Imagination Movers… and shakers (with awesome update)

Before I continue, I must tell y’all that long before The Imagination Movers hit the Disney big time, my mom nicknamed Abby the “juice box hero” and she until tonight, has held it against my Cajun brethren….

Today was a red letter day for Abby. She and I have been planning this special excursion for months….  counting down sleeps, practicing her dance to the show’s theme, rehearsing what she would say to her hero Smitty and reveling in the idea that she was old enough for her very first concert. Music is a huge deal in our family. Both Hubs and I were in bands and some of my songs can be found on LimeWire…rofl. Don’t even think about asking me.. because I aint tellin’.

Abby was so SO excited that we were going to see the Imagination Movers in concert that she hasn’t slept all week. Those of you how know us know that this is FAR from hyperbole. Last night, I finally got her settled in and snoring at 3AM. Lord Help. She was singing the Please and Thank You song in her sleep for Goodness sake. It was going to be a long long day. Those of you who have children (and allow said children to watch tv) know that these shows are often highly hyped and almost always a two hour Gilligan’s Island-esque tour through overt merchandising and a complete and total mind suck for all adults with an IQ over 50. If we are being honest… and that’s what blogs are for… I was not looking forward to it. From south Louisiana or not, I was expecting the worst. (Think Disney on Ice.. with  under studies)

We woke at the buttcrack of dawn and quickly dressed for our escape. Let girls’ day commence! Abby watched VeggieTales for the two hour drive in horrid rain into Indianapolis. Listening to ‘Do the MuShu” made me seriously want PF Changs (Shanghai cucumbers, anyone?) So, we arrived in Indy, we headed straight to the Nordstrom Mall… mmm PF Chang’s! Bring it!

After trying to find parking for 30 minutes and not finding valet parking anywhere remotely close.. I REFUSE to pay 15 bucks to park and still walk 4 blocks in the rain with little miss jump in puddles ( her native american name)…  we decided to find a place to dine closer to the theatre.

We found a German restaurant that had stellar reviews and decided to get while the getting was good. I don’t know about y’all but Abby is not a white linen tablecloth kinda girl. I was a tad worried. Worried for our server, worried for the crystal, and frankly? Worried for me. We were surrounded by the elderly and affluent. This did not look good. I explained to Abby that she needed to be on her fancy date day behavior and prayed for the best. At first, she was less than amused. She warmed up in pure Abby style and made a gift for our server.

After lunch we walked to the theatre. The princess was SO excited.. as were the other 3,000 children waiting with baited breath to see the Imagination movers. Again… I was not all that thrilled. I mean I love the show. I have to love a show that uses the term brainstorm. That values a child’s mind and heart. But live? What children’s show is better on stage? I shrugged to myself and said “at least it’s not Barney”

The show started and I played excited so that Abby wouldn’t be quite so unsure… because she was terribly unsure.

At this point, I told my sweet scared baby girl that we could leave, go sit in the lobby or whatever she may need to feel safer. She insisted we stay. It took her about 20 minutes to relax and another 10 to get into the singing and dancing. While she warmed up… a few things happened: each member, Scott, Smitty, Dave and Rich all came down into our audience and were interacting with the children… they were interacting with my child… even though her face looked like that. They went out of their way to speak to and touch the kids that looked a little less than confident in their surroundings. Score one for the Movers. They also worked wonderful adult humor into the show ( huge bonus). And there was this one other thing. They were good. Talented. And musically.. well… quite wonderful.

It seems that our children are faced with an insincerity that we didn’t encounter until much later in our lives. Somewhere, somehow, we… as a culture…  have forgotten that children can smell out pretension and facades quicker than we can tell someone needs a new diaper. But these guys were authentic. At one point, Rich spoke about their collective journey and it was as if he was sharing his testimony. I felt God’s whisper when he told the children.. MY child.. to never stop believing.

Halfway through, I had Abby dancing in my lap and another little girl on my other knee so she could see better. I never got the little girl’s name.. but she was welcome to share my space. ( I don’t know what it is about me that attracts random children… but I hope that  never changes) At the end, Abby got to hold hands with her Mover hero: Smitty. He is second only to Hubs and Jesus… and that is exactly what she told him.

And after today’s show, I have to say if she has to admire TV show characters, I am blessed she chose a group of four silly dads called the Imagination Movers. ( my only complaint is she refuses to wash the hand that held Smitty’s)

If you get a chance to take your little ones, JUMP UP!

I love y’all,

CeCe

UPDATE: I received an email response from The Imagination Movers.. and I think y’all need to see it for yourself. I told y’all these guys were authentic. And I  love it when I am proven correct.. just wish that phenomenon happened more often.

In my Inbox, after freezing my Cajun (aka large) hiney off at Trunk or Treat:

“…Thanks for seeing us as who we are. For one, treat kids as creators instead of consumers. Moreover, we appreciate that children don’t fake smiles or have agendas. To a large degree they’re much closer to what is ‘true’ than we adults are. Hopefully, we’ve created something that is sincere and meaningful for families to share in together. Sorry for being sappy but it’s who are.

Tell Abby, the Movers are happy she enjoyed the show.

Rock on!

the Movers”

I love these guys! For loving our kids. I must admit, I would love them more if they came from LA with Boudin and Chargrilled Oysters for the concession stand. A girl can dream.

Wake up and smell the froot loops

OK. I admit it. I have been in a mood as of late. Could it be that we have had no free time for the last 7 weeks with classes on foster parenting (geared toward people with far less education than us.. another post all together)?  Maybe it’s the week long sinus headache?  Could it be because my mother’s cognitive level changes when the leaves start turning.( I think it’s part of her personal grieving process… as it gets colder she starts reliving her last winter as an independent woman.) Perhaps my grumpiness is in response to feeling so very sad for Kim, Amber and Sharon.

I truly have no idea. I just know I am in a mood. When I have a bug up my butt (as my son so eloquently puts it), I suffer. But my family? Not so much.

See? we all have tale tale signs of being in a funk. Mine just happen to be a bit odd. When the going gets tough? The tough (me) get shopping or baking. SO while I am feeling like whipped dog poop, my kids are getting new clothes, toys and video games, the smell of pumpkin muffins and cinnamon bread waft through our little house and the kids get a thrill when they see… JUNK FOOD in the reusable grocery bags. While I thought my mood wasn’t affecting anyone, something traumatic happened today:

Abby has used froot loops to make necklaces once. But we are, I am sad to say, more of a cheerios or shredded wheat family. You can just see the joy in her face when she realized that her moody mom brought home those synthetically glorious wheels of joy for her to eat, can’t you? Oh she was ecstatic! She ate three bowls! All was well….until. The very next day. She had a beautiful, if I may say, shade of aqua marine poop. She may need therapy.

I think it may be time for me to rethink my coping habits. Until then… anyone need some homemade brownies?

How do y’all cope? I need some fresh ideas.

Love y’all!

C

PS: Our home study is complete… now we wait on God’s timing.

life in overcast

3 weeks. 3 friends. 3 miscarriages.

Today is Miscarriage and Infant loss Remembrance  Day. The last month, I have shouted with joy for three friends who began a new pregnancy journey. All three have suffered previous losses. All three are now suffering again. It makes me feel ill. Literally ill.

I have nothing pithy or fun to say today. I just wanted to let those of you in pain… new or lingering…know  that I care. We care. You are not alone.

