Infertility and Trains

On the airport train en route to our flight to Denver, I smiled as all the passengers of the tram smiled and cooed over my baby. What a smile! His eyes light up! Aw what a flirt! I grinned and nodded and thanked people for their congratulations and kind words. One passenger turned to a woman, in her early fifties if I was to guess, standing next to him, a colleague it seemed, and asked how many kids do you have? She smiled and said none. We tried since we got married but it never happened. She paused, the smile still frozen on her face. Yep, we tried, we wanted it, but it didn't happen. And that's all I'm going to say about that.

My husband and I looked at each other. We didn't have to say a word. We knew what the other was thinking. And I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you because you know exactly what it feels like to be her. It hurt my heart that this woman had to endure a train full of people oggling a baby making statements like this is what life is all about all the while she stood there smiling politely. When I can I do tell people the struggles I faced, but on this train ride, a full minute in length, throngs of people gripping metal bars surrounding me, how could I?

We had lunch with a co-worker of my husband's today. She loves kids and also could never have any. She held W and kissed him on the cheek. He giggled and cooed and adored her. She doesn't know I was in her shoes too. . . and at a meal of project cuts and site visits where the mention of infertility never even made a peep how could I tell her?

And who does telling help? Does it just help ease my survivor's guilt? Does it really matter? It doesn't change the facts. They did not get their heart's desire. I try not to pull myself into a tailspin at moments like these of why me not them? Because what good does it do? It never helped when it was the other way, why them, why not me? It surely can't help now either.

Moments like this remind me that I may have a child but infertility and loss have forever changed me. I kiss him more than I probably should. I find myself gazing into his eyes unable to look away. Sleepless nights. Tearful tantrums. All things that I thought I would surely lose my patience on, I handle with a grace that is not typical of how I normally operate when faced with challenging circumstances.

That's the good side of life after infertility. The other side is the way your stomach drops when you meet someone still in the trenches. When you remember what you left behind. For better and worse, whether I have just this one child or five more, infertility is like a bullet lodged deep within me, one that no matter how hard you try will remain exactly where it is. You are free from its dangerous grip- but its imprint will always remain.

Pregnancy After Miscarriage- Doctors Weigh In

Just read this article that said that doctors now tell women to TTC again ASAP after having a miscarriage because it boosts your chances of a successful pregnancy. I can understand wanting to wait to TTC after a miscarriage if you need to recover emotionally, but physically speaking I can't agree more and I WISH more doctors told their patients this. Were it not for me NOT heeding my doctors advice and doing what this article said, I would not have a baby snoring loudly in the swing across from me.

A year ago today

This weekend last year was spent in bed praying that the red spotting would not lead to more. This Sunday last year we went to the ER. As I stepped into the dressing gown I lost my pregnancy on the cold tiled floor. This time last year I passed out from the pain medications. My husband thought I died since it took some time to revive me. This time last year my parents drove up to comfort me as I endured my second miscarriage in nearly as many months.

If I had not had that second pregnancy I would not have had this third. The second miscarriage gave me my first normal ovulation. Two weeks from today, one year ago, I ovulated the egg that became the child sleeping in the Moses basket next to my bed.

I ponder the what ifs on days like today: What if I had listened to my OB and waited a few cycles before trying again. What if I couldn't convince Jack to try that night when ovulation was certain. What if I didn't have lovoenox. Or extra folic acid. Or baby aspirin. What if. What if. What if. The what if's take my breath away. The idea that he could so easily, just by Jack saying no, just by one small twist of fate, this baby would not be here. This living breathing reality that I feel I've known all my life. That I feel was meant to be here from the beginning with such certainty I can't fully comprehend how it almost could possibly not have been. But these are the good kind of what ifs. Not the kind of what ifs that haunted my life this time last year.

I look at my life just one year ago. I read my old blogs at what was and how I felt. I can't believe how much life can change in the course of one year. One year ago I was leaving an ER empty, and now life is more beautiful than words can give justice to.

Thank you to all the powers that be. I hope I will always remember how fortunate I am.

What she said she said

Just read this post from CeCe about how sometimes loss makes you fully cherish what you have. I don't presume to compare my miscarriages to the loss of a child you've held properly in your arms but I began to wonder, do my losses change the way I mother? I think the answer is unequivocally yes. There is hardly a day that passes where Speck or Bug don't cross my mind. Not formally. I don't sit and stare at the ultrasound pictures. Or journal about them. Or cry. But I think of them when I see the child of a friend whose son would have been the same age as Bug. Or I look at the calendar to figure out when we'll start solids and realize Speck would be chomping down rice cereal by now. That they would have names by now, real ones, not cute pet names. It's there. It's subtle but its there. It is always there. And as time passes I think this is not an entirely bad thing.

