News

We're Pregnant Again!

 

Happenings

I can't come up with a better post title...

Nothing much has been going on for me lately. I have been basking in the enjoyment of having quiet days at home and reading. I have also been delighting in Netflix and a couple current shows that I follow online. My current favorite is "Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo". I can't help myself...

At the first glance, that family seems like a capsulized version of everything wrong with America today. However, it sucks you in. The best part of it is definitely Mama- her version of self-awareness coupled with her complete lack of shame make for great TV. It feels okay to laugh at the things she does and says (at least the ones that are funny...) because she is obviously in on the joke. The producers want us to think she's just a run-of-the-mill hilljack, but she is one smart cookie in my opinion. Lady can hustle.

We have another class to take at the adoption agency tomorrow. It's been a year since we took the course on behavior modification, so we are taking it again. I really, really hope we can get all the i's and t's dotted and crossed soon. I'm having a moment where all I want is to hold a baby. Preferably my own.

It's one week until my precious niece gets married! I am so excited for her, and I think the lucky guy is awesome. He seems like a very fun, kind, salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. They are perfect for each other.

Not long ago I got together with my sisters, my older nieces, and a friend for a body-wrap party. I had a great time, but the best part was spending time with family. I was amazed upon reflection at just how full of love my heart felt for them. I was all warm and squishy inside. Going home later that evening was hard- I just wanted to stay cuddled up with them, talking and soaking in their presence all night. It will be really hard when my niece moves away after she's married. I will miss her.

Contentment?

David and I were talking late into the night a couple of nights ago. Sometimes it's like you can be near to one another and yet so far, and then suddenly look over and think, "oh yeah, it's you! I like you!" And then you talk and talk and talk, like slaking a thirst after wandering the desert. I love talking to him.

Anyway, we were talking about life, and children. We heard from our adoption agency caseworker last Friday with a couple of last-minute questions. She is working on gathering our file. We contacted her about three days or so after losing the baby, and let her know that we wanted to take our file off the shelf and get back into it. It was a month of blowing hot and cold with us for her. We got into contact with her in early June to let her know we wanted to go ahead and finish the licensing process. Then we were sucked into a whirlwind of activity, getting the house ready, getting inspections done, and then doing the homestudy. Five days after doing the homestudy, we found out we were pregnant. I called her the next day and told her our news, and let her know that we wanted to hold off on adopting until the baby was born and settled in. Then, two weeks later, we found out we lost the baby. Three days after that we contacted the caseworker and let her know what happened, and that we wanted back in.

At the time we contacted her to get going again, I wasn't sure I was ready to think about other children yet, as I was still mourning the death of my Tristan. Thankfully I was seeing a counselor who encouraged me to go ahead and prepare to go forward with the adoption, encouraging me that my feelings would change. She knows me well, and knows just how long David and I have wanted a family. At about 9 days out from learning I would miscarry, I was ready to start thinking about adopting and/or getting pregnant again. I am glad that we contacted our caseworker when we did because we were moved to the end of her docket, and it has taken her 3 weeks or so to get back to us. And I am definitely ready now to proceed.

So, back to my original comment- David and I were talking about life. He said that he liked our life right now. Not so much that he wants it to stay this way forever- he definitely wants all the hubbub and chaos a baby will bring, on top of the love, cuddles and cuteness. But, he said he was enjoying it for right now. He feels contentment. I feel more like I'm waiting. There's not really anything left for us to do in reaching our goals at the moment. Pregnancy and adoption are all in the hands of others at the moment. Pregnancy is in the hands of God, and adoption is too, but its also more immediately in the hands of the system and our agency. Hopefully it won't be too much longer before we can start reviewing cases and applying in specific cases to adopt.

Rutabagas

When I was little, my dad and slightly older sister used to play a game. One would start:
"You're driving me nuts!"
Then the other would respond, "You're driving me ________________ (name of vegetable/fruit/legume/etc)!"
And it could go on a loooooong tiiiiime. "You're driving me coconuts!" "You're driving me turnips!" "You're driving me cashews!"

The penultimate response, though, which my dad always graciously left to my sister, was "You're driving me RUTABAGAS!"

My dad thought it was hilarious. C was only two or so the first time she responded with this, and it was their special game forever after. Or at least it was for a while, then graduated into the category of "cute family baby story that gets told over and over ad nauseum". But my dad never stopped finding it funny.