Sleep well:

Alexander (Lindsee’ precious little one)

Eli

Erica’s Angel

Alex ( Kat’s sweet baby)

Sharon’s 7 Angels

Amber’s 2 Angels

Lily  (Lori’s sweet little girl)

Kim’s 2 Angel babies

Amy’s Angels

and all the other babies loved SO much and missed.

Prayer request… and a quick update

Ok y’all… I mentioned Sharon on my blog more than a few times… last mention she was going through her frozen embryo transfer. Well, today (actually late last night for those of us in the States) she found out that she is indeed pregnant. While I have jumped and clapped like a 3 year old in sheer happiness, I still want to ask y’all for prayer. Sharon has had many losses and we need to pray that she is allowed to carry to term and have the joy that so many of us have experienced. SO.. lets pray for Sharon.

As for me? We have two more Saturdays full of classes, then we will be done! I am hoping that we will be licensed and ready to go by my birthday! We are getting excited. Abby is too. She has been practicing loving on babies by taking out all of her babies (all of whom are named Lyla..) and diapering them, singing to them and wearing them in her tiny Moby wrap. It’s terribly cute.

Today is week 2 of her new dance class and she has had her tap shoes on since breakfast. The rain has been awful here, so I am just hoping we can make the drive to the tiny town that houses the best little dance studio in Central Indiana.

How is everyone? update me!

Love y’all! And thanks for praying for my friend!

CeCe

Totally Random Tuesday!!!!! (she’s baaaack)

It’s been too dang long since I had a TRT… and while it’s actually 2 hours past Tuesday here (hmm that would be an awesome band name) I am in a random mood. So.. away we go.

• Larry’s car is under the weather so he has been using my minivan for commuting to school on Wednesdays. WHAT is it about not being able to leave the house that makes me WANT to leave the house?
• Some old woman  wearing one of those plastic hair protection bonnets sneered at me yesterday because I was jumping in puddles with Abby. Little does she know that I would have jumped in them even if I were sans child. The kid just makes it seem a smidgen more acceptable.
• On that note:  I think we need to start a national plastic hair protection bonnet wearing day. OOOOOH!! and a “wrap your head in toilet paper while you sleep to save your ‘do’ day.” My MawMaw would have loved those holidays.
• Abby has a new game… one she plays over and over and over: she places her kitty beanie baby on the love seat. Hides. Makes Mom (NaNa) close her eyes, count to ten then say “Oh DEAR! that baby kitten is hanging off a cliff! Where oh WHERE is Abby the rescuer?” Abby saves said kitten from its certain death, asks me if she can keep it, I say yes. Rinse, repeat. I keep trying to get Mom to pretend she has fallen asleep in her eye closing countdown, but she can’t keep from laughing. I guess I know where my inability to bluff comes from.
• I have gathered some baby clothes and will be buying a crib this week for our new life as foster parents… and, in all the preparation and shopping.. I haven’t once felt cheated, grief, or the pain I guess I was halfway expecting. Life moves on. And maybe I have with it. That’s new. And good.
• James and I went to see Tyler Perry’s new movie “I can do bad all by myself” mainly because we LOVE Tyler Parry… also a good old friend who started/restarted her singing career at my old coffee house had a song in it. Ruthie Foster is an amazing voice… and outstanding woman. SO  proud to know her.
• I am ready… SO ready to be licensed to foster/adopt. We are extremely lucky to have the agency we do. I hope they know how blessed we are to have them on this journey.
• On that note (again): We could, financially, go straight to private adoption. And I am sure many of our loved ones are wondering why we aren’t. We have been called. I don’t know the whys or hows of it… but I do know we have been called specifically to this. It is evident to us that we are on the right path when we witness the passion and authenticity within our agency’s leader ( and two of his coworkers). I often wonder if he knows that he is changing the world.
• I sent Sombra Kermit songs all afternoon today. WHO doesn’t feel green from time to time? I also sang the Varuca Salt song from WIllie Wonka on her voicemail last week. ( I want to lock it all UP in my pocket, Its My bar of CHOCOLATE! Give it to me NOOOW) Also… made a mix CD for my neighbor friend with songs that relate to foster parenting and healing the broken child.  Which? Also has Kermit songs? I have issues am SO thoughtful.
• I have spiritual and emotional dyslexia, I think.  Believing is seeing. I was watching this abysmal movie last night called “Screen Door Jesus” (no, not joking) and there was this line that stuck with me… paraphrased: cop says ” the human brain is programmed to see patterns in random things.” Lady retorts; “could it be that God made us that way so we could better see His face?”  Interesting. I have often wondered that. It’s one of the few theological debates that doesn’t make my head hurt.
• If believing IS seeing (which, y’all it so is), in what have you seen God in today?

As Always, if you have a prayer need, let me know.

Sharon needs our prayers as she gets ready for her frozen embryo transfer later this week.

Love y’all!

CeCe

When’s it gonna be MY turn?

If you have drawn breath and made it through the first 10 years of life, you have asked that very question. As a twin, I shared just about eveything as a child. Taking turns is a part of life.

If you have gone through infertility, you might ask yourself, ask God, ask your doctor “when’s it gonna be MY turn” on a monthly if not daily basis. Someone very dear to my heart is going through a frozen cycle of IVF this month and I hope you join me in praying for her.

As many of you know, Hubs and I are taking classes to be foster parents and maybe .. possibly adopt. There are moments as of late when I get a little upset with myself for ever putting myself, my family (and hair) through infertility treatments. We always knew, as a couple, that we would be foster parents at some point. What was so hard about allowing it to be a now thing? I guess we first needed to know what it felt like to see hope as an enemy. I guess, maybe we needed to remember what it feels like to ask that childlike question. I know that the past two and a half years have been more about finding peace in losing Eli. Which also, in its own way, has prepared us to foster children. There is a gift in losing a child… as odd as that sounds. We know now, without a doubt, that our children are only ours on loan. They belong to something much bigger than us and the very best thing we can do is love them… with wild abandon…. for as long as we can.

Now, if we are all being honest with ourselves… if the glow from our computer screens fully illuminate where we are on our journeys… we know that we always have some “when’s it gonna be My turn” desires.  But we are adults, fully capable of waiting  and coping when we don’t get what we want.

I know I am rambling on and on tonight. But here comes my point…

A dear old friend, Michelle has a son who is seriously ill. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the toll it must take on her and her family because she is just always so kind and centered. Her son Austin is having continuous seizures which have affected his life and functionality in too many ways to count. When is it going to be his turn to be healed? After reading Michelle’s latest blog post, I literally stamped my feet and asked that out loud. ( then, in super stalker form, tracked down her home number to leave her a message)  Michelle needs our support and prayers. Please visit her blog and show her the love y’all show me.

I love y’all!

CeCe

sticks and stones…

I never understood that adage. “Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.” What a ginormous load of crap that is. Words shape who we are forever. Kind words mold our self image. Not so kind words reinforce our already painful insecurities.

Growing up with Scleroderma shaped who I am today… mainly by misshaping my body.  Many of you have never seen me in person and have no idea what Scleroderma is. Those of you who know me, may have, over the years, asked me why my hands look similar to those seen in horror movies or on 90 year old arms. When I was a teen, while my friends were planning their weddings, I silently worried that my bent fingers would never host a wedding ring. It wasn’t enough that I was seriously ill months out of the school year, but I also looked like a total freak.

But kids are resilient. I adapted. Made do. And made friends. My hands have held children, worn wedding rings, delivered babies, saved lives, written love letters and folded together in deep prayer. My hands, in all of their bendy glory, have helped shape who I am today.

