"same old song when things go wrong..."

I knew I hadn't blogged in a while, but I didn't realize it had been over two months. I know that no one reads this blog as a way to fill some sort of void in their life, so I really don't NEED to apologize for being gone for so long. I feel like I should apologize though. I can't explain it. I think I do that a lot - apologize. Anyway, whether I need to do it or not, I'm apologizing for being gone for so long.

Apologizing for not writing makes me a little sick. I usually love to write, and this blog was a place for me to do that. Whether I was writing about nail polish or losing our baby or music or whatever, blogging made me feel like I was connecting to that person that lives inside of myself - like she was finally getting to say all those things she was thinking. Knowing that she has not had that opportunity for quite some time makes me feel sad for her. And knowing that it's entirely possible that I won't blog again for a few more months makes that apology I just made up there seem trite.

It's the same old song when things go wrong (right Dad?), and when things go wrong with me, I suddenly drop the things I love. For MONTHS I have neglected writing, reading, cooking...all things I love intensely. It's as if I have simply lost the inspiration to do any of these activities. I have been working, cleaning house, watching TV and playing video games. That's about it. Looking back, I realize what a sad little existence I've been having lately, and I hate it.

Christmas was a blur. It was my worst Christmas ever, and I think it has everything to do with the fact that I knew deep inside that this should have been one of the best Christmases ever. I should have been very pregnant at Christmas, and instead my uterus reminded me day after day that it was empty. I thank God for my sister, who came to my rescue one Tuesday, and helped me get a jump start on cleaning my house for a church party we were hosting later that week. Her motivation to help me ignited the little bit of Christmas spirit that I had and it fueled me to get the house taken care of, presents wrapped, etc. I (hope) that Christmas came and went without my family realizing how miserable I was, but even if they didn't I guess the cat's out of the bag now. Oh well, it's over now. Maybe this Christmas will be better.

Some of my misery has a little to do with the increased hormones that are raging through my body. In December I started taking Clomid again, this time with Dexamethasone, a steroid that has been shown to increase fertility in some women when taken with Clomid. In December I took 50 mgs of Clomid. This month I am taking 100 mgs of Clomid, and next month (if I'm not pregnant) I will be taking 150 mgs. These meds, coupled with "coupling" obviously, should get me pregnant again. My new doctor is VERY optimistic, but I can't help feeling unsure. I am hopeful, but it seems like for a lot of my life, I am always waiting for that other shoe to drop. I can't help but think, "Okay, so we get pregnant. What if we lose THIS baby too?" The thought hurts me so much, I can't bear to think about it.

The pain that I have endured since August 11th is nothing short of monumental. Those first couple of days I kept getting comments from people about how strong I was, about how my faith was sustaining me, about how inspiring my attitude was. Looking back now, I think I was in shock over it all, and God's peace stepped in and allowed me to coast for a while. Since the reality of it all has sunk in, life just seems to suck a little. I close in on our due date, and I can't help but think about my friends who are due around the same time I was. I dread getting those calls from them to let me know their babies are here, safe and sound. I love them (and their babies) dearly, but will I be able to hold it together for them? Or will I break down in tears on the phone? I don't know...and I don't know how to prepare for it. I don't know how to prepare myself for February 26th either. Should we do something special, or just treat it like it's another day?

I can't help but get mad at God a little now and then about this whole mess. I mean, it took us almost 4 years to get pregnant to begin with. Shouldn't I have been able to keep the one baby we were actually able to conceive? Doesn't He see how unfair this is? Doesn't He know how much it hurts to lose a child? (Oh wait...yeah He does.) It just sucks. It sucks knowing that I can so easily turn my hurt and anger on God when I profess so much to have such great faith in Him.

5 months after our miscarriage, I am still hurting, and I can't help but wonder if the pain will ever go away. It must, right? I read blogs by women who have lost babies before, and their hurt seems to have been greatly diminished. I wonder, though, if that's because they have children to hold and raise after the fact. What if I never get that? What if I never have a child to call my own? Will this pain just sit in my chest throbbing for my whole life? I hope I never have to find out.

