Mother's Day Ups and Downs

I feel so incredibly blessed to be celebrating Mother's Day this weekend that I can hardly stand it! I have Brian and Andrew, and my mom, too. We are all healthy and happy, the weather is gorgeous and none of us have work to do this weekend.

But, it's complicated. I feel so many other things as well, and it makes my brain a very busy place trying to figure it all out.

5 years ago I didn't really give much thought to Mother's Day, other than to celebrate with my mom. I figured that one day I would also get to celebrate it, but it really didn't give me much pause for thought.

4 years ago I started to get impatient and anxious, and began to worry it would never happen.

3 years ago I was excited for Mother's Day as it approached because I was finally pregnant. However, 3 years ago, on May 9th, I had my surgery because of my miscarriage #1.

2 years ago I was waiting, and trying to be patient.

1 year ago I was blissfully happy with my 10 month old beautiful baby boy! But the joy was tempered just a bit (OK, maybe a lot) by guilt. I thought it would go away.

It hasn't. It's still here.

I still feel so badly for those who are still longing to be a mom, and for those who have their babies in heaven instead of here on Earth. I know this pain and wish that nobody would ever have to know it.

And now this year my joy still continues, but I also remember my losses, and those of my friends.

So, if you are still waiting, my prayers are with you. And if you are celebrating, please remember your friends and family who may be still longing for motherhood or missing their babies. I know I am.

Beware the Ides of March

I really should beware, because this time the date jumped up on me in a most unwelcome way. I mean, I knew it was getting close. I just didn't realize it was today. Another unfulfilled due date. The one that was a complete surprise. The one that at first seemed like it would be inconvenient because Andy would have been just 8 months old. The one that later seemed like my fault.

And on the heels of a good friend's pregnancy announcement, and the fact that I really do want another baby, cuz I've already got the most perfect baby in the whole wide world so I simply must have another because I'm just a greedy bitch, it just sucks.

Last year's feelings were pretty much expected, since it was the first year. But this year, I thought, I hoped, I was over it. But I'm not. So there.

And while a traitor didn't actually kill me (duh, since I'm still here and typing this), the traitor is my body. My body that just won't sustain a pregnancy nearly long enough.

WHOOSH

Did you hear that? It's the sound in my head, and it keeps repeating itself. Why? Well, I think I may have just figured out what's been eating at me when I didn't even fully realize I was being nibbled on.

Confused? Well, bear with me 'cuz I think I am too.

For weeks B has been asking me what I want to do for Mother's Day. Weird, huh? Well, maybe not for you, but for me it is because he's never asked me that before. And for weeks I never gave an answer. Not that I couldn't think of one, but rather, that I wouldn't think of one. Each time B would bring it up I would brush it off and move along to something else.

A few days ago I started to wonder why I was behaving in such an illogical manner, and I couldn't come up with anything.

But today? Well, "WHOOSH" is really the only way to describe it. Mother's Day two years ago was all set to be a big celebration. Our entire family was thrilled that I was pregnant. It was the first really good thing to happen since my dad's accident. My grandma was visiting. My brother and niece were visiting too. My parents, cousins, everyone was coming to our house for a big get together. I should have been in my element, because this is what I live for. Instead, I was the most miserable I have ever been. I was just two days past my surgery for my miscarriage. The miscarriage that was two years ago today. See? WHOOSH

And while I'm still sad about that miscarriage (and the other, as well), and I still miss what could have been, I know that if it had been, then my here and now wouldn't be. My here and now is exactly where I want to be and I simply can't imagine it any other way. Nevertheless, the could have beens have left behind marks on my heart that will always be there and will always remember in some little way. WHOOSH

That isn't all though. The WHOOSHing continues. I have been thinking of Andrew's birth mom like crazy lately. What is she feeling about the approach of Mother's Day? I hate the thought that my greatest joy may be her greatest sadness. I went to great lengths to find the perfect card for her, yet nothing was quite right. I finally settled upon one, and then was nervous to send it, but I did. WHOOSH

Finally, I think that for those who struggle to become moms it seems like Mother's Day is the holy grail of all that it means to have children. It just gets so built up in our hearts and minds. And now that I'm here I realize that I discover the holy grail of motherhood each time I am peed on, pooped on, slobbed on, cried on, chewed on, bounced on, slept on and smiled on. WHOOSH

So what do I want to do for Mother's Day? I simply want to be with B and Andrew. And my mom too.

Moving On

About a year and a half ago I attended my first Resolve infertility support group. I had finally gotten to the point where I realized that I seriously needed some real life support for this burden of infertility. There were groups that met downtown, or on the east side of the Valley, but nothing here in the west. I emailed the coordinator for the Phoenix area and asked if a west side group may be starting up soon. Seriously, less than 2 minutes later I had an email from her all about a new west side group that was starting up in just a couple of days. As it turns out it wasn't even a response to my email, but rather she was sending out a note to all members. Attending that first meeting, while very difficult to step out and do, has been an incredible blessing.