I was a child with a disability. I just never saw myself as one. Different? yup. Disabled? not so much. I assumed that I was simply accepted and my general dislike for myself was a teen phase and wholly a “CeCe” thing.

UNTIL…

Being open and up front with friends and relatives about the desire to adopt and/or foster a disabled baby has brought up some serious ugly. I won’t sugarcoat it for them and I won’t for y’all. We are wanting special needs babies because we want to make whatever small difference we can. We are not famous, we do not have power to change world views.. and really? We don’t want that. We just want to be a safe soft place to land for babies or children who need that. To make comments about taking on too much, the burden that a child with disabilities can be, the stares we may or may not get when in public is offensive.

If not us, who? If not now, when? Can I manage? With these hands… I can do ANYthing.

I love y’all!

CeCe

ETA: I have been in remission  from systemic Scleroderma since 1992. I will always have the joint structure and pain that goes with tissue contractures… but I am not in life threatening crisis. Though MANY are. SO stop worrying about me. But as women? Its high time we get active and outspoken when it comes to autoimmue diseases.

Saying Grace…

While I have told y’all that I am all “me’d” out from the past few weeks, there is something that I really need to share with you, my tens of readers…

What do you call those moments when you realize that God has a plan for you and is working out the details? You know, those moments or circumstances that are SO coincidental that they no longer can possibly BE coincidence? What IS that?

It’s Grace y’all! Grace is something we talk about a lot as Christians, as women, heck, as Oprah watchers. ( I personally do not watch Oprah… can’t stand her)

Since moving to this tiny/big town after leaving the little church that wouldn’t… I have come to be good friends with God working in our lives.. a friend I can only assume is Grace.

First? I have a devoted reader ( I still can’t get over that y’all like to read what I have to say) that I have always known was placed in my life for some reason. She just speaks to my heart. If we’re being honest, several of you have become tenants of my heart: Shawna, Rachel, Sharon, Michelle ( who I have known forever.. but am just getting to realizing that she is one amazing woman), Lindsay, Sam, and Kay.  I think of and pray for you often.

Ahem… sorry, it’s the middle of the night and I am chatting and half awake.. dangerous combo. Kay, though, is someone I think of regularly. She is such a strong woman who, frankly, has not been dealt the most awesome of cards in her life. Yet, she loves with wild abandon and lives when most of us would be hiding under the covers. She doesn’t know it, but she has had a real affect on how I see my children and who I see as someone who *MIGHT* be one of our children. I don’t want to talk about it yet, but God is up to something. Grace.

Also? We moved in to the cute little house I told y’all all about months ago. I hate the kitchen… but I love… we LOVE our neighbors. We are blessed to live next to a lovely couple that I cannot for the life of me understandhow we have lived in the Midwest all these years and survived without them. The wife is quickly becoming a close friend. Not only is she the one who convinced us that we CAN foster parent and adopt.. that we are worthy… but she is just an awesome person. Can y’all believe the pastor’s wife found a bona fide face to face friend?!?!? I had become so used to the sinking lonely feeling that maybe I would never get to laugh until I snorted with someone outside of my house again. She has blessed us SO much. Her husband is walking talking hilarity and James and Larry adore him. ( I like him too, of course, but the boys  have needed a guy friend) Can you imagine? Just three months ago, I was telling y’all that we knew we were done with trying to get pregnant, but we just knew that God wasn’t done with our parenting plans… then.. poof. Friend AND advocate? Seriously, someone to love me for me and share my heart for children… who is female and doesn’t treat me like the preacher’s wife. Nothing but Grace.

I just wanted to share with y’all that my prayers have been answered… and God is revealing himself in some amazing people. And it’s because people like you prayed for someone like me. Thank you, y’all and thank You Our Eternal Daddy!

Where have you found Grace today? Tell me!

checking in…

I am such a neglectful blogger. I am sorry.

After writing 17 pages of autobiographical information for our homestudy, I am just me’ed out. I seriously think that I I have to write one more sentence about me, I might puke.

I do have some things to say though.. so consider this a Thuroughly Random Thursday:

• I have a very good friend who is expecting and I am SO happy for her! She is a great mommy already to two little princesses and my gut is saying this one may just have a picnic attachment. Pray for her during her pregnancy?

• Larry has a new student at his seminary. And y’all? It is someone we loved to hate years back when the first season of apprentice. Anyone got a guess? Omarosa! I wish her luck on her journey… and will work hard to erase my preconceived notions of her.

• Speaking on conception, I have two friends who are about to try to get pregnant in September or October. Can you please pray for Rachel and Sharon?

• Abby has been going through this phase ( please God, let this be a phase) of not wanting to sleep. Like at all. I have seen dawn before closing my eyes more in the past few weeks than I have since working 3rd shift on the L&D floor. I think she is going through a growth spurt physically AND learning to read. That can really mess with this girl’s sleep schedule.

• I have a physical tomorrow for our home study. It’s been so long since I had a regular physical, I hope I don’t accidentally strip from the waist down. Oh,Larry has to have one too.  Turn. Cough. Hahahahaah!

• I need y’all to pray for my friend Michelle and her family… specifically Austin. He is on a new med that seems to be controlling his seizures better. But if we all prayed? maybe we could get him seizure free? It’s a goal.

• I have stopped the diet for the time being… I was getting too obcessed and Abby was starting to ask “Mommy? how many calories does this have?”  Time to rethink our approach.

• We start our classes for special needs/therapeutic foster care/ adoption Sept 1st. I am excited and scared and giddy all at one time.

I want to know what I can pray for when it comes to you. I know that sometimes we get so wrapped up in our lives that we forget that we have fellowship. I want to pray for each of you. Just let me know what you are needing.

Love y’all,

CeCe

Marco………?

Polo.

I am here y’all, I promise. I have been spending some quite time with Our Daddy as of late… and trying to figure out what He is saying in terms of adoption. It’s been an odd place, if we’re being honest. Can you imagine trying to write a profile for someone to read and decide that you are worthy of their child? I have never been good at “selling” myself. I have spoken to countless adoption agencies, lawyers, and everyone in between. We have found one agency/ non profit that we trust with our hearts for a child… and most importantly, our hearts for Jesus. I love these people and what they stand for. And I promise I will post, in detail, about them this week.

But this morning… as I edit the “Cecelia” portion of our profile, it hit me. We try SO hard to measure up in this earthly life. Are we skinny enough? Kind enough? Fun enough? Saved enough? Saved enough… You know what I mean here, y’all?

That feeling that if we just try a little harder, if we do more good than bad… if we set aside time to pray for more than the fleeting moments of “Dear Jesus, help me ____. Or God, help my friend____” then maybe, just maybe we would feel worthy of God’s love and Salvation.

It’s not a healthy way to live, no. But it’s a place we have all been. Where do you feel like you need to be perfect? Are you a perfect parent? A perfect child to your parents? A perfect employee? A perfect child of God?

Perfect is not us. Perfect was, is and will always be the Christ Son on the tree.

Yesterday, Abby woke up at 6AM to tell me something that she thought was urgent.

“Mommy? You know how you say that Jesus loves everyone ALL the time?”

“He sure does sweetie”

“Well, Jesus and I have been talking a LOT lately,Mom. And I am relatively certain that I am His favorite.”

While she may be a bit off base… and SUPER confident… it made me giggle… and thank Our Daddy that he would rather die than to live without us.

I love y’all!

CeCe

PS: Amy and precious baby Moxie went home this week.. aside from some apnea issues, both are doing very well. Thank you all for praying and THANK YOU Jesus!