I know without what I lost I would not know how much I gain in sleepless nights, mysterious crying spells, spit ups, poopy diapers, and frustrating percentile growth charts. I know that because I had to face the reality that I might never be a mother I kiss him more and hold him longer and never forget the blessing that is him. While I wont say the dreaded it happened for a reason, it did happen and I am a different, and arguably better parent because of it.

Because THIS is why women go to sperm banks

Watching a rerun of Law and Order SVU "Design" while I breastfeed Sunflower and there is a scene with a well dressed woman in a sperm bank as her daughter bangs on the piano in front of the owner. She's furious. Why? You see, she paid 20k for the sperm of a musician to ensure her daughter would be the next Mozart. I want my money back! she screams. She can't even play chopsticks all she does is bang on the damn keys! The owner says you did get sperm from a super musician! She responds then why did I get stuck with her? All while the child is sits there.

OK I get that Law and Order is not a prototype of reality. If so all crimes would be solved within a week like jigsaw puzzles and law professors would not bemoan the show for the incorrect way they handle the law giving laypeople horribly misguided expectations. But is this really what sends a woman to a sperm bank? It's like those horrid articles discussing donor egg and sperm in this very vein, like people prefer this method to create their family as opposed to their own DNA or having a partner for the sole purpose of raising super-geniuses. Granted, maybe there is someone out there who did this like the fictional Jan on The Office did, getting pregnant with donor sperm while dating Michael Scott because she didn't want his DNA in her baby. . . [and I let it go on shows like the Office since they are supposed to be humorous and not necessarily grounded in reality] but such people would be a very small minority.

As a minority I'm used to the media taking the actions of one and speculating the motives of all. Maybe if I wasn't part of the IF and loss community I'd not notice the generalizations that are created by episodes such as this, but I see it, and I guess when you're in the minority you are always at risk for the actions of few and media sensationalizing setting the judgmental tone towards many.

The OB appointment

Jeez has it been that long since my last post? Me of the two posts a day? Each night as I try to drift off to sleep I compose long eloquent posts in my head but somehow these thoughts haven't been making it to an actual post.

The OB post-partum appointment went OK. They didn't check my blood sugars because I wasn't fasting and it had to be a two hour test. No one had told me this and no one seemed particularly in a hurry to get me checked for this. The OB told me just to do that on my next annual check up. I was terrified of the pelvic exam. T.e.r.r.i.f.i.e.d. I heart my OB but that woman checks me out down there like she's working on a car and I'm usually biting my lip to fight back tears. So naturally I was scared of the pain when she did it, but what actually happened was much worse: it didn't hurt at all. Like, I could hardly tell she did anything. Why aren't you doing cartwheels about this? You might ask. Well, um, (TMI. . . BUT-) how big am I now down there? She said see? It didn't hurt that's because a baby went through you. Yikes. We haven't done the deed since the baby has arrived and our eight year anniversary is Sunday- and um, I'm scared now.

She said that because I have a third degree tear that they would offer me the option of having a C-section next time because the nature of the tear meant I could have a risk of destroying my rectum area (or something like that). She said the risk was low but there. Great. Anyone with a 3+ degree tear have any insight on this by any chance?

I asked for Metformin and she said that since I'm nursing she didn't recommend it. It wasn't bad for nursing she said, but since the reason I'd be on it is to ovulate regularly and I'm not TTC right now, why not wait? I told her my weight is easier to lose when I'm on Met because it regulates my hormones but she said that wasn't a good enough reason to take Met and that nursing should help me get the weight losing boost I need. Sigh.

I asked her if I'd have to have Lovenox the next time (its cracking me up that I'm all assuming a next time but you gotta hope) and she said yes, we can't be sure it was the lovenox that saved this pregnancy but you had two miscarriages without it and one successful pregnancy with it so why rock the boat? She's right, but I guess it means I'll never have an option to have a natural birthing experience.

