Had a trip to the ER tonight. The cramps got up to one every minute at one point, so the nurse had me go in. So, at 19 weeks I'm already having Braxton-Hicks contractions. I guess my uterus is practicing for the Big Dance. They gave me a prescription to stop them and told me to drink 100 oz of water a day. Is that even possible?! I'm supposed to relax and check in with my nurse tomorrow.

The baby is too small to hook up to a fetal monitor, but it had a strong heartbeat. He sure was kicking a lot. The doctor was warning me about pre-term labor and how the baby isn't "viable" enough for delivery yet. She was preaching to me about relaxing and the harmful effects of stress. I was all, "Lady, I am totally chill. I got no worries." I will totally relax right after I clean up the dinner dishes, put away the laundry that's on the bed, take out the trash, wrangle the kid into her jammies, brush her teeth and put her back to bed 15 times. Then, I will totally put my feet up.

My after-care instructions actually said, "Don't lift anything; have someone else take care of household chores and cook for you." I had to laugh. I'm such a martyr, right?

I just want to say "thank you" to everyone that is offering assistance and kind thoughts. Seriously, I can't tell you how much it means to me. Unfortunately, I have no positive news to report on the home front...he just doesn't want to come back.

I've been desperately searching for a job and I have a couple options, neither of them what I was hoping for. I could take one job that pays barely over minimum wage and an unpredictable schedule, but has health care benefits and the possibility of promotion. Or, I could take another job that pays several dollars an hour more (still far less than my previous job), but does not have benefits (which I will need) and has no possibility of promotion, but would be working for a very nice lady that is sympathetic to my situation. Both jobs require a lot of time on my feet and daily lifting of large boxes, so that should be exciting.

By the time I pay for child care, I will be bringing home practically nothing. I applied for discounted child care, which I may qualify for, but only if I take the lower paying job...the one that would make child care difficult by its ever-changing schedule. With the temporary child support/spousal support I'm getting, I don't qualify for food assistance. Neither of these jobs will pay the bills that will allow me to keep the house or the minivan. Since I'm pretty sure I owe more on both those loans than they are worth, I'm not sure where that leaves me. Oh, I know...completely stressed out.

I've been able to disguise my belly pretty well until last week. All of sudden, it was just OUT there. I'd felt a couple flutters here and there, but I was too busy to really pay much attention. Friday night, he felt the need to really make his presence felt, by hosting a rave at 11 pm. It actually felt kind of frantic, which freaked me out, but it calmed down after about 30 minutes. I've definitely been able to identify his movements since then. However, Saturday, I started having tightening that felt like the Braxton Hicks contractions that I had with the Munchkin. Obviously, it is way too early for that to be normal, so when they didn't go away, I called the doctor Sunday night. I drank a TON of water, as directed, but they've still been happening. On Monday, the nurse reiterated that I need to be drinking at least 64 oz of water a day or I'll get dehydrated. I had no problem doing that at my desk job with Munchkin, but I'm kind of busy right now, so I haven't spent much time thinking about my water intake. My aunt told me that she went into premature labor when she got dehydrated, so I made sure to drink it today, but I still have the cramping, so I don't know what the problem is.

I keep thinking of that scene in "Reality Bites" where the newspaper editor asks Wynona Ryder's character to define "irony". We tried unsuccessfully for a year and a half to have a healthy pregnancy. I have one now, but I'm so busy being a single parent that I can't enjoy it. In fact, can barely think about it. That's irony.

Since I've announced the gender of the baby, I've been getting a lot of questions. I don't mind the questions at all, but the answers make me sad.

FAQ:

1. Do you have a name picked out?----No. I'm still thinking about using Isabella. The Munchkin likes Herman and Santa Baby.

2. Are you registered?----No. I don't even remember what a baby needs. With the Munchkin, we had the nursery oufitted and ready by month 3. I had every intention of having the nursery ready by now, but as previously discussed, there are more pressing issues, like where we will be living. All the baby clothes I have are pink and I'm totally okay with him wearing that. It will give him something to talk about in therapy when he's older.

3. Do you need anything?---Yes. A good paying job with benefits that will allow me to sit during my high-risk pregnancy. Affordable child care at a quality, licensed facility center. A miracle that will allow me to raise my children in this house. An angel that will magically save me from the insanity that will likely ensue when the newborn is screaming for no reason at 3 am and I am so tired that I don't know my name and my 4 year old can't sleep through the racket and I have to get up in 2 hours to get them dressed and ready for work. Because how am I going to be able to afford to take any maternity leave?!

Sorry...I'm having a pity party. I try to think about how much worse it could be, but I don't get very far sometimes.

Boy, oh Boy

Baby is 17 weeks today...My appointment on Monday went fine. I heard the heartbeat, which sounded very strong. Today, I had a Level 2 sonogram at the perinatologist. Baby looks great, right on schedule, weighs 6 oz. and...IT'S A BOY!!! (I have no clue what to do with a boy.)

So, my husband came by last night. We were able to talk about some next steps and we didn't even argue. It was nice to have normal-ish conversations about family and such.

I invited him to come to today's sonogram. I brought the Munchkin, as well, so she was excited to "see" the baby. He was absolutely thrilled to find out that it was a boy. It was nice to share a happy moment as a family. I asked (again) if he would come home and work things out. I told him that I missed him and he said that he missed me, too, but he just wasn't sure about coming back.

And so, here is my public plea to him...PLEASE come home. I know we can fix this. I am completely committed to doing everything I can to save this marriage. Come be a part of a lovely family of four. Without your constant supervision, this baby may end up wearing pink tutus and carrying sparkly wands. Please, please, please come home. We miss you.

I can't even give the baby much thought any more. All of my joy is packed away now. I'll still be cautious and avoid caffeine and all that, but I can't sit and dream or plan anymore. If I think too much about raising a newborn and a preschooler by myself, I start to panic. The Munchkin is still thrilled, of course. She asks about the baby constantly and talks about what she'll teach it and what a great big sister she's going to be. She pats my belly and talks to it. Ironic that the baby "we" wanted so dearly is finally coming, but I'll be raising it alone.

Pretty much the worst dayS ever

I feel sick. Last fall, when I was curled up in bed begging for the pain to end, I never would have guessed that just a year later, I'd be going through a different Hell and that it could get much, much worse. But, after 3 miscarriages and losing my job, I should have figured that the world wasn't done kicking me.

