Perspective

I'm not a hugger. I'm not touchy-feely. Physical contact takes work for me, it doesn't come naturally. I even feel like I have a limit to how much physical touch I can take.

Well, last night at dinner, Moose was making it his personal goal to see if he could help me reach that limit. He could not stop touching, hugging, kissing me. He would rub my arm, climb in my lap, put an arm on my shoulder, place his head on my lap, and hold my hand. I love that he is so affectionate. I wish I was that way, but last night for some reason, I was about at my limit. I wasn't mad or upset, but I was feeling a little stifled. We were laughing and making a joke about it and he thought it was hilarious.

Then today it hit me, I need to cherish those moments because I am blessed enough to have them.

I would have been due with baby #2 this month if I hadn't miscarried back in March. That's a baby that I'll never touch, hug or kiss. I will never be able to rub his or her arm, hold them on my lap or hold their little hand. I will never be able to "reach my limit" on physical touch with that baby. You don't comprehend how attached you can get to someone that you never met. It's the loss of what could have been.

It's hard to think about that but it hits me every now and then and realize how luck I am to have a happy, healthy, beautiful boy. Not everyone gets that opportunity. My heart breaks for friends of ours who haven't been able to have kids and who are struggling through the ridiculous Florida DCF trying to adpot.

I realize that even if we don't have another child (yes, we are going to try again, but it's ultimately up to God), we are beyond blessed with what we have. I will relish every squeeze, every eskimo kiss, every butterfly kiss, and every smack to my (in his words) "beautiful spankable bottom" (thank his dad for that).

October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day. In October 1988, President Ronald Reagan Proclaimed October as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. “When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses her or his partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them.”

Here are events to get involved with and here are ways to show your support.

Most Days I'm OK

Most days I am ok, lots of days I'm great, but some days my miscarriage still gets to me. I guess that's normal, it's only been a few months, but some people seem to move on so easily. Or at least on the surface they do, I guess I don't know their heart.

Anyway, some days it doesn't even cross my mind, and some days I think, I'd be almost 7 months now which means we would have definitely known what we were having. Some days, I wonder what it would be like.

Those days are fewer and farther between than the beginning, but on those days I beat myself up a little more. Was it the theraflu that I took when I was 4 weeks along because I felt like I was dying from the flu? Did I work out too much? Was I too unsure about it? Was it because I wasn't bonding with the baby or was I not bonding because God wouldn't let me?

I have gotten to where I really love babies, but on those few days, I don't want to talk about babies or baby things. I don't want to hear people complaining about their babies (even though on a normal day it's perfectly fine, moms need to vent).

I don't like having to answer the question "So, are you going to have any more?" by someone who doesn't know. I then feel some absurd need to explain to them how we had tried but I miscarried and now I need a little time. They don't need to know that and I'm sure it makes them feel bad.

Mostly, on those days, I feel bad for feeling bad. I get this little voice in the back of my head that says "Why are you even sad, there was no baby? No baby even developed." Now, I know that regardless of whether there was a baby or not, I was almost 10 weeks at the time and my body was pregnant, but on those days, Satan, gets a foothold and tries to pull me down.

I know that some of these thoughts are still hormonal changes, and to help with that I am doing some natural remedies (acupuncture and Chinese herbs) that I'll blog about later. I know that these are normal thoughts (or at least I think they are) and yet, that doesn't make me feel better at the time.

I'm feeling this way a little tonight, but it will pass. Like I have said before, this blog is more for my therapy, than it is for anything else.

Thanks for sticking around even when I'm gloomy! :)

to the moon and back,

Why do we do it?

Why do we do it?

Why do we try to have babies? There are so many risks, so much possible pain, so much possible devastation.

But we still try...

Some of us succeed on the first try (or with out even trying), others spend years and thousands of dollars trying, others never succeed and either choose to adopt or make peace with not having children.

But we still try...

