Five Years

Five years ago I had my first d/c.

That d/c left me reeling... I also learned I had an ectopic pregnancy that day and got a dose of methotrexate. I came home and started googling. I'm sure I came up on one of Julie from a little pregnant's blog and decided to start my own at that point. What a wonderful and strange journey this blog has taken. I've come a long way and in that time I also learned a lot about myself and my husband and about the world wide web where I have made many friends.

Five years ago I did not know recurrent miscarriage was going to be my diagnosis or luteal phase defect for that matter. Five years ago I still had rose colored glasses. I thought this was just a blip in the road. Who knew that that would be the beginning of our journey.

This blog still serves a purpose and infertility is still a part of my life. We'll be delving back into the whole ttc business in the fall, so I'm sure I'll have lots to say come then.

Thank you for coming and wishing me a happy bloggiversary. I'm still here. I'm still standing.

Time Does Heal Some Wounds...

Four years ago I had my first d/c which I then learned was an ectopic. Three years ago we received the news that a rest cycle pregnancy was not viable... who would have thought lightning could hit twice. It did... and two years ago I spent the 15th under the covers with a doppler and poking my belly in the hopes that Squeaker would a) stay in there and b) live. Last year I spent the day enjoying Squeaker.

Today I did the same. This is not meant to say I don't still have bad memories of the 15th, but I'm making new happier memories of this day. It's the day before my birthday. The day before my bloggoversary... It's what lead me to this wonderful community. I have a lot of things to be thankful for... including...

Nanna will be coming back. She misses me... she misses Squeaker... she misses Dan.

The Day Before My Birthday...

It is just after midnight and I'm looking back on June 15th and what it means to me... Since 2005 this has not been a day I think of fondly... This is the day that started it all. This is the day that left me reeling, trying to find my footing and trying to make sense of what seemed impossible. This is the day that brought me to my knees not once, but twice.

But this is also the day that started my search - granted the first search was for "ectopic pregnancy" and "methotrexate side effects" and all of that, but it lead me to blogs and eventually on July 7th, 2005 this blog became what it is. That was when we only had 3 dogs -rather than 6. Ahh the 3 dog household what a difference 3 more makes..

This blog became what it is because of June 15, 2005. One day before my 27th birthday... this was before we had multiple miscarriages, before we had been to an RE, before we had even thought it would take 2.5 years and 12 pregnancies to have our son... this was the day I thought I was going to just have a simple d/c and instead found out we had an ectopic pregnancy. This is the day that repeated in 2006 and found us with yet more awful news... and it found us last year huddled under the covers not doing anything - no doctor's appointments, just us at home with a doppler listening to Squeaker who was then the Not Negative... We did not reclaim this day last year, but this year damnit it is going to be reclaimed.

I am done looking at the calendar and seeing June 15th and feeling dread. Yes, this day is something I will always remember my losses on, but it doesn't hold the power that it once did. I need to reclaim it so that I can reclaim my birthday. Everyone deserves to celebrate their birthday rather than dread it and this year more than most I think I deserve that. So - since it is Father's day today and my husband is now a father we're going to celebrate the day at least the afternoon as D has to work tonight. Squeaker and I are not going to huddle in our beds with the cover over our head... we're going to go out and we're going to enjoy ourselves. I may take a few moments like now to remember those losses and to be sad, but I won't barricade myself away from the world and I won't dread my birthday. This year the wounds are healed- still scarred, but no longer fresh and gaping... and we have Squeaker to thank for that. He's healed those wounds without even trying.

I'm reclaiming June 15th... I'm going to celebrate my husband's first Father's Day as a father and I'm going to hug Squeaker like he'll always be small... and I'm going to remember those pregnancies that did not come to be... but I'm not going to hide anymore on the 15th of June... it's time to reclaim it as the day before my birthday rather than as something awful and horrible. Because I am strong... and I have already walked through the fire and while I was burned and bloodied, I came out the other side and there's this little person who needs me to be strong.

