The old wives and me: A recap and an update

Here is what the old wives and I thought.

Here is what the old wives and I thought.

So on Monday we had our 20 week ultrasound. If you’ve been following regularly, you’ll know that I’ve had a lot of fears about this pregnancy. If not, I’ll do a brief recap:

It started off rough. We were told early on to expect another miscarriage. That would have made 3 in a row. I did have some cramping and a little bleeding early on, but the little one just kept on keeping on. At our 6 week ultrasound we got to see our rainbow. There was a baby and a heartbeat! We were thrilled. This was huge! I lost Jordan at 6 weeks so having a heartbeat was awesome. With my next pregnancy with Mason, we found out at 9 weeks that it was a blighted ovum. The baby didn’t form. This time, at 6 weeks 6 days we had a baby with a heartbeat.

I was still terrified that things were going to end at any time. I was also afraid that my baby wasn’t going to have a brain. I was going to carry it to term, deliver it, and donate the organs. If you’ve seen the show Private Practice, you’ll know what I’m talking about. So we had our nuchal screening done at 12 weeks and baby is growing. The tech said that everything looked good, but she didn’t say if there was a brain or not. I just assumed there was and we moved on. Baby was still doing well, still thriving, and still had a nice strong heartbeat in the high 140s-160s, depending on the day.

20 weeks!! We made it halfway. I’m still afraid of losing the pregnancy, but now it would be considered a stillbirth instead of a miscarriage. Stillbirth holds a little more weight with people than miscarriage. At least those that have never experienced a loss. I know that is a morbid thought, but I’m just being honest. I’m sure I’ll have a little fear until the day my baby is born, but I’m feeling some kicks now and I love the reassurance.

20 weeks 5 days. Chris and I go in for the ultrasound. I’m dressed in a pink t-shirt and a pink hoodie. The tech shows us the different body parts on the screen. I’m just looking for a heartbeat or movement. I’m not seeing either and I’m a little freaked out. We see arms and legs, stomach, spine, and feet. She shows us the brain. My baby has a brain! Chris said, “There’s a brain!” He was kind of making fun of me, but I didn’t care. Then she says, “it’s a boy!” I start crying and I ask her if she’s sure. Chris has 2 daughters already, so I was praying for a boy. I would have bet money that we were having a girl. I would have loved it either way, but I wanted him to have a son. I was sobbing. Uncontrollable sobs. The tech had to ask me to keep my stomach still so she could finish up. His heartbeat was 166.  It was amazing, emotional, and awesome. The tech said he seems healthy. I think he’s perfect. My son. The old wives and I were wrong, but I’ve never been more happy to not be right.

Today, I’m 21 weeks. Only 3 more weeks until viability!!!

Baby boy at 20 weeks 5 days.

Baby boy at 20 weeks 5 days.

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Aside

Note* This blog was started on Friday, the 25th: It’s late and again I can’t sleep. I have taken my pregnancy safe Unisom in hopes of getting some much needed rest, so until it kicks in- I’ll blog. I’ve had the flu the past two days and so that’s been fun. Tomorrow is the much dreaded day of what should be Mason’s birth. Granted, hardly any babies come on their actual due date, but it’s the closest thing I’ve got to knowing when he should be in my arms. It’s also my grandpa’s birthday. Two of my angels, celebrating in Heaven, together. I’ve been anxious about this day since the beginning. It’s one of those milestone markers that you face after a loss. You know the ones: first time saying your baby died.  The first time going back to your doctor. The first time starting your period again. The time when you should be so many weeks along. The due date. And finally, the anniversary of the loss date. There may be more, but right now in my broken, jumbled brain- these seem like the biggies.

For those of you that have been following our stories, you know that my pregnancy with Mason presented a few additional challenges. I was due 2 weeks after a friend and 2 weeks before a cousin. I found out about my cousin’s pregnancy after having lost Mason. I also was to attend the wedding of a pregnant friend only a couple days past my D&C. I was unable to make it to the wedding, but did get to go up for some quite time after the ceremony.  Three weeks ago, my friend delivered her chunky little boy, Liam. I handled that pretty well. I was prepared. I had expected it.

As I’m sitting here typing this, the news has already been spread and photos are being shared of the 2 week early, tiny little Morgan. In all honesty, I had forgotten, just temporarily, that another baby was to make her way into this world. I was wrapped up in honoring Mason. I was planning his day. January 26. A day when I could grieve and honor him simultaneously. And then there was Morgan. I wasn’t prepared for her arrival. When I was anticipating it, I had time. I could get through tomorrow, Mason’s day, and then prepare myself for Morgan’s birth.

