The party yesterday was nice... another one outside. In the 90 degree heat. With not a cloud in the sky.
I'm so not a summer person.
The baby was darling. So friggin happy and "talking" so much. It was quite humorous.
She liked the books I got and actually "read" one.
What a sweetie.
After the party, we stopped over at my mom and grandmom's and talked to them for a while.
Lots of politics.
I'm not a very political person but I've never been so personally offended by a Presidential race as this one - since McCain's announcement of his Alaskan VP in hopes of getting Hilary voters. Fucking fucks.
And it's not like I was a huge Hilary fan, but I am a woman, and I just can't help but to take offense to their tactics.
In other news, our downstairs neighbors decided to have a party last night.
Until about 5AM.
Then at 7AM, when I was finally in a deep sleep, someone decided to try to break down the door downstairs. After a 1/2 hour of listening to the pounding and then hearing our doorbell ringing over and over again, I finally had enough and bitched some little twat out.
No I don't have a fucking key but there's a fucking police station a block away if you need help.
I'm getting too fucking old for this shit.
Oh and even more fucked up news, my nephew was in the hospital last week because he had blood on the brain that wouldn't go down - from falling on the concrete. He also had marijuana and alcohol in his blood.
Like I said, I'm getting too fucking old for this shit.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
The party yesterday was nice... another one outside. In the 90 degree heat. With not a cloud in the sky.
Friday, August 29, 2008
TGIF - for real! Holy hell has this been a long week for me.
Work is a bit stressful right now. I've got ONE - count them, ONE - fucking client out of hundreds and hundreds that I'm having a real difficult time trying to figure stuff out with. It's very frustrating because I'm usually one that comes up with some sort of solution when a problem arises but this time I'm stumped. And I don't like that feeling.
I still don't have my period. My boobs still don't really hurt. I know this is all parr for the course but I still don't like it. Give me my period or give me a healthy pregnancy. Is that too much to ask for? (And NO, I haven't POAS yet and I won't until my birthday, next Saturday, at the earliest.)
Tomorrow we have our second 1-year-old birthday party to go to. I'm actually really excited about this one! After handling the last one, I'm sure I can handle this one... and I just can't wait to play with the baby! She's almost walking and she's such a happy baby! Yay for babies! :)
Not much else planned for the long weekend ... though we have a ton of cleaning and laundry to do around the house. Yay for long weekends!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I've been blogging for several years but it was always as someone other than me - if that makes sense. I don't like hurting people with my thoughts, so I always falsified my real identity and location. But with this blog, it's different. This blog is about me and my journey... with no false information.
In the past, the people I knew in real life (and not through a blogging community) never read my other blogs. And I guess I lost touch of that with this blog... Apparently I have a lot of friends that check in with me often here and to them I would like to say both THANK YOU and I'M SORRY.
Thank you for your support and for caring. It means a lot to me - probably more than you will ever know. And I'm sorry for all the negativity that fills this particular blog and that that's all you're getting when you check in. :(
My life is not consumed with negativity as it might seem like through some of my posts. It's really not.
I come here to get shit out of my head in the hopes that it doesn't fester and cause a problem down the line. And I very rarely re-read what I write because, frankly, I have no desire to re-live the thoughts again.
So while I do appreciate you checking in and stuff, know that the negativity doesn't consume my every waking hour. Know that I haven't lost my mind completely. Know that I really am doing quite well and that I still consider life to be a wonderful gift.
It's just a bit of a rough journey right now that will, one day soon, get better.
Peace, love, and happiness (and puppies and rainbows :wink: ),
P.S. I still don't have my period and I still won't POAS and I still *hate* the waiting game. :P
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Four weeks ago, my boobies hurt and felt like they were growing bigger and bigger every second... my tummy was queasy... I still felt like a mom-to-be... BUT BUT BUT we were on our way to the hospital.
I don't really want to revisit those memories. Feel free to read all about it in my other blog.
Anyway, it's been four weeks exactly since it officially ended.
I still don't have my period.
And I will *not* POAS. I don't even want to.
I'm extremely irritable and bitchy. So I'm sure AF will show up any moment. I can't wait. My H can't wait. When the whore shows up, it means some peace in our home... in my head.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
I'm not sure what's going on exactly, but I can't find much motivation to do... well... anything lately. :( It's getting quite sad.
I'm so fat, but I can't find the strength to do something about. I eat like shit because I just don't give a shit. I can't exercise because I'm too fat. It's a horrible, vicious cycle that people don't really comprehend unless they've been at this weight. Hell, I used to think "move!" and you'll lose some weight but when you're as heavy as I've gotten, just "moving" can be difficult.
I don't know if I care to try to get pregnant again. Of course, I will still have sex because I love sex. But, right now, I just don't give a shit if I get pregnant. Frankly, I'd much rather look into adoption at this point... all I want is to mother a child. I don't give a shit if it's biologically my own. I just want to mother.
This probably all means that I'm still not over the loss. Who knows. It's been almost four weeks and I've accepted it and I can even talk about it without breaking down... so I *think* I'm over it.
Maybe this is all PMS. I do get like this - moody, depressed, unmotivated - when I have PMS. But I have no idea if I'm PMSing because I don't have any other "normal" symptoms I used to get - the cramps, the bloating, the sore boobs... basically the same "symptoms" I had when I got knocked up.
I need something to look forward to... something positive and good that I can focus my energy on. But I don't really have anything. Sure my birthday is a week and a half away but at my age and with my history of having "nothing special" birthdays, it's nothing to look forward to. Believe me. Besides, I'm talking something long term to look forward to... something like a vacation or something.