We try even though it may end in miscarriage, we try even though it may end in still birth, we try even if it means that our child will need to be cared for by us forever, we try even if it may take our own lives.

But we still try...

We try even if the finances aren't right, we try even if the house isn't big enough, we try even if we don't have help from our families, we try even if it means losing friendships.

But we still try...

It can be sad, it can be scary, it can be uncomfortable, it can totally change our bodies (hair, skin, shape, etc), it can throw our hormones completely our of whack, it can make us sick for 9 months straight.

But we still try...

Why?

Because it's worth it.

It's worth it for a chance at holding a miracle. It's worth it for a chance at feeling their movements before anyone else knows what's going on. It's worth it for a chance to hear their first tiny little cries. It's worth it for a chance to count their little fingers and toes. It's worth it for a chance to watch them hit every milestone and to see the world brand new through their eyes. It's worth it for a chance to feel unconditional love and to be loved unconditionally. It's worth it for a chance to fulfill one of God's purposes for us as women. It's worth it for a chance to hear them say "I love you" for the first time. It's worth it for a chance to feel the best hugs ever.

Why do we do it, when there seems like there are so many reasons not to? We do it for a chance at something amazing.

to the moon and back,

My miscarriage...

If you follow my blog because of my wit and satire... this post is not for you, as if you couldn't tell by the title. I just wanted to give fair warning that this will be sad, at least if you have a heart it will.

Before I get too far into it, I would at least like to give a few reasons for broadcasting this to the the 5's of people who read this blog. Well, first off, I have said before that I use this blog as a form of therapy for myself. Secondly, I found out the hard way that that keeping stuff locked up is no way to get over it. Finally, this is a subject that not a lot of people want to talk about, so if I can help someone else who can't talk about it feel a little less alone, then it's worth it.

It is a long one...

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On January 25th, before I was even late, I took a pregnancy test. We had been trying so I knew I was within a day or so. Drumroll... A plus sign... What? Pregnant? I have to say I was shocked. We really had only been trying for a month. Man, that was quick, I thought I'd have a few months at least. A flood of emotions overwhelmed me and I walked out to show Jon, he got the biggest smile on his face and I broke down and started crying... Not because I was sad, just emotionally overwhelmed.

The next week we went on a trip to TN to visit friends. We had a great time (other than I was recovering from the flu). However, I did have this nagging uneasy feeling. I told Jon and my friend, Sarah, about it. I really couldn't put a finger on it though. It sorta felt like that feeling when your boss says "We need to talk" or when you get called to the principal's office. I was just feeling off, but I sort of contributed that to the changing hormones.

Over the next few weeks, I still had the feeling but it kept lessening. However, now I was just nervous in general, even more so than with my first pregnancy. Again, I just blamed it on hormones well that and the fact that in my close circle of friends, 4 of them had issues following their 1st pregnancy or issues with their 2nd. Including blood clots, Gastroschisis, miscarriage, and Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia.

I had my first appointment with the midwife and everything seemed to be going well. I felt good, other than the normal pregnancy symptoms; being nauseous, dry mouth, sore boobs, minor headaches and mood swings. She checked me and everything seemed to be right where it needed to be. She scheduled me for my bloodwork and my first sonogram.

I kept up with my eating healthy (as much as the cravings and nausea would allow), I did pre-natal yoga, I took my pre-natal vitamins, I walked, I didn't have caffeine, I didn't drink, I stayed away from artificial sweetners... all of the stuff you are supposed to do.

The day of my sonogram came (which happened to be the day before I had to fly to NY for a company trip). Jon met me at the doctor's office and we waited to be called back. We made small talk with the woman doing our sonogram (she was the same one who did them for us when we had Moose). I laid on the table, adjusted my pants and she applied whatever that gooey stuff is to my stomach. She placed the wand on my stomach and as soon as she did, I knew that there was something wrong.

