I love Fair Season.
Anyone who lives in a small, agriculturally-based area knows what I am talking about. I look forward to Fall in and of itself, but it is really the Fair that gets me going. Our favorite is coming up in about 6 days and I can't wait. It really brings out the former 4-H-er in me, and suddenly I am really excited about seeing things such as glass jars full of peaches with a blue ribbon hanging off of them, livestock that I usually eat, teenagers trying so hard to be cool, even though they are standing beside a game that gives away stuffed animals, and of course, the Jesus floats.
What is a Jesus float, you ask?
Well, somehow in our area no one thinks it strange that every other float in a parade includes a man dressed up like Jesus, usually surrounded by a crowd of angels pumping out loud gospel music. And as these floats are often sponsored by banks and trucking companies, I can only guess that these angels (and Jesus too) have to get up for work as a bank teller the next morning.
Speaking of parades, there are always plenty of costumed characters bobbing up and down the parade route, some slightly inappropriate. We always look forward to the representative of a local bakery; you would think that a donut would be the best character, but this shop has chosen instead the Long John. Don't know what a Long John is? It's a cylindrical, hot dog shaped confection, but created into an upright parade costume, you can probably picture a certain part of the male anatomy that this resembles. I'll bet they fight over who gets to wear it.
My daughter is scared to death of Mr. Long John, and any other costumed character that might amble her way. I will never forget two years ago when she was curled up on her Poppy's lap next to me, who was enjoying having my lap to myself for the first time in almost 2 years and was blissfully examining a Jesus float. All of a sudden I notice that my daughter is screaming bloody murder. I look over to find the giant , man-sized Sonic milkshake hovering over her, frantically waving and not noticing that he was scaring the bejesus out out of a toddler. I actually had to grab his arm and politely ask that he move along...his work was done. I think my step-dad still bears scars on his arms from her clawing for her life. Luckily we visited our first Sonic this summer and found that she did not suffer flashbacks.
So here is my chance to visit my husband's hometown, remember twirling my flag in that parade just 18 short years ago, help my daughter win yet one more "fair fish", and eat fried oreos. To me, there is nothing better.
I just hope Jesus and the angels throw out some tootsie rolls from their float. I love them.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
A Year...
A year ago today... Chad and I walked into our first appointment, our 10 week appointment with Dr. Eichenlaub, expecting to hear our little one's heartbeat. It had been a long, hard 10 weeks and I had not been feeling well. The odd thing was, two days earlier I had turned a corner. I was feeling so much better, and I even told the doctor about the change. He did the normal first appointment housekeeping, I was given a journal by the nurse, weighed, on and on. But deep down I was still sick inside. Just let me hear...get that stupid doppler...I need to hear it...
Finally the doppler was placed on my belly. And nothing. Just silence. It did not cause immediate panic; I remembered that it had been hard to find Mia's heartbeat at the first appointment but eventually did.
I could see it written all over Dr. E's face. He took me out in the hall and instructed the nurse to get me in for an ultrasound as soon as possible. "To rule out twins!" he assured me. But I saw it there on the orders: "For purpose of: Viability." Miraculously we were able to get an appointment the next day. I was in shock driving back to work; however I will never in my life forget the song that played from the moment I got into my car until I reached work: "Let It Be," By Paul McCartney of the Beatles.
It was an awful 24 hours. It was the first week of school and I was insanely busy which turned out to be a blessing. I could stare at my computer screen and wish the hours away.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me..."
Soon I was in the ultrasound room with Chad holding my hand. The tech was not friendly or chatty, especially when she tried the ultrasound of my belly. She quickly stopped and told us she was switching to a transvaginal to get a better view of the baby. She said, "now, I am going to have the screen down here near me, so you won't be able to see it just yet." Little did she know that I have had many ultrasounds done for various reasons and they have never had to pull the screen so far away from me that I couldn't see it. This was not going well. After a few types on her keyboard she quickly finished, hopped up and left the room.
"Speaking words of wisdom, 'Let it Be'..."
We sat and waited. And waited. About a half hour later, she finally came back and thrust a telephone at me. "It's Dr. Eichenlaub," she said and flew from the room again. And I was not surprised at all to hear the words we dreaded, that our baby had died. His frustration was evident as he told me, "Alison, this just happened. Your baby stopped developing at 9 weeks, 2 days." Chad cried as his face was against my shoulder. My crisis instincts took over and I solemnly made plans for surgery the next morning. And then I had to drive home by myself.
The next few days went so fast. We made all of the calls to family. They came over and helped us cope. They cried with us and for us. And somehow we carried on. We still had to take care of Mia, and Chad was just about to start a new job. Life went on, and this little baby became a memory. We had to stop talking about it to others because it soon becomes clear that people expect you to get over it and stop discussing such a sad topic. And I thought I had flown through recovery.
"Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, oh let it be..."
In January it hit me like a ton of bricks, possibly because it was time to start trying again. That is when I think I started working on my true feelings now that the numbness had worn off. The feelings were raw and full of anger, often directed towards God. And that is when I started this blog, which never turns out exactly the way I had planned. I found a community of women on the internet who have helped me because they too have felt all of these feelings and allow me to feel them.
