Not again

Pretty sure I'm having my second miscarriage in a row. Ok I'm positive, but just haven't heard the doctors come right out and say it specifically. I was 1 day shy of 5 weeks pregnant- super early I know. Some may say well this happens to a lot of women who don't even know they're pregnant. It's true. But I knew I was pregnant. I tested on Friday morning and it was positive. I am RH negative so I pretty much have to know otherwise my body can build up antibodies to fight off babies (although apparently my body is already fighting them off anyway).

I just can't describe the sadness that fills my body and soul right now. The same day I found out I was pregnant one of my friends texted me to tell me she had a dream I was pregnant with a boy. When I miscarried in November another friend and my sister both dreamt I was pregnant with a girl. None of them knew I was pregnant. It's as if God was sending them a signal of my impending future. Despite this for some reason I was willing this to be different. I am one of the most superstitious people around, but this time I wasn't going to buy into it. I was prepared to tell everyone. I pulled out my pregnancy pillow. I was not going to let my body have another miscarriage. But for some reason it didn't listen. I just don't know how we can create such a beautiful, smart, loving child on the first try and have everything go perfectly and now this.

Our Loss

On Monday, November 16th, the day our son turned 1 1/2 years old, we suffered the greatest loss we have ever experienced. I had been 6 weeks pregnant with what we believed to be our second child; our first daughter. We had decided to wait to tell our family and friends until Thanksgiving. We made a cute shirt for our son to wear that said, "I'm going to be a big brother!" We had planned on having him wear it to Thanksgiving dinner. We had planned on so many things. After much debate, we decided having our children 2 years apart would be perfect and that an early summer baby was great because then I'd have off the summer and the first part of the school year for a total of 5 months at home with my kids. We had basically chosen her name; Taylor. I had planned out her nursery in my mind. We had not even officially been to the doctor, but for some reason we just knew she was a girl. My sister and best friend, who did not even know I was pregnant, both had dreams about me having a girl, and that just solidified what we already knew in our hearts.

Well, all those perfect plans ended on Monday night when I started experiencing menstrual-like cramps. I knew something was wrong. I feared for the worse, but prayed nonetheless and tried to continue our evening activities as if it would all be ok. After putting our son to bed, I called the doctor and while I was on the phone began to bleed. This was not just any old blood, but blood mixed with the remains of my child. If you have never experienced this, there are not even words to describe the pain and heartbreak that we have been going through. I drove myself to the hospital while my husband took care of our son. At the hospital I openly laid myself down on benches surrounded by sick people, and all the while experienced pains like that of early labor, crying, bleeding, heart-broken. When I went back to get my initial check-in with the nurse, he had the nerve to say, well could you be pregnant. "Well yes, I was anyway." I replied. His response, "Well what might have caused you not to be anymore?" I wanted to punch him, pull his stupid ears off of his head and spit in his face. "How the fuck should I know?!" as I am bent over in intense pain and anguish.

Our neighbors went to our house to watch our son so my husband could be with me. He arrived just as I was being brought into the ER room. After exams, needles, ultrasounds, etc. it was undetermined if I was actually having a miscarriage or if I had an ectopic pregnancy. I was admitted for the night, my first night away from my son, to be watched and retested in the morning.

As the nurse wheeled me to my room for the night, I kept seeing signs for labor and delivery. I was supposed to be going there in July, not now. It was like whips slapping my face. When I was wheeled into my room the first thing I saw was a picture of a baby, directly in front of my hospital bed, and promoting breastfeeding. My heart ached. How could they be so insensitive? Yes this was the mother, baby, and women wing of the hospital, but I could not have been the first woman admitted for a loss.

As I laid in my bed, crying, empty, I could not help but feel guilty. My initial thought was, why was God punishing me? But the more I have thought about it the more I am realizing he was trying to teach me. Which lessons?- Mostly to be grateful for my husband, who I have not valued as I should have the past few months. -To stop trying to control everything. -To appreciate everybody and everything that I have. I am grateful for the opening of my eyes, but my heart still hurts, for it was not my baby's fault that I was so selfish and ungrateful. I feel like she was sacrificed because of my foolishness. Will this wound ever heal? Will God ever give us another child? Will my daughter forgive me in heaven?

I was sent home on Tuesday morning after another ultrasound and blood test confirmed I was experiencing a miscarriage. I am grateful it was not an ectopic pregnancy. Mostly I am grateful that my husband is my rock; forgiving, understanding, loving, and forever my partner. I am grateful I have a perfect 18 month old son at home, who is everything a mother could want in a child. I am grateful for my family who has helped us through this grief and pain. And I am grateful that God is grace and always present.

