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Showing posts from October, 2007

My day so far...

Woke up.
Felt Myles move.
Smiled.
Showered.
Bought donuts.
Came to work.
Got irritated by client request(s).
Ate donuts.
Didn't feel baby Myles move.
Freaked out.
Went home and got doppler.
Felt baby Myles move.
Cried.
Came back to work.
Tried to appease client(s).
Walked down to Hardees for lunch.
Laughed with big burly contractor at his "The Saints Go Marching In" ringtone.
Discovered a double cheeseburger, instead of the single I paid for, in my to-go bag.

How's your day been?

(Should I add a category of posts? Something like "f***ed-up mental state" maybe?)

Kindergarten madness

I am a reasonable person. (I am! Stop laughing!) And I have tried to follow all the rules and not "rock the boat." But my patience is wearing thin with this kindergarten business. But I think I may just reach my breaking point soon. And whether it is hormonally induced or not, I simply do not care.

Let's recap...
~There is no time to take off your recess clothes before lunch...you must wear them while eating.
~A note must be on file in order to pick your child up from school...but you have to keep sending an additional one every morning until the school finally catches on.
~You must actually set foot IN the gym in order for your child to be released to you (Unless you're a man, then you can do whatever you like...And please don't expect the teacher to know where your child is if you are a few minutes late).
~An "art shirt" is required, though nobody tells you this until AFTER your child attends his first art class without one.

And then there are the additio…

Another day, another appointment

As if you couldn't guess by yesterdays oh-so-cheerful post, I had another OB appointment this morning. Everything looks fine. Everything always looks fine. We're 'so glad this is so hum-drum-boring." If I didn't know my own history, I would think I was making it all up and I really was a normal woman (Is it me, or do I sound a bit like Pinocchio there..."I wish I was a real boy?" I think I need to reduce my daily Disney intake.).

I just need to keep the pre-appointment freakouts at bay for 26 more days...but I'm running out of distractions that work. The doubting chorus is too loud to drown out these days. I can't concentrate on much other than keeping track of the last time I tested my blood sugar, the last time I ate, and the last time I felt Myles move. So I'm watching a lot of television, crocheting on multiple projects (I promise an update soon), shopping for gifts for friends and secret pals, shopping for baby, and hanging out with my g…

Dead baby soundtrack

Someone (I'm sorry, I can't remember who), posted about the incessant chorus that plays in the background ALL.THE.TIME.

Mine is here...non-stop...singing...taunting...

32 weeks
just four more
you think you'll make it?
another day closer
Alex died at 35 weeks
what makes you think you'll get that precious extra week?
what makes you think this will work?
a living baby?
you're not that special
you only have dead babies now
dead babies
dead babies
dead babies

It's got a terrible tune, and you just can't dance to it.

Thank you!

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My dear friend, Shinny, sent me this, along with a note to Myles.

Thank you Shinny! I'm working on something special for you. I hope to have it done (and actually shipped) before baby girl arrives.

My other dear friend, Cynthia, sent me a dozen candy roses (I haven't unwrapped one yet...they MIGHT be chocolate), with a lovely note letting me know that she's with me to the end.

It's so strange how the smallest things can make you smile and cry at the same time. I NEVER imagined I would find the kind of friends I have along this journey. Where there was nothing but darkness there is love and happiness and friendship. Thank you for the gifts...but more importantly...thank you for being my friends...my support.

Do you really want to see me cry?

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You know what you shouldn't encounter just before having your blood pressure taken and submitting to a non-stress test?

STRESS

Ah-ha! Okie dokie!

So then, dear nurse, you should not look at me with your darn chipper smile (while I'm hefting my fat ass onto the scale) and ask, "So why are we doing these non-stress tests for you?"**
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It also occurs to me that there is something "wrong" about laying on an exam table, strapped to a fetal heart monitor, trying to pay attention to the movements of the living baby inside your belly...while explaining your dead baby history to your nurse.
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I appreciate the fact that everyone assumes that pregnancy and babies are a happy topic. I really do.