And here we are, a year later expecting our third child. I never take the pregnancy or my family for granted because I have seen something very precious be taken away from me in an instant. I know what it is like to feel so out of control, yet pulled to lay it at someone else's feet. And while I will not relax until this baby is in my arms, I feel like everything we have gone through in the past year has helped me get to here.
Let it be.
Finally the doppler was placed on my belly. And nothing. Just silence. It did not cause immediate panic; I remembered that it had been hard to find Mia's heartbeat at the first appointment but eventually did.
I could see it written all over Dr. E's face. He took me out in the hall and instructed the nurse to get me in for an ultrasound as soon as possible. "To rule out twins!" he assured me. But I saw it there on the orders: "For purpose of: Viability." Miraculously we were able to get an appointment the next day. I was in shock driving back to work; however I will never in my life forget the song that played from the moment I got into my car until I reached work: "Let It Be," By Paul McCartney of the Beatles.
It was an awful 24 hours. It was the first week of school and I was insanely busy which turned out to be a blessing. I could stare at my computer screen and wish the hours away.
"When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me..."
Soon I was in the ultrasound room with Chad holding my hand. The tech was not friendly or chatty, especially when she tried the ultrasound of my belly. She quickly stopped and told us she was switching to a transvaginal to get a better view of the baby. She said, "now, I am going to have the screen down here near me, so you won't be able to see it just yet." Little did she know that I have had many ultrasounds done for various reasons and they have never had to pull the screen so far away from me that I couldn't see it. This was not going well. After a few types on her keyboard she quickly finished, hopped up and left the room.
"Speaking words of wisdom, 'Let it Be'..."
We sat and waited. And waited. About a half hour later, she finally came back and thrust a telephone at me. "It's Dr. Eichenlaub," she said and flew from the room again. And I was not surprised at all to hear the words we dreaded, that our baby had died. His frustration was evident as he told me, "Alison, this just happened. Your baby stopped developing at 9 weeks, 2 days." Chad cried as his face was against my shoulder. My crisis instincts took over and I solemnly made plans for surgery the next morning. And then I had to drive home by myself.
The next few days went so fast. We made all of the calls to family. They came over and helped us cope. They cried with us and for us. And somehow we carried on. We still had to take care of Mia, and Chad was just about to start a new job. Life went on, and this little baby became a memory. We had to stop talking about it to others because it soon becomes clear that people expect you to get over it and stop discussing such a sad topic. And I thought I had flown through recovery.
"Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, oh let it be..."
In January it hit me like a ton of bricks, possibly because it was time to start trying again. That is when I think I started working on my true feelings now that the numbness had worn off. The feelings were raw and full of anger, often directed towards God. And that is when I started this blog, which never turns out exactly the way I had planned. I found a community of women on the internet who have helped me because they too have felt all of these feelings and allow me to feel them.
And here we are, a year later expecting our third child. I never take the pregnancy or my family for granted because I have seen something very precious be taken away from me in an instant. I know what it is like to feel so out of control, yet pulled to lay it at someone else's feet. And while I will not relax until this baby is in my arms, I feel like everything we have gone through in the past year has helped me get to here.
Let it be.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Finally...
Here I am, or rather, here we are... in week 28; a little more than 10 weeks to go until we are a family of 4. This week has been a little bit of a transition but I can't exactly put my finger on why I am suddenly thinking "when" and not "if". But all of a sudden in the past few days I have actually started getting excited about having a baby.
I am thinking about baby shopping at Babies R Us. I am thinking about what the heck we are going to do about Thanksgiving and Christmas with a newborn. I am thinking about seeing Chad hold his new son or daughter. I am wondering how in the world Mia is going to cope with the loss of her kingdom (or princess-dom?!) and share her parents. I am actually thinking beyond the next minute.
The big question will be getting through the next two weeks and past the awful anniversary that is September 7th. I think I have been so sad thinking back to last August--it was the main month that I was pregnant last year and the most notable in that short 10 weeks, the one that I remember. I remember camping at State College, walking across the stage to get my diploma, coming back to the start of the school year, registering all of the students, dealing with faculty, all the while feeling like crap.
And then September was a big blur.
Yesterday I was putting important fall dates into my calendar and pulled out the one that I used last year to see if I was forgetting anything...nothing. I barely had anything written in September 2007. I went back to the previous year's calendar thinking maybe I had just used the page for September from that one (school calendars go Sept to Aug). Nope. I literally did not write down anything in September last year. Usually it is one of my favorite and busiest months but last year I think I was just in shock. How did I do it? How did I get up every morning, do my job, come home and be a wife and mother when I was just a shell? The mind is a curious thing, and somehow it's like that month was little more than vapor.
So if I can get past September 7, I think I will feel like I am in the home stretch. While I still feel that nagging feeling that it all can change at any moment and head south, I guess I will believe a little bit more.
I am thinking about baby shopping at Babies R Us. I am thinking about what the heck we are going to do about Thanksgiving and Christmas with a newborn. I am thinking about seeing Chad hold his new son or daughter. I am wondering how in the world Mia is going to cope with the loss of her kingdom (or princess-dom?!) and share her parents. I am actually thinking beyond the next minute.
The big question will be getting through the next two weeks and past the awful anniversary that is September 7th. I think I have been so sad thinking back to last August--it was the main month that I was pregnant last year and the most notable in that short 10 weeks, the one that I remember. I remember camping at State College, walking across the stage to get my diploma, coming back to the start of the school year, registering all of the students, dealing with faculty, all the while feeling like crap.
