It comes in waves

Grief...worry...it comes in waves.  Sometimes you're floating along, feeling relaxed...just enjoying being in the water.  And then other times a huge wave crashes into you, sending you reeling.  You can't always see the big waves coming either...you're just floating along and BAM, suddenly you're fighting to stay afloat.

This seems to be my life lately.  Wednesday after our doctor's appointment I was fighting to stay afloat.  The questions floating through my head included, "Why us?" and, "When will we get the easy path?"  I was sad, frustrated, and even a little angry.  It didn't matter so much that the baby was still there, that her (everyone assumes it's a girl...I have no opinion one way or the other, but I'll go with it for now!) heart was beating.  It didn't matter that I haven't had any physical signs of her distress.  All that mattered was that she hasn't been progressing "normally."  (Which to be fair, who among us can claim to be "normal" anyway??)

Then yesterday, I felt so much better.  We had so much positive feedback from sharing our news...prayers and support coming in from all over the country.  It's hard to feel lost at sea when you have that much love and support surrounding you.  Plus, I decided that if the doctor could be "cautiously optimistic," then so could I.  We've had many people tell us they were in a similar situation and now have a healthy child.  Over the past few years, we've tended to end on the unlikely end of statistics, so what's to say we won't do the same now, just with a positive outcome?  And, if this pregnancy does end in miscarriage, I know that we are strong enough to make it through.  (Not that I WANT to be that strong, but I know we are.)

That brings us to today...when I got up on the wrong side of the bed...when I'm feeling unusually cranky...when I got in my car in tears because I didn't feel I could adult today.  I'm not even specifically worried about the baby.  I feel just the same physically as I did yesterday, last week, and at the beginning of the month.  I think it's just the toll of so many emotions, so many waves of worry and stress, that is finally getting to me.

Luckily (for me and everyone around me!) it's Friday.  And thankfully, I have a quiet weekend ahead of me.  I have a stack of new books from school that I can work on reading, while snuggling my puppies, in my cozy sunroom.  I can stay in my pajamas all day if I want, and there really are minimal adult tasks I will need to complete.  If I really don't feel like dealing with people, I can even order my groceries online.  Of course, it's also entirely possible that I will wake up on the RIGHT side of the bed tomorrow and feel okay once again.  Either way, I just have to get through this one day, and then I can take care of me for a couple days.

Good news...not so good news

We've had some news we've been waiting a little while to share...waiting for the right time...to know everything was going as planned.  As you may guess, we found out several weeks ago that, after a year of trying, we are pregnant!  We have been so excited for this new little miracle, and we've had a hard time keeping it to ourselves.  We've been planning cute little announcements to share the news, and have just been waiting for that doctor's appointment to confirm all is well.

As you may also have guessed, we have not had that "all is well" doctor's appointment yet.  Last week, we met with our doctor.  They did an ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy, and were unable to find a heartbeat.  That was a little alarming, but not end-of-the-world alarming, as the baby was measuring a week smaller than what we had estimated.  If the baby was, in fact, that little, we wouldn't expect to see a heartbeat yet.  So we were sent on our merry way, with an appointment for this week, at which hopefully we would get the news we were praying for.

That appointment was today.  The good news is they DID see a heartbeat!  No matter how many times you see a little peanut on the ultrasound, that first heartbeat is pretty darn amazing.  Unfortunately, this heartbeat also came with some concerns.  It was a little slower than it should be.  Also, the baby showed less growth over the last 10 days than one would expect.  There were a couple other concerns as well.  Our doctor is "cautiously optimistic."  He said had we not seen the heartbeat, he would have been confident that this pregnancy would end in miscarriage.  Since we have a heartbeat, there is a possibility that baby could take off growing and everything could be fine.  That puts us in a wait-and-see pattern, which if you know Tim and I at all, you know is not our favorite!  This is definitely not the news we were hoping for, but we are trying to stay hopeful and positive.

We know that many couples wait until the end of the first trimester, when everything should be good to go, to share pregnancy news, which is perfectly fine.  We decided to share this news now, not for pity or poor us, but because we could use the support.  When we're walking around work like a zombie, now you know why.  If we're short tempered, or slow to respond to messages, now you know why.  Through this blog and our journey, we have found that we need to share the good and the bad, and that we need to face the good and the bad head on.  While we aren't asking for pity, we could definitely use any positive thoughts, prayers, juju, or whatever you believe sent our way. 

