Ha! Take that nurse Marilyn!

Never one to take no for an answer...

Dr A:

Marilyn called me Friday to tell me that my glucose test results were slightly high and I needed to do the three hour screen. Since I have the meter, etc., and already know the drill, can I skip the screen and just start testing my blood sugars at home? If so, what testing schedule should I use?

Thanks,
Catherine

Hi, Cathy,
That'll be fine---yes, please check your levels fasting in the morning; 2 hrs after breakfast/lunch/dinner; and at bedtime---we'll see how the numbers behave on your diet...
Hang in there,
Dr. A

So I win and nurse Marilyn loses! neener neener neener!

And here I was all worried

There are so many times I worry about what the last two years has done to Sam. Have we scarred him emotionally for life? Will he need counseling? Will he become a hermit in the woods of Montana writing his manifesto?

And then we have these moments that I begin to think all my worrying is for nothing.

He doesn't remember Rolie Polie Olie. For almost an entire year, that is the only show he would watch on Playhouse Disney. I bought him a stuffed Olie...and bowed to DEMANDS to replace him after one of the dogs chewed his antenna off.

Yesterday we were going through the trash bags of stuffed animals and happened upon Rolie Polie Olie and sister Zoey. Sam looked at them...then at me...then at them...then at me...totally blank. He had ZERO recognition of these characters who were so dear to him just a few short years ago. He didn't even know their names.

So now I'm left to wonder...would it be better if we let Alex and Travis fade away into the fog of childhood memories? Should we make less of an effort to keep their memories alive in our home? Maybe I am creating the very issues I was seeking to avoid?

I have, as of late, had my own feeling of needing to replace the photos and momentos of Alex and Travis...to put the memories away for safekeeping. Not all of them...but some of them. I know part of this is wanting so badly for GB to fill up some of those dark places with the light of hope and happiness. I know I would much rather see smiling photos of happy living children on my walls. I know that no amount of looking at the past will make things 'right.' Maybe by looking so much at the past I am missing out on the joy and anticipation of what lies ahead. Maybe I need to find a more balanced place for all of us. And maybe I worry too much about the wrong things...

Tonight I will pack up Rolie Polie Olie and sister Zoey in the cedar chest of memories. And maybe I will put a couple other things in there too.

Strange things you see at Wendy's

Yes...that is the Scooby Doo Mystery Machine.

Some day I hope to catch Herbie the Love Bug on camera too (he apparently lives around here somewhere).

If wishes were babies...

-----------------------------------------
My planned (large) diaper bag came in the mail today (my friend made it).
We went shopping and I bought baby clothes and a baby blanket and a (little) diaper bag.
We talked about the baby's name.
We talked about the future...we joked whether Sam would teach the baby to be cranky...especially when hungry.
We debated car seats and strollers and swings and bassinets...we planned which baby gear we will buy (most likely on the way home from the hospital).
-----------------------------------------
We've buried two babies we wanted very much.

Today at the mall we witnessed a woman say to her not-more-than-three-year-old son, "B!tch, if you don't hurry the f*ck up and get up here I'm going to beat your f*cking @ss."

Noticing that people were looking at her in horror, she followed up her loving proclamation with, "And other people should mind their own d@amn business if they don't f*cking like what I have to say."

Normally I would cry about the unfairness of my life.

Tonight, I cry for the unfairness of that little boy's life.
-----------------------------------------
If wishes were babies, our little GB will arrive healthy and perfect...without question.

And that little boy in the mall will grow up to be an amazing and wonderful man...DESPITE the woman who has so clearly not earned the right to be his mother.
-----------------------------------------

I forgot the best part!

I can't believe that in my retelling of my annoyances yesterday, I forgot the best part! I was talking to Marilyn the nurse on the telephone and told her I was concerned about waiting to do the 3 hour glucose tolerance test for a week, when I could be testing my blood sugars now. Do you know what she told me?

It is not urgent and I should try not to stress...think good thoughts...because stress isn't good for me or the baby!

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the medical professional told me to think good thoughts.

And do you know what I did? (This certainly tells me how far I've come in the past two years as a person.)

I told her that stress wasn't the issue. I told her that I lost my previous two babies due to "freak things that shouldn't happen." I told her that Alex died from a bacterial infection and Travis died from a viral infection. I told her that stress is the least of my worries and I didn't appreciate the advice to just think good thoughts because good thoughts weren't going to cut it because, at this point, I figure if the plague is out there, I will contract it. I told her that, for that matter, the implication that bad thoughts hurt my past pregnancies is cruel and I didn't appreciate it. I was completely honest...without being rude. I hope she really heard me and never offers such a cliche to any other patient.

normal = 130 and 12

So I had an appointment yesterday. Nothing too exciting. Just little annoying things.

The nurse who is concerned that I haven't had a pap or chlamydia screen in more than a year. She wants to do this now? Uh...no. This is my weird infection phase...you aren't sticking anything up there now. Move along.

The med student with the overly enthusiastic attitude. "There's the heartbeat...can you hear it?" with a great big grin on her face. Uh...yeah. Now reassure me it will be there in ten minutes...tomorrow...Sunday. Can you do that? Then lose the damn smile and stop acting like this is cause for celebration. Do I mind if you measure my belly? Well, actually, yeah, I do.

The other med student who stood there awkwardly with a weird smile on his face. What's the matter? Never seen a freak before? Yeah, don't be too happy...that bugs me. Don't be too serious...that bugs me too. But what is that weird look you have? Fear? Don't worry, it's not catchy.

The doctor who admitted he sent the med students in to see us to get them out of his hair. I appreciate his honesty but next time I may have to strangle him.

The lab technician who literally shouted at me from down the hall to have a seat and someone will be right out. I just need the damn glucose drink. I don't need you for an hour. Wait! Stop! Listen! grrrrr....!!!!

And then today...the nurse (Marilyn) who called with my lab results but got my voicemail and couldn't leave the message except that we needed to speak...she would try my work number (I wasn't at work today...I was at a conference...hence, my inability to just answer my cell phone). I call back and get someone else...Marilyn is busy, can she call me back? I explain my unavailability until 4:30 and the receptionist suggests I call back then. I express that I'm a little concerned because Marilyn was calling with test results and made it sound important. What's my social? xxx-xx-xxxx. Oh, it's nothing urgent but I can call back at 4:30 and I will be put right through? You are obviously LOOKING AT my test results...can't YOU just TELL ME what it says? No? Ok...I'll call back. *sigh*

My blood glucose was 133...normal is 130 or less. My iron was 11.6...normal is 12 or above. Great. You want me to do the three hour? Can't I just skip it? I mean, I see where this is headed and I have the meter and all the supplies...can't I just pass on the test and treat myself as if I have gestational diabetes...record my numbers...and we'll go from there? No? OK (I'll email the doctor tomorrow to ask. I mean, really, we all know how this is going to go.)

Oh yeah...and the farrier called to cancel our appointment for this afternoon.

I've spent the day in a continuing legal education conference that was so irritating I was figuring the odds that someone would say, "This is bullshit," and walk out. Unfortunately, nobody did...but I could tell some really wanted to (including my boss).

It's 90+ degrees outside and I feel huge and hurty and very very cranky.

Anyone needs me, I don't care. I'll be eating ice cream in front of the tv (while I still can).

Missed opportunity?

She had it all figured out.

Now she's on bed-rest for contractions.

She's not due until October.

Maybe I should have said something.

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FINALLY a coherent response

I got this email from a friend (who I love dearly)...

Sorry to give unasked for advice, but here it comes. I can't help it. Before your next dr visit or ultrasound, please ask yourself what good does it do to stress myself out and worry over something that may never happen? If something bad is going to happen, it is going to happen regardless of whether you worry and stress about it. And if you go through this pregnancy and something wonderful happens, it is going to happen regardless of whether you worry and stress about it. The worry and stress is not going to prevent anything bad happening. Picture some medieval monk flogging himself. Realize that's pretty much what you're doing to yourself. Once you realize the futility of flogging yourself, you will have the control to make yourself stop doing it. You, and you alone, are in control of it. This is going to be a long pregnancy, and you deserve only good things. This is a time to pamper yourself Catherine. It will take concentration to recognize the signs when you begin to get stressed, and it will take concentration to recognize it for what it is and then to abolish it. But you will be able to do it. There is simply no reason to allow it in your life right now. Think of it as an invading intruder that has crept into your family's home. You need to protect you and your family from this harm. Yes, Sam and Steve don't deserve to have you so worried and stressed either. I'm sure it effects them in a very negative way too. And of course your baby. So do it for them too. As a replacement, meditate on beautiful and fun things instead.

