So Far, So Good

The day before Thankgiving, I went in for a second ultrasound. (The doctor originally wanted me to wait for four weeks until I saw him again. Yeah right. Like I was  going to let that happen.) Everything is looking good. Baby measured right on target and the heart beat was 176 bpm. We got to it hear it, which was a new experience for us.

We had a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. First and foremost the baby doing well. This was also the first Thanksgiving we got to spend with family in two years. Last year, it was just the two of us. I cooked a twenty pound turkey. It was thirteen dollars. It was a steal. We got at least six other meals out of it.

My next appointment is Dec. 21. I should be twelve weeks, two days. Having all these important appointments around the holidays is really scary. We rented a doppler and although, in all likelihood, I won't be able to hear the heartbeat this early, it gives me a sense of control that tends to be hard to come by when you have recurrent losses.

Because Holding My Breath Would Be Bad for the Baby

It was 4am Oct. 29, and I had to pee. Since, I was awake and I did not want to have to wake up again in an hour before Joe (my husband said I can use his real name, so no more J.D.) went to work ( he likes me to test when he's around),  I  figured I'd POAS. Mind you it was not a mind fetus type of testing being done. It was more of a wouldn't it just suck if I was pregnant and went off the progesterone and screwed things up type of test. We didn't even try that month. But there it was a positive test. Another positive pregnancy test. The first words out of my mouth were,"Oh Crap!"

So here we go again. I went in to confirm the pregnancy the first day of my missed period. I had to make an appointment with a doctor other than the one I just started seeing. His name was Dr. Ohm. Which is nice because "Ohm" was kind of neccessary at that point. In fact, the nurse couldn't even take my blood pressure that day. We did a progesterone check and a beta check. Both came back looking good. My doctor actually said my progesterone was a bit high and asked if I wanted to take a lower dose but I said I'd rather not. We didn't do a series beta because my betas always double and if they weren't there isn't anything they could do anyway. So I didn't see the point in having to make another doctors's appoinment and get stuck with another needle when it wouldn't provide me with any peace of mind.

Our first ultrasound showed me further along than we had thought by five days. I was six weeks four days. The baby had a heart beat of 133 bpm. Everything looks really good so far, but it has before. Even my doctor expressed the sentiment that she wished I was just 30 weeks already.  But I'm not. So I fall asleep at night with my fingers crossed and praying. And I try to remember to breathe.

Remembering Our Babies

This is for Squirt, Chicken Little, Snowflake, and Rocky, and all the other angel babies. 
J.D. wore the PAIL rubber bracelet and ribbon to work today. I will wear mine today too.

Two More

While we attended Westborn Market's "Taste of Michigan" Sunday, I turned to J.D. and said "I'm only doing this two more times, and then we are considering adoption for real."  Two more miscarriages.  This whole resolve to be willing to go through two more losses strikes me as funny.

 First off, I have already done "two more."  I had told J.D. that it would be "one more" after we lost Chicken Little, the second baby. Now a chemical pregnancy and another miscarriage later, I am willing to have six losses before we seriously start to consider adoption.  Partially, this is because adoption is expensive so while we save for it, I am not willing to do nothing in the meantime. Also, I am still refusing to accept the idea that I may never give birth to a healthy baby.

The other thing I find funny about this "two more" is that it means I have fully accepted the possibility of me actually miscarrying two more times. I'm not sure if this expresses lack of faith that my next pregnancy will be successful or insane hopefulness that after so many pregnancies, one of them will eventually stick. 

And that's the thing. I keep hearing these stories of women who went through 6,8,10 miscarriages and then had a healthy baby.  These stories give me hope. Yet, another part of me thinks, "I don't want to have to go  through that many." How much more can I emotionally and physically handle? How many more nicknames will not turn into real names?  How many more surgeries do I want to undergo to have my dead child taken from me? How many more times can I "untell"? Today, its two more.

