Thursday, August 2, 2012


Lately, between my job, house, husband, and new baby boy, I've been pulled in about 1,000 different directions. Switching from diaper changes to lawyer think is an odd transition. I'm exhausted. I'm bone-tired. It's exhilarating.

I welcome it. I was bone tired last year at this time from grieving, from the constant ache of missing my daughter. Having her little brother here has been healing for me in a way I didn't anticipate. Now focusing on both of them, but with him in my arms, I can still ache for her, but it doesn't ache so bad. I don't feel it as strongly.

My son is 10 weeks old today. He has a social security card and a real, live birth certificate. And somehow by the grace of God, he's still alive. I'm astounded by it. I can't help it. Before him, I only knew the sadness of my child that had died, and it seemed as if that was destined to be my reality. Despite the rarity of these situations, I was convinced it would happen again. So far, it hasn't. So far I've changed countless dirty diapers, fed him countless bottles, given him a bath every night, and am always cleaning spit up from my clothes, and I am so so thankful for this.

One of the few items I have from Georgiana is the hospital blanket she was wrapped in. You know, the ones all the hospitals have, with the little multicolored baby footprints on them? Her little blankie has a small spot of urine from her body after she was wrapped up in it. My guess is that maybe only mamas that have lost will understand this, but there was a time when I would have given up my life to make sure nothing happened to that blanket and the little spot on it. It was a tangible reminder of her, that she existed here in bodily form. That little spot of urine connected me to her, and was, and still is, so so precious to me.

I am ecstatically happy to be able to change any diapers for my now living second child. It all gives me great joy, and I'm glad to have this perspective, though will never understand why it came at such a high price.

Tired. Overwhelmed. Grateful.


  1. I completely understand being connected to that spot on her blanket. I sleep with Wiley's blanket every night and it has 2 spots of blood on it. Those spots mean the world to me and I'm very partial to that blanket.

  2. I have a little nightie Eliza wore that has a spot of her blood on it. I keep it in our fireproof box with our legal documents and my grandma's jewelry. So precious to me.

  3. Yes I know about the precious pieces of clothes or blanket that touched our daughter.I am so glad to hear of the joyful type of exhaustion.

  4. I have the same types of things- clothes which were worn and not yet washed... Clothes with vomit, spit up or blood on it. These things are infinitely precious to me and I would still run into a burning building to retrieve them.

    The contrast with changing these urine soaked diapers and washing these clothes and actually *wanting* to get the stains out.. It's crazy.

  5. I completely understand the preciousness of Georgie's blankie. I have some of Caroline's things, like her handprints and a lock of her hair in our fireproof box, too. I also have 2 blankets that she was wrapped in. Unfortunately, I had to wash one of them since it had poo on it. It took me a long time to work up the courage, but I knew that she'd been wrapped in another blanket that had touched her skin, that didn't require washing. So that made it feel (almost) okay to do it.