I was just thinking about how I bought Baby Orajel a year ago, when Wes was about six months old, in case he was teething. I hope it hasn’t expired yet.

The other thing we’ve had on hand for a looooong time without needing is Biter Biscuits. Though they’ve been in the cupboard, I haven’t given them to him often because they are m-e-s-s-y. And a pain to clean up because once the mushy biscuitness is on his face it dries and gets caked on fast. And we all know how much little kids adore having their cheeks rubbed raw with a Clorox wipe. I always silently cursed the makers of these things when I tried to clean up Wes after eating one.

But now I worship the makers of Biter Biscuits. Because right now Wes is sitting in his booster seat, gnawing and gnawing and gnawing at a biscuit. It’s been twenty minutes. It’s been blissfully quiet. And the biscuit is only half gone.

Wes is getting his first tooth.

If you can manage to pry his hand away from his mouth you can see a little white nubber on the bottom gum in front.

What a week! First he picks up his first sign, and now his first tooth.

Nineteen months of waiting and we get a double whammy in one week!

Wesley gets visits from three different therapists four times each month: physical, occupational, and speech. Sometimes these visits are exhausting for me because they remind me how much work I have to do with Wes. And other times, like today, they make me gush with joy to realize what great progress Wes is making.

I have to first point out Wesley’s MAJOR MILESTONE: His first sign.

Let me just say that I’ve been using signs with Wes since he was about two or three months old. When I take him to the library Sing and Sign Time I’m always amazed at the little seven-month-old babies that can sign “milk” like it’s no big deal, and here I’ve been working on it with Wes for over a year, and NOTHING.

Since he was little I’ve been SHOWING the signs to him, and in the last few months I’ve been making him DO them himself (by taking his arms or fingers and making him sign). In the last couple of weeks I’ve noticed that I only have to bring my hands towards his elbows, as if I were about to help him move them to make the sign “more,” but when he sees me coming at him he’ll move his arms himself. Even that was great progress.

Then today, for the first time, all I have to do is say, “Show me ‘more’”–and he does it! All by himself, without me helping him at all.

His sign for “more” is a bit of a convoluted mix between the “milk” sign and “more.” But hey, it works. And he gets this wide, goofy grin on his face every time he does the sign. He really knows he’s communicating with me.

I guess success tastes sweeter the longer you have to wait for it. Because I’m feeling super excited by this. I’ve waited OVER A YEAR for it!

Now he does his “more” sign for everything–milk, more toys, snacks, pretty much whatever I’m asking him about. But that’s OK. Let’s get him settled with one sign and then maybe he’ll figure out there’s more than one in the world.

Check out these videos of him using his signing skills:

More video 1

More video 2

Anyway. Back to the therapists. Today his speech therapist came and Wes did great. She asked me if he’s using his pointer finger to point yet and I said no, although we’ve been working on it.

Well, then she pulls out these flash cards with pictures on them and flips through them with him, and when she says, “Where’s the _____?” he would use his pointer finger to point at the picture. Yeah. I know. Little stinker was holding out on me. He doesn’t curl his other fingers down, but clearly I can see him using his pointer finger, even though his other fingers are outstretched.

She also brought a toy that looks like a lawnmower with little balls that pop up as you push it. That toy gave Wes such a big smile! He loved pushing and pulling it around. AND as he played with it I saw him back up. Walking backwards is something his physical therapist has been wanting him to learn how to do. She just came last week, and when she came I didn’t think I’d ever seen Wes back up while standing. But in the last few days I’ve seen him do it several times, including today with that toy. If the therapists didn’t come I wouldn’t know what to look for. I wouldn’t even know to rejoice in the fact that Wes can walk backwards. But hurray! He can.

So I’m happy for Wes today. He’s getting things. When he wants to, but still, he’s getting them.

You know me and cooking. They generally don’t go together, at least not well.

Therefore when I pull something from the oven that turns out edible, even pleasantly so, I have to publish my success to the world to prove I really did it.

Today’s quest was to use some of the leftover Easter ham. I decided to make a quiche.

If the word “quiche” scares you off, don’t be alarmed. I always assumed quiches were difficult to make. This probably stems from the time as a teenager when I babysat a family of five kids whose mom–who ran a catering business–left me a recipe for quiche and expected me to make it for her kids’ dinner without ruining it. I wasn’t sure I even knew how to pronounce “quiche”, let alone how to make it. I prepared it, albeit with great anxiety, and when I served it to the kids I asked how I did. They said: “Not as good as my mom’s.” Aaaaand that was the last time I tried to make quiche.

I only post recipes here if they’re bona fide easy (i.e., I can make it). I used stuff I had on hand. Most quiche recipes call for cream or half and half. Without either, I substituted evaporated milk. It turned out fine, and probably tasted less heavy than it would have with cream. The original recipe didn’t call for onions, but I added them to enhance flavor. I used a lot of onion, so the flavor was strong, but you can adjust according to your preference.

