I am really struggling (still) with my anxiety lately, and also quite obviously with some lingering depression as well. Why is it so much harder to admit to the depression? I've struggled with both over the last 4 years or so, but most acutely since everything started with our miscarriages in 2010. It's like I just can't shake the disillusionment about life and my loss of innocence. I'm stuck in this bitter place where I'm angry about what happened to me, angry about what was taken away (the inability to enjoy pregnancy and believe my baby will live), and angry that most women never have to know what this feels like (not that I'd really want them to). And I hate being angry and bitter and sad, so then I make myself feel guilty for struggling so much with these issues. It's a fun cycle.
Today I had an appointment with my OB, which I scheduled late last week even though I already had a routine appointment scheduled for August 6th. I found I just couldn't wait another 2 weeks with all of my fears, questions and concerns floating around in my head. I looked forward to this appointment because usually this Dr. is amazing and SO good at reassuring me that all is well. And this appointment started out that way. Actually, we started by me voicing my concerns about not really feeling the baby move much yet, if at all, and he just went ahead and got me ready for an ultrasound (I didn't expect this, as we'd just had one a week and a half ago, but I wasn't about to turn down the chance to see my little man). Now there is one thing this Dr. is not the greatest at, and that's doing good ultrasounds. He never takes clear pictures, and actually this time he didn't even take one still shot at all, so left with no evidence of having seen my baby boy. But, he did show me the heartbeat and was able to reassure me that baby is in fact alive and well. Of course, he was not moving at ALL at first, except for the little flicker of his heart, so it wasn't really doing too much to make me feel better. Still, he just kept the ultrasound going and kept moving it around, and eventually Nolan (what we're calling our boy, at least for now) started to perform a bit more and was moving all over the place. That DID make me feel better, but overall it was kind of a weird experience. First, it was the first ultrasound I've done by myself this pregnancy. And second, after it was over I started to feel really hot and dizzy like I was going to faint. I have no idea what that was all about, but it was poor timing because that's when my OB started talking to me about some really heavy stuff.
Basically, he asked started by asking me if I ever see a psychologist. I said, "yes, I see a therapist," and when he asked who it was he said, "No, she's a psychiatrist, not a psychologist." Ok, what does it matter? I see someone who lets me talk through some of my issues, and that's the important thing. But I felt uncomfortable with how concerned he all of a sudden seemed to be about my anxiety and depression issues. Actually, he made me feel pretty self-concious about it, even though he did say "I hope you know that when talk to you about this stuff, I am not judging you at all. I'm just concerned about you." And I appreciated that, but I guess it still made me feel even worse, like something must REALLY be wrong with me. He looks at it as that this pregnancy appears totally fine and normal, so why am I fixated on my fear that we will lose the baby? I tried to explain to him that it's because that is all I KNOW with pregnancy so far, and so it's nearly impossible for me to imagine a different outcome. I thought as an OB with lots of experience he'd be able to understand that, but I guess I was wrong.
He then talked to me about how he is worried about how I'll feel/be after the baby is born. It was probably a good reality check for me to hear him say that it is often a lot harder than most women expect. He said, "I don't think this pregnancy has gone how you'd expected it to, right?" (Meaning it's been much harder emotionally than I even anticipated). I agreed. He then proceeded to tell me that he's concerned about how I'll handle things AFTER the baby is here. He said having a baby is often so different than what women expect, and that's it's also a lot harder. He's worried that with how much I worry NOW, I will worry even more once I have an infant in my care. And he's probably got a good point, if I'm honest with myself. Truthfully, I worry about post-partum depression all of the time, because I basically just assume I'll struggle with. Heck, I'm already struggling with depression as it is, and this should be one of the happiest times in my life. He knows I've been on medication in the past and so when we talked about it again, he said I might want to consider going on it right away after birth, even if means foregoing breastfeeding. This made me bristle, as that's not really an option for me. So long as I am able to breastfeed, that is what I want to do. It's so important to me for so many reasons (the least of which is not that my mom spent many years as a lactation specialist and is basically the queen of all things related to breastfeeding). But, I do get what he's saying. If I'm going to be too much of a mess to even care for my baby, then breastfeeding won't really matter at that point. Better for me to be healthy and emotionally available for my baby, I guess. It's a valid point.
Still, what I didn't like or appreciate about this conversation (although I do fully understand its relevance), is that my brain is so far away from thinking about life after this baby is born at this point, because right now I have enough to worry about in just fearing something will go wrong with my baby in the next 20 weeks. My anxiety has to do with losing the baby before its time, not with dealing with an infant. And I thought he understood that. All this appointment today did was provide one more thing for me to fret about, and really he just made me feel like I'm going to suck as a mom because I struggle with these issues I have no control over. I left feeling once again frustrated with myself that I can't just be "normal" and happy about my life, like everyone else. Clearly, if he's that concerned, there is something wrong with me, when right along I'd just assumed this was not abnormal behavior for a pregnant woman with a history of miscarriage. Maybe I was wrong...
Anyway, I just needed to vent. I apologize for how negative this blog has been lately, and assure you that I am not all doom and gloom 24 hours a day. I promise! And for today, Nolan is alive and kicking (even if I can't feel it yet), and that's all that matters. The rest is just details. I need to post a happier update with some pictures soon!
Now to try to stay cool in this too-hot heat... it is KILLING me! The next house we live in WILL have AC. :)
Monday, July 23, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
What's wrong with me?
I can't put my finger on it, but for some reason I have really been struggling with negative thoughts, fears and anxiety all week. After the euphoria of last week and the big gender reveal ultrasound, I did have a blissful few days of feeling reassured that my baby really was ok and that maybe, just maybe this could all work out. Well, unfortunately those days are gone and my old familiar friend, anxiety, has taken their place.
