There is a Time for Everything Under the Sun

Our third child didn’t get a baby shower.  Not because historically it’s improper in the book of manners, but because I just didn’t think my heart could handle it.  The last time I had been pregnant with a boy, my friends gathered around me as we ate chocolate and vegetables and artichoke dip, all the while cooing over adorable blue polka dot blankets and all things tender and tiny.  It had been almost four years since I had first become a mom, and with that bit of experience, this time around was a bit sweeter and much more relaxing.  With almost four years of practice under my belt, this was going to be a lot easier, a piece of cake.  I more or less knew how to prepare and what to expect.

I had let my guard down and was burned.  That wasn’t going to happen this time.

My friend recently posted how she had taken almost 1000 pictures of her nephew’s birth, and prior to that, she shared pictures of the shower she hosted for her sister, a celebration of the anticipation of their third child.

I am not one to weep over regrets, but my heart sunk a little.  Why hadn’t I allowed the many who offered to host me a baby shower just do what their hearts wanted to do?  Receiving help is difficult for me.  Pride gets in the way of receiving, because I am a damn strong woman and can do a hell of a lot on my own.  However, I’ve found over time how strength is beautiful in numbers, how relying on God and others is not weakness shown but rather confidence revealed.  Real trust, to the core…an ability to recognize most great masterpieces are made up of more than one color, a brick is solely a brick on its own, and a tree will never grow if the seed isn’t ever planted.

No orchestra is made up on solely one instrument.

And only now, after just having loosely celebrated Ryan’s 3rd birthday (Em was sick, he didn’t know it was his birthday or what that meant, really, and Jason and I were just home from Spain), am I able to understand it wasn’t out of guilt or feeling sorry for me that my friends, old and new, wanted to host me a shower. 

I realize now that a shower is to celebrate the anticipation of the little life about to enter the world, an opportunity to celebrate the woman carrying that life, the waiting parents, and a space for everyone to rejoice.  

There is a time for everything under the sun.  Pregnancy and the anticipation of a child is a time of celebration.  Only when news otherwise is relayed should the celebration turn into mourning.

There is a time for everything under the sun.

We don’t skip bridal showers because we think the poor couple won’t last past the infamous 7-year itch.  We don’t forgo weddings for the same reason.  There is no guarantee, on any given day, we will all make it to the 89 year old mark, so should we all skip cake and ice cream, all the years leading up to our day?   There is no guarantee, only hope and hard work, if our marriages will, indeed, continue happily ever after.  Just because a woman is pregnant does not mean the baby inside of her is meant for this side of Heaven.

And just because my heart was raw, carrying another son in my womb, unsure of the days to come, jaded a bit from loving and losing, doesn’t mean I should have denied my family and friends the opportunity to anticipate and celebrate the life growing in me and the arrival of our newest family member.

I’m not saying it was right or wrong to deny my friends and family a chance to host a shower for me years ago.  What I am saying is, in my selfish attempt to protect my heart from further heartache and disappointment, I shut down and didn’t even allow those who loved me to show their love faithfully as they had in the past.  They had celebrated with us, and also mourned when it was time.  

Birthdays, showers, anniversaries, holidays.  All of these celebrations, though marked with loss and memories, no matter how distant, are indeed, celebrations.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this 4 years from when my friends offered to throw me a shower, but I felt strongly to share my heart.  Maybe you are fearful to celebrate the anticipation of a child on the way, perhaps you have had adoptions fall through and it's scary to let your head and heart go there again.  Maybe fear is gripping you as you allow your heart to fall deeply in love again after the loss of a spouse?  I don't know.

I do know for several months I was fearful Ryan would die, just like his big brother.  And I had really, really, really, really, really fallen in love with Noah.  But I knew Noah was dying, and at the same time, I knew he deserved all my love and I loved him with all of my mommy heart.  I don't live in fear anymore that Ryan is going to die like his brother.  He will die.  I don't know when.  God knows the number of our days.  I do know this, however...I have jumped in with both feet in loving Ryan.  The ache and grief of losing his brother does not hang over me as I flip his curls through my fingers, rub noses, snuggle in our favorite chair while reading, and play choo-choo's in the basement.  I'm in love and it feels really amazing.

