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.

Can't Sleep...

In a few hours, I have to get up because John and I are driving to New York to help cousin Andi move down to Baltimore for grad school! We're very excited she'll be closer.

John got home today and was really surprised at how much I'm showing already. Seriously, it's crazy. Dr. Shonekan said that you show sooner with the second pregnancy. She's not kidding. We went up to bed early, in anticipation of our early wake-up, but I have not been able to sleep. I'm glad I'll have some sleep time tomorrow in the car.

There's so much on my mind.

I am terrified. Nothing more to say about that.

Funny how I titled my last post "Hard Day" and could easily do that today as well.

For different reasons. Days that make me truly get on my knees and thank God for His goodness are hard days too, and today was no exception.

I went to visit my friends at Labor and Delivery. I wanted to take them some goodies during Nurses Week, but that was right after the transfer, and before Mother's Day, and honestly, I didn't think I had the strength to do it.

So today, armed with a bowl of chocolate (and minus the stupid lemon bars that you just don't want to ask about), I went.

I had to take a couple of deep breaths in the elevator on the way up.

When I got there, the doors were open as someone else was walking in before me, and the first thing I see is the cutest girl at the front desk whispering to someone, "She's here! She's here!"

Talk about feeling like a rock star!

I walked in, sat my bowl down, and signed in. Instantly, I was enveloped.

And I cried.

Such bittersweet tears! Joy, joy, joy about this new little life I have! Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow over the sweet little life I lost...as many of those precious women lost him with me.

Honestly and truly, there is a tiny piece of Heaven God has placed on this earth, and it's in that Labor and Delivery wing. How else could such a collection of angels exist??

We hugged and talked and laughed and cried. They gave us a wonderful gift card for which they'd like to have a bench and placard for Matthew's grave. Their compassion is overwhelming.

They helped me remember things I didn't, and in doing so, made me realize that I'm going to have to write about all I remember from that night soon.

They shared their excitement and joy for us, and just lifted my heart.

As we walked out to leave (yes, escorted right to my car!!!), I got one last thing...

Rather, Matthew did.

They played--just for Matthew--his lullaby.

My Matthew got his song.

And there is no one on this earth that can possibly understand what that meant to me. I've had so, so many kind actions and gestures given in the last few months.

Hearing the song recognizing the precious birth of my son is truly one of the kindest and most generous gifts I've ever been given.

Thank you, thank you, thank you and thank you again, L&D friends. You made a mother's heavy heart beat just a little stronger today.


I also have to get this off my chest because it just keeps tossing and turning in my head. I'm feeling very irresponsible in that I need to clear some things up.

So many people tell me how strong I am.

I'm not. He is. He holds me up.

I'm told I am brave.
He tells me to be of good courage.

I'm told I'm inspirational.
I'm simply clinging to His promises.

I'm told I am amazing.
I am just a vessel.

People ask me (and I often ask myself) how I am able to do this.
I'm not. He does it for me. And through me.

People tell me I am encouraging.
I just want to bear the burdens of others, as SO MANY bear mine.

I pray every night for God not to waste my pain.
And He hasn't.

Because if people think all of those things about me, but KNOW that it is solely the grace of God that allows me to breathe from one minute to the next...

I'm humbled.

And grateful.

And blessed.

Another Day, Another Bloodtest....

So, first...I have to get this off my chest.

I am sorry.

If you are reading this and you have lost a child, I am sorry.

If you are reading this and you have lost a child, and are trying desperately to have another child, I am so, so sorry.

I now that what you are feeling is unique to you, but I promise you that I am somewhat familiar with hearing pregnancy announcements from everyone and their uncle (and I mean that--two words: PREGNANT MAN) since 1999. That's over TEN years. TEN years of cycling and charting and testing and proceduring and attempting (and failing) to adopt.
I know the desperation of wanting to be a mother.

I know the desperation of BEING a mother...only to a child you had to bury. Before you even got to hold him. And I know the desperation of being that mother--while trying to be a mother to another child...a child that you would give the world for the simple privilege of raising him or her. I know the desperation of literally begging God for His favor on this cycle, with this medicine. I know the deals you make with Him if He would just grant you another miracle.
I know how much it hurts when the deal isn't accepted.

I know how hard it is to put on the happy face with every new announcement (and there have been a lot of them, doesn't it seem?) and truly be happy for them--but so, so, so jealous at the same time. Desperate for that to be YOU. For you to be back in a club that isn't just FILLED with sorrow.

I'm so grateful that I have only had to know that unique desperation--infertility before AND/OR after a loss--for a few months since Matthew died...and not longer like so many.