A Dear Birth Mom Letter

This is what I have been working on… and it should give y’all some insight as to where we are headed. I guess at some point I need to change my blog description, huh?

I want to thank you all SO much for being an ear(eye) during this journey and I hope you stick around as our journey takes another wonderful turn.

Love y’all!

CeCe

******************************************************************

Dear Caring Mother,

Before we share our story with you, we want to first tell you how grateful we are that you have chosen life for your child. Whether you have been Christian all of your life, just beginning your life in relationship with Jesus, or unsure about just where you stand, we want you to know that we are thankful, SO very thankful to God for you. We cannot begin to imagine the pain and fear you must be feeling. But know that whether we ever meet face to face, whether you decide we are or aren’t the family for your baby, or whether you decide that you can parent your baby, we will pray for you. Yes, we are on an adoption journey and wanting a special baby to shower our love on, but we are also on our life journey and just knowing that women like you are choosing life is something to celebrate and praise. So, no matter what, your heart for your child has touched us.

Our desire to adopt a special needs child stems from many different areas of our lives and hearts. Larry was an addiction counselor and has a Masters degree in Psychology. He also has a strong desire to live out what he preaches in church. Cecelia started working with special needs children in her high school years as a summer camp counselor for a non-profit camp that catered to children with a wide range of disabilities. She also has a medical background and has cared for newborns and infants with various health issues. Cecelia’s mother, who the children call NaNa, was a special needs school counselor for 25 years before she retired. We are more than capable to advocate and care for a special needs child. But our desire to welcome a precious special needs child into our home has little to do with our qualifications. We have so much love to give, and who is more deserving of an overabundance of love and attention than a little one with so many challenges? We want to be a part of a miracle. We want to share in your miracle. I know you may not feel this way today, but you are a special part, a very important part of a miracle.

Meet Larry’s Wife:

My wife – Cecelia is a stay at home mom and can’t think of anything she would rather do than care for her family. She is an extremely kind woman who goes out of her way to help friends and strangers alike. She is very intelligent and has a laugh that gets the whole family giggling. Before children, she was a medical professional. Now her fulltime job is raising children.  Most days her schedule includes taking the kids to the park. Playing games, painting, baking or making mudpies are some of her favorite kid time activities. She is a supportive wife, an amazing mom and a true friend to many. She wants to welcome a special child into our loving home more than anything.

Meet Cecelia’s Husband:

My husband – Larry is a pastor and loves answering the call that God gave him. He is blessed to be in a church denomination that provides rock solid job security. In this economy, it’s nice to know we are safe from layoffs. Larry is an intelligent and kind man. He is an involved parent who often schedules his days so that he can have lunch at home and be present for dance classes, model rocket launches and doctor’s appointments. His priorities are evident when you see him with the kids. He is the love of my life and extremely excited about adopting.

We love being parents! We have two wonderful biological children. Our son is 14 and our daughter is 4. Our teen (James) is an aspiring inventor and can make just about anything electronic with an Altoids box. And our 4 year old (Abby) is our resident Candy Land shark. We haven’t won a game yet against her. We take several short weekend vacations a year and one large week long vacation a year. It is extremely important to us that we provide a childhood full of wonderful memories. We want our children to see the Grand Canyon, Disney, Yellow Stone and Washington D.C. at least once in their childhood. Living in the Midwest allows our children to see all four seasons. Snow is, of course, their favorite. We try to never let a learning opportunity pass us by as parents, and more importantly, we never forget why we do this: Love.

We lost a baby very late into our last pregnancy two years ago and are no longer able to conceive children. Our hearts always knew we wanted to adopt a special baby, and after some time for healing our hearts, we are ready to open them up to the forever child that God has planned for us.

Our housing situation is one of the benefits of being a pastor’s family. We are provided a nice house with a backyard and all of the special requirements needed to pass ADA standards. No matter what church we serve, we will always have suitable housing for a family with special needs. Larry’s church denomination takes extremely good care of their pastors and we are very grateful for that. We are and will always be close to regional hospitals and various specialists.

As a pastor’s family, we cannot offer Sundays full of sleeping late and football games, but we can offer lullabyes, story time, sit down meals, mud pies in the back yard, and a life filled with as much love as there are challenges.

Thank you so much for considering us,
Cecelia and Larry

Major Announcement…..

***update of sorts– I haven’t written anything on here because I am trying to get together a Dear Birthmom letter and bio… How do you put into words “Thank you SO much for being so unselfish and allowing us to see hope as an friend again and not the enemy????”*****

I have written, erased and rewritten this post 13 times now in the last three weeks.  I am one for always being authentic and exposed when it comes to this blog. And try as I might, I cannot fully express the magnitude of the emotions behind our major announcement. We are scared. We are humbled. We are hopeful. And we are 100% committed.

How many times have I mentioned that I am not very good at listening to the still calm voice? Well, Hubs and I have been listening.

I will share with y’all a much more in depth post on this new journey later this week… but for now…..
We are no longer going to try to conceive. We are going to foster parent and possibly adopt. We are exploring out options and praying hard on which path to take. Pray for us?

CeCe

PS if you know any good adoption blogs… link me.

This woman’s work.

I never blog about the TV shows I watch. Not for any reason… other than if I allowed myself to blog about tv.. I would hide behind that daily. It’s SO much easier to chat about entertainment than for me to show my heart and soul. And this blog is a place where I can share my heart… dreams… love for each of you and sometimes my humiliating moments (like yesterday’s post). Between my writing style, rebellion against all things grammar, and crazy and sometimes vapid life.. I still don’t fully grasp why any of you read. But I am thankful for the fellowship.

Tonight.. something remarkable happened. Summertime is my guilty pleasure season when it comes to the boob tube. I love and I mean LOVE “Saving Grace” and “Nurse Jackie.” But my first love.. my first television summer fling was with “SO You Think You Can Dance.” Yes, I KNOW this makes me a dork. Yes I am aware that I cannot dance to save my life. But Y’all? This show brings me joy.

I was completely taken aback tonight when a song that brings forth SO much pain and poetry in my very heart was showcased…

I know many of you reading have never dealt with miscarriage, infant loss, infertility and the indescribable pain that type of daily battle brings. (Oh, and anyone who thinks pregnancy loss, infant loss or infertility isn’t a daily battle hasn’t lived through it.) Some of my readers have walked the shoreline of this breed of grief. I say shoreline in the most deliberate way. The pain comes in waves.. most days are calm and manageable. Then, there are days when the waves pound and threaten to drag you under.

My RE once explained to me how the inability to conceive or carry to term is very much akin to having cancer. Sounds trite, doesn’t it? And I would never try to belittle the horrible anguish that people with such a senseless disease must live with. But, in many ways, I think Dr D was right on. You live everyday trying to beat the odds. You try to see your body as a vessel but really? You see it was a great betrayal. You feel broken. Your whole life is pills, shots, cycle days, appointments and running. Running from what? From every little or huge setback. Hope is your enemy and your best friend. Its a hard hard life.

There isn’t a day that I don’t think about Eli. Just as I know there isn’t a moment Shaz and Sam don’t miss their angels or feel the deep need to hold the babies they SO deserve. There isn’t a minute that Amber doesn’t miss her precious angel and long for her arms to be full. It hurts. Make it go away.

