On Not Knowing the Gender

When we were pretty sure we were going to wait to find out the gender of our baby, I sought advice from a few friends who had done the same. My friend Brooke, who waited with her second, had mentioned that while she's so glad she waited, it's sometimes hard for her to picture that the daughter she has, was the same baby she was pregnant with and I feel like I can understand that a lot more now.

Despite the stress and the anxiety (and ugh - the physical discomfort), I did love my pregnancy with Mary. Only it didn't feel like it was my pregnancy with her so much as my pregnancy with a baby. And I loved that baby. I loved the kicks and the crazy movement (she was a very active one!). I loved witnessing my body provide for another child (something I will never take for granted), and I loved hearing the baby during my NSTs and seeing the baby on the ultrasound (though I didn't look at them too much out of fear I'd accidentally see boy/girl bits). My pregnancy with her was special and there will be aspects of it I'll miss (the inability to roll over at night and stabbing crouch pain not being among them).

I wanted to document my time with this baby, just as I had done with Cale and Finn. A big part of that is people always say "you don't take as many pictures with the second one" and I feel like I've already proved that stigma wrong - because Finn is my second child and I did take as many pictures during my pregnancy with him as I did with Cale. So it's only fair that I do the same for the third child.

 When I look back on my pregnancy pictures with Mary it's almost strange to think that we didn't know who she was. I waffled back and forth between thinking we were having another boy, and thinking she was a girl. I feel like I carried just the same as I had during my other pregnancies and didn't feel much different physically. I never had strong mother's intuition, and often would tell people when they asked what my guess was, that I thought 55% girl, 45% boy. I had five vivid dreams of delivering a baby. Four of those times the baby was a girl. The Chinese Gender chart said I was having a girl, but almost all of my ultrasound techs and nurses would refer to the baby as a "he" during my appointments (none of them knew). The woman who gave me a pedicure shortly before delivery was sure I was having a boy, but clearly my two year old knew best.

The morning of my induction I could not sleep. I took a shower at 4am and I talked to my baby for the last time in utero. I rubbed my belly and I said, "I think you're a girl. I could be wrong, but I don't care as long you come our healthy and screaming. Hang in there baby, a little bit longer."

And later that night when she came out - healthy and screaming - we were overcome with what was hands down one of, if not the, best surprises I've ever had. I'm so glad we waited, and am so glad we have this little girl.

................................................................................................

{DIY} Maternity Pictures

When we were living in Georgia I had the same photographer who took my maternity pictures with Cale, also take maternity, delivery, and newborn pictures of Finn. She is an amazing photographer and has become a friend over the years. That same dear friend is coming to Texas to once again, capture images of our newest babe and our family. I cannot wait.

Because she will be here for (knock on wood!) the delivery and to get some newborn shots, we did not hire a photographer for any maternity pictures. But I still wanted some to document this important part of our life and my time with this baby, so I did a few DIY style where I just set the camera to a timer and snapped about a million in the hopes that I'd get a few decent ones. My two favorite were probably the ones I shared here. Then fortunately for me, my sister-in-law was willing to take some more pictures for us. With a little help of picMonkey I tweaked the colors, cropped the pictures, and voila! instant maternity pics on the cheap! 

 

 My SIL captured this picture, but my sweet friend Priscilla used her photoshop magic to clean it up.

 

   

   

 

................................................................................................

A Little Pumpkin is on the way: Surprise Baby Shower

There is a great little breakfast place about 20 minutes from our house. We hadn't been since April, so when Miles suggested we go this weekend, I thought it was a great idea.  When Miles came home from hunting, he showered and we left. As we headed out there he mentioned that the last time we were there it took awhile and maybe there was somewhere else we should go. Knowing that if he doesn't get food, particularly breakfast, he gets really hangry (read, totally annoying to be around), I threw out the suggestion that we just go to Cracker Barrel instead, but we decided that we may as well see what the wait is like first. So we walked into this restaurant and I knew there was no way Miles (and probably Finn as well, who takes after his dad with his passion for breakfast) would be patient while we waited. Miles said something about "let me just check and see what it looks like" and I was about to tell him he was an idiot because clearly all these people in front of us were waiting for a table, but he walked further into the restaurant, so I followed. As I walk in, he turns and says "well, you could sit here" and points to a table where I first look at my friend Julia who was sitting there. My brain was starting to think "oh, Julia is here" but then I looked around the table and saw several other friendly faces and then saw my sister-in-law Jenny smiling with this totally cute, mischievous smile and I knew they had all pulled a fast one on me.

Miles took Finn to get breakfast elsewhere and I joined the ladies for a really lovely brunch/surprise baby shower. Jenny had contacted some friends and family a while ago and had absolutely surprised me which was not only incredibly thoughtful and sweet, but it took out any anxiety about having a baby shower. We didn't play typical shower games - in fact the game Jenny had for us was a cute pumpkin trivia game to go along with the "little pumpkin" theme (fact: the largest pumpkin ever grown weighted 1,140 pounds) and the whole thing was just relaxed and comfortable which is all I could ever ask for as we celebrate this little baby.

One of my favorite things Jenny did was collect "wishes for baby" that she mailed to my friends and family. They filled them out, and sent them back to her so that I would have them the day of the shower. I didn't open them until I got home knowing that they would make me cry, but some of them were also cute/funny so I should have read them out loud.

Some of my favorites:

I hope you never forget: to put some $ in the Salvation Army bucket at Christmas (Nana)
I hope you love: oreos and Target! (Anna)
I hope you love: like Finn - he is so sweet (Jen)
I hope you ignore: gossip, pettiness & infomercials (Aunt Kate)
I hope you learn: all about your Uncle Daren (Amy)
I hope you aren't afraid: of snakes (grandma)
I hope you become: the person your dog thinks you are (Nana)
I hope you never forget: your brother Cale (Aunt Jenny)
I hope you grow: to be taller than me (Miles)
I hope you become: A Navy Pilot (Pop)
I hope you laugh: at the little things (Aunt Carmen)
I hope you learn: how fun life can be - and how to juggle, please master juggling (Aunt Kate)
I hope you get: to marry your best friend (Luciana)
I hope you grow: up happy (Aunt Jenny)

As I was going through those I realized I really wanted to type them all out - they are just so cute and it's such a great idea - to write down all the hopes and dreams and little wishes that people have for this baby. We have so many ourselves and while these last few weeks are scary and filled with anxiety, they are also so exciting because hopefully in just a few more weeks, one of our biggest wishes will come true.

