October Wrap Up

I blink and a month has passed. At the same time it takes endless patience (which I lack) to survive each day. Bed time, even on the best of days is met with a sigh of relief. We made it through the day!

October treated us beautifully. Really, the blessings are abundant.

Our month had celebrations of multiple kinds.

First, we found out what kind of baby #6 is. We laughed SOOOO much.

Of course he's a he. What else would he be? 

We enjoyed the leaves changing with incredibly mild weather, and celebrated Halloween multiple times. It was declared from boys all that Power Rangers were the thing this year. So, yeah. Power Rangers. Not my fave, but cute kids nonetheless. 

We did the ward Trunk or Treat ANNNND Trick or Treat here in our little town. It was awesome. The town takes candy donations throughout the month of October, then distributes them to the residents on Main Street and everyone in the whole town trick or treats right on Main Street. It's magic, like a movie. We had so much fun. 

October was awesome. Now we're into the chill of November, trying not to dread winter. (We are dreading winter.) November is a month with two birthdays and my second favorite Holiday! So, we have lots to look forward to still. 

We Continue To Hope

Things don't always go as planned.

 I know this. I've learned and relearned this.

So, when we found out, after three losses, then, after a lot of difficulties, testing, etc, that we were again expecting, I didn't feel anything close to excitement. Nope.

All my pregnancy joy and excitement had died, it seemed, back in February.

All I felt instead was a feeling of bleakness, and said to Derek, "Well, we'll see."

Weeks were spent in a state of high anxiety/near panic. Every twinge, every stretch was, "Am I miscarrying?"

Exhausted by the end of the day, I'd fall into bed and think, "Made it through another day. We'll see what happens tomorrow."

It.was.awful.

Part of the exhaustion was anxiety, but part of it was trying to NOT feel anxious. Ferevently, I'd lean on my God to just help me feel peace instead of fear, make my faith greater than the terror. See, I KNOW in my heart, that faith is better, that no matter what happens we'll be okay, but putting it into practice is and continues to be very hard.

Add to the anxiety, near debilitating "morning" (yeah right) sickness, and constant exhaustion, and well, it doesn't take much imagination to guess my house was in shambles and my spirit pretty battered. We couldn't hide it from the kids, with my being so out of commission. They took the news fine. Mostly because I simply said, "We're hoping for a baby in the spring."

For so long, all we had was hope.

Yet, through it all, everything continues to look great with the pregnancy. Everything IS great. My 12 week appointment was yesterday, and while still considered and treated as "high risk" Baby keeps on growing, and making me fat and tired.

It's so awesome.

It's taken me a long to time to feel okay. Then to go from "okay" to excited. And now? Well. I know tomorrow it could all change. It could all go away. But I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to be grateful TODAY for God's gifts. Today, I'm 12 weeks and some change, pregnant with our baby. We're so hopeful for a March birthday, just as spring is springing. Every day is a victory.

If it all goes away, I'm still going to be grateful for the journey.

(Baby, happy and healthy about two weeks ago)

Life on the Farm, and Hope

Winter is streaky this year, freezing, thawing, freezing, snowing on TOP of the sheets of ice. I'm trying not to be completely offended by the entire season, but frankly it isn't going well.

The ice has caused the gate to the goats to get stuck and break, so now I have to suck in my ever-expanding belly along with my marshmallow puffy coat in order to squeeze in to feed those menaces. Additionally, they are BORED and also offended by the weather, and escape at every given opportunity. Since they free range in the warm weather, the fact that they are loose would be less of an issue except that the lack of forage when they escape has led them to chewing on my house. This is unacceptable.

But, the bright side is, regardless of the bitter cold, freezing cold snowy days, our little chicken ladies keep on laying. I'm very grateful. We've seen a bit of a drop, somedays only getting one or two eggs, but many days we get four or five. With five chickens I'd call that success. Getting them in the house before they freeze is a challenge though.

So, our little farm life isn't without it's worries or fears. I worry every night when I see how low the temp will drop, even bringing all the birds in one night when the temps were way below zero. The goats were fine, a nice thick layer of bedding and another, along with their spongy, wooly winter coats kept them comfortable. But, I stress and worry. We have had a bout of some sort of respiratory virus with both the girls, but they got over it fine, and are not worse for the wear.

