A Very Merry Christmas

Sometimes it's hard to remember to be good, to be grateful, and to know that the world does not revolve around me. This Christmas was one of the first times I was able to keep these things at the front of my mind and to have my head and my heart in the right places this season. Going to church and remembering the "reason for the season" (but this time, for the first time, for real) reminded me to be patient and to try my best to be kind and unstressed and to think of others. This was the best Christmas ever because I was finally in the right place, spiritually, to ENJOY it for the right reasons. I feel SO blessed to have such a fantastic family and wonderful friends and to know that I have God's love and guidance to help me through hard and scary times. I feel like I will always have love to give and receive and will never be alone. Things may not always work out how I thought they would or how I wanted but I will always have love and friendship to help me through. I hope and pray that all of my friends and family will have an amazing upcoming year full of love and good times, too.

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Family Weekend

On Friday, I went with my mom to pick up my aunt Patty and cousin Kevee at the airport.  It was fun getting to hang out with my mom; we had coffee while we waited and we browsed around at a cute (and overpriced) shop at the airport.  Then we took Patty and Kevee to lunch and had a great time.  Later, we went to my aunt and uncle's and hung out with my grandma for a while.  It was the kid's last day of school; and, of course, Taryn's birthday, so everyone came over to our house for a bit after I got the kids and then we all met up with my aunt Becky, uncle Dick, and cousin Steph and her boyfriend Ryan for pizza later.  (Pietra's... YUM!)  I got Taryn a chocolate, whipped cream, and oreo cake, and managed to fumble the piece she wanted and dropped it all over the table (much to her dismay, oops!)  Despite that, I'm pretty sure miss Taryn had a good 8th birthday day (even though she was upset that her teacher forgot to pretend spank her) : )

On Saturday, Taryn had a party at her karate school, and was joined by a few of her closest girlfriends and Ryan's parents and sister Kate and her new husband Eddy.  My brother John (Taryn's bestie) came, too, which was nice.  The kids got to run around and burn off a TON of steam, it was fun to watch (I kinda wish I had participated in some of the activities!)  Taryn got to cut her cake in half with a samurai sword (PRICELESS facial expressions!)

And she got lots of cool gifts, including a black watch with skulls (too cool), a seashell jewelry making kit, and a Justin "Beaver" (UGH) shirt, which she loved!  Right after that we headed up to Evergreen (so pretty!) for Trent's boy scout holiday party, which was held at one of the leader's parent's ranch.  It was chilly (it was held in a barn), but there was lots of good food, a visit from Santa, and the kids got to go "sledding" (there wasn't much snow, so some **brave** grown-ups pushed the kids down a little icy path on the sleds).  We headed home around four for a little r&r, but that plan was thwarted by a call from my mom, wondering if everyone could come by and watch a movie and hang out.  That sounded like fun, so I straightened up the house, dug out a bunch of boy scout popcorn (some I still had from LAST year-yeesh), and was interrupted by the door bell ringing half an hour EARLY.  WTF I thought.  Turned out my mom had been trying to call, and everyone was going to Steph and Ryan's, instead.  Oh, well, at least our house was clean (for a day, at least).  We decided to pass, and instead had an early dinner, then went to see Tron.  It was TOTALLY AWESOME!  (Even for the fifty bucks it cost for the 4 of us to go).  BUT, my poor little lady crashed within 10 minutes of the movie starting : )  She slept through the entire movie in my lap (awwwww!)

On Sunday, we had plans to meet my mom, grandma, Patty, and Kevee at church, but my aunt Pam (Patty's twin, and Steph's mom) had flown in that morning (the weather was too bad for her to come on Saturday, like she had originally hoped to), so Patty and Kevee went with Steph to get her.  We met up with Ron and Becky (my in-laws) and my mom and grandma, and I was glad that my mom enjoyed the service.  It was a good one-- a Christmas message about king Herod being threatened by baby Jesus' birth, and how we still are threatened by Jesus because if he is in charge, if he is king, then we are not.  It was a good lesson about control, and struggling to let Jesus lead our lives and be the one in control.  Afterward, my mom, grandma, Patty, Pam, Steph, and Kevee came over and we hung out and chatted for quite a while.  It's always a crazy time when my mom and the twins are together (my mom is only 15 months older than them), so it was great to see them together, telling wild stories.  At five, we all met up downtown and had dinner at cafe Rialto, which was totally yummy, and then we headed off to see The Nutcracker ballet.  The Colorado Ballet does a great performance, and we've started to make it a yearly tradition.  2 years ago, my mom, Taryn, and I went; last year, the 3 of us plus Trent (who WANTED to go, who'da thunk it?) and Pam went, and this year there were NINE of us!  (I wonder how many will go next year?!)  I felt bad for not thinking to invite my mother-in-law and her mom, and my sis-in-law, Kate. : (  Trenty gets a BIG kick out of the male dancer's tight tights, it's fun to tease him about for weeks to come!  Unfortunately, Pam, Patty, and Kevee all are leaving Monday morning, so we bid them good-bye after the ballet, but it was really awesome to have such a nice weekend filled with fun and love from much of our big, wild, family.

My Baby Girl

IS EIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't believe it!! Happy birthday, sweet little lady!

I Wish I Could Say

"Fuck you!"  When the response to, "who'd like to start" (ordering) is, "the pregnant one!"  It's not a stranger's fault, but it is just too soon to have it in my face ALL. THE. TIME.  Especially when "the pregnant one" looks to be about as pregnant as I should be.  That's all, just griping.  I know I shouldn't be so bitter.

I Hate to Admit This

I just realized that 2 days ago marked 4 months since we learned our precious baby was not going to join us.  And I am ashamed to admit that I didn't even think of it on Monday.  : (  I knew the date (we had like 50 things going on), and it didn't even hit me.  What the hell is wrong with me?

For ME?!?!?!?!

The LOVELY Katharine (check her out!!) has graced me with a blog AWARD!  I am so happy, but I have to break the rules of the award (a little), because I don't follow many blogs.  BUT!! Look how cute the cherry on top award is!



The rules of this award are:
1. Link back to the person who gave it to you
2. Pass it on to five (or more) other blogs
3. Leave them a comment telling them about the award

I know many of you who read my blog (and there are more than 4 of you, but to those 4, thanks for officially following), also read Katharine's blog, Grow Baby Grow, but if you never have, do!  She's the mother to 2 little girls in Heaven:  Hannah (who was due this August), and Audrey, who would've joined us in March, like Taylor.

Unfortunately, I don't keep up with 5 more blogs regularly, so here's my pledge to do so!

I, Alex, pledge to check out more blogs, I DO enjoy them!

Here are the blogs I pass this award on to (in no particular order):

1.  CarlyMarie.  Ok, so it's not like this award from me is going to even probably be noticed, because Carly Marie Dudley is HUGE!!! But seriously, with all she does, how can I NOT recognize her?!  She is the AMAZING woman behind To Write Their Names in the Sand, amongst so much more to the baby loss world.  What an absolutely phenomenal lady!!!!

2. I don't know if this is legal, but I'm going for it anyway:
Love Reign Over Me.  This is Carly's old blog.  I love it for several reasons though, one being that it came to an end.  Hold on! Let me explain...  I guess I never thought of a blog as being finite.  Some people write forever, things change some, but it's basically indefinite.  Some probably just get deleted when the person is done.  Some people maybe just give up and the whole thing falls by the wayside.  Not this one.  She wrote for a reason, and she ended the blog to start somewhere new and fresh.  I think that's beautiful!  I can't link back to it, because it is open to readers who are invited only, but I still think it counts!

3.  Forget-me-not, Oh Lord!  is written by Jamie, and although she's the one who (kind of) got this whole ball rolling (to me, at least, by awarding Katharine, who awarded me), she's most definitely worth mentioning here!  I looked back through her journey and it touched my heart that she, like me, was able to see her baby's heart beating on her birthday, which was the day before mine : )  Also, check out the pic of the 8 week old baby on her blog.  It's so beautiful!!!  If there's any doubt about when a baby "becomes" a baby, the pic she posted should squash that!

4.  Kate, at Busted Plumbing, most definitely can be described as awesome!  Why?  Because she can laugh!  And sometimes, you just have to.  I love her attitude, it is so inspiring : )

And, that's all I've got, folks.  Hopefully soon I'll be following so many blogs, I won't be able to just narrow it to only five (or four, or well, technically just 3, I guess).

Church and Music

So...
I randomly decided to start attending church again.  Ok, it's not really that random.  It's been on my mind for a while now I just didn't know where to go.  Last week I went with Ron and Becky (my in-laws) again, and I found that what they were saying there was exactly what I have been needing to hear!  We went again today (Ryan came, too, he works every other Sunday) and again, another great message that helped give me a new perspective on things that have been bothering me lately.  One thing this church does yearly is host a Christmas tea for the women of the congregation, so I attended that with Becky and Gloria (her mom) yesterday.  The theme this year was "simply Christmas," yet ANOTHER message I needed pounded in!!  I am happy to have reminders of 1.  The real reason for the season (no, it's NOT going in to debt, stress, and presents!) and 2. to keep things simple and ENJOY.  I wanted to share that!

