If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you have heard the many tales of "Rusty Vs Lily"
After months and months of going to the NRH Humane Society to look at dogs, we got Rusty when Lily was 7 months old and since then they've had a very love, hate, love relationship.
When it comes down to it, Lily loves the dog to pieces, and loves pestering him just as much. The past few weeks I've been worried that Rusty is getting sick of it and will eventually grow bored...and out of love with his little lady.
Today, Rusty proved me wrong. He proved to be a part of this family that I will one day be heart broken to ever be without. Today Rusty saved Lily's life, and I got to watch my brave husband save his.
When we were getting our "to do" list together today I saw this dumb kid walking his pit bull mix on a huge chain through our dining room window. I pointed it out to Eamon because we're always talking about how unfortunate pit bulls lives are. Their owners think they're fighting dogs and that they'll look "bad ass" with a thick chain and pad lock around their neck.
[This is making me shake just THINKING about it...it seems like a distant dream now.]
All of our windows are open because the weather is just amazing right now and Lily and Rusty are playing at the window in the living room like they do all day, every day. [They're people watchers] I see the dog come to the window and get Eamon's attention. Lily and Rusty both lean up against the window to get a look at the dog. Rusty's not allowed to growl or bark in the house as to not instigate anything, and he RARELY does. Two sniffs later and we see/hear barking and growling. I get off of the couch to run to Lily and before I even get up the pit bull TEARS THROUGH OUR WINDOW SCREEN and lunges at our kids. Rusty places himself in front of Lily [there are the tears...] and takes the bite of the pit bull. I'm so scared but know I HAVE TO GRAB MY BABY. I scoop her up, trying my hardest to stay cool while Eamon is kicking the dog. I run into the bedroom and close the door, afraid the pit is going to come into the house and attack us too. I then hear yelping and hear Eamon go out the door. I run out a few seconds later realizing I need to call the cops before someone-my dog, or worse my husband- gets killed. The dog had grabbed Rusty by the neck and drug him out to the sidewalk in front of our apartment. I then see Eamon with the dog's chain in his hand beating the pit bull over and over to get him to let go of our dog. He didn't budge. He was thrashing Rusty like a rag doll.
I had a flashback to when I was a little girl and something really scary was happening. My mom was trying her hardest not to be in hysterics, and told us to go inside to avoid seeing something bad happen, that it'd be better to see the aftermath than to watch the act occur. Still clutching Lily I walked back inside-still on the phone with the police and waited to hear Rusty dying and the dog attack Eamon. In prayer mode I went. I then saw Rusty start running away as the pit's owner held him. Eamon ran after Rusty to make sure he wasn't running away to find a place to die [...at least that is what was going through my mind] and I went into mommy mode.
With his dog secured, I let the owner have it. His dog put three out of four of the members in a near death experience and if the dog came in our house...it could have ended very differently. I have never been so mad at a human being in my life-let alone expressed said anger to their face.
A few minutes later...our heroes came around the corner, Eamon with an adrenaline rush and Rusty with a limp. It was like the scene in Armageddon when all of the astronauts make it home safely and are walking out to meet their women that they protected. I was prepared to see the blood on Rusty and was trying not to freak out...he survived with a few puncture wounds on his neck, two cuts on his left front leg and a limp from being thrown in the air. This was not Rusty's first rodeo.
God has protected us in so many ways today, I'm not sure I can count them all. He gave us rusty 9 months ago to be Lily's best friend. He was there today to push Lily out of the way from a pit bull's mouth. He gave me a husband wise and brave enough to know what to do and actually do it, and He protected our dog in a miraculous way.
When the Humane Officer came to get our story and take a look at Rusty she said the pit probably thought of Rusty as a chew toy and that's why he didn't apply "deadly" force. Regardless, our scrappy little dog put his life out there for our baby. He held on and fought for his life for his family...I don't know that I can ever repay him. Who knows, maybe he thinks he's repaying US for rescuing him...
All day he's been right by our side-mine and Lily's that is. I told a friend of mine that I felt like he and Eamon said "These are MY girls, want me to prove it again?" and I know they would.
So even though she tries to poison him with grapes and raisins, and even though he thinks all of her bunny toys are his, and EVEN THOUGH Lily gets pure joy out of telling him "BAD DOG!"...Rusty will always be her knight in furry armor.
I'm supposed to be packing right now, but I need to put this into words.
This week was a lot harder than I anticipated.
