While reading "babyproofing your marriage," I ran across an interesting statistic: 21% of couples do not agree on the number of children to have. 47% only think they agree (I may have that one slightly off as I'm doing this from memory). The woman usually gets the swing vote much to the dissatisfaction of the man. Couples actually bargain over having another kid trading things like weekly sex and chores. (Really? W.T.F. It's a child not a stock certificate!)
I know I've changed my mind several times over the years about how many munchkins I wanted and we have spent so much time and effort to get THIS ONE that we haven't really talked about overall family goals. We've talked abotu having another in two years and DH has only half joked about getting me knocked up immediately but nothing really past that.
So as we lay in bed reading, I casually turn to him and ask "so how many kids do you want?" Having been with the man for 6 years i was expecting a definitive TWO. he managed to surprise me with "as many as we can have." Okay. Taking into age and fertility? "2 or 3 is probably what we'll be able to do."
Just for shits and giggles, what if age weren't a factor? "As many as we could have which would still probably only be 2 or 3 because of affordability but if we could, I'd have more." (when did we become quiverfulls?)
Perfect answer though. I want two with an option of a third (assuming single births). I can't imagine having more so I think its safe to say my husband and I are in the statistical category of being in agreement. God how I love that man.
The fact that we can even have this conversation so casually feeling secure in our success of it is a wonder and blessing in itself. A year ago, I couldn'nt imagine planning our future children out with so much assurance but I'm finally feeling the peace and security of knowing I'm a mom and can plan to be a mom in the future.
I finally feel secure that I can give my husband his dreams (okay, not the duggar household, he can forget that!) without doubt.
After so many years of fear, this casual conversation with my soulmate can not pass without recognition. I can not take for granted the amazing gift I've been given to experience such peace and normalcy in a simple thing. A moment of discussing our future children with an assurance and peace of dreams that will happen.
I hope everyone has that moment and recognizeds it. Holds it in their hearts.
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Monday, March 14, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Looking Back ...Looking Forward...Looking Beyond Myself
It's Happening Too Fast. Everything. It's just whizzing by like a speeding Amtrak Train and I can't slow it down. This past week has been crazy. Monday after the babyshower I woke feeling puny. Puny enough to stay home from work and sleep most of the day. Monday Afternoon was my first NonStress Test which stressed ME out after waiting in the waiting room for over an hour watching people come and go. (yea, they forgot about me).
Tuesday I found out my Uncle (and neighbor) died during the night. It hit me hard. He was like a grandfather to me, this giant presence always in my life. I spent the next few days in a haze of trying to finish up Thank You notes from the Shower, Dr's appointments, work during the day, and spending every night with my family next door at my cousins, taking food over, sharing stories and tears.
Thursday afternoon, at the second NonStress Test I had a melt down. For twenty minutes two different nurses could not pick up the heartbeat. Even though I had felt him move on the way there, I lost it. The stress came crashing in and I panicked. Everything was fine though. He was in a wierd position and the machine was having trouble keeping the heartbeat but once he started moving his test came back perfect. They left me hooked up longer because of that though and so I was stiff and uncomfortable by the time I was done. I rushed off to the Viewing Service at the funeral home and stayed till the very end spending time among my family.
Friday was one of the hardest days in a long long time. I had the day off work since the funeral was at 2 so I spent the morning running errands: hem tape for DH's suit pants, dress shoes for him (as this was the first time EVER my husband donned a suit. He didn't even wear one at our wedding!) the post office to mail out TY notes. I hemmed DH's pants and tried to clean the house to keep myself busy but as usual I overdid it. By the time the funeral rolled around I could barely stand but I made it through. It was one of the largest I have seen in a very long time and I cried my way through it. Silent tears streaming down my face, embracing my loved ones.
Nothing can prepare you for seeing your father cry though. My dad is such a strong man and I've seen him tear up but a few times but when he openly stood there staring at his brother's casket and loudly weeping, no one could take it. My sister, mother and I closed ranks and surrounded him and openly cried for him, with him and for the rest. Nothing prepares you for your family growing old. We have buried two uncles within the past three months. My father is the only brother left among his siblings. Two of my aunts are sick and on the other side of the family the numbers are dwindling. I wouldn't be surprised if before this year is over we are burying four more.
How do you make it through such upheavals of emotions in such short time periods? Elation and joy over family coming together to welcome my baby boy to sadness and grief a few days later over losing one of our own? Not to mention the stress in between with the Dr's etc.
Needless to say, I have not touched my blogs in a week or more. It's just been too much. I didn't know what to say, how to form the words. I missed my weekly update but I just couldn't bring myself to post it amidst everything going on.
And now we have return to normal, but I feel like I've forever been changed. My aloof self that was happy in my own little world with my husband and baby and dogs is gone. I'm clinging to my expanded family and I want Matthew to know them. To have those memories of cousins and crazy adventures and not just at funerals and reunions every other year. I want him to know vacations and holidays and all the frustration of leaving right on top of your family, the good, the bad and the irritating. I want him to be part of this craziness and tell stories to his children of yesteryear and days gone by.
Yesterday morning my parents met me at Babies R Us with an old car seat and highchair that they had tried to donate to Goodwill. We traded them in at the "Trade In Event" and even though Mom and Dad had just bought us our Pack N Play the weekend before for the shower, they shelled out the money for one of our carseats and a few small items. I took full advantage of the sale and coupons to pick up the other carseat, the baby tub set, hooded towels, several outfits and a boppy.
