2018

As I type this post, I'm feeling this baby kick around in my abdomen and am thrilled to finally be feeling little pops and flutters on and off throughout the day and night.  What a difference a few weeks makes in terms of feeling less unsettled now that I can feel movement.

We took down our Christmas tree yesterday and B went back to school today (she was jumping up and down with excitement about seeing her teachers and being back in the classroom).  This past month was both magical and exhausting -- emotionally and physically.  Christmas and the New Year will always make me think of Q and I can't help but replay Christmas 2013 when I was in incredible pain and ultimately Q died on December 28th.  I spent New Year's Eve in the ICU awaiting another surgery and finally delivered Q on January 3rd.  B brings so much joy this time of year and it is truly such a gift to watch and help her enjoy the holidays so much, but I do think a lot about the what could have been and worry about this baby growing inside of me.

I'm 23 weeks pregnant now and officially have less than 4 months until this little one arrives.  I'll have my next check up in a week, including an ultrasound, and I'm so excited to see how this baby is growing.  We also celebrated B's birthday on the 28th, which was so much fun.  I threw a small party at home with two of her friends, my parents, and her former nanny, who she adores and happens to share her birthday.  It was actually fun and the perfect size and I could tell that B just felt so special having a party just for her.  This pregnancy has absolutely kicked my butt in terms of exhaustion, but I'm glad I rallied and made a cake, decorated the house, and really celebrated B's birthday, which admittedly was hard for me to do on the heels of hosting Christmas.

I feel as though I should have more profound thoughts to share on this 4th anniversary of losing our beloved Quinn, but they are escaping me. It's not for a lack of her being in my thoughts, but more that I can't seem to capture what I'm feeling in the midst of the holidays, B's birthday, and this pregnancy. I think of her most often in the rare quiet moments I have alone - when I awake in the pre-dawn hours and let my mind wander, when I'm driving somewhere alone, or at night when I should be asleep and find myself thinking of her and imaging what she would be like at 4.  Four.  How is that possible?

Separately, the NYT had a piece two weeks ago entitled When a Grieving Mother Talks, Listen that I highly recommend.

Do you set New Year's Resolutions?  I'm a huge fan and have set them for as long as I can remember. This year, in addition to setting resolutions, I'm declaring "positivity" as my word for 2018.  This idea came from one of my class instructors at Fierce45 and it really resonated with how I'm feeling these days.  This will be my last pregnancy and I can't wait to meet this baby.  I don't want to spend the next 4 months worrying so while I know I will worry, I'm going to try my best to generally be positive.  The word applies to every aspect of my life, but I need the most work in the pregnancy/baby department.  Does anyone else do this?  Apparently My One Word is a thing!

Happy New Year. 

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Meet Me Halfway

19 weeks!

Technically, I won't be 20 weeks until next Monday, but for me 19 weeks marks halfway through this pregnancy as my high-risk OB informed me at our mid-pregnancy anatomy scan that she wants to schedule a c-section for sometime between 37 and 38 weeks.  So there you have it, friends.  Fingers and legs (and toes and everything else) crossed, we'll meet this baby, boy or girl, in mid-April.

Suddenly, this pregnancy feels very real.  Somewhere around week 18 I popped and now it is quite tricky to hide the bump.  I finally told the head fo my new law firm and while I haven't told my other co-workers, I'm no longer avoiding maternity clothes and fitted tops at work.  The best thing is that I am feeling this baby move!  Despite having an anterior placenta, which makes it more difficult to detect movement, I'm definitely feeling it, especially when I lay down at night to read.  I'm excited for a few weeks from now when the movements are strong enough that R and B will be able to feel them as well.

Telling my boss was interesting and went about as well as I could expect.  Keep in mind that I have only been at this job for 6 weeks, so obviously I was pregnant when I accepted and started.  I decided to be direct: "I'm pregnant.  I wanted to tell you when I joined (which is true), but this is actually my fifth pregnancy and given the fact that pregnancy has often not ended well for us, I wasn't ready to tell you or anyone else when I accepted the job."  It went something like that.  He was wonderful about it -- he has five (!) daughters and was just so happy that we were having another kid and was just great about it.  The whole conversation was a huge relief and I felt so much better about everything at work afterward.

Oh, and our mid-pregnancy anatomy scan looked great.  Baby was moving around like crazy, everything was measuring on track, and he or she has all of the organs you'd expect to see.  We breathed a big sigh of relief.

This little girl's happiness related to all things Christmas is infectious

And here we are in December.  The tricky thing is that everything about this pregnancy reminds me of being pregnant with Q (Baby L - it's confusing, her name starts with Q, but L, which stands for Lemon, was her nickname throughout my pregnancy).  Q was due in early April.  She died on December 30th.  And going into the holidays, I felt great... until I didn't.  Christmas of that year was awful, including a Christmas Eve phone call to the emergency line at my doctor's office, no sleep, and being so uncomfortable I couldn't even walk a hundred yards.  Whenever I think about that Christmas, I get furious at myself for not trusting my instincts, knowing something was wrong, and driving myself to the ER.  So even though I am being closely monitored and I'm taking tons of Lovenox so getting a blood clot is virtually impossible, I'm just anxious about letting my guard down and letting myself get excited -- even know I rationally know this a different pregnancy.   Don't get me wrong - I am just thrilled about this baby and I have moments of being incredibly optimistic and imagining Rob putting this baby in my arms in April and telling me whether it is a boy or girl... but those moments are always tempered by thoughts of cord accidents and blood clots and unexplained late term losses.  Every time a pregnant woman tells me she feels great now that she is 26 weeks along and the baby will be fine no matter what, I have to bite my tongue not to tell them that isn't true.   I know these feelings are exacerbated because we are fast-approaching B's 3rd birthday, which is followed 2 days later by the anniversary of Q's death.  She would be 4.  FOUR.  How is that possible?  What would she be like?  I so desperately wish that I knew.