Last night, I had to have a horrible conversation with my not-quite four-year-old daughter. I'd been avoiding it for the past week, but it finally had to be done. She suddenly asked, "Why is it taking Daddy so long to come home?" And I had to sit her down and explain that her daddy no longer lived with us. And I had to watch as her world came crashing down and she wailed, "He doesn't live here? WHY?" I struggled for words to explain that it had nothing to do with her, but that her daddy no longer wanted to be with her mommy, to which she let out another wail of disbelief. Then, I held her as she sobbed, "But I need a daddy!!" I tried to explain that he would still be her daddy and she would still get to see him, but she wouldn't be consoled. After several minutes of crying, she sniffled, "Well, I guess I won't have a daddy. I guess I'll just have a mommy." Then, she needed to be held for a long time. Some time later, she looked up at me and asked, "He's never coming back?"

Today, we were curled up on the couch and she said, "Maybe when the wishing star comes out, I can wish for a Daddy."

I don't even have any words for those moments that break my heart. Infinite sadness and anger. I just can't express how unfair this situation is to this beautiful, intelligent, spirited, light of my life. She is losing so much in this. Her father, her cat, her safe and happy home, her friends, her neighbors, her teachers and school...things that every child needs. Now, she'll be uprooted, taken out of the only home she's ever known, transplanted to a little apartment where she knows no one and has no friends to play with and shares a room with a screaming newborn. She'll have to go back to daycare full-time, likely a new school, with new kids and new teachers and new rules. She's right...the only constant in her life will be me.

I'm so grateful for my family and the fact that they live so close. They are doing everything they can to help make her world keep spinning and I LOVE LOVE LOVE them for it, but they can't be with us all the time. They have their own lives, too. She and I have to find a way to make our lives together as a family of 2-1/2 and to make it happy, if at all possible.

I feel sorry for me, too, of course-- I lost my best friend. It hurts that I can't talk to him or put my arms around him or laugh with him. It is amazing how much a person can change in a couple of weeks. I miss the man he used to be, even if that man was flawed; I still loved him.

I wouldn't be surprised if I go into my pre-natal appointment today and the doctor says that a huge ulcer swallowed the baby whole. I had started feeling better after the first trimester was over, but then all this happened and I started vomiting again, only because of stress now. I can't eat much because I never know if it is going to stay down. I'm pretty sure I haven't gained an ounce since my last appointment.

I hate pretending like everything is fine. People are going to find out eventually, so now you know. There's no point asking "why?" because I don't have the answer and I'm trying to keep this as civil as possible. I know you are shocked and don't know what to say. That's ok. Thanks for your thoughts.

Happy Hallow-birthday!

Today, I wore a tight shirt for the first time and I just loved my little belly bump! I'm already wearing the little extenders on my regular jeans. I did feel the need to tell the new neighbors that I was pregnant so that they wouldn't think I'd just eaten too much candy the night before. I have been feeling better the past couple of days, so I've been trying to get some stuff done, and then I wind up over-doing it. I need to watch that.

Also, if you have the swine flu---STAY AWAY FROM ME!!! This thing is killing pregnant women because their immune systems are already weakened, so please keep your germs to yourself!! (I'm seriously terrified about this.) We got up early to go get in line at the county health dept to get the vaccine, but there were, literally, a thousand people lined up for blocks. I didn't really want to spend my birthday standing outside in line just to find out that they ran out of them.

I've got a baby in my tummy!!

That's my baby! The sonographer wanted to be sure I could see the two little feet sticking up in the air. :) My sister and I heard the heartbeat again and mercifully, I was able to have the sonogram done the normal way! Baby is now measuring 11 weeks, 5 days, which means that Wednesday marks the end of the first trimester!! I was tearing up just from being so thankful to make it this far. I feel like maybe I can relax, just a little, though there is still so much time to go. It feels like a real baby now. A couple people even told me I was showing!! I've noticed a bigger belly the past couple weeks, but I like that other people can tell.

To celebrate, my sister and I had a lovely lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, which I'd been craving. I just can't thank my family enough for all of their love and support.

Sono #2

I had some more bleeding this weekend, but it appeared to be "old" blood, as the doctor described it. I was still nauseous, hungry and tired, but my doctor said that even if I had miscarried, my body may still think it was pregnant, so she really wanted to do another ultrasound. We went in this morning, and I'll be honest, I was expecting the worst.

I can't wait until I can have ultrasounds done the regular way... Anyway, we saw a sac, but it looked empty. I just knew something had happened. But, no, the baby was tucked in the end. But, was there a heartbeat? I was sure there wasn't. But, there was a heartbeat and it was a good one. I was shocked.

She did see some blood on the ultrasound, but it was near the cervix and it didn't appear to be actively bleeding. She said that it could have been from the sonogram/pelvic exam or from implantation. I might see some more bleeding, so I'm going to try not to freak out.

She said the cervix is very vascular, especially during pregnancy. I'm wondering if the aspirin that I'm taking caused more bleeding than I normally would have seen. That's what I'm hoping anyway.

I'm not counting chickens yet, of course, but I'm glad we got good news. 8 weeks, 1 day, so we're still right on target. The picture above is from my phone, so it isn't very good, but the baby is so much more defined this week. You can see the head and appendages of some sort. So...yay. :)

I'm hoping this news can help us get through the next 3 weeks, which are bound to be the roughest. This past weekend was real bad. Tensions are high, I didn't feel well, I'm not finding a job and the house is mess because I didn't want to do anything that would make the bleeding worse. (By the way, if anyone knows of a part-time job where I'd be sitting most of the time, let me know. :) Roy works hard and comes home to do everything and then work on the business, too. Audrey and I have been suffering from serious cabin fever because I didn't want to chase her around the park or go for a walk. She's been talking back a lot and refuses to pick up her toys and calls us "mean" when she doesn't get her way. So, all in all, home has not been fun lately. Ernest the kitten provides some lighter moments when she isn't being abused by the child. We're certainly looking forward to Halloween. And, that's about it....

Waiting

So, the bleeding tapered off Tuesday morning. The nurse said that the bleeding could have been caused by Monday's pelvic exam or the sonogram. They don't want to cause anymore bleeding with another sonogram, so now we wait. If the bleeding returns, that isn't good. If it doesn't come back, maybe things are ok.

Meanwhile, I am sitting on my behind and not doing anything that doesn't have to be done. I don't want to take any chances, so unfortunately Roy is doing everything. Thankfully, he is awesome, but I feel bad since he already works so hard. Poor Audrey will not be going to the park with me anytime soon, so she's getting a little bit of cabin fever. And we wait...

