Yesterday I Let Myself Cry…

Posted by on Jul 6, 2017

Yesterday I let myself cry. I let myself feel. I let myself grieve. Yesterday I let myself carefully open the box where I have been shoving all the feelings and thoughts “I couldn’t deal with” today so that I could feel them another day. Yesterday was another day.

Yesterday I allowed myself to be flooded with emotions from that box. And I was nearly overwhelmed by it. There was pain. And grief and loss and hurt and so much more. My heart ached at the memories of a little boy I never got to raise; a son I never got to hear giggle or cry. A boy who I felt move inside of me, but was denied the feeling of him moving outside of me. I can imagine what he would look like now. I can see his sweet twelve year old face with blue eyes and brown hair. He would be perfect. He IS perfect, but he only exists in my mind.

Quentin

Yesterday he was real. Yesterday I remembered. And while yesterday was hard, it was yesterday.

Today things feel a little better. I can walk a little lighter. I can look at my three beautiful children and know that I am blessed beyond measure. Today am so grateful for yesterday. Sometimes we need to open that box where we have shoved our feelings and let them wash over us so that we can start living in today and only remembering yesterday.



Getting Personal Part Two: The Loss of My Baby Boy

Posted by on Feb 23, 2017

This post is another post about me. Hopefully it will give you a little more background info about me.

My husband Tim and I tried for years (3 1/2 years at this point) to become pregnant. I did a dye test (called an HSG) which was painful and uncomfortable, I had laparoscopy surgery to check my tubes, my husband was tested, and I took my temperature religiously for many years so I could chart my cycles and try to find an answer. We finally resorted to IUI (Intra Uterine Insemination) and after two tries a miracle happened. I was pregnant!

To say we were thrilled would be an understatement. We started buying a few essentials for baby and I looked at and longed for baby clothes and diapers and all that comes with them. We felt our baby move and heard his heartbeat numerous times. We were so excited to find out if we were having a boy or a girl so we could start decorating and planning. We headed to THE ultrasound appointment with anticipation and excitement. But it only took a moment for that to change. The ultrasound tech got a funny look on her face and didn’t say a word. She kept moving the tool around without saying anything. She then let us know that our baby did not have a heartbeat. She quickly called my doctor who advised me that I needed to head to the hospital so I could deliver my baby. With no heartbeat. At 20 weeks.

I remember calling my mom as soon as we left that appointment. She laughed as she answered the phone saying she knew I couldn’t wait long to call her. She was expecting to find out if we were having a boy or girl. I can still remember the exact words I said. “My baby is dead.” And I lost it, sobbing into the phone. We drove to the hospital and were checked in to labor and delivery. The doctor came to start my labor. So many mothers and fathers in the rooms around us were getting ready to welcome their new bundles of joy with happy, smiling faces, and newborn cries. But not us.

I remember not wanting to talk to or see anyone. I just couldn’t stand the thought of facing the reality of what was happening. And if others were there it would be real. I couldn’t keep hiding inside my mind. Even with Tim there holding me while I cried and shedding tears himself, I felt utterly alone.

It was a short 7 hours later after dealing with all the regular contractions and labor pains (including an epidural), that I gave one quick push and my tiny, non breathing, silent hearted, baby boy was born. I held him in my arms and bawled. Until that point we still hadn’t known if it was a boy or girl. Without seeing a heartbeat at the ultrasound, the gender had been forgotten.

Tim and I discussed a name for our firstborn and decided that Quentin James was fitting. We had his body cremated and had a short ceremony at my brother’s house. His ashes are now in my living room.

This was easily the darkest time in my life. I struggled with the idea of never becoming a mother. I convinced myself that God didn’t have that in His plan for me. I was angry and afraid. I retreated into myself for a long time. The only reason I survived this dark time was because of my wonderful, supportive husband and my family.

I now have peace that I will be with Quentin someday. And I know I am a better mom because of having gone through this. But I would never wish it on anyone. It was the hardest thing I have been through. The pic above is of Quentin’s tiny little hands and footprints. They weren’t very developed so you can’t see them very well. It breaks my heart just looking at them.

Read Part One Here



I’m Going to Get a Little Personal Here

Posted by on Sep 14, 2015

This post is not about a deal. It’s not a giveaway or frugal living tip. Instead it’s a post about me. I have felt for a while that I should share more of my story on this blog, but I have felt hesitant and afraid. I can’t tell you exactly why I have those feelings, but I do. I’ve had to fight them down and try to put feelings into words to get this post done. So here is the first installment about me, Jacki.

When I was 16 I was mostly a good kid. But I also made a few mistakes. The biggest one being that I chose to do some things that I wasn’t really mature enough to do. And that choice ended in me being 16 and pregnant. It was a hard time in my life. I was a junior in high school and my boyfriend and I broke up right before we found out I was pregnant. He wanted nothing to do with me or our baby, but I still had to see him every day at school. After much heartache, debate, and soul searching I made the decision to place my son for adoption.  I have never regretted my decision, but that doesn’t mean it was easy. It was incredibly hard.

