Clearing My Head

REMEMBERANCE

2009-10-15T14:15:00.003-05:00

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

Moving on after Miscarriage

2009-09-02T10:06:00.003-05:00

Apparently the Today Show did a segment on miscarriage earlier: http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/26184891#32655563

It was a great piece, I thought.
It brought tears to my eyes, of course.

It just steams me that so many of us go through this and it's all hush-hush.

I was particularly pleased that they touched on Early loss and that it's still devastating nonetheless!
I want to broadcast this 24/7.

People need to wake up out there and be more empathetic. Miscarriage is NOT a secret club. Nobody wants to join it, but it happens. Every day, unfortunately. Show some support!!

The longest while.

2009-08-24T12:26:00.003-05:00

I can't believe I've neglected this blog for so long. I mean, I can, but I can't. I suck sometimes is what it boils down to... sort of.

I'm finally going to spill the beans here. It's been a long time coming but I have my reasons. And actually, when it comes down to the grand scheme of things, it hasn't been *that* long.

So.. Here Goes: I'm Pregnant. 21 weeks, 2 days pregnant. Almost five months pregnant. Me. PREGNANT!!

Now here's the thing: I'm beyond excited, elated, whatever. But it has not been an easy time getting to this point. In fact, it wasn't until my last appointment, nearly two weeks ago, that I started to feel really excited about this.

It's been HARD for me to grasp. Not that I'm pregnant, but that there really and truly is a baby growing inside of me and s/he really and truly is OK and that s/he really and truly is going to be born unto us... it's just been a hard road travelled is all.

And yes, I most certainly blame it on last year's miscarriage... Without ANY hesitation whatsoever... Unfortunately.

Things were so iffy with my emotions, or lack of, that my wonderful husband (and I do mean Wonderful because he's been absolutely beyond amazing and loving and supporting and adorable and wonderful with this pregnancy) actually asked if maybe I should go speak with a professional about it. There were comments like, "I hope you get excited about this soon."

:(

I realized through some tough moments that my lack of excitement and energy toward this pregnancy, this baby, was not only a result of the miscarriage from last year but also because of the fact that that pregnancy and that loss basically stole any innocence I had when it came to conceiving or trying to conceive a child of our own. I just couldn't get excited because I knew what could very well happen.

I mean, sure there are statistics and every newly pregnant woman thinks about miscarriage at some point during their pregnancy, but having been there, I can honestly say that it truly is different once it's happened. It's one thing to think about it, but it's a whole other ballgame to be able to remember and re-live moments ... it's just not easy for our brains to grasp. And then there's the fear of becoming too attached (again) only for it to be ripped away (again).

It killed me inside to know that no matter what I did or tried to do, the excitement for this baby just wasn't there - not like it was last year. Not like it was when I had never experienced being pregnant before. It killed me. I tried so hard not to compare pregnancies and appointments but it was too difficult. And then July 3rd came about and I was reminded how just one year prior I was the happiest person to walk the face of the earth... only for July 29th to hit and remind me that I wanted to wither away to nothing.

It's truly been a very interesting couple of months to say the least.

And please don't for one moment think that I'm not INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL to be sitting here today writing this while my baby wiggles around inside of me. I couldn't be happier right now... well, yes, I could and I will be when the baby is placed in my arms.

It just took a while for me to get here, is all.

I can't even say how many appointments I've had and I think I've had 5 ultrasounds already, too. I'm not complaining about these appointments because with every one that I... WE... survived, the more excited I became. But it just wasn't easy to get here.

I'd have to say that it was my last appointment, just two weeks ago, that has brought me to this elation stage I'm in currently. I was SO incredibly anxious and worried that something horrible would go wrong with that appointment. It had been four long weeks since the last time I saw my baby - and even longer for my poor husband. But it was so worth it.

On the screen, in black and white, was our baby. Moving. Chilling out. Even hiccuping. Everything was there and seemed to be growing appropriately. It was beautiful. Then when I saw the doctor, he tried listening for the heartbeat (prior appts had been unsuccessful - probably because of my pre-pg fat) and after a minute or so, we heard it. That truly magical sound of our living and growing baby.

We finally get to become parents.

And maybe tomorrow, we'll finally find out the sex.

**********************************************

So there you have it... a tiny reason why I haven't been around too much the past several months. And since this is a blog dealing with loss, I probably won't be posting too much in the future either. At least I hope not (when it comes to loss).

But this all will always remain with me. No matter what tomorrow brings.

A part of who I am now

2009-07-27T09:09:00.006-05:00

As much as I'm trying to move on, to avoid this blog, to avoid thinking about what happened a year ago... I just can't.

I can't forget it, I can't ignore it.

It's a part of who I am now.

And as much as I want that to change... or vanish... or at least subside even a little, I've pretty much come to terms that it never will.

Because it's a part of who I am now.

I'm talking about the miscarriage I suffered one year ago. I'm talking about the best AND worst month of my life - July 2008.

I've had some really good moments this month in this year - most things I haven't touched on yet here at this blog. I've been wanting to share some thoughts here, but I just couldn't. Not yet. Not now. Not until July 30th comes and goes, at least.

Argh.

It's just an odd month for me... and an even harder week.

This was the month when I got pregnant, this was the month my life was taking a change, this was the month when all my hopes and dreams got crushed, too. All in one month in one year of my life.

Like I said, an odd month.

It's just hard not to reflect this time around. Maybe next year will be easier - and hopefully years to follow, too.

But I don't think I can ever forget this month in 2008.

It's just a part of who I am now.

One year ago yesterday, today

2009-07-04T09:00:00.004-05:00

4th of July, 2009

So one year ago yesterday, I got my first ever BFP. I can remember it like it was yesterday... I was SO incredibly happy and excited, and looking back, a little naive, too.

No, actually I don't think naive is the right word. More like innocent. I just didn't think I'd fall into the category of miscarrying.

I told S yesterday that one year ago I got my BFP and he didn't really say much. I sat in silence for several minutes just thinking about the past year and about what could've been and said, "We would've had a 4-month old if it all worked out."

He kept playing his video game.

"Have you ever thought of that?"

"No," he said calmly.

How sad, I thought. I mean, I guess I understand because while he would've been the daddy, he didn't have to suffer the physical ramifications of having a pregnancy end so early... he didn't have to suffer the knife-like cramping for months to follow as a reminder that there was once life forming inside and then was sucked out due to no more growth. I guess I can understand that he can let it go so easily - as can everyone else.

I guess it's just different for the women that have to carry the burden, the pain, the torment of knowing there was once the start of a what could have been an amazing life and then, boom, it's over. All inside of you. It's like it belongs to you and only you... and because the world is so fucking hush-hush about it all, who else is going to carry that pain?! Hell, who else is even going to empathize with you?!?

Uck.
... ... ...

One year ago today, we were so excited and so giddy and so ... everything. We went to Walgreens one year ago today, to pick up some random stuff for the weekend, including a digital test. I would wait until tomorrow (did I mention I remember this like it was yesterday) to take the digital test with the first morning's urine. At like 4 or 5AM I'd get up (tomorrow - a year ago) and pee in a cup and go back to sleep... only there was no sleeping, just tossing and turning with a grin on my face and romantic day dreams of living happily ever after in my head. After an hour or so, I'd get up and go back in the bathroom, unwrap the digital test, dip it in the pee for 15 excrutiatingly long seconds, cap the pee end, place it on the edge of the tub and wait. I'd close my eyes and continue my romantic day dreams, telling myself not to peek. And then, after what seemed like an hour but was really only a couple minutes, I opened my eyes, told myself not to get upset if it wasn't positive like the Dollar Store tests were two days prior, and glanced down at the digital test whilst holding my breath.

PREGNANT it read.

PREGNANT.

I remember looking into the mirror after reading PREGNANT for a third time, smiling, and then crying. I was finally going to become a mom.
... ... ...

No point in reliving the entire moment. That's enough for now. You can read all about it by clicking on the link at the beginning of this post if that's something you want to do. I'm done reliving it. It's really time for me to let this all go... I really need to move on.

I won't ever forget this happened. I won't ever forget that I became close to becoming a mom in 2009, but... I just need to move forward. It's beyond time.

I love you, my angel.
xoxoxo

I'm an Auntie. Again.

2009-06-26T08:13:00.002-05:00

What's that old saying? Always a bridesmaid, never a bride? Does the same apply to Aunt-hood? Always an auntie, never a mom?

I have to say NO.

Anyway, here's my latest nephew born at the very end of Father's Day.

If you don't know the family, you'd think, What a great day for a child to be born. The only problem with this is that the father of this child has another son, 17, who he hasn't seen or spoken with or checked in on in years. But that's not this new baby's fault. It's just... unfortunate that things work out the way they do sometimes. Unfortunate and very unfair if you ask me.

Welcome to the world, smallest nephew of mine!

9 years

2009-06-17T09:59:00.002-05:00

That's not how long it's been since I've written, it's how long S and I have been together. Wow, huh? We met online in April of 2000. I placed an online personals ad and he replied. I fell in love with his wit and his eye to actually writing properly... true story! :) We met in person on June 17th and the rest, as they say, is history.

While we didn't get married until seven years later, we've always been each other's Ein und Alles (one and only). No doubts ever about that.

I never thought it was going to be possible to find someone that I would truly mesh with, but I did. I'm incredibly blessed for that. Incredibly. I come from a family plagued by divorce so marriage was something I didn't want to blindly go into. Hell that's why I'm still not a mom... as badly as I wanted to become one, I just couldn't go and get knocked up just to have one no matter how much I may have wanted to.

So yeah, there you have it. Just another reason why I really am ready for this motherhood thing... 9 years with the same man and we're both still alive! That's saying something if you ask me. ;)

But first, it's time to become an Auntie yet again. Any day now my 4th nephew should be joining us. Then after that, in early September, I will be becoming a Great Aunt for the second time to a great-nephew. Boys, boys, boys everywhere! Even a girlfriend is k/u with a boy. Where are all the girls??

quick update

2009-05-30T08:11:00.002-05:00

We're heading over to my darling grandmother's today to celebrate her 85th birthday. I love this woman with my entire heart and entire being. I ache when I think of losing her but I know that nobody is immortal.

If things would've panned out the way they were supposed to, we'd be bringing our almost 3-month old baby along. Is it morbid that I think like that? Maybe so but it's what I feel. And that makes me sad because I NEED a picture of my grandmother with my child. This HAS to happen. I'm not naive enough to believe that my child will get to know my grandmother because, well, there is no child and my grandmother is 85. But a picture?? If I could just get a picture of them, then I can keep her alive in stories... Ack, and now I'm crying. So stupid!

Anyway, tomorrow S and I leave for a mini vacation. We're only driving a couple hours north and staying there for a couple days before coming home on Wednesday. Our 2 year wedding anniversary is Monday so we're going to celebrate that... I wonder if we'd still be going if we had an almost 3 month old on our hands. Probably. Our life will be even more enriched, after all, once we have a little family. That's what I believe, at least.

2009-05-19T08:13:00.006-05:00

I'm doing it. I'm taking a break from here and blogging [removed] instead. This blog will remain public, but the other one is not... [removed]

Peace.

Disgusting

2009-05-13T18:15:00.003-05:00

One of the main reasons I know that I'm ready to be a mom is because of my nephews and nieces, but specifically because of my one nephew, Joey.

Joey just turned 17 on May 1st.

When he was 4 his parents (my brother is his father) got divorced. Joey cried when his mom left the house but mainly because she and his big sister were crying. My brother threw everything he had into Joey and his big sister. Everything. After a couple months passed, the siblings were spending a weekend with their mom and Joey came home but his big sister stayed with the mom. Joey was barely 5 then and he couldn't understand why he couldn't be with his sister and his mom. He cried and cried on more than one occasion over this. It was rather... disgusting, to be blunt.

Anyway, I moved in with my brother to help take care of Joey and his big sister until his big sister left. Then I just helped take care of Joey. And it was my absolute honor to be a part of his everyday life.

I was there for so many of his firsts, even teaching him a couple of his firsts... like tying his shoes and helping him read. It was an absolute joy.

But after about four years, I had to make the leap onto my own in the hopes that I could find someone to settle down with and hopefully start a family of my own. I wanted "a Joey" who would rely on me to nurture, love, teach him while he called me Mom instead of Auntie. I felt that I had so much love inside that I needed to share and I wanted to share it with a child.

Soooooo Joey just turned 17, like I said, and while we don't have every day contact like we did until about a year after I moved out, I still (and always will) hold a very dear piece of my heart for him and I like to think that I've done my job (and still continue to as well) as far as letting him know that I unconditionally love him, that I am always here for him, that I want nothing but the best for him, that I believe that he can do anything he put his mind to, that I know that he is a good human being and can make a positive impact in this world.

That said, I was quite distraught when I received a text message from him yesterday telling me that neither his "douche bag father" nor his grandfather had the "courtesy" to even send him a birthday card. Aside from me, he heard from not one person from this side of the family and he's very upset and hurt.

I know he texted me because he probably would've cried if he called me.

And my heart broke when I read the text and my blood started to boil and I started to cry.

See, Joey hit his adolescent years and started to rebel against his strict father - so much so that his father allowed Joey to move in with his mom... the first time since he was 4. That was just before Joey turned 13, about 4 years ago. And since then, my brother/Joey's father basically shut Joey out. He went from living and breathing for the boy to absolutely having nothing to do with him because Joey was rebelling and wouldn't listen and was getting in trouble. The horror!

Well, now my brother is expecting another child in just a month or so... another boy.

Isn't that awesome? Isn't it great that he gets to have another child when the first one he had sits thinking his father wants nothing to do with him because he can't even acknowledge him on his birthday?

Yeah, right!

It absolutely repulses me the way some people are granted the gift of a child and what they do with that gift, while others would do anything for that gift and treat it as such - a gift from God.

Disgusting.

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T09:47:00.002-05:00

Here it is - May 10, 2009 - Mother's Day.

Today is the day when most people will spend at least a portion of the day thinking of Mom. Some who still have Mom around may even pick up the phone and call her, while others who live nearby may even spend some time with Mom today. I'm sure restaurants will be quite busy today - breakfast, lunch, brunch, and dinner. And I'm sure there will be a Mom at nearly every table.

Today is the day when flower shops make a killing. Spring is in the air and it's Mother's Day. What better way to let Mom know you're thinking of her than to send or bring her some pretty flowers?

And then there's the cards... the aisle of cards made especially for today, Mother's Day.

I love my Mom but it's taken me a while to get to the place where I can accept her for who she is now and not who she was back when I really needed her the most, back when her role of Mom was extremely important. That said, I've never been a huge fan of Mother's Day. I didn't feel that my Mom really deserved a special day just for her. But I always honored her on this day regardless because, well, she did give birth to me and she is my Mom.

Anyway, I told my darling husband that I really needed him to acknowledge me this Mother's Day. I am a mother to a baby in heaven after all! I know most of the world doesn't see it that way - because I lost baby so early on in my pregnancy. But I don't care about most of the world and what they think.

In the 22 years that I've been an aunt, I've only received ONE Mother's Day card directed to "Aunt". ONE. It's a shame, really... the way women who've done everything a Mom does except birth a child can be disregarded on a day like today. It's sad, really. It doesn't take much to say three little words to someone, after all.

"Happy Mother's Day"

So whether you birthed a child or just nurtured a child; whether you were pregnant and suffered an early loss or lost late in the pregnancy; whether you're a pet owner or a babysitter...

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Stinkin' Cute!

2009-05-04T10:23:00.005-05:00

I finished a couple projects I've been working on and thought why not document here?

Behold the baby blanket for my nephew coming early July...

It turned out OK. There's no holes like the first one I made, but I screwed up on one end... like my mom said, though, Nobody but God is perfect. So I'm sending it soon to where my nephew to be will be born.

And then there's my favorite project since taking up knitting... baby leg warmies!

Oh my are these stinkin' cute and stinkin' easy! I did a pair in one weekend and now that I know how to do them, I don't think it should take more than a day to do... I'm not sure what I'll be doing with these shown as they are yellow and I don't see my nephew or great-nephew sporting these so I'll have to save for my phantom baby - or maybe till someone has a girl.

I'm thinking of making these in "team sport colors" in the hopes that some of the moms to the boys will put them on their little ones little legs... I know I would! Soooo stinkin' cute!

Update take II

2009-04-28T07:54:00.002-05:00

I guess I changed my mind - yet again.

Rather than make this blog private (at this time), I think I'm just going to take a break for a bit.

I'm OK (so no worries!), just ... tired.

Cheerio until next time, yo.

A BLOG-related decision

2009-04-24T15:35:00.004-05:00

I'm a pretty private person and that's mainly because I have major trust issues. Most people that know me, know this. That said, when it came to this blog, I didn't want it to be private. This is the second blog that's completely me... but really, it's just an extension of the first blog - the BFP blog. Anyway, in the past, I've always blogged my thoughts and whatnot, but I changed names and locations and never revealed *anything* that could be related back to it belonging to me... I'm not aiming to hurt anyone after all. My purpose when blogging is therapeutic.

Enough rambling though.

My point to this post is to let you, the reader (like all three of you), know that I'm going private.

I thought of going private about a month ago when a buttload of internet peeps and myself got into a tiff, but decided against it because ... well, because this is my blog and there's information here, particularly about dealing with miscarriage and loss and grieving, that I *want* to share with people who need a glimpse into something like that.

But I think I'm done with all that.

It was cool while it lasted, but I'm done. I can either create a brand new blog and make that one private or falsify like others in the past or I could make this one private. I'm not starting over so I'm choosing the latter.

If you want to continue to read, please just subscribe by following the directions provided by blogger once I make the change. If you're just a nosey lurker, fuck you.

Cheerio.

2009-04-23T08:07:00.002-05:00

I had a bit of a breakdown yesterday again. I had a killer headache all day and stopped to get something to drown my sorrows into -- a huge bag of Jays BBQ chips and chocolate chip cookies. After gorging on the chips - the entire bloody bag - I took a nap (turns out I didn't have everything I needed to make the cookies).

While I drifted off it dawned on me that I need help. If I was a drinker, I probably would've gotten drunk last night. If I was a pot smoker, I probably would've gotten stoned. Instead I just eat. And eat and eat and eat.

It's no wonder I'm obese.

It's nights like last night when I realize that I'm very slowly killing myself with the toxic foods I gorge on at times.

How sick is that? Really, how fucking sick is that?

There are people in much worse shape than me in this world. People with much graver lives and problems than mine... and here I am eating myself to death.

::shakes head::

I told S that maybe I need to go see an infertility therapist or something. He said, "can't we just have more sex?"

I need him to come to terms that there is a possibility that this is not going to happen for us. I really need him to acknowledge that - and I told him this last night. But he won't give in to that. Instead, he insists that he needs me not to give up hope.

::takes deep breath in::

And that's when I spilled the beans on what's been bothering me the most lately: Fear. I'm terrified of getting my hopes up again only to be crushed again like I was last July.

"Remember how positive I was last July?" I cried to S. "I had no doubts about that pregnancy and then he took it all away from me."

I cried and cried.

"I don't think I can live through that again," I whispered.

"But you can't give up all hope," he told me. And I know he's right. And I haven't given up ALL hope. But I'm a little more realistic this time around because... well... there's a reason I still haven't gotten pregnant, I believe.

Sigh.

I've been doing some research and I think my luteal phase is too short. Prior to getting pregnant it was 10 days which is right at the cusp of being long enough and not long enough. Lately, it seems it's been about 8 days. If that's the case, if the problem is that my LP is too short, I think it's fixable.

See, I still have *some* hope that I can be fixed.

I'm not a doctor though... but I'm planning to call one this afternoon.

I hate this shit. I just really hate this fucking shit.

2009-04-21T07:46:00.003-05:00

I had a significant temperature drop read on the ole basal thermometer this morning. I guess AF will be arriving at any moment. I guess that explains the horrid irritability lately. And the cramps and sore boobs and ridiculous gorging. I mean, why would any of those symptoms be equal to being pregnant? It's me, after all.

Another cycle down the drain.

I guess I'll be calling the doctor in the next day or two and asking for an appointment to discuss our next step. I cannot continue on like this until a year past the m/c date (end of July). I just can't keep playing the mind/heart/body games.

S said he'll go with me to the appointment.

I'm not going to lie and pretend like this all makes me happy. Obviously it doesn't. I mean, sure a part of me just wants to know something, just wants to have some sort of reason for the madness... but a bigger part of me is terrified to hear that it's the worst case scenario, that the one brief pregnancy I experienced was a fluke and it will never happen again.

Because then what? After this appointment, after the blood and semen and whatnot is tested, then what?