As a side note, I would love to thank Jenny and Jenn for suggesting their churches to me, as well.  And to both of these lovely ladies, I still would love to come with you sometime!! I'm sure if you like your church homes, they'll have something to offer me, as well.

And just a quick note on the music.  I tried to add some a long time ago but it didn't really work out, partially because I was not able to come up with many good ideas for what would be appropriate on my own.  SO, I cheated and googled "songs for miscarriage" and simply added them to the playlist.  This was a good route for me because it really did give some great ideas for songs that I never would have listened to otherwise.  A lot of these songs really spoke to my heart about the topic of loss, so I hope you'll enjoy them, too!

<3

Pangs

It happens all the time:
I'm minding my own business, and then BAM! a comment, a question, a baby, a belly. 
I know it is no one's fault.
I know people don't know, and who doesn't just LOVE pregnant ladies and babies?! (Me, that's who)
"She's having a girl in March," I overhear.
"We need to feed the kids" says a dad, patting the mom's belly.
And even, "I just saw a cute baby over there, mom."
No, I am not mad at how "mean" and "insensitive" people are; everyone has something bad and I'm a big fan of "get over it," "move on."
It's not even like a stab from a knife anymore.
Just a little pang of hurt.
It's usually unexpected.
I don't know if it will ever stop.

Shane... You Should be 22 Today, Kid

I remember my mom coming over on July 29, 2009; we were supposed to be going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.  I didn't notice at first that she was acting funny, then I caught it.  The glimmer in her eye that she was upset.  She tried to smile quickly to cover it when she saw I noticed, but it was too late.  "What's wrong?"  She was so upset, "I don't even want to tell you," she blurted in a voice quivering with tears.  I definitely wasn't expecting what came next.  Shane.  My cousin, who I thought I knew, but figured out too late, really didn't.  He'd been in a bad skateboarding accident.  He was already gone by this point but my poor grandma didn't have the heart to tell my mom yet.  She told me he "might be brain dead."  She was so hopeful over dinner (NOT a birthday celebration, just a quick jaunt somewhere nearby so the kids could eat).  I knew deep down there was nothing to be hopeful for.  "Can we call mom again," she asked when we got back to my house.  Of course I wanted to, I was eager that there was a decent prognosis but I just had a feeling there was not.  I knew immediately it was bad as my mom blurted, "Oh, mom!" and started crying hysterically.  I couldn't believe it.  It felt like one of those crazy stories you read in Reader's Digest and feel so terrible for the family but never think anything like it could happen to someone you know.  I was so upset, he was by far Trent's favorite of my relatives and he didn't take it well.  I sat on my kitchen floor crying, "he's just a kid, he's just a kid."  After staying up nearly all night, then awaking the next day to the thought, "Shane Braselton is dead" immediately haunting me, the thought that I couldn't shake next was for my aunt and uncle.  I was profoundly overwhelmed with grief that they had lost their child. 

Lot's of good came from losing Shane.  He was an organ donor, so right now, there are people who live because he did not.  His small town, Craig, CO, hosts "lid jam" at the end of July, offering free helmets to people who pledge to always wear them.  My aunt and uncle and other cousins, his older brother, sister, and sister in law, are amazingly strong people.  He has a nephew now who shares his middle name.  Shane definitely is not forgotten!  Especially not today.  Happy Birthday, Shane!  I know many people wish you were still here to celebrate it.

I'm A Dumbass

Despite having this aching knowing deep down that I never will have another baby (especially not the triplets I dreamt about before I got pregnant with Taylor), I can't seem to stop getting my hopes up.  So the other day, even though I knew it was completely unrealistic, I purchased some pregnancy tests and took one.  The reason why is because I have been super clumsy lately, and also put on some weight-- but that is easily explained by my terrible diet as of late.  Each time I'd clumsily fumble something that ray of hope would shine through, it is one of my main pregnancy symptoms.  A little voice urged me to just check, so I decided to, even though  I knew I just bled recently.  But because it was ten days early I just figured maybe my body isn't back to normal yet, and I thought maybe it was just a fluky thing and maybe I could be lucky again.  So like a thief in the night, I stopped by the store after work on Friday, after I picked up the kids (there was no store on the way to get them), sent them to look at Christmas things, and got the tests.  I went through the self checkout, shoved them into the bottom of my purse, then went back for the kids, trying hard to act casual, like it was normal to stop by the store for nothing.  When we got home, I headed straight for the bathroom, took the test, and tried to stay calm, reminding myself that the odds were extremely low that it would be positive.  I put the wrapper deep down in the trash, the extra tests as far back on the top shelf as I could toss them, and looked at the test, trying not to be eager.

Of course it was negative.

So I'm just fat and clumsy.

And hoping for something I am more than likely never going to have.

Thankful

I read somewhere that if you are having trouble falling asleep to pray the ABCs,  I liked the idea so well that I have decided to make a list while I am awake and prepared to think hard about what I appreciate.  Here is an ABC list of all the things I am grateful for:

A:  Alex.  I am glad to be me, even though I am not perfect and have made lots of mistakes, I am happy to be me, flaws and all, at the place I am in my life.  I am in a grateful place where I know what I have and I know how to appreciate it.  While I have had some bumps along the way, I am in a good place now where I am a better person and on a path to being even better.

B: Babies.  All 3 of my wonderful babies have been an amazing gift, and while sometimes it seems unfair that I have lost one, and sometimes the other 2 no longer seem like babies, all 3 are a piece of me and I would not change my experiences with  any of them.

C:  Coffee.  This is one of those little things, but it makes me happy any way.  The smell, the taste, sipping it with friends (though I don't get to do that one enough).  Try as I might, I cannot decrease my addiction to coffee, and everyone who knows me knows how much I love it!

D:  Drama.  Other people's. It reminds me to avoid the b.s. and to live happily and simply.  It also reminds me to let the past be the past and to overcome rather than be a victim.

E:  Education.  I may not be where I want to be, but I am blessed to have been able to finish my college education and to have the opportunity to pursue it even further.  I love school and hope my children will grow to value education as well.

F:  Fun.  Sometimes I complain that I don't get enough of this, but each time I do, whether it be alone, with my husband, kids, or friends, I am grateful for it.  I thrive on getting out and having a good time.  Also, of course, FRIENDS!  Some have come and gone over the years, some make me mad, some are a bit flaky, but many are full of support, love, and strength, and sometimes I couldn't get through the days without them.  So for friends who have been both bad and good, you've all made me stronger in some way.  Thank you!!!

G:  God.  I have been back and forth with this, and I am relieved that I understand better now what it means to believe and have faith.

H:  Hope.  Even when I am down, I know it is always important to have hope and faith that things will and do work out as they should and that no matter what happens, I have the strength and courage to deal with it.  And, although I am NOT a homebody, Home.  I love having a home of my own and a place where I am building fantastic memories with my family.  I am SO lucky to have a beautiful home with 3 wonderful people to share it with.

I:  Integrity.  I am a far cry from perfect.  I have made a LOT of mistakes and I have done things which are shameful and I never imagined I'd be capable of doing.  However, I have at least managed to grow from that and do pride myself in having the integrity to be a good person and to push myself to do the right things, not the easiest things.

J:  John, John, and Jon.  John Michael Mackey, my little brother; John Raymond Taylor, my best friend who is no longer alive; and Jonathan Christopher Sparks, the best friend I have who is still alive.  Hearts!

K:  Kooky.  Is this a real word?  Well, since I already went on about my babies, "kids" is out, so kooky it is.  I am glad that I have the silly personality that I do.  I don't always let it out, but I would definitely say that I can be very kooky, and I enjoy it!

L:  Love.  Live.  Life.  I am happy to be alive, and thank God each time I open my eyes to a new day.  I am happy to have people to love, and people who love me.  I am happy that I know many forms of love; romantic, friendly, and parental. 

M:  Mom.  Sometimes she may drive me nuts (like when she doesn't give me credit for being a grown-up!) but she has been a terrific role model and has always put me and my brother first.  She is hardworking, caring, helpful, everything anyone could ask for in a mother!  I cannot imagine where I'd be without her.  Also, music.  I mean, seriously, it's one of my favorite things!  I can't imagine life without it, I am a music-aholic!

N:  Neighbors.  I do have some great neighbors, and it is nice to know that there is a wonderful sense of friendship and community right outside my door.

O:  Openness.  I don't possess it, but I am learning.  I am hopeful that one day I can say this is something I am more comfortable with.  I think as I grow and learn, I am a better judge of who I can and cannot trust, and who are and are not good friends, so I do think someday this will be much easier for me.

P:  Don't laugh.  Peter.  Peter Steele, my "pretend husband," the love of my life who I never met.  I would be the first person to agree that it is silly to be obsessed with a celebrity, but he is my one exception.  His music changed my life, made me feel like I was normal when I was sad, gave me hope, and made me cry sometimes.  He was a constant I never imagined we'd already be without.  I am happy to have just been in the same room as him (6 times, and yet not enough).  Heart!  Forever!