Having a baby just seems like the easiest thing in the world to do, and here I am, totally unable (so far) to accomplish this task. People who are totally unable and unfit to be parents do it all the time. Why can't I? Just doesn't seem right...but maybe that's a little self-righteous of me. I'm not perfect...just a little desperate I suppose.

So that's where I am. Yesterday at this time I was having a great weekend. We entertained (twice!) this weekend, the house was clean, I was cooking. It was great! Then last night as we laid down to go to sleep, it hit me like a ton of bricks. This grief just shows up out of nowhere, and smacks me down. And with one fell swoop, a great weekend ends with sobbing in bed, wrapped up in Matt's arms as he tries to console me. It's a big job, being married to me, and he's pretty great at it. I am so thankful for him.

I want to update you on things in my life though. Like my job, the new business my family and I are trying to get off the ground, etc. This just doesn't seem like the post for it though. I'll check back in soon...

It is what it is...

Matt and I were going to spend the day running errands and having fun. Church bazaar, bank, license plates, shopping, movie, dinner...it was going to be wonderful. I seem to love days like that more and more lately. If I'm out and about I don't have to think about how I'm feeling and what's really happening in this broken heart of mine.

I look back over the past three months, and realize that my spending has gotten out of control; my house is out of control; I AM OUT OF CONTROL. I haven't been returning phone calls. I procrastinate more than usual. I don't keep up with my housework. I hardly ever cook. My mind is always looking for something to do whether it's paint my nails a new color, rearrange a room, read a book or play a video game. Everything in me seems to not want to sit still and just be.

Sometimes I find myself surprised at the memories of our pregnancy and miscarriage. I think that I have taken the easy way out, and convinced myself that they never happened at all. I think I have tried to just rewind my mind to the time when we were having trouble getting pregnant. At times I'd much rather be there than here - on the other side where grief is waiting to take over.

A good friend came to stay with us for a couple days this week. She is pregnant with a baby that is due to be born just over a week after Squooshy was due. I tried to mentally prepare myself for her visit. I knew it would be difficult to see her knowing that I would be right around where she is in her pregnancy. She is so easy to talk to about the little things, the big things, the hard things, the fun things...it was really great to be with her! We definitely didn't avoid talking about our babies. We talked a lot about both of our experiences, and were able to cry together and laugh together over all that these pregnancies have brought into our lives. We shopped for her little Nugget, and we found some great maternity clothes for her. I was so proud of myself for keeping my emotions in check, and was definitely sad to see her go yesterday.

Today I woke up to Mother Nature's more-than-clear (thankyouverymuch) sign that I am not pregnant. We left this morning to start our day-of-fun, and started with the license branch. After our short visit there, I told Matt that I needed to run back home to get some "supplies" for my present physical condition. He decided to balance the checkbook while I took care of my business. He quickly came to the conclusion that we should probably just stay home today. Our finances are tight. I've spend three months indulging in retail therapy, and it's quickly catching up with us. It had to happen sooner or later, right? Someday I was actually going to have to face my life instead of run from it.

We have plenty of things here to keep us entertained: video games, board games, books, DVD's, etc. We could even work on the house or take a walk (it's a beautiful day here). I don't want to do any of it. I keep saying that I'm bored, but I think the truth is that I'm feeling depressed today. I've spent a lot of time avoiding myself these past few months, and now I am running out of places to hide.

I'm not sure what to do now that I've admitted this to myself (and to the rest of you). I thought that writing this down would make me feel a little better, but it hasn't. Maybe all we can do is pray...

Almost Paradise...

Today would have been my Grandpa Chet’s 85^th birthday. He’s been gone for 22 years now, yet sadness still seems to wash over me when I think about him. I was young when he passed, but I remember loving every minute I got to spend with him.

The song “Almost Paradise” from Footloose always reminds me of Grandpa. He once told my mom that it was the only “rock” song he ever liked! As I was listening to music during my long commute this morning, “Almost Paradise” came around on the iPod. I immediately remembered that today was Grandpa’s birthday, and wanted to spend some time remembering him...