I found a leader who truly knew where I was and where I wanted to go. The monthly meetings took me through dealing with my miscarriage, through my IVF (the good, the bad, and the ugly), through our decision to pursue adoption, through completing the homestudy and profile book, through our match with Andrew's birth family, through his arrival, through my second pregnancy and miscarriage, and through Andrew's adoption finalization. I've met some wonderful people there, girls who I'm happy to call my friends. A friend who is just a friend now, and not just a fellow infertile.

The past couple of months have been weird, and my attendance has been sporadic. Though still quite infertile (or maybe sub fertile, since I've been pregnant a couple of times), I don't belong anymore. While I love being supportive of those still going through treatment, that support comes with a high price for me. It takes me back with a great big breath-sucking whoosh to a truly horrible and dark time. A time when I knew nothing but fear and failure. While I realize that this should be about supporting others, it just brings back so much pain that I can't offer the support I'd like to. Soooo, after the meeting tonight I told our leader that tonight was my last hurrah . . . . that I'm done. It's time for me to move on and let go.

A real life support group is very different from the support I've given and received from my bloggy buddies (which I also wouldn't trade for anything!). I'm touched deeply by what I read and respond with genuine emotion to my bloggy pals. However, I'm able to keep my feelings in check, and far from the surface. It's the live and in-person tears in the eyes and cracking voices that cut deep to my soul and get that whole whoosh thing going.

She asked me about becoming a leader. I was instantly flooded with fear. Well, maybe a smattering of flattery too, but mainly it was fear. Again, as much as I want to be supportive, and give back to a community that was really there for me in a very real way, I'm just not strong enough to do it now. Maybe later, after the wounds heal some more, but certainly not now.

For now it's just time to move on.

More Reflections

As you can tell from several previous posts I do find myself reflecting upon comparisons between this year and last year. Overwhelmingly and without a doubt, this year, particularly the past few months, have been far superior not only to last year, but to the year before as well. And that is still the case. I've also mentioned how having Andrew has taken away so much of the pain from our infertility battle and struggle to begin our family. And this I know is true.

However . . .

Some hurt remains.

Last weekend we (well, B, if truth be told) dragged all of our Christmas stuff in from the garage so that the decorating can begin. I'm so excited to get it all done so that Andrew can enjoy all of the lights on the tree. Oh my, how he loves lights! I swear, he is part moth. This excitement is so different from last year. Last year everything was hauled into the house and I let the living room sit in major disarray for weeks. I just couldn't bring myself to get it done because it was just too upsetting. Upsetting because months earlier I realized that I wouldn't be in any condition to decorate the house . . . I would either be extremely pregnant or already caring for a newborn. Alas, that was not meant to be. Instead, last year when it was time to decorate I found myself mourning our unfulfilled due date. It was hard for me to even look at our living room, let alone step into it.

So now I'm remembering that miscarriage as the one year anniversary of our unfulfilled due date creeps closer. December 6th would have been the due date. And it still makes me a little sad. And very reflective.

And lest you think I spend lots of time thinking about this, I really don't. I'm just sharing where I am and how some hurts just never completely go away. While it has diminished, it's still there. But I think that it might be OK to still be there. After all, once you know loss it makes the joys all the more sweet. And that is a gift. Not one that I ever would have asked for, but a gift nonetheless I am thankful for.

Oldish News and Next Steps

I guess I'll start with the oldish news. First of all, it's "oldish" because for the past week lots of thoughts have been tumbling around in my noggin and I just haven't taken much time for bloggin'. Anywho, last week, at a mere 28 days past my miscarriage/D&C, my good buddy Aunt Flo returned. With a vengeance. We'll leave it at that. The take home fact here is that my body isn't acting old at all with how quickly it's gotten back in the groove. My old buddy also brought back the frustration of the diagnosis of "unexplained" infertility. It just stinks to not know why we aren't getting results when everything appears to be in properly working order.

At my follow up appointment with my OB we talked about what next. I really don't have a clear vision. I mean, I know I'm not seeking any more treatment, my RE is out of the picture. However, I don't really know if I want to try to get pregnant or not. I really don't want to go through another miscarriage again, not that anybody does, but I guess I really don't want to risk it. My doctor sees no reason for me to be on birth control and he still sees no reason why I couldn't get pregnant again and actually have it work out.