Q:  Quiet.  I consider myself to be hypersensitive to sensory stimuli.  Get the TV AND a conversation going in the same room, and I go bonkers fairly rapidly.  So sometimes peace, quiet, and even a chance to just pray or meditate is the best thing ever.

R:  Rainbows.  No matter when I see one, I always view it as a sign of hope, a reminder that no matter how dark, scary, or long the storm, there is always hope that there will be something beautiful afterwards and that things aren't always bad.

S:  Schell.  My last name.  My grandfather's last name (may he be resting in peace, I can't believe it's been almost 20 years!).  My children's last name.  Family is very important to me, and I have been blessed to be born into an amazing family, the Schell family.

T:  Well, duh,  Trent Michael, Taryn Angelina, and Taylor.  My 3 amazing children.  What more could I ask for, one wonderful boy, one wonderful girl, and one sweet angel.  You guys are my life and my world.

U:  Understanding.  I like to think that I am un-judgemental and that I try to have an understanding for people of all different walks of life.  I like to see or hear more than one side to any story.  I know it is not my place to judge or persecute others.  I can only try to be a good listener and be open to learning other perspectives.

V:  Van Otterloo.  My husband's last name.  An amazing family that I was lucky enough to be invited to be a part of.  A large group of fun, tradition, and laughter.

W:  Writing.  It is the best way to be expressive.  I enjoy writing here, on my blog, but even more so in my journal.  I feel like ink to a pen is so rewarding, so personal, and beautiful.  It leaves room for even more expression, as it is not always perfect, unlike typing.  Sometimes I have trouble expressing myself, but writing always gives me an outlet for saying whatever I want to.

X:  Ok, here I've got nothing!  Not xanax (luckily), not xylophone (while I did play percussion, we never really did this).  X for aleX and having one of the most obscure letters in my own name?

Y:  You.  All of you.  Anyone who I call a friend, or who cares enough to be reading this, has made an impact on me in some important way.  So, thanks, to each and every one of you.

Z:  Zest.  Mostly this comes from others.  I wouldn't necessarily describe myself as having a lot of zest or excitement, but I certainly do admire and have learned a lot from those who do.

What are you grateful for?

Distracted

I feel like I am constantly holding myself back.  I worry about things that are out of my hands, unlikely, or both.  I worry about the state of the world, my health, et cetera; I waste so much time hanging around the house doing not much of anything, especially not things I WANT to do, like draw, scrapbook, and so on, and oftentimes not even the things I NEED to do, like take care of the house, take care of myself, or finish school.  What I do not do enough of is LIVE and enjoy my life!  Maybe my health is not perfect, maybe sometimes I get down and need help, maybe there are scary things happening in the world that I wish I could fix or help or change, but those are not very good reasons to not remember to live, enjoy, and laugh!  I have been blessed with many things, and yet I keep myself in a state of mind that allows me to waste days in front of the T.V., computer, or both and not to just get out and have a good time.  I need help finding the motivation to stop distracting myself with unimportant drivel and to start living!  I am completely open to ANY suggestions at this point!  I am just so tired of feeling like I am not enjoying each wonderful day that I DO have.  Sometimes I wonder if maybe I AM crazy.

Sick

So I'd love to say that everything is fine and I feel great and am totally relieved.  To a degree, my mind has been put to ease a little bit, but the worrier in me knows that I really have been sick and even though 1 doctor didn't think it was as serious as I thought (which I truly am relieved about), that it doesn't just explain away everything.  I hate getting back to this square one point where I want to smile and be relieved but there's still a little nagging voice telling me that no explanation still isn't good enough.  I know I have been cryptic and I will continue to be, but I do appreciate the love, worry, and support.  I want everyone to know that I am more ok than I thought and that I will try harder to be happier now that some weight has been lifted.

Happy Birthday, Trenty

My baby boy is 11! I seriously can NOT believe it!  It seems like just yesterday when I found out he was coming along, it's so hard to believe that more than 11 years of ups and downs have happened and now I have an amazing boy in 5th! grade.  I am so grateful for each moment I have had with him.  He was such a sweet, beautiful baby, a funny little toddler, always the entertainer.  Now he's a little man! He has given me so many amazing moments and never fails to put a huge smile on my face.  I am so lucky to have him and to have learned how to be a mommy and a grown up with him.  I will never get tired of looking at his cute little face and giving him so much love. I look forward to many more great moments with him <3

Lonely

I appreciate the people who care, and how much they do.  It is hard for me to open up and despite trying to, I am still struggling with it.  I have had a lot on my mind and have been very distant.  I know I have been alienating myself and it is hard on the people who care.  I know I have been offered listening ears, support, and help, which I have not accepted.  I feel bad for startling people and then not talking with them when they offer an ear. I have been hard to be around; preoccupied, distant, grumpy, upset.  I feel at fault for the position I am in, I just can't talk about it right now.  I have hope that things will work out ok, but I am terrified of the possibility that they will not.  I have been in a constant state of worry about what if's and I WILL get to the point where I have the guts to work it out, and I hope and pray it does work out ok.  I look forward to the future and having all of this worry and struggle behind me.  I hope that the people who care can put up with this for a bit longer.  I do appreciate (and need) the love and support, even if I do not always accept it. 

If You Haven't Walked in My Shoes, Please Don't...

tell me how to feel.

try to comfort me by saying something was wrong with the baby; it's not like it helps to think that he or she was so messed up that they couldn't live.

ask me why I am sad.

tell me you understand.

make the grief yours.  This was MY baby! My BABY growing, and dying, in my body.  You have NO idea how that feels.

remind me of what I have.  I KNOW that I am lucky to have two amazing, sweet, kind children, a sweet husband and a lovely home.  I KNOW I have been blessed.  I KNOW  (trust me, I know, I thank God for each day with these kids and every time I hold them in my arms) I have amazing children and I am GRATEFUL for that!  SO grateful.  Those things do not make it less painful to have lost this baby.

say I should be happy for people.  I AM.  I am happy for all of the new mommy's in my life!  I understand what a wonderful, awe inspiring thing it is to have a baby, ESPECIALLY your first.  It still hurts to be reminded of what I have lost.  And yes, I DO feel like an asshole for that.  Please don't expect me to be ecstatic, to want to see ultrasound, and preggo, and new baby pictures.  It just hurts.  I shouldn't have to explain or apologize for that. 

push.  If I don't want to talk, please do not pry.  If I am tired and sad, please let me have space instead of smothering me and trying to make me feel better.  You are not going to be able to say anything to change my mind and make me feel like this is ok, or make it easier.

It's not like I'm not sorry.  I don't want the world to feel sorry for me!!!  I want to be happy for other people, I am, and try SO hard to be, a good person.  I just need some time.

Too Much

I haven't said much lately here (or anywhere) because I have too much going on in my mind and everything feels crazy and up in the air lately.  I haven't been feeling well, for one thing, and that's been a little troublesome.  I know I should just go to the doctor but I think that's scary.  I also go back and forth thinking I'm fine or else I'm super sick and terrified to find out for sure.  I did express my concerns to one friend but she just laughed.  I think she thinks I'm just trying to be dramatic but as she's known me for about 14 years, she should know better.  I'm the type who will go to work half dead and insist I'm fine, so if I'm alarmed that I could actually be seriously sick, wouldn't it make sense that maybe I have a reason to think so?  Anyway, though, I really don't want to talk about that.  I just kinda wanted to get it off my chest because it has been on my mind quite a bit lately.

Another thing is that I just can't seem to get anything done.  I feel trapped in my messy house and I just have not been able to keep up on things.  I feel like stuff just piles up and piles up and is about to come crashing down around me.  It is frustrating!! I have no idea what I have been doing lately, but it obviously is not keeping up on the house or any other responsibilities.  I am behind on PTA stuff and I don't even care anymore.  I just feel like I am burdened by all of these things that I should care about but just don't.  I guess I should stop trying to do more than I can handle, but i see other's who seem to be able to do it all, so why can't I?  I want to be able to help my kids with their scout stuff, to be involved with PTA so I can make a difference in their school, keep a nice home, and help cultivate their interests (like karate lately), but I do not seem to have the energy (or interest) in doing all of this.  I don't know what's wrong with me!!

Some other things that have been on my mind is that we are somehow low on money, and work is open this year on Christmas (which is total bullshit but I have no idea how to get out of it).  I don't know how we got low on funds, and I know I have money set aside for birthdays and Christmas and Ryan will be getting money back from having to travel but it's just another thing on my list that is concerning me.  We aren't in serious trouble or anything like that, it is just another thing I don't feel like dealing with.  It probably didn't help that I've had to miss work periodically but with losing Taylor, and then Ryan travelling, and Ryan having to travel again, plus taking a day off here and there, it's been unavoidable to miss time.  I am also pissed and freaking out a bit that we are actually open this year on Christmas.  My boss says, "we are in the service industry, so we signed up to work holidays," but I have worked there for 12+ years and this is the first time we've been open on Christmas.  I signed up for a job where when I started, the boss was fair about scheduling on holidays (3 hour shifts for EVERYONE. Period.), but also WE WERE ALWAYS CLOSED ON CHRISTMAS!  I hate working for a company that is so greedy it would prefer to ruin ALL of it's employee's holiday just to make a few extra bucks.  I am seriously considering looking for a new job that I can start before Christmas or quitting, but I can not afford to just up and quit.  So, so, so stressed out about the holidays!  It's already hard enough with the kids' birthday's near the holidays and trying to figure out a menu that can accommodate Ryan's health, Kate and Eddy's beliefs (vegan), and Mark's desired diet, but now I have to toss work into the mix.  UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!  Plus this is the first time in about 15 years that my grandma may be coming for Christmas.  I HAVE to get out of working it!  It's 2 months away and I'm already stressing big time.  It makes me furious!!  I have to get out of that place, I hate it!!