This just was not supposed to happen like this. I mean, I don't really know why I'm so fucking surprised that, once again, nothing in my life comes easy... yet I am. I know that should that day come when I get to be called Momma... this will ALL be worth it. I know that.

But what if that day never happens?

I do still have hope, I really really do... I just... UGH!!!!!

The next step

2009-04-19T12:36:00.003-05:00

I've had several ... breakdowns lately. For the most part, I'm dealing but every so often, I just kind of lose it.

S and I have talked and we've come to a decision: If this cycle doesn't leave me with a BFP, I'm calling the doctor and scheduling an appointment for the "next step" in all of this.

Sigh.

I'm just too old and too tired to continue on with this month to month bullshit of trying to get pregnant when everyone else around me gets pregnant and pops out babies at the drop of a hat.

I hate who I've become since the miscarriage. I really and truly hate it. I'm too bitter, too sad, too angry. And it's not fair to anyone, especially myself. I deserve more than this. My husband deserves more than this. My family and friends do, too.

Blech

2009-04-13T09:20:00.001-05:00

So yesterday.

I couldn’t stop crying after I got finished typing yesterday’s post. I just couldn’t stop. My dad called right in the middle of it and, thankfully, didn’t notice how stuffed up I sounded. Then S woke up and went to the bathroom and when he came out, I went up to him to say good morning and he just looked at me and my puffy eyes and I sunk into his embrace.

I really REALLY thought I was moving forward. And I told him this, too.

We hugged for several minutes and it was time for me to start making Easter lunch for us and my dad.

The crying, the thinking stopped… for a little bit, at least.

My dad ended up staying for several hours. It was a very nice visit. We talked about what his next step is in regards to whether or not he’ll be renewing his current lease another year or moving into a retirement community. It’s a part of life, I guess. And at 76 and alone, my dad is in the place in his life when he needs to start thinking about all of this – apparently. And because I’m his only child living nearby, I’m the one that has to be part of this decision.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this though.

S and I should’ve already had a child by now and we should’ve been in a house of our own and we should be asking my dad to move in with us instead of a fucking retirement community. That’s the way this was supposed to go down.

But nothing has worked out as planned. Nothing.

And while I know these must be trying times for my dad, I can’t help but wonder what happens to the folks who never have children and therefore never have grandchildren or great grandchildren. How are the later years of their lives spent?

Blech.

Anyway, after lunch and time with my dad, he left to visit his sister in law and her kids and grandkids while S and I headed over to my grandmother’s house where we just missed my sister and her youngest along with their grandchild. While I would’ve enjoyed seeing them all, a part of me was glad that I didn’t have to see a little one at all yesterday. Yeah, I’m a sick fuck sometimes.

During our visit with them, there were many conversations that revolved around children. A couple times S could be hear starting a sentence with, “My kids…” I smiled but inside thought, What if we don’t have children?

Blech.

On our way home, his mom called and kept us company for the remainder of the trip home. S has a car where the phone is hooked up into the speakers of the car so that he’s completely hands-free. In other words I heard the entire conversation and several times, his mom referred to S as her “baby.”

It was quite endearing and really tugged at my heart and now recalling of this brings on the tears that won’t stop.

Blech.

I'm just so, so, so tired.

Easter Sunday

2009-04-12T10:33:00.004-05:00

With every passing holiday, I realize how much older I'm getting. Not sure if that makes sense really, but I seem to get kind of down on holidays and as pathetic as it sounds, I think it's because I'm still childless.

At least when I was living with my brother and helping him take care of his son, I had the innocence of a child to occupy my time and thoughts and energy... especially on holidays.

I used to love getting ready for holidays. For Easter, in particular, I'd go out and stock up on a couple of the kid's favorite candies and get him something cool like a new movie or something, too. I'd find a cool "basket" to hold it all and then I'd leave it out on the kitchen table or just outside his door the night before Easter after he'd go to bed. And then Easter morning we'd all wake up early and have French toast for breakfast while the booger went through all his candy and toys. And then his mom would come pick him up for the day and my brother and I would go over to my grandmother's house or spend the day with my dad.

It's been 10 years since I've done any of that. Ten years.

And that saddens me.

A lot.

I just don't find much excitement on these type of days. I mean, I realize that holidays have much deeper meanings and whatnot, but that aside, it's usually a day when family comes together (in my family at least) and it's usually a day when the kids get to shine.

And it's just hard that my kids don't get to shine because I don't have any kids.

Crap.

I'm sitting here typing this out and crying. So much so that I can hardly see the screen.

I really thought things were going OK for me and this whole not-yet-getting-to-experience-being-a-mom thing. But I guess I was wrong.

Shhh I have a secret

2009-04-10T18:45:00.002-05:00

NO I'M NOT PREGNANT.

But I'm starting to cook more in the new kitchen. Check it out HERE.

Ask, Believe, Receive?

2009-04-08T09:34:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I talked about needing a vacation, but also needing money to start planning said vacation.

Last night, S checked his email and found one sitting there from the tax accountant. He's ready to e-file our taxes and needs us to sign the paperwork. We're getting a return. A pretty damn good one, too.

Vacation (even if it's just a long weekend away), here we come!

Some way. Some how.

2009-04-07T09:54:00.004-05:00

So we’re all moved in and pretty much unpacked. There are still a couple of boxes in the office and some right outside of our bedroom door, but those are all S’s shit that I just don’t know what to do with. I’ve done all that I can while he’s been coughing up a lung one weekend and with a fever the next.

Now we’re ready for entertaining and I have to say I’m really looking forward to having people over again. It’s been years and I miss it. I get tired of always having to go out to everyone else’s place. So Easter will be our first time in several years – since before we got married – that we have someone over...My dad.

It’s a start, right?

I’m making lunch: Schnitzel, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, Anise (fennel) salad.

Unfortunately we’ll be eating on a folding card table because we haven’t yet found and purchased a dining set we like. We also need a table of sorts to place next to the couch by the entry way and hallway. It’s too bare. And while I like to keep things simple and clean, a small table would be perfect to place keys and mail on when we come home.

Other than the apartment stuff that’s all I got.

I took my temp this morning – begrudgingly. I’m just not feeling the whole TTC thing. Of course I still ache for a family, but what the fuck more can I do about it?!

My skin has been looking great these days. I’m not sure what that’s all about since I was certain I had some skin disease or infection the other month.

My cycles have been 27 days on the dot the past couple. I’m not sure what that’s all about since I had that 45+ one the other month.

I don’t know. I’m super tired of so much lately. Super tired.

I think I need to start planning a vacation or something. But that entails having money. Or at least a private jet or something.

Sigh.

Some way, some how… right?

Oh, and before I forget! I came across an amazing description of the... agony ... behind infertility and pregnancy loss. I encourage anyone to read THIS but it will tug at your soul.

More control?

2009-04-02T10:25:00.004-05:00

After 10 months of grieving, I finally feel like I have control of my emotions again. And truthfully, that kind of scares me because now I'm wondering if a part of me hasn't just "accepted" that I just may never get pregnant again... that I just may never become the mom I dream of becoming.

I get sad when I think of that - never becoming a mom. I do. In fact, I sit here and type this with tears in my eyes and a heavy feeling inside. Yet, I'm also "OK" with this and it's mainly because I just don't have a choice to not be OK with it.

I'm going to be 37 this year. Yes, I know it's just a number. Yes, I know there are many women who have children well into their 40s. But I'm also obese and have high blood pressure.

And I quit coloring my hair again. ;)

Seriously, time really is not on my side and I fully understand and accept it because I just don't have another option when it comes to my age and having babies.

Sigh.

While the OPK's didn't detect ovulation last cycle, the thermometer did. So that is a huge relief to me because at least I *am* still ovulating - something I wasn't very sure I was doing since the surgery. I think the plan for this cycle is to temp and FWAP and pray... Pray, pray, pray that this will be our cycle and that we can welcome a baby in the new year.

If I detect ovulation this cycle and if I don't manage to get k/u, I think I'm going back to the doctor. I just cannot continue going on like this until end of July - one year since the surgery. Because even if I do go back and they start testing everything, who knows how long we have to wait after that for some answers.

Blech.

S is totally on my side with this - as he should be. I think he's getting a little "tired" of the wait, too. He's getting more and more questions from his mom, from friends about when we're having kids and I think it's finally starting to wear on him, too.

A part of me wants to shout it out that YES! We ARE trying, we WERE pregnant but lost it, we WANT to become parents... but... ugh. I don't want the pity, I don't want more questions.

I just want to be a mom.

2009-03-30T15:28:00.001-05:00

Today can be summed up in one tiny, but painful word:

CRAMPS

I haz dem.

What it is

2009-03-28T11:54:00.004-05:00

Last night I told S that I was either pregnant or was going to be getting my period soon. Duh, right?

This morning I woke up, went pee, wiped and... onward we go to cycle 16.

Cycle 16.

Head, Desk, Pound.

I'm not surprised by this cycle at all so while I find this image quite amusing and appropriate, I've certainly felt much worse in the past.

It is what it is at this point. It is what it is.

My husband

2009-03-27T07:02:00.004-05:00

He's had this awful cough now for about a week. He's tried three different cough medicines, an allergy med, and even some inhaler thing -- all over the counter, almost all recommended by a pharmacist. He went to a Minute Clinic last weekend as well and they wouldn't prescribe him anything.

Yet he keeps fucking coughing and at completely inopportune times. I love him but he's driving me fucking nuts.

Tonight, he didn't come to bed until 3AM. Not because he was coughing, but because we finally got internet access. Then when he finally crawls his ass into bed, what happens? TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF NON STOP COUGHING AND MOANING AND BODY JERKING.

Finally after I threatened to leave the room once again (had to sleep on the couch the other night, too), he asked if I could start the shower for him as it helped him the other night (you know, when I "slept" on the couch).

I don't understand it. Why the fuck wait nearly three hours before giving in and taking a shower which allowed you to sleep afterward last time?!? WTF is the purpose?

Yeah so now, 4 hours after the whole bullshit coughing fit began, he's sound fucking asleep -- no coughing whatsoever -- and I'm in here on the fucking computer, scratching my eyes because I'm so fucking tired.

He had BETTER get his ass up and to work today because I cannot handle another day of this bullshit.

"My mother would say that I have an aversion to work," he's commented more than once this past week. Um, considering the fucking apartment is littered with boxes STILL -- after you've been off work for one fully week, I'm starting to see why she would say such a thing.

Yay for spending the rest of my life with a child who's really a grown ass man.

Super quick update

2009-03-24T10:09:00.002-05:00

Well, we moved... and we will never move without movers again. I'm pretty certain if it weren't for the movers, we'd still be moving right now. As it is, there's still so much to be done before the boxes are all cleared and we're completely settled, but that's all trivial, really.

We love the new place. It truly is incredibly perfect - for us. Odd how perfect it is, really.

I'm at work today but S isn't. He came down with some horrid bronchial thing that really put him out of commission and basically made him pretty useless. Again, praise the Lord for movers.

We still don't have cable, internet, gas, dishwasher, washer/dryer. The phone just got hooked up late yesterday. Baby steps, I guess.

And speaking of babies, a friend had one on Sunday. She wasn't due for a couple more weeks so when I got the text message TWENTY MINUTES after the little bugger was born, I was totally shocked. And happy. And I just couldn't help but smile the rest of the day.

Seems like I'm finally getting better with the news of babies being born... like I'm finally able to get past the ugly jealousy (or whatever that is) that would fill up my heart and gut. Of course it probably doesn't hurt that I've had this whole moving business to occupy my every waking hour for the past 100 hours or so. And no internet access. :) ;) :P

We have Liftoff!

2009-03-20T06:48:00.005-05:00

Or do we?

Today = CD18. My temps since the last day of my last period have been 97.18, 97.35, 96.96, 97.12, 97.32, 97.66, 97.35, 96.85, 97.05, 97.17, 97.15 and then today's is 97.87!

But! The damn digital OPK will only give me an O reading and not a :) .

Sigh.

This is so ridiculously frustrating.

Whatever.

Fortunately I've had other things to focus on instead of just the gdamn TTC bullshit. Like the moving thing. We get the keys in just a couple hours, but found out yesterday that A) the gas won't be turned on until Monday so there will be no heat, no hot water (and that leaves me thinking back on some days after my parents split - yay); B) the washer/dryer and dishwasher won't be installed until later next week (which sucks ass because we have mountains of clothes to wash).

It certainly could be worse, that's for sure.

So today we're taking out some garbage since this morning was garbage day and the bins are finally empty again (one of the best things about moving is the purging - ahhhh!); then we're heading over to the new place to meet the realtor to get the keys to the place; then we'll measure the windows; head over to Home Depot to get a rug for the living room and one for the dining room, rods for the drapes, maybe some blinds; come back here to the apartment and grab some simple, light items to load into the car; grab more garbage to fill the bins as a thank you/parting gift to our frat partying neighbors; then plan on going back to the new place to unload some stuff and hopefully hang up some window treatments.

That's the plan, at least. Ha.

Tomorrow the movers are set to come at 12:30 but evidentally we were told to be ready as early as 8:30. Fun times.

In review of this, it's probably a good thing I didn't have a :) read on that OPK as I'm not sure when we can fit in Sexy time today or tomorrow. :/

?!?&%>?!K

2009-03-14T19:16:00.001-05:00

I abhor packing and cleaning to move.

Thank god we hired movers to come next weekend.

That is all.

About last night

2009-03-13T15:50:00.003-05:00

I think I had a bit of a nervous breakdown last night after I learned my Oma had been in a car accident... I was so caught off guard (possibly because I learned the day after it happened and via email), that I just couldn't get it out of my thoughts and I almost immediately started to cry.

And once I started to cry, I couldn't stop.

I cried and cried and cried. I cried so much I couldn't breathe.

I was going to call S but I knew he was in the car and didn't want him to be concerned because I wouldn't have been able to speak through the tears anyway. When he came home, he called me to move the car and upon saying "Hello?" immediately asked me what was wrong.

I whaled and he hung up the cell phone and immediately came up the stairs and asked me what was wrong, opened his arms and I just latched on and cried.

I just couldn't stop crying as I couldn't get the thought of losing Oma out of my head. Not last night, not today, not tomorrow.

I can't lose her. I know it's incredibly selfish, but I just cannot lose her.

Today is another day. And while I'm still quite upset about this, I realize that my ... breakdown ... was not only a result of being scared about my Oma, and realizing that she is not immortal, but it was a sign that I needed to release my feelings once and for all (yet again)...

Oh dear god will this ever get any fucking easier?!?!?!

Dear Universe

2009-03-12T18:50:00.002-05:00

Thank you for allowing S and I to find a place to live that seems so kick ass. It took us a little while, but I do think it was worth the hunt.

Thank you for that.

Thank you for giving me that to focus on during this rough month. I really appreciate it.

That said, I need to ask one more huge favor: I need to ask that my Oma be watched over and protected. I just learned she was in a car accident yesterday. Apparently the car is totaled and she is OK. But she's in her mid 80s and ... I simply cannot ... even bear the thought ... of ... something bad happening to her. :(

Please, please, please keep her safe.

My mom says Oma is just shaken up but ... I worry too much. And I love her so much. And I already miss my Ota so so so much. Please, please, please, PLEASE keep her safe. For as long as possible.

Please.

Please.

Thursday

2009-03-12T09:01:00.004-05:00

The past couple of days, today included, have been a bit overwhelming for me. Like a test of sorts.

Or something.

You know how when you're ready and willing to buy a new car and instantly there seems to be a million cars on the road similar to the one you want to buy? And all of a sudden, commercial after commercial appears on the tellie and radio regarding that car? That's how it is when you decide you want to have a baby, too. All of a sudden, there are babies and pregnant mommas everywhere.

Every.Where.

I can honestly say the past year and a half have been like that - babies and baby bumps (and mountains) everywhere. Some days seem to be worse than others, but the past several days have been exceptionally bad.

The other night I met up with some gal pals for dinner. Not only were two (of the 8 total) pregnant, but another was a mom already. And of course, conversation came up more than once regarding pregnancy, regarding being a mom. It's a part of life after all. We sat and ate and chatted and chatted and chatted for several hours and in that time, I lost track of the number of moms and kids that came to eat. And several momma's to be, too.

I don't really know what my point is. It's just ... hard sometimes. And I hate that it's hard sometimes. It shouldn't be so hard to smile when someone talks lovingly about their gifts. It shouldn't be so hard to be happy to hear news that someone else is pregnant, that someone else just became a mom. But it is sometimes.

Yesterday I had a brief meeting with my supervisor regarding goals for the year. Before we started he asked how I was doing and if I was sleeping any better since I've had to call in late or all together on more than one occasion in the past couple months due to insomnia. I told him I was sleeping much better these days and that it seems to go in spurts. And while I talked, I watched the slide show on his computer of his life: him, his wife, his 2 boys, his 1 girl, their dog.

Then he said, "Yeah, once we had kids, I learned how to adapt to little sleep."

Good for you, I wanted to say. Instead, I said, "At least you have an excuse for not sleeping though."

I wanted to cry but held it together just fine.

Ack.

Anyway.

I'm so fortunate that we're moving. I'm so fortunate that we've spent the past month spending all of our free time looking at apartments. I'm so fortunate to have been able to focus on something other than the thing I normally focus on... but now that the place has been chosen and all that's left is to move, I'm left thinking about too many other things again.

And that just sucks big hairy pimply hairy balls sometimes.

March 10

2009-03-10T12:45:00.003-05:00

Today is my due date. Well, it would've been my due date. I'm OK considering. I guess. I'm trying not to think of it, truthfully. Just trying to focus on other things like moving. Yay, can't wait to move! Ok, well, I'm not looking forward to moving per say, but I'm looking forward to living in a brand new place. :)

Something else... I think I have Dermatitis. Sigh. I was diagnosed with rosacea years ago, but now I have this gd itchiness that's invaded my skin just below my eyes. Like the area isn't sensitive enough? Grrr. I'm not happy. It's been so bothersome that the other day I had to toss out a $20 bottle of under eye cream which I loved because I applied it, like normal, and the burning that transpired was insane! I thought the skin was coming off my face or something!

Add that to the months spent with dry, flaky, redness right next to my nose and I'm a hot mess. Ok, maybe not 'hot' so much as itchy and burning!

Grrr.

Anyway, I haven't gone to a dermatologist or whomever yet, but I'm pretty sure Dermatitis is what I have.

And most of the treatments for these .. issues.. entail prescription drugs that are NOT wise to take when TTC, and especially when actually pregnant.

Whatever.

I sure hope I'm not jumping the gun here

2009-03-09T07:39:00.005-05:00

... but we signed a lease yesterday contingent on the building owner completing the remodel and contingent on our credit check being sufficient.

Eeek.

We're so disgustingly excited! :) Over an apartment for crying out loud. I mean, yeah, I can sorta see being giddy over something we bought, but this is something we're just renting... Maybe it's the fact that it's an apartment building converted into brand spanking new condos. Six total and three have been bought before the market took a horrible dive and now the builder decided to just rent out the others. And we were fortunate to be one of the lucky ones to see this!

I've never in my life lived in anything new. And this place is brand new. But it has old bones. And old bones, IMO (when it comes to building structures these days), are much more sound than some new ones. And this place is so damn new, that the one we rented, still needs delivery and installation of all the brand new appliances INCLUDING IN-UNIT WASHER/DRYER!!! Ack, I'm so excited. :)

And the best part of it all - aside for both of us being closer to work (believe me when I say even 20 minutes difference in the summertime in this city makes a WORLD of difference) - is that we're only paying $50 more a month that we currently are for something much more nicer and much more ... Us.

Here's the Living room of the model unit:

See the windows? OMG, so fucking adorable! We're going to put a little table and chairs there under that light fixture and use it as our dining area! :) I cannot WAIT to finally be able to sit down at an actual table and eat my meal as opposed to on the couch!

And here's the model Kitchen:

Our unit is actually opposite of this layout and will come with all black BRAND NEW appliances as opposed to stainless steel.

I'll probably post more pictures in a couple weeks after we get the keys and move in. OMG I'm so happy. :) It's such a great building and a GREAT space.

Now all we have to do is pack up all this shit in the next two weeks. Anyone wanna earn an extra couple of dollars? ;) :D

6:30am

2009-03-06T06:52:00.001-06:00

The bleeding, the cramping is still out of control. I'm not going into work today for fear of another accident. :( If I continue to bleed through tampons today (I have Supers now!), I will call the doctor.