Did You Remember What Today Is?

My mom had the audacity to ask that question of me today. My response of - "Of course I know what today is, but I didn't want to mention it to you unless you brought it up." Was met with a brief "aha".

Four years ago - my dad died. My mom still grieves for him. With all the problems at my childhood home (the pipes freezing) which caused a tremendous amount of damage. My dad I'm sure heard all about it as she still occasionally goes to his grave and yells at him for whatever has gone wrong with the house. I know it sounds irrational, but if that's what she needs to do, then that's okay by me. A few people are hounding my mom to either sell the house or have it demolished. She admitted to me why she can't do either of those things... she feels if she gets rid of those things she's losing the last connection she has to my dad. They picked out the house together. I'm not one of the few encouraging her to sell or demolish. Yes, it would make my life easier not to have 2 houses to worry about, however I recognize why she has to have the farm and am on board. D is as well.

I still think of how my dad would have reacted to having a little boy named after him. I wonder what he would have thought about my little boy. I know he would have loved him unconditionally. I know he would have enjoyed Squeaker just the way he is and he would have embraced the nickname "Squeaker" and just ran with it. He would have spent hours making my son giggle and grin by making Donald Duck noises and by just being a Grandpa to him. I know that my dad would have taken my son out for a day and brought him back filthy from head to toe, but he would have bathed him and gotten him ready for bed and just enjoyed letting him be a little boy.

So today I told my son about his Grandpa... and told him that he's up in heaven, looking down and protecting him... Squeaker grinned at me and snuggled up with me. For just a moment I felt close to my dad again... I hadn't felt that way since the night he died... when the police officer told me to "drive carefully" and gave me a speeding ticket... It was one of those moments that I knew my dad was with me... and he was with my son. It wasn't the way I wanted it to be, but it would have to do.

Below is my son... 6 months of age... he's got the best smile, just like his Grandpa had.

October 15th Pregnancy & Infant Loss Rememberance Day

Tonight I lit a candle for all the pregnancies that I've lost... in my arms I held the pregnancy that came to be Squeaker. Cherishing him does not minimize those pregnancies that never came to be... but it reminds me of what I did lose. So tonight I'll cherish my Squeaker and remember his brothers and sisters who never came to be... and in the future if he ever asks I'll explain to him like my mother did to me... just how he came to be and how much we lost before he came to be.

Many hugs to all those who are remembering and for all those that we have lost...

Phew...

It's a new day... and I'm thankful.

This year nothing bad happened on the 15th, but it hung over my head like the proverbial water bucket waiting to drop on my head. I kept looking behind me waiting for something to either hit me upside the head or drop me to the floor.

Today is the first year I haven't had to pick up the pieces in 2 years. I'm thankful for that. I'll take that as a birthday gift anytime.

Now to go feed puppies, make sure everyone goes to the bathroom and then load everyone into the car and deal with a 3-3.5 hour drive. Lets hope this goes smoothly!

Have a great weekend - mine will be fine. It's all cake from here.

Two Years...

Two years ago today at around 11 a.m. I had my first d/c and awoke to find out that I had an ectopic pregnancy. The next day was my birthday and I started a blog.

One year ago today I learned that a pregnancy that had "looked promising" was actually another miscarriage. Eight days later I had my second d/c.

Understandably - the mere mention of June 15th sends some anxiety my way. Primarily because - supposedly lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place - yet that day has not been kind to me. I used to love my birthday the 16th, but now I just look at it as the day after bad things have happened. The day I have to pick up the pieces...

This year things are different and God willing they will stay that way - I have no doctor's appts scheduled. I deliberately did that because - see above. If I could drink heavily today I would... instead I'm going to have to settle for taking care of two minor errands and then coming home and curling up in bed and pulling the covers over my head and sitting there with the doppler listening and poking the NN to make it move - because at least that's reassuring for a little while.

Tomorrow we will leave on a road trip to the other side of the state - with the 6 canines and D. D will probably be bitchy as he has to work tomorrow night. I plan on attempting to not be bitchy with my in laws... though that may take some effort.