Also, I don't know why I haven't been taking working out seriously but I just don't feel like doing it.  I still walk 3 days a week but I don't keep up on the other things I was doing, I don't make the effort to walk on weekends or after work when I work days, I don't even take the 5 minutes to get on the wii fit to do my body test everyday anymore.  I have no excuse for this.  But I feel tired and have no energy and my weight has been all over the place lately so I really should take it more seriously.  It wouldn't kill me to devote half an hour a day to exercise and keep track of how I'm doing, or to eat better, or to take my vitamins everyday, but I just have not been doing it.  I have no idea why I have lost all motivation, but it's gone.  Part of me does not even care anymore.

With all of this craziness going on I feel like I am losing my mind.  I dread work EVERY time I go, I am getting burned out with my new schedule (the Thursday night to Friday mornings is just killing me! And I hate working with one of the people who works on both of those shifts), I have been preoccupied and grouchy and worried and I am being stupid and stubborn and I know it but I don't know who to talk to or who can help me or just be by my side (Ryan has to work the rest of the week and go out of town next week), and I am behind on all of my priorities and am starting to feel like I am never going to catch up.  I have been so exhausted and I don't even know why.  I really need to figure out a new schedule! I just have no idea where to start with anything!  I am tired of feeling so lost but I don't know how to catch up or who can help me. 

In the midst of all of this, I haven't even been able to think about Taylor very much.  I didn't light a candle on Friday, I tried not to think about it being the day it was (even though in the back of my mind I had been planning to focus that day on Taylor, and the other sweet babies we no longer have), and yesterday I had planned to do a special blog entry but then had the time and energy and emotion to spend 5 minutes writing a few lines that did not give the situation and feelings justice.

The only good thing I have given myself time for is thanking God for getting new days each time I wake up, and for being with my sweet kids and hoping and praying that I will have a long, long time to be here enjoying them.  Sometimes I am afraid that Taylor left so I could, too.  I want to be here with Trent and Taryn for a LONG time to come.  Maybe that sounds crazy but it just comes to mind sometimes.  And it totally scares me!  : (

Halfway There

Today I should be 20 weeks.  If I were still pregnant, how happy and excited would I be to be halfway there?  I'd be feeling the baby move... I'd know if Taylor was a he or a she now...

Instead I am wondering what might have been, and if there is a reason this happened, and what it might be.

I am angry and upset.

October 15th

Today is baby loss awareness/ remembrance day.  I remember finding out about it last year and I felt so sad over J.J. then.  I never thought I'd be in the position to know how it feels to lose a child.  I never thought that the pain I saw in my best friend's eyes and the tears I tried to help stop pour from his eyes would be mine a year later.  I didn't know that I'd have to ask him for advice on how to feel, what to say or think, or just what to DO in general to not have it tear me apart.  It's getting easier and that scares the hell out of me.  But just because the days continue to be livable and life goes on (they say) doesn't mean I don't love and miss Taylor terribly.  I can't believe it's been 9 weeks already since I found out.  Tuesday will mark what should be my 20th week of pregnancy, the exciting halfway there point.  It still hurts, I just have not let it hurt as much as it should lately, I think.  It is such an all-consuming thing if you let it be.  But I don't think trying to live like normal is the best thing either..... I don't know where I'm going with this, just rambling I guess.  I'm in a constant state of feeling lost over all of this.  I can't even describe it.

Here's something I heard, loved, and want to throw out there.  I heard an analogy somewhere that I think is good to keep in mind.  If your dad died, and you grieved, would that mean you love your mom less to be sad over losing him?  No!  Of course not.  That's how it is with losing a baby, too.  Yes, I have AMAZING children.  It does not mean Taylor did not or does not matter.  He or she was their own person, with their own special place in my heart.  I love Taylor, and I lost Taylor, and OF COURSE that does not make the children I have here with me any more or less important.  I love them all for who they are and I should be allowed to grieve without being reminded of what I have, as if that makes it less hard somehow.

Don't forget that.

So today is the day to remember my Taylor, and all of those other special babies who live with God and not their parents.  Please take a little time to remember today, and every October 15. 1 in 4 knows what it feels like to say goodbye to their baby before they got to meet them, so please spread the word (and the love and support), you probably know someone who really needs it!  And if you don't know what to say to those who have lost, don't let that be an excuse to say nothing.

Me

There are a lot of things about me that I hope to change soon.  I am tired of worrying and freaking myself out; I do not know when this became a habit for me, but I am tired of doing it to myself and I hope I can learn how to stop, or to shape it into something more reasonable and productive.  I really need to strengthen myself through prayer and by doing what is right as often as possible and to the best of my ability so that I can put my worry elsewhere and enjoy living this one and only life I have been given.  I need to stop doubting my worth as a person and I need to stop doubting others.  My ego and pride get in the way sometimes when I feel underestimated or insulted; I need to figure out how I can change my reaction to this and how I can put myself in situations and near people where this may not happen so much.  There are so many things I want to do and be, and I need to start living my life and stop worrying about things that are out of my hands.  I used to be so much stronger, happier, and I used to have the ability to roll with the punches and go with the flow, I don't know when, where, or how I lost all that!  And I'm not really sure how to get it back, but I need to try!

Wondering When....

I am wondering when:

When will it not hurt to see a burgeoning tummy
Or a tiny baby or child with their mother

When I can walk past baby things and not turn my head away
Or wonder why I don't even know if it was a he or a she

When my stomach will no longer feel the empty ache
Or when I'll stop counting the days and weeks that should've been

When I won't have a cutting comment in my mind
Or when I can be truly happy for new parents

When will I be strong enough to say "it's ok"
Or if I'll ever mean it

Coincidence

I took the night off tonight to go to a play with the kids, through boy scouts.  We saw Dracula at a local theater and it was a lot of fun.  The kids got to wear their Halloween costumes, so it was kind of nice for them to be able to wear them already, and to be able to use them more than once, even though Trent just wore his new karate uniform and brought the  nunchucks from his ninja costume along.  It was really cool to be able to spend extra time with the kids (as it always is) and to get out and do something different.  Afterward, the people who own the theater gave the kids a tour of the theater and talked about the theater and taught the kids some general things about acting and stage directions.  I think both of the kids enjoyed it; Ryan and I did, also.

The "coincidence" of all this is that, on the very first step of the tour, the instant we walked backstage, something immediately caught my eye.  A small section of the brick wall was painted white, and people who had visited or been a part of the theater had written their names on the wall.  Guess which name jumped right out at me the second we stepped backstage?  If you said "Taylor Schell," then you were right!  How crazy is that?!  It kind of made me feel like no matter what, there would always be little reminders that my baby was someone who meant a lot, and that I (and others) will never forget : )  It's a great feeling!

Ryan took a picture:

I am also thrilled that Taylor's name has been written in the sand!!  The original request didn't go through so we just emailed them back with what we would like the memorial to say.  I can't wait to see it all when it's done : )

http://namesinthesand.blogspot.com/2010/10/taylor-schell-van-otterloo.html

Update: recevied reply email yesterday, this link will now take you to the pic with how we wanted the memorial to read.  Love it!

Strong Enough

Being a mom is one of the hardest things anyone could hope to be.  While it is amazingly rewarding, it is also full of struggle, heartache, headaches, and tears.  A mom's job is to teach her children to be good, responsible, kind, thoughtful individuals.  Yet the better the mom does that job, the more she needs to be able to let her children grow and learn, sometimes without her.  As the kids get older I struggle constantly with this.  When the kids want to do something on their own, and widen their boundaries a bit more, the good mom in me says "yes" while the worrying hoverer screams "no!" but luckily that no is usually just in the back of my mind.

I want to be a mom who is a mother, a role model, and a good influence and not one who tries to be cool and be a friend.  My kids deserve more than that!  They need ME (how amazing!) to teach them right from wrong, to provide boundaries, and to let them grow into whoever they choose to be.  The older they get the harder this becomes.  I hope I can always do a good job at this, but, sometimes I don't always know if I am or not.  As Trent approaches 11 (!!!!) it becomes more and more apparent that he isn't just a child.  We're still close, I just want to have the strength to be the PARENT he'll need as he grows into a man.  Sometimes this is so scary!  Will I really have the nerve to talk to him about drugs, sex, peer pressure, succeeding at his interests?  Will we be close enough that he'll want to listen, or at least take to heart some of what I have to teach? 

