Tag Archives: sad

Just things…

Hubby took me to FarmAid this weekend. We had these tickets for a long time & with Saturday’s gruesome event, we thought it was best for us to still go. It was good to go. Get out of the house, be alone with Hubby… I did spend much of the day sobbing in my seat. The people around us must have thought I was a crazy, emotional, pregnant woman. Seriously. Sobbing. It didn’t help when Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds played nearly the SADDEST set I’ve ever seen. EVER. EVER. If you’re a DMB Fan, like us, you can check out the setlist here. I’ll also list the songs here for those that don’t want to take the jump to the link:

*Funny the Way It Is – not a SAD SAD song… but it’s not a super happy one either. The title mainly says it.

*Grace Is Gone – if you’re a Dave Fan and this song hasn’t made you cry… I just don’t think you have a heart.

*Stay or Leave – the last bit of the chorus goes “stay or leave, i want you not to go, but you did”

*Gravedigger – played with Willie Nelson, I don’t need to get into why this one is sad. It was really awesome to hear Willie Nelson singing it. I actually like his cover of this song better than Dave’s version. Something about Willie’s voice makes it extra… incredible.

Dave & Tim finished the set with three (? maybe four ?) more songs. I love Dave. And Tim. I especially love acoustic sets – which this was, and is generally how Dave & Tim play together. Guitars always make me cry. I just think they’re so beautiful. Of course, violins, pianos, and other instruments make me cry too. (Music moves me. I’m one of those people.) I’ve never seen them play together in person so it was exciting in that respect. This was the saddest set I’ve seen Dave/DMB/Dave&Tim do since Leroi died. We were there when they did their first post-burial show at the Gorge. So sad. And in a way, Sunday’s set was a lovely tribute to my little cat. Right? We watched the show again last night on TV and sure enough the tears came flowing again.

When will this become easier? It thunderstormed last night and when I woke up at 6:30am to take my medicine (I’m on a strict 6 hour pill taking schedule), I couldn’t get back to sleep. I kept thinking of my poor little cat, buried in the backyard, getting soaked to the bone. Will I ever stop worrying about her? It seems silly that I do… but I can’t help myself.

I’d totally be a crazy old cat-lady if I never got married… or if Hubby died. He says if he dies, he knows I’ll become one. Maybe. I don’t really argue this fact because well… I probably would!



In other news, I’ll be 28 weeks pregnant tomorrow. It seems unreal how time has flown! That means I’m in the third trimester! Only 12 weeks to go after tomorrow! I also have a checkup tomorrow so I’m excited to go and ask my doctor all my questions (I have lots!) and hear the heartbeat, etc. I still think Snowdrop is coming Thanksgiving weekend. If not Thanksgiving weekend, she’ll come before her due date. (Great – now that I’ve written that, she’ll probably be overdue… haha!) So I probably have LESS than 12 weeks to go! Whoohoo! 😉

I have been having a few contractions here & there… not super worrysome but something I’m keeping tabs on. I still haven’t had more than two (maybe three) in an hour so that’s a good thing. But they are painful when it happens. Braxton-Hicks are still coming & sometimes I feel a pinching down there. I felt it last pregnancy but I can’t for the life of me remember what it meant. I suppose I could Google it but then I’d get myself worked up into thinking something was terribly wrong. I’ll just wait until tomorrow… 🙂

Junie & Mags are doing great! They’re talking a WHOLE LOT MORE and SINGING every day. And I’ve figured out that they LOVE to watch cooking shows! Any time I’ve been watching the news or something where they go and have a cooking segment -the girls are enraptured by it! Today I watched Rachael Ray make Bolognese sauce. The girls didn’t look away from the TV during the whole segment! Then, they proceeded to “cook” me some food in their pretend kitchen. How cute is that? 🙂 I think it’s adorable. I might be biased.

