Saturday, June 29, 2013


This is the ring-bearer pillow I made for a friend who got married today. Her shoes were the same color  and have the same kind of pleated pattern. She looked gorgeous.

Going to weddings reminds me of just how breathtakingly wonderful my own wedding day was. I hope everyone can feel that kind of happiness at least once in their lives. And I'm really glad that this country took a step toward making sure everyone who wants to get married will be able to feel it too. 

Friday, June 21, 2013

you take the good, you take the bad

I know you have been worried about me. I'd be lying if I said the last month has been just fine. Last week we got several pieces of bad news concerning the health and happiness of people we really love, so that was actually the saddest I have been in years.

But I've also been happy: Jon and I went to a local Arboretum on a Thursday evening, as Ale had been suggesting for weeks. Jon and Madelyn have been making awesome sketches for Second City's Second City Shorts competition. Our nephew is such a light in our life; even though it's via camera, I think I love him more every time I hear his laugh. And my brother moved back home to Chicago.


Things have been completely nuts these past two weeks back at work--it took me almost three days just to get through my email. Our project was implemented more quickly than most companies do it, so there was a LOT to fix because we simply did not have the manpower or hours in the day to test it all before unleashing it out onto the public. Today I put in some 15 hours; I'm still spacing out a little and I want to be sure I'm pulling my weight.

But my coworkers really care about me. They had missed me, were hoping I was ok and valued my presence on the team.


I was in a car with my parents for 5+ hours on the drive to St. Louis to get my brother and his stuff, and my dad managed to still be critical of the 3.5-star hotel I got for a super deal.

But we had a smooth move and no one got hurt. And my brother is living in town...for now.


We had put in a bid on a house in March. It was a really great property for a great deal, but it was bank-owned and the bank did not want to pay the outstanding water and gas bills from the previous owners in order to let us have a full inspection. We just didn't feel comfortable buying it blind, so we yanked the deal.

But we started looking again and saw some places yesterday that were really nice. The one with the wow-did-a-tv-show-redo-this backyard was already under contract before we could put in a bid. It was on the market 8 days. Things are going fast, so we need to move quickly. But damn, that place was gorgeous.


I have been lying low about going out, only seeing people in small groups (or not at all because of work).

But my friend is getting married in a week and we're so happy for her. It'll be nice to see everyone. And dance.


Exactly a month ago today I was in the hospital going into labor knowing that we weren't going to get to go home with our baby. I'm starting to thaw out from the initial numbness and have been feeling my feelings way more lately, which is probably best. Today I had my first encounter with a person who lovingly asked about how the baby and I were doing, and I had to break the news over the phone. I felt terrible about how bad he felt. Another coworker posted about feeling her baby move for the first time, which I never got to experience. They had been trying to get pregnant for almost a decade and lost one pregnancy, so this even more extra special.

But I didn't cry.


My pregnancy buddy (who was due 3 weeks after we were) lost her baby, too. I cannot describe the level of OH NO I felt while racing over there to try and comfort her after she found out there was no heartbeat. I hate that we have this in common.

But she actually made ME feel better. Like us, she and her family were just hoping and praying for a healthy baby. Maybe the universe did this to us because our babies weren't healthy, in order to spare them any suffering. It makes me feel better to believe that.


It's not easy.

But it's getting better.

Sunday, June 09, 2013


I'm supposed to go back to work tomorrow. The doctor says I'm physically back to normal and can resume regular activities. I am filled with panic--it feels like the first day at a completely new job, not one where photographs of my loved ones are hung up and fading and there's a stack of notebooks filled with my scrawly handwriting. I worry that I will continue to space out randomly throughout the day, but maybe I'm just spacing out because I've been watching redundant decorating shows (pergolas are the hottest in backyard landscape design right now).
More than anything, I'm terrified I will oversleep because I haven't been awake earlier than 10 a.m. (good day) and have stayed in bed until well past 3 p.m. (not such a great day). At every turn in my life, I have become more convinced that I was created to be nocturnal.

Thank you all for your kind words and thoughts and beautiful wishes. I can't tell you how much it has meant to Jon and I to get a comment or text or card or flowers or hug.