Aunt Flow is a B&%$@

She came to visit today. Crying has ensued.  I texted J.D. demanding a puppy and wine. The puppy is a no go as we have already met our apartment's two pet maximum with Paisley and Patrick (our cats). Well at least I can drink at our college's homecoming this weekend and the next weekend's wedding??? That's a silver lining, right? Kind of?

J.D. has now compared baby making to football. He is a highschool coach. It was an amusing analogy but since my knowledge of football is limited I cannot repeat it right. Something about being on the 40 yard line and getting pushed back and if we wanna win....

On another note, infertility has infiltrated even the simple show of One Tree Hill. (Yes, I watch it religiously.)  Brooke Davis cannot get pregnant. The exchange between Brooke and her six year old godson, Jamie was priceless this week.

Jamie: "Aunt Brooke, where do babies come from?"
Brooke: "Not from me."

To Whom it May Concern

Dear happy, healthy pregnant lady,

Thank you for:

a. Showing me your ultrasound pictures.

b. Texting me the sex of your baby.

c. Inviting me to your baby shower.

I am truly happy for you. However, if you are friendly enough with me to share these things, please be a friend and acknowledge the following:

a. How lucky you are that you saw a heartbeat at the ultrasound and you made it far along enough to find out the sex

b. After four miscarriages, I may not want to go to a party surrounded by baby things,when I never got to buy any for my babies

I really do not mind you sharing these things with me. I am after all your friend, so I like sharing in your happiness. But please do not ignore my losses because, as my friend, you should at least take them into consideration.

Sincerely,
Me

5DPO

So today is day 18 of my cycle. When I went to the bathroom before putting in the progesterone suppository, there was blood on the toilet paper. Implantation bleeding perhaps???? The irony of actually being excited and hopeful about blood on the toilet paper, when usually it brings fear and/or disappointment, is not lost on me.

I have already gotten in touch with a new ob/gyn office here and have given the nurse the run down of my losses and luteal phase defect. Basically, I have given them the heads up that I am going to need lots and lots of attention if I got pregnant this cycle. If I didn't I want to discuss Chlomid which I have been resisting the use of up until now. But I am tired of wasting time.

So here's hoping I got pregnant this cycle not that it neccessarily means I will wind up with a baby.

I'm Still Here

In the last couple of months there have been quite a few events. Here's an update:
J.D. finally got a teaching job in our home state of Michigan.

Most of July and August was spent getting ready for the move to MI from VA, where we lived and J.D. taught the last two years.

We are thrilled to finally be back where we have family.

I was diagnosed with a luteal phase defect so it is 400mg of Prometrium for me.

We are trying to save for a house.

Currently, I am TTC, trying to find work, and dealing with all those babies born to my friends that were previously 600 miles away.

Oct 3 J.D. and I will attend the Share Annual Walk for Rememberance and Hope.

Father's Day

I think sometimes as women, we forget , that our DHs, whether they show it or not are on this journey of infertility and or/recurrent losses too. I asked my husband (who will henceforth be referred to as JD for his initials) how he felt about today being Father's Day. Had Squirt lived or Chicken Little lived he would be a daddy by now. Had Snowflake or Rocky lived, he would know by now whether he would be a dad to a boy or girl. He answered that he was OK. He did not want anything honoring the day for him. Although, he did say that when we are in our home state next week he does not want to hold the two babies that belong to our sets of coupe friends. He compared it to the "Stanley Cup Curse." "If you touch it before you win it, then you will lose it."

I thought that today of all days I would share something he wrote when we found out we were pregnant with Chicken Little:

Women Aren’t the Only One Bleeding
“No longer in the womb but forever in our heart”

The funny thing is, is that as I type this, my wife is 9 weeks pregnant. The joy that is in my heart has replaced the feelings of loss and sadness. The funny thing is, is that as men, we are not supposed to feel sadness, the least of all at the death of a child. A miscarriage is the most painful lesson I have ever learned as a human being. I have learned that I am not the most gifted athlete, I have definitely learned that I am not the smartest human on the planet, and I have learned that I am not as “strong” as I thought I was.

