Blog Feed – Page 60 – making unbreakable

beauty and the blog.

I’ve been trying to form words to describe how I’ve been feeling for awhile now. I have a lot to say about a lot of different things, but they haven’t come to me. They sit jumbled up in a pile, like those word magnets that were all the rage several years ago. Words that mean a lot to me stand out here and there but none make coherent sense for anyone who wanted to listen. I just opened my computer to try and form words when this tweet showed up.

I’m not sure what she was referencing in her life, but it’s exactly how I feel.

There are women out there who make things beautiful, even sad, ugly things. I aspire to be like them. And I’ve slowly been trying to write them thank you letters for always being a sunny patch on the proverbial lawn of life. They rarely get worked into all caps fits and rages and you always leave their presence feeling a little lighter. You want to have them over for sleepovers, you want to watch how they do life and you want to imitate it. Anyone one they touch with either words or deeds walks away a better person…a happier person.

My Ami is one of these people. So are Sarah, Steph, Ari, Heather and Rachel just to name a few.

My friend Jessica told me that when she was pregnant she became very aware and protective of herself and who or what she allowed around her. I find that to be true with me. My favorite place to be is at home with people I love. Ugliness hurts a lot more, even if it isn’t directed towards me.

Why be ugly? Why start, or even worse perpetuate, ugly? Who does it benefit? No one. Why wouldn’t people want attention for being a nice person that makes everything prettier instead of the attention that comes from being chronically mean? A lot of you agreed with me that everybody pretty much hates everything and that it wasn’t just me noticing an overwhelming amount of grumpiness out there.

I was going to post a picture of my swelling belly. But over Thanksgiving Addie became obsessed with becoming a reporter and made videos on my camera and in the process deleted all the photos I had taken. Anyone knows that one of the best reasons to have kids around is the drawings they produce. So I put her to work. Here I am, 17 weeks pregnant, gallivanting with Rudolph and attempting to make up for lost time with lots of lipstick. The Crayola markers were all personally color matched for this fine portrait.

The next picture really has nothing to do with anything. While we were waiting at the doctor’s office Addie drew a picture of her dad wearing her pink Hello Kitty underpants. Hairy chest and all.

She then proceeded to draw a picture of herself wearing the same pink Hello Kitty underpants, only she was very sad because he had stretched them so badly.

I was interviewed for the Indy Star (side note, seeing your face staring back at you from the newspaper with your name in 50 pt font? Weird.) and at the end the interviewer asked me where I wanted to be in five years. The truth is I want to be right here. With my family. Together. Safe. Happy. Leaving little pretty bits around…leaving people better than I found them and things better than anyone knew they could be.

You?

the second time around.

Living with the barfing is much easier the second time around.

The anxiety of ‘ZOMG I’M GOING TO BE SOMEBODY’S MOTHER‘ is easier the second time around.

Figuring out what baby crap is actually necessary and what is just crap is also easier the second time around.

However no one told me that just existing the second time around would be so. much. more. uncomfortable.

Maybe everyone thought since my babies will be almost seven years apart it wasn’t worth mentioning? But y’all. Ow. My hips. My back. My stomach. THOSE ROUND LIGAMENT THINGS…I have officially downgraded them from ligaments to useless. I have a feeling Addie’s Silly Bandz could do a better job at holding my growing uterus up.

Addie and I have taken to playing Just Dance 2 on the Wii daily. Oh man, when I am not pregnant? I am going to OWN that game. But while I am pregnant? Peeing my underpants is a very real possibility. That and me waddling like an old person a few hours later.

I was just warned on facebook that it gets even worse the third time around. Which is why there won’t be a third time. Between the pain thing, the fact that I stink at getting pregnant in a timely manner and what happened in the frozen food section eight weeks ago I’m just not sure my spirit could handle this again. Oh, and my face. Remember when I wrote about petichiae? The capillaries that burst in my face when I barf? Well, here’s an update.

Oh it makes me so sad.

See how lovely my neck is? Oh.

It’s really hard to look at.

But I know I’m still under there.

And I know Mozzi is only days away from letting me know he or she is in there with little bubbles and pokes. I’m very excited about that.

I’m also very, very excited to hold a tiny baby. My tiny baby. I never felt this same excitement with Addie. This will probably sound strange, but I haven’t been able to or wanted to hold other babies for a long time. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold any tiny babies until it is mine.

