I'm a consumer of the Internet.  I always have been.  Perhaps it is because I use it so often in the day at work.  or because I use the computer in the evening as a method to prevent me from falling asleep on the couch five minutes after the last baby is in bed.  Regardless, I spend a lot of my day connecting with the world through my computer.  I like Facebook to reconnect, share photos and silly statues updates.  To hear about the world of my friends and family.  And through the years I've found a few bloggers who I regularly frequent simply because I like their writing style.  I like the blond princess food blogger because her recipes are fun and easy and kid friendly.  I like the woman who draws silly cartoons to go with the stories she tells because they're funny and because she's sarcastic and gets through the day with humor, much the same way I survive.  And then there is Stacie.

I've been reading Stacie's blog for at least three or four years.  I'm not sure how I landed there the first time, but she had me at hello.  She's a "mommy" blogger I suppose as she's a stay at home mother of four living somewhere in Idaho.  We've got a whole lot of nothing in common, but her drew me in immediately.  Perhaps it is because Grant is the same age as one of her children and I could relate.  Perhaps it is because she speaks so often of adoption, as someone who gave up a child and adopted a child and that's something I closely identify with.  Regardless, I have watched her children grow up through pictures and stories and followed the deep feelings she expressed a few times a week.  And today, I had tears in my eyes as I read her post.  Long about the time I lost our baby, a tube, a good shot at ever having another baby Stacie had her youngest son Nate.  And there were complications.  and they went on for over a year.  and they told her after the second surgery that if she ever had another pregnancy it would probably be an ectopic and she'd lose the baby and risk her health.  and following the third surgery, they told her not to worry about that anymore, because she would probably never be able to get pregnant at all.  And she morned that loss-not of a lost child-of the option to have more babies.  to feel at your core what makes you a mother.  and I mourned with her as I was mourning the loss of my child-who I had grown inside of me but couldn't protect and save.  the baby that died and took with her the promise of more children and so very much of who I am as a person.  Because no one in my real world could relate to this unbearable pain, this weight that I still carry with me daily for the love of my child I never got to hold.  I would have loved to have a person who I could call and tell the torture I was living through every day, but people don't understand.  The things that some of my closest friends and family said in an effort to make me feel better cut more than I ever knew words could.  "It's okay, there will be other babies" or "People have miscarriages-you'll be fine" or "You're lucky to have lost the baby, something was probably wrong with it anyway".  The number of inaccuracies in those statements are too numerous to even discuss, but there is something medical inaccuracy with each I assure you.  And so as I retreated into myself and away from the harshly-helpful words of the world, it was comforting to know I wasn't completely alone.  and as I watched Stacie go through her journey of pain and acceptance, I was going through my own journey of fighting infertility and dreaming that I might someday meet another child of my own.  And then, a lifetime later, the surprise and fear that came in the moment the stick was blue and told me I was pregnant.  The doctors words echoing in my ears-"call immediately when you get a positive pregnancy test.  we need to monitor you carefully, the likelihood that you have another ectopic is much higher then in other people.  Tell my nurses when you call that I told you that I want to see you immediately."  The excitement of the moment turned to unyielding fear.  How long I had longed for a positive test and how quickly the euphoria turned to fear.  And going in for the first ultrasound, remembering how I had been in that room years before, with the same tech no less, and instead of seeing the joy seeing an empty womb.  I could barely sit as she prepared. I wanted to be sick.  I wanted to run and not find out the answers she was going to give me, knowing I wasn't strong enough to survive a second time.  and the moment we saw that flicker on the screen, barely 5 weeks old along, at first I didn't believe it.  I was prepared for the pain and the testing and the death.  the idea that i would actually carry this baby to term was almost beyond my wildest dreams, despite the morning sickness and sudden onset of tomato hatred, i saw Luke for the very first time.  Luke, my sweet miracle baby.  And I spent every day of my pregnancy with Luke excited and happy and grateful, and just a little terrified that it wasn't real and I would lose him.  Every day until the day he was born.  It wasn't the same carefree pregnancy I had with Grant, so oblivious to the pain of losing a child.  In so many ways, it was more than I could have hoped for and I was able to appreciate the sheer luck that comes with an easy, healthy pregnancy.

Today, Stacie posted that she'd been sick and didn't think anything of it until she son brushed her breasts and they hurt.  and feeling silly she peed on a stick, never thinking it could really be true.  the joy and then horror that came with the positive pregnancy test.  and the pain that came with waiting for the ultrasound.  and the disbelief at her fifth child growing healthy in her womb, strong heart beat and perfectly sized and placed.  and as she used words like a canvas to paint images of her feelings, fear, elation, I had tears in my eyes as she completed another hurdle to having the child she longed for.  And laughed as she explained the nagging feeling that someone was going to come tell her they were wrong and that it was all going to end and there would be blackness, by using the analogy of an ice cream cone and her youngest child.  Because again, it was nice to have someone more eloquent then me put into words all of the emotions and feelings I had experienced so beautifully.  And this time I know the ending to the 40 weeks of never fully feeling safe.  And for me, his name is Luke and he's an evil genius baby, fearless to the core, lovable and tender and all things wonderful in the world. 