What is keeping me from a downward spiral of sadness and introspection on this topic is the fact that B is giddy about Christmas and her impending birthday.  Each morning we go downstairs and check the advent calendar for a little treat for her.  We've talked about the cupcakes she'll take to school for her birthday and I mailed invitations to her (very small) party yesterday.  Her joy for this season is contagious and I'm trying to stay present in that feeling instead of the others, although I will make space for the sadness this month, too. I always do.

I'm thinking of all of you who have lost babies this month and sending lots of love.  And I'm giving B extra snuggles and kisses and love because I am able to --- and how lucky am I for that?

16 Weeks

Earlier this week, I had a quick heartbeat check with my OB.  Baby's heartbeat was beating away at 143 bpm and today I'm 16 weeks and three days along.  Last week I went in for a blood draw and the sonographer, who is a friend and the sweetest lady, saw me in the hall and asked if I wanted to take a peek at baby.  Umm, yes please!  I never turn down an opportunity to see him or her wiggling around.

All looked good in the ultrasound and we checked out the brain and the spine, looked for fingers and toes, and just watched baby move around a bit. I'm anxious to feel those first movements.  Sometimes I think I've felt something, but it is just too early to be sure and I have an anterior placenta again, which makes movements even more subtle at this early stage.

I've been feeling quite calm thus far, but this week I've had thoughts creeping in about all of the issues that can arise in the remainder of this pregnancy. I know this isn't healthy and I try to push them out of my mind, but as I creep closer to the time when we lost Baby L, I am reminded of what can happen.  The urge to relax and enjoy the pregnancy is there, but so is the underlying knowledge of how quickly everything can go awry.

Otherwise, I'm feeling good, sleeping well, and really just still feeling utterly exhausted but otherwise fine.  I swam for the first time in months earlier this week and it felt incredible. I need to get back into a swimming routine, especially as I get bigger.  The Lovenox is going well.  We check my AntiXA level once each month and so far it has been right in range and I've avoided bumping up (at this point in my pregnancy with Baby B I had already bumped up a dose).  I'm so used to giving myself shots twice each day that I give it relatively little thought at this point.

I'm wrapping up my third week of work at my new job. So far, it is as promised and I've been working from home two days each week and arriving into the office at 9:30 AM and departing by 3:45 or 4 PM the other three days.  It's been manageable and, frankly, enjoyable and I feel like it strikes the right balance between engaging and still allowing me to have time at home, with B and R, etc.  I still haven't told them that I'm pregnant - I've been wearing regular clothes and if something is fitted at the waist, I just wear a vest over it (the office is cold anyway) and I don't think you can tell.  I have another appointment after Thanksgiving and plan to tell them if all goes well.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  This may be the most boring update I've ever written.  I'll close by noting that I have a lot to be thankful for this year.

It's an Epidemic

Eight people in the last week have either (a) given birth to a second or third baby when their previous child is younger than B or (b) told me they are expecting a second or third baby when their previous child is younger than B.  One friend is unexpectedly having twins.

Now I know I'm on this grand year-off adventure, which is supposed to make me calm and Zen, but SERIOUSLY WTF.  It's an epidemic.

Forgive me.  I know this is irrational.  I know other people's pregnancies in no way relate to mine.  I know I should be happy for each and every one of them (and I am... deep down....), but it's been crushing my spirit a bit this week as I feel like I am just being passed left and right by people who are so easily getting what I want.  And of course I mark each birth and month with where I would be if I hadn't had two miscarriages.  #3 would be four months old.  I'd be about 20 weeks pregnant with #4.  Everywhere we travel, I see families with two or three children and one of them is about B's age and there is always a younger one.

The thing is, I really do not want to feel this way.  I'd like to be present in the moment and on this trip all the time.  And when I'm not, I'd like it to be because I'm doing something constructive like reading, blogging, exercising, or listening to a podcast.  I don't want it to be because I'm stewing and being jealous of people I don't even know and whose ability to pop out babies left and right is wholly irrelevant in my life.

I went so far as to write down grievances I've been holding onto and to make a few wishes using Flying Wish Paper as recommended by Gretchen Rubin on the Happier podcast (which I adore and highly recommend).  It helped for a few hours, but this morning the feelings crept up on me, especially after seeing on Instagram that a friend had a baby and I didn't even know she was pregnant again!

Apologies, I'm just venting.  I *know* I have so much for which I should be (and am) grateful.  But I also think that part of letting go of these feelings is owning them and admitting they exist.  I don't always feel great.  I sometimes resent and am jealous of people in a ridiculous way.  And I feel extra guilty for feeling this way because I know my pre-B self, who was consumed by grief and fear of never having a child, would hate this post-B self for wallowing and being jealous considering I have a spunky, smart, fun, joyful toddler to chase after day in and day out.

That's all.

If anyone has any ideas for me, I'd love to hear them.