Every Single Day is a celebration of the lives around us, even our very own.  Is there someone in your life who needs celebrating today?

The only loss in loving is to look back and realize we never gave it our all.

More "Lessons from Spain"

I tell you what…if finding out I was pregnant after a trip to Spain was a way to learn things such as, the sky is the limit, throw caution to the wind, live life to the fullest, OR, say, the opposite, like, be careful, look both ways when crossing the street, always bring an umbrella, well, then the last week has been good for me, in a hellish sort of way.

The age I would be at time of delivery. (Graffiti in Barcelona)

And by “good for me” I mean, “Holy Ship My Pants, Batman!”  Please know, I don’t mean this disrespectfully.  I know, KNOW, know many women who have longed to be mama’s in their life time’s…some never experiencing it, others having only gotten to treasure it for a short time, some never getting to hear their sweet babies cry, or meeting their child face to face.  I, too, have had 2 miscarriages and lost a yummy sweet boy sooner than I ever imagined possible.  I am not discounting these longings, whatsoever.

Translation:  Do not let your dog ship its pants here in this public space.

But I won’t lie when I tell you that for the last few days I have had irregular breathing patterns thinking about the “what if’s” if I were, indeed, pregnant.  And I won’t lie.  Those days were dark in my head and heart. 

Last night as I fell into bed I told my husband I didn’t even need to lower myself down, I simply collapsed under my own body weight.  Still not having shed all my “Viva Espana” weight, then getting PMS like nobody’s business (I NEVER have it, NEVER, no cramps, no tenderness, nada), I was sure we were in for a surprise, and not like, “Ooooh, awesome!”, but more like, “Holy Ship My Pants-ness, Ryan’s going to be a big brother?! #$%^&*.”

I named off two friends I’d consider giving our baby to, since they are looking to adopt.  My heart was heaving and not thrilled at the thought…at all. 

What can I say?  Yes, I celebrate and love children, but these are the real thoughts that went through my head and heart.  I’m sure you’ve never thought this.  Clearly, I suck more than you.

Before I drifted off, however, I told Jason, “If it’s a girl, I’m naming her Georgie.”

This morning I looked at my calendar, counted days, tried to remember what I was thinking or if I had been thinking and, HOLY SHIP MY PANTS, were we even thinking?  I rolled out of bed, pulled up my bootstraps, and actually smiled at the new found peace that had settled into my heart over night. 

“Georgie…totally.  We’ll name her Georgie, and maybe her middle name will be Madrid or Barcelona.” 

I headed into what is usually one of my favorite days of the week:  LAAAAAAA!  Thursday.  My day.  A day where Ryan hangs with our fabulous babysitter and I head to the library, word-nerd heaven, where I sit amongst books and thoughts and dreams to read and write and enjoy the quiet.

First stop, the coffee shop for something with almond milk, “to-go”.  Second stop before setting up my portable office at the library:  the ladies room.

(The following is a text conversation)

A:  “You’re lucky…”

J:  “That made me laugh.”

A:  “I’m glad my bleeding uterus is funny to you. I almost shipped my pants with worry!”

A:  “But, the name Georgie for a little girl IS fabulous!”

A:  “Maybe it’ll be my pen name…hmmm, yes!”

J:  “Your pen name should be Georgie or Bleeding Uterus?”

A:  “Probably Bleeding Uterus.  It’s raw, catchy, authentic…”

I’m not sure I’ll use “Georgie” or “Bleeding Uterus” or something else entirely as a pen name, but I do know this:  I will always write vulnerably and with authenticity, because this particular lesson from Spain is:  life doesn’t always turn out as we plan, but I already know from experience, it can be more beautiful than we ever imagined.

*And, a couple bonus “Lessons from Spain:” menses symptoms are greatly affected by how clean one eats.  It was a reminder, and a heck of a way to re-learn this, but my body tells me things and I need to listen.  Moderation.  And, make that appointment...

Foods that contribute to monthly bloating, mood swings, and cramps: amazing churros from Barcelona

A picture my husband said I'd never post since it's not flattering...I don't know what's not flattering about eating an entire crab by yourself, soaked in butter, but arrrrrr, I love crab!  Living it up, eating without regrets/symptoms in Espana.

