Thankful, Grateful, Blessed

“So, I know I haven’t been providing daily updates on the things I’m most thankful for, but I did want to share some especially exciting news and something for which I feel so grateful this Thanksgiving season.  Please enjoy the video below. :)”

That was the Facebook status I had planned on sharing with my Facebook family this Thanksgiving.  Odd, I know, to plan a status update weeks in advance, but when you’re home sick for three weeks due to uncompromising, unrelenting nausea, you have a lot, seriously A LOT, of time to just sit and think.  Besides, Thanksgiving was to fall one day after I would have celebrated my 12^th week of pregnancy – the time when most doctors believe you are in the “clear,” free from a majority of pregnancy complications.

My sweet baby, however, never quite made it that far.

I’ll spare everyone the details, but will say that I started losing the baby Wednesday night and I lost a lot of blood in the process – I knew in my heart that the baby, like our other from only three years ago, had made a premature departure to be with our Heavenly Father.  There did come a point, however, where I seriously started to worry about my own health as I felt increasingly more weak and unable to stay awake the more blood I lost.

The next day I went in for an ultrasound to confirm what I already knew.  In a lot of ways, this felt like de ja vue – waiting, on a table, with a gut feeling that I would hear news that would absolutely break my heart (anyone not familiar with this story can read more in my previous post This Side of Heaven).  Having learned from the last time - when the ultrasound tech cried upon the discovery of our lost twin - I went ahead and told the technician that I had lost a lot of blood and to please not feel alarmed if she didn’t see anything – I simply couldn’t stand the thought of seeing someone else upset.

And, again, like the last time, the tech found a lifeless baby in my womb.  With the twins, by body should have either passed or absorbed the baby much sooner than it did; this time, with so much blood lost, my body should have run its natural course and removed our baby on its own... 

I guess my body has as hard of a time as my heart when it comes to letting go. 

After the ultrasound we discussed options with my doctor and determined that to prevent further blood loss and potential hemorrhage, I should opt for a D&C procedure, which is exactly what we did.  And after several miserable hours in the hospital (remember, my body still responded as though I was pregnant and the nausea was at an all-time high), I had the operation and was released to go home.

The most difficult part of the day was the wheelchair ride through the labor and delivery floor, to the elevator, then to the lobby where I waited for Jeff to bring the car from the parking garage – I guess I’d always imagined that the wheelchair ride through Rochester General would be accompanied by a brand new baby in my arms; instead, my arms held my Wrigley coat and “The Runaway Jury,” the book Jeff had brought to keep him busy while I was in for surgery.  For arms that were so full, they sure felt so incredibly empty…

On the way home, we stopped at Jimmy Johns to grab sandwiches to go – what a nice change to WANT to eat; seriously, it had been a while since I felt like I could tolerate anything other than a baked potato.

Most of the rest of the night is a blur.  I vaguely remember eating and also remember bits and pieces of the boys coming home from our neighbor’s house (more on that in a moment).  I also remember Jeff waking me up from my nap on the couch to help me upstairs.  Before I called it a night, however, I wanted to open one of the three packages from Amazon that had sat in our dining room since Wednesday afternoon.  You see, on Monday I had gone on a bit of a shopping spree for our nieces and nephews and I felt as though looking at Christmas gifts would boost my spirits.  Unfortunately, when I opened the box I found some Palmer’s Coconut Lotion, meant for preventing pregnancy stretch marks – OUCH… what are the chances, right?

Anyway, the remainder of the night I alternated between the deepest sleep of my life (no doubt, a residual effect from the medication) and a mind that was so full of thoughts it refused to let me rest.

One of the thoughts that most commonly kept preventing my slumber was “Three is a Magic Number.”  Since I was a little girl that has been my all-time favorite Schoolhouse Rock song and last night it played through my head as I thought about how, two times now, I should have been the mother of three.  Maybe for me, “three” isn’t just magic- it’s simply not meant to be.

All of that being said, it’s been a rough couple of days.  But, here’s the good news…

I will, without doubt, have moments, likely even full-days over the next few months where I have a longing to hold the baby who’s face I’ve never seen – I’m not naïve to that fact.  I, however, have a peace that surpasses all others, knowing how much love and support I have from family, friends, neighbors (who, let’s face it, are our family in NY!), and coworkers.    I seriously am more blessed than I deserve.  With this in mind, I would like to share a list of the many, many things for which I am thankful this Thanksgiving season and always.