When I posted this blog on Monday, I had no idea that it was National Pregnancy Loss week. When I saw the first "status update" announcing so, I wanted to stay off of facebook this week. I've been trying to deal with this all on my own terms, and to be frank, I'm pretty upset.
I knew that I lost the June baby the night it happened. I suppressed that thought quickly bc I didn't want anyone's pity, I didn't want anyone to compare me to anyone else, and I had no idea what to do. My trauma wasn't as severe as many of my good friends, and I felt like I'd be taking something away from them if I said I understood...but man do I.
When I filled out my paperwork for this pregnancy at the midwifery center, I didn't know how to answer the "Number of pregnancies" question. I felt like I was lying, like I didn't want to admit that my body had just failed. But I never got to see a baby on the screen, never got that little sign, but I knew.
A friend that I been sharing the fact I "knew" I was pregnancy asked me a few weeks later if I thought I had miscarried. I didn't want to say yes, that would be too hard. I just said "We'll never really know :\"
Hearing everyone's stories this week and seeing those who have had more obvious...maybe that's not the right word...but more obvious miscarriages and how they've gotten the chance to mourn, grieve, and re-cooperate has made me mad. BUT WHY SHOULD IT?! I was quickly blessed with this pregnancy, my loss only took a few days longer than my normal period, not weeks or months like other women, but my hurt was still there, I just refused it- to the point that it's hurt this pregnancy for me.
I have three close friends who have miscarried in the year since Lily's birth and they always talk about how they miss their babies. I want to say, SO DO I! I never even got to feel them! I even lashed out on a friend who said she had mixed feelings about her pregnancy because she knew that she wouldn't have THIS baby right now, if she didn't lose her first. I wanted to cry on her shoulder and say "Me too..." But no. I said "Stop dwelling on it" Like a mean, hurtful, bitter friend. I didn't get to say "I don't get to, so you shouldn't" but that's what I felt.
So tonight, before I leave to Rockport I'm going to start this process of healing for this baby, and be so, so, so grateful for the baby I have, the BABIES I have. First, her name is June. It's the first name I thought of when I got my suspicions. June wasn't even more than a few cells, but in the very short time I had her, I loved her so much. I was so excited for us, and I was so excited for Lily, I was excited to birth her.
I can't even tell you how much better just putting that into words feels...
If any of you have gone through something similar, I would love to hear your encouragement. I'll be back after the weekend after some time with my family in Rockport, but would still love to hear from you.
Sometimes I joke about all the things Lily has learned since I got pregnant. She is a little sponge these days so every day I spend growing her sibling, she is presented with new knowledge. We watch birthing videos to prepare her for the sights and sounds that might go on when Baby comes, I let her play with my belly and we talk about how to take care of newborns. But there are some things Lily has come to learn...all on her own.
How to throw up over the toilet
This was first in the series of "Lily's pregnancy" that made me fall over laughing. I was brushing my teeth one morning and there she was, standing over the toilet, spitting, sayin "BLAAAAAGHHH!!!! BLAAAAAGGGHHH!!!" and would get up on her tippy toes every time she lurched. She even got the toilet paper and wiped off her mouth.
Rubbing my back when I puke
This one is really sweat, actually. Eamon rubs my back if he's here and tells Lily "Mama's not feeling good, can you come be sweet?" And Lily toddles over and starts to rub my back saying "Sweet"
She knows how to say "taco"
Like I've said before, beans and cheese are the only thing that appease this baby, so Lily and I find ourselves frequenting the Bueno's and Bell's of the DFW. It's become such an often occurance, that she picked up on "taco" The most hillarious part of this happened this weekend when we went to the zoo. We were sitting in the car and Lily was in the back seat eating her bean and cheese soft taco, talking to herself. In her broken baby English she said, "Haf to Baba! Haf to taco, Baba" ...She was telling her "baby" she "has to eat the taco" ....Not that she hears me justifying eating them or anything... I about died laughing!
She cheered when we heard Baby's heartbeat
This is by far the sweet treasure that has come out of this learning experience with Lily. At our 12 week appointment, I was sure she thought that Angela was torturing me, and the Doppler was emitting sounds from a deep underworld for sure, just not my womb. She cried, screamed, kicked, outright threw a fit over my exam....and dangit, she wasn't going to do it again. I've been prepping her for our 16 week appointment [which was on Monday] to try and avoid another meltdown. When it came time for Angela to feel my tummy and hear the baby...Lily was apprehensive, but cooperative. As we all sat there holding our breaths, waiting to hear that beautiful whooshing noise [only hearing lots of kicks :] Lily started to show panic. I told her it was ok, we were waiting to hear baby. As soon as the heartbeat picked up, Lily, without cue, starts clapping saying "YAAAAAAAAAY!!!!" We then lost the sound of the heartbeat because I was laughing so hard. It was quite a joyous start to our week indeed.
