3 Isn't Always a Magic Number.

As soon as I heard my OB's tone, I knew it wasn't good news.

I think I hit the floor before I finished hanging up the call.

It was 3:15 in the afternoon on a Monday and someone was telling me that I would lose my baby.

It just didn't seem fair.
But life is not fair.
Life just is.

I had tried to steel myself for bad news, because as soon as I had  started spotting, I KNEW.
I didn't want to believe it, but I knew.
This was not my first time at the rodeo...

Everyone sent me such encouraging anecdotes and shared personal stories of spotting while pregnant that I wrapped myself up in them and prayed that they would be enough to stop what I felt coming.

I pictured what it would be like to have another child in the house.
What O would be like as a big brother.
The 4 of us as a family.

It was too early to get so excited, to plan, but I guess I hoped that might keep the bad at bay...

But as these things do, it came anyway.
And I shut down.

I crawled into bed and didn't get out for over a week.
Didn't answer my phone, or check my email.
I didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or do anything.

I just laid in bed.
Sometimes sleeping, sometimes crying, sometimes just staring at the walls.

I felt completely empty.

I kept trying to get angry, so that at least I could feel something other than the overwhelmingly sad emptiness, but there wasn't anything/anyone to be angry with.

It wasn't my fault, or anyone elses'.
I could get angry at G-d, but even that seemed useless.
As I'm not even sure there  is a G-d, it seemed silly to direct anger that way.

Besides, if there is one, and I actually hope there is, I doubt he gets his jollies from ripping children away from my womb....

Just a theory.

I think this miscarriage was harder than the other two because I have O.
You would think that having a child would soften the blow, but for me, that made it all the more intense...

Because I know what it's like now.
To feel that child grow to full-term.
To birth that child.
To hold him.
To watch him grow.

I didn't have the knowledge/gift of that the first two times.
Now I do.

So the hurt is deeper.
Because I could see the life of this child unfold in my mind's eye.
I could feel her tiny little hands in mine.
(in all my dreams, the baby was always a girl)

Instead, she is gone...or to some, never was.


Eventually the sorrow gave way to guilt.
Guilt for being a bad wife.
Guilt for being a neglectful mother.
Guilt for being a selfish woman.

My husband had lost something too, yet I couldn't move to comfort him.
My son needed his mommy, but after a couple hours with him, I had to retreat back to my tears.
There are women out there who've yet to conceive, those who've had stillbirths, who've buried their infants--

Who am I to wallow in pain?
I should be grateful, right?

I am, and I'm not, I suppose....

I am eternally gratefully for my son.
But I want another child, desperately.

My husband has told me every day since we lost:
We will try again, We will have another baby.
Will we? Can we? I hope so. I have to hope.

I keep hanging on to that.
But I keep asking myself:

Is it wrong? Shouldn't I just be grateful to have one? Shouldn't one be enough?

Sigh.

At this moment, it's not.

I am grieving for the loss of not just this child, but of the others before it.
3 children I will never get to hold.

I cling to the fact that I am blessed to be a part of a little family of 3...
but still I'm yearning to become 4.





Thank you to all of you who called/texted/messaged/tweeted me, and even went the extra step and called the Huz.  You guys are so genuinely lovely and compassionate. I am so appreciative and lucky to have each of you. Your words of love, understanding and encouragement helped me to feel less alone.


Thank you to my husband who knew I needed to retreat for awhile and never made me feel bad for it. Thank you for holding me up and keeping me out of complete darkness. You are such a good man/father, and I am lucky to have you.


Thank you to my in-laws, who are like true parents to me.



As for the days ahead, I have no idea....
Some days I feel good, and other days I want to crawl back into my hole.

There has been an issue this entire time with my hormone levels rising rather than dropping, so I keep having to go into my OB's office for blood draws every couple of days to monitor the situation.

He's really trying to avoid doing a D and C, which I agree with, but walking into his office is torture. It digs at the wound a little bit more each time.

The bleeding doesn't help either. Each trip to the restroom is another glaring reminder of what ISN'T.

My levels have finally started going down, so hopefully today was the last blood draw. If the results come back not at zero, they'll schedule the D and C.

