I've Been Holdin' Out on Ya...

Sooooooo, I'm pregnant.

I had a feeling that I was a week or so before Thanksgiving, but I was afraid to even hope given this last summer...

But by Black Friday--I just couldn't take it, so we went to CVS and got a 3 pack of tests.

All immediate positives.

Doctor's office: POSITIVE

Yaaaaay, right?


YES!
 

Then my OBGYN called to tell me that my ovaries weren't functioning normally so my hormone levels (progesterone) were really low and I could, because of that, potentially lose the baby at any time.

Well, Fuuuuuck.

So I started taking hormone injections twice a day in order to keep shit on the level.

They worked!

I would have to continue taking said hormones for the duration of the 1st Trimester.
After that point, my uterus would be primed enough to take over...

Okay, fine!
According to my math, that only left me with like 2.5 weeks to go!
Not too shabby!

And THEN.....

My OBGYN called again.
To tell me that my Pap came back abnormal.
He has some concerns...
Wants to biopsy....

Have I ever mentioned that my mother had Cervical and Ovarian Cancer?

That she had a hysterectomy at 34?
That I'm TERRIFIED that it will happen to me too?

Yeeeeah.

I have an appt. with him on the 19th to discuss options, as it's dangerous to biopsy a pregnant woman's cervix...

He's hoping it's a false positive, as am I.
Or that it's pre-cancerous, and can be treated after I give birth.

If it IS in fact CANCER, then I have to terminate the pregnancy.

But you know what?

Fuck that noise.

I'm not even gonna go there.
I can't.

I'm just going to focus on trying to have the healthiest pregnancy possible, and not completely go off the deep-end, because I had to stop my meds cold turkey....

(it's been rough)


Today (1-3-12), I went in for my 1st ultrasound.

Everything looks good, and the heartbeat is strong BUT I'm only measuring 9 weeks.

I immediately panicked, thinking that OBVIOUSLY that meant that there was something wrong with the baby...

Then my neonatal specialist calmly informed me that maaaaaybe my math was just off...

Well.
There's that...

There's Someone in THERE! Day 3 of 365

Ahem.

However--

I am a bit (Read: a lot) stressed  because I thought we were hitting 12 weeks today which would mean we were outta the woods as far as major miscarriage territory is concerned, AND I thought my hormone situation was just about wrapped up....

Nope!

Also?

We told our family over Xmas, because we thought we were further along...I feel like if we miscarry again, we'll let everyone down.

I know.
Crazy talk, I KNOW.

I want to be ovvvver-the-moooooon excited and I am, but I'm scared.
Really scared.

This is my fifth pregnancy, kids.
This one has to stick.
I can't do this again.

It's too fucking hard--
Mentally
Physically
EMOTIONALLY.

This will be our last go.
It breaks my heart, but I feel like it's the right decision.
Mostly for the sake of my sanity.

Not to mention, if Cancer is on the table-- a hysterectomy is too, so my fertility will be taken from me anyway...

But as I said before, I can't go there yet.

I just keep trying to live in the positives, and hope.

Because there isn't a damn thing I can do but what I'm already doing.
It's gonna all unfold that way it chooses to.

Maybe I'll like it, maybe I won't.

But for now, there's a strong little heartbeat in my belly, and a beautiful little boy snoring away in his big boy bed, so I'm hanging on to that today.

I almost wasn't going to go public with the news, but then I realized that I didn't want to do this alone.

Good, bad or ugly (or a combination therein), I'm going to need support through this season of my life.

It warms my soul in a way I can't describe to know that I will have that support here in this space and community--all I have to do is ask.

I started this blog to document O's pregnancy, definitely as more of a narrative to myself (and what a mess that was, ha!),  and it's grown into such a part of me, so this little bloggy-that-could is definitely coming 'round full circle in its own quirky way....

Thanks for hanging out with me.

Much Love.

Annnd, The Kitchen Sink.

Where have I been lately?

I'm not sure.

How am I doing?

Not sure about that either.

I've just been at home, mostly.

Cleaning.
Organizing.
Sorting.
Purging.

As if my life depended on it.
I think maybe it did, actually....

We had family come visit from TX and then we had more family visit from WV.

It was good to see them--to channel all of my focus into the craziness that goes along with prepping for house-guests.

With everything clean and no more guests on the docket until Christmas, I'm kinda at a loss as to what to do with myself.

I don't want to be sad and depressed, but I am.

Some days, I think that I'm doing great, but then if I stop and take in the quiet, I know that I'm not.

Whenever I pass a pregnant belly, I feel the distinct barrenness of my own. 


Doesn't that sound so tragically melodramatic?
Uggh. It sooooo does.
But there really isn't an apter way to describe it.

This was the most drawn-out miscarriage I've had yet.
Awesome, I know.

I just. kept. bleeding.
My hormone levels would NOT go down.

To say that it sucked would be missing the point entirely.

I wasn't in the clear until about 2 weeks ago...
I'm so glad it's fucking over.

In related, news, I think I need to up the dosage on my meds...

Sigh.


