2 a.m. is never a good time to write a blog post. But I can’t sleep, and have the urge to write. So here we are.

I’m sitting here with my two boxes — Abigail and Jack — and wondering what I’m supposed to do. I’m stuck. My body very much wants to never be pregnant ever again. My heart very much wants another baby. My mind just can’t make sense of it all. And so, I wait, undecided, unable to move forward because I don’t know which path to take. In any other situation I’d let the fates take me where they may, but I’m fairly sure in this situation it’s not the fates talking, it’s just biology, and biology doesn’t have feelings.

There are more reasons than I can count to not have another baby. For one, I just never envisioned our family with more than two children. My body is not in great shape, my back hurts a lot, I am overweight, and I don’t want to do any more shots. I doubt, at this point, that pregnancy really poses any serious risk to my health, at least in the blood clot department, but there’s still the possibility that you can’t ignore.

I want to move on. I love my children but kids can be a pain in the ass. I’m looking forward to a life with no more diapers, no more breastfeeding, and while I’m sure the tantrums aren’t done, I do appreciate the use of words. I look forward to more time to craft, to doing more elaborate things with the kids, to trips, and discussions, and sharing movies and books. I like the idea of older kids. I’m not so enamoured with the daily rigors of a newborn. I feel more like myself now than I have in at least five years and it’s hard to give that up for another three or four years. I might even get a job one of these days.

And yet. I sit with my boxes and wonder. I’d get to revisit all those things I thought I’d never see again. First smiles, favorite clothes, belly laughs.. another chance at all the wonderfulness that is a baby.  Pure adoration. Nobody loves you like your baby loves you. My oldest would adore a baby, and there’s nothing like seeing your children grin at each other. Truth: I expected to have another baby and I want what I’ve lost.

I wonder at how unfair life can be. I fear what could possibly be next if we did try again. Could we tolerate yet another loss? Are we fighting a losing battle? Should we cut our losses and run? Nevermind all of the run-of-the-mill things parents get to worry about with illness and birth defects. I was naive enough with Jack to think that nothing could go wrong, because it just couldn’t after what happened last time. And now I know never to think that way ever again. Sometimes I’m amazed I can make it through the day just knowing how things can go wrong in a mere second, how life can change, hell, life can just end. I’m almost constantly aware that I should be living every second for what it’s worth, but that’s so exhausting I can’t summon the effort.

So we wait in limbo for our minds to decide, for our hurt to heal, for our hearts let go. The fact is I’m not sure I want another baby, I think I just want Jack. But I can’t have Jack. So I hold a box. And wait.

We’re at our first official hand me down handknit! Witness the Robin Hood Jacket on two different children! The original:

And baby bro wearing the wool while camping this weekend:

It’s probably just me but I find this HILARIOUS! And happy. Very, very happy. Obviously they’re different sizes but since the Boo would only submit to wearing the sweater a couple times I decided to start in on the little guy early.

Course he’s already developing a flair for the dramatics, so we’ll see how long it lasts.

Incidently, I made one change to the sweater since I last talked about it, however many years ago that was. I crocheted along the back from shoulder to shoulder across the hood. It was way too stretchy and the top button wouldn’t stay buttoned. It’s much better now.

(Oh and yes, those are the same shoes too. I hang on to everything!)

ETA: Oops I realized that this isnt exactly true.. Bean has been wearing Boo’s soaker shorts for a while now. So this is the first hand me down sweater. So there.

It’s been one week since we lost Baby Jack, as he’s referred to on a daily basis around here. Boo was much more attached to the baby than I realized (in fact, so was I), so we’ve had a lot of discussions about how these things happen, how sad we all feel, and what comes next. When we told him what happened, he cried, “But I wanted the baby!” and threw himself sobbing on the couch. So sad.. so did we, my poor Boo, so did we. It’s so cruel that we had only just reached the point of not only acceptance, but looking forward to our lives changing. While we knew this might happen, that there was always that chance, that this wasn’t a surprise, it still hurts an amazing and horrible amount.