Be the reason someone smiles today

"Why did your baby get cancer?" was the question one of my students greeted me with as she walked in the door this morning.  Although it may seem odd, this question doesn't really bother me.  (Well...except that this same student asks this same question just about every day as she comes in the door!)  But really, it's the million dollar question.  Why DID my baby get cancer?  Why did my mom get cancer?  Why have some of my high school classmates gotten cancer?  Why have other parents' kids gotten cancer?  Why have other kids' parents gotten cancer?  Why IS there cancer?  These are questions we can't, and will never be able to answer. 

Bad things can happen to good people.  Good things can happen to bad people.  Good things can happen to good people, and bad things can happen to bad people.  I guess what I have taken away from all of this...death...cancer...sadness...grief...is to live a good life.  I don't know what will happen to me tomorrow, or even in 5 minutes.  I could die today, or in 50 years.  It's not the amount of time that matters, but what I do with that time that counts.  So instead of living in fear of death, or loss, or sadness, I live for hope, and happiness, and giving.  When my day does come, I want to look back and see that I did make a difference.  Perhaps I didn't change the world, but hopefully I can change the world for at least one person.  That's why we do things like the blood drive and Twelve Days of Giving.  These events don't rock the world, but they rock our world, and they give people a reason to smile.  That's why we donate to CureSearch, Sammy's Superheroes, March of Dimes, and to A Monster's Mission.  We don't donate huge sums, we never need a gigantic check printed up, but we do enough to maybe help one person, or one family. 

It's kind of become my mantra...be the reason someone smiles today.  Everytime someone likes or comments on what we post, it makes me smile.  When someone walks in to the building and says, "I talk to my dogs too!" it makes me smile.  When a student sees me in the hall and randomly gives me a hug, it makes me smile.  None of these things cost money, or take up much time, but they change my day.  To everyone who takes a second and makes me smile, thank you, and I hope to return the favor one day!  And for today, I'll leave this sweet picture here in hopes that it will make someone else smile!

Holy Anxiety

Like so many people, I have had my share of mental health issues throughout my life so far.  I have struggled with depression (as diagnosed anyway) since graduating high school.  I have treated this through therapy, medication, journaling...  In our society, I should be ashamed to admit all of this...I should hide it, pretend I'm perfectly mentally sound...but I'm not.  And I'm all about being real.  And honestly...who among us is 100% mentally sound on a day-to-day basis anyway??

Lately, especially since losing Henry, I've found myself struggling with anxiety as well.  I suppose I've always been a bit on the anxious side.  I like to know what's coming...I like to know what to expect...I like to have down time.  Those things have become even more important now.  For example, I had to be social nearly all day last Saturday at the blood drive, and that was okay.  We've done it before, I knew what to expect, I knew what was coming.  I knew I'd have some time on Sunday to recuperate and reenergize.  Today was the opposite.  I was headed out the door to a technology conference, one I've attended several times in the past.  But today I was anxious...in fact there were even a few tears.  I haven't been to the conference since it's been moved...I didn't know who I knew that was going...I didn't know the set-up...there were a lot of unknowns.  I had to drive myself downtown...find parking...find my way around the convention...all on my own.  I was anxious, nervous, and even a little scared.

In my mind, it all seems so ridiculous.  I'm a grown-a** woman.  I have established myself in my own career.  I have birthed (and buried) two children.  I'm a homeowner.  (Well, the bank is a homeowner, but my name is on the bank's paperwork as the homeowner.)  I have handled so many crazy things in my life that it seems silly to worry about finding my way around a conference.  But then again, maybe that's the problem...I have had to handle so many things (in a pretty short amount of time, relatively speaking) that my ability to deal with unknowns is pretty well tapped out.  And that's why these little things make me so anxious.