Before all this happened I had a post in mind that seems ridiculous now, but here's the gist:

Back in 2009, when Jon and I got engaged, we didn't have any money because the condo had sucked away every last penny we had saved, so we kept telling people we weren't going to get married till 2013. We didn't have to wait that long, but when we did set a date for 2011, Jon wanted to ask some of his best friends from back home to stand up in our wedding in person. He went back to visit and it took some doing to coordinate a dinner where all of them would be present. He was still figuring out the best way to bring up the topic during the dinner when his friend Mike says to the table, "Guess what, guys; I proposed to S! Will you guys all stand up for me at our wedding?" Jon had to follow up with something along the lines of, "Hey, me too."

So when we got pregnant and waited the requisite 12 weeks to tell anyone, Jon was hemming and hawing over what to say when announcing the news to his friends when he got a text from Mike: "Guess what? S is pregnant!" She is due 5 days before when our baby was scheduled to be born.

Today we found out they're having a boy. I think they might feel a little weird talking to us about it, as just a few weeks ago S and I were comparing aches, pains, maternity clothes and ultrasound stuff, and now suddenly I'm out of the game. But we are very happy for them. Seeing other people's kids makes us more hopeful than sad.

What I'm wrestling with is that my physician basically said it wasn't hormones, it wasn't stress, there's nothing wrong with my body to have caused this, and that the pathologist said our baby had an acute infection. Whether that occurred before (to cause) the water breaking or in the three days after, they cannot determine. She essentially said for us to just contact them again if and when I get pregnant again. I like to have answers, a plan, a strategy for the possible next time. If I needed to stand on my head and do Kool-Aid shots, or withstand a lot more pain in order to prevent this from happening ever again, I would do it, without question. But not doing anything at all? That simply does not compute. Jon and pretty much everyone else regards this as fabulous news, but I can't help but worry.

I guess I just have to take it one day at a time, starting with tomorrow, when I really hope I heed the alarm.

Wednesday, June 05, 2013

wherever you are

So it's been three weeks since this happened.

I haven't been back to work. The doctors gave me six weeks, but I didn't think I needed that long. I wanted to start work again this past Monday when Jon was going back, but I managed to catch some kind of respiratory virus that took away my voice and has left me coughing my lungs inside out. Plus there's post-pregnancy stuff happening physically, like achy pains and food coming out of me for a person who is not here to eat it. So maybe my body was telling me I needed a little more time.

For the last year, I yearned for a week at home with no responsibilities so I could do things like sew together the sweater I knit for our nephew that didn't get done by Christmas (which is fine, because he's still got a couple of years before he will be big enough to wear it) or finish a quilt I have all cut out for a friend whose child is already like 5 months old. I had even been dreaming of a week without new requests at work so I could finish all the half-completed tasks that keep getting shoved onto a back burner. Time to get our wedding album together, even. We already paid the pretty penny for it, but never signed off: I want to swap out some photos our photographer laid out (way too many shots of me). Coming up on our two-year anniversary, I don't know how our photographer will react if--and when--I redesign and ask him to change it.

But I didn't want that time like this. Never like this.

I need to take this empty, useless feeling and burn it into my heart to stop myself from ever wishing things were slow and dull so I could *do* stuff. Clearly I can only accomplish anything when my schedule is completely full. Not having anywhere to go apparently means sleep until 3 p.m. and watch television that I wouldn't be able to pass a quiz on a week later.

The thinking is what's really getting to me. I haven't had time alone for a long, long while, and generally I like it that way--the circus in my brain can sometimes be kind of scary. I'm trying to figure out what and why and how, and there are no answers.The only thing making this somewhat bearable is the love and support from family and friends.

In April, Ri and C's baby, Ari, turned a year old. I, in signature Cadiz fashion, couldn't get to the bookstore fast enough. I spent an entire afternoon in there, looking at every chewable board book that seemed entertaining. It is one of my favorite things to do. I walked out of there with an armful of books for Ari and one little book for our own baby.

At 17 weeks, a baby will be able to hear you, so it is encouraged that you talk, sing and read to them.

There were so many funny, cutesy books to choose from, but this is the one that I chose for our child's first book. Basically, it's about how no matter how old the baby is, where he or she may be, no matter the circumstances, my love will always find him or her. I rubbed my belly in the store and got teary-eyed. I couldn't have said it any better.

Yesterday would have been the 20-week mark of the pregnancy--we'd probably be having an ultrasound to finally find out the sex. But instead, I'm sitting here with this book, hoping that wherever our baby is, our love has indeed found its way there.