And then September was a big blur.
Yesterday I was putting important fall dates into my calendar and pulled out the one that I used last year to see if I was forgetting anything...nothing. I barely had anything written in September 2007. I went back to the previous year's calendar thinking maybe I had just used the page for September from that one (school calendars go Sept to Aug). Nope. I literally did not write down anything in September last year. Usually it is one of my favorite and busiest months but last year I think I was just in shock. How did I do it? How did I get up every morning, do my job, come home and be a wife and mother when I was just a shell? The mind is a curious thing, and somehow it's like that month was little more than vapor.
So if I can get past September 7, I think I will feel like I am in the home stretch. While I still feel that nagging feeling that it all can change at any moment and head south, I guess I will believe a little bit more.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Hitting a rough spot
First off, there is nothing wrong. Let me just start with that. As far as I know, everything is progressing normally, I'm feeling normal amounts of movement today.
But I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. However, in a person diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, that is pretty much a baseling feeling. I always feel like I am just seconds away from the next big bombshell in my life. My major issue is that I am constantly feeling like I could lose everything in an instant, and that instant will happen right...now. Whenever I am having a really good moment with Mia, or she does something that is just simply adorable the first thought in my head is to preserve that memory like a stamp so that when she's not around anymore, I will still have it. Notice I said, "WHEN", not "IF" she's not around. I'm just so afraid of losing her in an instant that it sometimes preoccupies my thoughts.
And now I am transferring those feelings to this baby who is not even born yet. Yesterday was just an off day. I didn't feel good--too much food like beans and raw broccoli this weekend. I don't know if there just wasn't enough room for the little stinker to move around in there with all of my bloat, but I hardly felt him/her move all day. The baby had been so active Saturday night that Mia actually felt the "bumps" from the outside; so this was to me a drastic change. I couldn't get it out of my mind all day.
In church we have a guest minister, who happens to be the dad of a high school friend. I have found myself really enjoying his words and humor, it's kind of like a friendly grandpa telling stories. He ended his sermon yesterday reminding us that bad things happen and it is not always for us to immediately understand why or how they might fit into God's plan. The tears came back, as they always do the million and one times someone has said that to me since we lost our baby last September. I don't hate the words as much as I used to, but I still just trip right over them. With the crummy way I ended up feeling yesterday, were his words foreshadowing? Should I prepare myself for yet another bad thing to happen? Is God going to take away this child as well before I have a chance to know him/her?
I can't even bring myself to believing that I will actually give birth to a baby on November 7th. I don't hear the words coming out of the OB's mouth that everything looks good and is progressing normally. I find myself fixated on his news that the ultrasound technician was not able to get a great scan of the baby's heart when the procedure was done. I didn't hear that there is most likely nothing wrong, because if there was, she would have seen it. I am just second- and third-guessing our decision to not repeat the ultrasound.
I'm just waiting for the bad news.
But I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. However, in a person diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, that is pretty much a baseling feeling. I always feel like I am just seconds away from the next big bombshell in my life. My major issue is that I am constantly feeling like I could lose everything in an instant, and that instant will happen right...now. Whenever I am having a really good moment with Mia, or she does something that is just simply adorable the first thought in my head is to preserve that memory like a stamp so that when she's not around anymore, I will still have it. Notice I said, "WHEN", not "IF" she's not around. I'm just so afraid of losing her in an instant that it sometimes preoccupies my thoughts.
And now I am transferring those feelings to this baby who is not even born yet. Yesterday was just an off day. I didn't feel good--too much food like beans and raw broccoli this weekend. I don't know if there just wasn't enough room for the little stinker to move around in there with all of my bloat, but I hardly felt him/her move all day. The baby had been so active Saturday night that Mia actually felt the "bumps" from the outside; so this was to me a drastic change. I couldn't get it out of my mind all day.
In church we have a guest minister, who happens to be the dad of a high school friend. I have found myself really enjoying his words and humor, it's kind of like a friendly grandpa telling stories. He ended his sermon yesterday reminding us that bad things happen and it is not always for us to immediately understand why or how they might fit into God's plan. The tears came back, as they always do the million and one times someone has said that to me since we lost our baby last September. I don't hate the words as much as I used to, but I still just trip right over them. With the crummy way I ended up feeling yesterday, were his words foreshadowing? Should I prepare myself for yet another bad thing to happen? Is God going to take away this child as well before I have a chance to know him/her?
I can't even bring myself to believing that I will actually give birth to a baby on November 7th. I don't hear the words coming out of the OB's mouth that everything looks good and is progressing normally. I find myself fixated on his news that the ultrasound technician was not able to get a great scan of the baby's heart when the procedure was done. I didn't hear that there is most likely nothing wrong, because if there was, she would have seen it. I am just second- and third-guessing our decision to not repeat the ultrasound.
I'm just waiting for the bad news.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Everything's "normal"
Here we are, at week 19 with all test results coming back "normal". This is shaping up to be similar to my pregnancy with Mia, only minus the pain from the gallstones (had that sucker removed last year). Now we wrestle with another matter, one that I cannot believe I am facing. What do we do AFTER this baby is born to make sure it is our last?