I am glad that my mom called me to let me know of the news before I found out any other way. I was helping Emily with her homework and as I was hanging up the phone, my voice cracked. I took a deep breath and swallowed my pain. Chris asked who it was and what was said. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it (meaning I didn’t want to talk about it that second in front of the girls because it was almost dinner and I wouldn’t be able to pull myself back together.) I put it my grief in a box and threw it away somewhere. We sat down to eat dinner as a family- Chris, the girls and me. I didn’t make it long though before I had to excuse myself. I went upstairs, laid in my bed with my head buried under a pillow like an ostrich and sobbed. Apparently, I didn’t throw that box far enough away. I muffled my tears for about 10 minutes, composed myself again, and went back downstairs.

*I can now feel my Unisom starting to kick in and everyone else is already in bed, the dog included. I’ll take a short break here, 24 minutes until Mason’s day, and be back to you in the morning. *Don’t worry, luckily for you I’m not posting until the whole blog is written, so you won’t even notice the time difference. It will just make more sense to you when I say today as opposed to tomorrow. Good night friends*

*Another note: it’s now Wednesday! I came back to you on Sunday to finish up and my blog had been mostly deleted and the revisions section was gone. Dangit WordPress!! I wasn’t able to get my blog back until now, but I digress…*

So here we are on Wednesday. It’s been a few days since Mason’s day, which was Saturday. I surprised myself and made it through the day with few tears. Mostly, I sat quietly on Facebook or Pinterest and blocked out the feelings. I didn’t really do anything to honor my son, which I regret. I just couldn’t handle it; I don’t think. I did tell him I missed him and that I loved him. I did make it through the day. I did survive. Today is week 14 with the little one and I think Mason would want me to enjoy this pregnancy. He’d want me to be happy and optimistic. I think that is how I will honor my son and my daughter: enjoying every moment I have with this one. ❤ Mason and Jordan, Momma loves you. We’ve made it through the rain and now we are working on our rainbow.

 

 

Mason’s day: Missing my son

The good, the sad, and the ugly emotions.

I’m exhausted, but I can’t sleep. I was laying in bed thinking how I have nothing good to blog about when I started getting emotional, all teary-eyed and brain-racy. Brain-racy leads to perfect blog material! Be warned, it’s a slightly long one.Today we are at 12 weeks 5 days, and we had our NT scan to test for Downs Syndrome. By “we” I mean Chris and I, even though he didn’t have to do anything but sit there. This would be the “good” part of my blog. The appointment literally lasted 5 minutes. The tech asked me for a urine sample before she did the ultrasound. She told me to pee in a Dixie cup. Now, I had just drank a bottle of water and a bottle of orange juice on the way over to try and counteract the Unisom I took to sleep last night, so I should be good to go, right? No. I’m guessing it was the whole peeing in a Dixie cup weirdness that was the cause. Who does that?! Anyway, we moved on to the ultrasound. The tech measured the amount of fluid behind the baby’s neck and it measured 1.4. Anything over a 3 is a higher chance of Downs. Don’t ask me “1.4 what?” because I don’t know. It could be millimeters, centimeters, or fluid ounces, I have no idea. I could Google it for you, but then I’d lose track of where I’m at. Back to the appointment- the tech checked the baby’s heart rate and it was a good 164. This is a little higher than normal, but I did just have that orange juice to try and wake it up. Little one didn’t do much but sit there on it’s back, though it did do a full body jump like a Mexican jumping bean that made me crack up laughing. The tech handed me a few pictures and sent me back to the waiting room to wait for blood work. I’d post more than one picture, but they all are identical, with the exception of the last one that just looks like a blurry blob.

Here (s)he is! 12 weeks 5 days. Little hands and little feet.

I get called back for my blood work. First stick goes in, but the blood doesn’t come out. Pump, pump, pump my fist, second stick goes in, blood comes out. It’ll be a week before we get the results. Doctor comes in, she says everything looks good, asks if I have any questions, and leaves. Now, I didn’t specifically come out and ask if my baby has a brain (if you read a few posts back you’d know about my fear and my drawn out plan just in case,) but she said everything looks good so I’m assuming yes. For those 30 minutes in the doctors office, I was calm. I was happy.