The song “This Woman’s Work” has been my secret ( I guess until now) grief song. I have songs that lift me up and give me peace with all of this. Songs that remind me of God’s love and plan for me. But this song? Is my guilty pleasure and pain. When I feel like I need to let er rip. When I need to express my immeasurable grief and fear? When the waves are crashing in and I am scared of what will happen if I don’t just let go for a while? ( I have discovered , with the help of Sombra’s wording, that when I eat my pain? All I get is indigestion) When I need to let myself tear down so I can rebuild… I listen to this song.

Tonight, a dance and story was added and it was amazing. I sobbed. But for the first time in a long long time… I didn’t cry alone. Watch it, y’all. Let it go for a little while. And think of yourself as the super strong Ade. Holding the scared, sad, fragile woman up. Just like y’all hold me.

I love y’all.

C

PS: the whole song is here. Listen to it.

Lyrics:

Pray God you can cope.
I stand outside this woman’s work,
This woman’s world.
Ooh, it’s hard on the man,
Now his part is over.
Now starts the craft of the father.

I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.

I should be crying, but I just can’t let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can’t stop thinking

Of all the things I should’ve said,
That I never said.
All the things we should’ve done,
That we never did.
All the things I should’ve given,
But I didn’t.

Oh, darling, make it go,
Make it go away.

Give me these moments back.
Give them back to me.
Give me that little kiss.
Give me your hand.

(I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.)

I should be crying, but I just can’t let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can’t stop thinking

Of all the things we should’ve said,
That were never said.
All the things we should’ve done,
That we never did.
All the things that you needed from me.
All the things that you wanted for me.
All the things that I should’ve given,
But I didn’t.

Oh, darling, make it go away.
Just make it go away now.

Eau de crazy.

***First, I must share with you that I hate.. I mean super seriously HATE the euphemism “On the Rag” and always have. I mean ew. I much prefer Aunt Flo if we have to give that craptastic 5-7 days of sheer hell a name. If we are being totally honest? I think we “give” our periods way too much to begin with: cute nicknames, Pain relievers marketed solely for her, a million choices in tampons, pads and umm.. alternative gadgets of doom, and even special panties. There are months when I wish we could invoke Biblical rules and Hubs would send me away to bleed alone and in peace. I have often told him to build me a hut. With a wine chiller. ***

I sometimes wonder if there is a special population of people, women in particular, that emit some type of pheramone that attracts seriously odd people. I, my friends, am one of those ever so lucky emitters. I will never forget the evening at Starbucks, when I was trying to get in one last deadline before Abby was scheduled to arrive. A women sat next to me, asked how far along I was… what I was working on… and then, within 2 minutes of sitting far too close to me, blurted out that she was a hermaphrodite. Yay. Thank YOU for sharing with me. I never made that deadline. Something about her words made it impossible to finish a review of the new hottest dining experience in Houston.

Moving to the Midwest has been a serious change for all of us. There are so many aspects of Southern living that I miss. I miss good food, great churches, fun people, folklore and hospitality. If you aren’t from the South, it’s hard to describe accurately. Southerners talk in the grocery lines, we smile and chat with children who *GASP* aren’t ours and share advice… most times, unsolicited.  In the Midwest, no one chats with strangers, no one talks to your kids, and no one EVER gives cheery advice on anything. This Midwest place is a very repressed society. Something that took me years to get used to.

Because of these unspoken rules here in the dust bowl, I was taken by surprise when a lovely woman today spoke to me in the checkout line…

” You should really try Glad Rags.”

At first, I didn’t realize she was addressing me. Three more attempts …

“Miss? You should REALLY try Glad Rags.”

I looked up and smiled. I was so taken off guard that someone SPOKE to me in line. I secretly wanted to hug her. I restrained myself. Although, I am sure she could see the childlike glee in my eyes.

“Really? Why?” I responded

“They are SO much better for the environment! You will LOVE them.” She said

I hadn’t gotten much today. A few lean pocket boxes, diet sodas, tampons for impending period and paper towels. So I assumed she was pitching her favorite paper towels.

“Oh! I am all for saving the environment, I try to buy green as much as I can. That’s why I buy these paper towels. Recycled, see? They are a little thin so when I know it’s going to be a mess, I just fold them up and they work for me just fine.”

That’s when she clammed up. And she looked at me… like I looked at my Starbucks buddy some 4 years ago. ( And many many more freaky over sharers since, I am sure) hmmmm.

What. the. heck.did.I. SAY?

Once home, with the groceries all in the proper place, I did what any curious woman would. Google.

OH MY LAWD!

I don’t know what disturbs me more… the notion of tossing a soiled, nasty, blood soaked (albeit cute) pad into my family’s washing machine…. or that my big mouth and me made some woman believe that I fold recycled paper towels into some sort of feminine hygiene origami project!!!!!

Dollars to doughnuts, she never speaks to another fellow shopper, is blogging about this encounter, and telling people that she attracts the strangest people… must be something she emits.  Maybe I am just doing my part in keeping the Midwest repressed.

Moxie has….. MOXIE!!!!!!!!

Amy delivered Moxie last night at around 8 EST. And y’all? aside from needed a little cpap ( a little forced air through her nose to help inflate her tiny lungs)  Moxie and Amy are doing great! Ever wonder if your prayers are heard? Ever wonder if God is still performing great miracles? Ever think there is just too much for Him to do than to listen to you? Well… they ARE, He DID, and He IS!!!!

Thank you so much for getting on your knees for my friend and my newest neice!

Love love LOVE y’all,

C

Amy and Moxie update and prayer request..

Been emailing Amy off and on all day and I need to keep y’all up to date, I know. But I am so emotional over this all that the best I can do is copy and paste and ask that if you can, if you are led to, spend some time on your knees for my oldest friend and her baby. I keep flashing back to our summer visit some 23 years ago.. young, innocent and so sure that the world was ours .. if we just worked hard enough for it. Amy is a true heart, and let me tell y’all, she has been handed some serious plates of poo in her life, but her faith has rarely wavered. Her love has never failed.. and she has always known God has a plan for her. I thought the hardest conversation we would ever have was the night I told her that our Eli had died. But this is so much harder. Amy and I share so many things… family dynamics, writing careers, love of seriously bad music, disabilities… I just want need her to not share the pain of losing this baby. Pray, my friends, please pray.

Here is a condensed version of our emails today:

Amy: I can’t do this.  I’m trying to write a birth plan.  I’m so scared Cece.  MMIH is still a possibility, can’t be ruled out until birth but all the soft markers by u/s are pointing that it’s not MMIH.  They are going to let me deliver in Boulder but we’re going to have a planned c-sec so #1 the neo nates are there, #2 I don’t blow my other implant out of my head pushing #3 prior placental abruption.  I need to address my communication needs, desires for birth and after care and also include comfort compassionate care wishes in case some is really wrong.  I just cannot wrap my brain around it.  I’m going over and over everything that went wrong and everything that went right when I had Whit.  I’m just sobbing thinking that maybe, just maybe we’ll be bringing home our baby girl.  I don’t care how she makes it into our arms.  Sorry, just having a rough go of it all.

Me:You want video to be permitted in the OR for Clay to record… just in case things dont go well so that you have that tangible memory of her birth.
You want the entire team (nurses especially) to be briefed on the possibilities so that everyone is kind and caring and knows why you are freaking out pre op.
You want a chaplain/priest on hand for baptism as soon as possible
You want Precious Memories to be on call in case
You want as little mind altering meds via IV as possible… so you can be as present as possible.
As soon as permitted, you want to nurse Moxie
You want footprints and hand/feet molds done (compassionate care should have them)
You want a private room that is big enough for two full size beds…. so if the kids want to sleep over they can (its been hard on them too and they need the people there to recognize that)
You want meals for Clay brought in so he doesnt have to leave if he doesn’t want to
You need to have a letter written for each nurse to read before she enters your room explaining the situation whether Moxie does super well or not

How is that for starters?