And how can I even be thinking about this when we have Andrew and he is just 7 weeks old? Well, a couple of things have prompted this line of thinking. First of all, it has been our dream to have 2 kids. As I'm sure you know from your own personal experience, it is really hard to give up on your dreams, no matter what they are. Secondly, as Andrew has already outgrown his preemie clothes, and has nearly outgrown his newborn clothes, I wonder what to do with them. Do I save them for the next child? Do I give them away? Which brings me back to our dream of having 2 kids. In all reality, this dream may have to shift, and maybe it already has begun to. Relying on me for a successful pregnancy seems pretty pointless. Pursuing another domestic infant adoption may not be financially feasible for us in the near future. Leaving it all to God is our best bet, yet the hardest for me, the planner, to do.

And yes, I will be saving the clothes, as I'm forever the optimist. My point is that as Andrew outgrows clothes it makes me wonder if I'm saving them for our next child, or just for posterity.

Pregnant Thoughts

This post has been floating around La-La Land here in various forms for a while now. I've been hesitant to put my thoughts into words, let alone putting those words into the blogosphere. If anyone is reading this, then I did eventually hit "publish", casting aside all reasonable thought and acts of self-preservation. I know that not everyone will understand me. Shoot, it is likely that nobody will. However, most will still offer support and assure me that I'm not a freak and that, in fact, I'm perfectly reasonable in my thoughts. It isn't likely that someone will come right out and tell me that I am an awful excuse for a woman and that I got what I deserved. Some may think it, but I doubt anyone will actually say it to me. And I'm pretty sure that if anyone even thinks it that the "someone" must not have ever walked in my shoes and is completely lacking even the most basic of empathetic skills. In fact, the more I think about, and write about, "Someone" then less I like them and the less I care what they think. So why the hesitancy here? Maybe it isn't the imagined cruel response of some judgmental person, but rather the act of actually sharing of my thoughts, and claiming them as my own, that scares the bejesus out of me.
Hmmm, I've written a lot here, yet I still haven't said anything.

This most recent miscarriage has thrown me for a loop. Not that it happened, because believe me, I knew that was a very real possibility. The loop comes from how I feel about it. I guess the best way to put it is that I have such mixed feelings.

When I first found out I was pregnant I was freaked out, to say the least. Complete surprise was probably my biggest emotion, followed quickly by joy and then disbelief. The adoption was in the works at the time, and we were just waiting for the birth. I can't tell you the number of people who said, "Now that you are adopting you will get pregnant". I would just look away, knowing that I was already pregnant, yet also knowing that the pending adoption had absolutely nothing to do with me getting knocked up. I also felt a great deal of relief in thinking that maybe this was our answer to having our family completed. One adopted child, one biological child, all within 9 months. Irish twins. I felt like we finally had a winning lottery ticket. Life was finally going our way. My next emotion was panic. How were we ever going to pull this off? Two family leaves from school in the same year? How would we afford two kids on formula and in diapers and daycare? The panic continued full throttle once we brought Andy home. I was sick all day and awake all night. Worry was with me constantly, but it wasn't just worry about two babies in the house at the same time because actually that sounded like some fun. A lot of work, but fun, and oh what a joy to have our family complete. The worry came from being sick and tired and afraid that something would go wrong with either the baby or me.

Then we found out that this pregnancy might not be viable. At 7 1/2 weeks parts were measuring a little behind. By then I was sick, and tired, and annoyed to be facing this again. The waiting over the next week and a half through further testing and ultimately surgery was really rough. I wanted to be enjoying my new baby at home, but found myself distracted about the doomed baby within me. I felt robbed of the opportunity to give Andy a sibling. Then I got pissed. I just wanted it to be over.

After surgery I felt much better. A load had been lifted. The worry was gone. No more worries about my health, a growing baby within me, finances, another leave from school. I was free to just love on Andy without feeling sick or worried. I'm ashamed, so ashamed, to admit it . . . but I felt relieved to have miscarried.

To be continued, another time . . . .

Moving On

My surgery on Friday was completely uneventful, and thus far I'm recovering just fine. I'm still pretty uncomfortable, but it helps to just take it easy and rest. Well, as much as one can with a newborn in the house. Another time I will probably share this weird range of emotions, but for now, I'm doing my best to put this all behind me.

B's cousin, Danicka, has been in town for the past couple of weeks. Her hubby is doing some additional training at the air force base here before they are being moved to Korea. They have a 2 year old, and a 2 month old. So, here we are with the babies.

And here are the babies, which is, after all, what everyone wants to see. Andrew and Courtney. It's hard to believe that she is only 5 weeks older than our little munchkin.
Night time sleep has been a much treasured rarity around here. My friend Melanie sent Andrew this outfit, which, unfortunately, speaks the truth.
Now don't get me wrong, we are so not complaining, but rather, adjusting. Today is B's first day back at work after 2 weeks off playing "Mr. Mom". Today is also my first day home alone all day with Andrew. In addition to feeding and diapering the baby and folding laundry today I'm hoping to make it to the post office, the pet store, and the school district office (once I actually complete the paperwork). Let's hope I'm not overly ambitious.

