Finding My New Normal

Oh Great, She Brought Her Baby

2012-03-13T12:53:00.000Z

Disclaimer- This post will probably come across as very self centered. I don't usually live in that all about me place, but today I am. As a Baby Loss Mom I reserve the right to act and feel things in a very selfish way sometimes. I don't actually admit my true feelings to anyone but The Hubby and all of you, so hopefully no one in my real life knows just what a self centered bitch I can be. End of disclaimer.

As I've mentioned before, I'm an American Expat living in England. When I first moved here I joined a club for other expat women (from all over the world, not just the US). The women I have met through this club have been my lifeline and I know for sure that I wouldn't have gotten through the loss of my son without them.

Because I can never do anything half-assed, I am of course on the board of this club. Our board meets monthly to talk about what's going on and to make decisions that affect the membership. These meetings are very casual affairs held in the mornings and young children are welcome. So there are usually a few toddlers there running around while we all chat.

One of the members of the board just gave birth to her son a few weeks ago. I've written about her a few times before, most recently when I was invited to her baby shower. You can read a bit about her if you like by following this link but it's not really vital to today's story. But if you're a new reader and want a bit of background then there you go.

Having just given birth a few weeks ago I figured she would take a pass on the next few meetings. I mean, who wants to bring their newborn into a room with so many women and possibly toddlers?? Talk about a germ-a-palooza. So I figured it would be a few months before I had to endure her waltzing into the room with her brand new baby boy.

Wrong!

I found out the night before the meeting that she was coming so at least I wasn't totally surprised. But that wasn't really much time to prepare myself. I have done a good job of avoiding all newborn babies since my son died, especially baby boys. I just can't be around them because they are the physical manifestation of what I lost. My newborn son who will never grow into a toddler, or a boy, or a man. Just writing that brings tears to my eyes.

So I was hoping that she wouldn't come for a few more months, until hopefully I will have my own newborn baby. I keep thinking that once I have a real life living newborn then seeing other newborns won't hurt so much. Once I have my own newborn then seeing other newborns won't feel like a stab in the heart. Because right now, even the thought of being around a newborn baby makes me anxious, and nervous, and stressed.

I had a hard time sleeping the night before the meeting. I could feel the anxiety running rampant in my body. How was I going to handle seeing a newborn baby boy? Would I burst into tears? Would I be able to look at him? What should I say? How should I act? Would everyone in the room be able to see my discomfort and sadness? How on earth would I be able to cope?

I seriously considered not going. It's something I thought about all night and while I was getting ready the next morning. I could just not go, that way I wouldn't have to deal with the situation. Such a tempting idea,,, and yet it felt wrong. I won't be able to hide from newborn babies forever so maybe this was the time to test myself. In the end I decided to suck it up and just go.

So I get to the meeting and a few minutes later she strolls in, pushing her tiny newborn son in his buggy. My stomach dropped but I kept a smile on my face. I welcomed her and made some comment about being impressed she was out of the house and back in action so soon. I'm sure she didn't get the subtext that I was actually horrified that she was at the meeting. I don't think anyone else did either.

Of course everyone swooned over her new baby. So I figured I was off the hook because she would be so distracted with all the attention that she wouldn't notice that I was pretty much ignoring her and her baby. I figured that once the meeting got started I could focus on what we were talking about and pretty much forget that there was a newborn boy in the room.

Wrong again!

She ended up sitting right next to me. A situation I managed to wiggle out of by offering my seat to someone who had to leave early and needed to be closer to the door. I was feeling quite smug about now having a buffer sitting in between us. But alas, my smugness was short lived.

Wouldn't you know? This woman sitting between us wanted to hold the baby! Not just hold him for a few minutes, but hold him for most of the meeting. When he got hungry she also wanted to feed him. I figured he would be taken out of the room to be breastfed but his ever-so-prepared Mom had pumped a bottle for just this occasion. So now I'm sitting next to the woman who is feeding this baby, and burping him, and settling him back to sleep.

I wanted to die. Or leave the room. Or burst into tears. Or just sit somewhere else. I wanted to be anywhere besides where I was.

But the meeting was underway and I was stuck. So I did my best to focus my attention to the topics at hand. I actively participated in the discussion,,, anything to keep my focus off the newborn baby sitting inches away from me. I am amazed at how I held it together. I didn't cry or even tear up. I don't think anyone even noticed my discomfort. I was a total fake and I think people bought it.

On the outside I was the perfect face of happiness, on the inside I was crumbling into a million little pieces. Why did she have to bring her baby? Why couldn't she just have stayed away for a few more months. Doesn't she realize that the presence of her perfect, living baby boy is like torture to me?
*See I told you I was going to a very selfish, all about me place!

Somehow I managed to get through it. I'd like to think that my son was sending me strength from above. Or maybe I'm just getting better at faking it these days. Either way, I made it to the end of the meeting without the humiliation of bursting into tears. After it was over, I treated myself with a nice lunch at a very posh and grown up restaurant and did a bit of shopping. A reward for holding it together.

So there you go. A totally selfish, all about me post. I know there are other perspectives to see this situation from, but at the moment I can only see mine. And for now, I'm OK with that.

Every Pregnant Woman Worries

2012-03-11T12:05:00.000Z

A week or so back, I wrote about my experience of entering the world of normal pregnant women. It's been a deliberate choice for me, this attempt to act like a normal pregnant woman. A part of my efforts to fully embrace this pregnancy and this baby. My way of trying not to dwell on the fear and sadness that has carried over from my loss.

As my belly grows and I'm obviously pregnant I have realized that I'm here in this world, like it or not. Even though I felt like I had chosen it and therefore had some sort of control over it, I am learning that this is in fact not the case. People see me as a normal pregnant woman because like all other Baby Loss Moms, I don't walk around wearing a sign that says, "My last baby died." **Side note, maybe this would be a good idea. Kind of like people who have those, "My other car is a Porshe,"stickers. We could have, "My other baby died,"stickers.

It's a tricky path to navigate, this pregnancy after loss thing. I've tried to be honest when people ask how I'm doing. Mostly I tell people that I'm super excited and super scared as well. As I tell this to more and more people (most of who know my history) I'm noticing a trend in response. I keep getting told that what I'm feeling is normal because every pregnant woman worries.

Really? My fear of losing another baby is normal because every woman worries about this?

I'm not trying to say that pregnant women don't worry about complications. I didn't worry at all after my 20 week scan but in hindsight that was just plain stupid. I am not trying to negate the fact that no pregnant woman wants her baby to die and the thought of anything going wrong would fill them with fear. But is my fear and worry really exactly like theirs?

Their fear is all in the abstract. What would happen if something went wrong? How would I cope? What would I do? Most people when they hear of a stillbirth would say that they don't know how they could get through it. They are scared, yes... but what they are scared of is unknown in practice.

For me, losing a child and living through stillbirth and it's aftermath is not the unknown. It is the harsh reality of my experience. I do know what would happen if something went wrong. I do know how I would cope. I do know what I would do. I know exactly how it all feels, and looks, and smells.

My fear is not that it will happen to me, but that it will happen to me again.

So in my opinion, my fear while similar to that of other normal pregnant women, is not the same at all. It isn't normal to be afraid of having another loss, it's sad and tragic. Because most people don't have any loss. Yes they are afraid of loss, but it never touches them in a real way.

My fear (and that of all BLM's) is raw. I have a gaping wound that has barely begun to heal, and I'm scared of ripping it back open again. To fall back into the fog of grief and despair. A fog that I'm still working to find my way out of. It's a fear that I try desperately to suppress, so that it doesn't take me over.

I am sure that these women are just trying to be helpful, to make me feel a bit less neurotic. But it's really not the same thing, and I'm getting tired of smiling and agreeing with them when they say it.

Fat Belly

2012-03-07T16:07:00.000Z

You may think I'm referring to myself in this title, but I'm not. It's true that my belly is growing each day and there's no mistaking that I'm pregnant. But the fat belly I'm referring to belongs to my precious little Frostina.

I am getting lots of extra monitoring this time around and this week I got a special kind of ultrasound that I've not had before. In addition to checking the baby and the fluid and all that stuff, this ultrasound was also to look at the placenta. My doctor checked the structure and blood flow. He not only looked at the blood flow, but he also listened to it. To me it just sounded like a bunch of swooshing, but he said it was good so that's all that matters.

If only they had done a scan like this with my son. Then perhaps they would have detected that something was wrong. That his placenta was under attack by some kind of virus or infection. Would early detection have saved him? There's no way to know for sure. But it makes me sad to think that the technology is available but isn't considered "standard" during all pregnancies. I get to have this because of my history, and for that I'm grateful, but I do wish it was done for everyone.

Before he checked my placenta, my doctor did all the normal measurements on Frostina. Unlike my son who always measured a bit small (in hindsight that fact makes me sooooo sad), she is right on target in all areas. All areas except for one that is. I was informed that she has a large round belly. Still within normal limits so nothing to worry about I was told. But big compared to the rest of her. My doctor says it's a good sign that she's getting plenty of nutrients.

She has a cute fat belly! A notion that makes me smile each time I think about it. When you think about it, babies are pretty much the only people who can have a fat belly and people think it's cute.

I just can't wait to meet her. I'm praying that things continue to go well with this pregnancy because I'm already totally in love with her.

Such A Simple Question

2012-03-03T10:24:00.000Z

Is this your first?

It's such a simple question isn't it? An innocent question. A polite question. The kind of question that is asked all the time. It's part of the "getting to know you" routine. You meet a pregnant woman and you ask her if this is her first baby. No harm in that,,,, right?

This simple question is causing me much anxiety right now. Even though I knew it would happen as my belly grows, I'm still never prepared to answer it. So I get nervous and uncomfortable and never know what to say.

What is the right way to answer this question when your first baby died at 36 weeks?

Do you say no and spill your terrible life story to a complete stranger? Do you become that woman who brings up the sad subject of dead babies at fun social events? Do you become the woman who makes a perfectly nice person who was just trying to be polite feel completely and totally uncomfortable? Or do you lie and smile and say yes, sparing everyone else your discomfort?

If I'm asked by a stranger, like at a shop or in a taxi, I always say yes. I figure the person who is asking is just being polite and really doesn't care about the answer. Plus, they're not entitled to know anything personal about me. I liken it to saying "fine" when a stranger asks how I'm doing. I never feel guilty about this answer,,, this one is easy.

If I'm asked by someone who wants to know for professional reasons, like a doctor or dentist or yoga instructor, I usually say, "Well this isn't my first pregnancy." That lets them know there is history that they can either ask further about if they need to, or let it go if they don't feel they need any further info. This answer has worked out very well for me. It's the answer I figured I'd use in social settings as well,, the truth without too much detail.

A few nights ago I went to a social gathering. There were quite a few women who I had never met before, but who I will most likely see again. I'm visibly pregnant these days so of course my pregnancy was a big topic of conversation. I was asked several times if this was my first and each time I said yes. I cringed inside after answering this way. What happened to my plan to tell people this wasn't my first pregnancy? What happened to my perfect answer? Why couldn't I use it?

I left the event feeling guilty. As if I had somehow forsaken my son by not mentioning him. Maybe guilt isn't the right word. Maybe conflicted is a better way to describe how I felt. I don't know,,, I just didn't feel right about the way I handled the situation.

I've never been the kind of person to spill my guts and family secrets when I first meet someone. I have never been the kind of person who goes to a fun social event and then goes on and on about my problems. I attend social events to chat and gossip and have fun. In my early grief, these events were a way to forget about my horrible life if only for a few hours. So it's not at all out of character that I wouldn't mention something sad at an event that is supposed to be fun.

But for some reason, this is really getting to me. I feel like I lied to these women just to protect them from feeling uncomfortable. So that they could get to know the fun, happy me before I spring my tragedy on them. So I won't be seen as the woman who's baby died before I'm seen as anything else. So that they wouldn't all scurry away and be afraid to ask me any more questions just in case I had more terrible stories to tell.

Is that what it is?? Am I being selfish? Or am I just trying not to spoil a fun event with my sad story?

I don't understand why this question still catches my by surprise and takes my breath away. I should expect it by now. I should be more prepared.

After all, it's such a simple question.

Shutting Down My Facebook Page

2012-03-01T13:48:00.000Z

I am suffering from social media overload. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and I think it's time that something has to give. As an anonymous blogger I live in two worlds. One world where I use my real life name and connect with my real life friends. And another world where I use the pseudonym My New Normal and I connect with my virtual friends. There is almost no overlap between these two worlds.

Both worlds are equally as real to me and equally as important. I often think that without this blog and the connections I've made here, I would never have been able to get through the loss of my son. Grief isn't really something we talk about in polite society and having this space to get it all out and make connections has been a vital lifeline.

I opened up a twitter account and a facebook page for this blog as a way to make even more connections. In the beginning it was all very exciting. But as time goes on it's feeling more and more like a burden. I've got my real life social media networks to manage, like facebook and email. Then I've got this blog and it's social media networks to manage as well. It's all getting to be too much.

So after much deliberation I've decided to shut down Finding My New Normal's facebook page. To be honest, I just don't see the value in having a facebook page for this blog. With twitter, I find I connect with lots of other women in similar situations as I am and have found some great blogs to read. I've made connections that are very valuable. I also have found that having a twitter page brings me more readers to this blog.

With the facebook page I've not had the same experience. I set things up so that posts I write here will automatically post over there. However, I noticed that this doesn't always happen. Sometimes a long time goes by with no posts, and then they all dump on the same day. Something that I know would be annoying to anyone following on facebook. I've also not noticed nearly as much interaction as I get here or on twitter. And I get almost no traffic coming from facebook to this page.

Perhaps I've been doing it wrong, but it just seems like a whole lot of extra time for not very much return. I'll wait about a week before pulling the plug to give people time to find me here and on twitter, but then that's it.

How about you? Do you have a facebook page or twitter page for your blog? If so, do you find value in them? Have you shut down any social network pages associated with your blog before? If so, why did you do it?

Hope Creeps In

2012-02-27T17:04:00.000Z

This pregnancy has not been easy on me emotionally. I suppose all pregnancies after a loss are difficult and what I'm experiencing is normal. That is if your definition of normal is rotating between fear, panic, dread, grief, sadness, nervousness, paranoia, wistfulness, longing, fixating, and terror. Since I'm always on the hunt for my new normal here, I'd say this probably isn't the best definition available. But alas, sometimes reality rules.

For the past 22 weeks I've been scared. Worried that something will go wrong like it did last time. Worried that I won't be able to handle it again. Worried that I won't be able to cope with another loss. Wondering if I was a complete crazy person to put myself in this vulnerable place again.

As time has gone on something odd has happened. Every now and then I experience this strange sensation. At first I didn't even notice it was there. It would flit in and out of my consciousness. Blink and you'd miss it.

What was this strange sensation? It seemed foreign and yet somehow familiar. Tiny butterflies in my stomach. A small smile that would creep onto my face from time to time. A skip in my step. A song in my heart. My mind starting to think ahead,,,, making plans. What was this strange sensation?

Suddenly it hit me. I knew exactly what this strange emotion was.

It was hope.

Somehow amongst all the fear and the worry and the stress of this new pregnancy, hope had crept in. I didn't recognize it at first because I was so preoccupied with all my negative thoughts. Even if I did have awareness of it, I pushed it right back where it came from.

But this hope was stubborn. Instead of allowing itself to be pushed away, it pushed back. It came more often, screaming my name each time. "I'm back," it would shout. "Remember me? Still I pushed it back.

There is no room for hope when you're living each day in fear. Hope is the enemy. Hope makes you vulnerable to being hurt again. Protecting yourself from hope will protect you from pain,,,,, right?

But hope wouldn't give up. It came even more often, and it stayed for longer periods of time. Enough time for me to start going to prenatal yoga again. Enough time for me to start looking at baby girl nursery items on the internet. Enough time for me to buy tickets to go to the Baby Show here in London. Enough time for me to attend the Baby Show and actually enjoy myself!

I kid you not,,, I went to the Baby Show and enjoyed myself.

I'm very good at denial though and so even though hope was there, I refused to acknowledge it's existence. I got home from the Baby Show and couldn't stop talking about it to The Hubby. I didn't buy anything of course, but I had done all sorts of "research" on the latest baby buggy and nursery furniture. I was babbling on about this and that when I realized that The Hubby was smiling at me.

"What are you smiling at??" I asked him. Of course he said he wasn't smiling at anything, which made me continue to question until he finally spilled. He said it was just nice to see me happy and excited again. And that's when it hit me. Hope had crept back into my life. Perhaps not blind hope, more like guarded hope. But hope nonetheless.

This is not to say that I'm over the fear. I'm most definitely still feeling fear, panic, dread, grief, sadness, nervousness, paranoia, wistfulness, longing, fixating, and terror. It's just that now it's sprinkled with a little hope.

Entering The World Of Normal Pregnant Women

2012-02-23T09:43:00.000Z

I'm well into my second trimester and have been feeling well. All the nausea is gone and the bouts of exhaustion only come ever so often. So I figured it was time to drag my lazy self to pregnancy yoga. It's a big step for me because it's one of the things that I really enjoyed during my last pregnancy. The Hubby is thrilled that I'm doing yoga and also having sessions with my personal trainer again. He's always encouraging me to embrace this pregnancy and sees this as a step in the right direction.

