My Little Sparkler's 8 Weeks...

I'm so, so conflicted these days.

What's new, right?

I TOTALLY get why women whose babies die maintain a 'grief' type blog for their little one (or ones) and then when/if subsequent pregnancies should occur, maintain another...Like I said, I wish I had the time (more like energy) to do that because it really makes so much sense.

It feels like such betrayal to be celebrating the milestones of a pregnancy when just a few months ago, I was celebrating the milestones of Matthew.

I know it's not. I KNOW that's irrational. I know that is an attempt to steal my joy.

Regardless--it's a very, very strong and deep feeling. And much as many mean well in telling me not to worry, that is much, much easier said than done.

I've also come across several blogs of women with infertility that I have cringed at when reading...blogs that say that they as infertile women have a hard time hearing about other women with infertility getting pregnant. I understand that, to a degree, because we live in a world where we so easily look at what others have and we don't, and wonder, "Why isn't that me?" Lord knows I have done it...especially as a teacher who through the years has had the privilege of teaching children that I'd have given my eye teeth to parent.

But honestly, I get (and have been, admittedly) being jealous of women who have NO infertility. I get (and have been) being jealous of pregnant women with no losses--complete and total ignorant bliss. I get (and have been) being jealous of women with one or more children and just wanting to BEAT THEM OVER THE HEAD because they take so much of their motherhood / pregnancy for granted...I tried to go to a few "Due Date" clubs today and in EACH ONE (except, sadly, the pregnancy after loss ones, which didn't have many posts) there was some sort of whiny post (or numerous ones, actually) like, "Anyone else hate being pregnant?" or "Why do I have to lose my body to give it to them?" or "Will this ever end?"

Seriously? Yeah...I totally get being jealous of those women, and sadly, even feeling a bit judgemental toward them.

What I DON'T get is having fertility issues and being jealous of other women with fertility issues who finally are able to get pregnant. I don't understand how some people can look at those newly pregnant women and say things like, "They just don't get IF anymore...they're officially out of the IF club."

Trust me. I get infertility. I realize how very, very, VERY blessed we were that both our fresh cycles worked (ironic to say that) and I OFTEN told John that getting pregnant with Matthew on our first cycle was really beating statistical odds (which I apparently am very good at).

Getting pregnant does not erase 10+ years of pouring my heart out to God and begging Him to be a parent. It does not erase the heartache of every baby shower that wasn't mine or every baby gift bought for someone else or every procedure and chart and medicine taken in hopes that it would finally be our turn. It does not erase the heartache of working feverishly to put together a dossier and falling in love with children of another country--preparing for one of those to be your own and then being shut down--which was traumatic for as at worst but heartbreaking for those children left behind.

It does not erase the fear that since my only and precious little boy died, I may never get to parent another child on this earth.

No--those who suffer IF will ALWAYS get it.

And so EVERY. SINGLE. TIME I have learned another woman with IF issues has been given a miracle, I've rejoiced. Before I got pregnant--I rejoiced in the hope that one day it could be me. After Matthew, I rejoiced in hoping it could be me again. Today--I rejoice because I just see so much suffering in this world and I am SO glad to see SOME sense of fairness in the world.

Just as I've said of women who have lost their children, I say for women struggling with IF--in a world that seems SO unfair, I am just glad and thankful that I get to see some examples of life being more like we feel it ought to be.

I don't even know why I got off on this tangent other than because it's just hard to find my place in the world these days.

I tried to adopt a baby. I didn't. I am not an Adoptive Parent.

I tried to get pregnant. I did. I'm no longer in the IF club.

I gave birth to a baby. He died. I don't get to be the Playdate Mom.

I'm pregnant again but terrified that I won't get to bring this baby home. I can't join any Due Date Clubs because I won't complain about hating pregnancy or petty things like whether I am disappointed it's a boy and not a girl.

I'm a mother who wants to be overjoyed about the precious little life I'm carrying.