Now on to the “sad.” Once we got home, Chris said that he doesn’t think I can go through this whole pregnancy thing again. He had forgotten that he promised me we could have another baby after we buy a house, because I desperately want a nursery. Since we are moving to a two-bedroom house, we’ll have a room and the girls will have a room. Baby will sleep in our room. That means I don’t get a nursery in this house. No cutesy decorating and it makes me sad. What makes me sadder is that Chris says he doesn’t think I can go through this again. Which means, he doesn’t think he can go through it again. It’s probably a combination of my all-day sickness, my crazy hormonal mood swings, and my miscarriage and brainless fears. I’ve always wanted 4 babies: a boy, twin girls, and then another boy. I’ve had it planned out for years. Obviously, that didn’t happen and God has other plans, but I can’t accept that I’m done after only one. I feel slighted and hurt at the idea. I know it’s a while away yet, but I’m still saddened by the thought that he said no more. I guess we’ll wait and see.

Last, but not least, the “ugly” emotions.

I’ll bullet this section to make it easier to read. I know that jealousy is a bad emotion and I’m doing my best to control it. Don’t get all crazy preachy on me now.

  • I am jealous of pregnant women who did not lose babies or that didn’t have to try to get pregnant.
  • If I know you and you didn’t struggle, I am mad because I picture myself having yet another loss while you go on to have a happy, healthy pregnancy. I see your baby as a reminder of my sadness and pain and I am hurt and jealous.
  • If I know you and you have struggled, I couldn’t be happier for you. I praise your success and pray for a healthy outcome. I know what you’ve been through and I share your joy, as well as your fears.
  • If I don’t know you, this doesn’t really apply.
  •  I still check for blood every single time I go to the bathroom. Even though I have seen my baby growing and listened to it’s heartbeat, many times, I am still waiting for it all to end. I’ve played through it in my mind: what if?
  • I am jealous of those that are pregnant and haven’t tried because they don’t necessarily worry about loss. Especially after the first trimester. They get to hide their pregnancies as long as they’d like and enjoy every minute after they go public.
  • I actually get angry when people ask how things are going. Like it’s a bad omen or something. If we just don’t talk about it, then we can’t jinx it.
  • I’m angry if you announce your pregnancy publically, having known the struggles and losses that I’ve suffered, and don’t have the curtsey to tell me in private, before you share it with the world. This applies mostly to before I got pregnant, but to those of you that were pregnant before I was and I’m just now finding out, consider yourself included.
  • If I have congratulated you on your pregnancy after announcing mine, but you have yet to congratulate me, just know I was only being polite.

We still have 28 more weeks to go. 28 weeks of trying to keep the fears to a minimum, 28 weeks of trying to keep my jealousy at bay, 28 weeks of trying to keep my hormonal outbursts away from Chris, 28 weeks of faith and praying. Only one more week until Mason’s due date. Maybe after that my crazy will simmer down a bit. I sure as heck hope so, for everyone’s sake.

Letter to my little one: For when you doubt my love

Good morning sunshine! Right now we are 12 weeks pregnant. That means that you have been growing for 10 weeks now. I’m still not feeling well yet, but I’m cherishing every moment I have with you, because I know how precious every minute is. If we haven’t told you yet, but I’m sure we have, you actually have 4 older siblings! You have your two sisters, Brooke and Emily, that you are well aware of. You also have your sister, Jordan, and your brother, Mason. We lost both of them before they were born and we miss them every day. So far, I’ve gotten to spend more time with you than I have with either of them. Thank you for hanging in there!

When we first found out I was pregnant with you, my doctor (who I adore!) told me that my blood work didn’t look good, and to be prepared that we might lose you. I was devastated. I sat in her office and cried hysterically, as she continued the conversation with another concern. If we did in fact lose you, she wanted us to take some time out from trying to have another baby. She was worried that I may not be able to handle another loss, mentally. I could barely wrap my head around the fact of losing yet another child, let alone not being able to try again for an undermined about of time. Luckily, your dad vetoed that idea. He knew how much we wanted you and taking time off wasn’t an option.