-Mama K

Bye Bye Breastfeeding

So Trouble is officially weaned from the breast. It's been quite the experience I'll tell you. It started with complete and utter sadness and worry, but once I gave myself permission to take it slow, it became much more natural. He is doing great and is sleeping better at night too! I have the overwhelming sense of freedom and it's mostly guilt free. I haven't felt this way in a while. I LOVED breastfeeding and will do it again for sure, but I will admit that it's nice not feeling that I have to be so tied down. I'm enjoying staying out later with neighborhood friends, having a few drinks here and there, and even want to go out with some girlfriends for once! It's been ages since I've done that, and I better do it soon, because despite this joyful freedom, I'm pretty ready to get pregnant again and then it'll be bye bye freedom again for at least another couple years!
-Mama K

I think I just found the secret of life...

Sassy has started saying "Mama, me happy!" and "me love mama!" Those have got to be the two best sentences ever uttered. She's so sweet and adorable when she says these things. But what strikes me the most is how genuine she is when she says it. Sometimes she says it when we are doing something special, out to a fun lunch with "pink milkshakes," and its no surprise that she's having a good time. But more often than not, she says it when we're just sitting at home sharing a bowl of fruit (or something equally mundane). The point is, that my daughter is happy and that is the most important thing. I may be exhausted, money may be tight, the bills are looming and and she needs a new (insert clothing outgrown ridiculously quickly); but none of that matters. Because she is happy and is open and free with her emotions. So all is right with my world.

Ahhh!

My daughter has just recently turned the big 0-2. The good news is that she ate the cake rather than mashing it into her hair and clothing. The not-so-good news is that my little baby is becoming a child and there's no stopping it.

In the beginning, my only real concern was keeping the child healthy with diet, exercise, hygiene and, you know, making sure she was hitting all those milestones. Now that she's verbally and cognitively capable of dealing with complex situations, I need to release the maternal floodgates of guidance! In Western culture, there are so many options in nearly every facet of life and it can really be confusing to someone who's just jumping in the game and I need to be there to make sure she's on the right path in life!

.... but there's a problem.

Religion, Society, Politics, Education and Media are all overwhelming and abstract concepts on which even I don't fully know where to stand. How do I provide my children with confident views of the world when I don't know what the heck I'm doing? Do I just fake it? Pick a way of life and bam, that's the way it is? Do I share my free-thinking, head-shaking, fist-pumping, "I don't know" mantra wailing, weeble-wobble mode of thought knowing that, like for me, it will create countless nights of why-wondering weakness and the loss of respect?

I mean, I'll have to agree that being an agnostic is like being an atheist without balls.

However, going through life with a neutered mind is a lot safer, and I'll have to say wiser, than bursting through it blindly with macho ego and stubborn habits. Be that as it may, I can't help but be reminded of Dylan Thomas's Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night and feel that if my children will not go gentle into that good night, then perhaps they shouldn't go gentle through the day either! So, which would make life more exciting and enjoyable? Not knowing what the hell you're doing and perhaps never finding out what's right or knowing exactly what you're doing with the possibility of being completely wrong? Does it even matter? Obviously there are families who live a million different ways and experience much joy.

I would kind of like her to be a free-thinker like me, but the cynicism can be a little much sometimes. Perhaps what I will focus on with my children is compassion. They should really teach that in school, like Ellen said on her show. History, English, Math, Science, Compassion. That would be nice, wouldn't it? In the meantime, it will all be on me and the husband to show the kiddos what it's all about, or at least what we know about it. I want my kids to grow up and say that from their parents they learned compassion, peace, tolerance, joy, love and an appreciation for clubhouse sandwiches.

That doesn't sound too difficult! I can do it! Yeah! Er.. Hmm. It's going to take a lot of work. Baby steps. Pretty sure I can get the ball rolling with that appreciation for clubhouse sandwiches at any rate... and that will consequently make her joyous!

Hey, it's a start!