An Update from the Southern Hemisphere

Wow, I've been terrible about blogging.  I have been writing on my other blog, but I've been preoccupied with traveling and having fun.

Mercifully, the day after my doctor's appointment, my body started to miscarry on its own (I started bleeding).  It was as if my body had known for weeks but my mind was clinging to the pregnancy. Once I let go of it in my head, my body followed.  I took Cytotec anyway and it was a pretty easy process albeit uncomfortable as many of you unfortunately know.

5 weeks later, I have just had my first cycle since the miscarriage.  I haven't had any menopausal symptoms this time around for which I am eternally grateful and I haven't fallen into a depression like I did last spring.   Part of it is certainly that I have learned to manage my expectations a bit but more so I think it is just that I refuse to let this ruin our trip.  We had an incredible time in Hawaii, fell in love with Sydney, and are having the best time exploring New Zealand.  My health is good all things considered and I love spending time with R & B.  Am I incredibly sad and disappointed?  Of course.  But I won't let it swallow me whole this time around.

So, that's the update from here.  My OB did write me another prescription for Clomid before I left Hawaii and I filled it, but I don't plan on taking it right away.  I'm going to see what happens the next few cycles and try not to focus too much on trying to get pregnant.   I feel more resigned than ever to not having another baby.

I did read a fascinating NY Times article today about stillbirth and three tests that can help determine the cause in many cases: placental examination, fetal autopsy, and genetic testing.  We had all three of these done on Q and the placental examination did tell us what happened to her although we still don't know why.  In any event, an interesting read for those of us who have experienced stillbirth (at least I find myself wanting to read and know everything about it).

You all are still very much in my thoughts, I'm just not at a computer very often (which is the whole point of this trip).

Another Day, Another Miscarriage

I'm right back where I was last spring, just four weeks farther along than last time.  Yesterday we saw an OB in Kauai and the baby hadn't grown since six weeks and three days and there was no longer a heartbeat.  R & B were there with and just looking over at them and seeing B smile at me and give me a big hug made the whole situation survivable, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't devastated, disappointed, sad, and, frankly, really f-ing angry.  I would just rather not repeatedly get pregnant only to find out the pregnancy isn't viable, and this one feels worse because we saw a heartbeat and I'm now 10+ weeks with *no* signs of miscarriage.  In fact, my HCG yesterday was 25,000 so clearly my body has not yet caught on.

Given how high my HCG is, the OB here wants me to come back in for a scan with their radiology department (better equipment) to confirm it isn't a molar pregnancy.  My Colorado OB (with whom I've spoken several times) thinks this is highly unlikely, but of course I'm going to go in to confirm.

Most of all, I feel foolish.  Foolish for getting my hopes up, foolish for thinking this was our second rainbow baby, imagining flying home mid-summer instead of next winter so that I could have this baby at home, worrying about the logistics of getting meds, etc.  None of it matters and why haven't I learned my lesson about thinking things will work out?

I am, of course, already thinking about what is next.  I'll take misoprostol again to induce bleeding so that everything can be "take care of" before we leave the U.S. (on February 12th).  And then what?  I know in my heart I'm not done - I want to have another baby.  But I am beginning to wonder if that is wise.  I'm 36 years old.  I have POF.  I now have a history of recurrent miscarriages, presumably due to chromosomal abnormalities.  I have complicated pregnancies.  I keep thinking: "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me."

One silver lining to all of this is that, so far, I feel much better emotionally than I did last spring.  Even with getting my hopes up, I knew better than to tell many people, make plans, or really give this pregnancy much credence.  I don't know if that is helping or the fact that I'm with my family in Hawaii but I don't feel the darkness overwhelming me like I did last spring.  Who knows?  It's too soon to tell how I'll feel in a few days, but I'm trying to keep perspective and stay as positive as possible.

So that's the (depressing, frustrating, infuriating, disappointing) update from here.

Grieving

A double rainbow with my rainbow baby beneath.  I'm choosing to see this as a good sign.

We have a lot going on over the past two weeks, much of it wonderful.  We celebrated Christmas (it's difficult to believe that was just two weeks ago), B's birthday, and the New Year, we packed up our house and moved out, moved our cat to my parent's, and left the mainland for Hawaii.  In the midst of all of the good, there is the anxiety that comes with early pregnancy and all of the thoughts that are always in the back of my mind but are front of mind this time of year on the anniversary of Q's death and the day I gave birth to her (Was she "born"? What is the the right word?).  I thought constantly about Q over the past few weeks and reflected a lot on everything that has happened since December 2013.  We didn't have the opportunity to do anything in particular to memorialize the day other than to light a candle and talk about her and what happened (and to think about how lucky we are to have B), but I feel the heaviness of the season even here in Hawaii.

"The Japanese Art of Grieving a Miscarriage" appeared in the NY Times this week and I love that the culture embraces and encourages publicly honoring babies who are never born.  I'm going to keep my eyes open for a Jizo when we are in Japan and try to bring one home to honor both Q and the little baby we lost this spring.  There is something so comforting about an object -- when Q died, the hospital gave us a box and inside was a tiny bear.  It isn't anything special, but I have slept with it every night since we left the hospital.