The good thing, I suppose, is that I didn't turn around and go back inside my house and hide.  I got my butt out the door, I drove myself downtown, I found my way around the conference (so far, at least!) and I found people I know.  I did it.  Just as I haven't let depression control my life, but instead have learned how to control the depression, I won't let anxiety control my life.  And hopefully, over time, these unknowns, these new situations, will no longer cause such anxiety. 

An amazing day

Our blood drive today surpassed all our expectations. We had over 80 people walk through the door, and had 73 pints of blood donated in Henry's honor. That's 219 lives that could be impacted. We are forever grateful to all that rolled up their sleeves, stopped by, brought goodies, shared info about our drive, and for all of the amazing Red Cross staff that makes things run smoothly. (And to those staff that came in as it was realized that the turnout was so amazing!)

It's an exhausting day, but also so fulfilling. We are proud to carry out Henry's legacy, and we were thrilled to celebrate his birthday with so many people. It's days like today that remind us why we do what we do. Thank you to everyone for your support of whathas  become such an important event for us! #amonstersmission #allheknewwaslove

Crazy!

It has been one crazy week. Of course, we celebrated Henry's birthday yesterday. We got some flowers and balloons, read him a couple stories. We dropped off toys at Children's Hospital that had been collected around Christmas. We have had articles in the Papillion Times and the Omaha World Herald (http://m.livewellnebraska.com/health/papillion-couple-organizes-blood-drive-to-honor--month-old/article_24d4e870-00f2-11e6-8767-5f2ad72b25b9.html?mode=jqm)  for the blood drive, plus our first radio appearance on The Bottom Line with Mike'l Severe (http://studio.omaha.com/TBL-Live-Well-Nebraska--Tim-and-Erin-Seretta--30625934?vcid=30625934&freewheel=91341&sitesection=omahawh) and our first live news appearance on WOWT News Midday. It has been a whirlwind of getting here and there...of sharing the blood drive...of telling Henry's story.

Although I am not necessarily one for the spotlight, these experiences are different. I have gotten to share my child, brag about him a little, say his name. We have been able to share what inspires us, which could inspire someone to donate blood for the first time...or even to appreciate something in their life a little more. We don't do this to celebrate what we have done, but to celebrate that certain monster who inspired us.

In case you haven't seen or heard (which is not possible if you follow this page!) our blood drive is TOMORROW at Faith Presbyterian, 8100 Giles. We have birthday treats, there will be wings for lunch, and we will have plenty of pictures and video of Henry if you need a little fix. We'd love to see you even if you aren't able to donate blood! This is our way of having a little birthday shindig for Henry. Come party with us!!

Henry's Birthday Eve

Today, on Henry's birthday eve, I thought I'd share some of my favorite memories of my favorite little monster.  It's hard to predict how each birthday and angelversary will hit me...today I'm feeling okay...at peace.  Tomorrow...who knows!  So for today, I'll share the Henry that I remember, that I love, and that inspires me to be a better person every day.

Henry LOVED to be with people...held...played with...talked to.  As a newborn, he was NOT a fan of being on his own.  He did sleep in his crib at night starting at about a month and a half, but other than that he wanted to be with someone.  When he was still tiny, he would last in the MamaRoo for maybe a minute or two, and the same for his playpen.  I worried all summer that I was spoiling him, and that he would be a mess when he went to daycare.  I found out later that once he got to daycare he was still spoiled and loved, and held!  My favorite thing to do that summer was snuggle Henry, and I'm glad that I did so, and didn't worry about spoiling him or loving him too much.  Is it even possible to love a baby too much??

Henry was one of the most laid-back babies I have known.  He was content to hang out at home, go out to dinner, go shopping, fly on an airplane.  Nothing seemed to faze him.  Traveling with him (other than the ridiculous amount of stuff you need to travel with an infant) was a breeze.  Oh, and except for his explosive diaper upon take off.  We spent a few days in Florida with family, and he got passed around to many people and never put up a fuss.  He napped, ate, and played just like he did at home.  He LOVED the warm ocean water and the pool.

Henry was also a laid back baby when it came to sleeping through the night.  Starting by probably two or three months, he was sleeping through the night (for the most part.)  And on the nights he woke up, all it took was a little quality snuggle time before he settled back down.

