12 weeks

At my last appointment on Wednesday, I was 11 weeks, 3 days. The baby's heartbeat was very strong. He was moving around, waving his arms and legs. He looked great. I asked the doctor if we were out of the woods. He said not until 12 weeks. I said but I'm 11 and 1/2. He said there are no studies that show 11 and 1/2. They only show 11 and 12 weeks. I asked so the chance of miscarriage are higher in week 11 than 12 and he said yes. He said that once we reach 12 week the chance of miscarriage are less than 1%. I've heard all the percentages before and I know that I lie in the less than 1% range. So I said but not for me. And he said, not for you.
My husband didn't want me to make an appointment for Christmas Eve because he didn't want me to ruin Christmas. I told him that if I was still sick I would go, if I felt better I would cancel. I was pretty confident with the way that I was feeling that the baby would still be there. And he was. And I was able to enjoy Christmas. I didn't have to wonder if my little baby was still with us.
So, I want to say we are out of the woods with this little baby but until I see the heartbeat again, I guess we can't count on anything.
Since I've stopped taking the progesterone, which was 2 days ago, my nausea has gotten a little better. This has freaked me out completely. Both nights since then I have stayed awake panicked that my baby has died. I'm pretty sure when the last baby died, I felt better instantly but I worry that it may be gradual this time. I've been sneezing without my tendons feeling like they were ripping in half. But when I woke up this morning, my stomach hurt really bad so that made me feel better.
I started out with this pregnancy believing that we really would get a baby out of it. I feel like its a boy. I feel like I can sense his presence. My husband thinks this is crap. But he's never been a mama. He doesn't know what it's like. But now that we get further into it. I can't let myself believe it anymore. Now that I want to say things like, when the baby gets here or the baby will be this old then. I tell myself that I am stupid to plan. That I am just setting myself up for heartbreak. But I need to be positive for the baby to have the best chance. And who am I kidding, my world will be shattered if this baby dies. I'm hanging all my hopes on this chance.
My biggest fear, obviously, is that my baby will die. I've seen him moving. I've seen his heartbeat. I swear I can feel his presence, waiting to come to us. My mother's heart has been broken before. How can a baby die inside of my body? How did I not protect this child? How could I let that happen? Even though I know the whole while, intellectually, that it is out of my control? All I ever want to do as a mama, is to take care of my kids. I am so scared that I will not be able to take care of this baby. Will he die, too? Will I even know?
Our little foster boys got to go home to their Dad the week before Christmas so we got to move Baby J into her own room. My husband left the crib up because he is anticipating having the new baby in it. Last night, I was thinking, it will really suck to take that down after the baby dies. This is my internal battle. I think of my first pregnancies and how I bought baby clothes and maternity clothes from the pregnancy test on. Weird stuff.
My next appointment is Wednesday, New Years Eve. Wish me luck...

Weird Feelings

I have come to the conclusion over the last few months that this would be our very last try. I know I may have said that before but this time I feel it in my heart. I feel awful. I have been dizzy and lightheaded. I am nauseous and exhausted and not to mention grumpy. I know my husband would hate it if I forgot to mention that one. And while I know that all of these symptoms come with the territory of being pregnant, I am sick of having to go through them with no baby to show for it. It takes its toll. So, I've been noticing the good things that can come of no longer having babies and/or being pregnant. I think we will have a good life. The anxiety I felt at being by myself is gone. I think it will be different. And sometimes that's good. I really feel like if there was another baby for my family we would have it by now. I know that having Baby J in our home helps me feel better. Being able to hold her and love on her is good for my soul. But if she goes home, our lives will go on. And they will be great lives, full of love and laughter. 

I guess this was the feeling I was waiting for. The feeling that I was done trying.

If we had to bet on this pregnancy, we all would bet on it not working out. And that's okay. Whatever the outcome is, I am prepared this time. Life goes on....

No heartbeat

We didn't see a heartbeat yesterday but the doctor wasn't convinced that it was over yet. Since the last ultrasound there has been action. There is now a yolk sac and there is fetal material. The doctor said that given my history he would have liked to have seen a heartbeat but it is still 50/50 at 6 weeks 1 day whether he can usually see one. The fetus was right at the curvature of the sac so it was blocked. It seemed to me that I could see the heartbeat but it was really faint and it was hard to make it out from the frequency of the machine.
So, no answers for another week. This is how it goes with me. The good news is that I do feel nauseous most of the day and really tired. And really grumpy, which my husband tells me is a surefire sign that I am pregnant.
We should definitely be able to see a heartbeat next week.

Pregnant Again

That's right, Folks! I am a glutton for punishment. I just didn't feel like I was done with this journey.
I found out a little over 2 weeks ago that I was pregnant for the 11th time.
This time is very bittersweet. I cannot believe that I still have hope for a baby with this one but I do. The human spirit will not be held back. I hope it works out. But in am realistic enough to realize that the end result will almost undoubtedly be a miscarriage.
We have had 3 foster kids since the middle of May and that is helping to keep me busy. I am way less freaked out and obsessed about my symptoms or lack thereof. We have a foster baby who is now 11 months old. She has been such a blessing. Not only is she just a joy and a super fun baby but my arms aren't empty anymore. We hope we get to adopt her but it is a long journey that we cannot predict so we have to assume she will go back to her mother but we hope not.
I cannot forget that she isn't mine so I hold back because I fear the loss of another baby. But I recognize that she deserves a mother that is fully invested and so I tell myself that it's not about me, its about her. But my defenses are up for the pain and grief and I automatically want to protect myself from anything that will cause me more pain.
I have told 2 friends about the pregnancy. I usually am a blabber mouth. But I'm trying to keep it on the DL. My friends say I'm brave but I think people will think I am stupid. How can she keep doing that to herself and her family? Doesn't she know what will happen? I'm not ready for reactions either way.
Even though, I know that after 6 miscarriages people were so over me, I still had a journey to go through and I was lonely. I would rather not have people know if I have to do it alone again. I don't want pity and I don't want disdain. I really just want to make sure that I'm not closing any doors that may be open even if it's just a tiny crack.
My HCG levels were great last week. I had an ultrasound because I was cramping alot. Even though there wasn't much to see, it looked good.
Tomorrow at 3:45 is another ultrasound. I am 6 weeks today. We should be able to see a heartbeat if there is one. Wish me luck.

