Sunday, June 29, 2014

Tattoo #7.

I finally got started on my newest tattoo for my miscarriage. It looks much better than what I had originally pictured.

I'm going back in about three weeks to get it completed and I can't wait.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Friday, June 20, 2014


I'm going to try to stay on top of these so I don't have such a cluster to post.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Random Update

It's so hot outside. Ridiculous heat. Luckily, I can temporarily offset dehydration with strawberry milkshakes. And lots of them! Strawberry is the new black. Not orange. Orange sucks. Sorry, orange.

My brain is frazzled. I haven't been able to focus on much lately. Currently, I'm trying to crochet a beaded shawl via crochetvolution, but it's tedious and beautiful and overwhelming. I have two different versions happening. One is regular yarn and another is a type of thread. Thread, while dainty, is painful on my fingers. No pictures of progress right now. It's not far enough along. Instead, a picture of the pumpkins.

My parents visited over the weekend. We ate at Olive Garden and Osaka, which means I'll be carrying that around in my thighs for the rest of the month. Worth it.

It's been a good month, aside from no-baby. Katie visited from Oregon and I gave her the bag of things-James-can't-wear for Spencer. Now I can walk in my walk-in closet. She's coming back in August, so hopefully we can get together again.

We finally went to see Jessie and Joey. The kids played in a yard with a sprinkler and chalk.

Today was a little rough on the kids. They had a joint doctor's appointment and had to get their fingers pricked. Both are completely healthy, no health issues, weight and height are right on track, etc.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Due Date

Today is my due date. It's raining, gray, dreary, like my mood. I marked my calendar "Baby Time!"

I can't believe how fast the months have gone by. My clothes never grew tighter, my belly never grew larger. I spent the last week wading in grief, torn between sadness and anger. I wondered if this one would've come in May.

I planted the marigolds, October's birth flower, a symbol of grief. The tiny pumpkin is still sitting in the flower pot. I don't want to throw it away just yet. It feels wrong. I decided to bind off the blanket I started and leave it as-is, small and unfinished, like my sweet baby I'll never know. All this time, I've had it in a box in the corner of my closet, out of site. The last time I had touched it was when I started bleeding. I don't know what I'm going to do with it, but it's my only tangible piece of my grief.