So even though the night before we had just celebrated the life and passing of family, the next morning we still looked to the future and prepared for Matthew. We cried for one and cooed over the cuteness of baby things and the circle continued. This morning I went to church, a church that my grandmother helped start and that my family still attends and I was welcomed with open arms by my aunts and the congregation and they spoke of my Uncle and his passing with fondness and admiration and I cried again. One life that has touched so many in his way, and I hope and pray that I can do the same and raise this precious little boy to make such an impact on his family and community.
I hope, I find the strength and the way to keep this generation tied so closely together and loving and supporting each other the way the generation before me did. We have a lot of stories to create, a lot of life to live to come anywhere close, but I've seen how important it is, and Matthew has led me to see the worth in trying.
Tuesday I found out my Uncle (and neighbor) died during the night. It hit me hard. He was like a grandfather to me, this giant presence always in my life. I spent the next few days in a haze of trying to finish up Thank You notes from the Shower, Dr's appointments, work during the day, and spending every night with my family next door at my cousins, taking food over, sharing stories and tears.
Thursday afternoon, at the second NonStress Test I had a melt down. For twenty minutes two different nurses could not pick up the heartbeat. Even though I had felt him move on the way there, I lost it. The stress came crashing in and I panicked. Everything was fine though. He was in a wierd position and the machine was having trouble keeping the heartbeat but once he started moving his test came back perfect. They left me hooked up longer because of that though and so I was stiff and uncomfortable by the time I was done. I rushed off to the Viewing Service at the funeral home and stayed till the very end spending time among my family.
Friday was one of the hardest days in a long long time. I had the day off work since the funeral was at 2 so I spent the morning running errands: hem tape for DH's suit pants, dress shoes for him (as this was the first time EVER my husband donned a suit. He didn't even wear one at our wedding!) the post office to mail out TY notes. I hemmed DH's pants and tried to clean the house to keep myself busy but as usual I overdid it. By the time the funeral rolled around I could barely stand but I made it through. It was one of the largest I have seen in a very long time and I cried my way through it. Silent tears streaming down my face, embracing my loved ones.
Nothing can prepare you for seeing your father cry though. My dad is such a strong man and I've seen him tear up but a few times but when he openly stood there staring at his brother's casket and loudly weeping, no one could take it. My sister, mother and I closed ranks and surrounded him and openly cried for him, with him and for the rest. Nothing prepares you for your family growing old. We have buried two uncles within the past three months. My father is the only brother left among his siblings. Two of my aunts are sick and on the other side of the family the numbers are dwindling. I wouldn't be surprised if before this year is over we are burying four more.
How do you make it through such upheavals of emotions in such short time periods? Elation and joy over family coming together to welcome my baby boy to sadness and grief a few days later over losing one of our own? Not to mention the stress in between with the Dr's etc.
Needless to say, I have not touched my blogs in a week or more. It's just been too much. I didn't know what to say, how to form the words. I missed my weekly update but I just couldn't bring myself to post it amidst everything going on.
And now we have return to normal, but I feel like I've forever been changed. My aloof self that was happy in my own little world with my husband and baby and dogs is gone. I'm clinging to my expanded family and I want Matthew to know them. To have those memories of cousins and crazy adventures and not just at funerals and reunions every other year. I want him to know vacations and holidays and all the frustration of leaving right on top of your family, the good, the bad and the irritating. I want him to be part of this craziness and tell stories to his children of yesteryear and days gone by.
Yesterday morning my parents met me at Babies R Us with an old car seat and highchair that they had tried to donate to Goodwill. We traded them in at the "Trade In Event" and even though Mom and Dad had just bought us our Pack N Play the weekend before for the shower, they shelled out the money for one of our carseats and a few small items. I took full advantage of the sale and coupons to pick up the other carseat, the baby tub set, hooded towels, several outfits and a boppy.
So even though the night before we had just celebrated the life and passing of family, the next morning we still looked to the future and prepared for Matthew. We cried for one and cooed over the cuteness of baby things and the circle continued. This morning I went to church, a church that my grandmother helped start and that my family still attends and I was welcomed with open arms by my aunts and the congregation and they spoke of my Uncle and his passing with fondness and admiration and I cried again. One life that has touched so many in his way, and I hope and pray that I can do the same and raise this precious little boy to make such an impact on his family and community.
I hope, I find the strength and the way to keep this generation tied so closely together and loving and supporting each other the way the generation before me did. We have a lot of stories to create, a lot of life to live to come anywhere close, but I've seen how important it is, and Matthew has led me to see the worth in trying.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Saint Renee BabyFoot Necklace Giveaway
2010 was a very hard year in many ways. 2009 was harder. I entered 2010 a very bitter person in an emotionally hard place and then experienced some very scary physical issues as well. If you are new here and just dropping by, welcome. A little about me: I have been TTC with PCOS for almost 4 years (February will be 4 years). In 2009 we succeeded with the help of Clomid and Metformin and Charting with a dash of Preconceive thrown in only to lose our babe at the end of the First Tri. I am an IF warrior and Miscarriage Survivor.
Early this year, in one of my darkest moments, I was visited by a Saint. Okay, she's really my cousin (and when we were teenagers I would be hard pressed to say she was anywhere close to a Saint *wink*). My sweet cousin knows exactly what I've been through having survived all of the above herself. She has since adopted two beautiful boys and is currently fostering another little boy and a girl. Bless her sweet soul she has FOUR under FOUR in her house. A Saint I tell you.
She brought me a necklace that she makes for those who are struggling with Infertility and/or Loss. A simple necklace made from Oyster Shells and Baby Foot shells(thin delicate shells with a baby's foot imprint in the center) that she finds on long walks on the NC Coast with her sons. She assembles them and delivers them to those in need to wear for hope and promise and remembrance. The gift touched me greatly and I have treasured this necklace this year, keeping it around my neck and remembering her words, her hugs and her courage.