I do think a big part of my fear is that at 20 weeks, 2 days pregnant, I still don't really feel this baby move much, if at all. The only times I maybe feel movement are at night, towards bedtime, and even then I'm never sure if it's just my stomach or intestines acting up. I don't feel him during the day, even when I'm just reading on the couch. This makes me worry constantly. Despite many friends telling me they didn't feel any movement until more like 22 or 23 weeks, I guess I still expected it to be earlier for me. After all, every book will tell you you should feel those first movements sometime between 16-20 weeks. If this is often not the case, why don't they extend the latter date to give us late bloomers some peace? Because for someone like me, knowing I'm OUTSIDE of that range at this point, and still not really feeling anything, just makes me worry that something is wrong.
All of this means I have been abusing our little rented doppler this week. Baby boy's heart rate is never hard to find (well, not since that dreaded day in the UP, at around 16 weeks pregnant when we ended up in the ER because we couldn't find it), and that always makes me smile and relax... for a few hours, anyway. Nothing can give me peace like hearing his little heart tones beating away in there. If I could, and there weren't any risks, I think I'd just strap that thing on my belly and walk around listening to him all day long. That wouldn't look weird or anything.
I guess I'm just having one of those days where I find it hard to believe this could ever work out for us. I wish I didn't expect my baby to die, but I can't shake what I know, and so far that's just all I know of pregnancy. I so hope that this pregnancy will prove me wrong, and that my outlook will change if we are ever lucky enough to be blessed with future babies. And don't get me wrong, some days are better than others. I don't ALWAYS worry like this, but lately it feels like it's a higher percentage of the time than I'm really comfortable with.
Of course there are plenty of other things going on right now that add to my anxiety, so I'm sure this panic I feel is not ONLY due to my worry for the baby (although that is by far the most important issue on deck). There's also my job for the fall, which is still up in the air. After they told me on the last day of school I would only be 1/2 time at my high school next year, I still have yet to hear where I will be placed the other 1/2 of the day, and what I will be teaching. For a Type-A planner like me, this does not sit well. Will I have to share a classroom with someone? Where will I make copies? How will traveling from one building to the next work, and will I have to lug all of my crap with me back and forth every day? As a pregnant lady with a history of miscarriage, let me tell you, I do NOT carry heavy loads while pregnant, so that won't work for me. I don't look forward to starting over in a new building, having to meet all new colleagues and build rapport with the kids from scratch once again. I don't look forward to attending meetings in two buildings every week. Will I have a lunch hour, or will that be my travel time? Why, oh why, did this bomb have to be dropped on me the year I am finally expecting to have a baby half-way through it? It feels super chaotic, and I am not a big fan of chaos, to say the least.
Add to that the fact that we are house-hunting, needing to find something relatively fast. We still own a house in the town where we lived before we moved up north this year, and before we can deal with getting rid of it via short-sale or foreclosure (our only options, given what the house is worth at this point), we were advised by a lawyer that we needed to buy a house here first. If we don't, it could be 10 years before our credit is good enough to think about buying again. Having already moved twice in the last year, the thought of doing it again, while pregnant (or with a newborn), is enough to give me a panic attack. But before all of that can even happen, we have to find a place we both like and can afford, which is proving to be a challenge.
Looking at this list, I realize none of these things are that big of a deal. These are not horrible issues to deal with: I have a job, we can afford a house, I AM pregnant, at least for now. I think my anxiety just gets the best of me at times, and I need to find better ways to deal with that. Writing helps. The doppler helps. Walks help. And staying busy helps. To that end, I guess I better go find something to do!
I do think a big part of my fear is that at 20 weeks, 2 days pregnant, I still don't really feel this baby move much, if at all. The only times I maybe feel movement are at night, towards bedtime, and even then I'm never sure if it's just my stomach or intestines acting up. I don't feel him during the day, even when I'm just reading on the couch. This makes me worry constantly. Despite many friends telling me they didn't feel any movement until more like 22 or 23 weeks, I guess I still expected it to be earlier for me. After all, every book will tell you you should feel those first movements sometime between 16-20 weeks. If this is often not the case, why don't they extend the latter date to give us late bloomers some peace? Because for someone like me, knowing I'm OUTSIDE of that range at this point, and still not really feeling anything, just makes me worry that something is wrong.
All of this means I have been abusing our little rented doppler this week. Baby boy's heart rate is never hard to find (well, not since that dreaded day in the UP, at around 16 weeks pregnant when we ended up in the ER because we couldn't find it), and that always makes me smile and relax... for a few hours, anyway. Nothing can give me peace like hearing his little heart tones beating away in there. If I could, and there weren't any risks, I think I'd just strap that thing on my belly and walk around listening to him all day long. That wouldn't look weird or anything.
I guess I'm just having one of those days where I find it hard to believe this could ever work out for us. I wish I didn't expect my baby to die, but I can't shake what I know, and so far that's just all I know of pregnancy. I so hope that this pregnancy will prove me wrong, and that my outlook will change if we are ever lucky enough to be blessed with future babies. And don't get me wrong, some days are better than others. I don't ALWAYS worry like this, but lately it feels like it's a higher percentage of the time than I'm really comfortable with.