Baby R

I jumped at the opportunity to do respite care for another mom. We get to watch a 6 month old baby for a week. I didn't know how nice it would be.
This little baby has the sweetest little spirit. She is so nice to be around. We have been having a blast. My heart feels good.
One night as I was getting ready to go ref and R was with us in our room my husband asked, "Does having R around not make you feel so sad?" I didn't realize I was that transparent. I said, a little surprise, Yes. What about you? I thought the you said you were over the miscarriage. He said he was. He was sad about not having more kids.
We will have to let her go on Sunday but I intend to listen to her little noises and give her squishy hugs a lot until then.

Trying Again

I was supposed to get an IUD at 6 weeks post delivery. But I couldn't bring myself to do it.
The other night my husband was in our room with me while I was getting ready to go ref. He said when do you turn 40? I told him. He said we should try again next year and try to time it for around your 40th. (We are still so silly that we can hope and plan ahead. I truly find it odd.) He said when are you  fertile again? And I had to tell him I already had a cycle. He just laughed and hugged me. So I guess we are trying again.
My plan it to try to keep it to myself if I get pregnant again (which has never been an issue). I would like to have the harmony test done that tests for hormonal abnormalities. I can have that at 9 weeks. That way we should know for sure that it is viable and that there is nothing major wrong with the baby. Anyways, that's my plan.
Seriously, who can still plan after all this?

What did you go through?

This Easter weekend all of my husband's siblings were in town. We had a big photo shoot. The first one we have had in my 17 years of being married to the family. It was great. Really it was. I love my little family and my husband's family is great. They really are. I just have a few gripes.

The year that we started trying to have our 5th we had 3 pregnancies that had due dates in 2012. That year all of Trav's siblings but him had babies. They took a picture of those 3 little one year olds. Trav and I were watching and I tried very casually to say, "We would have had one that age too." And he said, "I know." But we were the only ones that knew.
And then later when everyone else was gathered at our house in the evening, we were all hanging out in the dining room. I said something about only having one friend. We talked about having friends and having good friends. And I said, "After what Trav and I have been through, it shows you who your friends really are." And his mom was shocked and said "What did you go through?" like she had missed something. And his sister said, ".....the miscarriages?" And his mom still looked surprised. And then Trav said, "We just lost a baby." "Oh."
Yes. Oh. It's only been 2 months. Everyone else has forgotten. I wondered why no one asked or brought up the fact that we lost our baby when I visited my family in Oregon for 10 days. Not once did anyone ask. I brought it up. Only my sister-in-law let me talk about it. And now I realize that they forgot too.
I wish I could forget.

Tuesdays with Morrie

I read the book Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom on the drive home from Oregon on Sunday. I grabbed it out of a box of books that my sister was selling in a yard sale Saturday morning. It was fabulous. I figured it would be because I loved The Five People You Meet In Heaven that he wrote too. Tuesdays with Morrie has sound advice that seemed really pertinent to what I've been trudging through. It's written simply and its easy to digest and apply. I'm super glad I read it.

“If you hold back on the emotions--if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them--you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your heard even, you experience them fully and completely.” 
“Don't cling to things, because everything is impermanent... But detachment doesn't mean you don't let the experience penetrate you. 
On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That's how you are able to leave it...You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief... But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely.You know what pain is. You know what love is. "All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.” 
I loved this part. I feel like I've moved on and I feel like this quote removes the quilty feelings that I have. I felt like it was too easy to move on. But I analyzed what I was feeling and what was going on and now I've moved on. This made sense to me.

“Well, for one thing, the culture we have does not make people feel good about themselves. We're teaching the wrong things. And you have to be strong enough to say if the culture doesn't work, don't buy it. Create your own. Most people can't do it.” 
I tell my kids all the time that we live in "the world" but we are not of "the world."

“Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do somehing else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted.” 

“I give myself a good cry if I need it. But then I concentrate on the good things still in my life. I don't allow myself any more self-pity than that. A little each every morning, a few tears, and that's all. ” 
“I thought about all the people I knew who spent many of their waking hours feeling sorry for themselves. How useful it would be to put a daily limit on self-pity. Just a few tearful minutes, then on with the day.” 
It's true. I think maybe its human nature to feel sorry for ourselves. But this does work. I just decided to not feel sorry for myself anymore and then I wasn't. Life goes on.

“There is no point in keeping vengeance or stubbornness. These things" -he sighed- "these things I so regret in my life. Pride. Vanity. Why do we do the things we do?"
I decided that I will forgive those people that I wanted to be with me when I was suffering and they weren't. I have decided that it doesn't always need to be about me. I will give love and not regret it.

 “If you're always battling against getting older, you're always going to be unhappy, because it will happen anyhow.” 
I've been sad about my new normal. I don't want my years of being a mom to end. Its really sad to me to not be able to have babies. I don't know how to prepare for my life with no young kids. It's all I've ever wanted to do. But I can't waste any more time. And I do want to be happy. I have to figure out how to find peace and say good bye to that part of my life and embrace the new one.

Friends

A true friend is someone who is there for you when he'd rather be anywhere else.

Len Wein

I've been lonely. And sad. And mad. And frustrated. And lonely.

I know that hanging out with someone who is sad is not very much fun. But its sure nice to know that anyone else cares. I am dismayed by the fact that there are people in my life who are dear to me that didn't reach out to me at all. And though, I'm not sorry for myself, it makes me wonder how much time I have wasted being more invested in these people than they are in me. I feel like I'm at a place in my life where I just don't waste my time like that anymore. 

On the other hand, I want to make sure to cherish the people in my life that have found that time and took the effort to tell me they are in my corner, that they have my back. Thank you. It meant more than I can express. 

Life Goes On

“I always hated when my scars started to fade, 

because as long as I could still see them, 

I knew why I was hurting.” 

― Jodi Picoult

The other day, my husband and I were reffing together. I was excited to see a female ref that I had reffed with quite a bit in the high school season. When we had a second she asked how I was feeling and I was surprised. I wasn't sick. And then she referenced the pregnancy. I would have been 22 weeks at that point. I told her about the miscarriage. It was obvious she was caught off guard. But I was caught off guard too. Because I forgot that I was a "victim." I forgot about the miscarriage. I forgot to have my defenses up. I just forgot.

And this is a good thing. It means I'm moving on, sort of.

The other night when I was feeling particularly bratty I told my husband that I wanted to just throw a fit because of the unfairness of it all and he said, "still?" 