Today marks CD4 of my 14th cycle. I'm exactly six months away from my 37th birthday. I cried last night after I washed my face and saw the lines that have embedded themselves under my eyes. I thought it was a result of lack of sleep but I've been sleeping great the past couple nights and still the lines... Should we blessed to have a child, I have no doubt I will hear, "Go ask your grandma" on more than one occasion. Sigh. It doesn't matter though... so long as we can have a healthy child to parent, to love, to guide, to support, to adore, to kiss, to hug, to play with, to help grow...

To my child in heaven, I love you sweetheart. While we won't be meeting you soon like was planned, not a single day goes by when I don't think about you.

March 5, 2009

2009-03-05T18:25:00.012-06:00

So... yesterday. Ha!

Yesterday, S and I I looked at another apartment that was absolutely perfect. Good location, adorable building, fantastic space. It had "us" written all over it... except it stank like water had been sitting in there for 20 years and there was very little water pressure.

Another one bites the dust. :(

Prior to apartment hunting (we were supposed to see two places but of course the other one was rented an hour before we were to go see it), the shit sort of hit the fan with a group of friends. And by group of friends, I'm not talking a handful of college mates or something; I'm talking 55 women who've gathered from the area and created a private online forum to shoot the shit. Something we've done now for well over a year.

55 women.
Grown women.
From 20s to late 30s.
55 FEMALES.
One year.
Got it?

Anyway...(I'm sure some are checking in here to see if I would post about it. Or not. Whatever, it's coolio) I wasn't going to write about it but writing out my feelings, as most of them should very well know by now, is what I do. Good or bad. Happy or sad... I write.

S told me last night- after I told him a 'shortened' version of the days events - that I have a way of keeping shit in until I explode. Yeah. I kinda do. And that's THE ONLY THING I'm sorry about. Not that anyone cares. Not that it matters.

I dunno. A part of me feels bad that things went down the way they did, but a bigger part of me is relieved. It's just too fucking hard for me to pretend to be OK with someone when I'm not. I mean, it's not that I hate *any* one or anything... (I have little hatred - believe it or not - inside of me. Hate is just not a good emotion to carry around. It will age you and it will break you. Sometimes more than once. I've been broken due to anger, so I do know what I'm talking about.)

Anyway, it's really stupid things really: one person was questioned about something pretty personal and pretty hard to talk about, and, in turn, that opened the door for that person to be talked about behind her back.

THE HORROR, I know!
She got greatly offended, as did her minions. And now sides are asked to be taken.

While I truly can understand why someone would be incredibly hurt by the behind-the-back gossip, isn't that what happens with women? They gossip? And sometimes that gossip turns into nit-picking, utter bullshit? Isn't that what happens? Or am I totally off base here? Maybe I am! I'm not an expert. I've never been "the popular one" a day in my fucking life. And if I was, well, it's news to me!

I could give two fucking shits about what clothing is in, what car I should drive, what neighborhood I live in (as long as the drunks keep their urine and vomit out of my path), whether or not I should color my hair, what trendy fucking restaurant I should frequent, what exotic destination I should tour. And neither should anyone else... especially someone in their 30s for fucks sake! Do what YOU want to do!

Sure it would hurt me and offend me if I found out some people were talking about me behind my back, but it certainly wouldn't surprise me and I would simply disconnect from said people. My god am I grateful I never had to deal with this fucking bullshit in my youth. I guess there really are benefits to being a loner!

I dunno.... I guess I had more to say than I thought because I feel like I'm begging my fingers to stop typing. I mean, what the fuck does any of this have to do with miscarriage and TTC and trying to move past the fact that my due date was supposed to be in five days?!

Grrrr.

But here's the thing: People are hurt. And I truly recognize and I truly, wholeheartedly feel bad about that. I don't take back anything I said - just maybe how it was said and where it was said and definitely what has transpired as a result.

Ugh. It's just... how do you tell someone (out of a huge group of people) you don't trust them when the bottom line is that they aren't really doing anything outright to break your trust? How do you tell them that you find some of their stories to be a bit too dramatic and too far fetched? I mean, who the fuck am I to say that to someone? So you just try to ignore it and them and slowly start to separate yourself from them. At least that's what I try to do.

I'm not out to hurt anyone... just like they aren't.

But it's hard when you can't completely disconnect from them and can't completely ignore it. I get it, I do. That's what I blew up too!

Wow.

Anyway... I said what I said and I think that enabled me to sleep like a baby last night! Oh man, it was so glorious! Granted I was awakened at 1:30 in the morning with killer fucking cramps and had to beg my husband to heat the heating pad and bring me pain meds, but as soon as the heating pad was wrapped around me and the meds started kicking in... off to sleepy-bye I went.

Yet somehow I'm tired again today. And the lines under my eyes?!? Oy vey! Not pretty. My age is finally catching up with me and starting to show... joyous!

I caught up with a shit load of work today and that felt really good, too.

But I had a big problem with my period.

*** TMI ahead TMI ahead TMI ahead ***

I bled like I haven't bled ever. And I know I say this every cycle but this was different. This had me in tears from fear. This had me *this close* to calling the doctor or going to the hospital.

The blood wouldn't stop coming. It was so heavy that when I went to the bathroom an hour after I got into work, two hours after inserting a tampon, the tampon came out as soon as I sat on the pot! I was flipping out. There was blood all over the front of my panties and onto my pants!!!! Thank GOD I was wearing black pants!! OMG the blood wouldn't stop coming. The discharge!! Fuck me! I've never seen anything like it and it made me wonder if I was miscarrying or something! I mean the cramps were atrocious, too, but nothing like that blood. I never ever want to see something like that again.

But I did - an hour later.

:(

Yeah it's been a hellish day for me and dear Aunt Flo. The cunt.

That little thing called Knowledge

2009-03-03T10:49:00.004-06:00

So today we're going to talk about basal thermometers and how they truly do work. They take your exact temperature without rounding, and they're *the* tool to use when trying to track ovulation. Fuck those OPK's. Fuck tracking your CM. Take your temperature around the same waking hour every morning and you will be able to figure out when you ovulate (after the fact, unfortunately) and when/if you're about to get AF or are pregnant.

It really does work!

If you're TTC, buy TCOYF and read it and follow it and practice what's described in that book. And if you do so, you will, possibly for the first time in your life, truly know and understand your body and how it works - as far as ovulating and shit, at least.

I charted my temps for about six straight months and each month I knew when I ovulated and I knew the day before AF came. It never failed. That number always dropped pretty significantly right before AF. Then when I got pregnant, I knew I could believe my eyes and the HPT. I knew it because the next week or so when I woke and stuck that basal thermometer in my mouth and took my temp, the numbers were still high.

It was glorious, really.

But after the d&c, I stopped tracking. I put everything away and submerged myself into a pity party that nobody else was invited to. And every month thereafter, I was left wondering if that was *the* month when I would get pregnant again. And every month I didn't take my temperatures, I was blindsided when AF showed.

All because of a stupid little basal thermometer.

This past cycle was going to be different, though. This past cycle we were moving up to bigger, more expensive things: digital OPK's. And after peeing on 14 expensive sticks and never getting a smiley face, I was left feeling quite deflated.

So I found that trusty, little ol' basal thermometer and took my temperature about three days ago, then the next. And it was high (for me). Maybe I did O super early and maybe, just maybe that temp would remain high for days and weeks to come! A girl can dream, right?

The third day (yesterday) I temped, my temperature dropped pretty significantly (from 98.04 to 97.54) and I knew what was heading into town. So last night when I went pee and saw some spotting, I wasn't surprised one bit. And this morning, when the spotting become a light flow, I wasn't blindsided like I have been the past 6 months. (Though I will admit that I'm a little... peeved... that this past cycle was 27 days long when the one prior was 43 or something?!? WTF, body??! WTF?)

I'm not happy about AF, but I'm also not upset, devastated, shocked, deflated. I'm just...not pregnant.

So the lesson today is that Knowledge truly is Power and every woman wanting to really know their cycle - whether or not you're TTC or TTA - should invest a whopping $10 on a basal thermometer and take their temp every morning before they get out of bed, before they speak.

March 2009

2009-03-02T16:29:00.003-06:00

This should've been the month welcoming our first born into the world. But it won't be happening. Instead, we'll be busy searching for a new place to hang our hat, packing, and moving. Thank GOD we'll at least be busy... if I had jack shit to do this month but think about what should be happening, I'm sure it would be just enough to put me over the edge once and for all.

I can't lie. I'm pretty sad about things again. I'm just so tired of who I've become most days. It saddens me greatly. I was finally in a place in my life where I was living life and loving it. My 30s have been the best years of my life, after all. But then I got pregnant and lost the baby and had to have her surgically removed and my life completely changed.

Now I'm just so bitter. And angry. And sad.

Meanwhile, life around me continues moving forward.

And I'm left wanting to move forward so badly - and just when I think I'm back to being Me and moving forward, I revert back to that bitter woman who can only focus on what she doesn't have.

And that just sucks. And I'm not sure how to change it.

If you build it...

2009-02-28T23:50:00.005-06:00

they will come.

Or something.

Maybe that will be the case for my recent knitting hobby of baby items?!? A girl can hope, no?

So I finished project #1 - The baby blanket!

It looks awful and old and holey (believe me when I say the photo makes it look a hundred times better than reality) but it's complete and it's a blanket for a baby. I'll hold onto it just as a reminder of my first big project (and because I'd be a little embarrassed to give it to someone).

I also completed project #2 - The scarf. But I did that the other week and completed in one full day of knit, knit, purl, purling. It's a gift for my cousin so I call it... the Katrina.

I'm not sure what I should call the baby blanket though. Any ideas?

Do I or don't I?

2009-02-26T12:21:00.002-06:00

That's the burning question.

Grrr.

I'm on CD22 and 12 digital, expensive-as-hell OPK sticks later and still no smiley face! :(

So do I or don't I ... buy more sticks? We're already out $70 this month (they're $40 for seven fucking sticks! but we were lucky to find ONE box on sale).

My boobs hurt so I know AF is coming. I guess I could've O'd early and I'm really just k/u. But it's very doubtful.

I really am not a fan of this TTC bullshit. I just want to make that clear.

Maybe it is my fault: a rambling of thoughts

2009-02-20T12:57:00.006-06:00

When I was a teenager (specifically), I prided myself in being different.

I absolutely hated blending in with everyone else.

I suspect that this attitude was due to the fact that I went to so many different schools and by the third high school I attended in the first two years of my high school education, it didn't matter what I did to try to make friends anyway. People just weren't accepting of a newbie. Not at the schools I attended, at least.

And I know if I tried harder... if I had the right shoes and jeans and haircut... if I had the expensive car, I could've probably managed to fit in more. But I was tired of trying so hard only to get laughed at and talked about. And there was no way I could afford to fit in anyway. Not at the schools I attended.

So rather than try to fit in, I was able to figure out who I was sooner than a lot of other people. As a 36-year-old, I firmly believe this.

I'm not saying I didn't have my gazillion moments of insecurities; but I was basically forced to figure out who I was and accept who I was because if I didn't, nobody else was going to for me and I may as well have just killed myself.

But I couldn't do that. I had some hope (thank you Bryan Adams) and I was an Aunt (by 13) and I took my Aunthood very serious. I refused to let down my kids.

By senior year of high school, I was OK with who I was and the fact that I didn't fit in. I hated the school I was attending and the kids that were in the area. They looked the same, they all liked the same things, ate the same things, went to the same places. It was like living in some sort of really bad television show.

In my 20s, socializing was easier and while I didn't necessarily fit in and match every other 20-something-year old (never went away to school and did the whole sorority thing, never went clubbing, never went on Spring Break, etc), it didn't matter as much. I didn't feel as different in my 20s like I did in my teens, but I also didn't feel like I was being anything other than myself.

Now in my 30s, none of that really matters. At least to me it doesn't. By the time you hit your 30s, I think most people evolve quite a bit, which is probably why many end up married and with families. They have nothing to really prove anymore, they are who they are and they're living life the way they want to.

Or something. Ha.

I don't know what I'm getting at other than for the first time in my life since I was a pre-teen, I've never wanted to feel more "normal".

I want to be the cliche 36-year-old woman who's running ragged trying to keep up with her kids, her house, her job, her husband. I want to have wrinkles invading my face and sleep invading my eyes because I'm exhausted from keeping up with it all. I want to have to get up at the crack ass of dawn to make sure everyone is ready to go: lunches packed, breakfast on the table, kids clean and dressed. I want to go to PTA meetings and help my kids tie their shoes, read and write. I want to have a preteen or early teenager and have to deal with their annoying hormonal attitudes. I just want to be a normal 36-year-old and I hate feeling like I'm 10, if not 15 years behind everyone else.
Did I do this to myself? Did I try so hard to be different when I was younger that it became who I am and always will be?

Ack!

I know a lot of this is my own fault. I didn't start really living life until about 10 years ago. Instead, I waited for things to happen to me instead of making them happen for me. So yeah, I guess I did do this to myself.

Fuck me sideways, my poor kid (won't even put an 's' in parentheses next to 'kid' because I'll be so fucking lucky with one healthy child at this point in my fucking life), should I be blessed to have one, will have a grandmother for a Mom. :(

I really really hate that time moves so fucking fast sometimes.

So am I normal or what?

2009-02-17T18:08:00.005-06:00

Yeah so here's a new article on the Mysteries of Miscarriage: Article.

According to this article, the reason I 'most likely' may have miscarried was because I'm A) fat and B) of advanced maternal age. Because I certainly avoided everything else in that article and have been taking prenatals for almost two years now! But then again, the end of the article also claims that I'm 'normal'.

So which is it? Hmph!

Still no smiley on the OPK. Apparently the Mr. is wanting a baby more these days. Or something. Not only did he buy the OPK's this time, but he also made the comment that the best way to 'do this' might be to have The Sex every other day.

It's only been 13 months. I swear he's not mentally challenged normally.

My god.

2009-02-15T11:00:00.005-06:00

I'm not sure what I was doing yesterday writing about my busy week and forgetting the single most important factor of the entire week, month, year so far... BRYAN ADAMS IS COMING! :)

And this time, it's all him, all acoustic. Holy mother of god am I excited!

I got tickets already but there was some drama involved, of course. There was a presale but, as you can see from the image, there was also an auction... and the auction was for 2 front row tickets and a meet and great with Bryan himself. Ack, makes me wanna vomit thinking about it!

Well, when I went to see about the presale/auction, I noticed that the auction started at $170 per ticket and you had to bid on a min/max of 2 tickets. It's a once in a lifetime thing (sort of) so I thought what the fuck, why not? But then I saw that the auction wasn't ending until the 23rd! Well, WTF?! I can't really go more than $200 a ticket - and even that is ridiculous IMO. So I decided to wait for Saturday for when the regular tickets would go on sale since the auction was the only option available.

But then my friend emailed me to let me know that tickets were on sale and we went back and forth about the auction and Fuck Me Sideways! the regular tickets were also on presale in addition to the Auction! So an hour and a half after the Presale began, I finally got my tickets: Row K on the main floor. They're good seats, but what would I have gotten had the fucking Ticketmaster thingie displayed that there was still a presale for regular seats available in addition to the Auction?! Grrrr.

I'm still happy, don't get me wrong... just a little ticked off that I couldn't get better seats when I had every intention of doing so.

So will all this Bryan Adams nonsense ever dissipate from my life? Or will I love and adore this man until one of us dies? It's a question I've thought about for about 20 years now, insanely enough. I know I've talked about my obsession with the man before... and it stems from him saving my life. For real. No joke. Pathetic maybe, yes; but not a joke. That's where my obsession and love for him stems from... it's not that I lust over his body or something because I don't. He's just ... I just am very grateful to be a fan of someone who loves what he does so much that he keeps doing it regardless.

Doesn't everyone have a Bryan Adams of sorts in their life? Maybe it's in the form of a movie or a book or a piece of art? Or maybe I'm just fucking batshitcrazy.
______________________________

The condo we looked at yesterday was pretty OK. I really liked that every single room had a window or two. I liked the location a lot. There were a couple things I didn't care for - the bedrooms still had old carpeting, the layout wouldn't be so fun for the cats, the laundry is all the way in the basement (it was a top floor unit). But the things I liked about it trumps the things I disliked... but Stephen's not entirely on the same page. We'll keep looking, of course, but hot damn is this not very easy.
______________________________

I peed on a digital OPK and didn't get a smiley yet.

Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T08:55:00.005-06:00

It's been a pretty busy week and when I'm busy, I'm not as occupied with the fact that I should be 8 months pregnant and expecting a baby at any time now - but am not any longer. This is a good thing because I'm quite sure that when the end of this month and early next month rolls around, I will be singing a different tune... one that I'm not very much looking forward to.

Maybe I can avoid it by keeping busy through the next couple of months. Here's to hoping, eh?

So this week was spent looking for a new home (apartment, townhouse, house, loft). There are gobs of listings, of course, but we have certain criteria, of course, that must be met before we even look at a place: minimum 2 bedrooms, central a/c, off-street parking, cats allowed. I've been spending a great portion of the week sifting through ads, contacting people to inquire about a/c and parking (mainly), and keeping track of it all.

We saw two places last Friday and both were in the same development. Think the Edward Scissorhands neighborhood... or the opening of Weeds when they show the neighborhood. Every single home looks identical.

Honestly, aside from the fact that one of the townhouses was in awful condition and the other was stark white and laid out oddly, there's no way we'd rent because it would take forever to figure out which 'home' was ours! It was quite crazy, to be blunt. It was like a subdivision of 10 streets and off of those 10 streets were rows jutting in and out of the street. And on those rows were about 10 buildings containing 4 single space garages that were completely attached and 4 homes. It was fucking weird, I say! If you didn't live there, you had to park on the street and the street had no parking on it because it was full of cars already. And even if you found a parking spot, you'd have to be a mad scientist to figure out which 'house' was the one you needed to visit.

It was pretty disappointing, but whatever.

Our next "adventure" was visiting yet another townhouse in the city. This place had it all - 3 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, 2 car attached garage, 4 levels, awesome kitchen, washer/dryer in unit (wooooo!). And the location was absolutely spot on for us as it was located near the expressway I hop on to get to/from work and the one Stephen takes as well. It would cut our current commute down by at least a half hour!

We were pretty damn excited to be seeing the place and almost as soon as the tour began, we were wishing it would be over.

I was beyond pissed by the time we left the house.

How on earth can people show a home in such a nasty fucking condition? It completely infuriates me. The floors were filthy, the kitchen sink was atrocious and looked as if it hadn't been cleaned once in the six years it had been there, the cabinet next to the fridge had mold in it, the fridge wreaked like.. I don't even want to guess, the stairway's carpeting was completely filthy, the walls were not painted and had marks and gashes in them, the 2 smaller bedrooms were filthy and not freshly painted, the bathroom tubs had mold on the edges... I was livid by the time we left.

Livid.

It was the perfect location, the perfect size; it was warm and quiet even though it was on a busy street; it had an attached garage, washer/dryer... but it was filthy.

Grrrrrr.

So now we're back at square one. We have another appointment this afternoon to view a place with 1 car attached garage. It's more apartment-like than house, but it *looks* much cleaner. And so help me if I walk in and it's filthy again, I don't think I can hold my tongue!

After today's tour, we have to go to my condo and make sure it's ready for the new tenant. I'm happy we found someone (finally- after almost two fucking years) but I'm sad because it's *my* condo and by renting it out, it's like releasing my independancy - or something.

I love being married and being with my man all the time... but I worked my ass off to get that condo - and I did it all by myself.

Not only that but by renting it out, that means we have to do this searching for a place for us because I *refuse* to continue to live in the hole we're currently living in. (The condo is a 1 bedroom before you ask why we're not living there.)

So that's what's going on with me and why I haven't been posting.

And in TTC-related bullshit...

I sent Stephen out to get some OPK's. Clearblue Easy Digital ones, to be exact. The ones with the smiley face. The ones that tell you, one way or another, whether or not it's time to get your groove on. No more taking things easy. Screw that. We're on cycle 13, gdammit. That means it's time to FWAP (fuck with a purpose)!

Anyway, I've sent him a couple links to good offers on these as they can be quite damn pricey, but he kept forgetting to order them so I finally told him to just go get them at Walgreens or CVS. So he did. Last night.

And that leads to something that cracked my shit up: He went to a CVS first and the CBE digitals were on sale and therefore there were none on the shelf. So then we drove over to Walgreens and found that they were on sale there, too. Fortunately he found that there was ONE box left in the back. So he grabs it and goes to check out and the cashier says, "Uh oh, what did you do?"

Stephen says, "It's not what you think," and points out that it's and ovulation package and not pregnancy tests. "I haven't done anything yet," he adds.

"Oh," the cashier says, "it's just that every other guy has come in here buying cards, chocolates, and teddy bears and you're buying those."