So I’m trying to figure out something to make with them tonight. Actually, Bolognese sauce sounds really yummy. I would totally eat some right now. Too bad I have no meat to cook up…

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Feeling Less Than Worthy…

My in-laws bought the girls a playhouse. I haven’t seen it yet. I imagine it’s used from a friend of theirs (which is fine, totally okay that it’s used, I have no problem with used childrens toys in good condition) but maybe they bought a new one. I don’t know. I haven’t seen it yet, I was just told tonight that they bought them a playhouse.

Just another way to make me feel less than worthy.

They didn’t do it on purpose, I’m sure. Why would they think that would make me feel badly? I just do. I put a playhouse on the registry so that we could purchase it after the baby was born for 10% off… I wanted to buy my daughters a playhouse. (Although, not that we’d really actually have room here for a playhouse…) What, are they going to take the girls to DisneyWorld without me? Take them to Europe for the first time because we just can’t afford it?

I can’t provide for them in the ways that I want to. We can’t afford to put them into dance classes, or tumbling classes, or music lessons (yes, I know, they’ll only be two in two weeks… but we won’t be able to afford these things next year, or the year after that when they would be able to take classes). We are trying to figure out how in the world we’ll be able to send them to private (Catholic) schools. We are both really unwilling to send them to public school, for many reasons of which I won’t get into today. (Mainly, the Catholic thing.) I’m glad that my children have grandparents who can “take care” of them… but it makes me feel completely unworthy as a parent that I can’t do the same. I mean, it’s just a freakin’ plastic playhouse… right? I don’t want to (nor do I feel qualified, especially in THIS economy) go out and get a job because well… if I did, then they’d be missing out on ME. I think it’s very important for me to be at home with them until they’re at least in school (all the kids in school). I’m not trying to knock the working moms out there – good for you! I’m glad you have a job you love and that you’ve been allowed to succeed in… I never had that kind of luck when I was a working girl. More power to you! 🙂

It’s just with the new baby coming, I already feel like the little I could give them or was giving them is being taken away or cut down. And I think it’s so unfair to do to them when they just deserve the best of the best. And it’s unfair to do to them when they’re just now getting to the age when I could do stuff with them. Like baking cookies together and outings, etc. Especially now that I’m pregnant, I can hardly push them around the mall without overworking my body. There’s no way I could push them around the zoo – it’s very hilly, not to mention all the strapping/unstrapping to lift them up to see the animals… not a one person job. (Again, to all you SuperMoms out there who CAN do it all – good for you. I’m not one of you Super People.)

So here I am. Feeling less than worthy. And when I try and talk to “good old Hubby” (seriously, I’m in need of a sarcastic font… aren’t we all?) he just takes his pillow and turns his back to me in silence. Because he thinks I’m just making a stab at him and his salary. But the thing is, I’m not. He always thinks I am when I get upset about these things, and I’m not.

So not only am I the worst mom ever… I’m now an ungrateful wife. Great.

Big ultrasound tomorrow. I hope it’s a boy just so he’ll shut the F**K up about “third legs”, “penises”, “having a SON” (as if having a SON is the greatest most wonderful amazing stupendous thing that will happen to him during his life)… I’m so tired of all the male-whateverness this is about. SO TIRED OF IT.

I hope our SON grows up to be a flaming world famous ballet dancer.

I’ll write tomorrow about the ultrasound, etc. Till then I’ll just be wallowing in my unworthiness gorging myself with the butter cookies that Junie, Mags and I made tonight after dinner.

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Thoughts about Loss

I just don’t understand why bad things happen. I don’t think I ever will.

I’m still so sad about Miss Annaleigh. I never expected to become so “involved” with a blog. Is that weird? I came back every day hoping for an update on the miracle that was those babies. I’ll continue to read, of course, for as long as the blog remains. I cried when I read they were born… I cried when I read about the little milestones they were stepping on. The minor weight gains, eating 2ml, being able to breathe better, kangarooing – it all affected me so greatly. I went first thing in the morning/last thing at night to check for an update. I thrived on knowing the babies were doing well and growing; I said as many prayers when they were well as I did on the days things seemed to go awry. I’ve cried so many times this week over Annaleigh and for Joe and Brooke and Charlie and Lily. I don’t even “know” these people.