Yesterday June 14th, found me at a conference on "The power of compassion - dealing with infant and child loss" the speaker was from the MISS organization. It covered miscarriage, stillborn, NICU deaths and deaths of older children. I know - what the hell was I thinking of going to that right now. However = I realized as I watched a documentary of a woman who had had 3 stillbirths and she said - "I just feel as if I keep failing and what have I accomplished in these 3 years. I have nothing to show for it. And people think I'm nuts to try again." I related to her. Because I remember feeling that way... This is my 12th pregnancy... and when you say that to someone they look at you as if you've lost your bloody mind. How could you be so stupid to keep trying and trying over and over again. I don't know how - other than to go with the thought that maybe - in some way, shape or form things will finally work out. Ultimately- I don't want to fail again.

Not To Worry... I am alive!

*sheepishly looks around and waves*

Hi there... Sorry things here got busy. By busy I mean very busy. I have two professional licenses the nursing license had to be renewed at the end of March and I remembered on oh... March 30th... 1 day before expiration. Dodged a bullet there huh. The second is my paramedic license and that is due to expire at the end of October.

Now here's where it gets tricky. The credits I used for my nursing generally do not translate to credits for EMS. Talk about huge suck fest of time and money. The state I live in also as of January 1st changed the requirements for me to maintain my license. I have to have 10 practical credits in specific categories. Getting those credits has been a challenge. Yes - some of my nursing certifications - ACLS, PALS, etc have been able to translate into some practical credits, but we have been a LONG way away from the magic number of 10 and well the magic number of 45 which is the amount of lecture and practical credits I must have to get my license renewed.

So a dear friend and I went to the EMS Expo this weekend... From Thursday on I was living and breathing and eating EMS from 8 a.m. until at the earliest 6 p.m. The practical credits have been the most interesting because well a trauma and medical management class resulted in me having to "come out" to the proctors as I draw the line at lifting and carrying a 200 + pound man down some stairs with a guy who has a bad back and my friend - let me just say my poor friend got the raw end of the deal here as the guy who was assisting her stunk as in BO - not cool and was in his 60's and had the "bad back". I would do it if I had to, but this is not a situation I would find myself in anytime soon - or at least it's highly unlikely. I did however crawl under a line of chairs to simulate a confined space entrapment and the instructor when I was going to be a good sport and crawl back under to get out said - don't you don't have to because you're pregnant...

This openness that I was truly not completely comfortable with lead to interesting conversations that I still haven't quite embraced completely - talking openly about being pregnant. I did talk with one of the educational associates and we bonded as she is about to become a grandma for the second time and her daughter had 2 miscarriages back to back before becoming pregnant with this child. So there are some interesting things you learn. I also learned that one of the instructors I have known for years "can't" have children. We were in a lecture about how to communicate with children and how to take the stress out of the having these pediatric calls and he was relating a conversation he had with a neighbor child when she asked "Why aren't you allowed to have kids?" Can't in her mind = not allowed - totally different connotation huh. He explained that he and his wife were unable to have children. He didn't go into details in the classroom, but it was interesting to know that infertility is out there in our daily lives and some people are out of the closet and others are not. Definitely makes you think. It makes me thankful I've been open about our difficulties. D after hearing of our exploits said - "I'm glad you decided to refrain from the rope course as well as the declining to carry a 200+ pound man down some stairs." He knows that I a) do not view pregnancy as a disability and if this was something I was doing on a regular basis - as in what I used to do when I worked EMS, then it would be a totally different story... however I don't do that anymore and now my lifting of patients has decreased significantly as my patients are now mostly kids rather than adults and well weight wise they are smaller - so this would not be something I would normally do. Ultimately I felt like a slacker... granted I know it was the right thing to do, but it didn't make it any easier for me to say - "I can't do this because."