She has been kind enough to make one for you. To share with others a gift that has helped so many close by. I think now is the perfect time to do this giveaway. At the end of the year, when it can be hard to face another year struggling with IF and Loss but holding out that hope for something better to come your way. I was there last year and this year I have the joy of looking forward to meeting my son and spending the rest of the year with him. I hope the new year brings good things to all of you.
So let's keep this simple. Just leave me a comment for an entry. If you would like an extra entry feel free to follow thgardengourmet (notice it is just th not the)on twitter and leave a comment with your twitter name. I will use a random picker to pick the winner and announce it with a request for your email both here and on twitter this coming weekend. I hope you (or someone you know that you give it to) will find great promise, strength and hope in this necklace. (Your choice of the grey or the black). If you do not win, but would like to order one, please let me know and I will be happy to put you in contact with "Saint' Renee.
I am wishing you and yours a New Year full of Hope and Promise and may all your dreams be realized in 2011.
All my Love,
Krista
Early this year, in one of my darkest moments, I was visited by a Saint. Okay, she's really my cousin (and when we were teenagers I would be hard pressed to say she was anywhere close to a Saint *wink*). My sweet cousin knows exactly what I've been through having survived all of the above herself. She has since adopted two beautiful boys and is currently fostering another little boy and a girl. Bless her sweet soul she has FOUR under FOUR in her house. A Saint I tell you.
She brought me a necklace that she makes for those who are struggling with Infertility and/or Loss. A simple necklace made from Oyster Shells and Baby Foot shells(thin delicate shells with a baby's foot imprint in the center) that she finds on long walks on the NC Coast with her sons. She assembles them and delivers them to those in need to wear for hope and promise and remembrance. The gift touched me greatly and I have treasured this necklace this year, keeping it around my neck and remembering her words, her hugs and her courage.
She has been kind enough to make one for you. To share with others a gift that has helped so many close by. I think now is the perfect time to do this giveaway. At the end of the year, when it can be hard to face another year struggling with IF and Loss but holding out that hope for something better to come your way. I was there last year and this year I have the joy of looking forward to meeting my son and spending the rest of the year with him. I hope the new year brings good things to all of you.
So let's keep this simple. Just leave me a comment for an entry. If you would like an extra entry feel free to follow thgardengourmet (notice it is just th not the)on twitter and leave a comment with your twitter name. I will use a random picker to pick the winner and announce it with a request for your email both here and on twitter this coming weekend. I hope you (or someone you know that you give it to) will find great promise, strength and hope in this necklace. (Your choice of the grey or the black). If you do not win, but would like to order one, please let me know and I will be happy to put you in contact with "Saint' Renee.
I am wishing you and yours a New Year full of Hope and Promise and may all your dreams be realized in 2011.
All my Love,
Krista
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Blogger Luncheon
Last Thursday, I did something very special. I met up with a long time Blogger Pal Jeanna! Jeanna and I have shared a great deal in the past year. We met during our 1st Trimester's on The Bump and unfortunately both experienced loss, heart ache, and a myriad of other emotions. We have continuously followed each other's story and become friends online. We finally met face to face and I foresee a long friendship in our future including our boys playing together. That's the best part of this fairytale: we are pregnant together AGAIN with healthy baby boy's five weeks a part.
I count myself and my son lucky to be included in such company for Jeanna truly is a sweet soul through and through. I'm so happy to be a party of her story and she a part of mine and I can't wait to meet up with her again!
I count myself and my son lucky to be included in such company for Jeanna truly is a sweet soul through and through. I'm so happy to be a party of her story and she a part of mine and I can't wait to meet up with her again!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Happy Anniversary to Us.
Yesterday was our Anniversary.
FOUR YEARS of marriage. Six years together. It’s almost hard to believe that I’ve been with him that long and at the same time it still feels new and exciting sometimes, like we’ve just moved in and are still newly weds.
Our life has changed quite a bit for this year though. Last year at this time we were suffering the physical and emotional effects of the miscarriage, clinging together, blocking out the world.
This year, we are celebrating my expanding waist line, struggling with exhaustion of his hectic schedule being in school and working full time, trying to get through and live life. We are doing our Annual Halloween Party this year that we cancelled last year. DH has been sick and exhausted, I’ve had the severe back pain this week etc.
So on our actual anniversary, we spend a giftless quiet night laying together on our sofa watching Halloween Sitcoms and eating a quick easy dinner of beef and cheese burritos (homemade of course) and Halloween mini chocolates.
It was quiet and humble and sweet. As much as I’m looking forward to cooking the party foods with my sister’s help tonight, and having people come and enjoy a fire, food and fun tomorrow, DH and I are in agreement that we are looking forward to a quiet relaxing Sunday doing NOTHING.
A day together, watching DVR’d tv shows and movies, munching on leftovers and candy in our pajamas.
The older we get, the crazier our life gets, the more we appreciate those rare days when we don’t have to think about yard work, house chores, budgets, commitments and errands. We get to cuddle, veg and look forward to getting through one more week of voting, chiro appts, and daily life before the BIG Ultra Sound. It’s SO CLOSE!
Through everything we’ve been through in the past 4 years: home, job layoffs, pay cuts, IF, miscarriage etc. I can honestly say that our relationship has stayed strong and grown. We are solid. We are still in love and looking forward to our family with our whole hearts. I still look forward to seeing him at the end of each day, a kiss on the top of my head still makes my knees week, he still makes me laugh, he’s still the man I want to spend the rest of my life with and grow old with. He’s still the man I want to present HLB to, and say “Look at what we did. Look at the perfection our love created.”
FOUR YEARS of marriage. Six years together. It’s almost hard to believe that I’ve been with him that long and at the same time it still feels new and exciting sometimes, like we’ve just moved in and are still newly weds.