CHEESY HAM QUICHE

Pastry for 9″ pie shell (I used pie crust mix and patted it [didn't roll it out] into my pampered chef stone pie shell)
1/2 onion, diced (this is if you like onion flavor a lot; use less if you want the flavor more in the background)
2 tsp butter
1 c. diced cooked ham
1 c. shredded cheddar cheese (I used a mix of Colby jack and Swiss we had on hand, and I probably used more than a cup)
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg (I just sprinkled a little on)
4 eggs
1 c. half and half (I used a cup of evaporated milk)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. paprika (I omitted this)
1 Tbsp dijon mustard

Line 9″ quiche dish or pie pan with pastry; trim excess pastry around edges. Bake 400 degrees for 3 minutes. Remove from oven and gently prick with fork. Bake 5 minutes longer. Let cool.

Put diced onion in microwaveable dish with 2 tsp. butter, cover, and microwave for 1 1/2 minutes. Remove and let cool.

Place 1/2 of ham in pastry shell; top with 1/2 of onion and 1/2 of cheese. Repeat with ham, onion, and cheese and then sprinkle with nutmeg.

Beat eggs until foamy; stir in half and half (or evaporated milk) and mustard and seasonings. Pour slowly over cheese in pastry shell. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until firm.

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I also made a cake over the weekend to bribe my 11-year-old primary kids at church to learn the names of the current twelve apostles. This cake is easy, very moist, and plenty sweet. It’s good if you like caramel and chocolate. It may be considered a simplified version of the Better Than Sex cake that involves the addition of whipped cream and chopped toffee bits. You could probably use any chocolate cake mix and frosting, but the ones specified are especially good because they have mini chocolate chips in them that make for a better overall taste and texture.

TRIPLE CHOCOLATE FUDGE CARAMEL CAKE

Betty Crocker Triple Chocolate Fudge cake mix
Betty Crocker Triple Chocolate Fudge frosting
Caramel ice cream topping (I used Mrs. Richardson’s butterscotch caramel topping)

Prepare cake mix according to package directions for round double layer cake. Cool completely. Frost the top of one layer, then place second layer on top. Use handle of wooden spoon to punch holes in surface of cake layers, pushing all the way to the bottom. Heat jar of caramel topping until easy to work with. Pour desired amount over top of cake and into the holes. Finish frosting the top and sides of cake. If needed, put cake in freezer for 10-15 minutes to firm up caramel before frosting completely.

Last week Wes and I spent a quick hour in downtown Salt Lake City.

We walked to the park where John proposed to me in 2001.

This may or may not have been the bench where John popped the question.

Then we walked over to the LDS Conference Center to use the bathroom and see the art on display. Wes was small in proportion to the huge space, but that didn’t stop him from walking everywhere and making the elderly patrons smile as he toddled by.

Wes exploring the waterfall outside the window.

Wesley’s new suit. It’s size 12 months. The shirt and vest fit OK, but the pants we had to roll up about three times to fit his short legs.

Today was a tough day. The kind where I ended up taking myself to a coffee shop to eat hazelnut gelato and a chocolate cupcake. You know the kind of day.

But there was a bright spot. I took Wes in the stroller to run some errands. While waiting in line for the checkout at Robert’s Crafts a gray-haired lady came up beside me and started talking to Wes. This isn’t unusual. Anyone with a baby is accustomed to ladies stopping and admiring your little one. In fact, one of the Roberts Crafts clerks had done it just a few minutes before when I passed her in the aisle.

But this lady was different. And after I minute I realized why. It was when she said, “This is my daughter,” and gestured to the young lady beside her (whom I hadn’t noticed until then). Her daughter was in her late twenties and had Down syndrome.

I introduced Wesley to both of them and we chatted for a few minutes in line. Down syndrome is an interesting, visible thing to have in common with complete strangers. An instant bond.

The lady’s name was Barbara. She told me what a joy our children are. “It’s like living with a celestial spirit, every day,” she said.

“Which makes us have to work harder,” I added, and she nodded.

She asked how old Wes was and I told her (eighteen months), and I also mentioned that he’s in nursery at church. She was surprised and asked if he could walk. I told her he started last month and she told me how great that is. Her daughter took a little longer, until she was three.

“Your family is very blessed,” she said as I paid the clerk and turned to the door.

And you know? She’s right.

It’s official: I’m not pregnant. Ten weeks after my miscarriage started it has finally ended.

Now that it’s done and life can go on, I have to pause and say one thing before moving on completely. If you are experiencing a miscarriage yourself, DON’T EVER GOOGLE IT.

Seriously.

Because what do most people do when they’re experiencing something new and uncertain? Google their problem in search of support, good advice, and hope from others in the world who have been through the same thing.

And what do you actually find?

The most horrific stories imaginable. The kind that make you scared to death of having a miscarriage.

I learned at my ten-week routine appointment with an ultrasound that there was no viable pregnancy and that I’d need to miscarry.

Waiting for a miscarriage is worse than it sounds. Imagine someone standing over you with a needle, about to give you a shot. Anticipation is agony. Especially when it’s your first-ever shot and all you had ever heard about shots was PAIN! BAD, BAD PAIN!

When I searched online I found one horror story after another. I became terrified of having their painful experiences myself. Instead of finding hope and support, I found discouragement and fear.