       ~My husband who strikes the perfect balance between being the strength I need to make it through difficult days as well as the man who isn’t afraid to tell me that he’s hurting too.  I love him with my whole heart and hope he knows that he is my rock, my best friend, and the absolute love of my life.

~Jake, who was so excited to have another baby that of all the people in the world, I most dreaded telling him the news.  Jake, as you all know, is a thinker .  While he was pensive when we shared about the loss, he mentioned that he thought it was really great that his brother or sister was “with God and Jesus,” then hopped off his barstool to hug me and tell me that he was so happy I was feeling better – since he was born, Jake has always known when I needed a little extra love… so thankful for that.

~Eli – my sweet boy who is so laid back and so sweet.  This kid gives the warmest, most amazing hugs and can brighten even the darkest of days with just a simple smile.  What a blessing to have a son who is the perfect combination of rough-and-tough boy and a sweet, sensitive soul.

    ~My mom, dad and step-mom who are all such incredible prayer warriors.  They know that God provides comfort, but are also quick to remind me that God understands that we can feel sad, angry, frustrated, and confused  and that feeling these things is not only OK, it’s normal and expected.  They always know just what to say.

    ~My cousin Donna and Aunt Deb who are always the first to reach out and tell me they love me and are thinking about me.  When I hurt, they hurt.  I love them more than words can say and wish so much that I could see them more often.

    ~My in-laws: from my sisters-in-law to Larry and Theresa, I am so incredibly fortunate to be a Garman.  Their words of support mean so, so much.  Larry and Theresa sent this thoughtful gift this afternoon.

~My neighbors… seriously, you think your neighbors are great – they’ve got nothing on mine. :)

      Wednesday night, when everything started, our neighbors Greg and Holly welcomed our boys into their home.  I couldn’t stand the thought of the boys seeing me so weak and so sick, and knowing they were playing with their friends took so much weight off of our shoulders.  Holly was also able to follow up with a GREAT story of Jake sharing with everyone that he doesn’t sleep in pajamas; nope, he sleeps in his underwear just like his Daddy – I definitely needed a laugh and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I heard that story.  Holly also made us dinner for tonight.  She had no way of knowing this, but Jeff has inventory at his branch tonight and won’t be home until midnight.  I was worried about how I was going to feed the kids (per doctors order, I’m not supposed to do anything for the next few days).  Her timing is amazing!  Her and Greg’s kindness and friendship means more than they know.

Then there are the Smiths.  Erin was so great to taxi around and pick up Jake from Chess Club then pick up Eli from preschool.  Sean and Erin kept our boys for the evening and kept them preoccupied from wondering where I was by having a pizza party.  Talk about a fun night!  Erin also reached out to Jeff this morning to ask about my favorite drink from Dunkin Donuts.  She surprised me with my go-to medium Caramel Mocha iced coffee AND Us Weekly and InStyle magazines.  So thoughtful of her to know that my nausea has kept me from coffee for weeks and that I could use a little distraction today.  I loved spending the morning catching up with her am so thankful for her friendship.
 

        ~My friends who have celebrated in our great news and also hurt with us when our hearts were breaking – I love each of them so much and am glad that God has sent us across the country, move after move, allowing us the privilege of meeting so many wonderful people.   

  ~My co-workers: I had only shared my pregnancy with a few people at work and dreaded telling them all about the loss.  The response, however, has been overwhelming.  From our VP, my peers, and my bff in HR to my manager and my team , I have felt surrounded by love and support.  Here’s a snapshot of one response I received:

"Normally I would call for something like this but I don't want to bug you too much. Amanda, I am so so sorry to hear about your news, it is incredible how positive your email was. I can't imagine how you're feeling right now. I want you to know that we are behind you 1000%, your team absolutely loves you and deservedly so. If there is anything I can do for you to lighten the load for either you or Jeff and the boys please let me know.  I am proud to call you not only my manager but my friend and, as such, am happy to share in the good times and the bad. Hope to hear from you very soon."