I was 28 when my wife told me we were pregnant, she was late, and I was excited. We rushed to tell everyone, I even copied the positive pregnancy tests on our scanner. The conversation I had with my parents was the best we ever had. To finally have something positive to tell my parents was a joy I will never have again.

I grew up in a loving household of four boys. My parents did the best they can, and better than most. Masculinity was not missing in our household. I have always felt a gravity towards societies version of masculinity. Men were the bread winners and women were better at taking care of homes and babies. I always thought that women were more emotional than men: that is until this happened.

My parents were the best that their generation could offer. Mom and Dad were a dying breed in this country that taught their children right from wrong. They taught us that fate was what we made of it. Why then did my child have to die before he/she could make their world what they wanted.

I feel this loss as I have felt no other. I have lost grandparents, I have felt the sting of losing someone close, yet this was different. This was like a knife cutting into my chest. I had to be strong for my wife, and yet my body was crying to God for answers. I let myself feel the grief, alone in the car on my way to work the next day. There was no sick days that could cover this loss. No personal grievance day that could quench the thirst of my pain. I drove in silence, no radio, no phone, nothing to make me think of the child that was now passing through my wife’s body. My wife was losing our child and there was nothing we could do about it.

This is an addendum I wish I would have never had had to written. It is now almost 9 months since the first and we have had 2. The second was a missed miscarriage. Not only did we have the slap in the face of another, but my wife went through the pains of childbirth. What kind of “God” allows this to happen? Not only do we have the pain of loss that will echo our hearts for all time, but she has to go through the physical and emotional toll of a birthing that we will not come out of with a gift that we have been praying for forever. I watched as my wife went through what most would consider hell. I have no idea what is going on with our babies.

Theme Song

So I used to watch Ally McBeal all the time. And recurrent theme on that show was that your life has a theme song. And for the last year this one kept popping into my head. I guess it is my theme song.

I'm Ready!!!

Husband commented on it today. I have been looking at baby bedding and nursery decor sites again. Now I have to wait for Cycle Day 25 for my endometrial biopsy. Then, I have to wait for the results of that. And if that comes back normal, look into alloimmune testing. So physically, I am not that ready. But emotionally,I am ready to take a seat back on that crazy ass rollercoaster ride of tring to concieve after loss.

Dancing in the Rain

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass... It's about dancing in the rain.


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Today, while I was at work, I was thinking that our car could really use a trip to the car wash. Actually, I've been thinking this for weeks now. The car is pretty dirty. There's bird poop on it. Then I thought, "Well, today would not be a good day to do it. They are predicting rain tomorrow." The car has been waiting to get washed for weeks because "they are predicting rain tomorrow, this weekend, etc." If I keep putting it off because of the weather that might happen, is it ever going to get cleaned??

We do this in life all too often. We put things off because we don't feel our circumstances are ideal enough to go after our heart's desire. Ever hear what someone with kids, tells someone who says they are waiting to have kids when they can afford them? Usually it is something along the lines of "If you wait until you can afford them you will never have them."

I've put off alot in the last year. All because I was planning on getting pregnant, or because I might miscarry. It is easy to get caught in the storm of infertility and recurrent loss. It seems I spent so much of the last year focusing on having a baby to hold, that until now I missed the lessons of the babies I didn't. Life on this earth is short. And alot of the time it is stormy. If we keep waiting until each storm passes, to take the trip, to see the concert, to find a new job, to start working out,to start that hobby, to go back to school, we never will. Sometimes all you can do is dance in the rain until the sun comes out. And it will,but I want to be able to say I did something cool in the meantime.

As for the car, one day it won't matter what storms are looming. I will get it washed. And if its only shiny and clean for one day, it will be worth it.

Where's God?