Mostly I worry that as we all grow, we will have times where we grow a bit further from each other.  Am I strong enough to be able to go through those tough times when they don't like me and we don't see eye to eye?  Am I brave enough to be the role model they will need?  Do I have the courage to say no to them when it is what they need but not what they want to hear?  I always hope and pray that I am and will be a good mother; I really need continued strength within and support from others to do so.

What Next?

It kind of boggles my mind that immediately after having a miscarriage, one of the first questions to come up is "What next?"  Meaning, "are you going to try again?" "do you want to try again?" "when are you trying again?"  After going through a loss of this magnitude, all I can honestly say is that I have no idea where to even start.  Just thinking about it puts me in panic mode.  I still have not processed everything, and I certainly have not dealt with it all in productive ways, either.  Now that some time has passed, things are starting to get better; but certainly not right after this happened could I have even rationally began to consider anything serious involving what next. 

At this point, I ask myself, "What IS next?"  Still, I don't know.  I don't know what I want, I don't know what to think, I don't know how to feel, I don't know what to do.  Just trying to work out all of the options, all of the problems, and all of the considerations seriously seems totally daunting.  My mind may not be ready to deal with this yet.  Maybe it never will, I may just have to force myself through and past it.  To the question, do I want to have another baby or try again, the answer is yes.  The more problematic questions are, can I try again, do I have the strength to be in this position again, am I emotionally ready to deal with this yet?  Well, probably not so much.  That is where I get stumped.  Of course everyone says this wasn't my fault but for one, we don't (and never will) know that for sure, and two, it is still easy to think that maybe it was.  I did the best I could but there is no way to know if maybe, despite caring for my body and this child, something I did or did not do caused this.  Another troublesome factor is maybe something is wrong with us.  Yes, I have had healthy babies, but that doesn't mean I am fine enough to have another.  Maybe something is wrong with me, or Ryan, or both of us, or the combination of us.  When we first got married, there were a couple times where I was sure that if I was going to get pregnant, it would have been then, and then that month I'd have heavy periods and wonder if I had been pregnant and it did not work out.  Now that this has happened, it worries me more than ever that this was not the first baby we lost, just the first we knew about.  It also makes me feel really terrible that I wasn't even more concerned back then when I did wonder.  I always felt let down and worried, of course, when I kind of hoped to be pregnant and wasn't; but if we lost other precious children, I wish we knew for sure, and I wish we knew why.  Another issue is time.  It took FOREVER to get pregnant.  I don't want to wait another 4 years to see if it happens again.  I already felt like we had put too much time between Trent and Taryn and this pregnancy, I don't want to go on hoping and waiting for more YEARS.  I know that the rational answer is to go to the doctor and see what they say.  I do have some concerns with this as well.  For one, if something was wrong with one or both of us, would we want to know and would we be prepared to deal with it?  Secondly, I no longer have a doctor I feel I can trust.  When I had Taryn I LOVED the place I went to; this time, I hated going there and was unimpressed with their practices and their disorganization.  There were concerns and issues that were raised and not properly addressed, there were test results that were interpreted differently by 2 different nurses, there were times I called and was not responded to in a timely fashion, and when I wanted to come in to make sure the baby was ok, I was put off and had to fight for my appointment.  Furthermore, doctors do not always have answers.  We will never know if Taylor was the only baby we lost.  We will never know why Taylor did not live.  Maybe if we do seek out help, there won't be any good answers.  Then what?  Do I have the strength, time, and energy to deal with this?

I hope and pray that we can move forward, and even (someday) find an answer we can deal with to "What next?"

Memories of the Beginning

Not long after we said goodbye to our wonderful baby, I began typing up my memories about the pregnancy.  I didn't get super far, but this is what I recalled in those painful days after we lost Taylor:

July 6, 2010: I’ve been gaining a tiny amount of weight over the past couple of weeks for no apparent reason, so in the back of my mind, it clicks that maybe I’m pregnant.  I haven’t kept track of my cycle very well, and i don’t think I’m very late, if at all. It seems unlikely, as Ryan and I haven’t gotten pregnant in almost 4 years, but I figure what the heck? I have a pregnancy test and I might as well find out, just to be sure. I’m 99% sure it will be negative, and then I’ll start eating better, lose the extra couple of pounds.  It’s been a while since I’ve taken a test, but I remember what to do. It’s first thing in the morning, so I sleepily do what I think I’m supposed to and realize after I’m done that I didn’t do what the instructions said.  Great.  Now maybe I’ve wasted a test. I set it aside and finish in the bathroom, look at the test and see two pink lines.  Two.  Two means pregnant.   I look again; look at the instructions again, at the test again, at the instructions again, carefully comparing the two.  It’s positive; I’m going to have a baby.  Despite the millions of objections I’ve had over the past few years about this—the kids are too old, I don’t want to start all over, I have a boy and a girl and that’s perfect, I hate being pregnant, we don’t have room in the house for a baby, Ryan would need a new car—I am unbelievably happy.  I hesitate, thinking to myself that for some reason, I should wait to tell people.  But I’ve had 2 perfect pregnancies in the past—despite being scared and doing and thinking stupid things during them.  Nothing was going to go wrong, and I was so happy.  I texted a friend right away to tell her the news.  Then another.  A third, and finally, a fourth friend who is one of my best friends, has been my longest friend, but also may not be happy: she’s the friend I can voice my worries to, even though I am in a thrilled state of stupor.  The kids and I go swimming so I bask in the sun while they play, happy but still completely shocked.  A little apprehensive now about telling people, thinking of how to tell my husband, our families, and the kids. I know they will be happy, but, again, my mind tells me to wait, at least to wait a while before we tell the kids.  Ryan texts and asks how I am.  I don’t want to tell him over text but I don’t know what to say, how to lie and cover it and act as if it’s a regular day.  I am glad it’s a Tuesday, because that means he only works a half day, and I won’t have to wait so long to tell him.  I say we’re fine, and I tell him I have some news.  “News? What kind of news? Is everything ok?  Is it good news?”  I prod him to be patient, that I’d rather tell him in person, but he keeps trying to guess.  He asks if it’s something I always wanted and I think he’s alluding to this, because I did used to want 3 kids, and he knows that.  So instead I ask what I always wanted.  He loses his nerve and says, I don’t know.  I teasingly say I always wanted to win the lottery, but I haven’t.  By now he’s home, and we haven’t arrived back yet.  He pesters me about when we’ll be home, what’s the news. We finally get back home and Ryan and I go into our room without the kids.  He keeps guessing what the news is and then says, “Are you pregnant?”  Stupidly, unromantically, and less than perfect, I reply, “I guess so” sort of gushingly, and hand him the test.  I don’t know if he was happy or not, initially.  It made me a little nervous because I thought he always wanted this; he was always the one who seemed to want another child, not me.  I think maybe we were both just surprised.  It had taken so long, and obviously, I could have kids, so I think we both doubted his ability to.  I figured it happening now was God’s way of letting us know the timing was right, even though it was a surprise.  That maybe we needed to get to this point in our relationship, where we were getting along pretty well again, and content, before it was a good time.  He said he was happy, just surprised, so I didn’t push.  I knew at some point, he’d be very happy.  I went to run an errand and he laughed at me when I returned with a pregnancy book.  What to Expect, Eat Well When You’re Expecting.  The irony was that lately, I HAD been eating well.  Very well.  Except now.  I started to crave junk and was completely turned off by the healthy things I had been eating regularly before.  I asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner, I had won a gift card from work for a restaurant, but he didn’t feel like going there.  We chose a healthier place that jives better with his eating needs.  By now he was bursting, hinting that we should tell the kids.  It made me very happy to know that we were both happy and I hoped this happiness would be infectious.  Still, I wanted to wait a little while-- to   break the news to our families and the kids maybe over my birthday, which was in a couple of weeks.  But I was going to be having a baby, and we were happy, and everything was going to work out just fine. 

July 7, 2010:

It was Wednesday, which is my Monday for the workweek, and usually the busiest night of my week.   Derek, my friend and “boss” asked what’s new when I arrived and I replied, “How big is your mouth?”  I was dying to tell him but didn’t want everyone to know right away, and I know he has a big mouth.  He confusedly asked, “Huh?” and I told him he had to keep a secret.  Mostly, I didn’t want Andy, the cook, and my friend, to find out before I had a chance to tell "S", one of my best friends in the whole world, but who had lost his son last year tragically to meningitis.  The baby was gone by the end of the day he had gotten sick, and it was already rapidly coming up on one year since this happened.  I was apprehensive about telling him.  He’s a wonderful friend, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to hear or be happy about, and the timing was pretty terrible.  Derek promised he’d keep a secret and so I said, “I’m pregnant” or “I’m going to have another baby,” something to that effect.  He shrieked and got as excited as I figured most of my girlfriends would.  “FINALLY!” he exclaimed, and I laughed.  He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone, but I assumed he’d tell his girlfriend Ariel, which was fine with me.    It made me happy that other people would be happy and excited about it, and, secretly, I was already thinking about baby showers, baby things, how I’d do up a nursery, the blankets I’d crochet for him or her.  When I arrived home that night, Ryan confessed that he’d told his brother Mark.  I was nervous because that meant we’d have to tell the rest of the family soon, but I was happy that he was happy and excited, and so I felt content.

