Dear baby girl.

Last night, I told my counselor that we were pregnant. (Last week she had told me she had a dream where I told her I was pregnant, so this week I told her she could be a fortune teller!) We talked a lot about all my many complicated feelings about this pregnancy. Joy of course, but currently that is secondary to anxiety and fear. There is an initial innocent assumption that everything will turn out ok that has been replaced by the experience that the world just doesn't always work that way. I told her that in some ways I am trying to remain detached until I get some positive information that so far everything looks good. And her response is though that seems like a good idea, another idea is to approach those feelings head on. She asked how I would feel about writing a letter either to this new baby, or to our baby girl (or both). Although I haven't even begun this letter and I'm already uncomfortable, I'm going to forge ahead and see what I get...

Tiny one,

Even though you were oh so tiny when we lost you, and I only knew you for about 6 weeks, I loved you so so so much so so quick. You see, I felt pretty early you were a girl, and I was SO excited. Momma is a girly girl who loves shopping, pink, glitter, bows, Barbies, and ruffles. I have a special relationship with my Mom & Dad, and was excited your Daddy and I would get to share that with our own daughter. We were so excited about how close you would be to your brother. I knew he would be so good with you and would both protect you and give you a hard time. 

We had to work kind of hard to get you! I was actually sad when your brother was born because I loved being pregnant and loved having him in my tummy. I was ready pretty soon to be pregnant again. After several months it became clear that it wasn't going to be easy, so we found a doctor to help us. We couldn't believe it when we were finally successful! We started talking about names, I bought a double stroller, and even grabbed a pair of pink boots the week we were going to find out for sure if you were a girl or boy.

And yet I had been feeling uneasy for a long time. Every time we would go to the doctor I held my breath until we saw you. Every twinge was worrisome. And I heard your heartbeat at home and cried, because I was so relieved and happy. But then I couldn't find it so daddy could hear it, and I started to worry. The day I found out you were gone was no doubt the worst day of my life. I felt so alone. 

You have no idea the impact you had on our lives. It is extremely difficult to mourn someone who you never met or held, and yet had already dreamed countless dreams for. We miss you and what you could have been. You remind us to cherish what we have. Your big brother is even more special to us now that we know what a miracle we received to get pregnant naturally and not have any problems. Now that we are pregnant again, and dreaming of a new future with another baby, we are approaching everything differently. We are trying to protect our hearts, and not make assumptions, because there is no guarantee that we will meet this baby either. 

And yet there is hope. Hope in that we did get pregnant again. Hope that we will have another little girl. Hope that the fluke occurance that hurt your little heart won't happen again. Hope in that we have one perfect child and more will come. 

October 28th will always be a rough day for me. This October, we will hopefully be announcing that we are expecting again, but I will always remember. And April 2nd and 4th may always be hard too, but hopefully we also will get a new reason to smile next April. 

Know that not only will you never be forgotten, but I have also promised myself never to forget to be thankful for what I have, because I have been given many gifts, and none of them as special as my children. 

Love, 
Momma

Next: Reflections

The Man Who Got Me Pregnant

This isn't going to be about who you think, since I'm not talking about Louis. Now Louis is my baby daddy, obviously. But the man who really did the work to help us conceive is our ob/gyn, Hampton Richards.

I just want to give him a quick plug in case you happen to be in the market for an incredibly compassionate, optimistic, proactive, and empathetic doctor. He is patient with my lists of questions (asks me every time if I have questions, knowing that's how I roll). He is a good communicator, with very good bedside manner, and makes you feel so at ease. He remembers Louis & Carter's names every time. He is a third generation doctor (he works with his dad!), born and raised Texan, whose residency was at Northwestern (not too shabby).

The day we found out we miscarried he had squeezed me in, then shorted his own lunch break to sit with me and oh so gently explain everything. I seriously cannot imagine having to give people that news and he did it in the best way possible. 

He and his wife had their own share of fertility issues and were blessed with twin boys after ivf. He's been there. He understands the stress and emotional toll this process takes. 

He has two nurses who are both incredible. They call me back within a couple hours, often sooner. They are super efficient and they seem to have good communication with him, so they always know what's going on.

The office staff is also super nice and patient. His gynecology office is located across from the hospital (so free parking for yearly visits, yay) and for ob visits you move across the street to the hospital. His perinatologist is Brian Rinehart, whom we saw with Carter and is very kind and always put our mind at ease. (Calmed me down the day I scheduled an emergency appointment because I could tell my placenta was deteriorating and he agreed and told me I would be meeting my son the next day.)