It's a funny life we're choosing here. I think about undoing it all the time. Maybe I don't REALLY want to do this. Maybe the stress and worry is too much. Maybe my heart just can't take it.

I come in from chasing a wily, house-chewing goat back in her pen AGAIN and declare to Derek that THIS TIME I mean it, sell the damn goats on Craigslist!

But I don't mean it.

 I have a tendency to pull away from strong emotions, to distance myself from things that hurt or might hurt (I'm human) and I know that our little farm is a breeding ground for heartbreak, just like it is for good things.

But then I find myself at the farm store, reaching for books like these, bringing them home, and dreaming of spring when I can plant, then summer when I can chase goats from my strawberries, and hope for the future, for the new life that is promised.

So, life on this micro-farm is changing, growing, expanding. We'll plant and toil and chase and hope.

Hope

I...

I know people are expecting a pregnancy announcement soon.

I've never ever made it a secret that we aren't done. I feel like, despite it being NO ONE's business whether my uterus is inhabited, or ever will be inhabited again, that if I'm open and honest then people are less judgey when I announce another baby on the way. It's just best to prepare people. No surprises.

Additionally, I tend to time babies (not on purpose...) so that they land earthside around 20-21 months after the last one did. Okay, it's kind of on pupose now, FIVE kids later, but it didn't start out that way.

So.

So when I got that very much anticipated pregnancy test POSITIVE in early August, it was like, "Yeah, okay, Miriam will be one next week, perfect timing."

But I knew it wasn't meant to be. I couldn't count on this one to stick. Oh I wanted it to work. I knew it wouldn't. I tried to brush it off as nerves, or early pregnancy worry or being paranoid, but I knew.

I knew.

Then it became a matter of when. "Please, don't let me have a miscarriage today," I prayed. "It's Miriam's birthday. Not today."

Then, a week later, still pregnant, getting sicker by the day, "Please not today, today is my birthday. Not on my birthday."

Then for a week straight, "It can't happen on vacation, I don't know how to handle that. Please, not on vacation."

Finally. The morning after we got home, it started.

I knew it was going to happen, but that didn't stop the heartbreak. Or the hope.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe it was just spotting. I've spotted in pregnancy twice before and everything was fine.

Maybe. I knew probably not. But maybe.

By the next afternoon though, my hope was gone. The tiny fragment I'd held onto... I  held in my hand.

Impossibly tiny. And gone.

I buried our Hope under my peach trees.

****

I told almost no one initially that I was pregnant. How could I, when I knew it wouldn't last? I didn't want to deal with UNtelling everyone, seeing looks of pity, of sorrow, of understanding. I couldn't deal with it. I appreciate love and support,  but damn it, I was so relieved that no one knew. I couldn't even say it outloud, I was grateful not to have to tell anyone that our hope had grown wings.

But then, at the worst possible time, people started ASKING. "Are you pregnant?" "Will we be hearing an announcement soon?" It wasn't just one person or even two, it was happening a lot.

Oh. That was worse than not telling anyone. They didn't know. So of course people were wondering...

I know people only mean well. I know that if they don't know what's happened, they can't help but wonder.

But it hurts worse, having to explain.

I'm not an open person--not when it comes to emotions. Everything is fine. I'm great, life is perfect.

And usually it is! Really! So when it gets rough, I don't tell people. I don't let anyone in.

****

Miscarriage is so weird. It's weird because it's not real, not to the world around. It's small and a blip, and it doesn't necessarily incapacitate or injure.

But it is real.

It is hope and prayer and love and anticipation. It is physical changes and dreams and excitement.

Then, it's gone.

And it hurts so much you feel like you'll never stop hurting.

Then you berate yourself for feeling so deeply about something that was so little.

But it is real.

Tiny. Short-lived. Real.

Just because you can't see something doesn't make it not real.

****

So no pregnancy announcements from me today.

I swear, when it happens, I'll letcha know.