Maybe it’s a self preservation thing.

I mean, every month feels like an eternity when you’re trying to get pregnant. I made it through over fifty eternities in the past six years and those fifty eternities will be resolved in less than 24 weeks.

It’s a lot to handle the second time around.

the one about all the stuff I forgot.

First doctor’s appointment down!

(Hi Daddy! I’m about to talk about my cervix! I hear there’s a good show about ice on the Discovery Channel! You should probably go there…xo-doodlebug.)

You know what I forgot? How much is involved with OB appointments. First of all there’s the needles, where they take enough blood I’m absolutely sure they can tell what I had for lunch last week. Then there’s the questions. BREASTFEEDING? EPIDURALS? GENETIC TESTING? PRENATALS? COSLEEPING? PEDIATRICIANS? TOP THREE COLLEGE CHOICES? And then there’s the peeing in the cup thing. Maybe people who have babies a little closer together don’t lose the “pee in the cup without peeing on your hand” skill, but I my friends have lost it. I give myself three appointments before I have that one down again. I was also surprised with a pap at my first appointment. A) I have a tilted cervix which requires more…prodding…to get to it. B) I have had so many medical professionals up in my cervical area that I can feel it suck up into my throat at the thought of it being explored. The doctor who handled my pap said I had “the most battle weary cervix” she had ever seen.

Aww, that comment kind of make me want to buy my cervix a cupcake or something. But that seemed as though it would bring on some kind of infection. So I just whined about it to Cody instead.

My ultrasound is on December 10th, 4 days before Addie’s 6th birthday. And if it’s possible to find out what’s inside me? YOU BETTER BELIEVE I’M FINDING OUT. If there was ever a time to throw modesty to the wind Mozzi, December 10th is the day.

Supposedly I look pregnant. I don’t feel like I do. I just feel like I ate too many popsicles and haven’t pooped nearly enough. Both of which are probably actually not too far off from the truth. I honestly have no recollection of being hugely pregnant with Addie. I know there’s pictures and evidence, but for the life of me I do not remember what it feels like.

If I’m being honest, it looks uncomfortable, but I vividly remember enjoying it very, very much. Oy. I can’t wait to find out what else I’ve forgotten about.

I want to ask you what you forgot about in subsequent pregnancies. But I’m afraid of your answers. So let’s talk about your favorite stretchy pants instead, because those ones that are pictured above are still with me six years later. They’ve got holes and paint stains and frayed edges. BUT I LOVE THEM.

the one where we hang out with touchdown Jesus.

Dear Notre Dame,

I’ll admit that I was picturing your campus to be far more Hogwarts-y and far less…college campus. I blame Disney for some reason. Regardless, it was pretty. Nice and old and well maintained.

A lot of your fans commented on how many Utah fans were there. We were surprised too. One guy even said he was tempted to go to Utah and steal everything since it seemed like every Utahn was in South Bend. I assured him there were plenty of BYU fans hanging around Utah and they wouldn’t let them steal anything without first trying to convert him to the gospel. (BYU JOKES NEVER GET OLD!)

Lots of traditions at your school, it’s impressive. I even stood in line for 45 minutes for a supposed legendary steak sandwich. It was pretty good. The money went to charity, so that knocked it up a few notches. Also? Notre Dame fans are kind of like BYU fans that drink. I’m pretty sure the entire liquor store inventory was in the tailgate lot.

Sure, there were a lot of Utah fans. But once we got inside the stadium and realized our tickets weren’t in the Utah section? There weren’t many Utah fans. At all. And Notre Dame fans have a whole strength in numbers thing. They were really nice. Until y’all started gently roasting our team. By the time you had kicked our proverbial butts…you got really cocky. It’s cool. I’d like to assume your cockiness came from regard for how awesome we are (well, were.) TCU kind of did us in last week. We may never be the same. You know who else will never be the same? Cody. He’s a sad, sad guy.

We haven’t been to a game where Utah had lost since 2003. It hurt. Not going to lie. But seeing how excited you were after winning? It was kind of cute. You rushed the field like you had just won a championship game. But really you had just won the fifth game of your season. Bringing your win/loss percentage to 50%. But yay for your celebration! YAY FOR YOU!