By taking this step I'm not only joining the world of "normal" pregnant women, but I'm also acknowledging that this pregnancy is actually moving forward. I've been in denial for so long about being pregnant, but with my growing bump and all the movement Frostina has been doing lately denial really isn't an option anymore.

The thing about entering the world of normal pregnant women is the fact that I have a different history and viewpoint than most of them. This of course isn't obvious to the casual observer. I'm sure that if you peeked into the room during class you would simply see a group of pregnant women doing yoga. As crazy as I may feel sometimes, from the outside I look like just another pregnant woman. As a result, other pregnant women talk to me like I'm one of them.

This is fine for the most part, but there are times when I'm reminded that my story is not like most. At the beginning of each class the instructor asks each of us our name, how far along we are, and if we are having any aches or pains she needs to know about. My first time there she also asked me if this was my first baby.

Ugh, that innocent question that stabs all baby loss mom's in the heart.

Of course this question was asked in front of all the other pregnant students. My answer, "Well this isn't my first pregnancy." She seemed to get the message and moved right on. Phew!

Then there was last week's class. There was a new woman who announced that she was 8 weeks pregnant. Eight weeks pregnant and already attending pregnancy yoga?? At 8 weeks I was pretty much couch bound fighting waves of nausea and taking lots of naps. It turns out she is a yoga instructor as well and works at the studio. She said she was worried about outing herself but really wanted to get started doing pregnancy yoga. The instructor nodded and said some encouraging words. Everyone in the class smiled and nodded.

Inside my head I was screaming, "You're only 8 weeks and you're already so sure of this pregnancy that you've enrolled in a course of pregnancy yoga classes? Do you have any idea how risky this all is? Not only are you being smug (I'm judgemental in my head) about things but you're also at your place of work. So if things go wrong, then everyone at work will know."

She of course couldn't hear my mind screaming and proceeded to perform all the yoga moves better than the rest of us while flaunting her super slim and bump free body.

Then there's this little gem. I know a woman through my expat club who I'm attending yoga with. She's 34 weeks pregnant with her third baby. I don't know her very well yet, but I get the idea that she's not had any struggles getting or staying pregnant. The reason I think this is because she was complaining to me that she really wants her body back because for the past 5 years she's either been pregnant, breastfeeding, or taking a break between trying again. No mention of any delays or issues.

She also seemed shocked that I had to do IVF to get pregnant. It must be nice to live in a world where you are surprised that others struggle to get pregnant.

She mentioned in class that she was feeling this numbness in her inner thighs in the morning before class. She told the instructor that she felt that same numbness right before going into labor with her two sons. She asked the instructor what she thought. The instructor said that if that's a sign of labor for her than maybe she should call her midwife.

After class this woman told me that she wasn't expecting the instructor to tell her this. She had been hoping for some reassurance that it was no big deal. I asked her if she was going to call the midwife. She told me that she was going to wait until Friday (our class was on Tuesday) when she had a scheduled appointment. I was shocked at her calm demeanor. I asked her if she was concerned and she told me that she was far enough along that she wasn't worried about going into labor early.

Again my head was screaming, "You're only 34 weeks! That's too early! Your daughter's lungs won't be fully developed until 37 weeks. How can you be so calm about all this? Why are you here at yoga and not at your midwives office getting checked out?"

At that moment I remembered that she lives in a different world than I do. In her world, you get pregnant and have your baby,,,, simple. Things may not go exactly to plan, but they always work out in the end. I didn't share my fear and paranoia with her because she didn't ask and I don't know her well enough to spew my unsolicited advice on her. Instead I told her to keep an eye on things and if the numbness continues or she gets worried to call her midwife.

I'm sure all will be well with her and her baby. As they do with most pregnant women. Because in the world of normal pregnant women things always go well. Perhaps not exactly to plan, but tragedy doesn't touch them. So she won't have to be worried. Oh how I wish I could go back to that world.

Wait, I Thought This Was Supposed To Reduce Our Stress?

2012-02-19T23:14:00.000Z

I thought I had the perfect solution for some of our pregnancy anxiety. Boy was I wrong!!

Last week I wrote this post about our decision to get a home Doppler so we can listen to Frostina's heartbeat when we're feeling anxious. Having lost one baby in utero, our fear of this happening again is probably a million times higher than it should be. We both figured that once this little machine came then we could at least calm our fears a bit.

It arrived mid week and The Hubby enthusiastically ripped it out of the box and got things in working order. We knew it may be difficult for us to find her heartbeat at first since neither of us knew what we were doing. So I lowered my jeans and squirted the gel on my belly. Within about a minute we could both hear that wonderful sound not unlike a galloping horse,,, it was Frostina's little heartbeat. We both smiled and hugged and were happy.

Saturday morning arrived and The Hubby said that maybe we should listen again since we hadn't heard Frostina in a few days. We were getting ready to go out for the day so I said we could do it after I'd had my shower.

Now I should mention that I've been feeling a lot more movement lately. Frostina had a particularly active session late Friday night and I had even felt her squirming around early Saturday morning. So we weren't going to listen because we were worried, just because it seemed like a fun thing to do. Call it parental bonding if you like.

So I get out of the shower and we get everything ready to listen. We squirt the gel and turn on the Doppler. I move it around, and around, and around. Nothing.

The hubby assumes I'm doing it wrong and takes over. He tries, and tries, and tries. Nothing

I start to panic. I think he does too. Neither of us wants to admit it though. So we keep trying, and we start to argue about how to do it, or where to put the wand, or if we need more gel or not.

Now logically we know that we're probably just doing it wrong. After all, this is only the second time we've tried this machine. We have heard and read all the warnings about how it can be hard to find the heartbeat on your own. We know that professionals go to actual training to do this. We know that this exact scenario is why the professionals don't recommend using a doppler at home, because it can cause unnecessary fear. But knowing this in our logical minds does not help calm the rising panic we are both feeling.

I remind The Hubby that I've been feeling her move all last night and this morning. We try some more and have mixed results. We do hear a few fleeting beats every now and then, but can't get anything consistent. We take a break to get dressed and in that time I continue to feel Frostina kicking and rolling around. I try to assure The Hubby of this but I'm not sure if he believes me or not. Not that he thinks I'm lying,,,, but we both know that I'm not the best judge of these things.

We try one more time and get the same mixed results. I finally tell him that we need to stop and try again later. That I know she's fine because I can feel her moving. That she's still tiny and is probably just in a spot where we can't hear her. He agrees and then we both sit in silence for a while. The fear in the room is palpable yet neither of us say anything. He finally agrees to get on with our day and says he trusts me to tell him if I think we need to go to the hospital. Which I don't think is necessary because I know she's fine.

We get through the day and focus on other things. I continue to feel Frostina all day and let The Hubby know each time it happens. We get home in the evening and I figure all is fine. Then he asks if I'm ok. Which is Hubby code for "I'm not ok." So I ask him if he wants me to check again. He says I can if I want to which is Hubby code for "Please will you?"

So I lay on the couch and squirt a bunch of gel on my belly. Within seconds I hear that wonderful sound not unlike a galloping horse,,, it was Frostina's little heartbeat. I didn't get it for long before she shifted position and it was gone again. But it was there long enough for both of us to feel a huge sigh of relief.

I continue to feel her moving around today. It's almost like she knows we were worried about her yesterday and she's trying to make her presence known. She's saying, "Don't believe I'm ok,,,, here's a kick for you. Didn't feel that one enough, here's another, and another." I didn't try the doppler today because I figure if I can feel her this well there's no sense repeating yesterday's drama.

The Hubby is no longer a fan of the Doppler. His actual words were a profanity laced rant but I'll try and clean it up to make them suitable for publication. He said that if this stupid machine was going to be so flipping hard to use then it wasn't worth the money we paid for it. He said that it was supposed to bring us peace, not stress. I reminded him that this was one of the reasons I hesitated in buying one in the first place.

Will we be throwing the Doppler away?? Probably not. We do appreciate the fact that it can be a useful tool when used properly. We know that we are just figuring things out and it will take practice and experience to get good at it. We know this, but that knowledge doesn't help when blind panic takes over.

Will we try using it again?? Probably, but not until she's a bit bigger and there aren't so many places in my belly where she can hide from the machine.

Will we use it "just for fun" again. No F'ing way!

My Rant Against Word Verification Pop Ups

2012-02-17T10:47:00.000Z

I never write about blogging specifically or any of the technical stuff that goes along with it. I'm not a computer expert or an online social media guru. I have no idea about all the stats and SEO's and all that other stuff that some bloggers are interested in. I don't blog to promote a business or to make money. I don't do sponsored posts or giveaways. I simply blog to connect with other people.

I write in this space because I desperately need an outlet for my feelings. I read other people's blogs because I love reading other people's stories. To know I'm not alone in my various struggles is a wonderful feeling. Not because I want other people to have to suffer like I have, but because I know there are other people who have been there and understand what it's like. I have found a wonderful community of people here in the virtual community of the internet. You have been my lifeline, helping me get through some of the worst moments of my life. I'm not sure I'd be as ok as I am these days without you.

For me, commenting is a huge part of the experience. I have felt such love and support from the comments I receive here. I admit I'm not the best commenter, but I do try my best to offer the same kind of support that you all have given to me.

A few days ago I noticed that blogger has changed their captcha word verification system. If you don't know what that is, the word verification is those funny word-things that pop up when you leave a comment on some people's blogs. They are supposed to prove you aren't a robot or a spammer.

They have always been tricky to do, but the new change has made them almost impossible. It now seems there are TWO words to decipher and re-type before you can leave your comment instead of just one.

I don't know why, but I'm having a terrible time reading the new words and often have to try again just to make my comment. I am finding this terribly frustrating and it's really putting me off commenting on your blogs. Am I alone in this?? It makes me feel like screaming into a pillow every time I see one of those things pop up.

So I have a small request. Can you please turn this terrible word verification off? I did it a long time ago and I hardly ever get a spam comment. I think I've gotten 2 or 3 since I started my blog and they are very easy to delete. It's an easy setting to turn on and off so it shouldn't be too much trouble. Not being a computer expert I'm not here to offer a tutorial on how to do it. But considering I somehow managed to figure it out, I know you will too.

So please,,,, if you will,,,,, turn it off??

Thank you.

Frosty?? Or Frostina??

2012-02-15T20:52:00.000Z

Today we had our 20 week anomaly scan. To say I was nervous about it is probably the understatement of the year. When I get nervous I get a bit distracted and ditzy. I was so nervous that I started doing stupid things around the house. Like trying to go to sleep with my contact lenses in and putting my yoga pants on backwards. I didn't notice about the yoga pants until hours later when I sat down to pee and noticed the tag was in the front,,, duh!

I just don't look at scans the same way I did last pregnancy. In my naive, happy go lucky mind the biggest worry was if I would get a cute scan photo to share with my family. It never occurred to me that anything could or would go wrong. I was really that sure that I was "all clear" and was taking my son home with me. Oh how things have changed this time around.

So I was hugely relieved to learn that all is well with our little Frosty. My doctor (who does all his own scans) took a long time checking everything out. Everything looks great and baby is measuring well in all categories. I was so relieved to hear that heartbeat that I started crying. Why does this all have to be so scary this time??

Anyway, he asked us if we wanted to know the sex and of course our answer was YES! We have been dying to know if we've got a little Frosty or a little Frostina in there. And of course I have to share this great news with all of you as well. So here goes.

That's me at 20 weeks with a rather large bump if I do say so myself. I sent this photo to my family back home. The only difference being that I included my head in the one I sent to them. : )

That's right people, we're having a girl. The Hubby and I both started crying when we heard the news. I'm absolutely thrilled!! Not that I really cared one way or the other, I just want her to be born alive and healthy. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited at the prospect of shopping for all those adorable little girl clothes.

So from now on, I will be calling her Frostina instead of Frosty! My mother is petrified that we will get attached to this little nickname and actually name her Frostina. I may be a bit crazy from time to time, but I'm not that crazy. Although she will probably always be Frostina here on this blog.

Wow, I'm having a girl. Wow!

Because We Don't Trust Me

2012-02-11T18:49:00.000Z

Every baby book and advice website tells you the same thing. Trust your instincts, listen to your gut, you will have a sense if something is wrong. Doctors and midwives say it too. It sounds so reassuring when you read it or hear it out loud. As if nothing can go wrong if only you listen to your inner voice and pay attention to your body.

But what happens if history shows that you have no instinct, no gut, and you will have no idea if anything is wrong? What if your inner voice tells you things are fine when they aren't. What if your body gives you false hope? What do you do then?? That my friends is the dilemma The Hubby and I are currently facing.

You see, my son died inside my womb and for at least a week and I HAD NO IDEA.

That's right, I had no idea anything was wrong. I remember writing about it four months after he was born. At that time I was still wracked with guilt for not noticing. For not being able to sound the alarm and save him. I played the what if game a lot back then. Blaming myself, trying to think back to when the feelings of movement changed, when they slowed down. Even in hindsight I have been unable to pinpoint the moment when he left us.

As time has gone on I have learned to forgive myself. I know that there is no way I would have happily gone through my days if I had any inkling that something was wrong.

The hardest part to forgive was the fact that I gave The Hubby the impression that everything was OK when it wasn't. Our husbands rely on us to tell them everything about how the pregnancy is going. They don't carry the baby and as a result, they are on the outside looking in. They depend on us to communicate with them, and to let them know if something is wrong. That's where I failed big time.

I've been starting to feel Frosty moving around. It's a wonderful thing to feel your baby moving and kicking. I had forgotten how happy those little kicks and flutters make me. Every time I feel something I happily announce it to The Hubby. He's just as thrilled as I am for this newest development. However, this has also raised some new anxiety for him.

When he doesn't get a kick report from me, he will ask me if I've felt anything. If I say no then he gets worried. I tried to assure him that I shouldn't feel Frosty all the time but this didn't help. A day or two went by before he shared his fears with me. He's worried that something will happen and we won't know again,,, like last time. And neither of us wants to go through that pain and shock again.

We both fear that I don't really know what a kick or a flutter is. After all, I swore I could feel my son moving, even after we knew he was dead. So maybe I just can't tell the difference between baby existing inside of me vs baby actually moving inside of me. So as a result of my past history,,, we don't trust me to know if things are going wrong.

Not cheap, but worth every penny

So we have decided to buy a home doppler. I was against it for a long time thinking it might make me more paranoid. But after seeing the fear and worry on The Hubby's face I think it's our best option. We both need to be able to feel reassured that things are OK. Not just based on what I think I'm feeling, but based on actually hearing Frosty's little heartbeat. So I placed the order and now we're just waiting for it to arrive.

The Shift

2012-02-07T13:06:00.000Z

I'm not sure when it happened, but something shifted. I went from being the kind of person who thought bad things only happened to other people to the kind of person who thinks that bad things only happen to me. Other people get the happy endings, not me. "They" will get exactly what they want with very little struggle and no unexpected "surprises" in the end. I will not be so lucky. I will forever live on the wrong side of statistics. I'm the 1 in 1000, aren't I special?

Actually I lie, I know exactly when the shift happened. It was on September 12, 2010 at my 36 week scan when I was told that my son had died. All through my struggle with infertility I kept telling myself that it would all work out in the end. That once I finally got pregnant then all would be well. I naively figured that after 7 years of struggle I was owed at least that. I had an easy (minus the morning sickness), complication free pregnancy. I was finally going to have my miracle baby.

Until that day, in that room, with those words... there's no heartbeat. That's the day it all shifted for me. I somehow went from a super optimistic person to someone who realized that there would be no easy road for me. I was the kind of person that bad things happened to. Not because I had done anything wrong or somehow deserved it. But because bad things just happen, and apparently the universe has decided that they were going to happen to me.

It's hard to continue to be happy for those "other people." The people out there that bad things don't happen to. The majority of folks who never struggle to get and stay pregnant. Those who just go off birth control, get pregnant, and then 9 months later share their happy post-birth photos of their new happy family.

Please don't think that I would wish my misery on them because I don't. It's just hard to see everyone else getting what I am fighting tooth and nail for with such ease. They are in a place that I can only hope someday to be.

Now I know there will be those of you reading this who want to reach through their computer screens and give me a good old slap. I know that many of you are still deep in the trenches of infertility. A place where that elusive positive pregnancy test seems to mock you at every turn. A world filled with hormone injections and cycle dates. Your life ruled by the calendar and completely taken over by doctors apointments. A world where the outcome of peeing on a stick will either fill you with joy or send you crying to your bed.

You are probably thinking, "Who are you to talk?? You're pregnant. All I want is to be pregnant. If only I could get pregnant than I could move on from the nightmare of failed cycle after failed cycle." Believe me, I get that and I probably deserve a slap or two for feeling so sorry for myself.

But you have to remember that I have been here before. For me, just being pregnant doesn't assure me anything. The last time I was pregnant I thought I was "all clear" only to have everything ripped away from me at 36 weeks.

After the baby shower. After all the clothes had been purchased and washed. After all the baby stuff had been purchased and delivered. After that terrible day when all I was left with was a house full of baby stuff and empty arms.