I took a deep breath and tried to explain it...and I finally have something I think makes sense. Two simple points...it's really not all that complicated once you've had time to sort it all out...

You know I love you. And I love unasked for advice. :o) But it’s just not as simple as not worrying. It really messes with your head, having a baby (or two) die inside of you. As a woman, you’re raised to think it’s your job to protect your children (if you become a mother). And over time, as your children grow, you learn that you can’t protect them from everything this world will throw at them. But the ONE thing you never really consider is that your own body will betray you in your effort to keep your children safe. You never think that it will be YOUR failure that will kill your child. Yes, I know there is nothing I can do to control it. Trust me, I’ve learned that in spades. But there is more than just fear…there is guilt and doubt and all sorts of other things that you can’t help but feel when you are the one and only thing keeping a baby alive.

And then there is Sam. You say there is no reason to allow the fear into our lives…but there is. You see, nobody knows, unless they have lived it, what it is like to tell a child that their brothers died before they were even born. At five years old he has learned more than I had to learn in THIRTY years. And as his mother, I can’t help but feel anger at how unfair it is…and I can’t help but want to protect him from more disappointment and heartbreak. See, while other people are planning what to buy their new baby, I’m planning what to say to Sam if things go wrong again. While people talk about what will happen when the new baby comes…we have to talk about IF the new baby comes. We have to. I have to. Because that’s my job as his mother. And while I would love to be all sunshine and roses with Sam, I have to always remember that that isn’t reality for us…that we have to remember that our risks are different than everyone else’s and that there is a possibility that this won’t work out. And while I find that so incredibly difficult to prepare myself for, I also have to prepare my Samuel. Because that’s my job. I’m his mother. And I would be doing him a disservice if I just smiled and pretended like everything was guaranteed to be ok. I can’t and I won’t set him up for that heartbreak ever again. It’s not about fear. It’s about reality. Yes, it’s harsh reality. But it is OUR reality and we can’t ignore it. So if that means a few sleepless nights before doctor appointments, then so be it.

Don’t think it’s all bad. We have allowed ourselves to hope. We have purchased baby clothes (and left the tags on). We talk about what fun it will be if the baby comes home to live with us. We do think about the good things. Just because our perspective is different than everyone else’s, doesn’t mean we’re incapable of feeling the potential and the happiness…it just means we’re realistic about it.

Soren Luther

My friend's sister's baby died today.
She was 7 months pregnant.
His name is Soren Luther.

Complete meltdown (everything is ok)

I have worried. I have been nervous. I have lost sleep. But last night was the first time I had "that feeling." And no amount of talking myself out of it was going to convince my brain that it was just the "flashback effect"...the remembering of what happened after our last ultrasound last year.

So I snuck downstairs in the dark while my husband and son slept and dopplered my belly. I almost vomited on the way down to the silent living room. The tears formed but wouldn't fall from my eyes. My heart raced and I suddenly started to shake. My skin was cold and clammy. I quietly begged God. Yes, this would be the ideal way to find out my baby is dead...in the dark silence of my own home instead of the sterile brightness of an examination room somewhere...alone...without any strangers giving me that damn sympathetic look that makes me want to scream.

I dopplered and found the heartbeat right away. GB gave me a swift kick for my efforts, as if to say, "Hey, I'm trying to sleep, would ya knock it off?" I sat in the darkness and tried to talk my heart rate into slowing. I contemplated staying put in the chair all night (my back/shoulder have been bothering me the last couple of days so sleeping is not quite as comfortable as it could be), but I decided against it because I couldn't let Steve wake in the morning to find me sitting in the chair with the doppler beside me (yet somehow it's better he read this blog entry...I know...I don't make any sense). So I gathered up the doppler, crept back upstairs, and feeling temporarily reassured, fell into a deep sleep. I don't think Steve noticed. I know Sam was still sound asleep. This was my own personal little freakout.

The thing about this is...
When both boys died...I knew. I had this feeling that "something wasn't right." And now I can't even trust that feeling anymore. Now I not only get to worry, but I get to worry that this baby will die and I won't even know. When I get that feeling now, I know it might not be an indication that something bad has happened...but only and indication of my overactive imagination. Great. Just great.

I may have to skip weekends. They come without the benefit of my office chair...which is apparently just the right ergonomic setup to feel this kid wiggle and jiggle (as he's doing right now). Or maybe I could take my office chair home with me on the weekends. Now there's an idea!

Not so convincing

Even when I try to think positive, the negative thoughts are stronger.

We bought the baby a sleeper at WalMart last night. We looked at carseats and swings in the store and online this morning. But this afternoon I thought something was wrong. I've dopplered and everything is fine, but that doesn't seem to convince my heart.

Positive and negative. Yin and yang.

I know part of this is because of the relation to the ultrasound. Last year we had our ultrasound and four days later the baby was dead. This isn't last year...I know that. This isn't that baby...I know that too.

Sam talks about teaching the baby things...playing with him...being a big brother. This morning I told him we need to tell my belly that the baby isn't allowed to die. Good grief.

I don't want to tell people these things. I don't want to admit that I'm not as strong as everyone wants me to be.

But there it is.

I wonder if I fooled them. I almost fooled myself for a while.

ultrasound pics

In the original ultrasound update.

Just a few miscellaneous thoughts

---------------------------------------
Never...and I mean NEVER...eat a whole bag of baby carrots. No matter how good they taste and no matter how hungry you are. Trust me.
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I apologize to my brother-in-law. I still have his birthday card/gift here. His birthday was the 11th. Yeah...I suck.
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We told Sam the baby is a boy. Think he was excited?

(photo removed)

He said, "I've been wishing every day that it was a boy." awwwwwww...
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My husband is still alive and we're not moving to Georgia.
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After rejecting his proposal to name the new baby "Go Diego Go," Sam has become much more reasonable. I think we may have a name. We're not SURE (well...I'M not SURE...Steve and Sam are ready to monogram this kid's towels already), so we're keeping it a secret for a bit.
---------------------------------------
No matter what you may think, it is not cool to see a bat flying around in Drug Mart while you are trying to shop for hand soap.
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My mom DOES have a tough streak. She should use it more often on people who deserve it.
---------------------------------------
Where there is one flea there are thousands. Crap.
---------------------------------------
The big case I was trying to settle? The plaintiff who is suing us filed for a continuance because he has to enter the hospital for "a serious malignancy." Now, I don't like the guy, but I don't wish that on anyone. I hope his treatment is successful and he can get back to making my (work) life miserable.
---------------------------------------
Kenny Lofton is back in Cleveland! Yes!
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Thank you Shinny!

I cried. That's all you need to know. Thank you so much! You are so sweet and I love you.

Now...boy or girl for you?

4/4

Weighing in at 11ozs. Measuring spot on for dates (18w5d for those keeping score at home). Everything looks good...No concerns at all.

Another boy!!! Sam will be thrilled. (And it's a good thing ya'll aren't professional odds-makers.)

The plan is to get steroid shots at 24 weeks and deliver at 35/36/37 weeks (as soon as possible). So we're talking probably sometime around Thanksgiving.

Steve and I are happy. Nervous...but happy.

For me...gained one pound (that's total so far...I'm pretty impressed with myself). BP after u/s (we didn't dare take it before) = 120/70 (normal for me). Back for another appointment next Wednesday morning.

(yeah, yeah, yeah...so I tried to type in a hurry and messed up the dates. I had a PUBLIC to answer to. LOL! Thanks Bon!)

Moving on...

All this introspection is tiring...or is it tiresome? Either way...time to let that particular dead horse rest in peace.

Thursday...9am...big ultrasound.

GULP!

Did you know?

Did you know that cats eat pepperoni?

Possible explosion

My stomach may just burst with all the food I've eaten tonight.

And yet, I still want more ice cream.

Me? Angry?

I worry that you are so focused on getting angry at God and maybe that anger is misdirected.

It's funny that this should come up.

When I read this comment the first time, I was perplexed...shocked. Me? Angry at God?

And then I realized...I'm not. I'm not angry with God anymore. I am...I don't know...ambivalent about God right now. No, ambivalent isn't quite right. I'm working certainly working on my own personal conceptualization of God...what I believe...without anger. I think it is BECAUSE I am re-conceptualizing God for myself that I am able to let go of the anger. I can't believe what I always believed about God...not now. And maybe I always had a juvenile view of God. Maybe we all do until we are forced to REALLY examine what we believe and why we believe it. Maybe my confusion all stems from my own ignorance on the topic. But I don't think so.

