Weekend Update....Sigh.

I'm having a serious blogging crisis, which I'm not even sure how to post about, so I'll get into that later...

Since it's been awhile though, I did want to check in--keep everybody updated on our ummmmm, errrrrm progress?

Yesterday was the one monthaversary of Huz' unemployment.
Obviously, it was an understated celebration....harumph.

He's been applying every day since he lost his job, he's been going to an employment resource center 2x a week, and he's been going to job fairs.

A dear friend even took the time to lend us her professional eye and rehauled his resume...

Annnnd, NADA.

Not even a call back.

As an added bonus?

My student loan payments went up another $200 a month.
(Found out that little gem out the day Husband lost his job.)

Sallie Mae doesn't give  a rat's ASS about my no-income situation.
I was basically told to pay up or default.

HELPFUL.

We're feeling GREAT about life.

It's only been a month, right?
Right?
Right....
(as I look nervously at my expanding belly)

We did qualify for unemployment, and got our first check in the mail today....

A whopping $342.00!

I'd laugh at the amount if we didn't need it so badly.

It's SOMETHING, so I have to focus on that.

My Medi-Cal situation is kiiiinda settled, in that I am eligible for prenatal MC, but not fully instated because their records still show that I have alternate coverage.


I dropped off our termination letter to the offices last week after FINALLY getting it from Kaiser (who took their sweet time), but when I called the MC offices, they said that the whole thing could take up to 20 business days to process....

Awesome!

So I'm in limbo, but my OB agreed to see me and just backdate for as long as he can.

Baby is doing well, and is healthy from what they can tell.

It's a GIRL btw (for those of you who don't follow facebook or twitter)!!

At least they're 90% sure it's a girl....

The last US I was able to have was right at 17wks, so they said it was a bit early, but the tech was super confident.

As she put it:
Nothing was popping UP. Ha!

I'll be 20 weeks on Monday, and I have an appt. with the Perinatalogist on the 4th.

He'll be able to do a much more thorough/detailed scan then.

But so far, everything looks good!

Physically, I'm feeling okayish.
I'm exhausted all the time, and the joint pain has already kicked into high gear, so I know I've got  A LOT to look forward to in the coming months!

I'm excited, but not as ecstatic as I thought I would be.
I mean, I'm thrilled we're having a girl...I'm thrilled we're having a BABY, but I think my enthusiasm/joy is clouded by stress and depression.

I lay awake at night wondering how we're going to make it.

Asking myself Again and Again: Where did we go so wrong?

I keep wondering/questioning, even praying:
When the FUCK are things going to ACTUALLY turn around for us?

Every time we pass by the apartment complex that we were supposed to move into, my stomach just sinks, and I feel that sting of tears behind my eyes....

Unpacking our boxes gutted us both.

It's been a really long and ugly month.
We're trying very hard to plaster a smile on our faces and soldier forward.

Whenever someone asks how we are, we say:
We're hanging in there! Trying to stay positive, and looking forward to whatever opportunity comes our way!

Which is true.
Sort of...

In the quiet moments of the day, when we're alone?

We feel stuck.
Scared.
Angry.
Heartbroken.


This pattern of two steps forward, 3 steps back has plagued us for too long.

It's no longer about my husband just finding a good job.

For us to actually move in  FORWARD motion?

He needs a fucking miracle job.
We need a sweepstakes win.
We need magic.

Since magic, miracles and Ed McMahon seem to be outta our reach, the plan is for the Huz to find a full-time job, get settled in that schedule and then take on a night/weekend job, and just begin digging our way to the top of some semblance of stability.

Piece of cake, no?

Jobs are just RIPE for the picking!
Snort.
(are we working the wrong field?)

People keep telling me that our break is just around the corner, good things happen to good people, etc....

I sure hope so.

But I think we're going to be stuck for a long damn time.

We haven't any other choice than to just keep trudging through the shit we've got and to make the best of it.

I'm honestly not sure how to keep doing that.

But we'll figure it out.

Key thing about parenthood is that it takes quitting COMPLETELY OFF the table.

Annoying, right?
Ha.






As usual, thanks to all of you who've checked in with us, offered commiseration, and are generally rooting for us.

We really appreciate all  the support.

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.

Three's Complicated....

This summer, we will have been living with my Husband's parents for 3 years.

That's shocking to me. Even though it shouldn't be.  

In the least.


When we arrived on their doorstep in August of 2008, we were confident that it was just going to be a 3 month transitional period.

3 months became 6.
6 months became a YEAR. 
I got pregnant.

The plan was to be out after O was born and I was healed.

Snort.
Riiiight.
Because we would so be financially flush after having a child.
We're thinkers, we are!

Then?
We would be out by O's 1st birthday.
Yes!

He's just about 6 months away from turning 2, we can all see how well that went...

At the turn of this year, I found myself angry and desperate.

Overwhelmingly so.

For all of the reasons and more that I have blogged about in the past...

It is not easy living with another couple.
Particularly when that couple happens to be your Parents (in-law).

Not only are there the usual expectations that you would face while learning to coexist with roommates, but the the additional expectations that all children feel the need to meet (and exceed) in order to please their parents.

The most crushing element in this equation is the societal pressure.

Americans are a nation of  islands.
If we find ourselves in a position where we must rely on another (especially in any financial sense), we have failed.

Every nuclear family for themselves!

Even with the changing tides of the economy forcing people to move in with Ma and Pa and for households to become multi-generational, there is still the general sense of embarrassment and the pungent smell of perceived failure hanging around the topic of  "going back home."

My husband and I wrestle with it probably more than anything else in  our marriage.....

Why?

Why do we allow ourselves to be labeled as failures?
Why do we berate ourselves for things beyond our control?

Why can't we look at the marriages we've built and the beautiful son we're raising despite the chaos in the world as TRUE signs of success?

Sigh.
We're trying.
I'm trying....

In the last couple of months, as I've stopped to take in certain moments of the day, I realized that while this situation is not ideal, it is actually quite the gift.

It goes deeper that a financial woes and cheap rent.

In our time here, I've gotten to be extremely close with my MIL, and love my FIL as if he were a father, which is big for me.

They gotten to know me better, but more importantly, they've started to get to know their son better.
Not just as their child, but as a man.
As a husband.
As a father.

He is no longer the irresponsible teenager they tended to remember.

He's gotten to know them beyond their title of Mom and Dad.
He's gotten to see them with new perspective, as he is now a fellow parent joining the ranks...

Creating bonds I don't think they had before.

The best by far, though?
Being a team of 4, raising my son as a family.

This little is flooded with love.
He gets to truly grow up with his grandparents.

His grandparents (who in the beginning, were definitely reticent about the idea of us having a child under their roof) have been blessed to be present for every single step of this child's life, from the first movements in my belly to the flying like a diapered-dervish through the house on his own two feet...

And are as utterly in love with their grandson as he is with them.

He likes them better than Mommy and Daddy. Not that Mommy and Daddy are bitter, or anything....ahem.

I don't know how I would've gotten through my pregnancy without the support of my ILs.
I don't know how the Hubs and I would've survived the first couple of months when we brought the baby home...

Frankly, I don't think O would have been born at ALL, had we not been living with them. No exaggeration.

That ALONE makes bunking with the 'rents, totally worth it.


Someday, we will be in our own place.
Someday, we will be separate.

For now, we're at home. 
In all the ways a family can be.















[Peeps? When you get a chance, head over and visit the lovely Jaime over at The Story of Us.
Today's beautiful post helped me really gather my thoughts for this post. AND? Her children are just delicious!]