A Moment

I look over the mess of files, trying to decipher the method to my madness.

I remember exactly what had come over me. “My daughter just died. Did we really just bury her?” How could this have happened without me knowing? My daughter just died.”

My freelance design project turned out to be due immediately after Christmas, just two weeks after we found out Lyra's heart stopped beating. There was no one else to do the project for me, so I just pushed through and got it done. The brochures turned out fine...great even. But it was all done in a haze with my heart barely beating.

And as I looked over my files to do some revisions on that brochure this past week, I realized how out of it I had been. I didn't do anything irresponsible in regards to my client's work, I just didn't do what I normally did in taking better notes, and being better organized. It just wasn't my normal method of operation.

Of course, we here in the BL community know that after your baby(s) die, there's no going back to “normal”. It's a new state of being that we exist in. And I was very much reminded of that as I worked on this project again. My brain sought out answers to questions that were popping up, and I just couldn't remember what I had done...why I had done certain things in a certain way.

But I do remember her sweet hands, and those perfect little feet of hers. And that the nurses said she had red hair. And that she was everything we'd been hoping for. And that I loved her so much.

I'm finishing up that project this week, establishing some better notes and files to work with in case there are future revisions. This time I have a little boy squealing and reminding me that he needs a nap.

But as memories of her hang in the air, it feels like he and Lyra are occupying the same moment together.  

Mothering

I write this post on the tail end of several other bloggers already having written about something similar. Of course I didn't mark who the blogger was, and my mind is crap and can't find the two posts that I am thinking of...please forgive me. I'd like to be sure and say that I'm not writing in response to those posts...I appreciated the dialogue and experience of the women who wrote. I'm writing this based on my own experience in real life, and not in the blogging world.

I'm broaching the topic of the different ways of mothering...mainly the narrow topic of being a stay at home mom (SAHM) and a working out of home mom (WOHM). (I say narrow because I know there are work at home moms, stay at home dads, etc.)

I know people who have chosen to work out of home because they want a career. I know people who have chosen to stay home because they desire that. I know people who would like to be home, but need the income, so have a career out of home. Each is a different avenue of mothering, but it is still that...care for their children. I respect each of those avenues, because I know each decision was not lightly made.

As I've mentioned in another post that I'm not bothering to find the link to, I feel looked down upon because I have chosen to be a SAHM. I'm not going to give reasons for why I think I'm right, or WOHM's are right, or the pros and cons of either of them, because honestly, I'm sure everyone has had their part in this discussion already. I merely wish for the respect back that I've given to others, with the decisions they've made in regards to their families. Respect for the fact that I relish every moment with my son since I don't get any with my daughter. Respect for the fact that L is glad for me to be at home with Simon. Respect for my decision, whether it's something that they would do or not.

And that's all I'll say about that topic.

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I hate being far away from Lyra's grave. I don't know if her tiger's are still there. I don't know if it's mowed, or if the grass has died, or the wind has blown her glass stars off. Simon has struggled so much in the car, that it's been hard to do just the basic travel we've done, without doing extra trips to see her plot. It feels the only way to mother her, and I've failed.

Random: Wind and Projects

I'm sitting here in a quiet house, listening to the loud wind outside. There is always wind. I thought it was windy in our last location, but where we are now is even windier. Good hair days only happen if you stay inside and never leave the house. And if there are a few moments of no wind, you about fall over because you're so used to leaning into it all the time.


It's a constant. Which is comforting in it's own bizarre way.


Sweet Cynthia contacted me after she lost her little baby girl, Nara, and we exchanged some messages, one of which included this: "I will go and say "Lyra" to the wind. It's a windy day. It will travel far...she will be an international traveler." 


I may still grumble about the wind, but since that message, I have looked at the wind differently. I have used that phrase with other BLM's as well now, because there is so much wind here to help the names of so many loved babies travel far and wide. I'm thankful for that new perspective, and the inspiration from Cynthia.