I have never tried a rutabaga before. I always assumed they were mythical vegetables that were the quintessential "for display only" items in the supermarket whenever anyone did find some. It never occurred to me that anyone would actually consider eating them, much less enjoy doing so.

My views have changed.

I bought a nice, big, beautiful rutabaga for the first time on Wednesday.  I have been stalking rutabaga recipes on pinterest for the last week, determined to try making them in something, and even more determined to actually like them when I did so.

My first, ill-fated attempt on Wednesday was to put them in a (very expensive) lamb roast. In the crockpot. I assumed it would smell and taste delicious. I have always liked lamb very much when I have ordered it in restaurants, as well as the handful of times that my wonderful hubs has grilled it here at home. I have found that there is a way to prepare it that I do not like. And that is to roast it in a crockpot. So that the whole house will be permeated with the stink of boiling lamb. I did my best to just eat it anyway, but it was just too much. It made me feel like gagging. And don't even ask about the rutabaga in there with it. I think it might not have been as disgusting if I hadn't absolutely decked it out ornament-on-a-Christmas-tree style in fresh rosemary. The rosemary in double portion does not equal double good.

So, I burned several candles, strained the broth out, set the vegetables aside for David to eat later (he thought they were okay, and more power to him), and then rinsed the stewed lamb of all the last vestiges of its rosemary decorations and put it in the fridge to try and revamp later. Last night I resurrected it in the form of a Persian stew over rice with turmeric, garlic, and curry, and it wasn't too bad. All the crockpot action, though, had me craving a real roast, and my determination over the rutabagas was begging me to try them again in a recipe that I already knew we loved.

So, tonight I tried again. We dug a beef roast out of the freezer from our store of beef from David's PawPaw. PawPaw is a real gem- every year he buys three or four calves, turns them out to pasture for a year, and then butchers them and divides the meat amongst his children and grandchildren. So, each year we get about 50-60 pounds of beautiful, organic, delicious beef cuts (ground meat, sirloin steaks, ribeye steaks, roasts, etc.)

After it defrosted overnight last night I dressed it up with some beef boullion, garlic, and salt and stuck it in the crockpot this morning. After taking David to work, I went by the store and bought about 4 pounds of baby carrots and two medium rutabagas. I was tempted by the leeks, but they did me wrong in the lamb roast two days prior, and I haven't forgiven them yet. Anyway, I brought home my root vegetables, cut them up, and added them to the pot.

After about 7 hours in the pot, it was finally time to give them a second go for a taste test. And they were DELICIOUS! I was impressed at how succulent they were, and how well they absorbed the flavor of the roast. They have a texture very similar to a potato, but don't have the same amount of starch and carbs as potatoes. I think I am hooked. Oh, and David loved them too.

New Computer!

I'm typing my first post on my awesome new PINK computer. And yes I customized all color settings on the background and windows to be color-coordinated. It is SO AWESOME.

And now I'm a little depressed because my awesome new computer is here, just as I'm at a good part in a good, old-fashioned fantasy novel- and all I want to do is read. Instead of playing with my NEW PINK COMPUTER. I also have a new pink wireless mouse, a new pink laptop bag/briefcase, and will soon be getting a new white laptop stand via UPS. It's all color-coordinated.

The trials of the wealthy....

I think I am a little bit spoiled. At least David can now gleefully remove all traces of my meddling on his computer. He took delight in telling it to forget my passwords on our shared sites, like facebook. Because it is now, once again, only his. And I am never to touch it again. Lol. At least I have my Pinky. And yes, my computer's name is only in response to him naming his computer "Bluey". I have never named my computer before. And I giggle a little bit sometimes about the name of his. Mostly because he named it in reference to it's color, but in my mind it sounds like a prediction: one day it will go "ka-BLOOEY".

But, mine's name is Pinky. Bringing to mind one of the best tv quotes ever: "So what are we doing tonight, Brain? The same thing we do every night, Pinky. TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!"