Ooopsie. I kind of forgot that I was sending him out there the day before Valentine's day. Ha! He's such a trooper.

So here's to FWAP in the hopes of giving my trooper husband a baby for his birthday in November.

Focusing elsewhere

2009-02-08T11:55:00.006-06:00

It truly never ceases to amaze me how much more...human I feel once AF arrives. Honest to god the two or three week buildup to her arrival is insane -- emotionally, physically, everything. I hate who I become and I'm so tired of it.

Anyway, I'm on CD4 of my 13th cycle TTC. This should actually be cycle 14 but because AF decided to skip town in January for some reason, here we are at 13. As of today, right now, I'm feeling great about things. We're going to be getting digital OPK's -- the ones with the smiley face -- and a new basal thermometer. And we're going to FWAP (fuck with a purpose) once that smiley shows up! We're going to make a baby, dammit! One for Stephen's birthday in November! That's it! I've decided. It's happening this cycle! It just has to.

I think another reason I'm feeling great today is that I've got something to focus on other than baby making... I've taken up knitting and we're moving at the end of next month.

It took me a while to get the hang of the knitting but now that I feel more comfortable with it, I'm having a hard time putting it down! So I decided to embark upon the task of making a baby blanket. I've got one nephew due to arrive in early July and another great-nephew or great-niece (I'm not going to even comment how it is that everyone else can seem to pop out babies around me) due in early September. This first blanket is for the nephew and it calls for 116 stitches across and 160 rows! When complete it should measure 32x36.

There's nothing real fancy about it - just regular knitting and some purling.

Here's the first 10 rows, regular knit:

And the next 10 rows with purling and regular knitting:

Eeek! I can't believe I've done so much of it... here's the next 10 rows (30 total):

I've still got quite a ways to go, but I'm so happy with the progress of it so far... even though there are a couple holes (you can see one of them in this pic near the bottom, near right side) which I'm hoping my mom can somehow fix. And even if she can't fix, I'm not giving up. I'm going to finish it if it's the only knitting I ever do (which I don't think it will be because I find it very enjoyable and relaxing).

So aside from the knitting, we're also moving at the end of next month.

Sigh.

I hate moving. I mean, I don't really know anyone who likes it but .. ugh. The only thing I "like" about it is that it's a great opportunity to purge a lot of shit and a great way to start over fresh and sparkling clean. Plus, this move is a bit different than past moves because it will be our first place that we both pick out together.

Still, I hate moving... looking at enough places, finding the one we both agree on, coming up with the money for deposit, packing (ugh!), physically moving (double ugh!). Gross.

But at least all of this is keeping me away from all the baby boards and stuff.

Friday Funny

2009-02-06T09:57:00.006-06:00

Yeah so every so often I can check and see how people stumble onto my blog and I think yesterday's was my favorite. Apparently someone from Missouri found my blog by searching "Losing my mind, ready to snap with kids" on google. Why and how that brought them here - to a blog about a woman dealing with one pregnancy loss, no babies of her own, and surviving everyone else's pregnancy/baby/kid stories - I don't know. I mean, yeah, I've about Snapped a couple times, but not as a result of my kids driving me crazy. Quite the contrary.

Whatever.

If I don't laugh about it, I'll cry and I've certainly done more than my share of that lately.

Today=CD2=bad motherfucking cramping and bleeding. But at least the irritability has dissipated greatly.

One of the funniest things I've seen in a long time!

2009-02-05T16:40:00.002-06:00

OMG

2009-02-04T11:21:00.001-06:00

My boobs feel like they're going to EXPLODE!!

Day 43, Cycle 6 since

2009-02-03T15:25:00.003-06:00

Day 43 of my sixth cycle since the d&c.

Today involved a trip to the doctor.

I cried.

I tried not to. But I couldn’t help it.

When I first walked in, I was greeted by a barely walking little boy. My heart felt a tug. When I turned the corner to get to the receptionist’s area, I was greeted by pregnant belly after pregnant belly. As I sat down to fill out paperwork, a male voice behind me said, “Yeah, it’s another girl.”

I tried not to cry.

Then a little girl appeared. Maybe two. “She’s so cute,” was said over and over again. She really, really was. I think she was the big sister to the girl mentioned in the phone call from the guy behind me.

I filled out the paperwork, wiping a tear here and there.

I should be 8 months pregnant right now. I should be seriously freaking out about giving birth in a couple weeks. It should be hard for me to fit behind the steering wheel in the car.

Instead, I’m visiting the doctor because it’s been 43 days since my last period.

My name is called and I look up at the girl calling out for me. She, too, is pregnant.

I wanted to collapse to the floor, shrink into the fetal position, and cry myself to sleep.

“How are you?” she asked.

“OK,” I whispered, trying to stifle the tears.

I followed her down two short hallways into a room. She closed the door behind us.

“So why are you here today?” she asked, looking down at her paperwork.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t make eye contact. I tried my best to breathe and when I tried speaking, I lost it. I started crying...sobbing uncontrollably whilst trying to apologize.

“It’s OK,” she said.

I don’t think she believed it was either.

After a good minute, I finally managed to tell her why I was there – because I was still waiting for my period. And I finally managed to tell her it was my sixth cycle since the d&c.

I cried some more. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t look at her. And I knew she felt pity for me and that made me cry more. I hate that I’m becoming (or maybe I’ve already become?) that person that everyone feels pity for. I HATE IT!

She told me it was going to be OK (not very convincingly) and that I needed to undress from the waist down and that the doc would be in shortly.

I suspect she left there, rubbing her belly and saying a little something to her baby as she walked to the front for her next patient. I know I would’ve.

I pulled myself together in time for the doc to come in. We talked for quite a while. He looked through all the paperwork and I saw the ultrasound printouts from six months ago. My heart sank. I looked away and recited the alphabet in my mind as we talked about everything.

He really is a great doctor when he doesn’t have to be the bearer of horrific news.

He did an internal exam.

We talked a bit more about everything baby/TTC related. We both agree that Stephen and I are going to continue trying for another 5 months… and if no BFP by July, one year following my one and only BFP, then doc will turn me over to an RE.

Before leaving entirely, he had the girls draw blood and then do another ultrasound. My fifth in six months – and I’m not even pregnant.

“This goes into the vagina,” the tech said, holding a wand of sorts. “I can guide it in or you can.”

Wah?!? Why the fuck would I want to ‘guide in’ a fucking camera?! “Um you can.”

Ugh. This one was painful. She poked and prodded and pushed that fucking wand around a good bit before telling me to get dressed again and come out when done.

When I did, she took me to another room and the doc came right away. He told me my uterus looked great (and I believed him). He said my ovaries had follicles and everything looked the way it should. He said if I didn’t get “any blood” (he was careful not to say “a period” or “menstruation” interestingly enough) in the next two weeks to come back.

So now I wait. Again.

Saturday! In the park. I think it was the fourth of July.

2009-01-31T09:27:00.005-06:00

One of these days I'll have to take a picture of my husband's stash of yarn. He's become a bit of a Knitting Freak. It's very charming, actually. And truthfully, I'm a bit jealous. We both wanted to learn the hobby and while I've picked it up pretty easily (it's really not that hard to learn in case you were wondering), he keeps on knitting and I just sit in marvel.

I want to learn to make baby blankets and booties and sweaters and such. You know, for everyone else's baby. :D :P

But you can't really just jump right into whatever you want. I mean, I suppose you could if you wanted to but I don't think the end result would be something you'd want to give someone as a gift. That means in order to get to make the things you want to make, you need to start with the smaller, easier things. Like scarves. And as much as I like a good, warm, neat-looking scarf for these cold winter months, there's only so many scarves a person can have. Like two, maybe. Two's a good numbers of scarves to have... not 10. :)

Ah, my husband. He always puts a smile on my face. It doesn't matter how shitty I'm feeling, he can always make me smile. And if not, he's got amazing lips to suck on to make me feel better.

:)

Today we have to show the condo to someone. Yeah, it's been almost two years of throwing away a mortgage for something that's sitting empty. And with two months left on our (his) lease, either the condo needs to get rented - now - or we're moving back when the lease is up in two months. I've put my foot down.

Anyhow, I'm excited. The condo is located about 30 miles from here, out in the suburbs. And the suburbs is home to malls and those dreary chain restaurants. Do you know what that means? Do you?

RED ROBIN HERE I COME.

I.
cannot.
fucking.
wait.

Sometimes it truly is the little things that you need to focus on.

We're also going to go see the new movie, Taken which looks crazy - especially the scene where whatshisname stabs someone's thighs with two knitting needles. And since we're (he's) on a knitting kick, we just have to see it (and so help me god if there's a pregnant bitch in this one).

Like I said, it's the little things. :)

Red Robin and Taken here we come!

2009-01-30T10:01:00.004-06:00

My cousin's wife responded to the email I inadvertently sent her instead of my other cousin. I knew she'd be cool with it and very understanding and she was. She told me not to feel bad or sad or embarrassed and she proceeded to give me her stats with all of her losses. She has seven babies in heaven. :( And one miracle child. :)

I responded back and confessed to my pregnancy, loss, and d&c and she's glad the door has now been opened.

Stephen just called to check on me and when I told him about my cousin's wife, he said, "You should be glad that so many people care about you." He didn't say it sarcastically; he said it in a way to make me feel better.

Instead, the tears started flowing.

"I do," I managed to whisper through the tears. "That's just it. I'm so incredibly blessed in so many ways..." I had to stop to focus on breathing for a moment.

"...except for One way," I whispered. "And it's that one thing that makes me so angry and takes away from all things I should feel blessed about."

"I love you," he said. "I wish you weren't having such a bad week."

I just really need Flo to show. (And yes, I tested again this morning with a digital: BFN. CD38)

That

2009-01-29T18:13:00.005-06:00

I really don't want to become That person. You know, the one that everyone whispers about behind her back? The one that everyone walks on eggshells around? The one that everyone feels pity for? But I feel like, with every passing day, I'm becoming That person. And it sucks.

I sent an email to my cousin today to let her know that I was having a bad day. We've sort of lost contact with one another ever since the d&c. She stopped emailing me and I shut completely down. I'm better now in regards to the loss, but I still don't like reaching out. I thought today would be the day to do so. Nothing too elaborate, just an "I'm having a shitty day because I'm still not pregnant while everyone else around me is and I'm the longest cycle of my month" type of email.

But instead of sending it to her, I sent it to her sister-in-law.

I thought my heart was going to fly out from my chest, through my mouth. Honestly. I felt so sick when I realized I hit SEND and off it was going to my other cousin's wife instead of the cousin intended.

Instantly I sent another email begging that she ignore the email, that it was sent to her in error. But let's be realistic, people: I know I'd read it!

So now two more people will know that I'm not pregnant even though I want to be.

Fantastic.

Nothing like opening the door even more to becoming That person.

Sigh.

But here's the ironic thing about this little escapade. I was thinking earlier that it might just be time for me to share my troubles with a couple other people in the family. And I was thinking this because I know people are talking behind my back: Don't they want kids? I always thought she would make such a good mother. I can't believe they don't have kids yet! She's no spring chicken.

So maybe I sent the damn email on purpose, subconsciously?

Argh.

Anyway it's been a truly rough day for me emotionally. I've come to terms again that I've got so much anger inside and it's scary. I see it in my driving, I feel it in my thoughts. I don't like this side of me at all. It's not healthy whatsoever. And it's so very, very draining, not to mention completely unfair to everyone around me!

I think a lot of this has to do with fear. Fear of getting pregnant again and losing it. Fear of not getting pregnant again. Fear of not becoming a Mom. Fear of getting yet another BFN. And this long ass cycle just isn't helping because now it's adding to the fear of being pre-menopausal since I'm at 'that age'.

Yup. I'm at That age and I'm becoming That person. Fanfuckingtastic!

Ugly Ugly UGLY

2009-01-29T14:23:00.002-06:00

So this is one of those blog posts not meant for the reader so much as it's meant to get it out of my head! I'm in a very selfish place with this and the language, among other things, is embarrassing. But it's where I'm at right now. Unfortunately.
_____________________________________________

It’s happening again… the anger.

I’m so motherfucking upset with myself right now because of it.

How could I let myself get sucked in again? Into the hope that I will one day become a mother?

What the motherfucking shit was I thinking?

It’s so obvious that I’ve done something, apparently, to disable me from procreating. I mean, what else can there be? I’m 36 for fucks sake. If it’s not going to happen now… when then? And why do I have to wait this long?

What.
The.
Fuck.
Other.
Lesson.
In.
Life.
Do.
I.
Need.
To.
Learn.
Before I can be Graced with the gift of a child?

FUCK!

Honestly this is where I am right now and it frightens the shit out of me; the anger is consuming my every fucking thought. I hate this side of me. With a motherfucking passion.

I’m on day 37 of the longest cycle of my life. Are you fucking kidding me? This month has been fucking horrific. What the fuck kind of way to ring in the motherfucking new year but with weeks of cramps and irritability?! And why not throw in a several negative HPT’s? And for shits and giggles, let’s add a handful of pregnancy announcements – from others, of course? Why not? Why not just get on out there with a shovel and dig my hole a little fucking deeper, too?

Why? Why, why, why?

I need ... something … to help me understand this. WHY?

Gah

2009-01-26T10:58:00.006-06:00

My nephew called me about an hour ago. He said he had some news: He's going to be a Uncle.

I'm not surprised by the news (because I saw the announcment on Myspace) but I acted surprised nonetheless. At least I didn't feel like I was being punched in the stomach when he told me so I guess that's one benefit of seeing it on Myspace, eh. Yeah, so his sister's pregnant. She's 21 and will be 22 when the baby is due. She just lost her job and was recently in a car accident so she was pretty freaked out, apparently, when she found out she's pregnant.

Oh, and she has one ovary.

Of course a girl with no job, with a lot of debt, and with ONE ovary is able to get pregnant. Of course. Why not? She, after all, probably wasn't taking her first waking temperature, tracking her cervical mucus, etc. She, after all, probably doesn't even know anything about ovulation or anything much about what some women go through to conceive. Nope. But she's pregnant. (And I'm sure a lot would say it's because she didn't think about conceiving. Fuck off if that's your thought.)

Apparently she was so freaked out over being knocked up that she wanted to abort but my nephew, supposedly, talked her out of it.

And now my 16 year old nephew is going to be an uncle.

And I'm going to be a Great Aunt.

Again.

That means that my ex-sister-in-law will be a grandmother at the age of 37. That makes me laugh. She had her daughter, the one that's pg, when she was 16. That's why she'll be such a young grammie.

And while that makes me laugh for a minute, it makes me sad, too. That poor excuse of a mother is going to be a grandmother at 37, and at 36, I'm still not even a Mom.

Gah!

I guess I should just be happy I don't have a headache today.

PMS? Or losing my mind?

2009-01-25T09:28:00.004-06:00

Warning: The following post may contain some nasty language.

I have a killer headache.
And occasional cramps.
And constant motherfucking irritability.

But I still don't have my motherfucking period and I've taken three motherfucking HPT's and all have come back Negative.

WHAT
THE
FUCK

This is day 33 of my cycle. My average is about 27 days. This is the longest cycle since the first one following my d&c in late July. I can't take much more of the irritability. My husband can't take much more of it.

Give me my fucking period or a BFP already!

Dear lord, I was supposed to go to a baby shower today for a group of friends on the internet. I never said I would go, but still, I should've gone. How the fuck can I when it's for like seven pregnant girls? I mean, it's hard enough to go to a baby shower for one girl; I can't fathom going to one for more than one girl. Yes, everyone else around me is pregnant but me. I get it. I don't need to fucking submerge myself in that. Sure I'm being selfish, but oh the fuck well. I'm not going to put myself in a place where I will most likely revert back to my ugly days (following the d&c). Gah, and with the way I'm feeling today - like I could rip off someone's limbs as if they were a barbie doll - I'm thinking it's a good thing I never said I'd go. Can you imagine? Wow, I can. I think it would be the thing to put me over the edge.

Anyway. Yeah. Been avoiding this post like the plague all week because I was hoping for AF or a BFP by now. But neither have come and I have to get this shit out of me once and for all.

Cheerio.

Bitter much?

2009-01-21T18:37:00.004-06:00

Welp... It's that time of year again. Time for the company I work for (and I'm pretty certain I'm not alone here) to change insurance company's again. I get it, I do; I'd much rather HR work their asses off to find an insurance that will offer us a lower deductible than to just stick it out with the same ole same ole but holy headache!

Today's meeting was 2 hours. And I'm still confused.

In the past, we were only offered a PPO health insurance. This time, they're offering an HMO. And while I said I would never go the HMO route again... they sure did entice me. We'll see what the old man has to say about it but I've already checked and both my Primary Care doctor as well as that ever loving OBGYN are in-network -- whether I go the HMO or PPO route. I dunno. It just seems like if I have a doctor in the HMO, I'm going to save a shitload of money. And lord knows if this year is anything like the past two years, I'm gonna need all the money I can save.

After the two hour meeting, one of my coworkers asked me what I thought: "Are you happy about the new insurance," she shrieked. I looked up from the work that has been piling on my desk all week. "Well it doesn't really matter for you," she continued, "since it's just you and Stephen. You can continue to get the single insurance and not pay."

I glared at her as the diarrhea about her daughter and her this and her husband and her that ran from her mouth.

She didn't get it... the diarrhea ran from her mouth and down her little business suit and formed a puddle below her ugly brown 1985 pumps. I just looked at her and she started to sound like a Charlie Brown character, Wah Wah Wah-Wah-Wah.

"Have a good evening," I finally spat as I typed something on a spreadsheet, turning my attention back toward the computer monitor.

It's been six months, I told myself. To her it's all over with. She probably doesn't even remember. And if she does remember, it's just not a big enough deal to her when she's got her two precious kids to worry about.

That reminds me... Stephen asked me if I was "Bitter much?!" the other day whilst looking for knitting supplies (yeah we've taken up a new hobby) after I mentioned I wanted to learn how to knit adorable baby stuff for everyone else's babies since we don't have one yet.

Yeah, apparently some days I still am bitter. And??? ;)

Sunday, bloody Sunday?

2009-01-18T10:51:00.008-06:00

I got out of the shower a little bit ago and was moisturizing the old face and noticed how tired I look. I then smiled, trying to use some PMA (positive mental attitude) to look more 'alive'. That's when all the lines under my eyes appeared.

I'm getting old. There's no mistaking it.

I know they're just wrinkles and it's what's on the inside that counts... but then I think about how I'm *still* not a mom yet and boy does it kinda bring me down.

I've been tracking on excel my cycles and I had yesterday's box in pink because I thought maybe I'd get my period. Nope. I ran in the bathroom all day checking. There were several times I was cramping like it was coming but nothing. My boobs aren't really sore either. Strange, that. I'm trying not to get too excited because I really don't think our timing was there this cycle... but I didn't think it was timed good the cycle I got my BFP either. So who knows. Oh wait, I know! Duh!

I thought about my cycles and such and I'm not really sure why I had yesterday as the day I should get my period. That was only day 25 of this cycle. Stupid.

Basically if I don't get AF by February, then I might have something to think about.

All this has made me realize that I miss tracking my morning temps and stuff. There was no guesswork when I took my temps. Either it was still high and I was still in the 2WW or it dropped signifying AF... or, like in July, it got a bit higher and higher and never dropped! Boy was that exciting... waking up every morning after the BFP to see my temps were still up, making me believe more and more that my dreams were coming true. I was so insanely excited. I had a constant smile on my face. I enjoyed the constant peeing, the horrendously sore boobs, the occasional cramping. I loved it all because I was finally going to be a Mom.

Blech, enough of that.

Yeah so I'm realizing more and more that it's time to get back with the true tracking of it all. As much as it was nice not to have to freak out about the timing of everything and have baby on the brain 24/7, it just hasn't been cutting it. I'd rather know for sure if and when AF is coming.

Brother

2009-01-14T12:21:00.004-06:00

I dreamt of my brother last night and it’s making me a bit uneasy because normally when I dream vividly or in a way where the dream ‘sticks’ with me, it usually has a way of coming true… maybe not immediately, but sometime in the future something may happen where a light bulb will go off and I end up thinking, Holy shit, I dreamt about this happening.

I used to be pretty close with my brother but then life happens and people make choices that we don't all agree with and end up going down different paths.

When we were kids, I used to always want to play with him; I basically wanted to be him. He’s 3 years older than me and I hated being a girl. I wanted a BMX like him, I wanted to play soccer like him, I wanted to play baseball like him. He never let me tag along though. I’d follow him around like a lost puppy and just sort of show up wherever he was and if he saw that I was there, he and his friends would taunt me until I ran away.