................................................................................................

Pregnancy After Loss, Revisited

I posted this picture to facebook last night and immediately was sweaty and nervous.

It was the first pregnancy related thing I've posted, thus "outing" myself in facebook land. Comments are nice and sweet. But it makes me feel crazy vulnerable to have done such a thing. But the twisty part is that I decided that if the baby dies, I would want people to know that he/she existed.

And obviously those close to us, and anyone who reads this blog, have known for a bit that I'm pregnant again. But I guess this part of me that's messed up by grief and loss knows what sort of reaction I would want should things go south (again) and I am more inclined at times to prepare for that potential reality. Though good gracious, I hope it's an unlikely reality. But even if statistics are on my side (ha! as if that means anything) I still feel vulnerable having such precious and important news "out there" where people don't understand the true complexity of it all and how fragile I am about it.

But here's the thing - it's so much better this time than it was when I was pregnant with Finn.

I can literally envision bringing home a baby easier this time around. I'm planning to actually decorate the nursery (once Finn is out of it) and would like to get a lot of it done before the baby arrives. When carrying Finn, I could barely reopen the things that had been packed away in tupperware. It felt too risky. Like I would jinx myself if I did any such planning because the first time I was foolish enough to prepare for a baby, we had no baby to care for. I have even bought a few things - like an Ergo that I got on a super sweet deal on zulily! I pin pictures and daydream about a future with two living children.

I'm gaining more weight than I did with Finn. I seem to be on the same weight gain path that I was with Cale and I think that has more to do with the stress incurred during Finn's pregnancy and not the insane amount of ice cream I've consumed this go around - though I shouldn't rule that out.

When I was pregnant with Finn I rented a doppler before I was even out of the first trimester so that I could listen to the heartbeat at 10 weeks. I used it pretty much every day. When Daren was killed and I flew out to his funeral I forgot the doppler and asked a friend to mail it to me. I needed it. Even when I could feel Finn move, I needed to just listen to him. It was practically a ritual. This time I do have a doppler, lent to me by a wonderful friend - but she had already loaned it to another friend and I didn't get it until I was about 20 weeks along. And I was fine with that. And even now that I have it, I don't use it much. I enjoy it when I do, but don't "need" it the way I did when carrying Finn.

I don't always, but many times I feel at peace. I feel a sense of calmness that helps me savor the moments with this baby - the kicks and the nudges and enjoyment that comes with the gift of carrying a child.

I think part of that is the fact that I have been so very lucky to have had a good outcome. Finn's safe arrival proved to me that I can carry a baby and birth him, bring him home, and live out a version of happily ever after, you know the version that stems from the cruelest and darkest of stories. And just maybe, we'll get so lucky to do that all over again.

Another aspect that keeps me more relaxed is that I'm busier. Sounds like an oxymoron, but even though I'm not working like I was last pregnancy, but I'm chasing a two year old and playing choo choo's and reading stories and going to the library. Finn is such a wonderful distraction from my own thoughts and fears and therefore relaxes me. He's a constant reminder that sometimes, things work out in the end.

But of course the fear is still there. It creeps in at night when I'm alone with my thoughts. It creeps in when I worry it's been too long since I last felt the baby move or I just hit a grief trigger that sends me right back to losing Cale and knowing I'm not immune to lightning striking twice. When I check out eBay for double BOB's there's a thought in the back of my head telling me to wait until I have two kids to actually put in such an expensive stroller, that I shouldn't even look now. When I talk about the baby I still tend to preface things with "if" and not "when" and it took me until my sixth month in this pregnancy to even want to talk to Finn about my belly and a baby. Miles asked once why I wasn't ready and I said "I don't want to have to un-explain it to him."

In fact, one of the most difficult thoughts I have is that if we lost the baby, I don't know how I would be able to grieve and still be a decent mother to Finn. It's a thought that scares me and stresses me out and makes me cry just typing this. Because he's such a sweet boy and he's so happy and he deserves a mom that gives him her best and snuggles and laughs and tells him over and over what noise a garbage truck makes or a digger even though I don't really know what a digger sounds like. But I don't know how I would be that person if I lost this baby. When pregnant with Finn I feared going through the same grief process we did with Cale, I feared how I would handle it all. But now the worry isn't just for myself, but for the boy I did get to bring home.

So . . .things are different this time around - they are a little easier, a little more optimistic. But the fears and the stress, it hasn't gone away, not by a long shot. And all we can do is wait. Wait and hope and pray and cross our fingers and toes that in about two months, the cute little guy in this picture will have a sibling he can hug and kiss, and even poke and pester. Oh, how I wish.

................................................................................................

27

................................................................................................

Pregnancy Announcements

When I got pregnant for the first time I unintentionally started a little tradition of how I would inform Miles I was pregnant. The morning I got a positive test, I was so excited and Miles had already left for work so I had no choice but to just sit with the information all day and during that time I came up with how I wanted to tell him. I wanted it to be in special and memorable way, and I wanted Miles to be the first person I told. Well, Roscoe has always been the very first to know, but he's a good secret keeper.

With Cale, I let Roscoe do the honors when Miles came home from work:

With Finn, I got up early, took the test, and then went and made Miles a little breakfast in bed:

With my third pregnancy, I decided to write on our bellies and Finn and I would share the news together. We had just eaten a large dinner of chicken parm and Miles went to get the bath ready for Finn. While he was doing this, I took a crayola marker to our stomachs and then as Finn and I walked into the bathroom I said "let's go show daddy what's in our belly's":

It worked. Miles was shocked. I believe his reaction was "no way!" and it created a happy little memory of a far too brief pregnancy.