Help my hubby pick a topic to write about! Be sure to vote in the latest poll!

D (and C) Day

is scheduled for tomorrow morning . . . at 9 am, when I am exactly 9 weeks pregnant. I am strangely relieved to have an end in sight. It has been a long, drawn-out week and a half waiting to see what is happening.

My doctor did a repeat quantitative beta blood test last week, expecting it to have leveled out, or even dropped. Nope. Not me. It rose 6 times. Which, I guess, helps to explain why I still feel like crap.

What does this mean? Apparently my body is too stupid to realize that I'm pregnant with a non-viable blob without a heartbeat. There is no sign of a spontaneous miscarriage in sight. Again.

But I am feisty this time around, or some might call it "non-compliant". The nurse immediately demanded a urine sample when I arrived at my doctor appointment this morning. I refused, since there isn't a test in the world that they could do that would change anything. A little while later she wheeled in the ultrasound machine and told me to get ready. Again, I refused. And reminded her that I just had a comprehensive, and definitive, ultrasound two days ago at the place with the awesome, high-tech equipment. She left the room, and I never saw her again. But the doctor came in immediately, I suppose to see who was causing the ruckus.

By this time tomorrow I will hopefully be resting comfortably, getting caught up on Grey's Anatomy, and putting this all behind me.

Over the Moon Wonderful and Not So Wonderful

First for the "Over the Moon" wonderful part of this post . . . actually, that would be anything having to do with our sweet little Andrew!

Our friends from Washington made Andrew this gorgeous cradle and then drove it down to us last weekend. This picture can't even do it justice, it is just so beautiful. We are just so touched by their thoughtfulness and love for us.

Andrew has also done very well with his frequent feeding schedule. We brought him to the doctor today so he could have his little boy part altered and also found that he is up to a whopping 6 pounds, 3 ounces. That's a little past his birth weight! Now we can loosen up on the feeding schedule and just let him eat when he wants to, rather than forcing him to eat every 2 hours.

We have had only 1 really hard night with Andrew when all he wanted was to be held all night long. Even that wasn't so bad though. We are pretty much enjoying every minute of this. And who can resist this sweet little thing?!?!?!

And now for the "Not So Wonderful" part of this post. I have been holding out on everyone. I know, can you even believe that I was able to keep a secret? I didn't want to say anything earlier and get ahead of myself, and I didn't want to detract from anything about Andrew, but now is the time to open up, because, after all, this is where I am and this is having a definitive impact on our lives right now. In short, I'm waiting to miscarry. I'm 8 1/2 weeks pregnant, but there is no fetal heart activity. Initially we were both overjoyed, and overwhelmed, about being pregnant while adopting Andrew. And now, I'm not sure what I feel. I have another doctor appointment on Thursday at which time we will decide just how to proceed with resolving this. It's a pretty crappy place to be. . . completely ga-ga and over flowing with love for Andrew, yet also mourning what is just not to be.

So, forgive me if posts become scarce over the coming days. I'm trying to just deal, yet remain "in the moment" with B and Andrew.

The Stings Keep Coming

Last year when I was pregnant I did something pretty stupid. And it's something that newly pregnant people do all the time, even optimistic infertile ones. What was this transgression? Well, after having a healthy heartbeat confirmed I relaxed a little, and, apparently, became a little too confident. In addition to signing up online for various pregnancy updates I also ordered a subscription to Fit Pregnancy magazine. By the time the subscription actually made it to my mailbox at the end of the street my pregnancy was done and over with. In fact, I believe that the bill from the last ultrasound came on the same day as the magazine. Ouch. I cried. Then I tried emailing to end my subscription. I even sent a letter via snail mail. The magazine never did stop. Each time I found another one in the mailbox it stung a little less and eventually I quit crying about it and started to just shake my head. Each magazine was added to the others before it on the bookshelf. I just got my last issue in April. I gave them all away to a pregnant co-worker a couple of weeks ago. Finally, it was behind me. Or was it?

Yesterday in the mail I received a big, thick 9x12 envelope. I didn't recognize the return address and couldn't imagine what it might be. Inside I found a letter. From the publisher of Fit Pregnancy. The letter explained that since I allowed my subscription to expire they missed me, and as such, had included a copy of another magazine, Mom and Baby. I didn't cry. But I did shake my head, and even chuckled a little bit, as I resisted the urge to stuff it back in the envelope and mail it back to the publisher along with a surly letter. I realize that the person who made the decision to use this method to retain customers is only thinking of the 95% of pregnant women who will go on to have a real live baby, however, how come nobody ever thinks of those who aren't blessed with a real live baby at the end of a pregnancy? Is it really too much to ask?

