Infertility...I Wish I Could Quit You

Psssst...Follow Me

2008-04-25T21:15:00.000-05:00

I Dreamed Of YOU

2008-04-24T23:30:00.001-05:00

I dreamed of a tall, sensitive guy that would actually talk to me.

I dreamed of someone that would make me laugh, stand up for me, and make me a priority.

I dreamed of someone who was not embarrassed to introduce me to their friends and would take me places.

I dreamed of someone who would hold my hand affectionately in public.

I dreamed of someone that would give me adventure, take me on trips, enjoy spending time outdoors, and would look for fun things to do around town.

I dreamed of someone that would call me during the day just because.

I dreamed of a respectful, compassionate person.

I dreamed of someone that was interested in me and would support anything I did.

I dreamed of someone to carry me through difficult times, walk beside me, behind me, or in front of me when necessary.

I remember describing the perfect man to a friend and after all my criteria was named, that friend said YOU were my perfect man. But, I already knew that.

So, on the eve of our little girl's arrival, you must know that you are all of that and so much more. As I've told you before, my life did not truly begin until I met you and I thank you for saving me.

I dreamed of you and you are mine. I can't wait to start our new life together as parents of a sweet baby girl.

This Post Brought To You By The Number FIVE

2008-04-20T11:23:00.005-05:00

Top Priorities Left:

1. Wash guest bedroom sheets for grandparents.
2. Find a kitchen cabinet for all her business.
3. Final grocery run.
4. Clean out my car.
5. Pedicure (because these digits look busted).

FIVE DAYS.

NINE

2008-04-16T21:48:00.004-05:00

So many things to do...so little time...rest being the priority.

Nine days until Kallie makes her appearance.

These sharp, stabbing, electric, no warning, split you down the middle pains of your cervix changing are for the birds.

I'll take the spinal block now, thank you.

Showered With Love x 2 Again

2008-04-08T21:45:00.006-05:00

My sweet class gave us a baby shower complete with yellow ducks everywhere. Pictures are few as I will not post faces of my children. However, we all had a blast and things were out of control, let me assure you! Thursday is my last day with these little ones and I am READY!

We also had a shower with the awesome families at My Babe's fire station. I adore each one of them and had so much fun. The food was wonderful and just hanging out with everyone was perfect. Pictures are few here as well due to privacy, but the wonderful photographer, CT, always does an amazing job capturing the essence of each event.

Making Peace With Myself

2008-04-01T18:38:00.005-06:00

Newsflash To Self: This is not a contest.

I am .5 inches from being okay with starting maternity leave on April 10th. Originally, I hoped to make it to April 18th. However, I'm worn down and nights are difficult. I need to mentally prepare as my head is not in this game quite yet. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for Kallie to make her appearance, but I still have things to do and a husband to love on before two become three.

I toss and turn this concept through my head all day long. It sounds a little like this: Guilt...acceptance...guilt...who cares what others think...guilt...I deserve this considering our realm of loss...guilt...you're a fighter, keep going...guilt...take time for yourself. However, I'm ending quite often on the "take care of yourself" note. Especially since today was the due date for my sweet babies, Kinsey & Ryan. We've been through A LOT the last few years and it's high time I respect that.

My deadline is Friday as I am going to send home a note to the parents regarding maternity leave. For now, I'll keep turning it over in my head until that magic little Genie inside my stubborn noggin finally says, "Permission to take care of yourself...granted." And he's .5 inches away from saying it.

A Bright Ending To The Day

2008-03-26T21:41:00.004-06:00

Thank you, Secret Admirer, for my favorite flowers adorning my porch and making me SMILE this afternoon. They are beautiful and changed my foul mood quickly!

Jimmy Crack Corn

2008-03-24T21:14:00.008-06:00

And, you guessed it.

I don't really freaking care.

Kuddos to the ones that can feel great, look great, exercise, speak kind words, give a crap about what they wear, breathe, eat without wanting to spew, walk around without fire inside of them, clean their houses, and smile during the last weeks of pregnancy. Clearly, I am not one of them.

I can't even say the Pledge of Allegiance in the morning without becoming winded with each sentence. And now that we say the Pledge to the Texas flag, I'm really screwed. Read a book to the kids? Ha! That's a good one...pointing out the craft of writing within high quality literature is far from my daily agenda.

Walking down the hallway is about to require a Hoveround. The question is, how far do I take this? How far do I push my 4'11" frame to keep working when I am crawling to the bathroom in the middle of the night?

I want to work as long as possible to have more time with her once she's here. So, I've got to stop whining.
Be grateful - although, trust me, I am with every breath of fire.
Three weeks left of work.
Suck it up.

Don't Let the Mother Burn

2008-03-20T21:53:00.000-06:00

Dear Body,

I'm not certain that you realize this so I will glady bring it directly to your attention.

There is a burn ban in effect in surrounding counties. Although our immediate area lifted their burn ban just days ago, your potential fire will still create havoc if it is not squelched quickly. Quite frankly, there is enough fire within my chest to light the entire state of Texas and burn every living and nonliving thing in its path.

Doesn't it concern you that our home backs up to a heavily wooded ranch? Do you think living with a firefighter gives you permission to torment me with a 24/7 raging burn? Is it okay to continue hurling food up my esophogus just for giggles?
No more, I say.

Spring began at 12:48am yesterday and while it typically brings rain highly capable of dousing a roaring bonfire to these parts of Texas, a torrential downpour near your awesome powers would be equivalent to spitting in Hell and expecting dramatic results immediately.

This is really getting old and I respectfully request you extinguish this blaze permanently as I have dealt with your nasty ways for the past 19 weeks...and that is a long damn time, I tell you. I have 5 weeks left and a little reprieve would be just freaking awesome.

And while you're at it, getting over yourself and all, talk to my hips too. Mmmm, k?

Respectfully but VERY seriously,

The Landlord

Certainly Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself

2008-03-19T20:45:00.005-06:00

Scene: The front porch chaos during school dismissal

Sweet 2nd Grader: "Mrs. V. are you going to have a baby?"

Me: "Yes."

Sweet 2nd Grader (without missing a beat): "I hope your baby doesn't die."

Me (pausing slightly): "Honey...me too."

Sweet 2nd Grader: "Bye!"

So matter of fact and so true.
33 weeks today and the c-section is scheduled.
Please let this happen because I'm not sure I could do this again if it didn't.

Seriously?

2008-03-11T20:32:00.004-06:00

It's getting tempting to be rude to people like this. However, it's not worth it...

W.Foods Checker: "When is your baby due?"

Me: "In May, but not soon enough."

W.Foods Checker: "Oh, don't talk to me about that. That's nonsense."

Me: "I mean I just want her out safely."

W.Foods Checker: "Well, I have four boys. I breastfed one of them while pregnant with twins. Then, when the twins came, I breastfed all three of them at once. And, they were 6 pounds each. What you've got going on there (pointing to my belly) is nothing. You don't know how hard it is until you carry twins to full term."

Me: "Yes, that is certainly commendable."

Showered With Love x 2

2008-03-05T20:45:00.010-06:00

My team, my heart and soul at work, gave us the most amazing shower at school last week. Every detail was perfect from the individually floral taped Gerber Daisies, the cake that matched Kallie's bedding, to the "to die for" punch. A slideshow and song, set to Kallie's nursery theme, played while guests were arriving. I can't wait to light Kallie's candle that sat by the guest book, along with the little tiny shoes and a poem. My sweet team thoughtfully signed messages from the heart in Kallie's Twelve Gifts of Birth book. And, most of all, the company was perfect.

My high school (and elementary school!) friends also gave me the most creative shower with thoughtful touches at every turn on Saturday. I was greeted with a pink fuzzy "Mommy" embroidered robe with matching slippers (flip flops, yeah!) and very soon the house was transformed into a spa. Students from a local beauty school came and treated us to manicures and pedicures of our choice. The cake was a perfect match with Kallie's bedding, the flowers were beautifully arranged and fragrant, and I am still craving Creme Brulee french toast after tasting the yummy food (complete with a chocolate fountain!). A beautifully framed picture we had not even seen yet of My Babe's hands and my hands around my belly sat in the entry way. And, Kallie will forever read the framed quotes of my sweet friends that wrote why My Babe and I would make good parents. It was amazing.

No Horns

2008-03-03T20:51:00.001-06:00

Thank goodness for that.

Random Bad vs. Good of Today

2008-02-25T20:51:00.005-06:00

Bad: This morning started with nausea. Yes, thank you third trimester.

Good: My nausea allowed me to eat a little bit for breakfast and a pretty big lunch.

Bad: While blow drying my curly hair straight, my beloved Chi hair dryer exploded. I do not write explosion lightly.

Good: I've been needing a new hair dryer and now I have no choice but to get one.

Bad: My belly button hurts and is sticking out profusely.

Good: We all had a good laugh when one of the kids said (pointing to my belly button), "I think I see the baby's toe sticking out right there."

Bad: In a nauseated blur, I waited for 2 hours and 15 minutes for my dr. to see me for my 30 week appt.

Good: Everything looks great.

Bad: My Babe saw a turtle trying to cross Hwy 620, a very busy road by our house, and witnessed cars driving over him.

Good: My Babe got out of his truck, rescued him from danger, drove to Brushy Creek and let him go. That's just the way he is.

Bad: On the way home tonight, police were trying to convince a man to come back over the bridge that he was threatening to jump off.

Good: I was reminded of the blessings in my life and took time to pray for his safety and soul.

Bad: My Babe worked overtime today at the fire station.

Good: He is actually getting to come home tonight rather than spend the night at the station. And that makes up for all the bad in the world tonight.

Sleep Won't Hardly Come

2008-02-19T20:04:00.005-06:00

Sleep is a silly thing to request these days. I feel as if I have hip dysplasia, I have to sleep in an almost sitting position to avoid puking up my food all night, my whole body aches and burns, my varicose veins hurt like a beast, and I can't breathe worth snot.

However, all over the world right now, people can't sleep at night.

Many have just lost a child, a husband, a mother or father, a loved one near and dear to their hearts. Some are going through the despair of divorce. Others are dealing with a terminal illness and pain that no medication or delivery date can fix. Many don't have a cozy bed and covers to wrap in. Some don't have a support system of friends to carry them through. Husbands and wives are far from their families at war. A great deal will never be able to have children. All of these people can't turn away from the worry and sleep is a dreaded nightly event.

As sleep eludes me at night, I think of these people. I think of just how lucky I am to have a strong marriage, a healthy baby girl still growing, loved ones safe and sound, a cozy home, and temporary discomfort. I pray for them to find sleep.

But as darkness fades, I easily forget to count my blessings and instead revert back to feeling grumpy, irritated, cheated, and abused from all of these pregnancies and recurrent losses. Pain overcomes my mind and I forget how brief it really is in the grand scheme of life. How soon this will all fade and a new kind of sleepless night will take over.

I pray I will carry my blessings throughout the day. I pray that I will find strength like I used to have years ago to continue to endure pain. I pray I will not complain as much and will find peace with the past. I pray for those that have it far worse than I could ever imagine.

For all these things I pray each night when sleep won't hardly come.