No words

I started bleeding around 11 o'clock last night. My doctor could only come up with "unbelievable."

I flustered a nurse yet again by declining to go in for a sonogram today. We all knew what it would show, so my doctor said she understood. Supposed to go in later this week to draw blood again. Hopefully, it will sort itself out because I do not want to do another D&C.

We can't really even find a way to make funny cracks this time.

Baby

We had our sonogram today and breathed an enormous sigh of relief when we saw that baby's heart was beating. 140 beats per minute-- very strong. I always forget that I have a tilted uterus, so they can't do the sonogram the normal way. SOooo not comfortable. Baby is 7 weeks, 1 day along, which is less than 2 days away from my LMP date, so that is great. That puts the due date around May 14. (Spring Baby!)

But, I'm not getting my hopes up yet. We still have 5 weeks to go before I can breathe a little easier. Of course, the doctor is confident that all will be well, but they always are, aren't they?

The perinatologist wants me to get a sonogram every month and once we get to a certain point, I'll have to do non-stress tests twice a week. So....there you go. I'll keep ya posted.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

We had a little "oops" moment that very night after our perinatologist visit and I knew right away that since it was during the middle of my cycle, I was most likely going to get pregnant. I was immediately concerned, since we were supposed to wait at least 3 months. The next day, I called both my new OBGYN and my PCP. I wanted to 1) relay our perinatal visit, 2) find out who I was supposed to be talking to while we were planning to get pregnant, and 3) to see if I should be on progesterone now. After several phone calls, we decided that I should be liaising with my OBGYN while preparing to get pregnant. She said that even in light of the "oops", I should wait until I have a positive home pregnancy test to start taking the progesterone. I wasn't sure I agreed, but I'm not the doctor.

After a couple of weeks, I didn't feel any pregnancy symptoms, so I talked myself into believing that I wasn't pregnant after all. I only allow myself one caffeinated beverage a day, but I kept that up, feeling guilty the whole time.

We shot a wedding on September 12 and I was exhausted, as usual, the next day. I spent nearly the whole day in bed. The day after that, I still felt incredibly tired. At first, I was very confused, until I remembered the "oops." For a few days, I kept my suspicions to myself. I told myself that I would wait until the end of the week to see if Aunt Flo stopped by.

On Wednesday, the 16th, I was a little emotional and I decided to just take a test that evening. The "control" line was nice and bright, but the "positive" line was very faint. I was angry. We'd been here before and it ended badly. So, I decided that this was also likely to end badly and Roy agreed.

I called my doctor the next day so that I could go ahead and start taking the progesterone just in case. She wanted me to come in right away for a sonogram, but I requested to wait a couple weeks. This really flustered the nurse, but I explained that we'd been through this 3 times already. We had just received the bill for the last sonogram, which ended badly, and weren't all that excited about paying another $150 for a similar result. I reasoned that since I was on all the medications I was supposed to be on, that there wasn't anything they could do either way. She spoke to the doctor and agreed to wait a week and a half for the sonogram. I hated feeling this negative, but I figured I shouldn't get my hopes up.

Using my LMP, we figured I was 6 weeks along. I asked the nurse if the line should be faint at 6 weeks. In our experience, a faint line could mean either you just got pregnant or you are about to not be pregnant. She agreed that the line shouldn't be faint at 6 weeks. She told me to wait a couple days and take another test, but in the morning. On the morning of the 19th, I took another test with the same faint result, so I was feeling even more negative.

The next week, though, I really started having serious symptoms. I was so tired that I was letting Audrey sleep in ridiculously late and forcing her to take naps that she didn't want to, all so that I could get in some more sleep. Sometimes, I even threw in movies so that I could nap on the couch while she watched it. I was hungry all the time and I started feeling slightly nauseous. As the week progressed, the symptoms got stronger. My first trimester with Audrey went like this the whole 3 months. Despite being miserable, we figured this was a good sign, since I hadn't felt these strong symptoms with the other miscarriages. I started thinking ever so slightly more positively.

As usual, I kept waiting for the telltale bleeding to start. When we got to a week after the first pregnancy test, I got a little more excited. With the 1st and 3rd miscarriages, I didn't make it a week after a positive test. On Thursday evening, the 24th, we decided that I'd take another test to make sure we were still "positive" before the Monday sonogram. We'd hate to waste our time going to a doomed appointment. This time, we used a digital readout test. It told us very simply that we were, in fact, "pregnant." There were no lines to worry about, so I don't know if we would have had the same result if we'd used the line test again. Frankly, I don't think we wanted to even take the chance that we'd see faint lines again.

The results are in...

When I met with my new OBGYN, she set up an appointment for me with a perinatologist to find out more about the MTHFR gene and how it might be affecting my pregnancies. I lost that pregnancy the next week, but she wanted me to keep the appointment with the specialist.

On August 20, we went to the perinatologist expecting to meet with them and talk about testing. I assumed that we were going to work together to form a game plan to successfully make us a baby. It didn't quite work out that way.

They took us into an office to speak to a genetic counselor. I'll be honest. I didn't like her. We had to initiate the conversation and she kind of acted like, "What is it that you want from me?" And I was like, "My doctor told me to come and here I am." She had the test results in her hand. She said that, yes, the MTHFR gene definitely could cause clotting and loss of folate, which could lead to a miscarriage. However, they had ran some other test at the same time and those results led them to believe that this was not the cause of the miscarriage.

We asked what that meant and she said that, essentially, we were back at square one. It could be a thyroid problem, diabetes, etc... But, they tested me for all of that after the second miscarriage and the results were all "negative", I told her. She said the tissue sample that they tested after the D&C was thought to be female, but they could not determine if the tissue was mine or the fetus'. Again, I'm now mad at my previous doctor because she made it sound like we knew there was nothing wrong with me because all the test results were negative.

So, this chick said there was a possibility that even if Roy and I's chromosomes were fine by themselves, that once they got together to make a baby, something wonky happened and they became unbalanced. If that were the case, then 50% of our pregnancies would end badly due to chromosomal abnormalities. This was all beyond me, so she pulled out a chromosomal chart that didn't help at all. Roy seemed to get what she was saying, so I just nodded. Her suggestion was that we both undergo a high resolution chromosome scan to see if this was the problem. She said it was a $1500 test, so we should check to see if our insurance would cover it.

