of the son who went ahead of us, I can contain myself. I don't have to feel.

It's a really hard thing, grieving for someone who was such a large part of you, but whom you never knew. I don't really know how to do it. For 19 weeks he was growing in me, reminding me he was there first with cravings for salty foods, then spicy foods, then with the nudges that a mother can't get enough of. Then he was gone. In my arms for the briefest moment, then presented to me as ashes in a little wooden box. It's almost surreal. I told a friend recently that sometimes I feel like I'm recovering from a disease. I was hospitalized, sent home to recover, then sent a nice big bill as a reminder. There's no baby at my breast, no first smiles to wait eagerly for, just another bill to stress over.

Tim is experiencing this in an entirely different way. When he told his coworkers that we lost the baby, the reaction, for the most part was, "Oh yeah, I knew someone who had a miscarriage once. That sucks." and on they go with whatever work related thing they have.

To say "That sucks" to someone who actually held his dead child in his arms doesn't cut it. I watched my husband sob when the nurse sadly said, "A little baby boy," as she wrapped him up for us to hold. Tim clung to him, holding him longer than even I did, kissing his face, gazing at his hands, already missing the boy we'll never know. So, I'm beyond frustrated that his coworkers aren't more sympathetic, and even more so that some of them hold grudges over having to cover for him for those three days he took to be with me in the hospital and at home while we grieved.

Reading this through, it kinda sounds like we're a mess. Sometimes we (usually me) are. But day to day, we're doing really well. We have hope and faith that Isaiah is with Christ in Heaven, and that eases the blow of his loss immensely. It enables us to pull ourselves, or eachother, from despair. To seek strength in the Lord. To be better parents to Charlie, not taking her for granted. This post was written purely from my human response to my loss, but there's a lot more to it.

We have hope, and I'm going to tell you about it. Read on, friends.

10 Months Old

This goofy girl is ten months old! She is definitely her own person now, with clear opinions, a quirky sense of humor and an overly adventurous spirit.

Here she was attempting to wrangle the camera. Successfully. She's into everything, "Charlie-crawling" any where she wants to be. I just caught her in a cubby of our bookcase, spinning the three globes that rest there. She's just started pulling up on anything (or anyone) she can reach, and loves nothing more than things that aren't toys.

It is now impossible to get her to be still for a picture. The majority of the pictures I've taken lately are of the top of her cute little head. Which is still quite bald. But considering that's where she wipes her food covered hands after a meal, maybe bald isn't so bad.

Also:

She's up to three meals a day with plenty of bottles between.

She's way to long for any of her pants...good thing it's finally summer weather.

She's learned to give kisses...very friendly kisses :)

She claps like it's going out of style.

When playing peek a boo, she now hides for up to 30 seconds before pulling away from whatever object she's using with a "Da!"

She still doesn't use any words discriminately, but she does jabber a lot.

She averages 9 hours of sleep a night, three hours of naps a day.

Shoes make her happy. Just like her mama.

She's back in her crib, with no sign of missing her tiny pack'n'play.

She's still rocking two teeth, but actively working on a third.

She is violently opposed to green veggies, meat, and cinnamon.

She is daring, throwing herself to where she wants to be, and has bumps and bruises to prove it.

She is never happier than when you are helping her flip, dangling her upside down, or letting her scale furniture.

She's awesome.

What's Charlie Wearing Wednesday

Last week was unseasonably cool, even for Seattle, so long pants were sported all week. Here, Charlie is wearing a ruffle onesie from Old Navy, found on clearance for somewhere around $2.

The pants are Carter's from a set with a long sleeved onesie - a gift. And the socks were also a gift, I'm not sure of the brand, but they originally had little rosebuds sewn all over them. Those were removed after a couple of wears, leaving us with little mary janes.

This is the second top that I put Charlie in for these pictures - teething = puking around these parts, so wardrobe changes are constant...these are also the first pictures of her holding herself up without someones hands hovering behind to catch her if she falls. Which she did - flat on her back. Oops.

