tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49805159263407690542024-02-09T14:26:00.079-05:00Pure NessMy Heart Wide OpenVanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-9630753082789680702013-11-15T08:22:00.000-05:002013-11-15T08:22:23.611-05:00About Twitter, For TwitterTwitter can be amazing. Twitter <i>is </i>amazing. There are times when Twitter has been my sanity - almost literally. Twitter friends have talked me through anxiety attacks and depressive days. They've been an amazing resource for so many different topics, but especially with everything infertility and loss related, Twitter has been my go to for information, sympathy, support, and understanding. I was on Twitter before my life became consumed by these things, but when it did was when it really shone.<br />
<br />
I haven't been on a lot over the past months. There's been a few different reasons behind that I think.<br />
Some of my irl connections have been growing. I wouldn't say I have any "close" friends yet, but connections are growing, so I often don't feel quite as alone.<br />
Depression hasn't been as close. I don't need the support there that I have in the past. Anxiety still happens from time to time, but overall I've been doing better.<br />
I'm in a new stage of my life. This baby coming is amazing and I know my tweeps celebrate with me, but I always feel nervous about how much to say. I don't want to over share or overwhelm. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable or sad with my tweets about pregnancy or baby, so I don't tweet so much.<br />
And really, it's a bit of a chain reaction - I'm not on as much, so I feel less connected. I feel less connected, so I'm not on as much.<br />
<br />
I joined Twitter originally as a place to share and vent about things I couldn't often voice in the rest of my life - a place to just be me, hence the username @justpureness. Well, it's not really pure Ness anymore. I've gradually found myself becoming quiet on this topic or that one, hesitating to retweet this piece of information or pass on that article. Most of the time, there was enough else going on that it didn't really matter. I was connecting in other places on other subjects with the friends I'd made, and the things we might disagree on didn't take up enough space to make a difference. I feel like as I become a "new parent" again, that it's going to change. I'm afraid the divide might grow, and the things that consume my time and thoughts will be a greater cause for conflict should I speak on them.<br />
<br />
I don't want to lose the friends I've found, or the relationships I've built. They're important to me. You're important to me. I've gotten to know so many incredible people through Twitter and I care about you and what happens to you. I don't plan to abandon my account - now <a href="https://twitter.com/infertileNess/" target="_blank">@infertileness</a> - and I'll likely still check in about the same amount I am currently, doing my best to keep in touch and be a support to friends there, although I know I haven't been doing super great at that lately either. I'm sorry.<br />
But, I think I need to start fresh. I need a new account where I can be <i>me</i> a bit more. Me, a person who thinks Jesus is important, and if I don't spend time with him in my day it's just not as good of a day. Me, too conservative for most, and too liberal for the rest. Too religious for some, but not "biblical" enough to please the other end. I'm pretty crunchy, using vinegar to clean, baking soda shampoo, cloth diapers, and even cloth kleenexes, but you can find disposable diapers, Mr. Clean erasers, and all kinds of non-organic products in my house. I'm a fan of <i>Firefly,</i> Nathan Fillion, Wil Wheaton, and The Bloggess, but am content to never watch <i>Star Wars</i> more than the once I have, or another episode of <i>Dr. Who</i> (much as I wanted to love it). I think people who say grains are bad for you are most likely right, and I agree that paleo is probably healthy, but I still eat bread every day. I think processed food is bad for you, and that real food counts more than calories, but we have a "snack cupboard" full of sugar and chips. I'm a non-vaxxer, but not anti-vax. I think cry it out is hard on everyone, and doesn't usually have high success rates, but I know one size doesn't fit all. I've yet to be convinced that spanking is a good tool, but I don't think parents who use it are abusive. I'm frugal, but I love new stuff. I love nature, but I'm not so great at getting out into it. I love to sing and read, but somehow don't do a lot of either one anymore. I'm planning a home birth, but if it scares you, I don't think you should do it yourself. I think "screen time" isn't great for kids, but struggle to keep it from being all my son does. I love accessories - necklaces and earrings, scarves and hats, but on an average day, you're much more likely to find me in a comfy shirt and jeans with my hair in a pony tail.<br />
<br />
I'm pretty passionate about many of these topics, and a few even more controversial ones that I didn't mention, but I've leaned to not be so dogmatic in my approach to them. I make the choices I think are best for me and my family, but I don't think everyone has to agree with me. I do however want to be able to talk about them, even vent or rant about them occasionally, without living in fear that someone will be pissed off at me for it. So I'm starting a new account. I won't be surprised if I lost followers just from what I've written already, although I hate that that might be true, but if none of that phases you, even if you don't agree with it all, please come follow me at <a href="https://twitter.com/therestofness" target="_blank">@therestofness</a>. If any of it makes you uncomfortable or upset, I hope you'll stick with me at my original account where I won't talk about it any more than I do now. I hate conflict, and online debate is the worst of it for me, so I'm not looking to get into it with anyone, I just want to be able to share the truth of how I think without spending a lot of time worrying about how it will be received. Honestly, I'll probably still worry a bit about what people will think - I'm too much of a people pleaser - but to generally feel safe with these things and not disliked for them would be nice.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-12625691882819756912013-08-27T10:34:00.001-04:002013-08-27T10:55:39.157-04:00The Love of GodA family on Twitter experienced a second devastating loss, the kind of loss that shouldn't ever happen, but it does. Far too often. And hearts are breaking around the world.<br />
I see so many friends wondering where God is, and why he does nothing. Where are the miracles and the blessings for these faithful people? I want to make it better. I want to take all the hurting people, all my aching friends and wrap them in a hug, give them the answers and peace their hearts long for. But I don't know why God chose to not give life here, why he didn't stop this tragedy, or the million other great and small tragedies that happen every day; why he didn't prevent the grieving hearts that so many of my friends have from their own losses and from sharing in the losses of others. I don't why he didn't choose one of my six babies that went before. Why my heart broke so many, many times.<br />
But, I feel this little one kick, and wiggle, and I know he's real. I know he still moves, he still does miracles, that his love is deep and great. I carry a miracle. An amazing, awesome miracle. A gift. Why me and not so many other mamas that would give anything for their little ones? I don't know. Why this one and not JJ, Anastasios, Sayuri, Tacey, Aliento, or Nima? I don't know. But I do know, that even in those losses, his love was just as real, just as deep. I know he sat with me, and cared for me, and cried with me as my heart felt ripped from my chest. I know he never abandoned me, or hid himself, even when it felt like I couldn't find him.<br />
I know he's there, and I pray that every aching heart will be given a chance to see him clearly. That his love will surround the pain they carry, and the very center of their ache will know his comfort. I love you all and my soul calls to God to ask him to make it abundant in your lives, that somehow we would "grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ," even amidst the tragedies.<br />
<br />
<br />
My husband recently gave a sermon about <a href="http://www.cornerstonewesleyan.com/uploads/sermons/901.Aug%2018%20-%20Journeying%20with%20John%20-%20When%20Christ%20Meets%20Death%20(C11V1-44).mp3" target="_blank">grief</a>, and though I cried through the entirety of it, it was one of the best things I've heard. Maybe it will bring comfort to someone else, too.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-40307630759283020572013-07-29T09:41:00.001-04:002013-07-29T09:41:38.828-04:00Happy All the Time vs. The RealityTwenty two weeks pregnant. Baby T is kicking more every day. I can feel him getting stronger in there, and I think he's far more active than D ever was.<br />
So I should be on cloud nine, right? I should be. I wish I was. Instead I find that the hormone phases are dragging me down, and I'm struggling with depression. I'm finally here and I'm depressed. It took an extra measure of push to make myself get out of bed yesterday, and not just because I was tired. I haven't hit the "I'm not sure I can get up" stage thankfully, because that's a <i>bad</i> sign, but this is a little step further than I've been in a while.<br />
It only adds to the problem to feel like this should be a time when I'm incredibly happy and I'm not. It feels like I'm not appreciating it or I'm somehow betraying all the others who would literally give an organ to be in my position. I'm sorry. I really am. I want to be incredibly happy, but I can't seem to get there most of the time. I'm finally "making it", and I'm not enjoying all the moments.<br />
I hate to live feeling like this. When nothing feels worth looking forward to, when each day seems like another thing to get through, when my patience for my son is short and I, in turn, am short with him. When tears for how hard it is are often near the surface.<br />
A reassures me that I felt like this with D, which may not sound reassuring, but it reminds me that this will most likely pass, it probably won't be long term, or the beginning of a spiral. I know also that my previous hormone "swings" in this pregnancy have come for several days and then moved on, so I'm hoping for the same for this one. In the meantime, I'm realizing that I need to be a bit more proactive in trying to fight it. Hence this blog post - one creative outlet to try to process and diffuse some of the feelings, plus the crayons that came out last night to put some of it down in color. Back to decent bedtimes and more effort to get daily walks. Appointment with my therapist this week. Keep reminding myself that the light is coming. It will come.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhBU7nJUe2eJYCPNPqiZyYFKt587ZxOPIXar1Ra3mymEC13GXz9zQ2Cnm7zPciRCOjXDPZEFq1IR-8Uu9tB8w-f1CtCZYo5o_tKBw9dMB36O6aQBtQ_CqPvrPLGfeswPcXOiadTcw3GSR/s1600/_DSC3109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNhBU7nJUe2eJYCPNPqiZyYFKt587ZxOPIXar1Ra3mymEC13GXz9zQ2Cnm7zPciRCOjXDPZEFq1IR-8Uu9tB8w-f1CtCZYo5o_tKBw9dMB36O6aQBtQ_CqPvrPLGfeswPcXOiadTcw3GSR/s400/_DSC3109.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's not exceptional art, but its purpose is expression.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
My promise to keep him safe, both inside and out, from the depression and </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
anxiety that threaten.</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
According to my midwife, depression during pregnancy is not uncommon. Which doesn't really surprise me, but isn't something I've heard much about. If you're feeling depressed or struggling while pregnant, talk to someone. You're not alone. You're not broken. Bring it up at your next appointment. Your care provider can help you, even if you just need some tips for managing. And there are others out there who know what it's like and can give understanding and support. Also, prenatal depression does <i>not</i> make you a bad mother, even if it's trying to tell you that.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-45785073902739372822013-07-12T15:44:00.000-04:002013-07-12T15:44:10.669-04:00Joy and PainBefore you read this post, go check out this <a href="http://monkeyshenanigans.blogspot.ca/2013/07/monkey-addition.html" target="_blank">one</a> on our family blog. You've likely already seen it, but just in case.<br />
<br />
Waiting...<br />
<br />
You saw it? You know this already? A boy. We're going to have a boy! Two little boys in our family. It's awesome and great, and it's going to be so much fun, me and my little gang of boys.<br />
But.<br />
<br />
