Super quick update

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

Dear Coworker Mom of Teens

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.

About yesterday

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.

Alex

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

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.

The Focus Post

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.

Totally losing it - my mind, that is.

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

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.

Unexpected

It's funny how you can spend time thinking how you might react to something if it were to happen and then when it happens, you react in a completely different way - or in a way that surprises you.

When I POAS last Friday and clearly got only one line, I wasn't really upset or anything. I wasn't really... anything...if that makes sense. I just accepted it and moved on and had no real thoughts about it. It is what it is, after all.

Moments ago, however, I just went to the bathroom and when I wiped, I saw pink on the tissue. Apparently the gates are opening and AF is deciding to visit now - three days before my birthday. Why not, right?

Anyway, when I saw the pink and then looked at my panties and saw a blurry smudgy spot of red/brown, my heart practically sank and tears immediately formed in my eyes.

And as I type this, I'm finding it almost hard to breathe as the tears fall out of my eyes.

One after the other.

I wasn't expecting this reaction whatsoever.

I can't stop crying.

It's like it's really real now. Yesterday I was reminded of the D and C when I got the bill for it. Today I get my period.

It really did happen.

I was pregnant one day... not so long ago.

I was really going to become a mom finally.

For four weeks, it became more and more real that life was growing inside me and I was finally going to become the mom I've wanted to become for so, so long.

And then one day, the doctor told me there was no more hope for growth. The doctor told me he was 100% sure it was over.

Just like that.

After 7 months of trying to get pregnant... it was all over.

And the next day I had the surgery.

And now, 34 days later, I'm finally menstruating.

And the tears flood my eyes again.

:(

I just truly was not expecting this sort of reaction.

About yesterday

Apparently it's time to color my hair. I had three different people comment on the gray yesterday - not on how much hair I chopped off, but on the gray and how there was a lot of it. Gee, thanks for the breaking news, Einstein. Would it be OK of me to comment on all your wrinkles and that maybe you shouldn't have spent so much time in the sun or smoked a little less cigarettes cuz you look about 10 years older than you actually are? Oh that's right, I have common courtesy so I'll just *think* those thoughts while you actually verbalize yours. Thanks for playing.

Yesterday was the first of two 1-year-old birthday parties I had to attend. It was fun (aside from the gray hair comments) and the only time I got teary eyed was when they sat the birthday boy in his high chair, gave him his little cake, and all the guests (about 30 total) started singing happy birthday to him. He looked around at everyone looking at and singing to him and started to cry. The poor little guy! I seriously couldn't help but get welled up because both his mom's (he's the product of IVF to a lesbian couple) tried to get his attention on to them so he would stop crying, which he did.

He's a happy baby. Very content. Ready to walk any minute. And he's absolutely adored by his mom's and all their friends.

I held him only once (did I mention he's the product of a lesbian couple? yeah so that means he's got grandparents that didn't think they were going to get a grandchild, and a gazillion "aunts" that want to do nothing but shower him with their love) and played with him for only a couple minutes. It was when I was about to play Bocce Ball with my dad, husband, and one of the granddads.

Z (the baby) spotted the balls we were holding and tried to come toward us so I gently tossed one of the Bocce balls onto the grass for the little guy to come toward. He did so I knew he wanted to play with the ball, but also had the sense to realize that he wouldn't really be able to lift the Bocce ball so I found a rubber ball and started playing catch with him. He was so happy when he threw the ball toward me that he squealed and waved his little arms about.

Gah, I cannot wait! It's not about being pregnant for me, though that's obviously step 1; I just want a child to nurture, to care for, to adore, to love, to guide, to protect, to help grow, to help thrive, to help and watch learn...

There were a couple times when a couple family members I haven't seen for a while asked how we've been doing. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a baby, but I have a feeling that they think we don't want kids or something... after all, we were together for 7 years before we got married last year and I'm getting up there in age. But, then again, maybe they realize that those kind of questions can very well be hurtful... look how long they had to wait for a baby to get into their family since one of the mother's (the one that didn't birth Z) is a lesbian.

I don't know, but I was SO grateful that nobody asked us when we were going to have a baby. SO grateful. And can I just add that it was not at all easy to answer the question, "So what have you guys been up to lately?"

"Not too much," was my answer that left my lips when my head said, Oh just finally finding out that I'm pregnant, being elated about the pregnancy, falling madly in love with the growing baby for four weeks, only to find out there was no heart beat and making the hardest decision in my life to undergo surgery to suck the pregnancy out of my uterus in hopes of being able to move on and forward.

"Just work and stuff," I said.