Both the top and pants are Old Navy, both clearance for under $3 a pop. The pants (which have gold polka dots change from Capri's to Bermuda shorts, and were such a good deal I bought them in multiple colors and sizes...Tomorrow Charlie will be 10 months old, so we'll be posting more pictures soon, as well as what she's up to these days. I'm still working out a post with an update on how we're doing post-Isaiah, so that should appear soon too. Have a good day, friends!

Charlie's New Stuff

The girl is growing. Rapidly. So, I've been shopping. Thriftily.

I have been waiting and waiting for these to go on sale. They were $10 at Target, yesterday I found them for $4.

I love Melissa&Doug products. I found they're wooden blocks on sale at the As Seen on TV store at the Supermall of all places. $13.

I've been smushing her feet into size 3's for months, so I caved and got her a bunch of size 4 & 5's.

Koala's - $3 st Old Navy, Pink Mary Janes - free at TJ Maxx with gift card (Thanks Chie!), Pink Patent Leather Mary Janes - $3 at Kid to Kid consignment shop, Blue sandals - $6 at Old Navy, Fuchsia boots - $3 at Kid to Kid.

Melissa&Doug stacking boxes, free at TJ Maxx

Charlie's wardrobe has so far been primarily provided by baby shower gifts. She's now reached the size where people rarely give gifts in, so I'm slowly stocking up on 18 & 24 month items. Here's what I have from Kid to Kid (total spend, probably less than $30)

Lots of fleece Carter's sleepers for the winter

Cherokee sweater dress, Old Navy gingham dress

Cherokee motorcycle jacket, Gymboree rain coatChristmas Carter's sleepers - snowmen and penguins

In my experience with baby shopping, patience and scavenging used clothing saves you a TON. Everything goes on sale, and you can nearly always find the "current styles" used. (Cause baby styles change all the time, right?)

So, there you have it. Grown up stuff for my growing up baby.

What's Charlie Wearing Wednesday

Charlie is becoming a ham as she gets older. She knows what to do when the camera comes out (most of the time), though she's having more trouble sitting still than she used to.

This outfit was a gift from our friend Zib. It's a little Carter's ditty, complete with ruffle butt, and a bee embroidered on the front. Cute, easy on, easy off, what more could you want?

See what I mean about the ham? That third picture cracks me up. It barely even looks like her. This outfit is from our friend Laura, and she brought it back from a shop in Australia, called Charlie Belle, believe it or not. It's so cute with the patchwork elephant and super ruffle butt.

As for the rest of us, we're doing pretty well. Tim is back to more than full time work (but he has this weekend off to celebrate our 7th anniversary), I'm coming out of my funk a bit, even going so far as to clean two different rooms today. I'm blessed to have many friends willing to distract me or listen to me, depending on my mood. Charlie is ever moving, keeping me on my toes. She's still resistant to crawling, but the allure of things out of reach is getting to her, so I don't think her resistance will hold much longer.

Physically, I'm still dealing with contractions as my body returns to normal, which is emotionally challenging, because a lot of the movements I feel are so similar to baby movements. It doesn't help the yearning to hold my baby when I feel like he's still in there squirming around, and have to remind myself that he's gone.

Blessedly, Charlie has been a joy. The past two days she's woken too early, so I've given her a bottle and then laid her on my chest until she falls back asleep. Then, two hours or so later, I wake to a tiny finger tracing down my nose, and open my eyes to huge blue ones staring back and giddy laughter. It's been the highlight of my day. Tonight she woke up 45 minutes after I put her to bed, and as I held her and coaxed her back to sleep she gazed at me with heavy eyes and just grinned and giggled herself to sleep. She's also been extra cuddly, holding me together when I feel like I might fall apart. She's such a blessing. I love her.

In a parallel universe...

...I would be getting ready to go find out I was having a boy, instead of getting ready to pick our car up from the shop.

...I would be meeting my friend Meghan there, and she would play with and distract Charlie.

...I would be heading to the store to buy this, and putting it in a box with a blue balloon that would float out when opened.

...I would be driving to Tim's office to surprise him with said box.

It was going to be a great day.

Truthfully, I don't always have the holiest outlook on this situation.