Because the because part is there, but I still live in a bit of denial... heartbeat - check present and accounted for... showing - that seems to be the constant question from in laws and my mom - no... again I'm up about 8-9 lbs and yes my body shape is changing, but I just look like my normal fluffy self with bigger b**bs. So it still feels surreal. I know I'll eventually have to go - oh yeah this is truly happening but for now we're still in a bit of lala land.

*In other news... both D and a friend of my parents had this weird/uncomfortable thing happen... My dad's birthday was on Friday... last week D came home and said "I almost s*it myself last night while watching the weather" Uh... okay honey why? The weather channel announced - "And here's *insert dad's full name* with the weather* " D startled and thought no they did not just say dad's full name? Sure enough they did... it freaked him out a bit and he didn't want to tell my mom. So nothing was said. However a friend of my parents told my mom today as she was washing dishes and heard "And here's *dad's name* with the weather" she dropped the dish she was washing shattering it as this was on Friday and she is very familiar with dad's birthday as her daughter's birthday was Saturday so a day later and turned - granted she knew in her mind that dad was not there, but sometimes we all wish that it wasn't true that he was still here and it brought him back for her just as it did for D. My mom surprisingly enough took the news of the other SC well... shockingly well. She had to tell me the story of the friend and I had to break it to her that D had had a similar encounter and it had startled him for a bit. I fear she's now watching the weather channel in the hopes of getting a glimpse of the other man so to speak.

Ultimately never a dull moment here right?

Nuchal schmucal...

Nuchal was 1.4 mm... apparently that's good. Bloodwork has been sent and another specimen will be done at the next appt. I don't know when I will get the results. I'm truthfully not even sure how they work this all out to give you your results. I'm amazingly enough flying by the seat of my pants with this one... Granted the "not negative" chose to be scrunched up for part of the test so that involved me rolling to one side, then the other, bouncing and so on... fun times.

My doctor said "well everything looks good" and of course no clue as to where the bleeding came from... He looked at me as if I was supposed to jump up and down or something... I finally caved and said - it's not that I'm not excited. It's that even for my wedding I didn't really believe it was happening until the day of so this is not unusual for me to plan as if all will go well but be prepared for the worst. Then we went over my familial history which sucks - loss at 26 weeks for M (sister), losses at 18, 24, 32 for my mother, and then a loss at 34 weeks for my aunt so yeah uhmm if I hadn't grown up with that knowledge I'd probably be like every other pregnant woman he sees who is "happy" and "excited" So he also missed Dan muttering "SHHHHHHHHH it might hear you and then vacate the premises" in regards to the "everything looks good"

Can't tell that there's still some open wounds from the 2 years of trying... nope not at all.

D asked when he could tell his parents that they could tell others and I replied - "lets just have them wait until the "not negative" is born and have it be a surprise! He shook his head and said that wasn't very nice. I thought it was... apparently he lost his sense of humor today.

Yes - 2 years is how long it has been since we started trying. I meant to post something about it after my post about my dad and instead I chose to leave the post up about my dad longer. It felt right. Both are hard anniversaries... and while as of right now things are fine here in "not negative" land... the battle scars from this war are still there, maybe not to the naked eye, but they're there.

In dog news - lets see last we heard Lola had diarrhea and 2 pups had UTI's... now we're at Lola gave Ernie diarrhea and the 2 pups are finally completely vaccinated. Lola and Ernie have been started on some meds in the hopes of preventing a wildfire spread of whatever it is that they have. One of the puppies may have a home - keep your fingers crossed. I will post more news in regards to that as I can.

So so far so good... and of course NBHHY

Being a Member of a Club that No One Wants to be a Member Of

There's a line from Grey's Anatomy where Christina says "There's a club. The Dead Dads Club and you can't be a member until you're a member." Isn't that the truth. It seems as if this year there's been quite a few new members and for that I am sorry. It's not that you aren't lonely in the club, but truthfully you'd rather be lonely than have others join. Because being a member sucks - especially if you have a good relationship with your dad. I know there are a few who read that know what I'm talking about... and I am so sad that they had to join. If I could have vetoed membership I would.