Aaron and I decided last year that we were going to try for one more baby, and then that would be it. The heartache of all our losses left its mark, and we felt we could handle maybe a couple more, but if we finally got to keep one, we would be done. We wouldn't put ourselves through that any more. After going through the early, anxious, on edge weeks of this pregnancy, that decision is only concreted.<br />
I had to go through a grieving process after that realization. I had always imagined my family with four children, with hopefully a brother and sister for everyone so no one would miss out on those great experiences. To accept that two would be all was hard, but eventually it became the new "dream" and I settled into it.<br />
Now there is a new grief. Because of this decision, I will never have a daughter.<br />
There will never be a little "me" running around, never a little girl with my dark curls to charm her daddy, and capture her brother's heart. No frills and fairies and fluffy tutus. I don't have words to capture all of the idea that "little girl" entails that now leaves a hole in my heart.<br />
When I was pregnant for the very first time, Aaron and I were in a store one day and passed by this adorable, melt-your-heart, soo pretty, baby girl's dress. We stopped for a moment to "aww" over it and dream together about being able to buy something like it for our baby girl when we had one, maybe this baby. We lost JJ shortly after, but that memory never left me and I always assumed that somewhere down the road would be my chance to buy that tiny piece of a dream for a daughter of my own.<br />
But I won't. And my heart hurts. I'm crying over the baby girls I lost, and the one I will never have.<br />
<br />
I know some won't understand this, and some might be critical of me for feeling this way. I should just be grateful to have a baby, shouldn't I? And I am grateful, but there is no "just" in this world. Feelings rarely come as singular entities. They bring their friends - companions from all the other experiences in your life that are tied to this one. I love every time I feel our little boy kick, and I'm so looking forward to when I get to meet him, to learning all about him and who he is, but I may forever miss the daughter I will never have. Joy and pain often go hand in hand.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-8811793139590939452013-06-28T22:02:00.001-04:002013-06-28T22:02:29.600-04:00Still KickingJust a very quick post to say, I'm here, I'm kicking, I'm alive. And so is Shiny I'm fairly certain. We're eighteen weeks now, and little flips, bubbles, and the very rare kick keep me going in my days, keep me smiling. It was a very anxious wait getting here. Once I hit fifteen weeks, I kept thinking like I should be feeling it, even though I knew it was pretty early, and every day that it seemed there had been nothing definite left me discouraged and a bit more wound up. The night after our church prayer group prayed over me that I would not be so anxious and that I would feel a definite kick - none of this flutter uncertainty nonsense - I was given a solid kick smack in the middle of my hand resting on my belly. What an amazing, incredible, joyful feeling. I'm so grateful for that kick, and for every movement I've felt since then.<br />
Next week is our anatomy scan, and I'm anxious about that as well. Ultrasounds always make me nervous now. The movements help calm my fears that we'll see a still and gone babe in there, but I can always find something to worry about. What if Shiny has club feet like my nephews? What if something is out of place? What if out of all those measurements something is the wrong size? I'm trying to trust God with this babe he's given us, but that is still such a struggle for me.<br />
In better news, we'll hopefully find out if Shiny is a boy or a girl! And, if you want to see a couple belly pics from sixteen weeks, hop over to our family picture blog, <a href="http://monkeyshenanigans.blogspot.ca/2013/06/mama-monkey.html" target="_blank">Monkey Shenanigans</a>!Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-38868773862368336812013-04-28T21:04:00.000-04:002013-05-15T10:34:15.269-04:00Steady On, One Day At a TimeI didn't realize just how long it had been since I wrote here. Certainly not one of my longest writing gaps, but in my current situation, it's a whole life time.<br />
Just in case anyone is waiting in suspense - I'm still pregnant! I'm currently 9wk3d, and things look good. We've been having weekly ultrasounds and watching this baby grow has been amazing. There's been a few bumps in the road - Shiny (our nickname for this little one) was tucked in the edge making it hard to measure them, so there was a little while where we weren't one hundred percent confident that they were growing properly. But in the following weeks, Shiny has measured right on track, and has consistently shown a good, strong heartbeat.<br />
There is also a small subchorionic hemorrhage, which means there is a bleed between the sac and the uterine wall. It's pretty common, but in the wrong place, or if increasing in size, it can cause miscarriage. That was a little unsettling to deal with, but it was never huge, and has gotten smaller since first found, so no one seems to be very concerned about it.<br />
<br />
So Shiny seems to be doing fine and holding their own. I on the other hand have been up, down, and all in-between. I'm getting steadier, and I know I haven't been quite as terrified as I was with Sayuri, or even with D, I think. There are a lot of people praying peace into my life, and for the life of this baby, and I believe it's making a difference. I do believe the verses that say God knows how to give good gifts, and I'm trying to trust them, and trust in his goodness, to put to sleep my inclination to think that he plans to bring pain into my life "because he wants to teach me." I really don't believe that God chooses pain as his tool for teaching us, although life is not without pain, and there is much we learn through it. I just don't believe he intentionally brings it to us.<br />
There have been many times in this pregnancy where unexpected kindnesses have come my way, like the stranger who asked why I was crying and gently reminded me to leave it in God's hands, and the never before received Easter card from my parents with crocuses on the front, a flower that will ever be tied to my babies; and times when tiny half-thought prayers have been answered, like when I knew 80 was my comfort level I wanted my hcg to be at and it came back at 81.6, and when after Shiny was not measuring properly and I hoped they'd measure 8wk1d at our eight week scan, just to know for sure they were doing ok in there, and that's exactly what Shiny measured. I have seen little touches of God throughout, and I am grateful for them and the reminders of his love that they bring.<br />
<br />
This week is a bit of a hard one since this is the measurement <a href="http://justpureness.blogspot.ca/2010/08/tiny.html" target="_blank">Sayuri</a> had when she stopped growing, so fear still comes and goes. We did request one more ultrasound because of this, even though the RE was going to stop with the last one. I know also that the disgusting nausea that I've been feeling could start to fade around this time too, so I'm trying to prepare myself for that and not freak out because of it. The nausea and exhaustion have certainly made my life difficult and my house dirty, but I'm so often grateful for it and the way it helps me to not worry as much. I don't remember feeling this sick ever before, so that in itself is encouraging (and makes me wonder if there's any truth to the idea that girls bring more nausea), although it leaves me not knowing what to expect since with D I had a "background" nausea through the whole pregnancy. Will I have this all the way through? Or will it give way at the end of the first trimester? I have no idea. Part of me wants it to hang around for the reassurance and part of me wants to feel better, especially since I know I'm not able to give D all he needs and deserves while I feel like this.<br />
<br />
So we're all hanging in there so far. Shiny is still with us, A is staying steadily hopeful, D is excited about having a baby (girl, boys apparently not welcome), and I'm relatively sane. Most of the time.<br />
<br />
<br />Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-54147855437633076832013-04-02T17:38:00.001-04:002013-04-02T17:38:21.715-04:00Prayers I BreatheDear Jesus,<br />
this is just me, trying to get through each day, desperate to hold your hand, to not give up on hope, to hold on to this life inside me. I'm praying and hoping and crying to let this baby live, to see a heartbeat, to make it through the first trimester with this little one still growing. It's different this time, and I'm just so hopeful, desperate for it to keep being different, to be able to hold this one, to cuddle them next to me, to see their eyes looking into mine, to watch for that first smile. I want this baby so badly, so very, very much. I believe you are doing a good thing, and I'm struggling with faith, with accepting that you do give good gifts, that your intention is never to bring great heartache into my life.<br />
Save me from the fear that darkens my days, that works to draw my heart far away from all that is light and good. Show me how trustworthy you are, renew my faith in your love for me, your complete goodness. Oh, father, grant me peace, and this tiny, precious baby. Let this one be mine to keep. Heal some of the great wounds that have been left on my heart. Please, rework this idea that you bring pain in order to teach, because even though I don't really believe it, apparently I can't completely walk away from it, it's so branded in my spirit. But I truly believe you are more than that, greater than that, that you don't work that way. "Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone?"<br />
I want to have complete faith in your love so that I'm not rocked by troubles that this world holds. I want to be able to rest completely in your presence without worry of fear for the future. Show me how trustworthy you are. How able to bring about good things. How you are willing to bring miraculously good things to me, for me. So many things you have brought me to trust you with - our finances, our home, our future employment - brought me there by showing me time and again how you've taken care of them for us. Please show me that I can trust you in this area, too. That I can trust you with this baby, that every positive sign of this baby's health hasn't been just a tease, the lead up to even greater heartache than it would have been without those things. Hold my heart so tenderly and carefully. Teach me how safe it is with you, how deeply I can trust you. Heal the wounds that have been left by the loss of so many babies before. So many "no" answered prayers. Oh, God, how much I want to walk forward with you, to be free of all the burdens my heart carries. I know that just having a baby can't make everything perfect, but I believe this journey, this pregnancy, can do so much good, learning to trust you again with each new day that I'm still pregnant and still afraid, still trying to learn your voice, to lean into it.<br />
Carry me, father, as I carry this one. Bring us both safely to the hoped for end. Oh, won't you please? Please, Jesus.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-47621771039453965292013-03-24T19:11:00.003-04:002013-03-24T19:16:58.552-04:00Up and Way DownOne moment I'm feeling hopeful, even a touch excited, the next I'm fearful, skeptical, afraid to let the hope rise. I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe that this isn't just like every other time. But so far, it's not.<br />
I'm pregnant, you guys. Pregnant with a possible future. This one isn't going to end at five weeks like so many of them have, or at least it really doesn't look like it. We did the first hpt last Monday, eleven dpo (days past ovulation), and there it was - so very, very faint. Like so many times before, I wasn't expecting it to go anywhere, so when we tested the next day and the line had barely darkened, I wasn't surprised. I called my RE's office to let them know, and they, of course, told me to come in for blood work.<br />
Wednesday morning, we got up and did another hpt before I went in, and this time, the line had noticeably darkened. It wasn't what you'd actually call "dark" though, and I was still pretty hesitant to think that this would be any different from the times before.<br />
Home and anxiously waiting for the results, I tried to keep myself busy and distracted, but of course, also looked up average hcg levels, and what the range was for 13dpo. It seemed like even 40 or 50 would be good, but I knew that I would still be very on edge and hesitant if that's what it came back. I decided that if it was at least 80, I would feel hope that this time might be different.<br />
My phone finally rang, and I'm sure my heart was in my throat. The perky little voice on the other end said, "It's good. It was positive - you're pregnant! Come again Friday and we'll do the repeat!" Um... that's it? I know I'm pregnant!! That's why I called you! I didn't actually say that part, but was I was certainly surprised that it seemed that was all she was going to tell me. "Do you have numbers for me?"<br />