Bruce Nolan: God is a mean kid sitting on an anthill with a magnifying glass, and I'm the ant. He could fix my life in five minutes if He wanted to, but He'd rather burn off my feelers and watch me squirm.- from Bruce Almighty

I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much. ~Mother Teresa

If you believe in God, and you suffer from infertility and or/ pregnancy loss, you pray alot. You pray first that the test comes up positive. You then pray that there is no blood on the toilet paper. Then you pray there is a heart beat. Then when those prayers don't get answered or at least not in the way you wanted them too, you pray for the strength to just get through it all. And then, when what seems to be the millionth woman you know gets pregnant and has no issues, you may wonder "Is anybody listening?" Where is He???

As, much as I hate to be in what has been referred to as a "silent sorority", I have found an amazing amount of support amongst other women who have suffered from infertility and or/loss. Support that years ago probably didn't exist. THERE HE IS.

My new doctor is wonderful. I feel as though he is as invested in this as I am. He spends as much time as necessary with me and my husband. THERE HE IS.

I have a history of depression. Yet, I have somehow in the midst of all the hormonal changes, stress,and grief avoided falling into a major bout and avoided having to go back on medication. THERE HE IS.

My husband and I both have jobs in this economy. Jobs that allow us to pay medical bills, a little more than minimums on debt, and put a little into savings every month (even if it sometimes gets taken back out.)THERE HE IS.

We both have amazingly supportive families. THERE HE IS.

After my last loss, I received cards from two of my close friends and numerous phone calls from others that helped me feel not so lonely in what can be a very lonely time. THERE HE IS.

I have two cats that are my fur babies. They bring us great joy. I truly believe pets are gifts from God. THERE HE IS.

There is food on the table and a roof over our heads. THERE HE IS.

We are now thinking about adoption. This is something we may never have considered if not for our troubles. THERE HE IS.

I have had four positive pregnancy tests this year. (We watched some crazy Discovery Channel show about the conditions that sperm have to go through to actually meet the egg. Its a miracle any sperm makes it.) THERE HE IS.

I have seen two of my babies heartbeats on ultrasound.THERE HE IS.


And He is in every healthy baby born to my family and friends. Knowing what I know now, these babies, whether born after difficulties or not, are truly miracles.

Oh Icckk

Since Mother's Day, I've started three posts and have not finished any of them. I am having a really down week. Mother's Day Eve I had one too many martinis and wound up with my head in the toilet crying over my babies between dry heaves. The bills have all come in for the D and C, so the money has all gone out of savings. Oh and today is the anniversary of my first miscarriage.

On a good note, karyotyping came back normal. The doctor wants to do an endometrial biopsy to check for a luteal phase defect. He thinks if I have one, I was not on enough Prometrium this last pregnancy or I lost this baby due to one of those random chromosomal abnormalities that happen. Or its just "bad luck", really, really bad luck. If my endometrial biopsy comes back normal, I am still looking into DQ alpha matching and the like. I want to make sure all my bases are covered before we start trying again. Although God knows if we can really afford a baby. I mean that: Only God knows because I have no idea right now how we would do it.

Hi, My name is Salisa and I am a Habitual Aborter....

And if anyone can tell me where the anonymous meetings for this "habit" are held, I'd be really, really grateful, because I would really like to quit.

I am also a daughter.
I am also a sister.
I am also a cousin.
I am also a granddaughter.
I am also a wife.
I am also a depressive.
I am also a customer service representative.
I am also a reader.
I am also a cleaner.
I am also a high strung person.
I am also an ENFJ.
I am also a pet owner.
I am also an animal lover.
I am also a believer in retail therapy.
I am also a Catholic.
I am also an aunt.
I am also a cosmetics lover.
I am also a friend.
I am also a New Yorker and a Michigander.
I am also a Yankees fan and a Tigers fan.
I am also a stubborn person.
I am also a fan of baseball and basketball.
I am also a sorority girl.
I am also a blogger and a blog reader.
I am also a coffee and tea drinker.
I am also a foodie.
I am also a TV junkie.
I am also a movie goer.
I am also a lover of accessories.
I am also a daughter-in-law.
I am also a spiritual person.
I am also a talker.
I am also a loud person.