What's the Deal with NaComLeavMo?

If you want to know the answer you will have to skip down a little bit, because the first part of this post is for those NaComLeavMo participants who haven't been to my blog before. So, to get you up to speed I'll share a little bit of my story. Two years ago my hubby, Brian, and I were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Months of Clomid did nothing for me. I quit my teaching job so that I would have time to pursue more aggressive fertility treatments. I did a medicated(injectible) IUI and just as we found out it didn't work my dad suffered a terrible fall. He broke his neck in 3 places and is now a quadriplegic. After taking a couple of months off to deal with this new family situation I did 2 more medicated IUI's. They didn't work either. We were ready to head to IVF, however, before the cycle could start we hit the jackpot, or so we thought. I had a natural pregnancy, and things looked great, heartbeat and all, until about 10 weeks when a routine ultrasound showed that there was no longer a heartbeat. Game over, time for a D&C. 4 months later we began the IVF cycle. It started great, but ultimately failed for no good earthly reason. This happened last October. By December we had chosen a domestic adoption agency and in January we started the home study process. By March our home study was approved and profile ready for viewing. We came close to being chosen by a birthmom for her twin daughters, but ultimately came in #2. Our latest opportunity for a match was a few days ago, but we decided to sit that one out. And now you are completely caught up. Wow, looking back at this paragraph it really doesn't seem all that bad, but it sure has felt like going to Hell and back.

It isn't all doom and gloom. I've learned some great things during this time. Brian is truly a champ. If we can get through this I'm confident we can get through anything. I have also learned who I can expect support from, and, um, who I can't expect support from. Even that is a good thing though because it is just as important to know who will let you down as who will lift you up. And this whole infertility bloggyland has been a shining light through the whole journey.

Well, if you have ever been to wonder Mel's site then you already know. And if you are yourself a participant then you already know. Basically it is a way to spread bloggy love through the blogosphere. One of the funnest things about blogging is getting comments. It's wonderful to hear from people who truly get what you are talking about and a great way to make bloggy friends. So, participants have agreed to leave 5 comments, and return 1 comment, each day from May 25th through June 25th. And truly, how could I not participate in something that started on my birthday? Now, I am already a pretty good commenter, but the trick here is to visit new blogs. If you would like more info then just click on my side bar icon for NaComLeavMo.

My experience with NaComLeavMo thus far has been fabulous! I have really enjoyed dropping by so many blogs that I'm not familiar with. When I first started I had hoped to reach "Ironman" status by commenting on each and every participating blog for each of the 4 weeks. However, with well over 200 blogs participating I finally had to admit that it was just impossible with me to catch up since I do need to leave my house each day to work. And I can't blog at work. Also, I found that something was seriously slowing me down. And it wasn't my typing skills. And it wasn't my speed reading skills, or actually, maybe it was. You see, the problem is that once I got to a new blog I wanted to read absolutely everything ever written by that blogger! Anyhow, last night I finally had to admit that I'm just not worthy enough for "Ironman" status and I had to give it up. However, don't worry, the game is still on for general participating.

Crying Over Spilled Milk

Generally I try not to cry over spilled milk. I said "generally", which means that I'm afraid I won't be doing a very good job of it over the next few days. You see, I keep remembering back to a year ago. Exactly a year ago I was blissfully (well, mostly, except for a little anxiety) pregnant. We knew our little embryo had a strong heartbeat and was measuring exactly right. Everything looked normal and I felt that for the first time in a long time everything was going right for us.

It was during a routine ( 9 1/2 week) OB appointment on May 4th that I learned of the demise of my pregnancy. My world came crashing down and I became yet another statistic.

For those who live a little beyond the moment, you will notice that May 4th is Sunday. Just a few short days away. And I am dreading being in that moment. I feel like last year's May 4th will come rushing back at me. Frankly, I could do without that happening because it really sucked the first time around. Even though it has almost been a year it still hasn't been enough time to escape the pain. Now I'm part of an even smaller, worse statistic . . . the one that didn't get pregnant again within months of a miscarriage.

Thanksgiving, In Review

Has it really been a week already since I have written? I must be losing my mind, as well as my fertility, since it really doesn't seem like that long. Come to think of it, it's been a busy time and lots has been going on.

I spent last Tuesday cleaning the house and preparing for our house guests as well as Thanksgiving, and then I had 3 kids in for tutoring in the afternoon. That evening we had dinner with my parents, Eric, Kari and the kidlets. Wednesday was another day of preparing for Thanksgiving (read: SHOPPING) and going to acupuncture (AHHH, exactly what I needed) and later to the hockey game (YEAH! The Coyotes finally won).

