Our Smiley Face Independence Day 2019

I have been going to the gym this summer and so I started the day with a little Cross-fit action at the gym. Brian and Genevieve went running because she is working on her 100 mile challenge this summer.  At this point, she was almost halfway there!

We drove to Marble Falls to visit friends and family.  Started out at Nanna's house for some haircuts for Drew and Bob, and then we all met friends at a restaurant.

Nanna got herself a new cat, Molly, and she was overwhelmed by our brood, so Genevieve spent the good part of an hour trying to convince her to come out from under the chair.

The fireworks in Marble Falls are done from a boat in the river.  There was a church that hosted a festival and opened their lawn for firework viewing.  We claimed a spot with blankets and chairs, and the kids got sno-cones, jumped in bouncy houses and played games while we waited for the sun to set.

I passed out glow bracelets as the sun set and I reminded all the kids about the game I played as a child with my family during fireworks where we'd try to guess what color would be next.  And as the fireworks started we quickly realized that that game is out of date since they don't just do one firework at a time anymore.  Plus, the fireworks would start one color and change to another color.  Then the littles' minds were totally blown when the fireworks made a star shape, a Saturn shape, and then to top it all off, a smiley face.  You should have heard the gasps.  Somewhere in there Judah, who was in my lap, and I came up with the idea to give the displays names.  Judah had some really good ones like "Rain Cloud," "Dripping Shimmer," and "Buzzing Bees."  I loved listening to his creative, and sometimes funny/sometimes genius names.

Bobby is growing up I guess because he sat captivated in his mini camper chair.  It was a really nice afternoon/evening where I felt we made meaningful memories together.  Hannah only has four years left with us, and that is hard for this mom to accept.

We arrived home at midnight and the oldest four went out with Brian to do their own fireworks display.  The littlest two were carried in and placed in bed already sound asleep after the hour drive.  My heart can't handle watching my children play with fireworks.  I'm a wuss when it comes to fire.

The day was quite busy, but I did find myself thinking of Lillian a few times.  It was nine years ago today that I miscarried, and she would be eight years old now.  I wore my Lily necklace that Brian got me years ago as a nod to my Sweet Pea.

Making Mama's Dream Come True on the Way Home

Well, one of them anyway!  I've wanted to go to Monet's gardens and home in Giverny for a good while.  I naively thought that my kids would think it was cool too, but they cleared that misunderstanding up before we got there.  We've been reading about the history of art all year.  My two art history related, non-museum places in Europe that I wanted to visit were Givery, France and Delft, Holland because there's an alley that is supposed to look the same today as when it was painted by Pieter De Hooch.  They are both quick stops, or should be.

However, we didn't quite get the apartment tidied up and out the door in time to make it at the opening time so the line was rather long.  In fact, we did so poorly on time that it was too close to lunch once we got there to do the gardens first.  This meant we were even later getting in line since we had to eat first.  We had a quick lunch at a hot dog stand and went looking for the entrance.  It was such a small town that we thought we'd find it easily, but we went the wrong way first for a little bit until we saw signs for Monet's grave.  The children were not happy waiting in line in the "hot" sun.  It was about 85 degrees.  That's not that bad, people!

Luckily, I came with my big girl pants on, expecting tired and unhappy kids.  I decided that I was going to enjoy it no matter what the children did.  I'd say that Operation Big Girl Pants was a success.

Hannah has an honest face.  One thing about her is she is real and not ever fake.

Judah had some really big meltdowns because Brian was done carrying him in the backpack and Judah can't seem to take five steps without his legs turning into spaghetti from exhaustion.  That's a long story that nobody wants to hear.  Let's just say that I knew we'd pushed them beyond what they could gracefully handle and it was a chance I couldn't pass up.  I'm making it sound worse than it really was, I'm sure.

I took a picture of this lily because it was one of many that reminded me of my Lillian.  This was the 7th anniversary of my miscarriage.  The fourth of July is always bittersweet for that reason. 

Japanese Bridge with my family on it!

This was a worthwhile stop, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  I bought a Monet tea cup for my collection.  The gardens are so well tended and has some very unique flowers in them as well.

You can walk through his house as well.  My favorite was his kitchen that had blue decorative design on white tiles covering the walls.  I took quite a few pictures of it because I like the idea at least for my final and more permanent home

Monet's bedroom window view!

Brian said that Judah's response to this window was, "Wow!"

The tiles may be hard to make out individually, but as a group you can still see the effect in this photo.

Brian had to take him through the house separately from me since he was crying for me to carry him in the Ergo.  He doesn't give Daddy nearly the trouble he gives me.  By the end he was fine, and who isn't cheered up by a few noisy chickens?