26.2

2008-02-17T22:00:00.004-06:00

Miles, that is.

My Babe ran his first marathon today like a first class champ. It was super fun and I'm excited already for the next one.

To top it off, we arrived home to a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the front porch from an unknown giver. They smell Heavenly and look that way too - thank you Secret Admirer!

Recipe for the Perfect Marriage

2008-02-14T21:50:00.014-06:00

From the Kitchen of MKV

Ingredients:

Adventure
Affection
Commitment
Compassion
Faith
Happiness
Hope
Hugs & Kisses
Kindness
Laughter
Respect
Trust
Unconditional Love

Find a tall, dark, handsome, athletic, caring, smart guy. Make sure his name is TAV. Marry him quickly before he gets away. Let him be adventurous. Laugh, hug and kiss daily. Trust him in everything he does and have hope and faith the world will keep him safe. Respect him amazing work ethic and commitment to his family. Show affection, kindness, and compassion toward him in everything he does. Love him unconditionally. Enjoy a lifetime of happiness together.

I love you babe, you are my everything. Happy Valentine's Day...

28...The Sweetest Number

2008-02-13T22:54:00.004-06:00

28 Weeks today, our ultimate goal.

Her name is Kallie Zane.

Feeling Just a Wee Bit TRAPPED.

2008-02-07T19:33:00.001-06:00

For the better part of three years I've been growing humans #1-5...at a profoundly unsuccessful rate...or at least until now. To say that I feel limited, maxed out, abnormal, and pretty much done would be a gross understatement. I am thankful each and every second for a healthy baby girl measuring perfectly at 27 weeks, for not having to be on bed rest, for feeling pretty good, and for the possibility that this really might work.

But, let's be real now.

I'm weary. I'm tired of being a doctor's science experiment. My body doesn't know which way is up anymore (except for my faithful reflux/heartburn friend) and it certainly hasn't had enough recovery time between pregnancies to even begin to try to go back to "normal." Being that I have the pastiest of pasty white skin, I will never be able to wear shorts in public again unless I spend the outrageous amount of money to fix them. It looks like someone has punched me in multiple places and then completed a dot-to-dot picture between punches. And, my varicose veins...yeah...let's just stop there.

I feel trapped. Trapped inside my freakish mind. Trapped inside my classroom. Trapped inside a pregnant body that is not allowed to exercise. Trapped because this is the last weekend I am allowed to travel.

And, while I am not silly and know this is not permanent, I am feeling a great deal of anxiety over the permanent change that will soon come to my dream come true marriage. I want to protect it. I want to spend every moment possible nurturing it before we're blindsided by lack of sleep. I want to keep it sacred and I've spent a good deal of time researching books on how to "prepare" your marriage for the arrival of a baby. Which, really, is hysterical since experience is the only way to learn this one.

I am anxious and tired of the physical sacrifices, the restrictions and limitations, the doctor's visits and the trapped feeling. But, I must remind myself often that I will make it. The light is beginning to show at the end of the long, long, scary tunnel. I will crawl through the tunnel soon, and while life will look completely different, I will settle into a groove. My marriage will survive and remain strong through lots of hard work and forgiveness. And, very soon, I will no longer feel trapped.

Lesson Learned: Don't Get Too Comfortable

2008-01-25T18:49:00.000-06:00

25 Weeks, 3 Days

Just when you think everything is going great. Just when you think you might actually make it to the dream come true. Just when you think you can enjoy every moment. Just when you think you are feeling pretty darn good...you get a reminder that there is still so much that can go wrong. So many hurdles to leap, so many bridges of fire to cross, and a little voice in my head repeating, "Don't get too comfortable."

Thursday night was an uncomfortable night. The feeling that your belly might explode with every breath isn't great. And, sweet baby girl was not active as she normally is. No movement Friday morning, which is not at all the way our mornings usually go. My belly was cramping and I just didn't feel good. So, at 9:30am I decide to drink a Coke in hopes of jolting her awake, as I never have them. One hour passes and no movement. I'm slowly becoming more sick to my stomach and finally break down.

So, I did what I have never done in 9 years of teaching. I got the first person that walked into my room to cover the class, left the room, never told the kids "goodbye", never looked twice to see what confidential papers were on my desk, never lifted a finger to get something together for a sub, and never stopped by the office on my way out.

Dr. S. got us in quickly and, of course, everything checked out fine.

However, for once, I was validated and received an explanation. Baby Girl and her "long legs" decided to do a ginormous fruit basket turn-over move and wore herself out / beat up my insides. And...a possible bladder infection to boot.

And while things are a little better today and she is moving as much as she can being in such a bad position, I've been knocked back down a few notches. Reminded again not to get too comfortable. Reminded that there is still a long way to go. Reminded not to take one single second of this pregnancy for granted. How easy it is to forget sometimes.

Lesson learned.

What A Difference One Baby Makes

2008-01-16T20:10:00.000-06:00

24 Weeks Today!

When you're a borderline midget and carrying two of your 6ft. husband's babies, life is no walk in the park. One baby, with long legs (thank you, Lord!), is a little more feasible. I feel good and think I'm almost at the I "love" being pregnant stage. I still hurt, still get nauseated, still have cramping and back pain, and still have heartburn 24/7, but this is 50 times easier than carrying twins.

We've made it to viability and I am positively pumped.

23 Weeks, 1 Day

2008-01-13T22:14:00.000-06:00

The day Kinsey and Ryan were born.

The night we came home from the hospital we heard this song, and while we know it is highly over-played, it will always hold significance with us.

We are 3 days past that date with this pregnancy, but never past that date in our hearts.

Shhh...There's A Crib In My Garage

2008-01-09T20:31:00.000-06:00

It was on clearance and their only floor model, so we had to take it off their hands within 7 days. It's white and folds down so my shortness can take her out easily. I'm a little bit freaked and a lot excited.

Not This Time, Kid

2008-01-07T22:22:00.000-06:00

22 weeks, 5 days and all is well. The sonographer was a little concerned about increased amniotic fluid, but my blood sugar level was normal and the sonogram showed no GI obstruction, so Dr. B. isn't concerned. Sweet baby girl is measuring ahead of schedule by 5 days and my cervix looks peachy. However, she has decided that my cervix is a trampoline made for stomping. Let it be known loud and clear:

She can stomp all she wants, but coming out early really isn't an option.

No Longer

2008-01-01T22:09:00.001-06:00

There will be many more New Year's Eve nights. There will be many more First Night Austin celebrations. But, someday soon it will no longer be the two of us. We will take her, bundled up and cozy in her hat with the puffy frays on top, wrapped safely in her daddy's arms.

We will find the best spot possible on the curb and wait for the parade. She will want to run out into the street with all the other kids to catch a glimpse of the start to the parade. She will say over and over, "Mamma, when is it gonna start?"

The parade will begin and she will squeal with delight, clapping her hands together and saying, "Mamma, did you see that one?" with each passing group. She'll want to eat kettle corn, funnel cakes, and drink hot chocolate. She'll want to buy the glow sticks and wave them around with vigor. The fireworks will start and she will say, "That one's my favorite," to every firework exploding in the sky.

I will relish in her happiness, her smile and her giggles. She will become cranky and I will try my best to distract her, talk to her, engage her until the time comes when we must leave. She will fall asleep in the car, sacked out until her daddy places her softly in her bed. She will hug his neck and whisper, "Thank you, daddy. That was fun."

There will be many more New Year's Eve nights. But soon, no longer will we spend them as a family of two.

Hurl Caution To The Wind, Fire, Pits of Hell

2007-12-31T12:35:00.001-06:00

And while we're at it, let's register for baby items. Not just one registry...but two. Really? Who does that at all of 21 weeks, 5 days gestation with as much bad luck as we have encountered? Apparently me, and it started yesterday.

After a day of looking at furniture, discussing the details of the nursery, and buying primer, I decided to just "begin" a registry. I added 4-5 items and then went to sleep. If you know me well, you know my issues with registries, showers in general, etc. Well, I've changed.

My Babe left at 5:00am this morning for a "short" 9 mile run, because he is quite frankly, Superman. I tossed, turned, thought about the registry, and turned on the bedroom light at 5:32am. Downhill from there, friends. Hours later, I now have 2 registries. And, guess what, they aren't complete.

And I can't stop thinking about the baby's room. Most likely, the room will center around the traits of life found in the book, The Twelve Gifts of Birth, by Charlene Costanzo. The book uses pastel colors, but the room is going to be bright pink(!), bright green, and red. The focus will be the traits displayed around the room and in the built-in shelves My Babe is going to concoct.

My mind is frantic. Like there's an urgency, a fire, an emergency that must be mitigated right NOW. I can't wait to carry her around the room and tell her the meaning of each trait. I can't wait to hold her in my arms and, hell, maybe even sing to her. I just can't wait.

Caution has left this house.

Acknowledgment

2007-12-28T16:47:00.000-06:00

Maternity clothes are the only clothes in my closet. We're discussing the nursery and going to start working on it this weekend. We've started researching cribs, car seats, and bedding. I smile when she kicks and My Babe has felt her. We've narrowed down names. When people ask me about the baby I can finally feel and express a little bit of excitement. Our 21 week sonogram was great and my cervix is cooperating for once. My fFn test was negative and I'm actually feeling pretty good. I've had several dreams where I've brought a live baby home. I held a newborn the other day and didn't burst into tears.

Everyone knows. There's no turning back and the stakes are very high. So much can still go wrong. However, I'm going to have a baby girl again, and this time she will come home with me. I have faith.

She Asked For It

2007-12-27T11:58:00.000-06:00

Scene: Before Christmas, in line to pay...let's just say, lots of people behind me. A conversation with the cashier.

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "So, are you pregnant?"

Me: "Yes."

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "Oh, I thought so. Because if you weren't I was gonna say, 'Girl, you better do something about that belly.'"

Me: "Ha, ha."

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "How far along are you?"

Me: "20 weeks."

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "Oh, you're still early. {Pause} So, why are you so big?"

Me: "Well, I am little so I pop out pretty quickly."

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "Yeah, but people don't usually get that big so fast."

Me: "This is my fourth pregnancy, fifth baby, with no living children, so I show faster than normal."

Can't Keep Her Mouth Shut: "Good luck with that."

Me: "Yeah, thanks."

Laughter And Love

2007-12-18T19:07:00.000-06:00

An evening spent with my team. An evening of relaxing, food, laughter, fun, joy and love. An evening listening to Christmas music and the beautiful sound of BMW's piano playing. An evening of teasing, jokes, gift exchanges, light-hearted conversation, and hints of deep moments too. An evening where I feel like the luckiest girl around to have such a bond with so many people at once. An evening where I can be myself, let my guard down, peek through the walls, because they will love me no matter what. An evening where I look around the room during the story telling and think there is no other place I'd rather be right now. And even though there are a few longtime team members missing, it was an evening to reflect on things of which I am thankful. The people that mean the world to me.

An evening of laughter and love...just what I needed.

All Is Calm...And Uncomfortable

2007-12-16T09:43:00.001-06:00

Comfort is overrated during pregnancy. And, hey, I can deal with that. As long as my discomfort is truly, without a doubt, normal. And then there is trust. I'm finding it hard to trust any medical professional considering I trusted whole-heartedly with Kinsey and Ryan, and paid the highest price possible.