In the meantime, I'm trying to keep my focus on getting back on track with just day-to day life.

Which has mostly involved a lot of cleaning and laundry, and oddly, paperwork.
(That and the 2 hrs it took to go through my 3 email inboxes...)

My husband is a beautifully loving and compassionate man...

But he is a shit housekeeper.
Piles of laundry, trash, toys, mail, bills, Oh, MY.

It was a HOT MESS up in our living space.

I don't know how things can get so out of control in 2 weeks, but they can....let me tell you, they CAN.

Normally, I would have been majorly pissed, but it gave me something to do, you know?

Thankfully for his sake and my sanity, things are finally back to normal, and clean.

Although, I can still feel that empty space that grows a tiny bit bigger each time...
That piece of silent space that will stay with me always.
...and never fails to hurt whenever I stumble into it.

Because I said I would!

While I sit on pins and needles waiting for Will to call me, who is waiting for the Doc to call HIM, let's turn our attention to something happier:

O's Halloweeny First Birthday Extravaganza!!!

I was panicked and stressed up until everyone arrived: The weather was awful, nixing our outside plans, Owen fell asleep right as people were supposed to arrive and tons of people canceled last minute-I thought we were DOOMED...

But you know what?

It turned out to be just what it should have been:

Small

Warm

Comfortable

Sincere

Lovely

Here's a Looky:

 

Big hugs to everyone who helped make his day (and Daddy and Mommy's too) SPECIAL.

We love you all! Thanks for giving us yours!

Oh, I forgot. I'm not allowed to...

Have a life.
Set boundaries.
Say no.
Stand up for myself.
Get respect.
Expect common courtesy.
Receive love unless I've earned it.


What brought on this tirade you ask?


Mother's Day.

I was very excited about this coming M-Day, it being my first official one and all...a day I have waited pretty much my whole freaking life for.

BUT, it was also the first M-day for my mom and my MIL as grandmothers. Exciting right?

I thought so.
So over a month ago, I set to planning.

I thought it would be awesome for us all to celebrate together.

My mother wanted to celebrate separately.
She gave me grief about the fact that she (or my siblings) never sees us and never sees the baby.

(forget the fact that we have tried and tried to go see her, but she's always "busy", and oh, what was that other thing? Oh yeah. I DON'T DRIVE.)

But despite logic, I felt the gnawing of guilt beginning.

So I tell her that we'll come up and spend the day with her, just tell me what day.

She hems and haws for weeks--she's busy, you know.

Finally, she decides on the Saturday of M-Day weekend. Great! Okay! All systems go!

Until I realize that my best friend/college roommate is graduating with her MA, and her celebration is on Saturday. The SAME Saturday. My brain had not previously put that together.

My bad.

So I call my Mom, apologize, explain and say that we can still come up but we won't be able to make it until the (she lives an hour away) evening. She says that's just fine!

Whew! Crisis averted!

Until I get a profanity-laden call from my sister in which she questions my humanity because I waited until the last minute to plan M-Day (apparently that's my sole responsibility even though my mother has 2 other children), AND I'm not spending the DAY of M-day with mom, but the completely unloving day before (never mind that it's also M-day for my MIL too, but that's crazy talk) which is just UNACCEPTABLE.

I explain to her that I had been trying to plan M-Day for over a month, and that our mother CHOSE Saturday.

This shut her up for a couple seconds, but amazingly, I was still the uber-bitch, because I didn't call and tell her that. When I tried to explain the phenomenon known as a two-way telephone, I was immediately shut down. Didn't I know that she was busy? Didn't I know that I had to make time for her?

What an abhorrent person I am, being busy with my husband and son.

But as we all know,as she so helpfully informed me--it’s not that hard to take care of a baby, anyway.

So after she hangs up on me, I call my mom.

I ask her why she didn't tell me she was upset. She denies it until I tell her that my sister called.

Then guess what happened? You'll NEVER guess...

Hey! That's right! It was all my fault again.

I've abandoned my family. It's my attitude that has degraded our relationship.