Meh, it's all to be expected I guess... and I'm just grateful I didn't have any crying spells or anything and that I was able to enjoy yesterday for what it was - Z's first birthday. It's not *always* about me, after all.

That was yesterday and today's a different day:

This morning after I came back to bed for the umpteenth time after peeing, yet again, I told DH that a part of me thought I might be pregnant again because of all the peeing and because of the *extremely vivid* dreams I've been having every single night for the past two weeks - just like when I was pregnant last time.

"I'm trying not to get worked up about it though, in case I'm not and because I really don't think I am," I added. "Plus, if I really am, I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time."

Saying it out loud to someone else really made me sad for a moment - I don't think I could be as excited as I was last time. It shouldn't be like that. Every pregnancy is different and my chances of having a healthy pregnancy following a miscarriage are great... but it's how I feel. Today at least.

"You probably haven't even ovulated yet," he answered.

"Yeah," I said, trying to drift off into another dream.

shoot me now

I've been doing pretty good this week and I think I can attribute that to my drastic hair cut last Friday.

Today, however, I'm beginning to feel a little down again. I'm sure it doesn't help that I've been bouncing around the fucking internet all day long. Add that to the fact that I've got period-like cramping going on and NO sore boobies and I'm beginning to think the fucking whore Aunt Flo may be coming after all.

:(

Why I can't just miraculously be pregnant again, I don't know, but I don't think it's in my cards. No... that would be too easy. And nothing in my life has ever come easy so why the fuck would it start now?!?

See that? That's anger. I still have a lot of it and I've noticed that it really hasn't dissipated like I thought... or like I hoped. It shows up the most when I'm driving, which has become *much more* aggressive lately.

:(

Fuck, maybe I just need to see a fucking shrink again.

Oh but instead I get to go to a one-year-old's birthday party tomorrow where I'm sure there will be lots of happy mommy and daddy's and other kids around.

Shoot me now.

So yesterday went pretty well - for the most part.

We ended up over at my aunt and uncle's house just around the corner from my grandmother's house. My one cousin was celebrating his 25th birthday and they had cake, cookies (that I made), and coffee for everyone. It was nice to sit around the table and talk with everyone. We used to this a lot when my grandfather was alive but ever since he passed, family gatherings have really diminished. It's kind of sad because it makes me realize my child - should I be blessed with one - will not really get to experience large family gatherings.

Anyway, we talked and laughed and then I asked if my other cousin's daughter is walking yet. She's going to be one in a couple weeks. And that's when things became a little difficult.

I should've been able to listen to the gush of the beautiful, happy baby with a huge smile on my face knowing that in a year and a half's time, people would be gushing about my almost-walking baby. Instead I had a smile on my face and tried not to think of what could've been or what would've been.

That's when they brought out the pictures and oh my what a genuinely happy baby! The smile on her face in every single picture makes everyone else looking at the pictures smile. You can't help it.

The grandparents and uncle (my aunt and uncle and other cousin) went on and on about how she's taking about 7 steps on her own before she plops onto the floor; about how she sticks out her tongue back and forth a couple times when they ask her to do a lizard face; about how she's got 10 teeth; about how she engages everyone whenever they go out to eat or anything.

And I listened and smiled and laughed and focused on the child they gushed on about, but found myself drifting a couple times. Thank god nobody asked when we were going to have a child.


The next couple of weekends are going to be quite interesting... we have a birthday party for one of my cousin's one-year old's this Sunday and another birthday party for the aforementioned cousin's one-year old next Saturday.

And then in three weeks, my birthday. I was intending to tell people around my birthday that we were having a baby in March. Not gonna happen this time around.

Letting it all out there

So here goes: I'm putting it all out there in the next 50 minutes I have before S comes home. I've been holding back for some time now because I know there are some dear, dear people who read this blog who I don't want to offend or upset in any way... but the fact of the matter is that this is my blog and it was created to help me heal.

And I still need to heal.

I'm very sad. It only seems to get worse than better. I swear to god that I was OK two weeks ago. I was OK with what happened... with what had to happen. But every day seems to get worse and worse and worse and I'm not sure how to handle it.

It's not like I can't get up in the morning and go to work. It's not like I can't laugh at things and be goofy... it's just there are moments. A lot of moments throughout the day when I feel... empty.

There it is - that fucking word I hate so much. That word I've fought so hard to never enter my vocabulary again. Empty.

I hate what that word means when it's used to describe the way someone feels. To me, there's nothing worse than feeling empty.

It's almost as bad as not feeling like there's any hope left.

But there is always hope.

Thankfully.

