24 Weeks!

I can hardly believe this, but I'm about 24 weeks along which is considered "Viability Day." I still can barely believe that I'm pregnant, but there's no mistaking the huge belly and the little kicks that we can now feel and see from the outside!



We've been getting the nursery ready, but for now everything is still waiting for the room to be cleared out. I have a dresser, a twin bed for me to sleep in when she's still up all night, I ordered custom bedding for the crib, new drawer pulls for the dresser, window shades, and a ceiling fan. I also made a mobile that ties in our pink-orange-elephant theme. I can't wait to put it all together and post some pictures.

One of the most exciting things, after MS feeling her kick was my mom getting to feel her kick. I know it meant a lot to her and I am glad she was the second person after Winter's dad to get to experience this. It just makes things so real. Even for me, feeling her from the outside is so much cooler than feeling her from the inside, because it just seems so strong and it's just proof that she's really in there and it's not just some other rumbling of my tummy.

Updates galore

Wow I've been doing a terrible job updating this blog. The truth is, I've been so busy, but lots is happening!

We had our NT scan while in Florida and everything looked great. Baby was wiggling around like crazy and all the measurements looked good. Later bloodwork confirmed things were as good as possible, meaning I had the lowest possible 1/huge number risk for all of the different disorders they can test for.

Here's baby at 11 weeks:


When we got home I was 16 weeks along and we had another appointment with Dr. Fine. She did not do an ultrasound but we did get to hear baby's heartbeat for the first time via doppler. It's so nice and comforting to hear that sound and be reassured. I also started feeling movement, just a tiny, hard to believe little bit.

At 18 weeks we had our anatomy scan and found out that it's a girl! We are using the name Winter Claire, which is the name we had picked out last time, if it had been a girl. I was conflicted about using the name since it was attached to our first baby, but since we don't know if that baby was a boy or a girl, I decided to give our first baby a unisex name that we both liked, Rowan, and keep Winter for this little girl. I haven't really told anyone this part, but I like that it reminds me of my first baby, who was due in the winter and who I thought of as my winter baby. Maybe it's weird or wrong but it feels like I'm honoring Rowan by naming his or her little sister Winter. Claire is my mother's middle name.



I'm now feeling lots of movement, they're still subtle little kicks and swirls but there's no mistaking what's going on in there. It's so nice and comforting to feel her wriggling around all the time and know she is doing okay. I don't think the fear is ever completely gone but feeling movement helps so much I'm so grateful for it.

MS and I just went back to Florida for a birthday celebration trip. I turned 30 on Wednesday May 25th, and spent the day with my family at Disneyland. It just so happens that one of my friends and I have the same birthday. She also happens to be married to one of MS's best friends, so the four of us went out to Orlando to go to Disneyworld to celebrate our birthdays. We had a great time, though the heat and all the walking was a bit rough on my pregnant body. My ankles were so swollen! I am so happy to be home again, I think I've seen enough of Florida for awhile!

It's been awhile

It's been far too long since I've updated this blog, I've been so busy! We had our first appointment at 7 weeks and saw a beautiful baby with a heartbeat! I could hardly believe my eyes and ears. As soon as the OB started the ultrasound, she said "Heartbeat!" And my heart jumped, I felt so relieved and overjoyed. Here's our first ultrasound picture of the little pumpkin at 7 weeks.



The day after this amazing event, MS and I got on a plane to Orlando, where we have been living since March 2nd. He has a long project here for work, so we rented a condo and are staying until the end of April. I have been busy working on script consulting just like I do at home, and we've had some fun weekends exploring Disneyworld and Universal Orlando. Of course I can't go on all the rides but it's so worth it to keep our little pumpkin safe.

While here we had another appointment, at 11 weeks we had an NT scan. So far things still look great. The baby was growing on schedule, and was wiggling around like crazy on screen. I can't believe the little guy or girl is really in there growing and moving and getting bigger everyday.

This is our baby at 11 weeks:



I'm now 13 weeks and 4 days along and I still can't believe I've made it this far! I am so thankful everyday for this amazing gift, and MS is so excited about what he is sure is our daughter. Can't wait to get back home to California in two weeks. Florida has been fun but we are definitely homesick!