Most of the things you find online are frivolous and silly.  And I spend my time enjoying them as much as the next person.  But today I feel joy for a friend I've never met.  And that makes me a geek, and a little sad to have a connection to a stranger, but mostly just excited to go snuggle my little miracle baby and his crazy older brother and be thankful for the lives that aren't really supposed to be here, because they're some of the greatest kids you'll ever meet!

I stayed home with my boys today and had just a regular, normal Friday.  How sad that people in our world didn't have the same day.  That a stranger wandered into a theater and took the lives of 12 people and injured nearly another 50.  In small town USA.  In the town that is the home of my very best friend.  That injured the friend of a friend and took the life of another's cousin.  Of people who did nothing wrong, just showed up to watch a movie.  I was home with my babies today and so the television didn't go on all day and in a way I'm very blessed because I wasn't subjected to the photos and videos.  I read articles on CNN.com, but couldn't have a reaction in anyway because of those sweet little boys.  It was a gift for me.  Every day I think about how blessed I am to have those two babies and more and more I feel time sliding away.  It won't be long before I have to explain the wrongs of the world to my boys instead of shutting down the computer and turning an empty box into an ice cream store.  But for today, I was able to hold them just a little bit tighter and read a few extra stories and deliver cupcakes to the neighbors.  And that was enough for me.

It's been nearly a year since my last blog post.  my last post, where I guaranteed I would write more frequently.  I guess I was wrong!

What's happened in a year?  What hasn't happened in a year.  I measure time now by my children.  I can think of no better way to measure time.  Grant is 4 and a half and all words all the time.  He has got a thought on everything.  He's a scientist, a math geek, creative and funny and playful.  He's a reader.  He loves to swim, to scoot, to do anything outside.  He's an amazing big brother.  And Luke, a year ago Luke was cargo.  He only would be held by mommy and was shy and anxious in new situations.  And now he's this whole new little boy.  The transformation in the last two months has been amazing.  He's walking now and can say some words.  He quacks like a duck, a lot.  He loves his blanket and to carry around books.  He doesn't stop moving-not ever.  Even if he's sitting and having a drink his feet are constantly moving.  He loves his Grant, even though it is a word he can't yet say.  He'll grab his shirt to slow him down so he can play too.  He tackles him and gives him kisses and hugs, even when they aren't wanted.  He's finally friendly to other people, even letting people other than mom and dad hold him.  He's growing like a weed.  One and four are my two favorite ages so far, so it is great that they're lining up together.

Life is good for us.  Taylor travels too much for work and I've picked up more events and time at the office and so there is a fair amount of fear in my world about what the fall will look like for us and how we'll balance it.  Right now, we're simply enjoying the long summer days and hoping they go on forever.  We're blessed with our life and our problems are good ones to have.  I'm trying to remember how to swim on the surface instead of letting the day to day pull me below the surface.

Friends and family are all doing well.  We spent a week in Maine with my parents, who despite getting older, are having more fun than ever.  I'm excited to be flying to North Carolina in a few weeks to see my brand new Godson, Benjamin.  Though not on this trip, in another year or so, he and Luke will be fast friends.  We're hoping Princess Elinor will be able to join us for the weekend as well.  Three in 10 months, nothing would make me happier to have them all in one place, especially with all of their mama's!    I could really use some time with my girls.

Luka's got a mullet now.  A reddish mullet at that.  Yes, I'm thinking of letting it grow until our next Disney trip.  He's turing two in April, we'll have to get one more "free" plane ride in between now and then.

Grant starts preschool in the fall.  He's very excited.  It's only two days a week, but I think it will be good for him.  He'll be in the school that he'll be going to for Kindergarten.  I really wish he didn't miss the cut-off for school.  He's more than ready and I'm nervous that he's going to be bored.  He can really benefit from the experience of listening to a new adult though and I'm hoping we see some strengthening of his listening skills, because he's already a fan of addition and subtraction, so learning to count shouldn't be much of a challenge at this point.

and me.  Well, I've had a rough few months.  I'm hoping to use the rest of summer to help me refocus and figure out what I'm looking for and taking the steps necessary to take care of me a little bit.  And for today that simply means cleaning my half of the garage, mopping the floors, finishing unpacking from Maine, and doing some laundry.  And that makes me more than happy!