That sounds crazy, coming from someone who worked so hard for a year to get pregnant. But those memories are fresh. I don't ever want to go through this again. I don't want to temp, have to pee on a stick, or face these nerve-wracking doctors appointments and ultrasounds.
The kink in this is that our health insurance does not cover birth control, although my sister claims that it paid for her IUD (she and Chad have the same employer). The alternative to shelling out great sums of money out of pocket for the rest of my child-bearing years is of course more permanant. I will be having this baby by a planned c-section and my OB is willing to do a tubal ligation at the same time, as long as I am 100% sure.
When I brought this up with Chad, his first response was, "is it reversible?" OK, I said, there is our answer right there. Even the fact that you are thinking about future children tells me that we can't do this. Dr. Eichenlaub agreed. He said, "you guys can't even be 99.5% on this. I need 100%."
But knowing the worst case scenarios that are possible, I am afraid something bad will happen and I will end up feeling it was a mistake. I told Chad that I feel like I am messing around with God a little bit. What if something happens with this baby? What if I lose a child? There goes my chance to have another. But then I think that no child is ever a replacement for another; certainly after a miscarriage I understand that.
So I go back to that feeling of never wanting to be pregnant again. And the anxiety circle begins again.
I am hoping that I feel better after my 20 week ultrasound next week and feel like I have some answers.
That sounds crazy, coming from someone who worked so hard for a year to get pregnant. But those memories are fresh. I don't ever want to go through this again. I don't want to temp, have to pee on a stick, or face these nerve-wracking doctors appointments and ultrasounds.
The kink in this is that our health insurance does not cover birth control, although my sister claims that it paid for her IUD (she and Chad have the same employer). The alternative to shelling out great sums of money out of pocket for the rest of my child-bearing years is of course more permanant. I will be having this baby by a planned c-section and my OB is willing to do a tubal ligation at the same time, as long as I am 100% sure.
When I brought this up with Chad, his first response was, "is it reversible?" OK, I said, there is our answer right there. Even the fact that you are thinking about future children tells me that we can't do this. Dr. Eichenlaub agreed. He said, "you guys can't even be 99.5% on this. I need 100%."
But knowing the worst case scenarios that are possible, I am afraid something bad will happen and I will end up feeling it was a mistake. I told Chad that I feel like I am messing around with God a little bit. What if something happens with this baby? What if I lose a child? There goes my chance to have another. But then I think that no child is ever a replacement for another; certainly after a miscarriage I understand that.
So I go back to that feeling of never wanting to be pregnant again. And the anxiety circle begins again.
I am hoping that I feel better after my 20 week ultrasound next week and feel like I have some answers.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Wow, a long coming update
I can't believe it's been so long now. And here I am, still very much pregnant, and very thankful. This week I have finally allowed myself to feel like this is going to happen. I have tried to stop myself from thinking that anything I do is going to jinx it. I got out my maternity clothes and have even worn some of them to work. We have started talking openly to Mia about the fact that she is going to be a big sister. (She's confused, by the way...she keeps talking about the baby in HER belly and how SHE is going to be a mommy...someday, Mia. Someday a looooooooooooong time from now.)
We had our 14 week appointment on Monday, and I found out that I have only gained 1/2 lb. since my 10 week appointment. Dr. E jumped all over that and asked what was going on. I told him that at the beginning of May, right after we moved, I got very sick and lost about 5 lbs. in as many days. He seemed to let it go at that, but told me to basically let the weight gain begin! I told him that I gained too much with Mia (about 50 lbs) and stopped short of saying that I am doing anything I can to avoid that happening again. I am not restricting food, but I feel like I am eating much better. With Mia, just about all I could eat at this point were carbs like milk, ice cream, bread, waffles, and McChicken sandwiches. I was also not running around after a toddler.
Basically I am petrified of breaking the 200-lb mark again. Granted, that happened when I was 41 weeks and miserable after the foodfest of Christmas 2004, but I am just afraid that I will never lose that weight. It's so vain, but I want to be healthy too.
Anyway, on matters other than weight, Chad and I made a sudden decision to go ahead with the quad screen. I wasn't going to, but now I want to be prepared. Up to this point my feeling has been that it would be near impossible for me to terminate a pregnancy if something were really wrong. After going through a D&C that was definitely not my choice, I can't imagine making that decision on my own.
But now I feel like we need to be ready for whatever might happen. There is no history of birth defects in my family, but there was no history of miscarriage either and that happened to me.
The baby, which I am pretty sure has a wee-wee, is up really high in my lower abdomen. I was shocked when Dr. E pointed out where my uterus is. I knew that I could feel the bottom of something right below my belly button, but I had no clue that it was the baby. I guess I figured that like my previous pregnancy, at this point the bottom of my uterus would still be tucked down in my pelvis. Weird.
That made it very hard to get a heartbeat reading, although it was definitely there. Maybe baby is towards the back; Dr. E. says he has absolutely no concerns that this baby implanted anywhere near my C-section scar or my cervix--it's not even close!
All of this talk made it much easier for me to accept that this pregnancy is going to stick. I had caught myself getting excited up to now, always stopping myself with, "you're not lucky enough to really have a baby." I can be really cruel to myself.
Next appointment is in June, and quad-screen test will be sometime next week, when I am 15 weeks.
