Hello, again.

It's been a while. Way too long. Like 6 months too long.

The up-to-date-ing will definitely be broken up as 6m is way too much to pack into a single post.

Life has really been a whirlwind since Lucy's birth (probably before it if I'm totally honest). Ups and downs, lots of highs and possibly more lows. Lots of beginnings and too many ends.

There are other reasons I haven't written other than time because in truth, I could make time to do a few sentences if I had really wanted to. There were times that I came close, but just couldn't. I'm pretty certain I had a decent spell of PP depression. Whether that was compounded or caused by a host of issues including finances, nursing issues, reflux and dairy intolerance (for which I went and still am dairy-free in my diet) from Lucy, I'm not sure. I am sure that there was lots of crying in this house, though I don't know which of us 2 cried more.

Things would get better, then something would happen, and BAM- down I went. Some times it was something big, but mostly not. I felt guilty a lot for not truly enjoying Lucy like I did Em in that newborn honeymoon phase. Once the reflux and screaming/crying kicked up at ~2.5w, I was doubting myself as a mother, our decision to have a 2nd, everything almost.

Things got a bit better around 4-5m PP. Then lil miss over-achiever decides to start army crawling. Yes, at 5m. I was already having huge issues coming to terms with being done. This kid seems to feel the need to shove it back in my face by being in such a hurry to grow up and not let me revel in this last age of babydom. That hasn't slowed down any, either. She was sitting unassisted at 6m. Full on hands and knees crawling before 7m. Teeth at 7m. Pulling up at 7.5m. Edging before 8m. And now, just shy of 9m, she's been trying to stand unassisted and walk. She just doesn't understand "SLOW DOWN!"

Em is growing way too fast as well. She already get sarcasm. Can dress herself from head to toe on her own. Use the bathroom all alone. Grasp hard concepts like relationships like grandma= daddy's mom and aunt is cousin's mom, and harder ones like illness and death. She's been Forward facing in dad's car for a while now and about to turn in mine. Helps with chores, some unassisted and other big kid things that make me want to cry and cradle her like a newborn again.

The IF jealousy, frustration, and spite/rage have returned as people I know get knocked up on accident from just 1 time and other fertile-myrtle crap. I've also had to revisit the loss emotions in comforting several friends as they endured heart-wrenching losses- a missed miscarriage that required 2 D&Cs and a miscarriage from a surprise pregnancy after testicular cancer surgery and chemo treatment. That was all topped off with a friend of a friend (who lives a few neighborhoods over from me) having her labor end in a stillbirth.

While there has been so much joy in my life these last 6m, there has been so incredibly much loss and heartache. The biggest of which was the news my FIL had lung cancer, followed by it metastasizing to his liver, chemo not fully working and it spreading to his brain and bones which radiation helped with slightly until it spread systemically. We got the call at the tail end of good friend's wedding that we needed to go visit ASAP if we wanted to say goodbye. He passed 2 days later on May 4th. I still hurt for the Boy, for Em, for Lucy who will never really remember him, for my MIL who lost her best friend of almost 43yrs and for his faithful choc lab that is still waiting by the windows and doors for him to come home over a month later. Telling and explaining it to Emma was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Seeing her cry at his viewing about killed me. I still can't talk or write about any of that without immediately welling up with tears if not full blown crying or sobbing.

As it is now 10:30pm, I'm crying and have a headache from the immensity of those last 4 paragraphs, have been sleeping for crap due to a teething almost-9 month old, and need to go nurse said child to sleep now, I'll wind this "quick update" post that turned word- and emotion-vomit up.

Hello, again, blogging world. I've missed so much! Enjoy this picture.

Rejoining the Living

Since I came home from work on Monday, I've not once left the house. Heck, I didn't even leave the bed on Tuesday. Wednesday was spent mostly on the couch. Both days were pjs only. Today was the 1st day I actually put on pair of pants, a real shirt, and even a pair of shoes. I actual left the house. It felt really good. I almost feel like a normal person again. The grand occasion was a quick chat with my ever so fantastic boss, who happened to have sent us this yesterday:

 

The short chat about the uncertainty of my future scheduling, of possible appt and tests, and that things like this week, could possibly and unfortunately happen again, easily became an hour and a half discussion about all sorts of things. How unfortunately common miscarriage is, how I was doing, how the Boy was doing, how his wife dealt with hers, how he dealt with his wife's.

During this, it dawned on me. I'm actually ok talking about it face to face with people that understand. I'm not completely over, but I think I am most definitely well on my to a full emotional recovery. I will never forget the last 10 days of my life, but I have come to a full acceptance of it all. I actually feel like I can join the rest of the world again. Well, at least the rest of the world that isn't going on and on about how precious their newborn is or how fantastic their pregnancy has been and that the nursery is coming along swimmingly. I can actually interact with people in an way that practically resembles normal.