I do have anger. But it is no longer about finding fault...finding a reason...finding the why. It just is what it is.

But I do still have anger. I will admit that. Lately my anger is reserved for those people who, from the outside looking in, are able to so easily find fault or a reason or the why. People seem to find it easy to tell you how to make it all better. If it were that easy, don't ya think I'd do it your way?

It's kind of like the same old argument my husband and I fall back into on a routine basis...I KNOW what my problem is...I KNOW what the possible solutions are...what I need is for you to LISTEN to me work it out ON MY OWN. Nothing is more infuriating to me than having someone listen to you for two seconds only to tell you how to "fix" your problem...as though you are too ignorant to see the obvious solution staring you in the face. There is value (to me) in the PROCESS of all problem-solving.

And there is value to me in finding my own path to God (or whatever I end up with). The comments here on this blog have been immensely helpful in my realization of this...as have emails with people (with all sorts of different faiths). But the fact remains that when someone so easily sums up God (in what seems like twenty words or less)...I feel frustrated and cheated because I'm not being heard...because the process is being short-circuited for me...because I'm feeling like it should be so easy and I'm just too stupid to "get it" as easily as the next person. And THAT is where my anger still is.

God is complicated for me. It does me no good to have someone look at me like I'm dumb and tell me how easy it is for them. In fact, I find myself walking away from any and all conversations about God because people interpret and advise so freely without really putting themselves inside my head...inside my life. And then I find myself all constipated with thoughts and feelings about God and eternity and all that jazz...and nowhere to go with them. So I come here. Aren't you so glad?

So yeah...not angry at God. Just think people don't get where I'm coming from. It's easy for them and I'm glad for them. But it's not easy for me. I don't think it will ever be easy for me again.

And so there are no misunderstandings...this is not directed at anyone in particular (here or anywhere else). It is a generalization of my two years walking down this path...and how my feelings have evolved. It is my own personal self analysis...I'm not attempting to blame anyone outside of myself or condemn anyone for anything they might believe. I'm trying to figure myself out...why do I react the way I do at particular situations/comments/thoughts?

Any and all comments are welcome on this blog. Please don't ever be afraid of commenting because you might piss me off. Getting good and pissed off has, more often than not, lead to some pretty darn insightful conversations for me. As long as people are respectful with me, I will try to be the same. Doesn't mean I'll agree with you...but who knows...stranger things have happened.

Allow me to be clear (again)

When I posted my original thoughts on God a couple days ago, I was only explaining what I have come to learn about my own visceral reaction to the words "God has a plan" or "it wasn't meant to be." It was, in no way, intended to be a blanket statement/philosophy for anyone to "buy into." This blog is not about guiding anyone else...or telling anyone what is right or wrong. It is only about recording MY thoughts (on anything and everything).

Personally, I get very angry when I hear those words...almost to the point of physical illness. It has taken me a long time to figure out (for myself) exactly WHY I have that reaction. Perhaps I do over-analyze. I know that I am losing friends over my reactions (a fact that I recognize and fully accept responsibility for). But I also recognize that I cannot control my reactions unless/until I understand where they come from...what causes them. That was all I was trying to get out there...in my own words...for myself.

If you believe that God has a plan...that's great for you. I hope that your faith brings you the peace that seems so elusive to me. This is one thing I'm having a hard time with. So let me be self-indulgent a little bit and work through it on my own.

I would like to publicly apologize to anyone I have offended. I'm sorry.

Why are you under the impression that when people say what they say, they're implying your losses were some kind of punishment from god?

I did not say punishment...I said judgment.

"God has a plan" implies that where I was headed (with my pregnancies with Alex and Travis) was somehow NOT according to God's plan...and now I am headed in the right direction.

Somehow everything is now as it is "meant to be"...now that my babies are dead.

My babies being dead is "better" than being alive because it is according to some grand plan.

There is implied judgment there.

No?

Cantaloupe and other miscellaneous thoughts

--------------------------------------
I logged into my pregnancy calendar Thursday and was informed that my uterus is now the size of a cantaloupe. Maybe that explains my hunger the past few days for all things fruit. It also explains why it's getting a bit more uncomfortable to walk long distances.
--------------------------------------
My dear friend sent me a present of pickles and ice cream. I'm not kidding. A Dairy Queen gift card inside an ice cream sundae greeting card...and a jar of gherkins. She said it is proof that there is a fine line between genius and madness.

She also sent me a couple little baby gifts. And gummy bears that Sam did not see the meaning in and promptly asked to eat. :o)

Thank you again Cynthia!
--------------------------------------
Apparently my "news" is out now despite my having told only one or two people. If I have to answer "How are you doing?" every day I may just go mad.
--------------------------------------
I am putting together a baby registry (deep breath) and have discovered that there is, in fact, a plug-in baby swing. This will save us a small fortune in batteries.
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Am I the only one who thinks it odd that Katie Holmes was photographed in NYC this week wearing a trench coat? The temperature is mild for this time of year, but it's certainly not trench coat weather.
--------------------------------------
After more than a week of not having anything to read online, I have discovered that my Bloglines was not working properly. People were updating their blogs...I just didn't know it. argh!
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In my humble opinion, it is not faith if you believe it out of fear.
--------------------------------------
I may settle a big case at work. Keep your fingers crossed for me. It would be a BIG accomplishment (we're talking RAISE type accomplishment).
--------------------------------------
My OB's office called as "a courtesy" to let me know that Dr. A will be out of the office this week due to a family emergency, but the midwife would be available. What that would mean for me...I would have to tell my story yet AGAIN to another stranger in exchange for a blood pressure check, belly measurement, and Doppler check. It ain't worth the stress in my opinion, so I canceled. I can do all those things at home if I want...and not have to deal with "the look." Next Thursday is the big ultrasound.
--------------------------------------
I made a client cry earlier this week. I apologized for coming off as callous and/or rude, but still...I hate that I made her cry. Sometimes I have a hard time balancing the lawyer side of me with the human side of me. I really need to work on that.
--------------------------------------
There is another hole in my household where "my" dog used to be. Perspective tells me that he was just a dog. But my heart and my memories tell me that he was more than that and it's going to take a while to stop missing him.

And then of course there is the old standby guilty feeling plaguing my days and nights (either that, or pregnancy insomnia has kicked in big time). Did I spend enough quality time with Isaac? Was his life a happy enough one? I know I could have done more for/with him. Did he know I loved him?
--------------------------------------
I bought THREE things for the baby. A blanket and two sleepers. (deep breath)
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We had a lovely time celebrating my mom's birthday on Sunday. We went to one of the local metroparks where they have a fabulous train display on exhibit this summer. Sam's little head just about exploded with the sheer excitement of it all. Pictures will follow sometime...as soon as I figure out the cheap way to get them off my camera phone (I forgot the real camera at home).
--------------------------------------
Why is it so easy for human beings to be dismissive?
--------------------------------------
I have honed in on something that I have been contemplating for a while. Why does it bother me so much that people say, "God has a plan," or, "It wasn't part of the plan," or, "It wasn't meant to be." And I think I've stumbled onto something big...for me anyway.

People may very well believe what they say. And when they said these things to me, in the midst of raw grief, there was a definite inference that what I was doing was somehow "wrong" according to, not only the person saying it, but according to some higher power. So my pregnancies with Alex and Travis were deemed mistakes...against the plan...just plain wrong. People want to offer hope...that there is some reason for all the madness...I get that. But what I think they miss is that that particular message of hope is the message that says, "You were walking down the wrong path in the first place so God had to kill your babies to get your attention." The weight of that message is unbearable (and doubtful in my humble opinion) at ANY time...let alone when you are in those intense days of mourning.

And for me, it's a bit more because I have always lived my life in fear of judgment. I do all the right things not because they are the right things, but because I'm afraid of the "punishment" if I break the rules. The guilt associated with God's plan...well...I just can't buy into it.

But I've been thinking about what I do believe. And this post by my dear friend, Holley, comes pretty close to what I think and feel these days. I'm sure there's more, but I'm not even going to try to put it into words right now.
--------------------------------------
Thanks to Walmart.com, I was able to get my son a compromise bicycle helmet...Lightning McQueen. He still isn't convinced it's worth being five years old. So I'm looking for ideas for things to do as a "big kid" that he couldn't do as a three-year-old. Got any?
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I've been working on this for over a week. Time to post it before I forget again or something else gets in the way. But before I go, I wanted to say a big
Congratulations!!!
to msfitzita
--------------------------------------

Mom school

There are some lessons I think should be taught in a special school for moms. Because, quite frankly, some of this on-the-job-training sucks.