Next, she brought in the doctor, who didn't even introduce himself. He sat down and propped his feet up while he glanced at our chart. He said that because of this MTHFR gene, I would need to take a baby aspirin and folate pills everyday for the rest of my life to help prevent heart attack and stroke, aside from helping with the next pregnancy. He said he'd like for us to wait 3-6 cycles before we try again. I asked if low progesterone might be a cause for the miscarriages. I'd had low progesterone with the first two miscarriages and my doctor had put me on a supplement to help. I asked him if I should just start taking that now, as well. He said, "That is something you'll have to ask your doctor." I was like, "Wait. Aren't you the baby doctor specialist?"

Then, he looks up and says with absolute certainty, "Yep, I think if you just start taking those, then you should be fine," and then he stood to indicate that we were done...after 3 minutes with us.

I stammered, "So we don't need to have the chromosome test done, then?" And he looked at me like I was crazy and said, "You've had three miscarriages. You definitely need to have that test done." And I looked at him like, "What the hell?!" If a baby aspirin is going to solve my problem, why do I need to do this test?! Why did I even have to come here?! Why couldn't a doctor have told me that after, say, the first miscarriage? Or maybe even the second? "Hey, it won't hurt anything, so why don't we just go ahead and have you take this and see what happens? We don't know what the hell is wrong, but this just might fix it."

I started crying. I was so frustrated and I felt like these people weren't taking my problem seriously. To go through three of these horrible experiences and then to have him come in there,glance at our life's story and announce that a little over-the-counter pill was going to solve everything, without even a small measure of sensitivity or an acknowledgement of our suffering, blew me away. I should be excited that we had a "cure", but I didn't trust his certainty one bit. I remember my doctor telling me with absolute certainty that I had experienced "my one" miscarriage and the next pregnancy would be smooth sailing. If he was so certain, why the stupid test?!

Anyway, I walked out of there pissed off and hoping that I would never have to see those stupid people again. You would think that specialists in their line would have practiced a little more compassion in their delivery. Whatever. I cried a lot that day. Apparently, I only heard the "wait 6 months" part, not the "3-6 months" part. I was pretty darn upset about that. I hadn't even thought to ask why. Roy was like, "If we wait 6 months, that will give us another December baby. Swell."

I called our insurance company and after 10 phone calls back and forth between them and the perinatologist, found out that insurance would pay for the test, so we went in on August 28 to get our blood drawn. The receptionist that set up the appointment had never heard of the test and didn't know if we needed to fast for it. When we arrived, they only had me down to test, but we assured them that they were supposed to test both of us. Mine went smoothly, but poor Roy, who gives blood regularly, got poked multiple times and bruised repeatedly because the nurse couldn't tap a good vein. She actually walked away at one point because she was so frustrated. It took her 20 minutes to get a vial of blood from him and ended up having to go through the top of his hand.

We were told it would be at least two weeks to get results. Frankly, I was going to be surprised if they actually ran the test correctly. On September 18, they called to tell me that we "are both fine," in a sunshine-y tone.

Three Strikes...I'm out

Does anyone else watch "Phineas & Ferb" on the Disney channel? It is our favorite cartoon in this house and I think we've seen every episode. The other day, there was an episode where an embarrassing video of the evil Dr. Doofenschmirtz was circulating on the internet. So, he built a device that would remove whatever he wanted from every computer in the Tri-State area, as well as erase it from everyone's memory. The Erasonator, I believe he called it. I sure could use one of those right now to erase my stupid Facebook post and the 36 wonderful comments that followed.

Yesterday, I got results from the blood that was taken last Thursday at my PCP's office. They didn't run an HCG test, but my progesterone level was 11.8, very low. This didn't tell us any more than we already knew. I was still hoping that we were looking at a very early pregnancy. I woke up this morning, eagerly awaiting results from Tuesday's blood tests that should be in today. And...found that I was bleeding. Not spotting...bleeding.

I called my doctor's office and the results weren't back yet. The doctor said that, "The darn lab forgot to run the HCG test," but that they had ordered it this morning and should have results back in an hour. If it only takes an hour to run the test, why does it take 48 hours to get the frickin' results back? ANYway...

The nurse called a couple of hours ago and they found that my HCG level was 6, which she said shows that I had a "chemical pregnancy." This means, she said, that the egg was fertilized, but didn't implant. Chemical pregnancy is the term they use for a miscarriage that occurs before the fifth week of gestation, before a sac can be seen on an ultrasound.

The doc said that since I have now had three miscarriages, she still wants me to see a perinatologist to see if they can find the cause.

Frankly, Roy and I are tired of all this. The past few days have reminded us why we haven't tried since the last incident. It has been HELL. The waiting sucks. Life has to go on like nothing has happened, while we are sitting around wondering what the fuck is going on. Are we pregnant, or aren't we? I've been emotional and moody and taken it out on my poor little family.

It kills me that when I take my daughter to the playground, she looks around desperately for another kid to play with. When they leave, she whines, "Now who is going to play with me?" She refers to her friend Lydia as her sister, and her friend Ethan as her brother (although sometimes they get married). It hurts to see her fawning over babies and knowing how badly she wants one in our house. I hate to think about her lonely middle school years when she will wish there was another kid in the next room that she could whisper to at night. I want her to have the built-in playdate and confidant that I had growing up. I want her to have a best friend that shares the same blood on speed dial when she is grown up, so that she can tell them everything that she can't tell her mother. I want them to be able to talk about me behind my back and plan Mother's Day surprises for me. I don't want to cling to her so much that I suffocate her because I don't have two children to spread the love around to, because I am totally the mom that would do that. I don't want to burden her solely with our care when we are old and decrepit. Roy swears that being an only child was fine with him, but I know how much I love having a sister and I just wanted that for my kid, too.

Roy says he's done. I want to be done, but it feels a little selfish to just give up. I hate my life being in limbo. I wanted to decorate a nursery. Now, I feel like turning that room into a huge, kick-ass closet for my purses. We'll just go on with our life, spoil our daughter, grow our photography business and never think about another kid again. I'm half-tempted to have a hysterectomy.

The doctor's nurse just called to say that the doc wants me to have another HCG test in a week. I said, "Why?"

She paused and said, "Well, to make sure it goes back down to zero."

I said, "What's the point? I'm not going to be trying again anytime soon, so I'd rather not be a pin cushion if I don't have to."

She stammered and she said she'd ask the doctor and call me back. Roy laughed.