So for me, the journey doesn't end until I have a healthy living baby to bring home with me. Only then will I believe that perhaps it's all real. Only then will I start to allow myself to believe that perhaps something bad won't happen to me this time. That perhaps I've had my fair share of bad stuff happen. Although just writing those words down feels a lot like tempting fate to me.

I'm not sure I will ever be able to shift back to my old self. I think I will forever be "That Woman." The woman who bad things happen to. An outsider of sorts. Struggling to fit in and just be happy for other people without letting my own unhappiness and jealousy get in the way.

A Great Idea, Thanks To You!

2012-02-04T12:35:00.000Z

Have I mentioned recently how amazing my bloggy friends are? Well if I haven't done it lately let me do it now.

You guys are awesome!

I just wrote about not wanting to have a baby shower because it would be a flashback minefield for me. I was pondering doing something after (here's me being hopeful again) the baby is born. I asked for suggestions about what to do and how to avoid calling it a baby shower.

I got some great responses from that post and I learned a thing or two as well. I knew that British women don't really do baby showers (although the idea is growing in popularity), but I didn't realize it was considered bad luck. I also didn't realize that many Jewish people won't do a shower before the baby is born. Although having been to many a baby shower for my Jewish friends I'm guessing this rule is flexible.

I also learned about a Southern US tradition that I had never heard of before. It's called a Sip 'N' See party. According to this website that the lovely SG shared with me, a Sip 'N' See party is a baby shower you have after the baby is born. Guests come over to "sip" drinks and "see" the new baby. It can be casual or more formal and is often done open house style where guests are given a time frame and can come and go as they please.

I absolutely love this idea! It seems like a perfect way to celebrate a new baby without all the painful memories of baby showers past. So thanks to all of you who commented and suggested such a great idea. I will be passing this idea on to my friends who want to throw me a shower.

No Baby Shower For Me

2012-02-02T14:45:00.000Z

A while back I wrote about the tricky subject of being invited to a baby shower after dealing with infertility or losing a child. Of course in my case, both of these issue apply... lucky me.

I was proud of myself that in the end I was brave enough to say no and not attend. I wrote about that as well, take a read if you wish. Now I'm faced with another baby shower dilemma, do I want one for me?

I knew it was only a matter of time before the idea of having a baby shower was presented to me. I also knew that my answer would have to be no this time. I just can't imagine getting through another baby shower with the memory of what happened the last time still so fresh in my head. When you lose your son 3 weeks after your baby shower, it doesn't exactly make you want to rush out and have another one.

I've been amazed and impressed when reading the blogs of other Baby Loss Moms who don't seem to have this same issue. I've read their posts about their wonderful baby showers and seen them smiling in the photos with total amazement. I know it's never good to compare yourself to others but I wonder how they are able to manage it?

Please don't think I'm judging my fellow BLM's. I would NEVER do that. I'm actually happy for them that they are able to embrace the day and honor their rainbow babies in such a special way with their family and friends. I suppose I'm jealous that they aren't crippled by their fear the way I obviously am. I'm jealous that I can't have a shower for this baby like I was able to do for my son.

Oh how I wish I could get to that place where I could make it through a shower for Frosty without having a total meltdown. That place where I could embrace this pregnancy with the same joy and excitement as my last one. That place where I wasn't so afraid to have anything baby related in my house.

Oh yes, you read that correctly. I can't have ANY baby items in this house before we have an actual living baby in it first.

So no baby shower for me! Not until this baby is born healthy and alive.

Instead, I've agreed to have a shower after (see, here's me being positive) Frosty is born. I don't know anyone who has done this, but I'm sure it happens. I suppose the day will be a bit different than your normal baby shower,,, in fact maybe we won't even call it a baby shower. Maybe I'll have to think of a different name for it.

I'm open to suggestions about what to call it. Also, if you know of anyone else who has done it this way, I'd love to hear how it went.

Just In Case?

2012-01-29T17:29:00.000Z

There's not a lot going on in my schedule this Sunday afternoon so I decided it was time to clean out the fridge. It's one of those jobs that just has to be done from time to time. Who says my life isn't glamorous?

So I'm going through the shelves, throwing out old left overs and some surprisingly scary onions when I come across this.

Amazing what you can find hiding on the top shelf.

For those of you who have not had the pleasure of partaking in the joy that is Assisted Reproduction Treatment, let me introduce you to Lupron. It's a very expensive little hormone that you have to inject into your muscles as part of your treatment. It makes you feel pretty crappy and a bit crazy too. If you get through a cycle and don't finish the whole bottle, your nurse tells you to save it in the fridge "just in case" this cycle fails and you need it again.

Just in case.

So my logical brain tells me that this too needs to be thrown away. After all, my FET worked and I'm currently 18 weeks pregnant with Frosty. So why do I need this old bottle of fertility hormone taking up space in my small UK fridge?? Sigh, I do miss my ginormous US fridge, and washer, and tumble dryer,,,, but I digress.

I think I should point out that since losing my son almost 18 months ago, my logical brain hasn't been getting much action. I'm sure it's still there somewhere, but it's hardly heard from these days. When it does try and pop back in to offer it's two cents it gets quickly stomped all over by my emotions. This case was no exception.

Just as my logical brain was telling my hand to grab the Lupron and toss in in the bin my emotions screamed, "STOP!" Stop right now! You can't throw that away! You may be pregnant but you are far from all clear. Just because your baby is alive now doesn't mean he/she will be born that way. You need to keep that bottle... Just In Case.

Just in case things go wrong like last time and I have to start again. Just in case the universe will think I'm getting too smug and happy in this pregnancy and feel the need to smack me around again. Just in case by throwing away that bottle I somehow cause things to go wrong.

Just in case.

It's crazy, I know. My logical brain tells me that even if the worst happens again, that bottle will probably expire before I get to use it again. It tells me that simply keeping (or not keeping) a bottle in the fridge will have no influence on this pregnancy. It tells me that superstition is just plain silly. But my emotions smacked that logical brain of mine down again and would not allow my hand to throw that bottle away.

So there it sits. Just in case.

*This is my contribution to the Managing The Fear BLM Link Up that I started last week. As you can see, I'm not doing a great job managing my fear at the moment. I am so touched by the stories that have been shared by some pretty amazing women. If you haven't had a chance to read their stories, please click on the link above to read them. Also, there are still a few more days until the linky closes so you can still share your story if you'd like.

There's Still Time

2012-01-25T17:03:00.000Z

To participate in the Managing The Fear BLM Link Up!

Earlier this week I posed the question, "How do you manage fear during a pregnancy after loss?" I've been asked this question myself and I'm never sure how to answer it. So I invited you, my fellow Baby Loss Mom's to link up and share your experiences.

I want to thank those of you who have already linked up. I was moved by your honesty and can completely relate to your struggle.

Haven't linked your story up yet? No worries! There is still time to share your story. Here's a direct link to make it even easier http://findmynewnormal.blogspot.com/2012/01/managing-fear-blm-link-up.html http://findmynewnormal.blogspot.com/2012/01/managing-fear-blm-link-up.html

I'm keeping the link up open for a while longer because the more stories we have to share, the better. Each of us will experience our pregnancies and our fear in a different way. Each of us will have struggles and small victories. Each of us will sometimes feel like we're alone in all of this, that no one else really gets it.

I am hoping that by sharing our stories with each other we can see that we are not alone. Our experiences, while unique, are also quite similar. We have the same hurdles to overcome, the same huge fear to tackle.

Even if your story is about how you're not overcoming your fear. Even if your fear is winning right now. Even if you feel completely unqualified to give advice because you haven't figured it out yourself. By sharing that story, you will be helping other BLM's. Sometimes there is even more benefit in sharing our struggles than in sharing our victories.

So I encourage you all to link up and share your stories! I look forward to reading them!

Managing The Fear- A BLM Link Up

2012-01-21T13:21:00.002Z

How do you manage the fear that goes along with a pregnancy after loss? That's the question I've been asked and since I have no idea, I've decided to ask all of you.

A few days ago I got a message via Twitter from a fellow Baby Loss Mom. She lost her precious daughter a few months ago and like every BLM I know, is struggling to cope. The reason she messaged me is because she has just found out she is pregnant again. She wanted to know if I had any advice to help her get through the next few weeks because she is petrified.

I really struggled with how to answer this question, but I did the best I could. Days later I'm still not happy with what I said to her. Partly because of stupid Twitter and the whole 140 character rule, and partly because I don't think what I said is actually going to be helpful to her.

So you can see what I'm talking about, here was my response to her.

First of all congratulations! As far as managing your fear goes, I still haven't worked that out for myself. I can tell you that I'm getting less scared and more hopeful as the pregnancy is progressing. I think the fear is normal and something that will be with us the whole time. I'm sorry I can't offer the magic solution. But with grief there never is a magic solution. We have to go through it and feel it and live it I don't think there are any shortcuts. We have lived through the worst case scenario and it's normal to be worried it will happen again. I wish you the best of luck.

Not exactly a happy, shiny, "everything will be ok" answer was it? Although I suppose that's not really what she was looking for.

I think my issue with answering this question is that I haven't figured out how to manage my own fear yet. I'm not nearly as petrified as I was in the beginning, that's for sure. But I have no idea why. Perhaps I've just wrapped myself in a nice blanket of denial?? That's always possible with me.

So I've decided to reach out to my fellow BLM's for help. Not just for my Twitter friend, but also for myself and for anyone else struggling with this issue right now. And I've decided to make it a link up, my very first one. I'm not a link up expert so you will have to bear with me on this one. There may be a few glitches as I try and figure this whole thing out.

The only rule is that your post has to deal with the topic of fear during a pregnancy after a loss. It can be a new post or an old one. It can be about you, or about someone you know. Maybe you've been through it and come out the other side. Or maybe you're right in the middle of it all like I am.

All perspectives on this topic are welcome. You don't have to follow me to participate (although if you enjoy reading my blog then you're welcome to follow). Any links that are off topic will be deleted.

Also, please feel free to share this link up with other BLM's who may not be regular readers of my blog. The more participants we have the better! We have a wonderful community here in the baby loss community and I look forward to reading your responses. Oh, and if you don't have a blog of your own, feel free to add your insights here in the comments section.

So here goes. How do you manage the fear during a pregnancy after loss? Is it even possible to manage fear? Are there any tools or strategies you used? Did they work? What advice would you share with those of us going through it right now?

Outing Myself On Facebook

2012-01-17T10:52:00.000Z

No, I did not use this photo!

As the title says, I have announced my pregnancy on facebook.

I know many of you are shrieking in horror right now. You're probably thinking, "Not another smug, cheesy, annoying pregnancy announcement!" I can promise you that I did my best to make sure my announcement was none of those things.

I absolutely understand why many of my fellow Baby Loss Mom's and Infertiles are not huge fans of Facebook. It can be a source of pain for many of us. I myself have been known to hide all photos of friends on my list who have just had babies. But at the same time, I do love social networking sites. As someone who lives overseas, I find they really are the best way to keep in touch with family and friends back home.

The Hubby and I are working on embracing this pregnancy. Our little Frosty deserves to have parents who are as happy and excited for his/her arrival as we were when I was pregnant with our son. So in this spirit, I decided to go for it.

I wanted to make sure that my announcement didn't seem smug, cheesy, or annoying. I also wanted to acknowledge where we are in our lives with respect to this new pregnancy. To try and make people aware that while I still struggle with grief, I am also hopeful. I don't want anyone to forget about our firstborn or to think that now that I'm pregnant that everything is wonderful again.

In addition, I wanted to share the term Rainbow Baby with everyone and explain what it means. That's a lot to squeeze into a pregnancy announcement, but I was determined to make it happen.

It took me about a week to find the perfect wording. I searched the web high and low for just the right definition for the term rainbow baby. There are a few floating around, but none of them seemed quite right. So I took a few bits and pieces from what I found elsewhere, and wrote the rest myself. In the end I think it strikes a good balance of expressing my loss while still celebrating the new life growing inside me.

Here's what I posted.

After every storm there is a rainbow, illuminating the clouds and bringing the color back into what was previously a gray and stormy sky. The beauty of the rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm, but instead offers the promise of brighter times ahead. It is for this reason that babies born after a loss are often referred to as “Rainbow Babies.” Today I would like to share the news that I am pregnant with what we hope will be our rainbow baby. There are days when I still feel like I’m in the middle of the storm, but I’m now dreaming of our rainbow who is due to arrive this June.

I know it's a bit long for a facebook post, but it was important for me to get this message out correctly. Hopefully I've done that.

Making Sacrifices vs Being Paraniod

2012-01-12T12:17:00.002Z

One of the first things that happens when you find out you're pregnant is you have to start giving things up. We give up our beloved glass or two of wine (perhaps not as beloved to some as it is to me,, but I digress). We give up soft cheese and pate. We try and cut back on the junk food and eat more fruit and veg. We make sacrifices in order to have a healthy baby.

The purpose of this post is not to boo hoo about the fact that I can no longer enjoy a nice glass of wine or two with dinner. It's also not meant to debate what exactly pregnant women should or should not eat, drink, or do. I am by no means an expert, especially since my only pregnancy prior to this one resulted in a dead baby... so what do I know??

The purpose of writing this is to explore at what point are we making sacrifices, and at what point are we just being paranoid? I know of women who have given up all kinds of things; artificial sweeteners, caffeine, salad at restaurants (due to fear that the leaves aren't washed properly), processed foods, salad bars, buffet restaurants, tap water, etc. I have also known of women who won't go to places where there may be second hand smoke or won't ride any form of public transport for fear of germs.

On the flip side I have known women who didn't sacrifice anything. They drank wine, went snow skiing, smoked like chimneys, and ate all the brie and camembert they wanted to. Guess what? Their babies were absolutely fine.

I have been struggling with a bit of a dilemma lately. As most of you know, I do not work outside the home. I'm a stay at home wife who has been desperately trying to turn into a stay at home Mom for the past 9 years or so. I did work as a teacher before we moved to the UK, but when we moved here we decided to focus more on the whole baby making thing and as a result I've not been in paid work.

One of the things I do with my time is to volunteer at a local primary school (that's elementary school to my US readers). I go in once a week and read with kids who need extra help. It's something that I really enjoy and is the closest thing to a job that I've got. It makes me feel good to know that I'm helping children who struggle to read to get better. It makes me feel like I'm still contributing to society. I love my time each week at the school.

Working there has been a part of both my "old" normal and my "new" normal. Going back to work at the school was a huge part of my recovery after losing my son. As I shared on this blog about a year ago, going back and reading with the kids was something that made me feel "normal" again.

So it seems odd to me that I am now going to be giving up my time with the students in order to keep my little Frosty safe. I can't figure out if it's reasonable caution, or pure paranoia?

As we all know, schools are a breeding ground for all kinds of viruses, illness, and germs. Kids go to school and wipe their snot and saliva all over everything. They are ever so generous with all the germs they are carrying.

When I was pregnant with my son I didn't worry about this. I have a fairly strong immune system due to all my years working with children. I wash my hands a lot and try not to touch my face when I'm at school.

But then my son died at 36 weeks. The reason?? An infection or virus that attacked his placenta. This virus or infection was of unknown origin. There was no trace of it left when they did the post mortem so I don't even know what it was for sure. I don't recall ever being sick during pregnancy either so it's all a big mystery.

I also have no way to know where it came from. I am not trying to say that it came from the children at school. I live in London, I take taxi's, and I ride public transport. I go to the shopping centre and I shop at the grocery store. There are a million places where I could have picked up this killer bug.

The teacher in me keeps saying, "You know, teachers have babies all the time. You're just being paranoid." But the Baby Loss Mom in me knows what it's like when it all goes horribly wrong. She knows what it's like to have to read a post mortem report for her baby. She knows what it's like to have to pick up her son's ashes from the crematorium. She knows what it's like to have to return all the baby shower gifts. Her voice keeps saying to me, "Why take any chances?"

I've been going back and forth with this since I found out I was pregnant. My mind has been battling this decision, not sure what exactly to do. But then this week I noticed a strange red rash on the face and hands of a little girl I was reading with.

And I totally freaked out!

There was a very real fear that I've never experienced before. Like I wanted to immediately run out of the room and shower in anti-bacterial gel. A visceral and primal instinct to protect Frosty. Of course I didn't run from the room because I didn't want to alarm the students.

Instead I waited until I got home and talked it over with The Hubby. He told me that he wanted it to be my decision and wouldn't share his opinion unless I really wanted him to. So I asked him and he said that he wanted me to stop going. His opinion is why take chances that you don't have to.

So I have decided not to go back. It's a big sacrifice because I love going and I know the students who I read with really need my help. But I can't get over my paranoia, or caution, or whatever it is,,, and this time I don't think I want to.

Maybe sometimes it's OK to be just a little bit paranoid??

Predictions

2012-01-11T13:25:00.000Z

I am a planner. I like to know things. I like to have information. That way I can make plans. I'm not saying that my plans always work out.... take my last pregnancy for example.... but making the plans makes me happy. So I really don't like the fact that I don't know if my little Frosty is a girl or a boy.

When I was pregnant with our son we knew at 13 weeks. This is because due to The Hubby and I both being carriers for cystic fibrosis, we opted to do a CVS to make sure he would not carry the disease. When you do a CVS they can also tell you the sex of the baby. No guessing, no playing peeping Tom with the ultrasound to identify girl or boy bits, no chance of error. You know 100% that your baby is either XX or XY. Done!

