who's the leader of the club...

that's made for you and me? Mic-key M-o-u-s-e! 

I've never needed this place more. I've been too many times to count, but never enough times to say that I'd be sick and tired of this place. 

Erik and Mickey have been planning this trip for some time. We're going this weekend, just before Thanksgiving. And though it will likely be crowded, just as any other day at Disneyland, I need to smile, I need to laugh. 
Last week, I wasn't going on any rides. Let me rephrase that. Last week, I wasn't going on any rollercoasters because of this:

When I first took the test, and it came back positive, I was a little shocked, because other than being a few days late, I had no symptoms. From day one, this was a bit strange to me. Yes, every pregnancy is different, and I was hoping that this was as simple as it sounded. When I was first pregnant with Kieran, I knew before I even took the test. My sister had just given birth to Adriana and was actually still in the hospital. My mom and I were sleeping on the pull-out couch at Jennifer and Jessy's little apartment and I woke up thinking, "Oh my God, I am pregnant!" Without giving too much information, I thought my boobs were going to fall off. And though they never fell off, thank goodness, they grew to proportions I never thought imaginable. Since it's a private blog, you know me. And, you know that unless I'm pregnant or breastfeeding, I am a full fledged member of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. Enough information? Then came the endless trips to the bathroom, not to mention the fact that I was so tired, I wanted to hibernate. I remember going to Tahoe with Erik and his parents. We hadn't told anyone yet. We were there with several families and I remember thinking, "Do I really have to get on that boat?!" If it wasn't enough that I was tired, now I had to get on a boat? On a normal day, fun. On a pregnant day, not (in the least bit) fun. 

The night before I took the test for Anna, it was like the night before you wait to go to Disneyland. Excited with anticipation. Sleepless because you just can't wait to get there. I knew that the next morning I took that test, it would be positive. And, for the next 13 weeks, I was nauseous from sun up to sun down, coupled with the millions of trips to the bathroom, followed by the boobs that grew to proportions I never thought imaginable once, let alone twice.

Yet things were not as simple as they sounded. I kept telling my mom and my sister that I was worried. I even told the doctor that there was something different. No trips to the bathroom, no tiredness, and when the "girls" did nothing, I was worried for what was likely to be. 

I had my first ultrasound at 6wks 4 days. There, a yolk sac in plain view. So, I thought, maybe I've been really stupid all this time? Maybe this was all in my head? Though there was nothing to measure, and no heartbeat, it was early yet. We would schedule the next ultrasound for two weeks (which would have been tomorrow afternoon). 

Tuesday, November 17th rolls around. I discover that I am spotting, and I know. I know and Erik is already off to work. The kids are awake. I go on with my morning routine, hoping that this is more simple than what is running through my head, and racing in my heart. 

I go to work, hoping that I'll be wrong. I drive to the doctor, praying.

Please God, don't make me a part of this club! I don't want to be a part of it, so make it be okay!

The only one in the doctor's office, my doctor finishes up with a patient's records, looks up, smiles and waves. I know he's hoping that everything is okay for me and I know he must see this often. 

As kind as he can be, he is very disheartened to find that we don't see anything. There's a sac, but there's very little tissue and there is no heartbeat. 

My heart is beating out of my chest and the tears well up in my eyes. Dr. Anderson hands me a tissue and gently reminds me that it's nothing I did or didn't do.

On the way back to work, I notice that there's a jet plane flying straight up-the kind that "scrape the sky" where you can see their path. I think to myself that this is strange. This is not common, right? It was up, nonetheless. Up. Where I need to be lifted. Up. Where God has lifted my little one. 

God decided this day, that it wasn't my time. Pounds #3 knew all along, that this journey would not be a lengthy one. But, this journey has a reason and was a gift to me, even at 8wks 4 days. 

My heart is aching, but it will heal. So I joined a club that I prayed I would never have to be a part of, and I now understand, fully understand, both the physical and emotional pain that is a miscarriage.

I am lucky. Lucky beyond words. I have two beautiful children, one of each. I have no complaints, they love me unconditionally as I love them.

It is still painful, it was still a child that we would have welcomed with love.

God will lead me and let me know my time, and I have faith that it will come again.

So, instead of riding Peter Pan and going on the Jungle Cruise (which we'll do anyway), the night that Erik and I go out on our own will include Space Mountain, Big Thunder Mountain,  Splash Mountain and any other mountain that exists at Disneyland. This weekend, it's all about the rides.