Sleepless

Yesterday was our seventh anniversary! David let me order myself a fab present- the coveted pink laptop. I guess he finally got tired of me poaching his... I was so excited about it last night that I couldn't sleep. It is supposed to get here tomorrow! I literally couldn't. sleep. At about 4:30 in the morning, as I was laying in the dark, vacillating back and forth between pestering David and tossing and turning, I decided to just throw in the towel and read a book. At 5:15, it occurred to me that if I put a loaf of bread in the breadmaker, it would be done just in time for David's breakfast. And homemade bread is one of his favorites, plus it was weighing on my conscience that I hadn't done anything else for him to celebrate our anniversary. And when I asked him what I could do for him special for our anniversary earlier as we were initially going to bed, his response of "Wash me some underwear..." just didn't seem a big enough gesture. So, a surprise loaf of homemade bread it was. (And yes, I also threw in a load of underwear this evening.)

The light from my reading lamp confused David when he stirred a little at 6:15, so even though I still wasn't sleepy I turned it off so he would go back to his dreaming. After rubbing his head like a worry-stone for thirty minutes or so, I finally fell asleep too. And then jumped out of bed when the alarm went off at 8:30 to check on the bread and finish cooking breakfast. It was delicious, and I even cut him a couple slices and made a pb+j sandwich for lunch at work.

As far as everything else goes, things have pretty much returned to normal around here. It's still a little jarring seeing people that I haven't seen since before losing the baby. A lady at church approached David this last Sunday, saying she knew how embarrassing it is to be around people after announcing an "imaginary pregnancy", and she hoped I felt better soon. I'm not embarrassed, because my baby wasn't imaginary. But it's comments like that that make me feel like continuing to hide and keep my head buried at home.

So, things are progressing. And each day I feel better and things feel more normal. And my hubs is always wonderful.

Tristan

Did I wish him gone?

The night that I found out I was pregnant was a little bit dream-like. I felt like it was completely unreal, like I was moving through a mist. I was so happy, yet shocked.

That night, as I was falling asleep, I suddenly felt overwhelmed. I felt panicked. It dawned on me that living, moving, growing within was a small body of a small person- a being completely other from myself. He did not have the same thoughts about the world as me. He did not have the same feelings about life as me. The sensation of his toes in the water around him was different than my sensation of having my feet in water. He was my child, and yet he was Other. His experience and perception were completely out of my control. And his ultimate destination, with all the pitfalls, losses, and mistakes in between, were out of my hands.

I felt completely exposed. And I had no way to cover my exposure. My child was and is completely and forevermore in the hands of God. While he was on Earth, I had to accept that the gossamer wisp of his soul, his essence, and the turning of his heart, were not my domain.

I was so, so scared that one day I would look at him and my heart would be broken. That he would decide to doggedly pursue a path not to my liking. That he would cast his fate into the hands of evil men, and turn away from me. Or not even do anything bad, but just close himself off from me- keep me at arms length.

I had a moment where I was scared to death of the worst, and I wished I hadn't even started down this road at all. I wished that I had just been content to live my life with just me, my husband, and my pets.

A dozen days later, I was in more pain than I have ever been in my entire life. I described it before. I felt like my gut was going to explode from the pressure and cramping. I thought that I would feel that way for many more months to come. And I had a moment where I didn't blame others for wanting an abortion. I was horrified with myself at that moment, the hours following, and even now. For a moment's time, I just wanted it to end, and I didn't care what happened to the baby at the center of the storm. This still haunts me. It was another moment that I wished him gone.

The next morning, when I got the call from the doctor, that the baby wasn't going to make it, I felt relief. My third strike. Then, instead of hearing the lesser cry of an animal, I heard the heart of my husband break. And I wept.

I was given a precious, priceless gift- and I was a swine with pearls of great price.

Mommy is sorry, Tristan. I hope you know how much I really wanted you, and will forgive me for my moments of weakness.

Happenings

Today I got a call from the doctor's office. Again. I'm starting to think they've programmed my number on speed dial.

I had a D&C on Tuesday, and everything went well. They were going to look at what they took out and see if they saw any evidence of a placenta, which would rule out an ectopic pregnancy. They called this morning to tell me that there was no placental material found, and they wanted me to come in for another ultrasound to check for an ectopic pregnancy. Thankfully, they didn't find anything. It's like my baby vanished into thin air. Everything looked nice and normal, though, on the ultrasound, so that was good news.

The D&C wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Everyone was super nice and accommodating. I remember once they gave me the drugs to put me out and they started creeping into my system I became determined to give a heartfelt thanks to everyone taking care of me. The last thing I remember thinking as I fell asleep was regret that there was a nurse that appeared in my line of vision who I didn't thank. Hey, at least I didn't slur out a speech about undying love... at least I hope I didn't.

