Crazy on top of crazy

So, for some reason we decided this was a good time to buy our first house.  We signed up with a real estate agent less than two weeks ago.  We've seen less than ten houses so far.  Last Thursday we saw a house we liked, in a different neighborhood than the ones we had been focusing on.  That afternoon, I checked out the neighborhood elementary school  Over the weekend we took our dog over, parked in front of the house (felt like stalkers), walked around, found the nearest park, and even chatted with some other dog owners we met.  On Monday morning (was that just yesterday?) we asked to see the house again and at that point felt pretty attached to it.  Our real estate agent found out from the listing agent that an offer was already in process on the house.  We decided to make one, too, within a few hours.  It was accepted by dinner time.  Apparently the sellers are an elderly couple who want a quick, simple sale, and we looked like the best chance of that (even though our offer was a little under the asking price).  I mean, if we're going to move it kind of needs to be soon.  I look and feel more pregnant by the hour.

So, less than a week from seeing this house, and now we have put half of our savings in an escrow account.  We're supposed to close in 30 days.  This is crazy.   We kind of went with our gut.  I don't believe that long process = better outcome anymore anyway.

I'm feeling ok right now about leaving the only house Elizabeth lived in.  We're only moving 10 minutes away.  The new house is a better setup for her baby sister (a real room for a nursery!) and I feel like she is with us wherever we are.  I'm excited to own after renting for so long.  Already dreaming of fun paint colors and planting tulip bulbs.  And jasmine, for Elizabeth.

Conversation Stoppers

I used to joke that nothing throws a wrench in get-to-know-you conversations like:

Other person:  So, what do you do?
Me:  I'm a graduate student.
Other person:  Oh, what are you studying?
Me: Theoretical math.

But of course that was before I knew about:

Other person:  So, is this your first?
Me:  No, it's our second.
Other person:  Oh, how old is your first?
Me:  Elizabeth would be 15 months old next week, if she were alive.

I just designed and ordered a new maternity shirt from cafepress. 
This one simply says, NO QUESTIONS PLEASE. 

Elizabeth's Anniversary

I keep waiting to have the urge/energy to write a long post about this, but that doesn't seem to be happening.  I want to post pictures, though, and write the basics.

Saturday was the one-year anniversary of Elizabeth's death.  My husband and I went to the beach with the dog in the late afternoon.  We walked and wrote Elizabeth's name in the sand.  At 4:21, which is the time she died, a wave came and washed her name out to sea and my husband said, "That was beautiful." 

 It had been a rough week during which I flipped out in a spectacular manner more than once, and he admitted that he thinks we got pregnant too soon because it's causing me too much anxiety to grieve and worry about the new baby at the same time, so it was really good to come together and do something meaningful together on Saturday.  He also specially requested that I wear this shirt for our beach trip.


We read our poem to Elizabeth every night - originally that was going to last for a year, but I'm not ready to stop yet so we are continuing with that tradition for now.

Many people sent notes, messages, cards, and flowers, so Elizabeth's table looks like this now:

One of my husband's friends has a brewery, and they made a beer in her memory:

After Elizabeth died, we had a wake during which she was in her bassinet surrounded by jasmine flowers cut from the fence around our yard.  Of course they are blooming again now, so I have them on her table and they are so fragrant.  I miss my darling baby girl so much - no less one year later than when she left us.  Sometimes I think it even grows with time, as we accumulate should-have-been memories.

Love you, Roo.

22w5d

It's a tough time.  The anniversary of Elizabeth's death is this coming weekend.  I can feel the grief building up.  My brain automatically drifts to a year ago whenever it can.  This last week of her life, we watched her go downhill and it was so hard.  Harder than I can bear to write in much detail about right now, even though I know it would be good for me.  My poor little sweetpea with ear infections and seizures and pneumonia.  I cried the first time we gave her morphine - less from grief than from the relief of watching her little body relax as the pain lessened.

March 6, 2011 - Roo and her Daddy

And then there is this - at our most recent ultrasound we found out that the new baby's cord is "too straight" so that knocked the wind out of me and every day saps away any hope that tries to build up.  Elizabeth's cord always checked out normal and it still failed her.

I feel like I am holding on to life and sanity by my fingernails.  I have so few free moments right now - the end-of-quarter rush at school is exhausting.  I do feel thankful that next quarter I don't have to teach, so I will be better-rested again, which does help.  As much as anything can right now.  Survival mode - I've been here before.