This time since we used donor eggs we don't need to worry about cystic fibrosis (phew). It also means Frosty showed low risk for downs syndrome (thank you 20-something year old donor eggs). So this time we are opting not to do a CVS or an Amnio. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks with our little Frosty.

All good, except that it means I have to wait until 20 weeks to find out if we have a "Frosty" or a "Frostina" in here.

I have been feeling a boy vibe up until now. The last time I also felt boy and I was right. But then last night I had a dream about Frosty. She had been born and she was a girl. She was super cute with brown hair and brown eyes just like mine. I remember thinking that was funny since both our egg donor and The Hubby have brown hair and green eyes.

I am now wondering if I want to change my prediction from boy to girl?? I know it's all just a fun game we play with ourselves, this predicting. I know we won't know until we play peek-a-boo at 20 weeks. But I am starting to wonder if indeed I am having a girl.

I should also stress that I have no preference whatsoever. After what I've been through I just want a baby born alive and healthy.

Invitation Declined... Phew

2012-01-05T18:13:00.000Z

As I wrote about a while back, I've been invited to a baby shower this month. If you click on the link you can read in detail just how much turmoil this caused me.

If just can't be bothered, here's the story in a nutshell.

The last baby shower I went to was my own.
My son died 3 weeks later.
The though of having to attend a baby shower makes me break out in hives.
I wasn't sure exactly how to say no because I'm a people pleaser.

Ok, so now we're all up to speed.

I've spent a long time thinking about it and have decided that I just can't go. There is still a small part of me that wants to push myself, to not allow myself to hide from things like this. I don't want to spend the rest of my life avoiding baby showers because they are usually pretty fun events. Also, I don't like to miss out on a good party,,, ever. But I've decided that this is not the time.

I'm 15 weeks pregnant which means my hormones are all over the place. So the likelihood of crying goes way up. In fact, I started crying on the bus yesterday for no reason at all. I just don't trust my emotions right now. Plus the fact that this is not a good time to be stressing myself out. I'm already scared and stressed enough just being pregnant again. So I'm not exactly in the best state of mind to test or push myself.

I've got plenty of time to put on my big girl panties and act like a mature grown up. Just not now. There's no reason to rush into something that could end up a total disaster. No one wins if that happens and I could end up ruining someones special day. Not good.

So I sent her an email explaining my feelings and why I didn't feel I could come. It was such a relief just to send it. Now it's not hanging over my head anymore. Her reply was very positive. She told me she understands why I can't come and thanked me for telling her my reasons. So either all is well, or she's pissed off and just faking it. Either way I really don't care.

I'm just relieved that I stood up for myself and am only doing things I think I can handle right now. After all, I've got my little Frosty to take care of.

She's Pregnant Too- Oh Joy!

2012-01-03T19:45:00.001Z

Somehow I knew this would happen.

I'm slowly starting to tell people that I'm pregnant. Last time around I just posted a big announcement on facebook because I figured it was the fastest and easiest way to let everyone know at once. This is especially helpful since I live in a different country than my family and many of my friends. This time around I'm not quite ready to make that big of an announcement just yet. So instead I've been emailing small groups of people and letting them know.

I decided to share the info with a few friends who I know through an organization I'm in. These women all live here in London. One of these women was pregnant at the same time as I was last time. Our due dates were 4 weeks apart. Her son lived,,,, mine did not. She was amazingly supportive at the time and has continued to be a good friend to me. She's not someone I see regularly, but we do get together from time to time.

I have never met her son for reasons I've written about before. It's just too painful to even imagine it. Her son, a living breathing reminder of what I don't have. These two boys who should have been friends and playmates. We have never spoken about the fact that I have yet to meet him. In a way I suppose it's just understood. Either that or she is totally clueless and I'm giving her way too much credit.

Immediately after sending the email my phone rang. It was her calling to congratulate me. She was crying, which made me cry. She wanted me to know just how happy she is for me. I was telling her how sick I've been and apologized for missing a few things on our organization's calendar. She then said to me that she had also missed them because she was sick too.

An alarm went off in my head.

No, it couldn't be..... could it??

So I asked her, "Are you pregnant too?"

"Yes," she said.

Holy crap!! *I didn't say that out loud of course but I was thinking it.

Instead I offered my congratulations. I said to her that I couldn't believe our timing was the same again. Then I asked how far along she was and she told me that she is 14 weeks.

Holy crap!! *Again, I didn't say this out loud.

As it turns out, our due dates are 3 days apart this time. So we get to be pregnant together again. Oh joy! She even suggested that we start doing pregnancy yoga together like we did last time. Oh joy!

I am of course happy for her, but I'm less than thrilled to be sharing another pregnancy with her. I didn't want to share this pregnancy with any of my friends (I know,,, selfish of me) because I know how it feels when things go wrong. The strain it can put on a friendship. But I especially didn't want to be sharing this pregnancy with either of the two friends I shared it with the last time.

It's all too painfully familiar. Flashbacks of last time around. The two of us with our baby bumps spending time together. Making plans for playdates. Remembering the look on her face when she came to visit me after my son died. Still pregnant and glowing, with puffy eyes from crying. There was a fear behind her smile. I know she was just hoping that it wouldn't happen to her too. Yet she still came to see me, fear and all.

I don't want to go there again. I don't want to remember how that time felt. More importantly, I don't want to re-live that experience. I'm already scared enough this pregnancy. Another loss would be crushing, but to have to watch her have another baby after another loss would just be too much. I realize that I'm doing worst case scenario here,,,, but when you've actually lived the worst case it seems much less far-fetched.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I'm not happy about it at all. I will do my best to get over myself because there's nothing I can do at this point.

I wonder if I'm going to get a call or email from my other friend who was pregnant with me the last time announcing her pregnancy?? That would be just my luck wouldn't it?

*Pouring my heart out with Shell at http://www.thingsicantsay.com

Unwinding

2012-01-01T18:19:00.000Z

Christmas is over, the new year is here, and my house is once again free of visitors. I can feel my body slowly unwinding from all the activity and family time. It would unwind much more quickly with a nice glass of wine,,,, but alas, this pregnant lady is off the booze.

I'm a bundle of extra energy right now. Wanting to get the house back to normal. Washing all the sheets and towels. Taking down the Christmas tree. I know it will take me days to fully relax. I'm like this after all our family visits.

Having family come to visit is always wonderful. Having family come to visit is also always a bit stressful. Part of it is of course the fact that we live across the pond from our family so when they do come it's for a longer period of time. My parents can't exactly pop in for the weekend since it takes them 11 hours on a plane to get here. So when visitors come it's generally for 2 or 3 weeks at a time. That can be a LOT of family time... if you know what I mean.

Brussels at Christmas

I'm not complaining this time around though. After spending last Christmas on our own, buried in our own grief, it was nice to have a house full of happy people this year. We even invited another couple over for Christmas dinner. I cooked a turkey and all the fixings, poured lots of wine, and played a bunch of silly party games. All in all, it was a great night. I took my parents around London and we even took the Eurostar over to Brussels for a quick visit. It was very nice to see them, but I'm exhausted.

I actually felt a bit sorry for them this trip. My nausea and exhaustion kicked in on several days so we had to cancel plans. In addition, The Hubby got a terrible cold and was out of commission for almost a week. So basically they had "The Preggo" and "The Sickie" as hosts. It resulted in a few more days at home than I think they might have liked. Although they are so excited that I'm pregnant again that I think they will forgive me.

I don't feel guilty for enjoying myself a bit this year. In the year and four months since our son died we have grieved him almost continuously. At some point that grief gets softer around the edges. Somehow we find a way to be able to feel joy and happiness again. I am grateful for the happiness. Because it cuts through the pain of grief. I am grateful that we were able to have a Happy Christmas this year. Perhaps it will be the first of many more to come.

But for now it's back to reality. I've got sheets to wash, Christmas decorations to put away, and some serious unwinding to do.

Busy Busy

2011-12-24T10:27:00.000Z

Just a quick note to let you all know I'm still here and all is well. I've got my parents visiting from the USA and they are keeping me busy. I've tried to find time to write, but have just been too busy. I have been reading your blog posts when I can and am wishing you all well.

Hopefully I have time soon to get some of these words out of my head. This Christmas is both happy and sad for me. Lots to say but no time at the moment.

Busy busy.

Waiting For The Christmas Spirit

2011-12-18T11:12:00.000Z

Christmas is in full swing around here. The tree is up, the house is decorated, and all the presents have been wrapped. Plans have been made for most of the big meals. Dinner out for Christmas Eve, a huge dinner in for Christmas, and even a special meal for Boxing Day (which they celebrate here in the UK).

Unlike most years, it won't be just the two of us. My parents arrive today for a 2 week visit. In addition, we have invited some expat friends over for Christmas dinner. Because of the nature of The Hubby's job we always have to be home at Christmas time. As a result, since living over here we usually spend it on our own. I am looking forward to having a house full this year. I think it will help to make things feel less lonely and more like Christmas.

Now if only I can find my Christmas spirit.

We will have a house full of guests, food, and Christmas cheer. The Hubby is absolutely buzzing with enthusiasm and excitement, but I'm not sure I'm feeling it just yet. I want to feel it, but I'm not quite there yet.

I approach this Christmas with mixed feelings. I'm sad of course that we will be spending our second Christmas without our son. He would have been old enough this year to rip open presents and try to take the ornaments off the tree. I'm sure we would have spoiled him and got him way too many presents. Somehow I think this time of year will always feel empty without him.

We had lots of tears this year when we hung his ornaments on the tree. I wonder if that will happen every year? I suppose it probably will.

I also have been thinking a lot about the fact that I am pregnant again this year. This means that I have spent 2 of the last 3 holiday seasons pregnant. This time around it feels as much like the best gift ever as it did the first time. A little miracle just waiting to be born. I don't have the same sense of unbridled joy this time around. I suppose that's because this time my joy is mixed with my grief.

But it does give me hope. Hope that next year we will have a living child to share Christmas with. It is with that sense of hope that I'm doing my best to get into the spirit this year. Because we deserve to be happy, especially after all we've been through.

Done With The Meds

2011-12-14T10:50:00.000Z

Last night I "shot the pooper" for the last time. So as of today I am officially off the IVF hormones. I am done with needles and suppositories and all the crazy mood swings that go along with the hormones contained within them.

Wait, I'm pregnant right?? Right, so the crazy hormonal mood swings will most likely continue. But at least they will be due to my own crazy hormones and not due to the extra ones I've been pumping through my body.

Surprisingly I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Mostly I'm relieved. Keeping the schedule of injections and all the rest of it is stressful. It will be nice to live my life without that constant fear that I will miss a dose and jeopardize everything.

I can't tell you how many times I had to wrack my brain to make sure I had indeed done my injection that day. It's a stress that I no longer have to worry about.

It does feel strange though. I've been digging into my bag-o-meds on a daily basis since August,,, and that's just the meds for this cycle. So it will be a huge relief to not have to bother with it all.

It also means I'm approaching my second trimester. A fact that seems amazing to me. How has it already been that long? Not that it seems like yesterday when I got my first positive test, but it's already been almost 3 months? Really??? I'm approaching my second trimester? Wow, that denial thing I'm doing is working really well.I seem to have lost all sense of passing time.

I am slightly scared to be off all the meds though. It's my understanding that they have you take the hormones after the transfer to help your body keep the pregnancy going. Obviously I'm no doctor and I'm sure I'm not saying it quite right, but you get what I mean. There is a part of me that has felt a bit more secure knowing I was taking a bit of extra hormones to keep my little Frosty on board. Now that I'm off the hormones I have to depend on my own body to do the same thing.

I know that pregnancy is unpredictable and the hormones wouldn't have kept anything from happening if that is what was meant to be. But the extra medication feels like a bit of a security blanket. There is a small part of me that wonders what harm would come if I just took the hormones for an extra day or two. Or an extra week?

As tempting as it may seem, I will not be taking my medication beyond what my Doctor has prescribed. I don't know if it would be harmful to take the hormones after the recommended date. Maybe they have you stop now because it would be bad to continue. The last thing I want is to do anything to cause harm to Frosty.

The other reason I won't take the hormones past today is because at some point I've got to go off them. I suspect I will be a bit scared whenever that day is. So no matter if it's today, or two days from now I've still got to do it. A leap of faith if you will. Trusting that my body will start doing it's job without help from supplemental progesterone and estrogen. Trusting that this time things will end well. Now that's a tall order isn't it??

Frosty Is Hanging In There

2011-12-12T22:29:00.000Z

Today I went in for my 12 week ultrasound. Well actually I'm only 11 weeks and 4 days but you get the idea. I was doing a really good job at keeping mellow and relaxed. Right up until about an hour before the appointment time. Then I got all panicky and stressed but managed to hold it together without any tears. This is a huge improvement in my book because the last scan I couldn't sleep the night before and was a total mess the whole day.

It was really great to get to see our little Frosty again. He or she was moving all over the place and has a good healthy heartbeat. It's such a relief each time I get to see and hear that wonderful heartbeat.

All the measurements look great. I won't know the full results which include our chances for downs syndrome and a few other things until later this week, but I'm feeling pretty positive. At first our doctor was asking us about having an amnio and wanting to know our feelings on the test, but once I reminded him that we used a 20-something egg donor he retracted his comment. He said that based on what he can see, he thinks it will be highly unlikely that our results will come back with anything to worry about it.

After the appointment The Hubby asked me when we want to start telling more people. I didn't have an answer for him. I know we're almost at 12 weeks now and even though I know there is no "all clear" I do know that after 12 weeks you chances go way up. So at some point we will need to start telling people.

Telling people makes it all seem so much more real. I've been doing a pretty good job of living in a bubble of denial because so few people know. Once we tell more people, I will have to come to terms with the fact that I am indeed pregnant again. It is real,,, it is happening,,, it is real. And that's a pretty scary place for me.

I think he sensed my hesitation and understood that it was based mostly on fear. I say this because he sent me the most amazing text message about an hour later.

It said, "You deserve to be happy today. You deserve to believe that our son is looking after you and his baby brother.. or sister. I love you with all my heart."

What an amazing man I married!

He's right of course, I do deserve to be happy. I deserve to be joyfully telling people that we're expecting again. I deserve to not be riddled with fear this entire pregnancy. I deserve to be able to feel hopeful and to not always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.

So I'm going to do my very best to embrace the joy when it comes. And to try not to dwell on the fear and sadness as much as that's possible. After all, Frosty deserves for his/her parents to be as excited now as we were about his/her older brother. I'm not exactly sure how I'm going to manage this, but I'm sure going to try.

The Last Jab

2011-12-09T10:59:00.000Z

Last night I did my last injection of del Estrogen.

The very last jab!! <---Insert cheers and applause here.

I can't tell you just how excited I am to not have to inject myself with anymore needles! I still have to "shoot the pooper" twice a day with progesterone, but only until next week. Then I'm DONE with all the hormones. I can't wait!

Our next ultrasound is on Monday. This is the NT scan where they check for your risk of downs syndrome and a few other things as well. I'm hoping for a good result on this one since our egg donor is in her 20's. I'm also happy for another chance to see Frosty.

I am praying that there is a good heartbeat and we can see our little Frosty wiggling around in there. I have this lingering fear that we will go in on Monday and see nothing. The Hubby gets mad at me and tells me to have positive thoughts. So that's what I'm trying to do.

I am having positive thoughts.
I am having positive thoughts.
I am having positive thoughts.

What I Want For Christmas

2011-12-07T13:48:00.000Z

Christmas is quickly approaching and The Hubby has been asking me what I want. I still haven't been able to give him an answer. It's weird because usually I have no problems coming up with ideas for presents, especially if they are for me. There's always something I want, maybe a new handbag, maybe some jewellery, maybe clothes. But this year I'm drawing a blank.

This is not like me at all. I have been wondering what is wrong with me that I can't figure out something, anything that I would like to see wrapped under the tree this year.

Part of the problem is that I usually get clothes and being 10 weeks pregnant makes that a difficult one. I'm still in my normal clothes but soon to grow out of them I'm hoping. It's too early to buy maternity clothes, especially when I've already got a box of them down in the garage. So new clothes are pretty much out for now.

Another part of the problem is of course that we have spent a crazy amount of money this year on our fertility treatments and the travel required to do so. So obviously we are on a much more limited budget than normal.

But the largest part is that really, all I want is a living baby. One that I can take home in a car seat instead of in a tiny urn. My due date isn't until June and I certainly don't want my baby to come in time for this Christmas. I guess what I want is to know for sure that he or she will be born healthy and live a very long and happy life. I want my rainbow baby.

I want a guarantee that nothing will go wrong this time.

I want the peace of mind of knowing that all will end well.

That's what I want for Christmas this year.

My Super-Classy Infertility Glossary

2011-12-04T18:17:00.000Z

Fertility treatments,,,,,,, ahhhhh good times! I don't know many people who have gone through them who don't look back in horror at some of the indignities they entail.

I know, I know,,, you will tell me that bringing home a healthy baby is worth all the needle sticking and vaginal probing. And I'm not one to disagree. If in fact I am able to bring this baby home so it can cry all night and poop and pee on me I will be eternally grateful. However that does not take away from some of the things I've chosen to endure in order to get there.

