It's Confusing

We've been dealing with passive aggressive behavior with BB for... well, he's been this way his whole life, apparently. From what PC says. But since I'm the full-time stay-at-home parent now, I'm the one dealing with it on an everyday basis. 

But lately, LM has been showing the more and more passive aggressive behaviors as well.

Just between you and me... I HATE passive aggressive behavior. Emotional manipulation is just wrong. And the underhanded sneaky stuff is even more abhorred in my books.

So. What to do about it? 

When it's sneaky stuff, I'm really not sure what to do. Outright disobedience is one thing. This underhanded disrespect and attempt to force a superior into your wishes... well... I don't know how to handle it.

Do I call it what it is? Even when it's hard to define? And start making a big deal of it, even when sometimes I might jump to the wrong conclusions? 

If anyone has an idea of a book or other resource that might help me wade through this, please send me a note. Or, if you have experience dealing with this in your own kiddos, I'd very much appreciate some input here.

It's Thought Provoking

And humbling.

Since the miscarriage, women have come out of the woodwork to share their own stories with me. Some of them have told their stories to others already. Some of them told me they hadn't shared their story with anyone else. Or with very few. But they all wanted me to know I wasn't alone, that they were praying for me, and grieving with me. So humbling. And makes me so grateful for the women I am surrounded by. Not surrounded in the sense of them being close by, but surrounded in the sense of them impacting my life for good, and making me feel enveloped by love.

One friend in particular wrote me a letter two days after my miscarriage to tell me her story, and to share hope with me. Since I was still in the midst of a dense mental fog on the day I received it, a lot of her letter didn't "stick", and I knew I would want to go back and re-read it later (maybe many times) as I worked my way out of the fog. But one statement in particular did stick. And I thought about it quite a lot during the days I was in bed, and still more once I started getting back on my feet, and yet more as the fog started to clear in spots. Just so you'll understand the context, this friend has had two children since her own miscarriage.

The statement was this:

     "Where [my daughter's] birth proved that I COULD carry life, [my son's birth] seems to have proved that I can also nurture it. For me there is a difference. He's teaching me how to love [my daughter] more, and not be so scared of myself as a mother. I'm a better mother to the living because of the lost one."

 Not only did she offer me hope that one miscarriage doesn't mean I will never have a baby to hold, but she held out hope to me that I can be a better mother for having gone through this. I'm not certain I can communicate why this statement impacted me so strongly, but it somehow freed me. It gave me the hope that while the pain is intense right now, that one day I will be able to pull good from this, to be a better person from this, a better mother from this. That while this has (and will continue to) impact me hugely, it does not have to DEFINE me.

That statement from my friend was probably the number one thing that has helped me process everything so far. 

Her closing statement in the letter (and SO many other notes I received along a similar line) were what made me feel surrounded by love...

     "Lots of time has helped with perspective. Allow yourself time to mourn, but also let it enrich your present blessings. Life is a miracle, and the sheer volume of miracles surrounding us doesn't make them any less miracles, but we forget.
      You need time to yourself, but you also have to keep open to others to heal. I learned this the hard way, and it cost me precious healing time.
      This little glimpse into what could have been will always be bitter sweet. If I ever looked back in life and saw where God held me, this is one of them. I believe that He holds you too. I wish I had more to offer. I'm mourning and weeping with you. I would like to even be able to give you a hug, but I can't. So I place you daily in His arms and pray for His peace."

Thank you, my friend(s). I won't name you here for the sake of privacy, but you know who you are. And only God knows how grateful I am for your support and love.

Oh, and regarding looking for miracles around us... I'm looking. And I'm finding them. I'm finding them in BB's maturity the last two weeks, the way he has stepped up the plate and helped me in SO many ways. I'm finding them in God's provision. I'm finding them in the assistance of strangers at the hospital. I'm finding them in my marriage. I'm finding them in the smiles of a baby I borrow at church when I need baby snuggles, and in his parents who love me. I'm finding them in the friends who drive to my house to have tea - just because. I'm finding them in the offer of a friend to clean my bathroom. I'm finding them in my mom's offer to have us to lunch on the day I have to do a big grocery shopping trip. I'm finding them in my brother's phone calls. I'm finding them in the realization that the statement I have always made about relationships being the most important thing in life is more true than I even realized.

I'm finding them, my friend. I'm finding them.

It's Likely to be Hard

I'm dreading Mother's Day. 

If I could just focus on my own mom, and push everything else out for the day, I think I'd be okay. But with how supportive my church family has been, it's likely someone (okay, several someones) will say something sweet and caring - knowing it will be a tough day - and I'll lose it. And I don't really want to spend the day feeling like a basketcase of tears and emotion. 