Our conversation left me wondering for days now, rolling her words over and over my mind, I had a successful pregnancy with it, without it, I miscarried. I have my baby now and I thought once he was here the pain of what I lost would vanish but the holes remain. What if I had lovenox then? What would Speck or Bug have been like? Out of all the combination of us that existed, which one would they have been? Seeing Sunflower, holding him, I'm so grateful and there are moments I'm wistful because he makes their possibilities more real. It's strange to feel that way because if I had them, I would not have him. In fact, because of losing Bug, I have Sunflower. This time last year I was pregnant with Bug though I did not know it at the time. That loss gave me my first normal ovulation ever and it was that cycle that my son was conceived. I shudder to think if I had listened to my OB who told me to wait a cycle before trying again. I shudder to think if I couldn't convince Jack to ignore that recommendation. I still remember that night, pleading. And now he's here. One day I will tell him what we went through to bring him into this world but I'll never guilt him with the shots I took for him or the labor I went through for him because as much as it was for him it was for me. because it was all selfish, so I could melt a million times over holding him in my arms. And he is worth everything.

Letting go of control

I've jokingly likened the wait for Sunflower to watching a kettle and waiting for it to boil. But I realized today I'm not waiting for it to boil, I'm willing it to boil as if by the sheer force of staring at the metaphorical kettle I will produce within it the bubbles I desire. I'm reading Momma Zen, a book given by a lovely friend, which, if you are pregnant or a new mama, you must read. She talks a lot about living in the moment, letting go of the illusion of control and being in the moment that is before us and she says it in a way that makes you stop in your tracks and listen.

Logically, I accept I can't control everything. I couldn't get nor keep pregnancies at will. I can't will a publisher to put an offer on the book my agent is shopping. We fight the carpenter bees in our awning daily but we can't control their hardiness. I know this and yet I still try to control things I can't. It's why I find myself up at 2am filled with anxiety as I wonder when will this happen? Why not now? And yet, these thoughts won't affect labor. I can do my best, walking and otherwise, but ultimately I don't hold the key to the outcome.

I'm trying to let go of the attempts to control and instead enjoy the time I have left. I can't wait to hold him in my arms but I will miss these karate kicks in my womb. I can't wait to hear him cry hearty sobs from healthy lungs but I'm sure a part of me will miss this silence in the middle of the night.

I guess I've been trying so hard to figure out what the next step is I forgot I can't. And the book helped me realize, that when it comes to control and my plans, they will all flip upside down once the baby comes. I plan to breastfeed but maybe I'll be unable to. I shudder at the thought of a C-section but that may be the only option. I have my Wii Fit ready to go to drop the baby weight but maybe it will go slower than I think. We imagine a happy cooing baby but we might have a colicky little bundle. If I thought I had little control now, that control is likely slipping away further once he arrives.

I'm telling myself: If I go all remaining ten days still pregnant- that's okay. I will re-read my favorite books. Call a friend and indulge in a one hour chat. Sleep in and watch the morning filter in through the windows letting the silence feel sacred. Go out with Jack Saturday night, hold his hand on an evening stroll and appreciate this brief interlude before we are coated in spit up and leaky diapers. I'm reminding myself I can't control the outcome but I can control what I do with the time I have.

The final two week wait

I'm feeling this weird lower pelvic pressure from time to time. It may be in my head, but its like I have a balloon filled with water low in my pelvis and its just about to pop. I'm hoping it means something is happening but its equally liking baby boy is just head bumping me. I'm 2cm dilated so I guess I'm technically in the early phase of labor though this doesn't mean active labor is around the corner. I feel like a volcano, quietly brewing, but yet to erupt. I'm waiting for the fireworks to begin.

TTC involves so much waiting. The wait to ovulate (or not). The two week wait. The wait to the second trimester. To the 20 week ultrasound. I'm in the final wait. Two weeks until my due date. It's certainly the best wait I can possibly ask for but waiting still involves a lot of staring at countdown tickers and judging one's body for signs of something.

It was so weird yesterday when the OB told me she could feel his head. He feels so far away, but he's in me. He's as close to me as anyone will ever be. Once he's out, that's when the physical connection that ties us ends and the true distancing process little by little begins. I'm trying to remember that to stave off the impatience and I can enjoy this brief interlude before he arrives.

Ending my blog

Three years and three blogs earlier I started an anonymous IF blog because I needed a place to talk about my struggles, a place I could cry about a negative, wonder what was wrong with me, and say the things family and friends were growing tired of hearing. In my mind I planned to stop the blog once I got pregnant. Because you know, those two pink lines is the end of the TTC journey right? Ha. When I had my miscarriages, blogging kept me from going crazy. Ever since I began blogging about IF and loss, my plan was to stop blogging once I actually met my baby. I mean, I'm Waiting For Sunflower, once he's here, I'm not waiting anymore, right? [Mind you, I didn't plan to stop keeping up with any of your blogs! I just planned to stop blogging myself.]