I’m still mostly at a loss for words. I spend most of the day actively ignoring everything bubbling just under the surface. That’s not too hard with such active kiddos to care for — and I feel incredibly lucky to have them. They don’t need Mommy falling apart on them, so I don’t. Lying on the couch all day, eating ice cream, and crying isn’t really possible right now, as much as that’s what I’d rather be doing. It’s sort of crazy that one has to actually find time to mourn.

Unfortunately for me, that time is hitting at night, around bedtime, when there’s nothing left to do but think. I know mourning is a process and there’s a lot to work through with this whole situation, but it still sucks. I’m actually afraid of going to bed because I can’t stop crying.

There have been some precious moments this week.. moments I hope to never forget. Not only Jack’s birth, as terrible and painful as that was, but the crystalline moment when I felt so grateful to at least be able to see him and hold him and say goodbye, which didn’t happen with A.B.

Another gut wrenching moment was watching Boo hold his tiny baby brother at the funeral home, wrapped up in a blanket that Boo picked out. Boo wasn’t remotely afraid or aware that what he was doing in looking at and holding this tiny body might be gross or unsightly somehow. He was curious, he was sad, and he obviously really loved that little baby. I am so proud of him, even as I’m so sad and lost with everything that’s happened.

One of the strangest things I’ve experienced with losing a baby whilst caring for other living children is the juxtaposition between feeling extreme distress, anger, love, and pain, due to the loss of the baby, or more accurately that baby’s potential, but simultaneously continuing to enjoy your living children, laughter continuing to ring through the house, kisses and hugs still being given, and stories at bedtime still being read. It seems almost wrong that the world continues to spin; yet it does.

And so the days pass, Boo walks up and says, “Baby Jack came out too soon and Abigail was a great swimmer but tied a knot in her cord,” and life goes on. We really miss the baby, Baby Jack, and I wonder where we’ll go next. My whole life is still flipped upside down, even though this even has effectively brought us back to where we were several months ago. Yet nothing will ever be the same. We may have another baby some day, or we may not, but we’ll always have those memories of Jack and how we re-evaluated our family and our life. I honestly thought I’d feel some relief, but I don’t. I just want my baby back. I want my life upside down. I want my big boy to have the little brother he so loves.

But I can’t have any of that. And so, one week in, I’m still lost. Aimless. Hurting. But life goes on.  My kids need me, even if for some of them that only means answering questions about memories.

B&D August 23, 2009; 10pm.

Sometimes there just aren’t words.

Going through the latest Interweave Knits Fall 2009 and Knitscene magazines put a bee in my bonnet about knitting. This is a good thing since I missed doing it, but was entirely unmotivated due to feeling poorly. I still don’t feel great, but am doing better, so I’m back to knitting. Woo!

At first I was obsessing over the Alpaka Tunic from IK. (Incidently there are several patterns in there I love, like the Clasica Coat.) I think it’s adorable and would be a great maternity outfit. BUT the suggested yarn is a) hard to find, b) expensive, and c) too wooly as I’d want to wear this in the summer or just when I’m hot with the bun in the oven! Also it’s fairly unlikely I’d actually finish it before the baby was born. So that idea is on hold.

However along came the Heather Hoodie Vest from Knitscene, which gave me something else to obsess over! And fortunately I even have wool in my stash that works and I had no plans for. Woo! So I’m working on that:

Cute and functional, yes? See, I love my CPH, but I hardly wear it because it’s super wooly, which means super itchy, and I can only wear it over long sleeves. It’s pretty rare for me to need long sleeves AND a wooly sweater here in the winter, so for much of the year the sweater sits in the closet all lonely.

However, a short sleeve/vest sweater would be perfect! It will be much more versatile as I could put it over t-shirts or long sleeves. Also, I think my CPH is a smidge short so I can make this one longer. Yay! The yarn is Rowan Yorkshire Tweed, which is discontinued, but lovely nonetheless. Supposedly it’s Aran weight, but feels thicker to me. I’m modifying this pattern a little, but I’m sure I’ll write about those details later.