And I appreciate that my son's soccer coach was making polite chit-chat with us. I really do.

I am just SO glad she coyly suggested that we will "ne…

We all have some explaining to do

I learned a very important lesson this morning. It never hurts to ask your five-year-old the questions that are in your head. In fact, I would encourage it.

Last year, Sam was invited to a pirate-themed birthday party. Against my better judgment, I bowed to mommy guilt and bought him a foam pirate sword so that he could fully participate. You see, I have never been one to like weapons play. We have a couple super-soakers and a bug-sucking gun, but that's about it as far as toys that in any way resemble weapons (oh, and the light sabre a friend gave me...yes, I'm a nerd). We don't watch television with violence in it when Sam is in the room. In fact, before attending the pirate party, we had to explain what a pirate was.

So I was more than a bit disturbed this morning when I was ironing my shirt for work and I see Sam charge into the bedroom, wielding the sword, and proclaiming, "He slices...he dices..."

Wha...? Where did that come from? And is it wrong that I immedi…

I love you, Grandpa

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The man who was my (biological) paternal grandfather died when I was small. I don't consciously remember him except in the photographs of his very serious face and the stories my mom told me about how I, as a baby, found him so fascinating that I would stare at him, unblinking, for hours. He was, by all accounts, a difficult man to understand and love.

I suppose that is why it always struck me as somehow poetic that my grandmother then married someone who, I have to imagine, was my biological paternal grandfather's polar opposite. My grandpa. He has always been my grandpa...as long as I can remember. Even though the greeting cards were always signed, "Mahlon and Ruby," I always referred to them as grandpa and grandma. And today I learned that my grandpa is gone.

Family with blood connections could not have been closer and more loved than this family created by marriage. A fact that he prided himself on. A fact that he stated directly to me that Christmas visit when I w…

Baby likes you better on your left side

Did you ever notice that doctors, especially OB's, say some pretty strange things to you when you're visiting their office? Are they trying to be cute? Funny? What? Because, quite frankly, I find it annoying. But I'm hormonal and bitchy, so what do I know?

This wasn't my doctor, but another doctor in the practice who just came in to "check on me" during my NST. I suspect she was checking on me because my non-stress test today was not good when lying on my back. Duh. But that was the result of dealing with a nurse I have never dealt with before who obviously did not know my history (or how much I actually know about pregnancy gone haywire). So after 15 minutes of not much, I was unceremoniously rolled to my left side (which is no small task these days) and monitored for another 20 minutes. Necessitating a "check" by a doctor (just in case there was bad news, I'm guessing). Dr. A declared the strip another TOB (thing of beauty).

Baby Myles has mos…

Welcome to the world Piglet!!!

Weighing in at 8lbs and 1oz and measuring 21 1/2 inches long...with a full head of dark hair and huge feet (according to his Aunt Lizzie).

Congratulations Laura!!!

Moms...please help!

I'm still very much a first-time mom with Samuel. There are things that happen that I fake my way through and think, "Hey, I did pretty good with that one." Then there are things that happen that I am completely and totally stumped on. I fake my way through and think, "Did I do that right?" So I need your thoughts on this (hypothetical) situation...

At daycare, your child and his friend are caught deliberately spitting on another friend...reducing her to tears. While child has been in trouble for misbehaving before, this is the first time child has deliberately been blatantly cruel to another child (that you know of), and the "ganging up" aspect is particularly troublesome to you, especially when all three children have been, up to this point, good friends.

What do you do (besides freak out that your child has become a bad seed and quietly cry yourself to sleep at night)?

What they don't tell you about subsequent pregnancy after loss(es)

~That it will f*** up your mind and leave you unable to think about anything but the last time you felt baby move. Seriously. Work, hobbies, television...you will not comprehend a thing. You will read the same paragraph a thousand times...ask people to repeat things...find yourself watching a television program and realize you have no idea what is happening (thank heavens for DVRs). Take "pregnancy brain" and multiply it by a million. It's awful. And if you're a Type A, like me, it will drive you mad that you have spent an entire day looking at your blank computer screen and have basically accomplished nothing.