July 8, 2010:

My friend Jenny is thrilled.  She just had a baby last summer, so she offered me some prenatal vitamins she had leftover.  We stop by to get them, and she secretly congratulated Ryan and me.  He’s beaming.  We excitedly talk about it behind the kid’s backs, and hang out for a bit and play with her kids, then we take off to run some other errands.  I start taking the vitamins right away, although I leave them in the trunk of my car so the kids and people at work won’t see, and I take them every day when I get to work.  I am feeling so excited about the growing baby inside; and feeling excited that other people are excited.  This is really an amazing thing!

Sunday, July 11, 2010

This weekend Ryan worked, so his parents watched the kids for us while I went to work, until he got home.  Since I wasn’t there, I can only tell the story secondhand.  Apparently, Ryan was outside with his parents, the kids were playing on their bikes, as usual, and Ryan told his parents he had some news to share.  Somehow, Trent was listening and shouted out, “Mom’s pregnant!”  Ryan told him no, it’s something else, and then proceeded to share the news with his parents.  When I got home, he said, “I told my parents.”  I scolded him jokingly, saying now we had to hurry up and tell his sister, and my mom.  And, soon, I supposed, the kids.

July 12, 2010

The kids have morning swimming lessons, so we take them, hang out and enjoy watching.  When they’re done, as they come over and start to dry off I kiddingly say, “Hey, Trent, I heard you thought I’m pregnant.”  He sheepishly laughs as I pretend to joke around with him and then I say, “Well, you were right.”  He doesn’t look as happy as I had hoped he would (I thought after begging me to have a dozen kids, he’d be thrilled), but Taryn lights up, exclaiming “You are?!? Oh, mommy I’m so happy!! If it’s a girl we should name her Vanessa, and if it’s a boy we should name him Scottie or Tommy.  I hope the baby can sleep in my room.”  I am thrilled that she is so excited; I think she will be an excellent big sister.  Later that day, Trent and Ryan sit outside at the patio table and are talking, looking a little serious.  A little while later, they are laughing and Trent seems relaxed.  I ask what they’re talking about and Ryan tells me, “man stuff.”  I decide I’ll ask Ryan more about it later.  He tells me they were talking about how it’d be different once the baby comes, and how Trent can move downstairs and make his own cool room to stay in.  I am glad Trent is warming up to the idea, although one of my objections to this has always been that Trent would probably have to move downstairs and I don’t want him to feel like he’s being kicked out of his room or being segregated from the rest of us.  Now, it really seems like Trent is warming up to all of the changes that will be going on.  Things are falling into place, and it’s so exciting.

July 13, 2010

It’s Tuesday, Ryan has to work a late half day today, and Taryn starts the first day of 3 for gymnastics camp.  I am excited that I’ll have some time to hang out with Trent; he is such a fun kid.  We get Taryn settled, and then we take off.  We run some errands, nothing exciting; he helps me pick out sandals to wear to a baby shower I’m going to over the weekend.  We go to Target and he looks at toys for a long time while I look at baby stuff (for myself, but also for my 2 cousins, one having a boy, the other, a girl).  We leave with too much time left so we stop by my mom’s house, which is just down the street from gymnastics camp.  We’re hanging around, chatting; Trent keeps eyeing me, eager for me to tell my mom.  Finally, he gives me a VERY pointed look, and then eyes my mom dramatically, nudging his head slightly.  I smile, knowing he’s eager to see her reaction, and I say, “You can tell her.”  She looks at us quizzically, and Trent says, “My mom is gonna have another baby.”  She shrieks, clapping and yelling, and I know Trent finds this very amusing, probably the best reaction he could’ve hoped for.  “Oh, I just knew you’d change your mind and have another one!”  I hold my tongue about how long it took for this to happen, assuming she thought I’d been trying NOT to have a baby all this time.  We’re thrilled that she’s so ecstatic, and when it’s time to get Taryn, she’s disappointed she missed the big reveal to grandma.  It’s a happy day.

**Knowing this baby was an amazing experience, one I am grateful for.

Happiest Birthday

Who would've thought that turning 29 would end up being so great?  It freaks me out a little to be so close to 30 ( I seriously remember my mom turning 30 like it was yesterday... what happened?!) but my 29th birthday was one of the best days.  Ever.  I had found out I was pregnant just 3 weeks before, and had had my first doctor's appointment 8 days earlier.  My first ultrasound was scheduled for my birthday and I could not wait.  I had never been to the doctor or had an ultrasound so early in my pregnancies before and I was so excited.  I also wasn't sure about my dates so I was looking forward to getting a better idea about when my due date would be.  The ultrasound tech was kinda dingy and I was not very impressed with her but I tried not to let it bother me, I was too excited about the ultrasound anyway.  Once we finally got everything under way, it was really cool.  I could see the tiny heart beating away and I was overwhelmingly happy (I don't remember ever having such a good view before).  I found out I was due about a week later than I thought, March 9; which is three days before and three days after my 2 best friend's birthdays.  The only thing that put a damper on the experience was the ultrasound tech telling us, "the chance of miscarriage at this point is about 5 percent."  I remember thinking "why on earth are you even telling me this?" and putting it out of my head.  If only I had known that it is not out of the question to fall into that scant 5 percent.... : (

The rest of the day went well, nothing too exciting, it was just fun to tell people that baby looked good and share my due date.  Sometimes I don't know if it was good or bad that people knew, but it is what it is.  I can't go back and redo it, but the first thing I thought when it happened was "I wish no one knew".  I wasn't ashamed or anything, I just didn't want to have to tell people that my baby was gone, especially not the kids or Ryan or his mom.   

Even though losing this baby was one of the worst experiences of my life (yes, I have had experiences about as bad as this, unfortunately), getting to reflect on the happy times make it hurt a little less.  Getting to know my baby on my birthday was one of the coolest things that has ever happened to me.  The feelings of happiness and the times where all my worries went away while I was pregnant were so wonderful.  I am grateful to have had this tiny little person in my life, even if it was for far less time than I'd have preferred.

Unbelievable

When I think about the ultrasound pictures I had of the baby, it's crazy to think that there was a little person in there growing and developing and now there is not.  Even the differences between the ultrasound pictures, taken just a couple weeks apart, are amazing.  On my birthday the baby was barely more than a couple of little blobs; it's heart, beating away so quickly and strong, was the size of a speck.  I never would have been able to distinguish it from some of the other specs on the screen.  It was so cool to see something that tiny and to know it was fully functioning and forming into a little person.  The ultrasound tech told us (the kids and me) that the baby was half an inch long at that point. Wow!

By the time I went into the office on August 13, the baby had stopped growing at 9 weeks and 4 days; about 5-6 days prior to my visit.  However, I could easily see how he or she had moved, the first time we saw the baby it's head was to the left, the next time, his or her body was turned the other way.  The area around the baby had more space to it, and the baby was much larger.  The heart looked more like a heart, and you can see little hands held up by the face, and little feet.  Taylor was only the size of about a quarter (close to an inch long, and weighing in at a minuscule 2 grams), but he or she was already well on the way to being an amazing little person.

It is so hard to believe that the tiny person I got to see twice was growing in me.  I really miss that little person, I'll always wish we got to bring him or her home.  I still find it all absolutely unbelievable.

Some of the Why's

It is very frustrating not having answers about Taylor.  I hate to be a whiner, but IT'S NOT FAIR.  There is so much about this experience that leads me to that conclusion, so it is hard not to say it sometimes.  Overall, the treatment of miscarriages is so ridiculous, I can NOT believe it.  This has been a really crappy learning experience! I feel so bad for people who have been through this, especially more than once.  It makes me feel terrible that so many people have gotten the treatment I have: the brush-off's, the not taking it seriously, or acting as if it is not the loss of a child, the b.s. explanations: "it's probably a genetic or chromosomal problem."  Not knowing much of anything has really been the hardest part.  Especially after looking into miscarriage as much I could and finding out that slightly over half of tested miscarried babies have a chromosomal or genetic problem.  That means that many miscarriages end just.... because.  Was something wrong with my baby?  It is not a comforting thought AT ALL to have that be the explanation.  But is it worse to think that Taylor was fine, that there really is no good reason that he or she is gone?  Another thing that really bothers me, and I hate to even go here, is that medical practitioners do not tell you (or, at least, they didn't tell me) that you can save the tissue, and, ultimately, the fetus, and at least bury it or something.  Actually passing everything was mindblowingly agonizing, everytime something came out I wondered, was that the baby?  I wish I could go back and maybe have a D & C, testing may not have been possible but at least I could have buried my baby or at least know where the baby went.  It is ridiculous that mothers who miscarry bleed their babies into a toilet and no one thinks to tell them they don't have to.

I wish more people in the medical profession had more compassion and treated their patients like people.

