Halloween is Here

Halloween has never been high on my list of favorite holidays, but the fact that it's smack dab in the middle of the best season of the year is a little redeeming for all those ghostly and ghoulish traditions. That fall-factor saves Halloween from dead-last. Well that and St. Patrick's Day, because what is up with THAT holiday?!

This year Michael was repetitive about dressing up as "a wobot! [robot]" (said with both arms thrown high above the head) for more than three straight days. I had every intention of fulfilling that wish, but all was forgotten without a backwards glance when he spied an Elmo costume.

We had a great time Trick or Treating--my goodness it's been a long time! Michael chatted about porch decor and costumes the whole time. He was shy and quiet when faced with candy bowls, but said "tickle my treat" and "fank you" right on cue at every stop. [note: we practiced this for FHE one night by hiding JR in the pantry...I'm sure you are able to deduce the rest]

A few nights before Halloween we were invited to a murder mystery dinner. Our neighbors are pretty much murder mystery royalty so we had an amaaaaazing time. The night was circus-themed, which is typically indicative of sparkles and spandex. JR and I were cast as the acrobats, so we let the sparkles and spandex fly! Murder mystery parties are kind of our thing because that's how JR proposed. This one was absolutely a night to remember.

He is Still at Work

Most days I'm hopeful. I have hope for the future and so much hope for my family. I have a lot of hope that babies will fill our home. But today I realized that I would be having a baby soon if things had been different. I would be thinking more about filling a nursery and wrangling two kids, then I do about the hole in my heart. I'd be washing baby clothes and stocking up on a new size of diapers instead of feeling hyper-sensitive to every comment that includes me and the word "baby". I never sat down to figure out a specific would-be due date because I didn't want that day to come and go. I just know it's getting close.

I also thought that for sure I would at least be distracted from this day with another baby on the way. My rainbow baby. That baby that comes and brings light and color and hope after the darkness of a storm. My rainbow baby came for just a moment, and then that hope and light and color and promise was taken too.

I'll be honest, I haven't turned this struggle over to God in any significant way. Of course I have prayed for comfort and physical healing and even a bit of peace. But most of my dealing has been done in quiet times as I pour my heart into a journal, not a prayer. I have worked through my pain by reading other's experiences and using their words to validate my own feelings. And time has been the ultimate salve for my symptoms. Let so many seconds and moments and weeks and months pass until the pain is a little more numb and the reality is a bit further away, not close enough to reach out and almost touch.

But with all the dealing and self-validation and passing of time, it really has been only symptoms that have been treated. Feelings have been obscured, but I don't think I have done any real healing. I don't know, do you ever really heal from something like this? When you've lost two babies is that the sort of thing you can ever bounce back from? Do you ever stop worrying about the next loss?

I've always been overly-analytical. I like things laid out. I need to have answers. I am very linear. But I was reminded recently that my life is His work. His work is to bring to pass my immortality and eternal life. His work is my joy. So when I am weak and lack the panoramic view, He still knows. And He is still at work.

Michaelisms

Oh that little Michael. He's such a character, and so fun to be around.

He's a great little helper in the kitchen. When I'm cooking he lives to see what's going on. If he's not sitting on the "wall" (counter) we have a little routine where he pushes and I pull a chair from the table around to the counter. I love our kitchen chatting and mixing and feeding bits of the cooking to my little buddy. The other day while I was cooking dinner I said, to myself, "what the...?" "heck" was Michael's contribution without missing a beat.

Michael LOVES to do the dishes. Sometimes when I need to get something done, I'll fill the sink with water and measuring cups and he determinedly washes every bit of dish he can get his hands on. It's not the same in the bathtub or even the pool. I guess there's something about helping in the kitchen...

We got Michael a Little Tikes car for Christmas, and he would be happy with that and no other toy ever again. He loves it. He also loves to order chicken and "fre-fries" through the window much too often for my liking. I mean, what's wrong with ordering imaginary carrots every once in awhile? ;)

Michael still calls me "mama" and I can't get enough of how sweet it is. "SawMama" to apologize and "okay, Mama" when I talk to him and ever need a response. "Okay" is everything. "Michael, would you like some lunch?" "Okay!" "Should we go swimming?" "Okay!"

If I ask Michael about a scratch he'll say "Ashes" which is code for; "I fell down." Kills me. This, coincidentally is also his response whenever someone falls; "Mama, ashes!"

When I ask him what he wants to eat, it's always "beans and chocolate". More recently it's been TACOS! He's never, to my knowledge, had a taco. How does he know these things?!

