Claire's Antics

This is another catch-up blog of things I've been meaning to write down for the last two months and am just now getting around to typing out. It's really just a random list of some of the things Claire has done to make me laugh recently. Hope they make you laugh, too!

1. Claire's New Mommies: I think this happened around the time preschool wrapped up and Claire realized she was going to be spending lots of time with me over summer vacation. One day, she randomly decided it was time to start looking for a new, more exciting Mommy. At first, she thought someone with better fashion sense and a flatter tummy would be best. So, she attempted to bond with a store mannequin. We were out shopping for some summer clothes when she spotted a mannequin and decided to hold it’s hand. Then she told me it was her mommy. I reminded her that I was her mommy, but she insisted that the molded plastic woman in a sundress was mom. When I told her it was time to look at another store, she didn’t come right away. I reminded her that she needed to stay next to Mommy and she held tightly to the mannequin as she declared “This is my mommy” with a huge grin. Thankfully, I was able to convince her (and the other shoppers) that she was, in fact, my child. Since the mannequin didn’t work out, Claire decided she needed a mommy with a more exciting and glamorous role, so she chose Princess Tiana. She has never seen any princess movie, but she has seen the dresses and branded toys and dolls at Target. I guess it just looked like more fun than me. For days, she regularly declared that Princess Tiana was her mommy. After a few conversations, it was clear that she simply enjoyed my reaction to her claiming a new mommy, so I started ignoring her declaration and it stopped. Then we went to the playground where Claire decided a nearby 10 year old should be her new mommy. When the little girl was next to her on the playground, Claire started calling her mommy. The girl was confused and clearly thought Claire was a little nuts. We pulled Claire aside and explained that she shouldn’t call other people mommy because it can make them feel uncomfortable. I guess that was all she needed to hear because she hasn’t done it since. Or maybe she just realized how fun, exciting, and glamorous I really am. ;) Either way, I’m just glad to be her one and only mommy again. It’s a pretty special job!

2. How Claire Sees Daddy: Claire has been paying lots of attention to her daddy, but not the listening-and-obeying kind of attention. She’s been paying attention to how he looks, noticing the particulars of his appearance. And, in true preschooler fashion, she says what she thinks. A few weeks ago, she was lying in bed waking up from her nap. I was in her room chatting with her and Josh came in. She said hello as he leaned over her bed and then she reached up to give him a big hug. It was so sweet that I let out an audible “awww”. Then she looked up at her daddy and, in the sweetest little girl voice, she said, “Dad, you have a big face.” Aside from the giant face, she’s also noticed that daddy is, well, kind of hairy. Josh has recently added a few pairs of shorts to his wardrobe (I’ve known the man over 13 years and this is the first summer I’ve seen him wear shorts!) When Claire first saw his legs, she was quiet for a moment as she looked him over. Then she said, “Daddy, come over here so I can touch your fur.”  She quickly discovered that daddy’s “fur” wasn’t nearly as soft as our puppy’s fur. Bentley 1, Dad 0.

3. The (Other) Power of Prayer: Claire, with all her three-year-old independence, recently decided she did not want to hold my hand when walking through parking lots anymore. Of course, I consider this a non-negotiable, but I have enjoyed some of her attempts at negotiating her hand’s freedom. When she didn’t want to hold hands, she used to say she would hold her own hands and then clasp her hands together. When we didn’t fall for it, she tried a new approach. Claire knows people are not to be interrupted when they are talking to God. So now, when it’s time to hold hands to go into the parking lot or cross the street, she says, “I’m going to pray to God. I can’t hold hands right now because I’m praying”.  Then she folds her hands like she’s going to pray. Josh told her she should definitely be praying if she was going to try walking through a busy parking lot with her eyes closed and not holding his hand. I just told her she would have to save her prayers until we made it safely to the car.

4. Word Play: As adults, we sometimes forget how strange our figures of speech must sound to someone unfamiliar with them. But three year olds are great at reminding us of this. As we were getting ready to leave the house last week, Josh asked if everyone was ready and then said, "Okay, let's roll!" Claire immediately responded, "But Daddy, we can't roll. We don't have any roller skates!" It was a valid point - not a roller skate in sight.

April: Sea World, Gardening, & The Brown House

Quick Fertility Update: I finished the clomid and while I did experience several side effects, they were mild and happened mostly at night. So aside from being a little sleep deprived, our days were happily unaffected for the most part. I'll be using progesterone for the second half of the month and we're hoping this clomid/progesterone combo will work for us!