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Simon, at 4.5 months, is:

-teething (it's quite an ordeal...poor little guy)

-enjoying his toes immensely (when he's not in the thralls of pain)

-practicing his sitting up (he loves the Bumbo his friend James lent to him)

-laughing and giggling even when we're not trying to make him do so

-still refusing to roll from tummy to back (he knows how since he did it several times when we was "younger"...he's just being stubborn)

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Somehow I've still managed to do a few projects...all inspired by things posted on Pin.terest. I think I've done 5 total: 
1) refashioning of some flip flops
2) refashioning frames for a cool display setup thingy (terribly unclear)
3) No Bake Vanilla Cake Batter Chocolate Truffles (yumm!)
4) started a painting
5) making a summer scarf


I have to work on things in 15 minute spurts...Simon distracts me. And I'm actually quite impatient. If it takes too long or is too detailed, I implode. It's a rather large drawback to being a creative person...you think I'd have worked through that by now :)


So many good ideas floating around out there...
And I like the feeling of creativity again.

Random: Lyra's spot

If you haven't already, please consider doing a post to be a part of the "Right Where I Am" project. It's a beautiful and encouraging look at where we as a baby loss community are all at in our different journey's. I'm still working my way through many of the posts, and find the honesty and varying grief experiences just amazing. Not the grief itself, but how others have dealt with it, or viewed it, or cursed at it, or triumphed over it, or tucked it away, or flaunted it, or I could go on and on with all the different ways. It's a project I'm incredibly thankful for, and I hope it will continue in future years so we have a chance to see how our baby loss experience shapes us, as individuals and as a community.

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Went back to our old stomping grounds this weekend. Saw a few people we hoped to, and missed seeing several others we wanted to. And didn't get to Lyra's plot as intended. Simon is furious in the car seat, so we tried to limit his time in the car. Frustrating, as I really wanted to get there and see her spot and update it. But we'll try again next time. I miss visiting her.

Random: Quote

"The depth of the feeling continued to surprise and threaten me, but each time it hit again and I bore it...I would discover that it hadn't washed me away." 


This quote is taken from Anne Lamott from her book "Traveling Mercies".  

Random: books

I'm reading Anne Lamott's "Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year". She's real and rough around the edges. I like her honesty, even if she's hell bent on hating certain political parties or admitting she's struggled with all sorts of addictions and difficulties. Her friend challenged her to write down something about her son everyday, and that's how this book came about. Some days are short little snippets of thoughts or an action her son did. Other days it's a compilation of things about him, or her, or her friends.

Part of me wants to do the same...to write about Simon everyday. It goes fast. Or I've also thought about maybe taking a picture of him everyday...compiling a concoction of images from his first year. I'm not sure.  I just don't want to be 50 years old and not able to remember the things I love about these times with him. I can barely remember things from being pregnant some days...so I know it's possible to forget.

Anne has had loved ones die, so I appreciate what she has to say about surviving that and the grief in her life. I have another book of hers I plan to read as well.

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International Babylost Mother's Day is this weekend. Sending love to all you mama's and families and remembering your sweet babies.

Missing you Lyra.

Random: Easter

I've had two friends mention this past week that they know someone who has lost recently, or will inevitably lose their baby. It shook me a bit, tapping into those feelings I've compartmentalized since Simon has been here. Reminders of those moments of raw pain and grief...knowing that two families will suffer and everything in their lives will be touched by this event. One of my friends asked me if I'd do a family painting for the family she knew about.

I'm humbled when I'm asked to do a family painting for someone. I feel it's a small way of showing the world that the child is remembered...that they are a viable part of one's family. I had sold them on etsy, but that slowly ground to a halt during the stress of my pregnancy and grieving. I feel I'm getting back into a rhythm, or even a desire to be creative again. Simon takes a lot of time (which I'm more than happy about), but I want to be able to do these paintings again...it's a very small way to help families remember. If you, or someone you know might be interested, please check out my etsy shop.

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The frilly dresses and excitement for Easter still leap out at me. Having a boy, you don't get as excited as a parent in regards to what he'll wear to Easter family functions or church or whatnot. I don't know if it's a more religious based tradition, so it may not be something a percentage of people do...but in my life experience, each year little girls get dresses for Easter.

So, it's yet another bittersweet experience: Sadness in missing out on life with Lyra, and excitement for Simon's first Easter. We have a good friend coming to visit this weekend, so that will be enjoyable too. 

Wishing you all peace and calm for this weekend.

1.8.11 & Random: Big Changes

I haven't been doing hardly any art. But I did finally finished the cover to my personal sketchbook. I started my 9th one in July, and it took me 7 months to finish doodling on it. And then an added bird doodle for a bonus.