Of course there are plenty of other things going on right now that add to my anxiety, so I'm sure this panic I feel is not ONLY due to my worry for the baby (although that is by far the most important issue on deck). There's also my job for the fall, which is still up in the air. After they told me on the last day of school I would only be 1/2 time at my high school next year, I still have yet to hear where I will be placed the other 1/2 of the day, and what I will be teaching. For a Type-A planner like me, this does not sit well. Will I have to share a classroom with someone? Where will I make copies? How will traveling from one building to the next work, and will I have to lug all of my crap with me back and forth every day? As a pregnant lady with a history of miscarriage, let me tell you, I do NOT carry heavy loads while pregnant, so that won't work for me. I don't look forward to starting over in a new building, having to meet all new colleagues and build rapport with the kids from scratch once again. I don't look forward to attending meetings in two buildings every week. Will I have a lunch hour, or will that be my travel time? Why, oh why, did this bomb have to be dropped on me the year I am finally expecting to have a baby half-way through it? It feels super chaotic, and I am not a big fan of chaos, to say the least.
Add to that the fact that we are house-hunting, needing to find something relatively fast. We still own a house in the town where we lived before we moved up north this year, and before we can deal with getting rid of it via short-sale or foreclosure (our only options, given what the house is worth at this point), we were advised by a lawyer that we needed to buy a house here first. If we don't, it could be 10 years before our credit is good enough to think about buying again. Having already moved twice in the last year, the thought of doing it again, while pregnant (or with a newborn), is enough to give me a panic attack. But before all of that can even happen, we have to find a place we both like and can afford, which is proving to be a challenge.
Looking at this list, I realize none of these things are that big of a deal. These are not horrible issues to deal with: I have a job, we can afford a house, I AM pregnant, at least for now. I think my anxiety just gets the best of me at times, and I need to find better ways to deal with that. Writing helps. The doppler helps. Walks help. And staying busy helps. To that end, I guess I better go find something to do!
Monday, July 16, 2012
It's a boy :)
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| This is me with my baby boy at 19 weeks, 1 day (the day before our ultrasound). |
Well, we had our big ultrasound on Thursday, July 12th, and it went almost perfectly. Just like with my earlier ultrasounds, I spent a lot of time worrying and panicking during the days leading up to the appointment, but then found myself strangely serene and peaceful the actual day of the ultrasound. I do have to admit that I was just the slightest bit surprised when we saw (very clearly and right away) that our little one was a boy, though I felt nothing but joy and thankfulness with that news: It was a healthy baby, and that was all I really cared about. I had just spent so many weeks really thinking it was a girl, and that was what everyone else seemed to be guessing too, so it was a bit of a shock. :)
Phil was with me, and my mom was a bit late, though she did make it in time to see the whole 2nd half of the ultrasound. I'm glad they both could be there. Our tech who did it was the same woman who did our 8 week ultrasound, and she was wonderful. She explained as much as she could, and was very reassuring that all looked good. Our little guy was adorable, and I still can't believe the baby I saw on that screen is actually mine. I mean really, I never believed I'd get to have THIS ultrasound, because it was always so out of my reach. I still can't believe he was there, moving around and sucking his thumb (cutest thing ever, though someday our orthodontist bills might make me think otherwise :), measuring right where he should be. Actually, I think she said he was measuring a couple days ahead, and that is music to this mama's anxious ears. I was supposed to be 19 weeks, 2 days and little man was measuring 19 weeks, 4 days. I am hopeful he'll be a gigantic baby just like my brother and I were (nearly 10 lbs each)... Be careful what you wish for, right? But in my mind, big equals healthy, and that's what I want.
We met with Dr. W after the ultrasound, and he's not my regular OB. I was a little sad it couldn't be Dr. M, as he has been so amazing to me during this entire procedure, but as it turned out it was fine. The Dr. did say baby boy's ureters (connect to the kidneys) were measuring just a LITTLE bit
small, but that usually this is just a matter of how the image was taken. He said NOT to worry at all about it, but to be happy because it does mean I get to get another ultrasound in 8 weeks just to double
check. Of course this DID make me worry, but he was adamant that I not give it another thought, and that even if it was still there at the 28 week ultrasound, it's not a big deal. He even said he's never seen it actually be an issue past that point, but that even if it was, they'd just do an ultrasound of his kidneys after birth to make sure it was all ok.... But again, that he'd never once seen this happen. Of course, not being my regular OB, this man clearly does not know me well enough to know I WILL indeed worry about this, because that's just what I do. I'm a pro worrier. It's my job.
However, after talking with a few people in the know, I am feeling a bit more reassured about this issue. Thankfully, I even ran into Dr. M (my OB) the very next day out in public, and he was able to make me feel far better about it. He said that at any given time he has about 10 patients with this same issue, and that it never turns into anything (why do they even tell us, then?!). He also said his son (who he was carrying on his shoulders) had the same thing when he was in utero, and it was all fine. So, I'm working on setting it aside and praying lots for his little ureters to grow and catch up. And of course I am excited to see my baby boy again in 2 months! All in all, it was a great appointment... far better than I would have ever anticipated, and for that I am beyond thankful.
Now, I just need this little guy to start making himself known so I can relax about not feeling him move. Once in a while I think I do feel it, but it's only at night (night owl?) and it's not consistent. I find I'm still needing to use the doppler more than I'd really like, but my fear that his heart will stop beating has not gone away. Once I start feeling more movement, though, I'm really hoping my anxiety about this issue will chill out a bit. We shall see.
For now, here are some pictures of our sweet little boy. I think he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life.