On Thursday Brian, Kari and I spent the early part of the day cooking up a storm and preparing for our guests. Everyone came over around 12:30 and left around 7, but it was a great day with yummy food and lots of visiting. Lots of cleaning up too, but it was worth it. Poor Brian got called in to work that evening, and again on Friday (2 or 3 times) and again on Saturday morning and then again around midnight. It definitely wasn't a relaxing, long weekend for him, but then it wasn't as bad for us as it was for the people having the heart attacks that resulted in Brian being called into work. So for that we can continue to be thankful.

On Friday I went shopping with Kari and Ashley, and even my Mom for one quick stop. Then we spent the afternoon visiting at my parent's house with my mom's cousin and her gentleman friend and Kari's parents who also came into town.

Our house guests cleared out on Saturday and then it was time for more shopping. Don't hate me, but I am done with my shopping. Hopefully this will help to ease my stress level.

Throughout all of this time I was pretty much blissfully unthinking of my fertility woes and lack of procreating ability. Until yesterday. We spent the day hanging Christmas lights outside (after 3 trips to Lowes and Target to buy new lights) and lugging all of the holiday stuff into the house. First of all, we have an artificial tree. I hate artificial trees. I never even had one until we moved to Arizona. In our part of AZ it is a must though because it is so dry that it really isn't even safe to have real trees in the house. Anyhow, as I fluffed the tree (my job, since Brian hasn't got the patience for it) a few thoughts slammed into me. Namely, my due date would have been December 6th. Ouch. That is next week. I should have been too pregnant to be standing up on the ladder fluffing a 9 foot tree. Also, I should have been planning the perfect placement for our "Baby's First Christmas" ornament. I should have been planning our photo Christmas card and birth announcements.

And none of this is to be. And it just sucks, no matter what I have to be thankful for.

Since I've Been Gone

Well, I haven't really been gone, but I have been a little absent from blogging for a few days, and I just simply couldn't come up with a better title. Sometimes there just isn't a good title that comes to mind at the beginning of the post. Sometimes something will come to me by the end and then I will pick a title. For now, I'm doing the title first.

I spent Friday just getting stuff done around the house and then running around with my mom in the afternoon. We were going to try to see a movie or go to a casino, but we got held up at the nursing home when details about my dad's upcoming discharge started falling apart.

Oh, I also had a little pity party and meltdown due to the impending IVF cycle. Sometimes it just seems like it couldn't possibly work the FIRST time, and that's all I've got. Sometimes I just feel like it is nothing more than a ginormous emotional shredding that I am required to go through in order to convince everyone that I really have done everything possible to have a baby before moving on to something where I really will bring home a real live baby, like adoption. I feel like adoption won't be an acceptable alternative until I am reduced to a sniveling, sniffly pile of goo upon the floor.

On Saturday Brian and I lazed around the house in the morning and then we went to a casino with my mom. My luck with the slot machines is no better than my luck to conceive and maintain a pregnancy. However, by the end of the day I was only out $65. And it was a lot more fun than a bottle of Clomid. Actually, that was a really bad example because even a can of lima beans is a lot more fun than a bottle of Clomid. And I really hate lima beans.

On Sunday Brian and I did all sorts of running around, but now I can't even really remember what it was all about. Hmmmm.

I worked at the school yesterday doing reading assessments and then yesterday afternoon I had 3 tutoring sessions at home. At the tail end of that Brian called to say that he wanted me to meet him at the Ford dealership because there was a car he was interested in. So, I went down there and three hours later we left with an 'o6 Explorer (Eddie Bauer) with less than 11,000 miles on it. We left behind our Explorer with 130,000 miles on it. The new car is white, with tan exterior trim and tan leather within. It looks brand new and has all the bells and whistles, including 3rd row seating and a sun/moon roof. Being the ever hopeful infertile, I even asked about the child safety features. I'll share a picture some other time.

As for today, I worked at the school today and had an afternoon of tutoring sessions.

And now for the cycle related portion of this post. Consider yourself forewarned . . . if you have no interest now would be a good time to just skip along. That's OK, I'll wait. Everyone ready? I'm at day 21 (and today is the 21st, how appropriate) and with my little 'ole regular cycle that means by next Tuesday I'll be calling the nurse to start the IVF cycle. Unless. Unless lightning really can strike twice. You know what the "lightning" is. The one and only thing that could put off impending IVF. That's right. A pee stick with the magic word. Not two words. Just one. It's all I need. It will be a good start on what I want. However, I'm really relaxed this two week wait and not obsessing at all (except, I have noticed that the "girls" are already sore, and what's up with that? I haven't had PMS symptoms since the miscarriage.) My head knows that there is nothing to be hopeful about. My heart never got the message. Nonetheless, I'm not totally making myself crazy.

