Retreat

I've had the last week off since there was some PTO I had that I was unable to use during my maternity leave (thanks corporate America). It was very frustrating at first, but it's turned out to be a nice time of retreat.

Multiple people told me I would need the time to rest. And I have. I worked 7 days in a row prior to the break and had braxton hicks all weekend (days 6 and 7). No more, though, since being off work and away from all that stress.

I had a really long to-do list, and I've finished most of it. I wouldn't call it nesting because the cleaning and organizing are things I typically do anyway (I can't stand clutter).  Past cleaning, I've tried to get things done that I know will need to be done but may be difficult with a baby. Address labels and stamps for birth announcements. Check. Clear memory off phone to make room for an influx of pictures. Check. Order a gift and buy a card for our donor family. Check. Snacks for nighttime feedings. Check.

I've had plenty of time to try to mentally prepare for L&D and having a newborn without strictly worrying and focusing on the negative what-if's (that's about all I've been able to do up til this point). I'm almost fully believing "I can do it" (give birth).

Excitement still isn't my primary emotion- it hasn't been this whole pregnancy. I imagine once he gets here, though, the fear and loss issues will become more background noise since I will be able to look at him and talk to him. He won't be an abstract concept that feels barely in my grasp.

I hope I'm right. I'm ready to be able to enjoy having a long awaited member added to my family and ready to move past struggles and fear. I'm ready to meet the soul that was meant for us.

To Come This Far

Most everyone worries during pregnancy, from what I've heard and observed. Nervous for labor pains. Hoping the baby is healthy. A little neurotic with nesting.

I had anxiety to begin with. I always have. A lot of my anxiety revolves around being prepared. I took a two day class, bought three books and a cd, and spent numerous hours making flash cards before my professional licensure test. Vacations can be difficult with me. I want to research and plan for everything. Everyone has a vice- control is mine.

This process to have a child, every step of the way, has challenged me. I have had very little control. I took the medicine and ordered top quality donor sperm. Nope. I perfected a profile book that was literally my heart on paper but it mostly sat at the adoption agency collecting dust. Again and again, doors closed.

This challenged me. And my faith. But I believed the right situation would come.

Finally, a pregnancy. Two great betas. Then an ultrasound with a sac and fetal pole. This was it.

But it slipped through my grasp.

Medical complication after complication for myself and for my husband. Nothing we could do but keep hoping the pain and struggles would come to an end. It was a dark cloud for almost a year.

And pregnancy after loss and fertility treatments and medical complications has not been easy. This trauma programs you to expect more loss. One thought can spiral into certain demise.

The anxiety I have managed for so long became a trap. I went to counseling with a wonderful, skilled therapist. I leaned on my faith. It helped but not enough. I couldn't control the intrusive thoughts, the compulsions to have control, the what-if's, the expecting the worst, the constant researching and obsessing over medical issues.

How could I have come this far, only weeks away from (God willing) holding my son in my arms, and be so paralyzed?

It wasn't a decision I made lightly by any means. The mere anxiety surrounding harming my baby I've worked so hard to bring to the earth was enough to stop me in my tracks.

I came to realize that it wasn't going to get better without trying something else. My biggest priority is the health and wellbeing of my baby, but how healthy was he, really, being flooded with stress hormones?

And how would it be for him to get here and all I am able to do is feed him but obsess was it enough, and lay him to sleep but obsess if he was still breathing? I didn't come this far for that to be my baby's beginning to life. All babies are a miracle, but mine is of course the biggest miracle in my own eyes. There has been trauma with his early days, but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know he had a sister I lost. He doesn't know I had bleeds that made me certain he was dead. All he should know right now is that he is very loved by me, his dad, and our entire circle of family and friends. He deserves that, and so do I.

It was time for me to be ready to fully open my heart to the risks of loving someone. There's no reason for me to expect he will die or I will die (I was to that point, and got a will made in case I did die). All of our lives are but a vapor. I can think of so many instances where God has had His hand on my life. God has done the same, already, for my son. I knew that without a shadow of a doubt, but I couldn't live it no matter how hard I tried, if that makes sense.

