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!