Oh, and the meltdown a few days ago? It went as quickly as it came. (With all these mood swings one would suspect Clomid was involved, but I haven't had any all year. I swear.) IVF really IS my best option, not my last option. And it really can work on the first try. I have a friend in real life with that claim to fame, and adorable twin boys to back it up. So, while I am addicted to blog stories, particularly relating to infertility and miscarriage, I would really like to focus on finding some where IVF really did work the first time. If you can help with referrals, or if you yourself are such a mythical creature, please share with me!

Weekend Review, Detox and Meditation

OK, I'm going to start with my Dad's update. After much confusion, yesterday he was discharged from the hospital and admitted to a nursing home to continue the next 10 days of his IV antibiotics. He is back to his old self again. He was never really sick as he didn't feel bad. Illness affects him differently now because he just can't feel things the same anymore. All that we noticed before he went to the hospital was that he was pretty cranky, and for those who know my dad, that is not his personality. Anyhow, the nursing home is really nice. It is only about 2 years old and very clean and nicely decorated. And it doesn't smell like must or old people. My dad raves about the food and so far the care seems to be pretty good as well.

On Friday I came to a realization. And for some it may not be news. However, I have been spending waaayyyyyy too much time online, mostly cruising through blogs and googling stuff. It seems I may be slightly addicted. I won't go into a lot of details, but what happens is that by the time I'm done I'm convinced that I am suffering from a combination of every affliction I have read about. That's right, by the time I logoff I have autoimmune disorders, thyroid disease, heart disease and cancer, and tons of bad luck thrown in just for giggles. Also, my heart just gets so heavy with everyone else's heartbreak. The end result is that I get myself way stressed out and find myself nearly in an anxiety attack. Many people, when faced with stress, participate in retail therapy. However, the nearest mall is 45 minutes away, and it isn't even a good mall. The good stuff is an hour away. I, however, am a freak of nature. My therapy of choice is housekeeping therapy. I'm pleased to report that all of my symptoms have diminished and also my house, all 3,000 square feet of it, is sparkling from top to bottom, and every piece of laundry is done too. Since I have run out of things to clean I am going to have to take drastic steps in my internet detox program. That's right, I am limiting myself to going online twice per day, and for no more than an hour at a time. Brian has even threatened to take my laptop to work with him. Noooooooo!

Before I continue with the last part of this post I have a special message for Brian. If you are reading this, and you are at work, stop right now. Close the blog and go do something else. Read this after you get home. Don't worry, it isn't anything bad. Just read it at home. Trust me.

In other stress reduction news, my friend Meghan sent me some absolutely wonderful infertility meditation CDs. I haven't listened to them in their entirety yet, but so far I am hooked. This evening I took a long bubble bath and did some reading. Afterwards I got comfy in bed and listened to one of the meditations on my ipod. A very odd thing happened while I was listening. I was sorta doing what I was being told and repeating the meditations to myself, however, I was having trouble remembering the words just exactly right. So, sometimes instead of repeating all of the words I was envisioning what I was told. At one point I was supposed to be feeling the support of those encouraging me. I saw lots of people there, some I know and some I don't. There was also a baby, and I knew immediately that this was our lost Angel Baby. The baby told me (think Look Who's Talking) to keep trying and not give up. I was still kind of floored by that when I realized just how tremendously lucky we are to have this Angel Baby waiting for us in heaven. I can't even verbalize, or write, how deep the feeling was, only to say that all of the heartache and pain of the miscarriage is so totally worth knowing that our Angel Baby is waiting for us. It was a very odd feeling, but good. I guess I must have been really relaxed.

Afterwards I continued listening to music on my ipod while Brian was reading on the other side of the room and I went to sleep. When he came to bed much later it woke me up. After tossing and turning for about 2 hours I finally got up and came downstairs, and here I am. So much for my detox program. However, I believe I am still on track because I haven't actually read any blogs right now or googled anything. So that I don't tempt myself now that I have come to the end of my post I think I'll head outside to look for the meteor shower, and then I'll try the whole sleep thing again.

Finding My Way Back

First of all, thanks so much for all of the kind comments! It's way cool and I appreciate the support!

Yesterday was a pretty good day. I only had one tutoring session so I had plenty of time to get other things done, including spending too much time on the computer and getting some exercise.
One of the things on my to-do list was to make an appointment to get my hair done. I have been putting it off for weeks, and mainly because I just didn't want to have to face my stylist. You see, she was just another person who knew I was pregnant and didn't know that I'm not and I just haven't been ready to go there. But, drastic measures were necessary and I had to just suck it up because I have had such a hard time finding a stylist out here that I didn't want to have to search for a new one. So when I called to make an appointment she had one available for this afternoon so off I went. My hair is now 3 inches shorter and my highlights have been touched up, so I am good to go for another 3 months.