      Another one of my TSMs, knowing what a huge fan I am of Edible Arrangements, sent me this sweet surprise.

~I’m blessed to have had such a speedy recovery. My surgeon had warned that I would likely be in pain for the next few days and while, yes, I’m exhausted and will likely remain weak for the next several days, I am happy to say that I am (almost) pain-free – so nice to not have physical discomfort to accompany the emotional pain.
 
~ I’m grateful for peace – for the feeling that, though I’m so incredibly sad, things will be OK.
 
~ I’m thankful that God, time and time again, has prepared me for loss.  Several weeks ago, before I even knew I was pregnant, I woke up with a song on my heart.  It was a song I had recently heard at church, and while the melody was stuck in my head, I simply couldn’t remember the words.  That very same morning, purely by coincidence, Jeff started singing the song out loud as he got dressed for work.  Every day, since that day, I’ve listened to that song – one of only 5 songs I have downloaded to my iPhone.  I’m grateful that these words have been in my mind and on my heart – they resonate more true today than they ever have.
o   Listen Here: Not For a Moment
o  Here's a sampling of the lyrics:

 And every step every breath you are there 
Every tear every cry every prayer 
In my hurt at my worst 
When my world falls down 
Not for a moment will You forsake me  

After all You are constant 
After all You are only good 
After all You are sovereign 
Not for a moment will You forsake me 
Not for a moment will You forsake me 

These, of course, are just a few of the many, many things for which I am so thankful.   And while I admit that I am very likely sometimes guilty of taking for granted the many blessings in my life, I always know that in the good times and the bad, I am this day and every day, so thankful, so grateful, and so incredibly blessed.

Thanks to you all for your love and support during this difficult time.

Jake's 5th Birthday was Dino-Mite!

The Invitations

Crumbled graham crackers and Oreos with mini chocolate eggs and party details placed in glass containers

Laminated tags placed inside the invitations- Address and RSVP info printed on the back

                                 The Party

Prehistoric masks used as decoration - I used mini clothespins to attach
the masks to Raffia

Dino Bones- Pretzels and Mini Marshmallows dipped in White Choclate

Lava Cake- one 9" sqaure cake (corners trimmed), two 8" round cakes), one 8" mini bundt cake; add a small votive to the middle for a really cool effect... see a few pics below

Volcanoes with Cream Cheese Icing; I used Fat Daddio's 8-Cavity Volcano Cake Molds (sold on Amazon)

Dinosaur Claws- Bugles

Herbivore Treats- Hummus with Carrtos, Celery, and Sugar Snap Peas

Happy Birthday Boy

It smokes!  
Add votive to the bundt cake and add dry ice and water

Trying on their masks!

Dinosaur Dig 
Plaster Dinosaur Bones (I used Dinosaur Bones Sand Mold Kit - Sold on Amazon)
Homemade Dinosaur Eggs-Recipe Below

Eli found his little dinosaur!

Homemade Dinosaur Egg Recipe (makes 3-4 eggs)

• 1 1/2 cup flour
• 1 cup used coffee grounds - Not a coffee drinker?  No Problem!  Starbucks will gladly give you their used grounds (generally reserved for gardens, but don't be afraid to ask!).  Lay out to dry overnight.
• 1/2 cup salt
• 1/4 cup sand
• 3/4 cup water
• Plastic mini dinosaurs

Preheat oven to 175.

Add all ingredients and knead... yes, you WILL get super dirty, but it's so much fun!  Once combined, grab a handful of the mixture, add your mini dinosaur, and form a ball.  Place the eggs on a baking sheet and bake for 20-25 minutes. *Note- I made these two times; the first time I doubled the recipe to make 8 dinosaurs and the baking time was perfect; the second time I had to bake for 40 minutes.  The baking time really depends on how humid the day and the moisture of the coffee beans.

After baking, let cool, then use as desired! We put ours in an inflatable pool with play sand.  

Elf on the Shelf Breakfast

This morning "Buddy,"  Jake and Eli's Elf on the Shelf, left a note for the boys along with a special surprise breakfast.

Dear Jake and Eli,

I hope you enjoy the breakfast I've made for you.  I've made reindeer donuts, snowballs (powdered sugar donut holes, not in pic), and North Poles for hot chocolate for my two favorite boys.