If you need me, I am here

Amy: It means so much that I can call on you during my darkest moments.  Thanks for the suggestions, I have most of them in our “what if” comfort care plan.  I never really thought much about the actual birth itself and had no idea I could do a birth plan with a c-section.  I’m going to work on it more later when I’m not so fried and can think clearly.  I have an 8 o;clock apt. for stress test & bio physical profile.  I have a feeling they may go ahead and take me.  I’ll be sure Clay keeps you posted.  Love you, A

SO it looks to me like they may keep her and Moxie may be here very very soon. Please pray y’all.. and if you have an suggestions let me know so I can pass them on.

Today you are 14…

My wonderful son. You hate having your picture taken these days almost as much as I do. The early teen years can be are always difficult. And, I know that, some days, you don’t like yourself all that much. But I want you to know something that I have always known: You are so very very special. I know this because  I met you years before I  met myself. I know that makes no sense at all to you right now. How could it?

The afternoon you were born, while everyone was celebrating Independence Day, I was celebrating the birth of a son. A perfect, albeit mammoth size, precious son who would be named after my hero, and your Great Paw Paw. I was almost 22 and lost in so many ways… but there you were, my gift. I may have taken more than the average bear’s wrong turns in life. You and I both know I have made my share of mistakes… but on each and every leg of our journey, I have loved you more than air itself. You were and will always be my first born, my partner in crime and one of the best jobs I have ever had. James, you are so very special to  Larry, Abby and your Nana. And you are my very heart and soul. I am so proud to be your mom. But more than that? I am blessed.

The night before you were born… I had been in active labor about 39 hours already…

Once everyone left to get some sleep, I prayed. I just kept asking God to make sure you would be OK. It had been a long labor and I, knowing what could go wrong, was getting scared. I didn’t realize that I had been praying for hours until I saw the sun rise. “Please, God, just let him be Okay.”

And in the wonderful way that God works, he made sure you weren’t just Okay. You were, and are, perfect. My wonderful, beautiful, kindhearted, intelligent, funny, amazing son. Here’s to your first 14 years. Thank you for sharing them with me.

Your favorite lullaby when you were small….

Christopher Robin and I walked along
under branches lit up by the moon.
Posing our questions to owl and eeyore
as our days disappeared all too soon.
But I’ve wandered much further today than I should
and I can’t seem to find my way back to the wood.

So, help me if you can I’ve got to get
back to the house at Pooh corner by one.
You;d be surprised there’s so much to be done,
count all the bees in the hive,
chase all the clouds from the sky.
Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh.

- Kenny Loggins

Our days have dissappeared all too soon, indeed. So, try not to mind too much if I hold on tighter to the time we have left. I love you, son.

XoXoXo,

Mom

Dear Spanx… cries from a fitting room

If the past few weeks weren’t enough for me to stress over… Just in case crying after having sex with Hubs EVERY time since the IVF was canceled wasn’t fun enough… or the stinging welt of knowing chances of getting pregnant naturally are about the same as my lovely son voluntarily cleaning his room…. maybe, just maybe, I needed to heap a little extra poop on my plate.

So, I did. See? it’s 90 plus degrees here.. and I know, as a Texan, I have no room to complain… but y’all? Hot is hot. Whether it’s 90 or 190 out… as soon as your boobs start to sweat? It becomes unacceptable. Seriously. TOBwS is NO way to live. ( that’s “tits on belly with sweat” for those of you with a modicum of class) Abby has been aching to go to the public pool since we moved. And I must admit, it’s a sweet little pool. SO I caved. Yesterday, I spent the better part of the evening shopping. Most shopping missions that end in me getting something for me are days to be celebrated. In fact, I can only think of three things I could buy for myself that make me want to puke, cry, scream and set skinny people on fire. drink heavily. In order of severity:

3) tampons. They remind me of my failure to give Larry a child.

2) yeast infection cream. I feel no reason to explain this.

1) Bathing suits. Oh sweet Mother of all things humiliating. WHY? Why must a woman of my size and fashion sense be forced to cram my usually well hidden fat rolls into spandex with patterns and shelf bras?

First, someone explain to me why the vast majority of suits with skirts and fuller breast cups were all size 10 and under? If I were a size 10? I would walk around naked. Sadly? I am totally serious. Second, someone illustrate the need for plus size bathing suits to be high cut in the legs and Lowwww cut in the chest?  After trying on the 5th suit, I decided… I needed a tent. And a stiff drink. Hubs and Abby tagged along for the first few stores… at one point Hubs could hear me gasp and start to weep from outside the fitting room. Abby, of course, was in the tiny mirrored cubicle of hell with me. (WHO needs to see their butt from 8 different angles?)

“Oh honey, it can’t be THAT bad. Let me see.” Hubs said

” Do NOT even THINK of touching that door. NO one needs to see this.” I hissed in fine premenstrual form.

“Daddy, don’t! She looks really bad. Her boobies look broken.” shouts my ever so helpful, albeit loud child.

And y’all? Abby was so right. I am a one-piece kinda girl. And trust me, the world thanks me for that. Problem is, my breasts are… well, my wonderful friends call them “the enTITTIES” and in order to get the top to fit, the bottom sags and shows more than anyone other than Hubs and my RE need see. After 3 hours of trying on stretchy vessels of hell, I was in tears. I took Hubs and Abby home and set off for Sears. I am 35… so it’s been… let’s see…. 30 years since I bought clothing from Sears? I just knew they wouldn’t have the suit for me.

The fat and short of it all is…. Sears came through for me! I found a cute suit that hides my outward imperfections. ( my inner imperfections cannot be hidden and are another post.) And??? My bunnies are covered! Money well spent. After contemplating a) going on the Karen Carpenter diet b) committing suicide by ho ho overdose c) paying to rent out the pool for just us and a hand-full of blind people, I sucked it up and took Abby to the pool today.

I may not have felt like a super model, but I was by far not the largest mom there. I wasn’t even the largest kid. And, some of you may relate to this… I have an invisible sign that says ” hey kid, I won’t ignore you like your white trash neglectful mom” and tend to attract several young kids when at the park or pool. So, I am happy to announce that not only did the suit cover my rolls, but even with 3 extra children holding onto me in various areas, the bunnies stayed in their cages.

I can’t say I am happy with being scantily clad in public, or fully enjoy frolicking in chlorinated pee water… but until I can convince Spanx to make swim wear, I will live to swim another day. Dressing rooms? that a whole ‘nother story.

Love,

CeCe

For Larry…

Teacher. Explorer. Gentle hero.

Mentor. Good Friend. Shining example.

Wonderful Son in Law. Caregiver.

Best chance this woman ever took.

You have a lot of titles… but none as important as “Daddy”

Happy Father’s Day to my best friend.

I love you so much,

CeCe

hero

God ROCKS!!!!

We are almost done packing and start the great pilgrimage tomorrow…. so I don’t have time to shave much less come up with a great post. (not that any of my posts are great) BUT I did get some news from Amy today about her and Moxie and I couldn’t not share it. Y’all… want proof that prayer works??? This is from Amy:

“Home at last!  Praise the Lord, Moxie looked good today.  They are being so much more optimistic.  Her liver still has something funky going on but her bladder is not as enlarged and they are hopeful it is NOT MMIH!!!!  They took some fluid off but it seems like some of her issues may have been due to my sepsis and are resolving.  The amnio and fluid reduction did make me start contracting so I spent all day in L&D but things settled down and they let me go home.   Oh happy day!!!”