Moving On

Last night as I was getting ready for bed I realized that it is time to put away the little box that I have kept on my nightstand with the little molds of the baby's hands and feet, the little blanket that she was wrapped in and the ultrasound photos that I couldn't bear to have up on the corkboard anymore. It's time.

I left them on my nightstand because I wanted to have my memories of that baby close to me. It's been 3 weeks today. It's time.

It's time to not feel sad anymore. It's time to not cry anymore. It's time to be open to what the world will offer. It's time to look to the future. It's time to be present in the present. It's just time.

And so today I took that little box off my nightstand and put it in the bottom drawer. I looked at the hands and feet, something I haven't done since days after delivery, and I didn't cry. I feel sorrow for the poor little baby that we dreamed of. I'm sorry that I couldn't make a proper body for that spirit to dwell in. I'm sorry for all the work I made for my husband and my daughter. I'm sorry for the grief that I have caused my family.  I feel like I'm missing out on some of the joys in life. But the time for regrets and sadness is past and soon a day will go by when I won't think about that little baby that we lost. And the time to start in now.

My New Nephew, Blade

My sister-in-law Kayla had her baby boy last Wednesday. He was almost 9 pounds and 22 inches long. He is very healthy and looks like their other kids. I am so happy for her and my brother-in-law Dallan.

We wanted to go see the baby. It is a time of joy and happiness. Family gets to share in these times. My husband said he knew it would be hard so I didn't need to go. But I don't want to be one of those women that can't share in other's happiness because of their own unhappiness. I don't want to miss out on the good times. So we went. 

I'll admit I was nervous. I thought when I held him it would make me sad. I didn't want to cry and rain on their parade. But I didn't. Once I saw him, I realized that this is their baby. I don't want their baby. I want mine. And so I was genuinely happy for them. And I'm glad I could share in their joy. I was glad to hold their baby. And I was glad to give him back. 

I realized again yesterday how much work newborns are and how tired you are taking care of them. It seems easy to be able to talk myself out of the fact that I want one. But I don't want just any newborn or any baby. I want mine. That makes it worth it. The doctor said one pregnancy cannot take the place of the last but I feel that this journey hasn't been about 6 different babies, it has been about getting a baby. I wish I could get to a place of peace when I think about stopping but I can't get there. So for now my journey hasn't ended.

Defining Me

Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy now. Don't wait for something outside of yourself to make you happy in the future. Think how really precious is the time you have to spend, whether it's at work or with your family. Every minute should be enjoyed and savored.

Earl Nightingale

Just in the past couple days I have felt what I don't want to call depression, but probably defines it correctly, creeping in on me. I have felt pretty good. I reffed 13 games this weekend. I did 4 more monday night. My body feels really good. My kids are happy. They are busy and I am busy running them around and making dinner again. My oldest son is playing lacrosse and my 9 year old is playing soccer. My daughter is trying track for her middle school. My little son just turned 5. My husband got a big promotion and is now branch manager at one of the biggest branches in the credit union. Very soon, his income will pay all our expenses. All these great things are happening and I'm not really finding joy in any of it. Intellectually I can see how good it all is but my heart just isn't in it.

I know that I didn't lose a child. I lost the dream of a child. I still have 4 wonderful kids that I know. I really get them. I can tell you how they will react in a given situation. I can tell you what their teachers and their friends think of them. I can tell you how much they weigh and how tall they are. I can tell you their favorite clothes that they wear and their favorite things to do. I can tell you how they make me feel when we talk and how kind and generous they are. When they'll get mad and how they'll react. I am really nervous now that one of them will die. If I keep acting like things are bad maybe I will get shown how bad they can really be. I worry that my husband will have a heart attack or die in a car accident. I think that maybe I am too ungrateful and that I will have to learn a lesson about that too.

I just want to lay in my nice, cozy, warm bed in my dark bedroom and stay there. I don't even want to cry anymore. This is really not me. I'm not a gloomy, feel sorry for myself type of person. And so I don't go to bed. I get up and clean because I have a home inspection for our foster care license coming up. I stay up and make dinner and gluten free bread and the muffins my family loves. I stay up and watch tv with my husband at night. I run my kids around. But I keep feeling like I'm missing something. The world just seems to have lost some of its color. I keep hoping that I will feel happy and that soon I won't have to make myself do this stuff anymore. 

I will run 5 miles again soon and often.

Losing this last baby and all the other miscarriages will not define me. I won't let it. I will get through this too and come out better for it. And I will be happy.

Hope

I had a doctors appointment yesterday which was really just a mental health evaluation. Its been 2 weeks since delivery. My doctor really is so kind. I told him that I was doing fine but he wanted to delve and didn't seem happy until he made me cry a couple of times. That's just how I felt but really I think he wanted to make sure I'm fine.
The thing that is causing me trouble now is the fact that I am making this journey with my husband. And that's not a bad thing, in fact, its a wonderful thing. He is a tremendous strength to me and he seems to be sane when I'm not. I love him and want him to be happy. That's the problem. I feel like I have inflicted all this on him. I feel like I am the cause of his grief. I know that I was the driving force behind trying again and again and again and again and again and again. I feel responsible because its my stupid body that keeps causing all the trouble.
I told this to the doctor and I cried because I can shoulder the responsibility for my own decisions but its really hard when it affects someone else so deeply. The doctor said that I should never feel bad for asking someone to have hope.
Is that what I'm doing? I'm not sure. I can't figure out what is the compelling me to keep trying. The doctor said just yesterday that my chances of having a miscarriage are more than 50%. That's not great odds considering that time and again I fall in the less than 1% category.  I don't need more kids. I know that 4 is plenty. I wonder if I would have been satisfied with the kids I have if I had never tried again. Am I just not ready to accept defeat? This sounds more like me. Is it selfish to keep putting my husband and my children through this? At what point will I accept defeat and say enough? My husband said just yesterday that I could talk him into it again. Do I want to do that? Is that fair? Men can always be talked into trying.
The doctor also said that I will be very fertile in the coming weeks. It seems I always am. That's never been my problem, I wish it was. He really wants me to keep going. He feels that it is entirely possible that we can have a healthy baby. He hopes for me to have a great outcome.
I hope that I can accept whatever it is that Heavenly Father has in store for me. I hope that I can get some answers soon. Mostly I hope that I can be happy again.

Happy Birthday Steel

Happy Birthday to my Steel. Thanks for bringing SO much

 happiness to our lives. I am thankful everyday for you. You 

make my heart feel good.