So now that the fertility update is out of the way, I need to catch up the blog on all the other things we’ve been doing. Basically, we’ve been trying to have as much fun and create as many good memories as possible. It felt like the best way to combat all the emotions we’ve been experiencing over the last year and it’s been really refreshing to just enjoy our family time and keep busy with lots of fun new activities. So here’s what we've been up to:

1. Sea World! One April afternoon, we just randomly decided to pack up, drive to San Antonio and find a hotel to stay the night so we could go to Sea World. It was Claire’s first visit and we were talking up Shamu all the way down I35. When we got to the hotel, the elevator doors closed to reveal a giant photograph (it covered the entire door area) of Shamu in the water, staring at us. Claire was not a fan. She hid behind us, held my hand, and wimpered. We tried to explain that it was just a picture and she’s a “face your fears” kind of girl, so she made a genuine effort to touch it and wave at Shamu. But she really never made peace with that picture and she was visibly anxious every time she came face to face with him. Once we got to Sea World, though, she had a blast. She loved the animals, the shows, and the Sesame Street Bay of Play. She happily posed for a picture with the poor waterpark employee who was forced to walk around in a Shamu costume all day. By the end of the day, she had made peace with Shamu and was excited to see the Shamu show that evening. She loved it at first. The animals were amazing and Claire was dazzled by all their tricks. Since it was a weekday in April, it wasn’t crowded, so we had the whole row of seat to ourselves. Claire started dancing along to the music in the show and we started watching her and taking video of our little ballerina. Then, out of the corners of our eyes, we saw a wall of water heading toward our tiny, unsuspecting dancer. We gasped, lunged toward her, but it was too late. She was soaked and wailing. We were two feet away from her and only felt a few drops, but she had just endured the preschooler’s equivalent of a tsunami. She cried that she wanted to go home and the show was ending anyway, so we carried our soaked and exhausted girl out of the amphitheater. Within minutes, she was her cheerful self again. I asked her what her favorite part of the day had been and her answer surprised me. “When Shamu SPLASHED me!” She even picked out a Shamu cup to take home as a souvenir. Now every time she hears a Sea World commercial on the radio, she asks me to take her there.

2. Gardening: Grammy, Grandad, & Uncle Jonathan came to visit in April and helped Claire set up her very own garden (Claire calls it her farm). She was so excited to help pick out our plants and she’s been taking great care them. She helps Josh water them and she visits her farm every day to check for food. In the last few weeks, some of our tomato and strawberry plants have started producing and Claire has helped pick the ripe fruit and, of course, she always volunteers to eat it. We’ve been eating "farm fresh" tomatoes almost every day!

3. The Brown House: Grandad came back at the end of April to help put together an early birthday gift for Claire – her very own swingset! Claire calls it her "brown house" because it has a little brown wood fort on one side. She was thrilled and played on it all evening after they got it set up. She even asked to sleep in it that night, but there were lots of mosquitos and we weren't really prepared for "camping". I knew she loved her brown house, but I had no idea how much until around midnight that first night. As I came in to check on Claire before I went to bed, she stirred a little and then started crying. I tried to comfort her but the sobbing just got louder. I held her, rocked her, tried to talk to her, but she was so upset that Josh and Grandad soon joined me in her room. I asked her to use her words to tell me what she needed and then tearfully wailed, "I want my brown house!" I stifled a laugh and explained that we would play again in the morning, but Claire continued to cry, insisting that she needed to see it. It almost seemed like she was worried it had all been a wonderful dream and she would wake up in the morning to find her beloved brown house was gone — just a figment of her imagination. She needed to know it was still there, that it was real. I was not planning to indulge her in this request, but, luckily for her, there was a grandparent on hand. Grandad picked her up and told her they could go look through the back door to see it. After a short visit through the glass door (which seemed to feel like a prison wall to our little girl at that moment), she willingly returned to bed and slept through the night. The following week, we had two more late night attempts to visit her treasured new playset, but they were thwarted by mom and dad and she eventually resigned herself to daytime visitation only.

Whew! That's all the "catching up" I can do right now, but I'll try to post again soon to fill you in on some of our summer adventures and update you on the fertility situation.

Miscarriage & (In)fertility Update

This miscarriage was definitely a tough one (as if there's any other kind). After the second ultrasound confirmed the baby had died, it took almost four weeks for the physical miscarriage to occur, and then two more weeks for my hcg levels to get low enough that we could stop tracking them with weekly blood tests. I hate those blood tests. They are mandatory, weekly reminders of the loss and I was so relieved when the doctor said 12 was “close enough” and I didn’t have to go back.