Roy has a whole stand-up routine that he's going through now called "Mitigating the Unhappy Times with Crude Humor". He joked that the publishers of "What To Expect When You're Expecting" should sell the book in trimesters because then we would only need the first part. He's going to write a book called "What To Expect When You're Expecting...To Not Be Expecting" (copyright 2009). He also says he is going to hop the fence and kick the neighbor's dog.

I'm having cramps and back pain, but I need to go buy myself something pretty or maybe something that barks or purrs. "Anna, Here's a puppy since we can't give you a sibling. At least it won't steal your boyfriend." Also, I want to use the word FUCK....a lot.

MY Vagina Monologue

I'm in a bad mood, so be prepared for a snarky post.

I had my first prenatal appointment with my new OB/GYN today. I decided to go with someone new, even though I used to love the doctor that I've used before, but after the second miscarriage, I didn't feel like she was answering my questions...or returning my phone calls. When I saw my PCP last week, I told her that I needed someone that would really hold my hand this time around, because I was going to be a basket case. So, she suggested this new doc. Yesterday, I stopped by my old doctor's office to get copies of my genetic testing results after the D&C, so that the new doc could have this info, at my PCP's suggestion.

Roy drove me and I spent a lot of time filling out paperwork, of course. They actually had this medical history form that is one of those fill-in-the-dots, machine-read forms. It took me back to grade school, when we had to do those state tests. Use only a number 2 pencil and fill in the entire circle... For "occupation", I listed "stay-at-home mom", much to my delight, and Roy's chagrin. He insisted that it doesn't count as a job. To which I replied, "I'm the CEO of this household!" (That's from "One Fine Day".) He fired back, "I'm the CEO, the COO and the CFO. This is the corporation of Roy in the city of Andreas!" Oh, he's funny.

Got weighed (146, yeah, I don't care who knows. Just let me say--4 pregnancies in 4 years!! Cut me some slack! ;), gave a urine specimen and then met my new doctor, who is very nice. I brought her the test results and she was flipping through them while we talked. My old doctor had told us that everything had appeared normal except that there was some gene that I have that could cause heart disease when I'm older. She said that the results did not indicate any problems that led to the miscarriages.

Well, new doctor is reading the same results and gets to that portion. The gene is called Methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase. Roy joked, "Well, there's the problem. You've been on meth!" The gene is shortened to MTHFR. You can guess what nickname he gave it. (He tries to joke a lot to keep me from crying.)

She tries to explain all this scientific crap about this gene and my eyes gloss over and I hear Charlie Brown's teacher going, "Wah wah wah, wah wah wah wah." But, the gist is that this gene can cause clotting, which we know very well is one of the possible causes of miscarriages. I was told specifically by my previous doctor that I did NOT have any blood clotting issues, so now I'm mad.

My mother had repeat miscarriages and a stroke. Since both can be caused by blood clotting and I may have a gene that causes blood clotting, this seems like a real red flag to me. My old doctor knew all of this and yet didn't mention it. I'm looking at the test results and it actually says, "Consider additional testing..." and "Consider genetic consultation and counseling of potentially affected family members..."

New doc says that given this gene and the fact that pregnancy increases your likelihood of getting blood clots anyway, I need to be sure to take necessary precautions on trips, like stopping every hour to walk around. So, turns out that I made a good decision when I stayed home this past weekend while Roy drove the 12 hours to Detroit. Who knew? Oh, my old doctor knew, but I didn't.

So, new doctor tells me to continue taking the progesterone supplement that I'm on and to add a baby aspirin every day to thin my blood. She says that this same gene may lead to a folic acid deficiency. Folic acid, as we know, is very important in the early weeks of pregnancy, which is why we take prenatal vitamins. She says I should stop taking the prenatal vitamin and start taking straight folate vitamins instead. She also says she will make me an appointment to see a perinatologist, which is someone who specializes in high-risk pregnancies. They will give me more information on the problems this gene may cause.

So, my head is spinning with all this new information that I should have gotten from my old doctor. Then, new doc says that she wants me to go have a sonogram done today, just to see how things are going. She warns that this early, there may not be much to see, probably just a gestational sac, but I already know that. She gives me an exam and warns repeatedly that the speculum may cause a little bleeding and not to be concerned. She obviously knows that having two miscarriages means that I'm watching very carefully for any spotting and will FLIP OUT if I have some. She even goes so far as to tell me that even though sex is not dangerous to the fetus, which we know, that I should probably just go ahead and abstain through the first trimester since that can cause bleeding too, and we don't want to freak me out. Roy nods with too much enthusiasm in the corner because he doesn't want to be responsible for causing a major meltdown. Was that too much information? You should probably stop reading now, 'cause it just keeps coming.

She said that everything looked normal and sent me off to have a gallon of blood drawn for tests. But not before assuring me that this pregnancy would go just fine. I know they think I want to hear that, but I know that they can't guarantee it and I wish they just wouldn't say it at all. I'd rather hear, "Well, we're sure going to do our best to help you get through this." Or something to that effect. I want the truth. I can handle the truth.

Got lots of blood taken from a very good phlebotomist. I hardly even noticed. Then, we went to check out. Doctor said to go ahead and schedule a sonogram for 2 weeks away and 4 weeks away, along with my next appointment. While we're there, the lovely receptionist asked if we wanted to go ahead and schedule future appointments. So, we scheduled our monthly appointments for the rest of the year. She would have kept going if I'd let her. I assured her that December was enough for me. I'm thinking to myself, these are just going to be more appointments that I have to cancel if something goes wrong. Yep. Debbie Downer right here.

Then, we pay a visit to the money lady, who tells us how much our care is going to cost. At least, I think that's what she said. She was incredibly old and I couldn't make out much of what she said, very softly and very slowly, but I nodded after I asked her to repeat herself a couple of times, because it seemed like the right thing to do. She seemed very nice, but again, she could have been cursing me, but she did it with a Grandma's smile on her face. Roy seemed to speak her language and they had a few laughs while I looked at the numbers. I wanted to ask, so how much do we pay if this all goes south in the next couple of weeks? Where is that paperwork? Oh, and since I'm using a new doctor, in a new group, I have to deliver at a different hospital and my pediatrician doesn't have rights there. So, some stranger would be seeing the baby whilst in the hospital. Awesome.