Thank you…. each of you for praying for my friend Amy and little Moxie! And Thank you Abba for healing her!

I will let yall know when we get settled into our new digs. Love y’all!

CeCe

Baby mine.

Dear Eli,

Its been two years now since the last time I felt you kick. Two years since our journey as one ended and our journey of the heart began. I miss you every minute of every single day. I feel you here with us. And yet? at the same time.. I can almost see you cradled in the arms of Jesus. You would be SO proud of your Daddy, sweetie. He is such a good pastor and an amazing man in general. And you helped make him that. Your big brother, James is growing into a truly remarkable young man. And your sister, Abby, still talks about you when we are alone and she is in one of her quiet moods. I love you SO much, my beautiful angel. Rest well and perfectly.

I love you forever

I like you for always

As long as I’m living

My baby you’ll be.

-Robert N Munsch

Love Always,

Mommy

*********************************************************************************************************

I have been hibernating for a while. I am so sorry. I kinda feel like I have been neglecting y’all. But my Mama always said “when you don’t have anything nice to say…”

Two years ago today….

A journey ended. A heart stopped. A life ( an entire family’s life) came to an abrupt halt as a woman fell to her knees on an ER floor and begged for God to spare her son. She called her best friend in the world on the drive home and spoke her fears, her weaknesses. ” I am NOT strong enough for this. I CANNOT DO this.” she sobbed. “But God IS” her friend said as she herself sobbed.

*****Tangent****

I may never know why God placed Sombra in my life. But y’all? apart from my children, mother and Hubs? she is the best grace God has ever shown me. In each of my  defining moments, the good and the tragic, she has been my reminder of God’s providence. SO much more as well… but nothing less. Thank you Sombra for being such a huge part of my life, my family and our hearts.

******Tangent ends******

Now, I know that woman on the ER floor was me. But that’s the thing. She WAS me. I was the woman who woke up knowing her son had just passed away in her womb. I was the woman wrapped up in a blanket of total darkness and grief. But today, as I celebrate Eli’s Homecoming, I celebrate the two year mark of a different kind of journey. I have spent the last two years living, loving my family, reaching out to friends (old and new) and trying to get pregnant.. but that is just the shared journey. I love each of you and my family more than I can express in words. But this journey that I have kept hidden, wasn’t one I could… or in all honesty would want to … share with anyone other than God and Eli. Hubs has a parallel journey and our paths merge at times (which is comforting and yet bittersweet) but something so intimate is hard to express. Its exhausting, actually. Its been two years of recovery…. two years of growing closer  to Our Daddy and two years of  a progressively deeper true ordained love between Hubs and I. And yet? those are topics I can expound on with ease.

What I am finding hard to express to y’all is…. it has been two years, tonight, since I started letting Eli go. And it may be 100 years until I can fully. Its a journey. We walk, Eli and I, on a little path. And I know I need to let him run down this tiny red dirt trail and be free. But I just cannot let him go. He is in every baby’s smile I see, he is in Abby’s laughter, Hub’s eyes and James’ tender heart. So we walk. And I try to let Eli run ahead. Knowing one day, I will catch up to him.

I love y’all,

CeCe

random updates on a rather boring life?

I know I have been hiding. Truth is, I am having a hard week/month/moment/hour… I don’t know. I have been pretty good at keeping mum and not irritating everyone with my complaints. Except maybe Shawna and Sombra, who both know my business more than they probably wanna. SO I wanna give ya’ll the t.v. guide version of a synopses of the last few days:

Sombra’s wedding was the best. I can honestly say I have never seen God SO glorified at a wedding in my life. There are no words that can express my gratitude to God that I was allowed to witness such a wonderful moment. I need to write a whole post about it… but I am still letting it soak in… like sunlight.

Our last Sunday at the “little church that wouldn’t” was fairly uneventful. Hubs was super courteous and calm and I bit my tongue for the most part. Ok… I did show my butt a little when church was over… but some things HAD to be said. I basically just asked them where the fruit of their spirit  was… where Christ was in the building they call church. I told them I would pray for them and thanked them for the learning experience… BUT I also mentioned/asked that if they want to railroad the next pastor and his family that they at least do him the honor of telling him to his face and give him the time allowed by LAW to find another position and … hmmm I dunno… a HOME.

We did find a sweet little stone cottage in a beautiful college town in eastern Indiana to call home while Hubs finishes up seminary. It will be SO nice to have one year to not be the pastor’s wife -to enjoy- before the next 30 or so years as one.

Hubs has been in Chicago all week for an inner city ministry immersion. And man OH man, Its been not so easy here… trying to pack and organize with the help of a 4 year old. Its like I take 4 steps forward and 14 back. Ugggh.

I am not pregnant. I had a 10 day period, in fact. We are done trying for a year or so. And I would love to tell y’all that I am ok with that. But…. I am not. I am SO sad.

Amy is so heavy on my heart that, at moments during the day… and in the middle of the night, I feel like I can barely breathe. I just DO NOT understand it. I know, I am not supposed to understand things of providence… but it hurts SO much knowing that she is hurting and I can fully say “I know how you feel” yet I can do nothing for her. I am a fixer, ding nabit.

James, the teen, had to be rushed to the emergency room this afternoon with what we thought might have been a kidney stone. And y’all? The huge male doc must’ve asked my poor 13 year old son 12 times “Are you SURE you’re not sexually active?”  James is SO quiet… has yet to have a real girlfriend… and was horrified at the never ending barrage of questions from this doc. I offered to leave the room, give the kid some privacy, knowing full well that James is not getting any action. My thoughts bounced between ‘ James won’t have sex until he SHOWERS regularly’ and ‘ are 13 year olds really having sex?’ Poor kid. Turns out he has a kidney infection. I keep giving high fives for finally telling the doc “um, if I HAD sex, I think I would remember it”

Eli’s 2 year angelversary is Saturday. I am so relieved that Hubs will be home for the weekend. I know he could have stayed in Chicago and done some awesome things… but he is coming home. To his wreck of a wife. He is a good man.

I am sure I will be writing a real post soon. Be patient with me?

Love y’all

CeCe

getting back to me… sort of

I am one huge ball of stress this week. I am ready to pop. But I do have some sweet news to share… Amy’s team of docs decided it was best to send her home… where she can sleep, cuddle with her kids and spend quiet time with Moxie and Our Daddy. It may not change the ultimate outcome, but it will mean she can be fully there with her whole family. And I think that’s exactly what Amy needs and Moxie deserves. Just a little time. I am still broken hearted for Amy. It still brings up some horrible buried pains for me… but Amy is getting something I would have given anything for. A few more days. Praise God for that!

And to honor Amy a little… I want to bring some smiles back to my life.. and share some with the wonderful people who have been praying for her. When I started this blog, I had like 3 readers. And ya know? that was ok. I never expected “strangers” to read. Now that more than 3 people read, James has gotten kinda quiet. I think he hopes that I won’t find some crack baby thing he did funny enough to blog about.(unlike Abby who was SO proud to tell me that she peed in the bathroom waste basket. yes. proud. yes PEED.)  Teens. So, in respect to James, I won’t post anything new about him tonight. I will just re-post a conversation we had when I first started blogging. I know Amy will read this and laugh. And I hope you might too. I love y’all.