No one got Henry giggling like his daddy.  Whether it was making funny faces, talking in silly voices, blowing raspberries...his daddy knew how to make him not only smile but giggle.  Henry's biggest smiles came from playing with Daddy.

Even when Henry got sick, he kept smiling.  Looking back, he must have felt like absolute CRAP, but he kept on smiling.  He didn't cry when he got shots, he didn't fuss much when he needed breathing treatments, and even getting IVs didn't seem to faze him.  That strength and spirit is what inspires me...to keep on keeping on...to find the good in the world...to smile through the tears.  If my baby boy could smile through leukemia, then I can certainly smile through whatever life throws at me.

Sorry for the long-winded post...once I get to talking about my kids I can go on and on!  Happy birthday eve, sweet Henry.  We will celebrate you tomorrow, at your blood drive Saturday, and every day that we walk this earth.  I love you sweet boy!

Graves

Growing up, I didn't visit the cemetery very often.  In fact, mostly what I did was ride my bike past it...up cemetery hill...what seemed like the biggest and longest hill when you were on your bike at the bottom going up, and what seemed like the fastest and most fun hill when you were at the top headed down.  I didn't experience a lot of death throughout my childhood...my grandparents on my mom's side died when I was too young to remember, and the same with my mom's younger sister.  I do remember my grandpa on my dad's side dying when I was maybe 8.  But other than that, I didn't have to deal with death until I was an adult.  And even then, I rarely visited the cemetery.  Until my uncle died, and we buried him near my grandpa's grave, I probably couldn't have even found my grandpa's grave.  I knew my aunt was buried in our town's cemetery, by a tree maybe, but until we buried my mom there I probably couldn't have found her grave either.

Now I have my two babies at the cemetery too.  I visit them at the cemetery, especially on their birthdays, angelversaries, and other holidays.  Once in awhile, especially in the spring and fall, I'll drive over to read a book to them.  Other times, when we are out and about, we will just swing by to say hi.  For me, though, I don't feel any significant connection to my boys by visiting their graves.  Their gravesites are important to me because it gives them a place on earth that we could leave their names.  But beyond that, I don't feel much connection.  I feel more connection by walking in to the nursery and sitting in the rocking chair.  I feel more connection having dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings or Brewsky's and imagining Henry gazing at all of the TVs.  I feel more connection sitting in the living room, seeing the MamaRoo and thinking of Henry twisting himself around so he could "watch" TV.  I feel more connection walking in to work, and remembering the days when we had "door" duty, which was when Brady was especially active.  For Tim, though, I know that he feels more connected to the boys when we visit their graves...more connected than I do anyway.  And that's okay, too.

That's an important thing about grief...it's different for everyone.  Even for Tim and myself, who lost the same two children, we deal with our grief in different ways.  Visiting the cemetery brings Tim some peace, while sitting in the nursery brings me some peace.  Neither way is right or wrong...both ways are what works for us.  I visit the cemetery with Tim, and he will sit in the nursery with me.  We support each other, and we have never judged each other's grief.  Although we have suffered the "same" loss, we suffer it differently, as we both had our own unique relationships with our boys.  The support we provide for each other, and the understanding that we can grieve differently, is part of what has helped us to strengthen our relationship even through such tragedy.

Quiet days

I feel as though I've been pretty quiet on here lately. Part of the reason is I've been pretty wiped out...Brady's birthday and trying to get back in the groove post-spring break seemed to take a lot out of me!! Another part of the reason is that I haven't had much to say. Sometimes I feel as though I simply repeat myself, and other times I feel as though I'm simply focusing on the negative. And that's where I've been lately.

March and April are rough months for us, and this year it's been tougher with some added stress at work. Thankfully, some of that stress has been lifted. Celebrating our boys' birthdays also helps put work stress into perspective. Work makes up a large percentage of time in my life, but even so it is not THE most important thing in my life. It has taken some effort to remind myself of what is most important...my husband, my boys (fur babies and non-fur babies), my family, my friends, and myself and my health. It's easy to get bogged down in the stresses of life, and that is what I have been doing.

Thank you for letting me vent, letting me share my stresses and worries. It has helped, and I am hoping that (for now, at least) I am putting myself on a more positive path. Despite the Sunday night blues, I'm planning on making this a better week!