I wish I could start writing again... focus my energy on creating a character and a life for that character. But I have NO motivation.
God, I really hope this is all just PMS.
Please let this be PMS.
If it's PMS, it'll pass.
And I want these feelings to pass.
Monday, August 25, 2008
I'm not sure what it is about Sunday nights, but I slept like ass again last night. It must be the excitement over starting a new week at work. Right.
I had a pretty shitty day overall yesterday. I really pray that I'm getting my period and this is PMS because if it's not PMS, if it's about having anger issues and a complete and utter lack of patience... then I'm in trouble. And so is my marriage.
And that fucking sucks.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Apparently it's time to color my hair. I had three different people comment on the gray yesterday - not on how much hair I chopped off, but on the gray and how there was a lot of it. Gee, thanks for the breaking news, Einstein. Would it be OK of me to comment on all your wrinkles and that maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time in the sun or smoked a little less cigarettes cuz you look about 10 years older than you actually are? Oh that's right, I have common courtesy so I'll just *think* those thoughts while you actually verbalize yours. Thanks for playing.
Yesterday was the first of two 1-year-old birthday parties I had to attend. It was fun (aside from the gray hair comments) and the only time I got teary eyed was when they sat the birthday boy in his high chair, gave him his little cake, and all the guests (about 30 total) started singing happy birthday to him. He looked around at everyone looking at and singing to him and started to cry. The poor little guy! I seriously couldn't help but get welled up because both his mom's (he's the product of IVF to a lesbian couple) tried to get his attention on to them so he would stop crying, which he did.
He's a happy baby. Very content. Ready to walk any minute. And he's absolutely adored by his mom's and all their friends.
I held him only once (did I mention he's the product of a lesbian couple? yeah so that means he's got grandparents that didn't think they were going to get a grandchild, and a gazillion "aunts" that want to do nothing but shower him with their love) and played with him for only a couple minutes. It was when I was about to play Bocce Ball with my dad, husband, and one of the granddads.
Z (the baby) spotted the balls we were holding and tried to come toward us so I gently tossed one of the Bocce balls onto the grass for the little guy to come toward. He did so I knew he wanted to play with the ball, but also had the sense to realize that he wouldn't really be able to lift the Bocce ball so I found a rubber ball and started playing catch with him. He was so happy when he threw the ball toward me that he squealed and waved his little arms about.
Gah, I cannot wait! It's not about being pregnant for me, though that's obviously step 1; I just want a child to nurture, to care for, to adore, to love, to guide, to protect, to help grow, to help thrive, to help and watch learn...
There were a couple times when a couple family members I haven't seen for a while asked how we've been doing. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a baby, but I have a feeling that they think we don't want kids or something... after all, we were together for 7 years before we got married last year and I'm getting up there in age. But, then again, maybe they realize that those kind of questions can very well be hurtful... look how long they had to wait for a baby to get into their family since one of the mother's (the one that didn't birth Z) is a lesbian.
I don't know, but I was SO grateful that nobody asked us when we were going to have a baby. SO grateful. And can I just add that it was not at all easy to answer the question, "So what have you guys been up to lately?"
"Not too much," was my answer that left my lips when my head said, Oh just finally finding out that I'm pregnant, being elated about the pregnancy, falling madly in love with the growing baby for four weeks, only to find out there was no heart beat and making the hardest decision in my life to undergo surgery to suck the pregnancy out of my uterus in hopes of being able to move on and forward.
"Just work and stuff," I said.
Meh, it's all to be expected I guess... and I'm just grateful I didn't have any crying spells or anything and that I was able to enjoy yesterday for what it was - Z's first birthday. It's not *always* about me, after all.
That was yesterday and today's a different day:
This morning after I came back to bed for the umpteenth time after peeing, yet again, I told DH that a part of me thought I might be pregnant again because of all the peeing and because of the *extremely vivid* dreams I've been having every single night for the past two weeks - just like when I was pregnant last time.
"I'm trying not to get worked up about it though, in case I'm not and because I really don't think I am," I added. "Plus, if I really am, I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time."
Saying it out loud to someone else really made me sad for a moment - I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time. It shouldn't be like that. Every pregnancy is different and my chances of having a healthy pregnancy following a miscarriage are great... but it's how I feel. Today at least.
"You probably haven't even ovulated yet," he answered.
"Yeah," I said, trying to drift off into another dream.
Friday, August 22, 2008
I've been doing pretty good this week and I think I can attribute that to my drastic hair cut last Friday.
Today, however, I'm beginning to feel a little down again. I'm sure it doesn't help that I've been bouncing around the fucking internet all day long. Add that to the fact that I've got period-like cramping going on and NO sore boobies and I'm beginning to think the fucking whore Aunt Flo may be coming after all.
Why I can't just miraculously be pregnant again, I don't know, but I don't think it's in my cards. No... that would be too easy. And nothing in my life has ever come easy so why the fuck would it start now?!?
See that? That's anger. I still have a lot of it and I've noticed that it really hasn't dissipated like I thought... or like I hoped. It shows up the most when I'm driving, which has become *much more* aggressive lately.
Fuck, maybe I just need to see a fucking shrink again.
Oh but instead I get to go to a one-year-old's birthday party tomorrow where I'm sure there will be lots of happy mommy and daddy's and other kids around.
Shoot me now.