If only I could have had a bit more time before Mother's Day hit, I think it might have been easier. Maybe.

As a side note, and for the record, I have come to DESPISE the word "miscarriage". It makes me feel like I was being careless while carrying my baby in my arms, dropped her on her head on the sidewalk, and let her break in a million pieces. 

It's a Similar Story Repeated

A mom. Yet not a mom. 

In dealing with becoming a stepmom, I've struggled with the whole "I'm a mom, but I'm not a mom" thing. Something almost every stepmom deals with, from what I understand. Well, except those stepmoms who also have bio kiddos.

And now, because of the miscarriage, I'm facing the same thing all over again. But this time... this time, I really AM a mom. It's just that I never got to hold my baby. Never got to see it. Didn't even really know for sure that it was THERE - until it wasn't. 

And it feels like I don't even have any "proof" that I AM a mom. Because it's not like I even have an ultrasound image of my baby. All I have is the hospital band from my wrist, and the elastic bandage thing from my IV. That's not exactly "proof" I was pregnant. 

I'm a mom. But not. 

I mean, I AM a mom. But there's nothing to show for it. So it feels like there isn't even an acknowledgment that my baby ever existed.

I don't even really know why I'm writing about this. Because I can't even find the words to explain like I wish I could. Except that... perhaps another mom who has miscarried will read this and realize she's not alone in her feelings and struggles with this one.

I've heard several stories lately of moms who miscarried having a memorial service of sorts for their baby. Or even some sort of private ceremony/remembrance/something to give themselves the space to grieve, to acknowledge the death of something - someONE - so tiny, so fragile. So precious. On one hand I wish I could do something like that. It feels weird to be grieving a death that happened so privately, so quietly, that not even the person carrying that life knew when it happened. Only what happened after that death. But at the same time, attempting to have a memorial service (or remembrance, or whatever) for a life that no one knew about seems... almost ludicrous.

But regardless of whether others knew of the life... I'm grieving the death. And having "closure" (whatever that stupid word means in real life) doesn't really seem possible right now.

It's Safe In God's Hands

Biomom called PC's cell phone today while he was at work and left a message that she wants him to call her regarding her having the boys for the summer. (This is the first she has attempted to discuss it with him. The only reason I knew anything about it before this point was because the boys mentioned it to me.)

For a glimpse of what I really think on the matter see this post. 

We checked the divorce agreement regarding the kids. She's broken some huge things in there. And because she left the country for so long, it appears she may have very few rights. PC is talking about legal action to get FULL custody - as in no rights for her at all. It's so very very wrong for her to continue trying to jerk the kids around this way. I'm still hearing about how they wanted to see her before she left the country, and how she said she wanted to see them, and how "her plans must have changed". And that was over two years ago, if I remember the dates right. Disappointments just keep happening. Broken promises just keep happening. Abuse just keeps happening. And PC looked ready for war tonight when he mentioned legal action.

God, please give us wisdom. Guide us to an excellent lawyer who can tell us what we need to know, and help us to take the RIGHT steps. Because right now I'm not sure what the right step is. I would like it if her rights were completely taken away. I would dearly love to adopt them as my own - on paper, not just in my heart. But only You know if that would be the right thing for THEM. If having her be their mom on paper is somehow less damaging to them than having her rights terminated, then show us, please. But whatever Your answer is, please give us peace about it. My heart is breaking over the ongoing damage she is causing. And I see so many ways that this is going to affect their adult years. Their life decisions. Their future. Please, God, heal the hurt - emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Only You can heal pain like the pain they continue to have to deal with.

It's Sometimes Got Healing Tears

Found this article earlier today. Most of the online stuffs I'm finding haven't made me cry. This one almost did. But it was really good, so I'm posting the link here in case I need to go back and re-read it.

http://blogs.babycenter.com/mom_stories/thankful-for-my-miscarriage/

It's a Place of Gratefulness

I am thankful:

-that my baby is safe with Jesus - not in pain and/or struggling to breathe in NICU

-that my sister and mom and PC kept trading places in the ER with me so I wasn't ever alone

-that neither PC nor myself allowed bomb #2 to threaten our marriage

-that bomb #3 wasn't worse than it was - because it could have been absolutely horrendous

-that my family was nearby when life exploded last week

-for friends that support me in prayer, and phone calls, and emails, and texts, and visits, and hugs, and... 

-that I'm alive

-for friends that extend grace to me and my family in so many, many ways

-that God's mercies are new every morning

-that I made it home in time to see the cherry tree begin to blossom

-that I have a husband who holds me when I cry, who makes me laugh in spite of everything, and who is forcing me to take it easy - even when I feel useless - because I know he's right, and I'll heal faster if I listen to him