Showing posts from April, 2010

Thank you Cynthia!


Miscellaneous Thoughts

It's Friday...time for a jumble of disconnected thoughts (seems to be all I have these days).

-My older child is obsessed with peeing in the great outdoors. It irritates me.

-I want to be a doctor. What other profession can you do virtually NOTHING, say, "Gee, I don't know," and still get paid THOUSANDS of dollars? I still love my doctor...but I can't help but wonder about this stuff.

-My insurance isn't too bad as far as dead baby ultrasounds go...only $38.

-We asked the bank to refinance in order to reduce our monthly house payment. They said no. We are seriously thinking there is a conspiracy going on. It would probably be good for the local bank to help Waste Management gain possession of our house at a rock-bottom we can't help but wonder...

-I want a haircut but can't bring myself to do it because I DREAD the hairdresser's idle chit-chat. I wonder how many people burst into tears in the chair?

-Our friend, Lady Cynthia, sent us a de…

Look who we found!

I guess I'm very sensitive to taking care of what is yours...because I was very upset to find this little dog running in the very busy road in front of our house...called it over and picked it right up even though it STUNK like POO!

Going quietly insane


You know what gets me? I didn't even want to be pregnant.

There...I said it.

I didn't want it because I'd made peace with the way things were. I was finally in a GOOD place and I didn't want to risk...



So now there's all this guilt. Even though I know it was just my freaky biology that is to blame, I feel like it's my fault for not wanting it enough (because I know that's all it takes is to want a baby badly enough for everything to be all unicorns and rainbows).


This morning my sweet Sam-a-lama told me it is "pretty embarassing when you kiss me in public," and I felt the earth shift. I laughed and kissed him anyway...and then I practically ran to the minivan-I-love-to-hate and had a very thorough cry.

The loss of Little Bug means more somehow because it is not that surprise ending we hoped we were getting where the universe miraculously regained some sort o…

Welcome to the world Baby Coccinelle

I hope I'm not spoiling any surprises by posting...but I like to share good news...

Congratulations to Rosepetal and the entire family on the safe arrival of Baby Coccinelle!

On fairness and being fine

Today, April 27th, I managed to perform in four court cases without any tears...even when asked how my family is doing. Progress.

It hardly seems like any time passed between December 23rd and April 7th. And then today, I took the phone call from Dr. A's office asking me what days Steve needed FMLA. Shit, I was 19 weeks pregnant at this time just three weeks ago! I can't even really remember it. And then I go to bed and my mind wanders and it all comes flooding back...and I feel like I could die. Except I know I can't because there are three other people (I love more than life itself) who rely on me...and I would NEVER intentionally do ANYTHING that would make them sad or hurt. But still...

How am I supposed to do this? Nobody can tell me. I desperately want them to tell take it out of my control again. It only seems fair. If the dead baby part of it was out of my control, then the healing part of it should be taken care of as well (call it simple courtesy).

But there…


A little more than two weeks after, I finally read the comments from "that day" (yes, I cried...hard).

Thank you to everyone who took the time.

One question though...what is LFCA???
ah ha! got it! LFCA

It's been a while since I frequented certain websites...for a lot of reasons. Thanks to them for sticking with me even when I couldn't stick with them.

Thank you Catherine!

The scarf is absolutely GORGEOUS (even if I did have to take a dozen different photos in order for it to not look like it's draped over a big fat blob)! Thank you SO much!

(I will post pictures of Sam and his geodes whenever we smash them open.)

Don't know what to say? Croak

Actual email exchange with the lady in the office next door to mine...

T: “rrrrrriiiiiiiiiibbit”

Me: ???

T: I don’t know what to say to you in my human voice right now but I wanted to say something so I’ve decided to be a frog “ribbit ribbit”

Me: You’re weird. Sweet…but weird.