Now, I have two other projects I’m working on intermittently. These are some socks for Boo from yarn he picked out in Atlanta, gosh, two years ago? Three? Thought it was time to make them. The reason they aren’t done (because kid socks go pretty quickly) is that they are actually too small and I need to rip them out and make them a little bigger. I haven’t felt like it though, thus they sit. The yarn is Arauncania.

This is yet another Child’s Placket Neck Pullover from Last Minute Knitted Gifts. And yet more yarn from the stash! Go me. This sweater is for the Boo and uses, appropriately, yarn called Baby Boo, which was a sweet gift from my MIL because of the yarn’s name. It’s bamboo (unsurprisingly) and is lovely and soft. It’s slightly thinner than the recommended gauge so I’m actually knitting the 6 year old size for my nearly 5 year old, hoping it will fall somewhere in between. It’s looking a big large (the cuffs for the arms, not pictured as I only just started them, fit me. Hmm!) but oh well. Kids grow into things, right?

I’m also seaming up my kimono Tulips cardigan which may need to be lengthened, but that’s okay. I’ll use any spare yarn for that and that’ll be fine. That way I’ll use up every last morsel of yarn, which is pretty cool. I haven’t done much seaming because a) I’ve been obsessing over the hoodie vest and b) it takes a fair amount of time to sit and concentrate and my headaches haven’t been cooperating in that department. But I hope to finish it soon. It’s looking good.

I think that’s it for knitting at the moment! I have many more sewing projects in mind than knitting, but haven’t been sewing hardly at all. I’m not being terribly productive right now, but growing a baby takes a lot of energy!  Oh well. All in good time.

I started these felt balls waaaay back before Christmas for the Bean. I thought a color scheme of primary colored balls with their secondary counterparts wrapping around them sounded like a good idea.

They’re actually still not completely done. You can’t really tell from the picture (or, hey, maybe you can!) but the stripe part isn’t secured very well. It’s just needle felted on and while I intended to wet felt them again to get that stripe more flush with the ball itself, eh….. it hasn’t happened yet! Maybe they’ll finish felting through use. Who knows.

I can’t remember when I even got them to this point. May? June? Something like that! The colors aren’t entirely ideal either, but it’s what I had on hand. The yellow is alpaca r0ving and can I just say it’s rather a pain to felt? Probably would have been better to save for spinning. Oh well!

The Bean likes them well enough, but then he loves pretty much all balls. I think felt balls are a fantastic gift for 1 year olds though (and younger or older, for that matter). Good fun :)

About a month ago we found out we were expecting another baby. It has taken this long to figure out what to say about that!

I guess it’s easiest to start from the beginning. Several weeks ago I was feeling really crap. Tired, nauseated (especially at night), grumpy and generally just unwell. Finally after a few weeks of that, I remember talking to H one night and saying, What on earth is wrong with me? Do I have some sort of bizarre extended food poisoning? Very mild but persistant flu? Why do I feel so bad?

It sunk in then that, in fact, these feelings were very familiar, only since I was on birth control it hadn’t occured to me as possible that I could be pregnant. I have (I’m using present tense on purpose here) an IUD which has a .04% chance of failing. I even asked at the doc appt wherein I acquired said IUD what the chances were of getting pregnant and they were insistant that it’s very rare and never happens. Don’t even worry about it.

Well, suddenly I was really worried about it.  I scrounged up an expired pregnancy test and that came up positive incredibly quickly. So I made a doc appt, wherein they looked at me like I was crazy, but lo and behold their test was positive too. At this point the doc got worried because eptopic pregnancies are indeed possible, so they did an ultrasound and, thankfully, no ectopic pregnancy. It was just a normal pregnancy.

Right.

I was — and in many ways still am — in shock. Although we’re quite happy to have a third child, and were ironically even talking about adopting a third child some day, it was not in my plans to be pregnant again.