"Oh! Sure I can give those to you. Just give me a minute to get them."<br />
Oh my word. Yes! I need the numbers! lol<br />
When she came back on the phone, she let me know that my hcg was 81.6. Just into my safe zone. I'm pretty sure, I just about started bawling. I didn't have betas done with most of my pregnancies, but I think it's a safe guess to say that I only hit that level twice before, and one of those was of course, my Bug.<br />
That number and the continually darker hpt's gave me hope that the repeat on Friday (15dpo) would be decent. It was. 237 - almost tripling.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7Bvb4n99g1moUcN4vxgUbghYIDf7jBEd-l1jBZr7ELR7UZzVJftg9lMwe2AZbHHwJhSrKa2XKN6CpZHnezLdyRLAz34-d9ieBBhMPZKs9nYAvmBB6sOLKPqLQ29y5JNMJmo3uezd4KFn/s1600/DSC_2409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR7Bvb4n99g1moUcN4vxgUbghYIDf7jBEd-l1jBZr7ELR7UZzVJftg9lMwe2AZbHHwJhSrKa2XKN6CpZHnezLdyRLAz34-d9ieBBhMPZKs9nYAvmBB6sOLKPqLQ29y5JNMJmo3uezd4KFn/s320/DSC_2409.JPG" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">11-15 & 17 dpo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
This is hard. The positive signs carry me for a while before I slide down again into fear. I had to do another hpt this morning and see the line be darker again, to help my mind move away from thinking that when I do this one more time tomorrow that the numbers will have failed to rise appropriately. Although, that's slowly leaking away from me, too. Apparently, my RE usually only does two betas if they're both good - I had to request this third one. What am I going to do after that? I have three more weeks before getting an ultrasound. Three weeks of trying not to analyze symptoms, three weeks of wondering if there will be pink when I wipe, three weeks of fearing that the ultrasound won't be able to show a heartbeat.<br />
I'm laughing at myself a little bit as I go over this post. It started out as a "hey, I'm pregnant! It's scary, but a little bit exciting," and has now dropped into, "oh my gosh, I'm so incredibly terrified! I can't handle this! I'm sobbing."<br />
Welcome to the next two months or more of my life. Hopefully.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-34353720482506317602013-03-10T17:35:00.000-04:002013-03-10T17:35:02.406-04:00Walking Away From SpankingWhen Bug was little, we started having a few situations where we needed to start teaching him discipline and set some boundaries. On the advice of someone I respect, we decided to "nip it in the bud" and started giving his hand a little smack when he would get into things he wasn't supposed to. As a time passed and he didn't seem to be changing his behavior at all, I became frustrated. The hand smacks were occasionally harder and more frequent. And it didn't take very long at all before Bug started hitting himself when he was frustrated.<br />
This was the point when I said, "There has to be a better way."<br />
<br />
I don't want to write a post full of facts, figures, and research, expect to say - there's tons of it out there. Do a quick google search and I'm sure you'll come across plenty of studies showing why it's harmful, papers on why it doesn't actually work, research on why it's not actually "biblical," and perhaps even the rarer information on how it can affect your child's sexuality. If you want to know, it's not hard to find.<br />
Instead, this is just my story, sharing with you the reasons why we choose not to spank.<br />
<br />
We started out on that journey, but as you can see, it didn't seem to go anywhere good. I didn't see it actually having any kind of positive effect on our son's behavior. It wasn't in any way guiding him to learn self-discipline. Now, yes, he was <i>very</i> young, but if you could teach impulse control at that age, why wasn't it working, and if you can't teach it, there certainly isn't any point to trying through physical punishment, is there?<br />
On top of not seeing any positive effects, we saw two negative effects. Bug began hitting himself. As I looked into it, I learned that it wasn't unusual behavior in toddlers. But my mother heart knew that my hitting him was connected to this new act of hitting himself when he got frustrated, and it hurt my heart.<br />
The second effect we saw was in me. Since it was now acceptable to hit my child for unwanted behavior, the whole "never spank when angry" line began to blur. I found myself more likely to smack his hand than choose a different tact when discipline was called for, and more likely to do it out of the frustration I felt in the moment. It's not hard to justify it then either, because when your child is two, you can't come back fifteen minutes later and try to explain why you are now smacking their hand for something they might not even remember doing.<br />
I knew that my <i>own</i> self-discipline required me to say, "no smacking/spanking <i>ever</i>." It had to <i>never</i> be ok for me to hit my child, or the sometimes ok would become often ok. I am very ashamed to admit that even now there are rare moments when the end of my temper is reached, and in reaction to being hit repeatedly by him, I hit back. I don't like to share that, but I want you to know that I'm not perfect, and definitely don't think myself to be. I feel like a failure when I fall down that slope, but so far, Bug has always been forgiving when I tell him it was wrong of me and offer my apology.<br />
<br />
Since that time, there has been a lot I've learned and considered about child development, relationships, and my view of God that sent me down a path of non-punitive, grace based parenting and that continues to keep me on this path. Now, there are a lot of reasons why we choose not to spank, but these were the first ones, and I'm grateful we learned them so early on.<br />
<br />Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-89756240796597999692013-03-06T23:49:00.000-05:002013-03-06T23:49:49.563-05:00Grace for the Mom of ManySo, I understand being pissed off at moms who don't seem to care about their kids, angry rants about mothers who always complain, annoyance at new pregnancy announcements, frustration about those who seem to just keep having babies no trouble whatsoever, and utter rage at those who mistreat, harm, or even kill the children they've been given. I get that.<br />
I get how unfair it is to be going through the heartache of infertility and loss and to look around to see so many others having babies as though it's a walk in the park. I know it's difficult to strive so hard for something that others just seem to take for granted, or even don't have any appreciation for at all. I know this and I understand all related rants that I hear.<br />
What I don't understand is the occasional hatred, venom, or insult directed at moms for just having multiple children. I know it can be hard to see when you wish you could just have one, but does it really make them worthy of insult? I don't think so. They are just women, moms, building their families with the freedom we all wish we had. Their ability to have children easily is not related to our inability to have children. The number of children they have does not decrease the number we can have. Their small, medium, large, extra large family is a freedom that has been taken away from us, but not by anything <i>they've</i> done.<br />
We love babies. We think think babies are wonderful, and everyone who wants one and will love one should be able to have one. Don't we? Or is it just the women who don't already have babies who should be able to have one?<br />
Most of these women are just moms, like we want to be. Loving their family, trying to be the best mom they can for them. They are women with emotions and feelings just like us. They are women who want and love all of their children. They are women of whom many have also experienced the loss of a child they were waiting to hold.<br />
I know many mothers of large families and I can imagine how they would feel if they heard some of the comments I read about them, sometimes comments that I know they <i>have </i>heard in person. How do I know? Because I remember my mom, a mother of five, telling me about the "joking" words that were sent her way from people at out church when our family was growing larger, comments about "rabbits" and "do you know how that happens?" And I can still remember the pain on her face even though those comments were well over a decade old.<br />
So rant about how it's unfair that they can and we can't, how it hurts to see others do it so easily, how you wish you could just have <i>one </i>and how much you would appreciate that one,<i> </i>but maybe we can skip the name calling and mean comments, eh?Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-29775213949653617442013-02-26T17:24:00.001-05:002013-02-28T22:23:25.825-05:00Unexpectedly HardI didn't expect this. I was all prepared to deal with another light pink line indicating another miscarriage, potentially even a few of them before we would be successful or decided to stop all together. I wasn't looking forward to it, but I knew what it would be like, and in a way, how to handle it. I knew I would survive and keep on, because I'd done it before. I was as ready as I could be to go through the loss.<br />
I wasn't ready for two months of negative tests. Ha! I know how ridiculous that sounds. Even in the world of fertile people, two months is nothing. Nothing. In the infertile world, it's entirely laughable. So I understand if my words get under your skin, but bear with me please - I know that you do understand what it's like to stare at the empty space that would <u>radiate</u> pink if wishes, hopes, and dreams could force our bodies to bend to our will, and feel utterly disappointed. "Disappointed." It's not nearly a strong enough word to describe that feeling really. That moment when your soul seems to cave into yourself and the grief adds another layer to your already burdened heart.<br />
So I know many of you have been through months and months of negative tests, and then following that months of painful procedures and meds that screwed with your body and mind - and <i>then</i> stared for the zillionth time at that empty space while your heart broke again. I know this doesn't compare, but I know at the same time that many of you have learned compassion for those going through different journeys experiencing pain in different ways, maybe even if it sounds ridiculous to you, so I'm bringing my courage and sharing with you still.<br />
<br />
In some ways, I feel like we've experienced a strange mix of hyper-fertility and infertility. Remember that article that was going around a few months ago about recurrent loss possibly being caused by hyper-fertility - a woman's body accepting any fertilized egg, even if it wasn't a healthy one? Yeah. That made so much sense to me, because honestly, we've never had trouble getting pregnant before. I remember one time that it took us two months. That's it. But of course, six out of seven didn't stick around, and most of them were gone before the five week mark was reached. <br />
So ridiculous as it sounds, this is new territory for me, and I really wasn't prepared for it. This has all hit me harder than I ever would have expected. I mean, shouldn't <i>not</i> being pregnant be better than going through another miscarriage? You'd think, right?<br />
They do say that we seek the comfort of the familiar, even if that familiar is not really comforting. So I guess that's what I'm going through. As painful as the miscarriages are, they're familiar now. Two months of negative tests in a row - not familiar. Unfamiliar is scary to me. This is weird, new territory, and I'm not sure what to do about it. The very first time we decided to ttc, I knew that it could take a few months, or even several months before we were pregnant - I actually expected that. But then it only took one and has been that way ever since. I've dealt with the occasional negative during times we were trying to avoid pregnancy, but thought we might have slipped up; I've dealt with strong pink lines that led to weeks of utter fear, and for one, high hope brought crashing down to "no heartbeat;" I've dealt with staring at lightly positive tests knowing that I was staring another miscarriage in the face. I've never dealt with repeated negatives.<br />
<br />
Seeing each negative test is bringing all this grief that I didn't expect and I find myself struggling to move past this cycle. Why is this so hard?! It's only two months of trying. Why am I still so incredibly sad about this? Three days ago, I knew that I really, really wasn't pregnant (although it took me another day to completely 100% believe it), and today I still woke up dragging through a deep sadness that doesn't want to let go. I need to get my life back into balance, to get a flow of normal, productive, giving-my-son-the-time-he-deserves kind of days, before we head back into going through all of this again in a few weeks. I need to be ok for just a little while.<br />
