Five Years Ago

I was waiting to miscarry my first child.

I can't believe it's been 5 years. My heart still breaks when I think about our first little one. At 8w1d we had an on-time baby with a strong heartbeat. 10 days later, we went to the ER and found our little one was gone. 3 days after that, I had a D&C.

Have I healed? Maybe some. I don't cry every day, but I do think about that first baby every day. Those were the only ultrasound photos of a loss I had kept, and it was the loss that shattered my innocence. Little did I know that my heart would keep breaking over and over and over again.

It's been 6 years since we started trying to have a baby.

5 years since our first loss.

3 years since Emma was born.

Almost 1 year since our last chemical pregnancy loss.

And 12 days since Aaron entered our lives outside my womb.

I'm glad the roller coaster is over. As I listen to my new son squirm around, grunt and cry, watch him taking in the world around him, and enjoy the sight of his big sister cuddling with him in the morning, I know the pain was worth it. But boy, was it hard. So very, very hard.

I miss all 9 of my babies, no matter how long or short those pregnancies were. Each and every one of them were desperately wanted and loved. I wish I knew what they would have been like, had they grown up. I wish I could have named them. I hope they knew how much they were loved, even in their short presence here on earth.

No matter how much time goes by, and how busy I get with my two amazing kids, I will never forget. Ever.

October 15th

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I'm grateful to have the living child that I have, and incredibly grateful to be pregnant with our second, but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't forget the 9 babies that I have lost. I miss you, little ones.

Mother's Day

It's a bittersweet Mother's day. I got a wonderful Breakfast in bed, and a snuggle from my amazing Emma. I'm having hope for this baby in my belly that I get to see again on Friday, and despite our continued financial concerns related to Joe's almost-year of not gainful employment, life is good.

But I miss my Mom. So very, very, very much. So much that my heart aches with the pain of missing her. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about her and miss her, wish she were here. I sent flowers to my younger brother today so he could take them to my Mom's grave site for her.

I miss my lost babies, all 9 of them. All the hopes and dreams that were lost, all that pain that we suffered in losing them, and the long journey from 2006 when we started to today.

So much pain. So much joy. This must be what being a Mother is all about.

October 15th

Today is Infant Loss and Remembrance Day. I'm supposed to light a candle for each of my losses at 7pm to participate in the wave of light around the world. Except at 7pm I was putting my one living angel to bed, and I don't have 6 candles in the house. Not even close.

But I remember. I will ALWAYS remember. And my heart breaks every time I remember my six children that never made it past the first trimester.

I had my HSG this past week. Everything looked great -- no scar tissue and both tubes open. I got my bloodwork results back also. My FSH looked reasonable (5.6 instead of 9.9 like it was at its highest) but my AMH was terrible. Significantly bad -- 0.4. "Normal" is 2-3. It means I virtually have NO ovarian reserve left. Devastating to hear, and I haven't been myself since I learned this information. I've got to grieve the loss of my dream, my life-long dream of having two children running around and watching them grow and be there for each other. At this point we can't even afford adoption. Joe still doesn't have a job after 5 months, and things don't look hopeful.

Miracles happen, I know they do. I've got one sleeping upstairs right now. Maybe we'll get lucky again, or maybe we'll muddle through and this one amazing little girl will be all we can handle.

TTC#2 update

We lost another one. This is miscarriage #6. This one started with a heartbeat but was measuring behind. Nothing left today other than a yolk sac that was breaking down. OB is heartbroken, I'm heartbroken. I have to make a decision about how hard to try to keep going with this until I give up.

Memory Shawl

I've never crocheted a shawl before, but I wanted to do this in memory of my Mom, who taught me how to crochet. I picked the colors to represent how I'm feeling right now (black and grey with shades of purple), and also picked out some yarn for Cousin Heather, so she could crochet along with me if she'd like. I picked a shawl project so I could wrap this around me when I was missing my Mom and feel like I was getting one of her warm hugs. The yarn was purchased on 3/5/11 and I finished the shawl on 4/3/11. I wore it today at work, and it brought me a lot of joy.

Quiet

While I have a moment in between clients and other various things, I thought I'd take a moment to just think outloud. There are only a few moments of quiet in my day, which is actually a really good thing right now. One quiet moment is when I wake up before Emma is up and the next is when I'm rocking her to sleep in the evenings. Why is it a good thing there's few quiet moments? Because if it's not quiet, I'm not thinking. I'm either running after her, fixing dinner, working on paperwork, grading papers, checking emails, crocheting, etc. I don't have to think or feel anything in particular other than what is going on in that moment.

In the quiet moments is when I cry and miss my Mom. My mind wanders to the last time we talked, to what she looked like in the casket, and how Emma's memories of her are already fading. I haven't done much updating here because I get tearful, thinking that this blog was primarily for my Mom and now she's not reading it. I don't know what to write, I really don't know what things to share. I do know others come to the blog and check out things but it's just not the same. This blog was her link to her granddaughter. As was Skype.

I'll try to do a better job and post more, but please readers, understand that this is harder than I realized it would be to keep going here. We haven't even taken as many pictures or videos as we did before, which I want/need to keep doing. Low motivation combined with grief is not a great combo. I'll get there, I promise, but things are still raw.

Tribute To My Mom

I know I'll never be able to put into words how I feel about my Mom, nor how much I desperately miss her. But I know that writing helps me move through my grief -- it helped me with my miscarriages and the loss of my kitties, so I'm going to try and write now.