But yeah, the emptiness. I haven't felt the emptiness in a long, long time - at least 10 years or so and I've really worked hard to not go down that road again.

But lately, I've had moments of emptiness and it's been scary.

And the anger. By god the anger is gaining control of me... talk about scary! I try so hard each and every day to smile and to laugh - to find anything to smile and laugh at or about. I try and I usually succeed.

But then there are those fucking moments when the anger and/or the emptiness gets a hold of me and doesn't want to let go.

I almost feel like I'm suffocating at times...


Just before hopping on here to blog, I was talking to S on the phone - he's on his way home from work and I was calling to let him know I was home. I was looking for batteries for the cordless keyboard and asked if he knew where they were. He didn't. I told him that I *needed* to blog - and blogging is something we rarely discuss.

He said, "I wish you would talk to your husband instead of the computer."

And I did. I broke down. I started crying and I told him how I guess I wasn't over the miscarriage, that I wanted to be pregnant and excited and nervous; I told him that I was sad, incredibly sad and that I was angry; I told him that I needed the batteries so that I could blog, that I didn't want to talk to him about it because - in all honesty - I'm not sure what the fuck is wrong with me; I told him that I *guess* it's all because of the loss.

But I have no clue.

I just know that I can't stand to read about pregnancies... a lot of the pregnancies I'm reading about are my own friends' pregnancies. And I'm so incredibly happy for them... but I can't stand to fucking read about it anymore. I can't stand it. The baby names, the clothes not fitting, the baby showers, the backaches, the ultrasounds, the heartbeats. I can't do it anymore. I can't be excited for them anymore.

And I can't stand myself for not being able to be excited for them.

And then there's the pregnant ladies. I swear to fuck they are everywhere. And the kids. Babies and kids and baby bumps EVERYFUCKINGWHERE I turn.

I can't stand it anymore because I so pathetically and desperately want it to be my turn.

I so appreciate everyone telling me stories about people they know - or they themselves - who've gone through a miscarriage (or more) and have also had healthy pregnancies. I really and wholeheartedly appreciate this more than words can say because I know they don't want me to give up and they want me to know that there is still hope.

And I agree.

But I also know that time is not on my side.

While I'm not ancient, I'm not 25 anymore. I don't have time to have another two miscarriages before the doctors start looking more into what happened. I don't have time!! Yes, I probably will get pregnant and it will probably be healthy... BUT WHAT IF I DON'T OR WHAT IF THIS HAPPENS AGAIN?! Can you tell me that? What the fuck happens if I don't get knocked up for another year or two. I'm turning 36 in three weeks. I don't have any other children. This is it, people!! Don't you fucking understand that this is my ONLY opportunity?!?

Even the fucking doctor acts like it's not a big deal... and I get it. I do. Because, again, chances are pretty darn great that I *will* get pregnant again and it *will* be a healthy pregnancy and I *will* become a mom... but there is NO guarantee of that.

And by god, I'm sick of being positive about everything. I'm fucking SICK OF IT!


My head hurts. It fucking hurts because I'm crying like a little bitch and I can't fucking stand it.

And listen to my language ... or read it. How can a someone who wants to mother so fucking bad, write like this?

I'm pathetic.

And I'm tired.

And I need to take a shit.

God, maybe S was right... maybe I am just PMSing.

But I don't really cry like this when I'm PMSing.

That's why I think I'm not over it. Or something.

Gah, I need to end this for now... S just called so I have to go move the car anyway.

Closing a chapter

So my follow-up D and C appointment... UGH!

In all honesty, I've been doing OK in regards to the missed "abortion" and losing the baby - for the most part, at least. Sure I have my moments, but I've been able to get up in the morning and go to work and do my job and whatever else... Granted, I've noticed that I'm angrier than before - at any and every little thing - but I suppose that's all par for the course.

I didn't know quite what to expect from today's appointment, but I had hoped for a couple of things NOT to happen: I didn't want any more blood drawn, any more vaginal exams, any more ultra sounds, and I really didn't want to see any happy pregnant couples in the waiting room. I pretty much figured I was safe with everything but the vaginal exam and the happy couples.

After I signed in to the receptionist and took a seat, I could see that there was indeed a happy couple in the waiting room. Just me, them, the TV and the receptionist. Thank god for the TV! I tried so hard not too look at them because the fact of the matter is that there's NO REASON they shouldn't be happy! And there's no reason I need to be getting upset because of someone else's happiness!