Laguardia, Espana, aka, Wine Country, being kissed by my prince on top of a castle...*alcohol, another contributor to monthly swings.

More on the food tour: constipation and bloating,  I mean ice cream and molten chocolate cake with some sort of awesomeness on the side... 

Reminder, Adrienne:  you feel healthy when you eat healthily

So, no.  There is no Georgie Madrid Graves on the way.  The only baby we brought home from Spain is this Spanish Mater.  #vivaespana

Changes coming...Part 3...probably the end of it...

That's funny. There is no end in sight when it comes to change. What I mean is, this is the last of my "Changes coming..." series...for now :)


This last week I've had a heightened awareness of the fact that we as humans are constantly on the go, in and out of the grocery store, work, school activities, running here and there, passing one another on our way to wherever it is we must be, yet we don't really stop to ponder that every one of us has a story. We all have different things we are going through, anticipating, experiencing, at any one given time, on any given day. "You don't know me" keeps running through my head...not with the attitude tone that you would think but instead the heartfelt sentiment that we are all crying out to truly be known. Because God made more than one of us, He wants us to see the unique gift that each of us is to the world. So I've been praying more for strangers. I've been looking at people's faces, asking God to show me how I can pray for them, someone I don't know, but that God knows very, very well. Someone that God loves very much. This last week as I went about my business, running here and there, passing others on my way, I knew that it was impossible for any of them to know this chapter of my story...


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Today, when checking out at the grocery store where I had been with my mom and younger sister, who, by the way, keeps calling me, like repeatedly throughout the last week and all day and who happens to be due YESTERDAY with her first baby, but not to tell me she's in labor rather to tell me about the cute things she has seen while out shopping...ANYWAY, after hugging my mom and little pregnant bursting sister, I told the clerk that was my little sister and how weird and exciting it is that she's going to be a mama. (SIS JUST CALLED AGAIN, but just to chat! Have my nephew already!)

Clerk: Do you have kids?

Me, thinking: Well, I lost one through miscarriage 10 years ago. I have one spectacular specimen of a human who is almost 7 years old, my sweet daughter Emily who I can't get enough of. I also have one fabulous little man named Noah, oh so handsome and perfect, that was with me for 7 short months but now resides with the Creator of the Universe. And then, another one, not sure if it was a boy or girl who was due December 25th of this year that I am currently miscarrying...yeah, today, right now...actually for the last week, to be exact...

Me, actually speaking now: I have one daughter who is almost 7. She's pretty great!

Clerk: I have a 19 and 16 year old. The 19 year old just moved out of the house.

Me: I'm sure that is exciting but was it also hard? I will be so sad when that day comes.

Clerk: It was sad for me, but thankfully she lives in town, so we still hang out.

Me: That's great! And how about your 16 year old? Is he in high school, then?

Clerk: He's a sophomore and he is trouble!

Me: Oh man, I'm sorry. That can be a rough age for some.

Clerk: He's getting a little better.

Clerk: Well, I hope your nephew comes soon! Have a good day!

Me: You too! Have a really great weekend!

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I can't explain the peace that the Lord has given me. Over the past week I took a pen and wrote my heart out in a letter to Noah regarding my feelings about the miscarriage I am currently experiencing. It was therapeutic to get it out so then I typed it in a Word document, thinking I would share it here, but it was 4.5 pages long! God has really moved in my heart regarding this last week and has shown me some interesting things I'll write at some point. Jason and I are obviously disappointed that we weren't able to tell Em that she was going to have a baby brother or sister. We wanted to tell her first so she could tell everyone else, but for reasons we do not know, this sweet child was not meant for here. For the longer version, the letter I wrote to Noah, I've included it below. Thank you all for your prayers over the last few years. I know many of you have prayed for us to be able to conceive again. I trust God with those details and if it is His will, I am not discouraged to try again...

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(This is neither the content nor the way in which I thought I’d share this news…because it wasn’t the news I thought I’d be sharing…)

(This has not been edited...it's just my heart on paper...)