Fall Baby

I can hardly believe this is happening, but I am pregnant again! This was our third cycle trying since we had to sit out four cycles. I never thought it would happen again this quickly and I am so grateful and feel so lucky and blessed.

I must have had a subconscious good feeling about this month because I caved at 8DPO and tested. Of course, that early, nothing showed up. I tried again the next day and the next, still got nothing. At 11DPO, which was Friday, I got the faintest lightest line ever, which I convinced myself was an evaporation line or something I was just willing myself to see because I wanted it so badly. The next day, I got another super faint line that I barely believed. But Michael-Scott saw it. We got partially excited. We went to dinner at Vera and Sean’s and to my surprise he blurted out to them that we were possibly expecting. The next day I got another light line. Really light. I tested with a digital and it came out clear as day with an unmistakable “Pregnant.”


I am still in shock. I went out to breakfast with my parents on Sunday and told them. We were ordering drinks and my dad asked me if I wanted coffee, or a mimosa or something, and I said, “No I can’t have coffee or alcohol anymore.” I started smiling and they finally got that this wasn’t due to some new diet I was trying. My mom instantly started crying and my dad was thrilled. Of course he tried unsuccessfully to be reassuring by saying: “Don’t worry, even if you have another miscarriage, it doesn’t mean anything is wrong. My coworker’s daughter just had a baby and she had several miscarriages before this pregnancy.” Thanks Dad, but reassurance fail. I don’t care though, I’m too excited.

We haven’t told anyone else yet, except of course all the ladies on the bump. I am still in shock and working really hard on staying positive and hopeful and keeping in mind that, as one bumpie so eloquently put it, my past doesn’t dictate my future. I may have been pregnant before, but I have never been pregnant with this baby before, everything is different and I’m trying to give this little pumpkin the same untainted, fearless and unfettered love I gave our little winter baby.

New Year

Well I have been neglecting this blog since the holidays. Things have been busy, up and down and extremely difficult.

Christmas was nice enough, I think we were all just grateful to have each other and still have my mom around. I know the thought crossed her mind that she might not be here for any future Christmases so we tried to enjoy being together.
I have never been more thrilled to see a year end than 2010. It truly was the worst year of my life, I hate to add so far, but I will, God only knows what the future has in store for me. I have felt bad about how things were in the past and now putting it in perspective they look quite awesome. I hope that 2010 remains the worst year and things start looking up soon.

Happily, Michael-Scott has been home since before Christmas, other than one quick trip to Dallas over the weekend. It’s been really nice having him around. We celebrated our five year wedding anniversary on the 8th, with a really fun, indulgent day. We drove out to Malibu for breakfast at Paradise Cove. I had amazing carrot cake waffles, and we shared smoked salmon eggs Benedict. After breakfast we went to the Getty Villa, which was really interesting and fun. I haven’t been since they moved the majority of the art collection over to the new Getty, but there is still plenty to see at the old place, art, sculpture, jewelry, and artifacts, not to mention the gorgeous grounds.

We headed back towards home in time for our Thai massages. I have had plenty of regular massages but never this kind. It was an odd combination of deep tissue massage and intense stretching. I am not sure if I enjoyed it but I did feel better afterward.

We then went to Tifa Chocolate and had some drinking chocolate and some truffles. Finally we went home, grabbed some In-N-Out and ate that before taking a nap. We had late dinner reservations at 8:00 at Mastro’s so we got ready and went over there. That dinner was phenomenal. We had an appetizer with lobster, Dungeness crab and oysters, a bottle of Malbec, and delicious steaks. Our waiter surprised us with a Happy Anniversary cake and we had cappuccinos afterwards. It was a fabulous day. We were planning to go out of town, but with everything going on with my mom we decided we were better off staying close by.

My mom was declining, being off chemo and everything for awhile was taking a toll. She was feeling bad, nauseated and exhausted. Last week she finally got pushed into the clinical trial where she received some new drug that her doctor is very excited about. She didn’t feel much relief immediately following her treatment, but now a week later she is starting to finally feel a little better.