I do nothing but judge them and think I'm better than them.

My husband is mean to them.

I don't put forth enough effort to compromise with them.

I don't make enough of an effort to call or visit.

I shouldn't speak up when I feel like I'm being disrespected, because I just take things too personally.

I shouldn't say that I disapprove of the drug and/or alcohol use around me, or mention my worry over the legal issues that have resulted as a consequence of it, because who wants to be around someone who is always judging?

I shouldn't expect people to respect my choices or acknowledge my successes, because that's just me throwing things in people's faces.

And the key to it all:

I just need to accept people for who they are and let them say what they want to say, and do what they want to do because that is my duty as their family member and the only way I will ever have a relationship with them.

Suck it up, and put aside my own feelings, because they are all I will ever have. Even my husband won't always be there, because as I should fucking know, it won't last.

Silly me, what WAS I thinking?

I went off and forgot my place again.

I'm going to keep on forgetting, so brace yourselves.

I'm tired of being the bad guy, the asshole, the one who doesn't care about anybody, the one who is selfish and judgmental, simply because:

I no longer make them the center of my universe, dropping everything to do whatever they want me to, whenever they want me to.

I will not tolerate being insulted and disrespected any time I say no or disagree or choose to go a different path.

I won't stand for my husband being treated poorly because he sticks up for me or is protective of me. Guess what? It IS his business. As his wife and father of our son, what goes on with, or is said to us, is in fact, his business.

[And yes, there was a time we broke up. He didn't cheat on me or abuse me, he just got commitment cold feet for a short time. It happens. Get over it. We did. Stop using that as an excuse to treat him like dirt. It's a lame one.]

I will not bring my son around people who are under the influence of drugs and alcohol. That is my RIGHT as his mother. If that makes me judgy and superior, then so it shall be. I don't like being around it, so why the hell would I want my baby to be?

I will not apologize for making my own life and building a family with my husband. I have worked my ass off to get where I am today, and my husband and son are my priority. That is how it should be.

I have spent YEARS making an effort to be closer, to live up to expectations, to make everyone happy, to win over love and approval, to be what I was "supposed" to be, and I'm done. D-O-N-E.

There's no reciprocity, no respect, no compassion. Nothing EVER comes honestly-without motive or agenda.

Don't worry though, I'll probably still continue to second-guess myself

{Am I mean, uncaring, selfish, and judgmental? Do I expect too much? Am I not giving enough? What more could I have done to make it better?}

as life-long habits are hard to break, but I will slowly fade it out because I REFUSE to be manipulated any longer.

I have people in my life who love and support me unconditionally. That is enough.

I agree, that at the end of the day all you really have is your family but--

Blood is not the end-all of what makes a family.


Maybe someday, things can be different, but for now, I need to be different.



This will probably never be read by those it's directed at, and even if it WAS, it would fall of deaf-ly livid  ears.

But I had to get it out, you know?

A lot of hours, therapy and soul-searching have been spent on what to do with my relationships with certain members of my family--how to have one, frankly.

The conclusion that I have come to is that I can have one, but it won't be a healthy one. It won't be reciprocal or unconditional.

It'll have its good times, but ultimately it will just be another round in generational vicious cycle.

Years ago, I would have dove right in. I wanted to be loved and recognized so badly by my family, that I would gut myself on command. Occasionally, I would rebel against that, in an attempt to stand my ground, but after being hyper-villianized, I would feel so guilty and ashamed that I would do ANYTHING to make it better.

Through therapy and education, I started to see the abuse in those relationships, but was still willing to take it because, after all, they're family, right?

Then I met my husband. It dawned of me that if I ever wanted to have a family of my own, I had to get the HELL out of my family's whirling fuck-upedness.

When I got pregnant with our son that idea really crystallized, but yet there was this renewed sense of "maybe we can work it out," because a child brings out the hope in people-mostly though, it was me, as per the usual, second-guessing myself: "What kind of person wouldn't want her family around her son?"

So I tried. And tried. Made phone calls, visited, let them in to my life, my new family, my new self.

Ever hear the phrase, "same shit, different day?"
That's basically how it is.

