I still exist…

Hello world.
I am a failure as a blogger. Thank goodness Candi has kept this thing moving but I know it’s been quite stagnant with no posts from either of us lately. So many things have happened since the last time I posted anything.
Of course, Candi is pregnant. I think she has that subject covered. ūüôā
I switched jobs. I left a place that made me miserable and incredibly depressed. I am now working as an office manager and I am super happy…except when people do/say incredibly stupid crap and make me want to smack them. (That just happened…I almost yelled.)
I have started this great weight loss/lifestyle change called Herbalife. I started March 8th and to this date I have lost 20 lbs. That is the most weight I have ever lost in the history of me trying to lose weight. We are hoping that this helps in the baby factory to boost production. I thought maybe I was hallucinating because I couldn’t tell that I was losing any weight until this morning when I realized my pants are super baggy. Crazy for me since my clothes are never baggy.

I had that hsg in January and nothing, nada, zilch. I ovulated with meds for the last couple months but nothing. Depression set in and I decided I needed a break.

And then the shit hit the fan. My dad died. He had been on dialysis for 6 years due to a chronic kidney disease and he decided it was his time to go. This is still pretty raw and will probably need a whole separate blog post because I can barely talk about it without needing a Xanax. We took him to Hospice on the 21st of March. The 22nd I stepped away for a doctor’s appointment. Of course for a pregnancy test/check up at the fertility clinic. I had a good sign and thought I might actually be pregnant and maybe in the back of my mind I could convince my dad to go back on dialysis. I know this was a dumb thought but I had it. Of course I was not pregnant. So on top of all of the emotional stuff I had going on with my dad, I had that to deal with too. Saturday, March 23rd, my dad passed away. I watched my daddy take his last breath surrounded by our family. You say you are ready when someone makes a decision like this but really you are not. Ever. I have a giant hole in my heart now and I know I will forever.

This has been a pretty ridiculous 2013 and I was really wanting this year to be a great year. It has had its ups and downs and it’s only April. That brings me to a whole new world of triggers. 1 year ago, on the 13th, I found out I was pregnant. So, I am on a fertility break. The doctor agreed that this is not the time for me to be trying since I am now being medicated for stress and anxiety and insomnia. I think it’s really about time I go see that shrink. I am hoping that I don’t go completely off the deep end because we know that I am already in the shallows heading my way there.
I promise I won’t be away so much. I will be writing posts as much as I can. I need to get my mind off of everything else, or at least have a place where I can say what I want and not give a damn if anyone is offended. This is all over the place and I know that but please forgive me. I have to blurt it all out and in time it will all be explained bit by bit.
Love to all…my uterus says hi too.

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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.

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. ūüėČ

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 ‚Äď those days may have felt like your own personal End Times. We don‚Äôt 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.

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?

Holidays and the blues

I am a pessimist.  Always have been, always will be.  I think this is part of the reason why I despise the holidays.  My husband, poor Jeremy, gets the brunt of this.  Trying to get pregnant takes a toll on everyone in the family when emotions cloud joy and happiness.  I used to love the holidays.  I probably would already have the house decorated, complete with tree and outside lights.  Usually I have the holiday dinners at my house every year but this year is different.
When we found out I was pregnant in April, one of the very first things I said was “HEY! This baby will be here right around Christmas!!” and my husbands quick response was “And you will not be 9 months pregnant entertaining the entire family in our house!”¬† That was perfectly fine with me.¬† Not knowing if I would be in the hospital having a baby or so tired that I couldn’t cook the normal feast for 15 people made the proclamation from Jeremy completely acceptable.¬† When we lost the baby in June I realized that this plan was probably still the best idea.¬† I knew the holidays would be difficult…way more difficult than usual.¬† I always get incredibly stressed out starting right about now and the stress doesn’t end until the end of the last night of Christmas celebrations.¬† As I worked through my grief in the past few months I thought it wouldn’t be so bad.¬† I tried to tell myself I could get through it with the support from my husband.¬† He said our house would be our “safe haven” when I start feeling overwhelmed we could come home to our quiet house with our fur-babies and relax.¬† Now, 2 days before Thanksgiving, I don’t want to leave my house.¬† I wake up in the morning with this overwhelming feeling of despair but I pick myself up, go to work, and try to make the best of this life I am living.
To make things worse, my appointment with my RE is scheduled for tomorrow.¬† I told the receptionist that this was a cruel joke to give me shit news right before a day of thanks.¬† She reminded me that it’s not always negative news she gives me and to try to be positive.¬† As I said earlier this month, I was trying not to think about it.¬† I tried not to care.¬† That didn’t work so well for me this month.¬† Every day, at one moment or another, I would think about the test.¬† I would think about the fact that I would probably be pissed off tomorrow afternoon.¬† So, I created projects for myself to keep me busy as best I could.¬† I stayed in a good mood.¬† I kept my bitching to a minimum.¬† I tried not to think about the possible cramps or the other feelings you get when you are about to get your monthly curse.
Today was a great day at work.¬† I laughed, got a big part of a project done, got a hug from a very unexpected person who has WAY more crap going on in her life right now than I do (not to mention she’s a mean ass old lady), and I looked forward to coming home to my husband who is on vacation.¬† When I got home, I started getting upset.¬† I started losing my temper.¬† I caught myself becoming a witch.¬† I know the signs of PMS.¬† I know how I get and how my body gets when it gets near to that time of the month.¬† Right now, I am fighting it.¬† I don’t know if you can fight a menstrual cycle but dammit I am trying.

I promise my mom I would cook the turkey, ham, mashed potatoes and bake 3 pies.¬† I feel like a dumbass for agreeing¬†to it¬†because I really don’t want to do any of it.¬† So that’s where I sit.¬† At this exact moment I hate my body, my ovaries, my uterus, the holidays, and pretty much anything else that is going on at the moment.¬† I know we are trying to keep this light and humorous but sometimes that is just physically impossible.¬† I wanted to let you readers know that you don’t have to be ok all of the time.¬† If you feel like throwing a freshly roasted turkey at a wall, it’s normal. I considered asking my husband if we could go out into the country with a bag of potatoes and have target practice.¬† The holidays are difficult for a lot of people and I want you to know that I am right there with you.¬† There is no shame in grieving even if the grief is from a day ago or 35 years ago.

The clich√© thing to say is “be thankful for what you have.”¬† Yeah. Do that but take care of yourself as well.¬† Try not to worry about what others are thinking of you when you avoid a family function because seeing someone may make it that much more difficult for you not to start the family brawl before the gravy hits the table.
Try to relax (hahahaha yeah…I know) and make your holidays the best you can for you.¬† I will probably just eat all of the food and stuff myself until I pass out and don’t wake up until Monday morning.
Much love and hugs.

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 fianc√©e 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 fianc√©e 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.