What I'd like to talk about today is the actual process of getting pregnant via these doctor-assisted means. If anyone had told me that someday I'd be injecting myself with needles and doing twice daily suppositories in order to get and stay pregnant, I'd have told them they were crazy. It truly is amazing the things we are asked to do on the quest for our take-home babies.

I have found over the years that the only way to cope with losing what was left of my dignity is to laugh and make jokes. To that effect, I have given the various bits and bobs of my infertility journey nicknames. Nicknames that I am now going to share with all of you. An infertility glossary of sorts. I should probably preface this by saying that I am super classy and so of course my glossary is full of very classy terminology (insert sarcasm here).

Still interested? Then read on, but you have been warned!

Auntie Flo- Your period, which either comes when you don't want it to. Like when you're hoping you might actually be pregnant. Or doesn't come when you do want it to. Like when you're wanting to start a new IVF cycle.

My bag-o-meds.

Bag-O-Meds- The giant bag you end up having to buy to house all your super-expensive IVF drugs.

Beta Test- A form of torture. You think you might be pregnant (especially if you've cheated already and peed on a stick) but you still have to take the blood test to see if your hormone levels agree. If you get a 0 then you're out. If you get anything besides a 0 then you have to test several more times to see if your cycle was a success or a failure. It's a long drawn out process and even then you end up having to wait for the ultrasound to see if you're actually pregnant.

Collection Room- The one and only sacrifice our dear husbands have to make. And when I say sacrifice I am laughing hysterically. This is the room where you hubby goes to wack off into a cup. My hubby has been in many of these and tells me that the quality of both the accommodations and reading material can vary widely depending on the facility. From the bathroom of a lab with no dirty magazines to the Rolls Royce of all collection rooms which has leather reclining chairs, porn on demand on the TV, and a remote control. He thinks that a tour of this room should be done before final clinic selection.

Egg Donor- An angel from heaven. A woman who decides to donate her eggs so that sad, sorry, grieving, over 40, infertile women like me can have a baby. I believe there should be a special place in heaven for egg and sperm donors.

Frosty- Our little frozen embryo who has decided to stick around for the past 10 weeks. I am hoping and praying that our little frosty grows into our take-home rainbow baby who will cry all night and pee and poop on us.

IVF- A process that relieves you of your future children's college money before they are even conceived. Unless you are lucky enough to have health coverage that pays for it, in which case I am super jealous and am not sure I can be friends with you!

My jabby jab survival kit.

Jabby Jab- All the injections you have to do along the way. Some are tiny needles and go into your belly. Others are large needles and go into your leg or hip muscles. Some of you have your husbands or friends do them for you. Others, like me, have to jab yourselves. Either way, they leave you with bruising, swelling, numbness, and sometimes itchiness too. Oh, and what they don't tell you is that you have to continue them even after you find out you're pregnant!

License to Carry- The note you get from the doctor that says you can fly on airplanes with all your drugs and needles. Having travelled from the US to the UK for treatment and also travelling from the UK to a few countries in Europe for vacation, I have found this note completely unnecessary. None of the security screeners I encountered ever even asked me about the mass quantities of needles and liquid hormones in my bag. They were always much more concerned with my big boobs and the fact that my underwire bra always sets off the metal detector. I got lots of extra pat downs, but never a bag search.

Mr. Wandy- The beloved vaginal ultrasound wand. This tool of joy is used for all sorts of things. To check your ovaries and follicles, to check your lining, and also to check if you have a viable pregnancy. He is usually dressed in a condom with some lube, but at one of my clinics they just stuck a bright blue rubber glove on him. Nice!

Pee Stick- The Magic 8 Ball for women trying to conceive. You pee on it and it tells you your future, pregnant,,, or not pregnant. The fancy digital ones not only tell you if you are pregnant, but they also tell you how far along you are. It is the only item I am aware of that is socially acceptable to pee on, then take photos of (to post on your blog of course), and then pass around to your friends and family to examine. Just imagine trying to pass around a wad of used toilet paper and see what kind of responses you would get.

Poking The Bear- All those hormone injections can make a girl a bit testy. At times one can feel like a raging bear ready to explode. At some of these times, The Hubby thought it was funny to say things to try and set me off. At these times I would glare at him and say, "Don't poke the bear." Sometimes it worked and sometimes he went ahead and poked the bear anyway. He paid dearly for those times.

Shoot The Cooch- After receiving the good news that you don't have to inject your progesterone in your leg anymore you may want to cheer. Until you find out that you have to use this plastic popsicle stick looking "applicator" to inject it into your vagina twice a day. I took to referring to this a shooting the cooch because cooch is such a classy word for vagina. Oh, and no one tells you in advance that sometimes this can cause spotting. Until you start spotting and freak out and have to call the nurse. Spotting is bad!!

Shoot The Pooper- After you start spotting and are sure you are having a miscarriage they tell you that the vaginal form of progesterone can sometimes be the cause of the bleeding. You sigh in relief because you know that you are not losing your baby, you just have a sensitive cervix. Your doctor tells you he will switch you to the anal form of progesterone. Good times!! Since I could no longer announce I was shooting the cooch I changed my terminology to shooting the pooper since that was now what I was doing. Amazingly, this process is not nearly as horrifying as it may sound. Or maybe I've just got no boundaries left.

Sunglasses- Another side effect of all the hormone injections is random crying episodes. I have found these episodes especially enjoyable and not at all embarrassing. Ok, I lie. I find them absolutely horrifying and terribly embarrassing. As a result, I highly recommend carrying a large pair of sunglasses with you wherever you go. That way you can pop them on when your hormones decide that crying in a grocery store, or on public transportation is a great idea.

So there you have it. My super-classy glossary of infertility. Have I missed anything? Do you have a few of your own that you think should be added to this list?? If so then feel free to add yours in the comments,,, or email me if you're too embarrassed to admit yours in public.

Getting Ready To Say No

2011-12-03T11:18:00.000Z

Thanks so much for all the comments regarding the baby shower invitation dilemma. I am leaning towards not going at this point and if I can overcome my guilt then I will not be attending. I don't know why I feel guilty about not going, but I do.

Perhaps it has to do with the fact that another mutual friend told me she won't be going either. I won't tell her story here, but basically she is fed up with the Mother to be (M2be). Like me, she feels that M2be isn't the friend we thought she was. In addition there have been some things that have happened between this friend and M2be that I wasn't involved with which resulted in very hurt feelings for our mutual friend.

The three of us, plus a couple of others who no longer live in the UK, were a very tight group at one point so this "slow unfriending" has been awkward for us all. Our mutual friend has done a much better job of disengaging from M2be than I have which has not gone unnoticed by M2be.

Our mutual friend feels that it would be hypocritical of her to attend the baby shower after all that has happened. So she let me know a few days ago that she won't come and will make her excuses. She let me know so I wouldn't be expecting to see her there, something I greatly appreciate.

I told her my dilemma with baby showers in general and she totally understands. In fact her response was like many of yours. She said that I should do what I feel is best and not worry about hurting anyone's feelings. She said that I should only do what I feel I can and nothing more.

This is where my guilt kicks in. Like many of my friends here in London, M2be is living in a foreign country far from family and friends. I can imagine that when she started trying for a baby she imagined her London baby shower filled with her closest new friends. Since then, two have moved out of the country and two of us are really not her close friends anymore. Even knowing that, she has chosen to invite the two of us who are still here.

I know it's not my fault about those who moved away, and it's certainly not my fault about what happened between her and our mutual friend. But I feel like our absence will be felt in a way that will hurt M2be's feelings. I hate hurting people's feelings. Yes, she is flying home to have a baby shower with her friends and family there, so it's not like this is her only shower,,,, but still the guilt fills me.

I am somehow stuck in this place where I try to please everyone when really I should focus more on myself. Since losing my son I'm much better at this, but the shower invitation issue proves that I'm not all the way there yet. I don't actually have to decline until I receive the actual invitation so I've got some time to prepare myself.

PS- Wow, seeing all this written down makes it look like a whole lotta drama! Ugh, I despise drama!

The Dreaded Baby Shower Invitation

2011-11-30T14:42:00.000Z

I knew it had to happen eventually. I've been invited to a baby shower. It's not the first one I've been invited to since losing my son. I had a friend who was due a month after I was and my son died just as her baby shower invitations were sent out. So in the midst of all the sympathy cards was that invite. Talk about a stab in the heart. Obviously I declined that one and everyone understood since it had only been a week since my son's death.

This one is different though. Partly because of who it's for, but mostly because it's been over a year now and I think people think I'm mostly "over it" now. Over it,,,, I actually laughed out loud when I typed that. As if I will ever be over the death of my firstborn son.... but that's another topic for another day.

I haven't received the actual invitation yet, just a save the date for mid-January. I guess the hostess wanted to reach out to everyone before the madness of the holidays (that's Christmas to you Brit's,,,, not vacation). Obviously I don't have to respond to a save the date, I just need to save the date. So for the moment, I have a reprieve on making the decision on whether to go or not. And it is a big decision.

You see, the last baby shower I went to was mine. I was 33 weeks pregnant, blissfully unaware of the ticking time bomb inside me. Blissfully unaware that my son was slowly being starved and deprived of oxygen by his placenta. Blissfully unaware that just a few short weeks later I would go in for an ultrasound and be told that his heart was no longer beating.

I was "all clear." My son was almost "cooked" and I would soon be bringing him home. My Mom and Grandmother had flown over from the US to attend. It was one of the happiest days of my life. My life was perfect that day,,, nothing could go wrong.

Until it did.

I'm not sure I'm ready to go to another baby shower just yet. A day filled with happy people, baby stories, and the hopes and dreams of the Mother to be. Of course she will be happy, she deserves to be. It's her day to feel special and be surrounded with nothing but positivity. To listen to other people's stories and well wishes. It should be her perfect day, one of the happiest of her life.

I'm afraid I might spoil all that.

After all, no one wants a Debbie Downer at her baby shower. That woman who's baby died 3 weeks after her own baby shower.

So that's my dilemma. I have no idea how I will react on the day. On the one hand I may be fine. I could be swept up in the happiness of the day. I could see this as a hurdle that I can overcome. I could suck it up and be there to support the Mother to be.

Or it could all go terribly wrong. I could have flashbacks and start freaking out. Or I could just start feeling really down and then feel like I'm stuck there trying to fake being happy. My presence could make the other guests feel uncomfortable. Maybe they will feel they can't be as happy for her because they don't want to hurt my feelings.

I know for a fact that they already feel like this. One friend even asked if I was happy for the Mother to be (M2be) a while back. She said she always felt weird asking M2be about her pregnancy in front of me in case that made me feel bad. I'm sure the baby shower will be slightly different because by then they will all know that I am pregnant, but still,,,, I don't want to be a damper on M2be's special day.

There is also the issue of who M2be is. I wrote about her before here and here. She was Friend A in the story. In a nutshell, we were close friends for a while but over time things started happening that made me question our friendship. As I got to know her, I learned things that made me feel like I couldn't trust her and maybe she wasn't such a good friend after all. Then she got pregnant and said some insensitive things which really hurt me.

As a result of this, I've really backed off her. I didn't bother to have a confrontation with her because I didn't think it would help. I've just gradually stopped calling her and emailing her. I still see her in group settings but not one on one. It's worked out very well. We are pleasant when we see each other and there is very little tension between us. Of course there's a little,,, but as predicted I think she thinks it's because I have a hard time dealing with her pregnancy.

If it were someone that I'm closer too I may have more of an incentive to try and suck it up and be the better person. Something that I think all of us baby loss mom's have gotten really good at. It's definitely a skill I wasn't expecting to become so adept at. But since it's someone I'm already feeling detached from, there is less motivation to take the risk.

But at the same time, I know I can't hide from baby showers forever and maybe now is the time to do it. To jump in the deep end and hope I can remember how to swim.

Ugh,,,, I really don't know what to do.

*Pouring my heart out today with Shell.

It's Hard To Be Happy When You're Terrified

2011-11-28T10:40:00.000Z

I seem to have some sort of bloggers block. There is plenty of stuff going on in my life these days but I can't seem to get them out of my head. Normally the words come freely but for some reason the past week I've had nothing to write about. I do know that I'm in a lot of denial about actually being pregnant and perhaps that's the problem.

My blog posts are mostly written in quick short bursts. Very train-of-thought with hardly any editing. I sit down and let the emotions and words flow out of me. Denial and repression make this more difficult. Because if you're trying hard to not think about things too much then there's not much left to write about.

We have told a few very close friends about this pregnancy. Each time the response is joy and happiness which I am not always able to reciprocate. One person actually asked me if I was happy about being pregnant again. My response was that it's hard to be happy when you're terrified. Which is not to say that I'm not absolutely thrilled to have another chance at a take home baby. I am, but it's hard to allow myself to go there just yet.

My natural response this time around is self-protection. Logically I know that even if I do "deny and protect" it won't hurt any less if things go wrong. I know that allowing myself to feel joy won't make it any more or less likely that something bad will happen. But at the moment I'm still feeling very guarded. It's almost as if keeping the news to myself and not starting to get prepared will somehow protect me and this baby from harm.

Just putting the pregnancy ticker on this blog page was a huge step for me. I actually got nervous before hitting the publish button. I have yet to submit my good news to LFCA (which is a great site if you haven't checked it out before) for fear that somehow it's still not real. I haven't bought any pregnancy or baby books yet either. My old books were tossed out when we lost our son. I just signed up for the babycentre weekly updates and it still feels weird.

I just can't seem to wrap my head around the fact that it is indeed happening. I am growing a baby in here.

I know I'm all over the place and perhaps that's to be expected. I also know that this baby deserves all my love and support and all the things I did for his/her older brother. So I need to get over this denial and start accepting what's happening. And perhaps even allowing myself to be happy about it without the stabs of fear that are accompanying it right now.

A Weekend Scare

2011-11-21T21:52:00.000Z

I am quickly learning that in my new normal as a pregnant woman I am completely paraniod. Both myself and The Hubby have to come to terms with our new, not so calm selves.

We had a scare over the weekend. I started spotting on Saturday night. Now I know that no 8 week pregnant woman wants to see blood on the toilet paper, but this really put me in a tailspin. I quickly called the emergency line at my fertility clinic and the nurse on the other line did her best to assure me that spotting is common and not necessarily a sign of impending doom. She went through the list of symptoms including cramping and I didn't have any of them. She advised me to take it easy and call back on Monday to schedule an ultrasound.

The spotting was done by Sunday morning but my paranoia was not. I was in a panic everytime I had to go to the bathroom. The Hubby was asking for "status reports" after every pee. "All clear?" he would ask me. Each time the answer was yes, but I couldn't believe this was now my life. Frantically checking the toilet paper and then screaming out the results to The Hubby who would be anxiously awaiting my answer. It would have been really funny if it wasn't so amazingly scary.

On Monday morning I called to my new OB (although they call them Consultants over here) to ask for an emergency scan. I had an appointment for next week but they happily pushed it up a week. I was a wreck all day waiting for the appointment. Even though I'm riddled with nausea, exhaustion, and a super sniffer I was so scared that something would be wrong. I worried that all these pregnancy symptoms were somehow in my head. My mind playing tricks on me.

Thankfully all is well. My doctor inserted Mr Wandy and within seconds reassured The Hubby and I that there was indeed a heartbeat. Frosty is fine and doing well. No sign of where the bleeding was coming from. He seems to think it's the Endometrin irritating my cervix. He wants me to stop taking it and is switching me to another form of progesterone.

So the good news is that the baby is fine. The bad news is that this new form of progesterone needs to be inserted rectally!! Yikes. So from now until the 13th of December I will be inserting a progesterone suppository up my butt twice a day. No fun! I thought my days of utilizing the "back passage" as they like to call it over here were over. But nooooooo.

If you've been following my blog for a while you will remember my reaction the last time I had to use suppositories. If not, take a quick read and enjoy the music video that makes me laugh everytime I see it. Oh, but it's not completely safe for work so you may want to wait until you get home.

Random Crying Jags

2011-11-18T10:30:00.000Z

So here's a pregnancy symptom I didn't have last time around.

Random crying jags.

I thought my days of randomly crying in public were over but apparently I was wrong. It's the strangest thing. I can be doing anything, riding the bus, watching tv, walking down the street, or even sitting on the toilet. Sometimes I've allowed my mind to wander to dangerous places... thinking about my son, or even worse, dreaming about this new pregnancy having a good outcome. Sometimes I'm not thinking about anything related to pregnancy or pregnancy loss. Just doing normal day to day things and BAM, the tears start.

Mostly they don't last long and mostly I can hold them back if I'm in public, but still it's driving me crazy. I'm sure it's just those lovely pregnancy hormones at work. The same ones that are making me tired and giving me that nausea that assures me I am in fact pregnant. But this one is making me feel a bit crazy.

I'm not sure if maybe it's just my fear and anxiety bursting through, or something else. But I wish it would stop. Because the tears and crying jags remind me of life shortly after losing my son. When I had no control over my emotions. When I was a slave to them. And I don't want to have to go back there,,,,, ever again.

I guess that's all for today, apologies for being brief and yet all over the place at the same time. What a mess I am.