And yet, I do. They are parents just like me. They are a family, just like mine. Although all of my babies have been big surprises – they tried and tried and tried again until they were blessed with three. I wasn’t trying, they were trying – we’re parents just the same. We know the joy of seeing our babies for the first time. We know the heartache of being told there is something wrong. I don’t know the heartache of having to give my child back to God – but they do. It hurts me when I know that other parents know that pain. I can only imagine there is no worse hurt. The pain of losing the people in my life that I have lost is always with me. It’s strong. On bad days, I lament my losses endlessly until I fall asleep, puffy-faced and tear stained. On good days, I am able to laugh when I think of random memories. On bad and good days, I feel them around me and know that I’m never alone. Even for a moment.

I don’t know personally the pain of losing a child to God. I only know the pain of loss…. I am adopted. I’m the oldest of six adopted children. There were several times we had to give a baby back because a birthmother changed her mind or a birthfather wouldn’t sign the papers. As a child, giving back those babies… the pain of losing my new brother or sister – has stayed with me all these years. I still wonder about them. I don’t know the pain of losing a child to God. I only know the pain of loss. If God had taken my brothers and sisters away, they’d still be here with me.

I was very scared we would lose Magnolia after she was born. I was practically convinced we would. Before she was born, she was diagnosed with hydronephrosis in her right kidney as well as likely having reflux issues with said kidney. Her other kidney (the left one) never developed properly we were told, so after she was born we should expect it to disappear.

She was born and put immediately on antibiotics as a precaution. An ultrasound was performed on her kidney and it turned out to look pretty bad. Surgery was probable. We would visit the specialist two weeks after she came home. Being born at 35 weeks 5 days, we were very lucky that the girls only had to spend an extra day (than me) in the hospital. No NICU time. We were blessed. I cried all night the day they stayed in the hospital and I went home. We went back to the hospital at 11pm to visit them. I felt so bad leaving my precious babies behind. I felt like I was losing time with them.

And here are parents (not just the DiGiuseppes) but other parents I know (and blog-stalk, not in a creepy way I promise) who have had to leave their babies in NICUs for weeks, months, etc. How do they do it? Here I was worried about ONE night. God never gives us more than we can handle, so I can only think these parents must be really, really, really freakin’ strong. And God just likes to throw me on the edge for a minute before pulling me back. He knows I can’t handle the edge.

Two weeks after she was born, we went to the kidney specialist. He reviewed her ultrasound and the tests performed at the hospital and basically told us that we need to wait. She would need surgery before she was five years old. It was best to put surgery off for as long as possible, providing no big issues creeped up. We needed to make sure she was making pee-pee diapers and things were “working” okay. He said to call if we had any concerns, if it seemed like things weren’t working, etc. And come back in a year.

And so we waited. We changed diapers religiously to ward off the chance of infection. We went every two weeks to pick up the new Rx (the medicine lasted only 14 days every time it was made). We freaked out when we missed a dose – often waking her up in the middle of the night to make sure she got her “pink mo” (mo-mo is what we call milk in our house; so ‘pink mo’ is what we called the pink medicine – yes, we’re strange. we know it.) I was crazy about people washing hands before they touched her and I nearly washed my hands off (seriously) trying to keep a germ-free-no-cross-contamination zone in my house….. I didn’t let anyone (ANYONE – except for grandmas, grandpas, and my siblings (hubby is an only-child)) in our house for a whole month. We actually held the girls up the window for people to see them. Seriously, like monkeys behind glass in a zoo. I was mildly psychotic. I’ve yelled at old women in church for touching my daughters, and I’ve smacked strangers hands away. Call me crazy. (I don’t care if you do.)