He LOVES, with all the love he has, Hotel Transylvania 2. He quotes it. He watches it at least in part on a daily basis. Sometimes I try to tempt him with trains or cars or Minions, but we always come back to "Hotel".

The guy hates, with all the hate he has, Nursery. We're still at the sobbing-heaving-sobs-if-he's-left-alone stage. Does anyone know how to cure this? I struggle knowing what to do! Do I just leave him? I feel badly for the teachers. Navigating all those toddler feelings? Hard. And of course I hate to hear his little heart breaking all over the Nursery's ancient firetruck toy.

Crying because you don't want to go to bed, but you need to sleep because your brain is growing and I'm failing your future perfect IQ by letting you stay up too late? Fine. Crying because you're too young to realize that I'm not abandoning you forever, you will eventually see your family again and all these people are strangers but you need to learn how to be forsaken and deserted? Not fine.

See why I struggle?

Our nursery struggles aside, this boy is one of the very best parts of my life. I love his laugh and his adorable personality that is oh so silly. He is curious and thoughtful and kind and brave. Thank you, Michael for being my little boy. Happiness is being your mama. I love you more.

Congratulations

Today we worked on figuring out medical bills. Does anyone else feel like you have to have a college degree to understand insurance claims? Boy, do I ever.

As we hung up with the nice lady who patiently explained where and how all our pennies are being distributed (there are lots of pennies to be distributed), she sweetly said; "congratulations on your little one." I guess all the claims were billed to procedures that looked a lot like a new addition to our family. It was a punch in the gut to hear the words and know I would never bring my baby home.

But you know what I know? Every piece of my soul knows unequivocally that God cares about families.  He cares about mamas being the best mamas they can be, and about babies being born and loved, and about daddies who are heroes to their little boys, and kings to their little girls. He. Cares.

Until yesterday at about 2:40 PM, for some reason I have been feeling like we are asking for the moon and every single star in the sky with all the long and multiple pleading prayers for our little family. Then yesterday at about 2:40 PM it hit me. He wants this for you too. It was empowering more than entitling. Because when you know you're working with God, that's like the best ever.

Loosing Something

A few weeks ago, I lost my baby. Maybe people think I'm dramatic because I wasn't very far along. Maybe others think my body or that baby weren't quite ready for a pregnancy so good thing it didn't work out. Maybe it's so common that it shouldn't be so hard. But three weeks post lots of blood, pain, a surgery and emotional scars that might never completely heal, I don't buy any of it.

"There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you."
-Maya Angelou

It makes me sad to think of all the milestones I will never experience with this child. It makes me sad to think that a living, healthy pregnancy was terminated and removed because my body messed up.

In the middle of trying to navigate lots of devastation, I came across a drawing of a woman with a gaping hole that went straight through her middle. That perfect depiction of my feelings often has me glancing down at my now empty middle, surprised that the same hole isn't staring back at me. I've held that same empty middle so tightly it hurts, because it makes sense that holding on that tightly will keep me together when it feels like I am going to shatter into a million pieces. There are some holes that will never be filled.

I have a lot of questions, and I don't need answers. I DO know that restoration applies to me. In some way, someday, I will know that baby I lost.

Little one, I will spend the rest of my life recognizing moments full of you. I will always wonder who you would have been. I carried you every second of your life, and I will spend the rest of mine loving you.

Motivation

I've been a whiny little monster about my life lately. I don't have energy, my emotions are all over the world, and I cannot pull myself together long enough to make the gym a habit again. I've been pinteresting my brains out trying to find the perfect thing to motivate me back into a better, healthier routine. I have been reading fitness articles like crazy, and at my all time lowest of lows I actually even Googled something to the tune of "what goals to set in the gym." Seriously? Like I can't figure that out on my own? sesh.

And then I was like; "dude. Snap out of it!" Because at what point are the hard things in life really not at all about motivation? They're not. Doing hard things is about discipline. It's not about how you feel about going to the gym, or having a daily walk with God, or keeping the house clean. The hard things aren't about feeling motivated. Stop the whining, Sandoval and just do it. I guess maybe those Nike people had it right all along.

Christmas Cheer

We squeezed every last drop of Christmas cheer out of the season. And I think there just might be this new magical sense of Christmas time at our house with lots of memories to keep it special until it happens all over again.