Thanks for accommodating us, and only making minimal jabs and jokes at our dismal loss. As a Utah transplant to Indiana? I totally get how a bunch of high mountain desert dwellers can choke when placed in dismal rainy Indiana weather. I didn’t dry out from three hours in the cold rain until this morning. And I was wearing a plastic bag the whole time.

See you next time, that is if Cody ever recovers.

xo, Casey

everyone is damaged.

This photo was taken in San Francisco over two years ago.

So much has changed since this moment.

Three and a half babies have been added, one has been taken away.

All of us have been hurt and damaged in so many different ways since that night, and when I think about just how much…

I’d rather not think about it.

Sure, we “know” each other on the Internet. We know that she lost a baby, she lost a child, she lost a pregnancy, she lost a best friend, she lost a sister, she lost a husband, he lost a wife, her dad may die any day and that she just received a diagnosis of cancer. For the most part we handle each other with kid gloves. But all these “shes” that live in your computer also have real lives. They are the frustrated mom at the mall, the grumpy lady in the checkout line at the grocery store, the impatient woman at the pediatricians office, the jerk that cuts you off in traffic.

It’s funny that we can see and accept the scars and the wounds of our virtual friends online but sometimes in real life we are unable to give the people around us the benefit of the doubt.

If five people in one picture who were practically strangers two years ago have had so much happen to them since the photo was taken?

It’s safe to say every single person out there is nursing some sort of wound. Be it fresh, freshly healed or a deep painful scar.

I wish we could all act in a way that nurtured the broken hearts around us instead of assuming that most hearts are cold and hard.

Please take better care of each other. We are all so much more alike than we are different.

happy birthday emily.

Today is Emily’s birthday.

Seeing as she’s the best gift the Internet ever gave me (that is until the Internet bestows a Dyson upon me, which has yet to happen, but trust me, Emily will understand when it happens) you all get to gag on the lovey dovey sentiments I’m about to throw out.

Our friendship was solidified when she said “I even avoid looking at certain shirts when I’m shopping because I know I’ll just pit right through them.”

We went bowling on our first date. Our latest date was at my house with a dozen other women dancing in front of my TV. We’ve been to concerts (Yanni!), museums, fancy parties and I’ve only come close to killing her once (okay, twice…) I’ve been to the house where she grew up, had Thanksgiving with her and she was the first person to know I was pregnant. We’ve danced on bars, eaten in Little Italy, gotten lost in cabs, stuck on busses and had incriminating photos taken. We’ve been to Michigan, New York, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee and Illinois. I was there when she held her third baby for the first time. I was also there when her third baby took his first steps last week. We share a mutual love for etsy, the Indiana State fair and salty Italian meats. Our girls are the best of friends (well, as much as three little girls with opinions can be.)

(with the equally lovely Kim…birthday forthcoming in January…)

(posting this photo may end our friendship. but OH HOW IT MAKES ME LAUGH.)

(photo by Rachel)

(mocking aforementioned friendship ending photo.)

I would have never found her if it weren’t for this little thing we do.

Em? I love you so much it’s ridiculous. Happy birthday.

I hope you realize how beautiful you are inside, outside and all around. Forever and ever.

Indianapolis would never be the same for me without you.

I’m totally your biggest fan.

(Birthday wishes on the twitter here, at her blog here, or below.)

six tricks later. treats.

2005. We lived in Utah (in fact we lived with my mom) Cody was still in undergrad, Addie was 10 months old.

Her first Halloween costume was an overpriced Tom Arma Skunk. It was totally worth it.

Six Halloweens later. We live in our first house in Indiana, Cody is a lawyer. I’m pregnant with our second baby and Addie is in Kindergarten.

This crap goes fast.

lots of other stuff I did (or will be doing) other places.

This blogging stuff is feast or famine, yo.

1. I won the Tempurpedic bed from Fadra! (holeeee crap! SLEEPOVER AT MY HOUSE!!)

2. I’m giving away a Seagate GoFlex portable hard drive, enter to win! (Or lose all your photos in a tragic computer accident, your choice.)

3. I can’t get enough of Pledge cleaner. On my list of brand loyal products? Pledge is there.

4. I. AM. INSURED. (thanks to a little program from Obama known as the Pre-Existing Condition Insurance Plan. Do you have any idea how much easier it is to breathe?)

5. It’s November, which is when I talk turkey and you learn to cook turkey with the greatest of ease from my buddies and me over at the Butterball Blog.

