Annoyance Of The Day.

Pregnancy e-mails are like bad door-to-door salesmen. How many times to I have to tell them "no" before they will stop?

Guess what guys? According to my inbox, I'm a glowing 19 weeks pregnant!

Oh...wait...

Too Much Information.

You know how sometimes I sort of over-share? Well, this is one of those posts. So you can go away now if you want...

My surgery was six weeks ago tomorrow. I had a follow up appointment about two weeks after my surgery where they found some "tissue" that was left behind, whatever that means. They gave me a pill that was supposed to get rid of the rest of it, I took it, that was that.

Then, about a week ago, I started getting severe stabbing pains in my lower stomach. I would feel fine one second, then like someone was running a giant dagger through my body the next. There was one morning that I came home, got in bed, and was actually scared to move because it hurt so bad. I called my doctor's office and spoke with a nurse yesterday morning and explained what was going on. She told me they wanted me to come in for an ultrasound to make sure I didn't have leftover "tissue" (I hate that word) inside that was causing the pain. Needless to say, I had a mini freak-out. I had it made up in my mind that this was the end of my fertility and I was officially infected and scarred.

I scheduled my appointment for first thing this morning. My regular doctor didn't have openings, but I wanted to get in as soon as possible to get on antibiotics if needed. I told them I would take whatever they could give me. Thankfully, the doctor they ended up putting me with was wonderful. I love calm doctors. I tend to be a little...um...high-strung. Whenever I find a doctor that can chill me out, it is a very good thing. This doctor relaxed me more than I thought was possible. He listened to my concerns, and decided to go ahead with the ultrasound. Can I just tell you how much ultrasounds suck nowadays? They suck. Bad. I miss seeing my baby in there. But, on a happy note, it showed a clean, shiny, new uterus! No "tissue" (ugh.) He said everything looks pristine and my body is ready for our new baby whenever he or she decides to come.

As for the pain I was feeling? The way he explained it to me, it was "pregnancy contractions without the continuation of the pregnancy." It was my body's last effort to get rid of anything and everything that should not be in there. Contractions? Really? I have officially experienced all of the crappy parts of pregnancy with no baby to bring home. Oh well. I'm choosing to focus on the positive. This should be my last physical hurdle of this miscarriage. I also got some encouraging information in the mail today that I will be following up on soon (more on that later.)

So, for now, I'm still keepin' on.

Some Persue Happiness-Others Create It.

God. My husband. My family. Laying in bed with the window open in the middle of a thunder storm. Freshly painted nails. Looking at diamonds. Frozen hot chocolate. Imagining my future children. Playing with my pug. Leaving the dentist with clean teeth knowing I don't have to go back for 6 more months. Finding a great pair of jeans. Clean sheets. Not having to do the dishes. When Chris likes the food I cook. Glee. Cadbury mini chocolate eggs. Having someone else wash my hair. Looking at the stars. Hiking by myself. Crawling in bed without setting an alarm. Babies. Mountain Dew. Running. Smashbox makeup. Minty chapstick. Green grass against a bright blue sky with puffy white clouds. Summer night walks with my husband and our dog. Feeling appreciated. Getting my cleaning done for the week. Getting a pedicure with my mom. Getting the monthly bills in the mail. Saving worms from the roadway after a heavy rain. Watching videos of parrots talking and singing. Red velvet cake. Flip flops. Hanging out at my dad's house. Walking around the mall holding hands with Chris. Singing in my car. Singing in the shower. Singing. Painting. Having dinner with my in-laws. Quiet evenings at home with nowhere to go. Movie theater popcorn. Sunsets. Sunrises. Weddings. Finding a book I can't put down. The smell of a new puppy. Saving money. When Chris is still in bed when I get home from work in the morning. Writing. Knowing I've made a difference, even if it is to just one person. Snuggling with a new baby. Feeling accomplished. Compliments. Listening to birds chirping on drive home to wake everyone else up as I'm getting ready for bed. The way my pug responds to the word "dinner." My amazing friends. Arby's chicken salad sandwiches. Spending time with  my brothers. Laughing so hard with Chris that we both cry. Reading encouraging blogs. Perfume. Being a "regular" at different places. Loving and being loved in return. Roses. Being surprised by Chris. My journal of sweet text messages sent to me over the last 5 years. Llamas.