Reffing Again...Ready or Not

Last night I reffed again for the first time since I lost the baby. It had been 9 days.

I was nervous and worried because fans, players and coaches don't usually treat referees as people. They say horrible mean things and criticize and critique. I feel certain the majority of them wouldn't talk like that to another person they met on the street. Let alone, someone that is working really hard to do a good job and has spent countless hours trying to become an expert in their field. Unfortunately this is basketball culture.The refs are the bad guys.

So, I thought about things I could do to curb the mean people. I thought about how I would handle coaches and fan. I wondered which teams I would get. At the facility that we work at, we see the same teams over and over. Even though I didn't feel like it I got ready and went.

My first partner was a young fireman named Dan. He's super cute. And he's a great ref. I had done both of the teams before. One of the coaches is a class act and never says anything. She concentrates on coaching her kids and lets the calls stand. They other guy is a read d. bag. He has a big chip on his shoulder. He struts around like a little rooster. Last time I did a game for him I should have thrown him from the gym but I didn't. So when I saw that team, I was like, CRAP. But as a blessing to me that night, he never said a word to me. I do have to say, we called a great game. That helps. And out of my 4 games, only one coach said anything to me. He asked me to help my partner out. I was reffing with my husband at the time. I quickly shut the coach down. I needed the encounter to be short because I didn't know how I would handle the conflice emotionally. It just wouldn't do for me to cry. And he didn't say another word and even came up to us afterwards and said good job. 

It felt really good to get back to normal. It was nice to do something that I really enjoy. It was great to get my body moving. I could sprint with the kids again on the fast breaks. That was nice. Because I didn't like how slow I was when I was pregnant. And when I think something like that I think that maybe that discounts that little baby that we tried to have. But then I remember that this is the new reality. Things will be easier but that doesn't necessarily make those things bad. 

I have made a lot of friends with the other officials. Male officials. I had to tell most of my partners because I got really slow and chubby and if I had to leave the court to throw up I wanted them to know why. I'm not sure how quickly word spread that I had a miscarriage. But I didn't say anything. In my area, out of 160 officials, there are like 6 women. We are in a man's world. And this doesn't bother me because I was raised by a would-be chauvinist. I know my dad had those leanings but after raising 5 daughters I think we knocked it out him. So I can hold my own with these men but I definitely didn't want to talk about losing my little baby. And it wasn't brought up so I could almost pretend like everything was great. 

The girl that runs the facility is visibly pregnant. I'm happy for her. She cradled her little tummy with both hands as she stood in front of me and honestly, I was happy for her. Trav said he notices all the pregnant ladies now. And it's true. While we are not envious because we only wanted our baby.  But we do seem to notice all the pregnant ladies and all the new babies. Trav said its probably like when you get a new car and then you notice everyone else that drives that one too. 

I feel like its disingenuous to that little soul that we don't get to raise that it is so easy to just move on. But then I think that the greatest thing I can do for any of my children is to live a full life and be happy. We don't write stories and tell tales of people that just laid in their beds and cried or were bitter and angry. We revere people that had courage. That did things that they seemingly shouldn't have been able to do. And even though it may only be me that can understand how much effort it takes to keep moving, that's enough.

Then there is a still higher type of courage - the courage to brave pain, to live with it, to never let others know of it and to still find joy in life; to wake up in the morning with an enthusiasm for the day ahead.

Howard Cosell

My Husband

I love this man!
This evening I asked Trav if I have gained weight since I lost the baby. He said yes. He gets me. He knows that I really want to know.
He has been amazing to me through this time. He took care of me while I was so sick with the pregnancy. And never complained. He is grieving too. And he forgives me when I like to pretend that this is all about me.
He said something years ago that has stayed with me. He said its important to know who will go into battle with him. I'm in. (Here is the place for Trav's favorite story about me that he tells to Elders Quorum about me defending him at a church basketball game with a baby on my hip.)
He is all the things that I wish I could be. He is kind, giving, fiercely loyal, non judgmental, carefree and hysterically funny. His physical stature is not something he can control but I love his size. Its dominating like in the Princess Bride when Fezzick yells Everybody move and the crowds clear.
He is my best friend and has grown accustomed to my constant yammering about this and that and still listens with at least one ear.
He is so proud of my accomplishments. He is interested when I talk incessantly about reffing (the first real hobby I have had since I became a mom).
I am so thankful that he was intrigued when I basically asked him to marry me. I am so grateful that he has stuck with me all these 17 years. I can see that putting in the time has allowed us to be happier together than I could ever imagine.
Sidenote: I realized looking at this picture that we were at this BYU football game the day after we found out about our 5th miscarriage at 12 weeks. Our boys really wanted to go. It was a "black out". I passed the miscarriage 5 days later and ended up in the hospital with a blood transfusion. Life goes on.

Basketball Again

I decided that I needed to quit moping around the house and get back to the land of the living. Physically, I feel fine. In fact, I'm still in really good shape. I haven't played basketball with the ladies since last fall. Though I have watched a ton of basketball it doesn't quite translate to being able to play.
A few of the gals knew that I had lost the baby last week but there were some new girls and other girls that knew I was pregnant. So I got some congratulations and then felt like Cruella De Ville when I had to say that I lost the baby last week.
But it was nice to use my body again. I am sort of mad at my body for not being able to carry a baby and then not making the baby right when we had the chance.. But I will have to learn to love it again because its what I've got. It was fun to play the sport that I enjoy. I had a hard time posting up and fighting for rebounds because my competitive edge isn't really there. (Don't worry. It'll be back.) But I had a good time running up and down and shooting the ball from the outside.
After an hour or so I felt the overwhelming urge to cry. I guess I was tired. I realize that emotionally I am still fragile but this was weird so I had to step off the court. Go in the bathroom. Cry a little and then wait for my friend that I was taking home (I had begged her to come with me tonight. I guess I needed her support.)
I am still amazed at how quickly life returns to normal and that, soon, that little baby that my body tried so hard to create wont be missed by anyone but me.

A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had. But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.- Barbara Kingsolver

Envy

Maybe it's because I had 4 trouble free pregnancies in a row, maybe its because I am the most miserable pregnant woman ever, or maybe because my babies never slept and always had ear infections that I don't envy pregnant women and new mothers.
A sweet friend, who birthed a stillborn baby of her own almost 2 years ago, texted me to check in. She is pregnant with a healthy baby after all this time. She wanted to make sure that I would not be mad at her because her baby is doing well. My reply: Never. I don't want your baby.I want mine and Trav's baby.
And its true. That's what I'm grieving for, the loss of OUR baby.
Trav's friend had her little baby on the same day that we lost ours. And I'm glad because something good should have happened on that day. I hope that every pregnant woman and new mom gets a chance to feel the same magic that I did when I was having my babies.