And then we rushed across town to make the sonogram appointment at their other location, since this one was booked. All of this is during the lunch hour, two hours after we arrived, after I've had a ton of blood drawn. I guess I should be thankful that the doctor and her support staff was willing to answer all my questions and spend as much time with me as necessary, but I didn't feel like looking at it that way right then. I only cried about 3 times during the visit. It is all just so stressful and I hate the waiting and the worry and I just feel like I've been at this point so often and it just seems hopeless. It totally freaks Roy out. Sorry about that, Sweetie.

Gentlemen, this is probably where you need to stop reading, if you haven't already. I wish there was a way to make sure only chicks could read your blog. Maybe a personality test beforehand? Would you rather be watching: A-"Terminator" or B-"When Harry Met Sally"? Only answer B will allow you to enter the site... Anyway...

Having had many early pregnancy sonograms, I asked the technician if I should empty my bladder, but she said that she would try to ultrasound on my stomach first. It didn't work, of course because it is so early in the pregnancy, so she had to use the vaginal stick-thing. Even though I knew her answer, I asked her anyway if this was safe. "Of course it is," she says. "But it may cause spotting," I say. "No, it shouldn't," she says, somewhat surprised. So, let me get this right...doc's speculum and sex may cause bleeding, but this big dildo-shaped sonogram thing won't? Doesn't make much sense to me. I just want to know what to expect, alright? If I go home and I'm bleeding, I want to know why because it is frickin' scary to see.

So, she gets started and quickly tells me that I have a tilted uterus. I kind of remember hearing my old doc say that when I was pregnant with Anna, but it "righted" itself during the course of the pregnancy and I hadn't heard about it since. Even with all the sonograms I've had since then, and there have been plenty, no one had mentioned it again until now. I guess that explains why the traditional ultrasound way doesn't tend to work on me.

She's looking around and suddenly says, "So, you had a positive home pregnancy test?" And I say, "No, I had a positive test at a doctor's appointment." "Here?" she says. "No, at my PCP," I say. "Well, the reason I ask," she says, "Is because I'm not finding anything in your uterus." "Oh, swell," I say.

I'll spare you the rest of the dialogue. She moved that thing around every which way and then some ways that aren't even possible and MY GOD was that uncomfortable. Ladies, the feeling of a pap smear--ten times over. It just wouldn't end. She didn't want to give up and I appreciate that, but at one point, I had to ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?" I mean, she was in there longer than it is EVER necessary for ANYTHING to be in a vagina and that is just a plain and simple fact. And I can't even remember her name.

Finally, she repeated that she didn't find anything in the uterus. She had then looked to see if I had an ectopic pregnancy, but didn't find anything in the fallopian tubes or the ovaries. Apparently, my ovaries were lying low or something, which made them harder to look at. She said that there was a lining in the uterus, which either means a pregnancy or Aunt Flo's getting ready to visit.

We got in the car and not even 2 minutes had passed before I got a call from the actual doctor herself. She said that the lining was thin, which, she was sorry to say, could indicate a false positive on the pregnancy test. I told her that with all the symptoms I had, I was pretty sure that was not the case. She said, then, that it just could be really early in the pregnancy. They determine due date by LMP until you have a really good sonogram, so it could be that I'm only a few weeks along instead of the 5.5 that they calculated.

The blood tests that I took today will give them a hormone level that should indicate the age of the pregnancy. I've done this enough times now that I knew the test would then have to be repeated in 2 days so they can compare HCG levels to determine if the pregnancy is "viable." God, I hate that word. So, I should get results on Thursday that will tell us something.

I actually expected bad news on this visit, because I'm just getting used to it, but Roy was pretty upset. He wants to be able to enjoy this pregnancy, understandably. "Why can't we ever get plain, old good news?!" he lamented. I hear ya, Buddy.

Now begins the waiting game. And, I'm spent.

Big News!!

So...we've been busy shooting engagements, weddings and portraits. Car show this weekend and we have three shoots lined up for next weekend. Fall is just around the corner!! Can you feel it?!

And...yesterday I went to the doctor to confirm my suspicions...and found out that I am indeed,5 weeks pregnant!! I'm ecstatic and terrified and I will likely be a total monster during the next 9 months, so please forgive me. Expect somethings along the lines of, "Don't smoke in my general vicinity! Are you crazy?!" or "Don't you dare touch my stomach! Do you want me to break your arm?!" If you don't remember why, see this post. In a burst of optimism, I have now added a "pregnancy" label. Yay! (I'm very tired and my back hurts, so don't get angry that you didn't get a personal phone call. This is way easier.)

Normally, I wouldn't share this happy news with people until we reached that critical 3 month mark, but I've put everything else out here, so I might as well document the whole experience.

I'll get results from a progesterone test on Monday, but my doctor has me taking a supplement anyway since my levels were low during the last pregnancy. I have my first prenatal appointment (with a new obstetrician) on Tuesday, so I'm anxious to find out how we are going to go about keeping me sane during this process, especially since I have to quit my happy pills. I think I have Restless Leg Syndrome, which is very uncomfortable. That combined with the lower back pain that is pretty much constant, make me really nervous, but I'm going to try to be positive.

I'm blue (da ba dee)

Today is May 11. Da da dum. I've been thinking about this day for a long time, but this past week, I thought of it a lot. Yesterday was kind of hard. I wanted to be happy about Mother's Day, but I kept remembering that I was supposed to be a mother of two.

I knew today would be rough, but I had decided that Anna and I would keep busy. We were going to go to the library, make cookies and paint pictures. She decided it was a pig-tail day, so we both busted some out. Then, she decided that she wanted to play with her animals and didn't want to go to the library. I don't have the strength to force her today, so I thought I'd sit down and wait her out. She loves the library, so I knew she'd come around.

Opened my computer to check Facebook and oh, hi, look at someone's 3D sonogram pics. And, that is all it took to derail me. All this after I said last week that I was "better now" and I "wouldn't break down" if the subject came up and people shouldn't feel bad about mentioning their babies to me. I guess I'm a big, fat liar, liar, pants on fire.I have some pretty strange dreams. Last night's is easy enough to decipher. We were living in a small house by the ocean. My mom and grandma were there, as well as my friend Julie and her husband, Byron. We were watching a TV movie about Nancy Grace (who was a brunette) which was fascinating. I was holding Anna and the moms were watching our 5 month-old daughter (random), who we kept calling "Susie" (after my sister), even though that wasn't her name. All of a sudden my mom runs into the room and says that Susie just said her first words. I picked her up and she looked at me and said, "Where's Daddy?" I was so elated that I ran the girls out to the beach, where Roy (the fisherman) was returning with the other men with the day's catch. I told him the good news and we all embraced as a perfect, shining family. There are a lot of gaffes in this dream, the least of which being that babies don't speak two-word questions at 5 months, but dreams are silly that way.