I also scheduled a massage for Thursday afternoon with my favorite therapist. Just thinking about it makes me feel all relaxed!

I also had time to talk on the phone for a really long time with my sister-in-law, Kari. We had a great chat. She is having her second baby on Monday and we are so excited to meet him! I'm hoping to get out to CA to see them the first weekend of July.

I've mentioned before that Brian and I are really making an effort to eat more meals at home, and specifically healthy meals. However, Brian likes to plan and shop a week in advance, and I am more of a seat-of-my-pants kinda gal. For right now I win, since I am not working. So today I took a couple of small sirloins out of the freezer. Ha! Something Brian would have to prepare! I also made Sweet Potato Salad, which was a new recipe for us. Actually, we really enjoyed it, though I am taking the leftovers to my parent's house in an effort to share the beta carotene love. I also made a salad with baby spring lettuces, cucumbers, pears, bleu cheese crumbles, craisins, walnuts and raspberry walnut vinaigrette. Yum!

Brian is off today so we are going to the gym together this morning and then into Phoenix to go to the baseball game this afternoon. I'm counting on the fact that they will have the roof of the stadium closed since we are expecting it to be about 11o degrees today. But really, it's OK, it's a dry heat! So, I'm looking forward to a nice relaxing afternoon with my hubby.

Painful Reminders

Today's mail delivery brought a painful reminder. It was an invoice from my RE's office for my prenatal ultrasounds and office visits. To the tune of $500 since it isn't covered by my insurance. I always thought that I wouldn't mind paying for prenatal ultrasounds. I guess I should have specified that I wouldn't mind paying for them if I was actually still pregnant. The funny thing is that the ultrasound at 9.5 weeks through my OB was covered. I guess I should be glad that I didn't have to pay for that one too.

So then while I was organizing my medical paperwork I came across our invoice for the IVF cycle that we never got to since I got pregnant naturally on the break cycle before. A part of me really wants to go through with it. Maybe not next month, but at some point. And that feels really odd because since the miscarriage I have had little interest in pursuing IVF. Does that mean I still have hope? Or that I fear that I won't get pregnant naturally again in the next few months?

And I couldn't leave well enough alone. I kept thinking. And the more I thought, the more I realized that I am really afraid of getting pregnant again. As much as I want a baby with all of my heart, I am terrified of getting pregnant again. Actually, it isn't the getting pregnant part that terrifies me as much as the fear of having another miscarriage. I guess this is where the faith part should be coming into play.

So this is my plan for getting my hope and faith going again:
1) Pray like crazy
2) Read the books I have to lift and encourage me

And this is what I have been doing to prepare myself for whatever lies ahead:
1) Weekly acupuncture
2) Almost daily exercise
3) I've given up caffeine except for an occasional iced tea
4) I've completely given up artificial sweeteners
5) I've given up all soda except for Hansen's Natural, which I only have every couple of days
6) Consuming lots of organic fruits and veggies
7) Limiting meat and diary with added growth hormones
8) Cooking at home more, and eating out way less, and trying new things. We made some completely awesome mahi mahi last week.
9) Which is all leading up to taking off some weight. The more the merrier, I haven't really put a number on it, though in the short term I would like to take off 20 pounds.

Any other suggestions for me? I promise, you can leave suggestions because I don't bite.

Ouch

I've been plugging along thinking that I have been doing pretty well emotionally with this whole miscarriage thing. I've maintained a pretty good attitude and really tried to keep everything in perspective. I'm still very hopeful about getting pregnant again. I've really tried to conduct myself with love, hope and faith.

But . . . . (and really, you knew this was coming)

I was doing some blog hopping today and came across a blog by someone who is pregnant and just found out she is having a boy. And her due date is December 6th. That was my due date.

Ouch.

So much for plugging right along. Seeing that date stopped me right in my tracks.

Ouch.

Restful Sleep

Some of my biggest physical complaints since my miscarriage have been awful sleep patterns and migraine type headaches. I went to acupuncture last Wednesday and both issues were addressed. My headache felt better immediately, but it returned later that evening. I decided on an early bedtime so I took Motrin, Benedryl and a hot shower before climbing into bed. I immediately fell asleep and began to have the most wondrous dream. I dreamt that we had a baby! Before I could enjoy myself too much I was rudely awakened by Molly, who had been sleeping with me, as she started yacking and I was afraid she was going to puke in my bed. Anyhow, my dream was so vivid and seemed so real. I have carried with me a sense of peace since then. And for that I am grateful.

Every now and then doubt and worry creeps back into my thoughts. Doubt and worry that my ovaries might not get back with the program. Doubt and worry that my only chance to have a baby is gone. And in these moments I try to remember my dream, as well as my desire to face this maze of infertility and miscarriage with love, hope and faith.