Merry (Early) Christmas!

Your friend,

Buddy

So sweet to see the boys faces light up and hear them clap and cheer when they saw the surprise.  Eli also yelled in his little voice, "Thank you, Buddy!"

Oh how I love the holidays!

1000 Last Words: A Series of Challenges

What if you were told that you had only 1000 words left to say? No typing, no texting, no signing, no drawing – just 1000 words that you would ultimately leave as a lasting impression of your legacy?

Jeff and I recently watched the Eddie Murphy movie titled, “1000 Words.” The movie wasn't great, but the premise really got me to thinking... What if we had to budget our words? What would we say and to whom would we say it?

Most of you would quickly point out that I’m a talker and I would be out of luck, and out of words, in a mere matter of minutes if not seconds. So I set out to prove everyone, myself included, wrong…

Challenge 1.) 

Put into words the things I would like to say to a select few in my life in 1000 words or less.

I’m happy to report that with a lot of thought and a ton of time (this project took me three weekends to complete), what started as a blank Microsoft Word document became a page filled with the things I would say to the most important people in my life.  I ended up writing to 10 different people and while I won’t share specifics of what I wrote, I will give a breakdown of my most frequently used words and phrases:

• “Love” or other form of the word (loveable, loves, etc)- 25
• Happy- 12 
• Thanks, thankful, thank you- 12
• Best (best husband, best boys, mom, dad, brother, LIFE, etc)- 11
• Blessed, bless, blessing- 6
• God- 5
• Proud- 4
• “I’m sorry,”- 3 

Notably missing from this list are hurtful, hateful words. I try to avoid thinking or speaking any words that could prove hurtful (and hope that most people will agree I do a pretty good job!), but wouldn't we all remain constantly aware of how impactful our words are if we didn't have enough left to make the mistake of hurting someone, with the understanding that we might not have enough words to take them back?

This was a fun challenge and I’m really glad I did it. What I learned in doing this is that in the end, there are some people for whom I simply didn’t have enough words in the world to let them know just how much I love them. This realization, or confirmation really, inspired three follow-up challenges…


Challenge 2.) 

Use my words wisely and employ them to encourage positivity, to share the Gospel, to incite laughter, and to show love.

I figure that since we don’t have word banks or budgets and are blessed with the opportunity to say whatever we want as often as we’d like, I want to remember that I should be responsible in choosing what I say – I never want to hurt anyone or leave the wrong impression of who I am or what I stand for.

Challenge 3) 

Do everything I can to SHOW people how I feel...

because in the end, words can never be enough. I can tell Jeff that he is the love of my life and how lucky I am to have him, or tell the boys how blessed I am to be their momma, or tell my brother how proud I am of the man he’s become - but if I don’t SHOW them, my words will be a waste.

Challenge 4.)  

Tell people how I feel.

After all, what's the point of writing something to someone and never sharing what's on your heart?

You have a lifetime of words to use and share - how will you use them?  After these challenges, I'm glad to say that I know.

*In case you were wondering, this blog is 618 words!

WWJD?... Would He Cage Fight?

Ummm, so, yeah...

Jeff, the kids, and I tried a new church this morning and I have to say that I was actually really optimistic that we would quickly find the right church for our family; after all, we've had excellent success in finding the perfect church in the last two states we've lived.  

From the looks of it, the church we selected this week had a lot going for it: it's Baptist (more difficult to find in the Northeast than it is in the Bible Belt), had a nice mix of young adults, children, and older members, AND had an AWESOME website; sadly, the latter of the three was the factor than tilted the proverbial scale to green-light a Sunday morning trial.

So, we went, and almost immediately after walking in we realized that the entire ambiance was different - weird, even - but once you've walked in, your stuck right?

On the upside, everyone was really friendly and the feel was casual, which was nice - one guy was even wearing cowboy boots, a definite bonus to a Texas girl like me.

The first thing that stuck out to us was that the entire interior of the sanctuary was painted black - black walls, black floor, black seats, and black stage.  Definitely a far cry from our beautiful and bright church back in McKinney and an even further stretch from the churches that my husband, the Catholic, is accustomed to.  