I'm a mother who misses her little boy so much that I believe people can physically feel a broken heart.

And I feel really, really bad even writing about how hard this is because I know there are so many women who are trying so hard to bring another baby into their lives.

But I'd be lying if I didn't. It's hard.

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I have always been known to love shiny and sparkly things....so I am just pleased as punch that my little Sparkler is fitting in with that trend! Today, Miney is 8 weeks! I didn't do this with Matthew, but figure since it's for his or her posterity, here's what's going on:


Week Eight: Starts to practice moving

You are 8 weeks pregnant. (six weeks from conception)

* The embryo is measures about 18 mm (3/4 inch) in length.
* Their arms and legs are growing and location of the elbows and toes are visible..
* The feet and hand buds have appeared.
* Starts to practice moving (not felt by mom till week 20)
* The stomach is being made from part of the gut.
* The face is beginning to take shape.
* Your baby's mouth and nostrils are starting to develop.
* Teeth begin to develop under the gums.
* The eyes can now be seen as small hollows on each side of the head.


The arms and legs continue to develop - These limbs are stretching out more and more. Later on you will be feeling those feet and elbows up close and personal right in your bladder. The embryonic tail has almost disappeared.

The pituitary gland is also forming and the embryo is beginning to grow muscle fibers. The heart has divided into the right and left chambers and is beating about 150 beats a minute which is about twice the rate of an adult.

The baby's facial features are visible, including a mouth and tongue. The eyes have a retina and lens. The major muscle system is developed, and the baby starts to practice moving. The baby has its own blood type and the blood cells are produced by the liver now instead of the yolk sac.


Praying for a strong heartbeat on Wednesday.

Really, really bad dreams....

One of the things I've thanked God for since Matthew has died is the lack of dreams. I know, many want to have wonderful dreams of their precious little ones and of course, so do I.

I just don't want to risk the horrible dreams in order to have the precious ones yet.

I'm a chicken. My heart hurts and honestly, I walk a very fine line in trying to make sure I *face* the pain but avoid anything I can at the same time. I love pictures of Matthew but haven't been able to put many up in our house yet because they hurt. His room is precious to me, but it breaks my heart. His lock of hair and little baby things--hat, blanket, handprints, etc...I'm SO thankful I have them, but even typing about them makes me sob and I get really, really overwhelmed when I force myself to go through his boxes and things.

I have enough pain just in day-to-day life. I try not to add any more in if I don't have to.

So, I have been really, really thankful that I have not had many dreams since Matthew died. Good or bad--just dreamless. One I do remember was about a week or two after he died; I was walking around with this 10 pounder plus baby boy (but who wasn't mine) and I put him down somewhere and I lost him. Couldn't find him. Felt horrible for his mother because I had lost her baby. Didn't know what to do for her...but he wasn't mine. That baby that was lost wasn't mine.

I guess that was what made it a dream.

Last night, I had a horrible nightmare. Woke up in the middle of the night crying, "God, please help me...someone help me..." and I even woke John up. It was gruesome and I won't go into details but the highlights were of several dead babies buried under a porch--mine was one of them, and there were a few others--all in plastic bags.

One baby rallied. And was dressed in a very weird, grey sweat jacket--head covered and coming for me. I almost swung a bat at it because I was scared of it and felt it wasn't right, but then thought, "Dear Lord...this is someone's baby," and even though the head was covered, I got the impression that the baby was scared. So...I didn't swing.

And then he came for me. And got me. And pinned me to a wall. And was about to do God only knows what to me.

And that's where I woke up, screaming.

This is why I'd rather not dream at all.

Of course, I couldn't go back to sleep and all of a sudden, I got this overwhelming fear that we are going to go to our appointment next week and they are going to tell us that the baby is no longer there. When I say overwhelming, I mean panic-attack overwhelming. All my chanting--"This one, she will keep," and "Lord, take this from me right now," and deep breathing was doing nothing.