I have a hard time writing things like this down because I don’t want to hurt the child’s feelings should they read this in the future. It’ll probably suck enough to know they weren’t planned. But the truth is it’s been a monumental adjustment of my attitude and life plans to get used to the idea of another baby. I spent several weeks being mad at my body, thinking, What, blood clotting wasn’t enough of a challenge, now you had to subvert the flippin’ IUD as well?

Because that’s the other tricky piece of this saga: the IUD is still in place. They couldn’t get it out. I can only assume I was far enough along by the time I realized something was up (9 weeks) that the string had been sucked up and retrieving it would almost certainly prompt a miscarriage.

My gut reaction was that this baby, obviously already as stubborn as my other children, had made it this far under less than ideal circumstances, I figured s/he was obviously very special and deserved a chance. The risks of miscarriage are extremely high with an IUD in place (some sources say up to 50%) and if the baby can not only get attached with a foreign object invading its space, but it can avoid being miscarried, then yeah, it deserves a chance to live.

So here we are. Now we’re 13 weeks pregnant and things are going as well as can be expected, I suppose.

I’m back on my Lovenox shots, much to my displeasure. I’m absolutely paranoid about gaining too much weight and am continuing to work out when I can. Sleeping during this heatwave has been obnoxious. I still feel sick although that’s getting better. I’m tired, I’m grumpy, I’m… well, I’m just pregnant.

There are so many things that will need to change that I’m still thinking of them almost on a daily basis. We’ll have to get a bigger car. We’ll even need to buy a new carseat as our old one expired. I’ve already given away most newborn stuff so we’ll need to acquire more of that. I have no idea how we’ll organize bedrooms. I’ll probably break down and get a double stroller for the walks to our new preschool. Many, many, many projects, plans and ideas will be put off for yet another two years, at least. I won’t be able to visit home in the near future. I’ll be totally and completely out numbered. It will cost so much for all of us to visit relatives in the UK that it’s entirely likely that I will never be able to go back again. And on and on and on.

Of course there will be many brilliant things as well. All of the baby things about the Bean that I was trying to cherish as I expected him to be my last baby, I’ll get to experience again.  Boo is a great big brother and he’s looking forward to having another baby too, although I’m sure Bean is not as he won’t even be two yet. Poor H keeps telling me that he knows it will be hard, but it will be great. I know this. Really, I do.

But it is so hard to wrap my head around everything — breastfeeding again. Baby food again. TWO in diapers (I thought I had escaped that dreadful prospect!). Nevermind my own goals and dreams.

Two weeks before all this started I had even hit rock bottom and sobbed to H that I had to find a way to take care of myself because I couldn’t go on in the shape I was in — of course now I know that may have mostly been hormones talking. Nevertheless instead of getting in shape I’m now just staving off excess pregnancy weight.

Ah well — I’m very much in a “it will be what it will be” mode. I’m bleeding near constantly thanks to the IUD continually to do its job of irritating the uterine lining, so every day that starts again I wonder if it’s just irritation or if today is the day we’re going to lose the baby. Bean is still just a baby himself and I’m finding it extremely hard to take care of both him and Boo when I want nothing more than to relax and prop my feet up. Thank goodness H is taking good care of us all because otherwise I’d be a mess and the house would be a pigsty. I’m sure we’ll all be happy when this phase has passed.

So this is why the blog has been silent. I’ve been reading Harry Potter in an attempt to escape reality. I haven’t knit more than 10 rows in a month. My creative juices are zilch. I don’t feel like doing anything but sleeping. Mentally I’m re-inventing my life plans and trying to stay calm and positive. I have no idea what the future will hold, it’s day by day at this point. I do hope to return to normal at some point. I just hope it won’t be years.

This past year was the Boo’s first year in preschool. We were exceedingly lucky to land, completely by accident, at the school we did. We loved it, the Boo (most days) loved it, and his teachers were exceptional.

Combine that with my own inclination to make handmade gifts whenever possible (we did felted soaps for Christmas) and I was a bit stuck on what to make for end of year gifts. I truly wanted to thank his remarkable teachers for such a great year.