After talking with the doctor, we decided to try a fertility drug, Clomid, when we try again. The doctor said we could start trying as soon as my cycle came back, but we just weren’t ready emotionally and we also had a really busy schedule in June. So we decided to wait an extra month. That month is almost over and I have to admit, I’m still a little nervous about what awaits us in the coming months. The side effects of Clomid aren’t particularly appealing – hot flashes, vomiting, headache, extreme moodiness – it’s like pregnancy and menopause all at once. Fun! Honestly, I think I’m as scared for Josh as I am for myself. I know I’m the one who has to actually experience all these side effects, but I think most men would agree that they get their own version of the “experience” their wives are going through. Maybe I’ll be one of those lucky women who doesn’t notice many side effects (I hear you laughing).

Aside from adding Clomid, we made another important decision about trying again. In the past, we’ve always waited until we knew how the pregnancy was developing before we told anyone (even close family and friends). In my head, I had this vision of Claire getting to surprise everyone when she wore a “Big Sister” shirt to announce that we were expecting a new addition. Well, those big sister shirts sat in the back of her closet for a year and now they’re too small. It’s not like we could really surprise anyone with a pregnancy announcement at this point anyway. And honestly, we need all the prayers we can get for a healthy pregnancy and baby. So, we’re just going to tell everyone if/when we get pregnant again. We are so thankful to have such amazing people in our lives praying for us, loving us, and supporting us through all of this and I hate feeling like I’m lying to everyone for seven weeks while I wait for an ultrasound. We’re not going to do that anymore.

So be warned everyone. By this time next week, I’ll probably be un-caffeinated, trying to come up with lunchtime alternatives to deli meat sandwiches, and seriously craving a medium rare steak or some sushi. Plus, I might be hopped up on Clomid. It’s going to be fun! ;)

And Then There Were Four

I waited a few weeks to write about this, because I needed some time to process what's happening and I really just felt numb at first. I think I've found my voice now, so I'm ready to share what's been going on in our lives over the last few months.

I had a hard time with our last miscarriage and we eventually decided to see a fertility specialist recommended by a friend. She reviewed my previous testing and did a little of her own. Nothing really stood out, but she recommended we use progesterone supplements and try again. We did, and were thrilled to see a positive pregnancy test at the end of February.

This pregnancy felt different. I had weekly blood tests and the numbers all looked great. I felt really pregnant - exhausted, nauseous, food aversions, breast tenderness, waking up to pee every night - all the misery of a healthy first trimester, and I was so thankful for it. While I couldn't quite bring myself to say it aloud, I knew this pregnancy was "the one". We were finally going to get the baby we had been longing for.

We were scheduled for an ultrasound at 7 weeks, and I was so excited to see our baby for the first time. Then, the night before the ultrasound, I had a terrible dream that they couldn't confirm the heartbeat. I was running around hysterically trying to find someone who would re-check, someone who could find it.

I woke up a little shaken, but I really still felt like we were going to have a good day. I thought the dream was just my subconscious worrying. When the ultrasound began, I immediately saw that there was a baby in the gestational sac. That was huge for us because our previous ultrasounds have been blighted ovums (empty sacs with no visible baby). I always felt that if we got far enough for the baby to be visible, everything would be okay. Then, the doctor searched the screen for that all-important flutter of a beating heart. Nothing. She turned on the audio. Silence.

The doctor said the baby implanted really high and that we should look again in a few days, so we scheduled another ultrasound for the following week on April 3rd.

The night before the follow-up ultrasound, I had a beautiful dream. I was in the hospital, holding our newborn son. He was beautiful and he had my husband's thick, dark hair. I felt the love I had for our precious baby and the joy he brought our family. When I awoke, I felt peaceful, reassured, but not really for the ultrasound I was facing. It felt more like a promise for the future than the present. I felt like God was reassuring me and encouraging me so that I could face the coming storm.

The ultrasound showed no change. The baby hadn't grown at all and there was still no heartbeat, so the doctor diagnosed the miscarriage. It was official.

It's been a difficult road over the last few weeks. My hormone levels were still going up at first, which happens sometimes before your body realizes that the pregnancy has stopped growing. I knew that, but seeing the numbers continue to rise made it even more difficult to accept what was happening.