I knew this year of ttc was going to have its difficulty and its hard times. I apparently just had no idea what it would actually be like.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-53978295696975717592013-02-17T17:27:00.001-05:002013-02-17T21:27:05.044-05:00Wait, Pray, HopeI finally did it. I stood in front of my entire church and told them (very briefly) my story. (Our story really - I'm not alone in this.) I totally freaked out the day before, trying to figure out what I would say and realizing that I was about to share intimate details with not just friends, but strangers and acquaintances. The verse "bear one another's burdens" came to mind, and I knew it was confirmation that I really needed to do this. No one can bear my burden with me if I don't share it.<br />
The anxiety followed me Sunday morning as the church service got closer, but sitting in the worship and listening to the songs brought my focus back to Him and with it enough peace to steady me. I know that my voice wavered as I told them about losing JJ before we had Dune, the year we lost Anastasios, Sayuri, Tacey, Aliento, and then finally, Nima last summer. I heard it crack as I asked them to pray that we would be granted just one more baby to keep. I felt the hope and the sadness that flowed as I spoke of my desire to come to the end of this story with heart whole, faith strong, and spirit resting in Him whether we were granted a baby or not.<br />
They surrounded us and covered us in prayer. I felt blessed, loved, and tiny part of me healed.<br />
<br />
Since I ovulated the night before this, it kind of felt like the perfect timing, and certainly my hopes have raised considerably. But, you know what happens with higher hopes - the harder the fall is when it happens. So with my hopes, my fears are high. I'm struggling to find a continuing measure of peace each and every day. The anxiety attacks aren't frequent, but there is a consistent background anxiety that I recognize through feeling often on edge and somewhat testy with my family. I briefly found myself frustrated with going from a place where I was ready to accept a short time with my next baby and going through another miscarriage, to a place where I was thinking about/hoping for a full term pregnancy and healthy baby and the idea of loss was shooting a bolt of terror through me. I don't need or want that terror.<br />
Now, I'm working on seeking peace for today. One day at a time trusting in God's love, reminding myself to that I <i>can </i>trust that love through each day, whatever that day ends up holding. I really haven't got this down. Several times a day I have to take a deep breath and focus on his love, to bring myself back to today, to let "tomorrow worry about itself." I don't know how I will hold up through this week. I'm hoping this gets easier instead of harder, but it doesn't usually work that way. So pray for me that I won't fall apart by the end of this wait.<br />
<br />
Physically, I feel like this cycle is different, that I'm likely pregnant, and while my husband will tell you that I've said that several times when I <i>wasn't</i> pregnant, the getting pregnant part has not been difficult for us historically, so there is indeed a decent chance. Of course, I'm also having the low backache that seems to have become a regular part of pms and was always a sign of an impending miscarriage when I was pregnant. But then that has also recently started coming before I've even ovulated, so maybe it's become something that I will experience no matter what the state of my uterus happens to be. There are no answers! I'm trying (and trying and trying) to not think about it all very much until the end of the week when I will actually have some idea of what's happening.<br />
<br />
Wait with me, pray with me, hope with me, won't you?Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-63371232865741250112013-01-31T21:33:00.001-05:002013-01-31T21:50:21.386-05:00The Fight for RestFiguring out all of this "rest" stuff is turning out to be way harder than I thought. I knew I needed to stop holding myself to these standards that I wasn't sure I could ever reach, but what exactly should my standards be? I mean, I need some, right? I can't just sit around all day, call it rest, and be happy with that life, as appealing as that sounds a lot of the time.<br />
As I'm trying to figure out how to make a restful life without simultaneously feeling like a lazy ass who never does anything, it occurs to me that it's not truly rest if you haven't worked, if you have nothing to rest <i>from</i>. I know! Epiphany! So after I get past feeling slightly ridiculous that this is <i>just</i> occurring to me, I can process the fact that I need to work at my life, to live with purpose<i>, </i>to put in effort, and then rest will be truly restful.<br />
Figuring out my current purpose is not too difficult. I'm at home with my son, which I believe is exactly where I'm supposed to be. Teaching, guiding, and building that relationship is possibly (probably) the most important thing I'll ever do. The difficult part is figuring out how to do that. What is this supposed to look like? I have this idea in my head, but it's the one that stresses me out, making me feel like I'm just never going to get this right, this life style that I'm just not sure I have the ability to accomplish. You know, the shiny family in the shiny house, where the mom has done her prayer time, her run, her shower, and gotten everyone fed and dressed by nine when they all sit down for a morning of school work, with an afternoon of "fun" stuff like science experiments and all the children (it's always multiple kids, you know) playing nicely together outside to look forward to. She also does all the cooking and makes most things from scratch.<br />
Even though I'm trying to get our mornings trim and smooth, it still takes me until around eleven to get all of that done, and my kid doesn't even <i>get </i>dressed. Our days don't have a schedule, or routine, or even a decent rhythm really. Bug spends 50-75% of his day on the computer watching things like toy reviews and Power Rangers on YouTube. Some days that number is more like 90%. I often get to the end of the day and wonder where my time has gone and how I didn't manage to get anything accomplished or spend any real time with my son.<br />
So, I need a new frame work, a new picture. I want more than we've got, more than this feeling of skimming the surface of every day, floating through them never really getting anywhere, and I can't keep putting that "perfect" ideal on myself. It's only real result is to make me feel like I can't get it right, and emphasize the "I'm a failure" days that come occasionally. I know that I need something that works for me, for us; a flow and structure that suits our personalities, that plays to our strengths. I need to find <i>our</i> ideal life. And this is where I'm finding some of the difficulty.<br />
I used to have a pretty good idea of who I was and what I was good at, and of course some of that stays with me and continues to be true, but that was before I was into this role of mother. I don't know who I am as a mother. I don't really know where my strengths are, how to use my personality and spirit to our best advantage. I don't know what kind of lifestyle is ideal for our family, or what will help us flourish and bring purpose to our days. I know with just one four year old, I'm a relative newbie to mothering, but you'd think I'd have <i>some</i> idea at this point.<br />
So I'm struggling to figure this out, to take tiny baby steps forward. I'm wrestling every day with trying to identify myself, to see where we are doing ok, where we need work, which step of change I can make today. I'm nervous, scared really, because often change isn't lasting around here, and what if it all falls apart in a week, and I just feel like a failure again? What if I never really figure this out, and we end up wasting every day, letting it slip through our fingers, until I look back and realize years of our lives have gone by simply vanishing into nothingness? I'm definitely a little bit lost (and freaking myself out right now), but I'm still in the fighting stage, and all I can do is pray that I will keep fighting until I find some solid ground to pull us up onto. I have a lot to figure out, to learn, discern, and I feel like I'm wading through muck and fog searching for light and dry ground. But over the fear I have strength, perseverance, and hope.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-91790382716581584182013-01-04T16:40:00.000-05:002013-01-31T21:34:05.127-05:00Both Resting and TryingI've never been big on new year's resolutions. They always struck me as a bit ridiculous and I've never seen anyone actually carry them out. I never had any desire to set myself some vague or impossible goal that would leave me feeling like a failure in a few weeks. A few years ago I started to see a few bloggers post about "<a href="http://oneword365.com/" target="_blank">one word</a>." They chose one word to focus on for the year, a word to pursue or try to incorporate in their lives.<br />
This idea is so much more appealing to me, so last year I decided to try it and chose the word "joy." I can't come out and say that it was amazingly life changing for me, but I do feel that it had a positive impact on my year and life. Especially through the season of Advent and Christmas, I felt as though my spirit was working it's way to a more present and consistent joy in my life.<br />
This year as I took some time to think and figure out what word would fit for this year, the first one that came to mind was "peace." Seemed like a good word, but not quite the right one. So I'm sitting there, reading my bible, and the word "rest" occurs to me. In many ways, it's not that different, but somehow it just seemed like I had found the word that fit. A focus on making our home and family a place of rest, a time of trying to stop holding myself to my perfectionist standards and never feeling like what I'm doing is good enough, and consciously working on letting go of worry and letting myself rest in God's hands. Rest.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWchgE1bEl3h7Wlah7wkjForWTxFfJVX6OH8E3r1qTRoifF4HYPECgn-SfpzucQyptgeA3NlHfNB82ivlMKy0XdFlGMc2a6T0B7tV5RFCTptSTYBlrLUMH4UeMeoDF7j1-cRfEaMKJXES7/s1600/crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWchgE1bEl3h7Wlah7wkjForWTxFfJVX6OH8E3r1qTRoifF4HYPECgn-SfpzucQyptgeA3NlHfNB82ivlMKy0XdFlGMc2a6T0B7tV5RFCTptSTYBlrLUMH4UeMeoDF7j1-cRfEaMKJXES7/s320/crop.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My quiet spot</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I know there is a lot in my life that will intertwine and weave through this word, but I think it is going to be especially fitting as Boy and I have decided to dive back into trying to conceive. We've decided to give it our all, to "actively" try to have a baby. We know that this will likely bring more miscarriage and loss into our lives, and I feel somewhat sad about that, but strangely not anxious. I feel like I can handle it, and I'm "resting" in allowing God to plan our family even though that may mean that our family expands only through children we won't get to hold for a long time. But this year, this year is it. Even if I manage to be restful and non-anxious about this, we know that ttc will bring a certain amount of stress and turmoil to our lives. Boy and I agreed that one full of year of all in is where it's time for us to stop. Unless something big changes between now and then, we don't feel it would be fair to keep doing this any longer than that. If there is no baby/on the way at the end of the year, we figure out how to grieve the loss of a bigger family and simply enjoy the family we have already been blessed with.<br />
So, here we go. One year of learning how to rest in God, to create rest, to enjoy rest, to pursue a restful spirit, and to try, hope, and pray for a baby.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-50312801033748147822012-11-28T14:27:00.000-05:002012-11-28T14:27:48.129-05:00To My TweepsI'm thankful to all of you who replied to me this morning, especially those who said they would miss me or would like me to stay around. I will directly reply to some of you, but all that I'm feeling right now is just too much for Twitter, so I figured this was the best way to get it out there.<br />
<br />
In the really horrible times, whether tragedy, loss, or just a day when I can't get on my feet is when Twitter shines. You are <i>always</i> there for me in those times. Always. And for that, I'm hugely grateful. You've gotten me through some seriously rough patches and kept me from feeling alone and lost. I know I can always count on encouraging words, sympathy, empathy, and a little extra strength when I'm really down and out, and I'm sure I won't ever give that up.<br />