Our life has changed quite a bit for this year though. Last year at this time we were suffering the physical and emotional effects of the miscarriage, clinging together, blocking out the world.
This year, we are celebrating my expanding waist line, struggling with exhaustion of his hectic schedule being in school and working full time, trying to get through and live life. We are doing our Annual Halloween Party this year that we cancelled last year. DH has been sick and exhausted, I’ve had the severe back pain this week etc.
So on our actual anniversary, we spend a giftless quiet night laying together on our sofa watching Halloween Sitcoms and eating a quick easy dinner of beef and cheese burritos (homemade of course) and Halloween mini chocolates.
It was quiet and humble and sweet. As much as I’m looking forward to cooking the party foods with my sister’s help tonight, and having people come and enjoy a fire, food and fun tomorrow, DH and I are in agreement that we are looking forward to a quiet relaxing Sunday doing NOTHING.
A day together, watching DVR’d tv shows and movies, munching on leftovers and candy in our pajamas.
The older we get, the crazier our life gets, the more we appreciate those rare days when we don’t have to think about yard work, house chores, budgets, commitments and errands. We get to cuddle, veg and look forward to getting through one more week of voting, chiro appts, and daily life before the BIG Ultra Sound. It’s SO CLOSE!
Through everything we’ve been through in the past 4 years: home, job layoffs, pay cuts, IF, miscarriage etc. I can honestly say that our relationship has stayed strong and grown. We are solid. We are still in love and looking forward to our family with our whole hearts. I still look forward to seeing him at the end of each day, a kiss on the top of my head still makes my knees week, he still makes me laugh, he’s still the man I want to spend the rest of my life with and grow old with. He’s still the man I want to present HLB to, and say “Look at what we did. Look at the perfection our love created.”
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Friendships in my Life
It’s hard letting friends pull away and have their space, even when they need it. I’ve had many friendships in my life and I’ve lost very few. I’m one of those rare people who hold onto a friendship truly through thick and thin. I have had three best friends through most of my life. After college two of those moved away and for years we continued the friendships through email, occasional visits etc. One of them drifted and now we get the occasional email once a year when we one of us is thinking of the other but for the most part we don’t really know anything about the other’s life. She’s never met my husband and I don’t know if she has children.
The other friend moved back and we recently went through a very tough patch while I was dealing with the loss of my child and she was dealing with undiagnosed Post Partum Depression. Individually we moved on but the friendship is in a weird place right now but there have been tentative feelers thrown out from each party to see if the other is receptive. We are working on it.
When I married, I made a new friend and for years she was one of my rocks as I was hers, but through a bitter separation and even odder reunification within her own marriage, the friendship between us became forced and uneasy and we both let it become a casual comment on Facebook and a hug when we run into each other thing.
I’ve developed fabulous e-ships and a network of amazing women that share both online and offline moments with me. Babyshowers, tacky sweater parties, etc. Sometimes those friendships too hit a rocky place though. It’s very difficult when you share for so long a struggle with someone, a trait that binds you even in the most horrible circumstances, and then one of you “moves on.” I’ve watched and supported many women moving on and it was one of the most difficult things I had to do. I mourned the loss of my child every day that I saw the other girls progress in their pregnancies. I cried tears of happiness and mourning when another’s child was born when our due dates had been shared. I’ve watched these precious little beings grow and everyday it’s a reminder of what Bumblebee would be doing now, the milestones he/she would have passed. Even being pregnant and looking forward to this new life, it doesn’t take the pain away from what once was my future.
Now, I’m the one who has moved on. Everyday my fear and anxiety are still very real that something is going to go wrong but at the same time I’m also able to laugh about the small things (like craving apples) and enjoy some of these little moments. Some of my girls can’t share that with me and it breaks my heart for them. I have to let them have their space and I know that’s what they need. I’ve been there so I absolutely do not want to be “too much” by checking in too often but at the same time, I’m not always sure when its been too long and I should step in and say “hey, haven’t heard from you” or “you’ve been quiet lately.”
It’s such a fine line to walk between caring and sensitive to being a reminder of what they want. I know that they need their space and my condition can be difficult for them sometimes. Because I’ve been there, and I truly understand what they are going through both on the infertility front and the being left behind front, it plagues me that I can’t BE more support. If I could fix it for you all I would. I love you and empathize with you that much and I am continuing to hold a place on my friends list for you for when you “catch up” because I believe that you all will. Even to those e-friends who aren’t as close or are going through other trials in their life right now and have drifted for the moment, I’m always here to listen, to support and to love you. Whether it is the occasional cup of coffee and chat you need from me, or hours of Facebook conversation to take your mind off of a bad day.
I’m here and I just want to remind each of you (online and off) that I’ll never forget or move on from my past. From the years of struggle and heartache. They are with me forever and no matter where I am in life, I will always understand where you are coming from and love you no matter what. I will always be an advocate for fertility education. The women I have met and bonded with over the past few years will always be a part of me no matter where my journey takes me.
The other friend moved back and we recently went through a very tough patch while I was dealing with the loss of my child and she was dealing with undiagnosed Post Partum Depression. Individually we moved on but the friendship is in a weird place right now but there have been tentative feelers thrown out from each party to see if the other is receptive. We are working on it.
When I married, I made a new friend and for years she was one of my rocks as I was hers, but through a bitter separation and even odder reunification within her own marriage, the friendship between us became forced and uneasy and we both let it become a casual comment on Facebook and a hug when we run into each other thing.