Last week, we found out that there was yet another recall on the brand of crib we had purchased. I swear, if we found out that the stupid box sitting untouched in our garage was recalled, we were just going to call it a draw. I will NOT be walking back into Babies R Us until I need to buy something for a real baby with a real due date. No more trips for hypothetical babies. It turned out that our new crib was fine, but the lesson here is, DO NOT buy Jardine cribs from BRU. 60% of the time, they get recalled every time.

Some day I'll get over myself and remember that there are far worse things than losing a baby or babies that I didn't know, but today, I'm just feeling sorry for myself. What stings the most is that no one else around me would remember this date. Just me. Not even my husband. I don't blame him. I would have put this out of my mind if I could. I put the two sonogram pictures in the top of the closet along with the "What to Expect" and "1000 Baby Names" books. I haven't looked at them since October, but today might be the day I decide to face those demons. Maybe tomorrow will be the magic day that I wake up and move on. At the very least, you should all demand a sunnier post...or your money back.

I am SAHM, SAHM I am

This was my fourth week as a "part-time stay at home mom," meaning that Anna is now staying home with me three days a week. This is a big switch from going to school every day. She still goes to preschool two days a week, but that leaves ME in charge of her nutrition and education for three days. ME. The weekends don't count because we just play around. I knew she was getting a good education and nutritious meals five days a week, so we could be more relaxed on the weekends. Now, I'm responsible for making sure she eats veggies and learns to read. YIKES.

Ever since I became pregnant, my dream has been to stay at home with Anna. I was able to work part-time her first year, so I got to spend every afternoon with her and it was fabulous. But, she was a baby then and easy to entertain and easy to feed.

SAHM. The abbreviation is kind of annoying. Heather has her own version. The most fitting one that I could come up with for myself was: Slightly Anal Hell Monster. Roy would argue that "slightly" is not accurate.

Anna's preschool teachers would definitely be able to comment on my new nickname for myself. They have felt alot of my wrath lately as we've had many "incidents" that they needed to address. That is a whole other issue that I can't go into right now, but I'm sure they call me much worse behind my back. But honestly, she only goes two days a week now! You would think they could manage to follow regulations and keep her safe for TWO DAYS!!

ANYway, I'm proud to say that we've been doing pretty good here though. Anna is certainly enjoying more time at home. The first day she was here, I quizzed her on her letter recognition and we've been working on the ones she had trouble with. We do a letter per week and work on recognizing it, drawing it, and associating a sound with it, as well as words that begin with that letter. It really is fun to see her pick out letters she sees now and to know that I taught her that.

She loves the library, the mall and the park, but we've also had a ton of fun playing dress up and dancing around the house. She does a great job of alternating music with me so that we aren't listening to "Bop Bop Dinosaur" all day. She can sing the "Mamma Mia" soundtrack almost as well as I can. Some days are easier than others, of course. There were a couple of times that we actually yelled at each other, but I know we're closer than ever. She tells me everyday that I'm "her best friend," so I take that as a good sign.

Yesterday was a very good day. We made chocolate chip muffins for breakfast. Then, we decorated Mother's Day cards for grandmas. She practiced writing some letters and was very proud of herself. We got out my beads that have been gathering dust in the closet since her birth and made a bracelet. She picked out all the beads and loved the result so much that she wore it to school and showed it to everyone.

This whole experience is weird for me because I feel like I am in limbo. I don't really consider myself a stay-at-home mom because I intend to get a job and am actively looking for one. However, no one wants me, so it could be awhile. I would like to be a full-time writer and photographer, but while I attempt to refine my skills in both on a daily basis, I feel like I'm not getting very far because I have to split my time between so many things. Marketing yourself online really requires a LOT of time. And then there's housework. Ugh. I just can't keep up with everything, so that suffers the most.

All of this plus the drama that I don't write about and the fact that next week would have been my due date makes me a very blue girl sometimes. So...I talked to my doctor and upped my medication yesterday. I hope this gets me over the hump. I really meant for this to be an upbeat post...kind of screwed that one up.

She said the M word

I posted this at my other blog site, finally (publicly) addressing the fact that I had miscarriages....
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I know I've been neglecting you all lately. Sorry about that. I still need to fill you in on what's been happening over here, but instead, let me use today to address something that several people have mentioned lately. Deep breath.....

Okay...in case you didn't know...I had two miscarriages last year. I have a separate blog that I started back then that I didn't share with anyone. I linked it here, but don't visit unless you are seriously prepared to hear to the gory details. Also, it is VERY personal, as personal as personal gets. I can't even believe some of the things that I shared on there, so A) don't be offended, B) don't be a jerk. My husband "knows some people who know some people who robbed some people." So, don't mess with me.

Another round of friend pregnancies. They seem to come in waves. Friends: please know that I AM happy for you. I am also a tad jealous, but that does not mean that I hate you, nor does it mean that you can not talk about your baby in my presence. A few months ago, that would have been the case, but I'm better now, really. :)It is pretty crazy to think that if we hadn't suffered the first miscarriage, we would have a newborn baby in our house now. That is really hard for me to imagine.I'm struggling a little with the future of Shareapy. At first, it was just for me, then it was also for strangers who needed to know they weren't alone. That part of my life was something I didn't talk about except in the company of close friends and family, but why? Because I didn't want to make people uncomfortable. No one wants to hear about my dead babies. AWKward....

It is very strange to think that someone who hasn't had a miscarriage and doesn't even know me might read that site. It feels like that dream I have where I forget that I haven't shaved my legs in months, but I go walking around in shorts and everyone is laughing at me, but I don't realize it until I've been out for hours.We are such a voyeuristic society that we like to watch other people's pain up close. Does it make us feel more human to connect to someone's misery? Or does it make us feel better about our own lives? Either way, I engage in it, too. It is the reason I watch reality TV and read other people's blogs. It is just very surreal for me to be on the other side of the looking glass. I've given everyone in school the key to my diary...why would I do that?! I guess I just want everyone to have some insight. Maybe if we talk about miscarriages more openly, the women who experience them won't have to live dual lives--smiling and laughing while they die inside. And,I think it will be a relief that I can talk how this still affects me now.