Fourth of July Memory

We have a busy day planned today with swimming lessons and dinner and fireworks with friends, but I just woke up this morning thinking of Lillian and how I can't let this day pass without remembering her.  I was thinking of Speck and how he is now my almost two year old Drew with a chin that kills me and mannerisms that keep us all in stitches, talking and understanding more everyday.  Here I sit with Tad moving all over the place in my belly, and I wonder what he will be like as he grows up like Speck has.  I wonder this knowing I will most likely know the answers soon.  It just still hurts to think of how I will not know what kind of tiny human Lillian would have grown into, what distinguishing features or personality she would have had.  The sharp pain that so many are familiar with, the pain of loss, is only softened by the hope of one day meeting my child in heaven.

Love you, Lillian!  

Lillian Therese

Two years ago, I lost my Sweet Pea.  I will never forget her.  I know she was tiny, so tiny she couldn't even be seen on the ultrasound at 8 weeks.  She died inside me before she was a speck on the screen.  People may look at me, especially people who have never had a miscarriage, and think that because we have been so blessed with these four children that it wasn't as hard or that I would get over it with the distractions of my big family or, more specifically, the distractions of Speck/Drew who came after my loss.  But Sweet Pea is a soul born into Heaven instead of this Earth and no amount of children I may have or time can ever make me get over it.  You don't "get over" miscarriages any more than you "get over" the death of a loved one who walked the earth.  However, you do learn to live with it.  You learn to wake up and go about your day, and when you remember her, your breath catches and your stomach tightens and your heart aches.  Sometimes you smile.  Sometimes you squeeze back tears, and then there are times when you let those tears come.

Having lost my Aunt Cindy this year, I would say that the biggest difference between losing your unborn baby and someone you loved for such a long time is the amount of things that remind you of them.  Everything reminds me of my Aunt Cindy.  Silly things like doing laundry because she helped me get stains out of my kid's clothes, really moist brownies because she and my uncle brought some over after Drew was born, gnats swarming my face because she was the one who introduced me to the "Virginia wave."  Like I said...everything.  But my Sweet Pea, not so much, at least not anymore.  At first there were the physical reminders and the plans we had made that all had to change, the room that was already dubbed "the baby's room" in our brand new house.  But now, new plans have been made.  I've had Speck/Drew, and that room is now his.  New memories have replaced the old ones, but there are still some things that give me that sting of loss, that catch.  The Aggie shirt that Drew now wears that I bought for her when I was still pregnant, the silver pin that is stuck in my mirror of a 10 week old baby's feet that a sweet lady gave Brian on the Fourth of July when he went up to bring me Communion, and then, of course, there is the Fourth of July itself which will always hold reminders of My Sweet Pea.  I don't want to forget.  I think, at first, I did because it hurt too much.

Brian asked me the day after we lost the baby if I wanted to give the baby a name.  I am a big nickname person as you may know, and had already been calling the baby Sweet Pea.  I thought that was enough of a name, and I quickly told him no.  I didn't know the gender though I suspected a girl.  I have been wrong every single time though with my other children and didn't want to rely on my instincts, my historically inaccurate instincts.  Naming her seemed to just make it harder and even more real.  And on top of all that, I felt people would think it was silly.  Silly?  Even though I felt it, I knew that was just stupid.  A soul isn't silly no matter what.  My baby never even grew to the size of a sweet pea, but she made a difference.  She was the focus of our family's prayers.  She was and is loved by God and by us.  She was loved and prayed for, and most of all, she is still able to do the most important part of what she was created to do...be happy with her Creator forever in Heaven.  She deserves a name.

It's taken me a long time to get to this point.  This spring I read the book After Miscarriage by Karen Edminsten.  One of my favorite parts was about having an "invisible family."  This is hard for any mom who has lost a child, to have people who meet you count only the children they can see and not all of your children.  It was not an easy book to read, but it gave me the courage and the encouragement to name my unborn child.  Karen wrote,

"A name affirms the uniqueness and dignity of the child you lost.  It is a small but very real gift you can give to the baby you were not able to see or embrace."

Lillian Therese.  That's our baby's name.  Lily was a name that has always been on our list, but just didn't seem right for Hannah or Genevieve.  It came from Matthew 6:28-30 that speaks of trusting in the Lord which has never come easily for me. 

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?"

How very right that name felt for this child who helped to teach me how to trust in the Lord more.  The name Therese is self explanatory to a Catholic. St. Therese of Lisieux died at a young age, and is well known for her little way of serving and loving God.

Lillian Therese.

A perfect name for my little saint. 

"Now I am setting out into the unknown.  It will take me a long while to work through the grief.  There are no shortcuts; it has to be gone through." ~Madeleine L'Engle from Two Part Invention:  The Story of a Marriage (quoted in After Miscarriage)