The One Rare Case

My first miscarriage was an unusual type of loss called a blighted ovum pregnancy that lasted past 10 weeks. Pregnancy and birth are my geekdom, so I find the science fascinating. I'll spare you the details, but if you asked I could talk your ear off. One interesting fact, though, is that as far as scientists can tell, this type of loss is completely random. You can't point to any risk factors and say, oh, you have XYZ, that's why it happened. Any woman in any given pregnancy has exactly the same risk as anyone else. And because it's random, having had it once does not put you at any higher risk of having it again. It's not that common to have a long-lasting blighted ovum once. It's really rare to have it twice. My most recent loss was also a blighted ovum pregnancy that lasted past 10 weeks, which makes me The One Rare Case.

I'm part of a peer-to-peer support group for survivors of preeclampsia. At least once a week, someone will ask what the chances are of having it again. We always quote the statistics: It most often happens in a first pregnancy and doesn't recur. The earlier and more severely you got it the first time, the greater the risk of recurrence. If it does happen again, it's usually later and milder. Regardless, your doctor will monitor you and baby closely. Even if you get sick again, your chances of taking home a living baby are good. But then we add this caution: There are always rare cases.

Statistics mean very little to the individual. If you happen to be The One Rare Case, it won't matter that you had a 99.9% chance of a living child.

I do actually have a number of risk factors that put me at greater risk for recurrent preeclampsia, so it's not that surprising I've had PE three times. But one of my miscarriages was in the second trimester and just four days after a perfect ultrasound when the statistical risk was very low--The One Rare Case. And while I've done everything in my power to manage my various conditions, I've been struck by random bad luck not once but twice. I can't exactly manage randomness.

My first loss was my physically hardest, my second was more emotional, my third affected me spiritually. This one seems to be mental, falling into negative thoughts. I don't believe in jinxes, karma, or manifestation. But having been The One Rare Case over and over, it's hard not to feel cursed. That is what I've been struggling with this time around.

Our baby is gone

Then Aslan turned to them and said: 

"You do not yet look so happy as I mean you to be."

Lucy said, "We're so afraid of being sent away, Aslan. And you have sent us back into our own world so often."

"No fear of that," said Aslan. "Have you not guessed?"

Their hearts leaped and a wild hope rose within them.

"There was a real railway accident," said Aslan softly. "Your father and mother and all of you are--as you used to call it in the Shadow-Lands--dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning."

And as he spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.

Passage from The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis

I started bleeding lightly Monday night, and broke down and called the doctor Tuesday morning. An ultrasound revealed our baby was gone. By Tuesday night it was all over. We have named her Lucy, an English name that means light and a character in my favorite book, quoted above. This passage has always meant so much to me, and even more to know my four children have experienced it first hand.

The Streets of the City

"And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing..." Zechariah 8:5

This verse was featured at the funeral of my best friend's son, who passed of a genetic disorder just short of six months old. He died about a month before my own first miscarriage. While it doesn't make me miss them less, it does bring a bit of comfort to picture my three little ones along with her Micah, and another friend's Kimber, and all the other little ones I know about, running around laughing and playing.

My due date for Declan is approaching. Thanksgiving Day. With my history, it's likely he would have been born 3-4 weeks early, and I had a vivid dream of nursing a slightly premature newborn at what would have been 36 weeks. I think of him often.

My heart is also heavy for a family
who lost twin boys this week. Two more sweet children joining that eternal playdate. Two more parents whose lives will never be the same. Love and prayers to all parents missing children today, no matter how old they were or how recent the loss.

9 weeks 1 day

After losing our son in May and getting through the recommended three month recovery period, Papa Runner and I talked about what we wanted to do. Neither of us were excited about jumping back on the TTC roller coaster, but at the same time we aren't getting any younger. The longer we wait, the harder (and higher risk) it would be. In the end we decided to "stop trying to control everything and see what happens," fully expecting it to take a while. 

Knock Knock
"Who's there?"
The stork.
"Say what now?"

God had other plans.

I've started writing and deleted this post a number of times already. I keep shaking every time I try, but here goes. Today I am 9 weeks 1 day into my seventh pregnancy with my eighth child. Yes, I'm counting days. Everything has gone well so far, and yet it's also been really stressful. I'm hyper-aware of every twitch and twinge. 