So, I started this tiny green pill called Z.oloft. It's typically used for depression but can also help with anxiety. It helps the brain have more steady serotonin supply. Apparently I really was trying all I could, because while the medicine is not a cure... it has markedly improved my anxiety. It takes the edge off. I don't feel as hypervigilant. My pulse doesn't race as bad, and my chest doesn't feel as tight. It's easier for me to use my skills from therapy to help reframe or control my anxiety when my brain isn't a constant barrage of worry.

Anxiety is real. It's not a weakness or something you can snap out of or will yourself not to have or even necessarily something you can pray away (you pray with cancer, but you still take the treatments, right?). Anxiety is a common response to infertility and loss. Reproductive trauma. Trauma changes your brain. Therapy can certainly help, but I can say for me it was not enough on its own. And that's okay. I don't want others to feel alone in their struggles, which is why I share this.

I am so grateful to have the resources to address this on this side of pregnancy. I am hopeful for a safe and beautiful birth and a long, slow, peaceful maternity leave with my little guy. I have fought to see his face. He will be here soon enough, and everything about my life will change. I don't deserve this. I'm so very blessed!

Belly

Today I heard I'm "popping out", "really showing now", and obviously "expecting" to strangers, even in my scrubs. I was around 18 weeks when the first stranger asked me when I'm due, but I guess it's pretty obvious to just about everyone, now.

Yeah, my belly is so big I even burnt my stomach on a hot pan when I was draining ground beef last night and just bumped right into it.

He's somewhere around 2.5 pounds and will be about 3x that come August. Eek.

I'm just glad he's growing away. My ribcage is being invaded, but I can't complain. My 11th embryo can punch my guts all he wants.

Next Phase

Yesterday I had my first ultrasound that I wasn't sick with nerves. I think it was ultrasound number 9 of this pregnancy, if I am counting correctly. Since my baby moves on and off throughout the day, I wasn't worried that they'd scan, only to find a still baby with no heartbeat.

It's still a struggle. I'm excited, but it's in my own way. I'm still pretty reserved and am sure I will be that way til he gets here. There's nothing to program your brain for pain and failure like what's happened to get to this point. And I am okay with it. It is what it is. I'm not guilty anymore. I know I love him more than anything, and I take each day as it comes.

The ultrasound itself was great. I drank OJ ahead of time like they suggest, but it did nothing to get him moving. He was curled up contently almost the whole 30 minutes. My placenta is anterior which makes 3D ultrasounds difficult, and he was using it as a pillow! So he didn't do anything cool like suck his thumb or wave. But he smiled and looked like he was praying at one point and mostly looked sweet. There was one shot that looked like he had a legit mustache, so D is banking on him coming out with one so we can get on I.nside E.dition and maybe even retire early.

Which brings me to where I'd normally share a cute picture. Although 3D is still pretty non identifying, at some point I have to decide when to stop sharing. My child won't be on any public social media for multiple reasons, and blogging is included. I feel like this is a good point to stop with the pictures of him. I may still share non identifying pictures when he gets here. I've also decided not to share his name or first initial here, so I need to come up with a good nickname.

This blog has meant so many things to me. It's captured memories I would have already otherwise forgotten. It's connected me to great folks! It has allowed me to share one path towards parenthood and hopefully has encouraged others who ultimately choose embryo adoption. So, I want to continue it. And I want to continue keeping it public so I can share with strangers or acquaintances who have empty arms but may find them full with a little frozen snowflake.

Little Soul

My little 28 week eggplant. 

I go to the doctor tomorrow. I felt disappointed at first when I saw it on the calendar because I don't want to be weighed anymore. I'm still well within what "they" say is healthy, but at a point it just becomes very depressing. 

My momentary disappointment was, of course, replaced by the compulsion to be checked on. It's comforting to pee in the cup and get my stomach measured and get a Doppler. The fear of loss never goes away, and any reassurance is much appreciated. 

It's weird to be to this point. It's more real to picture I'll finally be a parent. Parenthood has been theoretical for so long, and part of me thought it may never actually happen. I hoped it would, and I didn't want to give up. But nothing would work out, and I was just so exhausted.

I can't get over how blessed I am to have this little soul on the way to my world. 