Noah, I miss you. Mommy was pregnant and I have to tell you, I was excited! You see, your big sis misses you and quite honestly, she was made to be a helper and nurturer. Without you around, she gets bored and lonely sometimes. She has good friends and obviously mommy and daddy, but I now you were very special to her, little guy. Lately she’s been talking about how much she loves babies and how she’d love a little brother or sister. The problem is, I can’t make promises I can’t keep. I would love to magically snap my fingers and have a sibling appear, but I have no magical powers. I suppose trust is a bit of “magic”, and I definitely have trust. I trust God with all of me. He is smarter and bigger and I know that even thought my heart wants certain things, it doesn’t mean they line up with the bigger picture. So, in April of 2009, I found out I was pregnant. I told your daddy and he was excited! He said, “Let’s wait a little while and then let’s tell Emily first.” Well, I sort of followed that directive. I told my friend, Dr. Julie because I needed her help and support. Then I told my sweet friend, Pearl’s mommy, because I knew she wouldn’t leak the info and that she’d pray for me and that sweet baby. And then, I told your Auntie Danar. Looking back, part of me wishes I hadn’t told her, not because she’s a leaker because she’s not, but because she is pregnant with your cousin. It’s actually why I told her because she told me she was pregnant while we were in NYC on our 40 mile walk, and because never in a million years did I dream that I’d be pregnant at the same time as my little sister. So, for me, Noah, it was an honor to share even just a few weeks of pregnancy with her. Anyway, buddy, I’m not sure how it works or if you two have met, but I had a miscarriage before I had Emily. One day I started to have a little spotting and then that very same day daddy took mommy to the hospital and we lost a sweet little baby we never got to meet. Em later decided that was her big sister Rosie…I figured it was fine for her own heart to decide who that was. Well, having Emily and then you has taught me so much about “treasure”. So, when I found out I was pregnant, after much prayer and a lot of time (almost 4 years since I had been pregnant with you) I was at peace and hopeful for whatever was in store…even if it wasn’t my ideal scenario…whatever the heck that is, right?! Well, I want you to know, I prayed for the sweet baby in my belly. Daddy and I thanked God for the blessing of pregnancy and prayed for your little brother or sister, that they would be a lover of God and a follower of Him all of its days. Even though I hadn’t gained one pound, I held my belly at night when I went to bed and thanked God for whatever His will was. Now, let me back up a minute because there is something even richer you must know about my God and how very in love with me He is…

10 years ago or so, I went to a women’s conference where a Jewish Rabbi shared about the feasts of the Jews and how the line up with the gestation of a baby. I was fascinated! I don’t know where my notes are from that day but I said to the Lord that it would be my desire to have a child during the feasts of the Jews. He knew. I hadn’t stopped thinking of that but then, when you died, I also thought it would be redemptive to have a January baby. And then, I just laughed at myself because, really Noah, Mommy can do her part when it comes to making babies, but that’s about it…And then, of course, when I did the math, wrong mind you, your daddy wasn’t going to be in town during critical dates, dates which I thought would bring a January child. And then, I took the test…and there were two stripes. I went on the computer to calculate my due date. Well, my sweet little man, you must know how surprised I was when December 25, 2009 showed up on the screen! Only God, truly, only He could have done such a thing for my heart!! You see, the beginning of the feast in relation to the gestation of a baby starts with Passover and the final feast is the Festival of Lights, Hanukkah, and in Christendom, Christmas Day…the symbolic day the child came into the world and out into the light! Oh buddy, I couldn’t wait to shout it out and tell the world! I even brainstormed fun ways to tell Em so she could tell her grandparents and aunts and uncles. The Twitters & Facebook status one-liners were flying through my head as to how to tell people we don’t really know but that we love and who have loved us and prayed for us over the years…all because of your sweet life, Noah. Want to hear some of Mommy’s silliness?

Adrienne Graves:…is curious if anyone has any geriatric maternity clothes she could borrow?

…saw two stripes…

…is feeling a little sickish but it’s not even morning…

…snuck and found out her Christmas present…can you guess what she’ll get?

…will be 56 at her kid’s high school graduation…you do the math!

…went and got herself ‘knocked-up’!

…is in the family way.

…never thought she’d be pregnant at 16 years of marriage! She could have her own built in babysitter by now!