It was hard telling the kids. They are excited but also cautious. They asked if this baby will die, too. It's an important conversation to have, and a healthy one, but so hard. Monkey, especially, really really wants to be a big brother. He talks to the baby a lot, and reminds him/her not to come out too soon "or you'll die." He's been really sweet, reading stories to the baby and showing it how to try foods you don't like. Tonight when I put him to bed he said, "Oh, no, I didn't teach the baby anything today!" I said he could show it how to stay in bed at bedtime.

I haven't been to the doctor yet and don't plan to for a while. My fellow loss moms are like WHAAA? and my fellow high risk moms are like WHAAA? and my medical professional friends are like WHAAA? But last time I went early and often, submitted to every test no matter how ridiculous, and followed every recommendation, and none of it made a difference in the outcome. I can't think of a single thing they do in the first trimester that is either necessary or helpful for me. 

STD testing? I've been in a monogamous relationship for 13 years and had a clear test 6 months ago with the last pregnancy. No need to repeat it so soon.

Check hormone levels? None of my losses have been due to low progesterone. If they had been, I'd definitely do this one, but they weren't. 

Dating ultrasound? I've charted my cycles for 13 years and have scientific evidence proving when I ovulated. You can't get much more accurate than that. 

Do an ultrasound anyway just to make sure everything is okay? If they find a problem, there is nothing they can do about it at this stage; knowing won't change the outcome. And if they tell me everything is fine, that won't reassure me. Everything was fine just four days before Declan died, too.

Check my weight and blood pressure? I'm quite capable of checking it myself at home.

Remind me to take my vitamins and avoid alcohol? I should have that down by the seventh pregnancy.

The one thing I am curious about is the possibility of multiples. But because I have a tilted uterus, it's hard to get a clear shot abdominally at this stage. I'm not curious enough to use the dildo-cam just for this when, again, knowing won't change anything. 

I did call the OB's office and let them know so it's recorded in my chart. I'll probably make an appointment for around 20 weeks for an anatomy scan and start regular appointments then. Until then, I'm taking it one day and sometimes one hour at a time.

Prayers and positive thoughts are always appreciated.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I've lost three children to miscarriage at 10, 9, and 13 weeks, most recently in May. When Declan died, I entered the Anger stage of grief. I had a lot of pent up energy, and I couldn't sleep unless I worked myself to exhaustion. Exercise became my therapy, and I trained myself entirely too hard and racked up a lot of miles.

I now seem to have moved into the Depression stage. I don't want to do anything or go anywhere or see anyone. I'd like nothing better than to sleep 18 hours a day and veg out the other 6. Unfortunately, we are really, really busy with activities and programs, several of which I'm somehow in charge of (and that's after dropping two from last year!), on top of home schooling, cooking for my diet, and housework. I've been feeling very overwhelmed, exhausted, and stressed lately, but I have no idea how to cut back. I don't even want to run anymore, although I'm too stubborn to give up on my streak (125 days and counting) so I've been power walking single miles and calling it good. I have at least given up on reaching 1000 miles for the year.

Also, a lot of people think depression=sadness, but for me it's more numbness. I think if I could have a nice, long cry I'd release a lot of this and feel some relief, but I can't cry. And I've tried, even getting some really sad books to read. The tears just won't come. And I really don't feel like reading right now, either, although I'm too stubborn to give up on my reading challenge either (35 of 52 books and counting).

There's not really a point to this, so yeah, that's it.

My Miracle

A few days after Declan died, a popular ministry posted a meme that made the rounds among my friends on Facebook. It was your typical generic pretty picture with a generic encouraging statement of "Choose Faith Not Fear". The ministry added a little blurb that said something like, if you're afraid for your children's safety, just trust in God's promises. It made me really angry. I felt like it was a slap in my face. God hadn't kept my son safe; he died. But God hadn't broken His promise, He'd never promised to keep my children safe in the first place. What made me angry was this ministry peddling false promises.

I've noticed this theme over and over again lately. I have some dear friends going through hard times right now. I see people "encourage" them by saying of course God's going to fix this very soon and then you'll have an amazing testimony of how awesome it is that God fixes everything. And then they post a discouraged update that actually things are worse and why hasn't God fixed it yet?

I feel like screaming, "God doesn't actually care about your happiness."

Okay, maybe that's a bit over dramatic. But I'm having trouble coming up with a less blunt way to say it. God doesn't care about you having a life of ease where you get everything you want and everything is fixed and easy. God cares about His glory. Sometimes He glorifies Himself through miracles, yes, and when that happens, I'm happy for those so blessed. But more often the best way for God to be glorified is through us suffering and continuing to praise Him anyway.

Because God hasn't promised to fix everything. He hasn't promised that we'll never suffer or struggle, that we'll get everything we want and have it easy. He has promised to be with us and comfort us in the midst of our suffering. As hard as it is, I can continue to praise Him even though my son is dead. And really, isn't that the biggest miracle of all?

If Trump were President

I realize some Republicans are in a perpetual state of anger (thank you, Fox News), and I realize Trump has tapped into that anger. But can you seriously imagine him as president, working with our allies? I think it would go something like this:

Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper: We need to talk about Putin and the Russian situation.

Trump: Just nuke the bastard. Boom, done. You're welcome, Canada.

French President Francois Hollande: Don't you think we should try diplomacy first?

Trump: Of course the French would suggest diplomacy. Diplomacy is for cowards and LOSERS!

English Prime Minister David Cameron: You can't just ignore the Geneva Conventions and international law.

Trump: Up yours, King George! I'm an American, and Americans don't answer to foreigners. We didn't in 1776, and we won't now.

German Chancellor Angela Merkel: We can't just "nuke" them. Think of all the civilian casualties.

Trump: Spare me your bleeding heart and your bleeding whatever.

Merkel: Excuse me?!?

Trump: I don't have time for political correctness. I have some bombs to drop. *leaves*

Harper: ...We need to talk about Trump and the American situation.

Hollande: Just nuke the bastard.

Cameron: Boom.

Merkel: Done.

Theatre majors rock!

My Sassy girl is quite the social butterfly. She'll strike up a conversation with anyone and tell them her entire life story, real and imagined. A lot of adults don't quite know what to make of her.

Yesterday we went to the local Shakespeare festival for one of their children's performances, put on by a troupe of college theatre majors. When it was over, the actors lined up in the back to talk to the kids. Sassy marched up to them and said, "Hi, my name is Sassy, and this is my invisible friend Linda, and today is Linda's birthday." Without missing a beat, they all turned to the empty space next to her and said, "Happy birthday, Linda!" It made her day, and mine.

Sad News

It is with great sadness we announce the birth and death of our baby Declan around noon yesterday at 13 weeks gestation. There are no words to express what I'm feeling now. Mostly shock and disbelief. This has been such a hard pregnancy from the very beginning with the subchorionic hematoma, the restricted activity, and most recently the ovarian cysts. But as hard as it was for me, I took comfort knowing that at every ultrasound (5 or 6) and as recently as Tuesday, baby looked great. Perfect heartbeat, very active. No signs of trouble.

Having had two losses before, I knew I was high risk to lose this one, too. Every day when I woke up still pregnant, I thanked God I had This Day to be his mother. And when things were scary, I took extra care to cherish the moments I did have. But as things got further along and baby looked great throughout, I was starting to look forward to the future.

[Medical details warning for the squeamish]

I started feeling sick Friday. I thought I had a stomach bug. At no point did it cross my mind there was anything more serious going on. And then on Saturday my water suddenly broke and less than a minute later I was holding him in my hand thinking what just happened? It can't be what it looks like, because he was fine on Tuesday. Thankfully, Papa Runner hadn't left for his errands yet (and the kids were at my parents). He called 911, and we spent the afternoon in the ER waiting for the placenta to come.

I've heard horror stories about how some women are treated during a miscarriage, but I had wonderful care. From the ambulance crew to the hospital staff, everyone showed utmost concern and compassion. My nurse Courtney was particularly wonderful, making sure I had as much time as I needed to say goodbye. She even arranged towels around him so we could take a few pictures.

When it first happened, I was afraid I had mistaken labor for a stomach bug, as some of the same symptoms happen in labor. But I'm actually still sick. Now I wonder if I have an infection that triggered the miscarriage. Or if one or both cysts ruptured and released enough toxins to both make me sick and cause the miscarriage. Or it's possible they're completely unrelated and coincidental. The baby and placenta were sent to pathology to be examined, so we may get some answers, but I know in many cases they don't ever find a cause.

We chose the name Declan because it means "full of goodness". It was already on our short list because it fits well with our other kids' names.The kids didn't say much when we first told them, but they all had some questions last night. Grief for kids can be so different from adults, and I'm sure they will have many more questions in the days and weeks to come.

Promise Walk and Pain

It's a little late for my 12 week update considering I'm almost 13 weeks (yay, second trimester!). This weekend, my family did the Chicago Promise Walk for Preeclampsia. The kids were totally on board when we signed up, then lost enthusiasm when they had to actually train. However, they were super excited the day of the race. All four kids finished along with their three cousins, although two distracted boys turned around just a bit early.

It's been another rough week, though. Last Wednesday, I started having episodes of severe pain on my right side. I was afraid it might be my appendix, but it turns out I have two large cysts measuring a combined 7cm on my ovary. Baby is still looking great, but I've had a couple nights and days where I couldn't eat or sleep from the pain. I went back to the doctor yesterday for a prescription for stronger pain meds, and finally got some sleep. It's been such a rough pregnancy so far, and we haven't even gotten to the scary part yet!

11 Weeks, Migraines, and the Promise Walk

Help us fight Preeclampsia for our baby!

I'm 11 weeks along as of yesterday. Baby looked great on ultrasound, the hematoma is shrinking again, and I can slowly start increasing my activity again. I celebrated with a slooow stroll around the neighborhood.

This past week has been a really hard one physically. I had two migraines and a lot of morning sickness. In all five of my previous pregnancies, I've had exactly three migraines during weeks 6-8. Migraines have a vascular component to them. Preeclampsia also is primarily a problem with the vascular connections between the placenta and uterus. The bulk of the work of forming those connections takes place during weeks 6-8, exactly when I had migraines. I've always wondered if there was a connection, if there was something going wrong that would trigger migraines in the moment and preeclampsia down the road.

When I made it through week 8 without a migraine, I hoped I'd be in the clear. Nope, had two in week 10. I have no idea what, if anything, that means, but it's another reminder that this is a high risk pregnancy and I need to be vigilant about my symptoms.

In other news, our family is once again doing the Chicago Promise Walk for Preeclampsia. All four kids have been training to walk the 5k, and they'd love it if you would donate a few dollars for the cause. Here's our fundraising page.

10 weeks down...

...30 to go. I'm 10 weeks pregnant today. I was diagnosed with a subchorionic hematoma a few weeks ago and told to rest. I was hoping to be cleared to resume activities at this week's appointment. Unfortunately, the hematoma has actually grown. Probably from spectating at Papa Runner's half marathon last weekend. I have to increase my rest. The good news is baby looks perfect, growing right on schedule.

I've already trained the kids to do most of the chores, so I don't have any cleaning or laundry to do. The real problem with regard to resting is cooking. I'm on a strict diet to keep my autoimmune condition under control, which is especially important now while my placenta is forming. We can't just order out all the time, nor can I ask people to bring over whatever casserole. That makes it hard. I do have a stool in the kitchen, so I can at least sit at the stove instead of stand.

kumquat

It's also been a rough week for morning sickness. I have always had an easier time than most people, for which I'm grateful, but this week it got worse. Still very tolerable, but never fun.

On a more fun note, I'm just getting to the point where I feel little flutters and wonder, was that the baby or just a muscle twitch? Still not sure it's really a kick, but lots of fun. The kids love to come talk to the baby. They all are convinced it's a boy, so we'll see. They're also fascinated with the baby-to-fruit comparison. They tell everyone they see our baby is the size of a kumquat. Pretty sure none of them have ever even heard of a kumquat before, but it's still awesome.

BIG NEWS!

Papa Runner and I are thrilled to announce we are expecting a baby due Thanksgiving Day! This was not an easy decision after five complicated pregnancies, two losses, four preemies, two IUGR babies, and two brushes with death. My Grandma said what I'm sure everyone is thinking (including us), "With all the problems you've had? Hope it goes okay!" Yeah, me, too. Love you, Grandma!

But I always wanted a big family, and I hated that preeclampsia was, I felt, taking that decision away from me. It took a lot of thought and prayer to get to this point, but we're ready and excited. I'm doing everything in my power to have a healthy pregnancy. I'm currently in the best shape of my life, I eat very clean, my autoimmune disorder is in remission thanks to a low inflammation Paleo diet, and I take folate for my MTHFR mutation. I know I can do everything right and still get sick, but I've got a great team of doctors looking after me if that happens. Even so, the more people praying the better, so if you're someone who keeps a list of prayer requests, please add Mama Runner and Baby to that list. Thanks!

Not That Simple

I've been part of an online support group for preeclampsia survivors for a number of years. It's been rather quiet lately. I recently discovered a lot of people have moved to Facebook, so I joined that group, too. I've been a part of it for only a few weeks, but already this topic has come up a number of times. Some well-meaning but misinformed person upsets a survivor by asking why she didn't just control her blood pressure better. Sometimes they suggest lifestyle changes like diet and exercise, sometimes medication, herbal supplements, or even meditation. All of them show a misunderstanding of what this condition really is.

Here is a good comparison to explain why it isn't as simple as controlling your blood pressure. Influenza is a condition caused by a virus that has a number of symptoms including high fever. Imagine your child was very sick in the hospital and possibly dying of influenza, and someone wondered why you didn't "just" control his fever with Tylenol. You'd look at them like they were nuts. Fever is not the primary problem, it's just a symptom. Even if you control it with Tylenol (which you probably are already doing), that won't actually fight the virus. Your child would still be very ill.

The same thing is true of preeclampsia. It's a condition caused by a poorly functioning placenta that has a number of symptoms including high blood pressure. It's rather ridiculous to suggest that we should fix it by controlling our blood pressure. The high blood pressure isn't the primary problem, it's just a symptom. Even if we control it (which we attempt to do), that still wouldn't make the placenta work better. We'd still be very ill.

The reason this idea of "just" controlling our blood pressure is upsetting to survivors is because it suggests what we and our babies went through is our own fault for not taking better care of ourselves. It's not. We don't know why some women have faulty placentas, and we don't have the slightest idea how to fix it. It's not just a simple matter of better lifestyle choices or medication.

On the Vaccine Debate

Vaccination is the topic of the day. Whenever it comes up, I always really, really want to share my thoughts, but I also really, really don't want to get into an argument. I consider myself to be middle of the road. And you know what they say about people standing in the middle of the road: they get run over in both directions. That has been my experience in a nutshell.

When I had my first child, I felt it was my duty to make sure I was doing the absolute best I could for her. I couldn't just blindly make decisions. Her life and well being were too important. It was my responsibility to ask questions and get informed. And I had questions about vaccines. Questions like:

• Because she was premature, should she be vaccinated according to her actual or adjusted age?
• Would she be at greater risk for side effects due to her more fragile health?
• Would it be better to delay the shots until she was a little older and stronger?
• Should we spread them out a little more so she wasn't exposed to so many things at once?
• What is actually in these things, anyway?
• How serious are the diseases we're preventing? 
• Does benefit outweigh risk?

When I asked these questions of the pro-vaccine camp, the response I got was this:

OH EM GEE! How dare you question the almighty vaccine! You're just a stupid, crazy hippie who's bought into a discredited study on autism! Your children will die a slow, painful death, and they'll infect half the world's population on the way out! Won't you feel terrible then, but you'll deserve it, you stupid, worthless piece of crap! Let's see what your magic herbs and oils do for you then! Your children should be taken away from such a terrible, neglectful parent!

I was very taken aback by this response. It was full of hate, fear-mongering, and bullying. But you know what wasn't there? Answers. Answers to my very legitimate questions. (And I hadn't even mentioned autism!) I started to wonder, if they couldn't offer facts to convince me, if they had to resort to these bullying tactics, could it be they were hiding something?

So I asked questions of the anti-vaccine camp. The response was this:

OH EM GEE! How can you even consider injecting that poison into your child? They'll totally get autism or ADD or a learning disability! And if they manage to avoid that, their digestive system will be destroyed! They'll have autoimmune diseases and hormone imbalances and everything you can imagine! Your child will suffer and it'll be all your fault! It's all a big conspiracy anyway, and I can't believe you're falling for it! It's government mandated child abuse!

Again, I was surprised at the bullying tactics and lack of actual answers. Now both sides looked insane. How was I supposed to know what was truly best for my child? Was I supposed to just blindly trust one side? Which one? It took a lot of wading through this garbage to find any kind of facts. I eventually came to a conclusion that seems right for my family. What is it? It's not really your business. It's right for us, and that's all that matters. 

I'm not going to tell you TO vaccinate. I'm not going to tell you NOT TO vaccinate. I WILL tell you to ignore emotional arguments. I WILL encourage you to get informed with real facts and not just blindly do what you're told, whether it's by your mainstream pediatrician or your alternative chiropractor. Beyond that I really don't care what you do. But we absolutely MUST get rid of the propaganda, fear mongering, emotional blackmail, and bullying tactics on both sides. If you can't offer facts, if you can only offer coercion, your position isn't actually very sound and you look like a fool. 

You know what bothers me most about this whole issue? The accusations of abuse and neglect for anyone who disagrees. Guess what? A parent who is trying to do the best for their child is not abusive or neglectful! At worst they're wrong, but they're lovingly wrong. So knock it off! 

On Judging

In the last few months, I've heard a lot of different people in a lot of different formats complaining about being judged on a lot of different issues. It was already on my heart. Then this commercial started making the rounds this week and gave me the push to write:




I don't like this commercial. Here's why.

I first want to acknowledge that there are some very judgmental people out there. I also don't know all the details of all those situations I mentioned above. But when I do know the details, almost invariably the person accused of judging hasn't actually said or done anything judgmental. The only thing they've done is make a choice different from the person feeling judged.

It's been my own experience that when I feel judged, it's usually my own insecurities being projected onto the other person. Since this post was motivated by a formula commercial, I'll give you that as an example. I was really committed to breast feeding. Due to my circumstances, I was physically unable to produce enough milk. I nursed and also supplemented with formula. When I nursed in public, I felt SO self conscious. I felt exposed, and was sure everyone thought I was being a shameful exhibitionist. Then when I pulled out a bottle, I felt guilty over not being able to provide all my babies needed. I was sure everyone was judging me for giving my children less than best. In reality, most people couldn't have cared less what I was doing. They were too busy feeling insecure about what *they* were doing.

Parenthood, and for that matter life, is full of difficult choices. It's often hard to know the right thing to do. I firmly believe we are all doing the best we can with our specific circumstances, strengths and weaknesses, family dynamics, with the information, resources, and support available to us. If my choice is different from yours, it doesn't mean one of us is right and one is wrong. It's just different. I've been working hard the last few years to own my choices, not to question them every time I see someone who chooses differently. I'm also trying to own my insecurities, to realize that my feelings of inadequacy are my own and not other people judging me.

So back to the commercial. I don't like it because it "confirms" our worst fears. The stay at home moms really do think you neglect your child by working away! The working moms really do think you're a useless waste of talent if you stay home! The breast feeders, the formula feeders, the home schoolers, the public schoolers, the cloth diaper-ers, the Western medicine-ers, they all really are judging you!

No, they're not. At least most of them aren't. And, in my opinion, the ones who seem most judgmental are often the most insecure in their own choices, and their "judgment" is really just defensiveness to convince themselves they really are doing the right thing. I like what this woman wrote: People don't think about you nearly as much as you think they do. So next time you feel judged, ask yourself, are they really judging me or am I judging myself? Am I just insecure? Or are they? And does it really matter what they think anyway?

Put some clothes on!

You know why I haven't blogged in a while? Because I haven't blogged in a while. I have to do the obligatory "It's been so long, new resolve, new focus, blah blah whatever" post. Screw it. Here's what's on my mind today.

Papa Runner and I watched the ball drop in Times Square last night. Taylor Swift performed wearing a sparkly bra under a cropped white suit jacket for the first half of her medley, then took off the jacket for the second half and just had on the bra.

I have no desire to discuss the relative modesty of the outfit, first because the topic has been talked to death and I'm sick of it, and second because it actually covered more than your average bikini top so wasn't *that* bad on our society's scale. What bothered me about it was that it was 20 freaking degrees out!

SERIOUSLY?!?

I went shopping for winter church outfits for my girls and was once again disgusted by all the short sleeved dresses. You can hardly find long sleeves. It snows here, for crying out loud! Why on earth are there *any* short sleeved options, let alone a majority? A friend thinks it's a conspiracy theory to make us spend more money buying a sweater to go over. BUT this year, many of the *sweaters* were short sleeved. SERIOUSLY?!?

I'm starting to think the real conspiracy is to convince women from toddlerhood that the point of clothes is not to protect you from the elements but to look nice for other people. If you can teach the four year old to freeze to death in her cute Christmas dress, it'll be that much easier to convince the fourteen year old to dress sexy. Not in this house. My kids and I will be warm, thank you very much.