Separation Anxiety

I'm apologizing in advance the rambling and disorganization that will likely follow. I'm a bit emotional today. So first off, we are in the process of weaning Trouble. Why? Well mainly because now that he is a year old he technically does not need breastmilk anymore and there is a glimmer of hope or a prayer at least, that maybe once he stops nursing he will actually sleep at night. Reason number 2, Hubby is pushing it a little. I don't know why, but he is. So thus far we have cut back to morning, bedtime, and two middle of the night nursing sessions. No more bottles while I am at work, which means I don't have to pump anymore. You'd think I'd be shouting hooray for that, but I almost burst into tears on Friday during my last pumping session. I don't know why. I'm beginning to think that I'm having post-partum depression a year late. So today was my first day with Trouble where I had to go all day without nursing him. He has been fine the past 2 weeks while I'm at work without his bottles (according to Hubby and the nanny), and this morning he was fine too. But this afternoon, he wanted milk. It was tough to not nurse. He won't drink cow's milk. I'm really hoping it will grow on him because that would make it so much easier. So juice and water have to substitute and they aren't quite the same. Plus my boobs felt huge today. And it makes me sad that they are gradually going to produce less and less and then just become loose, ugly, useless balloons, until I have my next baby. To make matters worse, I don't see an end in sight. I honestly don't believe he is going to sleep better once he is completely weaned. I don't think I'll ever sleep again. He used to fall asleep on his own (and he still does for naps), but now he just wants to be rocked to sleep and Hubby can't ever get him to go back to sleep, so how is he ever going to learn not to nurse at night unless I just let him cry and cry and cry. I don't want to do that. I can't. I keep thinking: Treat others the way you want to be treated. I wouldn't want to cry myself to sleep. I wouldn't want to be calling for my mom and have her just never come until it was convenient for her (i.e. the morning). Letting him cry seems like the easy way out. I don't take the easy way out. I have to be the best and do everything the best, but I'm at a loss. Why won't he sleep? And now, the last time I do actually nurse him, which I imagine might be in less than a month, it'll be in the middle of the night. And I bet I'll have to just say, no. I'll have to just sit in my bedroom and say, :"No I am not going in there to nurse him." Yeah Hubby can go in to try and comfort him, but I bet it won't work. I bet he'll still cry and cry and yell "MAMA!" It makes me wonder if he's not ready to wean. But if not now then when? When I'm so exhausted that I can't function anymore? When he has to because there is another baby I have to nurse (who mind you will likely leave me just as exhausted)?

And now for my second point (or whatever number I'm on). Separation Anxiety. Yes, Trouble is likely dealing with this again since he won't fall asleep on his own anymore. But I'm the one who is really dealing with it. I think I've left him with a sitter maybe 3 times by choice since he's been born. Yes I work full time so I have to leave him for that, but that doesn't really count because I have to. And because I have to leave him so much for work I never want to leave him any other time. Hubby and I rarely get any alone time because I won't go. But what's the point? I have nurse Trouble before he goes to bed and then I have to get home in time before he wakes up again to nurse. It used to be that I didn't want a sitter to have to give him a bottle because then I'd have to pump, but now he's done with bottles, so I don't even have that option.

I just want him to sleep. To peacefully sleep. Without crying. Without waking (until morning of course). I want to feel like I can have a little freedom. I want the guilt to go away.

Un-Healthy : (

Its amazing how we can take our health for granted. Its also amazing how much scarier it is when your child gets sick than when anyone else in the universe gets sick. I have been completely unprepared how helpless I would feel when the health of my child was in question. Handsome is our high need child, and has been to the pediatrician more times than Sassy but its always been a minor issue and nothing to worry about. But this time we found a lump. Those are words that you never want to hear or say; nothing good can possibly come from them. I had to take my precious little man to the ER and for hours of testing and we still know nothing. Well, that's not entirely true, we know its not anything that will require emergency surgery. They've sent us home for the weekend and we will try for more answers next week. He's happy and doesn't seem to be in any pain, so that is good.

But I can not stop my mind from reeling with the possibilities of what could be wrong with him. I am overwhelmed with thoughts; I worry that he'll need more tests and procedures that will be painful (I'm not even thrilled with the idea of uncomfortable). I worry that those tests will result in a surgery, and I have about a million worries about surgery. I worry that there could be permanent damage done to him. I feel guilty because I can't fix it. I feel guilty because I wonder if something I did (or didn't do) while I was pregnant caused this to happen to him. I worry about the cost of all of this medical care. I worry we didn't find it in time. I hate all of the waiting.

And then on the other hand I am thankful that we have good insurance and are able to take him to the best pediatricians and hospitals. I am thankful that we found the lump. I am thankful that he's otherwise healthy and that Sassy is healthy. I'm thankful that this is the first time we've had to deal with anything like this. I am thankful that he didn't need emergency surgery. I am thankful that he isn't in any pain. And I am thankful for all of the friends and family we have to lean on during times like this; people that I tend to forget care so much for me and my little family.

With any luck this will just be a reminder from the universe of our mortality and a gentle nudge toward living a more full and gracious life.

Fingers crossed!
T