My body is screwing with me

So this was our last month of trying.. and then we are taking a break till the fall to try again.

And, my body is screwing with me.

I’m NEVER late.  The last time I was late was two years ago on the mini-pill (when I also got pregnant and miscarried).

But, other than that, I’m on time.

After six months of charting, I know my period shows up every 29 days.

Exactly 29 days.

We’re on day 31.

I somehow managed to have enough patience to wait till this morning to test.  Thinking tests are ridiculously expensive (more on that later) and I didn’t want to waste one just hours before my period was due to show up.

So, I waited till this morning.

And, got a big fat negative.

But still no period.

And still random waves of nausea.

And, I’m never late.  Not even at my most stressed out.

I’m annoyed.  I just want to know, one way or the other.  Being in limbo sucks.

 

Under advisement…

(Photo credit: Bindaas Madhavi)

On Thursday, it’s our 4 year anniversary!   Which is exciting.

But, the next day, will also mark two years since my miscarriage.  Something that crosses my mind more and more often as we get ready to start trying for a baby.

Prior to the miscarriage, I’d been in to see a naturopath that has treated my mom.  While being pronounced relatively healthy, the naturopath advised me to not get pregnant at that time because my body would most likely reject the pregnancy.  As I was on the pill, and not planning to try to conceive, I took it under advisement, but didn’t really give it much thought… Till I got pregnant and miscarried.

But, in preparation for trying, I made an appointment to see her to check myself out and to see if my body needs any boost to help it when it comes to this planned pregnancy.  That appointment is tomorrow. 

I so hope my body is ready… I don’t know if I can handle postponing trying any longer.

Positivity :)

Image via CrunchBase

A month or two ago, I was bombarded with pregnancy announcements.  In the space of a few weeks, half a dozen bloggers I followed announced pregnancies, and a few other announced intentions to start trying to conceive.  Never mind people in my real life.

Because patience (and envy) are something I constantly battle, I told AMP that if one more person in my Google Reader feed announced a pregnancy I was going to quit the blogging world.

His response: he rolled his eyes and tried to explain to me that the odds of announced pregnancies is high when my Google Reader has almost 90 blogs written by women.  (I so hate it when he’s right.)

Nothing more was said on the matter.

Then yesterday I mentioned to him that Amber (who was one of my first blogging friends), just announced she is 6 weeks pregnant, and he asked me if I was quitting blogging.

And, I said no.

First of all, I’m beyond thrilled for Amber.  She has had a difficult time in the past year, suffering multiple miscarriages.  And, she is a wonderful mommy to two gorgeous kids.  And, she is just plain awesome.  I’m so happy for her and I’m praying that this pregnancy will end in tears of happiness, with another beautiful little bundle of joy.

And, I’m ok with other people being pregnant and I’m not.  Perhaps it’s a temporary feeling – but I sure hope not.

My time will come.  It will… and if it doesn’t, I will deal with it then.

But, right now, it’s all about enjoying the moments.  Enjoying my free time.  How my house stays clean for more than a day (sometimes).  How I can go back to bed if I want to.  How I can have eight (or nine or ten) uninterrupted hours of sleep…

Which brings me to a new feature I would like to try here – Enjoying Two.  Every week, I’ll focus on positivity and the benefits to being childfree a little longer.  :)   This feature is mostly for my own benefits – to keep me positive and patient… but I’d love some insight from my mommy friends on what I should enjoy now that I won’t have any more when I begin my own journey to motherhood.

 

Mrs. WorryWart

Image by Robert Bruce Murray III // Sort Of Natural via Flickr

My husband and I have a lot of common… but we’re also very different in some ways.

One big way we’re different: our thoughts on planning and the future.

I like planning.  I like knowing what is going to happen, or what might happen.  I like having a plan in place, especially when we’re talking about major life changes, such as buying a house, or having a child…. Or even things like future vacations.  I like talking about the plan.  I worry and fuss, but it helps me to pass the time and think a little less about how impatient I truly am.

AMP’s most common response to my talking is, “that’s a long ways a way.”  It doesn’t matter if it’s a month or six months or five years away – most of the time I get the same response.  Which is fine.  Everyone is different.

But, then all these thoughts and questions get stuck swirling around my head, to drive me crazy. 

Like now.

Months and months ago, AMP agreed that we could start trying for a baby next spring.  Originally with the thought of a January baby; however, the more I read blogs and articles I realize that getting pregnant may not be as ‘easy’ as I may have originally thought.  So, I have all these worries swirling around: what if it takes me a year to get pregnant?  What if I miscarry again?  What if I can’t get pregnant?  How far are we willing to go to have a baby? 