6. I’m a guest on Christine Koh’s Life.Style show today at 1pm EST where I will be talking photography with Karen Walrond and Tracey Clark. Yeah, had you told me I’d ever be included in on a list with those two? I would told you lying is mean and that you had lost your mind.

7. Yes. Those are my real eyelashes. Currently (as in, in this photo) I’m using Lash Stiletto Mascara (it was free) but my most favorite kind is Stila Major Lash mascara. (There is also a Major MAJOR lash version too, I’m loyal to the singular major kind.)

an open letter to mozzi, no. 1

Dear Moz,

Look, I realize we haven’t gotten off to the best start. There was the whole barf my brains out thing which is never a good way to start any relationship, then there were the boobs of fury that didn’t let me do much of anything but lie around and keep them as still as possible. We’ve moved into the “I miss pooping” part of the relationship but today Mozzi, today is what I need to talk to you about.

Today I took you and your sister in to see a friend about a doppler. We tried to find you 7 weeks ago to no avail, but given the large amounts of vomit emanating from me, I took it as a pretty good sign that you were holding strong. However now you’re just getting comfortable in your teenage weeks. There’s been times I’ve wondered if you’re around or if you jumped ship and sailed back to the big nursery in the sky, so today we sought you out.

DUDE, let me just say right now that during your sister’s first doppler reading her little heartbeat just hopped right out of those speakers loud and strong and true. You? Must have buried yourself behind my large intestine and covered yourself with a kidney. Those several minutes it took to find your little heartbeat may have well been an eternity. And that you only stuck around to be heard for approximately three nanoseconds? Leads me to believe I am either birthing bigfoot or a very stubborn child.

Then someone on twitter reminded me that I’ll be birthing a Taurus. Which is what I am. Ask your dad, stubborn ranks pretty high on my list of applicable adjectives. YAY! More stubborn in my life! And the fact that you’re so willing to let it show at 15 weeks in utero? I’m already saving pennies for all the things that will be invariably hulk-smashed during your teenage years (by both of us, let’s be honest.)

I know you’re in there Mozzi, and I am now even more convinced that you are a boy. And not to compare you to your sister, but she waved during her first ultrasound and she also came on her due date in less than three pushes…so if you’re also competitive like me, you’ve got some things to think about in there before our first doctor’s appointment next Friday.

Until next time,

Mama.

the one about something (maybe) being wrong.

I think something is wrong.

Logic and the many people surrounding me tell me otherwise.

I am only one entity while the logic and people surrounding me are countless.

Who to believe?

I know who I want to believe, but I also know I’m the only one living in my body.

Logic says I have entered that mythical second trimester where the crippling symptoms of early pregnancy are magically lessened and I can actually begin enjoying myself without the constant need of a bucket and antiemetic drugs.

My body says otherwise. Or is that my brain saying otherwise?

I had this overwhelming feeling a week after my positive pregnancy test (okay, seven positive pregnancy tests) that there were only three ways this pregnancy could end, miscarriage, stillbirth or a baby. All of them come with their own pains and difficulties and there is no way to escape emotionally unscathed.

I have already begun to develop a shell around my heart. I haven’t heard a heartbeat, seen the flickering of life on an ultrasound screen or felt the tiny little bubbles of a baby moving inside of me. There is an odd comfort in this. Maybe I can trick myself into believing it was just the stomach flu and some serious bloat if something does go wrong.

Or maybe this really is that second trimester myth coming true. Maybe there was no need to verbally berate my pregnancy app for asking me if I felt better two weeks ago. Maybe I am going to gain weight this time, maybe my ankles are going to swell and I am going to become the beached whale of pregnancy lore.

If I were to say the previous 276 words out loud right now they would be met with “I’m sure you’re fine, there’s nothing wrong, this is what is supposed to happen.” Chances are I wouldn’t even be able to get past the first 5 words before I was being comforted and cajoled with stories of other pregnancies that ceased with the sickness at 15 weeks and ended babies at 40, as if there’s no need to acknowledge all that can and quite often does go wrong.

I know I’m not alone in these fears and feelings. Whether it’s seeing my friends lose babies they wanted so badly, the residual anxiety of finally becoming pregnant after so long or just plain old worry, I actually have a visceral need to say them out loud without being cut short by optimism.

Don’t get me wrong, I love optimism, but I don’t love keeping my feelings to myself simply because they sound silly, ridiculous or illogical.