As I was waiting over an hour (and the longest hour of my life) to have more blood drawn, I asked your dad if we could let every one know that we were pregnant. I felt strongly that we either needed prayers, support, or both. He said to do whatever I felt I needed to do. Right there, at the doctors office, at 4 weeks pregnant, I told the world about you. I posted a message on Facebook for all the good thoughts and prayers our family and friends could muster. I told them how much I loved you and how I didn’t want to have to lose another baby. If you were going to go to Heaven, they would at least know the depth of my love for you, in the short time you were with us. At that moment I prayed a prayer I had never prayed before. I told God that you were His. He was in control of your destiny and that if he was going to take you, I’d let you go. I wouldn’t be happy about it though. I left this pregnancy up to Him.

I got my blood taken and the next day the doctor called with some good news. You were growing! Prayers and good thoughts continued to come in. My hormone levels were increasing the way they were supposed to, but we weren’t safe yet. I had blood drawn every day for a week. Each time the news was better and better! We made it to 6 weeks, when I lost Jordan- milestone. I heard your heartbeat and saw your picture- milestone. We made it to 9 weeks 4 days, when I lost Mason- milestone. We just made it to 12 weeks- milestone!

On Monday, your dad and I will get to see you again. It will have been 6 weeks since we’ve seen you last. You’ve grown a lot since then. They say you are about the size of a lime, but I don’t believe it. I check your heartbeat every few days, just to be sure, but you seem to be doing great! I can’t wait to see you, baby!

Now you may wonder someday, when did I first know that I wanted you. Well, always. There has never been a time that I questioned if I wanted to have kids or not. Not even for a second. I really knew and began thinking and planning about you when I was 14. I would watch a talk show called Maury. He had teens on his show that really wanted to have babies. They were trying hard to get pregnant and they were only the same age that I was! I really wanted you then, but I was smart enough to wait. I wanted to be married. I wanted to have a job. I wanted to be able to take care of you. No matter what though, I knew I wanted you.

When I was 18, I got married. I had a job. I joined the military. I was so ready to bring you into my life! I prayed for you every night and wished upon every star. God had other plans, though I didn’t know it at the time. I spent the 5 years that I was married waiting for you. My ex-husband was manipulative and abusive. It would not have been a happy environment for you, little one. Looking back, I’m glad you waited to come.

Fast forward 5 years and here we are. We have your dad and Brooke and Emily. Oh and of course the dog, Sam. He loves kids. He thinks he is one, actually. We have two angel babies in Heaven, watching over you. You are already so loved and have been for so long. Your dad is an amazing man and I can’t wait for you to meet him. You will love him so much. He is kind, caring, strong, hard working, and he wants you just as much as I do! We are so happy to have you, baby. You were wanted for so long, and now here you are. We are counting down the days until we see your smiling face. You are loved. You are wanted. You are a dream come true and an answered prayer.

Love Always,

Mom

 

Prepare to cry

Not so much a blog post today, just an update. If you haven’t noticed, Kristen and I have compiled a list of our favorite miscarriage and infertility songs on a tab called “Listen at your own risk.”  I have taken the liberty of adding all of the songs we’ve chosen into a YouTube playlist for your convenience. That way, you have access to them whenever you need a little inspiration or a really good cry. The link is on the “Listen at your own risk” page. Bring on the tears.

It’s a two parter!