And I’m sure if I insisted, AMP would talk about it, but it would be so under duress that it’ll just get me more frustrated.

So, next month I’ll speak to my gynecologist about my plans to get pregnant next spring and ask her questions like, how far in advance should I get off the pill, how can I ready my body for a pregnancy, etc.  At least someone will be willing to give me answers.

How are you and your husband different?  How did your husband feel about starting a family?

Would you? (a work-in-progress)

My arms ache from the weight they’ve never known

The lullabies never sung, scratch tirelessly at my throat

The feel of your soft skin, cradled against my chest

A voice I’ll never know, whispering, “Mommy I love you.”

The goodnight stories we’ll never read

Cuddles and kisses we’ll never feel

Whispered conversations we’ll never have

Giggles and laughter we’ll never hear

Days and weeks and months and years

That we’ll never share

Days and weeks and months and years

and all the things I’m left to ponder

Would your hair been blonde and curly?

Would your eyelashes be as long as your daddy’s?

Would you learn to read at three?

Would you be shy like your mommy?

All the things I’ll never know

All the love you’ll never feel

Every day that passes I think of you

And miss you, my dear baby.

Poor AMP…

Image by shinkusano via Flickr

I think I’m driving my husband crazy… Actually, I know I am.  Surprisingly, he’s dealing with it very well.  Perhaps it’s partly because I warned him that he can’t hold me responsible for being an emotional wreck for the next few weeks, as the baby’s would-have-been due-date nears. 

But, still… I think the man deserves an award.  He’s put up with my moodiness… hugs me during my random crying spells… has been spending lots of time with me, and hasn’t screamed when I showed him a picture of a puppy for the 100^th time and then said no, when he asks if he should go buy it for me.

I just don’t know if I can commit to a puppy.  I know that might sound ridiculous, since I want AMP to commit to having a baby – which I know is a much bigger deal, but getting a puppy seems like such an immediate, huge step, and well…I’m not sure our current lifestyle is conducive to it.  And, anyways, having a baby and getting a puppy are such totally different things.

But, I still keep looking at ads, and showing them to him, and telling him how much I want this or that puppy, but balking at the price being asked.  And then insisting, that no, we shouldn’t spend the money and he shouldn’t go out and get it for me.

The other thing is, with how bad my allergies have been, I want to get tested for dog allergies, before we spend loads of money on a puppy I can’t even be around without sneezing or breaking into hives.  My allergist appointment is a few weeks away, so I should have an answer soon.

But, even if I’m not allergic, I don’t know if I should get a puppy.  I think (or actually, I know) that this puppy obsession is just a mask – I’m trying to replace the baby – and the puppy won’t be able to do that.  Nothing can replace the baby.

So, I’m back to square one, with no idea of what to do….I think I’m driving myself crazy, never mind poor AMP.

Facing the Sun

Helen Keller (via Wikipedia)

Not surprisingly, prompt 5 at Mama Kat’s resonated with me this week.  The prompt is:

“Keep your face to the sunshine and you can not see the shadow” – Helen Keller.  In what ways are you able to stay positive about something that sometimes brings you down?

I’ve written a lot about the miscarriage.  I’m sure everyone’s tired of hearing about it, as I am tired of thinking about it.  The words, though, bounce in my head, and they need an outlet.  Especially now.  My due date would have been November 5^th – only a week and a half from now.  As I watch the many pregnant women who surround me, and those who have just had their newborns, I can’t help but be sad – that should be me sharing ultrasound pictures, researching cribs, debating names, taking maternity photos, complaining about how impatient I am to have the baby here.  But it’s not.  And I have to learn to accept that.

I’m not a believer in destiny.  I don’t think everything happens for a reason.  I think that the scripture at Ecclesiastes 9:11 is true, ‘time and unforeseen occurrences befall us all.’  Losing the baby wasn’t a part of some master plan.  But, it happened.

Right now. I’m going crazy with baby fever.  I know part of it is the miscarriage, the other part is just me wanting to have a baby – to have a little being that’s half of me and half of AMP.  But, that’s not an option right now.  So, how am I going to stay positive?

By remembering that I have an amazing, kind, wonderful husband whom I absolutely adore – and he loves me more than anything in this world.  By cherishing the moments we have together right now, without a baby.  By strengthening our relationship before we take that giant leap.  By doing all the things people complain about not being able to do once they have kids: sleeping in, lazy Sunday afternoons spent in bed, traveling just as a couple, getting into shape.  By being the best me I can be, before I devote myself to being a mom… Before I put every ounce of energy into that little being. 