So this most recent time when I learned I was pregnant I really had no clue how to tell Miles. I had used up all my clever ways, but still wanted to stick with tradition and 1. come up with something special and 2. inform Miles before anyone else (ie my sister). So, I kinda cheated and just decided to reuse the same idea as last time. I had tested that morning and planned to tell him when he got home from work, only he came home a little early to grab Finn and I and head out the door to meet some people from work for dinner. So I decided to just wait until we got home (it's hard sitting through a meal with that kind of news on your mind). When we got home, I quickly wrote on Finn's belly when Miles wasn't around and let him discover it when he went to change Finn into pajamas. I made sure to be in the room to see his reaction. As soon as he lifted Finn's shirt and saw "grilled cheese" he turned to me with big optimistic eyes and smiled and lifted up my shirt which revealed "baby."

Even though it was a repeat way of telling him, it was still special and his reaction, knowing what the writing on the belly indicated, was really priceless. I made him and Roscoe get in on the action too and these pictures ended up being the way we shared the news with family a few months later: 

................................................................................................

Vulnerable Territory

I've waited to share the news for so many reasons. I wanted to get past 10 weeks when I miscarried the last pregnancy, I wanted to get out of the first trimester (even though I scoff at the notion of the "risky period" being over), I wanted to get through June and not let this news overshadow Cale's birthday, then I just wanted to wait until my next doctor's appointment and the next and the next . . .to make sure that things are still ok.

And they are. But really, I've waited to share because it makes me feel so vulnerable when I do. Because little by little I'm putting the word out there and giving people this hope, myself included, that this will all work out. I don't know if it will, but I want to hang on to the hope that it might for as long as I can. And then I want a healthy living babe in my arms as a gift for my dedication to clinging onto even the smallest amounts of hope. Seems reasonable, yes?

After I miscarried I had asked for space which people gave me and I appreciated that. I didn't want to talk about pregnancy and trying because I didn't want the pressure (though it's mostly self induced) of people knowing we were trying. Mostly I didn't want them to know if we were not succeeding. And for a little bit, we weren't. It obviously takes a little bit of time to heal, physically and emotionally, after a loss (at any stage) and when we did start trying it didn't happen right away. And I had hoped it would -I felt like so many people either got pregnant right after a miscarriage or knew someone who did. I heard so many "success" stories in that regard and it gave me false hope that I would be one of those people. But I wasn't. And month after month I felt frustrated and confused and was convinced that I'd one day be making an appointment to talk infertility with my doctor. Yes, a miscarriage and the recovery time was included, but from the time we started trying for a sibling for Finn until I got pregnant again, it had been nine months. It was sad and frustrating and I felt bad because that experience is a drop in the bucket compared what some go through to ever conceive a child. But it gave me a taste of what's that like and makes my heart ache for them. It makes me so sensitive to comments people make about being fertile or popping out kids. Because for so many, it's just not that easy.

And that was another reason that I've been hesitant to share this news. Whether you've lost a child or not, whether you've been trying for one month or one year, it is just such a tender topic and although we've been through a lot, I didn't (and don't) want our happy news to make anyone else sad or hurt. I know what it's like to be happy for someone and also sad for yourself. It's not a good feeling. But they are real feelings and I understand them.

Now that it's "out there" I will talk about this pregnancy from time-to-time and share this chapter of our lives, mostly for my own documentation, but also because there are so many wonderful people who have shared in our grief and deserve to share in our joy.

We've got about four months to go which is a lifetime and no time all at once. Hopefully it's smooth sailing from here on out. Hopefully, come December, Finn will have a sibling to grow up with. Hopefully.

So far, so good.

................................................................................................

Baby Fever

I have baby fever.

Last week I was going through old pictures and videos. I watched Finn as a newborn and a young infant. Amazed at how much he's changed and how precious it was to have that time with him. I did this on several different days and though I won't say I wasted nap time, I definitely hadn't planned on using it as a chance to walk down memory lane.

And then yesterday a good friend had a baby girl. Seeing what are some of the very first pictures of her - it just gave me the good kind of goosebumps. Babies are so special. When they make it here safely - ugh, it's just amazing.

And I'm realizing that I have a bad case of baby fever.

I will always want what I didn't have with Cale. To hear the soft noises and whimpers, to nurse a sleeping baby, to take those deep breaths and wonder how could they possibly smell so damn good. And I want what I was so very lucky to have with Finn - all of that plus an extra two years of watching him change from that sweet whimpering newborn to a fun and chatty little boy.

I had zero interest in getting pregnant before Finn turned one and when I did find out I was pregnant last fall, Finn was only 15 months and still so very much a baby himself.  Even at two years, he's still my baby. So while I was excited back then - it wasn't so much a result of this built up baby fever, but rather for the possibility of what that could have meant for our family.

But now - now, I have the fever. I daydream about snuggling a newborn and getting to experience the joys, and trials, of parenting all over again.

The truth is my baby fever is only getting stronger.

As is my love for the baby I carry now, who hopefully will be my cure.

................................................................................................

May 23rd

Today was my due date for my last pregnancy.

A pregnancy that never got to be anything more than 10 weeks.

After awhile I stopped thinking about how far along I should have been. I stopped comparing myself to others who were due, and have gone on to have babies, around the time I was due. At some point it stopped being my reality, as much as I had hoped it would have been.

It makes me a little sad. To think of the could-have-been. But, well, what are you going to do?

In four days I'll participate in my first triathlon. So I guess that's what I'll do. A newborn would have been amazing, but there are lots of things in life that would have been amazing, and fortunately, lots that still are.

And honestly today has just been another day. A good day even. I ate grocery store sushi that was delicious yet I know that just sounds so incredibly gross. We went to a BBQ at a nearby lake and watched Finn throw rocks in the "baba" over and over and over. And I got to attend another Favorite Things Party (score!) and walk away with new treats.

Life doesn't go according to plan. But it seems to still go in a good direction most days. So that's something.

................................................................................................