• I remember spending the night with Grandma Alice and Grandpa Chet. They had a huge bed! My parents only had a double bed, so it was a special treat to spend the night with Grandma and Grandpa and get to sleep in the “Super Bed!” I think it was a king bed…it felt like it took up the entire room! I remember what the house smelled like as we got up in the morning and started getting ready. It was the perfect combination of a fresh shower, toothpaste and brewing coffee. Their house was right near a Dunkin Donuts, and I remember Grandpa bringing home blueberry cake donuts for us.
• I remember watching game shows like The Price is Right and Wheel of Fortune with my Grandparents. I seem to remember Grandpa especially liking Wheel of Fortune…I think he had a thing for Vanna White!
• Grandma and Grandpa used to have these chairs at their dining room table that were brown leather, no armrests, and they SPUN! I would love sitting in those chairs, and having Grandpa spin me around and around and around!
• I think Grandpa really loved sweets, because he was always spoiling us with cookies and candy! Those Keebler fudge covered cookies always remind me of him.
  
• Grandpa was a car salesman – Oldsmobiles for as long as I could remember, although I’m sure he sold others earlier in his life. I remember visiting his dealership, and getting Chicklets out of the gum machine!
• Grandpa ALWAYS had a camera! I remember him with his camcorder and Polaroid. We loved that Polaroid – we couldn’t wait to shake those pictures! He must have loved his family so much to want to capture us all on film all the time.
• I remember going shopping with him one day. I think we were at the mall, because I remember the store we were in as a department store. I found a sweater that I really liked, and he bought it for me. I was in 1^st grade when he died, and I kept that sweater until I was at least in 5^th grade. I couldn’t bear to get rid of it. He was such a generous man.
• I remember the day that he died. I was home with Dad, and Kelly and Robert (who were 4 and 1) were playing in Robert's playpen. I answered the phone when it rang, and sensed immediately that something was wrong. Mom was on the other end of the line asking for Dad. I remember refusing to let her talk to him until she told me what was wrong. I cried and cried when she finally told me, and I remember feeling upset with Kelly because she didn't seem to notice that I was crying.
  

We all miss Grandpa. We talk about him often at family gatherings. There is a portrait of him in my Grandma’s house that looks over us all as we celebrate Christmas and birthdays. He has been gone for a long time, and I am sad that so many of my younger cousins never got to be with him. It occurs to me now, though, that Grandpa still lives on with us…through us. My mother has his jubilant spirit and dedicated work ethic. My aunts Gwen and Gayle have his generosity. My uncle Dan has his quick, infectious smile, and my aunts Janice and Janine have his fun-loving attitude. Grandpa may be gone, but he is definitely not forgotten.

Some of my family members read this blog. If you’re here today, please take a minute to share some of your favorite Chet memories! Let’s remember him today…

My apologies...

I have been gone for quite some time. I apologize for keeping you all waiting. I'm actually fairly certain there aren't many of you left to read what I'm writing now! It's been a rough few months for us. If you haven't heard, you can read all about it here. I am going to try to get this blog going again now. Seems like when things fall apart, my writing is the last piece to be picked up. Hope you all stick around!

Leaving on a jet plane...

Tomorrow morning I will be leaving for Atlanta for a week-long class at Candler Seminary. I'm a member of PAUMCS - the Professional Association of United Methodist Church Secretaries - and this class is a certification institute. I'm not entirely sure what we will be learning, but MONTHS ago (when I signed up) I was sure I wanted to do it. Granted, I didn't know then that I would be a pregnant, tired, nauseous mess now, but I still want to participate in the class.

I hate to fly. I know the statistics say that I'm safer in the air than I am on the ground, but I still don't like to fly. Gravity and I have an understanding. I am a large woman, and as such, gravity makes sure that I am as close to the ground as possible at all times. Defying this arrangement seems unnatural, thus filling any time I spend on a plane with anxiety. Also - I had a really rough flight on the way to New Orleans earlier this year - one in which I was SURE the plane was going down, and I spent the better part of the flight clinging to my sister in fright and praying incoherently out loud - so flying REALLY doesn't sit well with me right now. Then take into account the fact that I am pregnant, and this has somehow created an anxious beast inside what was already an anxious beast, and well...you get the picture. Tomorrow will be hell.