But I've been struggling with Twitter on and off since summer. I was offline for a couple of weeks and it felt like no one noticed. When I came on and mentioned how I felt, you were there to welcome me and send me love, and I climbed back into the twittersphere. But I'm not sure that my interaction level has ever really come back up since then. Part of it was conscious decision since I'd seen how much extra time I had and I knew I wanted to get some priorities straight regarding my family, and then I think part of it wasn't conscious. I just had a bit more trouble connecting, and I'd read, but often feel like I just didn't have anything to add anymore and the connections I had seemed to not be as strong as I thought they were, so I was a bit discouraged and not sure how much effort to put in. When I'm not on continuously and constantly engaging and replying, the few times I do tweet get little to no response. Natural maybe, but still lonely feeling.<br />
I look around me on Twitter and I see people with relationships that go beyond Twitter - text, email, phone, lovely packages in the mail, and honestly, I want that. I want to make <i>friends. </i>I want to be needed, I want someone who checks up on me, who thinks of me during their day, sends me a link because they think I'll find it funny, someone who I can call on, and who knows they can call on me whenever they need something. There were a few relationships that I thought were moving in that direction, but as I go along, it seems the gap is widening, not closing, and I fear that, at most, I'm a second tier friend for these people. Now, realize, this is not blame placing, I'm not angry or feeling betrayed, I don't think this is "their" fault. I'm just seeing that things are not the way I thought or hoped for them to be. And, really I'm not sure how to get there. I've put a lot of effort into engaging others and offering support and help even when it wasn't easy, trying to show that I intend to be a friend (you know -"you've got to <i>be </i> a friend to <i>have</i> a friend" and all that), but it didn't lead where I'd hoped. Again, no blame or anger, just noticing that I'm still not really connecting.<br />
I'm also finding myself in a weird place in life that is making it difficult to connect. I want another baby, but I have no idea how or when to pursue it. It's all on pause, but at the same time it's not, because I'm sort of mentally working towards it, placing my foot tentatively around me trying to figure out where the safest ground is. I'm also trying to learn to be content with my life as it is now, and give my <i>current</i> family the attention and acceptance they deserve. So many of you are having babies now, and while I'm not upset about that (quite happy you are), I'm kind of numb in that area most of the time, just disconnected with it. Most of you who aren't there yet are pursuing it actively and while I've gained a huge education since meeting you all, I'm still a little confused about all process and procedures you are going through on that road. So there are two major groups where I often feel that I have very little to offer and I'm just kind of in this no-man's land occasionally bumping into someone on the edges that I manage to exchange pleasantries with.<br />
As I read replies, it seems like this isn't unusual, and many find Twitter to be a bit of an ebb and flow of friendship, and some decide to take breaks when the connection ebbs away for a period. I can understand this, but if I'm finding greater distance in my relationships when I'm not constantly interacting, what will happen if I disappear entirely? Plus, that obviously won't fill the desire I have to find and build friendships.<br />
I'm not really sure where I'll go from here. I've certainly considered taking a break from Twitter entirely, but my great desire to connect at least a little might not let me. I tried making a list of a few I'd like to continue making a concentrated effort on building relationships with, but my phone won't let me read a feed from it. Maybe I'll make a whole new Twitter account? I have no idea. I know I've been grateful to you time and again, and I'm sure I will be in the future also. In the meantime, anyone who wants to connect on Facebook, just let me know.<br />
Much love to you all.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-50606883359095552742012-10-26T18:20:00.001-04:002012-10-26T18:26:44.191-04:00Making My GoalOver the winter, I ran on the treadmill. Fairly regularly, although I know I took a few two week breaks here and there. By the time spring came around, I'd managed to do a 5k treadmill run. My first 5k ever! It was awesome, adrenaline pumping, and emotional. I definitely cried.<br />
Come warm weather, I was anxious to be outside, to run in the sun and feel the wind. The first time I got out, I could barely run one kilometer. I was so incredibly discouraged. I cried here, too, but they were not happy tears. I kept running, and had a lot of discouraging runs. I didn't realize how much harder it would be to run outside. Harder, yes, but not that much. I made it a goal to run be able to do 5k outside by the end of the summer, and if possible, I really wanted to enter a 5k race somewhere.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/About/General/2009/8/10/1249927517503/A-pair-of-Vibrams-FiveFin-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="192" src="http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/About/General/2009/8/10/1249927517503/A-pair-of-Vibrams-FiveFin-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not me, but those are the shoes I run in.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All of that fell by the wayside when I got pregnant, and then even further away when I miscarried. It took me months of saying, "I really need to run," before I finally got back out there. Boy and I even bought a jogging stroller so we could run together and it still took us several weeks before we used it.<br />
When we finally got our act together and got on the road, I was discouraged. Again. I practically passed out from lack of oxygen trying to get to one kilometer, while Boy was jogging beside me, talking as normally as if he was standing still. Ohmygosh, I felt so demoralized. It sucked.<br />
We did another run or two before falling off the wagon again for a week or so. When we started up again it was all a bit easier, and I kept significantly increasing the amount I could do with each run, filling our 3k with more and more running and less walking. It was nice to feel like I was finally getting somewhere, but the days have been getting significantly colder here and so many of them are rainy. The nice days for running outside may be coming to an end soon and then I would be back on the treadmill inside.<br />
This morning it was chilly, but the weather was nice, so Boy and I headed out. I hadn't run in four days, and felt tired. I knew I was going slower than usual. On my last run I'd done 2k before walking and I wasn't sure I was going to make it that far today. I got to 1.5 and wanted to stop, but realized I didn't <i>need</i> to, so I just kept going. Two kilometers ends just before a big hill, but I decided I wanted to try to keep going up it, and then I knew I really wanted to do the 3k straight through, instead of with a walk break in the middle like I'd done last time. So I kept going. And I did it. My legs felt wobbly and I knew that old people with walkers could easily outpace me at the speed I was going, but I was running.<br />
Boy decided that we were going go to 4k instead of that being enough for today. I could walk for a while, but then we were running again. Um, no thanks. I felt kind of pissed at how he just decided that for me. Um, I did good today, thankyouverymuch. But then I walked. And realized that I could run again. Probably to four, so why not?<br />
We're going and I'm doing ok, and suddenly I think, "F**k this. If I'm going to do keep going, than I'm going to keep going. I'm going to <i>run</i> 5k today."<br />
I knew it might be the last day we'd be outside running, at the very least for a while, since it's supposed to cold and rainy all week. Maybe it wouldn't be straight through, since I needed a 350m walk break, but when I got to the end, I was going to be able to say I ran five kilometers on the road.<br />
And I did.<br />
<br />
It wasn't exactly my goal since I'd been hoping for one continuous run, but today I ran 3k, walked, and than ran another 2k. And I sure as heck am going to count it. I made my goal to run 5k outside by the end of summer! Well, close enough.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-74546332471932081792012-10-15T18:56:00.001-04:002012-10-15T18:56:19.036-04:00Mama of Seven<i>I wrote this post and first shared it on <a href="http://www.thefrugalfoodiemama.com/2012/10/on-wings-of-angels-mama-to-seven.html" target="_blank">The Frugal Foodie Mama</a>'s blog, but I wanted to post it here as part of my story as well. <a href="http://www.thefrugalfoodiemama.com/" target="_blank">The Frugal Foodie Mama</a> has a great blog that is about, well frugal fantastic food, and being a mama. She also shares her </i><i><a href="http://www.thefrugalfoodiemama.com/2012/10/the-evening-my-blissful-ignorance-was.html" target="_blank">story</a> of the two babies she lost in early pregnancy. I invite you to check out her blog and share some love.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Whenever I meet someone new, I harbor a tiny feeling of dread for the moment I get asked <i>that</i> question, especially when that someone is a parent. What do parents like to talk about the most? Their kids. Somewhere in that initial conversation, you're bound to get some variation of the question, "How many kids do you have?" Doesn't really sound like such a horrible question does it? An innocent conversation maker. How do I always answer?<br />
"Just one."<br />
Just one. Except I don't have just one. I have seven children. Seven. There's just only one on earth with me. I hate answering that question. I always feel a little bit of guilt, a small feeling of betraying my other children, because they all deserve to be recognized, to be known, acknowledged. I love them all, I miss them all, they are all part of my life, of what makes me, me. Part of me longs to answer, "Seven," or, "One on earth." I want people to know I have all these wonderful, amazing children, but except for the very, very rare time, I can't bring myself to do it. It opens me up to questions I don't always want to answer, things I don't necessarily want to share with relative strangers. It would make people feel sorry for me, or just sorry they asked the question in the first place, because "<i>Woah.</i> That's far deeper water than I was intending to get into," and then the conversation becomes all awkward and stilted. I don't want to be the one to bring a dampener to a casual conversation.<br />
I think that if I could just say it casually, a simple statement of fact, that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but then I'm afraid that I'll appear callous, making little of miscarriage and related losses, the permanent mark left on my soul. Or be reinforcing the idea that miscarriage is not a big deal, sad, but you get over it, you know? But <i>it is</i> a big deal. It's huge. It's heartbreaking and life changing. And you don't really get over it, you just learn (or try to anyways) to accept it as part of your life. The losses become part of who you are.<br />
I also have trouble answering this question as honestly as I want to, because I don't want to be known as the women who had six miscarriages. I don't want this to be my identity. I <i>have</i> had six miscarriages, but more than that, I am <i>Mother</i> to seven children. Seven children who I love dearly, six who I miss daily. One amazing boy that I get to cuddle, hug, and put to bed every night, and six that I love from a distance. I call them by name, I tell them how much I love them and I miss them. I tell them how glad I am that they are happy and that they have each other. I remind them to look out for one another, even though they really don't need to do that there (the mother in me can't help it). I ask Jesus to give them the hugs I so long to give to them myself. I can see them, how beautiful and strong they are. I see how kind they are and how full of love and joy, and I'm so incredibly proud to be their Mama.<br />
Despite my guilt at not acknowledging them, at not sharing with the world that I have six more wonderful children, I know they hold nothing against me. They love me without hesitance, despite <i>my</i> hesitance to bring them up in casual conversation. They have no needs from me, they simply love me as I am, as I love them. They know how proud I am of them, and with this post I will find a way to begin telling everyone else how proud I am of them too.<br />
<br />