Even though it feels ten years away, my son is coming soon (God Willing) and so I'm thinking about the future of this blog. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I start a new parenting after IF blog? Do I lift the anonymity and blog under my real name at a new site? My question to you: Do you plan to stop blogging upon parenting? If you are an IF parent blogger what makes you stay? Did you consider stopping once you had a baby? Just curious for your insights on this. [And I'd leave this blog up ofcourse as a success story. . . I know how much that meant to me when I first started on this road]

37 Weeks

I am 37 weeks pregnant. I am full term. No more countdowns. It could happen anytime. Perhaps today. Perhaps next week. I have tears in my eyes typing this because I never thought this day would come. I still remember at 9 weeks pregnant wiping and finding blood. Rushing to the OB knowing it was over. Watching her expression as she shielded me from the u/s machine and then the smile as she showed me the heartbeat. And now while I know nothing is certain until it is certain and we're not there yet, I'm amazed to have come this far.

In other news. . .

• My preeclampsia results were normal!
• On an important note: In my faith, women often pray for their friends and family while in labor because it is said the prayers of a laboring woman are given special consideration. I dont know if this is true but I'm hoping it is and please know if I read your blog or know you read mine you're on my prayer list. If there's anyone who wants me to add them to the list or if there is a specific prayer please leave a comment.
  
• Thanks for your advice on baby showers! It was last minute and we're only giving people two weeks notice (It is next Sunday April 25) so I was hoping for maybe 8 people to show up but so far 20 people RSVPd which is pretty much everyone I invited. I'm touched and honored and am going to try my best to be at ease being the center of attention. I'm not used to that. I also feel weird not contributing to the event. I'm not used to people doing things for me and I think the hostesses want to kill me because I keep asking them to let me help.
• Speaking of baby showers, any ideas for a good hostess gift? I was thinking maybe a bath set from Origins (you know. . . shower?) but not sure. Ofcourse . . .
• I wonder if I'll go into labor before the party. Contractions continue to come and go. Some are painful and wrap around my body, some are period cramps, some are so mild I hardly notice and then there's the nightly someone is stabbing my cervix with a knitting needle pain. Im fine with little guy coming whenever he wants but I'd feel bad if he came right before the shower since they're working hard with very little time to put it together.
• With my two miscarriages, my body, like a bouncer, pushed them out astonishingly fast. This is why I'm so grateful to reach full term. I just wonder if now my uterus is so busy cuddling little guy we'll have to file eviction papers to get him out.
• As anxious as I am to meet him my dear friend and new mama reminded me I should enjoy these last few weeks too. I went to Karaoke on Monday with some girlfriends, we're going to a festival on Saturday with friends and doing a movie on the green. I'm trying to enjoy the time left instead of staring at the clock as it ticks down.
• And that nesting instinct I talked about previously? The one that led to me repainting the walls and smoothing our ceilings and cleaning behind the couch? It's gone. I am enjoying nothing more lately than sitting on the couch wallowing.
• And finally, since I'm full term, I thought I'd give you a pic of what I now resemble:

Oh yes, sexy is my middle name. Happy Full Term to me. Good job little guy. Thank you womb. Note to Sunflower: you're a 7 pounder. Come out come out whenever you want!

Baby Showers revisited

It appears I wrote about my baby shower issues on my old blog. To recap, with my first pregnancy I was so excited about the whole process that when my friend insisted on throwing me a shower upon hearing about the two lines on the pregnancy test I had even made out a whole list and browsed two registries! My SIL upon hearing about it snidely pointed out that baby showers are a bad idea because you never know what can go wrong and such a gathering is counting chickens before hatching. I rolled my eyes at her and then miscarried the next day.

Two miscarriages under my belt later, when I began telling people the news, two friends offered to throw me one. I said no its okay, I don't need one. Why? I had several reasons (1) My SIL's words were stuck in my head and I was still scared at 20 weeks when the shower was offered (2) I had such a long aversion to showers due to IF and loss I felt weird having one (3) I'm kind of a shy person and it feels weird to say yes throw me a shower dammit and being the center of attention and asking for gifts. (4) Jack was not enthusiastic about me having one because he was struggling with the same fears. (5) I was planning to have a cultural rite of passage for the baby upon his birth where you throw a party and feed the poor to celebrate the baby's arrival.

So I said no. One never asked again. The other- did- and I hesitatingly said yes around week 28 because I was slowly believing in the pregnancy and Jack too thought I should have one. This friend was super excited and told me to send her a list of the guests and then had marital problems and moved out of town. She just got back into town last Friday and it appears her marriage is here to stay.