Today's blood test finally showed the numbers are starting to go back down, but we have a long road ahead. My hcg is over 23,000 and it has to get down to zero, so I'm expecting this one to take awhile. My pregnancy symptoms have begun to fade, but I still have to get up to pee most nights and I still can't hug someone tightly without cringing (ladies will know what that means). Those symptoms might stick around until the miscarriage is complete. I thought it was starting on Friday, but the bleeding stopped the next day. The nurse said it may start and stop several times because the hcg levels are so high and have such a long way to go down.

So this is my fourth miscarriage (my third in the last year), and I have run through a slew of emotions as I processed each of them. I feel guilt. Guilt that I haven't been able to give my daughter a sibling, especially when I see how excited she gets every time we see a baby. Guilt that my parenting her has inevitably been affected by the fact that I have spent the last year being in the first trimester of pregnancy or miscarrying. Guilt that I have put my husband through this revolving door of hope and loss.

I feel sadness. Sadness at the loss of each one of my unborn babies. Sadness when I pass the due date of the baby I lost last summer and realize I am no closer to having another child than I was then. Sadness when I clean out Claire's closet and find the "Big Sister" shirt I bought her last year to announce a pregnancy that never made it far enough to give her that shirt.

I feel hurt, and that hurt produces anger sometimes. I feel hurt and angry that this keeps happening to me even though I do all I can to ensure a healthy pregnancy. Hurt and angry when someone says something insensitive, even though I know they're trying to be helpful and just don't know what to say.

I feel alone. Alone in this tragedy that just keeps replaying over and over again. Alone in the physicality of it that even my closest earthly companion, my husband, simply can't experience with me. Alone as I realize that almost none of my closest friends and family can understand the loss of four pregnancies, four babies. Alone in my grief as the world moves on and so quickly forgets these four babies I still mourn.

There are two things I'm doing differently this time. First, I've stopped asking why. I have struggled with that question since my first miscarriage. I thought I understood it when my daughter was born, but the truth is that I have struggled with it again as I endured these miscarriages over the last year. I have now come to realize that question will probably not be answered on this earth. We've run all the tests, we've consulted the specialists, I've been thoroughly poked and prodded. We don't know why and I'm ready to stop replaying that question in my mind a thousand times a day.

The second thing I'm doing differently is that I'm asking God to just carry me through this. In the past, I've asked Him to give me the strength to get through it. But I simply don't have the capacity for that strength right now. I'm exhausted. I'm at the end of myself. I just don't have it in me. So I've been asking Him everyday to just take over. I don't just need a shoulder to lean on, I need to be carried! I've also asked Him to help me keep my eyes on Him, because when I start to think about me, I get angry and frustrated and bitter about what's happening to me. But when my eyes are on Him, there's no room for that.

I recently learned the difference between Spiritual groaning (humbly crying out to God to deliver you) and grumbling (griping at God when you don't get what you pridefully think you're entitled to have). I think I've probably done more grumbling than groaning on this journey, but I'm really working to change that. My hope is that someday in the not-too-distant future, all the groaning and grumbling will be gone as we welcome a new baby to our family. Until then, if you're the praying kind, we need all the prayers we can get.

Claire Thinks Easter Is Crazy

This year, Claire participated in her first big Easter hunt. The week before Easter, we went to a community "eggstravaganza" at a local park and lined up around a field with a bunch of other kids to "hunt" (pick up off the ground in plain sight) a variety of suckers, toys, and plastic eggs filled with Easter stickers.

Claire was really excited to make use of the pink Easter basket she picked out the night before, but when they yelled "go", she had a bit of a problem. You see, we've spent the last 2 1/2 years telling her not to pick things up off the ground and eat them. When we tried to convince her that this was actually the one time of year when it was acceptable to pick up candy she found laying around the park, she looked at us like this...

She recently started telling us that things are "crazy" and I think she mastered that vocabulary word just so she would have something to say the next time she gives us this look.

You'll be relieved to know we did eventually convince her to pick up a few candies, but she was so uncomfortable that she just walked away from the hunting area after a few finds.

The following week, we tried another Easter egg hunt at the local YMCA. Having tasted the treats from her previous hunt, she was much more willing to pick up the plastic eggs this time... as long as they were pink or purple. She adamantly refused all other egg colors. She would pick up the pink egg and leave the green one next to it sitting on the ground. When I asked her, "Claire, do you want to pick up this green one, too?", she would politely refuse. "No thank you!" After a few tries, I gave up and she happily filled her basket with all girl colors.