So I suck at blogging everyday. It’s not that I’m not amazingly talented or super funny all the time. I just can’t put my thoughts into words very easily lately. I have had 3 job interviews and I go in very confident and I leave feeling like my IQ dropped 100 points in the interview room and I babbled like my 2-year-old niece.
Any who! It has been an interesting first 4 days of the year. I have only been to work 1 day this year which makes me smile every time I say that. As most people know we have not stopped fertility treatments. I took my Letrozole as prescribed days 5-9. I went to the doctor on day 12 which was yesterday. What happens is I get un ultrasound and blood work done. They check all the levels they need to. Progesterone, LH, and estrogen I think. I don’t know, I try not to ask. So yesterday, my doctor is still out-of-town on vacation and they have this “sub” ultrasound tech. She’s nice and all but she’s not my doctor. So they check my ovaries. Side note-I was concerned there would be no eggs because I wasn’t feeling the pinches I usually do on whichever side I am ovulating on. She checks my left side first. I immediately panic when I see not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5, but 6 follicles. NOW! Not every follicle will produce an egg. They have to be a certain size before they will pop out a mature egg that is viable for use. The size they should be is anywhere between 18 and 29mm in size and the ones on my left side were no larger than 11mm (this all depends on your doctor. Mine once let one get to 32mm before–no baby that month.) I was slightly unhappy but I realize that I am responding very well to this medication. She checks my right ovary. BAM! One big fat one! There were a couple little ones like on the left side but hey, 1 is all it takes. The nice big fat one was 19mm. The routine is to then get the hcg shot and ovulate and get inseminated the next day or do the wild thing for 4 days straight. This month my doctor said wait until tomorrow for the shot. For the last 4 months, these have been my exact results (minus the crazy amounts of eggs on one side.) I asked the girls why he decided that I needed to wait. They said that my numbers have been as close to identical as possible for the past 4 months and he wants to push it just a tad farther to get better results. So today I went back into the office (a 30 minute drive) and got another ultrasound and more blood work. You would be shocked to know that a follicle grows so quickly! Today the big fat juicy one measured 25mm. Go us! So I got my shot and informed the girls we would definitely be going forward with an insemination.
This means 2 things. Not only do the husband and I have to BBD for the next several days but he will have to wake up at about 6am and give me a sample of, what I call, my children. I will be at the office by 7am and they will “wash” the stuff and prep it for insemination. I like to say these sperm get a golden ticket. They pull a chance card and are allowed to pass go, collect their $200.00 and have fun racing to the finish line. There is nothing else to be done after this. I will lay on the table at the doctor’s office and go about my business…oh…and then start my 2ww. (I’m rolling my eyes if only you could see me…) So, there you have it. I will be inseminated like a cow only a farmer isn’t sticking his entire arm up my vag. A doctor gets to shove a catheter in there and splash me with a little Jeremy juice.

I told you this would be a 2 parter. It is but I really don’t want to write about this. I don’t believe dreams really mean anything except for your sub-conscience to make you paranoid while you sleep. I don’t really dream that often but when I do they are pretty rememberable. I know when I was pregnant I dreamt every night and they were such vivid dreams I would wake up and have to wake Jeremy up to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming.
Since I don’t really believe my dreams mean anything I don’t talk about them all that much. However, this dream freaked me out and I had to write it down. I couldn’t stop thinking of the baby we lost. I couldn’t stop imagining him. I couldn’t stop trying to picture his face or trying to feel how small he was or trying to hear him cry. Then all of a sudden he was there. Perfect and beautiful but I still couldn’t see his face. I could see his shape, his chunky arms and legs, his black hair and I could hear his little cries. I wanted to hold him but I couldn’t, someone was stopping me. I looked to see who was holding him and to talk some sense into them only to find out it was my uncle who had passed away almost 5 years ago. Sitting next to him was my grandfather smiling at him, speaking Hungarian to him and I understood everything he said. Next to them was a very dear family friend that just passed away last week. They were smiling at my son and telling him how amazing he was. Then my grandfather, who I never met because he died 8 years before I was born, said to me “We have him. He is ok with us. Your little boy is ok. Don’t worry. His brothers will come to you soon.” I started crying in my dream and said I want him now. I was told by my uncle that I needed to wait. He was needed with them and, again, his brothers would come to me soon. As they turned him around to show me his smile, this light almost blinded me and caused me not to be able to see his face. I told them I loved them all and I kept talking and was still crying. I woke up crying.
That has me completely freaked out. Like I said before, I don’t think about my dreams meaning anything but this was something I have never experienced before. I might need a psychic. I most likely need a psychiatrist. However, this gave me a strange feeling of relief. I felt this calm after I saw all of them with the baby. I know I only carried our son
until 10 weeks but he’s still my baby boy. And I got to see some folks I miss and love dearly.

So, there you have it. I’m insane. I have 2 weeks in front of me that I will be a nut job WARNING! WARNING! And I am in some strange way at peace now that my boy and my family are ok somewhere. So now, I will go make myself pancakes because they are calling to me. I saw them in a movie this afternoon and I can’t seem to get the taste out of my head. So excited for pancakes 🙂

***this is for Candi**** sorry for being a bitch on the phone. i don’t know why but i was and i apologize. i thought i would make it more public so you would believe me 🙂

Miscarriage: Not the only fear in the book

Yesterday I reached the 10 week mark in my pregnancy. Before this, my longest pregnancy was 9 weeks 4 days. That was how far along I was when I had my d&c with Mason. From here on out, every day is a record breaking day in my pregnancy book. I’m trying to cherish every minute I get to have with my baby here on earth.