I get that it was my choice to say no to the baby shower offers. But the looks of pity that I'm not having one are starting to get to me. I miss the close friends I have that live far away that wouldn't have cared if I had said yes or no to their offer simply because they knew me and knew that sooner or later I'd regret not having one (as they pointed out numerous times, as did, ahem, many of you). I'm starting to regret it. I have most of what he needs- so its beyond a gift grab thing- it just feels I've somehow missed out an important acknowledgment.

I am having a post-baby celebration. At least that's the plan. Who knows how I'll feel once baby actually arrives and I'm working on no sleep? So this should be enough right? I'm possibly having lunch with the two girls who'd offered me a shower months earlier and part of me is tempted to backtrack and say I feel more comfortable now and if maybe in two weeks. . . but then, two weeks is not a long time to get a baby shower ready, I said no earlier, and its kind of too late, they'll be annoyed, the end of April I'll be 38 weeks pregnant, possibly already with baby in tow, so its too late.

Right?

Labor and Delivery Tour

We went on our Labor and Delivery tour today. We saw the labor rooms, the aftercare rooms, the nursery. It was all relayed so matter-of-fact and yet the entire time this hormonal preggo was choking back tears. I know that 35 weeks into this pregnancy this should all feel pretty fucking real but I'm still taken aback as to how it hits me as though anew- this is happening. I saw the check-in desk, the wheelchairs lined up, the storks outside of new mother's rooms. Soon, I will check in. I will sit in a wheelchair. There will be a stork outside my room. I thought by now I'd feel ho-hum, but nearly every single day I have a moment be it running my hand on a onesie, or walking past his crib where it all hits me as though for the first time this baby is real, he's coming, he's going to be mine-- no, he's already mine. Standing in the very hospital I used to drive past on my way to work and feel an ache, I wonder when will I wake up from this dream? I wonder when will all this feel old and something I take for granted? Because surely that time will come. Will it be in the final days? Will it be after the tenth diaper change? I'm beginning to think this is the one gift IF and loss has given me, the constant awe and wonder. I know I'm fortunate- so fortunate, that words can't fully capture it.

[And in other non-sentimental news- once these emotions washed over me, I then stared in panic at the birthing room, and the stirrups, and the bags of pitocin in the fridge and suddenly this ostrich has lifted her head from the sand and um, holy shit! What is coming out of WHERE? and WHEN? My Braxton Hicks are now different- whereas once they simply tightened painlessly, now there is a subtle pressure despite the continued irregularity. Oh yes, this is really happening. Oh yes- someone needs to figure out a plan and soon!]

Parenting Expectations

The crib and glider are set. His clothes are ready to be washed and folded. Minus pacifiers and a few small items, we're ready [Well, sort of, but that's a post unto itself!] I just hope we'll be emotionally ready. For eight years its been Jack and me. Sleeping in, eating out, traveling, renting loads of DVDs. Now we will bring in an unknown variable, a cute pouty lipped variable but a variable to what we've known.

Sometimes I worry about Jack's expectations. When you've dealt with IF and loss, and waited a while to have a baby, you have a lot of time to dream and fantasize. A few times now Jack has said our baby will be really chill, I can tell because he doesn't kick you very hard. He envisions him cooing in the crib, or snuggled between us in bed on a lazy Sunday morning. he knows his boy will share his toys, eat his greens and thank us for parenting him. (Well he didn't put it quite this way but its the impression I got). While I hope this will happen- I have tentatively told him its also going to be hard and challenging, sleepless nights, hormones I'm crashing from, not understanding his needs. He waves this away. Yeah but it will be okay, we won't mind because we'll love him so much, and besides, I think he's going to be an easy baby.

But just like acid reflux is annoying despite a much wanted pregnancy, I'm assuming you can love your child and still miss sleep. I'm lucky. I've had a few friends who refused to sugar coat it for me, and I'm blessed to have y'all, many of whom are parenting after IF and say it straight so I know it won't be kisses and giggles at all times. I just wonder about Jack and how he'll handle it if little dude isn't as easy as he predicts. I'm sure we'll roll with the punches but I hope he doesn't get punched too hard.

On another note, I hope he is prepared for the emotions I may experience. Having wanted this pregnancy for years, one would expect that I'll be just smiling and starry eyed at all times. I desperately hope this will be the case but I'm aware of the hormone-crash. That my mother had Post-Partum depression. That sometimes I struggle with regular old depression. And that if PMS is any indication, I might have emotional lows upon giving birth. We've been talking about it and he says he understands. I hope he knows that if God forbid I do have emotional instability, that its not because I don't love the miracle I've been given, but hormones that in some ways are out of my control.