Decision time

I made a hard decision today, but it was necessary. I have to have some oral surgery, and I finally scheduled it for the 29th of this month, which means we will have to TTA this entire cycle. This also means that 2010 has lost all hope of actually turning out well. I was going to write it off as the worst year of my life but avoided saying that in case we actually did end up pregnant this year. That would have redeemed 2010 from all the bad that has come. But now I know we won’t. I am disappointed, but anxious to get the surgery done and not have to worry about it. And if I’m not too hopped up on pain medication at least I can ring in the new year with a lot of champagne instead of worrying that I should be abstaining because I could be pregnant.

But this year hasn’t been all bad. There’s been a lot of good that has happened and I feel like I have aged about ten years in experience and wisdom (hopefully I don’t look like I’ve aged ten years though!). Today is my mom’s PET scan after her gamma knife treatment, since she’s been off chemo for about two months while doing the radiation they need to see what is going on to start her on chemo again. We’re hoping for good news and praying that things work out for her. I do feel a lot of guilt and conflict in choosing to TTA. I know it’s something I almost have to do, my teeth have started to hurt and I don’t want to get pregnant and go nine months with pain and nothing to do about it, but I was really hoping to schedule the surgery before I’d have to make this decision. I feel guilt because of my mom. The longer I go without making a grandbaby for her the more scared I am that she won’t make it long enough to meet her grandchild. I know the thought scares her and I hope the delay just makes her stick around longer and fight harder to be here for that and for us. We do all still need and want her here and I hope that she knows that and is strong enough to stay for us. Aside from that I really feel at peace with this decision. I’m of course, impatient to be pregnant again but I know it will happen when it is supposed to happen and I’m trying to relax and leave this in God’s hands, so having a cycle off of trying and stressing and worrying about every little thing I do will be nice.

Merry Christmas, Darling

Merry Christmas, Darling
- Carpenters

Greeting cards have all been sent
The Christmas rush is through
But I still have one wish to make
A special one for you

Merry Christmas darling
We're apart that's true
But I can dream and in my dreams
I'm Christmas-ing with you

Holidays are joyful
There's always something new
But every day's a holiday
When I'm near to you
The lights on my tree
I wish you could see
I wish it every day
Logs on the fire
Fill me with desire
To see you and to say

That I wish you Merry Christmas
Happy New Year, too
I've just one wish
On this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you

Logs on the fire
Fill me with desire
To see you and to say
That I wish you Merry Christmas
Happy New Year, too
I've just one wish
On this Christmas Eve
I wish I were with you
I wish I were with you

Gratitude

I’ve always felt that gratitude is the key to happiness. Not felt, known. It’s the only way to ever enjoy anything, and I believe the reason for the tenth commandment. If you are always focused on what you don’t have, it’s impossible to enjoy what you do have, because there is always someone with more and someone with what you think you want. Of course this is all easier said than done, but it’s something I’m trying to focus on and it’s working wonders in my attitude and outlook.

Today I woke up at 7:00 and heard my husband already in the shower getting ready for work. I stumbled out of bed and sat with him while he got ready. I told him I was tired and he replied, “Go back to bed!” I said I didn’t want to because that was lazy. I feel guilty sleeping in when he’s up and working, but he said, “I work hard so you can be lazy.” What an amazing man I married. I love him so much I can’t even describe it, and I am so grateful that he is so devoted to me and my happiness. No matter what challenges come our way I know that I can face them with someone like that by my side.