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The major events in the five years of our marriage have generally been unplanned. We essentially fly by the seat of our pants. And we seem to do everything in stress clusters of three:

-Marry, graduate college, move to California

-Move back to Kansas, both start full time jobs, get pregnant

- Lyra's death was our exception...and by the far the most stressful and that in itself could count for a billion events.

We will be adding: have a baby, start new job, and move to new town.

L was offered a fabulous new job. One that would mean more stability, but it also means moving to a more rural part of the state. We can handle rural. But we'll be moving by the end of February. Since I can't travel, that means L is finding a house for us, and moving all of our stuff. Hopefully still add a new baby transition and it's a pretty stressful situation. But I haven't seen L this excited in a really long time. And that makes me happy. So, we're jumping in feet first!

Random: Cyst Update

Bio-physical looked good:
Simon opened his mouth and swallowed, grabbed at his face, and is measuring ahead at 5lbs, 9oz.

The cyst has not grown. 

According to the specialist who works with my doctor, his head size is in the 97th percentile (1.9 on the standard deviation scale...macro.cephaly is usually diagnosed at 2.0). Pair that with the cyst, and that is enough of a concern to warrant an extra sono of his brain again, and an echo of his heart to check for any problems. That appointment is schedule in January. My doctor explicitly said that they have not diagnosed him with macro.cephaly, or anything else for that matter...but they just want to do these extra steps to find out if there is anything to be concerned about. If he has heart issues, they can be ready for it when he's born and it might point us in a direction of what syndrome or scenario we can anticipate in how to best take care of him.

Or it could all be nothing and he'll be just fine. 

We can only take a day at a time.

Random: Surprise Tree

L and I had decided that we weren't going to really decorate for Christmas this year. We put up 4 items, and called it good.

Today however, L called and told me to come join him for a late lunch break. When I showed up to his work, he whisked me away to a local tree farm to pick out a tree for our apartment. He knows how much I love surprises :)

So here is our fabulous tree! Dinah is fairly well mannered with our tree and ornaments, from what I remember of last year. It smells so good and definitely brightens the apartment. I love it...and I love the man below, holding the snoopy ornament :)

12.1.10

A small section of the giant painting. I'm feeling really good about it. I have quite a few bumps and wrinkles from the collage part of it, but I'm not fretting about it. It's a learning process :)

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Bullet point listing time:

- I got my hair trimmed today. Always feels good to just let someone else take care of something like your hair. My stylist is super easy to talk to and it's always a good experience.

- My Dr's appointment for this week went well. Newest info is that I'm not supposed to be doing much of anything...pretty much just resting at all times. He never mentioned the actual terminology "bedrest", but he mostly wants me sitting or lying down. I think since we don't know what caused the abruption before, he wants to eliminate as many scenarios as possible that could bring another about. If I'm just a lump on a log, then we have less to worry about. I'm going to request a butler monkey, as Angie has done.

- We got a few Christmas decorations up. Our apartment is so tiny, there's no room for a tree, but it feels subtly festive...which fits our mood just right.

- This made me laugh, and is somewhat true of our apartment building. 

- Today has been ok. That's a good start for such a difficult month :)

Random: Thanksgiving

Hands were held around the table as the blessing was said. The smell of delicious food wafted up and the nieces and nephews squirmed and smiled as they waited for the words of thanksgiving to be completed. Some of the adults breathed a sigh of relief as they were hungry and ready to eat, while others took a sigh of relief as they finally got to sit down for a moment and take a break. Food was distributed and mouths were full.

There was a brief moment of contentment, which is really all you can hope for when you have 17 people gathered, six of whom are under the age of 10. That moment is documented with a mental picture and later dwelled upon late after the kids are all in bed, or after everyone has dispersed back to their hometowns. Sometimes it's discussed out loud, and other times it tumbles around quietly in the shadows of our brains, reminding us later on what we are grateful for and why we still continue to gather together.

I was not expecting to recognize that moment this year. I missed Lyra every second of this holiday and I was painfully aware that there was a grandchild who wasn't able to add to the laughter and chaos. But I'm glad I did see the glimmer of that moment around the table, and am thankful for all that it represents.

Random

Yesterday was 11 months. My mom came through town and it was a good way to spend the day.