I've been particularly upset this week about some favorite bloggers (who I do not know personally) who just lost their son who was born prematurely.  Their grief and sadness and loss is so palpable in the photos and how courageous of them to share something so personal.  For whatever reason -- this time of year, being pregnant and emotional, or just the fact that their situation is heartbreaking -- I find what they are going through so upsetting and I wish I could reach out to them.  I have no idea what I'd say, but I just want them to know they aren't alone.

All of this just serves to remind me that, three years out from losing Q, I still acutely feel her absence and it is front of mind, more so in December and January than is typical.  And even in the midst of an exciting adventure and the possibility of another life, I'm grieving.  Still.

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I did find an OB in Kauai and have an appointment at the end of the month.  They have no perinatologist or MFM on the island and they don't do "level 2" ultrasounds as they called it (e.g., the 12-week anatomy scan) so I'm going around 10 weeks for another ultrasound and the Progenity chromosomal test.  If I need additional monitoring or testing, we'll spend a night on Oahu before we head to Sydney.  At this stage with Baby B, I had weekly ultrasounds (for my peace of mind). I'm trying my best to be Zen about this -- what will be, will be.

October: Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month

As many of you know, October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  Outside of this space, I've been relatively quiet on this topic, but I recently decided it was time to talk more openly about it, including on my other blog.  I just published this post and wanted to share it here, too.

I'm holding you all and your babies in my heart today (and always).

September, Sadness, and A Year of Travel

It's been six weeks since my last post and there has been a lot going on.  Frankly, there has been so much going on in our lives that I haven't had much time to dwell on my wacky cycles and getting pregnant and it has been a welcome break from the subject.  To briefly mention it, I've had two more cycles, one that was 35 days and one that was 19.  I don't think I ovulated either cycle.  C'est la vie.  I feel fine and haven't been having any menopausal symptoms, so I'l take it.

Two things have dominated my life in the last few weeks:

First, my best friend died.  I don't know how to share this news without being blunt.  In a period of my life that seems to be marked by grief (as well as by extreme joy), this is yet another example of how life can be so incredibly cruel.  At the same time, her death is a reminder to live each day to the fullest.  Each night when I read to B and rock her to sleep, I smell her head, kiss her cheeks, and tell her how much I love her and relish those moments because Chelsey doesn't get to do that to her little ones anymore. It breaks my heart.  She was the first person with whom I shared my infertility news, the first person at my side after Quinn died, the only person other than Rob who attended ultrasounds during my pregnancy with Blythe, and the friend I visited for coffee immediately after my miscarriage this spring.  We've been through so much together and I don't quite know how I'll get through more without her.  But I know I will because she was the toughest lady that I know and I'll use that as my inspiration.

I'm not particularly religious.  At times like this, I really wish that I were.  Chelsey's father passed away a year to the day before Quinn.  She always talked to me about how Quinn was in heaven with her Dad and he was talking the best care of her for me.  When I got pregnant this spring again, she said "thanks, Dad and Quinn, for sending Darcy another baby."  And now the only comforting thought I have about Chelsey is that she is with her Dad (who she missed dearly) and with Quinn.  I know she believed that she would be, so I'm going to believe it, too.

This photo is of me and Chelsey after our marathon in June (I'm on the right).  She was the kind of friend who would agree to run a marathon in 6 weeks because you had a miscarriage and need something to work toward.  This won't be the last time I mention her on this blog, but that's all I can say for now.  I miss her dearly and keep waiting for her to text me about our next long run or dinner with the kiddos.

Second, we have made a momentous decision: we are taking 2017 as a year to travel.  We have booked tickets, departing January 2nd, for Kauai.  From there, we'll head to New Zealand and Japan and then to Europe.  It's a crazy decision, but it felt like the right time for both me and R in terms of work.  I'm desperate to spend more time with B and with R.  It's been a tough couple of years and it will do us some good to relax, travel, spend time together, and just enjoy life.  We aren't putting ourselves in any financial hardship by doing this trip and we are so excited.

Given that we are all acquaintances via the Internet, this probably sounds insane and like something I'm making up.  I'm really not.  I will be blogging about the trip on my regular blog, which you are all welcome to follow (although we aren't leaving until January): www.darcyeden.com.  I just ask that you please respect the fact that I talk about Q and infertility in a very different way in that space (which is not very much - I'm not ready) and REALLY do not want this space revealed on that site.

It's hard to be joyous about this adventure giving Chelsey's death.  It's actually astonishing to me how differently I'm experiencing grief about Chelsey as compared to Q, but I think that is a topic for another post.  I haven't wrapped my head around it yet.

Hug your husband, wife, partner, parents, family, littles, etc. extra tight.

Crickets

I've been quiet over here for the last six weeks.  April was a very hard month for me.  I foolishly thought I would just bounce back from the miscarriage and feel like myself again right away, which proved to be the exact opposite of what happened.  Despite doing everything I could think of for self care (running, pilates, sleep, acupuncture, a weekend away), for the first time I felt like I was truly depressed.  After we lost Q, I wasn't depressed - I was devastated and grieving and angry.  I'm sure under all of those emotions, I was depressed, but this felt different.  It was just like there was a dark cloud hanging over my head that I couldn't push away no matter what.

To make matters worse, I've been having hot flashes.

A likely outcome of having premature ovarian failure and diminished ovarian reserve is that I will go through menopause much earlier than most women.  Thus, the hot flashes have been absolutely freaking me out.  I have been scared to tell anyone because I sometimes feel (even though it is nonsensical and absurd) that if I say out loud "I am having hot flashes" it somehow will make it more true than the physical discomfort of heat creeping up my body.  Ha. 