The other incredible little treat that made today wonderful was from my dad. He recently traveled to Toulouse on business, and I asked him if he could bring me back some real French pain au chocolat (literally bread of chocolate, but it’s just a chocolate filled croissant). There is something so deliciously perfect about these pastries, plus for me they’re strongly tied to memories of being sixteen and living with a French family in Rouen and dunking one in a bowl (yes a whole bowl!) of chocolat chaud (hot chocolate) for breakfast. Sure you can get a chocolate croissant at Starbucks or wherever, but they’re not the same. There’s something about the butter, the technique, the chocolate, that makes the real French version (even the smushed, probably bought at the airport version my dad managed to bring home) far superior to anything available here. The ones here are dumbed down and just a croissant with chocolate filling, which is often tasteless brown frosting-like chocolate flavored goop. The real ones have a layer of real chocolate inside, which melts deliciously with the butter and flaky layers of croissant when you dip it into your morning chocolat chaud or coffee. C’est magnifique!

So I have to thank the two most important men in my life today for making my morning so perfect and reminding me how much I am loved and how much I have to be grateful for. Thank you Dad for taking care of me for the first 24 years of my life and still indulging me when you can. And thank you Michael-Scott for the last five years and being such a perfect hardworking husband.

Unexpected little love stories

As what is starting to seem like always, MS is out of town, right now in Indiana, on his way to St. Louis tonight. We talk and text throughout the day, which makes it a little easier, but I still miss him so much.

Last night I could tell from the increasing unreadable nature of his texts that he had had a few drinks while out at dinner. When he called me he confirmed that he’d had a few beers, and when he drinks, he gets happy and even more lovey dovey.
He told me that the coworker he was out with had asked him when he knew that his wife (AKA me) was the one and was perfect for him. I smiled and assumed I’d hear some cute story about something a said or did when we were dating, you know, before he asked me to marry him. Instead he started, surprisingly, with “It was about a year ago…” I frowned, we’ve been married almost five years and only a year ago you realized I was the one? But I didn’t say anything and just listened. “You didn’t see me, but I came downstairs to the kitchen and you were in there doing dishes, and you weren’t watching TV or anything, but you were so happy you were singing and I thought wow, she just made dinner for me and now she’s cleaning up and is content to be doing this, she is a good woman, and I know she will always take care of me.”
The story made me so happy because I am pretty old-fashioned and I do enjoy taking care of him and being a wife first above everything else. I can’t wait to add mother to that title.

I realized that I had had a similar epiphany about him last year when I felt like I knew for sure that he would always take care of me, and enjoyed doing it. It was after I had quit my stressful job at Four Seasons and was at home reading a screenplay. I was sitting outside in the sun and a big blue jay landed in front of me. I took a picture of it with my phone and texted it to MS, who was, again, in some cold city on a business trip. He wrote back that it looked like it was nice and sunny out, but wherever he was was cold and rainy, and he was out in that cold weather knocking on doors and enduring the chill. I felt so guilty and wrote back that I was so sorry that he had to do that, and he wrote back that he would do anything so that I could be home, sitting outside, being happy. I knew then that he would always take good care of me, and that I could always count on him to put me first.

I am so grateful that I have him in my life, and I know that he will make an amazing father and take good care of our family if we are ever lucky enough to have children.

A New Thanksgiving Tradition

This year, my darling husband decided to institute a new tradition. Rather than simply having everyone state what they were thankful for, he had us all tell each other what why we were thankful for them personally. He asked the person being talked about to sit facing away from the group and not say anything, so there would be less awkwardness and no chance to argue or downplay the nice things being said about them. Instead we had to sit quietly and just accept how much everyone loved us. You would think we would have all jumped at the chance to have our egos stroked like this, but everyone was humbly reluctant and uncomfortable, especially MS’s old-school grandfather, who we made go first. He is not one to emote or take compliments easily, so he resisted this “navel-contemplating” exercise, but finally submitted when we told him he couldn’t have any of my freshly-baked-from-scratch pumpkin and apple pies until this was done.

We started telling Poppy why we were thankful for him, beginning with his daughter, my mother-in-law. MS originally wanted to limit the time spent on each person to three minutes, but by the time she was finished talking about how much she loved her father and why, three minutes had passed and the rest of us hadn’t even spoken. So it took awhile, but it was worth it and we all enjoyed talking about why we were thankful for everyone. It is such a habit for me, and everyone, I think, to be picky and critical of others, to complain and find fault. I found it very uplifting and healing to focus on only the good in each person and being able to let them know how much I love them and why was something that I haven’t previously been comfortable doing, especially with my in-laws. We were all touched by the nice things said about us, and I was surprised at how they all perceive me, it is different than how I see myself, as I said, I tend to be a little critical of everyone but the absolute hardest on myself.