And then I remembered the embroidery ideas from The Creative Family. Although I didn’t go about it the same way, I love the idea of embroidering a child’s drawings. Since the Boo has become such a prolific artist this year, thanks in no small part to his school and teachers, I thought it would be cool to do something like that. But what can you put embroidery on? Pilllows would be odd.

And then I saw this adorable apple fabric and it all fell in place. Tote bags! With embroidery! Too cute and hopefully a useful gift for teachers, right? So here they are:

I have to admit I’m smitten with these. Love, love, love.   Thank goodness there is fabric left over because I want one! A little birdie told me my nieces would like two as well :)

I knew they would be fairly easy to make because, come on, they’re tote bags. However turns out all the patterns I have call for home decor weight fabric. Oops. I have quilting weight. So I had to research how to buff up lightweight fabrics. I had to order linen for the embroidery (well I suppose I didn’t have to, but I wanted to) which I also used for the handles.

I based this bag loosely on the bag in Lotta Jansdotter’s Simple Sewing book, but then turned to Last Minute Patchwork and Quilted Gifts for lining help. The dimensions were similar between the bags. (Er, I think. It’s been a rough week.)

I ended up interfacing the bag with plain old flannel. I believe I picked up that trick from Amy Karol but I’m not entirely sure. I thought about iron-on but I’m never convinced of the durability of that stuff. They have a wonderful heft and I’m not at all worried about the fabric ripping any time soon.

I actually have pictures of the inside fabric (polka dots and one Amy Butler print) and closeups of the finished embroidery but I haven’t uploaded them off my phone yet! I figured I should post while I had the time instead of waiting even longer.

At any rate, I do have a very early picture (uploaded to facebook!) when I just started doing the embroidery. This is actually my first ever embroidery so I’m very proud! I spent some time reading my embroidery books too. The bee is done here and the snail/slug picture is in progress. The other picture on the finished bags is a butterfly. Boo is very proud of these because they were drawn without stencils.

Also? I got to use my grandmother’s hoops. Yay for that too.

I rediscovered how much I enjoy sewing with these but how much I dislike sewing on a deadline. I also dislike the prep work. Washing fabric, drying fabric, ironing fabric, cutting fabric (which I’m very bad at), pinning fabric, finally getting to sew fabric but then stopping to press it again! Argh. I ended up only pressing down the seams along the top because I couldn’t figure out HOW to press the seams on the inside without putting creases in the bags. Boggle.

Hmm what else. I wanted to sew and then top-stitch the tops but I couldn’t figure out where to put the handles, so I ended up just top-stitching. Hope they hold up!

In any case. I loved this project and I think Boo’s teachers were genuinely touched. I do have to say these might have been more work than one would normally put into teachers gifts, although they certainly didn’t cost more. We would have spent more on gift certificates, which seems to be the default gift these days. Now whether or not the teachers would have preferred gift certificates is another question! Perhaps. But I do hope they liked them and that they’ll remember the Boo at least a little.  They made an indelible impact on his young life and I am forever grateful for their compassion, patience, and understanding as we navigated this very new stage of life for the Boo. I will miss them very much as we’re going to a different school next year.

Anna, Anne and Laura, you all are the best!

Boo wanted to make a Pointy Kitty for Baby’s birthday. We got as far as picking out fabric, cutting out the pieces and sewing the head before the birthday came and went and the kitty sat on the back burner.

I did, eventually, get it finished! Here it is:

With big bro’s kitty too, of course. I apologize for the crappy photos. Kitty was too busy being played with to have a proper photo shoot. That and for some reason everything is overexposed. Oh well.

This is probably my, what, sixth kitty? You’d think the pattern would get easier, but really, it doesn’t. I just know which parts take the longest now. I still suck at sewing on the head and I still haven’t figured out how to make the butt not quite so long.

Boo insisted Baby’s kitty have a heart just like his. I wasn’t going to do that because the reason Boo’s kitty has a heart was because it was a valentine’s pressie. But if the lad wants a heart, he gets a heart! Isn’t that sweet?