When I woke up, I recovered pretty quickly, and felt okay. I didn't get super-nauseous or anything, only a little. The meds they shot into my IV took care of it really quick, too. I had a super awesome, very restful nap during the procedure, and I was so thankful for it when I woke up.

Since coming home, I have had plenty of Vicodin, and plenty of naps. I was really only in significant pain that first night.  I had a few cramps that night, and some sharp, stabbing pains in my abdomen. I talked to my doctor that night, and he told me to just take an extra vicodin. Since then, I haven't felt too bad.

Ships in the Night

Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing, 

only a signal shown, and a distant voice in the darkness; 

So on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another, only a look and a voice, 

then darkness again and a silence.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I have been thinking a lot about what exactly to say.  There is so much I want to say, but only so many words that might possibly express what's in my heart.

My joy has turned to sorrow, and my good news to bitter tidings. 

We found out on July 7, 2012 that I was pregnant. We were ecstatic, and completely over the moon, and most of all, shocked. I had been pretty certain that I was not pregnant.  We have been doing our best to overcome fertility issues the last two years, and this last cycle gave me no reason to think anything special would happen. 

Then, I started noticing little things. I was so, so tired all the time.  I needed to take a nap each evening. And, I suddenly lost all tolerance for spicy foods.  All I wanted to eat was healthy-ish stuff. I got urges to cook things like cabbage, brussel sprouts, peppers and onions, etc. And I couldn't take the smell or taste of cinnamon. These little things added up, and I finally gave in to my curiosity and took a pregnancy test. It was POSITIVE! And then I took another, and another, and finally accepted the idea that I was really pregnant!

I took the first test on a Saturday, and went in to see the doctor on Monday. They did another urine test, and got another positive result. We did blood work, and got even more confirmation. We announced our pregnancy at church and in our church small groups, and did a whole lot of celebrating.

We went down to visit David's parents to tell them the news. They were so, so excited that David's dad went to the store early the next morning and bought gifts for the baby. The started referring to themselves as Grandpa and Nana. We all went shopping together at a baby boutique in their little town's town square. That morning I had woken up with some light cramping and a little brown spotting, but I read in my pregnancy book that this was most likely normal, so we didn't worry about it. I was having a lot of gas pain and bloating, but I took this as a good sign because they say the sicker you are, the better news it is for the pregnancy.

The following Wednesday, we went for our first sonogram.  My mom came with us. This was her seventh grandchild, and the first time she would get to see an ultrasound of a grandchild in person. She was giddy, and so were we. We went in to the little room, I got ready, and then the doctor finally came in. They took a look inside, and got quiet. He told us that he couldn't see anything yet, so come back in a week and maybe we would be able to see something then. He and the nurse went back and forth about how far along I was, and whether there was any possibility that the baby might not be as old as they thought. I felt a little worried, but I figured that it would all be okay. I was still spotting a little, but that was normal, right? The doctor said that in the meantime we could do some more bloodwork. We went down to the lab, I gave some blood, and we were on our way.

That night the gas pain and pressure was terrible. I felt like my abdomen was going to explode. All I could do was lay in bed to get a little relief. I was way more worried and sorry for myself than I was for the baby. I had moments where I saw it as this little devil inside me, blowing up balloons in my gut then tying it in knots so none of the air could get out. Then kicking it. I was hurting pretty bad.

Early the next morning I received a call from one of the nurses at the doctor's office.  They said that the results were back on the blood test, and they weren't good.  It wasn't a good pregnancy. The baby was not developing, and I was going to miscarry. At first I felt relieved because I was so tired of the pain. Then I felt numb. I told David. He looked shocked and pale. Then he went to take a shower and I heard him sob a couple times. At that point it hit me: I lost my baby. I would never get to hold him, comfort him, feed him, or count his little fingers and toes. I would not be able to remark about how much he looked like his daddy. I would not get to see his wispy blonde hair flutter as I push him on a swing in the park. I would not get to fret over baby gas and midnight feedings. I was carrying him in my body still, but this was all the time I would get with him. God took him from me.