I slept like shit last night. I woke up around midnight and had to pee and just as I was finishing up, what do I see scurry across the tub? A fucking cockroach. It's the first one I've seen in a week, but I - like many others - hate those motherfucking things. Hate, hate, hate. I caught the little fucker and flushed him and the building has been sprayed down twice and we have roach motels everywhere, but still... It's hard to go back to sleep when you envision roaches everywhere. :(
Then there were people outside from like 2AM to 5AM. Talking, laughing, smoking. I fucking hate living in the city.
Then at about 3:30AM the fucker (literally) upstairs decided to dance on his mattress. The odd thing is that while we hear him going at it - or at least the mattress being abused and bounced on - we *never* hear or see anyone but him. DH and I have decided this morning that dude might have a blow up doll or something.
I fucking HATE where we live!
What little dreaming I did do last night involved water and a shark and some other people. I don't know who the other people were but there were two other people and they fell into the water. There was some sort of raft or something in the middle - they were on one side, I was on the other. That's when I saw a shark's fin coming toward the other two and then I *felt* it brush up against me. Freaky.
Prior to going to sleep last night, S and I watched some of the Olympics and just hung out on the couch. He was extra affectionate for some reason, really looking at me and smiling and telling me several times how lucky he felt to get to spend every day with me. :) Then he said the last time he really felt so good about life was the night before his car got stolen in late January. :( I asked if he felt like that when I was pregnant as I know, for me, it was some of the best days of my life, and he said that every day is wonderful, but that he has moments when he feels like his life is magical or something. :)
I'd be about 10 weeks right now... I'd be gearing up to tell folks after my bday in two weeks. Really! What an awesome bday present that would have been - to turn 36 and be 12 weeks pregnant and to be able to share that with those closest to us.
Meh, it'll still happen some day.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I had long, straight, frizzy hair that I tried to wear in two braids. I remember this because at one point I tried fixing my hair (in the dream) and ended up having to take it out of the braids and re-braiding it.
Anyway, Bryan was this FBI agent or something - and he was there teaching a bunch of "us" how to become detectives. I knew it was actually "the" Bryan Adams, and so did the rest of the "class" but Bryan wrote his name on the chalkboard as Bryan Granitza. I couldn't believe he chose the last name of Granitza as it's the last name of my favorite childhood soccer player.
Bryan tried to teach us how to become good detectives and he occasionally would break into song and I couldn't concentrate on anything he said, but rather could only concentrate on him as Bryan Adams. He wore dirty, worn out jeans; black boots; black t-shirt; and his dirty blonde hair was pretty messy. He looked like... Bryan Adams.
I asked him some random question, but I think it had to do with songwriting as opposed to FBI work and he answered me in song. He started talking but turned into a rhyme and by the end of the answer, he was singing and I was in awe. The rest of the class didn't seem to amused, however.
At one point we were all outside doing some sort of field training or something. Bryan was driving this tractor trailer around singing to himself and tapping his old boots. He was clearly in a different place.
That's when a bunch of my classmates attacked him and left him to die. I was beside myself because I had to pretend like I was on my classmates' side and not caring for Bryan when in reality I wanted to cry and scream and attack my classmates. They were all running around like crazy freaks and I tried joining in but I didn't leave Bryan too far out of sight. At one point I had run back toward the tractor that held the folded over Bryan and I realized he was still breathing and he looked at me as if to scream help.
That's when I realized I had straight long hair (as opposed to the short curly mop I currently have in real life) because I went to twirl my hair to calm my nerves... and that's when I re-braided my hair because I was stalling rejoining the others.
That's all I can remember clearly... I'm pretty certain I got him some help as I remember pulling him somewhere and getting a couple of the others to help me. But that's really all I can remember.
These dreams are making me crazy lately!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I have egg whites!! :) I have EGG WHITES!
It's been three weeks exactly since the D and C and I have egg whites!
Maybe that means I'm actually ovulating!
Normally I'd get my period about now but don't feel period-y at all... so these egg whites must mean I'm ovulating later than normal (probably due to the surgery) and might also mean it's time to get pregnant again!
I heard from my nephew yesterday. It was the first time in about three weeks that I've heard from him. He called because he got my MySpace message to him asking how he was doing.
Last time we talked, he told me he got a job. This time he told me he quit because he couldn't work for people who didn't respect him.
Last time we talked, he told me he was involved in a 'fight club' of sorts - a group of his friends all got together in someones basement to fight one another. This time he told me that the reason he hasn't called Grandpa (my dad), is because he has two black eyes from two different regular fights, not pertaining to this 'fight club', and can't see him because of the black eyes.
Last time we talked, he was calling from his cell phone - a phone he was able to have using his mother's plan. This time he called me from a number I didn't recognize and told me he lost his cell phone and was using his mother's.
I love my nephew with all of my heart and soul but I've spent about 15 years of his 16 years mothering the boy and I simply cannot do it anymore. I've said that before and have always caved and gone back giving my all to him, but ever since I found out I was pregnant, something changed in me and I sincerely cannot mother this boy anymore. I will continue to be here for him - always - but I can no longer make sure he follows a good path and I can no longer try to push him down that good path.
He knows what I think. He knows what I believe. He knows what I expect from him. He knows what he should and shouldn't be doing.
It's up to him now.
I worry about him often and I do believe he can succeed at whatever he wants - and I tell him this often. But I also know that he's very destructive as that's what draws attention to him, which is something he craves.
My munchkin man booger butt (MMBB) is all grown up and while there are moments when I still see him as my little MMBB, there are even more moments when I see him as trash. It's sad, really. I used to be afraid that he was going to turn into a loser, but the more time passes, the more I realize he already is a loser. At 16.
I would be mortified at myself if I was his parent.