My Crazy, Little Family

Trav keeps reminding me that our little family is pretty great as it is. And that it will be enough work to raise these kids as they deserve. I quite agree.
(The little guys that are blurred out were the sweet foster sons we had last summer. Its infringes on parental rights to show their cute little faces. We miss them tons.)

Little Things

I guess this is how grief goes. Today I woke up feeling like a had a good handle on things. I can tell that my family and the rest of the world is moving on. Everyone else is ready to get back to normal. I can't help feeling to myself that everyone has forgotten that I just lost a baby. But I really am doing well. I can sleep again. I am really enjoying my kids and doing my work around the house
But then I was planning out my day tomorrow. I realized I would be next to Winco having a long overdue lunch with my friend and I should go stock up on my grains and flours. I haven't done that for a long time. Then I realized that I can pack and carry all those heavy 25 and 50 pound bags. It will be no problem for me. That's why I haven't gone to Winco for so long. I was worried about lifting heavy things and hurting the baby.  And then the tears hit. And then I turned them off quickly because life goes on.

Blessings

Since my previous miscarriage in October of 2012 I have embraced the song Blessings by Mercy River.
When they took away the little body of our would-be baby and we were left in the hospital room by ourselves I needed to find some comfort. I found this song on the tablet and just laid in the bed and wept while it played.

Lyrics to Blessings :

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
And all the while You hear each desperate plea
And long that we’d have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?
And what if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It’s not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst
This world can’t satisfy?

And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise?

Finding Peace...Finally

For most of last week I was pretty angry. I felt abandoned. My sense of justice was outraged. As an optimist, it was really hard to wrap my head around the fact that the outcome most likely will not be a happy ending. That is very hard for me to accept. And alot of people talk about the rewards we will receive in the next life. I know I am being really bratty when I think I don't care about what's next. I want some reward here. Why does it have to be so hard?
I found this quote last week and I wasn't really ready to hear the message it sent but it stayed with me.
I don't like to be angry. It's a heavy load to carry around. So I decided that whether I wanted to or not I needed to get to the temple. I knew that if I could find peace I had the best chance there.
When I was really sick with the my ear inner troubles we had just bought our first house that bordered the temple grounds in Lake Oswego. I remember that in the middle of the night when my 2 little babies were sleeping I would feel despair creeping in. How will I take care of these kids? Will I ever get better? Will I get worse? How can this be happening? I would look out the window in my kitchen and I could see the temple spire, glowing bright in the dark night and I would feel a physical calmness.
We went to the temple Friday night. When I sat down in the celestial room I was still wondering if I would find the peace I was searching for. And as I sat in this armchair, this overwhelming sense of love came over me. And I was reminded again of my own father. He would watch as I suffered with the overpowering vertigo, feeling helpless. And he said, If I could do this for you, I would. How that has strengthened my testimony of how much my Heavenly Father loves me. And even though it was hard to get through to me, I realized once again that this is something that I have to go through. That it's for my own good. That if it could be taken from me and there was some other way for me to be refined and come to Christ with a broken heart that it would be different. I'm sure that my Heavenly Father and Jesus are sharing in my sorrows. I remember the quote from the New Testament. Jesus wept. He shares our grief. There is so much more to this life than losing a little baby whose body would never sustain life. If I cannot be open to the experience then this will all be for naught.
So the feeling that I was abandoned by my Heavenly Father was lifted and I knew that I was loved. And that brought peace but I still had the helpless wondering of what is all this for?
I have always been a huge Captain Moroni fan. I have always loved his courage and his absolute dedication to his cause. I love the image of him waving his banner and giving his people something to fight for. I feel like this experience has allowed my to wave my banner. I hope that my daughter and my sons and my grandchildren to come with always know that I have faith in Christ. That I will be obedient. That I will bend my will to the Lord's, regardless of the consequences. I did know that losing the baby was the likely ending. Oh, I did hope it was otherwise. I hoped that if I did lose it, that it would be early. Because truly the sight of the little body haunts me and I can't bear to open the little box containing the hand and feet molds and the little blanket that someone hand made that is now bloodstained. But I did it anyways. And I would do it again. And when I told Travis about how I hoped that my children would be strengthened in the gospel and that I hope that now they would always know what our testimony is and where we stand. He said if that's the case and it makes their journey easier he would do it 100 times over.
On our way to the deliver the baby Travis said I wonder if this is an Ephraim Hanks moment. I have loved Ephraim Hanks' story since I read it years ago. I has stuck with me. When he said I will go. That has affected me. Trav said maybe this is like when Brigham Young asked him to shave his beard just to see if he would be obedient.
Abraham took Isaac, who went willingly to be sacrificed. He fully intended to kill his son. He was saved from this act in the final seconds but his determination was real. And while me losing this 6th pregnancy really cannot compare to Abraham's willingness to sacrifice I can only hope that somehow this experience will buoy my children. That they can see that their parents are willing to do what small act of obedience that we can if it means that we are bending to the Lord's will and coming forward with a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Oh, how I wish that I were meek and mild, how I wish that it weren't so hard for my heart to be broken. I wonder if I would have learned how to bend earlier if I would have had to go through these experiences but I cannot go back. I can only move forward.



I often think about what a warrior my own father is. I get physical pain in my body when I think of losing him to the 6 year battle with cancer that he has been fighting. The fortitude of spirit that he possesses to me is unmatched. That he was able overcome the severe abuse and the horrors of his childhood to me is miraculous. He was a wonderful, loving, devoted father who worked physically, daily for his family. He became this way on his own because I am sure that he never modeled his father's behavior. My dad was everything that a father could be to his children. He was a hero. I feel certain that in the counsels of heaven before we came down to Earth that my father stepped up and said he would come before my siblings and I and he would make our pathway easier. Isn't that what every parent wants for their children? I don't know if he had any doubts but I feel sure that I didn't doubt that he could do it. I hope that my struggles and sorrows will make the pathway easier for my children. I hope that they won't ever doubt my testimony and my faith.

This story from Elder Bednar has stuck with me about not shrinking.