With Moose, we had a sonogram at 5wks 6dys and we saw him. Even though he was tiny, we saw him. I was 9wks 3dys, We should be seeing something. I kept thinking, "Maybe this is just a really wide view, maybe she has to zoom in." Suddenly, I kept thinking, "that has to be it, right? Didn't they have to do that in the beginning with Moose?"

She said, "I'm going to measure the sac now," *mouse click* *mouse click*. "but I'm sorry to tell you that there is no baby there and I honestly can't say that there ever has been. I'm so sorry. I'm just so sorry" And just like that, I wasn't pregnant anymore... Only I was, or at least my body still thought so.

Instant tears, Jon reached for my hand, stood up and held me. Endless tears...

9 & 1/2 weeks... We had known since weeks, we had already started planning, I bought diapers to start stocking up, we had talked about names... How is it that there is no baby? What had I done wrong?? Then instantly I thought, "Oh God, we have to tell everyone that there is no baby... Why didn't we wait to tell until after 12 weeks?" 

Even worse... how was I going to tell Moose that he was no longer going to have a baby brother or sister?

She said that she had to call the doctor to come talk to me about my options. They walked me into another room and the doctor came in. He said that it's called "blighted ovum" (never heard of it? me either read about it here and here) Bottom line is that there was no baby, no fetus and no fetal pole. Apparently, it's very common, I don't know about you, but that's not very comforting. Option one: I could let my body take care of it on it's own or option two: I could have a D&C. A miscarriage is less controlled, could result in hemmorhaging, infection and you never know when it's going to happen. A D&C is more controlled, quick, sterile and fewer chances of complications.

Hmmm... decisions, decisions... And the doctor is standing there looking at me. I'm crying and Jon's fighting back tears. The doctor says that we don't have to make a decision now, unless we want to, but to me the D&C seemed like the right choice (if you feel differently, that's fine, please do judge or question my decision, it was not one that was easily made). Within a matter of minutes the procedure was scheduled for the next Thursday (March14th) and I had to do blood work for a type & screen on Wednesday because I am RH negative.

In one short hour, I had gone from expectant mother, to a woman who was scheduled to remove the "products of conception".

When I picked up Moose from my moms, I told him about it, I had to, he kept asking why mommy was crying and was so sad. So I told him that the baby in mommy's belly went away. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said "But mommy, I want my baby brother or baby sister." Just the week before he was talking about all of the things he could teach him/her like how to play, and not potty in their diaper and how to sleep and not cry, and how he could make them laugh by making faces at them because that always makes babies laugh. He started crying and said "Mommy, I am so sorry that the baby in your belly went away."

Don't forget, I still had to go home and pack for my trip. The next 4 days I would be away from my family and would have no time to really process because I would be working a tradeshow for 9 hours and day and I was rooming with a co-worker so I wouldn't have time to myself.

In the times I did get to think about it, my mind immediately started blaming it on something I had done:
   Did I not want it enough?
   Should I not have taken the Tami-flu?
   Did I work out too much?
   Did I not start taking my pre-natals early enough?
   Is the D&C the right choice?
   Could I have done something differently?
   Is it ridiculous that I am mourning a baby that was never there?
   Why do I feel embarrassed telling people that there never was a baby?

Sometimes I hate how a mind works... Sometimes no one is to blame. Sometimes things just happen. God knows that there was a reason for this, and whether I understand it or not, I except it and honestly, I'm with Jon in thinking that I am glad it happened sooner rather than later.

Wednesday came and I had my blood work. I hate needles and Moose knows that, he said "I'll hold your hand so you don't get nervous mommy. I don't want my mommy to be nervous." And when I started crying because there was a possible problem with insurance, while squeezing my neck, he said "Oh, it's ok mommy, I am here for you, I'll always be here for you. Don't cry, it's ok".

Thursday, day of surgery... Up at 5:20am to be there by 6:00am, surgery at 7:30am, no longer pregnant by 7:45am. They brought me back for pre-op and got me ready. Then Jon came back to sit with me. Lots of tears and pulling it together and tears and pulling it together. 