How Quickly Things Change

I debated whether or not I would share anymore posts relating to my miscarriage, but I recently heard of a someone else's loss and decided that this would be worth sharing. Because people have told me that by opening up about baby loss, and all the experiences and complexities of it, it helps others understand, show compassion, give support, etc. And if just one person can benefit from this and help just one other person - then it's worth it for me to continue to share these personal reflections. The first is just a short entry I wrote one night when I had only known I was pregnant for a couple weeks. The second, written one month later, is a recap of the day I got the D&E.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Originally written September 23, 2012:

Dear #3,

My friend Brooke had a clever nickname for her second baby while she was pregnant. . .the Deuce. Her first baby Eliza passed away too soon, like your brother Cale. I kinda wonder if we should have a nickname for you before we know a little more about who you are (ie –if you are a lad or a lassie).

I just felt compelled to write you tonight. At this moment, at only six weeks pregnant, and totally unsure what the future holds, I am incredibly excited about you – about the idea of you, about the life that we could maybe have with you. And I’m really happy to be this excited. Here I am, pregnant for the third time, with a history that could rightfully so make me want to crawl into a hole and wait for nine months to hopefully pass uneventfully, but instead, right now, I am just happy. So thank you baby – thank you for exciting us with possibility.

I love you already.

-Mom

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Originally written October 25, 2012:

The D&E was today. We woke up early to be at the hospital by 6:30, and to drop Finn off at a friend’s house. Sadly, this meant Miles actually got to sleep in a little bit. But it was a very early morning for Finn and me – we sure do love our sleep.

I looked for something to wear that I could maybe throw out later. Because whatever shirt I put on I would always associate it with the shirt I wore to the hospital the day I had a D&E. I remember doing the same thing with a bra I wore during Cale’s delivery. I had to throw it out. It was forever ruined.

I looked in the mirror and told Miles that my successful pregnancy outcome was one in three. He gave me a kiss and said if I was a baseball player that would be a good thing. I smiled briefly, then continued to get ready.

We got to the hospital and checked in with no problems except that we were already running late and didn't know it. Apparently we should have been there at 5:30 but were told the wrong time. They took care of all the pre-op stuff pretty fast though and all the nurses were wonderfully kind. I had blood drawn, an EKG (should something have gone wrong during the procedure they would have had this baseline), they put funny boot/socks things on to prevent blood clots in my legs, started an IV in my hand, took my blood pressure and all the other stand questions and pre-op procedures.

Eventually Miles was let back and sat with me as they started some of the meds. I remember talking to him and getting heavy eyes. And then I remember being in the surgery room and talking to my doctor. Don’t remember getting there though or saying goodbye to Miles. I remember asking if this is where they did C-Sections because it looked like it from pictures of C-Sections I've seen. I vaguely remember having to move to a different bed (gurney?) and I don’t remember much else – I remember a slight burning and tingling sensation as they administer the anesthesia and I’m not sure, but I think I said “my son who passed away was named Cale” – I think I wanted to tell my doctor that for some reason. She is kind and sweet, but his name had never come up in any of my previous appointments. I guess when I was woozy on meds and on my way out, it was important to tell her. After the surgery was complete she went to give Miles an update and had told him that I had gotten a little emotional. Maybe that’s what she was referring to. Before the surgery they said they’d need to put a tube in my throat to help me breathe. They didn't need to put one all the way in, but the air that was going in really dried out my throat and mouth and even as I type this at 9pm at night, my throat is probably the main physical discomfort I have.

When I “woke up” I was in another room. I said my throat hurt and they brought me some ice chips. The nurses were just as kind as they had been before everything. I smiled and asked my doctor if I still had my uterus. She said I sure did. Yesterday I had to sign some paperwork stating that in the event of an emergency or severe hemorrhaging  that a hysterectomy would be performed. Obviously a very, very rare and minor risk. But seeing as though statistics don’t really encourage me much anymore, it was nice to hear that everything was still intact when I woke up.

Then I was wheeled back to a room similar to the post-op room and Miles was let back to see me. He said my Doctor had come out to let him know that everything went fine and she thinks she got most of the tissue so I shouldn't bleed as much. I had to take some meds, go to the bathroom, and sign some papers and then was discharged only a few hours after arriving. I wasn't in much pain and haven’t really been throughout the day. Just tired and a little crampy. And my damn throat is annoying me more than anything. But overall, not a very physically demanding day. The emotional aspects are obviously different than the physical ones. I’ll work through those later though because they will be there for a while. For now, I’m headed back to bed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

My miscarriage was not quite six weeks ago. I'm at a much better place of acceptance with it all than I was five weeks ago and I think the same will be true six weeks from now. I think a lot of that has to do with our experience with Cale - with losing a child that we saw, held, and felt like we knew. But a loss is still a loss and it's hard.

My friend Brooke (same one mentioned above) wrote a beautiful piece today about how far you can come from such horrible tragedy, and how much you can gain from it - but at the end of the day, how painfully sad and unfair it all still is. Please read her post as she writes it much better than I ever could.

To Addison and Andrew and Eliza . . .Happy Birthday precious ones. Wish you were here. 

................................................................................................

One Month Ago

Originally written October 24, 2012

................................................................................................

Well it’s over as soon as it seemed to begin. Last night I couldn't sleep. I was nervous and anxious and excited for my appointment. For our first ultrasound, or a chance to hear the baby via the doppler. But “unfortunately,” she said. . . “there is no heartbeat is there?” I finished for her. I could see for myself. See the little baby. See the lack of a flicker.

I was nine weeks six days. Would have been ten weeks that night. The baby measured nine weeks three days. So it happened recently. My appointment was on a Wednesday. I had commented to Miles that starting Monday I was feeling “normal” and not really pregnant anymore. Maybe that’s when it happened. Maybe that’s when it ended.

I cried because it sucks. I cried because for the third time I’m pregnant, yet I only have one living child at home. I cried because as much as I knew this could happen, maybe as much as I subconsciously even expected it to happen, it still sucks. Because his or her heart did beat at some point. Because a baby grew and started to develop. But then it all stopped. And I had to look at another ultrasound of a baby without a heartbeat.

