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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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. 😉

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.

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

Guess who’s (not) coming to dinner!

*I’m really, really wanting to post something crazy funny, but as I’m typing, my words are more sober than happy drunk. I’m not really sure what the opposite of sober is in this situation. Or do I mean somber… Anyways…

So the trouble with grieving (a loss or the inability to conceive) is that it doesn’t stop time. Your friends move on, your family move on, the world keeps on spinning. The AWESOME things about this most recent loss of mine is that I have a good friend, “Megan”, due 2 weeks before I should have been and a cousin, “Devin”, due 2 weeks after. My due date was my grandpa’s birthday, January 26. I have another pregnant best friend, “Liz.” I am surrounded by crazy pregnant hormones and I’m not seeming to be catching whatever it is they have.

Let me back track just a tad. Last month was the wedding of a cousin of mine. We’ll call him “Jeremy.” See above paragraph where I have a pregnant cousin- not the same ones, but yes, same family. Somehow in my excitement for celebrating the marriage of these two lovebirds, Jeremy and “Dani”, I neglected to register that above said pregnant cousin (Devin – wife of cousin “Stevie”) would also be attending said nuptials. Well, as soon as I saw Stevie, I burst into tears. No joke- hysterical- oh-my-gosh-I’m-dying-of-a-broken-heart, sobbing, tears. I excused myself to the bathroom for some tissues, got two quick hugs from cousins, “Gwen” and “Jess”, and headed back to the ceremony. I couldn’t control the raw emotion that overcame me. I felt as if I had just lost Mason, and here it had been 4 months. I continued this awful, ugly, crying throughout the ceremony. I felt HORRIBLE. How would you feel if some crazy psycho made a scene during your wedding???

Fast forward a month, and it’s holiday time! Yay for family get-togethers, lots of delicious food, and happiness. Right? Yeah, no. Sorry family, but here is my public announcement: I will not be attending Thanksgiving. I will not be attending Christmas. I will not be attending any other parties that are between here and the foreseeable future. I do NOT want to be around my (very dear, sweet) pregnant cousin when I should be 2 weeks fatter than her. This is no reflection on her or my family, but on me. I can’t control my emotions. They are raw and horrible. I am still grieving the loss of my son. I do not want to subject my loved ones to yet another (or multiple) scene(s). Nope. I am not gunna do it.

Come January 26, when Mason should be in my arms and instead I’m seeing pictures and announcements and excitement, please excuse me for not sharing your joy. Yes, I am happy for your blessing, but I am still grieving over mine.

I guess my point here isn’t that I’m trying to hide my grief, but that I am trying to contain it just a little. Sometimes you have to do what is best for you, and this time it has the benefit of not upsetting my family. Everyone grieves differently. There is no timeline. There are no rules. There is no “right” or “wrong.” We do what we are able to do on a particular day and rejoice when we realized we’ve survived. We will all survive. We will come out stronger than when we started our journeys and we will have absolutely no clue how we did it, but we will.

Here’s to hope, faith, courage, love, and understanding friends.

P.S. The names I used in this blog are in fact not changed in any way…