After spending almost 9 years with my previous obgyn, I am sad I didn't find dr. Richards sooner! I never felt as comfortable, as positive, as clear about what was being done, or as cared for and about. I know that seeing a male obgyn isn't everyone's cup of tea, but Dr. Richards is seriously worth any initial weirdness!

Next: Dear Baby Girl

How Robin Williams Gave Me Good News

So last night while at dinner with friends we learned that Robin Williams had passed away, unfortunately at his own hand. Now I get sad whenever someone you feel like you know and love dies, and especially so when they do it to themself, whether intentionally or not (I also think of Cory Monteith, Whitney Houston, & Heath Ledger). But last night it really hit me hard! I was in tears on the way home & again this morning. Every time I read something I got more upset. And although I am empathetic to an extreme, that's not necessarily normal. Which kind of gave me a clue that something might be going on. 

Today was the earliest I could possibly get a positive test, so I had been waiting until today (shockingly- usually I test even if it's likely to be too early to tell). And I'm pregnant. And this time my emotional response is so complicated I don't even know how I'm feeling. Relived. Excited. Hopeful. Nervous. Scared. Realistic. Impatient. Happy. I already texted both of our families the news because even though it's a lame way to share, I wanted them to know immediately so they could be praying. Because I'm still not good at that. 

Part of me wants to start looking at nursery stuff and narrowing down the list of names (innocent stuff, right?)(and surely everything will be fine this time, right?), but another part of me doesn't want to do anything but act completely normal and uninterested until we know everything is good. I know girls who have had multiple miscarriages. I know girls who have had multiple after a successful pregnancy. And that possibility is terrifying. But that just isn't my personality. I can't not hope. I can't not dream. I can't not look at all the old wives tales to predict what the gender is before we find out for real. I can't not wonder if he/she'll be another mini-me with Louis' crazy boy personality, or if he/she'll look more like him but be calm and meek. We're due around April 22nd (by my calculations), so baby will come by the 15th but hopefully after the 8th. Personally I'd like 4/11/15 or 4/15/15, but we all know how my plans work out...

I am not sure yet when we'll share publically. Probably when it feels right. Definitely after 8 weeks but I don't know if we'll wait til after 12 or not. We'll see.

Next: The Man Who Got Me Pregnant

My ugly feelings.

This has been a hard week. We have had family stuff the last three weekends in a row, all involving people at our house, and we are gearing up for another weekend of guests. Louis and I haven't gotten to just relax and check in with each other in what feels like forever. (Not complaining about the company, it's been really fun, I just miss my quiet time with Louis!) Also, I ran out of my Zoloft prescription on Sunday, and was unable to refill it because our insurance is stupid. We are also days away from finding out if we're pregnant or not, and I'm impatient. It is also our 6th anniversary, which has led to some reflection that has left me with a menagerie of emotions... Here are the big three.

1) sad. I haven't felt straight up sad in  awhile. But this week has seen tears. I've seen photos of friends on Facebook holding their littles next to their big belly, and it has made me so sad. That should be me right now. I wanted that so badly. I definitely did not see us being married this long with only one child to show for it. If I'd written out a 6 year plan I would have expected to be pregnant with our third right now!  

2) angry. I've been angry for months now but this week the anger has been different. Not only have I seen a couple of news articles that prove that procreation should require a written exam and psychology testing, but my anger is turning away from the situation and towards others (not good I know). There are people who straight up don't deserve what they get. And that goes both ways. There are great people who have horrible hardships, and bad or mediocre people who everything seems to come so easily to. I know that what's equal isn't necessarily fair and what's fair probably isn't equal, but why? Why do some people have hurdle after hurdle to clamber over, and others just skip right along? I know that some people have things that they're dealing with that we can't see, but I know people who aren't dealing with anything, haven't dealt with anything, and whose life is going according to plan. And this isn't just a "why them and not me". This is about ALL the inequity. I have some friends fighting major, major battles I could use as examples but I don't want to embarrass them. This week it is making me so so angry. (And yes, I know that there is no good answer to all my questions and that's also making me angry) ;)