I hate being away from Matt - especially now that I am having this baby. I will miss him terribly, and will count down the days until Saturday when he pics me up at the airport in Indy. I'm nervous about having to be alert all day every day for 6 days straight. I've been so tired and sick lately, that I've been spending a lot of time in bed. This week will definitely be hard! I'm just hoping to get some good shopping in, learn a lot in class, and make some good friends with my other classmates.

Okay - I have to pack now. We'll see if I get time to blog in ATL. :)

The Swisher Factory...

The Swisher Factory is open for business!

http://swisherfactory.blogspot.com/

Tonight in Hillsboro...

Tonight in a tiny town called Hillsboro...

-As I complained about swollen ankles and an empty stomach, she succumbed to the cancer that ravaged her young body.

-As I mindlessly thought ahead to tomorrow night's plans with my mother, sister and grandmother, her children and siblings were struggling to imagine what life would be like tomorrow without her.

-As I watched the clock in anticipation of going home to snuggle in bed with my husband, her husband was kissing the love of his life goodbye.

I'm so sad tonight at the death of one of our church members. Certainly to us it seems as though her life was much too short. Our feeble minds try unsuccessfully to understand the purpose and meaning behind such a cruel death. I am trying to remember that death is really just another part of life. I am not naive enough to think that any one of us is lucky enough, rich enough or strong enough to cheat death, so why is it still so hard to lose the people we love? Perhaps it reminds us of all that we have yet to do and say. It reminds us of wrongs that we have yet to right - or rights we want to right again.

Being in ministry during times like these always seems hard. I watch as Matt walks along side these friends of ours, and see how much it affects him. He may not have the overflow of emotions like I do, but the pain he experiences with these families is plain to see.

We must have faith, though, that God is true to His word; that He works in all things for GOOD. It's not good that this friend is gone, but we KNOW that God will work in this situation for GOOD. He always does - and we know that He will continue to do so. I am thankful tonight that this woman knows the lord, and that tonight she is with him in paradise. For Christians, death is always a sad thing, but we rejoice in the fact that this is NOT THE END. There is something more - something better - waiting for us.

I am mourning for this family tonight friends. My heart breaks for them....


And I'll praise you in this storm
and I will lift my hands
for You are who You are
no matter where I am
and every tear I've cried
You hold in your hand
You never left my side
and though my heart is torn
I will praise You in this storm
-Casting Crowns

Cream Cheese Stuffed French Toast with Powdered Sugar and Strawberries

Apparently this is a big hit, so I'm putting down the recipe for you all to have and enjoy. Just be forewarned: I don't usually cook from a recipe, so these measurements are approximate. Feel free to put your own spin on it! The name is really misleading, because I technically didn't stuff anything. It's more like a French Toast Sandwich, but whatever...

Here's what you'll need:
8 slices Texas Toast (or another thickly sliced bread)
4 large eggs
2-3 tablespoons of milk (although, I was out of milk, so I used coffee creamer!)
1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon
1 brick cream cheese - room temperature (you can put it in the microwave on defrost for a few minutes to soften it up if you don't want to wait)
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon powdered sugar
1-2 cups cut strawberries - depending on your taste

Crack the eggs into a bowl that is big enough to dip your bread into. Beat the eggs with a wire whisk, add milk and cinnamon, and beat some more. Dip your bread into the egg mixture, making sure to coat both sides of the bread. Lay the bread on a griddle that has been heated over medium-high heat (make sure you spray your pan with cooking spray!). Keep an eye on your bread, and flip the slices as they become golden brown. Burnt toast isn't as good (and it makes your smoke alarm pretty upset too).

In another bowl (or your stand mixer if you have one) mix the cream cheese and sugar together until the mixture comes to a nice, smooth consistency. I love my stand mixer for this, but if you don't have one, just be patient - it will come together before you know it.

Once your toast is done, take two slices and spread the cream cheese mixture between them - like you're making a peanut butter sandwich. I like a lot of the cream cheese on mine, so I used probably around 2 tablespoons for each sandwich. You use what you like. Sprinkle the powdered sugar over the french toast, and top with strawberries.

This would be really good with blueberries, raspberries or cherries too! You don't really need syrup on this, but if you want to add that, it's up to you. Ooooh...it might be yummy to try adding cocoa into the cream cheese mixture, making a chocolate cream cheese french toast....I'll have to try that one next time!