CeCe

(incidentally? This is the post that kept me from being given the “Christian woman blog” honor… I used the word VAGINA. V-A-G-I-N-A!  VAGINA!!!!! (you can’t stop me)

**************************** re-post of  ” I was Never Good at Pie Graphs” **********************************

Ok… so I just finished watching ” The Secret Life of Bees” on DVD. The movie was just as awesome as the book and I highly suggest it. But, it is a “chick flick” which turns my 13 year old son’s stomach. I think he is scared he might grow ovaries from being emotionally moved by a woman’s movie. But, this is beside the point. While mom and I watched, wept, laughed and wept some more, James (the 13 yr old) read my blog.  I have a new demographic, I guess. Long story short…

“Mom?”

“yes hun?”

” Your blog is cool.  It’s you. but cooler. “

“what are you trying to say?”

” You make yourself out to be interesting and cool. Like you’re better than you really are.”

(insert me laughing)

” So you’re saying I am not as cool as my story?”

“It’s 90% you, mom.”

SO I sit up… trying to figure out what 10% of this isn’t really me. Or maybe I am leaving out 10%? Ok James confirms I have left out 10%. hrmmmm.

Lets see here… what faults am I not sharing.

I fart. I know ladies shouldn’t fart… but sometimes a girls got to let a good one rip. ( shout out to my bff Sombra) IN FACT? While the sweet, kind Dr D was doing an ultrasound today to make sure the catheter that , God willing, will pass embryos into my womb, can in fact pass into my uterus… I had to hold a fart. For what seemed like forever, I had my feet in the stirrups with Dr D elbow deep in his spelunking, I held that fart. While sweet, albeit far too well versed in all things fertility, Abby repeatedly said “Mommy Him is looking in your vagina” I held that fart. The good news was a) my uterus is beautiful according to Dr D .. and b) I kept that gas at bay until we were safely outside.

I have chin hair. Thank you PCOS… I have chin hair!!! This is a recent phenomenon and I am so not a fan.. but give me good lighting and strip free wax and I am good to go.

I am saddened by people who presume…people who hate… and people who classify others by their outward appearance. AND yet? I presume. I hate. I judge. Just in different ways.

I am a zit popper. I have never… not once just let a zit resolve on my face. And on fertility meds? that’s a LOT of pimples.

I forget to pee. yup. I have a busy life and sometimes… I forget. until. until its a level 1 – code red emergency. I have more than once had to pull over on a country road to “check the tires.”

When I am sad or stressed… I shop or bake… and as the wife of a pastor? I Bake more than shop.

Ok.. maybe I am now to a 95/5 ratio. I was never good at math.

a fitting verse …  Theme and Name

James 5:16 (The Message)

16-18Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed. The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with. Elijah, for instance, human just like us, prayed hard that it wouldn’t rain, and it didn’t—not a drop for three and a half years. Then he prayed that it would rain, and it did. The showers came and everything started growing again.

Moxie Goldilocks

First let me tell you the important stuff. An Update on Amy and Moxie:

The ultrasound this morning was ok… her heart is still beating, but it still looks like her liver, bladder and kidneys are in failure. The docs seem to think that it may be MMIH which would mean Moxie will not survive regardless of when she is born. Amy seems to have found a tiny patch of peace… which I thank Our Daddy for. The docs won’t even try to get an amnio until Amy’s infection is cleared up. She has fought SO hard for this baby… been so sick they had to put in a PICC line, been on bed rest, blown out her cochlear implant site from violent puking… she has fought SO hard.

As for me? The wedding was SO amazing. Seeing Sombra marry the man God chose for her was second only to my own love story, and the births of my children. She looked like a princess. And I am just so blessed to have witnessed it.

Other than that? Lets see… I tested negative and have started spotting, Larry leaves for Chicago for two weeks while I have to pack up the house, and find a place to live, AND my oldest friend is enduring something no one should ever have to. I am bouncing somewhere between numb, hysterical crying jags and angry. I am SO angry… SO sad… so confused. On one hand, I am honored to help my sister navigate these dark waters.. I really am. I know each alien feeling she is having… the desire to hold onto her baby and feel her from inside, the chest crushing fear, the sense that she’s not strong enough, the desire to let each of her children experience Moxie’s life in their own special way, the way lonely feels at night in a hospital bed, the sense of it all being so unreal, the moments when you hear yourself say “You still have time Daddy. You can still breathe life into this, into her.”  I could go on for days… but I just can’t.

I hate this. I hate that as I come up on Eli’s two year angelversary, my oldest friend, my sister of the soul… is planning for her very own angel’s arrival and departure. I HATE this.

Amy has a little boy about 3 months older than Abby and from the time he knew his Momma was having a baby, he proclaimed that the name was going to be Goldilocks… be it boy or girl… Goldilocks. Amy has decided that Moxie’s middle name will indeed be Goldilocks. And I think that feels just right.

I will update as I get them. And for the time being, my blog is solely dedicated to Moxie’s time with her mommy and with us. Thank you for praying.

CeCe

URGENT PRAYER REQUEST updated by CeCe

This is Larry, CeCe’s hubs.

Her oldest friend was told tonight that her 29-week baby will most likely not make it through birth alive, and we need to flood the gates of Heaven right now.  CeCe is busy talking to her right now and asked me to communicate to y’all to pray and pass on this request to everyone.

CeCe will update y’all later.

Yours in Christ,

Larry

*******UPDATE*******

OK this is the message I got when I came home. I have been friends with Amy for 25 years. I cannot even begin to find words right now… my heart is crying out to God right now and I need you all to pray for my friend. Where there is life there is hope. Please help me lift my Amy up. Her baby girl, Moxie,  is due in 11 weeks… Moxie, hold on.

All I can muster up right now is…

Abba, please.

I love y’all.

CeCe

“I have been praying for you and Larry and hoping the wedding went well. You sure deserve a weekend off.

Ok so Moxie has looked great so far the high risk geneticist could find no problems at 15,18 and 20 weeks. I’ve had a couple of office scans since but she’s been proportional and making progress even if she has been on the lower end of the growth charts. Yesterday I went into septic shock (they think) I couldn’t breathe and all my muscle groups were clamping down. When I got to the ER my BP was way up, sats way down and my temp was 102.6. They pulled and cultured my picc line and all sorts of nasty stuff grew out in my blood culture but once the antibiotics kicked in I started feeling better. They dopplered Mox a couple of times and then in the wee hours I had a high level sono. The tech went form chatty to quiet. I didn’t think much of it, I didn’t have my glasses so I couldn’t see the screen well. So this morning my peri comes in not his jovial self so I immediately asked about the U/S. This is a wonderful compassionate man, but no good has come from the words “we need to talk, I’m going to be honest.” Little Mox has been very active, a good sign I thought but she has way too much fluid thus all the flip flopping. Sometime within the last couple of weeks her organs, liver, bladder and possibly heart have stopped being able to process and look to be shutting down. We’ll know more Tuesday when we get another amnio and they try to pull some fluid off and she how she responds. They’ve given me the steroid protocol to mature her lungs but that would be the least of our worries at this point. The bottom line of the reality talk “there is a good chance your child will not survive birth.” I’m waiting for Clay to come back up now, he’d gone to spend some time with the kids and will be spending the night with me. I’ve told him things don’t look good but didn’t go into details. I love this baby so much. How do find the strength? How can I not hurt for my child who has fought so hard for 29 weeks? I am praying for a miracle even if that’s not the miracle I have in mind. How do I celebrate her life no matter the outcome? CeCe I’m so scared and I hate that you can offer me real wisdom.”