One of my earliest memories of my Mom is of her warmth. Whenever she would put me to bed and we would say our prayers, she would rub my back or stroke my hair, and her hands were warm and would soothe me. When we were in church, she would put her arm around me during the sermon and when it was over, I would miss her arm because it was so warm and comforting. Even when I got older, I loved to get hugs from my Mom and cuddle with her. She was a warm person, loving and unconditionally accepting of all people and all things. She loved without reservation. Even when us kids got under her skin, were terribly mouthy and caused trouble, she loved us.

My Mom was patient and kind. She got frustrated, of course. When I went into the nursing home field in graduate school, we would exchange stories about stressful times -- but despite those stresses, she was patient with her residents and didn't raise her voice, didn't tell them she wouldn't help them, none of that. She went out of her way to do things other nurses wouldn't do, like change a dirty undergarment or hold someone's hand. Her residents loved her. She was so proud when she earned employee of the month at her last work site, and that card is still hanging up in her room at home.

Mom at her dorm room in Beloit

I hope my Mom knows how proud of her I am. I told her, over and over again. She went back to work when we were all in high school, and then went back to school. She had always wanted to be a nurse, and finally got to fulfill her dream. She worked HARD in school -- she struggled to keep up with the younger kids, and felt her memory wasn't good enough. But she kept working and not only did she get her LPN and her RN, but she was close to the top of her class. She LOVED working as a nurse. I think this is one of the reasons she was so depressed after she broke her femur and learned that she wouldn't be able to work again. For some reason after that surgery to repair the leg, she never was able to breathe easily again (not that the long years of smoking didn't probably add to the damage) and had to go on oxygen 24-7, and her breathing progressively got worse. She couldn't crochet, she couldn't play with her grandkids, and she restricted herself to the home because she was embarrassed about the oxygen tubing and her weight.

Mom at her RN graduation with Dad

But she was getting better after Emma's birth. We brought her a new computer in June when we went home for Emma's baptism, and just recently (maybe September?) Dad got her high-speed internet. She was able to Skype with us frequently -- almost every-other night -- and got to see Emma walking, playing, talking, and interacting with her. I loved it because I was able to see her and touch base with her often, hear what was going on at the farm and how she'd been doing. For the first time since I moved to Ohio, I felt re-connected with her. Emma recognized her too. We'd say "where's Grandma?" and she'd go to the computer and wave. She even would say "Hi Grandma" in her own way. It broke my heart when we went to the funeral home to see Mom for the last time, and Emma not only recognized her, but waved at her.

There are a million stories, a million reasons why I love my Mom. A few years ago I wrote "100 reasons I love my Mom," printed it out and gave it to her as a gift. I'm glad I did that before it was too late. Maybe I'll post it here someday. My heart breaks every time I think about her being gone. It was just 2 weeks ago this evening that I talked to her for the last time, and then a few hours later, she was gone. I miss her SO much.

Am I ok? No, not really. I will be someday. But for right now, I'm just lost without her.

Mom's RN graduation picture

Yes, You Can Be "A Little"

Pregnant, that is.

Yes, I was. And No, I'm not now. At our OB appointment last month, the doctor gave us the green light to start trying for #2. We took the "don't prevent, but don't make a huge effort" approach. On Joe's birthday, on a whim and on the last POAS test in the house, I decided to test. It was 11 dpo. And it came up positive.

He and I both were in shock. We spent 24 hours reveling in the wonder of an "easy" time getting pregnant. We thought of baby names and speculated about how Emma might feel. We learned we'd be due in mid-April, and had all kinds of ideas about what milestones we'd enjoy at different times of years.

Unfortunately, the next day's test was fainter. And the day after that, the test was negative. My hCG levels were at 36 the first day (fairly normal for 11dpo) but 18 yesterday. I'm having a "chemical" pregnancy. AF should show up soon.

I'm devastated, of course. I thought the universe was doing me a great favor, and maybe making up for the horrible time we had trying to get Emma. I guess it's just another slap in the face. And no matter what they call it, I'm calling it my fourth miscarriage. I've been pregnant 5 times, and I have one living baby.

I'm taking tomorrow as a mental health day. In the morning, by myself I'm taking time to reflect, to cry and to just let myself grieve. In the afternoon, I'm getting Emma and as a family, we're going to go out and spend time together. I want to appreciate the living child I have, even as I grieve what "might" have been.

Big Updates!

Some wonderful things have been happening! Emma slept for 4 hours in a row last night!! I woke up this morning feeling *so* refreshed, I couldn't believe it. Now, I'm completely exhausted at the moment but am so happy about that change.

She's also been pooping 1-2 times a day, and so it's been wonderful to not have all those wet farts and tiny poops that drive her nuts. She's a happier baby with fewer poos also!

We're gearing up to leave tomorrow morning for Washington, DC. I have all her things packed, all my things packed, and she's had her bath for the night. All we need to do is get up, take our showers, and get everything in the car. I'm very anxious about the trip, but hopeful that it will go much smoother than I expect. We'll have WiFi in the hotel but I don't know how much I'll be able to update there.

And so this isn't an entirely boring word post, here's a video of Daddy & Emma from a few days ago!



And as I'm posting about my beautiful daughter, I realized that it was one year ago this date that I got my positive pregnancy test that revealed I would have Emma.... and exactly two years ago on this day that I started to miscarry my second pregnancy. It's so hard to reconcile how I feel right now -- so blessed that I have her in my arms, but grieving the loss of my babies still. I don't think that pain will ever, ever go away.