T: *slimy green hugs*

The truth hurts (warning: graphic post)

I have been inspired by Niobe to verbalize some awful truths about myself. I have been thinking about it for over a year now...have tiptoed around it...but haven't really put it into words for anyone but my husband.

When Alex died, I was devastated. But looking back on it now, I can see that it was more shock and emptiness than it was grief over an actual child. I knew very little about him as a person so I didn't have personality characteristics to miss. Yes, there were memories of him...but they were all tied to the big P...pregnancy. There was no independent memories of him. I did not mourn HIM so much as I mourned the lost dreams I had FOR him. I remember the doctor's visit, the ride to my parent's house, the ride to the hospital and all the little steps toward letting go of those dreams. And with each step, I didn't mourn for Alex as much (if at all) as I mourned for me and Steve and Sam.

I also suffered from extreme shock. Things like stillbirth do…


Dana Klein at Portraits by Dana did the portraits of my boys from (awful) hospital photos.

One of those days

Yesterday, the bleeding seemed to have stopped.

Didn't sleep well...even with the Ambien.

Had a charlie horse/blood clot in my calf sometime last night and momentarily forgot (have ONLY ever had a charlie horse while pregnant).

Woke up feeling cheated...and sad...always so fucking sad.

Dealt with a "want go car" screaming fit from the two-year-old because he refused to put his diaper on and therefore could not go. At one point, actually said, "we don't always get what we want, kiddo."

The bleeding started again during doughnuts and coffee.

Steve stored the maternity clothes in a tub in the basement for me because I couldn't face them (took two weeks to get them washed for said storage). I actually asked him to douse them in gasoline and light them on fire, but he refused.

William, the cartoon pig on NickJr, says, "If your mom is having a baby and she asks you whether you want a brother or sister, that does not mean you're really going to get the kin…

As if it were meant to be

I actually haven't had a wallet in a long time. I've been walking around with a little zippered change purse and a badge/credit card holder (I have an official badge as an assistant prosecutor...which sounds cooler than it is). But when I waw this wallet yesterday, I HAD to have it...

Peace and Love

Rockin' it out!


The "perfect" thank-you notes


Because she's awesome like that

Thanks Kathy...I love it and I love you.

Goodbye Cass

An "internet friend," Cass, died unexpectedly yesterday. She was 31 years old...and eight weeks pregnant.

She was an amazing woman and I will miss her very much.

All my love goes out to Greg and their furbabies.

Later tater

I think I just need to be quiet for a while.


Today's moment of levity

Brought to you directly from recess with Sam...
"We were playing toilet tag and ya know what? There were two people who were cheating."
Sam: "Now, mom, don't tell anyone in my class, ok? But I think Nate LIKES Naya."

Me: "Oh really, how do you know that?"

Sam: "Because Naya told me so."

Me: "And does Naya like Nate back?"

Sam: "(laughing) No, I think she thinks it's pretty annoying."

More lovely

There exists such kindness all around us...


Let the jealousy and self-loathing begin

I was here and here. I was in that place where it felt weird, but I could honestly say it was just another of my longer a gaping wound.

And, with everything in my being, I want to be back there again.

A friend nailed it on the head when she said, "You know, you've been here before and probably expect yourself to be an expert at this grieving business, but having been there before doesn't make it easier or quicker, does it? Maybe it makes it harder to wait for the "good" days you know will eventually come?"

Honestly, it IS harder because I can't stop thinking...WHAT was I thinking? But if I'm honest, I have to admit that I did it to myself. I walked into oncoming traffic with my eyes wide open and just my crossed fingers to protect me. I didn't realistically consider how I would handle it if the baby actually died. I foolishly believed it couldn't happen...not to us...not AGAIN. I'd paid my dues and I was all set for balance to b…


I just stumbled on this this morning...


Just look up

I was feeling particularly sorry for myself when I heard the rumble of the lawn tractor. I looked out my window to see this...(I think I have a similar photo of Sam when he was about the same age.)