The Huz is still unemployed, and we've had to do all kinds of battle with unemployment--to the degree that we have a court hearing with them on the 14th, BUT, he had a very positive interview yesterday, and he'll have his final interview with the company next week, so we've got our fingers crossed extra tight.

My little baby is almost 2.
WTF, people?
Isn't my section scar still healing?

How did this happen?
Yes, I want him to grow up and develop healthily and blah, blah, blah, but 2? Already?
It's almost too much.

He says his ABCs and their phonetic sounds, he counts to 10 forward and backwards (we've almost got 11-20 down), he knows his letters and numbers in and out of context, he's pretty much got all his basic colors, and if you ask him his name he spells it out for you. His vocab has finally exploded, and he says about 100 words.
But his most phenomenal development?

He says Mama! 
Loudly and with glee!

Yes. I'm being proud and braggy.
No. I am not sorry.
Ha!

I'm taking the easy way out on his birthday party this year and having it somewhere else, where they provide everything.  He loves it there, so I don't feel guilty about it.

We're having his party early too, because of my IL's travel schedule, so I need to start working on invites...
Yikes.

The Huz and I are trying to come up with a solid 5 year plan, but so far it's still just a title on the chalkboard.
I don't know if y'all knew this, but as it turns out, 5 year plans require funding....a baseline budget to formulate said plan around.

Who'da thunk, huh?

Since we can't do much more than we're already doing about that, we're trying to channel our energies into more procreative, errr, I mean productive activities by trying to revive our deathbed of a sex life.

If you would have told me when we first started  our sex life together that by the time we hit 30 it would be all kinds of  flat-lining, I would have laughed at you.

Sure, things may slow a bit, but dead?
Nay!

But then things like living with your ILs and crumbling economics and children and miscarriages and stress come into play....

All of the sudden, the only reason you'd blow someone is if they agreed put away the laundry and take the baby for the day so you could nap, and even then you're not so sure because no one puts the laundry away correctly but you anyhow...

Am I right?

I sooooo am, kids. Take heed, young'uns!


It's hard getting back into sexy mode.
I am not sexy.
I am exhausted and covered in applesauce.

My husband is stressed and his shoulder hurts from wrestling with O.

Passionate Naked Time, this does not make.

But we are trying to work it!!

We used to be hot, damn it!
(Well, my hubs is still pretty sexy, actually.)


In an effort to be a team player, I even put my barbells in.
I took them out when O was born because I wanted to breastfeed, but we all remember how WELL that went....

You should have seen my DH's face.
It was like a kid on Christmas morning.

Thank G-d love is blind.

Also?

I'm thinking about getting bangs.


What? 

I like to end on a thoughtful note....

Bangs? Yea or Nay? And have you ever seen such an ADORABLE genius? I think not!

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.

I am a Survivor who is still trying to Survive.

 May is Mental Health Month.

Mental Health Issues are often treated like dirty secrets.
Something that happens to "others."
People turn the other way.
"Mental Health" does not apply to them. They are not affected.


It affects us all. 
Directly or Indirectly.
Daily.
Sometimes? Hourly.



I am a Woman
I am a Wife
I am a Mother
 I am a Sister
I am a Daughter
I am a Friend
I am a Human Being
I am someone you know.

 My Name is Jayne.

I am the face of Depression. Of Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Of PTSD.

I am a survivor of Physical/Emotional/Sexual Abuse.
Of Rape.
 Of Miscarriages.
Of Chronic Illness.

I work everyday to keep on surviving.



Link up with  Band Back Together today and share your Story.
Show your support.

Do not be ashamed--do not hide. Do not turn away.

We need to lift up those in need and make EVERYONE AWARE.

I Could have been...No, I AM.

Mother's Day has always been tough for me....

As a kid, I always hoped that Mother's day would be the day that my mom would see how much I loved her, and then she would like me.

Sometimes, briefly, I seemed to be successful, but it never lasted.

It was never enough.

As soon as I came of the age where I saw children in my future, Mother's Day was filled with anticipation...
Someday, I will be a mother.
Someday, I will treasure mementos of my own.
Someday, my children will know I like them.

After my first miscarriage, Mother's Day was just a reminder of nightmares.

I never really talked about it, because it was something that for a long time, I didn't share...
 Alone in grief that even those closest to me didn't understand. 

In 2006, when I had another miscarriage, I lost hope.

I could have been a mother, but I never would be.

The following Mother's Days were filled with tears and feeling of uselessness.

A mother without children, that was me.

When I got pregnant with O, I was terrified.  At my first ultrasound, I was told that the pregnancy would probably not be viable.

Bereft didn't begin to cover it....

But I KNEW he was there.
We were going to have this baby.
I would not lose another...
(as if I have that kind of control, but hormones make you cuhraaaazzzy)

Two weeks later, at a follow-up appt., he showed up as strong as could be!

Mother's Day 2009 was amazing.
My husband showered me with gifts and affection.
Friends sent notes...
My Mother's Days had finally began!

Then someone laughed at me and said:

You're not a Mother yet! Next year, you can celebrate Mother's Day!