We had our 14 week appointment on Monday, and I found out that I have only gained 1/2 lb. since my 10 week appointment. Dr. E jumped all over that and asked what was going on. I told him that at the beginning of May, right after we moved, I got very sick and lost about 5 lbs. in as many days. He seemed to let it go at that, but told me to basically let the weight gain begin! I told him that I gained too much with Mia (about 50 lbs) and stopped short of saying that I am doing anything I can to avoid that happening again. I am not restricting food, but I feel like I am eating much better. With Mia, just about all I could eat at this point were carbs like milk, ice cream, bread, waffles, and McChicken sandwiches. I was also not running around after a toddler.
Basically I am petrified of breaking the 200-lb mark again. Granted, that happened when I was 41 weeks and miserable after the foodfest of Christmas 2004, but I am just afraid that I will never lose that weight. It's so vain, but I want to be healthy too.
Anyway, on matters other than weight, Chad and I made a sudden decision to go ahead with the quad screen. I wasn't going to, but now I want to be prepared. Up to this point my feeling has been that it would be near impossible for me to terminate a pregnancy if something were really wrong. After going through a D&C that was definitely not my choice, I can't imagine making that decision on my own.
But now I feel like we need to be ready for whatever might happen. There is no history of birth defects in my family, but there was no history of miscarriage either and that happened to me.
The baby, which I am pretty sure has a wee-wee, is up really high in my lower abdomen. I was shocked when Dr. E pointed out where my uterus is. I knew that I could feel the bottom of something right below my belly button, but I had no clue that it was the baby. I guess I figured that like my previous pregnancy, at this point the bottom of my uterus would still be tucked down in my pelvis. Weird.
That made it very hard to get a heartbeat reading, although it was definitely there. Maybe baby is towards the back; Dr. E. says he has absolutely no concerns that this baby implanted anywhere near my C-section scar or my cervix--it's not even close!
All of this talk made it much easier for me to accept that this pregnancy is going to stick. I had caught myself getting excited up to now, always stopping myself with, "you're not lucky enough to really have a baby." I can be really cruel to myself.
Next appointment is in June, and quad-screen test will be sometime next week, when I am 15 weeks.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
A numbers game
So we are back in the rollercoaster, climbing up the hill...feeling that our throats will close to make room for our stomachs which have decided to jump up...
...Pregnant again.
I have so many mixed feelings about this. To be perfectly honest, this was the one month in the past year that I truly would have been OK to NOT see the plus sign. Our timing was off, I could not tell when I even ovulated, and the week prior to finding out was seriously one of the most stressful in our lives.
We had just listed our house for sale on March 1 and to our utter shock, had it sold on March 4. We had no prospects for a new house lined up, so we went into house-search overdrive. Everything we looked at was just crap. I had visions of putting all of our stuff into storage and moving in with Mom, Rich and Grandma...every night I prayed to God to please, please send us a house. And He did--after just 5 days of looking, we ended up in the perfect house, even priced below market. We jumped to make an offer when the house had only been on the market 2 days, only to be told that the owners were in Vermont on a skiing vacation and wouldn't be able to see the offer for a few days.
Again I prayed. A lot. I also made myself so sick with worry that I actually did become physically ill. I put it in God's hands, and by some miracle, the owner had the offer faxed to him in Vermont and accepted it with no contingencies the same day we made the offer. The following week was a continuation of the stress as we now had inspections to complete and approve. My heart was in my throat all week, but in the back of my mind I knew that an important date was looming, and then passed...my period being due.
I refused to test, vividly remembering last month's experience and the fact that I had a positive pregnancy test as late as the day before my period was due, only to end up with a chemical pregnancy. I argued with my chart, justifying that my period wasn't really due on Tuesday, but probably Wednesday. When Wednesday came and went, I had to face the truth and get the little test out of the box.
Of course it was positive. And the one I took two days later was still positive. And the blood tests that the OB ordered showed very nice doubling. I just can't believe that God would think that THIS was the month for us to get pregnant--He seems to have a very interesting insight...
We are now looking at a higher mortgage payment and TWO daycare tuitions this time next year. How in the heck will this work?! But I put my faith in Him with the whole house thing and He is really coming through for us. How can I not trust that we will be OK?
...Pregnant again.
I have so many mixed feelings about this. To be perfectly honest, this was the one month in the past year that I truly would have been OK to NOT see the plus sign. Our timing was off, I could not tell when I even ovulated, and the week prior to finding out was seriously one of the most stressful in our lives.
We had just listed our house for sale on March 1 and to our utter shock, had it sold on March 4. We had no prospects for a new house lined up, so we went into house-search overdrive. Everything we looked at was just crap. I had visions of putting all of our stuff into storage and moving in with Mom, Rich and Grandma...every night I prayed to God to please, please send us a house. And He did--after just 5 days of looking, we ended up in the perfect house, even priced below market. We jumped to make an offer when the house had only been on the market 2 days, only to be told that the owners were in Vermont on a skiing vacation and wouldn't be able to see the offer for a few days.
Again I prayed. A lot. I also made myself so sick with worry that I actually did become physically ill. I put it in God's hands, and by some miracle, the owner had the offer faxed to him in Vermont and accepted it with no contingencies the same day we made the offer. The following week was a continuation of the stress as we now had inspections to complete and approve. My heart was in my throat all week, but in the back of my mind I knew that an important date was looming, and then passed...my period being due.