What saddens me the most about all of it is that he is a prime example of why some people should not have children... and none of it is really his fault! It infuriates me to think about it all! Yes he's made the choices that have turned him into who he is today, but he never had the support and love and nurturing and guidance from his parents to help him make better choices. It's like the kid had no chance. It's fucking disgusting when you really dissect it all.
Yet somehow I need to *believe* that the reason my pregnancy had to end was because it had to, because had the baby grown to full term, something would've gone wrong... as opposed to believing that maybe I really am not supposed to be a biological mother for some reason or another.
Blech. It's stupid to correlate the two. My time *will* come - and hopefully my nephew will still be around to partake in it all.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I've been *really* tired the past couple of days. So much so that I actually told S last night, "I know this isn't even a real possibility, but I'm so drained that it's like it was when I was pregnant." Cuz it is. But I'm sure I'm not. And I really don't even want to get my hopes up so I shouldn't even be blogging about it. But I am. Obviously. Heh.
It's been almost three weeks (tomorrow) since the ... end. I have no cramps and my boobs don't hurt. I wonder when I'll get my period again. I wonder if "the end" will effect my cycle.
Gah, only time will tell.
And now I get to start over with the waiting game. Waiting for ovulation, waiting for my period, or waiting for that BFP (big fat positive).
Such a mean, mean fucking game!
Monday, August 18, 2008
So yesterday went pretty well - for the most part.
We ended up over at my aunt and uncle's house just around the corner from my grandmother's house. My one cousin was celebrating his 25th birthday and they had cake, cookies (that I made), and coffee for everyone. It was nice to sit around the table and talk with everyone. We used to this a lot when my grandfather was alive but ever since he passed, family gatherings have really diminished. It's kind of sad because it makes me realize my child - should I be blessed with one - will not really get to experience large family gatherings.
Anyway, we talked and laughed and then I asked if my other cousin's daughter is walking yet. She's going to be one in a couple weeks. And that's when things became a little difficult.
I should've been able to listen to the gush of the beautiful, happy baby with a huge smile on my face knowing that in a year and a half's time, people would be gushing about my almost-walking baby. Instead I had a smile on my face and tried not to think of what could've been or what would've been.
That's when they brought out the pictures and oh my what a genuinely happy baby! The smile on her face in every single picture makes everyone else looking at the pictures smile. You can't help it.
The grandparents and uncle (my aunt and uncle and other cousin) went on and on about how she's taking about 7 steps on her own before she plops onto the floor; about how she sticks out her tongue back and forth a couple times when they ask her to do a lizard face; about how she's got 10 teeth; about how she engages everyone whenever they go out to eat or anything.
And I listened and smiled and laughed and focused on the child they gushed on about, but found myself drifting a couple times. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a child.
The next couple of weekends are going to be quite interesting... we have a birthday party for one of my cousin's one-year old's this Sunday and another birthday party for the aforementioned cousin's one-year old next Saturday.
And then in three weeks, my birthday. I was intending to tell people around my birthday that we were having a baby in March. Not gonna happen this time around.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Yesterday was a boring day for us, for me. Very boring. Didn't do a heck of a whole lot of anything. Took a nap. Watched a Lifetime movie. Made some cookies to bring today. Ate a lot of shit.
Today we have to go check in on my friends cats and then go visit with my crazy aunt S (CAS) and her kids who are visiting from Europe. They're staying with my grandma and my mom about an hour away from us. I'm not really looking forward to the visit because I hate being judged by my weight and I'm certain that if no comments are verbally said, they'll be thought of at least. Blah. And then with my new hair, I'm sure it will cause some comments... I just hope they all stay away from the Carrot Top comments.
I'm just not a social person apparently. The other day when I was getting my hair chopped, I barely spoke. What's there to say, really? I had never met these people before and I'm just not a people person... and I can't pretend that I am, either. Then my friend who set up the hair appointment arrived and she and my hairstylist and others jabbered on and on. How do they do it? I've always been envious of people who could ... communicate ... with one another when not really knowing each other.
Stupid, I know. I KNOW!
The saddest thing is that this is how I am even when I do know people. I don't talk much at all. It never really matters anyway so what the fuck is the point?
Boy do I have issues.
So my CAS. For a while there I thought that people in my family were repeating the lives of the older generation. For example, I saw my sister repeating my mother's life almost to a T, and my brother repeating my father's life. So who's life am I repeating? CAS. That's what I used to think because she didn't end up getting married until her 30s and she didn't have her first child until close to 40. And that's where I am. But she's also gone a little crazy over the past several years. She even had to be in the hospital for several weeks and was apparently diagnosed with being bipolar. Fantastic!
While I have my issues and while I'm not always the happiest person in the world, to date, I don't feel as if my emotions are so erratic to be that of someone with bipolar.
Who knows, though.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Sweeping away the bad (this is the final sweep - took three times!)...
Holy fuck do I feel like a different person (see the before side view in the previous post):
It's a little shorter (OK a lot shorter) than I wanted but it's super cute and super easy and super curly and way fucking different! And I'm totally confident that it's going to maintain the cute stacked look even if I grow it out! So exciting! A definite change - something I was in desperate need of.
It's a new me! :)
...another headache. Poop!
It'll go away though.
Anyway, today is not about feeling bad or sad or angry. Nope, today is going to be about A) not having to go into work (hoorah!), and B) trying to make a big change.
I'm hoping to find someone to take my head from this:
Thursday, August 14, 2008
I just re-read what I wrote last night. I'm a fucking loser sometimes.
I can't always be Super-aunt/wife/daughter/sister/friend. Sometimes, I have to let go of those reigns and let someone else put on the cape.