March 12, 2007 at 6:40 pm will be the 3rd anniversary of my father's death. I just spent about an hour talking with my mom... she started crying and said "I so wish Sam was here." Isn't that the truth... we all do. D, myself, my mom... and a number of others wish that Dad was here. Generally I talk about that day - this year I want to do something a bit different. Give you a glimpse of what my Dad was truly like. Why I miss him so much and why I wish that he was still here every single day.

First let me preface by saying - I'm one of the lucky ones. I was given more time and fortunately we didn't waste that time. Our relationship was full, but it was not full of regrets. Dad was diagnosed with oat cell carcinoma located at the head of the pancreas, the common bile duct, a tumor on the liver as well and was given a 25-50/50 shot at living back in 1989. I was 11 at the time. We went to the mayo clinic and also then on to U of M for cancer treatment. After a few rounds of chemo and radiation he was pronounced in remission and we knew just how lucky we were as two others had been diagnosed with the same type of cancer however theirs was located in their lungs and both died within weeks of their diagnosis. I just did a search and found 14 months as the amount of time for survival on average... my dad had 15 years. 15 years... amazing huh. I may have to get a hold of his medical records to reconfirm that it was indeed oat cell carcinoma - however that was the only name I remember growing up. He had frequent checks to watch for recurrence and we sweated bullets a few times when he went from having a CT to having an MRI because the previous one looked different than the current one. Dad never once let his cancer slow him down - in fact he got yelled at quite a bit as during the time he was in treatment - when you're supposed to be "careful" and not use razors - he started woodworking and whittling and well he used an exacto knife to do those things. My mother threw a fit. However it made him happy. My dad enjoyed woodworking and downstairs in the basement at my mom's house is a chest that he was trying to finish for me... it still isn't finished. I may have my mom ask a friend of my dad's to finish it.



My dad was over the moon thrilled when I showed up... he could have cared less whether I was a boy or girl, just that I was here and I was healthy. Over the years he'd repeat those statements. My Dad made it very clear growing up that there was nothing that I couldn't do. Sometimes that has probably irritated my husband to no end, but I doubt I've ever backed down from a challenge. It cracks me up to watch my father in law be amazed at the things I'll do. Whether it be work on a building project or home improvement project, hunt, shoot, etc he apparently grew up with a different philosophy and so dealing with me causes some panic on his part. Oh the beard was for a contest - he didn't win, but he enjoyed growing it. I used to hate when he would give me kisses and be all scruffy. He rarely had facial hair so this is one of the few pictures of him with facial hair.


I think my dad may have been in charge of doing my hair that day during Easter. Our relationship was easy... I could tell him anything and he would listen and not judge. We would talk on my drive home from work before he headed into town to have coffee with the boys. Granted he probably only heard half of the conversation due to poor hearing. He tried and that's the part that counted.


I love this picture of my mom and dad... I have a similar picture of D and I at our wedding, but I think it's probably my favorite of all the pictures I have... it was taken at my sister's wedding. Dad briefly wore a tie that day... I say briefly because I think he wore it for pictures and the service then it was gone.


My dad was a wonderful grandfather... and that is probably the thing I wish the most - that a child of mine would have had the chance to meet and love my dad. I know how great he was and my saying that doesn't make it any easier for a child to understand... My nieces and nephews are the lucky ones - they got to enjoy my dad... at a time in his life when it was sunshine and roses and gardens and puppy dogs and cats. I'm jealous of that. I'm jealous that any child or children that D and I may have won't get to experience that. That all they will get is to hear what a great guy he was and that he would have loved them to pieces and brought them back to us filthy and covered in dirt and telling me all about the fun things they did with Grandpa...



So if you're a member of the club - I'm sorry. If you're not I pray that you will not become a member for a long long time and ask that you call your dad and let him know just how much you love him... That's how we always ended our phone calls to one another... "I love you and will talk with you soon." I think we both knew just how important that was. I hope you do as well.