It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

One year ago my life fell apart. Today marks the 1 year anniversary of my ectopic pregnancy. It's a day I've watched approach on the calendar for months.

On one hand it seems so long ago, and on the other it feels like an eternity has passed.

I'm generally not one with a great memory, but I remember every excruciating detail of that day. Like it's burned in my mind.

As I was going about my business this morning getting ready for work I kept thinking to myself: exactly one year ago at this minute, I had no idea that my life was about to turn upside down in a matter of hours. But that didn't stop it from happening.

I planned for a long time to take this day off. To spend it by myself. Reliving the day and every gut wrenching detail. To go over my grief journal, which I've never reread. And to look at the pictures, which I've never brought myself to look at.

But as the day grew closer, and I started to feel the intensity of those feelings again, I decided not to. My heart started to feel the hurt of the loss and the trauma of nearly losing my life. I just can't allow myself to go back to that place again. That grief is like a black pit with no guarantee of safe return. Was there ever a safe return?

Yes, the hope of new life does ease the pain of the loss, I can't lie about that. It makes it much more bearable, but I still think about the ep every day. It's a part of me and a part of who I am.

I remember in the days and weeks after it happened wondering if I would ever be the same. I was so afraid because I knew I would be different, but I didn't know how.

One year later I can say that I am different. I am more thankful, more grateful and more appreciative of the ones I love and the world around me. It took me a long time to get here.

I don't know what the future holds for this pregnancy or future ones, but I hope my heart never has to know hurt like that again.

In the meantime, I'm thankful for every day. If that means I don't get another day, than I'm thankful for what I had while I had it. I wont live my life in fear because of loss, grief or IF.


To my precious one, I see your halo shining every day. You're always in my heart. xo

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness

I want to take a moment to acknowledge Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day. And recognize each of you that have been through a pregnancy or infant loss. I know how hard it is. And I know that even though there is an “awareness” day that people who have not been through it would prefer to be unaware (with the exception of the IF community;o).

Did you know that JFK and Jackie suffered multiple losses? Jackie had a miscarriage in 1955, and a still birth in 1956. In 1963 their son, Patrick, was born 5 weeks premature and passed away when he was 39 days old due to complications. He passed just a couple of months before the assassination. I can’t imagine the hurt that Jackie must have felt.

For those that have experienced a loss, my thoughts are with you today. Know that I know your pain. I know that you learn how to be functional again in the wake of a loss, but the true raw ache never really goes away.

If you want to take a moment to remember a loss, please feel free to do so here. No emotion is off limits here, ever.

Can I just say...

I am sick and tired of people telling me not to worry that I'll have another baby someday. It's not about my ability to have a baby. It's about how the loss of my first pregnancy is affecting my life. Don't reduce what I've been through because you have no idea what it's like. Like having a baby will suddenly make it all okay? Guess what? No matter how many children I go on to have someday I will never forget what I have lost. Ever. Having a baby is not the magical cure for babyloss. Having a baby will not make my heart hurt any less for what I have lost. It's like telling someone that's newly divorced "don't worry, you'll get married again someday." how dumb is that? Seriously.

Oh, you didn't get the memo?

You know that feeling when you have just taken a kung fu shot to the gut? Allow me to explain…
My brother calls last night. When I didn’t answer (I was in my garden) he called Keith’s phone. Didn’t leave messages on either phones. Weird. I call him back we catch up on weekend and general life goings on for about 20 minutes. Semi strange. He asks about my dr. appointment this week. We talked about that and fertility in general for about another 15 minutes. Also, strange. Finally, he says he called because he wanted to tell me something. Long pause. He gets emotional, starts crying. I’m thinking, aw, my brother wants to tell me how much he loves me and how he doesn’t say it often enough, but the things I’ve been through have made him think about how thankful he is for having such a wonderful sister. Right. Then… KAPOW (insert kung fu shot to the gut). My SIL is pregnant. He didn’t know how I’d react. (wait I’m still gasping for air). He hopes I’m not too upset. (clearly not what I was expecting). Obviously they didn’t get the memo that no one in the world is allowed to get pregnant until I finally am able to produce offspring. Inconsiderate jerks. As I’m choking back tears I tell him how deliriously happy I am for them, of course I’m not upset, I’m sure it won’t be easy for me, but I am certainly not upset. Next time read your memo and we can avoid a situation like this happening in the first place.

The reality is, of course I’m happy for them. I am so happy that they don’t have to go through what I’ve been though. I would never want that for anyone. No one should ever know what it’s like to have trouble conceiving, or to know what’s like to experience a loss. It’s indescribable. Because of our differing realities with conception I feel like it makes it harder and harder for me to relate to them. I feel like I roll my eyes at people a lot and think, if you felt an ounce of the hurt I feel, then you would have a glimpse into the heartbreak that I live every day.
When we hung up the phone I exploded into tears. I’m happy that they don’t know the pain that I know. But I’m sad that I don’t know the joy that they know.
It’s not about “ever” getting pregnant. I’m not worried about that. I’m confident that someday we’ll get to be parents too. It’s the excitement and happiness around that inevitable day that I’m already missing, even though it hasn’t come yet. I know it will be filled with stress and worry, and I wish it didn’t have to be that way. Once you feel that hurt the fear that you will feel it again lingers. I hope in time that fear can fade.