I have been in to see the doctor every business day since then. That first day I cried off and on all day. Each day has gotten a little better since then. Today I went in to see the doctor again, and scheduled a D&C for tomorrow. I thought that I wanted to just let the pregnancy pass naturally, but I was calling to myself a world of pain that I haven't got the ability to handle. The bleeding started last night, and the cramping is terrible. They said that the pain, cramping, and miscarriage process could last up to 6 weeks. I read an account online of a woman who took 6 months to finish expelling everything. I grieve with each cramp, and am dreading seeing any part of the pregnancy come out. So, I gladly accepted an appointment for a D&C when it came up today, and I will be relieved to have it over in one fell swoop. Then I can recover, and maybe eventually we will get another chance.

Each day the pain gets a little less, but I will never forget. I will never forget my precious little one, waiting for me in Heaven. He is with God, and is now like an angel. I know he is praying for me, and enjoying Jesus until I can be there to hold him myself.

His name is Tristan. The name came to me on the way to the hospital on Thursday, as I was contemplating his death. I couldn't share my name suggestion until later that night, because of the eminent threat of hysterics lurking at the edge of my control.  I have a fear of beginning to cry when I am feeling sorrow or pain. I have a hidden terror that it will take me over, and I will never be able to stop. That I will die under the weight of it.

After discussing it with David later that day, we decided that Tristan was a wonderful name. His middle name is Honor. Tristan means "sounds of battle; clash of swords". It fits him because as soon as I heard the news I knew he was in Heaven, fighting for God as a mighty warrior- the first of his daddy's arrows against the powers of darkness (Psalm 127). He is my little champion, and it is an honor to carry him.

Now, I hold the pain in my heart, as well as in my body at this point. It is my evidence, and validation. I have a child. He exists. He has a name, and he had a body. I only got to have a small taste of motherhood, but it was real. He is an intimate stranger, my little one. I never got to know his thoughts and feelings about anything, and yet he knew me from the inside out. 

I said this to a dear friend earlier, and it's too good not to record here:

Sometimes I see a woman trudging along with an obvious bump, holding her precious cargo, her gift and blessing. I wonder if she knows how blessed she is. I feel my loss, and I wonder if she knows how much people like me would love to trade places with her. How much some of us wish we could have felt the aches and pains of our baby stretching, growing, and moving inside of us. How some of us don't get to be miserable the way she is because God takes our babies and gives us a different pain, a pain that will never, never go away. It may diminish and fade, but it will always be there in some part, to some extent. 

My firstborn will not walk with me, because he is already walking with God.

Happenings

I haven't forgotten about my blog- there has just been so much going on lately! And there have been a lot of good things happen for us and others, and I'm not free to share just yet... So wish I could!

Everything is going really well. We harvested our second tomato from our very expensive patio-variety tomato plants yesterday. The first tomato that we might have harvested got eaten by a pesky squirrel.  I no longer feel sad when I see a dead one on the side of the road... Okay, maybe I still do a little. But it's kindred shouldn't have eaten my Tomato!

I've still been enjoying my coffee.  I love hazelnut creamer! I've switched to half-caf and started drinking more water in an effort to be healthier.  I've been doing other things to be healthier also.  I saw someone's post on facebook that said conventionally grown strawberries are covered in pesticides so toxic while they're growing, that people aren't allowed in the fields for fear of poisoning. So, I was a little freaked out about that, and now I have committed to only eating organic strawberries.  If you've never looked into it, just google "Dirty Dozen produce". I've also been making an effort to only eat organic meat/ animal products, since I don't want to exacerbate my existing hormonal issues with the hormones found in abundance in conventionally raised livestock. This isn't too hard for me, though, because we have a plentiful supply of beef from David's PawPaw, who gives us some of his free-range pasture-fed beef/ steaks each year.  Every year PawPaw buys five or so calves and then turns them out into a back pasture. Then, about a year later, he slaughters them and distributes meat amongst all his kids and grandkids.  I am very thankful for his generous heart. And the fact that he passed his generous spirit on to his daughter, who taught it to her son, whom I married and enjoy.

Also, I have a little confession... I am addicted to my Amazon.com wishlist.  I can waste soooo much time adding things to it and salivating over what I want to buy from it. There are almost 1200 things on my wishlist right now. Yikes! I would say I am greedy, but most of it is books- and can one ever have too many books? I thought not. Also, I don't have much intention of buying for myself the majority of what's on my list. I do enjoy looking at it all though. I know, I'm baaaaaad....