I am lucky enough to have a friend who owns a fetal Doppler that she graciously allowed me to borrow for this pregnancy. Going into using the Doppler, I kept an open mind reminding myself it could be a while before I heard a heartbeat. I also might have days I don’t hear anything after having success, but that doesn’t mean I have lost the baby. That being said, it took me 3 days of searching and I heard the heartbeat at 9weeks 3days. I started tearing up when I finally found that wonderful sound, but it didn’t last long. I think I was in shock. My baby is still alive!! Remember, my previous longest pregnancy was 9w4d. I tried again at 9w5d and baby was still kicking. Success! Longest. Pregnancy. To. Date. Yay!!

No onto my fears. Having had 2 previous miscarriages, it’s not unlikely that I have been waiting for it to happen, yet again. We had the scare in the beginning when my hCG levels were super low. I had some spotting for a while. I’ve also had some blood tinged discharge. All things to keep me freaking out. As it’s getting closer to that 12 week mark, my fears of miscarriage are slowly diminishing, but for a couple weeks now a different fear has been on my mind: a brainless baby.

You may or may not have seen the tv show on ABC, Private Practice. One of the doctors gets pregnant with a baby who has no brain, she carries him to term, and then donates his organs. Pretty hard core, if you ask me.

Now I am having the Nuchal screening test done on Monday to assess for Downs Syndrome. I am not having this test done because I would terminate if my baby has Downs at all. I just want to see my little one. I have grown up around the mentally and physically disabled and I see nothing wrong with having a special needs child. I want to make sure my baby has a brain. I’ve played this scenario out multiple times in my head. I go to the ultrasound and I’m told, your baby is alive and well, but we are sorry to tell you, it has no brain. I choose to continue on with my pregnancy for the fact that I love my baby and defect or not, it may be the last chance I get. I know it’s a hard road ahead, but I’m ready for it. I have business cards made up explaining my baby’s condition that I hand out to every single person that asks about my baby. They say my baby has no brain, but I’m choosing to carry to term because I want to hold my sweet little one in my arms, even for just a moment. I’m not looking for pity and I know there will be those that strongly oppose my decision, but I’ve already lost two children. I just want to be able to hold one in my arms. Just once.

I know that this fear is probably completely unfounded, but it’s there. Hopefully not for long. I’m seeing the little on Monday morning and I’ll let you know if we’ll be making up business cards or not.

Have you had any fears other than miscarriage with any pregnancies? Humor me.

I was going to include the video of when we first heard the heartbeat, but it costs $60 to upgrade. Just pretend. *thump. thump. thump. thump. thump.

Holidays, hormones, and the Apocalypse

Well, as I feared would happen I failed to keep my goal of blogging every day. It’s been quiet in crazy town. A little too quiet. Technically though, it hasn’t been quiet. I just figured that if I wrote down what I was feeling and posted it online the courts would have hard evidence and I would get a longer stay in the crazy house.
So I will fill you in on everything I can think of.

The holidays.
I hate the holidays. I’ve mentioned this before. It’s not really actual hate it’s more of a dislike of the pressure we all have to sit around a table with people we barely see and make chit-chat while shoveling food in your face then open gifts that we can’t afford to buy and really hope the receiver doesn’t hate it but you had no clue what to get for them because, again, you see them a few times a year and never talk. Remember what happened with Thanksgiving? I found out, yet again, I wasn’t pregnant? Fast forward about 30 days. Rinse and repeat. On the 21st I had my appointment to get checked. I was trying not to get my hopes up. I love Candi but I swear on my life her optimism may, in fact, be killing me. I mean that with all love and respect and thankfulness that she is positive for me and the both of us but one of these days I am going to kick her ass. Everything that was going on was a sign that AF was coming…or a sign that Jeremy jr was growing in my womb. I believed the first, Candi the second. I was right, she was wrong. We were both crushed. I HAD been having an ok day or 2 before I found out. I was getting in the Christmas spirit. I was thinking maybe my Christmas miracle was about to happen. Nope. The powers that be told me to go screw myself without a second thought. I should have known this was going to happen after I lost my temper with our car salesman (had to buy a new car the week before Christmas….ridiculous) and called him every name I could think of in a 5 second time span. That’s where my hormones come into play. I ripped this car salesman a new one. Tore him up one side and down the other. I didn’t stop there. I ripped my husband a new one. I ripped a sales guy at Verizon a new one for being a dick and ALMOST threw my phone at him but then I realized I couldn’t afford bail money if I did that.
So. The day the Mayans ran out of room on a rock and caused a lot of crack pots to believe the world would end, I went bat shit crazy. After the doctors and the Verizon incidents, we got in our new car and as I backed up to leave my phone went off. I had a new e-mail. YAY! Maybe this is the e-mail from the company I have been interviewing with for the past month, where I just had an interview with 2 of the owners and I am pretty sure I got this job. So sure in fact that I cleaned out my desk at my current job when I decided to “rage quit” because I only got a 15 cent raise because I am “too loud and don’t know how to stop talking.” I open up the e-mail with excitement. I read: Dear Kristen, Thank you for showing interest in the position however, we have chosen to go with the other candidate…. I stopped reading and threw my phone. I EXPLODED. If spontaneous combustion is real, I should have done it right then and there. My husband looked like he saw a bomb go off in his face and he knew the shock wave was coming for him. I honestly don’t remember the rest of that evening except I cried. I sobbed in fact. I sobbed like I did when we lost the baby. All my “new dreams” had been crushed again. I don’t really remember talking to anyone for a few days. I truly went off the deep end. I am really starting to question my mental stability these days. And of course, like clockwork, Aunt Flo came into town just in time for Christmas and caused me to be an emotional mess the entire holiday.