It's how it's always been, now featuring an extra helping of passive-aggressiveness.

Yay!

And I am OVEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRR it.

I deserve better.

Even if I DIDN'T, my husband and son do.

They deserve better from me.


I know I can't cut them out completely (at least not until we flee the state), but we desperately need the emotional distance. After this, all my efforts cease.


We'll see how it goes.

It's important to clarify that I love my family very much, more than I think most people understand, but just because you love someone, doesn't always mean that you should surround yourself with them. Heredity is not a get-out-of-jail-free card for bad behavior. I don't care what anybody says.


Happy Mother's Day to all my fellow Mamas out there. Have a love-filled day.

He's going to be shaving tomorrow morning, I'm convinced.

O is soooooo big already. He sat up on his own last night, and I burst into tears!

I can't handle this growing up business. OBVIOUSLY, I want him to have a long and healthy life, but can't he just be my baby forever?

No....? Crap.

It's outta control.

I can't believe that he's going to be 6 months next week....

In related news, I turned 29 recently. I was not a fan of turning 29.

Wasn't I supposed to accomplish a lot more? Aren't I supposed to be thinner and more successful?

30 is looming, and things are not the way I'd hoped for them to be.

Last year, we were here and oh yeah, here.

And while some things have changed, it's still a very familiar story except now we're throwing in a baby for extra character development.

It's scary and it's frustrating b/c I want my son to have a good life. I want my husband and I to have a good marriage. Which we do, but the last 2 years has been very hard for us. I don't think we've really had a moment yet to breathe-- to really relax and enjoy being a couple, and now, a family.

We're always trying to figure out how to get to the next step-holding our breath, b/c it feels like at any moment, the other shoe could drop.

I know that's a horrible way to live. I know we need to be grateful (we are) for what we do have.

There's just so much pressure to be "successful." To want more.

This got me thinking: What IS that, exactly?

According to the ever-pervasive "they," success is:
a well-paying salaried job, a nice home, a nice car, a Roth IRA and a 401K.

My husband works hard, gets paid by the hour.
We live in his parent's nice home.
He drives a Jetta that has over a 102 thousand miles on it and a constant check engine light blinking.
I think I may have a great-great grandfather named Ira.
I have friends who've run 5-10ks.

You can see why we feel a little second-class these days....

Butt on the flip side, I constantly try to remind myself of the progress we've made since moving in with the ILs, that perhaps won't recieve any kudos from "the them," but has been huge for us.

After both losing our jobs, my hubs has been at his for 3 years.
We were able to climb out of the red and move into black.
We're able to pay our bills in full every month.
We've drastically improved our credit that took a hit after being unemployed.
We're finally paying down our debt (slowly, but) successfully.
We actually have some money in savings. (!!!)
Most importantly, we've continued to grow in our marriage and we've welcomed a healthy, gorgeous son who we keep fed and cared for.

Why isn't that successful? Where's the respect for those triumphs?



We would LOVE to move out on our own. We dream of owning a home, of being debt-free of having a 401K, but for now, but we can only do so much.

I know that my 29th year is probably not going to be what I had envisioned, and the same will probably be said for my 30th year, but every day I will try to keep moving forward and be successful in my perseverance.

Even so, I know there will be days where I curse everything, cry, and rage against the wreckage that I feel my life has become, but who doesn't have those days?

Things WILL turn around.
(RIGHT?)

We will finally make enough money to get our own place.
We will be able to buy a new car.
We will be debt free.
We will get to the next step.

It might just not be as soon as we hoped. And that has to be okay.

Because:

We are better off than we were.
We are moving forward.
We are in this together.
We are good parents.
We are a FAMILY.


Being an adult is hard. Being okay with not being a "perfect adult" is even harder.

I'm thankful for all that I have. I think it's okay to want to achieve more.

BUT

I have a tendency to criticize my accomplishments that aren't all-encompassing, that don't fit squarely in to society's check list for a happy life.

I have to stop that, for the sake of myself and my family.


It's the little victories that usually add up to mean the most. I need to stop and celebrate them.

I hope your celebrate your own.

