Tuesday, August 30, 2016

And here we are.

I guess if we get anything from this whole situation, at least it ignited my desire to write once again.

For two years I have told myself that I don't have the time, but here I am. Three posts, three days. It's amazing what you can accomplish when it is a priority to you.

Let's talk about life now. And how we got here.

It's been a long time after all, I'm sure you need to be caught up.

So...

John is almost 2 1/2. He's amazing. He is equal parts sweet, funny, crazy, insane, brave, sensitive, smart, caring, etc. etc. etc. I know I'm his mom, but he's pretty much the most exquisite creature I've ever met. I mean, don't get me wrong. There's days that he makes me want to run for the hills, but he's awesome.

Work is ridiculous. I mean, I used to love my job. Who can say that? I loved my job. My boss was amazing. I loved my work. My coworkers were cool. It was great. Then some bullshit went down, my boss switched positions, I got passed over for a promotion, and my new boss was a questionable choice. So yeah...that's been a living hell, BUT ya know, it pays the bills. SO, I keep going in and refrain from screaming.

Alex got the answer to all of our prayers. A new job. He was at his old job for over 8 years. It was time to move on. He had done all that he could do there. He hadn't had a raise in over 8 years. He was killing himself every day and he worked Saturdays. It was rough. He's always worked Saturday, longer than I've known him. But, it was getting increasingly hard with John. Sometimes I just wished that we could be a normal family on the weekends. But it was just a constant battle of trying to fit in a week of bullshit into a Sunday. Family time, Grandparent visits, errands, etc. It was tough.

He finally got the opportunity for an absolutely amazing job. We were so blessed that this came to us. He worked his ass of to make sure that he had everything that he could to help him get it and he did. We are so excited. He finished up his old job this week and he took a week and a half before he starts his new one. He gets out at 3:30 every day (instead of 5:30-6:00 like he used to). Not Saturdays (unless he wants to). Holidays. Time Off. Sick time. Pension. Amazing benefits. It's amazing.

So, imagine our surprise when everything seemed to fall into place. We always talked about how it would be impossible to have two children with his schedule. It was really hard to have so much time with John by myself. To have the main responsibility for needing to get him every day, or if he was sick, or getting everything he needs done. Now, Alex and I will both have a considerable amount of time with all of us together. It's just a whole different world.

And then everything fell into place. New job. New Baby. What a happily ever after.

Until it wasn't.

I'm feeling a bit...angrier today. I'm trying not to be because I know that it is such a long dark road. And I know that once you go down that road, it is SO hard to get off of it. But, it's hard. It's so hard. It was such an ugly place to be in. I just don't want to be there again. So I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

I keep asking, "why", but I know that I will never know the answer.

I have an appointment with my doctor next week. Apparently more than one miscarriage is a "thing". Yeah... a "thing". So, that's fun. I don't honestly think that they will find anything, which will be frustrating in its own way, but at least we'll know.

I'm not sure what else to write. I think anything else at this point will be forced. But that's where we are. Life was looking up. Until it wasn't.

And here we are. 

Monday, August 29, 2016

Again...

I woke up this morning a little bit in disbelief that I am here again.

My head has been pounding for two days. I can't figure out if it is from the crying and stress or if it is from the drop in hormone levels. Dr. Google suggested I drink more water, which I did. I waited until the appropriate time and switched my beverage of choice to something with a little more kick.

Ahh the upside of miscarriages, all the wine you can drink.

It's hard to wrap my head around my "new normal". I was just getting into remembering that I was pregnant and that there were things that I could and couldn't do, eat, etc. I had come to the realization that I had forgotten a great deal of the "rules" before, so I was starting to do a little more research on things.

But, I guess I don't need to do that anymore. I can eat what I want. I can do what I want.

Lucky me.

I finally talked to my doctor today. She apologized for the shitty treatment I was given and basically confirmed everything that I was thinking. She was very sweet and I remembered why I stayed with her even though she is far from convenient now. She has been with me through my entire journey.

We scheduled an appointment for next week. She wants to make sure that my levels go back down to zero. She also wants to do some follow-up testing to make sure that there isn't a reason why this keeps happening. I'm not sure what's worse, the not knowing and it could happen at any time or there actually being a reason. If there is a reason, then maybe something could be done. Or not. So there's that.