Well, this weekend we are headed to Rockport and Kerrville to see some friends and family and take some photos, but I'll be back soon :] Hope you all have an AMAZING weekend and that this fall weather actually starts acting like it!
"And what if all this puking causes me to miscarry?"
"And what if my hips don't hold up like they did last time and I can't push my baby out?"
"What if I'm disappointed that it's a boy/girl?"
"What if Eamon is disappointed that it's a girl?!"
"I'm eating too much Bueno, he/she isn't getting enough nutrition." [beans are the ONLY thing that calms my stomach.]
"Is this just cramping or is this baby coming early?"
"What if Lily kicked me too hard this morning"
And the worst
"I'm not going to get to keep this baby."
This last thought has been in my head since the day I took a pregnancy test. I don't know if it's a lie from Satan, or the Lord trying to prepare my heart. Trust me, I've tried to figure it out.
The month before we got pregnant, June, Eamon and I had sex when I was ovulating. Shortly after I started getting fatigued, nauseated, I felt it. We were pregnant, I was sure of it. I started making plans to tell my family and friends at Lily's birthday party, planning to make her baby wear a onsie with the estimated due date on it. I was so excited-and late. I drove myself crazy with tests. I took eleven to be exact. Yup, ELEVEN tests. They all came back negative. But I "knew" I was pregnant. Well...needless to say, a heavy, hard, painful period came eventually. I went to the bathroom and noticed, and Eamon heard me whimpering from the living room. I could tell he was disappointed too. He tried his best to reassure me that it wasn't a miscarriage, that I was just late, [I never did get a positive test after all] but it didn't stop me from sobbing myself to sleep that night. That was the last time I thought it was miscarriage. After that I put it out of my mind and focused on the future, waiting till we moved to Austin and till Lily was a little bit older. The next month, obviously, we got pregnant when there was absolutely no way we should have. I was supposed to have started my period on our conception date. THis is the SECOND pregnancy that this has happened.
So, once a week for the eleven weeks that I've known about this beautiful baby inside me, I've hear this awful thing in my ear
"This baby isn't yours to keep"
I heard it when I was still nursing Lily, then thinking that it meant that Lily was taking from the baby. Nope, that wasn't it. I heard it again this week when I caught a stomach bug and couldn't stand up without puking. I spent most of the afternoon on my hands and knees crying and puking, crying and praying, crying and arguing with Eamon, crying and wanting my midwife there. I thought all the puking would cause contractions and throw baby into early labor. Nope, we survived. All night the little bean kicked and swam around, reassuring me that we were gonna be ok. I heard it again yesterday when after throwing up I had a cramp/contraction right at the top of my uterus that wouldn't let go. I laid on our living room floor with a heating pad praying the pain would go away, and that my fearful mind would cease it's doubts. Eventually it all stopped.
This morning, something came back into the front of my mind that I'm not sure what to think about. I think it's shameful when women try to make more of a situation to make themselves feel included, or to create more drama for themselves so know that is NOT what I'm doing. But I started thinking:
"What if my body is trying to grieve for the other baby?"
Again, I never got a positive pregnancy test. I never had the time to show, I don't even know if I had time for the little bean to attach. And I in no way WANT to have had a miscarriage, and I in no way can relate to the pain many of my friends have had over their lost children. But still...it makes since to me. What if the possible denial has driven me to doubt my body, my baby, MY GOD during this pregnancy?
After struggling with this I decided to start this week off new.
Last week I was very lucky to surround myself with women who love birth, who love me, and love Jesus. I went to a "Birth Stories" night at the birth center where the midwives got to tell their most amazing birth stories, and I'm not gonna lie, it felt good to hear midwife say that my birth was the best she's seen... I've had a few heart to heart's with women who have shown me support when I didn't know I needed or wanted it, and I've got everything planned out to have a peaceful, safe birth for this child THAT WILL MAKE IT. You'd think with all of my doubts I would start planning for a hospital birth, but it's done nothing but reassure me that I want to be in my own home surrounded by those who love me, who will sing praises with Jesus with me, who will kneel on their knees for hours to watch me and my baby labor, who will lay down their everything to be with us in those few hours.