Failure

I never fail anything, but I FAILED my one hour glucose test.

Well I guess I had a FAILED transfer, too. 

But really. I've never made a C in my whole life. I took finals in high school when I didn't have to, just to raise my grade. I'm an overachiever. I'm not supposed to fail things! 

I'll have the fun experience Monday of fasting, drinking a bigger bottle of flat sprite, and having four blood draws over 3 hours. 

If that doesn't give me enough to fret about I got a letter in the mail this afternoon from my health insurance about high risk pregnancy case management. What? Who said I'm high risk? Do they send these out to every pregnant person? Is it just because I've been in the ER twice while pregnant? Do I have risk factors I'm not aware of?  And why am I opening the letter on a Friday afternoon one minute before they close? Great. Add that to my anxiety pile. 

Due

Sunday was my due date.

4/5/15.

Sadness and wondering can coexist with gratefulness and hope. 

My current baby doesn't replace my first baby. I was having a girl with one donor family. Now a boy with another. 

It's the way it's meant to be. I don't know that it's good or bad. It's just a loss and a totally different reality. There are reasons I don't know. I don't personally believe she was too perfect for earth or that God needed her. I'm not sure why things happened the way they did. 

But I'm here. And I believe despite the painful realities, God has a plan for my life. And He is still good to me. 

Acceptance. 

I will admit, though, it is easier to swallow when the baby I have now is jerking around and a week from viability. 

Hope. 

Her life still means something to me. We were together a month and a half. I went through things people shouldn't have to in order to be pregnant with her. I honored her memory with a gift to St Jude, and two of my family members honored her with a gift to Make a Wish. Maybe someone else's child can make memories with their family on her account, since she never got to. 

Sorrow and joy. 

Hope & Healing

I still don't like ultrasounds. I wish I could get sedation and wake up and know the results. It's pretty sad. I alternate between laying as stiff as possible on the table and wishing I could dart off the table. The pressure is too much.

But I survived, and thank God the anatomy scan couldn't have been better.

Is there a heartbeat? Yes, I see the flicker. Obstacle passed. He's still alive. Whew.

"How's my cervix?" Oh, you think it's strange I'm asking cervix length and know that 4.2 is more than sufficient? I have no real reason to know or care. I'm just that paranoid. And now I have one less thing to worry about... until the next ultrasound, anyway.

Back to the heart. Yep, four chambers (which by the way, I was not expecting to see the heart is such detail- it was pretty cool). Check.

The spine has perfect detail. Each. Little. Vertebrae. Check.

The kidneys are both there. The bladder is there. It empties and fills back up during the scan. The stomach is there and on the correct side (I thought it would need to be in the middle) and interestingly was full of amniotic fluid. Check. Check. Check.

The head measures correctly. Check.

The arms and legs measure correctly. Actually, the legs are quite long. Who in the family is tall? "He gets that from his genetic dad". So check, check.

Baby boy did a few waves. Turned over and back again. Stretched his feet up to his face. Got complimented on his perfect head shape and how well behaved he was for the measurements. Thankfully his aunt was there to coo at him and help him feel loved in that moment.

Now.... it all feels like a dream. My stomach is getting bigger because there is a real, live, growing baby in there. Weird.

Maybe this really will work. Maybe this is where I was meant to be. He must be who I have been waiting for.

Not Just Being

It hasn't been boring anymore.

The pregnancy is pleasingly boring. But as soon as I decided to speak boredom in my last post, D was admitted to the hospital the next day. More complications from his foot surgery. The doctor is being extra aggressive this time so hopefully his foot can heal up once and for ALL.

If this had to happen, the timing was relatively good. I'm not sick. My SCH appears to be gone. Our baby is just along for the ride. I'd rather not spend PTO at the hospital, but I've been able to read and prop my feet up and rest. I guess this is our very expensive babymoon. 

I've been pushed out of my comfort zone as far as walking. I haven't overdone anything, but I've walked more in the past several days than the past months, which feels great! So I know my body can handle it. 

I haven't had much time to dwell on my anatomy scan later this week. Which is a good thing. I can't change the results so there's really no point in worrying about it. But, this pregnancy still feels too good to be true. I'm waiting for the "catch". 