The sad thing is that usually I feel let down when that happens.
And then I feel like a bigger loser.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
So here goes: I'm putting it all out there in the next 50 minutes I have before S comes home. I've been holding back for some time now because I know there are some dear, dear people who read this blog who I don't want to offend or upset in any way... but the fact of the matter is that this is my blog and it was created to help me heal.
And I still need to heal.
I'm very sad. It only seems to get worse than better. I swear to god that I was OK two weeks ago. I was OK with what happened... with what had to happen. But every day seems to get worse and worse and worse and I'm not sure how to handle it.
It's not like I can't get up in the morning and go to work. It's not like I can't laugh at things and be goofy... it's just there are moments. A lot of moments throughout the day when I feel... empty.
There it is - that fucking word I hate so much. That word I've fought so hard to never enter my vocabulary again. Empty.
I hate what that word means when it's used to describe the way someone feels. To me, there's nothing worse than feeling empty.
It's almost as bad as not feeling like there's any hope left.
But there is always hope.
But yeah, the emptiness. I haven't felt the emptiness in a long, long time - at least 10 years or so and I've really worked hard to not go down that road again.
But lately, I've had moments of emptiness and it's been scary.
And the anger. By god the anger is gaining control of me... talk about scary! I try so hard each and every day to smile and to laugh - to find anything to smile and laugh at or about. I try and I usually succeed.
But then there are those fucking moments when the anger and/or the emptiness gets a hold of me and doesn't want to let go.
I almost feel like I'm suffocating at times...
Just before hopping on here to blog, I was talking to S on the phone - he's on his way home from work and I was calling to let him know I was home. I was looking for batteries for the cordless keyboard and asked if he knew where they were. He didn't. I told him that I *needed* to blog - and blogging is something we rarely discuss.
He said, "I wish you would talk to your husband instead of the computer."
And I did. I broke down. I started crying and I told him how I guess I wasn't over the miscarriage, that I wanted to be pregnant and excited and nervous; I told him that I was sad, incredibly sad and that I was angry; I told him that I needed the batteries so that I could blog, that I didn't want to talk to him about it because - in all honesty - I'm not sure what the fuck is wrong with me; I told him that I *guess* it's all because of the loss.
But I have no clue.
I just know that I can't stand to read about pregnancies... a lot of the pregnancies I'm reading about are my own friends' pregnancies. And I'm so incredibly happy for them... but I can't stand to fucking read about it anymore. I can't stand it. The baby names, the clothes not fitting, the baby showers, the backaches, the ultrasounds, the heartbeats. I can't do it anymore. I can't be excited for them anymore.
And I can't stand myself for not being able to be excited for them.
And then there's the pregnant ladies. I swear to fuck they are everywhere. And the kids. Babies and kids and baby bumps EVERYFUCKINGWHERE I turn.
I can't stand it anymore because I so pathetically and desperately want it to be my turn.
I so appreciate everyone telling me stories about people they know - or they themselves - who've gone through a miscarriage (or more) and have also had healthy pregnancies. I really and wholeheartedly appreciate this more than words can say because I know they don't want me to give up and they want me to know that there is still hope.
And I agree.
But I also know that time is not on my side.
While I'm not ancient, I'm not 25 anymore. I don't have time to have another two miscarriages before the doctors start looking more into what happened. I don't have time!! Yes, I probably will get pregnant and it will probably be healthy... BUT WHAT IF I DON'T OR WHAT IF THIS HAPPENS AGAIN?! Can you tell me that? What the fuck happens if I don't get knocked up for another year or two. I'm turning 36 in three weeks. I don't have any other children. This is it, people!! Don't you fucking understand that this is my ONLY opportunity?!?
Even the fucking doctor acts like it's not a big deal... and I get it. I do. Because, again, chances are pretty darn great that I *will* get pregnant again and it *will* be a healthy pregnancy and I *will* become a mom... but there is NO guarantee of that.
And by god, I'm sick of being positive about everything. I'm fucking SICK OF IT!
My head hurts. It fucking hurts because I'm crying like a little bitch and I can't fucking stand it.
And listen to my language ... or read it. How can a someone who wants to mother so fucking bad, write like this?
And I'm tired.
And I need to take a shit.
God, maybe S was right... maybe I am just PMSing.
But I don't really cry like this when I'm PMSing.
That's why I think I'm not over it. Or something.
Gah, I need to end this for now... S just called so I have to go move the car anyway.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
So my follow-up D and C appointment... UGH!
In all honesty, I've been doing OK in regards to the missed "abortion" and losing the baby - for the most part, at least. Sure I have my moments, but I've been able to get up in the morning and go to work and do my job and whatever else... Granted, I've noticed that I'm angrier than before - at any and every little thing - but I suppose that's all par for the course.
I didn't know quite what to expect from today's appointment, but I had hoped for a couple of things NOT to happen: I didn't want any more blood drawn, any more vaginal exams, any more ultra sounds, and I really didn't want to see any happy pregnant couples in the waiting room. I pretty much figured I was safe with everything but the vaginal exam and the happy couples.
After I signed in to the receptionist and took a seat, I could see that there was indeed a happy couple in the waiting room. Just me, them, the TV and the receptionist. Thank god for the TV! I tried so hard not too look at them because the fact of the matter is that there's NO REASON they shouldn't be happy! And there's no reason I need to be getting upset because of someone else's happiness!