This mean that I will not be helping my sister-in-law paint her nursery this weekend, especially since the helping her paint her son's room was really just me and my brother-in-law painting and her sorting papers in another room or listening to her non-stop ramblings about her pregnancy and the baby. This probably also mean that I won't be attending their Super Bowl get-together on Sunday. Darn.I can't handle being around pregnant or new mom people yet. Besides, I don't want to tell them about any of this because she had a miscarriage and will most likely give me advice on what to do now. Our situations are completely different as she had no problem getting pregnant at all, just a case of low progesterone after 7wks. Not sure how much she would understand that my pregnancy was an almost miracle to begin with and I have already a progesterone issue.

It does mean that I'll be attempting to go to work on Monday. The bleeding is slowing down, the cramps aren't as strong, and I have more energy to actually do things for myself here and there. Maybe I'll even be able to get to some of the house cleaning that has fallen to the wayside the last 2 weeks. There is only 1 major hurdle that I see before me in our path to getting back to normal.

Telling the parents. We feel we have to do it. It's really for our own good. At least this way, if we tell them we were TTC, got pregnant but miscarried, and will be TTC again, they'll stop with the grandkid questions and I won't have to think about our loss each time they bring it up and try to fumble for some excuse or cover. I've found that being upfront and honest has gotten me this far, so I'm hoping that holds up and continues to take care of us.

Dealing and Healing

I know this process is different for every woman and every pregnancy. Thankfully, I can say I'm doing alright. Not great, but ok. Monday, I was a complete and total wreck after that fated call back. I called and told Chris the bad news, and cried in the stairwell. Pulled myself together enough to make it back to the scope room and battled tears, anger, hurt, loss, and almost every other emotion under the sun for the next 3.5hrs. Then, I realized I couldn't stay in that room for the rest of the day. Crap. I'm an ugly crier. As soon as the tears start, my eyes and nose turn red. Not pink, or anything, straight up red! And my eyes get super puffy and swollen. Ugh. I could not leave that room looking like this. The only thing I could use was some ethanol on a tissue to cool my angry red, swollen eyelids and nose, hopefully enough to not look like I've spend the last 2hrs bawling alone in the dark.

It have some what worked because I was able to make it to my shared office, go in my purse and take an nice Xanax pill along with some ibuprofen without anyone mentioned anything or asking if I was ok. Oh, I forgot to mention that crying gives me intense headaches. So for the rest of the work day, i was able to be blissfully numb enough to pretend I was fine. I can not say that lasted once I got home though. After hugging and kissing my fantastic husband, I swung wildly from very sad, to wanting to be violently angry. I wanted to break something, to scream, to get all the pain, anguish and emptiness that was inside me out. I had a glass and a half of wine, don't remember what I ate, and my laptop. After several hours of tears and snot streaming down my face, multiple updates to people and groups online,  we headed to bed. Oh, I forgot to mention that our propane tank ran empty Monday morning and we had no heat until the next day.

I woke up Tuesday, still sad, but far far more stable and on the mend emotionally. And swollen. I could have been a face double for Rocky at the end of a fight, minus the blood though. My face hurt. More than my heart and more than the rest of my body. I spend the whole day in bed. Except for a few excursions to the restroom and a time or two to other rooms, I was in the bed, in pjs, ALL day long. I researched what to expect during a miscarriage, after a miscarriage, how other people dealt, how they felt, and I wrote. I wrote a blog post. I wrote to other women I knew that had gone through it. I wrote to my boss, briefly, about it all and how it would affect my work. I emailed, and Facebooked, and instant messaged. I got it out in a much healthier way than the night before. I was pulling through. Dealing with the emotional and mental aspects and healing.

Things have been picking up on the physical side of things, but aren't horrible. Much stronger cramping and aches than a normal period and just different, but not agonizing. My RE must have forgot to mention it or thought it was common sense, but I did not know that tampons are a NO-NO for miscarriage bleeding. Oops! Totally a learning process here. All of it is a process. There is no right way or wrong way of feeling or dealing or healing. It just is and that's perfectly fine. I do recommend some Tylenol or Advil or something though. Lifesavers, they are.

Today, things continue. Life is still going on, moving forward. I feel ok today as well. The talking and typing have helped. The sharing my feelings, both physical and not, is allowing me to keep on keeping on. I've accepted my loss, that the baby wasn't to be, and am thankful that it happened sooner rather than later. While not fully healed, emotionally or physically, I'm looking forward. We both agreed to keep trying right away. The Dr said to wait a cycle, but I think that is just for dating the pregnancy. If I happen to ovulate in a timely manner and we happen to feel like trying, I think I'd be ok if we happen to get pregnant again or even if it doesn't happen. I won't be taking the letrozole/femara this cycle and I haven't decided about the progesterone, but probably not. We'll just have to see. In the meantime, I'm taking things day by day and being content with just being ok.