Husbands Struggle Too

2011-11-14T17:08:00.001Z

This is harder than I thought it would be. Not just for me, but for The Hubby.

He keeps up a strong front most of the time and it's hard for me to read where he's at. We have a lot going on right now. In addition to this new pregnancy, my father in-law has dementia which is much worse than we thought. We know this because we just got back from a trip home and saw first hand just where he is. It's too much to go into here but The Hubby had to make some hard decisions while we were home and he didn't necessarily get the support from his siblings that I think he deserved.

So our trip home was very much an emotional rollercoaster. On the one hand we got the amazing news that I am pregnant again. On the other hand we were slapped in the face with the reality of life with dementia. By the time we got home we were both exhausted, physically and mentally. Add some work stress into the mix and the hubby is completely overwhelmed.

I knew he was stressed but had no idea how much until he shared his feelings with me the other day over breakfast. He is absolutely terrified that something is going to go wrong with this pregnancy. Apparently one of the reasons he's not sleeping (in addition to the jetlag) is because everytime I get up to pee he's worried I will have a miscarriage. Now I'm getting up at least once a night (sometimes two) to pee and had no idea that each time it sends him into a panic.

He also panics every time I call him. Each time he's about to answer the phone he's sure I'm calling with bad news. Of course I'm just calling with boring every day stuff and had no idea the sight of my name on his phone is having that effect on him.

The other night he was up much later than I was. Turns out he was looking through all our old pregnancy photos, old facebook posts, and back through the archives of my blog. He said he felt crazed, like he couldn't stop himself. He read the old posts, looked at the old photos, and cried.

It's as if he was driven to remember the pain. When I asked why he said that everytime he feels happy about this new pregnancy he instantly feels guilty. As if somehow being happy again is leaving our son behind. Like we're going to forget him and how sad we were when he died. We talked some more and cried a bit. I told him how glad I was that he shared his fears with me. He smiled and said, "Well now you have something to write about on your blog just in case you get writer's block." That made me laugh.

I wish I could take away his worry, but I can't. I wish he didn't have so much on his plate right now. My primary focus is dealing with the anxiety of this pregnancy, but he's doing a juggling act with chainsaws right now. I just wish that somehow I could step in and help him carry his burden. To lighten his load, even if only a little bit. So that he can sleep through the night without all the fear.

I completely understand where his fear is coming from and have been wondering the same thing myself. How can the happiness of this new pregnancy and the utter devastation of the last one live side by side? Is it possible to feel the joy and hope of this new life without forgetting the love and sadness we felt for the one we have lost? Are we somehow dishonoring our son by allowing ourselves the possibility of happiness again?

How do people manage pregnancy after loss?

I want to be happy about this but I don't ever want to forget about my son.
My firstborn.
Who we never got to take home.
Who we love dearly.

Is any baby going to be able to fill the hole he has left in our hearts? More importantly, do we want that hole filled?

pouring my heart out with shell

One Heartbeat!

2011-11-11T17:39:00.000Z

Today was our first ultrasound and we have a heartbeat!!

As I wrote yesterday, I was freaking out about this scan. Freaking out a lot! I was up until 2am because I couldn't sleep. So to see that heartbeat was such a relief.

The hubby and I were both nervous wrecks today. You could see the nervousness on our faces as we waited for my name to be called. Once we were called in and the scan began it got even worse. I could barely breathe as the nurse slipped Mr Wandy (who was wearing his rubber glove again) in to take a look.

Immediately I saw something, and told myself that was good. A let out a little breath at that point. The nurse then showed us around. I didn't really hear anything until she said, "And there's the heartbeat." At this point I started crying and shaking so then she couldn't see anything until I held still again. She checked out the blood flow and all the rest of the stuff and told us all looks well.

The hubby had been squeezing my hand the whole time and it's at this point that I realized his hand was shaking. He was crying too, which made me cry even harder. So there we were, both crying hysterically in the ultrasound room. Only this time they were happy tears. Such a difference from the last ultrasound we had.

So I'm officially 7 weeks pregnant. Estimated due date June 30th 2012 which seems like a lifetime from now.

I just hope and pray that this baby decides to stay for the long haul and is able to come home with us in June. I also hope that the hubby and I don't have nervous breakdowns during this pregnancy!

One Heartbeat Please

2011-11-10T14:52:00.000Z

Tomorrow I have an appointment for my ultrasound to see if there's a heartbeat.

I'm so nervous about it.

I'm trying not to be but I can't help it. I've been having ultrasounds throughout my fertility treatments. Looking at my uterus, looking at my ovaries, and checking my lining. But this time there is a baby in there. A baby who either will or will not have a heartbeat. A pregnancy that will either be determined to be viable or non-viable.

I am freaking out.

The last time I was in this situation was at 36 weeks with my son and I was told there wasn't one anymore. That's the day my whole life came crashing down around me. I've been trying to pick up the pieces ever since.

So now I feel like I'm back full circle. Looking for a heartbeat.

Again.

I feel like my whole life rests around whether there is a heartbeat or not. I'm trying to prepare myself to hear those awful words again,,, just in case. Like maybe if I prepare myself then it won't hurt as much. As if that's even possible.

I am trying so hard to be happy and excited about this pregnancy but all I feel right now is fear. I can hear the happiness and excitement in the voices of my family and the few close friends I have told. But I can't feel that way yet. Until I see that heartbeat tomorrow.

Then maybe I can breathe for a while.

So if you're the praying type I sure could use a few.

I'm Featured

2011-11-09T11:48:00.000Z

One of my posts is being featured over at Hello Grief. If you've been following for a while you may recognize it, if you're a new follower then this will be new to you. It's one I wrote back in May and I consider it one of my most honest and vulnerable posts. It may change the way you think of me.

This is the second time that one of my posts has been featured at this site. I am still surprised when other sites want to share my thoughts with their readers but I'm happy to think that they are helping others through their grief journey.

Check it out here if you like.

Finding My New Normal - A Year On

2011-11-07T11:25:00.000Z

Wow, I can't believe I've been blogging here at Finding My New Normal for a whole year now. Well, actually it's been a year and two days. The actual anniversary was on the 5th of November but I was on a plane flying over the Atlantic Ocean and was unable to post. I could have pre-planned something and have it scheduled to post on that day but I've been away visiting family and am not nearly that organized.

When I first started this blog I was a broken woman. My son had died and I was overcome with grief. Frozen in a lot of ways. We were getting ready to go home and visit the family. A trip that we did every year, except that this year was supposed to be different. We were supposed to be bringing our new baby for everyone to meet. But life had other plans for us.

Instead of bringing our new bouncy baby home, we were bringing his ashes home in a tiny urn. I still remember that feeling when I got the suitcase out of the closet to get ready to pack for that trip back home. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't pack for 2 people when I should have been packing for 3 people. That empty suitcase prompted my first ever blog post. And thus, Finding My New Normal was born.

It was rough going in the beginning. I was a total rookie to the world of blogging. Looking back I can see that I struggled to find my voice. Partly because writing down my thoughts was new to me, and partly because I just had too many thoughts to sort through. I was deep in the trenches of grief and filled with raw emotion. I can see it all in my early posts. The sadness, the anger, the devastation. It makes me cry to even skim through some of those early posts because it puts me right back there.

I've always written this blog for me, and in the beginning that's who was reading it,,,, me.

I didn't have any followers at first. For a long time I figured I wouldn't ever have any. I mean, who wants to read a blog about a dead baby?? If I had not lost my son I know I sure wouldn't have. But amazingly, this new version of me was hoping there were other women out there like me. So my search began to find some other BLM's (although I didn't know that's what we were called yet).

It's not easy to search for blogs,,,, did you know that? Especially when you have never read any blogs before. So my task was not an easy one. But somehow I managed to find a few women who were struggling like me. I stalked their sidebars and comment sections for others. And soon I had found a group of amazing women who were trying to move on with their lives after losing a baby. Women who understood how I felt. It was so nice to know I wasn't alone out there. I started following them, and to my surprise, they started following me back.

I have found so many amazing bloggers on this journey. In the beginning I connected most with women who had suffered a loss like mine. As time went on I reached out to my fellow infertiles for support as well. I have also connected with bloggers who aren't like me at all. Because we all struggle with something, and we all need support at times. I've found an amazing community here in bloggy land.

After a month or so of blogging I knew I was hooked. Inside my head all these emotions were flying around that I didn't know how to deal with. It was when I sat down to write that I was able to make sense of them.

It's almost like I have to take them out of my head and put them down on paper (or the computer screen) in order to sort them out. As a non-writer this concept amazed me. Not only was I able to figure out exactly how I was feeling, but I also got feedback from people who have walked in my shoes. I wasn't crazy,,, I was just grieving. I can't tell you how much that helped me.

A year on I am sitting in such a different place. A place I couldn't have even imagined a year ago when I was buried in the fog of my grief. I am still grieving my son of course. But it's not the overwhelming burden it once was. It's forced it's way into my life and found a way to fit in with everything else. I am able to feel joy and happiness again. I am able to have good days where I don't cry. I am able to understand that some days I still need to cry and that's ok too.

I am pregnant again. Wow, that brought out some tears,,, give me a minute or two to compose myself.

I am still in total shock about being pregnant again. It's still very early days and one thing I've learned is that a positive pregnancy test does not ensure a healthy take home baby. But I'm hopeful which is something I wasn't sure I could be after my loss.

So have I found my new normal yet? That really was the intended goal of this blog. To help me figure out what to do next. To figure out who to be next. To figure out how to live a life without my son.

I suppose in some ways I have. In other ways I've still got a long way to go. But life is about the journey, and this blog is

Beta #3 Is Good

2011-10-31T21:21:00.000Z

I'm still visiting family so no time to post or read any other blogs right now. I hope to have more time soon. But for now just a super quick update. Our third beta test is good so now we just wait a few weeks and hope for a heartbeat!!!

Still excited and still scared, but taking things one day at a time,,,, and today is a good day.

2nd Beta

2011-10-28T23:16:00.000+01:00

My second beta test was today and the numbers more than doubled! So I'm still pregnant. I have one more on Monday just to be sure but it's looking positive so far.

I am starting to believe that I may really be pregnant. But I know there's still a bunch of denial going on as well.

I feel speechless and wordless as to how I'm feeling. So it's a short post for today, but a good one.

Beta = Pregnant

2011-10-27T15:21:00.001+01:00

My first beta results are in. My results are 657 which the nurse says is excellent. As I have no idea what it's supposed to be (or not be) I am taking her word for it. I have to go in tomorrow for the second beta where they want to see that number go up.

So I'm pregnant! Wow,,,,, wow,,,, wow.!

Of course I'm still nervous and not wanting to fully believe it at this point. I know we have beta number two and then there's the first ultrasound where we look for a heartbeat. But I'm happy today. I'm going to try and take things in small steps and be happy as much as I can.

The hubby is much more scared and nervous than I am. But he was like that with our first pregnancy and that's before we knew that things could go horribly wrong at any time. So I'm expecting him to be a nervous wreck the entire time.

I'm so much more scared to share the news this time around. We told my parents of course because we are visiting them at the moment. My sister knows too because she called me yesterday to find out the results. But I kind of want to wait until beta #2 before sharing with my close friends who knew I was doing the FET.

I suppose that's one nice thing about being in the US visiting family. I'm far away from my London friends so I've got a bit more time to digest the news before sharing. I don't plan to make any kind of huge announcement right now,,, but the friends who have been there for me through the failed IVF and now this FET will be wanting to know how it went.

Wow, I'm pregnant again. I'm sure once the shock wears off I'll have lots of mixed feelings about the whole thing and lots of juicy material for blogging. But for now I'm just feeling happy, and that's a nice feeling.

*Oh, and I've updated my trying again timeline for anyone following along.

Still Positive

2011-10-24T09:32:00.000+01:00

I took another test this morning and saw those beautiful 2 pink lines. So as of this moment I'm still pregnant.

I'm starting to get a bit more excited,,,, but in a very cautious way. I won't feel like this is real until the beta test on Wednesday. Only 2 more days!!!

In the meantime I'm doing some last minute packing and we're off to the USA today. It will be nice to see the family and enjoy some warm weather. Well maybe not beach weather, but at least it will be warmer than London.

We have decided not to say anything to the family (or anyone else) until after Wednesday. No point in getting them all excited only to have the bubble burst by a bad beta. *Try saying that 3 times fast,,,, bubble burst by a bad beta. It sounds like one of those weird google search results we all get.

So I'm hopeful that this cycle will be a success!

Mindful that things can still go wrong.... but hopeful.

I Cracked

2011-10-22T17:04:00.000+01:00

I am in the midst of the 2 week wait after my frozen embryo transfer. I had every intention of not testing early this cycle. Last IVF cycle I waited until beta day to pee on a stick. As we all know, that one came out negative but I was proud of my willpower. But this time I just couldn't help myself. I had sticks over from last time and they were calling to me. So yesterday (which would be 8 days past a 5 day transfer) I did it.

Holy Crap-a-Moley

Wouldn't you know the darn thing turned positive??? Wow! Of course I then started feeling horribly guilty for not testing when the hubby was home. He hates when I test without him. I ponder not telling him and trying to get him to agree to test the next day and acting surprised.

But that only lasted for about 15 minutes before I realized there's no way I could keep this to myself. So I sent the photo to his phone telling him I'd been naughty. He called back instantly because apparently he couldn't see the wording clearly on his non-smart phone. We both said holy crap to each other a bunch of times (or maybe it was holy something else, I can't remember) and I cried just a little bit.

Wow! I'm in total shock.

Now I know it's early days still and a positive pee test doesn't always translate into a positive beta. So we're not telling a soul until after beta on Wednesday. I'm still pretty much in denial until I get those results as well. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't delighted to see the positive test result!

Jet-Lag And The 2 Week Wait

2011-10-18T23:18:00.000+01:00

I'm back from my transfer and fighting the jet-lag. It was a short visit to the US and I was just barely adjusting there and now I'm back and have to try and adjust back. Then next week on Monday I'm back to the US to see the family so I have to do it all over again. Although this time I will be going to the west coast so it's an 8 hour time difference. Not fun.

Today it's 5 days past my 5 day transfer and since I'm riddled with jet-lag I've got no idea if I'm feeling any real symptoms. I'm tired and hungry at all the wrong times which can easily be the time difference. I felt yucky after lunch today but that often happens to me when I'm adjusting to new time zones. So again, I have no idea if I feel any different.

I suppose it's silly playing this game with myself considering the last time I was pregnant I didn't feel any different until 7 weeks in. But like anyone in the 2WW I'm letting my mind play tricks on me. I suppose that just goes with the territory.

Beta is not until the 26th so I've got a ways to go. Oh, and I still don't know where I am going to be doing it yet. I don't have a doctor in California anymore and so the nurse at my US clinic is trying to find a lab where I can have it done. I just hope she can find someplace close to where we are staying.

So for now I'm just doing my injections and trying to live my life as normal as possible.

Rememberance Day

2011-10-15T02:25:00.000+01:00

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant loss remembrance day. We remember all babies born still, or whom we have carried but never met, or those we have held but could not take home, or the ones that came home but did not stay. I will be participating in the 7th annual Wave of Light and will be lighting a candle at 7pm in honor of all our lost angels, including my son.

Thanks to Small Bird Studios for creating this lovely image.

Just Me And My Frosty

2011-10-14T00:19:00.000+01:00

Today was my frozen embryo transfer day and I am now officially in my 2 week wait. It felt a lot like the last transfer day but with a few differences.

First, I was on my own, no hubby in sight. He had to be in a different country for business and couldn't make it this time.

Second, my RE wasn't the one doing my procedure. I was sitting in the lobby waiting to be called in. The nurse calls my name and brings me to the reception area and informs me I have a phone call from my RE. My heart dropped and I immediately thought the worst. But he was just calling to tell me he had a family emergency and couldn't be there to do the transfer. He wanted to let me know he was sorry and went over a few things with me. Phew, what a sigh of relief.

It was a bit strange getting ready for this transfer all by myself. I talked to the hubby on the phone right before I went in. I know he feels really guilty that he can't be with me this time. I do understand, but it was scarier on my own. I fought back the tears a bit as I put on the medical footies and undressed from the waist down (as you do). But I pulled myself together before any actual tears came.

The RE who did the transfer was very sweet. It hurt a bit more but that was probably because I was more tense this time. I laid on the table afterwards for about 30 minutes and then they sent me home with all the paperwork and a photo of Frosty.

So now Frosty and I are on bedrest. We took a nap and then caught up on some emails. Then we started watching an Entourage marathon. I somehow missed season 7 and figured this would be a great chance to catch up.

I do wish the hubby was here to keep me company though. It's just me and my Frosty,,,, but that's not such a bad thing now is it???

How Did I End Up In This Crazy Place?

2011-10-11T23:49:00.001+01:00

I sit here at the computer with a clean house and a fully packed suitcase. Tomorrow morning I leave for the airport.

I'm off to the good old US of A where I am set to pick up frosty and bring him/her home with me. Not in a suitcase or an additional seat, but inside me.

It's such a strange thing to think that frosty has been waiting for me since he/she was fertilized in August. Sitting in a straw in a lab, just waiting to be defrosted and placed into my womb. I can't even describe the feelings I have about flying halfway across the world to have an embryo transfer. It seems so strange and very "jet-set."