I’ve developed fabulous e-ships and a network of amazing women that share both online and offline moments with me. Babyshowers, tacky sweater parties, etc. Sometimes those friendships too hit a rocky place though. It’s very difficult when you share for so long a struggle with someone, a trait that binds you even in the most horrible circumstances, and then one of you “moves on.” I’ve watched and supported many women moving on and it was one of the most difficult things I had to do. I mourned the loss of my child every day that I saw the other girls progress in their pregnancies. I cried tears of happiness and mourning when another’s child was born when our due dates had been shared. I’ve watched these precious little beings grow and everyday it’s a reminder of what Bumblebee would be doing now, the milestones he/she would have passed. Even being pregnant and looking forward to this new life, it doesn’t take the pain away from what once was my future.
Now, I’m the one who has moved on. Everyday my fear and anxiety are still very real that something is going to go wrong but at the same time I’m also able to laugh about the small things (like craving apples) and enjoy some of these little moments. Some of my girls can’t share that with me and it breaks my heart for them. I have to let them have their space and I know that’s what they need. I’ve been there so I absolutely do not want to be “too much” by checking in too often but at the same time, I’m not always sure when its been too long and I should step in and say “hey, haven’t heard from you” or “you’ve been quiet lately.”
It’s such a fine line to walk between caring and sensitive to being a reminder of what they want. I know that they need their space and my condition can be difficult for them sometimes. Because I’ve been there, and I truly understand what they are going through both on the infertility front and the being left behind front, it plagues me that I can’t BE more support. If I could fix it for you all I would. I love you and empathize with you that much and I am continuing to hold a place on my friends list for you for when you “catch up” because I believe that you all will. Even to those e-friends who aren’t as close or are going through other trials in their life right now and have drifted for the moment, I’m always here to listen, to support and to love you. Whether it is the occasional cup of coffee and chat you need from me, or hours of Facebook conversation to take your mind off of a bad day.
I’m here and I just want to remind each of you (online and off) that I’ll never forget or move on from my past. From the years of struggle and heartache. They are with me forever and no matter where I am in life, I will always understand where you are coming from and love you no matter what. I will always be an advocate for fertility education. The women I have met and bonded with over the past few years will always be a part of me no matter where my journey takes me.
Friday, August 6, 2010
For all my girls
It’s odd. In my little internet world, BFP’s come in waves. I’ve watched for years as beloved members/friends of our group have joined the ranks of pregnancy in envy. Last year, I joined one of the babyplosions. I rejoiced, as did many people at my success. They mourned with me with my M/C. I watched them continue on with a mix of joy and sadness.
I mourned with them when they lost their’s. I rejoiced with them, when they gave birth despite the depression that I too was supposed to be hugging a bundle of joy. I watched as time went on without me. I watched in tears as my EDD passed. I watched with increasing disappointment as my conception date drew nearer. I cried when we discovered the cysts and they told me I had to stop taking the meds. I rejoiced with a healthy dose of disbelief and fear at the BFP shortly after. I’ve been living in a state of up and down, excitement and terror since then.
I’m in the midst of another BFPlosion though. Once again, I’ve joined the ranks of a group of fantastic women who are pregnant. Many for the second time and many who were pregnant with me the first time but suffered loss. It’s an odd mix this group and I’m timidly excited to be a part of it. I want nothing more to stay a part of it.
There is that little part of me that fears though. That I will once again have to watch people progress without me while I suffer another loss. There is that part of me that feels guilty that I’m still pregnant while there have already been losses in the past month. Then there is that little part of me that cries for those we’ve “left behind.”
Those sweet souls who watch me with a mixture of happiness and sadness, wishing they could join me. I have guilt yapping about Beta’s and my fear, while they try to be supportive while fighting demons of their own inside. I’ve been where they are. I’ve been the one on the sidelines while everyone was playing the winning game. I’ve watched people give birth, get pregnant, give birth again.
I’ve celebrated through tears. I’ve hidden my emotions. I’ve been bitter beyond belief and I’ve cried myself to sleep. I’ve been right with the world, and right with God but I’ve also yelled and screamed and occasionally felt I didn’t have enough left in me to fight.
I worry. I am fearful. I am apprehensive. I worry that things are different this time. I don’t have morning sickness at all like last time. I do have sharp pains in the abdomen but I don’t remember those last time. I’m scared of repeating one year ago. I’m scared I’ll do something wrong.
I’m optimistic. I’m feeling loved and complete. I’m excited beyond belief. I want to believe its different this time. I want to dance happily along consumed with myself and my joy.
But I can’t forget others. Those who stand beside me through pain and happiness. Those who no matter what the outcome for me or them will still be my friends and share my emotions as I will with them.
I am thinking of you all, with hope and prayers for all of our successes in life and family. I love you all and pray only for blessings to come your way in God’s time. I wish for you only peace in your journeys wherever they may take you. I choose to continue to walk beside you all, as your friend, no matter our outcomes.
I mourned with them when they lost their’s. I rejoiced with them, when they gave birth despite the depression that I too was supposed to be hugging a bundle of joy. I watched as time went on without me. I watched in tears as my EDD passed. I watched with increasing disappointment as my conception date drew nearer. I cried when we discovered the cysts and they told me I had to stop taking the meds. I rejoiced with a healthy dose of disbelief and fear at the BFP shortly after. I’ve been living in a state of up and down, excitement and terror since then.
I’m in the midst of another BFPlosion though. Once again, I’ve joined the ranks of a group of fantastic women who are pregnant. Many for the second time and many who were pregnant with me the first time but suffered loss. It’s an odd mix this group and I’m timidly excited to be a part of it. I want nothing more to stay a part of it.
There is that little part of me that fears though. That I will once again have to watch people progress without me while I suffer another loss. There is that part of me that feels guilty that I’m still pregnant while there have already been losses in the past month. Then there is that little part of me that cries for those we’ve “left behind.”