"Earlier in that same year, Elder Maxwell underwent 46 days and nights of debilitating chemotherapy for leukemia. Shortly after completing his treatments and being released from the hospital, he spoke briefly in the April general conference of the Church. His rehabilitation and continued therapy progressed positively through the spring and summer months, but Elder Maxwell’s physical strength and stamina were nonetheless limited when he traveled to Rexburg. After greeting Elder and Sister Maxwell at the airport, Susan and I drove them to our home for rest and a light lunch before the devotional.During the course of our conversations that day, I asked Elder Maxwell what lessons he had learned through his illness. I will remember always the precise and penetrating answer he gave. “Dave,” he said, “I have learned that not shrinking is more important than surviving.”His response to my inquiry was a principle with which he had gained extensive personal experience during his chemotherapy. As Elder Maxwell and his wife were driving to the hospital in January of 1997, on the day he was scheduled to begin his first round of treatment, they pulled into the parking lot and paused for a private moment together. Elder Maxwell “breathed a deep sigh and looked at [his wife]. He reached for her hand and said … , ‘I just don’t want to shrink’”

I wanted to express what had brought me peace to my daughter and we had a little chat Saturday night. I explained to her what I thought we could learn from all of these miscarriages. I explained that I never want her to doubt that I will do whatever I can in my own little world to show my faith in Christ. Like Ephraim Hanks that I will be ready to say I will go. That I don't want to shrink. And she asked if you received revelation again that you were supposed to try again to have a baby, would you? I can answer honestly, quickly and definitively, yes.

Trav's T

This is the t shirt my husband was wearing when we went in Monday for our doctors appointment. He changed it when we came home to take the kids to Grandmas. He never said anything. Just changed it. Maybe he thought it was irreverent to wear when his wife was delivering a dead baby. The shirt's funny because he pretends like he's in charge but we all know better.
 I didn't even think about it until I was watching my sons basketball game today, going over that day again. I asked him why he changed  his shirt. He said it was "weird". I bought him that shirt.

Sharing

I know it seems weird to share an experience so personal. I started writing the blog to get rid of some of the nervous energy and dread that I was feeling. It seemed to help to put words to emotions and recognition is always good, right?
I am hoping that by sending my feelings out into the atmosphere maybe they will dissipate and go away. Because even talking to Travis I can never really express what I am feeling. Its too raw and feel like such a brat for acting like the world is ending. I know tons of people that have struggles that are way worse than what I've gone through. I still get to be here. I live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood and drive a nice van. I can still fit in my designer jeans that I bought at the DI. I still have my husband and our 4 kids. And Trav still loves me, go figure. My dad is kicking cancer's butt. We still have our dog after over 11 years, she's almost totally deaf, but she's here.
So, I'm hoping selfishly that if you read this that you can share some of the burden with me because truly, I am sick of feeling sad. It's just not me.

Decisions. Decisions.

This post is personal and I usually don't talk about stuff like this but something positive or useful or educational needs to come of this.
After I had my 5th miscarriage in just over a year and ended up needed a blood transfusion we decided to end the craziness. I got an IUD. Over the summer we had 2 sweet foster boys so it was a super fun, busy summer with 6 kids. It was great.
While I was in Oregon for the wedding of my niece I was attending the temple. We had gone through the session and I was getting dressed. Now I had been pondering the idea of trying to have another kid for a couple of months but the idea was so insane that I never voiced it to Travis. But there in the dressing room I heard the words in my head. You need to try for another one. That's what I heard. And I knew it meant I should try to get pregnant again. That's easy for me. It's hard not to get pregnant with Trav around. I also understood quite clearly that it meant no guarantees. I didn't hear you need to have another baby. I heard something similar to that when it was time to have Steel. But this time it was you need to try. I felt very strongly that I was being asked to try. I knew that actually getting a baby from it was an uncertainty.
So, I talked to Travis and he was on board for trying. But we both said once more, that's it. I got pregnant within 2 months of having the IUD out. And you know the rest.
I am still trying to reconcile myself with what is supposed to come of all of this. I still wonder why I couldn't keep any of the babies that I have lost. And I know that some people will say that I will get to raise them in the next life but I don't know if that's true.
When I am doubting myself and my choices and my bossiness it is nice to have the assurance that this is something I was supposed to do and go through. I don't doubt that voice I heard in the temple telling me to try.  And some day I would like to know why. Because I'm kind of mad. But I would do it again.

The Baby Died.