I finally went to my OB last week.  I told her about the hot flashes and about how I've been feeling. She prescribed Zoloft (more on that later) and we discussed the hot flashes.  They could mean I am in perimenopause or they could be related to my hormones being out of whack post-miscarriage.  I still haven't had a period following the miscarriage (8 weeks), so I'm taking Provera to force my body to have one.  

Needless to say, I'm feeling totally unlike myself and like things are totally out of control as it relates to my body and fertility.  That said, just having the Zoloft at home has made me feel better - like knowing I could take it has made me feel better.  I've felt more like myself this week than I have in ages.

As part of trying to feel better, I dialed it back on blogging and reading blogs.  I have relied on this community so much in the past few years, but sometimes I go down the rabbit hole of re-reading people's stories of loss and infertility and it just sucks me in.  And when I'm already feeling so overwhelmingly sad and gloomy, I've been trying to avoid making it worse.  

Thanks to those of you who are still reading and many of you who I know understand.

It's Official

At our ultrasound on Monday, we learned that the baby hadn't grown at all.  It was the news I was expecting, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow.  We talked through options (wait to miscarry naturally, take Cytotec at home, or have a D&C) and I kept everything together at my doctor's office.

B and I had her first swimming lesson of the new session that afternoon and had so much fun.  She loves the water and it was just what I needed for us to play together and laugh and for me to be reminded of everything I do have.  

I didn't lose it until I was putting B to bed.  We always read in the glider and then I rock her while she has milk and I sing.  And man, are there any lullabies that aren't sad to begin with and even worse when you are struggling and emotional?  I basically sobbed my way through her bedtime and for the following hour... and then I swallowed 4 Cytotec and the waiting began.

Unfortunately, the Cytotec hasn't worked at all, so I stayed home from work and wore a bulky pad (ha) all day for nothing. I'm starting round #2 tonight and I really hope it works this time.  My OB would really like for me to avoid having a D&C and I really would rather not as well.

Now that we have a path forward, I feel much better about the state of things.  I obviously wished the outcome was different, but I know that something was wrong and am relieved that any difficult decisions that could have arisen weeks from now are out of my hands.

So, that's my update.  Life goes on.  I'm scheduling fun activities and a date night for the weekend and hoping that I've made some progress by then.  Thank you all for your support, it means so much.

Love You Forever

Have you all read the book "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch?  We have a copy and it is one of those books that I read when I need a good cry and otherwise don't because it is a reminder of our mortality and how quickly these little kiddos grow up.

What I didn't know until this communication from Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep was that the author wrote the book about his two stillborn babies.  The verse that is repeated is actually a song:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

as long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

I'm feeling extra emotional today, but this song and this book tug at my heartstrings and I feel so sad for the author and his two babies.  A company called Little Orchard Co. in Canada has started the "Love You Forever Project," which includes a line of t-shirts and onesies using a line from this book: "love you forever."  Proceeds from the sale of the clothes go to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.  From Little Orchard's website, they say the following about the Project:

This tee was inspired by my sister who lost both her precious son and daughter within 10 months. Until that happened, I didn't know much about stillbirth and infant loss.  This tee is meant to bring awareness to the issue of stillbirth and infant loss. To the army of warrior parents, grandparents and family members, who have lost their precious children, I hope it will start conversation, acknowledge stories, and inspire.  This tee was created for every person who has loved a child. Whether it was just 2 lines on a pregnancy test, whether it was before 40 weeks, whether they took them home from the hospital or not, whether they hold them in their arms, or only in their heart.

Beta #2 & Luck?

Phew.  Another deep breath over here.  My second beta came back at 151.  I'll wait now until what should be the 6 week mark and have an ultrasound to see if there is a heartbeat and things are developing appropriately.

I have a dear friend who went through years of struggling to get pregnant and is about to have her second baby thanks to IVF.  We have been a constant source of support for one another over the last 3 years with our various struggles.  She said to me the other day that she thinks I might be one of the most fertile of her friends.  She and I are very close and I know she didn't mean anything negative about what she said, but the comment has been repeating in my head since she made it.  And it makes me feel guilty.

R and I tried for almost a year to get pregnant the first time, and in the middle of that year I found out that I have Premature Ovarian Failure (POF) (now they call it Primary Ovarian Insufficiency, but once someone tells you that you have a condition with the word "failure" in it, it tends to stick with you).  I was told verbatim that we were "never going to have a child using my eggs."  My own OB (who I consider a dear friend at this point) told me that I should use donor eggs. Everything was so incredibly grim, as many of you can relate.  And then it got worse after I had my surprise pregnancy with Q and we lost her.  I thought I had already hit rock bottom when we got the infertility news, but little did I know...

And then we got lucky again.

But here's the thing... I don't know how much this helps/matters, but the first two times I got pregnant, I had an ultrasound (coincidentally) the day I was about to ovulate. I happen to have gone in for ultrasounds for another reason (in both cases b/c I was having an extremely long cycle and we were seeing if I had a cyst or some other issue), only to see an ovary entirely covered by an egg.  Both times the sonographer and doctor said it could be an egg or it could be a cyst, but if an egg I was about to ovulate, so it was time to "get busy."  So, yes, I've been pregnant twice without intervention, but I did have really good intel as to timing intercourse, not to mention doing acupuncture, taking supplements, having changed my diet, etc.