Just Being

No news is good news. I am enjoying the boringness of just being.

My stomach is finally getting to a point I think it looks more pregnant than chubby. It hurts on the sides quite a bit, but I know it's just stretching, so it's not concerning. I can lift more than 5 pounds again. I can walk the stairs at work again. My hips throb occasionally, and I am SO relieved I am done with the shots. I can't imagine ever having to do them again. I wonder how I got through all that.

I've arrived to 19 weeks. I never thought this would happen. 

Honoring the Loss

Our due date would have been in exactly a month.

In almost exactly five months, I should be meeting my son. I'm so incredibly blessed. I realize the magnitude that I can say this. My heart breaks for others who are waiting to be able to experience this expectation.

It's strange for those two ideas to mingle together in my heart and mind.

Loss and blessing.

What could have been. What (we hope) will be.

I don't have to be sad to honor the loss. I can be sad. But that's not the only appropriate way to feel. I'm trying to figure out what that means for me. I don't really even know how I feel.

I do know I want to remember my daughter. I'm not sure how that looks in this next season.

Why Me,Part 2

Yeah, it may be a little spring-ish for a late summer newborn, but I think this one may be baby's take home outfit. xoxo

I don't take any milestone or step on this journey for granted. My excitement might not be very evident to the outsider eye, but my heart has the deepest gratitude I could imagine. I don't think I love my baby any more than any other mom, but the love I have is certainly different. It's raw. It stops me in my tracks. I'm still in shock. I feel undeserving. A hole in my heart is being patched up and filled. 

Some days I question, "Why me?"  And not the question I've asked out of hurt. Not the why can't I have one single child. The same question asked in a new way. Why has my prayer been answered? There are many others still waiting on their child. Several people I hold very closely to me. It hurts me to know they can't fulfill their longing. 

It pains me to be on either side of this journey. 

16 Weeks Check In

Just a little check in...

To answer my most frequently asked question of late, no, we don't have a name yet. We didn't think too hard about names until we found out what we were having (why agonize over two names when we will probably never need one of them?)... now it's just hard finding the right name that goes well with our last name, is easy to spell, is gender specific, translates well to adulthood, and is not common but not weird in a small Southern town. Suggestions welcome! :)

Rant- I've gotten multiple times that since we're having a boy, maybe next time we will have a girl. Ahhh. Although we have two embryos left, at this point it's pretty unlikely in my mind that we will be the ones to transfer them for a multitude of reasons. Our family can be complete with one child, I think, and without a girl if that's how it pans out. And besides, we already had a girl. She just didn't make it to the earth. Of course, we reserve the right to change our minds (and we are paying to store the embryos until after the birth and can fully decide)... it's just frustrating to hear this comment.  

Well, it's been 8 weeks since I did one of these, so I guess it's time to give an update on all my ailments- haha!

Baby's size: Avocado

Total weight gain: Last week I was one pound below pre-estrace weight. If I had to guess, I've gained at least a pound or two this week. I feel huge!

Sleep: Tired earlier in the evening and waking up early- hello 5 AM.

Best moment of last week: Seeing our baby on the ultrasound and finding out we are having a boy! And giving the news to our family.

Miss anything: Being able to wear normal scrubs, being able to exercise (I say it loosely- walking on my lunch break and doing pilates at home)

Food cravings: Pizza, any fruit, coffee cake, cinnamon rolls, an ice cold Diet Dr Pepper in a 20 oz bottle (haven't had any since before the transfer but I keep thinking about it- the sound of the lid coming off, the mist coming up from the bottle, the burning and sweetness on my tongue....)

Anything that makes you sick or queasy: As long as I eat pretty regularly, I feel okay. I haven't ventured back to chicken yet but thought today that Z.axby's sounded kind of good- too bad they were closed due to weather, so I couldn't test out my thoughts. I still can't drink carbonation, and I am hesitant around fried foods (my heartburn is totally gone since I stopped the progesterone, but it's in the head).

Looking forward to: Going to the doctor next week- I never knew I would be excited about the doctor! I just want to make sure everything is okay. I know he is growing and I don't have any more bleeding (knock on ten piles of wood). But I don't know that my thyroid, blood pressure, blood sugars, cervix length, and a multitude of other stressors are what they should be. I'm constantly on edge.