Then, the inconsiderate nurses (not mine, mine were really great) in the hall right next to my bay start talking about how on Tuesday a woman with no known allergies went into anaphylactic shock after getting the versed shot. She coded and then needed CPR and almost didn't make it. Really?? I've never had surgery in my life and this is the convo you have outside my room and the rooms of others having procedures today? Jon stepped out and politely asked them to be a little more sympathetic to the patients about to get the same shot.

After that, they gave me the versed, and hauled me off to the OR. I really don't remember anything after that except sliding myself to the other bed. The next thing I remember was waking up, trying to figure out if I was done or what was going on. They brought Jon back and the relief in his eyes was beautiful.

And that was it... we were done and discharged.

I know that I'm not the only woman who has had this problem nor am I the only one who has miscarried but that brings little consolation. Everyone mourns differently, everyone needs their own outlet, everyone needs support, but more importantly everyone needs to move on. I'm not saying that they need to forget, I'm saying that they need to find a way to look back with love and not with anger or hatred or emptiness.

It wasn't my fault... It wasn't your fault... God knew better that us that the timing wasn't right, no matter how hard that is to see right now.

I'm so thankful that I have an amazingly supportive husband, son, family and friends. Though this process is and will continue to be difficult, they have made it so much easier on me.

I love you all...

...to the moon and back,

www.hypersmash.com

New Found Energy

This is how I spent New Years day, with 52 other yogi's

I'll start this by saying that I have never officially done yoga in my life.

With that being said, my friend (who happens to be my neighbor) told me about this 21 day yoga challenge. The premise is simple, 21 days straight of yoga for only $21. You can go to any class that you want as long as you do one class a day. You can miss one class, but if you do, you have to double up the day before or the day after. Seems easy enough, I mean yoga just looks like a bunch of stretching and meditation, right??

Ok, I was a tad naive to say the least. While yoga is a lot of stretching, self reflection and meditation, it is so much more than that. For one thing, the hot classes are about 90 to 95 degrees (at least at this studio) and warm classes are between 85 and 90. Oh, did I mention the 65% humidity? Yea, about 5 minutes into the class and I look like I have taken a shower with my clothes on. Another thing, some of the classes are very fast paced, to the point of cardio. What's worse is I don't know if it's harder to do the fast paced classes or the ones where you have to hold the stretches and poses for ridiculous amounts of time. It's crazy.

But you know what's crazier? I like it! Some may say that makes me a masochist, to them I say I'm just trying to get into shape and this challenge has been a good kick start.

Let's face it, I'm not getting any younger, I mean, I'll be 25 this year, *couch* *cough* (amazing that I have been in a relationship with my husband for 17 years, yet I'm only 25... forever 25...) and I need to lean out this fatty tissue and to take care of my heart. Not to mention, we want to have another baby soon and I my goal is to stay active while I am pregnant. I have better odds if I start out active.

On a side note, I have had amazing amounts of energy lately. Saturday, after morning yoga, the hubby and I took Moose on a 12 mile (decent paced) bike ride on the beach and Sunday (when I could have been napping) I spent 4 hours in the kitchen prepping for the week and cleaning. Today I came home from work and (finally) went through our Christmas decor and paired it down and reorganized and tonight after yoga I jogged/walked 2 miles on a local bridge and then cam home and cleaned up the kitchen. It's a great side effect!

Next month, I'm going to take the challenge again, at a different studio. Maybe I am crazy... but don't knock it until you try it!

to the moon and back,

Of love and loss and grieving....

Ok, I stole that title from my bosses blog, but it's fitting.

I could start this blog off with "Wow, it's, like totally, been a really long time since I last blogged. I've been sooo super busy with my crazy important life but I totally promise to be better about posting!" (please feel free to read that in your best Valley Girl voice circa 1983), but I won't. Truth is, life happens and while I love writing, and emptying my head of random thoughts (yes, thoughts, plural, I do manage to have more than one, however, trains of thought quickly derail), I also have family, friends, 2.5 jobs, running and the like that fill my days.