I will be 20 weeks on Wednesday and entering the danger zone in my mind. Our 20 week appointment with Kinsey and Ryan could have possibly saved their lives. It would have definitely bought us time had Dr. Jerk pulled his head out of his butt and taken notice. This pregnancy has patterned itself so closely with the pregnancy I had with Kinsey and Ryan and it freaks me out. My nausea (for the most part) stopped at 17 weeks only to be replaced by pressure. Now, the intense back pain just like before. I huff and puff like a race horse when walking up stairs or exerting any energy, my heart might pound right out of my chest, and I have varicose veins that will rival a 1/4" PVC pipe. Doctors say the difference this time is that I have a gigantic stitch holding this sweet baby girl in, but I'm scared of what my body will concoct next. And, can they be trusted?

My silence is from swirling thoughts in my head that make no coherent sense. I go from excitement to panic in a matter of seconds. I have a lot to say but would be committed if I said it out loud. I want to be knocked out and wake up at 28 weeks. Then, have a celebration and be knocked out again until she is in my arms. Not because I can't take the physical pain, but because I am fragile, weak and emotionally frail. I've fallen in love with her and don't want to give her up. I've allowed myself to enter Target's baby section on several occasions (only for about 5 minutes) and even stupid Pottery Barn Kids yesterday (only for 2 minutes). I actually ~~read~~ flipped quickly through a Parents magazine instead of tossing it in the baby's room like I have for the past 2 years. (Very big stack, I tell you. Never again will I subscribed to anything baby for 2 damn years when I am only 10 weeks pregnant. Idiot.)

Now, enough of that boys and girls...let's be positive!

I do take heart in the fact that even though I am uncomfortable and it is the same kind of uncomfortable as before, I am certainly not as uncomfortable as I was with the twins. And, I've found a nifty and very sexy contraption that allows me to walk upright (I ask a lot, huh?) without the pressure. Dr. S. will be doing the fFN test just for giggles and extra assurance starting on Monday. I will be monitored every 2weeks from here on and will have an ultrasound to check my cervix each time. I've been told that I may stop working as soon as I am ready, which sure beats the hell out of having to break Dr. Jerk's arm just to put me on half days. I know I am in better hands this time, and I am trying with all my might to relax. And relax I will do...just as soon as someone knocks me out. Any takers?

Let Us All Bow Our Heads

2007-11-27T16:58:00.000-06:00

And give thanks for blessings of which we are not worthy.

Thank you FedEx man.

?

2007-11-26T19:38:00.000-06:00

I had my first official dream in which I brought home a live baby.

However, not before I jumped from a cliff into a raging river with a grilled cheese sandwich in hand. I did have the sense to give the baby to a stranger prior to jumping into Niagara Falls though, so that must count for something. And, my grilled cheese sandwich landed safely in a paper plate held by another stranger down on the rocks, so score 3 points for me.

After retrieving the baby that was at that time a boy, I found myself in my childhood home. 2 days later, I realized I hadn't fed the baby (now a girl) at all, to which I responded, "Well, she didn't tell me to feed her!" I successfully fed him (yes, him) for 30 minutes straight without stopping, while watching her (yes, her) belly begin to grow bigger by the minute. I finally burped her and placed her on the bottom of my bunk bed while I removed blanket after blanket, toy after toy, hazard after hazard from her crib all decked out in pink butterflies and ruffles.

And then I woke up.

?

Elf Eviction

2007-11-24T16:23:00.000-06:00

Dear Elf,

It has been widely brought to my attention that you have taken up residence in my uterus next to the current (and legal) tenant, sweet baby girl. For the following reasons, I respectfully request that you pack your bags and hit the road, as I have 164 days left in this pregnancy.

The little spears of fire you throw so viciously are not appreciated nor are they necessary. You must be quite fast if you can throw a spear in my calf, my uterus and my eye all in a matter of seconds. Do you have more friends in there? I mean, we all know sweet baby girl wouldn't do any of this.

Thanks to you, I cannot get comfortable on most occasions and considering the days noted above, this is not acceptable. The heartburn you give me will someday cause me to spontaneously vomit mid-sentence if I can't force it back down my throat. You could at least give me some type of warning.

Due to the energy you suck from my body, you have forced me to do nothing but watch ridiculously bad t.v. from my couch. You continue to keep me from cooking any meal that involves work or real food, and as you know (and everyone in the McD's parking lot found out...including my shoes) you won the fight after lunch the other day.

Considering the above reasons, you are hereby notified to vacate the premises described in the address above (my uterus) within 24 hours of the date of the delivery of this notice to you. I am happy to escort you out in any fashion possible and will even help you find real estate that includes a little more room and is not currently occupied. If you fail to vacate within this period, court proceedings will be taken immediately to evict you from the premises via the honorable Judge, My Babe.

Thank you for your attention to this matter,

The Landlord

Better. And For That I Am THANKFUL

2007-11-22T10:19:00.000-06:00

Thanks to a lot of prayer and some hefty steroids, Peanut is pretty much back to normal. And, considering the holidays are not the brightest of times for me, I am eternally thankful for this gift.

Thanksgiving Day 2000, was the day the doctor called to say my dad had incurable lung cancer.

Thanksgiving weekend 2005, was filled with work on sub plans since I was certain Dr. Jerk was finally going to listen and put me on bed rest. Two days later, I was in the hospital in a magnesium stupor, unsuccessfully trying to stop labor.

But today, Thanksgiving 2007, I am extremely thankful for this pregnancy and sweet baby girl growing as I type. It's just hard to shake the feelings of the holidays, and Thanksgiving marks the beginning.

Please Pray For My Sweet Puppy

2007-11-18T11:26:00.000-06:00

Peanut isn't doing well and I experienced my first ever full blown panic attack. It wasn't pretty and I was even surprised at my unstoppable reaction. I guess I'm just tired of losing things.

The vet says she could have a tumor, could be having mini-strokes or her symptoms could be the result of geriatric vestibular disease. Either way, our time is limited as she is 13 years old. I have had her since she was 6 weeks old and she has lived a long life, but it doesn't change the devastation I will feel when she goes, whether it is today or 3 years from now.

Well, Looky There...I'm One Lucky Duck!

2007-11-17T15:38:00.000-06:00

Thanks to Lori at "Eggs in a Basket" for honoring me with my first award within the infertility blogosphere. I did not bring my acceptance speech with me, but let me just say a hearty THANK YOU and...

I honor Lori over at "Losses and Gains" because she writes every single thing I want to say about losing boy/girl twins at 23 weeks. And, because she's just so dang wise.

I also honor Akeeyu at "herveryown" because she is the best writer I know (or know in my computer) and each day I hope and pray I turn on my computer and find a new post to keep me laughing hysterically.

And, finally, I honor Ann at "The Unlucky 20 Percent" because she just lost a sweet baby boy at 20 weeks. I know the unbearable pain.

Snakes, Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

2007-11-16T20:23:00.000-06:00

Tonka trucks, rocks, crawdads, bikes from dawn to dusk, Hot Wheels, constellations, mud, playing army, GI Joe parachute men, spending hours in the creek, climbing and jumping out of trees, digging for treasures.

I'm certain our little girl will love all this and more...just like her mother.

If I Had A Mannequin Head, I'd Name Her Frankie

2007-11-15T21:44:00.000-06:00

And I'd give her some serious streaks of red in her hair. Skunk like. And she would like it. Because that's what you do with a mannequin head. I'd tuck her under my arm and carry her around with me, hair flowing in the wind, red streaks causing envy everywhere.

That's what you do at the Paul Mitchell Beauty School. And, that's where my brave (and broke) butt went to get my hair trimmed. $15 and 2 hours later, I was out the door. But, not before learning many important things.

Did you know that alpha hydroxy acids are derived from fruit and milk sugars? Did you know that you must be the bravest soul possible to let a fellow student cut(!) and color(!!) your own hair. And I mean cut into super freak styles? Call me silly, but I believe that is what Frankie is for. Did you know that it is possible to have a hair supervisor giving advice to young, impressionable "future professionals" as their shirts boldly announced with a hair style that rivals Dog, The Bounty Hunter? For reals.

My sweet little student was 3 months into her schooling and had an adversion to hair..."Oh! There's hair everywhere!" She sectioned my hair into 10 (I counted.) sections and painstakingly cut each strand of hair with careful precision. At one point I almost snatched the scissors away and said, "For the love of Pete! Let me cut it Granny Moses!" But, I refrained and sat, magazineless, watching her every move. And every move of Death's Door Dora, the student sitting in the chair next to me watching the whole time. She was quite a ray of sparkles as she stared me down, scowl in tow. I brushed her off until hunger took over and I almost asked her if she wanted a piece of the hungry pregnant girl.

Honestly, she did a great job and even caused me to say a little "I will be better with my hair" mantra that lasted just for the day. I will return there. And, I might even have my own little mannequin head tucked under my arm just to pass the time.

Just Frankie and me.

November Resolutions

2007-11-03T11:10:00.000-06:00

1. Start my iPod books again.
2. Buy a prenatal yoga tape before I die from missing my beloved Body Flow class.
3. Be thankful for every second of this pregnancy.
4. Pray harder, longer, more frequently.
5. BREATHE.

Who's That Girl?

2007-11-02T17:23:00.000-06:00

No wedding is complete without wedding pictures...even if they make it to an album three and a half years later. Since I'm home bound, I thought I would do just that, which led me to a string of pictures of My Babe and me from the last six years we've been together. Pictures of camping, rock climbing, skiing, and bike riding. We've been sky diving, canoeing, hiking, and many more things I've always dreamed of doing. I look back and see a girl that resembles me, but not the me I know now. In my mind, I'm still that girl. The girl that used to have a slight bit of muscle tone, skinnier face, long hair with highlights, able (and willing) to wear tank tops without embarrassment, and open to trying anything (almost).

But, the last two and a half years have taken that away. I've spent those years gestating...with no end result. No product. Just a few short hours with two precious babies in my arms, a belly that never went away, and a box of memories that aren't enough to last. I feel robbed of the girl I used to be from my body, to my brain, to my heart. Those that know me and have been around me may or may not agree, but to me it is so obvious, especially after seeing those pictures. Especially when I can't physically do the things we used to do. And, while, it may be temporary, by the time I give birth, I will have spent three years of my life unable to do the things I enjoy due to trying to conceive, pregnancy, and pregnancy loss after loss.

I want the old me back. I want to be stupid and naive about pregnancy and the end result. I want to not have to think about my angel babies on a second to second basis. I want to push the play button since my life has been on hold for so long. I want to move on. I want to be the girl in the pictures again. The girl with the smile that wasn't covering the heartache. I want to find that girl again. If you see her, send her home to me.

Boo!

2007-10-31T14:50:00.000-06:00

One can only painstakingly open the door, greet the cuties with a smile, and comment on their costumes so many times without going stark raving mad. I always vowed I would never put my infant child into a silly costume on Halloween. I've changed my mind. If I am fortunate enough to have a 5 month old child in my arms next Halloween, that kid will be in a hot dog costume. I'll be so happy to have a little trick or treater of my own, that we'll attend every harvest festival, pumpkin patch hoedown, and carnival in town. So what that the baby will sleep through it all.