In a whirlwind of a day, a confirmation ultrasound later and a few follow up appointments, we have elected to get a D&E tomorrow morning. Less than 24 hours after learning that pregnancy #3 would not come to fruition. I guess a D&E involves suction where a D&C involves scraping of the uterine lining. How miserably awful they both sound. Given the other options – wait it out naturally (not an option for us as Miles leaves next week and not to mention how unlikely that would be to happen anytime soon given the point at which the baby had developed to and the fact that my body is showing no signs of miscarrying on its own), or take some meds to make it happen at home (which may not work as my Dr. said they usually are better for very early on (the 6-8 week range) and if they don’t work I have to try again or go with the surgical option anyway and oh by the way, the meds make you miserably sick). Or option three – undergo a D&E. She had a cancellation for the very next day. We decided that was best. Best of the worst options available.

It’s hard. I feel set back. I feel upset and angry and just in shock by how horrible our luck seems to be, yet I know we’ll be ok. I know this is a set back and we’ll get through it. We've been through worse.

As tears rolled down my eyes looking at yet another still baby on the ultrasound machine, I said “I’d rather know now than 39 weeks.” And I would. I’d rather go through a rough few days or weeks, but know that this is “common” and that I’m now just able to check the block where a lot of other women have had to check before. Really, I know very, very few people who haven’t had a miscarriage.

But . . .  it still just sucks. And I’m still just so sad.

................................................................................................

Pregnancy #3

I had a miscarriage last week.

I didn't really know how to start this post, but I guess that's as good of way as any - just cut to the chase.

From the day I found out I was pregnant (September 12th) until now I have been keeping a word document with just some ramblings that I planned to share one day. I had hoped I'd be sharing them in several more weeks after announcing our third pregnancy. After announcing that while nervous, we were also incredibly excited that Finn would maybe have a sibling come next May.

But unfortunately that won't be the case.

I think I'll go backwards in those entries and maybe share some of what I had written about pregnancy #3. I'm not really sure how much I will share (there isn't very much anyway), but this blog has always been pretty therapeutic for me when I share things of a personal nature. Give a little get a little I guess.

The below portion was written early in the morning on October 26th - one week ago. I couldn't sleep. I had just had a D&E the day prior.

---------------------------------------------------

Miles said it best. “This is heartache, not heartbreak.”

I agree.

Because our hearts have been broken before.

But what that means now is that my broken heart is all achy. And I don’t like that. But I know it will pass. I can genuinely know that in time, I will feel better.

I didn't know that with Cale. All I knew was that each day I had to survive. I didn't know life would get easier and I would move forward and function again. Because my life had stopped cold in its tracks. I didn't want to go forward. I didnt want to function. I just wanted my baby back.

That’s not so much the case this time. Cale was a perfect baby. Seven pounds of beauty. Fully developed and fully formed and within days of coming home with us. There was nothing wrong with him. He was a baby that should have been in our lives. This was a baby that could have been, but wasn't. So much that still needed to happen. So much that could have changed things. I will always struggle to not have my should-have-been life. I don’t think I will struggle as much with what could have been. It doesn't hurt as bad. It hurts. But not nearly as bad.

Part of me can logically work through all this. I was just about 10 weeks. First trimester miscarriages are common and sadly, they do happen for a reason - be it a chromosome abnormality or whatever the case, something wasn't developing right for that baby so things ended. I can look through my family and those around me and know that lots of people have been through this before me.

But the whole strength in numbers thing isn't giving me much comfort right now. Certainly not much strength. Because lots of people can’t say “Three pregnancies. One Stillbirth. One Miscarriage. Just one healthy baby.” But I can. And I hate that. (and then on the flip side far too many people can say that. Or add to it.) I just don't like checking the box of yet another type of loss. I hate how it makes me bitter and jealous. More bitter and jealous I should say. One of my friends said “it makes me all ragey angry for you.” I get that. And I hate knowing that trying again doesn't mean I’m immune to any of it. And that scares me.

It does make my heart especially heavy for those who struggle to get pregnant and then experience loss – in any shape. Those poor, poor souls who take years and treatments and pay fortunes . . . only to lose it all. Either in a “common” fashion or in a horribly rare and unexpected way. How sad. I’m so sad for them.

But who knows. Maybe that’s us next. Maybe our luck in the getting pregnant department will dry up too.

(That’s the woe-is-me talk taking over)

I just wish I was normal. 

I just wish it didn't have to be so hard to create a family. Or hurt so much in the process.

---------------------------------------------------

A little time, and a lot of perspective (mostly due to Cale), has already made this experience easier. Easier to accept. Easier to move on from. Easier to live with.

I'm sad and I feel set back. But I don't feel broken and defeated. We'll take some time and see what is best for us in terms of what's next.

Please don't ask when we will try again. Or ask if I'm pregnant yet. Please don't ask anyone those questions. It's all incredibly personal. And there's so much more to it than a simple answer.

One day we hope to share happy news again. But it's our news to share when the time is right. And if we are even lucky enough to be able to share it. For now, we will see. We have a fun and beautiful almost 17 month old boy. That's already a lot to be thankful for.

................................................................................................

Two Years Ago {Yesterday}

On October 27, 2009 I found out I was pregnant with our first baby. I started to write this blog yesterday (while at work like any good government employee) but I wanted to include a picture. Well after I got home, we had the normal end of the day routine (change, clean up, wash bottles, ready bottles for the next day, nurse Finn, etc) and then we got ready to have some friends over for dinner and after they left I was so exhausted I never got around to finishing this post.

 I've recently started a new prescription, but one of the side effects is drowsiness. And boy was I feeling it yesterday. I slugged my way through work and after our dinner date, I was asleep within 20 minutes of our guests leaving. And not the ready-for-bed kind of sleep, but the I fell asleep on the couch in my jeans with my make up on, while Miles put the baby to bed kind. I didn't wake up until after midnight to actually get up and go to bed. Pathetic. And when I woke up I was mad that I didn't get this blog posted on the 27th. I felt guilty because I wrote about the year mark of finding out I was pregnant with Finn - I should have done the same for Cale. Silly maybe, but it's how my brain works.