~That you will have deep dark irrational fears about losing everyone you love and being left completely alone. That you will actually contemplate how you will continue your life without those people you love. That you will make an effort to say "I love you" because you don't ever want to have the regret of not having said it.

~That with every twing…

Thanks...but

Apparently, all I need to do is complain about him, drink some city water, and spend an hour on all fours (thanks Sarah...I totally forgot about trying that), for Myles to take pity on his mama and move around. I swear I will never never never again complain about him being up too high in my ribs. I'd rather not breathe than not poop any day.

And thank you all for your...ummm...(helpful?)...suggestions. While I appreciate the thought, it's a bit more complicated. And rather than discuss the personal nature of my hoo-ha and the germs that reside within (not to mention making Steve turn another ten shades of red), I will just say that things will remain chaste and pure until this babe is born kicking and screaming (and then for whatever recovery period is necessary).

I am feeling better today. Now I need to find some breakfast. My stomach has been growling at me since 4am. I guess the tank is empty. Hallelujah!

Warning: Ungrateful pregnancy whine ahead

I thought I had something to complain about before. HA! hahahahahahah! HA! HA! HA!

Oh you sweet naive (stupid stupid stupid) pregnancy lady of a mere two months ago. How you were fooled!

NOW...NOW you have something to complain about!

And let me preface this by saying that I will do anything and everything to bring Baby Myles home alive...happy and healthy.

But MY GOD! This transverse position in my belly is killing me! I am going to split down the middle! I know he's not coming out the traditional way, but would it be too much to ask for him to find a head-down position in there anyway? (and, oh my God, I just about typed, "would it kill him to find a head-down position in there?" and had to rephrase it...ack!)

My intestines are squished and PAINFUL, under what I can only assume is his big old noggin. If I eat anything, his head sits in the way and I get...for lack of a better description...all backed up in there! My bladder feels bruised. My Lovenox bruises have bruises fr…

October 15, 2007

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Today I reflect on what might have been, as I remember our lost babies, Alex and Travis.

Today I hope for the future in what I dream for our boys, Samuel and Myles.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, 2007.

Congratulations Sarah!!!

Still no name...but good news, nonetheless!

Congratulations to Sarah and Steve on the arrival of your baby boy! We are so so happy for you!

Baby stuff (as requested)

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Bedding/nursery decoration

Infant carrier

Stroller

Bouncy seat

Swing (version with plug-in)

Cute little onesie that says, "Mommy's wakeup call"

Waterproof changing pads

White long-sleeve onesies

Cloth diapers for burp cloths

Little Brother onesie

Gymboree spree


Small diaper bag

~Bear bath sponge (a gift from Shinny...thank you sweetie!)
~Extra wide baby gate (Perfect doggy gate to contain the herd)
~Jumperoo (I got a great deal on Amazon.com...with free shipping)
~Breastpump
~Lansinoh
~Playtex drop-ins bottles & liners

Things I still need/want:
~Baby K'tan
~Mobile to match nursery/bedding set
~Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Aquarium
~Glider & ottoman (Of course, I'm kidding. I'll probably get this one.
~Playard
~Nursing bras
~Flannel pajama pants (for me)

Dear Secret Pal

If you're still trying to find something for me...I would LOVE LOVE LOVE this pattern.

And no, subtlety is not my strong suit.

Bad Daddy

So I have to give equal time to my husband's parenting (mis)adventures...because they make me giggle.

Yesterday, Steve forgot to make Sam a lunch for daycare. This packing a lunch thing is relatively new for us, as Sam's daycare used to provide meals every day, no charge. Now, you have to decide which days you want your child to buy lunch from them, and prepay two dollars per meal for the entire month. Yesterday was not a day Sam had prepaid for. And though neither of us could remember the exact policy, we were SURE Sam would not go hungry for the day (as was our consensus on the telephone when I discovered Sam's empty lunchbox on the kitchen counter early in the morning).