I didn't have an ultrasound recently, but I have been tracking my cycles, taking DHEA and various other supplements, and generally being healthy with exercise, eating right, and not drinking.  And I have been getting my period since November so it has been almost six months.

I'm being incredibly inarticulate, but somehow I'm feeling guilty about her comment and generally about writing a blog about infertility and loss when I've now had 3 BFPs. Sure, I have only one living child right now (and now the hope for one more) and certainly we've been through the ringer, but I can think back to how I felt 3 years ago when I got the POF diagnosis and how hopeless I felt and I think I might have been totally irked if I read my own blog at that time.  Either that, or it might inspire hope, which I hope is the case.

Regardless, I just want to say that despite losing Q and struggling through the devastation that is having a stillborn child, I do feel lucky that we got pregnant again, against all odds.  Please don't think that for one second I forget how fortunate I am and how grateful I am for our little B.

My ultrasound is scheduled for March 28th.  Fingers (and legs) are crossed.

A Follow Up on Regrets

Dearest friends - I want to thank all of you so very much who commented on my post about Regrets.  This community that I've become a part of means more to me than perhaps you all know (although I suspect you all feel the same way).  Thank you, thank you.  R is out of town for work this week and I've been quite sad and you all just made me feel like I wasn't alone.

Reading your comments made me think of a few things about which I don't have regrets or which worked out better than I could have expected.  Part of it was people around us knowing better than we do about what we might need or want in the coming days, weeks, or months.  I'm eternally grateful for the doctors and nurses who guided us and told us what we probably would want when we were so unsure of how to proceed.

And before I detail what I'm glad we DID do, a disclaimer: everyone makes their own choices and each is right in that moment and right for that situation and family.  Please, please, please don't misinterpret any of my comments about what we did or didn't do as judgment. It isn't.  These are just the decisions that R and I made.

First, photos.  We asked to not have photos taken.  We don't have any photos of the three of us - as a family - which breaks my heart.  But we have quite a few that a photographer took of Q when she wasn't with us.  I didn't even know they took photos of her, but when we checked out of the hospital, they gave us a box of mementos with her footprint on top, and inside was a CD of photos, as well as a few that were printed.  I'll confess that I don't look at them often, but when I do I am SO glad I have them.

Second, we held Q.  You all know I wish I had done more (hold her longer, bathe her, etc.), but we did hold her.  When we initially found out that Q died, we told our doctor we didn't want to hold her, but she talked to us about it more and suggested we reconsider, which we did.  I'm thankful for her guidance and persistence.

Third, we also weren't sure what to do with Q when we left the hospital.  That probably sounds unloving, but we just didn't know.  Would we have a service?  What kind?  When?  We initially were not going to do anything, but the hospital gives you 30 days to change your mind.  Thank God.  We called back a week later and asked to have Q cremated.  We have yet to do anything with her ashes, but we will when we decide what is right.  I'm so glad I didn't leave her at the hospital.  We planned to do something just the two of us on the anniversary of Q's death, but Baby B was 2 days old and we were still in the hospital.  And now we think we'd prefer B to be a part of whatever we do.  Truthfully, we still don't know, but I'm glad that when we do figure it out, we'll have her ashes.

Fourth, we gave Quinn a name.  Initially, we were insistent that we would not name her.  We hadn't settled on a name yet and neither of us knew how we'd feel down the road.  But about 2 days after we left the hospital, I realized that I wanted to talk about Q all the time and I didn't want to call her "the baby."  For me, it didn't do her life justice to not name her.  We didn't make a widespread announcement about her name at the time, but we let close friends and family know.  When we sent out B's birth announcement, we included a note on the back where we talked about losing Quinn.  It felt so important to us to share her name and story with all of our friends and acquaintances.

These were just the things that popped into my mind as I read all of your comments.  They reminded me to not just focus on what I wish we did differently, but also to think about what we did that has served us (and Q's memory) well.

Thank you again.  And I'll leave you with some photos so end this post on a happy note!

Deciding what sort of trouble to get up to!

Chasing poor Forest.  Luckily, he is considerably faster and more stable on his feet, but it is not for a lack of effort from B.

13 Months! (and random thoughts)

Where did the month of January go?  I'm big on resolutions and goal-setting and last night I finally made time to write my resolutions for 2016.  Better late than never, right?  After reading Better Than Before (which I love and highly recommend), I am trying to set quantifiable and measurable goals and have a mix of personal, professional, fitness, and emotional health-type resolutions.  We'll see.  Even when I don't keep all of my resolutions, I find them to be helpful reminders of what is important to me throughout the year.  Plus, I love looking back at them (I have paper copies back to high school and have kept them electronically since 2006). 

Enjoying a warm winter day at the park (in pigtails!)