Yesterday I sat down with my coffee, looked at Tim and burst into tears, complaining that my "human" summer clothes (read, not maternity) were out of style. He offered to take me shopping for new clothes, and I got even weepier, saying, "But I don't want to wear regular clothes! I want to be pregnant!" Poor guy. He couldn't win.

I wish, much to frequently, for a mulligan. Just a little trek back to a few weeks ago, and everything could go differently.

I continually scold myself for having complained about anything pregnancy related, and for worrying about logistics instead of enjoying the life within me.

Grieving is an unpredictable process, one I sometimes handle with grace, and other times with petty selfishness and whining.

If I'm being honest.

There's no real point to this post, just thoughts running through my head, needing an outlet.

For my birthday, I had a son

(This will be long, and hard...feel free to skip it. I just want to log it while it's fresh in my memory, and this is pretty much the only place I write...)

Wednesday July 6th, I went in for my 19 week OB exam. I was vaguely worried, because I'd been feeling the baby move for a few weeks, and the last 4 days or so I hadn't. I'd also noticed that suddenly things were too spicy...and impossibility the week before. I pushed these things out of my head and walked through the office doors. A half hour later, the fear I'd refused to acknowledge was confirmed as my doctor fruitlessly searched for the baby's heartbeat. She wheeled in an ultrasound machine, keeping it turned away from me, then took me to a bigger ultrasound machine and showed me my little baby, and its missing heartbeat.

I was given a few minutes to collect myself and call Tim, then was given an insane amount of information about how to proceed, most of which bounced right off of my ringing ears. I came away with the understanding that one way or another, I was delivering our tiny beloved baby on Friday.

Thursday afternoon I was given laminaria, a seaweed based induction agent. I went home to let the process start overnight. Friday morning, Tim and I checked into the birth center, were put in a secluded room (they were sensitive to keep us apart from evidence of live births) and introduced us to our nurse, Evie. I began sobbing as soon as the nurse entered the room, so she gave us some time to come to terms with the reason we were there. Soon after that, my OB came in and removed the laminaria and started me on cytotec, which would continue my dilation and kick start labor. For the next several hours I experienced increasingly stronger contractions while Tim and I researched names with beautiful and hopeful meanings. We tucked prospective names in the back of our minds, and read Psalm 139 for comfort. We discussed God's grace upon unborn babies, and our faith that He was already holding this little one I was cherishing in my womb.

Tim's parents brought Charlie in to see us, since it had become clear that this wouldn't be a quick process, and we would be spending our first night away from her. Unfortunately, this time was when my contractions started getting more painful, and I had to stop everything when I had one - about every 4-5 minutes. I hung in for awhile, but could tell I was grouchy and impatient, so we called for an epidural and said goodbye to Charlie and Tim's parents. It was about 4:00. The epidural was given around 4:45, and it hurt. A lot. I said "Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow," which surprised Tim, because I tend to be silent in my pain, but as soon as the medicine started I completely forgot that there was ever pain. Pretty soon I felt no pain, just a lot of heaviness in my legs. I was completely paralyzed, and my feet were hanging heavily off the bed (this is one time that long legs was not a blessing). I continually made Tim shift my leg to a more comfortable position, and was amazed that he could lift those 1000 ton things.

At this point I was given another dose of cytotec, and told how I was progressing. My dad came to visit after this exam, and just sat with us for a few hours. We talked a little, watched some How I Met Your Mother, and just whiled away the time. He left around 7, and Tim and looked at names a little more. Our nurses switched. Maria tended to my every need, almost seemed to know them before I told her. My blood pressure had been low and inconsistent ever since the epidural, so she called the anaesthesiologist in the adjust my dosage, and she checked on me constantly. I was given meds to bring my blood pressure back up, and then I tried to sleep, and Tim fell asleep immediately. A few hours later I felt the pressure shift, and I new I was about to deliver. It was about 11:00, and I started saying, "Tim." Nothing. "Tim. Tim. TIM. TIM!" Finally, he woke, and called the nurse, trying to explain what I had told him, ending with "but you should probably come talk to her, cause I'm half asleep." Maria came in, and saw that the water bag was coming, called the doctor and told me just to breathe.