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| Sucking his thumb! |
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| Both hands up by his face. |
And finally, here's a short video from the ultrasound, though it's not the greatest. You do see him swallow or yawn, and then suck his thumb.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
My Dental Hygienist Thinks I'm Really Having a Baby
Once in a while I find myself taken aback by other people's reactions to my pregnancy: Mostly, they seem to truly believe I'll be bringing a baby home in December. Huh, you could have fooled me. More and more frequently lately, I find myself having conversations about things I still can't imagine actually happening to me. For example, last night I was with some girlfriends, 3 of which have had babies in the last year. They were asking me about labor and my plans for that, and I admit I was kind of left speechless. I can't think beyond today at this point, and most of the time even that is too much. I still spend a good percent of every day believing my baby will die, since, well, that's just what happens to me. So what if I'm 19 weeks now instead of 10 like before? Yes, it's further than we've ever been, but I guess I've been surprised by how little reassurance or confidence that really gives me. Things happen, bad things, at every point in pregnancy, including after the baby is born. And once you go through loss and your innocence is shattered, I've found it's pretty damn hard to put aside that knowledge that not all babies make it. I just can't be very optimistic anymore, though I wish with all my heart I could. So I anticipate I'll start thinking about labor at oh, maybe 8 months, 3 weeks pregnant. I'll HAVE to at that point, right? Ha.
My pessimism ("hope for the best, but expect the worst") is something I am getting good at hiding in public. I only let my true (doom and gloom) colors show with the people I really trust, and even then I'm not always honest about how I'm feeling. Because let's be honest, people can get tired of hearing my fears that my baby might be dead pretty darn quickly. It's just not a normal conversation most sane human beings are willing to have more than once in a while. So typically now, I just act like I'm fine and the baby is fine and that's that. No fear, no worries. I'm just a happy pregnant lady like the rest of the them. Only I'm not.
I had my 6 month check up at the dentist today, and it was kind of hard for me. The hygienist of course started by asking my favorite question: "Is this your first baby?" I wasn't feeling up to talking about my history, so I just answered, "yes." She then proceeds to enter my due date in their computer, while she fires away at a million questions a minute. What are my plans for taking maternity leave? Are my parents excited to be grandparents? How has the pregnancy been so far? And on and on. When my cleaning was done, she got on the computer to schedule my next appointment for January. "You'll have a baby with you then, but you can just bring it to the office! We have babies in here all the time. Of course, maybe you'll be ready for a break at that point, in which case you could just come on your own for the appointment. Or, if the weather is bad and you don't want to drive with the baby on snowy roads yet, you can always reschedule." I sat there with my mouth hanging open. She really, truly believed I would be having this baby, no problem, in December. There's no doubt about it. She even picked out a baby toothbrush for ages 4-24 months, and put it in my bag with my own supplies. WHAT!? I mean, don't get me wrong, it was so sweet and kind of her, but it really made me uncomfortable because it just highlights to me how jaded I am about the whole thing. I got even more uncomfortable when she walked me out and loudly announced I was going to "be a mommy" to every single employee in the place. I mean seriously. As I was leaving, the lady vacuuming by the front door even said "congratulations" to me. Thanks?? I think? I'm glad SOMEONE can feel confident this will all end well.
See, I haven't had this baby yet. And until I do, and I see it breathing and moving in my arms, I don't think I'm going to believe this is real. Babies happen to other people, not to me. My babies die without explanation, and then I find out about it weeks later. That's just what happens, people! Why don't others seem more worried about that? I guess it's because they haven't walked in my shoes... and hopefully they never will.
So anyway, I have a baby toothbrush in my possession now. And for some reason, that really freaks me out.
Oh, and then there are all the women I know who are due right around the same time as me, and many of them are already having baby showers this summer. It honestly blows my mind! One girl even has her nursery entirely painted, assembled and ready to go, right down to the bedding, the diapers, and the closet full of clothes. She is due a month before me. That means November. It's July. Is this normal behavior? Am I just that far out of the loop? I feel like I won't feel comfortable having a shower until the baby is already here (I'll just jinx myself if I do it before, right?), but friends have assured me that will change as I get further along. Still, it's just another thing to make me feel like an outsider on this whole thing called pregnancy. I'm out here, while the rest of them are in there actually BELIEVING their babies will come home with them at the end of this whole process. Imagine that. I wish I could!
I'll end with a self-taken picture from last week (18 weeks and a few days). Sometimes looking at these pictures forces me to realize that at least for now, there really IS a baby growing away in there.
My pessimism ("hope for the best, but expect the worst") is something I am getting good at hiding in public. I only let my true (doom and gloom) colors show with the people I really trust, and even then I'm not always honest about how I'm feeling. Because let's be honest, people can get tired of hearing my fears that my baby might be dead pretty darn quickly. It's just not a normal conversation most sane human beings are willing to have more than once in a while. So typically now, I just act like I'm fine and the baby is fine and that's that. No fear, no worries. I'm just a happy pregnant lady like the rest of the them. Only I'm not.
I had my 6 month check up at the dentist today, and it was kind of hard for me. The hygienist of course started by asking my favorite question: "Is this your first baby?" I wasn't feeling up to talking about my history, so I just answered, "yes." She then proceeds to enter my due date in their computer, while she fires away at a million questions a minute. What are my plans for taking maternity leave? Are my parents excited to be grandparents? How has the pregnancy been so far? And on and on. When my cleaning was done, she got on the computer to schedule my next appointment for January. "You'll have a baby with you then, but you can just bring it to the office! We have babies in here all the time. Of course, maybe you'll be ready for a break at that point, in which case you could just come on your own for the appointment. Or, if the weather is bad and you don't want to drive with the baby on snowy roads yet, you can always reschedule." I sat there with my mouth hanging open. She really, truly believed I would be having this baby, no problem, in December. There's no doubt about it. She even picked out a baby toothbrush for ages 4-24 months, and put it in my bag with my own supplies. WHAT!? I mean, don't get me wrong, it was so sweet and kind of her, but it really made me uncomfortable because it just highlights to me how jaded I am about the whole thing. I got even more uncomfortable when she walked me out and loudly announced I was going to "be a mommy" to every single employee in the place. I mean seriously. As I was leaving, the lady vacuuming by the front door even said "congratulations" to me. Thanks?? I think? I'm glad SOMEONE can feel confident this will all end well.