But anyway, back to the point of this particular post . . .so yeah, two years ago yesterday, I took a pregnancy test not actually thinking I would be pregnant. But I was. And I was shocked. Excited, but shocked. I took the test after Miles had already left for work. Not totally convinced it was true, I decided that I'd take another when I returned and if that was positive, I would tell Miles. Well, wouldn't ya know it, that test was positive as well.

I allowed Roscoe to break the news to Miles when he got home.

While the end of the pregnancy was horribly tragic, I loved my time with Cale, right from the very start with that happy memory that I hope to replay and enjoy every October 27th (give or take a day).

Also, I really appreciate all the kind comments on my last blog. My dad had his surgery yesterday and it went well. He's still in the hospital until tomorrow at least, but my mom said the Doctor told her that everything went just fine and that there were no surprises. Thanks for the support and prayers. Please keep them coming while he faces a pretty rough next few weeks.

One Year Ago Today. . .

  . . .I quietly woke up and let Miles sleep in as he usually has to be up so early and for some reason didn't have to be that day. I crept into the bathroom, took a pregnancy test and before even looking at it, I placed it on the edge of the bathtub and got in the shower. While showering I just knew that I would get out and find a positive pregnancy test waiting for me.

I was right. And so, so happy.

I quietly got dressed and went downstairs. I made a silly little breakfast of eggo waffles (don't judge me, they're delicious) and orange juice and brought it upstairs to Miles. Only I put "I'm Pr " on the plate next to the eggo . . . I'm preEGGO.

Miles looked down at the plate, up at me, and was genuinely happy. We sat on the bed, shared our eggo's with Roscoe, and just talked about how happy we were to be pregnant again but the complex emotions that came with it and the fact that it was a bittersweet moment of missing Cale, wishing he were with us, but thankful for the new life within.

It's hard to believe that one year ago today I learned I was carrying our sweet little Finn who became such a source of hope for us.  I often ask Finn if he knows how much I love him and tell him over and over that we love him so very much because we loved him even before he was conceived. Just like Cale, we loved the idea of him and the idea of our lives with him. I was thinking the other day how babies after loss are sometimes viewed as the light at the end of a dark tunnel. But I think that instead he's just my light along the way. Giving birth to him didn't change how much I still miss and grieve for Cale. But he adds a light to our lives that I can't imagine not having. And I don't ever want him to feel that he was a replacement. I want him to always know how much he's loved for being who he is and try to thank him often for just being him. Just uniquely, wonderfully, perfectly him.

So in celebration of our awesome little guy and the happy news he brought us a year ago today, here are a few cute videos. . . .enjoy!

And just for good measure I'll include this ridiculous picture. Don't worry, this was only done to satisfy the curiosity of my retard husband. As soon as the picture was taken, the bjorn came off the dog.

One Week Left. . . Hard to Believe

One week from today is my induction. It's very surreal and as the title states, just hard to believe. But I mean that in the most literal sense possible. We have been waiting to bring a baby home and to be a family of three for a long time now. We want nothing more than for Finley to arrive healthy, living, screaming! But it's almost hard to actually envision it. We've been through a full pregnancy and a delivery before. Just didn't get to bring the baby home. So even though the house, the nursery, and our hearts are VERY ready to welcome this little guy, it's just hard to believe that the possibility of that outcome exists in such a short period of time.

A lot of people have been checking in on me and asking me how I'm doing. I'm actually doing better than I thought I would be at this point. I contribute most of that to having Miles home. Having him back has been so wonderful - it has helped pass the time and has been enjoyable to be back together. I think maybe it just still feels surreal and that's why the full wave of emotions haven't smacked me in the face. It's almost like I'm just waiting for the time to pass, enjoying the movements this sweet baby makes, and enjoying being with Miles and eventually the clock will keep ticking and the time will pass.

Some comments that are getting a little annoying are the following:

* Are you Excited?

Really? Does this even need to be asked? I almost think this is a stupid question to ask any expectant mom, regardless of if they've lost a baby or not. I know there is no harm meant by asking, it just gets old (Or I am just getting crabby. Probably both)

* I bet you are ready to not be pregnant anymore! or Are you tired of being pregnant?

Part of me wants to scream "You have NO idea!" - that's the part of me that is incredibly tired of being pregnant. I've been pregnant for 18 of the last 21 months (since October 2009, I've been pregnant all but three months). Both pregnancies culminating at the onset of the Georgia Summer. It was over 100 degrees for the majority of the last week and this week isn't looking much better. It's humid, I can't sleep, I can't get comfortable, and I feel like an elephant. Ironically, the gestational period of an elephant is 22 months. So yes, yes I am ready to not be pregnant.
But there's a flip-side to that. And that's the fact that I AM pregnant in the first place, something that every day I am thankful for. I'm getting to experience a part of life, that while scary and complicated, is incredibly beautiful and special. And I want to enjoy every minute of this time with my baby because you never know when that time will be taken away from you. And even with a happy ending, it's still such a special time to bond and share with your child and I love that. I love the movements, even the painful ones, I love the hiccups, the ultrasounds, the miracle that is pregnancy.

* I just know everything will be ok this time

We hope so. But we don't know that it will be. And people who say this don't know it either. And this comment is particularly annoying as I want to ask "so, did you know that Cale wouldn't make it then?" I get it - people have a good feeling about things and certainly think that we can't have such a terrible thing happen twice, but the sad reality is that we don't know how it will turn out. We hope for the best and we think things will go well - we never would have tried for another baby if we didn't feel optimistic that we could have a happy ending, but please don't be so ignorant to as claim it as a fact that everything will be just fine. On that same token, it'll probably irk me to no end to hear "see, I told you everything would be fine" if everything does turn out fine.

Despite my little tirade above, I do appreciate all the comments and people checking in. I am always so thankful that Cale was (and still is) so loved, and am so grateful little Finn is no different and that there are so many kind people eagerly anticipating his arrival . . none more than his mommy and daddy though :)

Emotions

There are about two and a half weeks until my induction. It's close. It still feels very far away, but it's not. But as the anticipation and excitement mount, so too do a lot of other emotions. And it's made these last few weeks interesting to say the least.