We weren’t very close growing up at all. Actually none of us (Brother, Sister, myself) were. We each sort of fended for ourselves and went about our youthful days alone or with our friends, pretty much excluding one another from our lives outside of the family life.

When I was around 11, Brother became friends with his best friend, Paul. Paul was Brother’s age and deaf. Brother was the only kid in the school Paul transferred into that befriended him. Paul had a little sister, Jennifer. And soon, Brother, Paul, Jennifer and I would hang out…usually it was at their house because they didn’t have a dad and their mom pretty much let them do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted.

So at age 11, the four of us would walk around the streets late at night smoking cigarettes or we’d hang out at their home cussing and acting like a bunch of bad asses that we actually weren’t. This was about the time when I learned to ride my bike home whilst looking like a retard – my greatest apologies to anyone with any kind of disabilities, of course.

Yep, I was around 11 and hanging out with Jennifer a lot and riding my bike home the mile or two from their house late at night and because I was always the type of person to think the worst case scenario, I was sure that some strange, creepy predator would come out and try to attack me or kidnap me or rape me. So to avoid that from happening, I’d ride my bike as fast as I could with my face in odd contortions and if I happened to pass some man on the street walking, I’d make odd creepy noises. I was certain this would keep the crazies away… and apparently it worked because I was never attacked, or raped, or kidnapped.

Anyway it was around this time in our lives when I was closest with my brother, but it didn’t last long. Soon we moved from my childhood home and Brother, now in high school, was never home and Jennifer and I lost contact due to the move so I rarely saw my brother.

It actually wasn’t until my late teens when Brother and I reconnected. Ironically it was also around this same time when Jennifer and I reconnected because, lo and behold, Brother and Jennifer ended up getting married one day and having a baby! I started hanging out with them a lot in my early 20s and then when I was like 24, Jennifer decided she no longer loved Brother the way a wife loves a husband, and she decided she wanted to be single again so left her kids (one from a prior relationship and my nephew) with Brother.

After Jennifer left, I moved in with Brother and the kids to help take care of the two kids. We became pretty close during those years because aside from him, I was his son’s primary caretaker (the other child ended up moving back in with Jennifer). I lived with him for almost five years before realizing I had to move out and start living life for myself.

Then two and half years ago, my brother decided to allow my nephew to move in with his mother (Jennifer). Brother and Nephew’s relationship deteriorated. Brother reconnected with someone he had a relationship with prior to marrying Jennifer, and moved to another state to be with this woman and her two kids. They got married in March of 2007. They’re expecting their first baby (together) in the summer. Brother and his son haven’t talked since my wedding in June 2007. I haven’t talked to Brother since around the same time, as well.

I understand the choices he made. I do not, however, understand his near abandonment of his son. And that’s where I draw the line. Of course I love my brother, but I don’t like him much these days. I used to feel sorry for him, but not anymore. You simply don’t have a child with someone and throw them away when the going gets tough and run off and have a child with someone else. It’s just not right.

Anyway, the dream: He came to visit. His wife was still pregnant and still trashy. He decided he was going to stay here and not go back home to his wife. I was surprised by this but also happy. I felt like I could finally tell him how I felt about his wife and the whole situation.

I don’t really remember anything specific, but I do remember the players and I do remember that he left her. And I do remember it being a happy dream.

We'll see what happens in reality. Not my problem either way but I do find it creepily intriguing when parts of my dreams come true.

PMS

2009-01-13T15:11:00.009-06:00

I’m feeling like shit yet again – cramps, headache, my bra is super tight today… I’m so fucking sick of this.

I’m reminded of the time I first went to my doctor about a year and a half ago to tell him I wanted to go off the Pill and that we were going to TTC soon. I remember telling him that I was a bit apprehensive about it because the main reason I went on the Pill 15 years prior was because of the horrid PMS I would suffer. I told him about my concerns and asked if I could take an anti-depressant or anti-anxiety pill if it came down to killing someone whilst off the Pill or not killing someone. We discussed it in great length and came to the understanding that I would go off the Pill when I was ready and go without any other medication, but that he would keep an eye on me. I remember how he told me that, oftentimes, women find that because they’re TTC, they’re more apt to eat better and stuff which may release some of the PMS symptoms from previous years. He also said that if it came down to it and I really felt I needed something, I could always come back and talk to him and he would put me on small doses and keep an eye on me… and if I were to become pregnant, I could be monitored closely and quite possibly stop taking the meds. He mentioned, also, that oftentimes symptoms or ailments we might endure pre-pregnancy will change or disappear once we become pregnant because our bodies have something else to do (read: grow a baby).

I remember coming out of that appointment feeling a bit more empowered than when I went in, and a little anxious, too. I was going to go off birth control. Finally at 35, I was going to try to fulfill me needs to become a mom. Wow was that an exciting time.

I remember ordering Taking Charge of Your Fertility (TCOYF) from Amazon two Christmases ago, along with some other books to give as gifts, and diving right into it as soon as it came. I read all about cervical mucous (CM), taking my temperature with a basal thermometer to track ovulation, etc. I learned so much from reading that book, and for the first time in my 35 years, I felt like a true woman. I was empowered and I was going to make a baby (with my husband of course).

That first couple of months were so nerve-wracking. I had so many questions about everything. The CM couldn’t come fast enough. Neither could three days of risen temps. And that 2WW? Forgetaboutit! Ack, time seemed to stand still! And every month AF inevitably showed up, I was prepared and ready for her because my temperature always took a significant dive. I knew what I was doing.

But then one month turned into several and people around me were getting pregnant, but we weren’t. I even tried ovulation sticks one month. And just as I was about to give up, guess what happened? Yup, a BFP. I was beyond elated. But I don’t need to go down that lane again (though you can always read more about that in that blog).

Blah, blah, blah… Anyway, my point to this little post was that I think I need to go back to my doctor and get him to prescribe me something. An anti-depressant or something. The PMS is killing me lately. I just don’t have that excitement I had last year. This isn’t new anymore. The cramps, the backache, the headache, the bloating, the irritability… it’s all getting to be too much again. I’m about ready to snap someone’s arm off their body. Or ram into their car. Or trip them going down the stairs. I’m sick of feeling like this. I need some drugs.
Or a baby, of course. ;)

Monday Musings

2009-01-12T14:34:00.006-06:00

I'm not too thrilled right now.

I have cramps. :(

Grrrrr.

I'm on CD21. I'll probably be getting AF next week. I cannot believe I've been getting it now for 25 years. That's insane. I need a break from AF. I need to get pregnant and stay pregnant so I don't have to have her disrupt my life for a year or so. If that's not a reason to get ktfu, I don't know what is! ;) :D

The only bright side to getting AF this cycle is that I talked to S and he's on board with buying either digital OPK sticks or an actual monitor. I'm guessing we'll go with the digital sticks next cycle. And since he's on board, he can fork over the money and therefore cannot give me the "too much pressure" excuse for boinking me when I'm ovulating. ;)

In other news, I think my dad wants to be granddaddy to one of our kids. Sigh. He's been making little comments here and there. Last week when we were eating dinner at his place and were ready to leave, he said, "Why? You have to go home and take care of the kids?" S and I both ignored his comment because it's usually best to do so rather than get into an argument over the fact that he's "old and just has to say what's on [his] mind." Our ignoring didn't go off so well and he said it again and quickly added, "I mean your cats?!"

Of course I can be reading more into it than what's actually meant, but I don't think I am. I've got a pretty good read on people.

The other day at a hockey game, we were sitting in front of a mom with her two little ones - about 3 and 1. They were adorable and very well behaved. My dad kept elbowing me to "look how cute" the kids were and every time I felt my stomach churn. He has no idea how badly I want to be a mom.... how much I look forward to his pride and joy when he can hold another grandchild.... how terrified I am that he may be too old to enjoy it when/if we finally have a child.

It's kind of sad because I want to tell him that I was pregnant but lost the baby, but I don't think he'll 'get' it and frankly, I have no desire to explain it. And I sure as hell do not want to hear, "Oh well, it'll happen again" or "Well better luck next time." And knowing my dad, I can pretty much guarantee a stupid comment like that.

Getting on track

2009-01-11T11:29:00.004-06:00

So once again it's been awhile. I guess that means things have been OK. And they have... for the most part.

My little meltdowns have gotten smaller and smaller and just not as significant. Apparently. I'm not as angry or jealous. That's not to say that there's no anger or jealousy because believe me, there most certainly is; it just doesn't seem to consume me as much lately. Thankfully.

I bought something for myself just before Christmas. Something to maybe help us along in this hideous game of trying to conceive. It's called Fertile-Focus and it's a tiny magnifying glass that takes a drop of your saliva and tells you - by way of looking through tiny scope and observing the patterns of your saliva - if you're ovulating. I've been using it since just before the new year and according to what I'm supposed to be looking for, I still haven't ovulated. So now I'm not sure if the damn thing works. I figured it was worth a shot and the $30 because unlike ovulation prediction kits/sticks, this Fertility Focus is something you can use as often as you want. I figured it was cheaper to go this route but now I'm not sure I didn't just throw away $30.

Ugh.

Anyway... I guess my point is that I'm ready to try and track things again. Poo. I really didn't want it to come back down to tracking shit, but I suppose it's best to be as knowledgeable about my cycles as possible for my next doctor's appointment. It's been six months since the miscarriage, after all. (I've been charting by way of Excel spreadsheet when my period et al comes, but I have NOT been temping or being very anal about it all.)

Can I just say how much this fucking sucks, though?! Because it does. Because all those people who preached (and still do today) for me (and others) to "Just Relax and you'll get Pregnant" were apparently wrong. Apparently not really giving a shit about my cycle hasn't really helped me conceive any sooner than caring about it did. So there! Now I can tell you to Shut the Fuck Up when you start telling me to relax again. Not that you'll have a real reason to tell me to relax since I never ever talk about TTC anymore.

I find that not really talking about it (on message boards as that's really the only place I talked about it) and not really paying much attention (or at least *trying* not to pay attention) to all the baby talk out there, has helped me let go of some of the ugliness that consumed me for so long. But it's not easy. I still have my moments when I get all teary eyed, when I feel like it's happening for everyone else but me. I still get angry and jealous and even ugly about it all. But I've learned to somehow accept those feelings when they come for what they are and then do my best to move on. I mean, what other choice do I have really? It's either drown myself in the ugliness to the point where it's who I am (again) or do my best to let it go.

And I like myself a lot more when I do the latter.

New Year, New Look

2009-01-07T13:30:00.003-06:00

So what do you think? Do you like the new look, the groovy green (my favorite color)? Or were you a fan of the boring black and white from before? I liked the other one, but I thought with a new year, why not change things up a bit.

That being said, don't be surprised if you see the posts taking on a different tone as well. I'm sure there will be moments when I come here to whine, bitch, moan, cry, and throw a huge pity party for myself, but more than not, I expect to be using this blog as a means of getting together my memoir. I was going to create a whole other blog but the fact of the matter is that I like this blog and it's helped push me into wanting to go through with writing the memoir, so why not keep it all here?

That's what I think, at least. So that's what I'll do.

Sister

2009-01-06T09:53:00.006-06:00

Saturday we took my dad to visit with my sister and her family. I hate going out there. It's a long-ass drive and the hospitality is nonexistant. But I was tired of listening to my father nag me about going so I gave in.

My sister and I don't really get along. We never really have. I'm guessing it's because she's 7 years older and just never liked kids. At least that's what she told me when I was younger: "You're the reason I hate kids so much." She went on to have three kids and now there's even a grandbaby living in her home. She still hates kids though. She likes them when they're itty bitty and then when they're self sufficient, but only if they belong to her. Otherwise, she's not a fan of kids. At all.

Anyway, we've never been close. I remember aching for a better relationship at times - especially when watching movies or tv shows where the sisters have this amazingly close relationship... or when perusing the aisle of greeting cards. But we just never had that kind of relationship, sadly.

So we're sitting around on Saturday and somehow S mentions our parents and that - no offense to us - he couldn't really imagine our parents married and together. That's when I told him that with all the remembering I've been doing lately, I don't have any real memories with the two of them together. I can remember times with my dad and/or with my mom, but none with both. I just cannot see the two of them together in my mind's eye, no matter how hard I try.

I mentioned this because I wonder if maybe I'm blocking something out and wanted my sister's perspective since she's 7 years older. She closed her eyes for a moment and completely agreed with me: Our parents didn't really spend much time together.

"I don't even remember them fighting or anything," I said. "I mean, I remember that first day we went back into the house after staying with Oma and Ota and Mama making us hide out upstairs in your bedroom. And I remember her going downstairs when Papa came home and hearing them argue and being completley baffled by their screaming because I hadn't heard it before. And I remember you guys turning the radio louder to drown out the yelling."

I looked at my sister and she smiled. Not a warm, happy smile but a smile to let me know that she was there, that she lived through it too, that we come from the same background.

"You're right," she commented. "They pretty much hid their fighting and arguing and didn't really do anything together."

It's the first time I remember having a conversation about our childhood. Not only was it the first time in 30-plus years, but we actually have the same memories.

It's nice to know I'm not losing my mind and didn't just make shit up about my past... not that there's anything too horrific or magical that happened or anything.

Dear Coworker Mom of Teens

2008-12-29T11:56:00.005-06:00

I'm so happy to know someone close to my age who enjoys being a mom. Really. When we first met and you would tell me stories of your teenagers and your parenting, I was in awe and frankly, I admired both you and your husband. You guys seem to be on the same page when it comes to parenting and your kids seem to be reaping the reward for this fact. Congrats! Kudos! Way to go!

It's awesome to know that parents really do give a shit because there are so many parents in my life who just don't give a rat's ass about their kids. I mean, of course they love their child(ren) but they just don't seem to realize that it takes a lot of work to raise a child...they don't seem to realize that it takes more than birthing the child and feeding him.

Because we were kind of close coworkers, I shared with you the fact that I became pregnant in July. I tried not talking about the pregnancy a lot with you because it was so new and so fresh and I didn't want it to rule our each and every conversation. Maybe I was just preparing myself for what was to come: the loss. I don't know. But when I did have the surgery and the loss was official I couldn't tell you face-to-face about it... Do you remember? I had to email you to let you know that I couldn't talk about it in person or via email. Do you remember this?

I appreciate that, as time went on, you would stop by and ask how I was doing without asking about how I was dealing with the loss. I do appreciate the fact that you did what you could to let me know that you were there for me if I needed you.

When you told me that a sister in law (or someone similar) lost a baby a month before giving birth and that at least I didn't endure that, I was hurt. Bad. But I knew you didn't intend on hurting me. I knew that you were truly trying to make me feel better. And I understand that it's really not your fault since you haven't experienced an early pregnancy loss and since there's no real discussion on the matter. I get that. I really do.

But what I don't understand is how you can continue to talk to me day in and day out about kids... about what your daughter is doing... about the team your son is on... about how much time and money is involved in raising kids... about how cute little ones are around the holidays...

I can't do it anymore. I very rarely talk to you about anything personal. I haven't for months. Oh wait! I haven't since my loss - nearly 5 months ago! I NEVER bring up kids - yours or someone else's. So why...Why the fuck do you continue to talk to me about your kids, about kids in general?

I totally understand that you haven't endured a loss and you like and love your kids and they rule your world. I totally understand that and I totally admire you for that... but can you try to understand that maybe I just cannot bear the kid talk? Can you try to understand that it's hard to talk about still? Can you try to understand that while my baby wasn't a "real baby" in that there was no heartbeat detected, that it was still MY BABY and that I don't have that anymore and that I'm still not a mom? Please.

Please try to understand that the reason I very rarely talk to you anymore is because of this. Please try to understand this before I have to spell it the fuck out for you. Please just shut the fuck up already. Please.

Blech.

2008-12-23T15:13:00.001-06:00

I've been doing well lately. Then I got AF this morning. Whatevs, right? I was pretty proud with the fact that I was dealing with it OK... compared to the breakdowns I was having the past couple months, at least.

I had a doc appt at 11:40 for my blood pressure (need new scrit). I get there right on time and wait and wait.

A little girl was there waiting with me. She was about 1.5 and all she could say was Da-Da but super loud. It was cute. She was cute. I smiled. Inside I welled up a bit though. I'm so gd selfish sometimes.

Then another couple comes in with a kid, about 6. I smiled at her, too but cried inside.

WTF? This isn't a gynie's office, what's with the kids? Oh yeah it's Dec 23 and no school. I'm such an idiot.

But it gets better.

I finally get called to see the doc. Yay, it's the one I like, the one who helped me with my shingles. While I'm waiting I look at his bulletin board with a homemade coloring that said Dr. CoolDoctor is the best. There were a bunch of photos of kids and the doc holding various newborns. I'm thinking he might be a gynie or a pediatrician. I didn't ask. I can't ask. Not just yet eh.

He comes in and we're talking and he's looking at my computerized chart and asks a question I haven't been asked in ages and didn't think I would be asked for a while: How many weeks are you?

I'm not mad, just sad. He didn't know he was basically punching me in the stomach with his question... although I swear I told them months ago to take it out of their system that I was pregnant.

I'm not, I replied. I had a missed abortion.

Oh my god, he replied, quickly. And that made me feel even worse. I'm so sorry. And I know he meant it. He's really a nice doctor.

If I was, I'd be like 28 weeks or something. Wow, huh. I think about it - specifically how far along I'd be - every so often. Everyone would know I was pg by now. Everyone. I'd be fat, but pg at least. Ha.

I'd spend Christmas Eve and Day with people doting on me, asking me how I'm feeling, how things are coming along. People would ask about the sex of the baby, names, nursery, etc. OMG it would consume my every waking moment.

But it doesn't cuz I'm not pg. I'm still not going to be a mom.

Holy fuck it's times like this when I wish I didn't insist on writing about everything and getting everything out of me. I know, in the long run, it's quite cathartic, but fuck me does it hurt right now... and it doesn't help that AF decided to visit today.

I'm OK. Just needed to get that out.

How to write your memoir

2008-12-20T13:03:00.002-06:00

Yeah so I'm turning all of this into a memoir - that's the goal, at least. It won't happen over night but I'm already finding it to be so damn cathartic that it's worth it, no matter how long it takes.

Here's an interesting article about writing a memoir I want to remember: article.

All comments are more than welcome.

2008-12-13T09:49:00.006-06:00

Below is a very rough draft of some info I want to include into a memoir I'm hoping to publish one day about early pregnancy loss... this piece is about the fact that I didn't always want to be a mom and how I finally came about to wanting to parent so bad. If you don't get that vibe through this, please let me know. If there are ANY questions or comments - be it about content, form, whatever - please let me know. Please.

I didn’t always want to be a mom. In fact, there was a time when I thought I would truly never get married and never have children because I simply didn’t want my children to have to go through what I did as a child – a product of divorce that occurred between Old World parents, a generation apart, who had no clue how to deal with divorce and their children at the same time.

I was the youngest of three and I’m sure if you were to speak with my older brother and sister, they’d tell you I was the spoiled one. Maybe it started out that way when I was first born in 1972, but I can assure you that it didn’t last that long.

Earliest memories include the whole family: Mama, Papa, Brother, Sister, and myself. Summertime memories are the ones that stick out the most for me. Memories like chasing and capturing fireflies in the early evening while anxiously awaiting the serenade from the ice cream truck; having water balloon fights with all the kids on the street we lived on during the hottest summer days; playing soccer in the alley after dinnertime with other neighborhood kids and waiting for my father to join us with some oranges that he would peel into a fancy chain, leaving us all marveling over how he made the chains while we enjoyed a wedge or two of the oranges; riding mopeds and bikes to the park to play for a while.

Weekends were typically spent traveling in the Ford Granada to the border between our state and the next where my grandparents had bought some land and were building a house. I’d always get stuck in the middle of the back seat and inevitably would end up getting car sick and needing Papa to pull the car off to the side of the road. When making the trek home, we’d always stop off at the McDonald’s closest to our home for cheeseburgers and I can remember always wanting a Big Mac but not being allowed one until I was around 10 or so.

Birthdays and Holidays always brought everyone together. Cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents… wherever we gathered for these special occasions, they were always big gatherings with plenty of food, drink, and laughter and nobody was ever left to be bored.

Life was pretty darn wonderful and very family-oriented.

When I was 9 in 1981, it all changed.

I went from being a very outgoing, mischievous child, to a shy introvert. I went from attending the same private school with the same kids I’d known my whole life, to attending six public schools in the following eight years. I went from having friends everywhere and anywhere I turned, to having one friend. I went from secure and happy, to cold and hungry. And it all happened without any justification which left my young mind and heart wondering, and oftentimes believing, that my parents’ decision to go their separate ways and all that occurred following that decision was because of something I did.