See, I haven't had this baby yet. And until I do, and I see it breathing and moving in my arms, I don't think I'm going to believe this is real. Babies happen to other people, not to me. My babies die without explanation, and then I find out about it weeks later. That's just what happens, people! Why don't others seem more worried about that? I guess it's because they haven't walked in my shoes... and hopefully they never will.
So anyway, I have a baby toothbrush in my possession now. And for some reason, that really freaks me out.
Oh, and then there are all the women I know who are due right around the same time as me, and many of them are already having baby showers this summer. It honestly blows my mind! One girl even has her nursery entirely painted, assembled and ready to go, right down to the bedding, the diapers, and the closet full of clothes. She is due a month before me. That means November. It's July. Is this normal behavior? Am I just that far out of the loop? I feel like I won't feel comfortable having a shower until the baby is already here (I'll just jinx myself if I do it before, right?), but friends have assured me that will change as I get further along. Still, it's just another thing to make me feel like an outsider on this whole thing called pregnancy. I'm out here, while the rest of them are in there actually BELIEVING their babies will come home with them at the end of this whole process. Imagine that. I wish I could!
I'll end with a self-taken picture from last week (18 weeks and a few days). Sometimes looking at these pictures forces me to realize that at least for now, there really IS a baby growing away in there.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Pregnancy in Pictures (so far)
We didn't start taking these pictures until more like 14 weeks, for obvious reasons given our history, but since no one reads this blog anyway, I thought I'd post these for myself to look at. :)
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| I took this test the day I was supposed to meet my friend Julie for a hard cider at Tandem Ciders as a "just in case". I literally could not believe and proceeded to say "What the F*$#?!" How romantic. It was just VERY unexpected after months of unsuccessful fertility treatments and then bad news about both Phil's and my own reproductive health. Talk about an unexpected gift. |
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| Same day. Still in disbelief. |
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| Congratulatory flowers from my dear husband and my mother-in-law. |
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| First belly picture taken around 12 weeks at Pyramid Point. |
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| 14 weeks |
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| About 14.5 weeks, in Pentwater, MI |
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| 15 weeks |
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| 16 weeks, in Copper Harbor, MI |
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| 16 weeks from the front |
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| 17 weeks, in Traverse City, meeting Phil on his lunch hour |
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| 17.5 weeks, heading out for Frisbee Golf with Jen and Erik |
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| 18 weeks |
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| 18 weeks |
18 weeks
I see these posts on many of the blogs I follow, and realized I have not recorded a single moment of this pregnancy so far, out of fear mostly. My first pregnancy, I bought a pregnancy journal and immediately began recording every single detail, until the day we found out the baby was gone... I just haven't been able to go back there since then. And yet, I know I will want to remember things about this whole experience.
How Far Along: 18 weeks, 1 day
Size of Baby: About 5.5 inches long and 7 ounces (about the size of a bell pepper)
Weight Gain: Well, I never weighed myself before the pregnancy, or really until the 12 week appointment, I don't think. Again, I was too paranoid and didn't want to do anything that would indicate I really was putting my hopes into this pregnancy yet. But, I think I was around 132-135 at the start, and I'm around 145 right now, so 10 whole pounds already. This seems like a lot, but I'm not going to worry about it. :)
Belly: Definitely showing a nice little belly now, and I love it. I feel incredibly proud of this little belly and try to wear clothes that show it, rather than hide it. I just never thought I'd get to have a my very own baby belly!
Sleep: I get at least 8 hours a night, and most mornings feel like I could keep sleeping forever. I sleep great right now, and usually only get up once to go to the bathroom, typically not until early morning though. I use lots of pillows to keep me positioned on my side (left side mostly, as that's recommended), and am pretty comfortable. I am NOT a napper, but occasionally take a little afternoon snooze if I'm reading and the mood strikes. It's great being on summer break right now, because it really allows me the luxury of sleeping as much as I like/need to.
Movement: I have felt what I think/hope are some movements, but I have no idea if it's the baby or just my stomach being active/gassy. It feels similar to that, like a faint rumbling. It happened for the first time last Sunday when Phil and I were tubing down the Platte River, and I've felt it a few times since then. Of course, now I am super paranoid whenever I CAN'T feel it and find I am using the doppler more than I'd like. It just helps me to hear that sweet little heartbeat pumping away in there, when otherwise there's no way of knowing if this baby is still alive or not. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm just going to worry about my baby dying up until the very end. I can't help it. I hope it gets better once he/she really starts moving more though.
Food Cravings: Kettle cooked potato chips, specifically a kind I get at Oryana's made with Avocado Oil. I ate an entire bag one day last week and have only bought them once since then. They're dangerous right now! So, so good. I want some right now.
Clothes: My mom took me to get some maternity clothes after my 15 week appointment, which was a hard step for me to take. I really felt like I was jinxing things since the last time we bought clothes like this, my baby died the next day. But, it was necessary and even a little fun. At least they are all from a very cute consignment shop downtown, so they're not brand new. I'm mostly wearing skirts with stretchy material or dresses. I don't like anything at all restricting around my waste at this point.
Appointments: Next Thursday, July 12th, is our BIG appointment at 19 weeks, 2 days. We'll see the baby on ultrasound for the first time since 12 weeks, and we'll also find out if it's a boy or a girl. Of course I'm also super nervous because they look at the development of everything too, to make sure the baby is healthy. I'm praying hard everything will check out as normal!
