It’s been a while: Some exciting news and some boring stuff

It’s been a while since we’ve posted anything. It’s definitely not due to lack of things to say. Sometimes it’s just better to  leave things unsaid. I’ll fill you in on what’s been going on with me and Kristen can fill you in whenever she’s ready. We aren’t leaving out any juicy news or anything. Don’t worry.

So where are we now? By “we” I mean my happy little family. As far as I know, baby is doing well. Today is 18weeks 6 days. That means I am 1 week and 1 day out from the switch from miscarriage to stillbirth territory. Yes, I have been dreading it. God forbid I lose another baby, but if I do, I at least want to make it to 20 weeks. I understand it’s horribly morbid, but stillbirth seems to hold more weight than a miscarriage does, when it comes to public opinion. I still hate talking about my pregnancy to most people. I hate when people ask about it. I hate it all. I should be so excited right? I mean this is what I’ve wanted for so long, but the truth is, I don’t think I’ll be able to breath until I have a healthy, happy baby in my arms. I’m fearful. I’m scared. I’m terrified. Maybe when I start feeling some more movement I’ll feel a little better. Right now I’ve got a couple little bubbles every now and then, but nothing that I’m absolutely sure is baby. Our ultrasound is at the end of the month, so I’ll fill you in if we are having a little miss or a little mister soon! So far, pregnancy after loss is awful when it comes to fears. I just can’t seem to relax and enjoy it at all. I’m waiting for July with open arms.

In other news: Chris and I are getting married!! He asked me about a week and a half ago as we were starting to move into our new house. Yup. We moved. I think I told you that we were planning on it, but we finally got *mostly* moved in this past weekend. So we’re moved, unpacking, getting married, and having a baby! Talk about crazy busy. We haven’t discussed the wedding in too much detail since we’ve been mainly focused on the move, but it’ll probably be this summer before baby is born. It’ll just be a small ceremony, maybe at the courthouse, followed by a smallish reception. We just moved and we’re having a baby, therefore, we are poor. At least poor in the sense of not having a multi-thousand dollar wedding!

I’m taking Chris on his first ever plane ride at the end of the month, too! Engagement, babymoon, our 2 year anniversary, and ultrasound all in one month! Awesome! We’re going to Kansas City to visit my far away best friend who is 5 weeks more pregnant than I am. We almost always have a trip together (Liz and I) for our birthdays, since we are so close together (February 3 and March 3rd.) We’ve got a trip to The Melting Pot planned and lots of fun Kansas City stuff to enjoy. I’m looking forward to the BBQ! I haven’t been to KC since the weekend I met Chris 2 years ago.  I met him on a Friday, left on Saturday for a week in KC, and have only been a part from him maybe 2 weeks total since then. Ain’t love grand 🙂

Well, I think that’s all for now. I’ll try and keep you updated a little better next time.

Sam and me 2.5 weeks ago

Sam and me 2.5 weeks ago

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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

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 🙂

Insensitively: it’s how we roll

I am a very sensitive person. I do not have thick skin; I take things personally and I’m a crier. It’s common knowledge that we, as people, act differently depending on our situation. We may use different language and caution when dealing with superiors or strangers than if we were interacting with our close friends and family. I know Kristen and I told you that we’ll keep things uncensored, but there is a line we try not to cross. However, a can of worms was opened in a post a while back. You may at times find us insensitive and absurd; you may even lose respect for us. As business owners, our lives our out there for the public to see. We want to share our stories with you first hand, so that there is no misunderstanding in the future. We aren’t perfect. We’re human.

Kristen told you in a previous post, back when we were working at the flea market, that we called my cousin a whore. Please know, 1) we said it to her face, 2) we said it in jest, 3) we do not mean that she is literally a whore, 4) we do not discriminate: all pregnant women and women with children that we know (and love) are aware that we call them whores. We use it as a term of endearment. And maybe also out of jealousy.

Like previously mentioned, we act differently when faced with different situations and different people. After a loss, we grieve. Each person grieves differently. Kristen and I make ourselves feel better by saying since we aren’t teenagers or whores, we can’t stay pregnant. We constantly joke that if we were whores, maybe we’d have babies too… Well it was that month, after my “whore” cousin wished baby juju on us and Chris joked about giving me money after sex, that I did indeed get pregnant. I am now a whore, and proud of it! Maybe we were right after all!