I honestly don't know how I fell back asleep, other than by chanting those things in my head and begging God to take those thoughts.

And I'm still begging Him to take them because they are still here. I'm so glad that it's less than a week until our next ultrasound. I think I will feel much, much better going in then and having a better idea of growth and heartrate.

I know I didn't put it too much out there originally because the last thing I really wanted to hear was the obvious, "You need to stop worrying."

Duh. I'll also push the "Grow two inches," "Change eye color to green" and "Brown hair to blonde" buttons while I am at it.

I know that I need to stop worrying. I've already said it...I try very hard not to but it's just easier said than done.

I so desperately want this sweet little baby boy or girl to be ok. At our 6 week u/s, the heart rate was 88. The average range is 90-110. Dr. K said that was perfect, but to me, perfect is 90-110. Matthew's at that point in time (and I know babies are different; please don't feel like you need to tell me that) was 101.

The crown-rump length also dated the baby at 6w1d. I was 6w2d that day. So, in addition to a tad slower heart-rate, little Miney was also a day behind in growth. Someone told me, "Well, that's why the heart rate was a little slower...it's fine for that day's growth."

Which might hold water with me if my baby was not IVF. Not conceived at 1:30 pm on April 26. Not transferred back to my womb at nearly 72 hours later on April 29. There's NO confusion as to where my baby is on dating.

So...it's been a somewhat stressful week. I've been trying with all my might not to worry until our next ultrasound--baby will be bigger, heart rate and crown-rump length will be easier to measure...and I pray that it was just early with the last ultrasound.

Wednesday can't come fast enough. I just hope I don't have any more dreams in the meantime.

6 Weeks...25 Weeks and Two Days...

Will the rest of my life be spent counting weeks?

Will this be another pregnancy that starts with me counting the weeks of life, and ends with me counting the weeks since death?

Will I be able to bear it if it is?

Obviously, I am worried.

I'm trying very, very hard not to be. It may not seem like it, but I am. The last thing I want is something to happen and then to have to suffer the guilt of thinking it was my worry.

Not to mention I don't want to waste a second of another miracle to be wasted with worry.

I was on one of the IVF boards I frequent and a woman wrote about how she'd had high betas and was expecting to hear twins when she went in for her 6-weeks ultrasound. Instead, she saw no yolk, no baby. Our ultrasound is Wednesday so I've been praying that doesn't happen to me.

The Internet is wonderful. It is full of boards and forums and blogs of women who TOTALLY get my life. SO many understand the frustration and heartbreak of infertility, or adoption, or failed adoptions, or child loss, or infertility after child loss, or of pregnancy after child loss...or, like me, ALL of that in some way.

And there is comfort in *meeting* them and sharing with them; encouraging them and being encouraged by them because they remind you that YOU ARE NORMAL even when others in the world who *think* they get it, don't--and make you feel like you ought to be dong something else.

But like EVERYTHING in my life, these blogs and groups and boards are also bittersweet. They are in-my-face reminders of all that could go wrong...and educators about things that could go wrong that I didn't even KNOW about! It's very easy to look at and know some of the many, many stories and think, "But that's not the norm. That's not usually what happens. That was tragic. That was unexpected. That was shocking. That is rare. That just doesn't happen."

But when YOU'VE BEEN that ONE....you know it does. And there's nothing to say it won't again.

And so I just try and remember that I'm not in control and that we are living through the worst thing we can possibly imagine...and if more sorrow is to come, God will continue to sustain.

While I understand the meaning behind being anxious for nothing, it's not easy. As I told a dear friend last night...with Matthew, I WAS anxious for nothing. I believed more than anything I'd ever believed in my life that Matthew would live and grow.

And look where that got me.

So, while I know that I WILL survive should anything tragic happen again...surviving is hard.

It's scary.

It's unimaginably painful.

And frankly, I don't want to be there. Again.

So, yes, I'm worried.