Wasting Time and Looking for Myself

For quite a while I have felt like I waste a lot of time doing nothing important.  I haven't finished school (still) which is really upsetting.  Sometimes I feel like I should just plain give up and other times I know I can finish and don't have to explain myself to anyone about why it has taken so long.  I have been stuck at my job, which I'd prefer not to be, but don't know where to look and I keep using that as an excuse.  I miss being artistic but I don't devote the time to do anything artistic and creative.  I've wanted to learn German for a long, long time and yet I don't.  I am tired of not doing anything useful anymore.  I really need to find some motivation to do the things I keep putting off and I am not sure where to start.

On the plus side, I feel like writing on this blog (despite a lack of interest from others) is a really good way to do one thing that I had been wanting to do for a long time: speak my mind.  I have gotten a lot out and have shared more than I dreamed I would have had the courage to.  Holding so much in and being lonely for so long really took a toll on me.  It's such a relief to have a place where I can get some thoughts out and have a place to sort all of the craziness in my head. 

Being a mom is the best thing that ever happened to me.  I know the circumstances were not always ideal, but I did the best I could from the very beginning and I am lucky that becoming a mother made me a better person.  I'm a far cry from perfect but I do my best to be a great mom.  Unfortunately, being a parent is not always wonderful.  Worrying about my children, and now losing one, is a very difficult thing to deal with.  A piece of me really wants a new baby again and an equally large piece of me would be horrified if I ended up pregnant.  I don't know what to do anymore.  I am scared that because it took almost 4 years to get pregnant again, I won't.  I am scared because if I did get pregnant again I'd wonder if something was wrong with us and I'd be afraid of losing another baby.  I know no one can help me with these issues, but I wish someone had all the answers.  I have never felt more all over the place in my life.  I feel so lost lately, I don't know how to get myself back. 

How Time Flies

Trent and Taryn are cute.  You'd think after almost 11 and almost 8 years, I'd be used to them, but sometimes I'm still amazed they're still mine.  I like to just look at their faces; I could do that forever.  Taryn is so smart and funny, she cracks me up.  Yesterday she was wearing a stocking cap and a black t-shirt with a glow in the dark skeleton (Trent's) and she looked SO CUTE (even though Ryan said she looked like a robber ha ha).  Trenty's going to be getting glasses.  My little man sure looks cute in them, but he's getting SO big!  I can't believe how much they've grown and how old they're getting!! : (  It makes me long for a time when I was closer to their ages (it sure doesn't seem THAT long ago) and my worries weren't so serious.  I feel like I wasn't ready to be a grown up, I don't know what happened!  All I know is how grateful I am to have my kids and my family, it's the best part about being an adult.  Those little kids sure are a blessing; I love them SO MUCH!

Short & Sweet

Taylor,

I didn't know I wanted you until you were on your way.  It was the happiest one month and one week in my life.  Being pregnant with you was a brand new experience; I felt so amazing, physically and mentally.  Thank you for giving me a wonderful experience and showing me that what I think I want and need is not always right.  I'll love you so much forever.

Worst Day

Just when I think that maybe I am too ok, I get a reality check!

I thought that pregnant ladies and babies were tolerable, but they just aren't yet.  I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings, I just can NOT handle it right now.  I had a table this morning, 4 people.  I didn't see them until they were sitting down and everything was going fine.  Then I noticed the chick's shirt said "expecting."  Great.  Darling.  As if your adorable bump wasn't enough of an advertisement.  Sure enough, she gets up to go to the bathroom, and I notice the adorable bump.  Fine.  Pregnant lady, I can deal.  Except, I couldn't.  It was totally upsetting.  All I could think was, this chick is sitting here slamming coffee and she's fine (I can't help but wonder if my too much coffee habit, which I cut WAY back on, hurt my baby). 

THEN I get a table of 3 grown ups and a baby in a baby carrier.  Awesome. 

THEN I get a table of 4 people (3 girls, young, with an older man).  The man apologizes over one of the girl's hesitation about what drink to order, "Sorry, they're pregnant."  Don't wanna know.  Seriously.  Then they all go out to smoke (I don't know which he was referring to by "they," all of them? 2 of them? Dunno, just know they all went out for a cigarette).  I hate to be judgemental about that, as I do have NO room to talk, but seriously, I quit about a year back and wouldn't have thought about touching one while pregnant with Taylor.  Sometimes I even wonder if part of the reason I got pregnant was because I finally had kicked the habit (or, alternately, if part of the reason I didn't get pregnant for so long was because Ryan and I both smoked).  Again, freaking hurtful. 

I couldn't handle it.  A few smart-alecky customers later (including them, I hope they all end up waiting tables and have customers as ridiculous as they were, but, I digress...) and a couple of usually funny but not-funny -this-time comments had me in tears.  I was able to pull myself together fairly quickly.

But I really wanted to sit in the bathroom and cry for the rest of the afternoon. 

Another Letter (beware, this one will probably get a little mean)

To the grovelly voiced receptionist at the dr's office:

Would it really have killed you to pry yourself away from your People magazine for 5 extra seconds to pay enough attention to my sheet and note that I had just found out I miscarried?  Isn't it your job to at least take note and make sure you cancel my next check up?  If it had been just the isolated incident of you not being a little more sympathetic when I left the office that day, maybe I wouldn't be so angry.  But guess what?  It wouldn't have been that hard to actually look at the damn sheet and say, "oh, I'm sorry," or something, over a rude, abrasive, "K, you're done!"  Yeah? No shit?  I wanted to scream at you, "Yeah I guess I am fucking done you stupid bitch my baby is dead!"  But I was so shocked that you didn't even seem to notice what had happened and that my mom was with me bawling her eyes out that I just left, I couldn't stand being in there for another second, anyway. 

I KNEW, I just KNEW it was going to happen, but I honestly was shocked and heartbroken 10 days later when your STUPID ass called me, reminding me of my appointment at 10:30 a.m. the next day.  When I called you back to remind you that I had miscarried (was it really that unreasonable for me to assume that if I CAME IN TO THE OFFICE to find out that the baby died, you guys would note that and cancel any future appointments I might have scheduled?  I mean, seriously?), I wanted to jump through the phone and strangle you.  You apologized for the call and I could hear in your voice that you knew it was your f up, but still.  I hate you. 

A Letter To..........

The ultrasound tech (the second one, not the first dingy one who didn't know what she was doing).

Dear ultrasound tech (I think your name is Cheryl),
Thank you for seeing me on short, squeeze-in notice on Friday the 13th of August 2010.  I know the office is disorganized and you guys were very busy that day.  I know it was a squeeze to get that appointment, and I am really glad I was able to get in.  Thank you for knowing how to do your job right and for being one of the only people in that office who not only seemed to be organized enough to do your job correctly, but also actually having some compassion and for treating me like a person and not just a number on a chart.  Thank you for telling me all about my baby, how big he or she was, where his or her head and heart was, and for having tears in your eyes when you told me it was not alive anymore.  Thank you for telling me that if I was your sister, you'd tell me that the imaging was very good and that it was not necessary to do another more invasive ultrasound.  Thank you for giving my mom some tissues (I was too shocked to cry, thank you for seeming to understand that, too).  Thank you for noticing that my bladder was full and asking if I needed to use the restroom.  Thank you for taking us right to a private room to wait for the doctor so we wouldn't have to sit in the hall while my mom fell apart.  Thank you for bringing us some water.  Thank you for being the only person there who would make me consider ever setting foot in that building again.

My Day

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to treat myself to a day where I could relax, have fun, and do whatever I felt like.  Ryan had left that day for Canada (for a work trip), and since he'd be gone all week, I was going to work Tuesday through Friday mornings so that I could be home with the kids every night.  I figured since I only had one day that week to myself while the kids were at school, I should forget about errands and housework and bills and chores, and do something fun for myself.  This day also happened to be the 13th, one month since I had found out about Taylor.  I didn't do it on purpose, but it ended up being a theraputic day when I really needed one.  After I dropped the kids off at school, I came back home, had breakfast, and got ready for the day.  I went walking with Andrea (which we haven't been able to do as regularly as we used to), and then I went to the mall.  I knew I was going to treat myself to a massage (love the Chinese backrub place)!  I had about half an hour to kill so I decided to walk a couple of laps around the mall.  We walk there in the winter, so it was fun to see some of the regular people walking who I have missed seeing all spring and summer.  Once the backrub place opened, I jumped, I had been eagerly waiting for them to open!  Initially I decided on a half hour massage, knowing that when they offered another 15 minutes for a foot and leg rub, I'd more than likely say yes.  I've been so tense lately (even more than usual) and this 45 minutes undid a lot of stress and anxiety.  Then, I went next store to the paint your own pottery studio.  I browsed around for a long time before I picked out a spoon rest for myself, a mug to make for my mom's birthday, and a skull for a halloween decoration.  I was feeling hesistant and uncreative but once I got started, it was relaxing.  I haven't had such a good time in a long time.  I started with my spoon rest, which I was trying to make kind of quirky and Mary Engelbreiht-esque.  It didn't exactly turn out that way, but I think it's kind of cute.  