But it was hard. They were happy. Really, really happy. She had an ultrasound picture in her hand, and a little bump already forming in her lap. He also had another ultrasound picture, and the biggest smile on his face. And that's what I saw from my peripheral vision as I tried to study the TV! Then I noticed some extra movement and as much as I tried to focus on the news from the TV, I couldn't help but notice what the movement was: the baby daddy was so happy he leaned over, rubbed his woman's belly and then kissed the belly.

It was one of the most sweetest things I've seen in a long time and while it brings a tear to my eye right now, when it happened it actually made me feel better instead of worse. They were happy. Really, really happy. And they were going to be having a baby!

Soon after the sweet moment, an obvious pregnant woman walked in. I say obvious because her bump was definitely a bump and not just a fat, beer belly. Plus she stood with her hand holding her back... and we all know the toll a women's back can take during pregnancy. :)

The nurse called to the obvious pregnant woman and took her back into the office.

The happy parents-to-be still sat gleaming with joy against the wall.

Another woman strolled in. This time, it wasn't obvious if she was with child or not. She said something to the receptionist and the receptionist said the same thing she said to me in return, "This is just a follow up from the surgery, right?"

My heart sank for her. She was there for the same reason I was.

Finally my name was called and I followed the nurse directly into one of the doctor's offices rather than stopping for my weight like my most recent appointments... back when I was pregnant. And rather than take my blood pressure, she opened a drawer and took out a paper cover up and told me the doctor needed me to get undressed from the waist down.

Fuck, I thought but instead said, "For real?"

She looked at me and said, "Yes." And I could see the empathy in her eyes. And I realized how incredibly difficult their jobs must be at times.

I took off my shoes and pants and fought back the tears all while saying "Fuck" quietly several times. I hoisted my fat ass onto the fucking table and waited.

The doctor came in and I was elated to see that it was my doctor again! He wasn't the cold and matter of fact doctor he was three weeks ago, he was back to the warm and open and informative doctor I chose to be "the one" to examine my Secret Garden all those years back.

He asked how I was doing and if there was any heavy bleeding or cramping.

"Not since the end of that weekend," I replied. "But I have had spotting almost every day."

He told me that was all to be expected but as long as it wasn't real heavy bleeding or cramping and as long as I wasn't screaming in pain during the exam - which he did while he told me this - then all was good.

He told me they send out the "pregnancy tissue" - for which he hesitated saying - to ensure that it comes back as "pregnancy tissue" and not say "intestine", or something. Mine came back "pregnancy tissue" so that was good (I was pregnant!) and made me chuckle because of his delivery of it.

And with that, he was done with the exam and said, "So I guess this means that - if you're ready - you can start trying again."

"I'm not sure if you given that any thought," he continued.

"We have," I said and before the words came out, the tears welled. "We decided," I continued, swallowing the tears, "to start again right away."

He seemed almost happy. And he went on to tell me about how it may take a little while still before the hormone levels go back down, before I ovulate, before things all get back to "normal" but that it shouldn't take more than six months.

He asked if I had questions and I asked that if, nope WHEN we get pregnant would the same things happen again or would they treat me differently. He told me that they really don't start looking more into the why's behind miscarriages until the third miscarriage, and that if they think something may not be going well with a pregnancy, they start taking the hormone levels (hCG).

"So you don't *always* start with the blood tests?" I asked.

"Not unless we can't clear up things on the ultrasound."

And that's when the past three weeks became as clear as a crystal fucking ball to me. The Doc was not his usual, warm and informative Doc that I always liked three weeks ago because he knew from that first appointment that things weren't well. He knew it but he wasn't sure so had to make sure. He couldn't come right out and say "this pregnancy isn't going to last" because he wasn't 100% sure that was the case - hence the blood tests and extra ultrasounds.

It also explained the demeanor of the PA as she, too, knew that we were holding on by a thread.

I mean, really, how fucking draining must it be to work in the area of pregnancies? Sure it's probably wonderful and almost euphoric when the pregnancy is wonderful and healthy... but what does it do to the nurses and doctors and staff when they have to witness an unhealthy pregnancy? When they have to be the bearer of some of the most horrific news imaginable?

"You're baby stopped growing."

"There is no heartbeat."

"The blood tests don't look good."

It wasn't that my doctor was bothered or annoyed by me or that the PA thought my feet smelled or something. It was that they were preparing for my emotion before I could prepare for it myself. They were preparing for my own hell. Just like they have with so many other women and parents many times before (and after) me.

"Just another ride on the roller coaster of life," Doc said to me before saying good-bye.

Indeed.

And I can almost see the top again.

Monday's Confession

Tomorrow is my follow-up doctor's visit with my doctor since the D&C. I've been really and truly "OK" lately. Sure, I cried during Tori and Dean the other night, but who wouldn't?! A new baby was brought into the world to a couple who seem like they're so in love with being parents. That warrants a couple tears in my opinion.