But I HAD to be so protective. This was my daughter. If I wasn’t SO protective, I would lose her. I was sure of this.

We went back to the doctor six months later to the specialist who did a reflux test and checked her now nearly disappeared left kidney. The reflux came back a 5/5. A 5 being the worst it could be. He told us to continue the antibiotics and that sometimes these things correct themselves. At 5/5 we shouldn’t expect it to correct itself but he still wanted to wait to do the surgery. He said basically “the longer we can push off the surgery, the better for her”. I knew my daughter would need surgery. I just hoped we could push it off until she was four or five. That was the age the doctor said would be best. We prayed. We prayed a lot. We just wanted her to get better. We wanted there to be no problems this year. The pink mo would help keep infections away & I would continue on with my protective mothering.

A year later we returned. Magnolia was now a year and a half. Thriving. Running, jumping, biting her sister, trying to talk, and had gotten very used to taking her pink mo. We had no issues during the last year. Pee-pee diapers were plentiful. Some days she’d wake up dry, some days she’d wake up with the pee-pee-est diaper ever. But nothing major had creeped up on us.

The first reflux test was difficult; she was only six months old. They had trouble with the catheter insertion… she cried a lot… but she was still a baby-baby. She didn’t have the ability to really comprehend or be scared. (I think?) She was more aware this time of what was happening to her. She did not approve of all the hands touching her, nor did she approve of the catheter for the reflux test. That was very hard. “Daddy, daddy, daddy” she kept screaming. I was of no use to her. Her Daddy would protect her, this she knew. I would have protected her, too… but in a way, it’s nice that she knew her big strong Daddy could “fight off her offenders and protect her honor”. Mommy would just tell her everything would be okay and that Mommy was proud of her. (She also couldn’t say Mommy yet…)

Her left kidney is gone. Disappeared. Vanished. “Reabsorbed into her body” which sounds super sci-fi. The reflux test went well, apparently, as we were told by the specialist that her kidney had corrected itself. There was no more reflux… a 0/5… she didn’t have to have surgery… she could stop taking the pink mo… I needed him to repeat all of this twice because I didn’t really aborb it. It was surreal in a way. I was confused. My husband had tears in his eyes, I hardly showed an emotion. I think I was shocked? I’m not even sure now why I… acted that way. I suppose… I don’t know, I guess I was so surprised that everything had changed. In an instant.

I had been so sure that I would need to prepare myself for a goodbye. A forever goodbye with my precious Magnolia. My daughter. A piece of me. A piece of my husband, too, but a piece of me I had carried with me for my entire life. Only at her conception did she fully become My Magnolia – but until then, she was there with me. The whole time, just waiting for Daddy to come and give her his part.

I still worry now that something will happen to her even though the doctor gave her the all-clear to live life… And I count myself blessed every day that I wake up and she’s babbling (or crying) with her sister in their room. I still worry we’ll wake up and she’ll be gone. I’ll probably never stop worrying about this. I am blessed, I know. I have been given a gift that some other parents have not been given. I have been dipped into the waters of loss… And because of this gift, I am able to empathize with the hardships and trials others are given.


I can’t wait to read more about Lily & Charlie and how well they’re doing. They have a long way to go from here. But they also have their sister, Annaleigh, watching out for them from Heaven, her hands on their shoulders as they pass through life helping to guide and protect them. She’s always going to be there for them and for her Mommy and Daddy.

Brooke & Joe – I am so very sorry for your loss. I’ve prayed for you and your family for a long time and will continue to do so. I hope you are able to find comfort for the rest of your life through Charlie & Lily and the memories you were able to make with Annaleigh. You are blessed in an infinate number of ways. Even though it’s not in the best or happiest way possible, Annaleigh will always be there with you. Thank you for sharing your story with me.

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