I am more than my losses and infertility.

Laughing and Moved at the Same Time

I was looking for books about miscarriage on Amazon. It suggested Knocked Up, Knocked Down by Monica Murphy Lemoine. She also posted a video dedicated to her stillborn son. It is very touching and funny at the same time. Don't get me wrong, after losing four pregnancies in less than a year, I feel for any woman stuck in this sorority of pregnancy and infant loss. It is a horrible place to be. However, Monica seems to cope with a snarky sense of humor. Read her blog and listen to the words in her song and you will see what I mean. It is a good representation of what parents of angels think about. I can't wait to read her book!

And Sometimes the Miracles are Not That Small

This story was in our local newspaper. The event happened at the church my husband and I attend.

"And the World Spins Madly On."

Yesterday was my first day back to work after we discovered I misscarried a third time. I woke up and all I felt was dread. I was in tears at the thought of facing it all. I just I kept thinking since Tuesday was my day off, I would just call off Monday and give myself the extra two days. But the logical part of me knew, whether I went back on Monday or Wednesday, the first day back after the loss would be hard. It did not matter what day of the week it was. It did not matter how many days I was out. One day would have to be the first day back after loss. One day would have to be the day that life went on.

I think there's part of you when you suffer a loss, any loss, not just that of a child, that makes you look at the world differently. You get so engulfed in your grief that it is incomprehensible that everything hasn't just stopped. Because to you it should. Because to you it has.

There's this part of you that wants to scream at the grocery store clerk when she tells you to "Have a nice day.", "I WILL NOT HAVE A NICE DAY. SOMEONE I LOVED DIED." There are times long after the sympathy cards and the flowers come, long after whatever closure is supposed to come with the ceremony, that you will sit alone with your grief and nobody is calling to console you anymore. "Grief lasts longer than sympathy."

After my first two losses, it was months until I did not have to pause before I answered the question "How are you?" For awhile when someone who knew about my losses asked me how I was doing, I had to wonder "Are they asking me in that casual way people do to be polite or are they asking me in context of my loss?" I live in context of my losses. Would I have made it past the twelve week mark, that week that so significantly decreases the miscarriage risk? Would I be twenty weeks today and know the sex? Is today an estimated due date? Or, as it is almost a year later from when we started this journey, did I lose a baby on this day? All those things determine, how I am really doing on any given day. Every day I live with my losses. But I live.

So I got up yesterday and went to work. I waited on guests and did the rest of my daily activities. Because life goes on. The pets have to be fed, bills have to be paid, the apartment needs to be cleaned,etc.

In fourth grade, our teacher read the class a poem about a family that suffers the death of the husband/father. The mother makes items for the children from the deceased father's clothes. When the children ask her why she is destroying their dear dad's things, she responds, "Life goes on,children. I just forget why." Indeed,life goes on.

Infertility/ Recurrent Pregnancy Loss Sucks

This. Just this.

Coffee Stains

The title of this post was going to originally be the title of my blog.  One, the blog is about me and the kids in Jr. High used to call me "Coffee Stain" because of a scar on my right arm due to a coffee burn I recieved when I was eight months old.  Before you go into the "kids can be so cruel" mantra, neither the nickname or the scar ever bothered me. But the second reason I was going to call the blog "Coffee Stains" was because as a perfectionist, I often get sidetracked and discouraged by all the imperfections in my life, much like when those few drips of coffee that you can't get out of the carpet make you cringe every time you look at them.  But after the year I've had, I started thinking that how if you let them those few drops of coffee on the carpet, that are bound to happen, can make you hate that carpet even if the rest of it is pristine. 