Emotions: I'm all over the place. I feel very happy at times, but more often I feel nervous and worried and insecure. I still can't believe I could really do this, that my body could carry a baby to term and that we could bring home a real, live baby at the end of it all. Still, I get really excited when I think I feel it moving. I love this baby so much, but it's still hard for me to really let myself fully attach. It's still self-preservation at this point. I also still struggle with sadness about our history and jealousy towards other women going through pregnancy who have never had a single issue getting pregnant or staying pregnant. I wonder if that will just always be a part of who I am. I hope not.
There are other moments I want to record here too, like the time I puked in the middle of the Blue Bird restaurant in Leland on my dad's birthday. It was classic, and horrible and wonderful all at once. I was thankful for every episode of nausea and vomiting that came my way that first trimester, and that was no exception, even if it WAS embarrassing. I think I was between 9-10 weeks along, and we went out there for the buffet lunch that Sunday. I got my first plate of food and although I wasn't feeling great, I didn't think I was going to throw up. Well, suddenly that changed and I said "I'm going to the bathroom." My mom asked if I needed her to come, and while I said no, I'm so glad she followed me anyway. For the first time ever, I did NOT make it to the bathroom, and instead puked right there on the floor, in the middle of all the buffet tables and the people filling their plates. I tried to catch it in my hands (so gross), but it went everywhere, including all over my pants and shoes. Yummy, enjoy your lunches everyone. :) My mom helped me clean up in the bathroom, after assuring everyone that I was NOT sick and did NOT have the flu, I was just pregnant. And the poor hostess was stuck cleaning up my mess, while I went back to sit down and eat my lunch (I felt better after throwing up, of course, and was able to eat). We all had a good laugh, but my dad did joke that we wouldn't be coming back there anytime soon. That was definitely a low point/highlight of my pregnancy, and one I don't want to forget!
How Far Along: 18 weeks, 1 day
Size of Baby: About 5.5 inches long and 7 ounces (about the size of a bell pepper)
Sleep: I get at least 8 hours a night, and most mornings feel like I could keep sleeping forever. I sleep great right now, and usually only get up once to go to the bathroom, typically not until early morning though. I use lots of pillows to keep me positioned on my side (left side mostly, as that's recommended), and am pretty comfortable. I am NOT a napper, but occasionally take a little afternoon snooze if I'm reading and the mood strikes. It's great being on summer break right now, because it really allows me the luxury of sleeping as much as I like/need to.
Movement: I have felt what I think/hope are some movements, but I have no idea if it's the baby or just my stomach being active/gassy. It feels similar to that, like a faint rumbling. It happened for the first time last Sunday when Phil and I were tubing down the Platte River, and I've felt it a few times since then. Of course, now I am super paranoid whenever I CAN'T feel it and find I am using the doppler more than I'd like. It just helps me to hear that sweet little heartbeat pumping away in there, when otherwise there's no way of knowing if this baby is still alive or not. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm just going to worry about my baby dying up until the very end. I can't help it. I hope it gets better once he/she really starts moving more though.
Appointments: Next Thursday, July 12th, is our BIG appointment at 19 weeks, 2 days. We'll see the baby on ultrasound for the first time since 12 weeks, and we'll also find out if it's a boy or a girl. Of course I'm also super nervous because they look at the development of everything too, to make sure the baby is healthy. I'm praying hard everything will check out as normal!
Emotions: I'm all over the place. I feel very happy at times, but more often I feel nervous and worried and insecure. I still can't believe I could really do this, that my body could carry a baby to term and that we could bring home a real, live baby at the end of it all. Still, I get really excited when I think I feel it moving. I love this baby so much, but it's still hard for me to really let myself fully attach. It's still self-preservation at this point. I also still struggle with sadness about our history and jealousy towards other women going through pregnancy who have never had a single issue getting pregnant or staying pregnant. I wonder if that will just always be a part of who I am. I hope not.
There are other moments I want to record here too, like the time I puked in the middle of the Blue Bird restaurant in Leland on my dad's birthday. It was classic, and horrible and wonderful all at once. I was thankful for every episode of nausea and vomiting that came my way that first trimester, and that was no exception, even if it WAS embarrassing. I think I was between 9-10 weeks along, and we went out there for the buffet lunch that Sunday. I got my first plate of food and although I wasn't feeling great, I didn't think I was going to throw up. Well, suddenly that changed and I said "I'm going to the bathroom." My mom asked if I needed her to come, and while I said no, I'm so glad she followed me anyway. For the first time ever, I did NOT make it to the bathroom, and instead puked right there on the floor, in the middle of all the buffet tables and the people filling their plates. I tried to catch it in my hands (so gross), but it went everywhere, including all over my pants and shoes. Yummy, enjoy your lunches everyone. :) My mom helped me clean up in the bathroom, after assuring everyone that I was NOT sick and did NOT have the flu, I was just pregnant. And the poor hostess was stuck cleaning up my mess, while I went back to sit down and eat my lunch (I felt better after throwing up, of course, and was able to eat). We all had a good laugh, but my dad did joke that we wouldn't be coming back there anytime soon. That was definitely a low point/highlight of my pregnancy, and one I don't want to forget!
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Pregnancy after loss is pretty brutal
Today I am 16 weeks pregnant. I should be joyous, excited, THRILLED by this gift of life growing inside of me. I should be posting pictures of my belly and quips about my cravings on facebook. In short, I should be happy. So, why can't I be happy? Why am I SO incredibly sad and anxious during this blessed time in my life? I'll tell you why.