My doctor came in, explained what she was seeing, and then told me she had an emergency c-section to do, and asked me to fight against the urge to push, she'd be back in a half hour. Another doctor was made aware, and a few minutes later I woke Tim again (he was tired) and told him it was time, and get the nurse now.

Maria, a doctor and another nurse came in. Despite my not pushing, the intact water bag holding the baby had slipped out with the help of contractions. I pushed to get the placenta out, though I couldn't feel if I was pushing, so I was constantly apologizing and asking if I was doing it. Eventually the doctor opened the bag, and the baby was cleaned.

The nurse told us "It's a little boy," and Tim began sobbing. They brought him to us, and Tim held him first. He was the size of my hand, not fully formed, but his tiny face already had similarities to Charlie's face, his hands, smaller than dimes had all their fingers, and the smallest fingernails you can imagine. His feet were the same way, tiny and beautiful.

I held my son in my arms just after midnight, as the day became my 30th birthday. He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping, cradled in my hands. I looked at Tim, and, in my post delivery haze, I said, "I know we haven't talked about this name, but what about Isaiah, since we've found such comfort in the Isaiah 139 passage?" Tim immediately agreed that it was perfect, and seconds later we realized that the passage was Psalm 139, but we didn't care. His name was Isaiah. It came out of nowhere, but fit better than any of the other names we'd discussed.

We passed him back and forth between us, took pictures, touched his tiny hands, and talked with him. I told him I loved him, that I was so sorry he couldn't stay with us, and that we would always miss him.

Eventually we gave him to the nurse, sobbing. She carefully took hand and footprints, made a mold of his footprints, and called the photography company to schedule an early morning session. They told her that they only do pictures for babies 20 weeks or older, so this amazing woman bought a disposable camera, dressed our baby and took pictures in the studio for us. She was amazing, going above and beyond in every way.

It was about 2 am, and Tim and I went to sleep. I woke a few hours later, and Maria changed my bedding and whispered, "Next time, He will have a happier ending for you." She then told me Isaiah's measurements, 9 ounces, 7.9 inches. She told me she'd taken the pictures, and we could get them developed when we were ready, and put a fabric keepsake box on my bedside table, telling me to open it later.

In the morning I opened the box and found cards from the whole nursing staff, the mold of his footprints, cards with his hand and footprints, a tiny blue teddy bear, a journal, a sachet and a few other trinkets.

A few hours later we were discharged.

I was dreading sharing my birthday with this event. But, as it unfolded, I found it to be so much more peaceful and healing than I expected. If you can only hold your baby one time, it should be on a momentous and memorable day...I love that I share my birthday with him. It can't be overlooked or forgotten, it's a part of my life.

He will be missed and longed for every day, but we know that the Lord is holding him close. Isaiah's name means "Yahweh is my salvation," and that is where our comfort lies. His accidental name is perfect.

Psalm 139:13-16

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them.

Made By Me Monday/4th of July

I hope everyone had a happy 4th! I had a lot of fun dressing Charlie up in red white and blue, playing Monopoly with Tim and eating a giant meal of ribs, corn on the cob, salad, watermelon and bread, followed by strawberry shortcake at my dad's.

Charlie wasn't so excited about posing for a picture initially, but Tim and I stuck with it, and got some cute shots of the Squirt. Notice the red shoes...I have some very similar:
For the Made By Me Monday portion, I attempted to make

white chocolate strawberries with blue sugar sprinkles. But, I couldn't find the sprinkles. So, I went with red white and blue candy sprinkles. The didn't turn out as pretty as I'd hoped, and before I was half way done the chocolate clumped up and caramelized...so we got a few festive strawberries out of the deal. But they tasted good!

We didn't blow up, or even watch any fireworks (we saw one by accident while we were loading the car.) We were more concerned with getting Charlie to sleep despite the noise and keeping her cool on such a toasty evening. But we're fine with that. Explosives aren't really our thing.

Did you do anything fun and delightful?