I suppose it's not unusual these days, but if anyone had told me 10 years ago that someday I would be flying from one country to another to try for a baby I would have told them they were crazy. Because everyone knows that sex gets you pregnant. Unprotected sex without a care in the world results in an accidental pregnancy and a cute bouncy baby at the end.

At least that's the story they tell us. That's the story we see on TV programs and read about on the news. It happens to everyone around us, our neighbours, our friends, and even a few of our fellow classmates from the 11th grade.

It happens so often that we don't even think about it not happening.

We assume.

But for some of us things do not go quite as smoothly. We are responsible and use protection. We focus on our careers and being the best we can be. We get married and still we wait.

Until we have enough money.
Until things at work are settled.
Until we can buy a house.

And then when we are ready, we go off the pill and wait for our "accidental pregnancy." And we wait, and we wait, and we wait.

At some point we realize it's just not going to happen that way for us. So we start researching and asking questions. We make doctors appointments and are subjected to test after test. Some of us get answers, but many of us do not.

Unexplained infertility,,,,, will someone explain what the hell that is supposed to mean?

The rest of the journey takes us through uncharted territory. We meet with doctors we didn't know existed. We learn tons of medical terminology and jargon. We take hormones like they are candy, or like they are recreational drugs, or both. We hope and we pray and some of us get good news. Others of us hope and pray and get bad news.

In my case I got almost all the way to the finish line only to have my hopes shattered at 36 weeks by those 6 terrible words. "I'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat."

But somehow, despite all the bad news and setbacks we manage to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and throw ourselves right back out there. To a place where we are so vulnerable and so desperate for a good outcome that we will try almost anything.

For me, this means flying across the Atlantic because the don't have a good donor egg program in the country where I live. It means expensive, long, last minute flights for transfers. It means adjusting my injection times to match whatever timezone I'm in. It means working with 2 fertility clinics, one here and one there. It means communicating with my RE and Nurse via email and long distance phone calls.

Some days I wonder how I ended up in this crazy place. Most days I'm just hoping it's all worth it in the end. The day when I not only get pregnant, but I stay pregnant, and I get to bring home a living baby at the end of it all.

So my bag is packed, my boarding pass is printed, and I'm ready to go. Because this is my life now, and all I want is a healthy, living baby.

Mr Wandy Gave Me The Finger

2011-10-10T14:58:00.000+01:00

As I briefly mentioned in a previous post, my second ultrasound and blood work for my frozen embryo cycle went well and I'm all set for my embryo transfer this Thursday. What I failed to share with you was what exactly happened at the clinic that day.

As many of you know, they check your lining using an internal ultrasound machine which I like to call Mr. Wandy. If you haven't had the pleasure of an appointment with him I will try to describe what he looks like.

He is long and skinny so he can fit just where he needs to go. He is white and plastic with a cord coming out of the bottom that attaches to the machine. He looks a bit like a curling iron without the metal barrel. He is usually covered with a condom and a bit of lube on the top. The first time I saw him I was a bit freaked out, but now I'm such a pro I hardly notice he's in the room.

The scan I had last week started off like any normal scan. I am called by the nurse and follow her to the exam room. She chats with me about the weather while I undress from the waist down and assume "the position." It's at this moment that I notice something is different about Mr Wandy.

Instead of being covered by a condom, he is being covered by a blue rubber glove. To be more specific, he is being covered by the middle finger of this blue rubber glove. There is a bit of lube squirted on top of the middle finger. The rest of the fingers and the thumb are flopping around limply while the middle finger stands at attention.

Now I'm assuming they used the glove because they were out of condoms. But I do have to say that it felt a bit strange being fingered by Mr. Wandy.

A Strange Patchwork Of Emotions

2011-10-07T11:18:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I went in for my second ultrasound and blood test for my FET (that's frozen embryo transfer). Everything looks great. I've got a good triple-stripe lining and my hormone levels are good too. So I was given the go ahead to book my very expensive, last-minute flight to the US for my transfer.

It's scheduled for next week, Thursday the 13th. Exactly 1 year and 2 months after my son was born still. The significance of this date is not lost on me. I swear, you couldn't plan these things if you tried.

It's such a tricky thing trying for another baby while still mourning the one you've lost. Dates and milestones blend together in a strange patchwork of emotions. Where feelings of hopefulness exist side by side with feelings of despair. Where a simple date on the calendar can represent both the worst day of your life and the potential for a miracle.

I'm still working on the balance of hopefulness and despair. Perhaps there is never a balance. Perhaps there is never a way to work out feeling both sets of emotions at the same time. Perhaps we all just do the best we can to move forward and try not to trip over our feelings.

At the moment I'm trying to focus on my hope. I do believe that mindset can affect fertility and I want to give this cycle the best possible chance of success. I just hope I can manage it.

Remembering

2011-10-05T22:50:00.000+01:00

Thank you so much to the amazing Carly Marie for creating this beautiful photo in honor of all our babies.

I am remembering my son today and always.

Frosty Update

2011-10-03T11:57:00.000+01:00

My FET is moving right along. For those of you not entrenched in the world of IVF lingo, FET means frozen embryo transfer. I call mine frosty because it sounds cuter than FET and I try to avoid too many abbreviations and acronyms because I start to confuse myself at times.

No non-doctor should have to know this many medical terms,,, but alas that's life in the day of an infertile.

I've been injecting myself like a trooper and the poor hubby has been enduring the mood swings that go along with it. In a few days I will go back in for a date with Mr. Wandy (the internal ultrasound wand that gets inserted "you know where") to check my lining. *Must remember to shave my legs before that one.

As long as my lining and hormone levels are good then I can book my flight to the US to be reunited with Frosty. So if all goes well I'm about a week and a half away from my embryo transfer. I'm getting excited!

Wrestling With The Sad

2011-09-30T11:36:00.000+01:00

It's a lovely day outside and I have absolutely nothing planned. This warm weather will only be here for a limited time before the country is snapped back into a cold grey winter. Yet I seem to have no motivation to get off the couch and do something. Instead I am wrestling with the sad.

This happens to me from time to time. The sad creeps in and tries to grab a hold of me. It extends it's warm arms and reaches out for me. "Stay here for a while. Let me hold you. There is no need to do anything but just lay here today," it tells me. It coaxes me with it's embrace. It wants to lay with me in silence and in tears. It wants to take me over.

So I fight it and wrestle with it and try not to allow it to win. I make plans with people and do my best to laugh and joke and have a good time. Keeping busy is a good strategy for wrestling with the sad. But it's a sly bugger and it lays in wait. It waits for days like this when I didn't make plans. It waits for a quiet moment to begin it's seduction once more.

"Lay with me, cry for a bit, hide under the covers and don't come out. Stay in your pj's for the day, eat a few snacks, and watch some TV. Before you know it, this day will be over and you can try again tomorrow to be a part of the outside world. But for today just stay with me."

I am trying very hard to fight the sad today. I know that I need to get up and out and spend some time in the sunshine. I just haven't figured out how,,,,,,, yet.

Pop Goes My Bubble

2011-09-28T17:14:00.002+01:00

I think sometimes I float around in a bubble of denial. I convince myself that I'm happy and I'm doing better.

I'm functioning at a pretty high level.
I'm getting out and doing things.
I'm making new friends.
I'm not crying every day. Well maybe that one is a lie but I'm not crying as much.
I'm injecting myself with needles every third day with ease.
I'm somehow managing to juggle regular life with my ongoing frozen embryo cycle.
I'm somehow managing to control my grief and not let the fear of a potential new pregnancy paralyze me.

It's all going swimmingly until something comes into contact with my bubble. It's very fragile to start with so it doesn't take much.

POP!

That's the sound of my bubble bursting.

That's what happened to me last night.

I went out to an event with my women's club. It was a fun, social event. Everyone was busy chatting about being back in town and getting back into the swing of things. Soon the conversation turned to children.

I sat listening to people talking about their new play dates and all the new friends they are making through their children. Someone was talking about the holidays and having a lunch and just letting all the kids run around and play. Talking about all the fun things there are to do in London with kids.

As I sat listening I suddenly felt like they are living on a different planet than I am. Or maybe just a different dimension. Like in those science fiction shows where there are multiple time lines and everyone is existing in a different one.

I live in the same town as they do. I attend many of the same social gatherings as they do. But somehow I am still left out of a massive part of life. There is a whole part of the world where I have no place. It's the place where parents and their living children are. It's a place where I am completely left out.

I'm never invited to play dates or children's birthday parties where I can sit and drink wine and gossip while my son plays with the other children. I don't do the school run and chat with the other Moms at the school gates. I am unable to make new friends at my child's school. I don't have big parties where all the kids run around in the back garden.

Why? Because I don't have a living child. Because I don't fit. Because I have yet to be granted membership into the Mommy and Daddy Club. Sure, I'm a member of the Baby Loss Mom's Club but who wants to join me there?? No one!

All this happy chatter made me realize just how much of life I am missing out on. How much of life I'm excluded from. So in addition to my grief and anxiety for this upcoming cycle, I am now feeling very alone.

Alone in a crowd. Which is not a very nice place to be.

*Pouring my heart out with Shell over at Things I Can't Say.

Out, Damned Spot!

2011-09-26T15:06:00.000+01:00

No, it's not stain removal I'm talking about it. It's spots. The kind that appear on your face. In the US we call them pimples but here in the UK they are called spots. I like the term because it makes them sound much more like the unwanted visitors they are.

What is the deal with all these spots/pimples on my face??? It's bad enough that I have to deal with the emotional side effects of the IVF hormone injections but this too? Seriously, it's just not right. I am way too old to be dealing with this. I think it should be illegal for these nasty things to appear on the face of anyone over 30!

It's like I'm going through a second puberty. Except that I've already got my period, my boobs, and all the extra fabulous body hair. So I'm stuck with the moodiness and the pimples. Sounds sexy doesn't it? I'm sure the hubby would agree with you but he's way to scared of me to admit it.

This sucks!

*I thought I'd go all literary with the title to raise the level of this post. Not sure it worked though.

Good Thing I've Got These

2011-09-22T18:39:00.000+01:00

My frozen embryo cycle is underway and I'm back on the del Estrogen injections. I've only done a few but I'm already feeling the hormones.

It's amazing how much more emotional a few cc's of estrogen can make me.

It's the crying that bothers me the most. The smallest thing can set me off. And as usual it doesn't matter where I am, I can cry just as easily in public as I can in private.

It's so annoying!

Good thing I carry these around with me.


Chanel makes everything better!

If you've gotta hide your red puffy eyes and tears at least you can do it in style, right??

Finding Hope In The Strangest Of Places

2011-09-20T16:27:00.000+01:00

Sometimes life sends you a sign. A signal of hope. Sometimes you notice it right away, and other times it takes a bit longer. I happen to be a bit slower than the average girl so for me these signs can take a while to reveal themselves. In this particular case, it took me about a month.

During my first donor egg IVF cycle I went to Barcelona as a way to distract myself during my 2 week wait. I was very hopeful and dreaming of my rainbow baby.

For those of you not familiar with the term, a rainbow baby is the baby you have after a loss. There are many theories about why they're called rainbow babies. One idea is that they bring the color back into your life after a loss. Another is that they are called rainbow babies because grief is like a storm and this new baby is like the rainbow that happens afterwards.

Either way, I love the term and that particular week my mind was very much on the possibility that I could indeed be pregnant with mine.

I did quite a bit of sightseeing while I was there because the hubby had to work and I was on my own. I took lots of photos because that's what I do. I normally try to have either myself of the hubby in the photos but this time as I was on my own I just took photos of things.

I particularly enjoyed the Palau Güell which is a house in Barcelona that was designed by the famous architect Antoni Gaudi. If you haven't visited I highly recommend it. The entire house was amazing but I was particularly taken by the chimneys on the roof. Here are a few photos of them so you can see what I mean.

Curved rooftop.

They are all done in tile or rocks.

All different styles and shapes.

Perhaps you can see where I'm going with this story??

They are very intricate and all very different. I absolutely loved them. In fact, I loved them so much that I bought a small replica of one in the gift shop. They sell almost all of these in the shop but I didn't want to go crazy so I just got one.

This one.

I'm sure you've figured it out by now, but at the time I got this I was still clueless.

This was my favorite chimney so this is the one I bought. I got it home and even though I unpacked, I kind of forgot about this and left it in the bag from the gift shop.

As you probably know, that IVF cycle was a bust. So we're trying again in October with our frozen embryo.

The other day I was doing a bit of tidying up and noticed the bag sitting on the counter. I happily opened the bag to see what was inside it. It's kind of like when you find money in the pocket of a coat you haven't worn in a while. I was so happy to see my purchase from my trip. I took the replica of the chimney out of the package and placed it on top of my fireplace.

As I sat on the couch admiring my purchase, it hit me. It was a rainbow!! Of all the chimneys to choose from I had bought the one with the rainbow on it. And I hadn't even realized I was doing it.

I told you I was kind of slow.

So in my fog of dreaming of rainbows I had bought one of my very own. Opening that bag and seeing it has given me a renewed sense of hope. Ever since then I have been dreaming of my rainbow baby again.

So life sent me a sign and it took me a while to see it, but I get it now.

Better late than never I suppose.

The Public Face

2011-09-17T10:46:00.000+01:00

We all know that face. The one we put on when we're not at home. The smiling happy face that portrays someone who is doing great.

She has it all together.
She's coping well with her loss and grief and disappointment.
She's handling things with such dignity.
She's going to be ok.

Some days that face fits comfortably. Other days it just feels like one big lie.
On those days I wish I could just rip it off and scream at the top of my lungs.

"I'm not ok today!"
"I feel like crying and I know that when I start I won't be able to stop."
"I wish you would ask me how I'm doing and not be shocked and horrified if I start to cry."
"I wish I didn't have to keep pretending to you all that I'm doing ok."
"I'm tired of hurting all the time, I just wish it would stop."

But I don't say any of these things out loud. Because for reasons I can't explain I need my public face.

I am compelled to show strength. It's the only way I feel comfortable when I'm out in public. As much as I'd love to go around town a crying mess all the time (and I have, examples here and here), it's not an experience I'm comfortable with.

I've never been comfortable being that person who cries and everyone in the room hugs her until she feels better. I've never been one of those people who needed lots of advice and help getting through her day. I'm just not that person.

I need my public face. I wear it like armor. Not just to convince others that I'm ok, but to convince me that I'm ok. If I can manage even a few hours of "normal" each day then maybe I can actually get there someday??

Fake it until you make it??

Who knows? Perhaps it's something I can explore if I ever decide to go back to therapy.

How about you? Do you have a public face? Does it work for you or leave you feeling exhausted?

The Elephant In The Room

2011-09-16T15:26:00.003+01:00

It's so nice when all my friends come back from their summer holidays. Life as an expat reminds me very much of my college/university days in that respect. Some people go back home for the summer and others stay around but travel quite a bit. So it's hard to connect with people because you never know who's in town. But once September rolls around everyone comes back and it's time to reconnect.

It's a bit strange to see everyone again.

To see who got a great summer tan.
To see who got a new haircut.
To see all the cute new clothes someone bought back in the US.
To see who is now pregnant. Ugh!

New pregnancies are super exciting, but for me this type of conversation is soooooo painful. I smile and nod and ask all the right questions, but inside I just wish we could change the subject.

It's harder because I haven't told many people that we are trying for another baby. Only a handful of people know and I'd rather keep it that way for now. So this makes these conversations even harder for me because when people ask what I'm up to I have to partially lie and say not much. If only they knew. But I don't want them to know and so I feel like I'm hiding something. I hate feeling like that.

It's a bit easier for me to hide our efforts because NO ONE asks. Don't get me wrong, they want to know. I know this because my close friends tell me that they get asked all the time if I'm going to try again. I'm actually surprised sometimes to learn who is making these enquiries. It's not always the people I would expect.

But no one would dare ask me.

Because I'm the woman whose baby died.

And you don't dare ask her things like that because you may make her cry.

So at least I don't have to lie directly.

But it makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes.

Because I can see the question in their eyes.
It's on the tip of their tongues.
If only they had the nerve to ask it.
If only they could figure out a way to make the question seem casual.
If only they could bring up something that would make me start talking about it.
But they don't.
They never do.

Instead I see them struggling to find something else to talk to me about. When all the while they are just hoping that I bring it up. It's the big elephant in the room. And since I'm not talking about it, they aren't either.

I hate that feeling.

Frosty The Embryo- I'm Coming To Get You!

2011-09-14T15:18:00.000+01:00

The bad news was that my first donor egg IVF cycle did not result in me being pregnant. The good news was that we had one embryo to freeze. Obviously I had hoped that our little frosty could be used as a sibling for embryo #1, but as it turns out frosty was just waiting patiently for me to return to claim him/her.

My frozen cycle is in full swing. I went off the pill last Friday and my auntie flo was a good little girl and arrived on Monday,,, right on schedule. If there's one thing I can always count on, it's AF, she's one of the most reliable things in my life.

Today was my baseline ultrasound (on day 3 of my period,,,, yuck) and blood work. They told me my lining looks good and if the blood work comes back fine then I'm back on the injections tomorrow. Not that I'm looking forward to injecting myself again. But the injections mean progress, and progress is good.

