Busy, Busy...

And it feels good to be busy, busy. I got a call today that I'm very happy about and that will really help my healing. But, it kicked me into high gear to want to clean house. I hate to sound obscure but I will just say that one of my very best friends is going to come hang out for awhile and I bet it's going to be great. I am not brushing losing Collin under the rug but there are some people who just help you feel like your old self and I think this will be good for my healing and will help get me back to "normal" faster than last year. Last year it took me more than a month to leave the house, except for the hair cut drama and I just can't do that to my family again.

The other thing that is helping me feel like I can get back to "normal" a bit better is my physical healing this time is a million times easier. I lost so much blood when I delivered Eli that it probably took me a week or more before I could shower without feeling like I was going to pass out and then have to take a nap afterwards. Or feeling like I had run a marathon after carrying one load of laundry up from the basement. When you have a tough physical recovery, I think it makes the mental recovery even harder. I know that I will feel much better when my "chest" gets back to normal. Yes, my milk ended up coming in and that's frustrating and painful but I'm still hoping that it's doesn't end up as being as intense as it was with Eli.

I am finding myself going down the exact same roads (as far as the dealing process goes) that I did last year and Jim actually seems to be following me this time too. We are both ready to purge a lot of stuff from this house from attic to basement, get organized and stay organized. Of course the house isn't a total disaster area but there are a few places that we still need to work on. Closets, toy storage / purging, important paperwork vs. fire starter, the baby things, Christmas decorations and the list goes on and on. I haven't worked outside the home in over 5 years now and I highly doubt that I would wear any of my work clothes to work when/if I go back to work outside the home. Anyway, it's stuff like that. Not a big deal but will feel nice to have it donated. However, it's going to have to wait for about 2 weeks which is cool.

Again, I have to thank you all for your comments and emails. There are certainly some wonderful things that have been posted, emailed and said to me and I also truly believe that the support system that I have in place now deserves much of the credit for how I'm doing this time around. Thank you...

Day Two...

Day two greeted me with feeling, physically, not too bad. I still have some cramping of course and the location in the top of my hand, where they placed the IV, is bruised from the middle of my hand to my wrist. I think the extra sleep that I've been able to get has certainly helped. Thanks to the "great flood of '09", my mom "got" to stay here for longer than planned since she couldn't drive home yesterday which means, more sleep for me. So, that has been a little blessing whether (or should I say weather?) she thinks so or not.

The thing that I was dreading (amongst others of course) and hoping to avoid, seems to be happening anyway. It feels like my milk is starting to come in. Yes, another "fun" thing that you don't always hear about. Hopefully it won't be full force like it was after I delivered Eli but at least I know how to deal with it if it does. Limited fluids, Benadryl and no hot showers seem to be the biggest help. Only problem is the Benadryl makes me sleepy and showers are my only option right now and I hate cold showers. *Sigh* I'll figure something out. Thankfully, the phantom kicks and flutters have decreased a bit.

I did get out and get some fresh air today which was nice. Not too long, that's for sure but since it was finally dry, no snow, no rain, we decided to walk the property a bit. The kids loved getting out and though my ears got cold and I went at my own pace, it was a nice change from being cooped up.

The emotional healing process seems to be going as well as I could expect. I've been looking at a few pieces online where I could include both boys and I think, as soon as I decide exactly the wording I'm happy with, I'll order something. I've also started thinking about getting my body back in shape, when I get the ok, so I feel better about myself. I already know that it feels horrible carrying around extra emotional weight, I don't need any extra physical weight. As far as what the future holds, obviously, I have no idea.

A few "interesting" things from yesterday...

On our way to the hospital, we drove directly under a huge bright rainbow and on the way home, under a double rainbow. I try not to read too much into things or look extra hard for 'signs' but that one was impossible to ignore.

As I was checking into the Short Stay Unit, the Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor, who we just saw last week and told us everything was perfect, walked past and took a double take when we made eye contact. After telling my mom this, she said that his office had called the house about 45 minutes later "with my numbers". Mom explained the situation and the nurse said that I can call at any time, without a referral, and they will get me in for more testing, talking, discussing etc. I still need to decide if I will take them up on it but I might and it feels good? that there is another door that has opened.