Last evening was also the reading and book signing of David Sedaris. When I bought the tickets, I knew it fell on the 11 month time marker, but thought it was fitting to go anyway. I'd never read anything of his before last December, and a friend sent me one of his books. It made me smile, even if just for a moment, during those first weeks after Lyra died. I've read many of his books since then, and thought it'd be a nice way to finish out another month gone by with some deep belly laughs from his reading, facial expressions, diary snippets, and jokes.

Below is my signed page. I had my water bottle with me, and it was his conversation starter with me. It's nice he takes the time to write something more than just his signature. Plus, I like random, so it works well :)

Random

We watched Alice in Wonderland recently. I'd mostly heard grumbles about it, but sometimes I like the grumbly movies for an odd reason or another. I must say that both L and I liked it quite a lot. I bring it up for the purpose of one quote in the movie that I took very much to heart...Alice is told, "‎You used to be much more..."muchier." You've lost your muchness." Alice of course goes on to find her "muchness"...the courage and strength and 'fill-in-the-blank-with-whatever-character trait-a-great-woman-should-have". But ever since the movie finished, I've been contemplating my "muchness"...or lack thereof. 

I didn't mean to concern anyone by not having been on any of the social networks lately. Thank you to those who sent comments or emails to see how I've been doing. Nothing terrible has happened. I just have felt disconnected. Or a lack of something to say. Or I have something to say, but it's just me pushing the repeat button on everything I always say. 

I feel like everyone just wants us to be happy (which is wonderful! Who wouldn't want to be happy?). But we're not. And though I do go to a small ladies group twice a month now, and go to lunch or coffee with friends, or hold a conversation in some social setting - I'm not ok. It's progress that I can do all those things. I see that. I do have good days. Some times multiples in a row. I'm proud of that. But I'm still really struggling with Lyra's death. I feel weak admitting that. I feel weak admitting I've fallen off the AEDM bandwagon. I feel weak that I am so overwhelmed with the holidays. And part of me worries someone in this world thinks I'm not doing enough. I'm not pulling myself up by my bootstraps or jumping back on the horse. I should be motivating myself and having positive thoughts which will propel me into being okay. And I struggle with the disappointment or disapproval I might get from people in my being honest and saying that this is where I'm at. Still. (And let's make it clear that I'm not upset with people wishing positive things for our lives. I'm thankful for people who care about our well being and only want the best. This last paragraph is not some snarky finger pointing at anyone. It's about my feelings on myself.)

See where the "muchness" quote hit home for me? I used to be "muchier" before last December. 

I had a very honest discussion about my artwork and grief with some people at a local coffee shop this past Sunday. I was invited to share, and of course got nervous about it. Started to try and "organize" my thoughts and what I'd say. A day or two before I realized that was unfair to how this whole process started. After Lyra died I didn't sit down and say, "Ok, let's set up a time table of when to do my art, what I'll do, and if the perspective is spot on." Nope, I just grabbed whatever and did whatever came out...what I was feeling. Instead of speaking my crazy, though I did do a fair share of that too, I created my crazy in some art form or another. So, for this discussion I went in with no notes or anything. Just my art, and my crazy :) I felt good about the morning. I got some really positive comments about my work, and my process. I knew it was such a specific area of grief, and tried to connect to the fact that there are so many other things that people can grieve about. And that a creative medium can be helpful in processing those feelings.

So after that experience, and writing about how I'm feeling in this post, I wonder why I'm not spewing this onto a canvas?  I'm a hypocrite. 

In other news, Simon is measuring almost two weeks ahead. I passed the glucose test. I start weekly appointments now. We'll do a cyst sono check-up in a month. All good things.

I'll finish this too long of a post up by acknowledging that I know there are people with worse scenarios than me. I'm not saying that my grumbles trump anyone else's. I'm just trying to be honest about myself. I hope to keep pondering "muchness" and how I can return to my "muchier" disposition, all the while hoping that my lack of it doesn't affect Simon's "muchness" factor.

Random

Yesterday was another appointment. And the dreaded glucose test, and I only say dreaded because when pregnant with Lyra I couldn't keep it down. I did fine yesterday though. Not much new to report...which again, is good. Sono to check on the cysts is not yet scheduled.