We all enjoyed the pie we earned and then MS and I headed to dinner at a restaurant with my family. When we got home we told them the same thing-we have to do this before you get pie. After a few groans and protests, my family also agreed. We started with my grandmother, then my dad, mother, sister, then Michael-Scott, and finally me. I was in tears nearly the entire time. When my father spoke he told me how I was so special to him because I was the one that made him a father, and that being a dad was the best thing he’s done in his life and it is so amazing. I cried because I was touched by what he said, but also because I know being a parent is one of life’s highest callings, it’s all I want, and I’m still so terrified that I might never be a mother. Overall though, it was an amazing experience. I am so grateful to my husband for suggesting this, it made the holiday so much more meaningful to everyone and brought us all closer by allowing us to express how we felt and appreciate and share love for one another in a way that we rarely do. I have never felt so much love for and so much love from my family as I do now, and I hope that their experience was similarly uplifting.

Bad Timing

When we first started dating, my husband and I talked about how our relationship was a bit like the movie When Harry Met Sally. They were best friends, had a lot in common, had this great chemistry, but they could never get their timing right for their relationship to work until the end.

Our relationship had been similar. I met my husband many years ago because I was dating one of his friends. My boyfriend at the time introduced me to all his friends and the instant I saw my husband I felt that butterfly-in-the-stomach nervous sense of excitement you get before giving a speech or, I would imagine, jumping out of an airplane. He made me nervous and excited I thought he was gorgeous. I won’t claim it was love at first sight, but it was something. Of course, I was happily dating his friend, and he was a good guy who would not actively pursue his friend’s girlfriend. Especially after I broke up with that boyfriend and dated yet another one of his friends. But he was always there, being cute and inexplicably frustrating me. I was always overly critical of his girlfriends and secretly thought that none of them were good enough for him. I was too dense to realize it was because I thought only I was good enough for him and honestly felt like there was no potential for a relationship between us, he just wasn’t right for me and I didn’t waste any time thinking about us ever being together.

It took us many years of sexual tension, late night talks and incessantly teasing and arguing with each other before we finally figured out we were meant to be together. The timing had never been right, but when it was it was amazing and we had that weird, movie magic moment of realizing that the right person had been there all along.

Now I feel again like my life is being consumed by timing and missed opportunities. I thought our timing was so awesome-we got pregnant right when we wanted to and it came at such a wonderful time for our family-what better news to temper my mom's diagnosis than the news of a new baby? The timing seemed perfect, and when I went through the loss one of the worst parts of it was dealing with it and with my mom, worrying that we might not get another chance for her to have a grandchild. The timing couldn't have been worse.

I am hoping that the same happily ever after end result that applied to my dating life will someday apply to my reproductive one as well. I hope that, as some of my well-meaning friends try to tell me, someday I’ll look at my family and realize it was all meant to happen the way it did, and that I’ll love my kids so much I’ll know that there was a reason why I went through this loss. I hope they’re right. It’s hard to imagine when you’re still waiting, trying and hoping.

Right now I just feel frustrated and upset that I should be big, pregnant, well into my third trimester and ready to pop early next year, and instead I’m losing weight, nowhere near pregnant and once again suffering at the hands of bad timing. MS is traveling so much for work, he is gone when I need him to be here. We’ve only been able to start trying again since last month, and it did not work, so this month I had a lot of hopes pinned on getting pregnant and having happy news to share with the family at Christmas, but, due to more bad timing, it’s not looking so good. I know I need to be patient but the idea that I’ll reach my first baby’s due date and still not be pregnant is upsetting and discouraging. I don’t know how I will handle that, except that I have seen so many other women handle that, or worse, with strength and grace, I hope I can be that strong, if I have to. More than that I hope I don’t have to face it at all.

A story with two happy endings.