So in addition to mourning the loss of what I had thought was a baby, I also had to deal with a new obstacle—fear of miscarriage.

I finally found one single blog where the woman shared her experience matter-of-factly in a way that I could relate to her feelings and gather hope for my own impending experience.

One single blog out of thousands. Why isn’t there more positive support out there? I found the same thing when I was pregnant with Wesley. You’re gearing up to bring your baby into the world and you’re excited, but also a little anxious because you’ve never had a baby before. Every woman who’s ever had a baby is more than willing to share their own labor and birthing experiences–but what part do they choose to tell you? Their most horrible, painful memories.

I still don’t get why people focus so much on the negative aspects of their experiences.

So. This post is for anyone who’s had a miscarriage, is having one, or will have one someday.

1. WAITING FOR IT

It’s OK to feel sad (and angry and disappointed and [insert emotion here].) This may sound like stating the obvious. But for someone who generally doesn’t let things ruffle her feathers, experiencing something that messes with her womanly hormones and motherly heart as much as losing a baby does is a deep, traumatic blow to the senses. The iron-clad part of my personality made me expect that I could deal with the impending miscarriage without letting it bother me. Well, that turned out to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever thought. I cried a lot. Even when I was lying on the ultrasound bed, peering up at the image on the giant screen, realizing it didn’t look right and then hearing the technician apologize, I found myself wiping away tears. I didn’t beckon them, but it’s that womanly/motherly part that instinctively came out. Some days I didn’t think much about the impending miscarriage, but there were a couple days where I felt deeply sad. Unused to feeling such sadness, I wondered what was wrong with me. It turns out it’s a normal part of the mourning process. Anger was also sprinkled in there. Interestingly, the controlling part of me also surfaced and I found myself setting positive goals for myself even while still at the doctor’s office after the ultrasound. I think it’s because the miscarriage was beyond my control, and it was a pretty crummy situation, so subconsciously I started thinking things like, “Well, dang it, if I can’t have this baby then I’m going to ____________.” Such strong emotions were behind my resolutions that I actually am actively working towards the goals I set for myself then. So if you feel like a nutter when you expect to feel normal, remember that nuttiness is normality when dealing with a loss.

Remember you’re not alone. My best friend’s my husband, and he helped me through the tears, the sad days, and the physical miscarriage. Sometimes you just need someone’s shoulder to cry on and someone to help you remember that even though things are crummy, it’s going to be OK.

God’s aware of you. John gave me a priesthood blessing, which offered me feelings of peace and hope–things I’m not sure I could have obtained on my own. And if you’re ever feeling down and have no one to talk to, God’s ear is always open.

Waiting for the miscarriage takes patience. Patience takes time to develop, and time helps make you stronger. As soon as I learned there was no viable baby inside me I wanted to be done with it. I half expected/half hoped the miscarriage would happen right away once I knew it had to happen, and I was impatient when it didn’t. I was sorely tempted to schedule a D&C surgery, just to get it over with. It turns out most women are like me–most who schedule the D&C do it because they can’t stand the waiting. The waiting is hard, harder than you’d think if you’ve never experienced it. I didn’t want to have surgery if I could help it, but anticipating the pain of a miscarriage (both physical and emotional) is almost worse than the miscarriage itself. Especially if you read the above-mentioned horror stories splattered across the Internet. Our weeks had been busy, so scheduling a surgery wasn’t convenient and I decided to wait. I’m glad I did. By the time I started to miscarry I was emotionally better than the day I had the ultrasound. I was ready and anxious to not be pregnant anymore. For me, the wait was good and therapeutic, even though I hated it.

2. DURING IT

Don’t worry yourself sick. You don’t know what to expect, but hope for the best. I think most miscarriages are over pretty fast. The fact that mine lasted two months forced me to develop patience.

Possibly because it was rather drawn out, the very worst of it was not very bad. I bled for a week and a half and then, one evening, I bled and cramped heavily for a couple of hours. And then, as you know, it took another month and a half to bleed out completely.

My worst fears—involving unbearable pain—were never realized. I never felt pain, only moderate discomfort. Enough to moan, like you might during contractions, but no pain. It made me realize I wasted a lot of energy worrying.

Be prepared. If you’re waiting to miscarry you might as well be ready with sensible items on hand that will ease your experience as much as possible. You may want to have on hand:

* ibuprofen (take four—prescription strength)
* pads (maximum protection with wings)
* Gatorade (you get thirsty during a miscarriage)
* snacks (John brought me Snickers bars; I wouldn’t have thought of it myself, but it turns out I was hungry and the Snickers made me happy. Anything positive during something difficult is good.)
* distractions (anything positive that gives you comfort; I listened to my favorite book on tape)
* heating pad
* and, most importantly, someone you love. How can I even express how wonderful John was to me? You need someone to help you through it. I was fortunate that this happened at night and John was available. I’m glad I wasn’t alone.

2. AFTER IT

Follow your gut. If you’re not sure if you’ve finished miscarrying, go get an ultrasound. I had five.

Remember, life goes on. Really. Some people are really hard on themselves and on God for losing a pregnancy. I see it as a crummy experience with positive effects. Look for the light cast through the clouds. It’s there.