I read on theinfertilityvoice.com a post about the apocalypse and it really hit home for me. I mean, too close to home. She said: “There may have been moments in your own family building journey: a pregnancy loss, an adoption fall through, or even just another BFN – those days may have felt like your own personal End Times. We don’t need prophets and wackadoos telling us the world is going to end when many of us have lived through a monthly apocalypse of our own.” Amen sister. That is the truth. Many people don’t understand this. They think we are the wackadoos (I am one but still…) My world ended again on Friday the 21st which is freaky but just happened to be a coincidence. The 22nd I woke up and started fresh even though I didn’t really want to. All week I thought about how I shouldn’t be getting another BFN. I should be holding a beautiful baby boy in my arms. I should be fighting for sleep. I should be recovering from bringing new life into this world. Instead, I was crying because of grief. I was trying to make new memories to help heal the scars of my loss. I went to church hoping that I can find my faith that I have lost track of and need to find again. I spent time with my best friend and her family and made fun memories. But I never forgot what I was trying to heal from.
My 2 best friends bought me gifts for Christmas that were perfect. Hilarious and perfect. Candi bought me a book called “I hate everything.” It is perfect. When I start getting upset, I pick this book up and read a few pages and laugh. She knows me way too well. Calley bought me this box that says “Friends will help you up when you fall, but best friends will push you back down and laugh.” Inside she put fertility rocks and crystals and said to put them by my bed since they are supposed to do something. I have 2 of the most amazing friends anyone could ask for. I have an amazing husband (even though sometimes he’s a jerk but he’s working on it and I’m working on not being such a psycho bitch….) and I am very lucky.

Even though my world ended again on the 21st I am very lucky. I’m alive. I have my loved ones, my home, my fur-babies, a job, and a car we are paying way too much for. I am very lucky.

Being thankful doesn’t mean I’m happy

But I am. Currently. So, before my body goes and confirms that I am in fact not pregnant this month and throws me into a temporary depression, I want to take a minute (or a few) to express how much I have to be grateful for. I will continue to be thankful, even through any sadness I may yet encounter. First know in life, I have been dealt a raw deal, many times. I was in an abusive marriage. I am clinically depressed. I struggled with self-injury. I have a laundry list of health issues. I was left by my fiancée months before our wedding, without warning. I have lost two babies and am waiting impatiently for my third pregnancy. I pray to God it ends with a healthy baby in my arms. You know what? Actually looking back at this hand in life that I feel I have unfortunately been dealt, it doesn’t seem so bad at all. I have a wealth of blessings that far out weigh the badness that has happened.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe in God and that all things happen for good for those who believe in him. Not one of the issues I have listed above do I regret. Not one of those things can I not find the silver lining.

I was in an abusive marriage: because of this I joined the military. The military has given me adventure, friendship, education, health benefits, and life experience.

I am clinically depressed: I suffered a long time in silence before I was diagnosed and treated. This goes along with the self-injury issue. I have spent many hours in utter heartbreak and emotional struggles before I was prescribed meds and a therapist. I take away a sense of empathy. I feel that I have been given a better understanding of peoples emotions. I am willing to put my story out there in an attempt to let others know they are not alone. If my pain helps even one person,  I think it’s worth it.