I've been having a hard time, with nothing in particular pin pointed; or if there is, my thoughts are muddled. I'm really not looking forward to the holidays...I've been struggling to know how to honor the day we delivered Lyra and held her for the first time. It's in between U.S. Thanksgiving and Christmas, but close enough that the grief taints both holidays. I'd like to just hibernate and be a grumpy bear missing her baby bear. Our families have been, and continue to be gracious with us in our grief. I'm sure I'll have some hibernating times, but it is also good to embrace the love from our families and not let these possible memories slip by.

I visit Lyra's grave today for her November visit. Time to gather her pumpkin, and check on the glass stars that were left last time. I have confidence now that her Tiger will still be there, untouched &  keeping watch.

Random & 30 Days

To update:
I called to find out some more information about the sonogram...namely if this was the basic, "We have to tell you this to cover our all bases and you don't sue us." OR if it was that they saw something that literally made them concerned that Simon has d.s.
I got a call back from the nurse who was holding my sonogram report in front of her. She read off everything that I'd be able to understand...which was that there were no other abnormalities seen. Everything measured right on track with development, and the cysts were the only reasons they brought up d.s. This doesn't necessarily put us in the clear, but I do feel slightly better about the information I could get over the phone. I still have to wait for my appointment later this month, and will discuss what the doctor recommends, and what we are comfortable with. For now, we'll just pray and hope!  
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Ok, is it lame that I'm jumping on this challenge now? I didn't think I was in enough of a mood to do it...or whatever. But I loved reading about everyone. And then I felt silly that I wasn't doing it, especially since October is Pregnancy Loss and Awareness month. So here it is, a few days  behind. See Angie's post for how it all came about.


Day 1 - a song that reminds you of your child, or one that you can't listen to anymore and why.
I took to Eisley's "Taking Control" as an anthem for getting through those first months. Sometimes I can't listen to it now, because it takes me right back to those intensely raw moments. 

Day 2 - a movie that helped you get through the hard times, or one that jumps out at you after your loss.
I wanted to watch anything that would be distracting. Our good friends are sweet enough to let us use their netflix account, so some of those early movies were: Robin Hood:Prince of Thieves, The Mighty Ducks, Center Stage, Bridget Jones's Diary, Brokeback Mountain, The Producers... None of those are my favorite, or really speak to me. Just pure entertainment.

Day 3 - a television program that helped you either get through hard times or that moves you.
I watched all available seasons of Weeds, Bones and Friday Night Lights. 
Weeds was nice and distracting.
Bones is a favorite of ours - I'd get mad at L if he watched an episode without me :)
Friday Night Lights is nostalgic since we both grew up in rural towns. Sure, we knock country bumpkins, but you have to love when the weather cools, and everyone gathers at the football field to literally watch the game, or to just socialize. There's something about small town life that we miss, and would want to maybe someday give our family a taste of.


Day 4 - your favorite book. has it changed since your loss?
Pre-Lyra: my favorite book was "Persuasion" by Jane Austen. Go ahead, roll your eyes. I know Austen is seen as a cop out. But I love the classics, and I love reading. I sometimes struggled to know what modern books to read, so the classics were always there for me.
Post-Lyra: I actually got a book from a friend right after Lyra died - "Dress Your Family in Corduroy & Denim" by David Sedaris. I can't find the note right now, but she mentioned something about how even during the hard times we need deep belly laughs...even for a few moments. I loved it. I promptly checked out any others I could find from the library.
Also, have to give a shout out to Elizabeth McCracken's "An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination". I bought two copies...one to share with others, and one for myself.

Day 5 - your favorite quote.
Um. I don't know that I had one? Probably something by Wendell Berry or J.Austen or some artist somewhere. My friend has a quote book, where she writes her favorite quotes; I think my brain is powerful enough to remember quotes, and they all get lost and mixed up.

Day 6 - twenty things that calm you.
1. Blankets - snuggling, nesting, wrapping up.
2. Naps
3. Getting mail from friends
4. Watching the stars
5. Being surrounded by books
6. Painting
7. Watching a movie
8. Drinking chai or other teas
9. Sitting on or near heat sources (obviously only in winter)
10. Being on the beach
11. Playing with kitties
12. Eating outside on a blanket
13. Watching wheat blow in the wind
14. Rain or snow and no need to be anywhere
15. Candles
16. Being out on a farm
17. Coffee shops
18. A back rub
19. A good camp fire
20. Watching storms roll in 