Last April I lost Speck. Since then we've been through so much and our marriage only got stronger. I hope that if parenthood tests us unexpectedly that we will also find our way through this too.

"You're so lucky you're having a boy"

I've written before on my thoughts on having a son, but since we began telling people, the truth of what I wrote is sinking in- and pissing me off. Since we've begun telling people, this sentiment, that we must be so happy because we're having a son is really getting on our nerves. On one hand some people don't mean any harm with comments such as oh wow Jack must be so excited to have a boy to play sports with! Sure I think he could have played sports with his little girl, but I think these people are just being sweet and would've found something special to say about having a girl. But its the other comments that Jack and I have received that are getting under my skin:

• Ah, you got it out of the way, producing the male son. (said by a former co-worker with two daughters).
  
• Ah man! You are so lucky! I wish we could trade! Girls are tough. (said by a father of a five week old daughter).
• It took X a while to adjust to having a daughter but now he's happy.
• You must be so relieved. My wife is pregnant and I'm praying for a son.

If we were having a girl would you have expressed your condolences? It's disturbing to think that people might be jealous because our baby has a penis. It's disturbing that there are baby girls out there whose birth will be met with disappointment. These sentiments are not just an insult to that girl but to me and every woman out there. Women are the reason humanity exists.

My mom had warned me not to tell people the gender for this very reason, but I can't believe that in this day and age, in the USA this sentiment is still voiced. That people dare admit it. Unfortunately, most of these sentiments have been expressed to Jack out of my presence. I'm waiting for someone to say this to me because at this point I'm ready to really go off.

It must be my preggo hormones that are making my eyes well with tears right now, but. . . there are so many of my IF sisters struggling. So many who would do anything, who have gone beyond the bounds of what they could have imagined to have a baby and still struggling. Then there are these people. . . I know none of this is based on a merit system of fairness, but having to encounter people like this, so damn ignorant- its just so fucking unfair.

March

It's March! My due date is May 7 but I'm full term in April. I'm practically giddy that I can now say my baby could come next month. March could be my last month without my son in my arms. March also would have been the month I would have given birth to Bug, my second pregnancy. No one ever gave me a due date because the viability of the pregnancy was questionable from the start. It would have been sometime the third week of March but I'm glad there's no physical, tangible date to dread.

Week 30 brings with it increasing cautious-optimism . . . and exhaustion. Some of you suggested I make the most out of the second trimester because the third is exhausting. You were right. I dont know if its normal third trimester stuff or the anemia but I feel constantly tired. Logically, if one is tired they sleep but sleep isn't easy. Last night I woke up three times because of acid reflux. Twice because sleeping on my sides puts pressure on my hips and then twice more to use the restroom. I'm not working right now so I have the luxury of feeling guilty as I find myself still in bed with the clock reading 11:00am. I don't know how ya'll do it with full-time jobs feeling this way. Sometimes I think just nine more weeks until bebe arrives and then these sleep issues will be gone. Ha. My mom said that once you have a child you never sleep like you did before ever again- ever. I guess this is a trial run of the foggy state of mind I'll be in very soon. I'm trying not to feel too guilty about not accomplishing as much as I set out to each day. As a Type-A person this is tough. But Im reminding myself that soon things will change and I will feel quite productive. (67 days give or take, but whose counting?)

Other things that have changed in the third trimester:

• I can no longer put my socks on while standing lest I resemble a tipped cow.
• To weigh myself on my digital scale I have to hop off since looking straight down, even side to side to catch the number is difficult. (I think this is my body trying to protect my feelings- kinda like 'oh honey you don't need to see that now do you?')
• While my feet haven't gone up in size yet, my hands are inexplicably expanding like Pillsbury dough and its starting to look like I stole my wedding ring from a much skinnier person and jammed it onto my finger.
• Baby Story on TLC used to be heartwarming (before I knew I had IF) then heartbreaking (once I had IF) and now it just scares me like any good old fashioned horror flick. As much as I think about life after baby, bottle versus breast, crib or bassinet, I really have seemed to push the labor part of this reality out of my head entirely. (sticks fingers back in ears: lalalalalala)

Yes, GD not my fault!

I just got back from the nutrition class and you were right! GD isn't my fault! While I can eat well to manage it, when I took that sugary drink regardless of how well I was managing GD my numbers would've spiked. I also found out I was eating way less than I needed to and honestly, when I saw how much I can eat, its not much different from what I was eating before the diagnosis. The only difference between how I ate and how I will eat is making sure to have a protein with my carb snack and trying to eat at the same times each day.