The internet says: He is 4.5 inches (feels way bigger) and is getting hair, lashes, and taste buds. He also may be able to start hearing the world around him soon, too.

Other milestones: I haven't thrown up in about 2 weeks! Wohoo!!! I've cleaned a bunch of junk out of the nursery- we've had it set up for over 2 years since we were doing foster care and had accumulated way too much stuff. And, I got back into some counseling to help with my anxiety. Anxiety isn't the enemy. It is my body protecting itself (physically and emotionally). I knew my emotions had been through the ringer but really hadn't stopped to think just all my body has been though in less than a year- all the medication and hormones and appointments and transfers and pregnancy and surgeries. I know most of my anxiety stems from some of the traumatic things that have happened a long the way, so luckily I am finding a healthy and effective way to process them.

I Can't Explain

My belly gets a little bigger every day. At first it just looked wider, but now the bump is moving up and is pretty noticeable when I'm not in scrubs. Although, I have to admit that a frequent flier patient at my work asked if I was still exercising and eating healthy, so I guess people who don't know are starting to wonder. I still haven't gained any weight, so I guess it's just my insides getting pushed out.

I had to seek out some maternity underwear due to the aforementioned growth. I was angry, yes angry, that Target didn't have any. I don't want to buy regular a size up. They will roll down in the front and sag in the back, and my current ones leave a line in my belly. What the heck society. Am I the only one who sees this need? 

And that irritation was because I had to, then, go to Motherhood Maternity. I tried their website, but the sizing wasn't clear. I went, and I felt like an imposter there. I'm just as pregnant as any other shopper there, but I felt like I didn't belong, and I rushed in and out. 

It's been about three weeks since my last ultrasound, and by the time we go to the specialty shop to get the big sex reveal on Friday, it will have been almost four weeks. 

I can't explain why I feel the way I do. Other than the night I bled a ton, I never think "what if the baby's heart has stopped?"... Other than when I think about the next ultrasound. My trigger. I start to plan it out in my head. Would the tech notice right away? The baby wouldn't be moving, so I'd notice right away. What would the tech say? Why did I schedule the scan on a Friday afternoon? How will I reach my OB, then? 

These thought are very intrusive. They invade my brain like I imagine a tumor can, weaving in and getting stuck there. 

Why can't I be happy? Why can't I be more excited? I get to see my baby. I will have a video of the movement and lots of new pictures. We can really start planning once we know "boy or girl". But I'm dragging my feet because I don't want bad news. 

I am blessed. God is with me. He has helped me get to this point. I don't understand every "why", but I still trust Him. 

However, those things don't negate my pain and fears. I live in a broken world. Each day is an opportunity to unbury myself and try to heal. 

3.5 years of waiting, the isolation, the home studies, the lost faith in the foster care system, the rejection in adoption situations, the failed IUIs, the failed IVF transfer, the blighted ovum, the miscarriage, the painful realities of medical interventions I fear whether it be the 100s of shots or the two d&c's, the bright red blood at a time you aren't supposed to bleed- it all adds up. It is a heavy weight, much too heavy to dispose of in the amount of time I've had. 

And it will still be there when I deliver. My hope is that it will be much less heavy and won't take away in my ability to enjoy my biggest blessing, this creature I have sought after and fought for. 

Pregnancy is normally a time to get things ready. Thank God we have a nursery already, because it's my heart I need to get ready. 

My Days

Everyone says the second trimester brings big changes, and I'll agree. I still have queasiness issues, gagging, and occasional throwing up, but my aversions and all day nausea if I don't eat every few hours has faded. I'm still tired, but I'm not a complete zombie by 5:30 PM.

I thought it was too soon to be getting maternity scrubs, but my normally loose, stretchy pants are getting tight. I asked the girl at the store when people normally bought them, and she was kind to say the lady she helped the other day was 3 months. So I don't feel as bad. I'm glad I went when I did because they were out of my size and it takes 1.5 weeks for them to come in. At the rate I'm going I will be desperate for a larger size by then. :) 

8 more days til we find out if we're having a boy or girl. Things will get more real, I think. 