But it was hard. They were happy. Really, really happy. She had an ultrasound picture in her hand, and a little bump already forming in her lap. He also had another ultrasound picture, and the biggest smile on his face. And that's what I saw from my peripheral vision as I tried to study the TV! Then I noticed some extra movement and as much as I tried to focus on the news from the TV, I couldn't help but notice what the movement was: the baby daddy was so happy he leaned over, rubbed his woman's belly and then kissed the belly.
It was one of the most sweetest things I've seen in a long time and while it brings a tear to my eye right now, when it happened it actually made me feel better instead of worse. They were happy. Really, really happy. And they were going to be having a baby!
Soon after the sweet moment, an obvious pregnant woman walked in. I say obvious because her bump was definitely a bump and not just a fat, beer belly. Plus she stood with her hand holding her back... and we all know the toll a women's back can take during pregnancy. :)
The nurse called to the obvious pregnant woman and took her back into the office.
The happy parents-to-be still sat gleaming with joy against the wall.
Another woman strolled in. This time, it wasn't obvious if she was with child or not. She said something to the receptionist and the receptionist said the same thing she said to me in return, "This is just a follow up from the surgery, right?"
My heart sank for her. She was there for the same reason I was.
Finally my name was called and I followed the nurse directly into one of the doctor's offices rather than stopping for my weight like my most recent appointments... back when I was pregnant. And rather than take my blood pressure, she opened a drawer and took out a paper cover up and told me the doctor needed me to get undressed from the waist down.
Fuck, I thought but instead said, "For real?"
She looked at me and said, "Yes." And I could see the empathy in her eyes. And I realized how incredibly difficult their jobs must be at times.
I took off my shoes and pants and fought back the tears all while saying "Fuck" quietly several times. I hoisted my fat ass onto the fucking table and waited.
The doctor came in and I was elated to see that it was my doctor again! He wasn't the cold and matter of fact doctor he was three weeks ago, he was back to the warm and open and informative doctor I chose to be "the one" to examine my Secret Garden all those years back.
He asked how I was doing and if there was any heavy bleeding or cramping.
"Not since the end of that weekend," I replied. "But I have had spotting almost every day."
He told me that was all to be expected but as long as it wasn't real heavy bleeding or cramping and as long as I wasn't screaming in pain during the exam - which he did while he told me this - then all was good.
He told me they send out the "pregnancy tissue" - for which he hesitated saying - to ensure that it comes back as "pregnancy tissue" and not say "intestine", or something. Mine came back "pregnancy tissue" so that was good (I was pregnant!) and made me chuckle because of his delivery of it.
And with that, he was done with the exam and said, "So I guess this means that - if you're ready - you can start trying again."
"I'm not sure if you given that any thought," he continued.
"We have," I said and before the words came out, the tears welled. "We decided," I continued, swallowing the tears, "to start again right away."
He seemed almost happy. And he went on to tell me about how it may take a little while still before the hormone levels go back down, before I ovulate, before things all get back to "normal" but that it shouldn't take more than six months.
He asked if I had questions and I asked that if, nope WHEN we get pregnant would the same things happen again or would they treat me differently. He told me that they really don't start looking more into the why's behind miscarriages until the third miscarriage, and that if they think something may not be going well with a pregnancy, they start taking the hormone levels (hCG).
"So you don't *always* start with the blood tests?" I asked.
"Not unless we can't clear up things on the ultrasound."
And that's when the past three weeks became as clear as a crystal fucking ball to me. The Doc was not his usual, warm and informative Doc that I always liked three weeks ago because he knew from that first appointment that things weren't well. He knew it but he wasn't sure so had to make sure. He couldn't come right out and say "this pregnancy isn't going to last" because he wasn't 100% sure that was the case - hence the blood tests and extra ultrasounds.
It also explained the demeanor of the PA as she, too, knew that we were holding on by a thread.
I mean, really, how fucking draining must it be to work in the area of pregnancies? Sure it's probably wonderful and almost euphoric when the pregnancy is wonderful and healthy... but what does it do to the nurses and doctors and staff when they have to witness an unhealthy pregnancy? When they have to be the bearer of some of the most horrific news imaginable?
"You're baby stopped growing."
"There is no heartbeat."
"The blood tests don't look good."
It wasn't that my doctor was bothered or annoyed by me or that the PA thought my feet smelled or something. It was that they were preparing for my emotion before I could prepare for it myself. They were preparing for my own hell. Just like they have with so many other women and parents many times before (and after) me.
"Just another ride on the roller coaster of life," Doc said to me before saying good-bye.
And I can almost see the top again.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Tomorrow is my follow-up doctor's visit with my doctor since the D&C. I've been really and truly "OK" lately. Sure, I cried during Tori and Dean the other night, but who wouldn't?! A new baby was brought into the world to a couple who seem like they're so in love with being parents. That warrants a couple tears in my opinion.
I have to honestly say, though... I really hope there's nobody in the waiting room when I get there. Nobody obviously pregnant at least. I cannot handle seeing couples sitting there beaming with joy as they study their ultrasound pictures again. As "OK" as I've been lately, I'm pretty confident that I will lose it if that were to happen.
That brings Monday's Confession to a close... besides the obvious of being ass fucking tired again.
I'm not really sure how I dreamed at all last night considering I barely slept at all due to some Mariachi band playing right next door till midnight and the guy upstairs from us "dancing" on his bed all night long... nevertheless, I had some crazy dream last night that involved my narcissistic sister of all people.
We were in Texas of all places and we were in some hospital or some prison or something. My sister was some guard and instead of being her sister I was her daughter (she's 7 years older in real life). Lines of people - females - were walking like robots in every direction. There was this little Asian girl who looked to be about 10 or so, whose eyes were decorated with heavy black eye makeup. She had this smile on her face and she was the only one smiling and it was because one of the guards - a man, the only man - said that she was pretty.