I’m not over the miscarriage.  I’m not over the desire to have a baby – but I’m more positive now.  I’m positive that one day, AMP will be ready to have a child, or as ready as we can ever be.  I’m positive that it’ll be better then, because he’ll be happy to hear the news, not shocked and sideswiped.  And I’m positive that one day, I’ll hold a little baby in my arms, and it’ll be ours.

 

the merry-go-round, take two

It spins around and around and around.  She’s standing, laughing.  Her smile is contagious.  One hand rests on the rail, the other cradles the life that is growing within her.  She wonders if it’s a girl or a boy.  She wonders if they will be blessed with their grandmother’s green eyes.  She pictures rocking her newborn to sleep.  She hears the words ‘mama’ and ‘dada’.  She sees a curly-haired toddler cuddling with daddy, learning to read.

She reaches a hand to her husband.  She is glowing with happiness.  She thinks life could never get better than this – she has it all, the husband, the house, the white picket fence, and now, this, a gift she hardly even knew she wanted.  Her husband watches her, lovingly, hypnotized by her smile.

The park is empty.  The sounds of playing children have been replaced with the quiet hum of cars rushing by and the whistle of the wind rusting the leaves.  The only other sound is the whoosing of the merry-go-round as it spins round and round. And her laughter.

Then she stops.  She is buckled over with pain.  She feels the life slipping away from her.  She lies across the floor; she’s not alone, but she’s empty inside, dizzy, spinning around on the merry-go-round.

and all I thought about was you

I was trying to write for Writing Workshop this week… 

I started a few drafts about light… and a few on summer…

And all I kept coming back to was the same thought.  If I hadn’t miscarried I would be 21 weeks right now.  I would know if my baby was a boy or a girl.  I could talk to her and she would hear me.  I could read her stories.  I could tell her about how wonderful her daddy is.

We don’t talk about the baby ever.  Not that I expect to.  AMP, like most men, doesn’t see the need to talk about something that’s in the past and that we can’t change.  And, I don’t want to bring it up.  I know he was relieved, but he was so wonderful when I told him that now I don’t want to hear any “well, it’s for the best” or “we’re not ready anyways”.  I’m not yet done mourning the loss.

I think I’ve done a good job hiding it.  Only six people know about it – AMP, my parents, my brother and Principessa.  My parents don’t seem to take it very seriously.  I guess it’s not a big deal after all.  Makes it silly that almost 4 months later I’m still thinking about it. 

But, I don’t think anyone knows that I think about it every day.  I don’t think anyone realizes that every time I see a baby, I wonder what mine would have looked like.  Every time I see a pregnant lady, I wonder how I would look pregnant – if I would be feeling my baby kick. 

It doesn’t help that everyone around me seems to be pregnant.  And they all seem to be at 18-24 weeks along.

I’m so sad.  I want to be a mom.  I really do.  I don’t know why this desire is so strong, but it’s all I think about.  I think I could be a good mom.  And I think AMP would make a great dad… But he doesn’t want to.  And I don’t want our child to have a reluctant father.  But, I still want a baby so bad.  And I don’t want to wait 3 more years, only to have AMP tell me that, no, he doesn’t think he wants to have a baby after all.  By that time I’ll be 28.  He’ll be 34.  I want to have a baby while I’m still young enough to have the energy to run after her, to play and to survive the sleepless nights.

And now, I will go back to the real world, where I pretend that everything is okay and that I don’t miss someone I didn’t even get a chance to know.

I want you

I want you.
Just you.

I miss you.  It may seem silly, since I never got to meet you.  I didn’t get to know you.  I didn’t get to feel you move within me.  You were gone so fast. 

But, still, I want you.  You would have been my firstborn.  I dream of you.  To me you’ll always be a curly-haired girl, though you may have been a boy.  I imagine you pouting.  I cannot imagine you smiling.  Smiling would have meant you were happy.  Seems impossible.  If you’d been happy you wouldn’t have…  That’s silly thinking, I know. 

But, it doesn’t change how much I miss you.  You’ll always be there – in the eyes and smiles of your future siblings (if that ever happens!).  I will watch them smile and laugh and play and miss you, my darling child, because no one will ever replace you.

- this post inspired by prompt #5 in the Writing Workshop from sleepisfortheweak.org.uk