- Vanessa, Mama to JJ, Dunadan, Anastasios, Sayuri, Tacey, Aliento, and NimaVanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-75515406830702229242012-09-18T14:45:00.000-04:002013-03-24T19:23:54.039-04:00It's Break TimeSo I was gone from Twitter for a few weeks. I didn't really intend to do that, it just worked out that way. And honestly, it was good for me, because as much as I love Twitter, it can be kind of consuming and energy draining. I wasn't being tossed by the waves of ups and downs of two hundred other lives - although I know I missed some big events that I feel sad not being there for - there was enough waves in my life to deal with. I wasn't filling every spare second with catching up - although I'm so totally out of the loop now - and I had time to read several books, and spent my evenings with my husband instead of with him and a long list of people, many of whom I don't even know their first names.<br />
Don't get me wrong - I love Twitter. These people have been there for me when there was no one else. They've understood me in a way that my "in real life" friends and family can't. And they allow a certain anonymity that grants the ability to share some of the dark spots and hidden parts of my spirit that few others get to see. They're a safe place.<br />
So I love Twitter and the freedom I had from Twitter. Somehow I need to find a new balance, to keep the connections without letting it rule my life.<br />
And I do have connections. At least a few. Part of the reason my absence was this long was feeling like no one missed me, and what was the point of coming back, if no one even noticed I was gone? But apparently at least a few did, so - here is why I took a break and what was going on with me while I was gone.<br />
<br />
The why -<br />
First, my phone broke over four weeks ago, the screen shattering when it was knocked out of my hand onto a concrete patio stone. We sent it to be fixed, but they keep having to wait for parts, so I've been completely without a phone since then. When we made a getaway to the cottage for a few days, there was basically only Boy's phone, so it just made sense to completely disconnect for a little bit. It was good and I just keep on extending the break, especially since my days seemed to be extra full. There were a few extra things on my schedule and we spent some time preparing for a visit with friends we hadn't seen in six years, and then, enjoying that visit! It was so fantastic to spend time with them again and meet their children that had been born since they moved away.<br />
<br />
The what -<br />
Before I left I shared that my older sister found out she was pregnant, which meant both my sisters were, building their families as they wished, and now, doing it at the same time, sharing something I might not be able to do again. I didn't think about the possibility of it being worse, but it was when she miscarried the next week. My heart was totally crushed to hear her pain, to know what she was going through, and especially to be so far away and not able to come and take care of her. And it was weird to feel this tiny bit of relief that my best friend and supporter now knew what I'd been through, even though I would have done anything in my power to keep her from experiencing that.<br />
<br />
Next - I had realized that my timing had been off in this past cycle and there was a chance I could have gotten pregnant. I'd love to be excited about that possibility, but really I was just terrified. I'm so not ready to handle another miscarriage yet. And as an aside, I was worried about how to tell my sister after her <i>just</i> going through a loss. It's hard enough months later - the <i>week</i> after? OW.<br />
So, I was in that place where everything is interpreted as a pregnancy symptom, and I was having trouble not freaking out on a daily basis as I got closer and closer to the time when I would find out. After having a big break down the day before my period was due, Boy decided we were going to test. I was so grateful to him. I couldn't bring myself to "give in," feeling like I was wasting a test, wasting money, being weak not able to wait until the next day when my body should tell me for sure. I needed that permission he gave to just do it and find out what the answer was.<br />
When the test was absolutely, completely, unmistakably negative, I broke into tears. Sadness? Nope. Just relief. So much relief. I <i>HATE</i> that. Hate it. I hate that I'm relieved not to be pregnant. Not even a slight hint of sadness over it. I <i>want</i> to have a baby, to carry to term, to give birth. So so much. But far more times than not, pregnancy is only the beginning of a miscarriage for me. Being pregnant just means pain, heartache, grief. So, relief. I can't handle it again right now.<br />
<br />
A few days later, my younger sister had her ultrasound and found out that she was having a girl. Her first daughter, the second granddaughter. So now both of my sisters have their boys and a baby girl. It made my heart hurt. I wouldn't trade my son for a whole handful of daughters, and I'm not sure if I can explain, but I've been waiting for my daughter since my first pregnancy. We've had two girls name picked out almost since we got married nine years ago. I'm not going to be able to use them both, and maybe I won't ever use either of them. I may never have a baby girl that I get to keep and hold. But there is nothing to do but say congratulations and try to be happy for her. So I did.<br />
She made her Facebook pregnancy announcement that night with an album of bump and ultrasound pictures, each one an ache in my heart. One ultrasound picture was the announcement of the baby's name as well. Middle name is our older sister's first name. Dang, it still hurts. I mean, my older sister is fantastic, she deserves the honor, but it's just this permanent reminder that my younger sister picks her over me. That our relationship isn't awesome and she will probably never think me worthy of such honor. Even knowing she wouldn't likely ever use my name for a child, this conversation was probably the worst part of it all - Me: Congrats, again. It's a pretty name. [what else am I supposed to say, right?] Her: Thanks. I couldn't decide and I was worried I may never have another girl HA, [boys run in her husband's family] so we just used all of our favorites!<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><br />
<span style="line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ow ow ow ow. To give her credit, I don't think that she has any idea how hurtful and insulting that was. None of this is intentionally trying to hurt me. She's just kind of self-absorbed sometimes. Which isn't really that much better, but she's not mean, just thoughtless occasionally.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">So. Normally, I'd have Twitter to share all of that with, but I just couldn't bring myself to piecemeal it the way I would need to to share it there, or to go over it multiple times, or even just the energy to write it out at that time. But life has been emotionally challenging, and there is more that I'm working through now which I'm not quite ready to put out there yet. Some time later this week maybe. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="line-height: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I'm so ready for a break. From emotional upheaval this time, instead of from Twitter.</span>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-52791951064527691802012-07-20T15:57:00.000-04:002013-02-17T16:23:18.625-05:00My TreasuresFeels like I should be writing a new post. I mean, I've been telling myself for months now that I should write, because it's been so long. I've only written four posts this year, and the last one was May and it wasn't even a real post. And of course, now I've got something really truly to write about, but somehow the drive just isn't there. The emotion that usually pushes me to put something into words is missing right now. I'm just kind of, well numb isn't really the right word for it... cold. Like I'm shutting it off. I don't want to get into right now. Or maybe I really am calloused to it at this point. Except I know that's not true. I guess I'm just temporarily hardening myself.<br />
But for some reason, I'm sitting here writing and I know it's going to come out sooner or later. I'm not sure that anyone who reads this blog doesn't actually know already, because I think all my readers are on Twitter, but somehow it feels like I still need to keep things up to date. For my own sense of order I suppose.<br />
And crap, I just thought of their name, "Nima" and the shell is starting to crack and the tears are filing my eyes for the dozenth time today.<br />
I think it was a girl. Boy thinks it was a boy. Neither of us will ever know for sure in this life. Whoever they are, they are <span style="background-color: white;">now </span><span style="background-color: white;">safely with their brothers and sisters. I know that Nima probably knows more about them than I do at this point, but I'm glad I took the time to tell "her" about them while her life was still with me. I know JJ looks out for them all, not that's there's anything to look out for over there, but he's a good big brother, a true, gentle leader's spirit. Anastasios and Aliento are good brothers, too. One strong, quiet and deep, like a warrior, and one full of giggles taking delight butterflies that land nearby and energetic puppies that cover your face in slobber. Sayuri is full of energy with a strong spirit and a great mothering instinct, just like her aunt, who I'm sure she looks like. Tacey - gentler, a bit dreamy, but with a heart overflowing with love. My children who I've never had a chance to meet, but about whom I feel I've </span><span style="background-color: white;">received</span><span style="background-color: white;"> tiny glimpses of who they are. </span><br />
And now there is Nima. I don't know much about you yet, but oh how I love you. From the moment I knew of you, I was your mama. I will always be your mama and I will always love you. I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet you, to see what you look like, to learn all about your personality, to kiss you, teach you, cheer you on, hold you when you cry. I know that now you are full of life, of love, of happiness. You will dance and play with your brothers and sisters, pick flowers, chase shadows, climb trees, all the wonderful things childhood should be made of. You will never know any pain or sorrow and your life will be truly perfect because you will never know any barrier keeping you from the pure, undiluted love of Jesus. There will never be anything that will come between you and him, no reason that will ever make you doubt or question him, nothing that keeps you from truly knowing who he is or how very much he loves you.<br />
I'm so sad that I never got to meet you all, that you were gone before your bodies even finished forming, but when I think of you together, in that perfect place, I can't help but smile at how happy, how free, you all are and I'm so glad you have each other. You are truly my treasures in heaven.Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-84509619385582586532012-05-11T18:27:00.001-04:002012-05-11T18:28:11.741-04:00Words for Mother's Day<br />
I know that many churches aren't good at dealing with infertiles in their midst, and Mother's Day is especially hard. I was impressed and happy to read this in the this weeks's newsletter that our pastor sends out:<br />
<br />
<i>To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you </i><br />
<i>To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you </i><br />
<i>To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you </i><br />
<i>To those who experienced loss this year through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you </i><br />
<i>To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is. </i><br />
<i>To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms – we need you </i><br />
<i>To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you </i><br />
<i>To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you </i><br />
<i>To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you </i><br />
<i>To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience</i><br />
<i>To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst </i><br />
<i>To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you </i><br />
<i>And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you </i><br />
<i>This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you. We honour you. We love you.</i><br />
<br />
From me to all my lovely friends - may this Mother's Day treat you kindly, no matter where you find yourselves on this list.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A quick web search leads me to <a href="http://messymiddle.com/2012/05/10/an-open-letter-to-pastors-a-non-mom-speaks-about-mothers-day/" target="_blank">Amy at "The Messy Middle"</a>. I'm not entirely certain, but it does seem that she actually wrote this piece. Thank you, Amy, for your thoughts and heart.</span>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-84296015564859888672012-04-28T12:35:00.000-04:002012-04-28T12:48:10.430-04:00Getting ReadyEvery time we take another step towards being ready to try to conceive, my stress levels take another bump and I spiral a little farther. Everything becomes a bit overwhelming, and I'm wondering what the heck I'm thinking considering doing this again, especially since I'm so obviously failing at everything already on my plate.<br />