***We know that teenagers and women who get pregnant unplanned also experience loss and complications. Pregnancy loss, stillbirth, and infant loss do not discriminate. It’s a difficult process for anyone involved, whether your pregnancy was planned or not. We are not being hateful, we are just telling you how we are coping, hoping you can see the difference between a joke and actual hate.***

It all started when I lost Mason. Chris was trying to make me feel better and he mentioned that no one ever said growing a human was easy. Through my tears, I responded with, “except for teenagers and whores.”

We live in a society that glamorizes teen pregnancy and almost encourages single parenthood by way of government assistance. I know some very good moms that got pregnant at teenagers and I also know some really bad ones. I actually have a cousin who will becoming a grandma in her early 30s because her stepson (16) is having a baby with his girlfriend (15) in March. Of course they had no problems with their pregnancy.

Chris and I plan to get married sometime in the future, but we would technically be better off financially, if we didn’t. I could apply for Medicaid and WIC, if not other government assistance programs. **Please, don’t think that I am putting down single parents or those who need government assistance. I am for government assistance when needed. I am going to school to be a social worker- I deal with government assistance. Chris is a bricklayer who builds houses in low-income neighborhoods. I am a disabled veteran. I receive government benefits. I know some pretty kick-ass single moms (and dads). Government assistance is awesome, when not used as a way of life.

I don’t remember how it happened, but shortly after the loss of Mason, the “whore” fad exploded. I made an e-card that I’ve received a lot of hate and mean comments over, but if you’re insulted, screw you- you’re probably a whore. 😉

babies

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.

When “eating for two” means using two forks

Today we had an impromptu-ish mother and daughter lunch at Olive Garden. It was my mom and me, my aunt and her daughter (and her 2 daughters) and daughter-in-law, daughter-in-law’s mom, and me. My cravings with this pregnancy and the last has been salad with vinaigrette dressing, pickles, fruit, and orange juice. I’ve been waiting for Olive garden salad for about a week. When the salad finally came out- I ate 3 big bowls. I didn’t eat the ravioli that I ordered, just the salad. And it was delicious. Anyway, halfway through my salads I stopped for a brief second from shoveling food in my face, and when I looked down, I had two forks in my bowl. I had been eating with two forks. It was hilarious, but I was embarrassed at the same time. My lovely ladies cracked some jokes about feeding me and giving me extra forks, since I obviously, didn’t have enough.

Pregnancy brain does crazy things to a person. This wasn’t the first incident I’ve had. Funny thing is I can’t even remember half of them at the moment! Let’s see… Um… Oh!

  • I was driving Kristen to her husband’s work yesterday and she told me I was pregnant. I had to stop for a second and process what she was saying. I had forgotten.
  • I almost charged a customer $100 on a bill 2 weeks ago at work.
  • I forgot how old I was when the doctor asked. (This is a normal occurrence though.)
  • I confused the date for the family holiday party.
  • I forgot to add the photo for the Lotus Be giveaway today.

Who knows what’s going on at this point. Ask Kristen. She’ll have to be my brain for the next 7 months. 🙂

 

 

I’m dreaming of a full uterus.

I had a dream last night that I am pregnant.  I hate those dreams.  I wake up in a panic thinking I need to call the doctor or take a test or something.  It’s never pleasant when I burst into tears 4 seconds after waking up.  Luckily my husband slept through it all and  I could get up and on my way to work.  I think a lot of this has to do with so much “baby” stuff going on.  Obviously, Candi is pregnant which is awesome but I find myself acting like that 10-year-old that didn’t get that really cool toy for Christmas and will spend the next few weeks feeling like a failure.  I love you Candi…I love the baby…this is just how I feel I am acting and I feel like a fool.  I have several friends that are getting ready or have already had their babies.  I should be doing that.  I should be getting ready to squeeze a giant head through my loins.  So, as I was with Thanksgiving, I am grouchy.  I am the actual Grinch.