Well, then I started spotting. Many women I know have spotted throughout their pregnancies, but still, in the back of my mind, miscarriage lingered. I told the Lord that I trusted Him but that I wasn’t keen on the idea of losing another kid but that if the child was not meant for here, I trusted Him. The spotting lasted all through the weekend and into the early week, and then, it started getting more intense, coupled with cramping. I called my Ob who I had hoped to avoid until around week 36 (kidding) and got an appt for Tuesday. So, yes, little man, what I knew was happening was taking place over Mother’s Day weekend. Some might find that crappy but it helped me treasure my moments with your sister and truly be thankful for what I have. I recognized about 3 of the girls in the office. They all loved your sis when she’d come to yours and my appts. We headed back to the ultrasound room and waited for Mommy’s sweet doc. That’s a story for another day, Noah, but God introduced us for some reason, on an airplane (Mommy talks to strangers on airplanes) before I was even pregnant with you. He is a part of this beautiful story…Well, after “Hi’s!” and him telling us he was proud of us for even trying again, He said, let’s take a look. I said, “Before we proceed with an ultrasound, we don’t have any money or insurance…do you happen to have any charitable donations today?!” Hey, it can’t hurt to ask! I just Praise GOD that we had great insurance while you were with us, Noah!

The scene before me was as I suspected. Doc said, “There’s a yolk sack, and that right there looks embryonic, but it doesn’t look right…and there’s no heart or heart beat. You are right, you’re having a miscarriage.” He said he was sorry, that we could spend a few thousand dollars to analyze the tissue to see what was wrong with it but that what it would confirm is that something was not right so my body was miscarrying. He also knew it wouldn’t have mattered, that I would have had that kid either way, so he encouraged me to head home to rest and let my body do what it had already begun doing. I asked if it was because I had ‘old eggs’. He said that 1 in 3 pregnancies over 35 end in miscarriage. I said, “So, does that mean I have to try 2 more times?” He looked at your daddy and said, “I hope you try a lot more than that!” He’s silly. I said to Doc, “God has designed our bodies in a way to naturally miscarry, and this one wasn’t meant for here.” I said, “We always wanted 2-4 kids…now we have 4, only one at home…I just thought more would be here and not there…” Then I asked the doc if he would deliver my next kid. He said, “If it’s before 6:00 pm! Actually, I stopped taking call 2 years ago…but I’ll deliver yours.” I said, “That’s good since you were fishing when Noah was born!”

So, buddy, long story longer, I can’t begin to describe the peace and hope I have in my heart. I am popping the pain med and trudging through this very painful and uncomfortable step, but I’m not discouraged. Your little brother or sister wasn’t made for here. I’m not going to lie that I, along with your daddy, big sis, and your whole cheering section would love one to ‘stick’. I have learned to be content with much and with little.

And to think that god would bless my heart to show me His love by allowing me the privilege of being pregnant during the feasts, even if my Christmas morning will look differently than I dreamed, well, that just blows me away! I mean, I could have been due anytime and been grateful! He gives us the desires of our hearts sometimes, but it doesn’t mean those line up with His more perfect will. I trust Him.

One last note, did you know that your Mommy feels honored to have been pregnant at the same time as some of the most amazing women that walk this earth? It’s true! Their love for the Lord and their families is inspiring…and I was among them for a short time: DBF, KS, HJC, LC, MD, RG, VH, CB, AAB, to name a few. They did not know, but watching their journeys encouraged my heart.

So buddy, that is the story. Eventually I will share this with Em, but since we hadn’t even told her the good news yet, it’s hard to start with the bad! I will trust God to show me when to share with her and I’ll trust Him to give me the words to speak. She already knows I had one before she was born…it just stinks to have to add to her list of siblings in Heaven!

Just writing this was therapeutic for my heart! Even though part of me wanted to quietly go about this, another part felt strongly to encourage any one else out there on a similar portion of the journey to know you are not alone. I am so sorry for your disappointment and loss! I pray that your heart’s would heal and that you, too, would find hope by trusting God. I know it seems crappy and unfair but if we’d stop measuring our circumstances to some invisible standard of what “she” or “they” have and trust in a more beautiful perspective then loss and grief and suffering will look differently. In light of why I exist, suffering, loss, and grief were some of the key ingredients to why I am able to live by grace…Jesus endured all those things, along with those who loved and followed Him but instead of ending in tragedy it opened the door to hope.