Monday was supposed to be a special day for Sam and Steve. Father-son bonding time. They had the whole day planned and had been talking about it for weeks (mostly to help alleviate the fear of the pediatrician Sam would be seeing at 4:30 Monday afternoon). Steve was going to pick Sam up before naptime. Sam had specific instructions not to eat lunch, because Steve would take him out to McDonalds. Just the two of them. Then they would hang out during the early part of the afternoon and head to the pediatrician in time for Sam's appointment (where he was going to get ONE shot).

Then Isaac got sick and decisions were made and plans had to change.

Instead of the day that he was looking forward to, Sam had to spend the morning saying goodbye to the dog, the early afternoon listening to a crying mommy, lunchtime eating lunch with both somewhat shell-shocked parents, the middle of the afternoon listening to his father cuss as he installed the flooring transition strip between the living room and what will some day be the dining room, the later afternoon at the pediatrician getting THREE shots, dinnertime visiting the McDonalds playland with the incessant buzzing from the lights that drove us all mad and, I believe, eventually pushed us over the edge so that we all went home with surly attitudes.

So I, being the completely enlightened mommy with more than my share of experience seeing Sam's childhood reactions to shock and mourning, expected some grief behaviors. But this is more than even I can take.

Monday afternoon, during the transition strip install, Sam took a potty break during which he started bawling hysterically about a balloon he had lost THE DAY BEFORE during our trip to the metroparks for grandma's birthday. He was seriously inconsolable.

Tuesday at daycare he apparently refused to let go of his stuffed anteater (which has, ironically enough, the same coloring and fluffy texture as Isaac's fur).

Last night, while looking at some old photos on the computer screen saver, he starts crying and shouting that he doesn't want to be five anymore...he wants to be three...because being five is STUPID! He said he missed his race car bike helmet from when he was three (that he has outgrown and can no longer safely wear). Steve suspects he saw Isaac in the photos too.

During last night's freakout, I just held onto him and snuggled him and told him how sorry I was that he has had to say goodbye to so many important things during his short life...how I knew it was so unfair and that I wished I could make it all better.

I didn't sleep much last night thinking about how I'm supposed to handle all this. And the best I can come up with is that there should be some sort of mommy school that should teach this stuff. No wonder kids end up screwed up. How the hell am I supposed to figure this all out on my own? Practicing law is a hell of a lot less complicated and I had to go to school for three YEARS in order to do it. I'm not equipped for this!

I'm off to search for a race car bike helmet for my five-year-old. The least I can do is try to fix the things I actually CAN fix. Right?

Thank you!

Thank you to everyone who is contributing to my MOM Project effort...
Holley (special thanks for the plug on your blog)
Megan
Roberta
Darcie
Marcia
Jenne
Cecily
Mary
Selina
Michelle
Sherry
Stephanie

With your help, I was able to buy beads and findings, make these fifteen bracelets (with beads left over for more), ship them, AND still have a working cash balance for more! You are all awesome! I can't thank you enough.

(Sorry for the crappy picture...the camera phone is convenient but not high quality)

In loving memory

Our first baby
Isaac Ramone
November 1992 - July 2007
We love you sweet boy...run free and give the boys a kiss from us.

Paypal link is up!

And it works!

Thank you so much Princess Holley!

Shameless plea

I'm working my little fingers off trying to make free Mother's bracelets for the Memories of Mariam Project.

But here's the thing...I'm running out of beading supplies and we've got FOUR MONTHS of orders waiting to be filled.

Do you like to make bracelets? Would you consider donating your time?

Would you consider passing up that Starbucks for a week and donating five or ten dollars?

We're trying to make this free of charge to grieving moms. But it's getting harder and harder to do.

Sadly, as most of you know, there is a pretty large demand for pregnancy and infant loss memorial items. We simply can not keep up at this point in time.

Thanks.

**Edited to add***
You can send the money to me or to the project, whichever you feel most comfortable doing. If you send it to me, I can share what I do with it (which I always have fun doing). If you send it to the project, you can take a tax deduction as soon as we get our official non-profit status from the IRS (already have it from the state of Illinois).

Here is my reference page about wire and crimp beads. The rest is just generally creativity on your part. Usually, bracelets are 7-7.5 inches in length...though we do make some larger for those that request them.

I have also recently tried this style of bracelet. It's a bit more labor intensive, but the end result is nice. I use silver plated materials because you get a nice wear but not the expense of solid sterling.

I will email you ASAP with instructions on where to send completed bracelets.

THANK YOU!

**Edited to add**
I'm working on getting a Paypal button for my links list.
GOT IT! See it over there---------------->
(look up a little bit on the right)
Catherine's MOM Project bracelet fund.
Now, somebody try it and tell me if it works.

Worry

So today I'm wearing a Dividends maternity dress that gives my belly plenty of room (see yesterday's problem with pants). Trouble is, now my belly has lots of room. Without the squish factor, I don't feel GB moving around as much (if at all). gah! This is too hard!

I think it's time for bigger pants

I found the distinct imprint of my pants button on my belly when I was in the bathroom a few minutes ago. (And if I were a better blogger I would give you a photo...but I'm not...thank your lucky stars.) I think it's time to look for some bigger work pants.

Different shades of bitter

I just had a nice long talk with the "new" coworker in my office (I'll call her NC). She's been here over a year and I still learned something about her today that I didn't know.

NC has a three year old daughter who is absolutely precious. Perfect in every way...including her little attitude. When NC was six months pregnant, she was told that her baby had a one-vessel cord that was probably an indicator of Down's syndrome. She was advised to have an amnio and she consented. The amnio confirmed Down's syndrome. Yes, remember that bit up there where I said that she is PERFECT in every way...including her little attitude. She does NOT have Down's syndrome. She is healthy except for a small digestive system deformity that was corrected by surgery earlier this year.

Now HOW does that happen? NC says she suspects someone screwed up the test results somewhere. She says she feels bad because she is certain there is some mother out there who was expecting a healthy baby and ended up with a baby with Down's syndrome. Can you imagine?

But what fascinated me was being able to talk to her. Three months she visited a high risk doctor. Three months she lived in fear that her baby would die before birth. She listened as they prepared her for an extended NICU stay and her child's multiple health problems. She practically lived at various doctors' offices as she submitted to NST's and ultrasounds and "reassurance doppler checks." She didn't buy anything for the baby. She didn't set up a nursery. She lived her own version of "normal" as best she could, fully prepared to walk out of the hospital with empty arms. And in the end, she walked out of the hospital with a healthy baby girl.

Fully expecting her to tell me I am crazy, I asked her how it made her feel. I mean, after all, she has a happy and healthy child, right? So it shouldn't bother her to talk about pregnancy? To see pregnant women? To hear conversations about strollers and diapers? You know what? Three years later, she still is "bitter" toward happy shiny pregnancy talk (her word, not mine).

So how's that for a kick in the pants?!?! She got a healthy baby out of her ordeal and she's still less tolerant of the same things I'm less tolerant of...after three years! Her experience still provides her with a perspective that requires her to see the forest AND the trees. To be realistic...even if it means being the scary one in the room. She has an insider's view. And even though she came out on the "winning end," her attitudes and personality are still shaped by what she went through.

Now I feel...I don't know...somehow...justified. (I think I'm going to have to ask her if anybody has told her to get over it.)

She also said that her mother-in-law told her that the reason her daughter was "spared" was because of divine intervention. "God wouldn't do that to you." NC's response? "So God WOULD do that to someone else and their child? Why?"

Oh my gosh! She gets it! She doesn't have a dead baby...and she gets it! To me, she is an amazing find. A rare gem. Talking to her somehow lessened the headache I woke up with this morning after a night of dead-baby nightmares and fitful sleep. And when I told her that, she understood that too.

I guess bitter ain't so bad if you've got good company.

I can't believe I ate the whole thing

Good news Monday

My friends' baby had surgery last Tuesday and it went well. The doctors are optimistic for his future health.

My other friend had brain surgery Friday to remove a tumor. They got it out, there were no complications, and she is going home today.

As of yesterday morning, GB still had a nice strong heartbeat.

There is nothing better than good news to make me smile.