In other, brighter, news, I definitely ov’d this weekend! So glad to be done with those OPK’s for a while. I definitely pee’d on multiple sticks Thursday and Friday to compare the intensity and darkness of the test line to the reference line. I stopped short of getting my microscope out because, oh yeah, I don’t have one. Seriously, you need a Harvard MD to be able to interpret those things.
To put it blunt, we did it like teenagers this weekend. Seriously. I won’t go into any more detail than that. Sunday morning though I had the smallest amount of spotting with my first morning pee (yeah yeah, tmi, I know). If it had been a week later I would’ve been all excited thinking it was implantation spotting. But I know it’s way too soon for that. It worried me a little bit, so I tried to lay low for the rest of the day and I didn’t have any more.
Stay tuned the two week wait is on and it won’t be pretty.

Un-mother's day

Yesterday was an emotional day for me, as I’m sure it was for many. I stumbled across a great poem another blogger wrote. To all the sweet, precious, delicate petals our flowers have lost:

Not just today.
Not just during daylight.
Not just during night time.
Always and every day.
Absent and yet so present.
Missed and so deeply loved.



1 month until my next surgery.

You can hate it or love it

I got blindsided at an open house I was doing yesterday. I never even saw it coming. Allow me to set the scene… A couple in their 70’s came to see the house. They thought the main house might be perfect for their son and his family and the in law apartment for themselves. As I was taking them through the house they were telling me about their children and grandchildren. After about 20 minutes they decided that the house had too many stairs for them. Since they had been talking about their family when they left I wished the wife a happy mothers day next weekend. I should have seen it coming… her sweet little old husband turned to me and asked if I was a mother. I was so shocked that I didn’t know what to say. I said no. He smiled and said that someday I would be. And I’m sure he’s right. But in the meantime, this mother’s day sucks. I just want to hide. I don’t want to see mother’s day advertisements or commercials. I’m taking my mother to a Best of Broadway performance on Saturday night. I’m hoping to just be alone on Sunday. It’s going to be a hard week. But I hope that the mere recognition will make it easier.

It’s like I’m stuck. But I have to make progress. I can’t stay this way forever. The countdown to the next surgery is 38 days. I hope that by the time that it’s here I’ll be doing better. But I’m afraid. What if I am this way forever? We’re seeing our psychologist on Wednesday in a positive effort not to remain lunatics forever. I shouldn’t speak for Keith. He’s not a lunatic.

In positive news, we made a new garden this weekend. I love it. It came out so nice. I love gardening so much, even though I got stung by a wasp this weekend. Ouch! It was worth it. We still have some more planting to do, which I’m hoping we’ll be able to do tonight before dark.

When you're dreaming with a broken heart...

For some reason I feel like I’ve been in a funk for the last few days. I’m just feeling down and mopey. Call it self loathing, I really don’t care. We went to Lowe’s this weekend and got some flowers for a new garden I want to start. We got a couple peonies and a blueberry. We got some geraniums for a hanging planter. It all overwhelmed me pretty quickly. I don’t know why I’ve been so down and easily overwhelmed the last couple of days. I think a lot of it has to do with constant pain in my left side. It’s like a constant reminder. And I don’t know why the pain is there. Is it scar tissue? An infection? I have no idea. The surgery was 6 ½ weeks ago. Shouldn’t the pain be getting better? And it was the right tube that the surgery was on, why is the left side hurting? It’s a constant ache. I saw people out jogging and playing tennis this weekend and I hate that I can’t do any of that. Exercising used to be such a release for me. Even yoga is borderline too much for me. I told my doctor’s nurse that it was making my side sore and she told me I should back off from it for a while. I cut down to 1 class a week. It was so nice out this weekend I wanted to go outside for a walk so bad, but I didn’t know if it would make my side hurt worse.
I hate it. And I hate myself. I know I’m supposed to be on this path to self acceptance but I just hate this so much. Will I be able to wear high heels or exercise before my next surgery? The next surgery is just looming over my head. Knowing that by the time I’ve healed from this I’ll have to undergo surgery again. It does not help me to feel optimistic. Like I can make all the progress in the world from now until June 11, only to be brought back to ground zero. And it seems like an eternity away. I feel like I’m stuck in limbo until then.
Since my last appointment with my crazy doctor I’ve been trying to think of why I’m so angry with myself, why do I feel so guilty, why do I feel like such a failure? Thinking rationally I know that hating myself won’t help anything, and I know that it wasn’t my fault. So why do I feel this way?
I did try painting a few days ago. It went well. I am by no means an artist, but it was nice to give my brain a break from myself for a few hours. I’m thinking about going to visit my grandmother this weekend so she can give me some pointers.
Here’s a picture of my painting…

It supposed to be nice this weekend, in the 70’s. I’d really like to get up to the lake to take my kayak out. It would be good to get away for a couple of days.
I saw the first cardinal of the season on one of my feeders this weekend. It was nice.