I refused to test, vividly remembering last month's experience and the fact that I had a positive pregnancy test as late as the day before my period was due, only to end up with a chemical pregnancy. I argued with my chart, justifying that my period wasn't really due on Tuesday, but probably Wednesday. When Wednesday came and went, I had to face the truth and get the little test out of the box.
Of course it was positive. And the one I took two days later was still positive. And the blood tests that the OB ordered showed very nice doubling. I just can't believe that God would think that THIS was the month for us to get pregnant--He seems to have a very interesting insight...
We are now looking at a higher mortgage payment and TWO daycare tuitions this time next year. How in the heck will this work?! But I put my faith in Him with the whole house thing and He is really coming through for us. How can I not trust that we will be OK?
Monday, February 11, 2008
"It wasn't meant to be..."
I never thought I would be bothered so much by these words that I, myself have uttered so many times. But I found myself getting irritated last night when my sister said this to me after I spent the morning at the ER finding out that I am not, in fact pregnant.
I woke up yesterday with cramping and bleeding, convinced that I was miscarrying. We rushed to the ER and I was put through a battery of tests which all came back saying that I was never really pregnant. I have heard it called a chemical pregnancy, and the ER doc called it a spontaneous miscarriage. Basically there was a fertilized egg, but it never implanted. The egg produced enough hormones to cause a pregnancy test (actually 2) to show a positive result, but it never turned into a pregnancy.
I am relieved in a way that I did not lose another baby. But for that one week, in my heart I was pregnant so I do feel a loss. Now twice within 6 months I have the strange feeling of being pregnant one day and then not pregnant the next. I feel like I can't even trust a stupid home pregnancy test.
I know that lots of people go through this and some don't even ever realize that anything happened--they just think that they are late. But I am really feeling like I can't take for granted things that others do. Other people see the plus sign or "pregnant" on the digital and end up with a baby 9 months later. I don't. Other people go into that first OB appointment and leave hearing a heartbeat. I left with orders for a "viability ultrasound."
I'm really angry right now and I don't know who I have to be angry at.
I woke up yesterday with cramping and bleeding, convinced that I was miscarrying. We rushed to the ER and I was put through a battery of tests which all came back saying that I was never really pregnant. I have heard it called a chemical pregnancy, and the ER doc called it a spontaneous miscarriage. Basically there was a fertilized egg, but it never implanted. The egg produced enough hormones to cause a pregnancy test (actually 2) to show a positive result, but it never turned into a pregnancy.
I am relieved in a way that I did not lose another baby. But for that one week, in my heart I was pregnant so I do feel a loss. Now twice within 6 months I have the strange feeling of being pregnant one day and then not pregnant the next. I feel like I can't even trust a stupid home pregnancy test.
I know that lots of people go through this and some don't even ever realize that anything happened--they just think that they are late. But I am really feeling like I can't take for granted things that others do. Other people see the plus sign or "pregnant" on the digital and end up with a baby 9 months later. I don't. Other people go into that first OB appointment and leave hearing a heartbeat. I left with orders for a "viability ultrasound."
I'm really angry right now and I don't know who I have to be angry at.
Friday, February 8, 2008
Here we go again!
So it has been a few days, but I have really had to take some time to come to terms with the latest news in my life.
We are pregnant. Again.
Part of me (a big part) can't believe it, especially since I pretty much have no symptoms, other than a little plus on a HPT. The other part of me is scared, scared, scared. I feel every twinge, every cramp, and dread going to the bathroom. This is totally in my head, since we didn't even learn of my miscarriage until I had an ultrasound.
At the beginning of that pregnancy, I was sick. I just felt like crap from day one. At the time, I was weaning off of a medication and suffering the side effects of withdrawal. I was never sure if my lightheadedness was from that withdrawal or from the pregnancy; it all kind of mushed together.
From the very start of that pregnancy I didn't feel quite right. It was very different than my first pregnancy, which started with nothing and then quickly escalated to heavy cramping. I feel more like I did when I was pregnant with my daughter now. That gives me some sense of reassurance, since my first pregnancy ended successfully.
But it is exhausting, the worrying. I just have this constant fear that any minute it will be over. I dread the doctors appointments, the searching for a heartbeat, the tests, everything. I just wish I could fast forward 9 months and be done with it.
I want to be able to be naiive about this pregnancy; to announce it joyfully, not cautiously. I want to be able to tell my daughter she is going to be a big sister and then not have to take it bak again. I want to be able to pull out my maternity clothes from storage and not have to worry about saving the space to put them back in.
I know that if I really try, I can do these things. I learned last year of creating new pathways in my brain by erasing those negative thoughts. And I should do that.
We are pregnant. Again.
Part of me (a big part) can't believe it, especially since I pretty much have no symptoms, other than a little plus on a HPT. The other part of me is scared, scared, scared. I feel every twinge, every cramp, and dread going to the bathroom. This is totally in my head, since we didn't even learn of my miscarriage until I had an ultrasound.
At the beginning of that pregnancy, I was sick. I just felt like crap from day one. At the time, I was weaning off of a medication and suffering the side effects of withdrawal. I was never sure if my lightheadedness was from that withdrawal or from the pregnancy; it all kind of mushed together.