Steve walked Sam into daycare and explained to Miss T that he had forgotten to pack Sam a lunch and would she please see that he was taken care of at mealtime. No problem. Well, apparently, our overly dramatic son decided to use mealtime as his stage. When lunchtime rolled around, he burst into tears and a…

The sensitivity is horrifying

NC had her D&C yesterday...and came into work today. Since she didn't know she was pregnant...she "wasn't really attached" to the idea...and seems to be doing ok (she was laughing because she said it felt like they were all waiting for her to fall apart and she just didn't feel like she needed to). I hope that isn't just denial talking.

She had unusual bleeding for the last day and a half and that's why she went to the doctor. When they did the ultrasound to "check things out," they discovered she was 11 weeks pregnant but there was no fetal activity. On the advice of her doctor, she opted for the D&C rather than wait it out because she was bleeding so badly.

First, they put her in L&D where she could hear all the happy baby sounds. Though they did put her off in "the room they use for these things."

Then, they did her admission paperwork and asked the standard questions, "How many pregnancies?" This is her second. …

Sometimes I hate email

I was late logging into my office email this morning. When I did, this is what I found...

NC just called in. She has to have surgery today - she was apparently pregnant and must have a D&C now. She was upset and I couldn't/wouldn't ask for details. She said she might be in tomorrow - - I told her to just take care of herself, don't worry about it.

Sometimes I hate email.

Simply beautiful

Check out his MySpace page, where Craig Cardiff has his original song, Smallest Wingless, that was written for Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep infant bereavement photography.

We closed the curtains...
and held each other...

...and cried.

We said hello at the same time we said goodbye.

Thank you to Craig, for this simply beautiful gift. We are honored that you care enough to lend your talents to those of us who understand your lyrics too well.

The longest six minutes

8:29am
He didn't move on the way to work.
He normally shakes to the music on the radio
when I play it too loud.
And he's not moving now.
Isn't the morning dance about now?

8:31am
Sitting in the bathroom...crying...begging, "Please move."
Pressing shaking fingers into my belly.
Did I feel something
or was that my imagination?

8:32am
Drinking hot coffee and ice cold water.
You have to wake up.
I can't do this again.

8:33am
Unzipping pants and rubbing clammy skin.
I can't trust myself to know anything anymore.
I should have dopplered before I came to work
but I'm sure I felt something in the shower.
Or did I?

8:35am
Wake up...(jiggle)...wake up...(push)...wake up!
A slow slide across my belly.
My cautious smile.
A kick behind my belly button.
I'm sorry I woke you up.
But you have to learn...
you can't scare mommy like that.

TOB

Surgeon speak for "Thing of Beauty." That was our non-stress test today...a thing of beauty.

So why can't I just go with that and feel some sort of reassurance? Something other than impending doom?

Because I went shopping. Surely the universe can't handle all that optimism from me.

And I'm 29w3d. So close, yet so far.

And we have buried two babies who were perfect things of beauty until they weren't.

I think it's going to take more than a TOB to overcome this feeling...this fresh wave of grief.

Maybe some ice cream...

Genius, I tell you!

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Standing in Baby Depot, looking at pregnancy items (maternity belts, snuggle pillows, etc.), my son sees "the pregnancy wedge" and says, "You should buy me one of those as a ramp for my Lightning McQueen."

Always thinking outside of the box, I tell ya. I'm so proud.

Half a leap of faith

We went shopping.

Infant carrier - check
Stroller - check
Baby's First Christmas outfit - check
Bouncy seat - check
Swing -check
Cute little blue argyle sleep sac - check
Sleep positioner - check
Baby bath sponges - check
Cute little onesie that says, "Mommy's wakeup call" - check
Waterproof changing pads - check
White long-sleeve onesies - check
Cloth diapers for burp cloths - check

Nothing is to be removed from boxes or un-tagged.