And I am so, so sorry if you do. I know that sounds so surface--and I wish I had a way to convey just how truly heartfelt my sympathy is. I know I can't...words just don't do my feelings justice.

But I just want to say, that I am not sorry that I am pregnant, by any means, but if you are trying and are struggling....I am so, so, sorry that you are not.

I say this because I realize that reading about pregnancy stuff may not be easy, at least it often isn't easy for me. And while I haven't stopped reading any blogs because the writers were/are newly pregnant, there are often days that I just have to come back and share their joy a little later...after a few of my own tears.

I also say this because if you read this, and it turns out that you just can't stomach it, I get it. And I wish I was talented enough or had enough time to do what so many amazing mothers do and have separate blogs for their living children and their buried children, but I just can't. I started this blog mainly because we were going to adopt from Kyrgyzstan and I thought I'd just journal stuff. Along the way, I *met* and fell in love with so many different families and stories...I learned all sorts of stuff (like being able to upload your blog into a book for publishing!) and found some venting value in writing, even if only for myself. As Kyrgyzstan turned into the sad situation it still is, and IVF came into play, I kept writing to document for WHATEVER child would be our own. It turned out it was Matthew! And I wrote many posts so he'd know his mother...her heart, her love for God and her love for her precious little boy. Long after I was gone, I wanted him to always have something that was straight from my mouth and my mind.

When he died...he took such a big, big part of me with him. And I really didn't plan to write here any more because he was gone and so was my will to document ANYTHING....all I had to document was dark and hurting and frankly, I had enough on my plate as it was, without having to worry about what others thought of me if they really knew what was going through my mind.

But a good friend sent me a FB message and told me she prayed I still would...that this was our family's story...and it is sad and heartbreaking, but it is OURS...and one day, Matthew's brother or sister would treasure the brother they'd know because they'd know him through my words.

And so it went from Lori Does MD (in hindsight, I'd SO change the name...at the time, I was just thinking about how NOT fond of Maryland I was and how I was muddling through!) to Lori Does MD...And Waits For Matthew! to Lori Does MD...Our Family's Story.

And because it is first and foremost our family's story, it will be all about our family...our loved ones gone and our blessings to come.

So, if you find it hard to read or follow updates on Miney and Moe, I get it.

And I'm sorry. Truly, truly, I am sorry. To quote my RE, if I had a magic wand, I know SO many women with whom I'd use it...I just don't. Lacking the wand, know my prayers are solid and strong for you.


**********************************************

We had our second beta test this morning. My number today is 2971. A good, solid, strong number.

I am still feeling like it's one, still feeling she's a she.

Basically, these numbers monitor HCG (produced by the baby as it grows) and more specifically the rate, time and percentage of increase. A good indication of a nice, strong baby (or babies) growing can be made on these numbers, but not necessarily confirmed until an ultrasound (next Wednesday).

They'd like to see a doubling rate of every two days, or 48 hours (meaning that two days after the first number, the second number is double or higher).

My doubling rate was 1.59...meaning my levels are doubling a little faster (which is nice!), or every 38.3 hours.

Here's more info:

Assessment: The Two-Day hCG rise was 139 % and is considered adequate.

First hCG: 806 mIU/ml	Second hCG: 2971 mIU/ml
hCG Difference: 2165 mIU/ml	Time Difference: 72 hours	Total hCG Increase: 2.69 % (3.7)
Daily Rate Increase: 54 % (1.54)	Two Day Rate Increase: 139 % (2.39)
1st Day hCG As If: 1241 mIU/ml	2 Days hCG As If: 1917 mIU/ml

I'm of the opinion that the rise is a little better than adequate, but I admit, I'm biased.

Here's another chart that gives an indication that my levels may be a bit higher/doubling a bit faster (mine's the little red line at toward the top).


A lot of people use beta numbers to make predictions of number of embryos implanted. It's not really as accurate, as the rate of rise is more important than the numbers themselves. For instance, though these numbers are high, they are not as high as Matthew's were on these days of the pregnancy. The clinic kept saying, "Two! Two!" and he was ONE perfect little bean. (Honestly, I just feel that my children are much like me--overachievers from the get-go...)

Which is why I'm not getting too worked up over a twin pregnancy.

The average hcg level for a single pregnancy 18dpo, which is what my first was, is 407 (mine was 806).
The average hcg level for a twin pregnancy 18dp0 is 801 (as I said, mine was 806).

The average hcg level for a single pregnancy 21dpo, which was today, is 1219 (mine was 2971).
The average hcg level for a twin pregnancy 21dpo is 2500 (again, mine was 2971).