My name is Catherine and I'm a re-gifter

My house is filled with chachkies...crap, if you ask Steve. And while much of it has not seen the light of day since the great house renovation of 2006, it still lurks in boxes all around the house, singing the siren call of old habits to me...begging me to place them out on every available flat surface. I have, so far, resisted the urge. But I am left wondering what I am to do with all the boxes of...well...crap.

See, I have this problem. I attach emotional meaning to every single gift ever given to me. My memories are intricately tied to the items that sit on the mantle and the bookshelf and the coffee table and...et cetera...et cetera...et cetera.

There's the spun glass heart on the musical mirrored stand that was given to me by an eccentric friend of my mothers at my bridal shower. For the life of us, we can't even remember how she got invited in the first place. So that always makes me smile.

There's the charming white wicker garden tricycle that I'm sure was once used as a small planter...given to me by my crazy grandma one year in my Christmas bag of "crap." I have no idea why she thought I would like it and I have no idea why I like it since it is totally not my style. But there you have it.

There's the ugly vase that was given to Steve and I as a wedding gift by a widowed friend of Steve's family (who I have never met). When it arrived, it didn't have a gift receipt...just the actual receipt...and we were shocked to learn that he had spent $66 on this ugly vase. Who spends $66 on a vase? Of course, that was back when Steve and I could live off $66 for quite a while. So we keep it as a reminder...of what, I'm not sure.

But this morning I gave something away! As a gift. A re-gift. The someone I gave it to has no way of ever even meeting the person who gave it to me so I feel relatively safe in that regard. And the someone who gave me the gift in the first place apparently doesn't know me all that well, since the meaning behind the gift was a bit confusing and I was left feeling no real attachment to the item. No, I'm not going to say what it is or who it was from or who I gave it to. I am afraid I would be outed as a re-gifter and hurt someones feelings if I did that. It would have to take an elaborate game of telephone for the original gift giver to ever know, as I don't think she reads here...but I don't even want to risk hurting anyones feelings.

So this is me. Feeling relief at being able to confess. Feeling guilt at re-gifting. Feeling happy I was able to make someone smile with my re-gift (and clear out SOME of the crap). Feeling embarrassed because I did admit the re-gift status to him. All of this over one chachkie. Good grief. I think I better find some plastic storage bins to store the rest in. If I even attempt give them all away I just might have a complete mental breakdown. (No smart remarks about that Steve...I KNOW what you're thinking.)

I had a nice long photo post about our wonderfully relaxing weekend and Blogger would let me post the photos. Since the photo post loses something without the photos, I opted for this lame post. I heartily apologize.

Live Earth hilarity

I watched a very touching short movie about the production of steel...from charcoal...from rainforest lumber. It was fair in that it recognized the balancing act between the needs of the humans who rely on the production of these things for their lives (not livelihood...LIVES). It made me think.

It was followed by a commercial for the Infinity Razor...made with the same "carbon-injected steel technology used to make the sharpest knives."

Now, I'm no expert in these things, but a clean-shaven anything seems a small price to pay to help save our planet.

Way to go Universal HD! Great product placement!
-------------------------------------
Enrique Iglesias was just molested by some blond guy wearing red in the front row at the Hamburg show. The guy was seriously caressing him all over...stomach...thighs...butt. Not surprisingly, when they showed the front row again just shortly after, the blond guy wearing red was no longer in the front row.
-------------------------------------
I had a Take 6 CD a long long time ago. I wonder what ever happened to it.
-------------------------------------
Genesis looks old.
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Steve was thrilled to find that his buying iTunes is actually good for the environment.
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The sound is pretty good. And don't tell Steve, but the HD is really cool for watching this stuff.
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29. Alex Gerard (5/11/05) & Travis Leo (5/8/06) ~ We love you to the moon and back.

I can't believe I didn't post this earlier!

Back in May...Balloon #29 joined 149 others for Alex and Travis and too many other lost babies...from some friends in the UK.

Cleveland Grand Prix

Stillbirth news

Fifth Disease apparently doesn't always carry the long-term immunity that doctors once thought it did, said Joliet pediatrician Dr. Paul Aschinberg at Provena Saint Joseph Medical Center and Silver Cross Hospital, both in Joliet.

The Herald News

Still alive

Appointment went fine.
Gummy bear is still alive.
Steve asked if it was too early to determine gender and I said, "Hey, don't be so impatient. It's still alive...that's enough for now."
Big ultrasound scheduled for the 26th (not really looking forward to it for historical reasons).

I'm fine

Really. To everyone who has emailed and inquired, I am fine. I'm just not in a posting mood right now. I know it's odd, since I have posted pretty much every day for the last 2+ years, but I'm just no good at it right now. My friends' baby is having his heart procedure tomorrow and my other friend is having brain surgery on Friday. I can't or won't be reminded that bad things happen to good people...and being here reminds me...in spades. Call me naive or stupid. Whatever. I just can't deal with it right now.

What's been going on with us?

Last weekend we went to the Cleveland Grand Prix. Sam loved the race cars. I have many pictures to upload.

This past Saturday, I took Sam to his very first garage sale(s). After wrestling with the concept of shopping in other peoples' garages, he fell right into the routine and scored himself some fun toys. All in all, it wasn't bad entertainment for a total cost of $3.

I was offered salvation at one garage sale (happened to be in a church's "spare room"). It was funny and sad all at the same time.

Sunday had me craft shopping with my mom. I bought some beads for MOM Project bracelets. OK...OK...OK...I bought A LOT of beads for MOM Project bracelets. I apparently have a problem/obsession. lol. But there was a clearance sale and I got really good deals...so I can justify it, right?

Anyway...other than beading, I'm going to be whipping up a little sheath/underdress for this amazingly bright peasant/gypsy skirt Mom bought to wear for the medieval faire this year. We got some nice light yellow cotton broadcloth and it should take me a day or two to get it done (I love SEW EASY patterns). Now that I have room in my newly renovated house, I may even get working on the more formal gown Mom requested two or three years ago. I bet I could get it done in time to wear for the last weekend. We shall see...

I had a good time talking to my mom while we were out. I felt like the old me...the pre-dead-baby me.

Mom told me that my Aunt J was going to have a garage sale to get rid of Grandma's things...but she just ended up giving it away instead. I guess Aunt J is having a rough time with the anniversary of Grandma's death. I wish I could tell her it will get better. But none of us know that for sure, do we? My advice, in case Aunt J stops by and reads here...drink heavily for a few days.

Mom asked if I still have nightmares and I told her the truth. I no longer dream about the dead babies I have. I dream about potential future dead babies. Does anyone else feel like this is the same dance to a different tune?

So help me out...

If you were going in for brain surgery and were facing four weeks of recovery, what kind of little gifts would you like from your friends? I'm putting together a care package a la my friend, Cynthia...a package of little presents that can be opened when my friend feels like she needs a lift. So far, my list includes:
~Coffee & creamer & mug
~Teddy bear
~Candy
~Yarn & knitting needles a crochet hook & crochet book
~Magazines
~A book
~Handheld game Puzzle books
~Notecards & pen
~Bubble bath & a candle
~Pajamas
~A DVD Gift pass to Netflix
~A CD
~Flower seeds & a planter
~A manicure set

What else?

Tomorrow is another appointment...

I'm fine.

And still they speak

I thought we had heard it all.

And then Steve gets this one yesterday...

"I hope this one works out for you. You have been through so much. You both deserve this."

Steve asks me, "So, what? We didn't deserve the other two?"

And there was my awkward conversation at the pizza shop as I picked up my turkey, bacon and cheddar sub sandwich for lunch. I happened to be wearing an obvious maternity top at the time and this is a place that I go to at least once a week.

Lady: "I didn't know you were pregnant."

Me: "Yep."

Lady: "Is this your first?"

Me: "Nope.
(please let it drop, please let it drop, please let it drop)

Lady: "Second? Third?"

Me: (well if you aren't going to let it drop given my very short answers and seeming unwillingness to talk about it then you're getting the whole unvarnished truth...may God help your soul)
"This is my fourth pregnancy and will be my second living child if it survives."

Lady: (suddenly very interested in the credit card machine)

WHY do you feel the need to ASK about my reproductive history? I figure if you don't know a person well enough to already KNOW their story, then you just shouldn't ask.

And if anonymous is still reading...I KNOW people aren't out to get me. But do they have to be so damn stupid?!?!

Chas - about that giant asparagus

Isn't it pretty now?