From the very start of that pregnancy I didn't feel quite right. It was very different than my first pregnancy, which started with nothing and then quickly escalated to heavy cramping. I feel more like I did when I was pregnant with my daughter now. That gives me some sense of reassurance, since my first pregnancy ended successfully.
But it is exhausting, the worrying. I just have this constant fear that any minute it will be over. I dread the doctors appointments, the searching for a heartbeat, the tests, everything. I just wish I could fast forward 9 months and be done with it.
I want to be able to be naiive about this pregnancy; to announce it joyfully, not cautiously. I want to be able to tell my daughter she is going to be a big sister and then not have to take it bak again. I want to be able to pull out my maternity clothes from storage and not have to worry about saving the space to put them back in.
I know that if I really try, I can do these things. I learned last year of creating new pathways in my brain by erasing those negative thoughts. And I should do that.
Monday, February 4, 2008
...and here's how...
So I ended my last post with the mom's story of her brain tumor, and I haven't been able to get back here to finish up.
So, here goes.
Mom's been dealing with recovering from gamma knife surgery and living life with a (benign) tumor. It has not been easy. Less than three days after her surgery, the left side of her body started seizing. She ended up back in the hospital for three days with very little answers. Apparently the effects of gamma knife surgery are not supposed to happen that quickly; it is a procedure that takes several months to even start to work. So lots of doctors were puzzled, to say the least.
She left the hospital on anti-seizure medication (we joked that she could share drugs with my miniature schnauzer, who is also on them...), very depressed. She was not supposed to drive and the medication made her very drousy. She went on a mini vacation and ended up having another seizure 1/2 way through. It has been a frustrating journey.
The journey started, however, with an ear problem that was still unresolved, and completely unrelated to the brain tumor. Mom was slowly losing hearing in one ear, followed by the other. With the tumor (sort of) taken care of, now it was time to see what was happening in her ears.
The news was not good. She visited a renowned ENT in Philadelphia, who ran a battery of tests and fitted her for hearing aids. I knew I was in trouble when mom said she wanted to see us on a Thursday night right after I got home from work. She never does this, and I joked with her on email, "you're welcome to stop by. Unless you have bad news. If it is bad news, you can stay away!"
It was bad news. Mom was diagnosed with Autoimmune Inner Ear Disease (AIED), which had flared up a year ago. The doctor told her that if it had been caught in the first few months, it could have been reversible. Even better, it is an inherited disease. Therefore, my sister and I now have to be tested, and if we have it, so do our children. If we are carriers, every ear infection, stuffed-up head, etc. must be taken very seriously, or else we, too could lose our hearing.
I'm trying not to be too pessimistic, but that's not in my nature. My ears are pretty much already shot from umpteen ear infections as a child. If I even looked at a body of water, I got swimmers ear. I already have constant ringing, and my ears click and crackle all the time, even when I am not swallowing.
But it is three weeks until my testing, so I have to try and put it out of my mind. For now.
So, here goes.
Mom's been dealing with recovering from gamma knife surgery and living life with a (benign) tumor. It has not been easy. Less than three days after her surgery, the left side of her body started seizing. She ended up back in the hospital for three days with very little answers. Apparently the effects of gamma knife surgery are not supposed to happen that quickly; it is a procedure that takes several months to even start to work. So lots of doctors were puzzled, to say the least.
She left the hospital on anti-seizure medication (we joked that she could share drugs with my miniature schnauzer, who is also on them...), very depressed. She was not supposed to drive and the medication made her very drousy. She went on a mini vacation and ended up having another seizure 1/2 way through. It has been a frustrating journey.
The journey started, however, with an ear problem that was still unresolved, and completely unrelated to the brain tumor. Mom was slowly losing hearing in one ear, followed by the other. With the tumor (sort of) taken care of, now it was time to see what was happening in her ears.
The news was not good. She visited a renowned ENT in Philadelphia, who ran a battery of tests and fitted her for hearing aids. I knew I was in trouble when mom said she wanted to see us on a Thursday night right after I got home from work. She never does this, and I joked with her on email, "you're welcome to stop by. Unless you have bad news. If it is bad news, you can stay away!"
It was bad news. Mom was diagnosed with Autoimmune Inner Ear Disease (AIED), which had flared up a year ago. The doctor told her that if it had been caught in the first few months, it could have been reversible. Even better, it is an inherited disease. Therefore, my sister and I now have to be tested, and if we have it, so do our children. If we are carriers, every ear infection, stuffed-up head, etc. must be taken very seriously, or else we, too could lose our hearing.
I'm trying not to be too pessimistic, but that's not in my nature. My ears are pretty much already shot from umpteen ear infections as a child. If I even looked at a body of water, I got swimmers ear. I already have constant ringing, and my ears click and crackle all the time, even when I am not swallowing.
But it is three weeks until my testing, so I have to try and put it out of my mind. For now.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
And yes, it CAN get worse...
So a quick recap of the last six months makes my family look like we belong in a bubble. Fife months ago, I suffered a missed miscarriage and had to undergo a d & c. I had just gotten to the point of feeling like I was starting to heal, when my mom drops a huge bombshell on me.