<br />
I ended up doing another panel of blood tests when my current doctor finally got all of my records from my previous one. There were a lot of clotting factors that she wanted to check that hadn't been done yet. I have the result from all but one of the tests so far, and they are all normal. I should hopefully have the last result in the next few days and that's it - testing is done, there is no where else to go from here except ttc. I'm currently on cycle day five, so that means we are facing this possibility <i>in the next week.</i> Those of you who saw my meltdown yesterday may understand some of why that happened. It's been two years since we decided to try to have another baby, and a year since we stopped after four losses. Getting back on this horse is pretty fear inducing.<br />
After my initial collapse, and sobbing out all my feelings of failing at life, and not feeling capable of handling the things already in my life, while Boy tried really hard to be a good listener, which then led to a little nap, because I was oh so exhausted, we had a long talk. About our family, how we really like the way it is right now, but how I still have moments where I don't feel like it's finished, how I wonder if it's really fair to put everyone through the stress of ttc, and possibly more losses, or pregnancy after loss, and then the newborn sleepless nights and months of teething, and getting Bug to adjust to a new sleeping arrangement, and having to share Mama and "sidey," and going through three years old again, and ohmygosh, is it really what I should be doing?! And how can I choose this if I'm the only one in the house that wants a baby? Cause Bug says he wants a baby, but he really has no idea what that will mean to his life and the single-childness that he's come to know over the past four years. And Boy has always said that he's perfectly content with how our family is now, and he's fine with trying for another one, but it was basically for me, because I wanted one. Which has been ok in the past, but at times, especially now, feels like he doesn't really want another baby, and would prefer if we just stopped this craziness cause one child was ideal for him. So how do I keep going if he would rather we didn't and is only doing it for me? He tells me my needs and wants are important, too, but I guess this is something I struggle with and it just feels so unfair to put myself above them on something this big, difficult, and life changing.<br />
Boy tells me that he can't put that on me. He can't say that he wants another baby, because if it doesn't work he doesn't want me to feel guilty for not being able to give him another child. I know that this is a likely thing, so I understand his point of view. He also talks about the other side of it and not wanting to say that we shouldn't do this, because he doesn't want me to resent him in ten years because we didn't try. But, as we continue to work through all of this, he makes this statement, "I want another baby."<br />
I knew I wanted him to be with me on this, or to at least know that he really wouldn't prefer to have just one child, but I didn't realize how much difference it would make until it was there. I feel more freedom in this now. I can go forward on this now, knowing that I'm not pushing something on him that he doesn't really want, and that he wants this with me. It's still hard for either of us to feel with certainty that the risks of going ahead are preferable to just stopping and staying where we are - I mean, if we are just going to go through losses and pain and not end up with a baby, then that doesn't really outweigh just staying as we are - but we both would prefer to have two children in our family. For me, this is a joyful thing. I'm so glad that I can share this with my Boy. I know this could be a very hard journey, but now I feel a bit more ready to start it.<br />
<br />
<br />Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-38167015064794120912012-03-07T16:52:00.003-05:002012-03-07T16:54:00.459-05:00I'm Not OkI'm not ok. I know that I've not been doing very well for the past few days, but now I'm beginning to wonder if it goes deeper than that. The idea is kind of scary - I'm broken enough, I don't need mental/emotion issues on top of what's already there - and then what do I <i>do</i> if there are bigger problems? I just don't know if I can handle this.<br />
Next week, I go for blood work to see if the thyroid medication I'm taking is bringing my TSH levels down to levels that are healthier for pregnancy. This is the one thing we've found to try for my unexplained recurrent losses, so if the levels are good we start "actively" (you know what I mean) trying to conceive again. Basically right away. For the first time in over a year.<br />
I'm really, really scared.<br />
Even though I've been doing my best not to obsess about it, and spend great chunks of time not thinking about it, it's getting to me. I feel like I'm entirely made up of stress and emotions. There is this weight in my chest that is just pulling me down. I'm this weird combination of numb and panic.<br />
Every now and then I have a moment of calm and clarity. I feel ok, "I can do this. Even if I have another miscarriage, it will be horrible, but I can make it through. I've done this before. I will survive." But mostly, the possibility freaks me out. At one point I had hope that something would work, would make a difference to allow my body to carry a baby to term, but lately all I can feel is that it's just not enough. Tinkering with my thyroid is just not enough to make a healthy environment for a baby. How could something so slight be the whole reason that they keep dying? How could this tiny adjustment be a fix? It's not going to be enough, and I'm either going to lose another baby, or just not get pregnant at all. The hope is so small, that it's almost non-existent.<br />
Should I give up? I ask this now and then, and I know that somewhere I have my breaking point, somewhere is the place where I have to just stop before it consumes me. But, I can't do it. Not yet anyway. I'm driven by a need for another child. A need to give my Bug a sibling. I know many people choose to have only one child, and I don't for a second think there is anything wrong with that, but for me, I feel like I'm doing my son a huge injustice if I can't give him a brother or a sister. Like, I'm keeping him from one of life's great experiences. I'm sure some of this comes from growing up in a family of five kids (not always roses and ice cream certainly, but my sister is one of my closest, most trusted friends), since Boy - an only child - doesn't feel this way at all. I feel like my family is incomplete. I've already given up my ideal of having four children, I just can't see it as an option anymore, but to concede to having only one? I can't. let. go. It certainly doesn't help that lately Bug has taken to telling us that he wants a baby sister, mentioning all the things he'll share with her, and occasionally asking, "Is that our baby?" when he sees another little one in life or pictures. I keep telling him we are going to try to make another baby, but it doesn't always work out; but of course, he doesn't understand any of this at all. I mean, despite our trying to explain how we hope to have a baby, he still doesn't understand that we can't just pick one out of a picture, or take home the little girl from church.<br />
So I'm kind of a mess. I'm trying to focus on positive possibilities, but it's so hard. The negative ones are screaming at me.<br />
<br />
This morning, Boy had his weekly meeting with the senior pastor. They talk about work, and life, and keep in touch on all things important. Today Boy shared what was going on with us right now, and how we were close to trying again. I don't know the full discussion, but there was mention about how I was handling it all, and SP wondered if I had fully processed my grief from all my losses. When Boy mentioned this to me, at first I was just pissed off. "How does any one else have the right to say I'm not ok? He doesn't even know me that well, he has no idea how I'm doing!" And honestly, I like this man. He's been nothing but kind and helpful to us since before we moved here. So maybe my immediate defensiveness is not really a good sign.<br />
As I talked with Boy and began to think about it, some memories came to mind. Over the past several months there have been more than a few losses with all of my Twitter friends. With all of them, I feel great sympathy and heartache for those going through the loss. But, there have been a few that have shared starting with a tweet much like this, "I'm spotting." Reading those tweets makes my stomach plummet, my chest constrict, and my spirit scream, "No, no, no! Not again."<br />
Wow, even writing those words, I can feel my heart beat faster, my breathing get shallower. As I keep writing, the tears threaten and I can remember exactly how I felt every time the first signs of pink showed on the toilet paper - that frozen panic fear.<br />
See, this doesn't seem like a good thing. I think maybe I'm really not ok. But, what do I do about it? The idea of trying to deal with another problem is just overwhelming. I've already got so many things in my life that I'm trying to figure out, how do I handle one more?<br />
And - it's March. The weather is warming up, Spring is trying to sprung, green things are growing in my garden. It's the time of year where I've always felt myself coming to life again, felt energy renewing after winter and the slight depression that it brings. It was always a time of joy for me. Until I lost my first baby as the crocuses bloomed. Three years after that I had my second loss at the very end of February, and then a year later had my fifth loss, also during the month of March. I love Spring and finally feeling the sunshine on my face, but it brings waves of grief, bittersweet memories of seeing the first flowers bloom, celebrating my first baby, not knowing it was all going to end in a few days. This season now brings me an odd combination of joy and sorrow. Maybe some of what I'm going through right now is simply part of all of this. Maybe this year, this season will bring renewal, and a bit of healing through new life, not just outside, but maybe also within my womb. Maybe this year will bring redemption to March.<br />
<br />
<br />Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-75371035123490107742012-01-01T15:45:00.000-05:002012-01-01T16:18:10.419-05:00New Year, Same Old FearLast year about this time, I wrote a <a href="http://justpureness.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-blues.html" target="_blank">post on the new year</a> and feeling skeptical of what it would hold, worried that it would be as bad as the year before it. As this new year is staring me in the face, I'm not sure I feel much differently. 2010 was a year of loss, 2011 was a year of waiting (waiting on doctors, waiting on tests, waiting on answers, waiting on a job), and now 2012 is here and we have a job, a doctor, and what very little answer they could give us. So now it's time to try again.<br />
There are moments when I'm excited and hopeful, but it's hard not to feel the fear. I <i>want</i> another little one. I've actually always wanted four. I thought four would be pretty perfect - avoid the middle child issue, and if it worked to have two boys and two girls, everyone would have a brother and everyone would have a sister. Perfect. In the past few months it's been concreted in my mind that our family will most likely never have more than two children. It's so sad to me. It's been a very hard thing to come to terms with, but I don't think I can go through this again. The losses, the fear, the anxiety. I'll persevere until I have another baby (or until I just can't anymore), and then that's it. I'm done. It breaks my heart. Even if we could figure out what exactly was wrong and how to fix it, I will be getting past the age where I wanted to be having children. I know I'm not <i>that</i> old, but I think I imagined that by 35 I'd be done, not part way through.<br />
Anyway...... Fear. Fear is mostly what I feel now. Not overwhelming, not yet, but there. Whenever I think about this year ahead, I'm a bit afraid. We are still figuring out our new life in this new place, with Boy's new job, figuring out what things look like here - how much time will work take, how stressful will it be, what kind of schedule will Bug and I figure out, who will be our friends here, will we <i>have </i>friends? It's all a bit unsettled still with uncertainty having it's own small factor of fear, but the biggest thing we face right now is trying again. Trying to get pregnant and stay pregnant. We tried for over a year with no success, and as each pregnancy seemed to get shorter in duration, I've wondered if I've gotten to the place where I will have trouble getting pregnant at all.<br />