An unintentionally cruel blow...
Not a mother? But I've waited so long!

I found myself thinking about that comment as I woke up this last Sunday to celebrate with my boys...


It found myself all unsettled by that comment once again.
Why should it EVEN MATTER now?



Wait a FUCKING MINUTE.

I was a Mother, thank you.

There was a child growing in my belly that I loved more than life itself.
I was that child's Mother.
I would learn to be a Parent, but was already a Mother.

Which made me realize that all of the years I had spent passing each M Day, mourning my miscarriages, saying:

I could have been a Mother...

I already was.

Each pregnancy, to me, was a child I lost.
Even though our time together was short,

There were children growing in my belly that I loved more than life itself.
I was each child's Mother.
I never got to be their parent, but I was already their Mother.

That has helped me.
Helped me to feel less weak and foolish in my grief.

It has made the Mother's Days with my son all the more meaningful.

I've had two Mother's Days with my beautiful son.
And six others, with the children I lost before that.

Those days matter.
I was a mother.
I am a Mother.

I hope all my fellow Mamas got the love, support and Respect they so deserved this Mother's Day.


My day was lovely.

My beautiful Bubu!

How CUTE is the Huz?

He said NAY! to smiling...

Happy-faced Mama.




p://th

You kinda never forget.

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

So many people in my life have lost a child(ren), through miscarriage, SIDS, and stillbirth, and it's so important to remember those losses and honor those children.

I know that it's not a comfortable subject for a lot of people, but it's a real one that families (especially the mothers) deal with every day.

No matter what others may believe, no matter how early (or late) the loss was, to the mother, he/she was a baby.  

Their baby.

But because the people in their lives often want them to move on and (with the best intentions) forget, it is a pain that gets bottled up for fear of upsetting others.

If you know someone who has suffered this loss, send them some love.

If you've lost, my heart is with you.


My first child would have been born on March 9th, 2004
We said good bye at 12 weeks.

My second child would have been born on April 16th, 2007
We said good bye at 6 weeks.

They would have been six and a half and three and a half.

I never really got to know them, but I love and still miss them.

Every day.

Sometimes it's fleeting, and sometimes it's overwhelming.


My son has served as both a salve and a reminder.

A beautiful thing.

He cannot replace the children I lost (yet he fills my heart with so much joy and gratitude for his gorgeous little face), but he can remind me to never forget the miracles that they were.



In remembrance of those that have lost, please light a candle tonight at 7pm.

A bunch of a lotta things. And then more.

Note: I started this blog yesterday

I try to keep these posts as cohesive as possible, so that I don't ramble like a lunatic, but there's a ton of thoughts and emotions swimming around in the ol' noodle today, So we'll see what happens...

Maybe I'll break this up into two posts. I'm not sure if I can tie everything together.

Anyway-

Life is so freaking unpredictable, fragile, unknown, what-have-you.

I sit here 7 months pregnant, so in love with my son it HURTS.

8 months ago, I was seriously trying to wrap my head around not having children entirely.

Craziness.

A girl I know (I guess I shouldn't say girl, she is only 4 or 5 years younger than me), just found out that she is pregnant, and has elected to have an abortion. This just absolutely breaks my heart. As liberal as I am, I do not believe in abortion. I don't support banning it either. Politically, that is all I will say.

This is personal to me, and my heart, but do I have the right to say what choices other women should make? No, probably not. That doesn't meant that I don't wish that they would make different ones.

This is technically my third pregnancy. The first one was as the result of a sexual assault. While a lot of people would have totally understood if I decided not to keep it, that was never an option for me. Unfortunately, at a little past 3 months, I miscarried. I was devastated. Years later, it still hurts. The next one, was mercifully lost early rather than later, at about 6-7 weeks, but again, I mourn for that child as well.

Even though they were not even close to term, to me, they were already mine.

There are those who make the distinction between an "embryo" and a "fetus".

I'm not saying that is right or wrong, but for me, there is no such line.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant each time, it was my baby, my child.

I cannot fathom letting any one of them go willfully. Everyday that my that my son grows, the more I am reminded of what I lost, what could have been, and how awe-inspiring this whole process is....

{It was at this point that I had to stop writing last night, because I just LOST IT}

Today:


She's scheduled to have the abortion today. My heart is just sick. I'm not judging her, I just feel so sorry for her. Disappointed that she feels like this is her only or best option.

It's terrifying, being pregnant and alone. There is the instinct to want to make it all go away, but it doesn't. Having never had an abortion, I can't really say that with any absolute authority, but every woman I know that has had one (and sadly, I've known several)has regretted it, and spent the rest of their lives being haunted by it.

I still carry a lot of guilt for the miscarriages, so I can't imagine what it's like to be on that other side.

I hope she changes her mind. Perhaps that is selfishness on my part, but I just can't help but think of all of the people in my life who a desperately trying to have children, and how many more families out there who are trying to adopt, and it just seems so needless.

But life is never simple is it?

She will do what she feels is the right thing, and it's not my call.

And I better just end it here. I'm getting all weepy again.