In no particular order, these are some of the emotions I've been feeling:

Excitement: In a short time we will meet our son. Our second son. I can't wait to meet and hold him. At my last appointment, the doctor kept commenting that he thinks Finley has a lot of hair. It amazes me that they can see these things on ultrasounds (they can see a "fuzziness" and blur around the head). But more than once he said "gosh, he's just got a lot of hair." So I'm excited to see for myself and see what he looks like. I wonder if he looks like his brother, his dad, or maybe like me. And I get to find out soon. It may not feel like it all the time, but it's soon, and I can't wait.

Fear: I fear losing him. I fear all the terrible things that can happen. I fear going through everything we did with Cale all over again. One doctor I saw, who is really kind, tried to reassure me that the chance of it happening again were incredibly slim. That's true. But the chance of having it happen the first time were incredibly slim. My chances of having a stillborn are no greater and no less because it's already happened. Unfortunately there is no statute of limitations on tragedy.

Sadness: I miss Cale. The closer we get to meeting Finley, the closer we get to Cale's birthday. It brings back a lot of emotions. I think about his birth a lot and it makes me sad. It makes me sad to re-live those moments, yet I never want to stop re-living them and remembering everything about them. I just miss my baby. I just want him back.

Bitterness/Jealousy: Why did my baby have to die? Why did I go through a full healthy and normal pregnancy, only to have to say goodbye before we got to say hello? Why Cale? I see so many other pregnant women around me and while it's wonderful that most of them, if not all of them, will not experience this pain, it makes me a little jealous. It makes me bitter of the blissfulness they have. It makes me jealous of the me from a year ago. No, I don't know everyones story and yes, there are lots of other people who have been where I've been and lots of people who have experienced stories sadder than my own, but I'm still in this very, very small percentage of people who experienced a part of life that no one should have to endure. And not just me, but Miles too. We see people who don't deserve to be parents go on to have perfectly healthy children or parents who have children, but don't really understand how lucky they are. Why us? We can never answer the "why" questions, but it doesn't make them less painful. It doesn't make it any less unfair.

Happiness: I have a healthy baby growing inside right now. I love him and I got to (and always will) love Cale. I'm so lucky. (see, I told you these emotions were complicated - on one hand I feel incredibly unlucky, but on the other hand I know just how lucky I am). I'm happy because I am a mother to a baby who changed my life. I'm happy because I got to experience not one, but two beautiful and full pregnancies. I'm happy because my love for these babies and for Miles is continually strengthened because of all three of them (the more I love one, the more I love the others). I'm happy because I know first hand how incredible it is to hold your child, and have your heart, even when broken, be so full of love. I'm happy I'll get to do that again (hopefully sans broken heart).

Anger: I do get angry about what happened to Cale, but not often. It goes back to the unfairness of it all and naturally that stems a little anger. What angers me is the reaction, or lack there of, of others. And not just about losing our son, but about this pregnancy. This isn't my first pregnancy. And I hate it when it's treated that way. This really doesn't happen too often. And honestly, most people, my friends and family especially, are amazing. But sometimes people say things that really just piss me off. I don't like hearing advice about labor as if I've never been through it. I don't like hearing about how great it will be to be a mother. I am a mother. I just don't like it when Cale's life is discredited because it ended early. That's how it feels when people pretend like I've never been pregnant or delivered a baby. It's discrediting Cale and nothing angers me more.

Hope: It may not seem like it at times, especially with some of those other emotions, but I am very hopeful for our future. In my heart I think that everything will be ok this time, but I think that because I hope it to be true. Not because I know it will be true. Sometimes all you can do is rely on hope to get you through the tough times. Hope has carried me a long way since last June.

All these crazy emotions battle it out pretty frequently and are pretty intertwined. But as I write this we are closing in on another day. Another day closer to meeting our boy and seeing how this crazy life unfolds. . .

Our Registry

I've recently been asked by several people if we are registered anywhere for our baby. And since we are slowly, but surely nearing the end of this pregnancy (hard to believe), that question may come up a few more times. So I want to explain to people (or at least those who read this little blog) why we are not registering anywhere this time around.

When I was pregnant with Cale we had created a registry through Babies R Us. In fact, the day we learned the gender, we went straight to Babies R Us to register. It was our way of enjoying and celebrating the fact that we just learned we'd be having a boy! And over the course of the pregnancy I was thrown a wonderful Baby Shower where we received lots and lots of great baby gifts. I even got a surprise shower at work a few weeks before giving birth. The out-pouring of gifts, and love, was just amazing. But the best part was just knowing how loved Cale was as we awaited his arrival. It helped (and still does) ease the pain of losing him, because at least we can look back on our time with him and know he was showered with so much love. (And SO many clothes!)

And now, with our nursery still full of those wonderful gifts, we don't feel right asking for more. We have almost everything we'd need, especially what we'll need early on. We just need the baby. So our "registry" isn't one for gifts, but rather continual love & support, prayers, well-wishes, and lots of positive thoughts! And if people really feel inclined to do something else, we ask that you do not send us a gift, but consider making a donation to Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep. This incredible organization is one in which professional photographers donate their time and talent to take photos of a baby who has recently passed away or will in the near future and create beautiful remembrance pictures that will help bring comfort to a grieving family, all at no cost to the family. Unfortunately we didn't know about this organization until a few weeks after Cale was born, but we know now and can try our best to get word out. Because the sad reality is that people will still lose children and tragedy will still strike. But having pictures of a baby before, or soon after, their passing will help so much in the healing process. We are fortunate in that we do have a couple pictures of Cale taken by one of our nurses. And while nothing will be as special as our memory of him or holding him, those pictures have brought us so much comfort and will do so the rest of our lives. The are part of our most cherished possessions and organizations like Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep are the reason so many other families have that same comfort.

But just because we aren't registering or having a "typical" baby shower, certainly does not mean that our baby is not already being showered with lots of love. In fact, this past weekend my friend Heidi put together a very sweet dinner in which we celebrated the joys and hopes of this pregnancy and this baby.

