**

Prayer Request:

A BLM friend of mine lost her first baby to cancer. Now she lost her rainbow baby at 7 months gestation. I don't think any of you would know her, as she doesn't really blog, but I am going to respect her privacy by not saying too much that might identify her and just ask that you all please remember her in your prayers. She is really, REALLY hurting. The injustice at the fact that this wonderful mother should have to face so much pain and loss in her quest to build a family, when monsters like Casey Anthony... well... you can finish that sentence yourself...thinking about it is just too much.

If you could send her healing thoughts/prayers I'd appreciate it.

 **

**Possible trigger post - talks about living children.**

I need some mom advice...

I haven't slept in nine days.

Okay, that's a lie.

If I hadn't slept at all in nine days I would probably be dead, or at the very least making a fool of myself hallucinating in the streets, but the truth is I haven't slept more than about 1.5 hours at a time in NINE days, and it's starting to get to me!

I don't know what's going on here.

It started as a growth spurt. Both babies came home from our 4th of July vacation (where they happily slept through the night as usual with the exception of their one overnight feed) and were eating, eating, eating (read: K nursing say from 1-4AM, H then waking hungry and nursing from 4-5, Then K waking hungry again around 7:30, and on and on.)

About three days into being back home I started feeling miserable, and thoughts of quitting breastfeeding swirled around in my exhausted mind. It dawned on me that the last time I had felt this miserable about breastfeeding was during a growth spurt around 15 weeks, so I decided that we must have hit another one.

I mean it HAD to be that, right?

Now, I'm not so sure...

After a few days, H decided she had had enough of the cluster feeding, and went back to her regular routine of eating before bed, 0-1 times overnight, and then in the morning. K, on the other hand, has gotten into this funny place where now he only wants me AND will only sleep if I am nursing him. He is suddenly a light sleeper too, so if I move he wakes up, gets mad, and we have to start the whole rock nurse lay down rock nurse lay down nurse rock nurse nurse nurse routine all over again.

Poor hubs tries to help, he really does, but its no use. K screams at him, and only calms down for me, which makes hubs wonder what the use is in even trying since nothing he does seems to console K. It's gotten to the point where K won't even take a bottle of expressed milk anymore, he just screams and screams until I nurse him... again!

I am using the term "nurse" lightly, because half the time he isn't eating at all, just, sort of, "hanging out." Sometimes he pops off and then relatches an inch or so off and it's a struggle to get him off and relatched properly so I end up with these just awful looking hickey bruises. He also has taken to grabbing whatever boob, or bit of bare skin he can, and pinching or pulling. Not so fun since I am also dealing with thrush.

I guess last night hubs could really pick up on my frustration/exhaustion, because I woke up to this note:

Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have such an understanding husband?

So tell me mommas... what do you think is going on here?

Teething?
Just the age (19 weeks?)
Typical Momma's Boy?
Time to start solids?

I'm at a loss...

** 

Now onto some good news! I am really excited/humbled/honored/stoked/etc etc to learn that my little ole blog here has been nominated for Babble's Top 50 Mom Blogs. It would mean A LOT to me if you all would take a moment to vote for my blog by clicking here. If you sort by popularity I should be on about page 3. If you sort alphabetically I fall around page 13. You can vote for as many bloggers as you'd like. I did. Some of my favorites are also on the list :)

**

Has your Rainbow hit a milestone this week?

Starred in a cute video?

Done something adorable? Funny? Downright embarrassing?

If you answered "yes" to any of the above questions, 

than you have come to the right place!

Welcome to the Friday Rainbow Baby Blog Rodeo, a place to celebrate the amazing children who have come into our lives after loss, and to strengthen our bond as a community of Rainbow parents.

Every Friday we can gather here to share our little ones' triumphs, brag like the proud parents that we are, and yes ... even own up to our epic fails in parenting (all in good fun of course) via links to our own blogs with posts about any and everything Rainbow from the week.

Feel free to grab the button from the sidebar and help spread the word. Let's bring this Rainbow parenting community together.

I will go first...

We had lots of fun keeping cool in this heat wave by getting our exercise indoors.


We worked on sitting up in the Bumbo...

Two Peas In A Pod

Practiced our tummy time...

and laying on our backs kick - kick - kicking...

and jump jump jumped in the jump n go and jumperoo...

That's what we have been up to this week...

So, tell me, what have your rainbows been up to?


To join in the fun, write a post on your own blog about what your Rainbow(s) has been up to this week, and then add the link to that post in the Linky widget below. 


Thanks for riding along on the rodeo!

