Summertime

Kids + Popsicles + Swimming = Summertime Bliss

Zach & Noah DaSilva, Taylor Aupperle, Cali Croatt, and Leighton!

Parent/Tot

Here's our last parent/tot class...a success!

Proof

Future

Future grammy winner?

Ridiculous

Ridiculously cute, that is!  This girly stuff is just innate...it must be!

Cousins at play: Hairdresser!

Not all sad

Life is good.  Let me repeat that: life is so good.  It's not all the sadness and tears that my blog may imply, I promise.  The blog is just a fantastic outlet for me.  

Here's the happy stuff that fills much more of our lives:

Learning to swim with Mama

Loves the independence

First movie theater experience: yep I smuggled that water in (and pretzels!)

This incident had Jon and I dying of laughter...and a few on-lookers!

First "Lil' Tots" class (parachutes, hula hoops, balls, songs)



Corn and burgers - yummy!

Great Grandma Jo with the cousins

Finally...an 'almost' real smile when I asked her for it!

See....happy times encompass my life more often than not!

Name

In understanding and being taught more and more about the miscarriage grieving process, we were strongly encouraged to name our little girl.  It was something I had thought about and had certainly seen others do, but it felt unnecessary and "better" to ignore that part and just "move forward".  I was wrong.  This process is not about constantly moving forward; nor is it about stages.  It's a circle; sometimes I swing around the circle a little higher and then other times I swing backwards.  Either direction is ok: I want need to feel it all.  Forward, backward, forward.  Eventually I will come full circle in this grieving process.  That said, I was simply avoiding another very real aspect of her loss.  I was wrong about not naming her.

She deserves a name; a title.  She was more than just "the miscarried baby." She was dreamed about and yearned for.  She was supposed to be a newborn, a toddler, a child, a teen, a woman, a wife, a mother, a grandmother.  She was supposed to be showered with kisses on her soft little skin.  She was ours....she is ours.

One day, Leighton will ask - and we will be honest.  She had a sister that would have been just under 3 years younger than her. 

A sister named Livvi.

Belly Envy

Yesterday evening was a weird step back in my healing process.  I have been doing so well over the last month with the miscarriage....but then I made a mistake.  As a friend of mine would say "an epic mistake":  I calculated how far along I would have been, if I was still pregnant. 

19 weeks, coming up on 20 weeks.

It hit me hard.  I didn't even realize that it hurt until I was jogging last night and tears suddenly started streaming.  Running + crying = not easy. 

Why did it bug me?  I'll tell you why:

1. It's the half-way mark of pregnancy
2. It's around the time you can find out the gender
(I wonder if my wish to keep it a surprise or my hubs wish to find out would have won out)
3. It is the same time that I took my first "belly shot" when I was pregnant with Miss L.

And to make matters worse....I searched diligently through the blog to find the picture:

Me preggo with Miss L at 19 weeks

I want my belly back.  I want my pregnancy back.  I want my little girl back.  I want Leighton's sibling back.

It. Still. Stings.

June Bug

Here is my Buggy: looking older every day!  My neighbor took this shot on a whim the other night (don't feel bad about your camera, she is a professional!)

I love this little girl so much!

Finally.

Yep, that's my Hcg level!  Whoo-hoo!  After 8.5 long weeks, my pregnancy hormone is finally less than 5.  No more blood draws, no more questions if this will ever end....it has. Whew.  On to bigger and better things please...