I have to set this up, just to show how absurd it all was: Mom has had some hearing issues since last spring, when she got sick (cold-like) on a trip to China. Her ear closed and never reopened. She went back and forth, from one specialist to the next, with no clear answers. One doctor, clearly sensing her frustration, ordered an MRI. They thought, at worst, it was a bulging blood vessel in her hear and she would have to have very delicate surgery to correct it.
So we all got together at a festival/parade at the end of September and sat to watch the parade. It was getting late, and my daughter was getting tired, so we got up to leave. My mom leans over to my husband and says, "I need to talk to your wife before you go." It is then that she drops the bombshell that the MRI showed a brain tumor (unrelated to the hearing loss), and she was scheduled for gamma knife surgery within weeks. So as my brain was trying to process all of this, clowns are galloping by, youth riding by on unicycles, bands playing a marching tune. Unreal.
So fast forward to last week, which will be the subject of tomorrow's blog.
I have to set this up, just to show how absurd it all was: Mom has had some hearing issues since last spring, when she got sick (cold-like) on a trip to China. Her ear closed and never reopened. She went back and forth, from one specialist to the next, with no clear answers. One doctor, clearly sensing her frustration, ordered an MRI. They thought, at worst, it was a bulging blood vessel in her hear and she would have to have very delicate surgery to correct it.
So we all got together at a festival/parade at the end of September and sat to watch the parade. It was getting late, and my daughter was getting tired, so we got up to leave. My mom leans over to my husband and says, "I need to talk to your wife before you go." It is then that she drops the bombshell that the MRI showed a brain tumor (unrelated to the hearing loss), and she was scheduled for gamma knife surgery within weeks. So as my brain was trying to process all of this, clowns are galloping by, youth riding by on unicycles, bands playing a marching tune. Unreal.
So fast forward to last week, which will be the subject of tomorrow's blog.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Officially in the 2WW
So I use Fertility Friend, which I always swore I wouldn't, and today I got confirmation of ovulation from Monday. What a mix of feelings.
I hate not knowing if we were successful, and I hate even more the fact that I won't know anything more for a week and a half.
I want to be positive about this, but all I can think of is that I was away on Saturday. Even though our chances are high, all I can focus on is that one missed day. Typical me, focusing on the one, teeny tiny probably insignificant detail.
And what if we ARE successful? Well then, here we go again. I try to convince myself that this pregnancy would be different and that I would not worry so much about the worst thing that could happen. But five months ago it never even occured to me that I would have a miscarriage. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to me. And then it did.
I can't concentrate on much else right now, which is not exactly the best thing for my job! Luckily things are really slowing down and I have no major projects on my desk.
I hate not knowing if we were successful, and I hate even more the fact that I won't know anything more for a week and a half.
I want to be positive about this, but all I can think of is that I was away on Saturday. Even though our chances are high, all I can focus on is that one missed day. Typical me, focusing on the one, teeny tiny probably insignificant detail.
And what if we ARE successful? Well then, here we go again. I try to convince myself that this pregnancy would be different and that I would not worry so much about the worst thing that could happen. But five months ago it never even occured to me that I would have a miscarriage. That kind of stuff doesn't happen to me. And then it did.
I can't concentrate on much else right now, which is not exactly the best thing for my job! Luckily things are really slowing down and I have no major projects on my desk.
Friday, January 18, 2008
My first blog
OK, I've never done this before, so here goes.
I guess I'll start with the title of my blog...it's a little out there, even for me. I love food, love to cook, and love to eat, so naturally I am a big Paula Deen fan. It's something I can share with my grandma, who spends most of her time watching the Food Channel. Last May, Grandma lent me her copy of Paula's biography, "It Ain't All About the Cooking," which I read in about a day. If you don't know Paula's history, the short story is that when she was a young mom, her dad died and her mom died shortly after. She was in a bad marriage, and started having panic attacks. Agoraphobia followed, and she struggled financially, emotionally, and it took its toll on her and her boys.
One of the things that got her through it was the following thought: (and I don't have the book right here with me, so I am paraphrasing) "If you wake up in the morning and you are on the right side of the dirt, it's going to be a good day."
In all I have gone through in the past year, both good and bad, this thought has resonated with me and kept my head up. If you are alive, still breathing, you have another day to make it better. So I thought it would be a good title to my blog, plus everything else that could have matched me was already taken!
I guess I'll start with the title of my blog...it's a little out there, even for me. I love food, love to cook, and love to eat, so naturally I am a big Paula Deen fan. It's something I can share with my grandma, who spends most of her time watching the Food Channel. Last May, Grandma lent me her copy of Paula's biography, "It Ain't All About the Cooking," which I read in about a day. If you don't know Paula's history, the short story is that when she was a young mom, her dad died and her mom died shortly after. She was in a bad marriage, and started having panic attacks. Agoraphobia followed, and she struggled financially, emotionally, and it took its toll on her and her boys.
One of the things that got her through it was the following thought: (and I don't have the book right here with me, so I am paraphrasing) "If you wake up in the morning and you are on the right side of the dirt, it's going to be a good day."
In all I have gone through in the past year, both good and bad, this thought has resonated with me and kept my head up. If you are alive, still breathing, you have another day to make it better. So I thought it would be a good title to my blog, plus everything else that could have matched me was already taken!
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