My health issues: they range from hip problems to allergies to migraines to sleep issues to asthma etc. This one is a little harder to find the silver lining, but it could be worse.  I have all of my own parts and pieces. I am able to walk, see, touch, and take care of myself. I am able to experience life.

My fiancée left me: but I ended up with a man that couldn’t have been more perfect for me had I created him myself. Chris has been my rock. My source of laughter and joy. My cheerleader. My lover. My best friend.

I have lost two babies: without my love and eventually grief that came from Jordan and Mason, Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation would have never came about. Yes, it did also involve the loss of Kristen’s son at the same time. I feel if it had only been one of us- we wouldn’t have this same drive and passion for spreading the word on infertility and miscarriage and giving women hope and a place to share their stories.

There is a silver lining in all the bad I have experienced, but I said there is even more that I am grateful for. I have a full time job. I have a roof over my head. My bills are paid. I have a supportive and loving family and friends. I am co-owner of a wonderful company. I have gotten to travel. I have Chris’s two daughters that I love as if they were my own. I am alive. I am well. I have so many things that others would die to have. I have freedom of speech and religion. I have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I do not want for anything, except a child. I may not have it all, but I have so much. I am blessed; I am thankful, and at this moment, before my body betrays me again, I am happy.

Making peope uncomfortable since 1984

Candi and I are sitting at the flea market trying to raise some money for our company and the fertility grant we plan on giving out in the 1st quarter of 2013.  The day started trying to find out how many people we could make uncomfortable by just sitting here.  We have a table set up with all of our jewelry and our raffle ticket info and the prizes behind it.  We are pretty impressed with ourselves.  People started coming in and they take a quick glance at our sign and immediately look away.  There are also the teenagers that walk in, ignore us in general and are dumb.  No one, aside from Candi’s mom, her cousin, and the owner of the shop has given us more than a second look.  There are a few people that have lingered and looked but not much else.  I have enjoyed it because it’s been nice hanging out with Candi and we have been on pinterest all day.  What we have sold has been great because it is a fundraiser for my friend Trisha that is going through infertility issues as well.  I am actually super excited that we have been able to sell somethings for her.

Anyway, we have noticed that any site of our sign immediatly stirs a fear in people.  Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation.  BAM! Right in your face.  I would venture to say there were 25-30 people in and out of that place (this is in a VERY small town outside of another small town).  Of those 30 people, aside from Candi’s mom, 2 people physically stopped and investigated our table.  1 woman with a little girl who was looking at our letters for our jewelry.  The mom had a conversation with us, albeit short, but spoke with us about the company.  The 2nd person was a man who stood back and just looked.  I was happy 2 people looked and didn’t avert their glances after immediately seeing what we were there for.  There were people that walked into the building that I had seen around town.  I knew who they were and yet no one said anything.  This is why we started our company.  We need to raise awareness and help these 2 incredibly difficult topics become something more than shocking or uncomfortable.

Tomorrow I plan to push.  I plan to make more attempts at chatting folks up.  I played it safe today and kept my mouth shut because I didn’t know what to expect and we were eating pumpkin pie.  Tomorrow that pie will not interfere with my need to make people uncomfortable.  I have a lot of plans to continue making people uncomfortable since that seems to be the only way to make them pay attention.  People I work with now know that most of the time I will talk about my uterus or our son that we lost.  Sometimes I can see them being uncomfortable but it lasts a second when they realize they aren’t getting out of the conversation.  I have learned more about people this way in the past few months than I would have ever learned about them if I didn’t push the boundaries.

Push boundaries with me.  When someone tells you something that is rude or something that is meant to help, tell them why you feel it was rude or not the correct thing to say.  I don’t mean everything has to be politically correct….believe me…it doesn’t.  Candi and I told her cousin today that because she has 6 kids, she is a whore.  Very inappropriate but hey, it’s called humor.  I had no problem telling a woman the facts when she told me I wasn’t a real mother because I didn’t have my baby and that he wasn’t alive.  I have no problem reminding people who complain about their kid screaming in the middle of the night that I would give my life for a child to scream for me in the middle of the night.  I do refrain from telling them that if they say that one more time I will knock their teeth out.
So there you have it.  Our first foray into the public and we are doing exactly how I thought we would.  Just perfect.

UTERI Unite!
Yes, I googled that and uteri is the actual plural for uterus…don’t start with me Candi. 🙂

A slightly blurry photo of Kristen and Candi at the Burbank Indoor Flea Market