The average doubling time for a single pregnancy is every 45.45 hours.
The average doubling time for a twin pregnancy is every 42.82 hours.

Again, my doubling time is every 38.3 hours.

So...I won't rule those of you saying twins out...but I'm still feeling one.

After what happened to Matthew, though, I don't trust a single, solitary thing I 'feel' and will just wait until the ultrasound to know for sure.

My Joy Will Not Be Stolen...

I said it then and I'm saying it now:

I will not allow my joy to be stolen.

No matter what happens with this pregnancy, whether I get to bring home a child to hold and raise, I will soak up every wonderful and miraculous thing I can while I am able to. Lord willing, that's a lifetime.

I will not allow fear to prevent me from thanking God every second for this blessing, and for rejoicing in it.

I will not allow my finite mind to conjure up things that will keep me panicked for the next 34 weeks. Goodness knows that there's enough to rock my world that I never dreamed could happen...I do not need to add to that list.

I will not allow my worries about what people will think to stop me from indulging in lavishing all the love I can on the sweet little life I have been given.

Which means that no matter how it may seem or how big the smile on my face is, the Matthew-shaped hole in my heart will forever remind me that it is a bittersweet joy I am experiencing. I've come to the conclusion that many, many mothers who have had children die feel that if they are not in a state of perpetual mourning, their love for their child may be questioned, or that the world will forget their child.

And I TOTALLY get that. I've had those same thoughts in my own mind. As I've said many, many times before...to be able to smile when you have a precious baby buried simply doesn't seem right. It's like saying black and white are the same. It just doesn't seem appropriate.

But another conclusion I've come to is that I don't care. I know that I will never forget my son. I know that he will always and forever be priceless and precious to me. I know that a vital piece of my heart is in Heaven waiting for me to get there.

And while the rest of the world forgetting about how very, very loved and missed Matthew is would hurt...deeply...his place in our lives and our family will never be forgotten by US and that's most important to me.

Knowing that, and finding assurance in that, I refuse to let the heartache I have in missing my precious baby steal one second of the joy I have for Matthew's brother or sister.

Grief has won and will undoubtedly continue to win some of the battles, but I will win the war.

I have some really big guns on my side.

So, today I bought an outfit. It's for a little girl, because that's what I think we are having. Her due date is January 16, but we will not deliver any later than 38 weeks, scheduled c-section. It's even been discussed that we'd look at between 37-38 weeks. That means that she will be born sometime, God willing, between December 26 and January 2. We know what we will name her, but will wait until we officially find out that she's a she to begin calling her that. That won't be until around the end of August.

If I felt any better, I 'd take a picture of the outfit. Honestly, though, I've been up since about 4:30--wide awake. I've been like that for a couple of days now--and I thought it was the anxiety of the test. Apparently, the really yucky nausea and sleeplessness and flu-like feelings were not the test (or the flu). Very, very, very different than how I was with Matthew.

In any event, maybe a picture for another day.

It was very hard buying that outfit. I instinctively went to the baby boy things. It broke my heart...so, so many little outfits I own and imagined my little Monkey in.

It broke my heart because everything I saw (except the Panda outfit, though that had rainbows all over it, so even THAT was significant) reminded me of someone...little cherries, little ladybugs, little birdies, little giraffes, little lambs, little bears, little dragonflies and fireflies....and the BUTTERFLIES!!! Oh...the butterflies I've been seeing and saw in some of the little outfits today. I was so very sad for every mommy I thought of.

And sad for me...because for every smile I got from one of the sweet little girl outfits, I winced a little more each time I saw a monkey...or a blanket, toy, lamp, bib, or host of other things we have upstairs in Matthew's room.

This is going to be hard.

But my joy will not be stolen.

Miney, Moe or both?

To GOD be the glory!!!!

I have been feeling really, really blech all week. The words food aversion don't even come close to matching the way my stomach has felt. Just the term "toss your cookies" makes me want to toss my cookies.

Probably because I am pregnant.

With a beta of 806.

Matthew's was 180.

The next beta is Monday.

And all I have to say is that there truly is a joy in my heart that surpasses all earthly understanding. To be able to say that I am thrilled and unbelievably happy while I know that my sweet little Matthew's room is empty during what would have been his naptime just doesn't seem logical, appropriate or right.

And yet, for the little life or lives that I have been given the privilege of mothering and hopefully raising, I have nothing, nothing, nothing but joy.

That, friends, is truly, only and solely the miracle given by the Hand of God.