I wanted to share with you who I plan to have my birth this week, even though I know I've got a long way to go.
Midwife #1 Angela Friesen: She was at Lily's birth and after hanging out with her this week, I'm even more excited to have her here for the next one, to pray patiently over me, and to remind me, You're having a baby...it hurts ;]
Midwife #2 Sarah Jones: The first new addition to our team this time around, I'm really excited for Sarah to be there to assist Angela in whatever she may need.
Doula Leila Farber: We will actually be having dinner with her when we come back from Rockport to make sure she's the perfect fit for us, but I've got a feeling she's gonna be exactly what we...I...need. She'll be there for me when Eamon can't and be there for Eamon when he is exhausted.
Birth Photographer Michelle Monk: I really wanted her at my last birth, but she hadn't done many births at the time and we had already hired Lynsey. She's become and amazing friend and I can't wait for her to share this experience with us as well as capture it.
The Husband Eamon: Without him, I don't think I would be able to do it. How men leave their wives in the hands of ahem..."professionals" at the hospital [or at home!!!] to go watch a game or play on their phone while their wife is going through the most life changing experience they will ever have baffles me. Eamon was my rock.
These are the people I will continue to look to for positivity and encouragement throughout the rest of this pregnancy [as well as a few other close friends] I'm extremely happy to have them and am actually really excited to see this growing into such a beautiful experience.
So here's to a new week! I hope that God shows you how to come out of whatever fear you may be trapped in and that you learn to TRUST even if it's the hardest, most unrealistic thing to do in your life...or so it may seem.
When Lily was in the womb, I would hum a tune that I planned to use in labor. Anytime I got Braxton Hicks contractions, anytime I was sick, and especially during the four days of false labor I hummed the tune and rubbed my watermelon of a belly. I wanted to know if she was a boy or girl sometimes so I could personalize a song for her. Every now and then I would play The Smashing Pumpkins' Lily [My One and Only] in hopes that she was in fact a girl and sway to the tune as I sang.
A few weeks before I left on maternity leave a woman who was setting up her next appointment with me had an unbelievable urge to tell me something about my growing little baby. She said "She is going to be a very musical baby" I kind of shrugged her off because I was almost certain she was a he. Eamon and I are both very musical people, but this woman knew nothing about me or him. She went on to tell me the unexplainable joy that she was going to bring us and proceeded to pray over my belly as she laid hands on me- despite the man behind her scowling and whispering profanities. I didn't really know what to think of it all...but it definitely stuck with me.
When Lily was just a few weeks old, she started to kick to the beat of almost any song. It was adorable. The first time I felt her kick inside me was when I was watching House when I was 12 weeks pregnant. She fluttered away as the theme song played. It was awesome. When she was just a few weeks old we started ordering all of the House episodes starting in season one from Netflix. Every time that Massive Attack song came on, a kicking she would go. Now Lily dances to everything from Lady Gaga [gag me] to Metallica, to George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelic. She shows no bias when it comes to what she will and won't get down to.
But this also means that her favorite time of day is when we go to sleep. Most nights she won't go to sleep unless I spend a measly five minutes rocking and singing to her. "You're just too good to be true" "You are my sunshine" and "Goodnight Sweatheart" are her favorites but I've always wished that I had a song especially for her. Something very simple, something she could remember, something that on the stormiest of stormy nights would calm her and put her to sleep.
Last night the perfect tune and the perfect words came to me, and she was out like a light in no time.
I love you, my girl
The day's through, my girl
It's time to
Say goodnight, girl
I love you, my girl
My honey, my girl
Sleep darlin', my girl
I love you, my girl
'Night darlin', my girl
Have a wonderful day friends!
Last night Baby #2 kicked so hard that I could feel it on the outside, it was great.
I actually think I have something non crap related to post about, but before I get to it, I REALLY NEED YOUR HELP!!!!
I only have two people [one barely, the other by like 30 votes! She's a/was a radio dj so I kinda don't think it's fair.] beating me in the Mommypotamus Guest Blog Extravaganza, AND TODAY'S THE LAST DAY TO VOTE!!!
If all of you followers could vote and get like one person to vote, maaaaybe advertise me on YOUR blog, I'D REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!
I know it's been a while but this story has to be shared without a huge "this is what we've been up to" post.
Yesterday was our first visit to our new chiropractor, Chandra Crisp. I was very excited because I've been in a lot of pain that has led to a lot of worry that has led to self doubt. I've got some weird hips that need a lot of attention [that's what SHE said] and I've gone three months without any pain relief.