I get weekly updates from Silent Grief. At first, I didn't realize they were weekly--they just came at the right times. Always the right words at the right time. Even after I realized they were weekly, still seemed that way.

So this morning, what's in my email? Today's Silent Grief is titled, "When All You Do Is Worry."

And I got it not once...not twice...but three times. It was emailed to me three times. Weird.
It's not anything that I haven't heard before, but times 3, nice to know that again, God is telling me there's no use in worrying and that He will carry me.

Even if it is through more pain and more anguish and more heartache.
(Personal plea, though, God, please let's not go this route?)

SO...today is six weeks. I'm feeling more hungry than nauseated, though still queasy often. I'll be fine and then all of a sudden, feel like the flu is all over me. I keep saying it, but it is true. It is very different than Matthew.

I'm not a big believer in Old Wives' Tales, but I do think she's a girl. There's a lot of things I think about which I am very wrong, though, so...we'll just wait.

A sweet little guy (whose name I love) at church yesterday told me one of the nicest things I've heard in a long time...with a huge smile and a precious heart, he said, "I can't wait to see your baby in the nursery."

Neither can we, little friend...neither can we.

What goes up...

Well, as high as I was on Friday about all the progress made, I crashed yesterday! The lovely people renting the first home we bought in Maryland told us that they were going to finish up with the lease and buy a house. And it's not ours. Which, I can honestly say, I can't blame them for--seeing as we moved from it as well. When you have two golden retrievers, a yard that can be measured in square feet (as in 8200 square feet) just doesn't compare to 3 acres of woods and creek. So...thankfully we know ahead of time and have until December 31 to rent (or sell, ha ha) the house out. This is a crash for me simply because the plan of bringing home baby and STAYING home with baby is dependent upon us not having a house (and mortgage) just sitting around. John is not worried, so I shouldn't be. The message in church this morning was of hope-and it was very comforting to know that hope for earthly things just doesn't even compare to the everlasting hope that we have in Christ. Leave it to God to put things in perspective for me.

Soooo...I'm not worried. It's going to be just fine. We'll rent it out--plenty of time. And if not, we'll have plenty of money saved to let it sit for a bit until the market picks up and we'll sell it. It's going to be fine. Period.


Oh, and friends, if ever a grammar error exists, PLEASE let me know as soon as you spot it!! You know what a grammar freak I am! I just reread my last post and apparently, finance is what I meant to type, but fiance is what I actually typed. Oh, the horror of it all!

Tired continued...

I don't know what to say about my zeal for doing adoption things lately other than I am just tired by regular life and hating my lack of energy for 'extra-curricular' This week has been SO exhausting! Getting back to school after break is tiring anyway, but then this week also was the week that our county's math textbook adoption committee met--for 3+ hours, in the evenings. The after-school program I am part of is just frustrating and poor John's birthday was yesterday and I didn't have time (or energy) to do anything for it. (He says he doesn't care about fanfare for birthdays, and while I admire that --and was grateful for it yesterday-- it's not MY style! I TOTALLY love the fanfare!!) Throw in the fact that the poor little foster pup got spayed yesterday (and was coughing through the night--maybe anesthetic upsetting her??) and Dixie (the almost 2-year old Diva pup) was absolutely OBNOXIOUS from 11:38 pm to 1:47 am (last time I checked the clock) and count me as just done! I got home from school today and plunked myself on the sofa and fell asleep for several hours. I still feel so groggy, though, that I think I may head on up to bed.

My goals this weekend: Get fingerprints in LaPlata for our Statewide police clearance tomorrow am. Clean up house! Organize the adoption folders a bit better (that's the OCD anxiety!!) Get lesson plans done (and not at 8pm Sunday night) and try, somewhere, to squeeze in a nice, celebratory dinner for my poor husband's non-celebrated birthday. I'm tired just planning this weekend! Which is why I am glad that I am just doing to do what I can and not stress over what I can't.

