Shark Week in 3...2...1

This cycle, I was the most "unplugged" that I have ever been since we started trying to conceive (TTC). I didn't look at my tracking app other than to log ovulation and to check something for the doctor. I put in a few notes today when I felt familiar (unwelcome) cramping start, but I was a good girl for almost a whole month! I'm proud of myself - gold star! Now to keep up the good habits next month. :)

This will be another short cycle once the Red Lady (aka: Aunt Flo) arrives, but at least within the normal range. I wish my body would straighten itself out and decide what it is doing!

Since we're on the topic of periods, I will share two great period euphemisms that I learned today:

1) The commies are in the funhouse. (Think about it).

2) Shark week. (It slays me).

They're both great. I laughed a great deal when I read them in an email exchange with someone much cleverer than I. What are your favourites? (Seriously, cheer me up - spill!)

Survivor-ish

I have struggled for most of my life with some level of anxiety; sometimes minor, sometimes oh-my-God-my-heart-is-going-to-explode-please-just-kill-me-now. It often paralyzes me when I need to take action, and I live in fear of the "what ifs." I have to admit, though, that going through the absolute hell of losing Haven gave me some perspective. A lot of things are much less scary than I thought before. I'm less willing to put up with situations that are not benefiting me or are causing harm, or people who tear down instead of build up. I'm less afraid to risk, because I realize that, other than those I love, the rest of it just doesn't matter all that much.

There are a few situations in my life that are causing me great anxiety at the moment, but today I looked at it all and thought, "I am going to find a way through it, and even if the worst case scenario happens, it will somehow be okay." So I am trying to remember that. I have been through one of the worst worst case scenarios and lived to tell about it. I'm a survivor.

LG

Danny came home from a trip a few days ago and I have been soaking in the sight of him since then (I am a big hubby sook). I've been thinking that, despite it all, life is good. Despite my hurting heart, my anxieties, my fears, life is good.

I hope I can remember that in the coming weeks and months and years. What a gift for me and my loved ones to be mostly healthy. For Danny and I to have good, stable jobs and a decent place to live. To be able to buy groceries without eyeballing the price (after years of having to!) To be loved by my friends and family. 

Yeah, life is good.

Month Four and the Kicks

I think one of the cruelest physical symptoms left over from my first pregnancy is phantom kicks and flutters. I have mentioned this sensation before, but this just really, really gets to me. I've had them almost every day for the past week and every time I catch my breath for a second and think, "what if I am actually pregnant?" even if I know for sure that I am not at the moment. My mind goes wild for a few minutes... "maybe I am one of those rare cases where I continue to bleed every month but am actually pregnant, and maybe I'm also one of those rare women who doesn't get a positive pregnancy test for one of her pregnancies." Geesh.

It's just a cruel symptom. I don't know what causes them; I know it's not trapped gas, because that feels different. I wish they would end or, better yet, that there would be a real baby in there sometime soon who would give me real flutters and the reassurance that they are growing.

I keep a mini daily journal - just a few lines to describe my day, or to include a quote or thought. I recently looked back on last fall when I got that second positive and we thought for a few weeks we might have a second chance. I was surprised at how hopeful my entries were, and how excited. I don't feel I can muster much of those feelings anymore after 15 and a half months of grief and disappointment, then hope, then more grief and disappointment.

The last little hopeful part of me thinks, "you got pregnant in month four of trying last time...maybe that will hold true again this time around." Who knows? It would be kind of cool, because I would be due just weeks from when I was due with Haven if I were to conceive this cycle or next. The idea of it being so close totally freaked me out when we were trying last year, but now I think it would be kind of comforting.

And on with the day. Stupid kicks.

Recognition

"Boy, your body is just not the same after having babies, is it? Your abs just don't go back the same."

We were walking out to our cars after our Pilates class, where we'd both laughed as we failed at trying to do a full sit-up. I don't know her name, but she is quiet and nice.

I mumbled some kind of agreement and thought, what if she asks? What will I say? Does she know? I never know what to say.

I said, "yeah, it is just not the same." Dang, she is gonna ask...

"So you have a very young baby, do you?"

Pause. Panic. "Uhhhhh, I did, but she died. Oh goodness, that sounded terrible, I'm sorry... yes, I had a baby daughter, but she died."

She kindly said, "I am so sorry, I didn't realize."

"No, of course, it's not your fault. It just comes out so awkwardly sometimes."

We said our goodbyes and got into our cars.


On the way home, I thought, how did she know I was a mom? Then it dawned on me that I have a mommy body now. She could see my baby pooch and the same weaknesses presenting themselves in my body as in hers. It made me proud and sad at the same time to be recognized this way. I'm part of the club, but not really part of the club. My body was a baby home, but my arms stayed empty.

I drove home to my quiet house and now I am sitting here intensely missing my little love, wondering what she would be like now. My 15 month munchkin, drooling and giggling and causing beautiful chaos for her mom and dad. I know she would have been a character - she already was, even in my belly. When a child dies, they leave such a void. A lifetime of I wonders and memories you don't get to build. I have been thinking a lot about our second baby lately too. We would be in the final stretch now, just about ready to bring home Haven's little brother or sister.

I really took it hard when my period came this month, especially with Mother's Day right after. I can't help but wonder when? or...if? My arms just ache to hold, my body to give, my lips to kiss. I yearn to see my husband fulfilled as a dad, finally able to give way to all of that love inside him.

I wonder where we will be this time next year? Will we have a house that is alive again, or will I still be listening to the refrigerator hum? Will we be facing a life without biological children or will my womb finally be blessed again?

Grief is a winding road with no destination...

How to Let Go?

As I sit here facing the disappointment of yet another cycle where we didn't conceive, the seventh such cycle in a year, I can't help but think how hard it is to let go. I know that I need to let the hope die and just live my life, because the heartache every month is too much to bear. It is always a reminder of how much we have lost.

I often drive past an abortion clinic on my way to work and think, "what I would give to have those babies." On that same stretch of road is a pharmacy which I remember walking to when we were first married where I bought a pregnancy test; I was worried that I might be pregnant. How I wish now that I could shake myself and tell that version of me how wonderful it would be and to not be afraid. I can't believe this is my life sometimes...

How do I let go of the dream of a family and live my life? I wish I knew. For more than a year now, my daily focus has been on bringing another baby into the world, hopefully one that is screaming his or her lungs off. Even though a part of me feels that I will never have more babies, my mind can't wrap itself around that possibility. I watch the pregnancy announcements roll on with a numb feeling and wonder, "will it ever be me?" 

How the heck do I let go?

Swallow it Down

Some days it is very clear that I have a choice whether to be bitter or to embrace life. Some days I just want to give in, but...I usually just swallow it down and try to look forward. Other people's decisions and circumstances can't determine my own.

Yup, it is a choice, but it can be a very hard one to make.