So yesterday morning I head to the fabric store to get all my materials for Mae Flower's custom orders and to stock up for Christmas materials. I allowed JUST enough time to grab a burrito, get my supplies and be at my appointment in time to get my paperwork filled out. [THEIR receptionist isn't as good as I was, so she didn't send it to me before hand ;] Before I left I saw about 5 diapers sitting in a chair by the door and thought "NAH, there are plenty in the car, I won't be gone that long, I should be fine." Besides, Lily just pooped and wasn't due for another number two till the afternoon. So I left, strapped her in the backseat and went along my merry little way.
We get to the office and start filling out paperwork. Everyone's looking at Lily funny and it's starting to freak me out. "Oh, it's just because she's SOOO smart, people aren't used to seeing a baby as active and intelligible as her." Idiot.
Paperwork is filled out and we are now waiting in a room for our doctor to show up.
I hear a knock, and in comes her smiling face.
"Well hi there! Aren't you a cutie?!" She says to Lily.
She introduces herself and we exchange our children's ages. As she sits down she says.."Hmm, someone's stinky! Do you have a stinky diaper?"
IF YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW...I have no sense of smell...well, I have a very screwed up sense of smell. Lemons, cigarette smoke and ketchup are all on my radar...and that's about it. Sometimes if Lily has a REALLY disgusting diaper I can smell it, but only when I open it. Also, because of my whacked out nose...I like the smell of baby poop...
I say something like "oh probably" We had pizza the night before so it didn't surprise me if she had gas. We talk just for a minute and then she says "Umm, so do you want to go change her?" Wow...it must be really bad. I stick my finger in the side of her diaper, as she tells me not to, but it comes out clean. "See," I thought to myself "I know when my kid poops, lady." I look down the BACK of her diaper...there is poop all the way up her back.
I check my bag...no diapers.
She takes me to the changing room. I start to panic.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Everywhere shit. What am I going to do?" I start to think. I thought- "Maybe this is one of those fancy doctors offices where they keep diapers in the changing room *just in case* they get an irresponsible mother of a patient like myself."
She shows me around and leaves me to it. No diapers. Anywhere. There were some wipes, 409, and a curtain. I panic again.
"Uh, I'll be right back, I'm just going to run to the car to get a diaper, silly me forgot to put one in my purse!!!" Half laughing, half dying inside, I run/walk to my car.
Eamon just cleaned out the car.
ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!
I turned that dang car UPSIDE DOWN looking for a stupid diaper, a cloth diaper, a napkin, a burrito wrapper, SOMETHING to put on my kid's rear and could not find ONE THING.
I walk back into the office completely red in the face and she hands me a diaper and some wipes "I figured you couldn't find one" She said with a smile.
So off to the ill-equipped room I went again. As I'm walking in I look at the diaper. Lily is over 25 pounds. This diaper is like a size 2. Uhhhh...
I finally start to disrobe her [she was wearing a romper so I had to get her completely naked to change her] and notice there is poop EVERYWHERE. On her legs, on her clothes, on her belly. I'm doomed. DOOMED.
About a dozen wipes later, she is cleaned. And naked. Then I look at her clothes. I didn't pack an extra outfit. There wasn't anything in the car. To scrubbing I go. I take these stupid wipes and start scrubbing all the poop off her clothes. I finally start to see some progress but then realize something...WHERE'S LILY?!?!
My adorable, naked, crap smelling daughter was halfway to the waiting room, in the middle of their weight room-AHEM, N-E-K-K-I-D!!!!
I frantically run after her, drag her back in the room, squeeze her into the infant diaper, and maneuver her clothes back on her without smearing anymore poop anywhere.
By this time I just want to shrivel up in a corner with my broken hips and stinky baby and just be done with it all. But she was so sweet and we carried on our appointment anyway. I felt great! Physically, anyway. Inside I was STILL a wreck but thought "Ah, just go see Eamon at work. He should be on his lunch break and you can cry on his shoulder and tell him all about it."
We drive all the way back to TCC and get to the cafeteria. I wave Eamon down and he come says hi. Before I can say a word...
He picks up Lily and says "WHOA!!!! She smells like poop, babe!"
...Right there, in the TCC hallway I LOOOOOOOOOST it. And I didn't regain it till about 6 that evening.
Yesterday I learned that a toddler and a pregnant mother can still prove Forrest right: