The end of my journey

The decision to try again did not come easy. The decision not to try again will be much harder.

The following is a detailed description of the last few years of my life in regards to my trying to conceive journey. It's very detailed so read at your own risk. Thank you, in advance, for caring enough to want to know what it's been like for me and my family.

After the miscarriage in April this year my heart was completely broken. It was the second time I miscarried. I had so many unanswered questions. I wanted to know why my body and my God would allow me to get pregnant and not allow me to carry a child for the second time in 3 years. I thought I was doing everything right. I was eating better, avoiding hazards, taking prenatal vitamins and trying to exercise more. I started a pregnancy journal to keep track of my miracle, every step of the way. If I had known my journey would be so short, would I have chosen that path regardless? At the time I felt pregnant. I was experiencing everything that the forums and the books said I would. It had been 11 years since I had my last child so I kind of forgot what to expect. I couldn't pick up the phone and call someone every time I had a question so I turned to the internet. I just wanted to talk to other women going through the same thing I was going through. It was helpful in a lot of ways and scary in others. Reading what some of these poor women had gone through as they were trying to conceive was heart wrenching. Following along on their journey I felt like I was going through it with them. I could relate to a lot of things they were going through because I had been there, in 2009. I tried to encourage them and show them a lot of love. They were so scared and sad as they poured their hearts out to their new found internet family. That's what it was, really, a family. As I reached the point where I too needed to cry on someone's shoulders I leaned on these same women. They helped me understand so much of what was going on in my heart and in my body. I came to terms with the idea that it wasn't uncommon and that there was likely nothing wrong with me or my husband. For 2 months I was adamant about not going through that ever again. I told myself it made no sense to try again and put my self or my family through that heartache. It was so hard on everyone.

In June my husband and I decided that if we were going to try again, this was probably the best time to do it. After all, we're only getting older. We've wanted another baby since Gabe was born in 2001. In my heart I was so torn. My heart kept telling me to try again but my mind was terrified that I would only miscarry again.  I started taking prenatal vitamins right away and drinking a lot of water. It didn't happen in June but in July, I had a really good feeling. Sure enough, after a long vacation to Atlantic Beach, NC we got our wish! I was hesitant because I had several negative test results and then a positive. I made an appointment with my family Dr. to get confirmation only to get 'inconclusive' results. She said there was a line but it was so faint she wanted to wait a week and test again. That was on a Thursday. My heart was literally in my feet as I felt her stare directly through me. I could see the pain in her eyes. I could feel her compassion and the doubt that radiated from her tightly shut lips. Her body language was a red flag, waving in my face, clenching my heart and igniting my tears. I insisted on a blood test, right then and there. In the 5 seconds or so that it took her to respond I convinced myself of what was about to happen in the days to come. I knew I needed my hCG numbers so I would have something to compare them to with the numerous, eminent blood draws that would take place in the near future. I suppose, since I'd been down this road before, my mind was telling me there was only one way out.  I could feel my blood pumping to and from my heart like a drum. I could feel my skin clam up and my throat closing fast. I had to get out of that office before I exploded! The 15 steps to the truck were the longest strides in history. I felt myself start to shudder and it was like I was surrounded by some unseen force of doom. I felt like some sinister spirit was hovering over me or something. I felt myself starting to get really angry.  So angry, I didn't know if I should drive right at that moment.  I had to go to work so I didn't have much choice. I called my husband and told him what had happened. I tried to keep my voice even and at least sound like I was ok. I could hear the sorrow in his voice but I think he was more concerned about me than anything. I honestly don't know what I'd do without this man but at that very moment, knowing I was lying to him, I just wanted to hang up the phone and let the flood gates fall.  I made it to work and finally told the other girl in the reception area what was going on, just in case. I called a million times throughout the day to get the results of the blood draw. I couldn't focus and I couldn't make sense of a single thought in my head. I was empty, hollow, and completely devoid of .....something. I didn't know how to feel or what to think. My internet family was amazing, as always. But even their love and support wasn't enough to fill that void. All day I was fighting tears and scared to death that the phone would ring and I'd have to hear them tell me it was over, once again. I called my OB to let him know that they would be receiving a call about my results. They scheduled an initial paperwork visit for August 27th and then my OB walked up so she put me on hold. When she returned she said with a very careful voice that my Dr. wanted to see me as soon as possible. He must have been pretty concerned when he heard I was pregnant and I hadn't even told him we were trying again. I made an appointment to see him the next day, Friday, at 4:00 p.m.

At 5:45 p.m. Thursday I got the call.  My blood draw was positive but hCG was 15, suggesting that I was 1-2 weeks along. I couldn't even comprehend what she was saying for a few seconds. All I could say is, "but I'm 4 weeks and 5 days......" and I suddenly felt sick. My fear doubled and I started to shake. My kids were standing a few feet away. I hadn't told them anything yet, and I couldn't. I just couldn't. I just smiled at them, hoping they couldn't see through it to the pain that had now taken over every square inch of my body and mind. They knew I was 'sick', or they could tell, anyway. I told them I went to see the Dr. that morning but they didn't know what for. My conscience was screaming like demons from the bowels of hell.  I turned to start dinner and the tears just started to flow uncontrollably. I finished dinner and got ready for bed. Friday came and went rather quickly and I went to my OB's office for my 4:00 appointment.  He thought it was a good idea to get another  blood draw that day, even though it hadn't been 48 hours.  He said he would feel better about another draw on Monday, and that comparing the two was better coming from the same machine. Apparently that made sense to him. I was supposed to get the call that night, no matter how late but it never came.

We were planning a trip to Cedar Point that Saturday for Gabe. It was the last weekend we had to take him before school started and it was what he wanted for his birthday. His friend was dropped off late Friday night and I went to bed shortly after. Just before that I let my teenager, Caleb know what was going on with me. He's 18 so I thought he might understand a little better.  But I could see the hurt in his eyes too. Maybe that wasn't a good idea.

We walked through the gates at 9:52 a.m. and my phone rang immediately. I'm pretty sure my heart just stopped when I saw the caller ID. At that moment no one and nothing around me existed. Dr. Gibbs said 'hello' in his morning groggy voice and asked how I was feeling. I could already hear the sorrow in his voice. He told me that my hCG was only 18 but not to feel any negative feelings about it just yet. He said this early in pregnancy the actual numbers don't mean as much as whether or not they are rising or falling. I hung up the phone and was literally afraid to speak for the rest of the day at the risk of crashing to the ground in a panic inducing fit of rage and sadness. All day Saturday I was terrified that something would happen while I was over an hour from home, walking around this amusement park with my mostly unaware family, surrounded by thousands of strangers who didn't have a clue what I was going through.  I didn't ride any roller coasters but I did get on the cable cars and the Witches Wheel. I even got Gabe on the Witches Wheel by some miracle. I rode the Matterhorn too.  They are smooth, non jerky rides and I didn't know how to explain to Gabe, who asked me to ride with him that I probably shouldn't. The restraints were very loose and I was fine.  I did end up telling him that I hadn't felt good for a few days and the Dr. said I should avoid the roller coasters.  He wasn't happy but he was more concerned that I was still sick. He kept holding my hand and giving me hugs, telling me he loved me. I love that boy. As the day progressed I started getting more and more uncomfortable.  I wasn't in pain, but something definitely wasn't right. Of all the pregnancy symptoms I had in the few days before this, the only one that was still lingering was the constipation. I know, TMI. Sorry. I was cramping a little but totally attributed it to that last, annoying symptom. On the way home, apart from being totally exhausted and drained of my emotions from having worried the entire day, I was starving. We stopped for dinner and as we were standing at the register ordering our meals I felt a sense of calm come over me. That sinister cloud of doom that had been following me around was evaporating like fog from a window. The sadness was sinking deeper but the fear was literally disappearing. I knew what was happening but I started to pray, almost out loud, that it waited about 45 more minutes until we were home.  I went to the restroom before we left and had passed some grayish pink tissue. I didn't remember that from before. I wasn't bleeding and I really wasn't in any pain.  I was uncomfortable and sad, but not in pain. When we got home I went to the restroom again, and nothing. I felt okay but decided to head straight to bed anyway.  My husband let the boys run around for a while before sending them to bed but kept them quiet enough that I was able to go to sleep easily. I woke up Sunday morning feeling surprisingly okay.  My sister was having a birthday party for my niece that day and I had been prepared to drive out there to see her.  They are about 45 minutes from our house. I took a shower and as I was exiting I started getting some strong cramping that stopped me in my tracks. I sat down and started to cry thinking this was it. For about 30 minutes I sat there and nothing happened. I still felt the cramps, some stronger than others. But they weren't letting up. I called my sister and apologized but decided not to go out there. I was afraid that things would get bad and Gabe and both of my very young nieces, not to mention the dozens of other family members at the party would have their day ruined having to deal with me and my issue. That would be very unfair of me. I laid on the couch for a little while with a heat pack on my tummy and drank a lot of water. Some time later in the afternoon our neighbors asked if we wanted to hang out and have dinner at their house and though I was initially hesitant, I decided it was close to home and I could sprint home if I needed to. I discovered not long before we headed over to their house that I was spotting. I told my husband I was fine and that I would tell him if I started to feel worse and needed to head home. The walk over seemed to take forever but I'm sure it was because my mind wasn't on walking over to the neighbors for dinner. It was everywhere else.

When my husband confessed to me how terrible it was to watch me go through the miscarriage in 2009 something in me changed. It wasn't that I didn't know how hard it must have been for him.  But at the time, in 2009 I guess I didn't realize the depth of it, from his prospective. That experience brought us closer together somehow and since then I've felt more in tune with his emotions where I'm concerned. I don't just hear him say he loves me or he's worried about me, I feel it, in a very physical way. I don't know how else to explain it. When we were leaving the neighbors Sunday night, I knew what was happening but something wouldn't let me tell him or even allow him to see me cry. I didn't want him to hurt like I was hurting. I didn't want him to worry any more than necessary. I didn't want him to be scared, like I was. When I went to bed that night all I wanted was for him to lay next to me, hold me, let me cry into his chest and just tell me that everything was going to be okay. The urge to cry out was so hard to resist. But I had to stay strong. I had to fight that urge along with all the other urges to give in to my emotions and plead with my husband to not let me go through this again. I wanted him to save me. I wanted him to be my rock and my beacon of light. But my heart wouldn't let me. I just couldn't stand to think about what he would go through if he saw me suffering, again.

I woke up around 3:30 a.m. in a world of pain and ran to the restroom. It felt like a war was taking place in my abdomen.  I knew I had pain medication left from the D&C in April but I didn't know where it was...and I was afraid to get up and look. I was afraid to move. I was in so much pain, but I fought the urge to scream out because I didn't want to wake anyone. I didn't want anyone to see me like that, again. Some time after 5:00 a.m. I was able to crawl back in bed.  The alarm sounded just after 5:30 and I started the morning routine. There was no way I was going to work like this. Since the gray tissue I passed on Saturday night, I was only spotting so I knew the worst was yet to come. When Barry was out of the shower and finishing up last minute things I decided to tell him that it might be a good idea if I stayed home from work that day.  He instantly looked worried but I tried to calmly tell him that I was cramping a little and that I just didn't want anything to happen at work. I smiled through the pain, hugged him tightly, kissed his sweet little lips and told him not to worry all while holding back a river of tears. He left around 6:40 a.m.

After he left I realized that both of my boys were still home sleeping. At that moment I prayed like never before that it would happen quickly or hold off a few more hours until they left for a planned trip to the zoo.  Around 830 a.m. the cramps were so bad that when I walked to the bathroom I was hunched over, holding my stomach and trembling, probably from fear. I had started to bleed pretty heavy and felt like I was going to vomit and cry all at the same time. I was scared to death that the kids would see me like that but more so that they were going to leave and I was going to have to do this alone. What was I thinking? I was thinking I simply can't put my husband through that again. I had no idea it would happen so fast this time. Caleb was able to find my Vicodin in the medicine cabinet so at least I had that. The kids walked out the door around 9:10 a.m. and at 9:20 I was crying in the bathroom and passing the first of 2 large masses. If you've never experienced this I can only tell you that the pain ranks right up there with child birth. That is essentially what is happening, just at an earlier stage. And if you've never given birth, I don't know what to compare it to. I took a Vicodin and I still thought I was going to die. The sorrow that comes from this process probably makes the pain feel much worse, I think. About an hour and a half later I was able to get up and meander back to the couch where I watched a movie or two. My husband called to check on me and again, I told him I was okay. I told him I had passed some tissue but that I was fine and lying on the couch watching t.v. He asked me if I wanted him to come home.  I was dying to tell him 'YES!" I wanted him to come home and hold me and let me cry and drown myself in this horrible chasm of emotions.  But I told him 'no'. I told him I would be okay and he could call as often as he'd like to check on me. Around 1:10 or so in the afternoon the cramps returned. They caught me by surprise because I was just getting to a point where I thought I might fall asleep for a minute.  I sat up quickly and felt the immediate sensation of migraine mixed with cramps and numbness from my waste to my knees. I didn't know if I could stand up. I honestly thought I might fall right back down. I made it up and back into the bathroom, once again, just in time. Part of me thought it might be a good idea to try to keep the tissue and have it tested.  All I could do was stare at it for a long few minutes until finally, the tears began to flow. Before I knew it I was sobbing. Why did I think it was a good idea to try again? Why did I think it would be any different than the last two times? And why in the world did I chose to go through this process alone? What a fool I was.

Here I sit, Thursday morning, one week after the first blood draw and I still don't know when this process is going to end. I went in this morning for another blood draw for a final hCG count. They need it to be less than 5 and it was. I just made the call for the results. I thought they would call me but I couldn't wait any longer. I'm still bleeding and passing small pieces of tissue but it's normal, or so they say. I don't feel normal, by any means. I feel empty. I feel old, inadequate, and somehow alone, still.  My heart is broken. My soul is bruised. I feel so...incomplete. What happened to me? What happened to the girl that could look misery in the face and smile? What happened to the strength it took me 25 years to find? What happened to my optimism and my ability to overcome adversity? I feel so defeated.

As my journey reaches it's end I'll continue to try to reach out to my friends and family who have offered their shoulder to cry on so that I don't feel so alone in this. My OB Dr. believes that my progesterone levels have been the culprit and that if we wanted to try again, there is a way to boost those levels.  Again, this would mean several weeks of waiting to see if in fact, my progesterone levels are to blame. I don't know if I want to take that chance again. I can't afford fertility treatments and tomorrow I'll be 37 year old...as will the eggs that may or may not be left in my body.  I know I could try again. I just don't think I want to.  At least not today. 

I've read blogs and books and articles about miscarriage and I've been through it 3 times now (4 if you count the one I probably had in 1994). I still don't know how to feel. I still don't know how to grieve. I still don't know how to accept anything about this and just move on. What I do know is that I have a family, a very large family with friends and blood relatives that love me dearly. I feel so blessed and so honored to have them all so close to my heart. I have 2 wonderful boys and a wonderful  step daughter that have literally made my life worth living for the last 18 years. And I have my amazing husband and best friend who has been my core strength for the last 12 years. I wish I could tell him how sorry I am that I couldn't bring him another child, another piece of us to cherish and love.  I know that he's happy with me and with our family.  I just wish I could've given him one more reason to love being a part of this family. In time, they say I'll be okay. In time they say I'll learn to deal with this and move on. I hope that one day I can look back and be glad that we tried.  I don't know which pain is worse, the pain that comes from losing 3 babies, or the pain that comes from knowing you can't (or likely won't)  have any more. Either way, I hope that no one that I love has to endure it.  And to those of you that have, I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am and how much I love you. I want to thank you for being a part of my journey in life, through good times and bad. But I especially want to thank you for loving me when I needed it the most. I have felt more love in the last few years than I have my entire life. I think that is what has helped me to pull through these terrible times. I've been blessed to have most of you since I was a child. From this day forward, I vow to show you the same love you've showed me in the hopes that somehow, I'll learn to love myself, again, too.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Finding Closure

I once had a dream that I was walking through the woods on a dirt path unsure of where I was going. Branches blocked my path, wind blew debris in my path and I noticed the sun only shone on certain areas of the woods. It seemed the path was chosen for me, so I followed it.  I was scared and uncertain about my choice to follow it but I didn't want to go back to where I started, wherever that may have been. I was terrified. I couldn't speak. I couldn't cry. I couldn't scream for help.  All I could do is move forward. At some point I reached what I presume was my destination. Instantly I felt relief, comfort, and warmth. It was almost like taking off a coat when you're too hot and sitting in front of a fan. After what felt like a very long time, I realized I wasn't alone. I could hear giggles. And I swear I could smell flowers.  But I couldn't see anything. Just empty space.  No obstructions.  No path. Just empty space.  The giggles were children, I was sure.  But whose? I didn't have any at the time. I was too young.  It didn't matter.  It was a wonderful sound.

These last few days have been very difficult in many ways.  My emotions have been all over the place.  My heart has never hurt so bad.  My eyes felt like they were just going to dissolve in my head, soaked with salty tears. The emptiness I felt was almost too much to bare at times. I just wanted to fill it with something, anything. How was I ever going to move past it? How was I ever going to be able to be normal again? Would I ever be able to think about this or talk about this and not feel this way? I even had moments where I felt guilty, selfish and undeserving of all the love and passion around me.  Who were all these people who were reaching out to me? Why were they hurting for me? Why did they care so much about this hell I was going through? And what about my husband and my children? This was their hell too. How could they bare the weight of this devastation but still stand next to me with loving eyes and loving arms? These are my angels.

This wasn't the first time I'd suffered loss.  It seems there's been more of that than anything else in my life.  People have always said that God would never give us more than we can handle.  And I agreed adding that I must be one tough chick. In every loss in my life I was able to find something to grasp. Something to hold on to. Something to pull me through.  And I knew that one day I would be okay.  It took me 7 years to be able to talk about my mother without crying hysterically, after she'd been ripped from my life at 8 years old.  When I reached that point I realized that I'd let go of the sorrow but I'd instead found the hate and the anger that took even longer to let go of.  I found peace, eventually.  And I now know that she's in a much better place.  And even though she left my life all those years ago, she had never left my heart.  I was a part of her so essentially I would always have her.  That is what I now hold on to. My fathers passing was harder because I was older and closer to him.  I still struggle some days with my emotions, not really knowing how to feel.  But I know that one day, I'll be okay. All my loved ones in between and since then are also still in my heart. I kind of feel like a cartoon character from the movie Brother Bear. If you've never seen it, you should. It's really beautiful. Anyway, I feel like they are my strength and my will. I survive because they are all a part of me.

A few weeks ago I was pleasantly surprised with the news of this new baby and I don't think anything could have made me happier. After losing a baby a few years ago I thought this was God's gesture to me that it was still meant to be. After all, everything happens for a reason. I was scared.  But the love and the excitement was much, much bigger than the fear. When my first ultrasound was scheduled all I could think about was that day.  Once I saw this beautiful baby, healthy and strong, all my fears would subside. And when that day came and went I only felt numb. I suppose for that first few minutes anyway.  It took some time to really set in.  3 days later, the blood draw only put more fear in me.  I had to wait, again.  The range of my emotions in that 7 days was enough to cause serious damage to any healthy heart. My anxiety was out of control. The what-if's were piling up faster than I could catch my breath. And the second blood draw was like the lifting of the flood gate. Everything I had held on to at that point was rushing through me with a current that was nothing short of deadly. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Why? Just, why?

I went back to work that day because I thought it was the best place for me. If I was too busy to think about it, I couldn't be upset about it, right? My Dr. called me, which surprised me. I was expecting a nurse or secretary. His voice startled me. But somehow, it was soothing. After hanging up the phone it was like that dream. I was on that path again....and there was only one way to go.  It wasn't a choice.  I didn't need to decide.  I just needed to do what needed to be done.  This wasn't about my broken heart. This wasn't about my emptiness.  This wasn't about my pain.  It was much bigger, yet much simpler than that. This is what was meant to be. Making the call to arrange for the surgery was positively the worst call I ever had to make.  It felt like I was giving up. It felt like I was giving in to some weakness.  It hurt in a million different ways. I didn't want to call. I just didn't want to do it.

After a sleepless night I got up Wednesday morning and took a shower while my husband slept. The night was not kind to me.  I needed those few moments alone with my thoughts and my pain. When I woke him, as I sat on the bed next to him all I wanted to do was curl up next to him and cry until my body was void of tears and hurt. I looked at him and as he opened his eyes all I could feel...was love. It was as if I wasn't in control any more.  I didn't have to make any decisions. I didn't have to fight.  I didn't have to hurt or fear or pretend. I knew at that moment that I needed him near me, holding me, touching me, loving me. At the hospital, in the triage area I was panicking. He wasn't allowed to go back with me at first. 10 minutes felt like 10 hours.  I sobbed like a child until he was there, holding my hand. If I just held his hand and looked in his eyes, everything would be okay. I would be okay. I was scared. I was angry. I was sad. I was confused. I was anxious. I didn't know if I had made the right decision but it felt wrong, still.  I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to do it. I don't believe in abortion and this was a form of it. My soul was screaming out in pain inside me. When that feeling would hit me I would just look at him.  He was my drug for the next 48 hours.

I woke up as anyone coming out of anesthesia would, I think, panicking and disoriented. He wasn't there. I could feel my throat closing up on me. I could feel my innards shaking. My head was throbbing. I thought I was going to throw up. And I wanted to punch something. Hard. I wanted to scream as loud as I could...but I had no voice. I had no strength. All I could do was cry. And I did. The nurse that was helping me was wonderful. She reminded me of my aunt Karen. Very motherly. She reassured me that everything went well and I would be ok.  She showed me a copy of my heart rate through the surgery, "See...perfect. All the way through." Something about that gesture was so genuine, so loving.  It made me think that if my own mother was there, that's what she would've done. Once I was moved to the last recovery area before being released it seemed the clock was stopped. Time just wouldn't move. Where was my husband???  And then my angel arrived, racing toward me to hold my hand. Like electricity, his touch was instantly soothing. I was ok.

Of all the emotions I'd been through leading up to that day I had no idea how I would feel, after.  But leaving  that hospital was not difficult.  Walking outside into the sunshine it hit me.  Everything was going to be okay. I went home with my husband and I didn't cry all the way home.  I wanted to, but I didn't. There was a sense of calm around me.  I didn't feel all those negative feelings I'd felt in the days past. I only felt the calm. Into the evening I had a few moments of distraction. The physical pain was starting to set in as I'm sure the effects of the anesthesia and medication given earlier in the day were now pretty much gone.  They gave me a pretty strong pain medication prescription at the hospital, which I filled, just in case, on the way home. I did end up taking 2 that night.  I felt scared when that pain set in because I didn't anticipate it. I thought it would be bearable. I'm not one to take much of anything, even for a head ache. That night was worse than the one before, physically. All I could do was hope it was the only night I'd spend like that. After the nurses called to check on me and Aunt Angie stopped by for a visit I had some time to really think about everything that had happened in the last few weeks.  Again, I remembered the path in my dream. I remembered that I didn't have a choice. The path was right in front of me. No matter how badly I wanted to remove the debris or how strong the temptation was to find another way, it was right in front of me the whole time.  That was just what was meant to be. I decided to go to the store and get some retail therapy. I thought it might do me some good to be out and about instead of home, all alone. I swear to you, the entire time I was in that store I kept hearing little kids giggling.  It was the strangest thing. Like ringing in my ears.  And at one point I stopped, stood there in the middle of an isle smiling as the tears welled up in my eyes and I sighed.  At that very moment I felt completely surrounded but there wasn't a single person standing near me. There were no children. There weren't even any adults. Just me.  But I felt absolutely, completely surrounded. It was the strangest feeling....yet it was so amazing. I left the store and went to pick up Gabe. His little face was stricken with worry. He'd been through so much in the last few days, watching me go through this grief.  My poor little guy.  He asked if I had a better day.  And I answered him, honestly.  Yes. It was amazing. Then we went for ice cream.

We stopped at another store on the way home for some Ibuprofen. I forgot at the other store. The one I went to specifically to buy Ibuprofen. When we got to the car I had Gabe look at the back of my white pants because a sweet little tiny woman in the store, who could barely speak English had the heart to tell me that I had a stain.  Now I could've freaked out and ran for the car when she told me.  In any other case, I would've.  But I didn't really care.  I don't know why. I just didn't. Gabe said it looked like poop. That was nice. Now, I go to this store about 3 days a week. Do you think there's a chance anyone other than the little tiny woman saw it?  Oh well.  It was chocolate, by the way. I was eating my McFlurry in the car on the way to the store and dropped some Reeses Peanut Butter cup crumbs between my legs.  I thought I got it all but apparently there was some out of reach...and when I turned and slid to get out of the car...I kind of took that  peanut butter cup crumb with me.  Poor white pants.  Gabe thought it was hilarious. I guess I did too.

Looking back today, while I'm sitting at work (still wondering if that was a good idea) I think I've made great strides toward healing my heart.  I knew it was a good idea to have faith in myself. And aside from the angels in my life (friends and family) that are always there for me and have really kept me sane, all the other angels in my life have helped me too.  Maybe those children I thought I heard were really all those people I've lost that I knew were always in my heart.  Maybe somewhere, somehow, they've always been there, watching out for me, guiding me and surrounding me with love.  Maybe that's why I know that everything is going to be okay.  Life isn't always what we want it to be.  We have to take the good with the bad.  The way I see it, there's a lesson in everything.  The lesson I learned is that I am here for a reason.  More than one, actually.  I call those reasons my family.  Even the ones in heaven and the ones not related by blood but by bond.  To all of you, I owe my heart and gratitude.  Thank you for loving me.  I'm truly blessed.

Ready, set....wait.

Well, I had my first OB appointment yesterday.  It wasn't nearly as long as I'd thought but I was smart enough to go online and fill out some of the forms in advance so when I got there I had less to actually write.  A lot of questions, a lot of free stuff and a lot of blood work! 7 vials of blood.  Seriously? I don't remember that part.  I swear it was like 3 vials with Gabe.  If I had known they were going to take that much I may have planned to have someone drive me home! It wasn't so bad. I didn't feel weak or anything.  But my arm sure is sore today. Should have had my mother in law do it. She's fabulous! Never hurts, Never. I was worried that I wouldn't be able to pee in the cup though. I went to the bathroom before I left work. Doh! What was I thinking??  Not a problem. Good ole over-active kidneys had my back. I could've filled 10 of those cups, I swear! And what's with the quick catch??  Seriously....if I have to go....I have to go. I don't have time to open that little packet and wipe and unscrew the top to the pee cup.....I don't have that kind of control people. We're talking 5 seconds max from the time I sit down on that seat. For the love of all things sane don't ask me to do that again! That took some major muscle control and concentration and I was NOT prepared for that!  I suppose I could've prepared all that before I sat down.  So much for thinking ahead, eh? I'm sure I'll get another chance to do it the right way. Only, what...8 months to go??

I'm done with the TMI moment. Sorry. 10 days.  I have to wait 10 stinkin' days to see my little bean!!  Do these people not understand how imperative it is that my mind be set at ease? All I can think about 24 hours a day is this little sprout. Every move I make starts with my little raspberry. I eat raspberries. I dream raspberries. I cry raspberries! Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth??? Okay. Okay. Okay. I'm good.  Whew! I'll be fine for the next 10 days.  It gives me something fabulous to look forward to.  Right? Baby needs to bake a little longer, anyway. In 10 days everything will be much more....real.  I'll stay focused and just live my every day life....eat, sleep, work, cook, clean, eat, sleep, work....That'll keep me plenty busy. Hmm...I think I can actually hear the clock ticking. Wait, I don't have a clock. Is it Friday yet??

Gabe seems to be exhibiting some jealousy already.  I'm not sure how to handle it now so I can't imagine how it'll be once the baby actually gets here.  He actually said to me, "not everything is about you having a baby". Are you kidding me, Gabriel Marcus???  Yes, it is.

I felt bad so I had to spend some time with him last night. We talked a little about the baby but I kept it to a minimum. Then it was all about him for a while. We started a paper model of our house.  It's just sort of like a pop-up mini-model.  We just did the first floor and we're about 1/2 way done.  Maybe 1/3 of the way.  He likes miniature things, always has.  One of his favorite mini-collectibles was some food that Aunt Cheryl bought him when he was about 4 or 5.  He loved those dang things and I was never able to find any more of them anywhere.  I think the closer it gets to delivery, the harder this is going to be on him. He's used to being the baby. He's used to getting pretty much anything he wants.  Well, to a degree.  Hopefully it won't take long for him to swallow the fact that we love him just as much as we always have, and just as much as the baby.  He'll always be my little Roo.  I don't know why he's so worried. I told him he would be babysitting this baby one day. His response? "Ok. But only if I'm getting paid for it." Hmmm...can't wait for that. Wait until he hears what he's getting paid with. Ha!

One thing I'm really not looking forward to is the whole daycare issue.  It was kind of a nightmare with Gabe and we were lucky to have Grandma Bev.  Then, when Gabe was a little older we were more comfortable sending him to daycare.  This baby will have to go to daycare at 6 weeks old or less.  This time I think I might want to find someone that does it out of their home.  The only part that scares me is figuring out what to do when that person is sick.  I'll have to have an alternate.  We paid $160/week when Caleb and Gabe were both in daycare and that was 10 years ago.  Ugh.  Great, now I have a headache.  I promise you, if it was possible to stay home, I would.  Can someone please just buy my groceries? I can totally figure out the rest.

So, this is 7 weeks.  I'm getting more and more excited every day.  I really want to find out what we're having, when we're able.  But I don't think Barry wants to find out. This is definitely a problem. I don't want green and yellow everything again.  I want to be able to shop gender specific isles. And I want to start shopping as soon as I can.  If it's a girl...I want to buy girly things.  I want to know that I CAN buy girly things.  And if it's a boy I want to be able to buy blue stuff, man. There is no way I could find out and not tell him so it definitely has to be one way or the other. If he doesn't give in I am going to make the last trimester of this pregnancy less than tolerable. I'm not playin', Silver.  You know you want to know. Sweetheart. You have 8 weeks to change your mind.

I could use a little help in the persuasion department.

Ok, cross your fingers and toes for me.  I need to get through the next 10 days with my sanity.  I've read every magazine, flyer, booklet and pamphlet that the Dr. gave me yesterday just to 'brush up' on my momma skills.  I've filled out all the cards for the free stuff.  I've added all the important dates to the calendar.  I've filled out the information in my keepsake book. I've marked the upcoming milestones. I've made list after list of things I'll need and things I'll need to do.  I've clipped some coupons and I've modified my do's and don'ts list. I'm a planner. It's what I do.  By golly, folks, I think I've got this!

Only 32 weeks to go!

Weekly Chronicles...week 6

6 weeks and 4 days, I think.  My first OB appointment is Monday, March 5^th and I’m so excited I could pee!  In fact, I could pee every 10 minutes. Really.  I honestly wish I knew how something the size of a blueberry could be making me feel like I have to go every moment of my day.  Actually, I already know.  It’s just amazing to me, much like every other aspect of pregnancy.  I guess since it’s been 11 years, I’ve forgotten a lot of it. 

Here I am, 6 weeks in and already feeling like a buffalo.  How is that even possible?  According to my scale, I lost 4 lbs.  Another amazing aspect, eh? Physically, I’m feeling a little better this week.  The headaches have subsided. I also got the bright idea that I could still have coffee…decaffeinated.  Oh yeah.  It’s not even close to the same.  But I like to think I’m tricking myself.  I still feel nauseated at times.  It sort of comes in waves. It could be my prenatal vitamins too.  Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

Last weekend we did a lot of relaxing, watching movies and just chillin’ at home.  Saturday night Barry and I were watching something and we had about 30 minutes to go when Gabe finished his last movie.  Bored to death he kept coming out into the living room and trying to get our attention.  I didn’t mind the first few times and I even tried to make suggestions for things he could do to occupy himself.  The one thing he couldn’t do was watch the movie we were watching.  Bridesmaids is not a great one for 10 year olds. He was getting more and more antsy and I just couldn’t take it any more.  I yelled, “if you can’t find something to play with in that bedroom full of 10,000 toys then we’re just going to have to give them all away!”.  It sounded really mean….like my next move was chopping the heads off his GI Joes.  5 Seconds after he turned around with his sad little face and walked into his room with his head down, I lost it again! This time, I was sobbing uncontrollably! I felt terrible for yelling at my little nugget like that!  I was trembling, shaking, having a hard time catching my breath because I was crying so hard!  I haven’t cried like that in a very long time.  And 5 minutes from that point…I was laughing. You know, the laugh that is so out of control you feel your face getting warm and you have to cross your legs extra tight!?  What…the…hell???  Really, Mr. Hormone, you trickster! You Jerk! You sick, twisted devil!!  Yeah. I’m not liking this part too much.  I never know if something is going to strike me a certain way and either the tears will begin to flow….or I’ll be running to the bathroom! Well…walking really fast, anyway.  Running hurts the ladies. And that, is a whole new episode. Good thing I haven’t spent that Victoria’s Secret gift card from Christmas yet.  Thanks, Ma and Pa Silver! I’m definitely going to need more support for these girls! Sorry, TMI?

I think I’ve been dealing with the physical symptoms pretty well.  I keep my mind preoccupied by making lists.  Yes, I’m a little OCD.  There is a lot to do between now and October.  So if I make lists I can look at them when I’m completely out of my mind and know that at some point, I had my crap together. I don’t know what we’re going to do about daycare.  I’ll call around at some point.  But I’m not sure if I want to put this baby in a center or find someone who does it out of their home.  There are fears either way I look at it.  I’d love to just stay home after the baby…but my lavish lifestyle won’t allow it.  In all seriousness…this part is the part that sucks the most.  The idea that I’ll be paying out the wazoo again for child care is not something I look forward to.  On one hand, it’s astronomical.  On the other, I understand that they have to pay their employees and other bills just like I do.  You can’t really put a price on the safety and well being of your child.  Speaking of paying out the wazoo…I wonder if they’ll do an ultrasound Monday. 

I am, after all high risk. What, with my old age and all.  I’m over 35 and I’ve miscarried twice so they have to keep an extra eye on me.  That works for me. I read a lot of pregnancy forums and blogs so I don’t feel so alone with all this anxiety I’m carrying around.  I’m a worry wart to the 100^th degree.  I won’t lie. Every day I wake up hoping and praying that it’s a good day and that nothing comes in the way of another joyous day of morning sickness, cramps, 47 trips to the bathroom to pee, starvation pains, uncontrollable hormones and gas that could seriously injure my loved ones.  Because that, my friends is a clear sign that everything is A-ok.  So if I’m sitting next to you having an awesome conversation and suddenly let one loose don’t mind my giggles.  I’m not embarrassed in the slightest.  I’m just excited and happy to be farting like an old fat lady. 

Among the obvious, I have a few other things to discuss with my new best friend at the OB office.  Like whether I should trust that Chinese Gender Chart, whether I should get a fetal Doppler for home and what kind of exercises I can do.  A girl needs to know these things.  I tried 5 of those charts and they all say “girl”.  Confucius is in for some hurtin’ if I have a boy after all that! I think the fetal Doppler would set me at ease because I could listen any time I wanted for the little ba-boom, ba-boom of my little beans heart.  Barry feels differently. The first time we couldn’t find the heartbeat, he might just have a coronary.  Maybe the Doppler isn’t such a good idea.  And as for the exercises, my butt is only getting bigger.  I never really lost all the weight after Gabe but this time it’s different.  I was doing so good with my 4-5 days a week routine….and I haven’t really done much of anything for 2 weeks because I’m scared I’ll somehow cause another miscarriage.  Maybe that’s irrational.  But it’s real in my head and I can’t fight that feeling right now.  So….if I can’t do it with Billy or Carmen….who can I do it with???

That’s all the exciting milestones for this week.  I’ll have much more to say next week after my appointment, I’m sure.  Since when have I not had more to say? Stay tuned!! Thanks for reading about my prenatal endeavors!

A new beginning

Life is grand. I never thought I'd be having another baby at this point in my life but here we are. I'll be 37 before this little zygote is born.  I'll also be the mother of an 18 year old, an 11 year old and a 19 year old (step daughter).  There is probably a fairly large amount of people out there that think I'm crazy.  And maybe I am. But I couldn't be happier.

My first reaction to the news was good...but I felt like a loaded gun.  I was going to cry, but not for the reasons you think.  I was terrified. I'm still sort of ready to blow.  But I'm doing okay with it.  I already feel different this time than I did with the last pregnancy that resulted in miscarriage.  My boobs hurt pretty bad.  I feel nauseated, but haven't thrown up.  I've had a 3 day headache, which I now believe is caffeine withdrawals.  I stopped drinking coffee the minute I found out, literally.  Anyone that knows me knows I drink entirely too much coffee.  Maybe I should have weaned myself off.  Honestly, I felt like I had a super bad hang over all weekend.  You know, the kind where you turn your head and you feel like you're going to spin out of control and fall on your face? The vice grips on my temples were relentless.  And the dizziness was out of control.  In fact, that part is still lingering a little.  I feel like I could fall asleep at every moment.  I was tired a lot last time too.  But this time is different. It's not just sleepiness.  My entire body just wants to forfeit. I don't want to pick up my feet to walk! Last week I thought I was coming down with something because of the fatigue.  I crunched some numbers and found that it wasn't a bug but a BABY! Wow.  Just, wow.  This is so surreal.

At this point I know it's going to be hard for the first month or two.  I'm so scared that I'll lose this baby too.  Every little ache, cramp, and strain makes me gasp.  I haven't slept very good since the news and I'm sure it's that lingering fear.  I'm told it will get better and I pray that it does.  I tried for so long after that loss to figure out what I did wrong or why it happened.  I know it's more common than I thought. I know I didn't do anything wrong. I know everything happens for a reason.  And I know that I'll never know why.  I'm keeping a pregnancy journal this time to keep track of everything.  I'm told this should help too.  I won't put nearly as much in this blog as I will in the journal.  I'll spare you all the details of my innards.  But here, I can at least share my thoughts and fears and maybe get feedback and support from my awesome support system of family and friends.  The ones that read my blogs, anyway.

A lot of changes will take place in the months ahead.  Some big some small.  We'll have to train the dogs to stay off the couch and our bed from now on.  I'm a little nervous about how they will act with a baby.  They're already jealous of each other! We'll figure it out but I'm sure it'll take some time.  The one thing I already mentioned to my husband was that we were going to have to do some serious spring cleaning to make room for this little one.  I think we'll rent a dumpster in the spring.  That just sounds like the easiest thing to do.  Some things we'll donate.  Maybe I'll even try to have a garage sale prior to the dumpster rental.  We'll see how I feel. My workout routine will change too.  I don't even know what I'm allowed to do.  I did Tae Bo last night but I took it very easy. My diet has changed already too.  I printed out the 'do not eat' list and cut out the caffeine.  I've been drinking a ton of water. I even put a case in my trunk. I bought my prenatal vitamins over the weekend and started those too.  So far, so good.

This little baby is as close to a miracle as I can imagine.  I intend to do my best throughout this pregnancy to ensure a happy, safe, healthy delivery.  And from that moment on I will be the best mom I've ever been. Thank God for this little miracle.