Sweet potato pancakes, grits, and gorgeous veils, OH my!

Today has been a weird day. First poor Farrah Fawcett lost her battle with cancer, and then MJ has a heart attack....While it is a sad day for the pop culture community and world at large, at risk of sounding disrespectful, I'm glad they're gone, b/c at least they're (hopefully) at peace. Ms. Fawcett was undoubtedly in immeasurable amounts of pain--in hell, and Mr. Jackson was well, immeasurably fucked up, so in his own brand of hell all the same.

But that's all I'm going to say about that....

On to happier things:

Our trip to Atlanta went REALLY well. It was so much fun, but OH MY SWELTERING. So hot!

Husband went off to "rough it" with the boys in the woods of North Carolina (if a swank cabin with flat screens, beds, and a jacuzzi coupled with frat-level drinking games are part of a general wilderness motif), and I stayed in Hotlanta with my new SIL and her friends. They were a fantastic group of women, and so sweet.

The weekend was filled with fantastic food (my life is forever-changed after the introduction of Moose Tracks), bridal celebrations, drunken texts (from the boys), silly pictures, and scandalous lingerie (all in the name of Jesus...lol).

All in all, the makings of a memorable weekend.

I loved getting to spend time with my SIL-to-be, as we really didn't know each other AT ALL before this trip. After, however, we've discovered a menagerie of commonalities and have made a pact. Haha.

The best part of the trip was being able to go with her to try on her dress and be a part of the veil-choosing. Dealing with the aging Southern Debutante, not so much.

To the woman's credit though, she did show us one of the coolest tricks to do with your veil that I have ever seen.

As far as little Owen, we are in 20th week, and feeling pretty good. All I want to do is eat, which kind of freaks me out, because I want to be really careful about my weight gain, and unfortunately, I'm not craving veggies and cottage cheese, if you know what I mean....

We have our scheduled U/S through the perinatal office on the 29th. This was supposed to be our anatomy screen, but as you all know, I jumped the gun, and went to a third-party place on my own.

I'm nervous that this U/S will tell us that it's a girl. Not that we'll be any LESS thrilled, it will just be kind of weird....like: JUST KIDDING. Sorry, Owen. You'll now be known as Olivia. Awkward!

In reality, all I care about is that he's healthy, which is why I love U/S's because you can get a more accurate reading of the heartbeat, position, movement, measurements, etc. If I had it my way, I'd have one every month! Haha.

In other baby news, I've started the prep for baby shower time!

I think I'll put all of that in a separate post though, as I'm starting to lose focus! Oy! Mommy brain!

"Early Father's Day", and "To Crash, or not to Crash?"

Father's Day came early this year in our house. This was due to hectic travel schedules on everyone's part. My FIL is leaving tomorrow morning for a business trip, and then on Thursday, my husband and maybe myself (more on the maybe part in a minute), will be flying to Atlanta to visit his brother and his fiancee.

We won't be back until late Sunday night which meant that we had to celebrate this weekend....

I decided that for F Day, I really wanted to surprise my hubby with the baby's gender. How perfect is that, right?

Well, my OBGYN attempted to thwart my plans. He wanted me to wait until I was 20 (to date, I'm almost 19) weeks to have my ultrasound, so he scheduled me for the 22nd of June. Well, BOO on that, sir!

I was soooo bummed! But then, a friend suggested something brilliant:
Just go to one of those 3D imaging places, and pay them to do the ultrasound.

(She's a genius)

Off I went! Granted we're trying to save money and all, but this was too perfect!


After almost a half an hour of the baby hiding the goods, my MIL and I got the news:

It's a BOY!!

I totally started bawling. Happy Tears, of course!


I found the cutest little frames that have the "What are Boys Made of?" rhyme on them, and inserted the two best u/s pics....

We presented one to my FIL and one to my hubs last night.

The look on his face was PRICELESS. :)

He's over the MOON to be having a son, and it's kinda cool because my husband was the firstborn son to his parents, and the first grandchild to his parents, and our son will follow that line as well.

Get ready world, Owen Christopher Guillermo is on his way!