**

Prayer Request:

A BLM friend of mine lost her first baby to cancer. Now she lost her rainbow baby at 7 months gestation. I don't think any of you would know her, as she doesn't really blog, but I am going to respect her privacy by not saying too much that might identify her and just ask that you all please remember her in your prayers. She is really, REALLY hurting. The injustice at the fact that this wonderful mother should have to face so much pain and loss in her quest to build a family, when monsters like Casey Anthony... well... you can finish that sentence yourself...thinking about it is just too much.

If you could send her healing thoughts/prayers I'd appreciate it.

 **

**Possible trigger post - talks about living children.**

I need some mom advice...

I haven't slept in nine days.

Okay, that's a lie.

If I hadn't slept at all in nine days I would probably be dead, or at the very least making a fool of myself hallucinating in the streets, but the truth is I haven't slept more than about 1.5 hours at a time in NINE days, and it's starting to get to me!

I don't know what's going on here.

It started as a growth spurt. Both babies came home from our 4th of July vacation (where they happily slept through the night as usual with the exception of their one overnight feed) and were eating, eating, eating (read: K nursing say from 1-4AM, H then waking hungry and nursing from 4-5, Then K waking hungry again around 7:30, and on and on.)

About three days into being back home I started feeling miserable, and thoughts of quitting breastfeeding swirled around in my exhausted mind. It dawned on me that the last time I had felt this miserable about breastfeeding was during a growth spurt around 15 weeks, so I decided that we must have hit another one.

I mean it HAD to be that, right?

Now, I'm not so sure...

After a few days, H decided she had had enough of the cluster feeding, and went back to her regular routine of eating before bed, 0-1 times overnight, and then in the morning. K, on the other hand, has gotten into this funny place where now he only wants me AND will only sleep if I am nursing him. He is suddenly a light sleeper too, so if I move he wakes up, gets mad, and we have to start the whole rock nurse lay down rock nurse lay down nurse rock nurse nurse nurse routine all over again.

Poor hubs tries to help, he really does, but its no use. K screams at him, and only calms down for me, which makes hubs wonder what the use is in even trying since nothing he does seems to console K. It's gotten to the point where K won't even take a bottle of expressed milk anymore, he just screams and screams until I nurse him... again!

I am using the term "nurse" lightly, because half the time he isn't eating at all, just, sort of, "hanging out." Sometimes he pops off and then relatches an inch or so off and it's a struggle to get him off and relatched properly so I end up with these just awful looking hickey bruises. He also has taken to grabbing whatever boob, or bit of bare skin he can, and pinching or pulling. Not so fun since I am also dealing with thrush.

I guess last night hubs could really pick up on my frustration/exhaustion, because I woke up to this note:

Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have such an understanding husband?

So tell me mommas... what do you think is going on here?

Teething?
Just the age (19 weeks?)
Typical Momma's Boy?
Time to start solids?

I'm at a loss...

** 

Now onto some good news! I am really excited/humbled/honored/stoked/etc etc to learn that my little ole blog here has been nominated for Babble's Top 50 Mom Blogs. It would mean A LOT to me if you all would take a moment to vote for my blog by clicking here. If you sort by popularity I should be on about page 3. If you sort alphabetically I fall around page 13. You can vote for as many bloggers as you'd like. I did. Some of my favorites are also on the list :)

**

Has your Rainbow hit a milestone this week?

Starred in a cute video?

Done something adorable? Funny? Downright embarrassing?

If you answered "yes" to any of the above questions, 

than you have come to the right place!

Welcome to the Friday Rainbow Baby Blog Rodeo, a place to celebrate the amazing children who have come into our lives after loss, and to strengthen our bond as a community of Rainbow parents.

Every Friday we can gather here to share our little ones' triumphs, brag like the proud parents that we are, and yes ... even own up to our epic fails in parenting (all in good fun of course) via links to our own blogs with posts about any and everything Rainbow from the week.

Feel free to grab the button from the sidebar and help spread the word. Let's bring this Rainbow parenting community together.

I will go first...

We had lots of fun keeping cool in this heat wave by getting our exercise indoors.


We worked on sitting up in the Bumbo...

Two Peas In A Pod

Practiced our tummy time...

and laying on our backs kick - kick - kicking...

and jump jump jumped in the jump n go and jumperoo...

That's what we have been up to this week...

So, tell me, what have your rainbows been up to?


To join in the fun, write a post on your own blog about what your Rainbow(s) has been up to this week, and then add the link to that post in the Linky widget below. 


Thanks for riding along on the rodeo!

"As long as I can I will look at this world for both of us. As long as I can I will laugh with the birds, I will sing with the flowers, I will pray to the stars, for both of us." ~Sascha


It's been just over a thousand days since Peyton left this world. 
Just over a thousand days since I held her in my arms that last time as the sun broke through the clouds, and cast white light across her small body. 
It's been just over a thousand days... 
God I miss her.