And that’s when I thought I would never get married, I would never have children.

It’s not that I didn’t like kids, it’s that I was so alone and sad and wrapped up in my own cold world that I could never imagine having my own child feeling like that... and because I knew no other and because nothing was ever really explained to me, I assumed that what happened to me would happen to my own children.

I hated my pre-teen and adolescent years. I hated that we lived on food stamps. I hated that there were times, a lot of times, when there was no electricity or heat. I hated that I had to drink milk that was made from powder that came from a big white box with green and black lettering. I hated being perceived as some naïve kid and feeling like there was nothing I could do to escape the life I was living. I hated my life so much that when I was around 14, suicide was on my mind all the time. I just couldn’t see past the misery that enveloped me. And hearing people tell me that I should enjoy life then because it didn’t get any better, certainly didn’t leave me wanting more. Fortunately I found a couple outlets to keep me going to the next day: writing in a journal and Bryan Adams’s music. Writing helped me release some heavy thoughts and Bryan Adams’s music led me to believe that I really wasn’t as alone as I felt.

It was also around that same time that I became an aunt for the first time in June of 1987. My sister, 7 years my senior, had given birth to my oldest nephew, D, a year after getting married while she was in the Air Force stationed in Turkey.

Two and a half years later in October of 1989, when I was 17, my sister gave birth to her second child, a girl. By then, she and her husband were back in the States and my mother flew out to help my sister during the first days of the life of her second child, K. A week later, I followed suit and visited my sister and her family.

And, thankfully, that’s when my life was forever changed again.

As soon as D came running into the room I was sleeping in and climbed into the bed I was sleeping on to visit with his “Aun’ Fish” for the first time in his two years of life, I knew I had a purpose. I knew there was a reason I was in this world.

His innocence, trust, and unconditional love was something that I had never experienced and as soon as he gave me, upon our very first encounter with one another, kisses and hugs and told me the three little words no other person in my world had ever uttered up to that point – I love you – I knew what life was all about. In that one moment, I knew why I hadn’t killed myself two years prior when I felt like there was nothing left for me. I knew that the greatest joy in life, the reason to live, was because of that little boy and what he represented.

That week changed my life and made me realize things I never knew existed: Life was good.

In 1990, I completed high school and started college that fall thanks to financial aid and the fact that my mother didn’t hold very high-paying jobs. I focused all of my energy on school and writing.

In May of 1992, my second nephew, J, was born to my older brother by three years who had recently married and lived nearby. J was the first baby I ever met as a newborn in the hospital on the day he was born. He was also the first newborn left in my care for a couple hours and boy could that child cry when he was hungry or needed a diaper changed!

I was quite content and pretty much in love with being an aunt and while my heart was warming up to the idea of at least opening up to the possibility of being in a relationship with another adult, the thought of having my own children still wasn’t really in the foreseeable future.

That summer I got my first taste of what being a parent might entail when I went to stay with my sister for several months. She needed my help with 5-year-old D and 2½-year-old K as her husband got a new job which he needed to be trained for in another state, so I played mom for what seemed like years although it was only a couple months. It was my first time being around kids for such a long time period, day in and day out, and it pretty much reiterated to me that I did not want children – at least at that point in my life (though I will admit that my thoughts about having children changed from an absolute “never” to a “maybe”).

Although it was a bit of a rough summer, and although I found my very first gray hair on my 20^th birthday that September while I was still playing mom, I wouldn’t trade those months in for anything… Being a part of children learning and growing is a pretty amazing experience!

Nevertheless, I was pretty much ecstatic to leave and get back to being a regular early-twenty-something and threw myself back into college and writing. And after graduating college in 1994, I started opening up my heart toward others again and started spending a lot of time with family – especially nearby family like my brother and his family.

I enjoyed being “Auntie Chris” or “Ga-ga” to 2-year-old J and his big sister (from a prior relationship their mom had) V. I babysat a lot and even if I wasn’t babysitting, I was spending a lot of time at their house. Then when their parents started separating from one another in 1995 my life changed again; I had a new purpose and that purpose was to do whatever I had to do to make sure those kids never felt what I did when I went through what they were about to go through.

I ended up spending the next four years of my life playing surrogate mommy to J because my brother had custodial rights of J and I wanted to help out, so I moved in with them. And while there were some very trying times during those years, they were some of the best years of my life and I feel blessed to have been able to experience what I did.

I was there when J first learned how to ride his bike on his 5^th birthday. No training wheels were ever even attached for this kid! I was the one that taught J how to tie his shoes. I was there to help him read and spell. I was there for all of his school functions – from preschool Holiday plays, to grade school performances. I was at all of his soccer games, cheering on J as he became a mini soccer star in the town we lived. I was there waking up with him every morning and making sure he had a breakfast and got on the school bus and made it to school in time. I was riding bikes with him after school in the summertime or building snowmen in the wintertime. I was there reading stories to him every night before bed.

There were so many days when I wanted to throw in the towel and start living my own life and then I’d come home, unlock that front door, and from up the stairs, I’d hear J yell out to me, “Auntie!!” His little feet pounded against the floor, vibrating the walls, as he rushed toward me to give me a hug.

It didn’t matter what happened that day, when that little boy greeted me each and every day with so much excitement, so much love, so much life… it was all worth it. Everything was worth it to see this child thrive and love life the way he did.

But it also hurt greatly because the fact of the matter was that I was not this child’s parent. He had a mommy and a daddy; he just didn’t get to see them as much as he did me because my brother worked nights and his mommy saw him every other weekend. So when J and I would go out to the store or something and someone would say, “Go ask your mom” or “Is that your mom?” or something relating mom to me, J would quickly answer, “No, that’s my aunt.”

And that’s the truth. I was, and am, his Aunt.

While I knew then that I was just his Aunt, I made a promise to do whatever I could for him, for all of “my kids”, to not endure the pain and heartache I did as a child when my parents divorced. So I pushed through the hurt and focused on the good, and this child deserved so much good, happiness, and joy.

Then when one millennium came to a close and a new one approached with big changes in sight, my life seemed to echo that time and as much as it pained me to leave J, it was time for me to start living life for me. So in January of 2000, at the age of 27, I moved out of my brother and J’s house and into my own apartment.

It was truly one of the most difficult things I ever had to do – to tell an almost 8-year-old boy who had been told by his own mother she was leaving four years prior, that I was leaving, too. The pain and heartache I felt that day was indescribable but I knew that at 27, I needed to start living my own life and start separating myself from my nephew because I truly loved the boy as if he were my own child, and it just wasn’t healthy for either of us.

I don’t have many regrets in my life to date other than not participating enough in life because for much of it – like my teens and early 20s – I felt as if I was just letting things happen instead of making things happen. So now I try to live my life in a way where I’m in control. It’s my life after all, and I’m only given one of them to live so why not try living it to its fullest?

I started realizing all of this when I made the decision to separate myself from J and move into my own place – and that’s the only reason I could go through with it. I loved that boy like no other and wanted nothing more than to stay there and continue helping him and watching him learn and grow. It was one of the greatest honors of my life to be such a part of his life all those years. But I needed to participate more in my own life and that realization is what pushed me into my own place.

Four months later in April of 2000, I met my now husband, S on the internet. God bless the internet! We met in person in June of 2000 and, after meeting and getting along with my first true love of my life, J, we’ve been together ever since.

We were married June 2007. J was our usher; D was my makeup artist; K caught the bouquet, while her baby daughter H, my great-niece, slept in her stroller.

Meeting 2-year-old D that first time nearly 20 years ago saved my life… and “my kids” have been an imperative part ever since. While I’m forever grateful to be blessed with great kids, the need to have one of my own, to parent a child who calls me mom, is so great and it was something S and I discussed very early on in the relationship because I simply couldn’t spend my time with someone who didn’t want to parent.

The quiet one

2008-12-07T10:33:00.003-06:00

Yesterday was interesting.. and it went down better than anticipated.

First up was a Holiday Luncheon party with a bunch of women I've come to love over an internet chat forum, of all places. :) It was awesome and I'm glad I went. Originally I declined the offer because I knew there was going to be several pregnant women there along with a couple newborns and I also had a baby's-already-born-baby shower to attend around the same time.

Anyway, I went to the Luncheon first and it was a blast! Next time we definitely need to reserve a place for longer than three hours. It's just not enough time for 50 women to come together and eat, drink, and be merry.

Unfortunately, I had to leave the luncheon earlier than the rest because of the baby's-already-born-baby shower I needed to attend for a friend who I haven't seen in at least five years, maybe more.

I've known the baby mama for over 20 years now and it was quite a strange trip to go back in time with her and some of her friends who've I've known as well. We didn't spend much time on the past because it was a baby shower for her baby girl, after all.

It was a little odd - the whole shower - but also very nice. My friend's sister really did a great job making the baby mama feel important.

I didn't talk too much, but that's nothing new for me. I also didn't make much eye contact, which I hate noticing. I felt very out of place being the only non-parent in the room. It was very hard when I would think about how every woman sitting at the table chatting away over some chili dip all had given birth. And it was even harder listening to them all talk about what they craved during their pregnancies or listening to little stories about their young ones.

By the grace of god - or something - none of the women I just met asked if I had a child. I'm not sure what I would've done because there were a couple times when I found myself fighting the tears and had to run off to the bathroom.

I left the shower after a couple hours, wanting to leave a couple hours sooner than I did and got stuck in traffic, of course. I called my husband on the way home and told him that I was a bit stressed because for the past seven hours, I was smiling smiling smiling when half the time I wanted to crawl into a hole to escape all the pregnancies and babies around me. I told him it was a bit rough for me and he said, "So you were the quiet one, huh?"

"What?"

"You didn't say much at the shower, did you?" he asked.

"Well, no."

"You were the quiet one. Every party has one and you always wonder why they're so quiet. And now we know why."

Fucker. Made me cry.

When I got home, he was making dinner - a pasta dish. I ranted about this and that and he asked if I was sure I wanted the pasta and said, "I just want you to be happy. I haven't seen much of you today and when I have, you've been miserable. I just want you to be happy."

Sigh.

He was right. I was taking all my frustrations out on him. So I stopped. I whined and ranted and then I let it go... and it wasn't too hard to let go.

I'm OK.

Resolve

2008-11-27T11:58:00.003-06:00

What an awesome, awesome, informative website: resolve.org.

It's about infertility but so much more. In the ten minutes I've been on the site, I feel so much more calm about all of this trying to make a family stuff. Really. Why did it take me so long to find such a tool?

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T09:50:00.004-06:00

Last night, after I stuffed a couple cheeseburgers from White Castle in my mouth, after I couldn't hide the tears, S and I talked. He's not as bad of a listener as he thinks he is and for that I'm thankful. (I'm also thankful for White Castle, but not so much thankful for the vomiting that ensued at about 1:45AM as a result.)

***************************************

Anytime I used to see my my dearly departed grandfather (I miss you so much, Ota!), he would ask me "What's new?" I would inevitably reply with a "Not much," and he would frown and laugh at the same time and shout in his thick accent, "Everything! Everything is new because today's a brand new day!"

Today's a brand new day and Ota was right - everything is new. And today I feel so much better than I did last night and for that I'm extremely thankful for this Thanksgiving morning. (I'm also extremely thankful for the memories and stories I have from of my wonderful Ota, but not so much thankful that he's no longer here.)

Raw, raw, raw and so, so ugly.

2008-11-26T20:14:00.003-06:00

You've been warned (up there in the title - it's about this post and what you might read).

I got my period about four hours ago and I'm not handling it well at all. I didn't cry as soon as I saw the pink on the tissue like I did the first periods after the d&c, but I cried all the way home. Actually, I didn't really physically cry during the drive home because I had to see where I was going, but I cried in my head and my heart and soul. And now I'm sobbing like a bitch and the tears won't stop falling and I can't breathe out of my fucking nose.

I just don't know how much more I can do this.

I really don't understand how others do this and for much longer periods of time. I mean, I *know* there are couples out there that have been trying for years and years to have kids. Some get pregnant and lose their babies. Some never get pregnant. How do they keep at it? How? This is not a rhetorical question! If you've happened to stumble on this, I'm sorry for the negativity, but please tell me *how* you keep doing this. Please!

It's not even fun anymore. I get excited to see egg whites, I tell S about it and he could care less. I'm tired of this. I know he doesn't want this as much as me, but I also know he wants it a little, at least, and I know he loves me and would do anything for me... so why the fuck won't he fuck me more during ovulation?!?

Did I mention this would be a raw and ugly post? Well, yeah, I did. Up there in the motherfucking title is where I mentioned it so if you're disturbed just move on because this is where I come to get it out of my head, get it out of my heart.

I'm fucking sick and motherfucking tired of this. It's just not fun. It actually never was. No, I take that back. It was a little fun and exciting at first, I will admit. But honest to god, after about the first month or so, it wasn't fun anymore.

Yeah, I like me some sex, but this waiting each and every fucking month is for the fucking birds. I can't take it anymore. I can't fucking take it.

And I feel like I'm in a fucking movie... precisely that fucking Baby Mama movie with Tina Fey. I'm the Tina Fey character. Or no, better yet, I feel like I'm in the movie Juno. I'm the Jennifer Garner character. Only there's no Juno character for me to get a baby from.

I don't know. I'm just really tired. And the timing just really sucks. I mean it's Thanksgiving tomorrow and I've been really trying to find something... anything... to be grateful for and just when I think I can do this, I can turn my spirits around and start to be more positive, I turn into a raging bitch because my boobs hurt and I've got cramps that feel like burning and scraping at the same time. And then it comes... my period. And out the window goes any hope for getting pregnant this month.

And once again, I'm left crying and feeling like shit... not because I'm not pregnant, but because I'm still not a mom. And I'm still not going to be a mom. And once again, I'm left wondering why the fuck my husband won't talk to me about adopting.

I just want to be a parent. A parent to a child who calls me Mom or Momma or Mommy and not just Auntie.

Oh god.

This is so, so hard. The holidays are here. It's all about families and good times. That's what it's all about: Life and the holidays - families and good times. I just want to be in the midst of that instead of continuously feeling like I'm on the fucking sidelines cheering everyone else on...

Anyway.

Tomorrow is a new day. A day to give Thanks. And I really really really do have so much to be thankful for; I really do.

Goodnight.

Today's cramps

2008-11-25T16:35:00.002-06:00

... feel very similar to the ones I had following the d&c and that does NOT make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. WTF?!?

I changed my mind

2008-11-24T15:44:00.001-06:00

I don't think I'm pregnant.
I think I'm suffering from a horrific case of PMS.
I feel so completely overwhelmed with irritability right now - and for no fucking reason.
I feel like I could snap at any moment.
I'm almost ready to call a doctor, I'm so edgy right now.
And of course, couple that with cramps and burning/sore boobs and ... LOOK OUT!

Grrrrr.

Confession time

2008-11-24T10:20:00.003-06:00

I've been cramping on and off for over a week. Today my boobs are hurting so much, they're burning a bit.

I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I think I might be... pregnant. It's not impossible for it to happen, after all, and it's something we're definitely wanting to happen again.

I actually broke down to Stephen the other night - about a week ago, I think. He was in the other room on the computer and I was laying on the couch with one of the cats feeling really shitty. I called out to him and asked him to come over to me and before he reached me, I had tears in my eyes and I told him, "I'm terrified, but I think I might be pregnant."

He looked at me and saw that I was crying.

"I'm scared to death, baby," I continued, "because I'm afraid I might be pregnant and I'm afraid I'm not pregnant."

"That's deep," he said, trying to make me laugh.

He sat down next to me and held me for a minute and said, "It's OK to be afraid, but you can't stop living because you're afraid and you can't stop trying to get pregnant because you're afraid. You have to just do it."

He was absolutely right. It *is* OK to be afraid, but just because you're afraid doesn't mean you don't try.

I'm so grateful to be married to his man who loves me so much.

So the rest of the week and the weekend, I've been getting more and more cramps and my boobs have gotten sorer and sorer until this morning when I could barely move they hurt so bad. Just like when I was pregnant.

I realize that these are PMS symptoms (for me at least), but ever since the d&c, I haven't had any cramping or sore boobs prior to getting my period... and now I'm getting them tenfold?!? You can see why I might think I'm pregnant!

I, of course, want to be pregnant again... and up until I spoke with my wonderful husband about my fears, I was terrified of being pregnant again. But not anymore. I'm ready for this. I'm ready for pregnancy. And I'm beyond ready for motherhood.

But like I told Stephen last night, "I'm gonna be hella pissed if I end up getting my period after all this cramping and sore boobs!" What a tease!

For today and the rest of the week, I'm going to keep my eye on the prize and hope that Thanksgiving gives us something to be truly thankful for...

New Blog

2008-11-21T15:52:00.003-06:00

In yesterday's post, I said I was going to change directions with my blog and try to help people understand in a greater fashion that early pregnancy loss is still a loss... but I decided that I can't do that here in this blog because I still need a place to expel my own thoughts regarding my own loss.

So I created a new blog - http://understandingearlyloss.blogspot.com/ - and I'm hoping it can be helpful to someone out there who's suffered a loss, who is going through a loss, or who knows of someone who suffered an early pregnancy loss. It's definitely a brand spanking new blog and a work in progress...

Changing things up a bit.

2008-11-20T11:21:00.001-06:00

When I created this blog, I did so to clear my head and cleanse my heart after suffering a "missed abortion." I didn't want the anger and ugliness that came over me to invade the wonderfulness that filled my previous blog.

Well it's been nearly four months since, and while I use this blog as a crutch of sorts at times, I think it's time to change things up. I want to say more. I want to reach more people if I can. I want this place to be a place that people come to and leave feeling like they have a better understanding of early pregnancy loss, rather than leave feeling sad or pity (or disgust or whatever) for me. I want this to be more than just about me.

I've learned so much over the past four months... about early pregnancy loss, about empathy vs. apathy, about sorrow, pain, sadness, grief, mourning.

I've learned that early pregnancy loss isn't so uncommon.

I've learned that many women who suffer an early pregnancy loss have nowhere to really turn.

I've learned that others who haven't experienced an early pregnancy loss really don't know how to react.

I've learned that people have questions and a lot of them.

I've learned that people deal with loss in different ways.

I've learned so, so much that I just wasn't aware of before all of this happened and I'm wondering why I wasn't aware of it. I am a woman; I am a compassionate, nurturing woman yet prior to my own loss, I really was clueless as to what it was like to endure a pregnancy loss or how to respond to someone who suffered a loss. And I think that sucks!

I just want to do something more with this blog than throw a big pity party for myself… after all, I know I’m not alone in this but I didn’t always believe that.

Check out the poll, please

2008-11-17T11:18:00.004-06:00

I have a poll over there to the right of this post. I want sincere opinions on the matter. My husband has hinted now for several weeks that I should go see our old therapist. Yeah, we've seen a therapist in the past - pre-marriage. And he wants me to go talk to her again. But he says I know how to 'play' them and asks that if I do go, that I don't 'play' her and tell her what she wants to here.

I know he means well but I just don't see the purpose. I'm all for therapy, don't get me wrong... but I know what my 'problems' are, I know where they stem from, I know what I need to do to feel better. I get all that. And while talking to someone usually does help, I just don't see the purpose in spending the money when I can just come here and blog about it.

But who knows.

So what do you think?

Please voice your opinion in the poll. I won't know who you are so don't worry about hurting my feelings.

About yesterday

2008-11-16T11:02:00.006-06:00

Yesterday was a rough day for me. I kind of figured it would be a little rough at times, but it just sucks nonetheless. It was my great-niece's 2nd birthday, and my niece (mom of great-niece) and her mom and step-dad threw a big party for the little Princess Rugrat. :)

At first, I was just really enjoying seeing my little Great-niece and marveling over how much she has learned and how much she absorbs throughout the day. She's an angel, that one, and my niece has no clue how lucky she is.

I remember when my niece was her daughter's age and she was nothing like her in that this little girl is such an incredibly well behaved child. She says Thank You without being coached, she does what is asked of her without throwing a tantrum, and she's just a joy to be around. Not that my niece wasn't a joy to be around... she just wasn't as well-behaved as this one.

I found myself getting a bit choked up at times when I watched her be 2, but the hard part came with the questions/comments: It's your turn now... When are you two having one?... Did you hear that (my SIL) is pregnant?

I realized I spent a lot of time yesterday avoiding eye contact with both the adults and the children. How sad is that?!? I couldn't look into the eyes of the kids because they seriously would melt my heart. I would instantly ache inside and my eyes would instantly well up... so I just wouldn't look into their eyes... the eyes of the most pure innocence there is. And I found I couldn't look into the eyes of the adults because they would start talking about their kids, about being parents, or asking questions about when we would have children.