When I posted on Facebook on Oct. 15 for National Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness day, I was pleasantly surprised to find a message in my inbox from my mother’s former best friend. The two of them were close from childhood on, and I grew up calling this woman Auntie and playing with her daughters, one who was my age and one a few years younger. Fifteen years ago she and my mother had a falling out for reasons I don’t know and that are none of my business anyway.

This woman contacted me to share with me that she too had experienced two losses. She was understanding and compassionate towards me and understood my pain. I was touched that she reached out to me and shared with her how my mom was doing. Obviously, she was upset to hear my mother had been suffering with breast cancer and asked me if she could contact my mother and try to reconcile. I told my mother what happened and she started crying and showed me a card that she had started to write to her friend but had yet to send. She was thrilled that her friend was open to reconnecting.

Earlier this week, the two former best friends got together for the first time in a decade and a half. They spent hours catching up and talking about what had transpired in their lives since they’d lost touch. My mother told me a story that both haunts and inspires and comforts me.

In addition to the two losses my mother’s friend told me about, she also lost a twin-a vanishing twin, as it is oddly termed-during her pregnancy with her younger daughter. She did not give it much thought, nor did she ever share this with her daughter.

When her daughter was in high school and going through a particularly tough time, she asked her mother if she had been a twin. Her mother asked her why she was asking and her daughter replied that she knew she had a twin because her twin brother always visited her and comforted her whenever she was sad. Her mother shared with her daughter the name she would have given her twin if he had lived.

I am blown away by this story, and while of course I am skeptical, part of me wants it to be true. I firmly believe in an afterlife, and the idea of a brother being there for his sister in spirit, even if not able to in body, is comforting and wonderful. It also reinforces my belief that life begins very early, and that a lost baby is a real child that has died, no matter how early in a pregnancy a loss occurs.

You're Not Shaken

The lyrics to this song really hit home for me with the events of the past year.

You're Not Shaken by Phil Stacey

I am sinking in the river that is raging
I am drowning
Will I ever, rise to breathe again
I wanna know why
I just wanna understand
Will I ever know why?
How could this be from Your hand?

When every little thing that I dream of being just slips away
like water through my hands
And when it seems the walls of my beliefs come crashing down
like they're all made of sand
I won't let go of You now
because I know, oh, You're not shaken

I am trembling in the darkness of my own fear
All the questions with no answers
So grip me while I'm here
And I may never know why
Oh I may not understand
But I will lift up my eyes,
and trust this is Your plan

When I am in the valley
of the shadow of death

You're not shaken
You're not shaken

You're right here beside me and
You have never left

You're not shaken
You're not shaken

Outlook: much, much better!

We recently found out that my mom had some brain tumors. The words cancer and tumors are scary enough, but combine them with brain and you’ve got something downright terrifying. We waited and hoped and prayed and spent time together all weekend in anticipation of her consultation with yet another doctor today. We were scared she wouldn’t be treatable. We were scared the radiation would make her too sick to fight the cancer everywhere else. We were afraid that the treatment would leave her radioactive and not able to be around her trying to conceive (and hopefully soon pregnant) daughter (that would be me!).

Today all of our fears were alleviated. Of course I’d prefer that there was nothing wrong with her in the first place, but considering that she has cancer and brain tumors, this is good news. Her doctor explained that brain tumors sound so scary but with recent advances they are so treatable that you could almost say they have a cure because the treatment works so well. They just can't call it a cure because the tumors can return and you often have to continue treatment later.

She has 8 or more small tumors all over her brain. They caught them all early. She has to go in for general radiation of her whole brain 5 days a week for 3 weeks. This should prevent new tumors from coming in. Then she has to have targeted radiation to attack the specific tumors, this will be 2 or 3 times, and takes about 6 hours each time.

During the 3 weeks she has to stop chemo, but she was doing so well with that that her oncologist is confident about her being okay with a 3 week break. She also cannot drive and so we are trying to coordinate that, but my sister should be able to handle most of the driving.