Too much, too soon

Here comes one of those excessively whiney posts I hate to write...but I have to get it out somewhere or my head may explode (though, I'm in a much better place this morning after a good ambien-induced dreamless sleep than I was yesterday). I guess it's my own fault for having forgotten that "normal" days are no longer possible. I'd forgotten that this grief monster has the ability to ruin even a simple trip to buy shoes and I have to readjust my thinking to a "new normal."

My goals were small...shoe shopping to buy baseball shoes for Sam...pick up sushi at the grocery store...come home and eat the sushi with my mom (who was supplying wine)...ambien for dessert. I had sucked up my pride the night before and emailed Dr. A. to call in a prescription for me. Right there, I should have known things weren't destined to go well...but I had high hopes.

It started when we swung through the pharmacy drive-thru and were informed that the insurance was "dow…

Go Dodgers!


Nowhere to go but up

When you're at the bottom of a pit, the best thing you can do is look upward toward the sky. Hopefully, there's sunshine up there and you don't get rain up your nose, right?

So I've been contemplating what to do with this blog. How many rounds of woe-is-me can I really write about? I think even I have reached my limit.

I've reviewed the blogs I like to READ...and they all seem to have something in common...they are all insanely positive. How's that for an unexpected surprise, huh? They all highlight small bits of life (often in photos) and make me slow down and take it in...minute by minute.

I think I'm going to give it a try here...if for nothing else than to try to focus my brain on something/anything good in every single day. Sure, I'm sure there will still be a lot of retread grief's my way of working through the grieving process. But maybe I won't want to slit my wrists if I just TRY to balance it with something positive.

Right now…

Dear hospital:

I would gladly keep my appointment scheduled for this coming week...if I only had a reason.

May I make a suggestion? Perhaps automated appointment reminders aren't the best idea? Or maybe just have a real person go through them before they're shipped out...just to check and see if anyone has died or otherwise no longer needs a scheduled appointment?

(I'm rather sad to see that we had this go 'round a few years ago and you still haven't changed.)

Dear Universe...very funny!

If the baby had survived, I'd have been able to feed it.

Good to know.

One week

Today was, by far, the hardest day so far. A week ago I knew. I just knew. And now here we are with seven-year-old life slowly creeping back runs (complete with a lady with a little baby standing at the door...making me silently scream inside my head), baseball practice, cub scouts. And I don't want to do any of it.

I want to sit...and cry...and then stare at a blank wall...and then cry some more. Oh, I have spurts of energy where I do a load of laundry or mop the floor or straighten things up...but it all takes so much energy. I still can't go up and down our stairs without feeling winded. The walk across the street from the car to the school just about wore me out.

Then there's the belly. There aren't big enough clothes to sufficiently hide the 19week-lost-pregnancy bulge (and it really is too warm to wear my winter coat). It mocks me...all big and round as if there is still life there (and can we talk about how to stop the phantom kicks?). What a giant c…

The in-between time

This time in-between the horrible and the sucks. It's better, clearly, than dealing with the actual physical loss of a pregnancy/baby (the hospital memories from this one will haunt me for a very long time). No, it's the time in-between...when you're not strong enough to go back to your life...but you no longer have a direction or a place to be. Adrift, I guess, is a good word to describe it, though I'm sure the experts would call it a "necessary grieving period," or something excessively clinical.


You know what you actually do during these days?

You wake up to antibiotics and painkillers...
rush your kids out the door wearing dirty pants...
feed them chocolate donuts in the car...
drop them at school and daycare...
go to the funeral home and sign paperwork to have your baby cremated...
hear the funeral director trip over the word "baby" and opt for the awkward safety of "fetus"...
see the tiny marble u…

This time is different

I fear I may not make it this time.

There are the regular doubts and regrets, of course...

I missed a Lovenox injection.
I ate too much fast food.
I didn't take my prenatals faithfully.
I didn't exercise enough.
I stressed too much.
I worried about the financial burden another child would put on us.