I've been all over the place with posts I have wanted to write, so I'm going to stick to a bullet-point list so I can get it all down:

• I read this quote and it really resonated with me: “Here is a little secret about grief, catastrophe, loss, suffering: you are exactly the same after as before.  Only more so."  I'm not certain that I agree, but it made me think a lot about who I was before we lost Q and who I am now.  Perhaps the ways in which I have changed aren't really changes, but just that I feel and experience those feelings and behaviors in different ways?  Incidentally, this quote was from "After Birth," which I loathed.  I haven't read a book that made me so angry in such a long time.  The protagonist spent most of the book lamenting how terrible the birth of her son was (she had to have a c-section, it didn't go as planned, blah blah blah...) and it was so irritating.  
• In trying to find the title of "After Birth," I looked at my GoodReads list of books read for 2016 and realized that I seem to be on a grief-death kick.  I also read "The Opposite of Loneliness" (the author died just days after her graduation from Yale) and "When Breath Becomes Air".  I'd recommend both of those.  The latter is intense (the author writes it while dying of lung cancer), but so, so good.  And "The Opposite of Loneliness" is similarly heartbreaking... the author writes of her hopes and dreams, about how she'll be in the future as a parent, etc.  And all of that was taken away.  Both were a reminder of even when things are bad, how much worse they could be.  I know that no one wants to hear "It could be worse," but sometimes it is helpful to have a little perspective.
• Oh, did you come here for news about Baby B being a TODDLER and 13 months old?  Well, fine!  B is... amazing!  She is walking all over the place, babbling (mostly) unintelligibly, smiling, laughing, reading, loving her stuffed animals, and generally causing trouble in the best way possible.  I write this in every post, but she is such a joy.  When I get home from work, we often sit in the study (effectively her play room at this point) and she sits in my lap and looks at her books (she flips the pages super fast and doesn't let me read to her).  I snuggle her and smell her head and kiss her cheeks and generally just smother her with love.  Sometimes it just is too much and I get super emotional... I feel overwhelmed by how much I love her.
• I am running a marathon on February 14th. I feel under-prepared but I know I just need to get back out there and get it done.  We'll see how that goes.
• My thoughts are still often with getting pregnant again.  I think that is a subject for another post, but you all are probably sick of hearing about it.  
• I stopped nursing.  I thought I would be very sad about this, but it was okay -- it was time for us.  B loves milk and I was tired of pumping at work.   The only thing I miss about it now is the snuggle time and the ease of nursing vs. having to prepare a bottle.

I'll leave you with a few more photos.  Thanks to those of you who are still reading.  One of my resolutions is to blog more frequently, so we'll see if I can stick to that.  The bar is set pretty low...

Good morning!

With my favorite girl before a day of skiing with my husband
(she was unfazed by the ski resort daycare, which was awesome).

2 Years

What a week.  Christmas!  The New Year!  Baby B is ONE!  And it is the second anniversary of losing Q (Baby L).  We had a gorgeous white Christmas and B was overwhelmed but loved the ornaments, the paper, the gifts, the music, etc.  We both took B's birthday off of work, took her swimming and out to lunch, and did all of her favorite activities.  It's been such a nice stretch of spending time as a family and having a lot of fun, but lurking in the background are the memories of little Q.  My mind flashes back to scenes from the hospital much more often these days and I find myself hugging Blythe extra hard, rocking her longer, holding her while she sleeps, and constantly thinking of Q and B. 

I'm reminded both of how much we have lost and how lucky we are to be where we are today.  It's unfathomable to me what this anniversary would be like without B in my arms.  This is my not-so-little one-year-old on Christmas enjoying the fresh snow.

I try to remind myself to be grateful and happy when I instead find myself feeling envious of another friend's second or third baby pregnancy announcement.  I know I should always focus on what I have, which is the most wonderful gift I've ever been given. 

Thinking of you today, Quinn, and missing you like I do every day.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

If you are reading this blog, I suspect you already know that today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and that October is SIDS, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month.  I know that all of us who have lost a baby or babies think of them every day, but I really love that there is a special day to honor those babies and our losses and do hope that awareness grows for these events.

Two weeks ago, we attended the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep walk in Littleton, Colorado. My parents joined us, as did a friend from my support group (and her husband and baby girl).   It was a somber experience (of course) and so wonderful to set aside a few hours to just reflect and both celebrate and allow ourselves to be sad about Quinn.  They read the names of all the babies who had been lost by attendees and it really meant to much to just hear her name.  It was heartbreaking to hear hers and so many others (and so many families with multiple names that were read).

What I didn't do that I still want to do this month is go back and look through Quinn's box (incidentally, the box that NILMDTS gave us in the hospital). I haven't looked at her photos in months and somehow I feel like I am doing a disservice to her memory.  That said, sometimes I just can't bring myself to open up the floodgates for the grief again.  I know it is good to do from time to time, but it hasn't felt like the right time yet...



I woke up to a very sweet e-mail from a friend this morning telling me she is thinking of me and attaching the image below, which is from a line of cards.  These cards were created by Dr. Jessica Zucker, a psychologist and writer who specializes in women's reproductive and maternal-fetal health.   I'm not one to drop F-bombs often, but I did appreciate the message and the statements certainly resonated with me -- it is amazing what people think will help to say.

What I'm trying to do this month is be especially joyful about my current situation (and particularly for that nugget pictured above).  I have a happy, healthy, fun, beautiful little girl and the best husband.  I have a great job and a comfortable home and life is very, very good.  Every morning when I get B from her crib, I give thanks for her and the joy she has returned to our home and our hearts.  She is such a light.  So even with the sadness that bubbles up more often than I would like, and especially this month after events like the walk, I know just how good things are.

I'm thinking of you all... while I may not know you outside of our online connection, I think of you all often, wonder how you are doing, love reading about your activities and families, and so greatly value this community that has taken me in and pulled me through some really hard times.