Another older girl walked by soon after and she said the guard told her she was pretty too and she, too, was smiling and had dark eye makeup on. I told them both they looked the same and that's why the guard liked them. I knew he wouldn't like me because I looked nothing like them.
Someone said that I was the pretty daughter of my sister and the male guard overheard and came to me and told me that it was OK because I was my sister's daughter - never mentioning that I was pretty.
This allowed us to get the help we needed from a hospital far away in southern Texas. So we loaded up my car (the same one I drive in real life) and headed out toward Southern Texas.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
I've been having very memorable dreams again - sort of like I did when I was pregnant.
Last night I dreamed that S and I were no longer together but I ran into him and he wanted to show me something at his place. So I went to his place, which was the upper flat of a two level. The lower level was his mom and she had died. (In reality his parents and brother all live together are alive and kicking.) We went up the stairs and entered the place and it was a mess. I told him that it seems as if nothing had changed.
We walked through the tiny kitchen - which literally held only a fridge and a stove across from it - and into a bedroom with clothes and shit all over the floor. There was a bunch of noise coming from a TV that was left on.
And then there was this baby with big brown eyes and this goofy looking cap. He wasn't walking quite yet. He looked up at me and I was appalled and yelled at S for leaving the baby home all alone all day long while he worked. I picked up the baby and started crying because I knew that once I picked up the baby, I would be suckered back into S's life just so I could take care of the adorable, big-eyed, brown-eyed baby with the goofy cap. I cried as the baby burrowed its head into the nook of my neck and got comfy. There was nothing more I wanted than to hold onto him forever.
The next thing I knew, the baby had grown up and was walking and talking and was an ass of a kid... he then ended up turning into my real life nephew.
Now the dream, all of a sudden, was all about my nephew and the horrible place he was in - both physically and mentally. I dreamed that I confronted him and told him that I had proof (which in real life, I actually do) that he smoked pot in front of his mother. I told him that I couldn't support him anymore because it was clear that he was content with where he was in life - nowhere - and that he had no desire to change anything. He sat there the whole time and just looked at me, saying nothing. I asked him if he would leave if someone could better his life and he said that he absolutely would, that that is what he was waiting for. He wanted me to take him with me so that he could clean up his life.
But I couldn't because it would ruin the relationship I have with S.
I haven't told S about these dreams. I don't think I would want to know if he dreamed that our life had drastically changed and we weren't together... even though by the end of my dream, we were because of the situation with my nephew.
Strangeness. I hate when I dream dreams that stick with me for days... usually I end up experiencing a bit of Deja Vu about the same things later in life.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
About yesterday's post: mission accomplished!
It was a little odd to be honest. It's been almost two months since we've last had sex and only a week and a half since the D&C... I'm guessing that's where the "oddness" came from. While I bled the day of the D&C, I haven't since that day. But I have spotted nearly every day. And while I hadn't spotted much yesterday or this morning, I did immediately following our "love session." (God, I'm such a dork!) And it was a spotting with fucking bits which really disturbs me because I'm guessing it's dried blood from the D&C.
Last night when I got home, I plopped my fat ass in front of the TV. S was stopping over at some family on his way home, so it was just me and Tori and Dean for a couple of hours. I really like the show. It's entertaining and cute and their little Liam seems so fucking happy. I cried watching last night's shows. I cried and cried. Liam was so happy and giddy and Tori and Dean are so madly in love with him and each other! Then there was the episode where Tori gave birth to their new little bundle, Stella. And I cried and cried.
She was so elated over the fact that she was 35 and had a perfect husband, a perfect son, and now a perfect daughter.
I can totally understand her elation. Hopefully I'll have my own little family by 37.
Friday, August 8, 2008
I need to have sex.
That is all.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
...I'm feeling a little off again - not horrible, just a little off my game.
I've noticed that I stopped caring about what I put in my mouth again. Okay, boy can that be misread. By "what I put in my mouth" I'm referring to food. See, when I was pregnant, I was able to eat super healthy - and had no problem doing so. I didn't get to the point where I craved sweets or anything bad. In fact, I very rarely had sweets because I just didn't want it. Instead, I ate really balanced meals and kept everything super healthy and didn't overindulge. It was perfect - and it was something I should have done a long time ago.
But now I'm back to not caring; now I'm back to eating whatever the fuck I want to. Yesterday, for example, I had a McDonald's Sausage Biscuit meal with and iced coffee for breakfast; a BBQ beef sandwich, fries and a regular coke for lunch; and a grilled cheese and potato chips for dinner. WTF is that? That's like what a 10 year old would eat!
My husband's not too thrilled with my need for coffee again. As soon as I got pregnant, I stopped the caffeine just like that... I didn't even suffer from any withdrawal headaches or anything. And now I'm back to getting my morning cup of iced coffee and the only reason I get it is cuz I can.
Yeah so I think my issues with food is why I'm feeling off this morning. So now that I'm owning it, I'm hoping to change it. No, I *will* change it. While I do have an iced coffee right now, my lunch is a ham sandwich on wheat with pretzels and olives that I packed from home. I wanted to lose weight before I got pregnant last time and didn't so here's my chance to do it before the next time I get knocked up.