At around 16 weeks I started to feel pretty good. Then I got the flu and a cold and felt awful again for a week and then I miraculously felt great. This was a bad sign. But I was 17 weeks. I convinced myself that it was time to start feeling better and that this was just normal. I had been down, really down with the morning sickness for so long that it felt so good to be up and taking care of my family again. I could run up and down the court. I even did a double header with lots of energy.
There were times when I had my phone all ready to call the doctor and get seen again and I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear the bad news. And, selfishly, I wanted to finish the basketball season. I had worked really hard and I had won an award. My name was getting out. People were watching me and talking about me. I knew that if the baby had died, I would have to deliver and then I would most likely be done for the season. I still don't know how I will ref in the coming months when fans are so mean. It won't look great for an official to break down in tears because someone doesn't like my calls.
So, I put it off. But I thought about it every second. There wasn't a time that I was sure the baby was still there. My husband is an optimist. He didn't love it when I asked him multiple times a day, do you think the baby is still alive? He never saw this coming. We had names picked out for the baby. Taggert Whyte if it was a boy. Whyte is for my husband's grandpa. Greta Claire if it was a girl. Greta after my great friend who basically saved my life by serving me when we lived in Oregon. And Claire after my grandmother whom I never met but who I felt very strongly helping me through the last miscarriage when I had to have a blood transfusion. She had lost babies too.
I would lay in my bed with my hands on my stomach pleading with the baby to move so I could feel it and be sure. But, obviously that never happened. But I have never felt my babies move early. I am quite large and I hoped it was because had space. I talked to the baby and told it that we loved it and wanted it so badly. I would beg my Heavenly Father to allow this baby to come. That we would love it and take such good care of it.
So we went about our regular business. I started grocery shopping. I started organizing my closets and getting ready for our home inspection for our foster care license. I even started cooking again. I had a regular appointment scheduled and I waited.
My appointment happened to be on Presidents Day. Trav had the day of so he could come. That made me so happy because I knew I would have a hard time being alone with bad news. It gave me strength to have him by my side. So we went to our appointment at 10. We had to wait 20 minutes because the doctor had deliveries. Trav saw an old co worker and they talked. Trav told him this was our 5th. So proud. So not ready. I couldn't help the feelings of dread. But in this pregnancy I was nervous so much and it was fine so I tried to be hopeful.
I told the nurse that I was nervous. I told the doctor. He said I know about your history and its fine. Everything is fine. But he couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler. I knew it was a bad sign because always they find the baby's heartbeat first. Then with the handheld ultrasound he said he couldn't see anything. I think he lied to me. Because then he started to try to distract me. He asked where I was from. He's from Oregon too. He started chatting about this guy we both knew from there. But I just wanted to know for sure. Even when they took us to the room to do the big ultrasound, Trav says he still wasn't worried. He was playing on his phone and carefree. When the baby came on the screen, it was so obvious that it was dead. I waited about 5 seconds and then asked, No heartbeat, right? He said no in a really soft voice. He was very sympathetic. But I can't stand sympathy. That's no what I wanted. I wanted to run away. To bawl my face off where no one could see. But he had to find out when it died. How big it was. Then we had to chat about when I wanted to deliver it. I wanted to do it at home but the risk of bleeding goes up by like 40%. That's what he said anyway. Given my past history we couldn't risk it. We had to do it at the hospital.
We never had enough money. I can't remember the last time that Trav's regular paycheck paid our bills. I have to ref to buy groceries or we wait for a bonus check or a tax return. Well, this year, Trav is finally earning enough money that we don't qualify for alot the tax credits so our tax return is very small. We usually live off of it for the year. Use it to make up the difference. Well, this year it won't happen. I was willing to sacrifice even more for our baby. But I sure didn't want to have to make my family sacrifice for a dead baby. But now we have a hospital bill to pay for and no baby. Talk about insult to injury. I guess I came through it healthy and feeling physically fine but it seems like alot. We had already had to pay hundreds for the extra first trimester monitoring. I am getting lost in the finances. Transference, right? Talking about things that don't matter to distract from the things that do....
I had to call my mother-in-law and ask if she could take the kids. I didn't want to do this because she is already attached to our little babies and wants them as bad as we do. I can still hear her crying in my mind when I told her and I feel so bad. I willingly got pregnant again know that this was the likely outcome. I feel very mean for causing grief to others. My husband mostly. We came home and told the boys and they seemed fine. When I asked my almost 5 year what he thought. He said I'm hungry. I worried about him because his mantra was I'm so excited for the baby. He was so protective of my tummy and took such good care of me. My 8 year old who is actually pretty sensitive was pretty bratty because he couldn't play with his friend. I think this was an outlet for him because he wasn't quite sure how to express what he was feeling. And my 11 year was stoic. That's what he does. Trav was devastated. He is so big and strong. He takes things in stride and to see him like this was really hard. I just didn't have it in me to try to console him when I felt like I had caused the whole thing.
So we dropped the boys off. My 14 year old daughter was working so we couldn't tell her in person which was probably fine because I knew she would take it really hard. She really wanted a sister. We were both really convinced it was a girl. The morning sickness I thought had to be because it was a girl but instead it was a symptom of chromosome problems in the baby. Who knew? The doctors and nurses always smiled and said nausea is a good sign in pregnancy.
Then we checked into the hospital to wait. They acted as if I was having a real baby. An IV, a monitor. For what? I asked. We don't have to worry. For the first time, I could use drugs if I wanted. We don't need to worry about the baby. It's already dead. The nurse was sort of taken aback when I said that. But both of my nurses where very kind. They were great to both of us. Trav never left my side the whole time. I think it was because he knew I needed him and because he was worried if he left and missed anything I would hold it against him forever.
We got to the hospital at noon. They got the medication started at 1:30. I expected to be home by afternoon. The last time I had used this medication I had passed everything in 3 hours. I was expecting this same result. I guess since I was further along they can't use the same amount of medication because it can blow out the side of the uterus instead of dilating the cervix. It can result in a hysterectomy. That sounded fine to me. Then we would finally have an answer. The doctor didn't like this. He really wanted me to know that I had a great possibility of having a healthy baby. I laughed at him. He backed this up with a stat 1 in 120 pregnancies has chromosome problems at our age. I laughed again. I am always in the small percentage. That's big odds for us. It's something like less than 1% of women that have recurrent miscarriages. 50% of those can never find a cause. Well, we found one this time. I was like so I'm having a dead baby because I'm old so when I'm older I'll have a better chance. I don't think so. The doctor really was kind and great. He felt so bad for us. He was on the verge of tears more than once. Which didn't help me because I don't like to cry in front of anyone. I held it together pretty well. I had a breakdown at around 8:30. I had another dose of medicine but still nothing was happening. I told Trav, I guess my body doesn't want to lose the baby either.
Trav's old boss and friend texted him to say how sorry he was and to take all the time he needed. I just couldn't stand any more sympathy and it threw me over the edge. I had to tell Travis how sorry I was for killing this baby and all the other ones. I was selfish to keep reffing, maybe that killed it. Maybe it was the milk duds that I ate. All that corn syrup killed the baby from mercury poisoning. Maybe it was all the gluten that I ate, I ate lots of bagels and sandwiches, they didn't hurt my stomach. I told him that he should find a young girl that could give him babies. I just cried and cried and cried. I wanted the baby so bad. It was MINE. I was just so mad that this baby got taken from me too. I was a brat I said. Why do I have to charge ahead in everything? Why do I always have to have my own way? Why can't I be meek and gentle? Trav actually laughed because that's so not me. I told him that I killed it because I was so negative but I really did want it. Maybe Heavenly Father took the baby because I was mad that I was so sick. Did I say it wasn't worth it? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. He held me and let me vent and cry and be mad and sad. He didn't try to get me to stop. But after like 20 minutes, which is a doozy for me, I heard this voice plainly in my head say, Pull it together. Who it was, I can't say. Maybe my grandmother Claire? I don't know. But I listened. I stopped. Told Trav not to look at me and went to the bathroom to throw up and then clean up. I didn't want to like I had a breakdown when the nurse came back in to check on me.
I didn't want to get back in the stupid bed so I sat on the couch and watched TV with Trav waiting for something to happen.
Earlier the hospital social worker had come to see me. He remembered me from my last miscarriage. He gave my kids these build a bears called Forever Bear. An eagle scout had donated them to the hospital for siblings of dead babies. He was so nice. He felt so bad that he made me cry and I don't like him anymore. But my kids have loved the bears. They have been so nice for them to love on. What a kind boy and what a great eagle project. Thor may do the very same one.
Around 1 I went to go potty and felt some pressure so I had the nurse check. The contractions at this point were there but I still didn't even need to breathe through them. I hate medication because I have been dizzy too much in this life and I avoid medication that could possibly make me dizzy. I will take horrible pain all day over dizziness. I told the nurse and doctor that emphatically so they never offered it again. The nurse checked and called the doctor. He got all up in my business and had me push a little before he gave me another dose of medicine and went wherever he goes. So the contractions so stronger but still no biggie for maybe 15 minutes and then my water broke. I thought I was having the baby with no one in the room so I freaked Trav out. I didn't want to see the baby. I didn't want to be the one to have to hold it. The nurse came and it was just water. That's the first time my water broke on its own. The contractions stopped. The doctor came right in and delivered the baby. It took maybe 5 little pushes. It didn't look like a baby. The nurse handed it to me. I asked is this what a normal baby looks like and the doctor said no. You could see that the babys neck was what the doctor called "webbed". I didn't like that he used that word because it reminded me of a duck, a farm animal. I was sort of offended that used that word to describe my baby. Because even though it wasn't perfect, I had loved it and wanted it so bad. The nurse put it in a washcloth to let me hold it. We thought it was a girl. The doctor didn't look closely. He was worried about delivering the placenta because that is what makes the bleeding happen is if the placenta doesn't all come out. So he worked down in the nether regions for a while to make sure that my cervix didn't close before it all came out. And they gave me a shot in the thigh. The whole while I was laying in the bed holding my dead deformed little baby. She didn't form well but her little hands and feet were perfect. She had short arms and legs and a big tummy. Her face didn't look great. It was a relief to see this little body because we both knew that there was no way it could have made it. We finally had an answer to why this baby died. So that was nice in a way. When I got to hold the body it was warm. Trav held her. I just didn't want to let her go. We decided to let the hospital dispose of the body. It was tough for me but Trav reminded me that its just a body. I want to be cremated when I die. He reminded me of that. It's just a body. The spirit is already gone. I wish I could have known that spirit. That I could have sensed her somehow so that I can recognize her later.
After an hour I finally let the body go. The body was cold. They had moved her to a little blanket and wrap someone had handmade. The body was sticking to the washcloth.
I wanted to go home. I was done. I knew I couldn't grieve in the hospital. So, I got the all clear and got dressed. They had called this lady named Rachel and she came in the middle of the night to do hand and feet molds. They are the size of my fingernails. She also did hand and footprints and gave me the little blankets that they wrapped the baby in. She put them in a little box. She wanted to show them to me but I couldn't do it. I thanked her and stuffed the box in my bag. She also said the baby was a girl, for sure. I had thought it was a girl so I was glad. I thought the reason I didn't feel like our family was done was because we were supposed to have a girl. I didn't think I would have a dead baby girl I thought I would get to raise a baby girl.
We came home around 4. Our daughter was staying with the 2 older boys so we wanted to get home to them.
It was surreal. We left home going to a regular doctors visit and came home, no baby, not pregnant. Just to a world that had somehow gone gray in a day. There was no more magic in life. Nothing exciting to look forward too. I told Trav we just have to adjust to a new reality. There I am always trying to make everyone move forward. Life goes on, I always say. And even though I mean it and it is my mantra I just wanted the world to stop. Please let me grieve. Let me be sad. Let me just sit here until the hurt goes away. But life really does go on. And I couldn't take care of my family for 3 months because I was so sick and I didn't want to miss any more grieving for a baby that never really was or even never could be.
I don't sleep anymore. I haven't really since that night. That's why I'm still up at 5 in the morning. So I finally had to stop talking that morning to let Trav sleep. I finally drifted off to wake up around 9. Trav was up with our littlest. My daughter had been up early. She had done the dishes. She had gotten the boys and herself off. She had diced up onions and whipped up eggs for an omelet. She had simmered tea for me. What kindness and thoughtfulness. I know she was grieving but she was serving us. It made us both happy to think that we were raising her right. But that's too much credit to us because she really is a good girl on her own.
When I'm upset I move. So I cleaned all that day. Not scrubbing the floor and the toilets because that's no fun but I started organizing mundane things and doing laundry.
Trav just wanted to play video games because then he didn't have to think. That was fine with me. How do you console someone when you feel responsible for their grief? I don't want to feel sad anymore. I was sad the whole pregnancy knowing how it would end. It was sort of a relief to have some finality. It was agonizing for me to have to got 18 weeks before the baby died. The earlier the better I guess. I said that to a lady that dropped of dinner. I said I wish it had happened sooner and I don't think she was expecting that.
I will go on with my life. I really am fine. I need to find some color in my life again. And I will. I always do. I am not a moper. There's always something that needs to be done. I'm a mama. That's why I'm here.