But it's here.
In our house.
Waiting.

With all this hope floating around I feel slightly nauseous.

Some things are normal

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I haven't been to a high school football game in 17 years! YEARS, people! SEVENTEEN of them!

So what is drawing me in after all this time? My son, of course. He wants to see a real football game. And since I did such a crappy job getting him to a real baseball game this year (and it is too late and therefore too expensive to go now), I think this is a decent deal.

Of course, this old pregnant lady ain't actually been yet...ask me how I feel about the deal in a few hours after my ass is numb from sitting on a bleacher seat and I am partially deaf from the guy next to me yelling and...

Why am I doing this again?

Oh...right...my son. This should be fun. Right?
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It WAS so much fun! The man and woman sitting next to us were very nice and kept us updated on the Cleveland Indians playoff game (the man had a radio earphone in his ear). We ate pepperoni rolls and hot dogs and french fries...and I came home with the worst heartburn that was SO wort…

Don't worry your pretty little head

Health providers seem to agree that prenatal counseling is key. But some worry that all those "dos" and "don'ts" can overwhelm expectant moms, leaving them feeling conflicted, guilty and anxious.

This is exactly the kind of crap that makes me want to scream. Are we, as women, so incapable of handling our own health care that it is preferable to be ignorant? Are we weak and immature creatures who need protected? If you are overwhelmed by information about your pregnancy, I can only imagine how overwhelmed you're going to be by actually parenting a child!

But then again, I guess we shouldn't counsel moms and dads about childhood illnesses...we don't want to overwhelm them with information! I bet the insurance industry would love that approach. Or how about developmental milestones? I mean, it's better that they not worry and let little Johnny fall hopelessly behind before they get him some help.

Good grief!

Appointments--the long version

OK...so that last post was supposed to be saved as a draft until I could flush it out. I was on my way to Sam's soccer practice and didn't want to forget any of the relevant details...and apparently hit publish post by mistake. And you, you lovely internets, were so quick to post wonderful, kind and supportive comments that I just couldn't make the post disappear and have you wondering what the heck was going on. So here...now...today...and without further ado...I give you more of the story...in all its glory.

My ultrasound tech, as kind and lovely as she was, made the fatal mistake in the first two minutes upon entering the room. I had to hate her. I WISH WISH WISH they would teach these medical professionals that it is entirely inappropriate to say things to the patient like, "So, you have gestational diabetes, is that why we're having this ultrasound today?" I mean, seriously, look at the damn chart! It's all computerized. One, two, three keystrokes and…

28w3d---Still a boy

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Important details:
~Still a boy
~Frank breech
~3lbs 12ozs
~Reactive
~140 baseline
~"Generous" fluid (You are watching your sugars, right?)
~Had to re-tell the story and get the look of horror, fun times
~Midwife doesn't give ANY personal space
~Do I have any questions? About what?
~I talk too much and literally babble when I want to head off the tears.
~Last eight appointments scheduled (hopefully)

Moment of mommy panic

The other day, Sam asked me, "So how does the baby come out of your stomach?"

Uhh...

(complete blank)

I know what I was feeling...but what was I thinking?

Mexican lasagna?

Chili?

Have I lost my mind completely?

The comedy that is my life

I work in the civil division of the county prosecutor's office for my county. My clients include all elected officials, departments, agencies, commissions, boards, etc. One of my main clients is the county Health Department. I represent them in compliance cases...making citizens comply with the Health Code (which includes the solid waste regulation and sewer/plumbing codes).

Saturday's home mail delivery included a letter from the county Health Department informing me that my plumbing permit has expired and my home has not had the required final plumbing inspection as required by the Code.

My first reaction...well that's news to me. One would think that one's contractor would have that inspection done before leaving a job site. Apparently, this is an erroneous belief. The homeowner is actually responsible for said inspection. When I called my contractor and asked if he had had it done, he replied with, "Oh no, no, that's your responsibility." Thanks...it w…