 

8 Months

My little B has now been on the outside almost as long as she was on the inside.  I can hardly believe it.  Since my last post, it feels like so many things have changed.  She now eats solid food regularly (and some of it actually gets swallowed).  She sits up.  She crawls.  She pulls herself up to standing and does a little Elvis-esque hip movement since she's quite wobbly up on those chubby feet.  She makes fun noises and I have no idea where she hears them.  She adores story time and music class.  She gives "kisses," which are more like open-mouthed slobbers on whatever part of your face she reaches.  She is the best!

We've found an equilibrium at home for the time being (I have accepted that things change from day to day, week to week), and I feel like I have a better grip on home life, work, family, etc.  For me, this means I am finally running regularly (which makes me feel so much more like myself), packing my lunch to take to work and making meals for the family for dinner, reading at night and while I pump at work (just finished this book and loved it and this is me on Goodreads - I'd love to know what you all are reading), and not totally behind at work.  It feels good.  I know the next challenge is just around the bend, but I'm embracing the feeling I have today of just loving life.

Oh, hi! I'm not napping! 

I refuse to accept the idea that summer is ending.  Instead, I'm embracing the fact that September and October are two of the nicest months in Colorado and that we are getting better at weekend trips with B.  This pack has been amazing for taking B hiking and I love that she can join on our adventures (one of which is pictured above).

In a few weeks, our family is joining in the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Remembrance Walk in Littleton, Colorado.  It will be a somber day for sure, but I look forward to celebrating Quinn.  Two of the women from my support group are joining. Is anyone else in Denver and planning to attend?

One hazard of being on top of things at work is that I spend more time reading blogs.  Today I stumbled upon Harry's Joy and Life, Loss and Little Things.  It never ceases to amaze me how my sadness at losing Quinn can be tucked away for a few hours or a day and then - boom - it catches me off-guard and takes my breath away all over again.  Reading both of these blogs did that for me again, as did a call from my vascular surgeon to have a follow-up appointment to check on my blood clot.

I'm just rambling, but there it is.

8 months! Not lacking in thighs :)

Shared Experiences

We've had a bit too much going on at home lately, so I have had little to no time to myself and hence no time to blog. My husband ruptured his achilles and has been on crutches for the last 6 weeks (2 more weeks to go).  I am now even more in awe of single parents or those of you with a spouse who is deployed or away for long periods of time.  It is hard to be the sole caregiver for a baby (and to take care of an injured adult on top of that).

If you haven't seen Sheryl Sandberg's post on Facebook about losing her husband, check it out.  Her thoughts and advice and experience with such a tremendous loss will likely resonate.  I particularly related to her loathing of the question "How are you?"  I used to want to scream at people who asked me that.  And I also loved how she said  the following:

"Option A is not available.  So let's just kick the shit out of Option B."

When I catch myself thinking of Option A (Lemon), I let myself dream of what she would be like, but also remind myself how utterly amazing it is that we have Blythe.  I wouldn't want to think of her as Option B, but you know what I mean... arriving at B was not what we planned, but it certainly is sweet.

On a completely separate subject, I've had two people in the last few weeks approach me to talk about their losses. The first was a woman with whom I connected through our acupuncturist who lost her baby at 30 weeks due to a cord accident. The second is a woman with whom I work who stopped by my desk sobbing last week.  Her daughter-in-law (who also works at our company) had just found out at 20 weeks that her baby had anencephaly and they had to terminate the pregnancy.  I don't know this woman, but she knew I had been through something similar and just wanted to talk.  It just broke my heart and it stirred up so many crazy emotions and sent me running home early to snuggle B.  Every day I am so thankful for her.  Speaking of work, I still haven't figured out working less or asking for reduced hours.  I plan to do something about it this week, but thank you all for your thoughts and feedback on the subject.

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B, by the way, is SO big!  I'm sure she is still in the 30th percentile somewhere, but she seems just huge to me!  She is rolling over like crazy (I still panic when I see her sleeping on her stomach in the monitor), talking constantly, and just so much fun.   She also has, in my wholly biased opinion, the best hair.

My Babies & Due Dates

I finally wanted to share my baby's full names.  Not sure what is inspiring me to do this today, but I was just thinking about the anonymity of this blog and that I might be changing my tune about whether it it is necessary.

Anyway.

Baby L is referred to as "L" because we called her Lemon through my pregnancy. I'm not sure why, but it was an early nickname and it stuck.  But her real name is Quinn.  Beautiful, sweet Quinn.  I often think of her as my little Q.  But I do also still think of her as Lemon and think it would have been one of her nicknames.  Or maybe it is still her nickname?  I get tripped up in tenses when I think of Quinn.

And our Baby B!  The love of my life who brings me so much joy -- more than I thought we might ever feel again after we lost Quinn.  Baby B's real name is Blythe.  It means happy.  We hope she is happy and she certainly makes us the happiest we've ever been.  It has been my favorite name for ages and it just fit her (even though it took us 3 days in the hospital to actually commit).

So there it is.  You have now officially met my Baby B and Baby L.

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Last week was also the one-year anniversary of L's due date.  Little Lemon would be one year old.  I would have a one-year-old.  My due date anniversary and my last week of maternity leave combined to make it an emotional week.  Mostly I cuddled Miss B as much as possible, gave her many kisses, let her nap in my arms, and enjoyed every second with her.  But I also told her about her sister and had a few good cries thinking about the last two years and everything we have been through, lost, and gained.

As we all know, anniversaries are tough.