Those sweet souls who watch me with a mixture of happiness and sadness, wishing they could join me. I have guilt yapping about Beta’s and my fear, while they try to be supportive while fighting demons of their own inside. I’ve been where they are. I’ve been the one on the sidelines while everyone was playing the winning game. I’ve watched people give birth, get pregnant, give birth again.
I’ve celebrated through tears. I’ve hidden my emotions. I’ve been bitter beyond belief and I’ve cried myself to sleep. I’ve been right with the world, and right with God but I’ve also yelled and screamed and occasionally felt I didn’t have enough left in me to fight.
I worry. I am fearful. I am apprehensive. I worry that things are different this time. I don’t have morning sickness at all like last time. I do have sharp pains in the abdomen but I don’t remember those last time. I’m scared of repeating one year ago. I’m scared I’ll do something wrong.
I’m optimistic. I’m feeling loved and complete. I’m excited beyond belief. I want to believe its different this time. I want to dance happily along consumed with myself and my joy.
But I can’t forget others. Those who stand beside me through pain and happiness. Those who no matter what the outcome for me or them will still be my friends and share my emotions as I will with them.
I am thinking of you all, with hope and prayers for all of our successes in life and family. I love you all and pray only for blessings to come your way in God’s time. I wish for you only peace in your journeys wherever they may take you. I choose to continue to walk beside you all, as your friend, no matter our outcomes.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Inspiration from Buck
Sometimes you just have to make yourself have a good day. When things get you down, like unfair discrimination at work that you can only push so far before you lose your job and they know it and they know you can’t afford an attorney, and your back hurts and your chart is fugly and your garden is overwhelming you and you are prone to dramatic run on sentences? Yea, it demands you have a good day tomorrow. So after an excruciatingly long day at work that made me IRATE and want to punch someone, I went home and attacked the weeds in my garden till I could barely stand up straight because my back hurt so bad. We ordered dinner in so I wouldn’t have to cook and they screwed my order up so I couldn’t eat it. So I ended up having to make myself dinner anyway at 9pm. I was in tears because I was soooo frustrated.
So I took a shower, gave myself a mani/pedi and painted all my digits electric turquoise (very 90’s and very unprofessional). I did a home wax and shaped my eyebrows and cleaned up the lip and chin area (darn PCOS hair growth in unattractive places). This morning, I hot rolled my hair and put on heels and a dress. My boobs look damn good in this dress. I usually wear tennis shoes, jeans and cute shirts with my hair pulled back because I work in an automotive shop and the floors can get slick from the grease, armorall etc. They detail the vehicles in the bay that is between the women’s restroom and my little office (that we call the doghouse) so respectable shoes are a must along with the required safety glasses. Screw it. I’m in slick high heels that are barely held on my feet by two rhinestone encrusted straps. I have on a long black and white maxi dress with a little white crochet shrug and my hair is in big tussled curls half way down my back. There are tongues rolling around on the floor everywhere. Ahh the power of boobs and a body that has lost 46 pounds and has a waste and hips. I feel empowered! You want to discriminate against me because I’m a woman? Fine. I’ll use my womanhood and all the power contained there in. ::screams out:: HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW!?
Anyway, so I’m having a good day by sheer force of will. I have a very Sookie Stackhouse smile plastered on my face and I’m strutting it because I can. Sometimes you have to hold your head up and dare the world to push you down. IF is like that. Every month of disappointment comes and goes and you grieve and get disappointed and want to give up, but one day into AF you stand up straight and say, NOT THIS TIME. I shall not go peacefully into the night...and you dust yourself off and look for the next course of action. I’m not ready to give up yet. I have a few good years left to fight and I’m not going to be put out to pasture yet like an old horse.
I know a thing or two about old horses. My favorite horse in the whole world whom I loved beyond what is reasonable died in June 2006 at the age of 38. At 35 we were still on the charity show circuit and we were still winning! He was still taking the barrels with the young un’s and he was still spirited and proud. He carted my fat butt all over the mountain trails. He was old, and he LOVED the trails. He loved cutting cattle even when I didn’t want to and ended up on the ground because I wasn’t expecting him to go after a calf. (He turned right, my butt went straight). He was passed over because he was a little sway back and had sad eyes by many people, but they didn’t know what I knew. They didn’t know the happy nicker as soon as I walked through a gate. They didn’t know the full out gallop that would take your breath away when I gave him his head. They didn’t know the absolute devotion of standing alone in the middle of a field with a herd of horses that were agitated and fighting and this old man of a horse, smaller than the rest, came and stood in front of this silly human girl with teeth bared and ears pinned and hooves flying to protect her and put three young geldings in their places. They didn’t see the courage of this old horse who with 100 yellow jacket stings and suffering galloped down a mountain 10 miles in 30 minutes to get his human girl to the medics because she was dying from over 30 stings. He was sick for three months with full on vet attention at 37 years old but he did it for me. He took a 5 hour trailer trip to the coast in 2002 to ride the beach and raise money for the fireman from 9-11 and he galloped through the sand and water and held his head high. He carried the American Flag in every opening ceremony and he arched that neck and high stepped because he KNEW he was doing something important.
People forgot that he had been a champion. That he had legendary blood running through his veins. That he was loyal beyond what is expected from a horse. He taught me so much about life and courage and what it means to love and dream. HE TAUGHT ME TO LOVE the older horses that were discarded by others. To not give up on them and deal with their aging bodies like arthritis, diarrhea and rotting teeth with compassion and understanding. And from the grave, today, he has given me one more lesson. Do not give up on myself.