So, here's to one more Halloween, one more Thanksgiving, one more Christmas, and one more Easter without a little hot dog of my own. And, while it scares me that I'm being so optimistic and (once again) naive, I definitely still have my moments of panic. And, I think my panic will increase as we approach 23 weeks. For now, things are progressing surprisingly well. The cerclage was a piece of cake, I'm resting comfortably, and I only have one more Halloween to endure alone.

Sew 'Er Up Tight, Doc

2007-10-29T20:50:00.000-06:00

Bon-bons anyone?

I will gladly share as I sit on my patootie for the next 2 weeks after the cerclage tomorrow. That is, barring I make it to the surgery alive since I cannot eat after midnight. I requested triple knots in the cerclage string, and Dr. B. said he would quadruple it just for me. I really don't care if he performs a colorful 4th grade weaving project down there...whatever it takes. Just let this work.

My Give a Damn's Busted

2007-10-21T18:53:00.001-05:00

As I sit in my bed, clothed in my robe and underwear (because it's actually 40 degrees in Texas and I'm cold), eating Natural White Cheese Cheeto Cheese Puffs, I realize that I officially do not care. I.Do.Not.Care.

I do not care that mom and I ate a full meal at 4:30pm after the appt. with Dr. B., and on the way home, at 5:30 pm, I went to Bill Miller's BBQ and ordered another full meal complete with 2 orders of hash browns, extra sauce, AND brownies.

I do not care that my body is going into complete and udder What The Hell Kind of Crap Are You Eating Now? mode. If it sounds good, I eat it, regardless of whether I would ever let it touch my mouth on a non-pregnant day.

I do not care that I have zero desire to walk down the stairs and out into the cold garage to get two rolls of toilet paper to replace the two empty rolls upstairs. In fact, my give a damn is so busted that I have a pee plan sans toilet paper in place for this evening.

I do not care that crap is stacked up on my side of the bed and cracker crumbs on the floor will soon be attracting a full blown platoon of ants.

I do not care that my afternoons, evenings, and nights involve a path from my garage directly to my bed, not to be traveled again until morning.

I do not care that my teeth are not being brushed for 2 minutes morning and night. A toothbrush and toothpaste are a sure fire combo for gagging and possibly puking. So, bring on the halitosis and funk.

And I certainly do not care that I am about to tell kindergarten parents that I am going to be out for 2 weeks after the cerclage. In fact, I welcome it. Look forward to it. Let's get the show on the road.

Frogger is measuring beautifully, the nuchal translucency test came back great, and things are looking brighter. We're on for the cerclage next week. Put me out, sew me shut and let's move forward, because my give a damn's busted.

Oh Yeah...And One More

2007-10-18T20:27:00.000-05:00

Idiot HR Person (3 days after delivering): "And how long do you plan to take off?"
Me: "I get six weeks."
Idiot HR Person: "Well...that was before. I think the circumstances have changed now."
Me (almost coming across the table to rip her head off): "My doctor's paperwork said I get six weeks. I just delivered 2 babies that did not live."

Conversations That Need To Get OUT of My Head

2007-10-16T18:00:00.000-05:00

Dr.V: "There's one heartbeat...and there's the other."
Me: "Will I be able to carry twins considering I am so small?"
Dr.V: "You can, but it's going to be difficult."

Butthead Parent 1: "I just heard a nasty rumor about you. Is it true?"
Me: "I don't know. Lots of rumors go on around here. What is it?"
Butthead Parent 1: "I just heard a rumor that you are having twins."
Me: "Yep, that's true - we're very excited!"
Butthead Parent 1: "Well, that's all fine and great, but what about our kids?"

Butthead Parent 2: "________'s mother is DEVASTATED that you are pregnant. She has just cried and cried. Who is going to teach the kids?"
Me: "I'll have a long term sub. It will be just fine."
Butthead Parent 2 (walking off while talking): "Well, she is just devastated."

Me: "Everytime I get up, I feel like a foot or a hand is going to pop out."
Dr. Jerk: "Hmmm...that's interesting. I've never heard of that."

Me: "I wake up at 6am. By 9am, I am hunched over and holding myself because the pressure is so intense."
Dr. Jerk: "Hmmm...I just can't figure out why. Maybe you should just take it easy and sit during the day."
Me: "I am a kindergarten teacher. I do not sit down. I am on my feet 98% of the day. If I need to be sitting, then I need to quit working."
Dr. Jerk: "Well, we don't want you to quit working. Bedrest isn't a good idea all the time."

Me: "I am hurting. My back hurts, and the pressure is very bad."
Dr. Jerk: "Pregnancy is very tough - especially with twins. Hang in there."
Me (crying): "I don't know how this is supposed to feel, but I don't feel good."
Dr. Jerk: "Unfortunately, since you are so little, you've gone from 0-9 months is just 4 months. Just keep resting."

Me: "I feel awful and I can barely walk without holding myself."
Dr. Jerk: "What do you want me to do, MKV?"
Me: "I need to be taken off work or at least work half days."
Dr. Jerk: "Well, we don't like to take you off work unless it is really necessary."
Me: "Do you think it is necessary considering the pressure?"
Dr. Jerk: "What do you want me to do, MKV?"
Me: "I don't know. I guess put me on half days because I cannot make it through a full day of work. I'm telling you, I do not sit down at work."
Dr. Jerk: "If you think that will help."

Butthead Parent 3: "So, are you sure you are going home after your half day?"
Me: "Yes, I am. I can barely walk by 11:30am when the half day is over."
Butthead Parent 3: "Well, I haven't seen your car in the driveway in the afternoons."
Me: "I park in the garage."

Me: "How many hours per day should I spend in bed?"
Dr. Jerk: "There are no restrictions."
Me: "So, it's okay to do laundry, dishes, go upstairs, etc.?"
Dr. Jerk: "There are no restrictions. In fact, I want you up and doing."

Me: "What about a cerclage to sew my cervix up?"
Dr. Jerk: "You are not a candidate for a cerclage."

Dr. Jerk (at our 20 week appt.): "Wow! You're having twins?!? I have twins too."
Me: "What do you think about the cervical length?"
Dr. Jerk (finally picking up my paperwork from the 20 week sono): "Oh, what was it?"
Me: "It was measuring at a 2.8.'
Dr. Jerk: "Oh, that's fine. Anything below 2.5 is cause for concern."
Me: "Well, isn't that close?"
Dr. Jerk: "It should be fine. Just come back in one month and we'll recheck."
Me (crying): "I don't think I can wait a month. Is there any way I can come back in two weeks."
Dr. Jerk: "Well, we're just going to listen to the heartbeat. That's all."

Dr. P (who checked us into the hospital two weeks later): "What we have here is an incompetent cervix. There were signs of this at your 20 week appointment. We have to check you into the hospital."
Me (crying from relief, naively thinking I am finally going to be monitored closely): "Well, good. I knew this was going to happen. Now I can make it to at least 28 weeks."
Dr. P: "You will not make it to 28 weeks. You will deliver in a few days."

Mommy of Four Angels

2007-10-15T19:25:00.000-05:00

On this day of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness, I will never forget you my sweet babies...from the ones I held in my arms to the ones I held in my heart. And will continue to hold forever.

MKV to Pregnancy: Really...Let's Just Be Friends

2007-10-12T21:21:00.000-05:00

10 Weeks Pregnant + Field Day with Kindergarten = Near Death

All Is Well In Frog Land

2007-10-11T20:48:00.000-05:00

The antibiotics have officially kicked in, Zofran is back in my system, My Babe is in the process of making me a grilled cheese sandwich cut neatly into 4 triangles, and Frogger is an official overachiever, measuring a few days ahead of schedule. I could not ask for more.

Sending Out An SOS

2007-10-07T16:14:00.000-05:00

...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---... ...---...

That's Morse Code for, "HELP! GET ME OUT OF THIS BODY!"

I'm throwing in the towel. I give up. I'm sick of being sick. Last week I had a major puke fest, complete with broken blood vessels in my face from the violent heaving and now I'm sick, with fever and a sore throat. AGAIN. I missed work AGAIN. We've had 30 days of school and I have officially missed 5 of those days. I GIVE UP.

The Kindergarten Hell Holes

2007-10-03T20:15:00.000-05:00

No, not the classrooms as you might think...but the bathrooms.

Have you ever smelled toilets that 40 five year old girls and 40 five year old boys use? It ain't pretty, friends. And, it isn't making for an easy time when I must visit this place frequently throughout the day. It's not even the unflushed poop that I see on a daily basis, or the lovely findings on the toilet seat. It's the smell of urine. I must say that my girls need to drink some serious water to dilute their pee because it smells BAD. I hold my breath as I am walking through the hallway that connects my classroom to D's room, right past the nasty little pots. Going into the bathroom is worse, of course. I keep my nose covered with my shirt, but then sometimes my own body smell (on non-pregnant days when I have energy to care, I smell like flowers) starts getting to me and I have to uncover quickly. I just can't win, as going down the hallway and around the corner really isn't an option as frequently as I must go. Lots can happen in a unsupervised and even semi-supervised kindergarten classroom in 2 minutes. Heck, lots can happen in a completely supervised kindergarten classroom in 2 minutes. Lots, I tell you.

Alas, only 2 more days of the Kindergarten Hell Hole for this week.

At This Point, I Don't Care If I Give Birth To A Frog

2007-10-02T21:03:00.000-05:00

As long as I can bring it home, wrap it in a blanket, and stick it in a crib, I'll take it. A frog is exactly what the baby looked like today. Frogger is still alive, measuring ahead of schedule, heart was beating away, and I am quite relieved.

After an emergency "I Have To Eat Right NOW" trip to McDonald's (big fat yuck), we arrive at Dr. B's office. The nurse took my heart rate at 110 bpm confirming my extreme fear and apprehension for just being there. We've never had good luck at Dr. B's until now. Unexpectedly, I was all emotional in the room before the sonographer walked in, and even after she gave us the good news and left. My fears were not calmed until Dr. B, in all his cocky glory, came in. Normally we do NOT deal with doctors that have a cocky presence such as his, but this time I could care less. He can be cocky all he wants as long as he gives me a real live, take home baby. So, we will return to him on the 11th for a "peace of mind" check that I requested (yeah, me!) after he originally said he would see us in 3 weeks. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but he will also see us on the 23rd for the cerclage consultation. For now, I'm keeping all my crossables crossed that Frogger makes it out alive.

October Resolutions

2007-10-01T20:36:00.000-05:00

I missed September, but only because I felt like dog and school was kicking my butt.

1. Think positively.
2. Walk Peanut a little after school instead of heading directly for the bed.
3. Swim once a week.
4. Rely on prayer throughout the day. I'm good about it going to sleep, waking up, and during the "moment of silence" at work, but that's about it.
5. Continue on the "no" path when it comes to extra responsibilities at work.
6. Advocate for the care I feel I need, even when I am feeling shy, defeated, unsure, like a wimp, etc.
6. Remain thankful for the little human I am busy growing.