Here's the deal...the secret is out now. I had two miscarriages. It is a part of who I am. It doesn't mean that I want to bring it up in everyday conversation, but I'm not so fragile anymore that I will burst into tears if it does come up.I'm not going to go into detail, but let me just clear up one thing right now: Miscarriages are a big deal. A HUGE, GIANT, ELEPHANT-SIZED deal. It feels like you lost everything. That might not make sense to someone who has never experienced it, but just take my word for it. I remember what went through my head before I had one. It was something like, "Oh, that sucks. But, they can try again." Oh, dear Lord. Just imagine...every single day, this person will wake up and remember that they were supposed to be pregnant today. Every day takes them closer to a due date that won't come. It is a DAILY struggle.

If you know someone who's had a miscarriage, you are probably wondering what to say to them. Feel free to email me and I can give you some pointers.

What I found especially difficult is that there weren't a lot of resources immediately available to help me. I didn't know what to expect physically or emotionally. I had to do a lot of research on my own, which just made me feel even more alone. Hopefully, other doctors provide more support than mine did.With a miscarriage, there is no one else to feel your pain, except your spouse. While your husband is equally devastated, even he didn't have the physical connection to the baby that you did. The memories are all in your head. They are just visions you created of the love you'd share with your future child. No one can share in your pain because they didn't know your child.

Anyway, my whole point is that I think I will keep Shareapy a separate site because the ladies that need support right now don't want to hear about the necklace I bought last week or some hilarious website or Anna's latest revelation. When they get to a place that they can laugh and smile again, they are welcome with open arms over here at CFB. Meanwhile, all my lovely CFB readers may, once in awhile, hear about how I'm feeling in regard to my miscarriages, because that is as much a part of me as the fact that I can't go two days without gushing over Twilight. Twilight, Twilight, Twilight! I love Twilight!

Stephenie Meyer, my salvation

I started this as a journal, of sorts, for myself. I figured that if it helped someone, that would be a perk. I see now that there was a comment on my first entry, so I'm thinking that people may actually be reading this, so I should try to pass on some wisdom.

When I first experienced my miscarriages, I did a lot of searching on the internet and it did help to find blogs of other women who had been through this. Just knowing that you aren't alone helps a little. At first, it felt like I would never be at a point where I could even function, let alone be happy. I'm glad to say that I am now in a place where I can go a day, sometimes longer, without thinking about the miscarriage. As a disclaimer, everything expressed here relates to my situation and no one else's. I realize that what worked for me, may not be what someone else needs.

Having come out on the other side of this mess, I can now share with you what helped me. Again, I stress that this helped me. It may or may not apply to you, but I figure that anything is worth a shot when you are absolutely miserable.

Yesterday, I posted that being on meds helps keep the pain at bay. Again, medication may not be for everyone, but it has given me a welcome relief. I am a very emotional person under normal circumstances. Under the duress of two miscarriages, I was a wreck. Normally, I would say that I enjoy being able to feel emotions at their rawest form--it does make me feel alive. I've heard someone say that she didn't feel like herself when she took medication because she couldn't feel emotion. I needed a break from the emotion. Anyway, my post yesterday reminded me of the book, New Moon.

Laugh if you want, but the Twilight series was the buoy that I needed in my storm. Seriously. I picked it up about 6 weeks after the second miscarriage and it was exactly what I needed. I had tried to read a book about getting through miscarriages, but it just made me even more miserable. I found no comfort in religion. I needed a distraction. I became engrossed in this series and they gave me something else to think about. It got me through the roughest part. Then, I decided that I was ready to try medication. I'm still totally in love with the books and have read them all twice. If you haven't gotten hooked yet, you might give them a try. The second book, New Moon, really hit home. The main character goes through a very dark time in her life and I was really able to connect with her pain. Sure, she is 17 and I'm 30. She is fictional and I am...not. She lost her first love and I lost two children, but...we are both women and we bear some absolutely unbearable pain.

Here are some pieces of wisdom from New Moon (copyright Stephenie Meyer)...

"I wished I could feel numb again, but I couldn't remember how I'd managed it before. The nightmare was nagging at my mind and making me think about things that would cause me pain....Even as I shuddered away from the images, I felt my eyes fill with tears and the aching begin around the edges of the hole in my chest. I took one hand from the steering wheel and wrapped it around my torso to hold it in one piece." (pg 123)

"The hole came back, the way it always did when I was away from Jacob, but it didn't throb so badly around the edges. I was already planning ahead, looking forward to more delusions, and that was a distraction...That made the empty hole and the familiar pain easier to bear; relief was in sight. The nightmare, too, had lost a little of its potency. I was horrified by the nothingness, as always, but I was also strangely impatient as I waited for the moment that would send me screaming into consciousness. I knew the nightmare had to end." (pg 193)

"I was like a lost moon--my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation--that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity." (pg 201)

"I was an empty shell. Like a vacant house--condemned--for months I'd been utterly uninhabitable. Now I was a little improved. The front room was in better repair. But that was all--just the one small piece..." (pg 216)

Gone so long...and really none the wiser

Wow. Just rereading my entries. Bitter much?

I guess the difference now is that I'm on meds. Nothing hurts quite as bad. It is like, you know the pain is there, but you just feel the edges of the pain--not the whole thing. I'm in therapy, too, but I'm going to have to cut back to once a month instead of the once a week that felt really good.

For months, we have gone back and forth between, A) Let's have a baby right now. and B) Who needs another mouth to feed? Not us.

We had decided to wait until the new year to even talk about it. The new year came and went and we are no closer to a decision than we were.

There was a big ugly date that was posted to our bulletin board that kept screaming at me in exclamation points. (Is there any other way to scream?) Long story, but the short version is that our daughter's crib was recalled last summer. Since she was 2-1/2, we went ahead and moved her to a toddler bed. We figured that we would be needing the crib again soon anyway. We received a voucher for a new crib and we would have to purchase this crib by 1/31/09. That seemed like a million years away, so no biggie. Then, of course, the unthinkable happened.

Suddenly, this voucher and its date were mocking me. So cruel. We still hadn't made a decision by The Date, though I thought about it every day, so we took it to the baby store and picked out a stupid crib for a baby that probably won't get conceived. I, being on meds, actually made it through the experience I'd been dreading with little emotion. Hub, not being on meds, really struggled with it. He hated every minute and couldn't wait to leave. I don't even remember what we picked out, but it is sitting in the garage, still in the box. Where it will remain. Possibly until the end of time. We would give it away, but, what if?

I got laid off last week, so now all is in chaos. I guess we've tabled the discussion yet again.