My history with pregnancy has been all about loss, sadness, never-ending grief, depression, anxiety, frustrations, broken faith, losing sight of who I used to be and generally just coming to a place in my life where I truly believed my time would never come. I feel weak when I write this, since I know my 2 miscarriages are really not that bad compared to what many women in this horrible club have had to endure on their personal journeys to motherhood. But for me, it has been enough to completely shatter any hope I might have had for every having a "happy" pregnancy. I am a broken woman unable to trust this body of mine, scared to trust God, and stuck in a cycle of bitterness towards every woman who seemingly has her children handed to her on a silver platter without ever having to know what loss and infertility can do to the female soul.
Mostly though, I feel two things: scared (terrified, actually) and sad (heartbroken is more like it). I am terrified every single waking second that the baby inside of me has died, and that kills me. But really, I know nothing else when it comes to pregnancy. For me, babies start growing in my womb, and then one day with no explanation, their little hearts just up and stop. And historically, when this happens, my dysfunctional body doesn't even do its job and give me signs that something is wrong. Oh no, my body just keeps on acting pregnant until whenever I get my next ultrasound. This experience of having missed miscarriages has apparently scarred me for life. Not only can I not trust my body to house and nurture a baby properly, but I also can't trust it to TELL me if something is wrong. What this does is leave me in a perpetual state of panic and anxiety that while my child is still with me physically, it is no longer actually ALIVE inside of me. And that will really mess with your head, let me tell you.
To "help" with this issue, my husband and I thought it would be a good idea to rent a fetal doppler monitor online, essentially allowing us to check the baby's heart tones any time we (I) feel scared. This has been both a blessing and curse: at times it really HAS worked to reassure me that all is well.
And then there was today.
Today I woke up part-way through out week-long vacation in the UP and I was in a panic. I couldn't explain it, I just felt ANXIOUS. I stayed in bed a while just praying that God would help me with these feelings I seem to grapple with daily, but then finally got up to start our day. After breakfast, we (I) decided to just try the doppler "quickly" to put our minds at ease. Well, this time, we couldn't for the life of us hear anything other than my own heart beat. We tried again and again, and each time, nothing. Phil was ready to drive back home so we could see our OB, but instead we settled on going back to Marquette, which was the nearest hospital. A quick trip the ER, and we could once again breathe a sigh of relief that at least for today, our baby is still alive and kicking.The nurse had trouble finding the tones too, but eventually she did, handing us each the headphones so we could hear for ourselves. She said the baby was moving around a lot, so it was hard to keep the heart tones steady. I imagine the baby was pissed by how much we were bombarding it all morning with those invasive doppler sound waves, so it was swimming around angrily, trying to give us the hint to stop bothering it. Did I feel silly for taking a trip to the ER? Of course. But I also felt such relief that at least for today, that little one still has a beating heart.
This is the hardest thing I have ever been through, aside from the miscarriages themselves, and this has really surprised me. Getting and staying pregnant is ALL I have wanted for the last 2.5 years, so now that I have achieved that, I should feel relieved, right? Well, I seem unable to "let go" and believe this baby could actually live. I just can't do it. I am stuck in this scared, sad place, and I guess I need to buckle down and just ride it out for the next 5 months... which really doesn't sound too pleasant, to be honest. But PLEASE, don't get me wrong. I will gladly suffer some anxiety and depression if it means we'll actually finally get to bring home our baby at the end. It's such a small price to pay, I know. I'm sorry to sound so ungrateful...
Really, I haven't even touched on my other constant emotional companion yet, sadness. Oh, but it's there too. It's there in my tears when I wish I could be a carefree pregnant lady, just enjoying these final months alone with my husband. It's there in my grief over the 2 babies I have lost already, which contrary to the wishes of those around me, hasn't just disappeared (I will always miss those little lives I never got to meet, though I know the pain will continue to ease with time). It's there in the realization that this is not what pregnancy should be like. It's in the rock of bitterness I swallow every time I read a blissfully ignorant woman's post on facebook about her pregnancy and how excited she is (and that bitterness really deserves its own post, b/c it's another constant struggle for me, and one I am not proud of). I look at these women, many of them friends, who are on to their 2nd blissful pregnancy since we first started this whole journey, and it is literally impossible for me to be happy for them. Instead, I feel jealousy, anger and yes, even hatred at times. I hate them for not having to know this pain and sadness. I hate them for getting to keep their baby #1, knowing they will also get to keep baby #2, while I'm on baby #3 and still don't believe I'll actually get to bring this baby home at the end. I hate them for getting to just BELIEVE the lives they create with their husbands will actually be born in 9 months time, without ever once having to worry that maybe this baby will die too, just like the others. I hate them for just getting to decide "the time is right" for baby #1, 2, 3 or whatever, and then getting to space them out perfectly b/c as soon as they try, they're pregnant. Just like that. No cycle charting, OPK's, shots, pills, follicle studies or even prayers needed. They just decide they're ready for a baby and then it magically happens. And I hate them for it.
Here's the thing though: I don't actually HATE them, although it feels like I do (and certainly sounds like I do if you were to hear me comment to my husband about their facebook posts). I think what I really hate is something else, and I haven't really put my finger on what it is yet. Myself and my broken body? Sure. God? Unfortunately, I've struggled with hating him too. Fate? I don't know. Call it what you want, I just flat out HATE that this is my life and that this is what I have become. I just want to be a mom, and I don't want it to be so damn hard. But that's stupid to even say, because, well, it IS hard. And you know what? If we bring home a baby in December, it will all be worth it.
I feel better already for just getting this OUT. I need to get back to writing more, and since no one reads this, maybe this is the way to do it...