Okay...Really, I Can't Complain

2007-09-28T23:31:00.000-05:00

This is the best pregnancy I've had to date. Although I certainly do not feel even close to 100%, I can actually eat. Nothing really sounds good, but at least I can eat and that makes me one happy camper, considering I am a big eater. I still want to throw up but it isn't right there in my throat potentially causing me to spontaneously vomit at any given moment. This is mainly in part to the constant stream of nausea medication I've kept in my body. I've learned that when I don't take it on weekends (simply to save the pills since they cost an arm and a leg per pill) that is when I throw up. Nights are not very good either, but I'll take that to feeling badly all the time. Of course this stream of good luck makes me wonder in the back of my mind if the baby is still alive. I haven't had an ultrasound in almost two weeks, so you just never know. This isn't consuming my mind, but I am confident I will feel this anxiety daily.

Which brings me to another reason I cannot complain. I'm sick to read of a fellow blogger's latest loss...her 7th to be exact. Her repeated second trimester loss has me waking in the middle of the night, stopping in the middle of the day, wondering what she is doing. Knowing the physical things her body is going through right this minute. Knowing that her body has no idea she doesn't have a baby to hold. Knowing the devastation and the tears that just won't stop. I do not know her, have no idea what she looks like, and will never meet her, but I hurt for her. Unfair doesn't even begin to describe the situation.

It Was The Banana Family

2007-09-23T17:22:00.000-05:00

I got rid of the high fever after 5 days, only to be blindsided by "morning" (24/7) sickness that very day. The last couple of weeks have been tough. My kindergarten children no longer look at me funny as I gag over the trash can several times per day. No telling what they say to their parents about it, but it seems that they view it as normal now. I can no longer bring home food from a restaurant without all four windows rolled down and my head sticking out. Even then I might scream at any moment, "Throw the food the hell out of the window!"

I had 3 good days last week. I am convinced it was the family of bananas my mom bought for me. I should've cloned the damn things since one of my children's parents works in a lab where they clone cows (serious business). For 3 glorious days I ate a banana before getting out of bed along with those little rectangle Club crackers. Those were days that I could actually smile, laugh, and only want to half-puke all day long. But, that family of bananas is long gone and it seems that no others can take their place. In fact, if a banana comes within 1 foot of my mouth, I might hurl. And don't bring me a Club cracker either unless you want to get smacked down.

Speaking of hurling...ever puked up trail mix? I highly do not recommend it. That's been my day today.

If it seems like I'm whining...I am. In fact, I've earned that considering this is my fourth pregnancy with no take home baby and each time I've been equally as sick. Being sick does NOT mean this pregnancy is healthy. It just means I have damn good hormones that like to make themselves heard.

However, I am thankful. I am thankful to God for the opportunity again. I am thankful that everything looked great at our 7 week sonogram. I am thankful that I have THE BEST HUSBAND IN THE WORLD, and I am thankful that maybe, just maybe this could be the one.

Hey Fool (self): It's No Longer Allergies When...

2007-09-07T16:35:00.000-05:00

1. The sight, sound, taste, feeling of water makes my skin crawl.
2. I have on a sweatshirt, long pajama pants, and the A/C up to 80 degrees in August.
3. Chills.
4. Sweat.
5. A throat so sore I am trying not to swallow and when I do, I wince.
6. Hot.
7. Cold.
8. Fever of 102 degrees.
9. Aches.
10. Pains.
11. Stiff neck.
12. Gatorade sounds good.
13. The couch becomes the infirmary.
14. Anything touching my skin hurts.
15. I'm actually okay with watching all 2 hours of "VH1's Top 40 Greatest Pranks."

I've Taken A Second Job

2007-09-02T14:52:00.000-05:00

My first job I've had for 9 years. It's the brain engineer job where I take care of everyone else's children. I teach them to read, write, think critically, be respectful, to love friends, laugh, and be inquisitive. This is the job that sucks the life out of me most days, but pays in unseen rewards beyond measure. This is the job that I'm actually pretty good at, but tend to take too seriously (especially the last few days). This job has run my life for 9 years.

My newest job is much more important. It will take precedence over my first job. It will take more energy and strength than I have some days. It will require a great deal of rest, faith, healthy choices, and positive thinking. It will be all consuming, but will pay better than any other job on earth. This job will guide my thinking, my actions, and my words. This job requires me to put everything and everyone else on the back burner. And although I know too well that this job involves a great deal of risk, I remain confident that this job will lead me to a place I've been praying for.

My new job is Pregnancy #4 and I'm excited but scared to death.

Goodbye Grandpa

2007-08-23T19:16:00.000-05:00

Today you went to Heaven and I couldn't be happier for you. I know you have been desperately waiting to be reunited with Grandma for years. Thank you for taking me in as your own. I will forever wear Grandma's ring with honor.

Uh...What Just Happened?

2007-08-22T21:58:00.001-05:00

This whole "Back to School" thing is really cramping my style. My body is in a perpetual state of shock and I'm sick of hitting the sack at 11:30pm or later, only to wake up all bright eyed, bushy tailed, and rather ticked at 3am. For some odd reason, I feel the need to write down these random thoughts that plague my mind at 3am. In pitch darkness, I write profound things like, "fish" and "straw" on a notepad. Now, the "fish" part is understandable because I really will forget to take the fish out of the freezer unless I write it down. However, the "straw" part is just silly as I am convinced...did I mention at 3am?...that I need a straw for my morning smoothie to decrease the risk of blueberry and strawberry seeds embarassingly lodging themselves between my teeth. Really? Who does that? Alas, time marches on, ~~my imprisonment~~ school officially begins Monday, and things will begin to "settle" down. Until then, I will continue to tend to my wounds and battle scars each night (read: paper cuts) and just hope for the best.

Oh, and to the lady that found this site by searching "must get pregnant or go insane", I say...amen.

Ugh...

2007-08-13T19:32:00.000-05:00

My head is spinning and it aches. I feel dizzy. My neck aches. My belly feels like it might blow at any given moment.

We can either chalk this up to nasty Clomid and the two (yes, I said two!) big follicles I currently have. Or, we can say it is a nasty case of the I Don't Want To Go Back To Work Tomorrows.

Either way, I feel like a dog.

The Bathroom Tells Me So

2007-08-10T10:26:00.000-05:00

I don't normally find luck in a bathroom, but yesterday was a little different. I reach for the toilet paper and there, sitting upon the holder, was a nice little piece of paper. A fortune to be exact. And this is what it said...

You will have a beautiful family.

Girl's Beach Weekend

2007-08-05T19:58:00.000-05:00

August Resolutions

2007-08-02T21:17:00.000-05:00

1. I will remain calm despite adversity.
2. I will bite my tongue when necessary.
3. I will overcome fear and say things that are necessary.
4. I will be productive in the last days before school starts.
5. I will draw lines where lines should have been drawn long ago.
6. I will stop allowing myself to be bullied and brought down.
7. I will spend time relaxing and not feel guilty.
8. I will help others as much as I have been helped in the past.
9. I will be open to change.
10. I will accept new friends with open arms.

Just Let Me Do This...

2007-07-30T21:09:00.000-05:00

Because, frankly, I'm a little ticked.

WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM US???

We've tried everything. We eat healthy, organic foods and have for the past 2 years. I don't salt my food, I eat the correct amount of fruits and vegetables daily, and I try to avoid dairy in large amounts (okay, not ice cream). We haven't used anything other than non-toxic chemicals in our house for over 2 years - even down to my shampoo. I go to acupuncture...I've even started taking the damn herbs. I have avoided yoga and pilates (at Dr. request and against my will!), and didn't do Urban Assault even though I was dying to. I listen to the Bible on my I-Pod (I fall asleep reading it, sorry God.) I've read The Complete Organic Pregnancy book cover to cover. Hell, I've read tons of books. I teach children to read, write, be inquisitive about life and to love others. I drink a lot of water. I regularly attend church. I tithe...even though we are soon going to rent our house out for a year and MOVE IN WITH MY MOM since infertility has us so far in debt we can't see straight. (Yes, you read that right.) I don't drink alcohol, haven't had a Coke in 3 months, I practice deep breathing, visualization, and all that BS. I get 8 hours of sleep, avoid unnecessary medication, I've never smoked, and I pray. A lot.

Don't tell me we're trying too hard. Don't tell me to "relax", that I'm young, that it will happen when the time is right, to just believe, that it wasn't meant to be before, to enjoy the time I have alone, that stress makes it worse, that our losses were "for the best", to stay positive, or to "just" adopt. I don't want to hear what your friend's cousin's aunt did to get pregnant, that I need to "enjoy" trying, or I just need to take a vacation. It's best not to tell me how easy you get pregnant or how you have to be really careful since your husband looks at you and you are pregnant. It's best not to tell me that you will just die if you don't have the sex of baby that you wish to have next, or about the twins and triplets your friend just had.

I can't walk in my neighborhood, go to the store, to a restaurant, to church, to work, to the gym, listen to the radio, have a face to face conversation, drive in a car, talk on the phone, read my email, or watch tv without the constant reminder of what I do not have or the reminder of what I could have had. It's tiring. It weighs heavily on me. It's a burden I try to give to God, but have not quite figured out how to release myself from.

Don't stop calling me if I don't answer. Sometimes it is just too much to pick up the phone. If I smile and it doesn't seem genuine, don't be hurt. If I seem distant, don't take it the wrong way. Don't judge me. A mother's grief after losing four babies is raw, primal, deep, and as a good friend once said...normal and necessary. I cry a lot...you just don't see it. I can put on a happy face and for the most part, it's real. But, if I get quiet in a conversation, be sensitive. We may be talking about teaching, cooking, or shopping...but I will be thinking about my babies. My mind will be wrapped around their faces, their fingers, their toes. Don't stop talking to me. Don't tiptoe around me or ignore the whole thing altogether. It's nice if you acknowledge Kinsey and Ryan. I will probably cry right then and there, but it's not like I wasn't thinking about them 2 seconds before. Don't stop talking about your children because I love them and celebrate each of their milestones right along with you. Don't hold it from me if you are pregnant or fret over how I am going to handle it...just don't rub it in. Tell me that this sucks and that you are praying for us. That's about all that you can say.

By now, if you know me in real life, you might be thinking I am writing this about you. However, I am not. Yes, all of the above things have been said to me, and I know that I've said some myself before I became a case study in infertility. I'm writing to get it out so my head does not explode. I don't write any of this for your sympathy or for attention - if you know me, you only have this address because it alleviates some of the stress of communicating the progress in person or on the phone. I'm writing because I am angry, bitter, and very jealous. I'm writing so tomorrow I can come that much closer to putting on a happy face and meaning it all day long. I'm writing so My Babe can know my innermost thoughts when I act irrational, short, distant and quiet. I'm writing to educate others on the excruciating pain of infertility. I'm writing because I don't want to lose hope, I don't want to lose faith, and this is the only way I can get through it. I write this for my sweet babies, to honor their lives and to mourn the loss. I write to heal. I write this for me.

100% NEGATIVE

2007-07-30T15:29:00.001-05:00

Enough said?