We did choose to have pathology reports run again on Collin. Though I don't have a whole lot of hope for answers, I also know that I wouldn't get them if I didn't ask. So, this at least gives us an opportunity to see if they can find anything. But, considering he was "perfect" they day before his heart stopped, I'm not holding my breath.

I can tell that I'm still kind of going through the motions and that things will continue to hit me in waves but, at least I'm prepared for it. It's harder when you have a bunch of time and don't know which direction you want to go. But I have the time so I need to decide what to do with it.

Done...

I feel empty.

Everything went as was planned which is a blessing.
Physically, I'm much better than with Eli's delivery but still very tired.

Now, starts the healing, again.

The Reality of It...

It's starting to sink in.... the reality of the fact that in 24 hours (if all goes as planned) I'll be being wheeled through the doors of the operating room. I will be back at ground zero starting all over again. I don't even know what that totally means yet. I do know it means that there will be a healing process physically and hopefully it is easier on me than it was with Eli's delivery and subsequent d&c. Emotionally, I kind of know what I'm in for again. It is different every time though. But beyond that, I don't know. After Eli, I knew that I was going to be able to focus on trying again but I don't know. I can't tell if it's like the burn from a long run that we just need to push forward through and it'll get better or if I'm just pushing against a brick wall that will never fall.

I'm at quite a loss for what to do today. One of my friends told me, in the most loving of ways because she's been here before, to try to find some peace today in my last hours with Collin. I lost it. I have been so focused on trying to get everything in place and ready for a few lazy days, focused on making sure the kids have no idea what's going on, focused on pretty much avoiding it as much as possible that she's right. I need to be thankful for the time that I was given, no matter how short. It's really hard not to be upset about it though.

Stupid, broken world, this isn't fair.

I'm actually waiting around so I can call the pre-op registration nurse back with my health history. They are good about having all their ducks in a row but it just feels like one more nail in the coffin, to use a very tasteless analogy. I'd rather be napping. My body feels just like it did a week ago, still tired, still have foods that sound or taste better than others, still have to pee all the time and sore boobies. Lucky me. But, all proof that I don't think my body would have caught on for quite a long time and I know that I can't put myself through that on top of everything else.

My body finally wants to have babies but they all seem to have broken hearts - must get that from their mommy...

47...

I realized, while doing dishes this morning, that I have been pregnant for forty-seven weeks since Rylan was born. That seems like an incredibly long time to me. I also realized that from those forty-seven weeks, I didn't have a single belly picture. How sad.



After we lost Eli, I was going through my camera and as I came across the belly photos that I had taken with him, in a knee-jerk reaction of grief, I deleted them. That is the thing about digital - once it's gone, it's gone. In the days of film, I would have had a negative for when I came to my senses. However, there are other things that I have from Eli's pregnancy that I won't have from Collin's. I video taped Eli's heart beat on the doppler, we have actual photos of him, foot castings, foot prints... his ashes.



I won't have any of that with Collin.



I figured I had plenty of time to video his doppler readings. I didn't. I knew who we would use for a small session of maternity photos. We won't be scheduling that session. There will be no actual photos. Thankfully, I do have the pictures from our NT scan on the 31st. It's very therapeutic to have tangible items that remind me of my pregnancies. I guess it helps validate the fact that yes, there was a tiny person who we gave life to. I also realized that there's no reason that I couldn't take a belly photo now - I look the same as I did a week ago - and I can't go back and do it next week if I change my mind. So, while the kids were napping and Jim was at work, I did...


I am lucky to have the husband that I do. Looking at the photo you can probably see why I was glad that I found my old, new maternity clothes a few weeks ago. Anyway, I just can not bring myself to wear maternity clothes to the D&C on Thursday. Jim scoured the mall last night until he found a jog suit, a size up from normal, that I could wear and lounge around in. I had considered squeezing into the one pair of jeans that I can still, sort of, wear but then we remembered about the IV's that they hook you up to and realized that it would be an even more uncomfortable trip home. The extra fluid makes you pretty puffy. He also bought me new socks because it's the little things like that that make the situation a little bit more comfortable and every little bit helps.

Starting the Process All Over Again...

But it's different this time.