And, the doctor said I can be around her because the radioactivity leaves her body almost immediately so she is not dangerous to pregnant women (again, I am not currently pregnant, just trying to get there so we are being extra cautious!). He said I should not go to the facility, and my mom is so worried she doesn't even want me driving her and going near the treatment center. But at least I don't have to avoid her altogether for the next 3 weeks, which we feared. And it’s only 3 weeks, we also feared it would be another year of treatment like the chemo.

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope

Today is National Pregnancy/Infant Loss Awareness Day. Please visit www.iamtheface.org and support this worthy cause.

If you are a mother to a living child, please honor those of us who are mothers only to angels today by being grateful that you have your child here with you. If you are pregnant, please take a day to enjoy it, and don’t complain about how hard it is to have morning sickness or any of the other signs that mean you are going to have a healthy baby. Please keep in mind that some of us would love to be in your shoes, swollen ankles and all.

Scared

So things were looking up, everything was going well. I was excited that we finally reached the third cycle required to start trying again for a baby. I had a doctor’s appointment and my OB is happy, everything looks fine and we are good to go.
My mom’s arm got better very quickly, the swelling went back down to what it was before and her skin is much better. Her hair is still going but she has a great sense of humor about it. She even bought a “wig” which gave her a bright purple Mohawk.

Today I found out, through my grandmother, because my mother likes to keep things from me so I won’t worry, that she has been having trouble seeing and is going into the hospital tomorrow for an MRI to see if she has a brain tumor. We’re not panicking yet, it could be something else, and it could be operable and no big deal.

So far she has done much better than any of the doctors predicted and beaten the odds at every turn. But hearing brain and tumor together leave me pretty scared. I feel completely helpless and overwhelmed. I believe in prayer and I am praying for her, but after what happened to my baby, despite my desperate prayers, after what I have seen happen to so many other worthy mothers, it is hard to keep my faith strong. There is nothing I want more than to be able to tell her she is going to be a grandma again, and to actually bring a baby into this world for our family to love.

The thought that she might not be here long enough to meet her grandchild breaks my heart, for me, for her, and for my future child who might never know her love. I am comforted only by the hope that things will be okay and the knowledge that she does have a grandchild waiting for her in Heaven if she has to go soon.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

First, the good-this cycle is almost over and that means we have waited the requisite 3 cycles since my D&C and are cleared for trying again! I am so excited and relieved and though I am fearful I cannot wait to start trying and get some hope back into my life. I am trying to give my fear to God and relax and accept that I will be a mother, one way or another, when the time is right. That is all I can do at this point, well, that and have lots of sex.

The bad was Sunday. MS and I went and took a walk to a park in our neighborhood so he could use the monkey bars to do pull ups and other manly exercises. Now even though it is a park with a playground meant for children and even though it was a nice sunny day I didn’t expect anyone to be there. There are hardly ever any kids there aside from the occasional surly teenager smoking or dropping the F-bomb every other word in their cell phone conversation, which does not really make me long for a child of my own.

But on Sunday there were kids. Three kids, three beautiful adorable blonde kids-a ten year old boy, a five year old girl and a three year old boy. They were being chased around by a cute woman who looked so young that I assumed she was their babysitter, until I heard her children calling her “Mommy!” over and over as they ran around playing tag. They were adorable. So happy, cute and energetic. I wanted them, I wanted to be her. I couldn’t believe this girl already had three while I was sitting there feeling much older than her with nothing to show for it. I sat and tried to ignore them as MS did his exercises but each gleeful scream of “Mommy!” made my heart ache. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying not to cry and MS consoled me with his usual “We’ll have kids someday.” And by trying to cheer me up by finding a dried crunchy leaf in the grass, picking it up and putting it on the sidewalk for me so I could step on it. He knows I love stepping on dried leaves. Silly but cute and sweet of him.