And speaking of getting knocked up... I cannot wait to have sex again! It's been nearly two months since we've last done the deed and dear lord do I *need* to get laid. Before leaving this morning, I laid on Stephen to give him kissed goodbye (he's still in bed when I leave) and told him how I wanted to do him right then and there; he agreed. But I was fully dressed and had to get going to work... Fucking work.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I told my mom last night about the miscarriage. I asked that she not tell anyone about it, and also that she not reveal to anyone that we're trying to conceive. I barely shed a tear when I told her. In fact, the only tears that started forming was when I started talking about Stephen's amazing support during the process.
I mean, sure, your spouse is supposed to be supportive and caring and nurturing during a traumatic event such as a D&C, but there's something about Stephen that really and truly makes me believe I'm one of the luckiest people alive... and it also makes me realize how wonderful it would be to create a child that would be a piece of him.
Anyway, I guess I'm feeling a little better about everything overall... and it probably didn't hurt to see Bryan Adams in concert last night.
See, Bryan Adams *literally* saved my life over 20 years ago when I was an angry and sad teenager on the verge of ending the angst once and for all. Bryan's Into the Fire album was released around that time and the title song was one that kept me going, making me feel that my angst was something more "normal" and that I could get past it.
I listened to that album and that title song over and over and over again. It was as if he was singing it to me. Shortly after the release of his album, it was announced that he would be coming in concert - July 18, 1987. I had to live through the sadness, the emptiness, the anger until then. And that's exactly what I did.
So it was almost apropos that Bryan Adams would be in concert less than week after my D&C. I've been waiting for this day since May (when I got the tickets) and it was so worth it. While I've learned to be able to deal with my stress in a manner so that suicide doesn't even enter my mind like it did when I was 15 and hated everything, it was still nice seeing Bryan last night... like a tight hug that I was needing.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Yesterday wasn't a great day for me. I was without internet access all weekend so I stupidly came to work yesterday and spent a lot of time online. Too much time. As a result, I got sad and mad and sadder and madder.
I also spotted all day yesterday - enough to have to wear a pad all fucking day. Gross. I hate pads, I hate spotting. Fortunately, I didn't have any cramping like I had over the weekend. So there's a plus.
Today the spotting has pretty much subsided. And still no cramps, thank god.
Today I need to stop reading certain things on the internet. I need to start focusing on my job and other things in my life than my loss.
I really need to get my mind back into a more positive state. I know it takes time.
Speaking of time... one month from tomorrow is my 36th birthday. I think that realization is playing negatively on me, in addition to the loss.
I'll be officially pushing 40. When the fuck did all that happen?
Monday, August 4, 2008
...I'm not over the loss.
...I'm stll upset about this.
...It's OK to be upset because it hasn't even been a week.
...Life goes on everywhere around me.
...My anger really can be attributed to the loss.
...I'm also quite sad, too.
...I really want to be pregnant.
...I have no motherfucking desire to go through another six months of trying.
...My thirty-fucking-sixth birthday next month is playing negatively in my mind.
...This is going to take a lot longer to get over than I thought.
I keep neglecting to talk about my anger:
I'm very angry these days. I find that my fuse is shorter than ever before.
And that saddens me.
I don't like feeling full of anger. It's not healthy.
I'm sure it's just a phase I need to go through... but it's tiring.
Being angry takes too much work.
I really need to let go of it.
I'm still occasionally cramping and I still have "bits" coming out when I wipe. I haven't bled since the day of the surgery though. The cramping - when it happens - gets really bad though. I hate it because it's a reminder of what happened because it's a cramping that's more severe than period cramping.
The doctor told us to hold off on sex for a week following the surgery. Frankly I can't wait. We haven't had sex since we conceived (while we both enjoy each other's company, we just don't have that much sex - and the last thing I wanted when I was pregnant was for him to touch me) which was almost two months ago! Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the end of the week and am really hoping the cramping and the "bits" subside by then.
Whether or not we'll conceive right away is something we're not getting too worked up about. I'm done with the temping and tracking of cervical mucous. I'll just listen to my body like I did when we conceived and hope for the best. Everything happens for a reason so I have to believe I'll get pregnant again soon. And I have to believe baby will stick this time around.
I still miss my baby.
I see pregnant women around everywhere these days. And babies. Everywhere I turn.
I'm sure our day will come again.
Friday, August 1, 2008
...holding my lower belly while taking a nap.
...talking to my baby when driving home.
...thinking about how wonderful a dad S would make.
...my clothes getting tight.
...my boobs hurting so badly that I couldn't take off my bra. Ever.
...making sure I drank extra milk.
Other than bleeding following the D&C, I haven't had any blood. Nothing yesterday, nothing today.
I have, however, had some incredible cramps. Odd cramps. Painful cramps. But nothing constant - they come in waves... some strong waves that brought tears to my eyes and a queasiness to my belly yesterday.
Apparently that's why the doc prescribed some pain meds.
This morning, on the other hand, I'm not feeling crampy but I am having some odd discharge which is weirding me out a bit. It's not blood, it's not cervical mucous - I don't think. It's like little bits of something. It's fucking gross and it's making me wonder if it's part of something.
Other than physical stuff going on, I'm feeling pretty good. I really think last week prepared me for the Wednesday's "event."
A part of me really feels bad for not feeling worse about what happened, but what else can I do about all of this?
I was pregnant - and for that I'm incredibly grateful. It means that everything worked for us and I know it also means it will work again for us.
Hopefully sooner than later.
I used to be freaked out about my age - I'll be 36 next month! But again, what the fuck can I do about that? Nothing.
There's things in my life that are completely out of my control at this point, and that means I need to work on letting those things go and focus on what I can change, what I do have some control over.
That being said, it's time to get positive again... time to start *believing* again.