Watch Out People!

2007-07-25T23:01:00.000-05:00

Soon this will be me for only $9.97 a year.

Dinner With The Peeps

2007-07-25T22:09:00.000-05:00

Just a Little Math For Ya

2007-07-24T20:53:00.000-05:00

If Melissa is pulled in x directions at a rate of y + 5,431 per minute, how long will it take Melissa to go insane?

Please choose from the following options:

a. ~~What do you mean? Melissa never goes insane.~~ 3 days
b. 7 days
c. .5 seconds
d. Melissa stays insane.

Unfortunately, I think we all know the correct answer.

The Power of Rice Socks

2007-07-21T17:34:00.000-05:00

Warning: Bring a rice sock within 15 yards of my body and I might unleash a full blown crying spell.

I cleaned out the babies room today. I say babies because that's just what was going to be in there - two babies. I know it will turn into the baby's room someday, but for now it is still for my sweet babies that never came home. You would think a lot of things might send me into a crying frenzy while accomplishing this task. The sonogram pictures, the sonogram video, the maternity clothes, the picture frames we were given, the outfits that came in twos since most were determined to dress the babies alike against my will, the baby booties, the twin magazines and books, the diapers my mother bought by the droves (and judging by her garage, she still buys), the cards of congratulations, the pictures of My Babe's family with their mouths gaping open after we told them I was pregnant, the samples of formula, the initial announcement that Dr. Jerk thought we were having two boys, or the books we bought for each baby, The Gift of an Angel.

No, those did not send me into a conniption (hey, that's really in the dictionary!) fit. What did, however, were rice socks. You see, those rice socks were my saving grace during the intense nausea and extreme back pain. There was nothing like the fresh-out-of-the-microwave feeling to relieve me from the hell I had come to know as pregnancy. I never left the house without a steaming hot rice sock tucked behind my back and sides, even when driving short distances. My Babe would heat up 5 of those suckers each night and we would build Fort Knox around my body with rice socks and pillows. And, ultimately, rice socks pulled me through the last night at home. The night I should have gone to the hospital. The night I should have listened to my body. The night I could have changed the outcome of the pregnancy. The night I failed Kinsey, Ryan, My Babe and myself.

Don't tell me differently, because I'll never believe it. Don't tell me I did the best I could because I didn't. Yes, I did not know what to expect or what to feel, but I did know that those babies were going to come sooner than they should. I read premature labor books cover to cover. I did not contact a perinatologist even though my gut told me to. I did not stop working just to please the parents of the kids in my class even though my gut told me to. I continued to be on my feet because Dr. Jerk said I should even though my gut told me to rest. I constantly told myself to "suck it up." I was stubborn, naive, and just plain stupid.

The sight of the rice socks brought me back to that night. And while I think of that night, oh...every 10 seconds of the day, I allowed myself to dwell on it for a little while. To dwell on the greatest loss I have ever felt, the feeling of holding those sweet babies in my arms, the sight of their long legs and toes, the memory of what could have been, and the hope and faith for what is still to come.

So, for all of you thinking of bringing a rice sock within my scope anytime soon, you are agreeing to deal with the dire consequences. You have been warned.

Planes, Trains, Automobiles...and Follicles

2007-07-14T15:45:00.000-05:00

After a two hour delay, we were off to Indiana and I snuggled in next to My Babe for a please-let-me-sleep nap. I awoke from a slight snooze to the sound of screaming -definitely not something you want to hear on an airplane. I hear a fizzing sound and immediately think we have blown a gasket or a terrorist has unleashed a serious gas bomb and we are going down. I look back to see the flight attendant crouching on the floor, holding a spewing object. Turns out it was only a Coke.

The rest of the flight was uneventful and we arrived at the car rental place. We go through the usual of declining insurance coverage, declining the gas tank fill-up, declining the upgrade, just give me the car already, declining the convertible...wait...convertible? So, we splurge, telling ourselves that grandpa will really like it. I almost back out when she says the car is orange, which is a complete and utter no-no in my Aggie family, but we proceed with the papers and head out to the ever so flashy car. Anyone that knows me can tell you that I strive 99% of the day to NOT be noticed and nothing helps out that phobia like an orange convertible. We should have twitched just a little when we could not fit our suitcase in the trunk, nor in the back of the car with the top up. But, noooo, we proceed. I get into the extremely low seats, cannot see a damn thing, sit on my Mogu, put on my huge you-can't-see-me sunglasses, and prepare myself for a flurry of looks as people encounter the burnt-orange bomb. I'm terrified as we pull out onto the highway because:

1) I've never been in a convertible. On the highway.
2) In light of recent events, car accidents are always on my mind.
3) I keep playing a roll over, smashed head scene in my mind.
4) I'm waaaaay exposed in this car. People can see me.

My Babe, master of distraction, questions me:

My Babe: "Do you know why that street is called 'Stop 13'?"
Me: "I have no idea."
My Babe: "Well, a long time ago, there used to be a railroad system here and this was (you guessed it) Stop 13 for the trains."
Me (approaching another stop light): "Hmmm...interesting."
My Babe: "Do you know why that street is called 'Stop 11'?"

We push through and arrive at the nursing home. The guest quarters rival hotels in which we have stayed...very nice to say the least. We venture over to grandpa's room and decide to take him out to supper, wheelchair and all. I pull the car around to the front, top down, smiling, knowing this is going to be great. Grandpa settles in the front and we proceed to fold the wheelchair...that doesn't fit in the car. Immediately tickle machine kicks in and we cannot stop laughing uncontrollably as we try to maneuver around the wheelchair beast. Finally, I squeeze in the backseat, half on/half off the seat. My Babe folds himself into an accordion, gets in the driver's side, and we're off - still completely hysterical as the wheelchair is sticking up 3 feet in the air, wheels flapping in the wind. Did I mention I do not like to draw attention to myself? Ultimately, the orange beauty gave us a ton of laughs and grandpa liked the sun and wind on him. We also took My Babe's grandma for a spin as she carefully protected her hair with my jacket. I grew fond of the convertible, comfortable with the top down, but never in love with the color.

And now, we are back home with good news to report on the reproduction front. I had a size 22mm follicle today and a plump lining. Give it up for the herbs! We'll do the Ovidrel shot to release the follicle tonight and IUI on Monday. For now, I'm tired. Planes, trains, automobiles, and follicles have me spent.

Goodbye My Sweet Kitty

2007-07-09T17:57:00.000-05:00

I'm sick of bad days. We put my cat, Wrangler, down today because he recently developed cancer and was in pain. He was a sweet cat (most of the time), but definitely enjoyed ambushing me in his younger years. We got him when he was a few weeks old and had him for 14 years.

And, to make things even better today...no mature follicles. We will recheck on Saturday after our trip to Indiana (sans the thrill for the oldies) and then move to injectables. I'm sick of bad days.

Giving The Oldies A Thrill

2007-07-06T20:46:00.000-05:00

Ever conceived in a nursing home? As luck would have it, thanks to my ever-so-sweet cycle, I might do just that. I finished the hellish Clomid and Dr. V. will check follicles on Monday. If all goes according to plan (ha!), My Babe will give me the Ovidrel injection on Monday, making our optimal conception time for Wednesday. Impeccable timing as we are visiting My Babe's grandpa in Indiana...in a nursing home. Being that we are ~~money~~ ~~conscientious~~ in mega debt, we are staying in the guest quarters at the nursing home. This should make for an interesting trip for all. Never a dull moment around here.

We're Back!

2007-07-06T19:24:00.000-05:00

July Resolutions

2007-07-01T12:17:00.000-05:00

1. I will focus on cooking again.
2. I will continue swimming.
3. I will help mom with her house and the maintenance it needs.
4. I will clean out the kitchen cabinets.
5. I will no longer accept debt as a way of life.
6. I will stare opportunity straight in the face and refuse, no matter how much I try, refuse to close the door.
7. I will have courage to defeat my fears.
8. I will not let others fears, misunderstandings, and attitudes guide my thinking.

A Big Fat Negative

2007-06-27T13:55:00.000-05:00

Bummer. I'm mainly sad that I am not able to get as much of the "morning" sickness out of the way during the summer. However, I have been so lucky in the past with getting pregnant easily. It will happen next time and that will be the time that it sticks for good. Oh well, at least I can eat a pound of lunch meat without the threat of Listeria, go white water rafting, and swing out over the Royal Gorge on our vacation next week if I feel like it.

Death, Be Gone With You

2007-06-26T20:57:00.000-05:00

I didn't sleep last night, just like most of the people in my immediate part of the world, I'm sure. I wrote in my head, tossed and turned, dreamed of at least 3 different car accidents, and stared at My Babe sleeping soundly beside me (and thank you, dear God, for that.) I need not be reminded of the brief time we have on this earth with our loved ones. I think about that every time I kiss My Babe as he walks out the door to one of the riskiest jobs around. I do not rest until he walks back in the door again. I know that each day I have with my family, my team, my friends might be my last. And somehow, I forget that all at the same time. I forget to live in the moment, to choose kindness, to love unconditionally, to give the benefit of the doubt, and to give freely to others.

Nothing brings it home more than death.

Three of our teachers were killed in a car accident yesterday.

Susan, our speech therapist, loved our team and always wanted to teach with us. According to her, we were her favorite team. Our neighbor until just recently, she and her husband had just moved to their dream home. She couldn't wait for us to come over for a pool party. She worked closely with our kindergarten children and did an amazing job with them.

Pat, our counselor, was probably the most well dressed counselor in the world. Always organized, always proper, and always ready to party. Pat dancing at Nat's wedding was quite a sight to behold. I think we all nearly peed in our pants from laughter that night. Pat and I always joked at how we couldn't look at each other during meetings because, inevitably, one of us would make a face and set the other one off laughing at an inappropriate time.

Debbie, a first grade teacher, taught kindergarten with us for a couple of years. Never have I met a woman more capable than Debbie of being a successful stand-up comedian. Teaching with Debbie kept us hysterical on most days. Like Pat, she was always well dressed, never repeating an outfit within a year's time span. Recess in a full mink coat posed quite a few laughs, as well as her stories of porridge (beef stew to her) and using striped toothpaste and Bisquick to fill in holes in apartment ceilings and walls (in Texas...in the summer...you get the picture).

Susan, Pat, and Debbie...you are loved and will be missed.

So Far...That Would Be a Negative

2007-06-25T16:46:00.000-05:00

We'll find out for sure on Wednesday.

My Shadow

2007-06-17T17:45:00.000-05:00

My Babe gladly takes backseat to all of my many emotions, trials, and tribulations. We seem to be consumed with my moods, my infertility, and my everything. When I find myself wallowing in the sorrow of losing our babies, I have to remind myself that I am not the only one that has lost four children. My Babe may not have experienced the pregnancies and deliveries first hand, but he held my hand throughout. I know the thoughts plaque his mind daily - the "What ifs?" and the "Whys?" I know he hurts.

Today was a day made especially for My Babe. He got to pick what we ate (a once in a lifetime opportunity...I assure you), he got to pick what we did/did not do. He was completely in charge of the day. It felt so nice and made me feel sad at the same time. How is it that I have grown so far from taking care of him and his needs/wants? This was a great day to bring me back to my senses.