Now on on to the 2nd part of today's blog--

Like I mentioned at the top of this post, my husband and I are supposed to fly out on the 18th, and spend the weekend with his brother and our soon-to-be sister-in-law, to celebrate their respective bachelor/ette parties, but I think that I may be bowing out.

This makes me very sad, as I was really looking forward to spending time with them, but the problem is, well, our lodging arrangement while there.

My husband and I will not actually be together for most of the trip, as he'll be going out to the woods to rent a cabin and do "manly-man" man things with his brother and the other groomsmen.

I, on the other hand, will stay with my new SIL, as we celebrate bridal things, and have Girls Night Out, etc....

Awesome, I know. Except for the fact that I would spend three nights crashed on their couch in a very cool, but small loft-type studio.

This is going to make me sound like a spoiled brat, but I can't really crash on people's couches/floors anymore. Not with my 80-year-old-lady joints.

And as I mentioned before, pregnancy has compounded this problem quite a bit. I'm pretty much in pain all the time.

In the middle of the night, it's worse because of sleeping in one position or another for an extended period of time. I have a hard time getting up and out of bed, I have to hobble to the bathroom (constantly, as little man has taken up residence directly on my bladder), and sometimes I don't always make it, ahem, successfully. The pain and stiffness issue should go back to the level I'm used to after i give birth, but it doesn't help the situation at hand now.

As you can see, this doesn't really bode well for crashing on a couch (one that I have never seen, nor have any idea if it's actually big enough to handle a 5-months-pregnant disabled woman--both my BIL and SIL are no bigger than a minute), and navigating terrain in the dark that I'm not familiar with.

I just don't think it's going to end well, and my husband hasn't been okay with the arrangement from the get-go. He doesn't want me to be uncomfortable and sleepless for 3 days, but mostly, he's afraid I'll fall down and hurt myself.

At first, I just thought he was being a worry wort, but given my pain level these days and my recent falls, I've started to feel apprehensive myself.

Our original plan was to get me a hotel/motel room, so that the bathroom would be steps from the bed, and I'd be able to leave the bathroom lights on all night to help me see...

But as this trip is already breaking our bank as it is, that arrangement is out of the question.


I want to go! I'd hate to miss out on this, especially since we're missing out on the wedding in October.

So what's a girl to do? Do I just go armed with cane and a nightlight, suck it up, and hope for the best? Or do I resign myself to staying home?

Sometimes, my Cerebral Palsy really pisses me off.

But, I can't be too whiny. The most important thing is that my husband will get to spend some time with his brother, which he's stoked for, and lest we forget:

We're having a SON!

The Cat is (all the way) Outta the Bag....

So we finally told my husband's grandparents, aunt and uncle last about the baby last night.

They were sort of the last hold-outs as far as telling because we wanted to wait til were were further along, and with all of Nana's health issues, we wanted to wait for a time when she was feeling at least slightly better.

They all took it in stride. I think my husband was disappointed that they weren't more excited, or ebullient rather, but I think that to them, it was kinda a given.

Maybe?

His Nana was like: I knew you guys would have a baby soon!

Don't get me wrong, they were happy for us. It was a demand, not a request that we come home for Christmas...hopefully the baby will be old enough to travel.

It's so funny, because initially we wanted to not have ANYONE know until about now, but it just didn't work that way...

We told his parents, who tried to keep it a secret, then we told my mom who couldn't keep it a secret if her life depended on it, and immediately told everyone who would listen, and then my husband and I were so excited that we told some of our close friends, and it just spread like wildfire from there.

So yeah, we kinda blew it, but oh well!

It's harder to keep in happy news, I've noticed....

We hoping that once we know what the sex of the baby is, we can send out formal announcements to everyone, maybe with a maternity photo...

So yay! The family knows!

On to another topic:

WHY IS IT SO DISGUSTINGLY HOT?

I'm sitting here in my underwear, and I still feel like I'm melting.

...and on that note of TMI, perhaps I should end this entry.





PS. Thank you to all of you who left such loving and supportive comments on my last blog. Sorry that it was such a "debbie-downer," and I really appreciate the awesomeness from you guys!