My history with pregnancy has been all about loss, sadness, never-ending grief, depression, anxiety, frustrations, broken faith, losing sight of who I used to be and generally just coming to a place in my life where I truly believed my time would never come. I feel weak when I write this, since I know my 2 miscarriages are really not that bad compared to what many women in this horrible club have had to endure on their personal journeys to motherhood. But for me, it has been enough to completely shatter any hope I might have had for every having a "happy" pregnancy. I am a broken woman unable to trust this body of mine, scared to trust God, and stuck in a cycle of bitterness towards every woman who seemingly has her children handed to her on a silver platter without ever having to know what loss and infertility can do to the female soul.
Mostly though, I feel two things: scared (terrified, actually) and sad (heartbroken is more like it). I am terrified every single waking second that the baby inside of me has died, and that kills me. But really, I know nothing else when it comes to pregnancy. For me, babies start growing in my womb, and then one day with no explanation, their little hearts just up and stop. And historically, when this happens, my dysfunctional body doesn't even do its job and give me signs that something is wrong. Oh no, my body just keeps on acting pregnant until whenever I get my next ultrasound. This experience of having missed miscarriages has apparently scarred me for life. Not only can I not trust my body to house and nurture a baby properly, but I also can't trust it to TELL me if something is wrong. What this does is leave me in a perpetual state of panic and anxiety that while my child is still with me physically, it is no longer actually ALIVE inside of me. And that will really mess with your head, let me tell you.
To "help" with this issue, my husband and I thought it would be a good idea to rent a fetal doppler monitor online, essentially allowing us to check the baby's heart tones any time we (I) feel scared. This has been both a blessing and curse: at times it really HAS worked to reassure me that all is well.
And then there was today.
Today I woke up part-way through out week-long vacation in the UP and I was in a panic. I couldn't explain it, I just felt ANXIOUS. I stayed in bed a while just praying that God would help me with these feelings I seem to grapple with daily, but then finally got up to start our day. After breakfast, we (I) decided to just try the doppler "quickly" to put our minds at ease. Well, this time, we couldn't for the life of us hear anything other than my own heart beat. We tried again and again, and each time, nothing. Phil was ready to drive back home so we could see our OB, but instead we settled on going back to Marquette, which was the nearest hospital. A quick trip the ER, and we could once again breathe a sigh of relief that at least for today, our baby is still alive and kicking.The nurse had trouble finding the tones too, but eventually she did, handing us each the headphones so we could hear for ourselves. She said the baby was moving around a lot, so it was hard to keep the heart tones steady. I imagine the baby was pissed by how much we were bombarding it all morning with those invasive doppler sound waves, so it was swimming around angrily, trying to give us the hint to stop bothering it. Did I feel silly for taking a trip to the ER? Of course. But I also felt such relief that at least for today, that little one still has a beating heart.
This is the hardest thing I have ever been through, aside from the miscarriages themselves, and this has really surprised me. Getting and staying pregnant is ALL I have wanted for the last 2.5 years, so now that I have achieved that, I should feel relieved, right? Well, I seem unable to "let go" and believe this baby could actually live. I just can't do it. I am stuck in this scared, sad place, and I guess I need to buckle down and just ride it out for the next 5 months... which really doesn't sound too pleasant, to be honest. But PLEASE, don't get me wrong. I will gladly suffer some anxiety and depression if it means we'll actually finally get to bring home our baby at the end. It's such a small price to pay, I know. I'm sorry to sound so ungrateful...
Really, I haven't even touched on my other constant emotional companion yet, sadness. Oh, but it's there too. It's there in my tears when I wish I could be a carefree pregnant lady, just enjoying these final months alone with my husband. It's there in my grief over the 2 babies I have lost already, which contrary to the wishes of those around me, hasn't just disappeared (I will always miss those little lives I never got to meet, though I know the pain will continue to ease with time). It's there in the realization that this is not what pregnancy should be like. It's in the rock of bitterness I swallow every time I read a blissfully ignorant woman's post on facebook about her pregnancy and how excited she is (and that bitterness really deserves its own post, b/c it's another constant struggle for me, and one I am not proud of). I look at these women, many of them friends, who are on to their 2nd blissful pregnancy since we first started this whole journey, and it is literally impossible for me to be happy for them. Instead, I feel jealousy, anger and yes, even hatred at times. I hate them for not having to know this pain and sadness. I hate them for getting to keep their baby #1, knowing they will also get to keep baby #2, while I'm on baby #3 and still don't believe I'll actually get to bring this baby home at the end. I hate them for getting to just BELIEVE the lives they create with their husbands will actually be born in 9 months time, without ever once having to worry that maybe this baby will die too, just like the others. I hate them for just getting to decide "the time is right" for baby #1, 2, 3 or whatever, and then getting to space them out perfectly b/c as soon as they try, they're pregnant. Just like that. No cycle charting, OPK's, shots, pills, follicle studies or even prayers needed. They just decide they're ready for a baby and then it magically happens. And I hate them for it.
Here's the thing though: I don't actually HATE them, although it feels like I do (and certainly sounds like I do if you were to hear me comment to my husband about their facebook posts). I think what I really hate is something else, and I haven't really put my finger on what it is yet. Myself and my broken body? Sure. God? Unfortunately, I've struggled with hating him too. Fate? I don't know. Call it what you want, I just flat out HATE that this is my life and that this is what I have become. I just want to be a mom, and I don't want it to be so damn hard. But that's stupid to even say, because, well, it IS hard. And you know what? If we bring home a baby in December, it will all be worth it.
I feel better already for just getting this OUT. I need to get back to writing more, and since no one reads this, maybe this is the way to do it...
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