A couple of Easter pics--lovely day! We joined our church Easter Sunday, and I was reminded again about the joy of Resurrection. Lord, continue to help me remember that, when I feel so weary. You know more than anyone about weariness on one's soul!

Just plain tired

I hate this part. I know it sounds bad, and I will probably rue the day I type this, but all the stress over all the documentation has just given me migraines for the past two days. We did get our fingerprints done for our I600A today, so that's something nice. John said he's found a notary willing to 'go with us' should we need that for different documents. My doctor had no problem giving me a copy of her license, and telling me the blood work and medical forms should be the least of my worries (they are now, thank you SO much, Dr. C!) and things are chugging along.

We need a CPA, however, and our water failed--well, of the 51 vials of water, bacteria was found in 7--which is really not a big deal and probably due to the fact that the guy getting the water sample was not necessarily the most sanitary, but still...add that with all the stuff we still have to do, and well, I think I would rather just 'wait' than stress over paperwork. Enough of the stressing, though, right?

We found out that friends of ours just got their referral for their 2 year old little girl from Ethiopia--Maria--after 2.5 months!! I'm so happy for them!! They already have a little boy, who is JUST precious and will be a wonderful big brother. They are wonderful parents and I can't wait to be in their shoes. Hmmm...maybe I am not going to be a good wait-er after all!!

Happy Easter to all...Lord, thank you for sending your precious Son to save us all. It is because you live again that my mother and John's dad WILL see and know our sweet baby girl one day.

Trading my worries for woes...

When I was little, and I had some ache or pain and told my mom or dad about it, they would respond in that lovely, parental way--"Want me to make the other (insert body part that DOESN'T hurt) hurt so you won't pay attention anymore???" I loved that. Not really. That seems to be what I am doing, which is ok with me, though. School for the last two days? Ah, the same. Aggravating, stressful, frustrating, yada yada. Worse? All the stuff for the adoption! Finding others going through the same trips on different blogs, I am learning all sorts of stuff I don't think I want to know!! John's military status will make this much more difficult. The fact that we have military health care will make this much more difficult. And that's just the start of it...I just have to suck it up and take things one step at a time. Otherwise, I will go insane.

I did bring KGB a new book home today--Pinkalicious. I just know her favorite color will be pink. It will, it will, it will!

The pain of it all

Well, it's official! My doctor has basically told me that I need to quit my job if I want to be healthy and happy. I have ALWAYS loved her! It's military health care, so she's hard to get an appointment with, but she's great and squeezed me in today! It started with my little visit to Physical Therapy for my back. My aching, sore, feels like I have been beaten up, back and neck. I've been going for two weeks now, today being the 3rd time, and bless those cute little boys' hearts, they felt sorry for me! "You have WAY too many muscle spasms. They are all up and down your spine and neck." Yep, tell me about it. Flexoril to the rescue. Like I don't have enough medicines. They also told me to go see my doctor and gave me an in on how to get a coveted same day appointment without having to give your firstborn (good thing, don't have one) away. So, I went, got in (miracle of all miracles) and she nearly cried with happiness for me (told you she was great!) when I told her about the adoption. I told her that I didn't want to add any more medicines to my already large pharmacy, and she asked me, "Lori, are you going to work when you get the baby?" I told her that I had planned to stay at home. She then said, "Then honey, we just need to get you through the next year. When you stop working, so much of your stress will be gone." Don't get me wrong, she went on to remind me that I would be under the stress of being a parent. But she made one key point--I will be able to have some control over that situation. My situation in education right now--not so much control. That's the most frustrating part--feeling like if I do what's right for my kids, the repercussions are mighty. I totally believe her, too...I was happy, healthy (mostly) Lori at Christmas break. John says the school Lori is the "F-bomb" Lori. I hate that Lori. She's mean, grumpy and miserable to be around. Plus, her neck and back kill her. So, due to the simple laws of physics and cause and effect, it's obvious that I need to leave education. Here's to that day. Until then, here's to heat therapy, massages, muscle relaxers and stress-relievers.