At the moment the transfer is scheduled for October 13th. I'm hoping my body responds like it should so I don't have any more delays. The only crappy part is that the hubby has a work trip scheduled for the week of the 13th so I'll be going to the US on my own this time.

So get ready frosty, I'm coming to get you!

I'm Still Here

2011-09-10T10:34:00.000+01:00

But I've got houseguests and haven't had time to post or read blogs for a few days now.

Super quick update on my frozen cycle. Took my last birth control pill yesterday so now it's just a wait for auntie flo and then we're off!!

Buying His Balloon

2011-09-06T10:37:00.001+01:00

It's a simple task, buying a balloon. People do it every day. It's a simple task, except when it's a balloon that you plan to release in honor of your stillborn son.

I knew it wasn't going to be an easy thing to do, so I had the hubby come with me. I was in full denial/distraction mode. I was just going to walk into the shop and buy a balloon.

That's all.

Simple.

I take a deep breath and walk up to the counter. "I need to get a helium balloon for a little boy's birthday." The woman asks me his age and then pulls out a stack of them, all with different designs and characters on them. I am completely overwhelmed, it never occurred to me that there would be so much choice. I tell myself to focus and remind myself to breathe.

"What does he like?" This is the question the woman asks me, noticing my hesitation.

My heart breaks with a smash, and a crash, and a thud. I feel like someone is wringing my insides with their hands. My mouth goes dry and my eyes fill with tears.

"I don't know," I tell her.

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.

I don't know what kind of balloon he would like because he is dead and he can't tell me. So I have to guess. No one should ever have to guess what kind of balloon her son would like.

"This one will be fine," I tell her.

Hand in hand, the hubby and I walk out of the store holding our balloon and trying not to cry on the walk home.

*Pouring my heart out with Shell at Things I Can't Say

If At First You Don't Succeed

2011-09-01T10:09:00.001+01:00

Try, try your frozen embryo. : )

That's right, I've finally gotten dates for my frozen embryo transfer. I had really wanted a September transfer because it fits better with my schedule, but alas the clinic doesn't have any dates in September left. Talk about a busy place. So October the 13th it is.

I'm back on the birth control pill again which I will take from now until September 9th. Then I go off it. My baseline ultrasound and blood work are on September 14th and I begin my del estrogen injections on the 15th.

As I mentioned in a previous post, cycling in October is not ideal. We've got a trip home to the US planned for the end of the month which we cannot change. We've already pushed it back twice and if we don't go then, we won't be able to go based on the hubby's work travel schedule. So this means it will be time for my beta test when I'm back at home.

Not ideal, but that's the way it goes and I am going to make the best of it. I am trying to go into this cycle with a renewed sense of cautious optimism. I don't think I'm capable of not being at least a little bit hopeful. I could pretend I wasn't hopeful, but I'd be lying to all of you and to myself. As many times as I've tried and failed, there's always this little bit of me who thinks, "this could be the time it works."

So here I go. This could be the time it works!

When Wearing Underwear Over Your Clothes Isn't Funny.

2011-08-29T13:18:00.002+01:00

Picture this, you see an elderly man walking down the road. He is carrying a bag from a supermarket containing ice cream. He is wearing trousers, his pajama top, and his underwear,,,, over the top of his trousers. Sounds like a really funny story right? A grown man walking around with his underwear over his clothes. If you heard this story about a stranger you would probably laugh out loud.

Except for us, it's not funny at all.

This man is my father in law. He suffers from dementia.

The hubby got the call last night from his brother telling him the news. Apparently my mother in law noticed that he had left the house. She had no idea where he was. The fact that he was out was not unusual because he loves to walk and wander around town. He takes "walks" just about every day. But this time was different because she had not heard him leave the house. He was gone for a long time and she was getting worried about him.

I can only imagine her shock when he finally returned home happy as can be with his newly purchased ice cream.

Part of her I am sure was relieved that he was OK.
Part of her I am sure was horrified that he had been walking around in such a state.
Part of her must be wondering what the people working at the store where he bought his ice cream must have thought about an 84 year old man wearing his pajama top and underwear over his clothes walking around their shop. *I wonder about this part myself.

My heart is breaking today for the hubby. This is not the kind of news you want to get about your father. Especially when you live on a different continent and can't just pop over to see him. It's been a couple years since he was able to hold a conversation over the phone so the hubby can't even call him. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for him.

We all know in theory how dementia goes. But to see this happening to a parent is not theoretical. It's real, and it's happening, and it's not going to get better. It's only going to get worse.

I only wish there was something I could do to help.

*Pouring my heart out with Shell.

The One Where I End A Friendship?

2011-08-26T23:21:00.000+01:00

Life as an expat has isn't always easy. You move far away from family and friends. You have to learn a new culture and in some cases a new language. You are desperate for any connection to home. As a result, in most countries, the expat community is a very close knit one. Bonds are formed fast and quick.

Oh, you're from my country?? Oh, you like drinking wine? Oh, you are free for lunch on Tuesday?? All these things can be the basis for the beginning of a friendship. Expats are like college freshmen, searching for new connections far from home. We cling to each other like long lost family members. Any connection, no matter how slim, warrants invitations and hopes for the future.

We are all lost souls looking for connection, and we cling to each other. We form friends in fast-forward. Skipping the normal getting to know you process and vetting by other friends. After all, most of us have no other local friends. We need each other in a way that no one else can understand unless they have been a foreigner in a strange land.

As a result an acquaintance can quickly rise up the ranks to become your BFF. You form an intense intimacy that doesn't exist in many places beyond college and summer camp.

At first it feels great. You are welcomed to your new community with gusto. You get invited to parties and lunches. You feel like people want to get to know you. You form fast connections and feel much less homesick.

But what happens after the flush of new friendship wears off? What happens when you really get to know your new friends? What if you decide that you don't really like them after all? What do you do then?

That my friends in bloggyland is the dilemma I am currently facing. I have been an expat for almost 6 years now and have seen many new friends come and go. I am familiar with the idea that as an expat you are constantly making new friends to replace the ones who move away. But in all my years I've not been in the situation I find myself in now.

How do I extricate myself from a friendship that I no longer want to be in? I recently told you all about this person. Probably not everything, but if you read my previous post you will get an idea of what I'm talking about.

I made friends with this person shortly after finding out I was pregnant with my son. She was there through it all, and now she has let me down. Not just in the ways I've written about, but in other ways as well. Not being kind to people I consider friends. Not being the kind of person I thought she was.

I don't think I want to be friends with her anymore. But it's complicated by the fact that we're part of a very small community. A community that talks and gossips.

I hate drama. The last thing I need is for her to go around telling people that I cut her off because I couldn't handle that she was pregnant. That has nothing to do with it. Sure, the timing is bad,,,,, but the truth is that this was coming long before she shared her news with me. But to end the friendship now, I just know she would think it was due to her pregnancy.

I know, I know,,,, you will tell me that I should have an honest conversation with her and tell her how I feel. Trust me, if I thought that she would listen or be even the slightest bit receptive I would give it a shot. But I know her... she's very defensive and does not respond well to criticism.

In no time flat my feelings would get twisted in a way to make her the victim and me the crazy lady whose baby died and can't be happy for anyone else. This is not what I want. So I've got some decisions to make.

How to extricate myself without causing unnecessary drama?? Is that even possible?? Ugh,,,, It's too much to even think about right now.

Thanks for listening.

Delays

2011-08-25T13:23:00.000+01:00

I think one of the things I hate most about infertility (besides the obvious) is that everything takes so much longer than you think it will. Pauses, and delays, and waiting,,,, it's enough to drive a girl crazy.

When we were first informed about our negative pregnancy test the nurse said there was no medical reason to have to wait. She said we could start our frozen cycle with our frosty as soon as my period arrived.

Awesome!! Some semi-good news for once.

Not so fast there missy! It seems that there may be a delay.

I get an email from the nurse a couple of days ago saying the clinic is busy and they may not be able to fit me in until mid-October but she is still trying for an earlier date. Needless to say I am not at all pleased by this news. The hubby and I have a pretty packed schedule and cycling in September would be so much more convenient.

We have already pushed back our trip home to see the family twice and if we cycle in mid-October then I will have to do my beta test somewhere in California,,, where I don't currently have a fertility clinic. Ugh! Plus I really don't want to be getting the news while we're traipsing around the state visiting various family members.

I can't imagine I will take a second negative nearly as well as I took the first and don't think the family really wants to be around a moping crying me. Not to mention that the hubby could potentially find himself trapped in a car with a moping crying me for hours on end as we drive ourselves like ping pong balls from one family members house to the next.

I know I'm being very glass half empty here and it's possible that the cycle will work and I will get a positive test. But even then I'd rather not be staying with various family members when I get the news. I want to get the news at home, where I am comfortable, where I will have time to process the outcome before being bombarded with all that family time.

So I fired back an email saying that I really need to cycle in September. I have not yet heard back which I'm hoping means she is still out there fighting my corner and trying to get me a better date. I assume that if there was no flexibility then I would have already gotten a no in response.

So I cross my fingers and hope for the best. I just hate all this waiting!

Are You There New Normal? I'm Still Trying To Find You.

2011-08-22T17:24:00.000+01:00

Come out come out where ever you are...... no seriously, stop hiding... ok this isn't funny anymore, just tell me where you are so I can find you already.

I tweeted this last night and it hit me that it would be a great opening for a blog post. Poetic in a way, and yet so very much how I'm feeling right now.

It's been a whole year now since my son died and was born. A whole year. I've been through a full year of milestones now, lived through all the "firsts." A whole year navigating my way through the fog that is grief. In a way it's an accomplishment, but I'm left asking myself where am I now?

The main reason I started writing this blog was to try and figure it all out. How could I possibly live without him? What would a life without my baby be like? How would I manage normal day to day things? How would this change my relationship with the hubby? So many questions to muddle through and no guidebook to help me figure it all out.

As I have said over and over again, I loved my old life. I was happy and healthy and babies didn't die. When I heard those terrible words (there's no heartbeat) from the doctor I knew life would never be the same.

I knew I would have to grieve and that things would be different but I did NOT want my entire life to fall apart.
I knew that I would be sad for a while but I did NOT want to be completely devastated all the time.
I was absolutely determined to get my life back. And not just any kind of life,,,, but a life where I wasn't crying in public and falling apart at the slightest things.

So a year on how am I doing on my quest for a new normal? I've had lots of moments where I felt like my entire life had fallen apart. I've had lots of moments where I was completely devastated all the time. I've had lots of moments where I cried in public both with and without the shield of my sunglasses.

But I've also had happy moments. Moments when I felt hopeful. Moments when I had fun with my friends. Moments when I was so in love with the hubby I thought I would burst. Moments where for just a while I forgot that my son died and just allowed myself to experience joy.

Some days I think I'm doing pretty well. Other days it's like I'm right back at the beginning. Days when I am hit with a flashback out of nowhere. A day like yesterday.

Last night the hubby informed me that some of his employees will be in London for a meeting in a few weeks time. His team is scattered across several countries so they only get together a couple of times a year. For years we have invited them to our home on one of the nights for dinner. We try to impress them with some good old American food. Usually BBQ chicken and corn on the cob. I used to make my "famous" chili for them which was an absolute favorite all around.

I used to make chili for them. In fact I made chili for them the night before I found out that my son had no heartbeat. You see, we were supposed to host them all for dinner that night after my scan. I had bought a bunch of chicken and spent hours making the chili the day before because we all know that chili tastes better on day 2.

So immediately after we get the news that our lives have been shattered into a million pieces we have to call his team and tell them they can't come over for dinner that night. When we get home I'm faced with a HUGE pot of chili. What on earth am I going to do with all this chili now? Neither of us were hungry that night as I packed my bag in preparation for my C-section which was scheduled for the next day. So the pot sat uneaten in my fridge until my lovely friends came over to clean out the nursery and baby stuff. I told them they could eat it but I've always suspected they dumped it down the sink.

So last night when the hubby suggested having them over again I knew what was coming. "They really want some of your chili this year," he tells me. Apparently they love it so much that it's been specially requested. I'm not sure if it's the timing of this visit to the one last year, or the memory of making the chili itself,,, but I totally lost it.

Hysterical crying about chili! *Yes, about chili.*

"I can't make chili for them," I tell him. At first he doesn't realize why,,, because of course he had forgotten about the chili. But not me. Apparently chili is now a trigger for me. I realized that I haven't made chili since my son died. And I'm certainly not going to make it again, in August, for the same people as the night before my life fell apart.

So how's that new normal going??? I'm not sure just yet. I feel like I take 2 steps forward and then 1 step back. It's frustrating sometimes, but I try to be gentle with myself. After all, if I really want the life I love back then I have to start by loving myself,,, right?

**And apparently in my new normal I no longer make chili.

Just Added- Trying Again Timeline

2011-08-21T14:06:00.000+01:00

I write about a lot of things on this blog. It's all a bit of a brain dump as I jump freely from one topic to another.

I realize that this can make it hard to keep up sometimes. So I've added a tab at the top to keep track on my donor egg IVF journey. A timeline of where I'm at and where I've been.

So if you're a new follower and want to know how I got here you don't have to wade through all my other posts to figure it all out.

Although I do hope you will still read them at some point. Just saying! : )

Here's a link to the tab, or you can just click on the words Trying Again Timeline near the top of my page, just next to My Story.

Balloonapalooza

2011-08-20T17:28:00.000+01:00

On Saturday the 13th we honored the memory of our son with a balloon release. It was quite an emotional day for us and I was touched and honored that so many of our friends and family (both in real life in in the bloggy world) wanted to join in. I wanted to share some of the balloon photos that I received.

I love that they were sent from all over the world in honor of my son. I hope he got them all!

When Newly Pregnant Friends Say Stupid Things

2011-08-18T18:21:00.000+01:00

What do you do when someone close to you says something completely insensitive? That's the question I've been asking myself ever since my lunch with the girls today.

I had a lunch scheduled today with three friends, two who I know very well and one who I am just getting to know. It's been planned for a while now and even though I did just get the bad news yesterday that my donor egg IVF cycle was a bust, I was looking forward to it.

To help make this story make sense I'm going to give them nicknames and also give you a bit of background.

Friend A- Is a close friend. She's been with me through my pregnancy and the death of my son. She knows all about my struggles with infertility and the fact that I was doing an IVF cycle. She knew I had my beta test yesterday but I had not told her the results yet. She is also newly pregnant and I knew but the 2 other ladies did not. I am absolutely thrilled and happy for her.
Friend B- Is also a close friend. She met me after my son died but is well aware of my loss and my struggles with infertility. She also knew about my IVF cycle. Unlike friend A, she already knew my test results were negative because I told her a few hours after I found out. She is an infertility veteran as well. She now has two beautiful children but only after years of struggling.
Friend C- Is new to town and we are all just getting to know her. She does not have any children. We know through a mutual friend that she has had an ongoing struggle with infertility. Apparently it is a very sensitive subject and she has never spoken with any of us about it.

So basically you've got 3 infertiles and 1 newly pregnant fertile sitting at a table. What could possibly go wrong??

Anyway, because I don't know Friend C very well I didn't want to talk about my failed IVF cycle in front of her. Partly because I know she has her own issues with fertility, but mostly because it's private and I don't share my struggles with just anyone. So conversation during this lunch was mostly small talk and chit chat. Not that there's anything wrong with that,, in fact sometimes it's nice to simply enjoy light hearted conversation.

Near the end of the meal, Friend C left the table to "powder her nose." I took this opportunity to tell Friend A about my negative pregnancy test. She expressed her sympathy and asked how I was doing and what we're going to do next. I quickly told her about our frosty and how we can try again as soon as I get my period this month. Friend C came back to the table and we changed the subject.

A few minutes later Friend A decided to share her pregnancy news with Friend B and Friend C. Of course they were happy to hear this wonderful news. They offered their congratulations and asked all the normal questions. After sharing how far along she was, when she's due, and telling us how she is definitely going to find out the sex of the baby she throws out this gem.

"Yes, well we weren't going to start trying until August, but it was our anniversary night and we'd had a bunch of wine and it just happened a bit earlier than we had planned."

Just like that, she throws out one of those flippant comments about how "oops" we got pregnant without really trying. To a table full of women who have all struggled to get and stay pregnant.

She says this to the group and to me,,,,, not 5 minutes after I just shared with her that my donor egg IVF cycle had failed. The first time I had tried after losing my son. I was in shock and felt like she punched me in the stomach and then slapped me in the face.

Is she serious? Did it not even occur to her for a second that it might not be appropriate to comment on how easy it was for her to accidentally get pregnant a few months before she was going to start trying for real? Did it not occur to her that I was only 1 day away from my own bad news? Did it not occur to her that Friend B and Friend C have both had issues with infertility? Did it not occur to her that a comment like this could really hurt our feelings?

You could justify it a little by saying that she may not be fully aware of what Friend B and Friend C have gone through. I don't actually know what she knows about their struggles. But I do know that she if fully aware of mine. She has been there for a big part of it. And yet she still makes such an insensitive stupid thing?? I would expect this type of comment from someone I don't know very well. But I would never have expected a comment like this from her. Someone who is supposedly a good friend.

I just don't get it?

What would you do?