:(

And now as I type this I realize that aside from my niece's one girlfriend who is 19, my husband and I were the ONLY adults at the party that didn't have children.

Granted that's not a reason to have children - to fit in, but my god is it hard to be submerged in a party atmosphere where you - someone who wants to be a Mom more than anything - are the only non-mother in the room.

Whatever.

I can hear the Charlie Brown (Wah, wah wah wah, wah wah, wah Wah!) comments now: It'll happen... You'll be the best mom and it'll be worth the wait... Your time is coming, you'll see... Don't worry so much... You were already pregnant once so you know you'll get pregnant again.

I get it, I do. And I believe it will happen, too. It's just so fucking hard sometimes.

I got stuck sitting next to one of my aunts yesterday and she not only asked when we would be having kids, but proceeded to tell me that it would happen when I least expected it and that she wasn't even trying to have kids and she had two of them and that her daughter-in-law just suffered another miscarriage and as it turns out she had a natural miscarriage and then two weeks later had to have her other fallopian tube removed because lo and behold she was actually pregnant with twins but they didn't know (!!) and they luckily have two of her eggs frozen from when they first tried IVF and thank god they at least have their one-year old Addi in the meantime. Yes, I believe she told me all of that in one breath.

And while I simply cannot imagine what my cousin in law is going through with her surgeries and whatnot, they are at least blessed with one child already.

I don't have any children.

I am not a mom.

I am not going to be a mom anytime soon.

It's something I have to realize every fucking day of my life. And it's something I have to somehow live with and accept because who knows what tomorrow may bring? So while it may seem like I'm unable to move on, there's a reason for that: I'm still not a parent.

I tried talking to my husband again regarding all of this and regarding when we might look into other options. Personally, I don't really want to look into IVF; I'd rather just looking into adoption. But he refuses to talk to me about it. He shuts down. He tells me that it hasn't been that long and asks why we can't keep trying the old fashioned way. And I tell him that that is fine, that I want to keep trying but that I just want to know of a time when we can start looking into other options... Like we go one more year and if no pregnancy by November 09, we look into IVF or adoption.

And he won't respond.

I finally had to tell him last night that while he's turning 33, I'm 36 already and while that's only 3.5 years difference between us, it's a huge difference when it comes to parenting, in my opinion. If I was 33, I would probably say let's keep trying until 35. But I have NO DESIRE to keep trying until I'm 38! I do NOT want to be giving birth at 40. Why can't he respect that?!?!

And, more importantly, why can't he at least give me SOMETHING? At least tell me if you would want to look into IVF, Adoption, or Nothing. Give me something to look forward to because this taking things day by day is fucking killing me!

Blech.

Yeah, yesterday wasn't the best day for me, but I've certainly had worse. I just have to remember that I am blessed in so many other ways because I truly truly am. Life really is pretty damn good most days.

Better in Time

2008-11-14T12:51:00.003-06:00

My last post was about Leona Lewis's first big hit, Bleeding Love which reminds me of my pregnancy loss and how I instantly well up and cry like a bitch whenever I hear it. This post is also about Leona Lewis, but it's about her second big hit, Better in Time. Another song, oddly enough, that reminds me of my loss - but in a better way, if that's possible.

You can view the video for the song here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrNoDUblAtE

And here are the actual lyrics:

(Ooooh)

It's been the longest winter without you
I didn't know where to turn to
See somehow I can't forget you
After all that we've been through

Going coming thought I heard a knock
Who's there no one
Thinking that I deserve it
Now I realize that I really didn't know
If you didn't notice you meant everything
Quickly I'm learning to love again
All I know is I'm gon' be ok

[Chorus:]
Thought I couldn't live without you
It's gonna hurt when it heals too
It'll all get better in time
Even though I really love you
I'm gonna smile cause I deserve to
It'll all get better in time

I couldn't turn on the TV
Without something there to remind me
Was it all that easy
To just put aside your feelings

If I'm dreaming don't wanna laugh
Hurt my feelings but that's the past
I believe it
And I know that time will heal it
If you didn't notice boy you meant everything
Quickly I'm learning to love again
All I know is I'm gon' be ok

[Chorus:]
Thought I couldn't live without you
It's gonna hurt when it heals too
It'll all get better in time
Even though I really love you
I'm gonna smile cause I deserve to
It'll all get better in time

Since there's no more you and me
It's time I let you go
So I can be free
And live my life how it should be
No matter how hard it is I'll be fine without you
Yes I will

[Chorus: x2]
Thought I couldn't live without you
It's gonna hurt when it heals too
It'll all get better in time
Even though I really love you
I'm gonna smile cause I deserve to
It'll all get better in time

Once again it's pretty pointless to bold the parts that hit home the most as the entire song does... And now "I'm gonna (do my best to) smile cuase I deserve to."

Bleeding Love

2008-11-14T12:33:00.004-06:00

Leona Lewis's Bleeding Love was very popular around the time I became pregnant...and since I knew of my pregnancy for only 4 weeks, the song was still quite popular after the D and C. Therefore, I heard the song a lot during my pregnancy and after the surgery and since it's a song about heartbreak and loss of a relationship, I connected with the song and every time I heard it, I cried and cried and cried. It didn't matter where I was - in the car, at home, at work. Four months later, it still makes me cry because it brings me back to those days in late July, early August 2008.

You can view the video here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sF84pIhP5UM

And here are the lyrics:

Closed off from love
I didn't need the pain
Once or twice was enough
And it was all in vain
Time starts to pass
Before you know it you're frozen

Ooooh...

But something happened
For the very first time with you
My heart melted into the ground
Found something true
And everyone's looking 'round
Thinking I'm going crazy

Chorus:
But I don't care what they say
I'm in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open
Oooh, oooh...

Trying hard not to hear
But they talk so loud
Their piercing sounds fill my ears
Try to fill me with doubt
Yet I know that their goal
Is to keep me from falling

Hey, yeah!

But nothing's greater
Than the rush that comes with your embrace
And in this world of loneliness
I see your face Yet everyone around me
Thinks that I'm going crazy
Maybe, maybe

Chorus:
But I don't care what they say
I'm in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the vein
That I keep on closing
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open

And it's draining all of me
Oh they find it hard to believe
I'll be wearing these scars
For everyone to see

I don't care what they say
I'm in love with you
They try to pull me away
But they don't know the truth
My heart's crippled by the pain
That I keep all closed in You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open and I

Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
I keep bleeding
I keep, keep bleeding love
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love
You cut me open and I
Keep bleeding
Keep, keep bleeding love

Christ. I tried bolding what hit home to me and I guess I might as well have bolded the whole damn thing...

Not giving up!

2008-11-09T18:19:00.003-06:00

S and I were just discussing the bullshit that seems to have invaded our lives in regards to people getting pregnant and popping out babies left and right.

"Are you telling me you've given up?" S asked.

"About having a child?" I asked in return. "About becoming a mom?"

"Yes, it sounds like you've just given up."

"No, I haven't given up," I spat. "I will never give up to becoming a mom!"

And I won't. Ever.

It's just very frustrating some times... but I know I will make a wonderful mom and I know a child will be blessed to have us both as parents. And it's that knowledge that leads me to believe that I WILL become a mom.

It's just taking longer - much longer - than anticipated. I mean, hell, most people who think about having kids think about being done with having kids by my age. And here we are just starting out. It just sucks sometimes, that's all... but I won't ever give up on it.

What a week!

2008-11-09T13:12:00.004-06:00

This first week of November has been quite an eventful one to say the least. It started out tremendously well with the new President-elect being named Barack Obama. I can't ever remember a time in my 36 years when I've felt so proud to be an American. And while I know that I'm not alone in that matter, the voices of those that feel very differently, sadly enough, have been quite loud, too... including some in my own family (specifically my SIL, married to my own brother).

But I have confidence that Obama will prove all the naysayers wrong and really make this country shine again... and I cannot wait! And I'm so immensely proud to have been a part of it all.

That's the good stuff from the week. And it really is so incredibly good, thankfully.

But then things took a turn for the worse... personally speaking, and all I can say is that it's a damn good thing I've been in a much better place regarding my loss three months ago or I would've had a bigger meltdown today than I did.

It started with an email I got on election day Tuesday from my grandmother's cousin's daughter in Europe. She's a couple years younger than me, been married for several years, has two young boys. She told me she was pregnant again, this time with a girl, due in March (when I was due). She seems happy so I'm happy, but seeing March as the due date was very unexpected and it stung a little.

I couldn't respond to the email right away but did the next day, which was the same day one of my friends' baby shower invites came in... my friend whose husband never wanted to have children. Sigh.

Then on Friday I learned that my old boss's 21 year old daughter was expecting a baby. In March. Double Sigh. (Friday was an even worse day because it marked the three year anniversary of the day my nephew - brother's son whom he has no contact with - moved out of my brother's house and in with his mother, ultimately starting the demise of his young life, and, coincidentally enough, November 7th marked the three year anniversary of the day my dear Grandfather passed away. It's a day I will never forget no matter how much I wish I could.)

But the kicker to the whole week was the news I learned last night. Apparently my racist SIL, married to my brother who hasn't had contact with his one and only biological child in well over a year, is pregnant.

I cried after I found out. The tears flew out of my eyes for several minutes, while the ugly thoughts ran through my head and seeped into my heart: I don't understand why I'm not a mom yet. Am I not meant to be a mom? Was I put here just to be an aunt?

Believe me when I say these are thoughts that have invaded my mind during more occasions than just last night and this morning, but last night and this morning, the thoughts consumed me again.

It hurts so much to know that there are people - every single day - giving birth to children they or their partners never wanted. It hurts me so much to know that my SIL and brother are expecting another child, when the two she has have no contact with their different dads and the one he has he has no contact with.

Why do these people get to have children? Why do these people get to be called Mom and Dad? And why don't I get to have a child? Why don't I get to be called Mom?

I finally told S what's been going on. He listened and tried to rationalize it all, which I appreciated and needed. And he made me realize that it really is probably a good thing I lost the baby at the end of July - specifically because of how sick I was in October with the ear infection and shingles in my mouth. He did his best to make me believe again that things really do happen for a reason.

And I just really, REALLY have to believe in that - that there's a reason everything has happened the way it has and, more importantly, that I will get to be a Mom when the time is perfect.

Ghost Whisperer, Loss, Empathy

2008-11-02T08:26:00.008-06:00

I was watching Ghost Whisperer Friday night. It was a new one. The main character, Melinda (Jennifer Love Hewitt) is trying to get pregnant ... in addition to her ghostly duties, of course. The show is making it seem as if she and her husband have been TTC for a good five months or so and the episode before Friday's left the viewer wondering if the tired, dizzy, and nauseous Melinda was indeed knocked up.

Friday's episode opened with her in a doctor's office gown sitting on a doctor's table with her husband dressed in his paramedic's uniform standing behind her. The doctor comes in and tells her that she is not pregnant and she and her husband Jim agree. "We figured that out after the 10 negative pregnancy tests," Melinda whimpers.

She tries not to get too emotional, Jim tries to comfort his wife.

The doctor tells them that they should worry less because they indeed were pregnant, but it didn't stick, and that he was going to run some tests and they would figure out what happened and what they can do in the future to assure she gets pregnant and stays pregnant.

I wasn't happy with this because why would she get 10 negative HPT's? Wouldn't her beta's or whatnot have registered on the HPT's even if she had recently m/c'd too? And wow, her doctor rocks to be running tests and shit with her first and only m/c, after only trying for five months to get pregnant. All while people like me - in the real world - have to endure two or more m/c's before a doctor will look further into things. But it's a television show and at least they're trying to approach the subject.

The remainder of the show carried on, with a few moments throughout where Melinda was touched by the love two mother's were showing. Then the closing of the show: Melinda comes home and tearfully tells Jim that she saw these mother's love their child so incredibly much even though they knew that the child they were loving and raising wasn't biologically theirs. She then asks Jim if he would consider Adoption should they not be able to conceive and he says that he of course would consider it but that he ran into the doctor. And poof, the doctor prescribed some hormone drug that Melinda will take and will allow the baby to stick next time. They smile and tears are in their eyes and they hug and the show ends.

Because it's as simple as that. Ack!

I was happy to see a show touch on this subject. It's nice to see some reality out there. But hot damn, it sucks they have to make it seem like you just take a pill and everything is going to be OK.

Sure I'm a little sensitive about it all but with as common as miscarriages are these days, it would be nice if more women who endure them were able to believe and realize that they aren't some sort of freak show or something. And it might help with others who've never dealt with miscarriage or a loss to be more empathetic towards those of us who've gone through it. Because if there's one thing I've learned the past three months regarding pregnancy loss vs. people who haven't experienced it is that telling someone you are sorry and saying that you feel for them is not the same as being empathetic; saying it out loud doesn't matter when every other thing you do implies that saying it once is enough for someone who's had a loss to move on.

I can understand that some people who haven't endured a loss (at any stage) might view an early loss as something that isn't as ... painful (or whatever)... than that of an actual baby loss. I can understand that. I mean I certainly cannot - for one minute - completely fathom what it's like to give birth to a child, to be able to hold a child, look at him, touch him... and then lose him. I cannot fathom. I cannot pretend to fathom. And my heart aches just thinking about it; however, that doesn't mean that those of us who've suffered a loss at a much earlier stage don't endure pain, too.

And that's what I think some people think about... I think they think that since the baby wasn't fully formed and/or born, it must be easier for us to heal.

Well, it's not.

We all deal with pain and loss differently. I think most of us as human beings can appreciate that.

I don't know what my point is exactly. :(

I guess in my disappointment with some people who I'm extremely close with and who knew of my loss, I was hoping for a little more empathy than one, "I'm so sorry." Yeah, I'm sure you were sorry but just because you never mention it again doesn't mean I'm suddenly OK with everything. How hard is it - despite what's going on in your own life - to ask every so often how someone is when you know they've gone through something rough?

I know it's not a comfortable subject. I get that you don't want someone to hurt even more by bringing something up that was painful. But you don't have to. You don't have to even mention the loss; I promise! Just simply send an email asking how the person is doing, asking what they've been up to. And don't make it about you. Just one email, one phone call a week or a month - and make it about them. That's empathy... showing someone else that you care about them, that you're there to listen to them, that you want to help ease some pain without making it about you.

And that can really impact someones life.

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

Please note that I'm not trying to be passive aggressive with this post. I'm in a much better place these days regarding my loss, regarding moving my life forward. I think it's because of this that I'm able to write more freely and openly regarding what it was like to endure a miscarriage - and go through it basically alone. I've always been a very private person, always lacking trust in others. So it's not uncommon for me to keep all of this to myself, to work through all of this on my own. That's a part of who I am and I do not blame any one person for this fact about myself. I do not ask for help, I try to do it on my own.

That said, I realize this post may reflect that not one person was there for me the past three months... and that is the farthest thing from the truth. While there were a couple key people in my life that have never really mentioned the loss since they found out, for the most part, everyone else who knew tried to reach out to me on more than one occasion. And it's because of those people that I was able to learn that it may be about time that I let some of my guard down... that it's OK to show some vulnerability at times.

I hate being neglectful

2008-10-30T13:23:00.004-05:00

...and I'm noticing I've been neglectful not only here, but with people in my life, too.

I realize that I have a tendency to write more when I'm down - or really up. When I'm somewhere in the middle, I usually don't write so much... I guess cuz I think there's nothing much to say, or because I'm OK with the thoughts swimming in my head.

I don't know, really. It is what it is.

And aside from the lack of blogging, I've come to realize that I've been neglectful to some friends and family. I don't like this, but I think I know why I've been this way recently and I'm hoping that I can accept the reasons or at least move on from them.

The past three months (exactly) have been very trying for me. I've learned a lot - about myself and about others... more so than I thought was possible to learn in such a short time. I've learned who my real friends are. I've learned who is strong in my life and who is weak. I'm not faulting anyone, I'm just saying my eyes have been opened. And it's with this opening that I've become a little more guarded with some, while opening up even more to others.

I've learned that it's OK to be vulnerable and, more importantly, it's OK that others know your vulnerability... that's what allows others to shine in your life or, sadly, disappear. At least that's what happened with me.

It's a lot to process, really. And while I've accepted a lot of this and learned from it, I'm not exactly sure how I'm supposed to proceed from here. Do I tell some who have greatly disappointed me, that they disappointed me? What if they are going through some trying times of their own? Is it right of me to add even more onto that? I don't think so. I understand where they're at, I just really am disappointed at how they chose to deal with things. It's very sad to me. But if I've learned one thing in my life over the past 10 years or so, it's that I cannot control any one's behaviors, actions, reactions, etc but my own. And I have to remind myself of this every single day - sometimes several times a day.

That being said, while I've learned a lot about people the past three months, I'm choosing to accept it as a learning experience of my own and move on. I vow to not let those lessons interfere with my love for these people and I will continue to show them that I am here and I care about what happens to them. We are all just human after all. I just am not sure how much of myself I may give to them anymore.

So maybe I'm not moving on? Ah, life. :)

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

In other news, I'm pretty sure I got my period. I've been cramping on and off all week and today, it's pretty much been an all day thing... and then there's the brown stringy discharge I had earlier. It's not a full on waterfall of blood, but I'm sure by this time tomorrow it will be.

And I'm OK with this! Woot, woot! This is the first time in three months that I haven't had a complete breakdown as a result of that bloody whore, Flo. This excites me so, so much.

I really feel like the ugliness is finally leaving me. It was so fucking heavy, too that I can't even begin to describe how relieved I am that it's gone.

I feel like me again. And gosh darnit, I like me. :)

Alex

2008-10-27T10:59:00.004-05:00

So yesterday S and I were both on our computers (yes, we each have our own. What can I say? S is a computer guy so there's no way he's gonna share his computer with me) at home in the "office" (the second bedroom)... I was playing some clicky game and he was doing his thing when all of a sudden he said, "I was thinking I like the name Alexander and there's none in my family."

S's parents both are one of 11 children and I believe all of their siblings have at least one child so there's a LOT of people in his family.

"What do you think of the name?" he asks after a second.

"Actually," I said, "Oma's father's name was Alexander and David[one of my nephews]'s middle name is Alexander."

"So then your grandmother will be happy if we name our child Alexander... and if it's a girl, she could be Alexandra."

"But can we call him Alex or Zander or something?" I asked.

"We can call him whatever sticks," he replied...This coming from the man that said he hates when people name their child one name, just to call it by a nickname version of it.

"Well I hate Lexi," I said.

It was a funny, albeit a little odd conversation, actually. Mainly because it was completely out of the blue.

And when I asked him what possessed him to talk of the name at that moment he said, "Well, of all the times we've discussed names, I never really told you that I really liked the name Alexander and I just wanted to see if you liked it."

I love that man. He makes me smile so much.

And this is what our child would look like... according to makemebabies.com:

Heh. :)

We're ready again

2008-10-23T11:02:00.004-05:00

The past two weeks has been good for me in regards to the whole baby thing. I was so sick that I was unable to be on the computer much which kept me away from a lot of the baby stuff out there. And there's a LOT of it out there.

I feel real good about stuff. I'm back to liking who I am. I'm back to liking to hear about baby stuff. And that makes me feel fantastic. Jealousy is SO ugly after all.

Last night I was in bed watching some tv and S came into the room. "Tierre sent pictures of the baby!"

I jumped out of bed and followed him to the computer where he showed me pictures of baby Micah laying on his mommy's chest and belly while she smiled at the camera. Baby Micah's tiny mouth was ajar while his eyes were closed tightly. He looked like an angel, a gift from above.

S and I sat there and looked at the two pictures for about 30 seconds, both of us with huge smiles on our faces. I studied S for a moment and felt such warmth. He's going to make a good Daddy some day and I can see he's wanting it more and more with each passing day.

Our time is coming soon... and I can't wait.

I'm alive!

2008-10-21T11:00:00.002-05:00

Wow has it been a crazy week and a half. Last Sunday, Oct 12, S and I were playing Bingo with my mom for her birthday. I felt off the whole day - like I was stoned (actually I had experienced the stoned feeling in waves that whole week). I tried enjoying the feeling but I couldn't because it was very odd, and a couple times I got queasy too. While I experienced something similar when I got pregnant, I knew that this was different.

I didn't go to work on Monday the 13th to try to sleep it off. Tuesday my left jaw and below it were all swollen and tender. I went to work, but went to the doctor, too. Turns out I had an ear infection and very swollen glands.

Tuesday was also my dad's 75th birthday and I couldn't cancel dinner out with him. I couldn't because it was HIS day. So I went and froze to death and had a miserable time, but smiled all the way through dinner. I won't have my dad with me forever, after all.