(Finally kitty gets some peace!)

One thing I dislike about this kitty is that I keep forgetting that white background fabric doesn’t generally work as the eye shapes don’t show up as well. Dark fabrics are better. Maybe next time I’ll remember! At least the polka dots are cute!

This last picture cracks me up. Kitty on the prowl! This is what most of the pictures look like. At least the kids were having fun :)

After a long and tearful talk with the hubby, my bike plans are on hold for a while. For many different reasons.

One concern of utmost importance is money, as seems always to be the case, sad as that is. Whatever I get, even if it’s something as simple as the Radish, costs more than we can realistically afford right now. I don’t want to save, I want it now, but I need to save. So there’s that.

Combine that with my need to exhaust all levels of research and come up with the perfect bike combo, and my dream bike isn’t happening any time soon. It may not even exist. (Hello complete long tail with step-through design? Where are you? And can you please come in baby blue with brown leather seat, 8 geared internal hub, internal lights, and disc brakes? Ahem.)

There is a trade-off for this though, which is that I get to join the Y. I am both saddened and heartened by this.

Sad because… it’s just not what I want. I want fitness and food and chores and housekeeping and errands and… all that to just be part of my LIFE. I don’t want to arrange childcare, drive to a gym, ride a bike to nowhere while listening to music or reading a book, lift weights from a multi-thousand dollar machine, and drive home again. It just doesn’t make sense to me. It’s like the McDonald’s of fitness, except that it’s inarguably better for you. It’s just so definitive of our society that we pay for the privilege to use our bodies in ways they were never meant to be used. It actually makes me a little bit sick to think about.

I think that’s one of the reasons I’m in such bad shape — although I actually don’t mind using gyms as such — is that the philosophy behind them doesn’t jive with my developing sense of how I want to live my life. So I don’t go to them, but I don’t do anything else either.

Which brings us to why this makes me happy. At least it’s something.

I feel like I’ve been trying literally for years to figure out how to include exercise in my life in a meaningful way that also included my kids. But all of my attempts ultimately failed, for a variety of reasons. My truth is that I can’t do “normal” exercise around my kids. If I do a video the eldest argues with me about using the TV and the baby crawls underneath me. If I use the Wii Fit I have to compete with the eldest for game time, which isn’t exactly effective. If I try to go for a walk I inevitably get resistance from one or both kids, and even if we make it out the door I end up walking bent over to push both, which isn’t good for my back. Not to mention walking that much isn’t good for my feet. We have no childcare to speak of. There are always needs to be met — diapers, food, etc. There’s always something.

I don’t get a break, I don’t have any time for myself, and I have little resistance to arguments. So while I can do little bits here and there, nothing is consistent or effective. It’s enough to stave off a truly bad back injury (knock on wood) but little more.

I finally reached a point the other day when the only thought that cheered me up was going for a bike ride. I didn’t want the ice cream in the freezer. I didn’t want to buy yarn. I didn’t want to buy anything. (Okay, except a bike, but I was sick of looking for one by then.) I wanted to go for a bike ride and I couldn’t and I was just devastated. I felt so good after my ride the other day and I needed to re-capture that. I hurt every day and I’m so sick of it. I’m sick of me. Something has to change.

But I can’t get a new bike right now. What’s a girl to do?

Join the gym.

So there it is. It means I won’t likely be joining any family bike rides this summer, much to my disappointment. It means I’ll only get to go on bike rides on my crappy bike once in a blue moon.

But it also means I’ll have time to truly shop for a new bike, try out everything I can and make an educated decision, then save for it. It means I can continue biking on my own to become a more confident bicyclist in general.  It means that I can work on myself at the gym so that whenever I do get my dream bike, I’m in better shape and better able to haul the kids around. And truthfully, all of that is a good thing.

So I may be disappointed, but it’s all okay. It will be okay and we’ll get there eventually. I’ve been looking for the slow life — looks like it found me, just in an unexpected way.