A loss with no name…

In October 1988, President Ronald Reagan Proclaimed October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month and today, October 15th, as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. He said, “When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses her or his partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them.”

This month recognizes the loss so many parents experience across the United States and around the world. It is also meant to inform and provide resources for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirths, birth defects, SIDS, and other causes.

I’m sure there’s all sorts of political mumbo jumbo associated with all of this that I don’t care to be involved in, but the bottom line is this, I like what he said and in a world that is full of so much badness, it’s nice that there is an informative resource for people who are hurting. 

A fellow blogger, Lexi Behrndt, who lost her infant son Charlie in 2014, wrote a beautiful letter to all grieving mothers, you can read it here.

It reminded me of a poem I wrote a few years ago about my miscarriages.   

 Thanks to time, the loving support of friends and family, and our wonderful hope for the future, we have made it through these difficult times. I hope that is the case for all of those parents out there hurting today, and every day. 

sugar baby 

Here’s a throwback from just a few months ago (in case you didn’t read the previous post, I’m reposting some “oldies but goodies” this week) but it was just so darn cute I had to share again. 

I realized today I haven’t been to a baby shower in like six years. None of my friends are having kids! So I guess that fact, millions of unused Pinterest ideas, plus the fact that I’m not having my own, made me pretty excited for the shower I’m going to tomorrow.

I decided to make some cute baby themed sugar cookies in the color scheme of her registry and the party.
I’m not going to lie to you, it’s a lot of work. But the result is well worth it and people love them! One nice thing is you can make the cookies ahead of time. I make a double batch of Martha’s recipe (found here) as well as her royal icing recipe which is just 2 cups of powdered sugar and 5 Tb of meringue powder mixed with a little water. The trick is getting the texture right, you want it nice and thick for piping the outlines but then thinned with water for flooding the cookies. It sounds complicated, but once you get the hang of it it’s pretty simple. Here’s my stack after the baking stage. 

 

That’s a process in itself but now for the real time consuming fun, icing and decorating. I actually enjoy it though and find it somewhat therapeutic, it’s slow and methodical and a great time to binge watch Parenthood on Netflix! Once you pipe and flood the cookies you have to let them dry for a good amount of time.  


And then you can decorate! I got some of my inspiration from Pinterest and some just from the old noggin (wow I really thought spell check would get me on that one, turns out it’s a real word!) Here’s the finished product! 

   
     

Pretty cute if I do say so myself! If you like these, check out my tea party inspired chalkboard cookies here

“H” is for heartbreak…

Today is a rough day. And that’s ok, we’re all allowed one every now and then. As much as we may try, life can’t always be sunshine and rainbows. As many of you know, I have PCOS and because of this the butcher and I have struggled with infertility, suffering through three miscarriages over the past several years. This is something that is often very hard for people to understand and with good intentions of course, say things like “just relax, it will happen”, “why don’t you just adopt”, and the worst of all, when meeting someone new, “are you planning on having children?”. Unfortunately infertility has nothing to do with relaxing, just like you can’t cure cancer by doing yoga. And although adoption is a wonderful thing, it is extremely expensive and comes with its own set of anxieties. About seven months ago though, we had a little glimmer of hope when we thought we might have the chance to do a private adoption (this is the best case financial scenario as far as adoption goes because you cut out the middleman adoption agency which is where most of the fees accumulate and deal directly with the expectant mother and an adoption lawyer) with a woman my husband worked with that was contemplating putting her baby up for adoption. She was a very young, single woman, with no means to support a child and not even necessarily the desire either. We tried not to get our hopes up but spoke with her over the next few months letting her know we were interested and contacted an adoption attorney who we kept on standby as we waited for her to make her decision. She seemed to really like us and gave us the very strong impression that she wanted to do this and wanted us to be the adoptive parents. We didn’t talk about it much with our friends and family, or even each other for that matter, and I honestly tried to put it out of my mind as at this point I’m unfortunately used to disappointment in this area (but that doesn’t mean I didn’t secretly create a registry on Target.com and make a private “adoption” board on Pinterest). Long story short, she had the baby last week. And she decided to keep it. Like I said, I was preparing for this so although I was crushed, my husband took it harder. And to add insult to injury, she recently started dating another coworker who is in the same department as my husband. He (who is also very young) has moved in with her and is supposedly going to “help her” raise the baby. Today, my husband came home on his lunch break and told me that they came into work today (already a sign of two kids with no idea what they’re doing bringing a one week old out on a rainy day to a crowded grocery store) with a little pink-faced, black-haired, 6 pound boy to show off. “That should have been my son” is all he could muster to say to me. It was like a bullet to our chests and every pent-up emotion from the beginning of this process came flooding out. And my poor husband, though he’s made of steel, now has this in his face every day. As upsetting as this all is I know we have each other, an adorable puppy, two beautiful nieces we love like our own, and are surrounded by great friends and family. This isn’t the end, we aren’t giving up, and even if it doesn’t happen now we have a brighter hope for the future. So tomorrow is another day and things will get better, but for today I’ll allow myself a little cry, because “h” is for heartbreak.
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