3) jealous. I'm jealous frequently. It's not a big deal. I think it's pretty common. I don't really get wrapped up in it or become consumed by it. Just a momentary comparison and I find myself wanting in some way (tan skin & voluminous hair get me every time) but I move on. But this week. Every belly, every baby, every pregnancy post, photo, comment, etc. gets me so down in the dumps. And I know some people get it. Some people are so aware of the miracle, the blessing, the gift. But others? Take the whole experience for granted. And I'm so jealous. Of the cravings & aversions, of the swelling, of the weight gain, insomnia, indigestion, heart burn, morning sickness... Because all those things are symptoms of the best thing in the world. Seriously. And if that sounds totally crazy to you then you might want to take a moment and process this. It is a gift. Every time you feel anything that makes you uncomfortable (even the hemorrhoids), remind yourself that you have been given a gift. Because truthfully I would have happily been as sick as I was the entire 9 months (or heck, 18 years) if that meant baby girl would have survived. I would have made that deal in an instant. 

I'm also thankful this week. Thankful for our families. Thankful for some of the very best friends I can imagine. Thankful that while we are struggling to conceive we have a roof over our heads, food in our fridge, cars to get us places, jobs to provide for our present and future, and the BEST little boy in the 'verse. (Firefly reference? Anyone?)

Next: Robin Williams Gave Me Good News

Grief. And a little hope.

There's a girl I don't really know, but whom I know through mutual friends, who recently experienced a very big loss of her own. She and her husband have been committing to adopting internationally since they got married. Not because they can't conceive naturally (I don't know them well enough to know if they've ever tried), but because their hearts are in love with sweet African babies in orphanages. They actually were matched with a little boy, and went through the entire process, went to pick him up only to learn that he wasn't theirs any longer. She had to come home empty handed to a house ready for a toddler.

My heart is still broken for them, and reading her blog made me ugly cry, because so many of the feelings she has are ones I can empathize with. I did not have the pleasure of meeting my child, of holding her, or seeing her smile, and while in someways I think that's harder, in other ways I think it's easier. 

I miscarried about 15 weeks ago. I would be 25 weeks now, and only 3 months away from delivery. That blows my mind. I feel silly sometimes, that something that was only in my life for 6 weeks and two days (how long I was aware of being pregnant), has such a strong and long-lasting impact on me still. I'm going to get my big family right? No matter the method or cost? So why so much pain and worry now? I'm not sure, because that's what I do, worry?

This girl (I want to call her a friend because I've read every blog post but honestly I don't know if she would even remember who I am), has been having guest bloggers post recently. And one of the most recent wrote something I wanted to share: 

"If you have a friend in the thick of grief, don’t abandon them. Don’t put a time-limit on your compassion.These things play out differently for everyone, and no one wants to feel like their grief is taking too long or inconveniencing others. Just keep on with them. Keep encouraging them. Keep crying with them. Keep assuring them this hand they have been dealt really does suck as much they feel like it does. Just be with them. It will look different in every relationship. But forget about time and cliches that attempt to comfort. Hug them. Take them out for dinner, if they feel like getting dressed. If they don’t, bring them a pizza and watch a stupid movie with them. If they want to talk, listen. If they don’t, just sit. Your pretense of understanding is unnecessary. Your compassion for their hurting hearts are what will help pull them out of bed on those harder days."

I have some amazing friends who even though they cannot understand what we are going through, have stuck with me and are still reminding me that they're with me. You know who you are, and thank you!

I'm not "over" this. As a highly emotional, highly sensitive, female with a good memory, I probably won't ever "get over it". And I think I'm ok with that. Time will make it easier to bear. Things will happen that will make the first week in April good again. And the last week in October. I will be able to see an ultrasound, a bump picture, or a Facebook announcement without getting upset. I know that in a decade, when I feel like my family is complete and I'm exhausted by all the laundry, cleaning, and cooking that comes with multiple kids, I will look back at this time. I won't remember it fondly or anything, but hopefully I remember it as a time of growth. Of reprioritizing. Of focusing on the good. Of learning to take advantage of what I have in this moment, and not worrying about tomorrow, next week, next month, next year.

I bought some super on sale maternity pants today because um $12 from Gap? And because I feel 99% sure I will carry another baby (or three). I will. And as silly as I felt buying something I don't need, I felt kind of good that it showed that I have not given up hope. Even though some days I want to wash my hands of this whole fertility thing and go grab 3 of those immigrant children and bring them home (and then learn more than the 3 dozen Spanish words I know). And if that is God's plan, we'll see it through as well. But not before giving the (semi) "old fashioned way" a good fight. 