After spending the next two days worrying about what we were unknowingly teaching our daughter about gender roles (ah, modern parenting), it was time for our family egg hunt at home. I am proud to report that Claire gave up her strongly held gender bias and embraced an equal opportunity egg hunt approach. She snatched up every treat-filled plastic vessel she could find, regardless of color. I was also really impressed that she would actually search for hidden eggs. The community events were more "egg grabs" than "egg hunts", but Claire was up to the challenge of finding the eggs Grammy and Grandad hid around our yard for her.

Claire also dropped her feud with the Easter Bunny this year. She has never been a fan, and last year she refused to even get close enough for a picture. Then, the day before Easter, we went to the mall to ride the carousel and, completely on her own, she asked to visit the Easter Bunny. I expected a repeat of our Santa experience - excited until it was her turn, then an absolute refusal to get within three feet of him. But when it was Claire's turn, she walked up to Easter Bunny (a little cautiously), said hello, and then willingly sat in his lap and smiled for some pictures. I was shocked, but so excited to finally have some Easter pictures for the scrapbook. Here they are...

Easter wasn't all egg hunts and candy for us, though. We really wanted Claire to know (a three-year-old version) of why we celebrate Easter. I looked around for a book to read but couldn't really find much (any suggestions, moms?). Finally, I just decided to tell her about it during bathtime. When I got to the part where I explained that there were some people who didn't like Jesus, were very mean to him, and hurt him and killed him, Claire gave me her "that's crazy" look again. So, it's not really the most kid-friendly story, I suppose, but she did seem to be okay with it when I explained that Jesus rose and then went to live with God in Heaven.

So overall, I think she understands the eggs, candy, and bunny a little better than the resurrection, but I suppose that's normal for an almost three-year-old. Now, I just have to hope Claire understands that Easter is a one-off situation. I really don't want to spend all summer telling her she can't pick up that half-eaten sucker on the playground for snack time. She'll probably just give me her "you're crazy" look as she pops it in her mouth.

Spiders Have Families, Too.

Claire has a love/hate (mostly hate) relationship with bugs. She appreciates the occasional butterfly and ladybug, but finds all other bugs and insects repulsive and disturbing. She freaks out if she sees a fly, roly poly, or spider in the house. Sometimes, she freaks out when she sees a bit of dryer lint that she believes closely resembles a bug. Usually, she moans, tells us she's really scared, and looks something like this...

So yesterday, there was a spider in my bedroom. I grabbed a paper towel and took care of business, as I have done many times before. (Unless Josh is around. Then I make him do the dirty work.) Anyway, Claire was freaked out at the mere mention of a spider, but I assured her that I killed it. Then, she asked to see the spider. I explained to her that I had killed it, it was dead and gone. She looked confused, pondered this for a moment, and then asked, "Is he with his Mommy and Daddy? Is the spider with his Mommy and Daddy and baby brother?"

Ummmmmm... yes? Yes. Let's go with that, instead of "Well, honey. Mommy killed him. Crushed him. He's dead. He's not alive anymore. Did you know living things like animals and people can die? They can just stop being alive. Especially if Mommy crushes them into an unrecognizable assembly of body parts and fluid. Sweet dreams tonight!"

She might be a little more obedient for a few days, but I don't know if that would make up for the 2am night terrors for the next year.

Okay, so I know that's probably not the recommended "death talk" for preschoolers, but I'm starting to think I should find out what is appropriate. I think it's something that comes up for a lot of kids in the 3-5 year old range and I want to be prepared to explain the circle of life without completely freaking her out. Maybe we could just watch "The Lion King" and listen to that Elton John song? ;-)

Google, here I come.

Jingle Bells

What?!? It's January 21?!?

Well, merry late Christmas, because I'm posting about a classic holiday song gone toddler. As is the case for many households, things got busy around here during the holidays and I am just now back to blogging. So before we say an official goodbye to my favorite holiday of the year, I want to share these videos of Claire belting out the festive and (at the time) seasonally appropriate "Jingle Bells". Enjoy!

This first video is one of her hilarious home practice sessions after we introduced her to hot chocolate. Please excuse her wardrobe. She wanted to show off her big girl panties, so she decided regular pants were an unnecessary part of her pajamas.



This video is her preschool's performance at their annual Christmas sing-along. This was Claire's first time on stage and I am proud to say she was fully clothed and quite docile during the performance. Her first taste of fame did leave her wanting more though. We didn't catch it on video, but when they dismissed the two year olds to sit with their parents for the rest of the show, Claire did NOT want to go. She cried and went limp on the floor when we tried to remove her from the stage. I think we may have a Broadway star on our hands. ;-)