The message at church today was exactly on target for everything I know without a doubt My Babe will be when he has the chance to parent. He will be the most present, committed provider, protector, mentor and friend. I cannot wait to experience it with him.

Happy Father's Day to My Babe, my shadow, and the best daddy ever to our four angels in Heaven.

I'm Not Sick...But I'm Not Well

2007-06-15T22:56:00.001-05:00

I don't know how to get past it.

I don't know how to rid myself of the poisonous nervous stomach that paralyzes me for no apparent reason.

I haven't fully enjoyed my marriage to summer yet because of it. I think I'm consciously sabotaging myself and I need a swift kick in the rear. My head spins, my stomach churns, I dread going anywhere and seeing anyone, and I am not even close to productive. I've pushed myself hard this summer - trying to find a solution to our debt, "learning" how to swim, and forcing myself to do things completely out of my comfort zone. I've tried to lower my expectations, but it doesn't help the constant whirlwind inside my head and the sickness I feel. Exercise has helped tremendously, but not enough to maintain the feeling throughout the day. After seeing my awesome acupuncturist today, I felt better than I have since my marriage to summer began. I really only have a few things to feel sick about...nothing life threatening for sure. Nothing that should cause such anxiety that I'm on the verge of losing it.

The dreaded "Two Week Wait", the limbo between knowing if I am pregnant or not, isn't even really concerning me. It's the small potatoes that haunt me. I called a counselor that my acupuncturist recommends today. I am anxious (surprise!) to talk with her and develop strategies to tackle this monster sans my beloved Pink Pills.

Celebrating Our Third Anniversary

2007-06-14T20:45:00.000-05:00

We celebrated our third anniversary at Trois Estate yesterday. Fredricksburg is our special place since we got engaged at the top of Enchanted Rock. We found Trois Estate (across from Enchanted Rock) three years ago and have returned every year since.

Maturing A Little More Each Day

2007-06-11T21:53:00.000-05:00

I had my first swim class today. Let's just say that I was in a little bit of a foul mood about it before going. I don't like new people, I don't like new places, I don't like being incompetent, and I certainly don't like a nervous stomach. Let's get this straight...I know how to swim, but I would like to get better at technique and most importantly - breathing properly.

This afternoon I managed to once again work myself into such a frenzy about this new risk that I was taking that I almost didn't go. It didn't make things any better when I hear my name screamed across the entire pool by the sweet father and family of a kindergartner I taught this past year. A brief conversation ensues...

Him: "Mrs. V! What are YOU doing here?"

Me: "Oh, well I'm just taking a swim class."

Him: "You don't know how to swim?!?!?"

Me: "Well, yes, I can swim but I'm not too great at the breathing thing while swimming freestyle. I'm a little nervous."

Him: "Wow! Everyone should know how to swim. I mean, that's a survival skill! That's great that you are learning!"

Me: "Well, actually, I know how to swim, I just want to get better."

Him: "Oh, I can't believe it! That is great that you are trying to learn!"

Me: "Yes, I'm sure trying!"

Him (talking to daughter): "________, tell Mrs. V. not to be nervous!"

Does it matter that he thinks I can't swim? Absolutely not - and it was a great lesson in "just let it be." I tried to enjoy the moment of seeing him and the rest of the family... of course while slightly freaking out on the inside as I am standing there in a bathing suit. After all the negativity, nerves, and non-necessary nincompoopery, the swim class went well. Even after they called the Nitro Swimming instructor over to help me with my breathing and we proceeded to bob up and down like children.

Risk-taking is not my cup of tea. I like the known, predictable and common. It sounds silly at the ripe young age of 31 to be so extremely afraid of new adventures and new situations. However, I am pushing myself a little more each day. Now I must learn to change my thinking in order to change my life. I must work on the negative thoughts that plague my being, freeze my insides, and make things so much harder for me than they should be.

Yes, I'm maturing a little more each day.

Wanna know what else is maturing? The big fat beast of a follicle Dr. V. found today. Yippee! I will take the Ovidrel shot tonight!

Hurdle One...Check.

2007-06-08T09:02:00.000-05:00

So, I successfully jumped hurdle one without face planting. Dr. V. reports that there is no more scar tissue(!) and that everything looks great. At one point he thought he saw polyps on our scan, which would completely not surprise me, but after checking with a radiologist, he is confident everything is fine.

Now for hurdle two. We will go in on Monday to check for mature follicles. Clomid better have done its thing because this time I'm not playing around.

Prayers for today are as follows:

*Melissa will make it through a 48 hour shift without My Babe and will not shed one tear.
*Follicles are maturing like a beast inside of me.
*Melissa will remain productive, calm and rational in the wake of the hellish Clomid.

WHY??

2007-06-06T14:26:00.001-05:00

Why didn't we spend more time holding the babies? Why didn't we take more pictures? Why didn't we see them again before we left the hospital? Why didn't we get a casket? Why didn't we have a memorial service? Why don't I talk about them more? Why don't I write about them more?

What in the world were we thinking??

I don't know when these questions will stop plaguing me on a daily basis. I don't think they ever will.

We can't ever take it back. I want to hold them. I want pictures of their tiny hands. I want pictures of their long toes and legs just like My Babe's. I'm sick.

Grief strikes me so hard, so quick, out of nowhere. It immobilizes me. I am thankful that it is summer and I can cry without having to do so while speed peeing in the classroom bathroom for once.

The hurt is deeper than I have ever known.

Why?

Meme

2007-06-06T12:54:00.000-05:00

I've been tagged for a meme by, Lori, a mother of 5 children...3 earthly and 2 sweet babies, Molly and Joseph, born and lost at 23 weeks just like our Kinsey and Ryan. Lori has also lost her father, so it seems we have a lot in common.

What I'm told is that a meme in blogland is a series of statements that begin with "I am..."

So, without further ado...

I am a flip-flop lover. Everyday. All day.

I am a leader at school, but not really in life.

I am a thinker, a questioner, and a wonderer. Thank goodness, for My Babe who answers my questions with great patience.

I am scared of opportunity and what could possibly be.

I am a recurrent dreamer of vomit - at least three times a month. Don't ask.

I am completely anal retentive about the placement of the pillows on our couch. Sometimes I think of them at night and know that they are downstairs, out of order.

I am determined.

I am an extreme lover of all animals, elderly, and people with special needs. So much so, that is causes me physical pain to see one of the three in need.

I am stubborn.

I am quick to anger...but working on it.

I am strong on the outside with my grief, but so weak on the inside. I miss my babies with every ounce of my soul, every single second of the day.

I am introverted and shy. I need to learn how to loosen up and have more fun.

I am so in love with My Babe.

I am going to be a mother someday.

June Resolutions

2007-06-01T22:02:00.000-05:00

1. I will finish all of my audio books.
2. I will pack away all baby items. (Really, we have a lot.)
3. I will take a swimming class.
4. I will strengthen my legs for running. Ha! Seriously this time.
5. I will really, really work on my moods.
6. I will really, really work on my temper.
7. I will be a better friend.
8. I will be a better listener.
9. I will be slow to react.
10. I will say "no" when needed.
11. I will be easier on myself.

Summer And I Are Officially Married

2007-05-29T21:20:00.001-05:00

I am in love with Summer - and I don't say that lightly. Polygamy has never appealed to me in the least bit, but when it involves Summer, I have to reconsider.

Summer and I were meant to be from the get go. Summer gives me freedom like I have never known. Summer lets me take long walks, lets me sleep in if I want, and lets me go to the gym during the slow hours. Summer doesn't care if I wash my hair, if I put on makeup, or if I even brush my teeth. Summer supports my late night habits and my disdain for the alarm clock. Summer doesn't make me speed pee each time I go to the bathroom, or scarf down my food. Summer lets me actually eat breakfast, go to the store when I feel like it, and spend time outside. When Summer and I are together, I feel normal. I feel good. I can breathe. I can think straight.

Before you feel sorry for My Babe, don't worry, we'll break up soon...too soon. August 14th to be exact. And, when that time comes, I will mourn the loss deeply. For now, I am officially married to Summer and lovin' every minute of it.

An Aching Heart That Cannot Be Fixed

2007-05-24T15:28:00.001-05:00

Let's face it - I don't get close to people. I still talk often to the same friends I have known since elementary, middle, and high school. I have no friends from college. Not one. I have friends from work, but we don't actively do things together.

And then there is my team...adopted team members included.

My team that celebrates the good, and cries along with me during the bad...every single day. My team that lets me rant, rave, act like a brat, and still loves me like family. So, how does one patch a hole the size of the universe when a team member (and possibly two) leaves? I can't stop crying. Another town is close, yet so much farther than I imagined. Especially when it is someone that is so deeply seeded in my heart. It won't go away. She is packing and moving as I type. I said my goodbyes today, but I already want to see her again. My heart aches and it cannot be fixed.

This Just In...Pessimistic Melissa Wins Again

2007-05-21T19:55:00.001-05:00

I am in a serious foul mood. This foul mood has lasted since Saturday. It's Monday, people...this is ridiculous. I fight this with each cell in my body, but it wins every single time. It consumes me, makes it miserable for My Babe, and I need Pink Pills. Usually I can fake a good mood, but I can't even fake it this time. It makes me tired - makes me weary - makes me sad - makes me not fun to be around. The happier someone is around me, the worse I feel. It pains me to write. It pains me to smile.

There are several things hanging over my head that I just can't let go. Two are major things and one is so incredibly tiny that it isn't even worth a minute of energy. However, I dwell on it...seek the negative over and over and over. I've tried more strategies than I can shake a stick at, but I still continue to focus on the negative. In fact, I think I'm getting worse. To make matters even more dismal (because I like that, you know), I'm pumped up with good ol' fertility drugs which make me want to rip my hair out. My book, Authentic Happiness, says that people who are really happy are just born that way. Those that are not so happy can make themselves happier by using strategies, but will never really be high as a kite happy because they weren't born that way. Well, crap. I'm out of luck, which makes me really happy. But, I'm determined to change. I'm determined to beat it....just not today. Today, pessimistic Melissa wins. And, really, it's okay.

Team V at the March of Dimes Walk

2007-05-19T23:09:00.001-05:00

Thank you to R and the girls for walking with us! And thanks to everyone that donated to Team V:

TC & RC
RC & MC
GH & DH
MK & HK
SP & NP
BV & CV
GV
JW

Let's Hear It For Number Two!

2007-05-19T22:15:00.000-05:00

No, not that kind.

I'm officially back in the saddle. If I fall off this horse again, I am going to be super pissed.

My levels are negative, so we are once more on the road to motherhood. Have I mentioned I'm terrified? I mean, really, let's do this thing correctly. You know what they say...the fourth time's a charm!

I'm sick of receiving coupons for formula, samples of diapers, magazines that say, "Your baby at X months," and baby lotion I can't use. This time, the fourth time, I will not be so stupid (maybe) as to sign up for everything under the sun related to babies until I am more than positive this might work. I am, however, stupid enough to save that crap in the baby's room. I'm really good at cracking the door open (because if you crack it rather than open it, the room doesn't really exist and all is well), chunking it in there, and slamming it quickly. There is a mound about 2 feet high of it, and I better get to use it soon.