The dietician asked me about my miscarriages wondering if they'd been found to be linked to PCOS and she told me she had one miscarriage. It was such a bad miscarriage it scarred her uterus permanently and she was never able to have children. We talked about infertility for a little bit and I felt amazed she chooses to work in this field. We got to the section of coping with giving up foods, and she looked at me and said I'm sure you're okay with that? I quickly nodded but I wondered how does she feel when women come in crying that they can't eat cake anymore and how horrible pregnancy is? Judging from my birthclub on Bab.yCent.er people take the not eating sweet things quite hard. Almost ludicrously so. Don't get me wrong- I stopped and stared at the icecream sandwiches at Krogers yesterday like a child staring longingly at the puppy he always wanted, but I'm not really feeling sad about it. I know I can have it in May. I guess its all perspective and how you feel about something is relative to what you've gone through. Still, kudos to her to surround herself with pregnant women crying about cookies.

Off topic for wordpress powered bloggers: Wordpress bloggers and wordpress-powered bloggers I am still reading your blogs and I'm still trying to leave comments but it seems that my comments are going straight to your spam box? I'm not sure why and not sure if its limited to only me. If you don't regularly check your spam comment box please check it regularly since it seems genuine comments can fall to the wayside in there. Very strange!

February 20, 2009

It was Friday and a particularly bad day at work. I stared at my cases piling up on my desk, jammed into the cabinets and tried ignoring the red blinking glow of my answering machine just as my boss knocked on my door, stuck her head in and told me I was getting four more cases transferred to me the next morning. With a sigh I consulted my planner trying to ignore the circles on the corner. . . my period was 16 days late. I remember feeling frustration bubble up inside of me. Metformin regulated my cycles for two months and now this? A 45 day cycle with no period in sight? That evening as I drove home I listened to my voice messages. A friend I threw a baby shower for called to thank me, I can't wait until its your turn! I remember I started laughing at her timing. Shoot me now I thought.

I called Jack on the drive home and we agreed to an evening of sushi and hookah. As I neared home I considered the evening of raw fish and tobacco and thought, maybe I should test, you know, just in case. I told Jack I was making a detour to Walgreens. He got annoyed. You're not pregnant! You waste too much money on those tests and I don't want you to ruin your weekend getting sad. I knew he was right, but I bought the three pack. Figured I'd be testing over the next few days since that was my typical mode of operation.

I came home. I put my purse down. Jack was napping on the couch. I remember feeling heavy. A heaviness from my head down to my toes as I unwrapped the test. I took the test and set it on the sink as I had countless times before. I watched as the control line reddened and looked at the blank slate next to it as I had countless times, hundreds of dollars worth of times, willing a second line to appear- except this time- it appeared.

My hands shook well before my brain received the message. I shrieked and jumped to my feet. Jack came rushing in. I showed it to him. No he said, its a fluke. I tested again, this time with a digital: Pregnant.

I cried and hugged Jack. I called my mother. I'm pregnant. I remember thinking: Its over. The struggle is over. I'm done waiting. I felt such a sigh of relief. I felt heaviness exit my body and lightness take over. Nothing could have made me happier in that moment.

Though I ultimately lost that baby, that moment ranks as one of the most beautiful of my life. I still have that test. Its buried at the bottom of our bills drawer, but I can't seem to throw it away because it reminds me of that day. One of the most beautiful in my life. The loss that followed cannot take away the pure joy of that particular moment in time.

Thrown out of the closet

We went to a Superbowl party today. Jack had a private conversation with the host many months ago about our miscarriages, the only person Jack confided in. The host shared that his wife had lost a child at 25 weeks gestation. I was looking forward to meeting his wife because I wanted to get to know someone 'in real life' who had experienced loss and who perhaps I could become friends with and be able to talk about this part of my life, but I didn't quite imagine it would go the way it did.

The men were in the basement, we were in the family room. We were discussing pregnancy as a group and I mentioned I find myself more nervous than other people, and she said yeah my husband told me about your losses. She then went into her own story, but I kind of felt shell shocked. I wrote earlier about inching out of the closet but I felt a bit flung right then. I really like this woman but it felt like I was sitting there with no clothes on at that moment.

She lost her child ten years earlier. She now has four children. She said her loss happened for a reason. I would want to pummel other people for this tired cliche but how can I begrudge someone who used this phrase to get through their own loss? As we were leaving she got my contact information and said, I know I seem okay with this now but it happened ten years ago and I have four healthy children. I am not so sure it would have been this easy to accept what happened otherwise.