We have no real answers for all our losses. Despite all the tests, there can be found nothing wrong with me. Except something isn't working properly or we wouldn't be here. Right now our RE is recommending that I try thyroid meds, because my "high, but still normal" levels may or may not be a contributing factor. So that's it. I go on some drug, <i>hope</i> that it makes a difference, and dive in. Just a little bit terrifying. I don't know what I face this year. Will it be loss? Will it actually be pregnancy, which I will never again be able to get through without feeling varying levels of fear, from just a bit anxious to paralyzingly terrified? Will it take us months to get pregnant, worrying, afraid that somehow I've come to the place where I can't do it at all?<br />
Oh Jesus, save me from the fear. This is not the life I want to lead. I don't want my moments to be wrapped up in the unknown and what it might mean to me. I want to live freely, vibrantly, <i>expectantly</i>. Trusting in Christ, God's love for me, has always been hard. Some of my experiences have made it harder still. I have not completely healed from all of that, from the pain of loss, and the bitterness it can bring, but I know that I'm not done yet. I am closer to Jesus than I was last year, and I believe this year will be bring me closer still. I have been able to recognize his love in my life more clearly, and I've felt as though those nerve endings that connected me to the Spirit have been slowly reviving. I imagine that it's similar to what someone with temporary paralysis might feel as things begin to heal. A tingling at first, ever so slight movement, a long slow process before full feeling, mobility, and strength are returned. We're early stages yet, but enough to give hope, to let me know that things are far from over.<br />
So I'm afraid. But, I'm not content to let that be all. I am moving forward in my fear, trying and figuring out what it means to trust Jesus when nothing is certain.<br />
Right now, the word I see what I look ahead to this year is "fear," but hopefully, when we get to the end, I will be able to look back with something much more positive, like "healing" "renewal" "strength" "comfort" or even "baby."<br />
<br />Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-89776863998940979312011-10-27T21:01:00.001-04:002011-10-27T21:51:39.716-04:00The Not So Much of an Answer AnswerResults time. All the testing done, from the 17 vials of blood, to the horrible biopsy, to the not so horrible sonohysterography, and the other blood tests in between. I felt ill as I headed to the appointment today, nervous about what we would hear.<br />
<div>
It really was a bit anti-climatic as we sat there listening to, "You're healthy. The biopsy came back negative. The sono didn't show anything wrong."</div>
<div>
As it turns out the only things that have shown up are some slightly elevated hormone levels and a TSH (thyroid) that was on the high end of normal. A lower TSH level is more ideal for pregnancy, and the hormone levels are often connected to poly-cystic ovarian syndrome although I don't really have any other symptoms. Dr said she would recommend some cycle monitoring to keep an eye on the hormone levels to see what they were doing over a longer period of time, possibly thyroid medication, and then monitoring and progesterone once I got pregnant to give the baby an optimal chance. </div>
<div>
There is one test that we don't have results from yet, and that's the genetic testing. It is possible that those answers will come back and will reveal an issue that will have been the main cause of all our losses, and that will be daunting since as far as I know there won't be anything we can do about it. I might be wrong - I haven't looked into it that much, but what do you do if your genes are screwed up?</div>
<div>
Since we are moving next week, Dr is going to give us a referral to a clinic in our new city, and we will see about pursuing some of these options. I'm still not really sure how I feel about all of this - the meds make me nervous, and knowing that there is still a pretty decent risk of miscarriage doesn't really help. I'm really not much farther ahead than I was before, and I want to be able to try again, I want to have another baby, but what if there are just more losses ahead for me? What do I do with that? How much more can I handle before I give up? How successful would all of this be and how much would it screw with me on the way?<br />
There is so much going on right now, so I will wait until the new year to focus on all of this and figure out what exactly to do from here. </div>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4980515926340769054.post-58309951154896627312011-10-07T23:55:00.001-04:002011-10-15T23:41:44.744-04:00Fall Frenzy Is there anyone out there who <i>doesn't</i> have a crazy life? Because mine just seems to go from craziness to craziness. There is so much going on and it's only going to get worse over the next weeks. So I know that despite really only having a tiny bit of time to write tonight, that moments like this will get harder to come by. This will be my attempt to get down at least the main details of everything that's going on, even though there is so much going in my head that I want to write and share, too.<br />
<br />
<u><b>Part One</b></u><br />
My <a href="http://justpureness.blogspot.com/2011/09/weight-of-wait.html">last post</a> was all about how we were waiting on word for a job that Boy really wants. If you aren't following my <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/justpureness">Twitter</a> feed, or just missed it - he got the job! It's looking like it will be an amazing job for him and an amazing place for our family. I'm pretty sure I'm very happy with it, but for some reason, our excitement over it has been a bit lacking. I think it may be that we are somewhat overwhelmed with all we have to do and I know Boy is feeling anxious about this new and more intense position. Also, saying goodbye to family and my home town certainly carries it's own sadness. Hopefully, once we get there and start unpacking and meeting people, we will have that enthusiasm come back!<br />
Things were greatly dampened as the job offer came in when, it did in fact, include the condition that we only bring two cats. I wept and sobbed and decided along with my Boy, that this is what we would have to do. We needed this job and the hope and future that came with it.<br />
While still very emotional, I asked Boy to send a request begging (yes, I used that word) them to please reconsider. I had little hope they would do so though, and began to inquire with friends if anyone knew of a good home for our poor kitties. I was especially worried about one girl, knowing it would be very hard to find a home for her and that we might have to make the decision to put her down. She's a skittish little girl who doesn't like anyone to come near her, pick her up, or generally exist. Oh, and she tends to pee on things. Who wants a cat like that? (Heck, most of the time we don't even want a cat like that, but she's our cat, she's part of the family, and that's what you do.)<br />
Then - surprise. They really did consider our words and think about whether they could change this condition. And they did. We could bring them all! They did place a few conditions on that, but none of it was more than we offered to do in the first place. I am so very relieved to be free of the burden and sadness of finding good homes for four kitties. I am very grateful that we get to keep our family - and that I don't have to try to explain to Bug where are kitties are going.<br />
Now to be completely honest (cause this is my honest space), it can be a huge pain to have so many cats. After spending a few days adjusting my mind to what it would be like to have only two cats, I am feeling anew the burden of six. Transporting them, vet bills, expensive food, keeping them out of bedrooms, cleaning up hairballs or vomit every couple of days, and of course, the joy of coming across something that has been peed on. I disconnected from them a bit during that time, and while I still love them and would hate to say goodbye, I can see how much easier our life would be without so many, and I'm closer to being willing to let go of them than I've ever been before. I'm not sure I would openly admit this to anyone in real life, but there it is.<br />
Everything else on this storyline is going well. We put our house on the market and had an offer accepted, conditions waived, in one week. Our realtor said it had been a long time, since he'd seen a deal come together this quickly and smoothly. Just another confirmation we are on the right road.<br />
We hired a U-Haul, the biggest they have, and then worried that we still wouldn't fit, so we got a trailer for it too. Boy was pretty anxious about driving this and happened to mention it to our new pastor/boss. He found someone to drive the <i>six hours</i> down here with him, in order to drive the truck back up the next day. How amazing is that? And I think this is only the first sign of what a great church family this is going to be.<br />
We seem to be doing well with packing, as the boxes pile up to the ceiling, and it looks like we will be on track to be ready before we need to start loading the truck! (not always the case for us) We do have a few things going on that make this a bit more challenging for us though.<br />
<br />
<b><u>Part Two</u></b><br />
For over a year now, I have been moving towards trying to find some answers as to why I'm having so much <a href="http://justpureness.blogspot.com/search/label/miscarriage">trouble carrying a baby</a>. It took months to get in to see an OB/GYN, and if you've been reading, you know <a href="http://justpureness.blogspot.com/2011/07/still-standing-still-as-my-heart-aches.html">how much of a disaster</a> that turned out to be. After that, I knew I needed to take greater measures, and I contacted a clinic in Toronto. I was still pretty nervous that I would get all the way down there and they would give me the same, "sorry, can't help you," that I'd already heard, but even on the phone they sounded friendly and professional, and I was assured more than once that my own experiences and home pregnancy tests would be taken seriously.<br />
My appointment finally rolled around this past week. We did the 90 minute drive while my phone chirpped with the never ending, ever so valuable support from twitter friends, and I worried that it would be a huge gaffe taking Bug into a fertility clinic, despite the fact that I had been told that was just fine. We had a bit of trouble finding the clinic in the huge building, but with a bit of help, we arrived on time. I was immensely grateful to see that not only was it ok to bring a little one, but it was also expected, as Bug immediately spotted the a children's area off to the side.<br />
Meeting with this doctor was like night and day from my last experience. She was quiet spoken, professional, friendly, had the ability to listen, took the time to explain things, allowed me time to ask questions, and most importantly of all, told me my early losses did indeed count in the puzzle of my fertility. She didn't necessarily know what they meant, might not be able to figure it out, but they were important and she was going to see what she could find.<br />
She heard my story and then took me step by step through what she wanted to do, pausing to make sure I followed along and agreed with everything. The first thing we did was blood work. I counted and they took seventeen vials of blood from me! I've done blood work before, but definitely never that much at a time. Next week I go back down for an endometrial biopsy. She explained it as doing a pap, but going deeper to get a tissue sample. Since I really don't like doing paps, and have never had one that didn't hurt, I'm really not looking forward to this. I have two more blood work requisition forms and will have to call later to book a sonohysterography - an ultrasound where they use a bit of saline to expand your uterus to get a better look inside. Also not looking forward to that.<br />
She's been very understanding of our imminent move and has worked to get as much of this done before we are four hours away from the clinic. It's making our days that much busier and giving me that much more stress, but I'm appreciative of her efforts to take care of us.<br />
At the end of this month, maybe we will not only have a new home, a new city, and a new job; maybe we will also have some answers, some hope, and some help, giving us a chance to add another precious little one to this precious little family of ours.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">If anyone has any info, tips, or encouragement on these procedures I'm looking at, please share! I'm quite intimidated by them and will welcome anything that would help them go smoothly.</span></i>Vanessahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14768473078536830905noreply@blogger.com9