So instead this blog is about the small miracles that happen everyday.  The opposite of "coffee stains", these miracles  are such a part of everyday life we forget see them as such.  It's the extra cash that comes in just as the hospital bill does. ( My dental bill was $256 and change, my state tax refund $256.) It's the extra shifts they offer you at work when money is tight.  It's the phone call from a friend just when you need it,  the minimal damage to your car and yourself in what could have been a very bad accident.

So often we ask, "Why me?" when bad things happen.  As if for some reason we should be exempt from them. As if it makes more sense if the person down the street, around the corner, on the other side of the country, falls into the percentile of the statistic of the bad thing.  I am that person.  The statistics say that twenty percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. Include situations where the women didn't even know that she was pregnant (chemical pregnancies perhaps) and that statistic increases to almost fifty percent. Recurrent miscarriages only happen to one to two percent of the fertile population of women.  I fall into that fifty percent. I fall into that one percent. But what happens when we fall into the other side of the percentile? Why don't we ever ask "Why me?" when the good things happen? Maybe if we spent more time appreciating the good things instead of FMLing (and after a fourth loss, I have plenty of reason to FML), we would all be a little happier. I've learned in the last year that most of the time the small miracles are there if we decide to recognize them as such. And the coffee stains, well if they don't scrub out, you can always move a piece of furniture to cover them up.

The Fine Pink Line

After our second loss, a missed miscarriage discovered at 11 weeks, I wrote the following as my facebook status: "If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, then sometimes there is a fine line between insanity and hope."  For couples suffering with recurrent pregnancy loss, that line gets blurred everytime they try to concieve after loss.

I got pregnant quickly with Squirt.  We had only been trying for a month and frankly, I was a little surprised when the test came up positive.  I didn't think I was ready to be a mother yet and was hoping the universe would buy me some time by letting it take a few months before I got pregnant.  Instead, the universe taught me one of the hardest lessons of being a mother.  Sometimes, despite our best efforts, our children still have bad things happen to them.  We lost Squirt at seven and a half weeks.

The doctor told us to wait two cycles before we started trying again.  My husband and I were eager.  I missed that second period and yet again there was a positive test.  And just as with Squirt, we did not wait to tell people about Chicken Little.  Because although miscarriages are fairly common, two in a row would surely not happen to me.  Oh, how naive I was.  There was no heartbeat on the doppler at eleven weeks.  The baby had died at eight weeks.  We knew we would try again and that is what inspired the facebook status because although the same thing seemed to be happening over and over again, we would try again. The next time, in the new year, with progesterone treatments and baby aspirin.  All my tests had come back negative for miscarrige causing disorders so that treatment is considered "the can't hurt, might help" treatment for those with unexplained recurrent pregnancy loss.

The new year started and again I got pregnant on the first try.  I tested five days before my missed period because I just "knew" that I was pregnant.  The early test came up positive.  You would think we would have learned by now.  But we were crazy with hope.  This time we only told our parents. Out we went to buy me a prenatal fitness DVD and Fit Pregnancy magazine. For a third time, I signed up for those weekly emails that send you an update of how your baby is developing  My first one was titled "You are three weeks and six days pregnant."  I had not even missed my period yet.  By the time I had finally tested after I had missed my period (because when you suffer from recurrent pregnancy loss, you test like a maniac to make sure there is still HCG in your system), my tests were coming up negative.  It was a chemical pregnancy. Snowflake ( I came up with that nickname because it basically melted as soon as it landed) never implanted.

So after three lost pregnancies, we continue to hope. We continue to try. We will continue to plan for each child after discovering it's conception.  Because what else can we do?? Not telling people and not planning for them isn't going to keep me from miscarrying.  I would rather live in hope that a subsequent pregnancy will stick, than the constant fear thet it will not.  Call me insane because I keep expecting a different result even though prior experience tells me otherwise, but to quote Dale Carnegie "Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who kept on trying when there seemed to be no hope at all."