I have had a blog brewing in my little brain about the "Are You Mom Enough" article, but my luke warm opinions about most things coupled with the fact that I haven't actually read past the title of the article, have hindered me from diving into that topic further. I am fairly certain, though, that I am not mom enough when you take into account that my almost 3 year old watches TV, has had his vaccinations as well as tylenol & motrin, was only breastfed (and not exclusively, there was formula in the mix) until 14 months, has had (on occasion) a PB&J for breakfast and navigates my iPhone better than me. But that's beside the point, on to the task at hand.

Tonight, I write of love, loss and grieving...

Love... The love of a gracious God, the love of a remarkable mother, the love of humbled friends. First, there is the love of gracious God who gives peace to a family who needs all of the comfort they can get. He has laid out the plans for them and gives them strength though the pain. Then there is the love of a mother, a love that has no rivals. I don't think you can truly understand it until you become one. I'm not taking away from the love a father has for his child, but I am saying that it is a bit different when you have carried, nurtured and felt the child moving from inside you. We give them our bodies for 9 months and in turn they take a piece of our heart with them on the way out. Finally, the love of humbled friends, who no matter how much they do for their friends, no matter how much they give, they are humbled to have the friend who is in need trying to comfort them through her loss.

Loss... One of my dearest friends and her family is having to go through what no one should ever have to experience, the loss of a child. Just a few days ago, after giving birth, she lost her son (you can read about it here). Throughout the pregnancy and birth, she gave her worries to God and above all asked for His will to be done. God's will was done, and part of His plan for Emmett was unveiled as he was able to be an organ donor and has the opportunity to help save the lives of two babies. 

Grieving... I can never claim to know what she is feeling, but I know that since Thursday night, I have been wandering around in a fog with an emptiness in my chest. My heart aches for them and I hate that we (her friends) can't be closer to help her through this and to keep her mind occupied. It's a very helpless feeling to have so much distance between us and to not be able to be with her.

It's amazing how someone so little can fill your heart so much and how you can be filled with so much love so someone that you never got to meet, hold, talk to or cuddle with.

My prayers continue to go out to the Jackson family, I hope you will do the same.

to the moon and back,

"Be Still and Know I am God"

While motherhood has been the most rewarding, stressful, beautiful, disgusting, hilarious, and bittersweet, it has also left me wondering, "How do I fit it all in?"

How do I fit in time for Moose?
How do I fit in time for hubby?
How do I fit in time to cook, clean and coupon (my new obsession)?
How do I fit in time to work?
How do I fit in time with the extended family?
How do I fit in time to exercise?
How do I fit in time for friends?
How do I fit in "me" time?
And most importantly...
How do I fit in time for God?

What? Scheduling time for God? You mean Sunday morning isn't enough? Oh, yea, Sunday morning... I remember doing something called "Church" on Sunday... prior to having Moose. Where can I find the time to be still and know that He is God?

Since I had Moose, on Sunday's you can find me in the nursery at church. I can't remember the last time I sat through a full service. Moose has decided that if I'm not in the nursery with him, then he must cry like he is being tortured, which leads to other kids crying and stressed out nursery workers and then no one is having fun. So to save the sanity of the poor parent who has volunteered their time, I either sit in the nursery with him, or I take him in the service and leave halfway through because he is wiggling.

Because of this, I have felt spiritually starved. Craving to get lost in His word, but never making it a priority. Tonight, I had the utmost pleasure of meeting with some other moms of little ones (without the little ones) who were also in need of a bible study. I have to say, it was so needed and I am so looking forward to more of these. I left study feeling blessed, comforted, reassured, supported and closer to these women than ever.

I'll leave you with a passage of scripture that was in our study tonight and ask you this, are you Martha or Mary?

³⁸ As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. ³⁹ She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. ⁴⁰ But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
   ⁴¹ “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, ⁴² but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

To the Moon and Back,