Michael really loves "Schanta" (mostly only said in an awe-filled whisper). All cookies are made for Schanta to eat, and Schanta's reindeer sound like sheep. Baby Jesus got his head chewed off (so inappropriate), and stars are really special. So special that we're always on high alert to point them out. Michael is not allowed to touch mamma's tree, and only does when it's past time to go to sleep. That's when he turns naughty and watch out or he really might knock the whole thing down. Mostly he drags the little tree that's just for him over every square inch of the house.

One night, early in the Christmas season, we went to Temple Square to see the beautiful lights. There were a million people as usual, and it got a little stressful. But you know what? The most special part of the whole night was when Michael got close enough to the Salt Lake temple that he could reach out and touch it. We talked to him about the temple and how Jesus lives there. He was reverent and interested. You just knew he understood. In the middle of a crazy downtown adventure, it was a special reminder of why we celebrate the season.

I have also been extra sensitive this year every time I get a chance to reflect on a baby boy who changed the world. Maybe having my own little boy has helped me realize what a sacrifice it was to give Him up, or maybe I feel such a great responsibility to teach my little boy the things he needs to be a difference-maker in a very big world. 

I've also thought a lot about the names of Christ. Wonderful, Counselor, The Bread of Life, The Comforter, The Prince of Peace. As I reflect on each special name, I have had countless realizations of how He is each of those things to me. In times of decision He is my Counselor. When I am confused He is my Prince of Peace. When my heart breaks, He is my Comforter. In the situations I turn over to Him, He steps in to perfectly fill me with what I lack.

I hope Christmas time has been special and magical for you this year. Because that is exactly what it is meant to be.

Thankful

Thanksgiving seemed small and quiet this year. We only had 6 siblings together for dinner. What?! I know, so funny that 6 of us together (which included all but one of the five grand kids) seemed small and quiet. Regardless of how "small" it was, we had a really nice dinner and truly enjoyed.

This year the holiday season has been more focused for me. I have no idea where the insight came from, but I have let go of so much and tried harder to replace all the extra "fluff" with people, appreciation and love. I brought a store-bought pie to Thanksgiving dinner, for heaven's sake. Those of you who know, really know...

Later that night the third-annual Black Friday extravaganza commenced, meaning my sister and I got to watch Hallmark Christmas movies for hours on end while our husbands razzed crowds of holiday shoppers. JR tried to trick me about buying a huge TV, but in the end, although the physical TV was in fact parked in my living room, it was just a trick. (He actually did buy it on our credit card, but only for the travel points) I thoughtfully considered "believing" him after my brother-in-law secretly ratted him out so I could spend the same amount on myself the following day (as a fair trade), but dang that conscience of mine...

Later that weekend our house turned into a Christmas wonderland! We went through a bunch of our decorations and tossed a lot, and bought some new. It made it even more fun to decorate with a few new decorations. We kept the old that still brings a lot of joy and ended up with some new decor that we just love. I really appreciated that before we bought anything new we thoughtfully decided the space we wanted to fill and de-cluttered before anything ever came home with us. I salute you, JR. My sensible sidekick to balance out; "Ooooohhh... so pretty, we need it!"

Bring on every ounce of Christmas cheer, the Sandovals are ready!

A Spooky Halloween-ie!

The holiday season always has a way of getting me all cozy, brimming with every holiday excursion and bursting with all the holiday traditions. This year was really no exception. Of course all the excitement started with Halloween...

This year we all dressed up as superheroes. Michael was Batman, so JR had to be Robin and I got to be bat girl?? (all that really means is that I wore a Batman shirt and I'm a girl) The only night we all dressed up together was for our family Halloween party. And even then JR lasted all of about 4 minutes. His costume came from the women's section at Walmart and might have accidentally been a medium. Again, a WOMAN's medium. I mean, I offered to be Robin but he was having none of it. JR was set on being the Robin to Michael's Batman. Michael, however, wore his costume all month long. And if we're being honest he still sings a little song to himself whenever he sees the costume, (think: na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na...BATMAN!) and sometimes we're still lucky enough to have a mini caped hero saving the day like it's his job.

On the real day of Halloween I ran the Haunted Half and almost died. Two days later I tested positive for strep and it all made sense. I mean, geesh! I have only run like a gazillion half marathons. I couldn't figure out why my body was giving up, or why I cried (hysterical choked sobs) when I finally crossed the finish line. I now have a serious mental block when I think about running. I think I really don't ever want to do it again in my whole life. Needless to say I didn't do much celebrating on real Halloween.

What a fun and spooky time of year!