The emotions come in waves. I'll be fine, going about my day, and then I remember. Remember what I don't have anymore. Remember that all of our plans have changed. Remember that everything is different.

My go-to reaction when my life is spinning out of control is to grab ahold of everything that I can control and try to make it all nice and neat and pretty. I'm trying to let go of my plan. Trying to ignore the fact that we are benched for at least the next two months, ruining all of our plans for next Summer. I have to remember that I will be so incredibly lucky for all of my plans to be ruined next Summer.

It pushes back all of our plans though. Makes it further between John and his sibling's age. But, I have to remember that I will be incredibly lucky to have John and his sibling have any difference in age.

This changes my whole perspective on a third child. Will be have to go through this again? How many times will be have to go through this again until we have a healthy, sweet baby in our arms? Will be ever have another healthy, sweet baby in our arms? What if John is all we get? Not to say that he is "all we get", he's more than I ever could have dreamed. I just always pictured myself surrounded by a couple little goobers. Looking around at the chaos of it all and being so incredibly thankful for how full my heart is.

The future is unknown and I think that's the scary part. Or maybe it is more that there's a future that I didn't know about looming before me. Is this a blip on our radar? Or is this our life now? How long do we do this? How much must we go through?

The waiting was tough before. I'm glad that we "hopefully" don't have to wait nearly as long as we did before to get started again, but that's still undetermined as well. Will things happen on their own? Will I need to go to the hospital again? When will things get back to "normal"? Will things get back to normal? What is our normal?

I'm trying hard to keep moving. To keep going. To just keep swimming. If I don't stop, then I can't drown right? I'm still letting myself feel, have my moments, talk. But, I'm trying not to dwell. But the waiting. The waiting is hard. Every day that we are "waiting" is a day that we do not have any control over this.

We don't have any control over this.

We don't have any control over this.

We don't have any control over this.

It's hard to let go of the life that you thought you would have. The life that you wanted. The life that you prayed for. It's hard to realize that there is another baby that you thought you were going have that you will never get to hold. It's hard to realize that I am back in this hell again. This deep, dark hell.

I can't believe I am here again.

I can't believe I am here again.

I can't believe I am here again. 

Friday, August 26, 2016

The Waiting...

It's been forever since I've written. Sometimes I miss it. The outlet. The relationships. I consider myself lucky that I have still maintained a great deal of my relationships with the amazing women that I met through blogging. I am lucky to have these women. They know some of my deepest darkest secrets. There's something safe about bearing it all to someone who doesn't know your "real life". In a world of people who spent most of their time talking about everyone else's news, rather than their own, there's a comfort in knowing that you were able to get things off your chest without anything changing in your day to day.

I think that's what drew me to blogging in the first place. I always kept a journal. A diary. Some place where my deepest darkest secrets were kept. Sometimes I wonder if I should hunt them all down and burn them. Wondering what would happen if anyone found them. I cringe at some things that I wrote. Embarrassed for decisions I made. But, I try to remind myself that all of those decisions went into who I am today. Good or bad. They shaped me. Just like all of my life experiences. Everything that I have been through, has deeply contributed to the person that I have become.

I guess that's what brings me back here. These "experiences".

It's happening again.

Alex and I had been talking about adding to our family for  some time. The outside pressure from literally everyone we knew (including strangers at grocery stores) for us to have another baby was insane. Alex was more ready than I was. It just didn't feel right yet. But, we developed a timeline that we thought would work for us and moved forward. I had those small moments of panic when the time came. Like that moment before you jump out of a plane, where you wonder why you're doing this, and whether it is too late to turn back. But, I remembered that most of life's grandest adventures are scary, so we trudged on and I truly felt ready.

We followed the "rules". I read extensively about miscarriage risks. What could contribute to them. How long to wait. I started my prenatal vitamin the 3 months before we started trying, like I should. Then we waited. We had a timeline. A "perfect" month. One that would give me most of the Summer off without really impacting anything that we would want to do while I healed and we got used to being a family of four. (And when I say "we", I mean "me". Alex is of the "whenever" camp, and I am of the, "this is how I would like to plan my life to be". You know what they say God does when you plan right?)