Pregnancy, as interpreted by a 5-year-old mind

The three of us sat down last night and listened to the baby's heartbeat. Sam said it was, "really fun," and I agree.

Today he came home from daycare, patted my belly, and asked, "Is your belly getting bigger?"

This better work out...for all of us.

I have been inspired

I have been inspired to try eating local. I have spent a good deal of time online looking up local farmer's markets and sources for local meat. This weekend, I shop!

I don't know that I'll meet the Local Summer challenge, but I'm definitely going to have fun exploring the food around here.

If I believed in that sort of thing

Today, while on my way home on the same road where the bird committed suicide by crashing into the side of my minivan, a black cat sauntered across the road in front of me. It looked right at me as I stopped to wait for it to lazily make its way to the safety of the grass in the roadside ditch.

One misty morning when I was pregnant with Alex, I was driving along that same stretch of road and a big beautiful buck bounded across the road...so graceful and commanding as it bounded its way from the treeline on one side of the road to the overgrown brush on the other side of the road. It didn't slow down. It showed no hesitation. It was so beautiful and sure...so regal...I thought it must be a sign. I thought it was a good sign at the time.

It is the same stretch of road where I found insight in a flock of crows.

But I don't believe that sort of thing anymore.

If I did, I think I might just curl up and have a good cry while I wait for the other shoe to drop.

I am one lucky girl

So let me brag today about the best man in the whole wide world...MY husband.

Two nights ago it was 90+ degrees in our bedroom and I simply couldn't sleep. I went downstairs (which has a room air conditioner) and TRIED to sleep on the sofa which is an old sofabed. Now I don't know if you know anything about old sofabeds, but they are made of heavy steel and aren't quite comfortable in the sofa position (and since we don't have an actual mattress for the old sofabed, there is no chance of actually pulling it out and using it as a bed). So...I TRIED to sleep on the old sofabed sofa (how many times CAN I use the word sofa in one post? sofa, sofa, sofa...what a strange word. French...from Arabic. and it sounds weird if you say it enough. but I digress).

Anyway...

As I'm sure you could tell from yesterday's woe-is-me post, I was particularly tired and cranky after getting very little sleep on the old sofabed sofa. And yesterday was even hotter than the day before...which meant I was facing another LONG night on the old sofabed sofa.

So what does my husband do?

He takes us (and at least one of us was in a really bad mood) out to McDonald's for dinner and then to Home Depot to BUY AN AIR CONDITIONER FOR OUR BEDROOM!!!

I love that man!!!

I was so exhausted from the previous night's lack of sleep that I slept through and only got up to pee ONCE! Cool sheets...a cool breeze...the hum of the air conditioner for white noise. It was heaven!

I woke up this morning when Steve headed out to the barn to feed the horses and gave him a kiss and a thank you...even before we had brushed our teeth! Yes, I risked morning breath kisses (and that is huge for anyone who has ever experienced pregnancy gag reflexes). That is how thankful I was to him!

Just so nobody thinks I'm too spoiled...We had actually budgeted for this purchase in our home renovation loan but weren't sure we were going to be able to buy it when the living room ceiling collapsed and revealed structural issues that needed to be addressed. Luckily it all worked out. Because I would not have survived the summer on that old sofabed sofa. And given the fact that this is really only the second HOT day we've had this year...I have to give credit to my husband for making it happen.

Consider this a blip on the radar

OK...I've gone 14 weeks and 2 days without really complaining. I have relished every bit as much as possible and have counted the many blessings I have in my life. I know I should be grateful and I am. I know there are far worse things that I could go through and I apologize in advance if I sound anything other than blissfully happy. Please just consider this my vent of all vents...a purging, if you will...for the early part of this pregnancy. One...and then I will go back to being happy and cheerful and positive and thankful...

~I have HUGE ZITS on my face that HURT!
~My hair is beginning to fall out by the handful.
~My pants are getting too tight but I'm not quite big enough to wear maternity without looking silly.
~My legs ache almost all the time.
~My belly is bruised and painful from the daily Lovenox injections.
~I am rarely hungry so when I do get hungry and eat I feel like throwing up because I overeat.
~I'm a mean evil nasty pregnant woman and my husband just may run away and hide from me before all is said and done.
~I have very little to say that isn't sarcastic.
~My back hurts if I sleep too long.
~My neck hurts...I'm guessing because I'm so tense.
~I have to get up to pee FOUR times a night!
~I'm tired because I have to get up to pee FOUR times a night and don't get enough uninterrupted sleep.
~If I don't pee often, I feel nauseous.
~My eyes are constantly itchy from allergies.
~I can not garden because I can not take any allergy medicine that doesn't knock me out cold.
~My hips hurt if I sit too long.
~My left foot hurts in some weird fallen-arch kind of way.
~I am angry and resentful that I have to go through this again.
~I'm terrified that as soon as I say all this something bad will happen and I'll feel guilty for having said it.

OK. That's it. Back to your regularly scheduled gratitude/happiness/insanity.

In the blink of an eye

I bird flew into the side of the minivan this morning as I was driving to work.

Thunk. I can't get that sound out of my head.

And I shouldn't have looked in the rear view mirror.

Pregnancy hormones are fun, aren't they? Add unmitigated fear and hope and desperation on top of pregnancy hormones and you get me this morning.

Poor little bird just going about its business and THUNK. I wonder if there are baby birds somewhere going without. I wonder if there are friend birds wondering where in the hell their friend is.

Life just stopped.

I REALLY shouldn't have looked in the rear view mirror.

Hypocrisy or something else?

I looked at Steve yesterday while we watched the latest news about the discovery of Jessie Davis' nine months pregnant body and said something I was sure would sound horrible. I'm still not sure it comes out with the exact inflection necessary to get my point across. But Steve understood, so I'm going to try to type it into words and see how it looks in print.

First let me say how horrible the situation is and how sad I feel for that family. This, in no way, is intended to be a comment on their loss or the sadness they must feel. I've lost two babies but I have no idea what pain it must be to lose a grown child and a baby at the same time. My heart aches for them. At the same time, I have a question that I would really love answered.

I have watched the news reports (how could I not...it is the lead of our local newscast every night). I know that the unborn baby had a name...Chloe. I have grown ever more resentful, as people have expressed how sad they were over Chloe's death. They talk about her lost potential. They talk about how loved Chloe was/is.

Yet when people talk with me, they are shocked if/when I mention the names of my sons. People seem perplexed at my feelings over our loss. There is a definite discomfort with recognizing my dead children as actual children...loved...lost potential...dearly missed even though we never really got to know them.

Nobody tells John Walsh to "get over it." Everyone remembers Laci Peterson and Baby Conner. But tens of thousands of mothers are told to "move on" every years. TENS of THOUSANDS. What is that?

Steve says he thinks that a good tragedy unites people. I think he might be right. If there is enough moral outrage at the WAY a baby died, then it becomes socially acceptable to mourn that loss. But if your baby just dies as the result of something so mundane as a bacterial infection, then there is a time limit on the acceptability of the grief. It's as if people need a vehicle with which to justify their grief feelings.

But what is weird to me is that women like myself, who have the vehicle of medical breach of care, are seen as grasping at straws...as somehow desperate. It is an odd thing. And as I said, I'm not sure I've expressed myself clearly. Just something I'm turning around in my brain for now. As often happens with these thoughts, clarity may or may not come later.

Email request

Hey Bon! Email me at Kate94651@hotmail.com if you get a chance. Thanks!

I don't care what anyone says

My co-worker (and friend) has been diagnosed with a brain tumor.

My friends' baby has been diagnosed with aortic stenosis and now has to have a "procedure" to hopefully stave off the need for heart surgery.

And then there is Lisa and all that she is going through.

And Julie losing her friend.

I don't care what anyone thinks...things do NOT happen for a reason.

There is no reason. Things just happen. Good things. Bad things. They just happen.

If you don't agree with me, keep it to yourself.

Must do the honorable thing

Spent all day in court.

Now I feel like falling on a sword to end it all.

Some days are just that much fun, aren't they?

On a positive note, I only had to run out of the courtroom once to up-chuck my lunch.

Still alive

Ultrasound showed GB still wiggling and kicking around in there.

My blood pressure is 120/70 and my placenta is anterior.

Next appointment two weeks from now. Then another two weeks. Then every week until we pass "a certain point" (OB's words)...the "mystery bump in the road" (my words)..."D-Day" (Steve's words).