"Poor styling, no big deal," I thought, trying to stay positive.

But then, there was the pastor...

It was difficult, but I was able to look past his tight fitting T-shirt (Jeff commented that the shirt would have fit Jake, and he may actually be right!).  I could overlook (with a great deal of channeling my inner WWJD? mentality) the Bedazzled rhinestone-studded back pockets of his jeans.  But, during a discussion of fear, when the guy said, and I quote, "You think I'm not scared when I step into that cage?"... I had to ask myself if I'd misheard what he'd said.

Just a few minutes ago, Jeff jokingly asked me if the pastor was a cage fighter - we giggled, and were both under the (naive) impression that the dude was painting a figurative picture, but as a self-proclaimed investigative reporter, I decided to turn to my most reliable informant, Google, and searched the man's name - we'll stay generic: Joe Smith- cage fighter.

Would you believe that results actually popped up!!!  Turns out, he's the featured pastor in a documentary about cage-fighting Christians...  really?!?!?

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about "to each his own," but there's something about seeing a pastor on a movie trailer, punching someone's face in that screams - no - whispers, in a spine-tingling, hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck-raising voice, "run."  

Ugh, so, so weird.

Needless to say, the chances of us returning to that church are slim to none.  The unfortunate thing is, I now have an overwhelming desire to call area churches to ask for the pastor's stance on cage fighting.  And, no, I'm not kidding and, no, me choosing to do so isn't completely out of the question...

Chalk this one up to yet another lesson learned in judging a book by its cover, or in this case, website.

Praying we find an awesome, family-oriented, Bible-believing and teaching, NON-VIOLENT church.

With this Ring...

Early yesterday evening I made my weekly trip to Wegman’s, the NY grocery chain that locals promote as though it’s a main tourist attraction (and for good cause, may I add – this place is easily the best grocery store I’ve ever visited, and I have dozens of chains in 7 different states  by which to compare!).  Among the Garman household staples like milk, yogurt, and applesauce, I planned on purchasing ingredients for this week’s menu of Filipino Adobo Slow-Cooked Pulled Pork, Pork Chops with Brown Sugar Apples and Brown Rice, and for a special stay-at-home movie/dinner date night, fresh sushi with edamame and seaweed salad.

I had just turned my increasingly overflowing shopping cart down the seasoning aisle, giving myself a mental pat on the back for so easily finding an item in this new, absolutely enormous market when my Blackberry let out that familiar ring.  I was expecting a call from a channel support manager in Chicago, and was surprised to see that Jeff was calling – I’d only just spoken with him a half hour or so before.

I could tell from Jeff’s pause after my greeting of “Yes, love?” that something was wrong – and not “I-had-a-bad-day-at-work” wrong, but really, really wrong. When I asked what was going on, I could hear him try to speak, then immediately heard him struggling to swallow his words.  My heart sank.  Last I talked to him, he was on his way to pick up the boys from preschool – did something happen to one of my babies?  Was something wrong with one his parents?  Did he wreck his company car?  A million thoughts – all horrible, of course – passed through my mind.  Before I could press him for an answer, Jeff managed to choke out the words, “I’ve lost my wedding ring.”

My initial feeling was that of relief – when you’ve been through true tragedy, and we have, everything else seems to pale in comparison.  That feeling was fleeting, however, and almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone and replaced with a gut-wrenching, overwhelming desire to cry.

In less than a second I was transported from the wall of seasonings at Wegman’s to the Jared Galleria of Jewelers in Portsmouth, NH in the summer of 2007…

I must have spent hours there, carefully and thoughtfully picking out the perfect ring for my soon-to-be husband.  I knew that Jeff preferred white gold, but also knew that he had a yellow gold chain that he’d worn since high school, so I decided to find a ring with both.  After speaking with a sales woman, I determined that platinum, instead of white gold, was the best fit for Jeff – at the time, we were both selling windows and doors to Home Depot and doing necessary resets – the durability and low maintenance of this precious metal were extremely appealing.