So, we came to "perfect month" and I thought we had missed it. Things were weird. Things were different. Plans didn't go as I thought they would and I tried to remember that I have no control over this. That even if I do everything 100% perfect on my side, there is still some ridiculous chance of it actually happening, like 20% or something. So, I let it go. Until things changed.

And I knew. My gut. I knew. Everything was different. I knew. So I patiently waited for confirmation. But, even when I got it, I was unsettled. It wasn't dark enough. It wasn't clear enough. 74,000 tests later, I finally "relaxed" and accepted the news. I told Alex. We told Nicole and Jamie. And we went forward.

I told myself that I would let my past experiences shape this. That I was going to go through this with the utmost positivity. That despite my 50/50 record, this would work out alright. I called the doctor, made the appointments, but the problem is that she switched to a new practice. This new practice doesn't perform ultrasounds until 13 weeks, and that's only if you request that testing. I started to panic a little. That's too long. I explained my situation, I explained my past, and they agreed to do blood work. Hoping to score an early ultrasound, I went through the steps and waited for the results.

That's when the dread kicked in. The worry. Mother's intuition, right? The numbers came back low. So low. 137. As is protocol, they have you come back 2 days later, because you can tell nothing from one blood draw. I tried to quiet my worry, but I was unsettled. The next number, 72 hours later, 240. It didn't double.

I called the doctor immediately so that she could tell me that it was OK. That it was normal, they range greatly, that it almost doubled so it was close enough. I waited. Nothing. I called the next day. Nothing. Eight-thirty last night I received an email from her. She stated that my levels were low and not doubling like they should and I needed to go back today to get it drawn again. I tried to quiet the worry again. This happens all the time. Some are just slow starters. It would be OK.

But, when I was driving home I lost it. It was all too much. I couldn't believe that I was "here" again. I called my mom and cried. I wanted her to know about it before "it" didn't exist anymore, if it ever did. We had planned on telling our parents this weekend. Our friends next weekend. Wanting to not wait to announce our news this time. Wanting to make sure that we had an army of love and support around us, no matter what the outcome. I don't even think we will get there. I planned to announce early, but apparently not early enough.

So, I'm here. 5 weeks. Waiting to hear. I had no less than 8 million emails today, so far. None of them the test results. I didn't go into work today. I've just been wandering. I ran some errands. Got my nails done. Now I'm sitting eating lunch alone and writing. Waiting. No one knows where I am. I feel alone. All alone. I know I have people "with" me, but there's something so isolating knowing that whatever is going on, is going on in your own body. You're helpless. So is everyone else, but it's not their body.

I'm just wondering why? Why am I here again? Why do we need to do this again? Why can't I just have a normal, wonderful happy experience? Why does this have to be filled with dread and worry? Why are the minutes ticking away so slowly?

It was so hard before. So hard to pull myself out of that deep, dark, hateful hole that I was in. I didn't have John last time. While on some levels, I believe that it won't "allow" be to sink so low, I also know that still needing to be a mom to my one sweet blessing here on Earth, that I won't be able to fall apart like I know I'll need. There's no time for that when you're a mom.

Before, I found comfort in the fact that I have a large amount of friends that had been through it before. A fucked up club that we all belonged to against our will. But we were together in it. We laughed. We cried. We rallied around each other when we needed it. We shared. We drank. We held each other up. We got through it. But, this brings me into a new club. The "multiple miscarriage" club. Now it's a "thing". Not a one-off. Not a freak accident. Not a terrible memory buried underneath all of the baby snuggles from the babies that did make it. Now it's a "thing". A history. 50/50 to 1 in 3. I'm a new statistic. A new bracket. A new level of hell.

I just want to know why. Why is this year so terrible? Why did we lose Nanny and now my baby? Let's not even get into the other shitty things that have happened. We should be celebrating. The end of a shitty 6 months and finishing the year with a bang. Alex finally getting a new job. No more weekends. Early days. Being more of a family. A new beginning. A new adventure. A new baby. We should be rejoicing. Planning. Dreaming. Arguing over names. Starting lovingly at our sweet boy and feeling so damned lucky that we get to do it all over again.

Instead I wait. Alone. To find my fate. More blood draws? Ultrasound? Procedures? Doctors' visits? Changed plans? What will it be?

And here we go....the results are in...

The dropped. It's over.