This is my sloppy, unedited, unorganized list of things that make me smile. Add "Typing this list" to the bottom of my list. Also, I decided my blog needed a little brightening up.

     
Have a beautiful and inspired day.

Sensation: The Great Art To Life.

I love my Mamma!

Well, as you all know, yesterday was Mother's Day. Chris and I spent some wonderful time with both of our families over the weekend (mine on Saturday, his on Sunday.) I was especially thankful for my mom this year. Having been pregnant, and I have a whole new appreciation for what she went through to have children. I also look at the bond I have with her in a new light. I think about how madly in love I fell with my baby in just 13 weeks...how much stronger is her love for me after 25 years? My mom found out she was pregnant with me exactly 30 days after miscarrying her first baby at 13 weeks. I can't help but think about what a miracle it will be when I get pregnant again, how elated Chris and I will be, how precious and how wanted that new baby will be...I was that miracle to my mom and dad. I was the one my mom wanted and needed so badly after losing her first baby. I miss our baby so bad, but I am anxious to meet the baby (or babies) that we are supposed to bring home.

I won't pretend like yesterday was not a difficult day for me. I cried. A lot. I had so many waves of emotions that I just was not prepared for (especially after coming home to flowers and a Mother's Day card from Chris that morning. He is amazing.) I decided to let myself feel what I needed to, it is part of life and part of my healing. I was thankful for the people who acknowledged me, but not hurt by those who didn't. I know it is a confusing and awkward situation. That is why I chose to spend the weekend making sure the mothers in my life felt loved and special. This was their day to celebrate, and my day to remember in my heart. My time to celebrate will come...

A Day Full Of Happy.

Yesterday was such a wonderful day! It was not that anything really significant happened. I even started my day in a long training. I don't know, I just felt good. Chris was happy too. God gave us little bits of good news here and there, pretty rain through the warm sunshine, and a relaxing dinner with friends. We spent the rest of the evening at home with our pup, picking on each other and laughing our butts off.

Nothing better.

Dinner Is Served.

I am going to try very hard to keep this...um...more informational than emotion-driven. I fully understand that a lot of what I have experienced is a direct result of lack of education on miscarriages and pregnancy loss. I know in my heart people are not hurting me intentionally. These actions are coming from people who love me dearly and I love them back. This is my reason for getting this out there. I feel like women (especially where I live) are so scared to speak out and really let people know what they need from them. Therefor, people go on thinking they are helping when they are hurting and the cycle continues.

Here's the deal. Unfortunately, one in four pregnancies end in a miscarriage. Can you believe that?

One in four.
25%.
A quarter of all pregnancies.

So, as much as I hate to say it, this is something that most people will experience in one way or another at some point in time. Whether it is a friend, a family member, a coworker, or yourself going through it, it is bound to happen at some point. (I feel so horrible even typing that...I would never wish this on my worst enemy.) Yet, even with how often this happens, I've noticed the majority of people still have no idea how to react. I'm not saying everyone should know the exact right thing to say and do, because...quite frankly...the situation is different for everybody. However, there have been a couple of things I've experienced over the last month that I think I'm safe to say people can cross off their "How To Treat A Woman After A Miscarriage" list.