I'm working through my anxiety. It's been a struggle in the past few weeks. I think for so many weeks I was in survival mode, just trying to survive shots and ultrasounds and holding my breath til I saw a heartbeat each time. It's caught up with me now. The bleed has pushed me to my limits and the incident last week brought me back to the place of wondering if I would ever be a parent. 

Fear, doubt, and guilt grip me. I've already had anxiety and panic attacks in the past that I've been able to manage for the most part, but I'm getting some direction now. 

Why

One of my worst fears happened in the Walgreens bathroom last night.

I looked down and saw red. Not spots. Not brown. Just pure, bright red. Everywhere. 

Why? 

I drove to the ER in a fog and walked in, flinching as I was forced to say, "I'm 13 weeks, and I started bleeding really bad" through heavy tears/sobs/weeping. 

(My due date has been moved up since the baby has been measuring three days ahead so I was able to"skip" half of week 12 and breeze right over to week 13- hello second trimester!... In case anyone was wondering where 13 weeks came from).

Go to exam room. Wait. Cry. Meet my nurse who I happen to know, and she sweetly prays over us. Get blood drawn. Wait. Cry. Get pelvic exam. Have the doctor tell me there was no tissue down there so it "isn't a confirmed miscarriage". Get really annoyed at that statement- they could have done a Doppler when I walked in to let me know, but instead they're working backwards- tissue wasn't even on my radar, but now it is. D says she was just trying to be comforting, but I'm not comforted. Wait. Get an ultrasound. I'm very spolied by having so many RE scans. Techs can't diagnose so they normally don't talk, but they do at the RE. They don't other places. This tech knows I'm dying (it's been probably an hour and half and I still don't know if the baby is even alive), so he turns up the sound of the heartbeat. He says he won't do that for just anyone. Wait, wait, wait for the ultrasound to be next in some que for a random radiologist to read it. 

Finally the doctor comes in and says I do have another SCH which is likely the culprit. The growth is on track at 13w1d. The heartrate is in the 150's. I need to be on pelvic rest until I can see the OB tomorrow. 

Which is now today. More waiting. Trying not to worry. 

Dreading Dopplers

At 12.5 weeks I had my first official OB appointment today. It's ridiculous to me. It's one of my biggest annoyances in this process- that bureaucracy keep my anxious (rightfully so) self from a doctor. It is compounded by being under the care of a doctor across the state so I'm never fully looked at- just bloodwork here and an ultrasound there.

So I went and went with panic I tried to squash. My bleeding is back to how it first was when I was diagnosed with the SCH. Why is it back when my 9 week ultrasound measured it at mere millimeters? Then this morning I had an incident that felt just like water breaking. WTF. 

The nurse practitioner- because I still can't see the OB(!!!)- wasn't concerned with any of it. I know it's not likely to be leaking amniotic fluid at this point but it's still a worry. She swears it's normal. That just doesn't seem right. 

Instead of an ultrasound to check the bleed and check on my fluid, because it makes sense to me, I got a Doppler. My first one. They shouldn't do them on people like me. I was frozen while she wanted all around my lower belly. Wanded. Nothing. Wanded. Nothing. This is pure torture. 

By the time she found the heartbeat, I could only be relieved. No joy. No excitement. Just trying to pick my stomach up off the ground it had sunk so low. I've felt this way in every ultrasound, too. I just want to get through them and know everything is okay. I wish I could coo like the nurse or tech, but I can't. I don't know when the fear will stop. I try to not give into it, but I feel traumatized, just waiting to hear that this baby lost its heartbeat, too. 

For today I'm pregnant. My baby had a heartbeat this morning. I'm taking as best care of us as I know how, and that's all I can do. 

Week Ten Progress

I'm curious to see the results of my bloodwork on Wednesday. Will my progesterone and estrogen be sustained enough to continue weaning?

I feel like my progesterone levels must be lower because I haven't been feeling quite as short of breath and have had fewer palpations.

Week ten is different than the previous couple of weeks. I'm having fewer food adversions and a better appetite yet more nausea. I've thrown up twice in three days. Not as bad as many people, but still notable. I'm not annoyed because it's only a side effect of what I want. 