It’s not my time to be overlooked and pushed down. I still have a lot of life and love to give and I can still do this. My body can still do this for the love of another and the chance to live a dream. Tonight, I will walk out to the back of my land, and visit the grave of Buck (yes, that’s where Buckin came from) and let him know he is still not forgotten and is still helping me learn and live. And one day, his favorite place where he rests, will have a new hope grazing there. A small old quarter horse forgotten by others but making a new child’s dream come true and teaching the lessons of life. My child. And the legacy of Buck and Me and our amazing story will live on into another generation.
So I took a shower, gave myself a mani/pedi and painted all my digits electric turquoise (very 90’s and very unprofessional). I did a home wax and shaped my eyebrows and cleaned up the lip and chin area (darn PCOS hair growth in unattractive places). This morning, I hot rolled my hair and put on heels and a dress. My boobs look damn good in this dress. I usually wear tennis shoes, jeans and cute shirts with my hair pulled back because I work in an automotive shop and the floors can get slick from the grease, armorall etc. They detail the vehicles in the bay that is between the women’s restroom and my little office (that we call the doghouse) so respectable shoes are a must along with the required safety glasses. Screw it. I’m in slick high heels that are barely held on my feet by two rhinestone encrusted straps. I have on a long black and white maxi dress with a little white crochet shrug and my hair is in big tussled curls half way down my back. There are tongues rolling around on the floor everywhere. Ahh the power of boobs and a body that has lost 46 pounds and has a waste and hips. I feel empowered! You want to discriminate against me because I’m a woman? Fine. I’ll use my womanhood and all the power contained there in. ::screams out:: HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW!?
Anyway, so I’m having a good day by sheer force of will. I have a very Sookie Stackhouse smile plastered on my face and I’m strutting it because I can. Sometimes you have to hold your head up and dare the world to push you down. IF is like that. Every month of disappointment comes and goes and you grieve and get disappointed and want to give up, but one day into AF you stand up straight and say, NOT THIS TIME. I shall not go peacefully into the night...and you dust yourself off and look for the next course of action. I’m not ready to give up yet. I have a few good years left to fight and I’m not going to be put out to pasture yet like an old horse.
I know a thing or two about old horses. My favorite horse in the whole world whom I loved beyond what is reasonable died in June 2006 at the age of 38. At 35 we were still on the charity show circuit and we were still winning! He was still taking the barrels with the young un’s and he was still spirited and proud. He carted my fat butt all over the mountain trails. He was old, and he LOVED the trails. He loved cutting cattle even when I didn’t want to and ended up on the ground because I wasn’t expecting him to go after a calf. (He turned right, my butt went straight). He was passed over because he was a little sway back and had sad eyes by many people, but they didn’t know what I knew. They didn’t know the happy nicker as soon as I walked through a gate. They didn’t know the full out gallop that would take your breath away when I gave him his head. They didn’t know the absolute devotion of standing alone in the middle of a field with a herd of horses that were agitated and fighting and this old man of a horse, smaller than the rest, came and stood in front of this silly human girl with teeth bared and ears pinned and hooves flying to protect her and put three young geldings in their places. They didn’t see the courage of this old horse who with 100 yellow jacket stings and suffering galloped down a mountain 10 miles in 30 minutes to get his human girl to the medics because she was dying from over 30 stings. He was sick for three months with full on vet attention at 37 years old but he did it for me. He took a 5 hour trailer trip to the coast in 2002 to ride the beach and raise money for the fireman from 9-11 and he galloped through the sand and water and held his head high. He carried the American Flag in every opening ceremony and he arched that neck and high stepped because he KNEW he was doing something important.
People forgot that he had been a champion. That he had legendary blood running through his veins. That he was loyal beyond what is expected from a horse. He taught me so much about life and courage and what it means to love and dream. HE TAUGHT ME TO LOVE the older horses that were discarded by others. To not give up on them and deal with their aging bodies like arthritis, diarrhea and rotting teeth with compassion and understanding. And from the grave, today, he has given me one more lesson. Do not give up on myself.
It’s not my time to be overlooked and pushed down. I still have a lot of life and love to give and I can still do this. My body can still do this for the love of another and the chance to live a dream. Tonight, I will walk out to the back of my land, and visit the grave of Buck (yes, that’s where Buckin came from) and let him know he is still not forgotten and is still helping me learn and live. And one day, his favorite place where he rests, will have a new hope grazing there. A small old quarter horse forgotten by others but making a new child’s dream come true and teaching the lessons of life. My child. And the legacy of Buck and Me and our amazing story will live on into another generation.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Confusion
I've been debating for a week what to write here. I go back and forth on a daily basis on what I believe and what I want. What I should do versus what my heart needs to do. I'm lost in a sea of indecision. I'm lost in my blog. My blog has become less entertainment and more of a whining diary of my life. I don't like that. I can flow the words like a waterfall over smooth rocks when I choose to but nothing since shortly after the miscarriage has been remotely informative, entertaining or worth reading.
Months of allergies, weightloss and pathetic diatribes. I apologize. I'm forever apologizing for something but this is not where I intended this blog to go. No matter if I struggle with IF or had a pregnancy and baby to discuss, this blog has taken a horrible turn even for me.
Yet, I have no desire to write anything more than recipes and complaints. And that tells me my life is not in a good spot. In church, the sermon was about contentment and entitlement and I began to open my eyes to how bitter I've become. How discontented I've become. Every example the preacher used, rang alarm bells in my head. Because I have become one of "those" women who say, "Why does SHE get to have a baby?" "Why does she get to have a fourth kid and I don't get one? She can't even afford it." "Why God why?" and my preacher is right. We turn it around and eventually blame God and I would be lying if I said those thoughts haven't entered my mind. My religion is a constant struggle for me because I'm trying NOT to blame God. I don't like who I have become.