About the time I placed my son for adoption (15 years ago) I wrote the story below. Thanks for letting me share. If you’d like to comment please be kind.

“Tell me again. “ The little boy whispered.

“Again?” His mother asked, wondering how he never tired of this story. He snuggled deeper into his blankets and looked up expectantly. “Once upon a time, “ she started. “There was a very beautiful and talented young woman. She was a good person and she loved her family very much. But as she got older she made a few mistakes. And she soon found that she was pregnant.”

“That means she had a baby in her tummy, right?” The little boy asked, knowing the answer.

“Right.” Said his mother. “She had a baby in her tummy. But she wasn’t married to the baby’s father. And she was still in high school so she didn’t know what to do. She told her family and they were all very nice to her. Her mom took her to the doctor and to a lady who could help her decide what to do with the baby.”

“She’s called a counts-all-her, isn’t she?”

“A counselor, yes. Well, the counselor helped the young woman decide to let someone else raise her baby. That’s called adoption. So she looked at pictures and read letters until she found the family she thought should raise her baby.”

“That was you and daddy.” The little boy said matter of factly.

“Yes.” His mother answered as tears fell down her cheeks. “And that’s why you’re my little boy.” She stopped, ready to go to bed; as this was where the story usually ended. But the little boy had more to say tonight.

“Are you happy I’m your little boy?”

“Extremely happy.” She answered, surprised.

“Then why are you crying?”

She paused for a moment wondering how much he could understand. “There are a lot of reasons I’m crying. One is because I’m so happy you’re my little boy. I’m happy that I get to kiss you goodnight. And hold you when you cry. I’m happy I get to see your smiling face every day and to hear your wonderful laughter. But I’m also sad. Because your birth mommy doesn’t get to do or hear all those things. Because I know she loves you just as much as I do.”

“Mommy,” he said very quietly. She knew by the look on his face something was troubling him. She also knew this would be a new question, one she hadn’t answered before. “Didn’t she want me?” He whispered. “Didn’t my birth mommy want to keep me with her?”

His mother tried to breathe as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. “Oh baby,” She whispered and pulled him into her arms. “She wanted you so much. She wanted to hold you every day just like I’m holding you now. But she loved you too much. She didn’t think she would be a good enough mother for you. Not then. She was too young. She wanted you to have more. So she gave you to me and daddy. Because she wanted you to be happy. And she wasn’t sure if she could make you happy. But most of all,” she hugged him tighter. “She loved you way more than she loved herself.”

She laid the little boy back on his bed and kissed his forehead. “I love you.” She said

“I love you, too.” He told her. “And I love my birth mommy too. Because she loved me so much she gave me to you.”

His mother wiped at her tears, turned off the light, and shut the door.

Somewhere, far away, a young woman lay in her bed thinking of her son. And suddenly an overwhelming feeling of love came upon her. And, again, she knew that she had made the right decision when she gave her son up for adoption.



Introducing Charity!

Posted by on May 6, 2015

Charity

If you are a follower of this blog you have likely noticed a few posts in the past few months that weren’t written by either me (Jacki) or by Becky. If you looked closely you noticed they were written by the very talented Charity. She is a new blog contributor to Mamas on a Dime!

Charity is married to a great man named Artyom who she met in Russia and lovingly calls “The Russian”. She also has two beautiful daughters who are 6 and 8. Hopefully you will notice more posts by her as time moves forward. So please give her a huge welcome!



Repost: Getting to Know Jacki

Posted by on Aug 4, 2014
7006
My name is Jacki. Or, more accurately, Jaclyn. I am 34 years old and have been married to my wonderful husband, Tim for 12 years. I have two handsome little boys and a sassy little girl. Seven year old Holden is a pure entertainer at heart, five year old Beckett who loves getting into anything and everything (and especially things he shouldn’t), and 9 month old Victoria who is securing her place as the last child by being a spitfire and always needing attention.

I love the color pink, my favorite book is The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley (I can’t survive without books) and I am extremely sarcastic. I have always loved a good bargain, but a few years ago I discovered how much I enjoy helping others get great deals as well. I rarely pay full price for anything, but I have to say I have a weakness for purses. Although I still can’t bring myself to pay full price for a brand name. A good knock off can soothe my bargain soul wonderfully.

I am thankful to be a stay at home mom. However, if I ever needed to venture back into the workforce I would love to work with kids. I was a substitute teacher for years and know that as far as jobs go that one was made for me. I’m very happy in general; definitely a glass is half full kind of girl. I enjoy making others laugh and prefer to see the funny side of situations. I’m very easygoing and open minded. It is very hard to offend me.
I look up to my Mom more than she will ever know and my best friend in the whole world is my sister, Becky.
So there’s me in a nutshell. Want to know anything else? Feel free to ask away! I’m not promising I will answer every question, but I’ll probably answer most.
You can also read a little more about me here and here should you have the inclination to do so.