But there things about this that make Alex and Travis' stillbirths seem like the good 'ole days. Most significant, I think, is that this is the way it all ends. It is over. There will never be the hope and promise of another baby in our home.

Someone once told me, when I was considering the idea of another child (who would turn out be Alex), "You will just know when your family is complete." In that moment, it was as simple as that...I knew our family wasn't complete and the decision was made.

The utter shit of it is...I still know our family isn't complete. The only difference is, in this moment, I know our family will never be complete.

It's not that the…

Email is great

I think the email to Sam's teacher can only be topped by the email to Dr. A...who so kindly visited me in the hospital on his time off, called me personally (though I ducked his call at the time), and left a voicemail with his personal cell phone number just in case I "want to talk"...
Dr. A~

Thank you for the phone call. I hope you understand that I just can't talk right now. Maybe in a few days...though I'm not entirely sure what there is to say anymore.

Thank you for everything.

And his response...
I know, Catherine--- I, too, don't know what to say.
Please call me if you need to talk.

Guess that about sums it up.

I wonder...

I feel sick to my stomach. Was it the three margaritas I had last night that allowed me two full hours of uninterrupted dreamless sleep? Or was it the email I just had to send to Samuel's teacher?

Mrs. G.:

I am emailing because I find it's easier (for a lot of reasons)...I hope this is ok. This is very personal information, but I want to convey it so that maybe I can do the responsible parent thing and keep Samuel from falling through the cracks that threaten to swallow me up personally.

First, a little background. Generally, I would just vaguely allude to a "family emergency." But in this case, I think the details may be somewhat important. In May of 2005, just a couple weeks before Sam's third birthday, his brother was stillborn at 35 weeks. In May of 2006, just a couple weeks before Sam's fourth birthday, another brother was stillborn at 20 weeks. Just this past week/end, I lost another much-anticipated pregnancy at 19 weeks (Sam's birthday is more than …


There are some stories that are too awful to speak out loud. There are stories so horrifying that even the characters in the starring roles cannot fathom the depths of the hell from which they come. These are the stories we bury deep within ourselves so that we may spare loved ones and strangers alike from the nightmares we know will come in the midnight hour. These are the stories that we quietly weave into the fabric of our being...maybe making us seem a little different or making us just a little bit sad to outsiders. These are the stories that ultimately define who we are.

And so goes the story of our Little Bug.

There are a few simple things that we will share.


We have some amazing friends and family. We love you and we hope that we show you a fraction of the thanks and appreciation you deserve. We are so so so lucky to have you in our lives. Thank you for hoping with us during the last 19 weeks...for risking the heartbreak. Thank you for sharing your distractions with us …

No mercy here

Because I am apparently incapable of doing ANYTHING right...I have been here for two freaking days with NO progress induced. A discussion of "options" is forthcoming according to nurse Jessica.


And an honest note to Baby #5 (though probably not entirely deserved) didn't stick get the fuck out and let me go back to my life, ok? This isn't your space quit invading it and just leave.

Goodbye Little Bug

"Unfortunately, honey, the baby is no longer alive.". -Ultrasound doctor

More than me

I try to tell myself I am other things, besides pregnant. Mom. Wife. Attorney. Friend. Volunteer.

I tell myself I will still be those things if/when this pregnancy ends. I have a rich life...filled with love and happiness It doesn't all rest on the outcome of this biological function called gestation. What will be, will be...and I will still be me.

But I can't quite get there.

IT is always there. will I tell the boys? will Steve cope...again? want me to concentrate on this when there is so much else that is important?
Friend...I am incapable of being a good friend right now.
Volunteer...I'm TRYING...but I just can't concentrate on what you need from me.


Always...just...preparing for the end.

The fear and anxiety have kicked in during the last two days. No surprise there. Springtime sunshine. Holiday weekend. 19 weeks. Ultrasound on Thursday morning. Expectations that it all ought to crash down aroun…