Slowly, I feel more connected to the baby. I think the connection is unique when you do a transfer, when you see them from the very beginning, but it's difficult after a loss. I'm finally to the point where I feel I have almost a normal pregnancy and the same (low) chance of miscarriage as everyone else who makes it to this point. 

It's taken almost a month (since we saw the heartbeat) to really sink in. This could be it. We could actually be parents. 

2015

Goodbye 2014, hello 2015.

I had a mixture of feelings as I watched the NYE ball drop on TV and the rain of confetti that followed. 

My primary feeling was a bit of sadness. It came out of no where, starting only as the TV screen showed the countdown in seconds. 

2014 has been the most challenging year of my life but I still won't say it was a "bad" year. 

But I did have a really big loss and it stings to close a chapter on my first baby. I'm truly joyful about my current pregnancy, which is such a blessing, yet it pains me to say goodbye to my other one. I feel like I'm leaving her behind with the change in year. 

Grief is such an unexpected, unexplainable, unpredictable, fickle thing. 

So for today my heart mingles with bursting hope and solemn sadness. 

I start week 9 tomorrow. Week 8 has been the physically hardest. I've been the most tired and most nauseous. I've thrown up twice this week (which is relatively not bad for what it could be). I wonder what next week will bring. I'm hoping another good ultrasound, good bloodwork (baseline hormone levels so I can start weaning off these meds in the next bit), and getting an appointment on the books with my OB (which has been a challenge... Have sex, pee on a test and you get right in but there's extra steps to take with being under the care of a specialist, all of which are accentuated with the holidays and three three involved offices [clinic, monitoring clinic, OB] being periodically closed). 

Open Wounds

I didn't know how it would be to be pregnant after a loss. I guess I figured I'd have a lot more anxiety about everything. Despite no answers in the genetic testing, I still believe the miscarriage was from something chromosomal. Maybe that helps keep this pregnancy somewhat in perspective. There was nothing I could do. It was out of my control. So there is nothing I can do to hurt or help this pregnancy either, outside taking my medication as ordered. And now that I've seen a healthy heartbeat at 7 weeks, science says I have less than a 5% chance of a miscarriage.

While I have not felt overwhelmingly anxious, I have not felt overwhelmingly anything... except perhaps hesitation. I don't want to make too many plans yet. I don't want to get too excited yet. My heart is still broken. The true healing I've had since August has been replaced with open wounds. They will heal up again, as they did before, but it will take time.

Many people don't have dozens of people know the moment they may become pregnant or early on when they pee on a stick or get a beta. So I think that is the heart of my current difficulties. Openness in our journey has been a blessing in many ways, but in this situation, it makes things difficult sometimes, too.

So many people are rooting for us, but rabid excitement is not what I need right now. Prayers, sweet comments, affirmations- yes, those all help immensely. I love the hugs, congratulations, and eager expectation. But (what seems to me) flippant, pure joy as if everything is "done deal" and there will be a baby here in August? Statements like I "just need to think positive"? Hoping for the best is fine and dandy til it didn't work for you. Those words feel like a knife stabbing me.

Stabbing me over and over as I replay all the positivity and hope I had for my last pregnancy and how the end result was the death of my baby before I met her. No matter how bad I wished and wanted her to live, her heart stopped beating. When people fail to see this huge blessing we're currently waiting for in the lens of what we've been through, it's very hurtful. I don't know if I'm half crazy, but it makes me feel defensive for my first baby. What about her? Why did she die? Was I not positive enough? (I know the answer is no, but those questions run through my mind like a raging river when I feel bombarded by people I suppose just outside the understanding of how a miscarriage taints your perspective).

Okay, I feel like maybe I complain too much about the genuinely well intended statements people have made throughout this journey. And I know no one around me means what I interpret. And none of this is directed at any one person. The majority of people in my life bring nothing but blessing in this season of very mixed feelings. So if you are reading, I am certain the support you give me is appreciated. Thank you.

I look forward to a day when this pain will settle into the background, and I can be elated. When I can give this baby the adoration and anticipation he or she deserves. When my joy as a mother can exceed the joy of those around me. But I'm just not there yet.