Next, I did the mug for my mom.  It's not her birthday yet, so I'm not going to describe it or put up a picture.  I didn't end up having enough time for the skull, maybe I can go back sometime soon.  Honestly, I had no idea how relaxing and fun it would be to just sit and paint for a couple hours.  They had 50s on 5 on the radio, and it was fun to listen to some quality music while the only worry I had was to have fun for a while.  Paint (clearly) isn't my strongest creative medium, but having the opportunity to free my mind from the hectic everyday tasks (and all the sadness, stress, and anxiety) was one of the best things I could have done that day.  After I was done painting, I treated myself to some lunch.  Sometimes eating out alone can be awkward, but I was in such a good mood, it felt nice to just continue relaxing and doing whatever I felt like. 

While it was a simple day, it was also one of the best days I've ever had.  I've decided to do it more often, hopefully about once a month.  It may not always be possible to do it on the 13th, but I think I am going to try to do it then as much as possible.  I hope I have more great days like this to write about soon!

To Smile

Lately there are times when I feel like everything is ok.  Like my life has gone back to normal and somehow I'm just fine.  I know I'm not, it just doesn't always surface.  The constant distractions: reading, wasting time on the computer or in front of the tv, doing anything to keep my mind busy with bullshit just goes to show that I need to keep my mind occupied so that I don't break down.  When I see a pregnant woman, it is almost impossible not to think, "how come SHE gets to be pregnant?"  It still does not seem fair.  It still doesn't even seem real most of the time!  Ever since we had to say good-bye to Taylor, it seems like babies really, really like me.  The day after I found out, a tiny boy tottled up to me outside a friend's apartment and tried, in his baby way, to talk to me.  Sometimes this is comforting, other times it hurts more than a knife to the heart would.  There are so many things that just cause little pangs of hurt.  Fridays. Knowing another week has passed since I found out, thinking to myself, 1 or 2 or now 6 weeks ago, I was so excited to get to that appointment.  I just KNEW everything was going to be fine (the chances were only 5% that they would not be fine, I constantly reminded myself of that).  I was eager to see my baby's heart beating away and to be told to rest so the bleeding would subside.  Nothing at all could have prepared me for the actuality of what happened at that visit.  Tuesdays, too, are hard, knowing that I should be 11, 12 (in the clear), and now 16 weeks pregnant.  If I were that far along now, would I be showing yet?  Would I be starting to feel the little flutters of movement?  Some people may think that it is unnecessary to think of these things, like I am torturing myself needlessly, but these thoughts cannot be kept at bay.  I think it is natural to wonder, especially when it is something that is so hard to accept and deal with.  But it's not always bad.  I thank God that I at least got to find out for sure before I actually passed the baby.  I know many people feel like the D&C is an awful experience, and I don't know which is worse for sure, but I do know that passing the baby "naturally" is a heartbreaking, gutwrenching experience.  If I had not had that appointment, I would have been so shocked and horrified when it was time that I don't know if I could have handled it.  I got to get a couple of ultrasound pictures of the baby, which are amazing mementos to have.  I think about how being pregnant with Taylor was one of the happiest times in my life.  So many of the worries I usually plague myself with just went away when I was pregnant.  There are so many things I can do to remember Taylor by, and that makes me happy, too.  Plans for a tattoo to honor all of my children, having Taylor's name written on a blade of grass, and written in the sand on a beach in Australia.  It hasn't been easy lately, but sometimes, I am able to smile.

And it feels really great when I do.

My Thoughts Vs. Reality

Ever since I was very young, I wanted to have 3 children.  Of course, my "plans" [how silly it was to try to map out my life at the tender age of 17, but, anyway.... I've learned a lot since then : )] ended up being very different from God's plan for me.  MY plan consisted of a successful career, and then 3 children all 3 years apart- modeled after my cousins, who, despite threatening to put each other up for "adoction" and pushing each other into fountains at the mall, seemed like a just right family- but that wasn't what was in the cards for me. 

At 17, during my last semester of high school, I got pregnant with my son.  I really was terrified; I knew my mom would be upset.  Also, my boyfriend and I had an extremely unhealthy relationship.  I stupidly thought about somehow trying to hide the pregnancy from my mom but of course that was not possible.  When the dad and I broke up about midway through my pregnancy, he called my mom and told her that I couldn't break up with him because I was pregnant with his kid.  This was not the best way to break it to her, but at least then she finally knew. It was a weight off my chest.  Luckily, I was able to start college in the fall at 7 1/2 months pregnant.  It was a little awkward, but I didn't realize how lucky I was at the time to be able to be starting school while pregnant with my first baby.  I always thought it was so weird when people would praise me and ask how I did it.  I just looked at it as doing what I had to do, and it really didn't seem special at the time.  I don't know if I could do now what I did then again.  I was lucky to have so much support! When Trent came in November of 1999, it was the best and craziest day ever.  I didn't think he was ever coming!  When he finally did it was the most amazing thing.  He was big and beautiful and perfect, and it was SO strange (but awesome!) to know that I was someone's mom- I had a son! Crazy : ) Somehow, I was able to go back to school 4 days after he was born.  Life went well, I did decently in school, I was learning to be a mom, and I was working and had a ton of help and support from my mom. 

When Trent was just over 2, I met Erik.  It was a chance meeting: we were both someplace we normally wouldn't be, and when I handed him my phone number he said thanks and grabbed it without missing a beat.  It felt like some kind of crazy destiny.  Unfortunately, we didn't really get along well.  It felt like we had to hang out and we had this crazy connection, but we weren't very nice to each other.  At 6 years older than me, he was much less mature than I thought he should be.  Becoming a dad was not something he was ready for.  This did not end up being something that was up to us, though.  6 weeks after we started dating, I became pregnant with Taryn.  I was due in December and I was horrified that she'd be born during finals, which meant I would have to delay graduating until the next year.  Fortunately, she cooperated with my schedule.  On Tuesday, December 17 (the day of my last final, which was in the early morning), she decided to join us.  She waited for me to finish, but then she was READY! My labor lasted about 5 hours from my first contraction to birth.  We got to the hospital at 6:30 and she arrived 17 minutes later.  She was gorgeous and wonderful and even though I was only 21 and the single mom to 2 babies,  my life was great.  I graduated from college 5 months later and was enjoying my family.  Trent loved her so much and things were going really well.

When Trent started pre-school just before he turned 5, he began asking about having a dad (his dad stayed in the picture- kind of- for about 11 months, but had long been absent by now).  His school did a lot of focus on father involvment (which was great except for Trent- who didn't have a father or even a good male role model).  I always said I was never daddy shopping, but having children made dating a completely different game.  I did not want to expose my kids to a series of random losers, and many guys my age were not ready to have kids- especially not one's who weren't theirs.  When Trent was 5 and a half, and Taryn was 2 and a half, I met Ryan.  We were close in age and he had just gotten out of a long, bad relationship.  Within just a few months we were engaged.  He was sweet and fun and loving, and he made me feel calm and happy.  He loved the kids and they loved him very much, too.  We got married in October of 2006 which was only 15 months after we met.  It was a whirlwind, and things were not always perfect.  But we both have learned a lot about each other, about parenting, and about how to have a great home and family.  Now that we've come so far, I'm very happy with the decisions we've made that brought us to this point.

I always said after having the kids that if I wasn't pregnant again by the time Taryn was 5, then I wanted to be done.  I was happy with a beautiful little boy and a beautiful little girl.  I figured Ryan would want children of his own, but his thoughts about biology do not really match up with other people's ideas of the difference between bio children and non bio children.  He was a daddy to these kids, and he was happy with that.  I know we kind of both wanted another, but I always resisted and made excuses about why I didn't want more children.  Being pregnant was usually awful for me, I got lots of morning sickness (both times all the way through the second trimester), gained a lot of weight, and basically, I just hated it.  I guess I just made a bad pregnant lady with Trent and Taryn.  After almost 4 years of not ending up pregnant, I think Ryan and I both had doubts about whether it could happen for us or not.  So you can imagine my surprise when I started to gain a little weight and decided to take a pregnancy test, just in case (I did not want to be drinking or doing anything else that may jeopardize the baby, if there was one), and it was positive.  All of my doubts went out the window!  All of the objections I had fell by the wayside- even though I tried to tell myself that they were still things to consider and be concerned about.  Lots would change, but Ryan and I both were ready for it.  Just like that.  He'd need a new car, we'd need a room for the baby and we'd need to renovate a room downstairs for Trent to move into.  It didn't matter. At all.  Once we told the kids, Trent was excited to be getting his own space and more privacy, so the worry of kicking him out of his room and isolating him wasn't even relevant.  I began to wonder what it would be like to have a baby around.  I thought about getting big, sharing the news, buying new baby things.  I wanted to make a blanket and other things, and right from the start I was eager to know if the baby was a boy or a girl.  I dreamed about how the nursery would look, about having a baby shower- we were all so excited!  Now that I know the happiness of anticipating a new family member, I am sort of eager to try again.  Not that a new baby would replace Taylor.  AT ALL!

I guess we'll have to wait and see what the plan for me turns out to be.  Lord knows what I think is going to happen doesn't usually turn out to be reality!