I had a great weekend.  I got to spend time with my husband and accomplish things that I had on my “to-do” list for a while.  I actually enjoyed myself.  Until yesterday afternoon.  I have no idea what set me off but I had a melt down.  I began freaking out at everyone.  I yelled at my husband for no reason.  I threatened to blow up Walmart…yeah…I still hate that store.  I threatened to drive my car into a pole or something (please don’t worry about me, I’m ok…not suicidal…just extremely hormonal and my car was really pissing me off.)  There are a lot of things that may be changing in my life with work and the husbands work and what not and I am in panic mode.  So, yesterday was bad.
I keep trying to make myself not such a bitch.  As with everyone else in the world, we have a million things going on.  I keep trying to fit in fertility treatments into the schedule and that is making things worse.  We “tried” again this month.  I will find out 4 days before Christmas.  I don’t know what I think about any of it.  Right now I’m trying to keep myself a float in the crazy mess I have created for myself.  I used to have my house decorated by now.  Yesterday I threatened to burn my fake tree that is still in the box in the basement.  I just don’t know what to do with myself.  If you feel like this…you are not alone.  This psycho is right there with you.

This is what infertility does to you.  This is what happens when you lose a baby.  Well, I should say it could happen to you unless you are one of those disgustingly perky folks that some call optimists.  I have told Candi the she has to keep being the optimist because i have no optimistic bones in my body.  I married an optimist.  It makes me sick sometimes.  Sometimes I just want to be angry or miserable.  I pull out of it but sometimes I just need to be mad.  This baby stuff just adds to the anger.  So, here’s me trying to be better and not so Grinchy.  When I get home today, I will clean my house (I say that everyday) and I will put my wreath on the door.  1 step at a time right?

Baby, I love you, but…

Captains Blog: CD42. 25DPO. hCG is continuing to rise. We are up almost to 2000 as of Friday’s blood draw. Let’s see. I had blood drawn Thanksgiving week, last Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and again today. I’m about sick of this junk. Baby, I love you, but I hate having my arms poked at every day.

I’m super tired. I sleep all the time. Except for at night. What is it? 1:00 am? I wish you’d get on the same sleep schedule as me. Baby, I love you, but I don’t like pregnancy insomnia.

Nausea is slowly creeping up. Last time I was pregnant my hCG levels were a LOT higher than they are now and I had really bad nausea/vomiting. Mason “Bug” Sombati got his nickname because I threw up on myself after eating an apple in the car. I was driving. I was 6 weeks pregnant. I told people I had a “bug.” Baby, I love you, but I don’t love feeling sick.

Headaches. I’ve had headaches just about every day with this kid. With Mason, I had very few and I was loving that aspect of pregnancy. I normally have headaches and migraines a lot, so the break was awesome. Not this time though. Headaches daily and migraines weekly. I have to watch what I eat. Baby, I love you, but I don’t love this pain.

Brain fuzz. My dad’s nickname for me on a regular day is “Goldfish.” I have the worst memory every and 3 seconds about covers it. Imagine my pregnancy stupidity at this point… Baby, I love you, but something’s are important and I have to remember them.

Hunger strikes. Not the kind of hunger strike where I just don’t eat. The kind of hunger that wakes me up at 3am after I have fallen asleep only 2 hours prior and turns me into a vicious tiger on the hunt. My normal go to snacks are pudding cups and graham crackers. Hey- who wants to cook at in the middle of the night? Baby, I love you, but I am going to go poor keeping up with my your appetite.

No one seems to be worried about this pregnancy but me. I’m freaking out. Freak-Ing-Out. So much so that I made *ing* a new word. I had a mini/micro breakdown today after I left the doctors office and they said as long as my blood work comes back good they’ll schedule me for more when they do my ultrasound in a few weeks… A few weeks?! I lost 1 baby at 6 weeks and another at 9. Well Mase was a blighted ovum, but seriously- get that probe in my belly and tell me there is an actual child in there. Sesame seed, apple seed, poppy seed- I don’t care how small it is I just want to see something other than a blank blob. Baby, I love you, but I can’t stand the thought of losing you.

Baby, my love for you started long before you were conceived. I dreamt of you. I wished for you. I prayed for you. I loved you. You’re brother and sister are waiting in Heaven and it’s all fine and dandy if you can’t wait to meet them, but please wait until you’ve done lived a beautiful, long life. Baby, I love you, but I feel so helpless not being able to protect you and make sure you are born.

Pregnancy symptoms sometimes suck. Sometimes I’ll get emotional and sick and angry and hurt and worried and tired and be pricked with needles and pass out. Baby, I love you, but and there isn’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you already, as my almost 6 week old little love.

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We are expecting: a nervous breakdown

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Anyway, the longer we are ttc, the more freaked out I get. Think about it. The first pregnancy you are happy and excited and minimally concerned for miscarriage. It won’t happen to you. Nope. You and your baby are invincible. … Continue reading