And the ugly. My poor mom’s arm. Don’t think I’m horrible for calling it ugly, she would say the same thing. Everything had been going very well with her chemotherapy and treatments. Her swollen arm, which had filled with lymph fluid due to a tumor blocking drainage, had finally started to shrink on its own, defying the doctor’s predictions that it would never improve. It only looked a tiny bit bigger than her svelte left arm, the difference only noticeable by comparison. They sent her to a lymphedema treatment office, where they wrapped and bandaged her arm to try to force the swelling down. She happened to have this done on one of the hottest days of the summer. It was sweltering and humid for Southern California, and my poor mom’s sensitive skin got incredibly itchy bound in the tight bandages. The pain and frustration of not being able to scratch kept her up all night but she endured it and ignored it and went all weekend with the bandage on. When she went back to have the doctor take a look, they found that under the bandage her skin had become so irritated and inflamed that her arm had swollen up again to its old giant size, and is now covered in a bright red scaly rash. Poor thing, she tried so hard to be good and leave the bandage on, which ended up making it worse. She’s now waiting to let her skin heal before trying the bandage and compression again.

Anticipation

I haven’t written in awhile because I’ve been busy. Busy and distracted. Not a single day passes that I don’t think about my baby and miss it, but I have to admit, time has made the sadness less intense and consuming. I haven’t cried in a long time and I am so grateful for that.

Part of the reason is that we are finally getting closer and closer to the time that we can start trying again. I only have a few more weeks to wait and I am thrilled and terrified at the idea of trying again. I am thrilled because I want nothing more than a baby in my arms, a sibling for the one we lost, and to see my husband talking to my belly, to his baby, once again. I am terrified because I don’t know how I will handle another loss. Before my loss I didn’t even anticipate what it would really be like to lose a baby. I knew, intellectually, that it was possible, but I didn’t think it would happen to me. I didn’t know the pain would be so overwhelming, that I would feel so much love for my baby so early on and feel the loss so intensely.

Now I know that it can, I know that it did happen to me and I know that it could happen again. I know how devastating it is and I know what to expect, what to fear now. I don’t know if I could handle losing another child. I will be thrilled if we get pregnant, but I will also be scared. I don’t want that ambivalence to taint my joy at another pregnancy, to reduce the amount of love I let myself give to a second child, but I am afraid that it will. I also fear that it won’t be so easy this time.

We were so lucky to so easily get pregnant, and I know it is possible that this second try could take months, years, but I can’t accept that. In my mind I am already assuming it will be just as easy this time, and I have already fantasized about due dates and milestones assuming I get pregnant right away. I don’t know what to do with this fear and these feelings, other than to give them to God and pray for peace and acceptance, pray to know that when it is right it will happen and comfort myself with the belief that if our next child can’t stay here with us, it will have a sibling waiting for it in Heaven.

Grateful

I wrote something very negative that I was going to post. After a very emotional weekend, I decided to stop wallowing in my sorrow and self-pity and try to focus on what I have to be grateful for, because there is really so much, in spite of what I don’t have.

I am grateful I was born in a country and a time where I am free and safe and can pursue my dreams.

I am grateful for the men and women who serve and make sacrifices for our country to protect that freedom.

I am grateful for my husband who works hard so that we can have a wonderful life together, and who makes me feel loved every single day.

I am grateful for my family, who is always there for me, and offer their time, love and support unconditionally.

I am grateful that I am a mother, even if it is to a baby that I never held in my arms. Knowing that pure love and the depth of it has changed me and my life forever and I will never regret being pregnant, in spite of the pain that came with the joy.

I am grateful for all the amazing women that I have met because of my loss. Their strength and love has inspired me and helps me get through the hard times when it seems no one else understands.

"In Praise of Telling Too Soon"

This article on Mothering.com perfectly described my experience.

I am so glad I told the people I did early on. Because I told, I got to have the joy and fun of people being excited with us, and I also received enormous support and sympathy when people found out about our loss. I never could have faked being okay if no one had known what happened.

So, I tell other women to tell everyone-share your joy. It doesn't hurt anything. Hiding in the dark when you are grieving one of the most painful experiences anyone can go through is worse than having to "un-tell." I also think it is sad to go through the first three months of a pregnancy assuming you will miscarry. It's hard not to, but even those of us who have suffered a loss should try to be happy and cautiously optimistic about a new pregnancy.