I have to honestly say, though... I really hope there's nobody in the waiting room when I get there. Nobody obviously pregnant at least. I cannot handle seeing couples sitting there beaming with joy as they study their ultrasound pictures again. As "OK" as I've been lately, I'm pretty confident that I will lose it if that were to happen.

That brings Monday's Confession to a close... besides the obvious of being ass fucking tired again.

The weekend

About yesterday's post: mission accomplished!

It was a little odd to be honest. It's been almost two months since we've last had sex and only a week and a half since the D&C... I'm guessing that's where the "oddness" came from. While I bled the day of the D&C, I haven't since that day. But I have spotted nearly every day. And while I hadn't spotted much yesterday or this morning, I did immediately following our "love session." (God, I'm such a dork!) And it was a spotting with fucking bits which really disturbs me because I'm guessing it's dried blood from the D&C.

Gross!

Last night when I got home, I plopped my fat ass in front of the TV. S was stopping over at some family on his way home, so it was just me and Tori and Dean for a couple of hours. I really like the show. It's entertaining and cute and their little Liam seems so fucking happy. I cried watching last night's shows. I cried and cried. Liam was so happy and giddy and Tori and Dean are so madly in love with him and each other! Then there was the episode where Tori gave birth to their new little bundle, Stella. And I cried and cried.

She was so elated over the fact that she was 35 and had a perfect husband, a perfect son, and now a perfect daughter.

I can totally understand her elation. Hopefully I'll have my own little family by 37.

Apparently

...I'm not over the loss.

...I'm stll upset about this.

...It's OK to be upset because it hasn't even been a week.

...Life goes on everywhere around me.

...My anger really can be attributed to the loss.

...I'm also quite sad, too.

...I really want to be pregnant.

...I have no motherfucking desire to go through another six months of trying.

...My thirty-fucking-sixth birthday next month is playing negatively in my mind.

...This is going to take a lot longer to get over than I thought.

Fuck!

A New Week

I'm still occasionally cramping and I still have "bits" coming out when I wipe. I haven't bled since the day of the surgery though. The cramping - when it happens - gets really bad though. I hate it because it's a reminder of what happened because it's a cramping that's more severe than period cramping.

The doctor told us to hold off on sex for a week following the surgery. Frankly I can't wait. We haven't had sex since we conceived (while we both enjoy each other's company, we just don't have that much sex - and the last thing I wanted when I was pregnant was for him to touch me) which was almost two months ago! Needless to say, I'm looking forward to the end of the week and am really hoping the cramping and the "bits" subside by then.

Whether or not we'll conceive right away is something we're not getting too worked up about. I'm done with the temping and tracking of cervical mucous. I'll just listen to my body like I did when we conceived and hope for the best. Everything happens for a reason so I have to believe I'll get pregnant again soon. And I have to believe baby will stick this time around.

I still miss my baby.

I see pregnant women around everywhere these days. And babies. Everywhere I turn.

I'm sure our day will come again.

I miss

...holding my lower belly while taking a nap.

...talking to my baby when driving home.

...thinking about how wonderful a dad S would make.

...my clothes getting tight.

...my boobs hurting so badly that I couldn't take off my bra. Ever.

...making sure I drank extra milk.

...so much.

Ouch and Eww and Oh.

Other than bleeding following the D&C, I haven't had any blood. Nothing yesterday, nothing today.

I have, however, had some incredible cramps. Odd cramps. Painful cramps. But nothing constant - they come in waves... some strong waves that brought tears to my eyes and a queasiness to my belly yesterday.

Apparently that's why the doc prescribed some pain meds.

This morning, on the other hand, I'm not feeling crampy but I am having some odd discharge which is weirding me out a bit. It's not blood, it's not cervical mucous - I don't think. It's like little bits of something. It's fucking gross and it's making me wonder if it's part of something.

:(

Other than physical stuff going on, I'm feeling pretty good. I really think last week prepared me for the Wednesday's "event."

I guess.

A part of me really feels bad for not feeling worse about what happened, but what else can I do about all of this?

I was pregnant - and for that I'm incredibly grateful. It means that everything worked for us and I know it also means it will work again for us.

Hopefully sooner than later.

I used to be freaked out about my age - I'll be 36 next month! But again, what the fuck can I do about that? Nothing.

There's things in my life that are completely out of my control at this point, and that means I need to work on letting those things go and focus on what I can change, what I do have some control over.

That being said, it's time to get positive again... time to start *believing* again.