Mickey called, he wants me to laugh, smile, and enjoy this time with my family of 4. 

I know I will.

first gift

Water for Christmas, who would have thought? I didn't. It's amazing what my $20 donation will do...

Every day, 4500 mothers bury their children due to contaminated water. They are forced to sustain their families with a diabolical liquid that contains both life and death. This lack of clean water is the leading cause of death in underdeveloped nations. And it just doesn't have to be!

So as we gear up to scurry through department stores and browse endless catalogs in search of new jeans, Tonka Trucks, gadgets and dolls....we are pausing. We are pausing. And today, November 13th, we are buying water. Clean, life-saving water.

$10 will provide one person in Africa clean water for 10 years. It will literally change and possibly save someone's life. A mother. A child. A brother. A grandfather.

We are rallying together for a cause. Clean water. One day. $10. Asking everyone to let this be their first gift. Let water, let life be their first gift of the season. 

i'm on the black team, you're on the blue team

I'm not quite sure why Kieran's favorite color has changed from orange (which I think is a very cool favorite color, not mine, but just cool) to black (which can obviously be a favorite color, but I never associate it that way), but it has. Maybe for the same reason that he has really taken an interest to soccer. Don't get me wrong, Kieran loves golf and has been playing since he was 18 months old. He had clubs and his own golf bag from both grandfathers before he could walk! Erik would love it if Kieran continues to play golf, and I think he will, but you should see the joy he gets from running as fast as he can, and kicking the ball with all his might. Like this:

And this:

And this:

My mom has video when Kieran was around 18 months (maybe younger, I'll have to check) dribbling a soccer ball across a park field. Not taught, just natural. We'll encourage him to play whatever sport he likes (Please dear God, don't let it be swimming, we've heard swim meet stories from too many parents; seconds of glory and hours of waiting in the freezing cold...I HATE the cold! At least with soccer, even if it's cold, there's a lot more action!). I can't imagine Kieran choosing not to play sports, it lights too many sparks in him that he exudes sheer happiness whenever he is playing them.
And, when you do play with Kieran, the latest is that he is on the black team, and daddy or anyone else for that matter, is on the blue team. Sometimes everyone is on the black team (when he's tired of the ball being kept away from him :) ). He played and played and played...

and finally, tired himself and took a rest with his sister in the backyard hammock.

Life is good.

trick-or-treat!

Start of the night...almost didn't wear his hood again!

Until Daddy told him that he looked like a "Kieran" and not like a dinosaur...the hood went up immediately.

And they practiced their best cat and dino pose :)

Attempted to take a family (minus me) shot...but the cow had other plans for the evening.

Our very first stop was our neighbors house, who had a haunted house in their garage, it was pretty cool!

Kieran doesn't look especially happy in the picture (awkward shot). Maybe it's as if to say, "Mom, you're lame, you're not wearing a Halloween costume like the rest of us!" I promise I'll do better next year!

How cute are these trick-or-treaters? Too bad I cut off Anna's face :(

By this point, Anna has really caught on. Though she says everything else in complete sentences at 18 months, I couldn't get her to say trick-or-treat. No, instead, she walked right up to people's candy bowls, grabbed, and said, "Want one!" I made the mistake of giving her some chocolate along the way, so every few minutes became, "I want more candy!" oops.

"Ha, Ha, Ha", he says in his spookiest voice.

"How did he get in there?", she wonders.

She figures it out and attempts to copy :)

One street loop later, Kieran says, "I'm tired. I don't want to go trick-or-treating ANY-MORE".

So I tried with all my might to get one last picture of the two of them together in costume, but this was as close as I got.

And then there was one.

They sorted through all their candy, which sadly, has seen my tummy more than I care to admit!

And another holiday checked off the calendar...really glad the next one doesn't include a costume!

18 months

In case you're wondering, every month (for both of my kids since they were born), I take a picture of them at their monthly milestone. The 27th of every month for Kieran, and the 28th for Anna. I am usually pretty good about remembering, but this is the second time I almost forgot with Anna, oops! Not wanting to miss the date, I every so carefully, ever so quietly, opened Anna's pocket door to her room, tip toed in and took a couple of shots, just to make sure that I got my 18 month photo on the 28th. 

Her hair is a bit crazy, but whose isn't when they're asleep? Well, maybe one exception, Anna's favorite baby.  :) Sweet slumbering girl(s). How time moves so quickly...