I scheduled seven appointments at one time and the receptionist asked why. I told her. She was very apologetic. Why did she feel the need to ask in the first place? As long as they're paid for, I should be able to get all the appointments I want.

My "frank" conversation with the receptionist caused one very pregnant woman to walk out of the waiting room. I feel bad. On the one hand, I want women to know it can happen to them. On the other, I don't want to ruin it for anyone.

I'm having nightmares about Jessie Davis.

I guess that's all the news that's fit to print. I will probably think of more after I get rid of this post-appointment headache.

The dishwasher is fixed

And I feel like a new woman!

I love the Maytag repair man.

Welcome to the world little babies!!!

Catherine's babies are here!!!

Happy Father's Day

Sam...it's Father's Day...don't annoy your father.

Steve...I love you

And since I promised I wouldn't write anything that would make you cry, all I have to say is...

Happy Father's Day.

Dear Anonymous

Bite me.

Secret Pal is over for me and anonymous comments are now off (and your comment has been deleted). Thank you for the reminder.

And so you know, if you read even a small part of this blog, you will see that I don't think people are "out to get me." What I think is that people are narrow-minded and short-sighted. What I think is that there are some behaviors in our society that are unintentionally and unnecessarily hurtful. What I think is that people like you should read more blogs like mine and get a clue...find some empathy...learn to be kind to others. I hope that by reading my words, you get a glimpse of what is beyond your normal sphere of existence and you see that other people may need a little more compassion than you normally show. Maybe, you might even learn to offer special kindness without having to be asked. Now wouldn't that be a kick in the pants? It might actually help you be a better person. Then you might find helpful behaviors to engage in...rather than anonymously posting hurtful comments on the blog of someone who is already hurting (for which I still say...Bite Me).

Thank you kemaji!!!

My secret pal was revealed with this delicious package that arrived in the mail. See the yarn? It's SILK! It is so yummy!


You can find kemaji's blog over here. (I'm not going to reveal her real name since I don't know if she blogs anonymously or not...I'll let you know once I read her archives.)

This totally reminds me I have to get on the ball and get my secret pal's last package together.

New glasses!

You can't really tell in the picture, but they're purple!

Crying over spilled juice

The orange juice I had for breakfast was a BAD idea, so I decided to try some apple juice for lunch. I walked over to the building that houses the vending machine and bought the last apple juice. I walked back to my office building and promptly dropped the apple juice. The cap cracked and apple juice went spilling everywhere. I said, apparently too loudly, "That's it, I give up for today," and mopped up the spilled juice.

The receptionist asked me what happened and I told her I spilled my apple juice and I was really bummed because it was the last one. I was on the verge of tears...over apple juice.

My boss must have overheard bits of the conversation because he handed the receptionist some change and told her to go buy me another apple juice. How sweet is that? What a kind gesture.

Thank you Julia!!!

I just read the most delicious comment that needs its own post...

The people who drive me mad are the ones who think that because some of us choose to make meaning out of our experience in a particular way that they approve of, than that is why we had to have it. I call bullshit. What we choose to do with the shambles that is our lives may tell one what kind of people we are, but it does not in any way tell anyone anything about what kinds of experiences we needed in our lives.

Julia's blog

Smile!!!

Sam had a good time at his party. Just look at that smile!

A mommy-son bonding moment.

Is this your first?

So last night I announced to my business women's group that I am pregnant. They all know my history and I felt like it was a safe place. I didn't think about the fact that we had a guest and she might ask (stupid) questions. My fault entirely.

But really, WHY do women ask, "Is this your first?" Does it matter if it's my first or my sixth? What makes this an appropriate question? Is it any of your damn business if you've only just met me an hour earlier?

I quickly responded with, "No, this is my fourth," before I looked away and started crying. I heard her say, "Oh, your fourth," but I couldn't stand to look at her. Luckily, my friend body blocked the guest as she wrapped me up in her arms and said, "I hope it's ok that I pray for you." And thankfully, I didn't see our guest again before she left for the night.

I don't know if anyone told her about me or not...and I really don't care. Except that maybe if she knows she might think twice the next time before she asks a complete stranger another inappropriate question. Maybe I'll drop her a note and apologize for my abruptness with her...and explain. It will probably make her feel stupid, but at least it will save the next woman from her overly personal inquiry.

Who was she?

There are times when I wonder who I used to be. What was I like? How many human beings I breezed on past during my daily life without a thought. Such was the situation yesterday as I stood in the checkout line at the Dollar General.

The pretty young girl in front of me was buying a rug...the kind you put in your kitchen doorway so people can wipe their muddy boots on the cute little apple decorations you've chosen for your "theme." She was quiet and didn't make eye contact with the cashier who took her money and handed her her change. It was her startling lack of human contact that made me really look at the cashier. Much to my surprise, instead of the vacant look I was expecting to see, I caught her wiping away a tear. She was trying to hide it...but she was definitely crying.

I startled the pretty young girl in front of me when I asked the cashier, "Are you ok?" In fact, the pretty young girl looked at me like I had lost my mind and scurried away, out the door to her car, as fast as her little legs would carry her.

It was that simple question...the one that I've been asked so many times...that just opened the flood gates for the cashier and it all came tumbling out. "My three month old baby boy had to go to the hospital." I asked her why and she said he had a temperature of 103.7 that wouldn't come down.

I watched her struggle to maintain some composure...to hide her tears...but she couldn't. Her son was born March 7th, was LifeFlighted to Cleveland, and spent March 7th through the 16th in the intensive care unit of one of the children's hospitals there. Being too personal, I asked why and she told me he had inhaled meconium during delivery and ended up with pneumonia and meningitis. She tried to smile as she said, "I guess that really did a number on me."

As she was making my change, she said she was thinking of going to be with him right that moment. I smiled a little as she handed me my inaccurate change (off by just two cents) and said, "You should, you're not going to be able to concentrate here until you see him with your own eyes and know that he's ok." She closed her register and tearfully said, "I'm going to go talk to the manager right now," as she walked out from behind the checkout counter.

I walked out of the store, got in my empty minivan, and cried for her.

I didn't even catch her name.

zzzzzzzzzzzz

I am so tired...zzzzzzzzzz...

...and the livin' is easy...

Sam spent Saturday running around the party room at Toys R Us with eleven of his friends. They yelled and laughed and ate and played...smiling all the while. With big smiles on our faces, Steve and I watched our big kid have the time of his life while we reconnected with friends we haven't seen in weeks and other friends we haven't seen in years.

Our friends came home with us and my parents dropped by with my aunt and uncle and some (old) friends of the family I haven't seen in decades (My uncle commented to me that he had been trying to get these particular friends together for some time and it had just never worked out before now. He said he was shocked when it worked out this time). The house was full. We laughed and talked and ate and smiled.

This is what it is about. Spending time with people you love...people you like.

I realized this weekend how unhappy I am on a daily basis because I am surrounded by people I wouldn't necessarily choose as friends or family. That special occasion/birthday party feel is so lovely because it is just about the only time when we get to decide who we will share time and space with...people you love...people you like.

I hope everyone who visited had a decent time with us. We had a lovely time with you all and the kids are all beautiful, wonderful, amazing little people.

And now we realize we have nothing big planned for the rest of the summer. We took a NAP this afternoon and we feel completely sloth-like...guilty. Yeah...this is what it's all about. Let the summer begin.

Oh yeah...and we just played with the doppler and we both totally heard GB's little heartbeat. Unfortunatly, Sam was still asleep and missed it.

I need to blog about something big

I guess this borders on political. It's about as "universal" as I get on this blog...

Why...why...why...WHY is it considered OK for a doctor to diagnose ANYTHING over the TELEPHONE?!?!?!

Let me back up here. In case you don't remember, in the weeks leading up to Alex's death, I SAW my OB and my regular doctor in person. They both misdiagnosed my uterine infection as an upper respiratory/sinus infection. I CALLED to complain that the course of treatment (OTC decongestant and tylenol) was not working. I KNEW something was wrong (though I did not know it was related to the pregnancy) and nobody would listen to me. Now I'm pregnant again and, admittedly, I am much more cautious.

But I can not get over the number of women on the internet 'pregnant after loss' message boards who are willing to have their doctor 'reassure' them over the telephone. We're talking women who notice movement changes in their babies. We're talking women who have bleeding. We're talking women who have classic symptoms of gestational diabetes or iron deficiencies or other issues that need management/treatment

And yet, when these women express their feelings, the repeatedly qualify them with, "I don't want to make a fuss over nothing." They call their doctor and when their doctor tells them there is "nothing to worry about," they accept that...without EVER BEING SEEN! As if their doctor has some magical diagnostic ability over the phone lines.