You can look forward to answers to these in the coming days:
Day 7 - a photo that makes you happy.
Day 8 - a photo that makes you angry/sad.
Day 9 - a photo you took since your loss.
Day 10 - a photo taken over 10 years ago of you and how it makes you feel seeing it now.
Day 11 - a photo of you recently and how it makes you feel seeing it now.
Day 12 - something you are OCD about.
Day 13 - a fictional book that is meaningful to you since your loss.
Day 14 - a non-fictional book that is meaningful to you since your loss.
Day 15 - what you like about your house.
Day 16 - a song that makes you cry (or nearly).
Day 17 - an art piece (drawing, sculpture, painting, etc) that moves you.
Day 18 - my wedding/future wedding/past wedding.
Day 19 - a talent of yours.
Day 20 - a hobby of yours and how it changed since your loss.
Day 21 - a recipe.
Day 22 - a website that has been meaningful since your loss.
Day 23 - a youtube video that makes you laugh.
Day 24 - where you live
Day 25 - your day, in great detail
Day 26 - your week, in great detail
Day 27 - your worst habit since your child's death.
Day 28 - what's in your handbag/purse
Day 29 - hopes, dreams, and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 - a dream for the future 

Random

Last Friday just kicked me in the teeth. From emotional low (normal dead baby bad day), to emotional low (failed social interaction), to a further emotional low (ambiguously worrisome current baby news).

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who emailed or left words of love and support. We still feel a bit low here, but it was a big encouragement to read your comments. In fact I keep rereading them to keep the bad vibes at bay.

Tomorrow I hope to call the doctor's office and get some questions answered. I just scribbled down what the doctor said when he called, and didn't have any questions formulated by the time he was done explaining. Along similar not-so-quick-thinking lines, I'm one of those people who, when insulted, will come up with the perfect comeback 3 hours later. It's a real helpful trait.

I have confidence the cysts will go away - my concern is not with them. They in themselves are not harmful. I know we are probably overreacting in feeling so concerned about this eensy chance in their association with d.s. We just feel burned by the percentages in having an unknown complete placental abruption and our daughter being stillborn. Although we have a 99% chance that these cysts indicate nothing in regards to our baby's chromosomal development, we know all too well that being good, or having the right faith, or having positive thoughts doesn't give us immunity. I'd have liked to think that I could play my dead baby card and get a free pass, but I guess that's not how this game is played.

Your thoughts, prayers, vibes, etc. are greatly appreciated. And I do promise some art this week...enough of these rambling words :)

Random

It's one of those days. I just feel sad. And another attempt at reintegrating into society didn't help.

"In love longing

I listen to the monk's bell.

I will never forget you

even for an interval

short as those between the bell notes."

~Izumi Shikibu

"The Burning Heart: Women Poets of Japan"

Random

I didn't think I'd be so sad. Everything feels really raw again, like right after we lost her. Because we're having a boy. Because this pregnancy is a new cycle of life, and it's not with Lyra.

It's with Simon. Our son.

He's weighing in at 13oz and a nice good heartbeat at 154bpm. He was in high action, and switched sides several times during the sono, making the tech really work at getting the measurements. He made it obvious for us that he was a boy, which was appreciated, as I didn't want to have to wait. We'll get the high risk specialist's analysis, as well as my normal doctor's analysis of the pics and measurements sometime next week...or rather we'll hope for no phone call as they'll only call if it looks as if there is something to be concerned about.

After my sono at the high risk specialist, I had an appointment with my normal doctor (so I spent like 4 hours in a waiting room yesterday). He was out on delivery, and since it was a basic check up and I wasn't freaking out, I saw a nurse practitioner I've never seen before. She was friendly and nice, and made the mistake of asking about my child at home. Because of course my charts show I've delivered a baby. I told her about the stillbirth, and she covered everything nicely and I didn't hate her. Just wish the damn charts would highlight the fact I lost my first child so I wouldn't have to keep explaining it to new medical people.

Despite feeling sad, I am glad for this new cycle of life...for our boy. I look forward to the possibility of finger painting, and toy cars, and catching turtles and frogs with him. I just wish his big sister were to be around for her share of this life too. I don't want her to be forgotten now.

Random

I don't know how to pretend it didn't happen. If a complete stranger asks if I've been sick with this pregnancy, I don't know how to just say "Yes.". I say, "I was pretty sick with my first, and this time around has been worse."