My dear friend Beth has been going to church with me for the past month. We have gone Every sunday and have found a church that speaks to both of us. We struggle weekly with the message because it hits home on a deep soul level. It has awoken me to see what I have done to myself and my life over the past few years. I'm trying to find ME again. Trying to figure out what God wants from me on this journey and struggling to take each day as it comes.
I don't know where this blog will go. I want to find deeper meaning in the words that are transcribed, not pathetic little pithy posts of complaint. In my life, right now, I'm not even sure I want to continue to TTC, atleast not with medication. Everytime I turn around, something inside me is screaming to not take the Clomid and so I put it off for one more month. I think I'm going to put it off for a few months, give myself a break from the war in myself. I need to trust my instincts and they are saying, I'm no longer ready. If I were to get pregnant tomorrow, I would be ready to have a baby, but I'm not ready to go back on the meds. There is something I need to do before that. I'm not sure what, but I think it is to refind myself. To re-love myself and find strength for whatever may happen. To find my relationship with God.
I will continue with the McFatty Monday posts because the weightloss is helping me and helping my body, but I make no promises where this blog may head in the next little bit. I may find my voice again or it may sit blank between Mondays. I just don't know.
Months of allergies, weightloss and pathetic diatribes. I apologize. I'm forever apologizing for something but this is not where I intended this blog to go. No matter if I struggle with IF or had a pregnancy and baby to discuss, this blog has taken a horrible turn even for me.
Yet, I have no desire to write anything more than recipes and complaints. And that tells me my life is not in a good spot. In church, the sermon was about contentment and entitlement and I began to open my eyes to how bitter I've become. How discontented I've become. Every example the preacher used, rang alarm bells in my head. Because I have become one of "those" women who say, "Why does SHE get to have a baby?" "Why does she get to have a fourth kid and I don't get one? She can't even afford it." "Why God why?" and my preacher is right. We turn it around and eventually blame God and I would be lying if I said those thoughts haven't entered my mind. My religion is a constant struggle for me because I'm trying NOT to blame God. I don't like who I have become.
My dear friend Beth has been going to church with me for the past month. We have gone Every sunday and have found a church that speaks to both of us. We struggle weekly with the message because it hits home on a deep soul level. It has awoken me to see what I have done to myself and my life over the past few years. I'm trying to find ME again. Trying to figure out what God wants from me on this journey and struggling to take each day as it comes.
I don't know where this blog will go. I want to find deeper meaning in the words that are transcribed, not pathetic little pithy posts of complaint. In my life, right now, I'm not even sure I want to continue to TTC, atleast not with medication. Everytime I turn around, something inside me is screaming to not take the Clomid and so I put it off for one more month. I think I'm going to put it off for a few months, give myself a break from the war in myself. I need to trust my instincts and they are saying, I'm no longer ready. If I were to get pregnant tomorrow, I would be ready to have a baby, but I'm not ready to go back on the meds. There is something I need to do before that. I'm not sure what, but I think it is to refind myself. To re-love myself and find strength for whatever may happen. To find my relationship with God.
I will continue with the McFatty Monday posts because the weightloss is helping me and helping my body, but I make no promises where this blog may head in the next little bit. I may find my voice again or it may sit blank between Mondays. I just don't know.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Blessings
I can not begin to tell you how blessed I have felt lately. Not just because I have a baby on the way. That is a HUGE part of it. I have been blessed with some very good friends recently. New girls in my life who have spread so much joy and happiness and are so happy for me both IRL and online.
My girls on BOTB and my local board are unbelievable. Even the ones I do not know so well. They have brought me to tears (and I don't THINK that is the pregnancy hormones)at their rejoicing in my being pregnant. The number of blog posts alone congratulating me completely amazed me and warmed my heart.
I am blessed because this child of mine is already so loved and anticipated. Everyday brings new and wonderous blessings and love my way.
My temperature has started rising which just gives me reassurance. I'm trying NOT to temp but breaking the habit after a year is a bit hard. I did it this morning without thinking about it. It's just HABIT. I'm glad I did though. I saw that temp going up and it truly was reassurance. Not as if I needed any but now that the back pain is going away and I'm not as crampy, it was a nice lift to the spirits.
This pregnancy is definately going to be a continued lesson in patience for me. I'm anticipating the next thing already. The telling to the family, the sonogram etc. It's only three weeks away and will fly by but I can feel that anticipation building in me!
Lesson of the week: Keep plastic bags or something in the car for those moments like this morning when you are traveling down I-40 at 74mph and suddenly have the urge to puke everywhere with no exit in site.
My girls on BOTB and my local board are unbelievable. Even the ones I do not know so well. They have brought me to tears (and I don't THINK that is the pregnancy hormones)at their rejoicing in my being pregnant. The number of blog posts alone congratulating me completely amazed me and warmed my heart.
I am blessed because this child of mine is already so loved and anticipated. Everyday brings new and wonderous blessings and love my way.
My temperature has started rising which just gives me reassurance. I'm trying NOT to temp but breaking the habit after a year is a bit hard. I did it this morning without thinking about it. It's just HABIT. I'm glad I did though. I saw that temp going up and it truly was reassurance. Not as if I needed any but now that the back pain is going away and I'm not as crampy, it was a nice lift to the spirits.
This pregnancy is definately going to be a continued lesson in patience for me. I'm anticipating the next thing already. The telling to the family, the sonogram etc. It's only three weeks away and will fly by but I can feel that anticipation building in me!
Lesson of the week: Keep plastic bags or something in the car for those moments like this morning when you are traveling down I-40 at 74mph and suddenly have the urge to puke everywhere with no exit in site.
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