I've got my game face on and my hurdle jumping shoes laced. For now, I say...Three Cheers for Number Two!

Will The "Real" Mothers Please Stand Up?

2007-05-13T19:46:00.000-05:00

I'm torn when all the mothers stand at church to be honored. I can't stand. I never changed their diapers. I never fed them. I never dressed them. I never bathed them. I never heard them cry. I never rocked them to sleep. I never got up in the middle of the night. I never pushed them in a stroller. I haven't sacrificed. I can't stand.

However, I am a mother.

I carried my babies. My body changed. I felt the kicks. I knew their personalities - strong and feisty, calm and passive. I had the sickness and heartburn. I managed the intense back pain. I felt the pressure. I told the doctor. He didn't listen. I tried my best. I failed.

I delivered them.

I held them. I watched them gasp for breath. I felt their heartbeat...and felt it fade away. I held their hands and touched their tiny feet. I kissed them. I gave them back to Heaven.

I came home alone.

I am a mother, but someday I will get to stand.

I Don't Like Odd Numbers

2007-05-11T17:10:00.000-05:00

I am a very even girl. I like all things even. When I eat candy or anything that involves pieces, I eat them in even numbers. Often, I count my steps - all must end in even numbers. Sometimes while counting, I will take an extra step or a giant step in order to get to an even number. I count ceiling tiles, lightbulbs, numerous different things on a daily basis. Most do not end in even numbers, but I can rig my counting to get around it. I will just count whatever I am counting 2 times or 4 times if I feel like it. It's insanity, I tell you. Which brings me to a very big problem for the next 365 days. Today I am 31.

Exactly one year ago today, I sat in the perinatologist's office awaiting the showing of my 10 weeks old baby's heartbeat. Note to self: Never schedule a sonogram on your birthday. Exactly one year ago today, I found out there was no longer a heartbeat. Exactly one year ago today, I swore I would be pregnant by Christmas. Exactly one year ago today, I never thought it would happen to me again. Exactly one year ago today, more of my heart was ripped away, causing me to forever change - to forever be a different person. And here I am, one year later, with empty arms.

Today I received a bit of even news. My progesterone is down to a 4. It's not the bright and shining news I would like for my birthday, but at least we are on the way to the 2 we need. Heck, I'll even accept a dreaded 1. Anything to get me closer to motherhood and counting children running around my house rather than lightbulbs.

Houston...We Have a Problem

2007-05-04T21:34:00.000-05:00

R.I.P. Little Squashy
May 2, 2007 - May 6, 2007

It seems we have a problem with reproduction and life around here. Not only does it rain on Little Squashy's parade, but it rains on ours too. Little Squashy couldn't handle the constant flow of moisture coming from the Austin clouds lately. Can Little Squashy's mother handle the constant flow of blood coming from her veins into a vial, only to find out her Progesterone is just down to Unlucky Number 7? Sure, I should be happy that it is down and we are very close to trying again. However, I've been down this road before, my friend, and it has not turned out pretty. The crazy part of me is downright giddy that I might be pregnant again so soon. Don't get me wrong...there is absolutely nothing about pregnancy that makes me giddy. In fact, it makes me pukey, bi%#@y, and quite wiggity wack. It's the thought that maybe, just maybe, this will be the one that lasts. I mean, seriously, how many more random complications can we have?

And then, there is the realistic side of me that says, "Whoa, Nelly...you still have way too many hurdles to jump over." I haven't ever trained for hurdle jumping. I don't even like track meets. Who wants to run as fast as you can in a circle, going nowhere? That seems to be how this pregnancy, birth, and living thing goes for me and for Little Squashy - absolutely nowhere.

God Hears, "Amen," Wherever We Are

2007-05-03T06:15:00.001-05:00

My prayers usually start with gratitude and thanksgiving for the blessings in my life. Half the time, lying in bed, I fall asleep - never getting to the good part when I ask God for the desires of my heart.

As a young brat, I fought my mother each and every Sunday, refusing to attend church. There were times we would arrive at church, I would refuse to go in, and she would leave me in the car until the service was over. Why she didn't beat me, we'll never know. I'd like to see my future children try that one...it wouldn't go over well. I never felt a connection with our church and I sure didn't feel a connection to the snobby girls in Sunday School that never talked to me and left me sitting all alone. Slowly, I pushed church to the back of my mind. Thanks to DM for helping me find the church I needed. The church that allows people of all walks of life, all stages in the game - believers and seekers. For once, if I miss a Sunday, things are just not right that week.

I've always prayed, but not regularly. There is something about losing children that makes you a praying professional. I have prayed more deliberate prayers in the last year and a half than I have in the last 30 years. When the grief strikes me many times during the day, I have to remind myself to slow down, stop, breathe, and pray.

So, today on this National Day of Prayer, I pray for the health and safety of family and friends, my friend's children, and my sweet little kindergartners. I pray for the strength to keep going. The strength to not give up until I am holding my newborn baby or a baby I have chosen as my own. I pray for humility, wisdom and grace. I pray for comfort and patience. I pray for kindness and love. I pray for energy and serenity. I pray for gratitude. I pray for forgiveness...someday soon I will forgive myself for the loss of Kinsey and Ryan. I pray for so much more, but most importantly - I pray for peace.

I've learned I don't need to have my thoughts organized and coherent. They don't need to be elaborate or profound. I don't need to set aside a certain time or place. God listens and hears a sincere, "Amen," wherever I am. I know someday he will grant me the desires of my heart - even if I voice them from a snore.

Houston...We Have a Squash

2007-05-02T18:52:00.000-05:00

Just so you know...in real life it is half the size of my pinky.

May Resolutions

2007-04-28T23:43:00.000-05:00

1. I will quit sticking my foot in my mouth. I really have good intentions, but it seems the minute I step foot out of bed something strange happens to my mouth.
2. I will strengthen my legs so I can start running again. Yes, this one didn't happen in April.
3. I will take my prenatal vitamin daily like a good girl.
4. I will set a timer at the computer and then GET UP when it goes off. Seriously...I've got to get a handle on this nightly internet thing.
5. I will wake up at 6:00am. I am officially putting the alarm clock in the bathroom to force me out of bed.
6. I will eat a healthy breakfast.

Wanna place bets on #5? We all know the "Morning Melissa." I am directly setting myself up for failure.

Melissa + Randy = BFF

2007-04-28T16:46:00.000-05:00

I don't feel good, so this morning I was contemplating not attending the workshop on teaching writing I signed up for today. However, a phrase I remember from the book, Today Matters , "I will make and keep proper commitments" kept playing over and over in my clogged up/sore throat/allergy having head. Within 2 hours of arrival, I felt like I learned more than I had in a very long time. Randy, the presenter and author of several wonderful books about teaching, lit the spark again. He also confirmed what I am doing in my own personal life on a daily basis...writing.

Even though I write daily to model for my students, I've just recently started daily writing of my thoughts and emotions. Mostly to get it out of my head before it spontaneously combusts. I've struggled with being "okay" with the thoughts that I have, simply because a lot of times they are downright weird and not very pretty. However, every single person in this world has random, not pretty thoughts, and there is something great about being brave enough to get them out and, especially, to share them with others. Perhaps the most important thing he said today about writing was, "Reach back into your memory and accept what occurs to you." So, if I want to entertain the idea of writing about soap, cars, or Dr. Jerk, it's okay, because Randy said so...and he's my new BFF, you know.

I'm glad I kept my commitment today.

Baby-Making Update: My HCG was 12 and Progesterone was .5. I cannot take Provera until my HCG is 0. I will have my blood checked again on Friday and hopefully we can get this train on the right track!

There Are Some Things Money Can't Buy

2007-04-26T21:18:00.000-05:00

Progesterone levels below 3 to start Provera: $20 lab fee
Taking Provera for 10 days: $5
Starting a new cycle: $180
Clomid: $90
HSG test (hope for no scar tissue): $200
Checking for mature follicles: $300
Shot for ovulation: $90
Night of Love: FREE
More lab tests: $80
Positive Pregnancy Test: Happiness
More Lab tests: $80
Making it to 12 weeks: Sheer joy
Having a cerclage without complications: Sigh of relief
Defying an incompetent cervix and pre-term labor: Amen!
Having a healthy baby: Priceless

My Babe's genetic tests are normal. After consulting with Dr. V. today, we have decided to continue trying as we have in the past - no IVF for now. I will have my bloodwork done tomorrow to make sure my progesterone is below a level 3. If so, I will start Provera and we will be on the timeline again. I'm terrified.

Need Advice On How To Waste Time?

2007-04-24T17:16:00.000-05:00

Let me tell you...I'm the best at it. Lately, I've been reading My Babe's book, The Measure of a Man, by Sidney Poitier. In this autobiography, he talks about asking himself, "What am I doing with my time?" Of course, some of my problems would be solved if I would just drag myself out of bed a little earlier. However, I would still fill that extra time with something completely unbeneficial, I'm sure of it.

Yesterday, after leaving a meeting at 5pm, I proceed to go on a shopping spree that resulted in nothing but tears, frustration, and wasted time. This shopping spree was for the video we are filming in my classroom on Thursday. Four hours later, I was home with nothing to show for it but a ball of nerves and stress. Stress because the clothes I have pre-babies don't fit, but I have no baby to hold. Stress because the clothes I bought post-baby delivery do not fit anymore...mostly because my body becomes very pregnant very fast. Does any of that matter in the grand scheme of life? Does anyone really care if I wear the same pants and shirts over and over again? Does that justify wasting four hours on shopping that results in no purchase? Of course, the answer is obvious, but not to my brain. Instead, I missed my Body Flow class, my opportunity to walk Peanut, my chance to spend time reading my book, and my nightly rituals to unwind before sleep...the things that make for a good night's sleep and keep me from hurting others the next day.
My quest for a nice physical appearance earned me nothing but a foul mood and a lot of wasted time. Maybe I'll remember this again when I ask myself, "What am I doing with my time?"

Canyon of the Eagles

2007-04-22T18:46:00.000-05:00

Blessed

2007-04-19T21:10:00.000-05:00

There are very few people in the world that can truly say they thoroughly enjoy every minute spent in the company of their coworkers. When I was fortunate enough to be hired at FBE 8 years ago, it was pretty apparent the team I was entering into was nothing but the best. My team has seen me through a great abundance of challenges from marriage, death of my dad, loss of my hair (as funny as it seems now!), divorce, debt, remarriage, and 4 baby losses. Although our team has changed over the years, I have been blessed to be surrounded by a support system that I'm not sure I will ever find again in a work setting.

After our latest baby loss, my sweet team...and our 2 adopted team members (DC and MK)...gave us the most thoughtful gift we could receive - a weekend away from home. A weekend to forget the sadness, loss, stress, and worry. A weekend to reconnect and have fun. Today we are off to Canyon of the Eagles. Other than my team, very few people know how badly I need this. So, thank you from the depths of my heart. Thank you for putting up with the drama that continues to be my life. You are all my daily rock I lean very heavily on.