• Do not downplay the life that was growing in my body. I realize I only carried my baby for 13 weeks, but I was with my baby 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for those 13 weeks. I talked to my baby. I made plans for my baby. I prayed for my baby. Chris and I planned for over a year for our baby and from the second we found out I was pregnant, that life that we had been waiting for was a reality. Comments like "Well, at least you know you can get pregnant" or "This was God's way of getting rid of a defective baby, you should be thankful" or "At least you weren't further along when it happened" don't do me a whole lot of good. They make me feel like my broken heart is invalid and that is not your place to judge.
• Please, as hard as it is for you, don't avoid me. I have been on both sides of grief. I understand how awkward it can be to reach out to a person who is hurting. We had so many people reach out to us the week of  my surgery (which was incredible and I will be thankful forever), but a month later, nobody knows what to say to me. A couple of days ago, I went to a gathering which happened to be my first big outing since before my loss. I was greeted by a few excited friends that I had not seen in a while, but a lot of the time I was dodged by people who were (in reality) too nervous or (my perception) didn't care enough to even come up and say hello. I don't need you to ask how I'm doing if you aren't comfortable bringing it up. If you are comfortable, go for it. I'm not as fragile as I seem. I just need to know that I didn't lose my friends and social life on top of losing my baby. I want to feel included...loved...normal.
• Unless you are at my baby shower or I have a huge, obviously pregnant belly, don't run up to me screaming to congratulate me and rub my stomach. This also happened at above gathering. Four times. I know it takes a little while for a woman's body to return to "normal" after a miscarriage, but I also know I do not look almost twenty weeks pregnant. This is one of those things where I had to just breathe and remind myself that they were just excited and I know it left them feeling more uncomfortable than me when they found out what happened. However, all of this could be avoided. You don't have to feel uncomfortable when I tell you the belly you are rubbing is empty, and I don't have to feel the sting of a "Congratulations!" that I would have and should have been thrilled about but I'm not.
• I'm begging you, don't judge my pregnancy. My husband and I talked about how we would handle every step of my pregnancy together and we do not regret the decisions we made. This includes our decision to tell people after our 9 week appointment when we heard our baby's heartbeat for a second time. I understand that by a lot of people's standards, this is "early." However, if we had waited until the more "correct" announcement time of 12 weeks, we still would have had to "untell" everyone. Now, everyone is different on this, but I was thankful for the support we had after we lost our baby. I would not have felt right knowing my husband and I were mourning our loss alone when that baby had the right to so much more love. Now, this is just my personal opinion and I respect those of you who chose to do things differently. I just ask for the same respect in return. 

I have a feeling that after posting this I will hear either on this blog or in person something along these lines: "Well you can't tell us not to judge you for telling early, then expect everyone to just act normal around you and be mad that people are treating you weird after the fact. That is why people wait. You can't have your cake and eat it too. Blablablablabla."

To that I say: Yes I can. I have every right to be treated with respect after my loss. I also have the right to mourn as loudly or as quietly as I want to for as long as I need to. I had the right to tell people about my pregnancy and be excited about it. My baby deserved to be known and celebrated and now my baby deserves to be missed and I do not regret that one bit. I will not allow people to make me feel ashamed for feeling as I do. I will also try my hardest to not make the same mistake and judge their actions because obviously I don't know how they are feeling either. I just pray that this will shine some light, not only on my story, but on so many of the stories out there. Like I said earlier, this will not be the last time a lot of you are in this situation (and I'm so sorry for that.) Let's all learn from this together and maybe a little something positive will come out of this pile of negative we've been handed.

To all of you who have been amazing through all of this (you know who you are), thank you. It is appreciated more than you'll ever know.

An Appetizer.

I don't know who wrote this. I found it on a blog I was reading this morning and she didn't know the author either. Anyways, it is something good to chew on until I get around to writing my next post. It goes along with what I'm planning on writing about.

I'm sorry if it sounds harsh, it will all come together soon.

"...And the bonus line that doctors and care providers love to give "It is very common." So are car accidents but you would never put your arm around a car accident victim and say "Don't worry it is very common." You would feel like a right twit. But people don't seem to mind saying it to a woman who has just had a miscarriage. In fact people feel justified because it was not a "real" baby. It was just a bit of blood.

You see a woman connects with that baby from day 1. She imagines a giving birth to a beautiful baby who loves her, and whom she can love. She imagines the bond and the love with her from the moment she finds out she's pregnant. She imagines a 5 year old running around the house, sharing each others lives, sharing each others love. Pregnancy is the promise of a best friend who will never leave you. Its a happiness you can only liken to childhood joy at Christmas time, or being in love for the very first time. Its the most emotionally uplifting time of your life.

When the child dies, whether at 2 weeks of pregnancy or at 18 weeks, that happiness she felt becomes replaced with a crushing loss and heavy sadness. Its not only been taken from her, (often without any answers from medics as to why) but the physical signs of a death have occurred right in her own body. The blood she experiences for almost two weeks is the blood of the death that has occurred in her own body. The death of the best friend.

The blood is frightening and so is the prospect of facing the world again with this devastating loss...This is accompanied with, (Often) crushing feelings of guilt. "What if I hadn't bent over to pick up the spoon that dropped on the floor", "what if I hadn’t stood up for so long at work, "what if I'd had the low fat biscuit instead of the full fat one" etc, etc. The mental hounding is unbearable.

You see the more people express their lack of support, the longer she grieves and the harder the grief is to accept...."