I spent the better part of the first year without Peyton being furious. 
At God mostly. 
It hit me tonight, as I looked at my two beautiful blessings, that it may be time to start working on toning down that fury
It may be time to start feeling Thankful rather than Spiteful when I think of Him.
It may be time, but that is a post for another day.


In that first year after Peyton's death I saw very little hope in the future and no joy in the day to day. Even to think about feeling joy felt like some sort of betrayal, and yet when people tried to remind me that living was not a betrayal, I hated them for it. 


People would see me spending all day every day at her grave that first year, and they would say, "Peyton wouldn't want to see you like this" and I would think, "what the hell do you know anyway? Was your child born unexpectedly with cancer? Did your child die in your arms? Do you live with the aching arms? And the nightmares? And the daytime ones?"


I was hurting. 
Everything was darkness. 
Telling me that I was disappointing Peyton in my grieving just added to my fury. 
To my fury, and to my guilt.


In that first year people told me I would survive.
They were right.
I did.
Every second of every minute was agony, but somehow, some way, I came through it, even if only by the skin of my teeth.


The second year without Peyton I lived on Pause. 
Every day was Groundhog's day. 
The sun rose.
My child was dead. 
The sun set. 
My child was dead. 
Families around us grew.
My child was dead.
Children conceived after Peyton died had now outlived her, and yet, my child was still dead.


It is still hard for me to believe, sometimes, that I no longer live in that long gray fog that consumed the second year. At that time the world around me seemed to be moving at lightning speed, while our world, our tiny little corner of the universe, sat immobile - seemingly stuck on its axis unable to turn towards the sun.


And then, just like that, one day it did.


One day there was forward momentum, a feeling that had become so foreign a concept to me that I didn't know what to do with it.


In that moment we were afforded a new lease on life, and the blessing that this is has not been lost on me. 


Peyton's third birthday is just a few mere months away, and I feel something shifting in me once again. For the first time, in a very long time, maybe ever, I find myself thinking of Peyton and smiling. 
Not all the time of course, many memories of her still stir feelings of being robbed, scared, and heartbroken, but every once in a while an image of that little girl - so tiny, so brave - pops into my mind and I can see her lifting her sweet, perfectly round little head up off of my chest when we did skin to skin, and the corners of my lips turn upward in gratitude.


Yes, you read that right. Gratitude.


Peyton did something no one else in this world can ever undo. 
She made me a mother, and through the aching, I can't help but to feel grateful for that. 


She came into this broken world, loved me with a pure heart, and left so many gifts for me that I am still discovering them day by day.


Some have been easy to see - the friendships I have made within the BLM community. The connection I have been able to feel with my writing. The deep sense of empathy I feel for those who are hurting - and others have taken more time to fully grasp - like realizing how important it is to truly appreciate each and every day.


Even the tough days, because a tough day is just another chance to overcome something difficult, and discover something beautiful in its wake. 


That little girl has enriched my world. 
She has made colors crisper.
Experiences richer.
Meanings deeper.


Because of Peyton I appreciate what a gift it is to wake up each morning.
Because of Peyton I can feel the wind on my cheek and know that somewhere, somehow, in some way that I am too human to understand, we are sharing that moment.
Because of Peyton I truly, TRULY, know how lucky I am to be a mother.
I know what a gift it is to be exhausted from a sleepless night with the babies.
I know not to take for granted any moments with my children, even the challenging ones like those that I have faced in breastfeeding the twins.


That's not to say I don't ever moan or groan or feel sorry for myself about this or that, because I do, I am human, but usually, a beat or two behind whatever gripe I may be airing, I stop, think of that little girl and all that she has taught me, and that quickly puts things back into perspective.


Maybe everyone goes through this? 
Maybe this, this feeling that I owe it to Peyton to live the life she wasn't afforded, is just another stage of grieving.
I don't know.


What I do know is that she can't laugh, so I feel that I owe it to her to fill my life with laughter
She can't have a family of her own, so I owe it to her to love mine with all of my heart.
She can't chase her dreams, so I owe it to her to never stop believing in mine.


As the poet Sascha says, I owe it to Peyton to do all these things "for the both of us."


I miss my daughter.
Nothing will ever, nothing can ever, change that.


I still have days where the tears come calling, but something inside of me is shifting.


I am coming to see that honoring Peyton is not equivalent to spending all of my life longing only for what I can never have.


I am coming to see that it honors her memory more to embrace and rejoice in all that I do.

****

This post is part of the StillLife With Circle's Right Where I Am Project. I'm about a month late to the party, but hey, better late than never.

****