Now I don't want to create mass hysteria...but this is INSANE! In NO other area of medicine (that I am aware of) is it acceptable to diagnose someone over the telephone. So why is it ok during pregnancy? What are we accomplishing by consistently downplaying our fears? by patting women on the head and telling them not to worry (their pretty little heads)?

I'll tell you what we are accomplishing...A great game of Russian roulette...with our babies' lives. The odds MAY be in your favor and you will MOST LIKELY be ok. But MY GOD...why take that chance?!?!

Let me tell you one thing, if you are unlucky enough to get that one bullet right in the temple...you will wonder the exact same thing I am wondering now. And then it will be too late.

But even more interesting is the fact that this is a group of women who are pregnant AFTER LOSS. You would think they would be much more careful...much more demanding...of the medical treatment they receive.

shhhh...iiiittttt

The dishwasher heard I was thinking of re-doing the kitchen and promptly went on strike. No power...no little green flashing lights...no nothing. And my electrical engineer father couldn't figure out what was wrong with it either. I will, from this point forward, respect the sanctity of the kitchen. Do you hear that refrigerator?

140bpm

We had to wait for an hour and a half, but we finally got to see the doc. We joked with Dr. A that if we're going to have to wait that long to see him they should at least leave the ultrasound machine in the room so we could play with it. Much to our surprise, he agreed and told us how to work it if we're ever lucky enough to be left alone in a room with an ultrasound machine (I love that man).

Everything looks good. GB is still alive and still wiggling around. Heartbeat=around 140bpm. I lost 3/10 of a pound, so that's good. There was slight protein in my urine, which the nurse said was ok. My BP was 120/70...right around normal for me.

The poor receptionist almost had a meltdown on her hand when she told me that I may not be able to see Dr. A in two weeks as requested. I looked her straight in the eye and said, "I'm high risk and I won't be seeing any other doctor." She tried to tell me that the next available appointment was July 7th but I wasn't budging. She called nurse Sandy who came out and double-booked me into an appointment in two weeks. :o)

Now maybe I've got another week and a half without any dead baby thoughts or nightmares. I hope so. I'm tired.

They just don't say it

Last Friday I had the day off work so that I could attend a seminar on Zoning and Land Use Planning. It was an all day affair at the local Lodge and Conference Center (nice place...if you ever want to come visit, I highly recommend staying at this place if you can afford it).

Anyway...the seminar was over at 3:30 and I left to run some errands before going home. As I was sitting at a red stoplight in town, my cell phone rang.

"Hi Catherine, this is T, why didn't you come to work today?"

I was stunned, since we have to have all of our seminar/conference attendance approved in advance.

"I was at a seminar at the Lodge."

"Oh! (talking to someone else) She was at a seminar at the Lodge!"

(voice in the background) "Oh! Yeah! OK!"

Monday I stayed home so that I could stain the stairs, go to the eye doctor, and meet the plumber about my kitchen sink drainage problem.

When I came back to work on Tuesday, I laughingly told new mommy coworker about the phone call. She said she already knew because on Monday, when she realized I had missed Friday AND Monday, she inquired whether they knew if everything "was ok" with me.

I laughed and said they were all nuts.

She laughed and said, "It's because we care about you...and we worry."

I know some really good people.

Countdown

199 days left

DBT (Dead Baby Thoughts - may be disturbing)

The baby was coming regardless of the fear. The pain heralded his arrival and no amount of wishful thinking was going to keep him inside. I strained against the power of the contractions, but I knew it was inevitable that he would be born. Steve was there, but nobody else seemed to care. We were alone and trying to survive this one more time. No doctors or nurses...just us.

The baby slid out of me onto the bed. I didn't pass out like when Travis was born. I heard something. I heard Steve gasp. I cried, "Is he dead?" Steve lifted him to my chest and he was alive and looking at me...tiny...so tiny...but alive. I saw in his soul the spirits of Alex and Travis...I saw my own soul looking back at me.

I cradled him to my chest and cried tears I thought I didn't have.

He wiggled against me...very much alive. And I cried even more.

"Please don't die," I whispered.

And then I woke up.

$625 later

The plumber came, he saw, he charged me $79 to tell me that he needs to charge me $625 to fix my kitchen sink. In five years, our house has had almost a complete overhaul. The only thing left is the kitchen with the horrible wallpaper that was the first thing I said "had to go." I think I may work on that this summer. It shouldn't cost me any money...right?

There is no privacy anymore

The question was innocent enough for an optometrist to ask, "Are you currently taking any medications?"

Me: "An occasional Zyrtec for seasonal allergies."

(silence while Dr. writes notes)

Me: "Oh, and Lovenox...it's a blood thinner."

Dr.: (quizzical look on face) "What on earth are you on a blood thinner for? Were you getting clots?"

Me: "No...uh...pregnancy...uh...prophylactic dose...uh..."

Dr: "Oh, ok. I've never heard of Lovenox before. If I had to guess, I would have guessed it was an antibiotic of some sort. I'll have to look that one up. So you are pregnant now?"

Me: "Yes...for now."

On to eye exam.

After eye exam, I'm in the frame room choosing my new eyeglass frames when the tech comes in (who I know from work)...

"Catherine! How ARE you? Why are you on Lovenox?"

Good grief! So I had to tell HER too. She was asking because she had her own (non-pregnancy) medical situation recently where she had to take Lovenox and she was genuinely concerned for me (she is a very nice lady).

But still...telling two people in one day...when I still practically choke on the words.

Miscellaneous Thoughts

A little late for a Friday edition, I know, but I had a seminar on Friday and all my thoughts were temporarily on hold while I learned all about zoning and land use planning in Northeast Ohio.
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I have had a headache since Friday night. It will likely last until Tuesday when the thunderstorms finally pass and bring some cooler temperatures (oh yeah, and my eyes ITCH!). But I am NOT complaining about not being able to take anything.

OK...maybe just a little.

I was supposed to attend a scrapbooking conference in Buffalo yesterday. But the prospect of the drive with the headache made it a no-go. This is the second year I've begged off on a friend who I was supposed to meet there and I feel like a heel for leaving her there without me. I'm sure she still had a good time (I hope she spent entirely too much money).
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The prospect of having company in our construction zone has motivated us to do some work toward making it more like "home." Pictures coming soon...as soon as Blogger allows. For now, let me just say this one word...curtains. ahh...there's a certain music to that sound, isn't there?
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Little is known with respect to melamine toxicity in human subjects. Animal studies have shown that melamine is not metabolized in rats, and is excreted unchanged. (Wikipedia)

Melamine in chicken and hog feed. I think I might try the eat local thing for a while.
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My dear friend's new baby is looking at a heart catheterization. When Steve heard about it, he said it made him angry, but he couldn't figure out why he was feeling anger when he COULD be feeling any number of other emotions. I said that it's because good people shouldn't have to slog through shit...and because he has a good heart and cares about his friends. I love him for that and so many other wonderful qualities of his personality.
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I forgot to record this last weekend...
I went into Babies R Us and even bought something there for a secret sister gift exchange.
And I didn't cry.
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For the first time in the 37-year franchise history, the Cleveland Cavaliers are Eastern Conference Champions and will be playing in the NBA Finals. I know it's not much to people elsewhere. But here in Cleveland, we're still trying to shake that "mistake by the lake" image. And this is a heck of a lot more fun than losing all the time.
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I have had these two images of Steve in my head since dreaming of bringing this baby home alive. The first is him crying while holding Sam for the first time. The tears and the smile. Someone in the delivery room took a picture for me. I love that picture.

The second image that keeps flashing in my head is the image of Steve holding Alex's lifeless body, wrapped in a blanket the exact same way Sam was. The tears. No smile. No picture, but I will never forget it just the same.

God, this one has to turn out to be picture worthy.
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Speaking of pictures...my sister and her husband came to visit last weekend (and were great sports in helping making Sam's birthday a fun one). They have some fabulous pictures from their three week vacation in the Galapagos Islands.

It's funny...they do Galapagos (and are planning Australia as their next big adventure) and we do Thomas the Tank Engine. We couldn't be more different.
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I need to scrounge up some breakfast...

FINALLY!!!

Cleveland Cavaliers
2007 Eastern Conference Champions

Not-quite-June is OVER!

The month-that-shall-not-be-named is DONE!

Welcome JUNE!