15 weeks

At almost 15 weeks I panicked. My stomach was still flat. I was feeling very stressed about the pregnancy so I insisted on being seen. The nurse practioner did an ultrasound with a little hand held device and found the heartbeat right away. The baby was moving its arm around, looking really good. I started to cry with relief because I walked into the appointment fully expecting no heartbeat. But we were good to go so I cancelled the appointment that I had for the following week feeling very confident. I was still very nauseous. That was a great sign too.
Here I am at 17 weeks. The baby had already died. Sigh....

My daughter really wanted to do weekly pictures and post them to facebook. I was all ready for the 18 week one but decided to wait until after our doctors appointment.

12 weeks

Yesterday was my appointment to determine if everything is still okay before I can come off the progesterone. They didn't put me in the room that I normally go in to get ultrasounds. When the doctor came in he said that if they can hear the baby's heartbeat through the abdomen then our chance of miscarriage is 2%. Once we heard the heartbeat it was 5% but I have been in that 5% before. It's not very comforting for me.
I was very nervous but the doctor found the heartbeat within a few seconds. It seemed very long. Great news. We still have a baby. I wasn't that worried this time like I was at earlier appointments because I have been very sick. Throwing up and being very weak. This feels like a normal pregnancy for me. This is what I usually do. I got some Zofran because I would like to complete the basketball season and I don't want to barf on the court.
Good news for us. My daughter really wanted to announce my pregnancy so I posted it on facebook. I hope that I am not premature but you've got to live a little and I wanted to show her that I have hope.