I got home Tuesday night and collapsed into the bed. Wednesday I woke and went through chills and sweats, chills and sweats. I didn't have an appetite but kept as much water down as I could.

Thursday was very much the same as Wednesday only I couldn't talk. I had some sores in my mouth that were big and very painful. I couldn't eat ANYTHING other than liquids - and even that was extremely painful.

Friday, S stayed home and drove me to the doctor. I had SHINGLES. IN MY MOUTH! Even the doctor seemed a bit disturbed by this. I guess we all carry the virus in us but it usually doesn't come out unless there's some harsh trauma or something. And I guess my earache and swollen glands brought out the shingles.

Oh god! I couldn't brush my teeth or anything. I was so weak from not eating. All I could do was lay in the bed.

Saturday I did leave the house to go see JERSEY BOYS. It was my dad's gift and there was no way I could not go... and I'm so glad I went. Yes I was pretty miserable but my dad had a blast - and that meant everything to me. As soon as we dropped off my dad, we came home and I went to bed.

Sunday I was in bed all day watching Lifetime Movies.

Monday/yesterday I had a doctor's appointment and was so tired from the visit that I came home and went to bed. (I lost 10 pounds though!)

I'm feeling better as far as the earache and swollen glands are concerned (my glands were so swollen last week that I had to put a heating pad on them!), but the shingles are still there. :( The sores have subsided a great deal thanks to Valtrex, the blue pill for Herpes, but it's still very difficult to eat anything and it still hurts a great deal if anything touches the sores.

But I'm getting there and I expect by Friday, I'll be enjoying some big old cheeseburger and boy can I not wait!

Honestly I have no clue how this would've all worked had I still been pregnant. I'd be four months along... I'm not sure I would've been able to take the Valtrex and the antibiotic that I'm on! Scary thoughts, to be honest. Or what if we already had a child? I could barely gather the strength to go the the bathroom let alone take care of another little person! Cannot imagine.

I also couldn't imagine surviving the week without S. That man is my rock. And I cannot wait to finally put my mouth all over him again.

"That One" is THE ONE!

2008-10-10T10:21:00.001-05:00

The Focus Post

2008-10-09T09:07:00.003-05:00

I like when I'm not PMSing.
I like when I'm not bleeding.
I feel so much more in control and so much less angry and... pathetic.
It's nice.

One of S's close friends is a new daddy of a little boy: Micah Caden. I love the name Micah. A lot. I went out yesterday and got a couple little things for Micah so that S can give it to his friend when he sees him next. I'd like to see Micah for myself, but it's probably best I don't just yet. Honestly, I think I'd totally cry if I had the chance to hold a newborn. In fact, thinking of holding him was the only time I got a little teary this time... but I don't think it was due to jealousy or anger; it was a good teary. I think.

Like I said, I like when I'm not PMSing or when I'm not bleeding. I like who I am during these few weeks a month.

I also feel more ... hopeful ... during these days. Like I can see myself getting k/u soon and having a healthy pregnancy and healthy baby.

I need to focus on these feelings when I am PMSing or bleeding; therefore, this will become the Focus Post and hopefully next time - if there is a next time - I get all down and plain ugly, I can come back here and realize that it's just the hormones talking and that I really am not an ugly, selfish, jealous, pathetic person.

About sex

2008-10-07T08:19:00.003-05:00

We've been together for 8.5 years.
We're in our 30s.
We only have sex once, maybe twice a month.
I used to be bothered by that because I really, really enjoy sex.
Since the D and C, however, I've noticed that I don't care for sex the way I used to.
It doesn't bother me that we don't have sex too often.
And when we do have sex, I do not enjoy it. I can't seem to orgasm anymore.
I'm not sure if it's in my head or if it's because of the surgery.
I haven't revealed this to my husband because I don't want him to think I don't like sex with him anymore.
I hope I start liking it again soon.

How I've been feeling about other people's baby news lately

2008-10-06T16:19:00.003-05:00

;) ;D :P

Totally losing it - my mind, that is.

2008-10-06T13:23:00.003-05:00

I might have to tell one of my oldest friends that I miscarried.

FUCK!

See this friend I talk of... we go way back. She befriended me in 8th grade in 1986. "B" was the only one to become my friend that year (it was a new school for me as my mother shockingly moved me yet again). She would call me her best friend after a couple months, but I never trusted anyone enough to call them my best friend. Pathetic, yes but I digress.

We remained close friends for almost 20 years - even through all of my moves and new schools. Then about 6 years ago, we lost touch. Just like that. Poof, no more contact. I tried emailing and calling a couple times but after absolutely no acknowledgement, I moved on.

Last year I found her sister on Myspace and through her, B and I eventually reconnected and I soon learned that she was moving to Europe with her boyfriend and shortly after she moved, I learned that she actually was married to her boyfriend. About a month after the move, we started emailing more regularily and a couple months after that, I learned that B was having a baby - due this October.

The news shocked me a little... not just because of my need to become a Mom, but more so than that, it was the story behind her pregnancy that shocked me the most: her husband never wanted to have children but wasn't always careful so oops she became pregnant.

She said some other things that really stung - basically making it seem like having babies and/or getting married is all a competition. For some, yes, that may be the case, but please do not lump me into that sum of ignorant people.

I moved on - as I often have done in the past.

B had her baby girl several weeks ago. They're both healthy and doing well. B and her husband and the baby will be moving back next month. And while a part of me is happy because we'll be able to spend time together in person again, a part of me is dreading this... especially after her latest comment of "You need to have a baby so we can have play dates."

Um... yeah.

On top of all that, one of our mutual friends, who was originally B's friend, is 12 weeks pregnant. So I can just imagine getting together with them - one with child and one with an out of womb baby, and me.

Sounds fun and delightful for a SANE person but as I discussed in my last post, I think I'm going insane or am already there.

UGH.

I don't know what my fucking point with all this is really.

Saturday

2008-10-04T09:13:00.002-05:00

I was laying in bed earlier thinking how I was going to come in here and post about how crazy and different my mind works during different times of the month... how if I'm bleeding or about to bleed, I'm very emotional and a bit irrational and how when I'm just done bleeding I'm pretty fucking happy and content.

But instead of coming in here and writing that, I checked my email and found one sitting there from a friend of a friend whom I haven't heard from since I got my BFP. I didn't tell her I got my BFP so I didn't ever have to tell her about the D and C. So she didn't know anything... but her email to me told me something: she's pregnant. 12 weeks today.

And the news of her pregnancy and her exhaustion and her nausea stung me.

Goddamnit why can't I just be happy for people?!?!

And then instead of coming here and posting, I go to a message board I frequent and see a pic of a newborn baby that one of the girls just had and all these wonderful posts to her about being a mom and .... once again .... I just lost it and instead of out and out crying like the little whiny bitch that I am these days, I finally came here to write.

But then my husband heard me typing away and asked if there was something I wanted to talk about and I said NO. Because I really don't. I HATE feeling like this. I HATE feeling ... jealousy or whatever the fuck it is because someone else is having a good pregnancy or because someone else just became a mom.

Instead of taking believing me when I said NO, he came in here and saw that I was crying and hugged me and wouldn't let go. So I let it alllllllllll out to him. His shoulder caught all my tears and snot as I just let it all out. Every bit of it. And I cried and cried while he just continued to hug me.

I feel a little better now.

But is this what it's going to be like until I become a mom? Because if it is, I think I might totally lose my fucking mind first.

WTF?

2008-10-02T10:22:00.003-05:00

So ever since the fucking D and C, my periods have come from nowhere (PMS symptoms of sore boobs and cramping have disappeared) and have been heavier, longer, and more painful than ever before.

WTF is that all about?

Not only can I not tell when I'm getting it these days, but when I do get it, it's practically debilitating. Today is day four of heavy bleeding, horrible cramping, and painful backaches.

This fucking sucks. Not only did I lose a pregnancy, but now I have to have worse periods than ever before. Uh huh, makes perfect sense to me.

Hot damn

2008-10-01T10:52:00.001-05:00

I feel so much better after getting all that out of me...

or maybe the drugs are wearing off a bit.

Ugliness

2008-10-01T10:30:00.003-05:00

I should not be feeling like this.

I should not be feeling like this. I should not be feeling like this. I should not be feeling like this!

I just found out that someone I know is in labor. She’s having a baby. She’s having her and her husband’s baby. She’s becoming a mom. And while I’m truly happy and excited for her, I’m also crying. Literally crying! And they are not tears of joy or excitement.

I’m so ugly right now.

I have horrific cramps, I feel like I’m going to bleed everywhere, I feel like I’m going to vomit, and I’m in tears because someone else is becoming a mom.

I’m so ugly!

I took some more pain killers when I found out. Pain killers left over from the D and C.

I was trying not to take the pain killers because I really don’t want to get addicted… but then I found out someone else was becoming a mom so I took them.

Piss poor reason, really.

They didn’t make me feel better. In fact, I think I feel more depressed than ever.

I hate feeling like this… and I don’t know what ‘this’ is per say. Is it jealousy, anger, sadness? All of it? None of it?

I keep thinking about my age, too and that doesn’t help matters. I’m closer to 40 than I am to 30. I don’t want to be an old mom. My dad is 75 and it hasn’t been easy dealing with him and he was 39 when I was born. I don’t want to be a burden to my child in 30 years. Motherfucker this wasn’t supposed to go down like this. None of it was supposed to happen this way.

My whole fucking life hasn’t gone the way it was supposed to.

I love my life, don’t get me wrong. I love life, period. But I’m just so incredibly motherfucking tired of watching things happen for others that should be happening to me. I deserve the things I want. I paid my dues.

When is it my turn?

I’m so fucking ugly right now and I fucking hate it.

I need to get a grip. I need to get over the fact that I’m not a mom yet and just BELIEVE that I will become one soon. I really need to believe again. I need to let go of the negativity and focus on the positivity:

I’m alive.
I’m relatively healthy.
I have a wonderful husband who loves me so, so much.
It’s a beautiful time of year.
I’m an aunt to some amazing kids, most of whom are functioning grown adults.
I’m a great aunt to a beautiful almost 2-year-old angel.
I have a job.
I have a roof over my head and a working car.
I have food on the table.
I have lots of love inside to give.
I love myself.
I like myself.
Life is so good. It’s so, so good.
And I know my time to be a mom will come. It will. It must. I have to believe. I have to.

(I just wish I wasn’t so ugly right now)

Are you kidding me?

2008-09-29T14:20:00.004-05:00

I just went to the bathroom and what is on the tissue after I wipe? Blood. WTF? No, really: What. the. fuck?!?!?

It's only been 24 days since the last time that bitch came to town and I'm getting it again? Can't I have 4 more days of no tampons and cramps?!? Where's the warning? Where's the unbearable sore boobs and cramps that make me keel over for a week or two? Where's the extreme irritability?

Do I have to start fucking temping again to know when this bitch will show up?!

UGH.

Why am I blogging about this? Why, after well over 20 years of menstruating every single motherfucking month, am I complaining this month?

Because for the second month in a row, AF has caught me completely off guard. And even though I really thought I tried not getting my hopes up to *not* getting AF and having to POAS and getting a BFP, apparently my hopes were up high again because ONCE AGAIN this little bitch cried like the little bitch that she is. Who the fuck CRIES when they get their period?!

God, I'm so sick of this. I'm so, so sick of this.

I'm sick of the tears, the heartache, the emptiness, the pity parties. I'm sick of feeling like this! And just when I think I'm taking one step forward, I end up taking two steps back and it's infuriating!

My dad's 75th birthday

2008-09-27T11:53:00.004-05:00

I've been feeling these shooting-like pains in my boobs for several days now. Maybe even a week or so. It's the same type of pains that I got before my BFP in early July. I've been trying not to get my hopes up too high, but I did tell S last night about them after he tried playing Squishy Ball with my boobs. He said that maybe we got it this time and things are working again in there.

Maybe.

I've also been feeling really ... odd lately. Like dizzy. And that, too, happened last time. But I've been feeling this... odd ... feeling for about a month so I think it has nothing to do with possibly being pregnant, but rather with stress and my blood pressure.

Oh and the fact that I can't stop eating like a 5 year old.

Poo.

In other news, I was planning to send my dad to Texas for his birthday. He'll be 75 in two and a half weeks or so. It's a big deal in my opinion; a big birthday. I wanted to do something special for him, something that could compete with his 65th and 70th birthday when we threw him surprise parties.

He won't be getting a surprise party this year, though. I refuse to be the family fucking coordinator that I've been in years past. Instead I'll worry about me and my gift to him and let the other narcissistic fuckers in the family deal with their own gifts... if they even remember it's his 75th.

Yeah so the plan was to send him to Texas because it's warm down there, which is good for his arthritis, and because my brother/his son is down there. So I coordinate the dates with my brother and we're all set to go but I didn't book the flight because of Ike. Even when I learned Ike didn't damage their home or property, I still didn't book the flight.

I must've known my dear brother would flake on me.

He emails me yesterday telling me that when Dad is down there, he (brother) can't take any time off of work because it's a new job and that I might want to look into renting him a small car so he won't be stuck inside the whole time. Um... fantastic. Cuz I can afford $350 for air plus a rental. Thanks for taking care of *something* asshat. I emailed him back and told him that I hadn't booked the flight yet and maybe I would wait until the winter holidays to send him. Brother emails back saying that that would probably be best because he and his little family are "FLAT" broke. Poor fucking baby. Maybe if your wife got off her ass and, I don't know, found a job, you wouldn't be so broke! Grrrr.

So I was pretty steamed because, like always, it boiled down to money - or lack of - with my brother, but he had to go about it in a completely assinine way. Fucker. Loser. Bastard.

I stewed for awhile yesterday over this because, like I said earlier, I really wanted to make my dad's 75th birthday special.

When I got home from work, it dawned on me that the thing he really wants is to spend time with people. He wants that all the time because he lives alone. But he's also *quite* cantankerous these days and frankly, I can't stand to be around him half the time because of it. Sad, I know - especially because I really do love and adore my father.

Anyway, I thought What the hell can we do to spend time with him, but make it something he'll really remember, something that will really stick out for him when he thinks of this 75th birthday?

I hopped online and surfed the net a bit before it hit me: JERSEY BOYS!

My dad loves old school music. Hell, he loves *anything* old school these days! So why not take him to dinner and then to go see Jersey Boys?!?

I look to see when they're in the area and lo and behold, there's a show on his actual birthday. But it's a 7:30 show, which means both S and I would have to ensure that we be able to pick up my dad by 6 to ensure we find parking, etc. Plus it's a 2 1/2 hour show and that's pretty late for a school night.

So S and I decided that we'll take the old man out for dinner to Red Lobster (because he's been talking about going for awhile now) on his actual birthday, Oct 14th and give him his ticket to the show for that weekend, and then we'll all go see a matinee of Jersey Boys that Saturday. So he'll end up seeing us twice in one week.

So $280 (fuck me, right?) later, I'm finally set with - what I hope to be - a great 75th birthday gift to my old man.

I wanted to add the whole, Are you ready to be another grandfather to the mix, but sadly, that won't be happening for his 75th birthday. I just pray it happens in his lifetime.

2008-09-24T21:42:00.002-05:00

Just when I thought that I was completely over the D&C and the fact I'm no longer pregnant and no longer going to be a Mom-to-be, I see something on TV that makes me react in a way that freaks out (me and) my wonderful husband.

We both played hooky today and after we did our laundry, we sat in front of the TV and enjoyed some fish and chips. On the TV was some show called The Doctors (I guess it's some Dr. Phil spin-off or something).

We didn't catch the whole episode and turned it on when they were discussing unhealthy food choices made by middle school kids. Then they went on to discuss hysterectomies. Yeah, I thought that was an odd transition, too.

So this woman, 42, goes on the show to tell them that she's terrified of getting a hysterectomy but that because of family history and the fact that she's got 4 kids - all delivered via c-section, her doctor is suggesting she get one.

They discuss the different kinds of hysterectomies - partial, full, whatnot. Then they bring on this Back to the Future type of machine that enables them to perform a certain hysterectomy with this robot and with minimal incisions and a faster recovery.

One of the doctor's asked the doctor representing the machine/robot a question about how they would get the uterus out after it was cut and then the doctor rep starts talking about how they would stick "something" (she named it the actual name but I don't recall the name and the host-doctor asked her to explain what the "something" actually was) in - basically like a rotor router (!!) that would cut up the uterus and then pull it out through the vagina.

I'm not sure why exactly, but their description just put me back to July 30th and I was laying on the gurney with both arms spread out and strapped down, naked under a thin sheet again. In about two seconds I relived the experience of the ice cold room and feeling completely lost; I experienced the nurses asking me to move my butt to fit better into the table's hole where I imagine they stuck something up into me and sucked out the embryo; I experienced waking up when it was all over feeling some of the worst cramps and knowing it was all over.

As fast as the words came out of the TV, the tears welled.

I couldn't stop crying - so much so that I did the angry cry... where I hold my breath and just shake in slow motion. S was next to me and asked what was wrong and just hugged me. And finally after I could breathe, I had to tell him that for some stupid reason, I was brought back to the surgery.

Uck!

Adoption

2008-09-17T12:56:00.004-05:00

When I was younger and old enough to start thinking about being a parent one day, I originally didn't want to become one. I thought that there was no way I could bring a child into this world only for him to feel what I felt growing up. But as time progressed and nephews and nieces were brought into my world, I began to truly appreciate the gift that a child really is and I began to think about my future as a Mom. Some days I would want it more than others and as the years progressed even more, the yearning turned more into a definite need.

I need to be a Mom.

That need led me to start thinking about Adoption. And for years now I always thought that I would definitely consider adopting should I not be able to have a child of my own.

But why do I have to wait to "make sure" that there's no hope for birthing a child from own womb? Why do all the websites I visit talk about people deciding to adopt because they're infertile? I realize that many people do choose adoption as a last straw, but why?

I don't want to wait anymore. I'm tired of waiting. I don't want to go through another miscarriage and another surgery. I don't want to get pregnant again only to find out some horrific news. I don't want to go months and months and months without getting pregnant before they start testing or whatever they're going to do. I don't want to endure all that infertile shit.

If I can have a child biologically – fantastic; but why do I have to ensure that I cannot have a biological child before considering adoption? Why can't we just adopt now and play the rest by ear?

Financially, it's not a good idea. We're not poor, but I really do not think we could afford two children right now. Not at the same time. I mean if we had to, of course we'd figure something out - but it wouldn't be easy. But what the hell in life is?

So I've been throwing around Adoption to S lately and he's not too keen on the idea, I don't think.

I remember when we first started dating; we had "the talk" about wanting children, etc. I felt like my clock was ticking extremely fast back then and didn't want to beat around the bush. Fortunately we were both on the same page with both agreeing to want to have children. I also remember a talk about adoption back then, too. And I distinctly remember him saying that he didn't think he wanted to go that route, that he really wanted to have a child of "his own" and if it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be.

But, of course, I didn’t think having a child would be a difficult process – especially when every single woman in my family has had multiple children. Yet here we are 8 1/2 years later and we still don't have a child (though we’ve only been really trying for nine months). And here I am at 36, having gotten pregnant but also having to have a D&C.

If there's one thing I've learned from my recent ... shit ... it’s that I just want to be a Mom. It truly does not matter to me whether or not that child comes from my womb or not. I just want to be a Mom.

And that's what I told S the other day when I brought up the Adoption subject.

Of course, he wants to keep trying the old fashioned way and insists that I’ll get pregnant again soon and that everything will work out fine… and while a part of me is sure he’s right, a bigger part of me still wants to adopt and say FUCK IT to the baby making process. There are so many babies out there that need a home and are in desperate need for a parent right now! And I desperately want to be a parent yet here I sit waiting and waiting and waiting for my time to come.

I know it’s still early. I just had the surgery a month and a half ago. Chances are pretty good (I believe) that I will get pregnant again and then I’m sure everything will be perfect and I’ll have a baby and I’ll become a mom and live happily ever after…

But until then, I’m still going to keep my eye on adoption. It can’t hurt, right? Well, not anymore than not being a mom hurts.

Yep, I’m gonna keep my eyes on blogs like these - http://theygrowinyourheart.wordpress.com/ and http://apathoftheheart.blogspot.com/ - and try to better understand the whole process of adoption… just in case. And from what I can tell, it seems like there’s more African American newborns available here in the US – and at a “cheaper” expense. And since we’re an interracial couple, maybe our chance to adopt quicker is greater than others?!

I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud.

But I would love to hear any stories or advice or anything if you have any – regarding adoption. And if you’d rather not discuss in a comment, let me know and maybe we can exchange emails.