After we lost Eli I was so incredibly sad, understandably. It was a shot to the gut after I thought he was such a blessing since we were able to conceive him on our own and thought he was just meant to be with us. But now, after losing Collin, I'm finding myself very angry. Not AT any one or any particular thing just angry. I don't know if it's because I'm just moving through the grief process faster this time since I can't even remove the events of the last 11 months from each other. Maybe I'm angry at myself for letting my guard down and thinking that there's no way that I would continue to move further and further into that one tenth of one percent or whatever minuscule probability it is that I would experience a loss like this again. Let's not forget that the perinatalogist told me that there's no greater chance for me to lose another pregnancy than the next person... oh, two losses ago?

On the other hand I can eat a hot dog and drink a coke without the guilt of what it's going to potentially do to my baby. Hips? another story. Or I can take a super hot bath, use zit creme, go tanning or whiten my teeth.

I'd rather have my baby.

It's not up to me though. I did everything "right". I took my prenatal, my 81 mg of Aspirin and my DHA supplement every night. I could tell that Dr. B was quite taken aback by the situation. He just looked at me and said "why does this keep happening?" He reviewed my NT scan before I got there for my appointment and I think he fully thought that I was going to have a baby in there who had just been playing peek-a-boo.

Oh, how I wish.

He kept reminding me of Karleigh and Rylan and how that does give him hope for live birth number three, but do I want to go there? Time does ease the pain but it does not heal it. At least it hasn't for me yet. And unless none of us has noticed, neither of us is getting any younger. And where? where do I set my limit? I have dealt with infertility and as so very hard as that is I have a hard time understanding why I would continue to be blessed with pregnancies but no baby in the end. Stupid me thought it would actually end happily this time and it made my skin crawl every time someone said "if" this baby comes home, or makes it, or this pregnancy works out. I admit that I thought in those terms too at times though. And that makes me angry too. What gave me the right to think anything other than the best for this pregnancy?

It's a process to start all over again. I find myself "blogging in my head" a lot again. Not talking to myself like a crazy woman (yet) just thinking through things nearly constantly. I have a woman's brain that never rests anyway, and that's when there's nothing all that interesting going on. So you can imagine the noise between my ears now. I'm sure I'll be blogging more frequently again since that does help this process, to get it down in black and white (so to speak) and get it out of my head so other, hopefully more healing thoughts can filter in.

It is Set...

Thursday at 11 am. I will check into the hospital and hungrily wait for two hours until 1 pm when my d&c is scheduled. After much thought and wrestling, I think this is the route to go this time. After talking with Dr. B, I feel a bit better about it. It's not new territory to me, it will be my third, so I know what to expect. There's the benefit of knowing when things will be resolved and recovery isn't even all that bad. So, that's the plan. Is there a part of me that has a bit of a problem with knowing what really happens on that operating table? Oh yah, but I'm coming to terms with it and accepting that that's how it's going to be.

We talked about the other options, waiting it out or helping it along either at home or in the hospital and both of those options came back with a high probability of needing a d&c anyway so I might as well just cut to the chase. Plus, there's a part of me that would feel kind of stupid lying in the birth center to miscarry a 13 week baby even though I know it shouldn't be about my pride. It was exhausting and it still took a long time with Eli. Waiting it out has, in the past, not worked for me and I am having no cramping or spotting at all at this point so it's not like we'd just be giving things a boost, we'd be trying to start something from scratch. He said that he only gave inducing a miscarriage, about a 50% chance of working. In the general population it's closer to 75% - 80% but he also said, clearly, I'm not like the general population.

On the upside, the nasty receptionist was not there when I checked in for my appointment so I didn't have to deal with that. I told Dr. B that she had spoken to me the same exact way when I called that Monday morning in February about Eli and that every time I speak with her it's like a confrontation. I also told him that I'm not the only one with this complaint as my girlfriend, who I just referred to them, asked me if the front desk staff was always so nasty. Needless to say, he clearly thought that was unacceptable behavior (you think?) and thanked me for letting him know because he doesn't know if no one says anything.

So, that's where things stand now. I have to wait for a few more days for resolution to this but I have, at least, made the decision and there's enough time that my mom can get a sub set up so she can be here with the kids and Jim can rearrange his schedule so he can be with me. Poor guy gets bored with all that waiting though at least he gets to eat.

I do have to say that I feel a lot better knowing which solution we have chosen. So much of the anxiety comes from the unknown.