In the pictures you may notice the amazingly cute (and amazingly delicious) cake with "Baby Finn" written on it. We never really announced his name, but I think most people already know it anyway and I figured it wasn't worth cropping the pictures or trying to hide. So there you have it . . . . .

Thank you all for the continued love you have given us, our son Cale, and his little brother Finley. It means so much - please keep it coming! Especially during these last 4-ish weeks!

A {little} Rant

Yesterday I ran into someone I know (not very well) who was with a friend (who I did not know). The person I know (and don't care for too much) is aware that we had lost a child, but not of much else in our current lives. This how the conversation went (Person A is the person I know, Person B is his friend):

Person A: Well congrats on your bundle of joy (pointing at belly)
Me: Thanks.
Person B: Do you have any kids?
Me: (deep breath) No. (realize then he'll think this is my first), Well, our first passed away.
Person B: Oh, I'm really sorry to hear that.
Me: Thank you
Person A: Yeah how is everything. . . .well, are you passed the. . . well are you at the "safe point?"
Me: (oh you idiot) Well, it's pretty scary since our last died nine days before his due date, so the "safe point" for me isn't really until I'm holding him and know he's OK, but so far everything is going well.
Person A: Yeah that makes sense
Person B: Well if it helps, my sister had three miscarriages before having her three kids, so there is hope.
Me: Yeah, that's good. (I didn't have a miscarriage . . .apples and oranges buddy )

And I went to the dentist not long ago and had this conversation (for a second time):

Dentist: So is this your first?
Me: No (I told you this last time, but I get it, you see a lot of patients)
Dentist: Oh so is there a big brother or sister at home?
Me: (here we go again) Umm, well no, my first passed away.
Dentist: Oh that's right, you told me that.
Me: (yes, yes I did.)

Conversations like these are hard. They are hard because I don't always say what I am thinking and sometimes wish I would. But at the same time I understand that people don't understand and so they are bound to say things that are unintentionally hurtful. Other comments that are hurtful include "when you are a mom." I am a mom. I may not be a parent. I may not have a child that I am raising and parenting right now, but I am a mom. I carried a child for nine months and gave birth to him, held him, kissed him and above all else still love him.

My friend Erica is expecting her first baby and is so sweet and makes me feel like my opinion matters - as a mom and as a woman who has already been through pregnancy. She continually asks for my opinion on things from what lotion to use to what kinds of things I registered for. And it means so much to feel like it's OK to have an opinion and one that she genuinely wants to hear. I was telling her that sometimes I feel like such an outsider in the Mommy world. Because I am. I understand that, but it doesn't mean it isn't hard. I hear people talk about things like what kind of stroller they own and part of me wants to say "yeah I have that too" but I can't offer insight as to how it works or how my baby likes it. I can only say I'm pleased with the color or it is easy to assemble.

I feel like sometimes our experiences are devalued or minimized because of the way it turned out. People tell Miles about labor and delivery as if he's never experienced it. One of the most poignant comments Miles made to me after Cale was born was "despite how sad it was knowing how it would turn out, watching you give birth to our son was still such a beautiful thing." That meant SO much to me. And it reminds me that it still was an incredible experience. We experienced the birth of our first child. And while we may not have had the euphoric happiness that should be associated with the birth of a child, it doesn't mean we are new to all of this either.

OK, rant complete. . . . for now :)

Baby Shower

A year ago today my friend Jodi threw me a baby shower. I didn't even remember the date, but was looking through pictures of my time with Cale as I often do when I'm missing him and I noticed that the baby shower fell on 3/27. It made me a little sad, but mostly just got me thinking. Thinking of how much has changed in a year when our lives are same from the outside looking in. From the outside we are still a family of two, waiting for a little boy to join us in a couple months. But from the inside we are so very changed, never to be the same again. I'll never be grateful for what happened to Cale, but rather grateful for what happened as a result of him, of the good that will (and already has) come from his time with us.

 

As I looked through these pictures I was reminded that Cale was loved, even before he was here. And that brings me a little comfort, especially as we draw closer to another milestone - 3/28, nine months from when Cale was born. It comforts me because I know Cale was loved every day of his life. And I know he's loved now and always will be.

Cale's brother is loved too. And it amazes me how my love for both of them is stronger because of each of them individually. If it weren't for Cale, I wouldn't have a baby kicking me as I type this. And I hope one day soon I can dress that baby in those cute clothes from my shower, or that sweet monkey towel in the picture. For now I'm grateful for the kicks I'm feeling, for the love people had for Cale, and the love that he continues to bring to his family.

Our Little Guy

Yesterday I had a very good Doctor's appointment. I'm just around 19 weeks, but the baby is still measuring closer to 20. Each ultrasound we've had, he has been measuring a little bigger which is great. I'm sure once he's more developed he might start to even out with his gestational age, but he can be an eager beaver as long as he wants and I won't complain!

The overwhelming feelings before and after the appointment were of hope and excitement. But going into each appointment, I do get scared. I fear hearing bad news and I know that I'll be a little nervous each time. But it doesn't change how excited I am either. And after the appointment, it makes me even more excited and hopeful because I was just reassured of how he's doing and I just got to see him. But it's hard to not still think of things in terms of if's and not when's. To counteract that, Miles and I will force ourselves to talk about the future and things we want to do with this baby. We'll ask each other things like "what is the first trip you want to take with him?" or "Where do we want to spend the holidays?" Doing so, helps us envision the future we are hoping for, even if we are scared about getting there.

I guess I wanted to say all that before sharing the pictures as it's important for me to relay to people that yes, this is wonderful, and yes, there is lots to be excited about, but we need you to know that it's not easy either. But I fully believe that this baby, and any baby I am fortunate enough to be carrying deserves to be as loved as possible and in doing so that means looking forward to his arrival and celebrating everything about him - such as his totally awesome ultrasound pictures below!

I thought it looked like his hand was saying "word" . . . or maybe "wud up"

Here's our little guy.  Just hanging out - especially in the last one with his little legs crossed.

I think this is my favorite one. He's deep in thought. Very pensive, just like his daddy.

(In case you are having a hard time seeing it - his little hand looks as if it's resting under his chin)

Pretty neat, isn't it? :)