I have to admit something though. I know we need to talk about IF and loss as a society. We have to take it upon ourselves to break the chain of silence. But. It is very weird to be out. It is very weird to discuss why you likely won't have a shower. I'm out. I'm glad maybe someday someone might think of me and know they're not alone in their IF/loss journey. But. In the meantime, being this exposed feels. . . uncomfortable.

Unintentional Pinpricks

We went to see a friend who just had a baby girl. It was the first time since getting pregnant I've gone for the "new baby visit" and the first time I didn't feel the pinprick of pain that usually accompanied such visits. I felt like a little girl in her mother's pearls and high heels sitting to tea-time with her stuffed animals as we discussed breastfeeding and strollers. I must add quite proudly that when she asked me so was it an accident or did you plan the baby? That I did not break into hysterical laughter. No, we didn't exactly plan this baby since planning and baby just don't go together in my world and so yes the sheer luck that I'm pregnant and it stuck does seem accidental but that's not what you meant is it? Instead I quite somberly told her yes, we wanted a baby.

The conversation moved to labor and the first few weeks after a baby comes. She talked about how stressful it can be and how you just don't know what you're doing sometimes. Jack said well K's mom is coming and we don't know what we'd do without her. I smiled and nodded adding, you need your mother, there's nothing like your own mother. I can't imagine if my mom wasn't coming. I need her to just hug me and give me support. My friend smiled and nodded amiably. As we wound down our conversation I commented on her daughter's pretty middle name and asked its origin. Its after my mother. I smiled, your mom must be so happy. She got quiet, my mom died in a car accident when I was 14 but I'd like to think she's looking down on us and is happy.

Driving home I thought of all the things people have said in my journey of IF and loss from you don't know what you're missing to You're lucky you guys don't have kids they're such a pain! I thought of how these words felt like pinpricks under my fingernails. Today my words hurt someone. I didn't know. But I caused her pain by reminding her of what she does not have, a mother to help guide her as she navigates young motherhood. Sometimes I've felt anger at people who casually remark about fertility and children as though they are undeniable rights and not blessings we are fortunate to have. They don't know either. They are not bad intentioned. Perhaps my unintentional statement to my friend will remind me to be gentle in my thoughts towards those who unintentionally prick me beneath the skin.

MFM Update and a question about Gestational Diabetes

Despite becoming more hopeful these past few weeks, I had trouble sleeping last night. Part of me wondered if now that I let my guard down, would the fears become real? It would just figure me getting all hopeful would jinx everything. Thankfully so far my theory has been disproved. I'm pleased to report all is ho-hum in the womb area. The tech did a few 3D shots which honestly kinda freaked me out! Cervix is long and closed, amniotic fluid is as it should be and my little sunflower weighed in at 1 pound 10 ounces and is measuring 25w2d, three days ahead of schedule. He's head down so the cervix hits I get are apparently head bumps. When we saw him he was sucking his thumb and giving me soccer kicks. She said he has long legs so I might get a long baby in May. All in all he measured in the 47% percentile which is average so I can't complain. The doppler and these visits are what keep me sane.

Dr. MFM is awesome and after having rotated with so many subpar doctors it was just nice to talk to him. At my OB visit I brought Dr. M my Nordic Cod Liver Oil to ask if I could take it and instead of answering my question, she wrote me a prescription for DHA supplements which I didn't want. Dr. MFM checked it and said it was fine to take. I discussed all my questions that Dr. M was too hurried to answer with Dr. MFM and he rocks. If an OB one day stumbles upon this site I hope they can learn to not condescend to their patients and to respect that they may also know what they're talking about. Though you know more than me, I will listen to you a lot better if you respect me as a person while we talk.

Anyhoo! We discussed my 28 week gestational diabetes test and he said some people carb it up a few days before the test and then eat no carbs the day before the test and pass it. Which leaves me confused. With a PCOS history and GD in my family, I likely will have GD but should I try to beat the test? If I have it, don't I want to treat it, not do a temporary fix before a test only to have my levels rise up again? I'm assuming there is some harm in having GD hence the testing.

Driving home, Jack and I reflected how one year ago we were still TTC. One year ago I had not known Speck. My next OB visit is February 20, the day I found out I was pregnant. I will become full term April 13, the day I lost Speck. He turned to me and said when Speck died, something in me left with him. I feel like there is a hole that will never be filled but I know when I see our son I will see what Speck and Bug might have been. I felt tears form in my own eyes. I am grateful for this pregnancy and I love this little boy but just like Jack there remains a crater somewhere within. I love Speck and Bug. Loving Sunflower does not negate the occassional heavy heart I feel over what could have been.