Next: My Ugly Feelings

27 needles

Yesterday I had two doctors appointments. Louis was kind enough to work from home and stay with Carter because one of them was my bi-weekly ultrasound (which Carter only has limited patience for) and the other was my first acupuncture appointment. Yes, you read that right, acupuncture.

I went to a doc in Preston Hollow whom I allowed, nay paid to stick me with needles. 27 of them in fact. I ended up with three in each ear (the most uncomfortable for sure), two in each arm, five in my stomach, and three on each leg, then after 20 minutes I rolled over and he did four in my back and one on each ankle. 

It wasn't that bad, but it wasn't the most fun 45 minutes I've ever had. During the 20 minute waits you have to lay still, and he turns off the light, has soft music playing, and turns on a heat lamp. I had plenty of time to think. I started by thinking positive, hopeful thoughts. "This cycle is going to work." "We are going to get pregnant with the perfect, healthy baby boy or girl (but hopefully girl)(but most hopefully healthy)." "We're going to get a nice big sticky egg." And then I  turned to less lofty thoughts... "Ow, don't turn your head Dana, those ear ones are tender." "Can you believe you're doing this? This better help. I don't know how many sessions of this I can take." "Is this even for real? I bet I could stick needles in people." And then I thought, this is what it's come to. This is how desperate I am!

Desperate. A word that I've used before but now am really feeling and understanding. The only pressure I've felt at any point in this process is self induced, and somehow I managed in ramp it up even more. I'm having trouble undoing that pressure. 

The ultrasound results were very positive. This was our first round of femara, and on day 13 we had a nice 22x24mm follicle. Right where we need to be. We'll know around our anniversary if April will be the month of Baby P or not!

Next: Grief. And a little hope.

Not pregnant

Seriously the worst words in the universe. For some people that would be good news, but I have never taken a pregnancy test and wanted that result. I will warn you, this was a rough time for me and this may be a rough post.

I just took a test and even though it *could* be too early to tell, it was one of the highly sensitive ones, and so it could have picked up on something if there was something to pick up on. I saw the single line and my heart dropped and I now have a headache and am sick to my stomach. As much as I knew this was the probable result after 3 previously failed cycles and the results of the ultrasound, a HUGE part of me wanted this cycle to work. I wanted to get pregnant immediately, with another little girl, or heck, two. That would be redemptive. 

I am just so darn angry that this is so difficult. Why? Why? Why? ALL I want is to be a pregnant. Seriously. I would give up our house, my new car, my closet full of clothes, all the little luxuries I enjoy, heck I would probably give up diet coke and chocolate forever if someone told me that would mean we could get pregnant when and how we wanted. Oh and carbs. And reading. 

I'm going to say something that will probably upset a few people but it's how I feel and that's that. The miscarriage was difficult. Heart breaking. Soul cracking. Faith rocking. It is impossibly difficult to grieve someone you didn't even know, but fell so completely in love with in a matter of seconds. You don't have memories to remember them by, and so many outsiders cannot relate. BUT. To me, the monthly (yearly?) struggle to get pregnant is a little worse. Yes, there isn't loss. But there also is very little hope. 11.5 months of pregnancy in 40+ un-prevented months doesn't make for good odds. Now multiple miscarriages, that's a different story. Something I can't comment on. But not being certain if 1) I can or will get pregnant again PLUS 2) the possibility of losing another baby takes such a huge emotional toll...

I am constantly consumed with thoughts about our family, our angel daughter, our potential future children and the possibility of having to find another avenue to complete our family. Constantly wondering if the drugs are doing what they should, if a good sperm got with a good egg and implanted or not. If I am a few weeks pregnant or just waiting for my period. If next month is going to be the trick. Is March 23rd going to be my due date? Or end of April? Or May? Or the summer? Or never again? 

Between my OCD, my type A-ness, my anxiety, and my control issues, this is something that is FAR too big to easily give up to God. I cannot figure out how to not think about it, not worry about it. Not wonder and dream and hope but also be realistic. That isn't my nature and if that is the point of all this drama then that stinks. How do I give it up? Does anyone have any advice? Has anyone else also been through something so big that they couldn't do it alone? I can not physically do any more than I'm doing right now. But I don't know if I can emotionally back off.

Next: 27 Needles