Within seconds of being shown the platinum and yellow gold combination wedding bands, I saw it – the one, if you will.  Women often speak of trying on wedding dresses and instantly knowing that they had found the dress for them – the dress they could see themselves walking down the aisle in, having the first dance in, having pictures taken in.  For me, when I saw this ring, I could picture placing it on Jeff’s finger then looking up to see the smile on his face.  I have to say that seeing the price tag was a little discouraging, but I ultimately decided that I would spend less money on the cake, flowers for the big day, etc, so I could afford to buy this ring for the love of my life.

My trip down memory lane didn’t end there.  Naturally, my next memory was of our wedding day, and seeing that smile I had daydreamed about just a few months before.  Then, I pictured that same ring on that same hand as it clenched mine, helping me into a wheelchair on a cold, snowy night in Newburyport, MA., that same ring that cut into my fingers as I squeezed Jeff’s hand as I listened to his words of encouragement cheering me on, “One more push, you can do this,” the last words he said before I heard the first cry of my first born baby boy.

This was the same ring he’d worn through countless sonograms, during countless high-fives and fist bumps for my awesome jokes or stellar performances during Saturday morning basketball shootouts in our living room (toot my own horn much?), and hundreds of twirls and dips during Friday night dance parties at the Garmans.  I loved that ring, but not nearly as much as I love the man and the memories from our life together.

If I’m being honest, though, things haven’t always been perfect…

Marriage isn’t easy, folks – in fact, it’s frickin’ difficult, draining, frustrating (you get the point) at times.  And, other than choosing to accept and follow Christ, picking the right person to marry is the single most important decision we can ever make.  That’s a lot of pressure, right?

And while so many people, women especially, can’t see past the excitement of the pre-wedding bliss that is dress shopping, and showers, and the wedding day itself, I – being the realist that I am – went into marriage knowing that things wouldn’t always be fairytale worthy.

It was easy to anticipate arguments over what color to paint the kitchen, which movie to see on the weekend, or what amount of money is too much for a Coach purse.  What brought me  back to Earth though, were the things I couldn’t anticipate – like moving in and out of 5 houses in as many years or going months, literally months, without a date because your nearest relative or friend lives over 1000 miles away.  I didn’t anticipate that we’d both get promotions within a month of each other and be thrown into management roles where we have to learn more and work harder than we ever have, not to mention that I now live away from home for a week out of every month.  I couldn’t plan for surgery to remove pre-cancerous cells or a doctor finding a lump in my breast, all while in my late 20s.  I couldn’t have prepared to have my wildest wish of having twins come true, only to experience the unshakeable heartbreak of losing a child I never got to hold…. 

Perhaps more simply stated: it’s easy to anticipate laughter and love, but much more difficult to anticipate life.

While this would probably make for world’s worst wedding toast, the silver lining is this – Sunshine without the rain is a desert, and it’s the valleys, the hard times, the arguments that make you all the more appreciative of how blessed you are to have that one person in this world who loves you more than life itself…

I have that.

 I screw up… a lot… but to quote my father, “marrying that man is the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”  And despite the many ups and downs of our time together, I’m just so thankful that of all the women in all the world, Jeff picked ME.  He’s not perfect, and neither am I; but we’re perfect for each other.

I’m so thankful to have a husband who shares common interests, who has ambition and a passion for life in the very same way I do.   A man loves new experiences and is teaching my children discipline, respect, to seek adventure, and to love their momma more than anything on Earth.

All of these thoughts overwhelmed me and I forced myself to return to reality in hopes of avoiding a public meltdown – after all, I’m new to town and any number of the Wegman’s patrons could be a neighbor – I continued down the aisle and took a right, reading the overhead signs trying to find Mott’s for Tots sugar free apple juice.  Hmmm, if I were apple juice, where would I be…..

Before I could finish my thought, the Blackberry rang a second time – Jeff again.  He’d found his ring.

I breathed a sigh of relief – out loud I think – and smiled a little too.  Traditional vows refer to rings as “tokens” of love and affection and I was given an unexpected, humbling reminder that there are a lot of symbols of love, but symbols without substance mean absolutely nothing at all.

 The past few months have easily been the most stressful of my life, but I’m so thankful, so blessed, to know that there are a lifetime of memories that I’ll share with my very best friend through good times and bad, ‘til death do we part.

With this ring, forever and I ever, I do.