the coming End of a Battle

"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does.
Love is a battle, Love is a war; Love is growing up."

- James A. Baldwin

I have no idea who James A. Baldwin is... but I like his thoughts.

I feel ravaged from Battle... and yet, I know that so much more is going to come.

I haven't written; I didn't know how. I still have a hard time putting anything into coherent sentences.

My Mom is dying.

She was released from the hospital 10 days ago, to basically go home and succumb to the infection that she contracted in the hospital. There was nothing more that they could do, so they unplugged her from the IVs and platelets and medications, and that was that.

Since she felt great, we met her at Riverside Casino for an afternoon of her favorite hobby. And she and Dad won pretty well too - which helped in their visits to the casino since (2 or 3 more times, I've lost track.) But things...

I'm just going to post this as is... interrupted and all.
So much has happened since I started this post, and I will need time to process my next post. I know this doesn't answer any pending questions, but it is what it is.

"LoverLove does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.

James A. Baldwin

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/j/jamesabal100681.html#2gH8fkthfzqXzi1L.99

Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.
James A. Baldwin
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/battle.html#iFuvF7oj4dHP8Hi6.99

Anxiety

Right now, I wish I had some Nutella... or a pile of Rolos. Or even a Snickers mini.

I've hit that point in the afternoon where I am usually digging through my purse for loose change. I'm getting hungry (again) and a little heartburn (again) and a little nauseous (again.) This happens at least 4 times a day. And never at the same time. It's worse in the morning. And because I take such a late lunch (around 1:15pm) it hits twice. I hold off until at least 9am, and then again at 11am. Yogurt and watermelon are this week's faves. But in the afternoon... all I want is chocolate. Damned vending machine, it sits there and whispers my name. Today, I could only find $0.55. So, I broke out the saltines... suck on them until the nausea abides (which it hasn't yet.) Now do you see why I'd love some Nutella? With the salt? OMG.

So... I also get heartburn when I'm having an anxiety attack. And I've been building one all day. The ultrasound is tomorrow. What if there isn't a baby again? What do we do? What if I don't have enough emotion left, or I don't show the right emotions?

My friend, Jess asked me last weekend if this pregnancy felt better than the last time. I didn't know what to say. They symptoms are different. This one is more like the little I can remember from my pregnancy with Weston. Or maybe I am seeing similarities to protect my heart. I just know that it isn't anything like the last one. That one was so extreme in almost every aspect. But the truth is, I can't remember. And when it comes to feeling anything inside of me... I don't. And I know it's early, but I feel like I should "feel" something, anything.

I am so scared of what is going to happen tomorrow.

As we wait...

So we're now in the middle of a new Wait.... When we were trying to conceive, we had the 2 Week Wait, or 2WW - this is the time period between ovulation and the expected start of the next cycle. (A cycle starts when Aunt Flo shows up.) Now Scott and I are in the middle of the 3 Week Wait. This is the time period form confirmation of pregnancy to the first ultrasound at 8 weeks. Ours is scheduled for June 14th.

We're so afraid to hope for this baby. I keep getting emails that say things like, "Your Baby is the size of a Poppy Seed!" (week 4) to "the Size of a Sesame Seed" (week 5). It's so easy to get wrapped up in our little seed. But then it's so devastating when things go wrong. I almost bought a bassinet yesterday of a FB Sale Page. What was I thinking? Jinx, jinx, jinx!

That all being said (because I needed to say it to someone), the symptoms are interesting this time around.

With the lost pregnancy, the symptoms were traditional, but very severe - nausea, breast tenderness, raging emotions - everything was heightened.

This time... it's a lot like the second half of my pregnancy with Weston. I am so exhausted that I could fall asleep at any point during the day (not helpful at work, trust me.) I'm hungry all of the time. I get nauseated if I wait too long to eat, and I get icky when I do eat. My brain wanders away frequently, and I can go to the bathroom every 15 minutes if I think about it. ;)  So I feel worthless at work. And I have some huge projects for this summer, one due in 3 days. Oh and my blood sugars are all over the charts. Up, down, and back again. And the worst part, ok, almost as bad as the debilitating exhaustion, my legs are swelling - to the point of pain. I am drinking a ton of water and cutting caffeine, nothing helps. I fear I may end up buying Crocs soon to cover the ugliness.

I am hoping that since these are more similar to my healthy pregnancy, that everything is going to be great. :D

It's never going away...

I have this amazing friend. She's strong and powerful and so very brave. She's loyal and loving and vulnerable too. She taught me to be ok with who I am (as much as I can ever be) and that it's ok to go to Wal-Mart without makeup or in your pajama pants. :)  I've never worn the jammie pants... but the makeup is optional. I've known her for 13 years now, and we've shared so many things. She's like a sister. And now, our married names are the same. That's the funny part!

Anyway, my friend is pregnant. This wasn't a planned pregnancy - she thought she was done having children and wasn't sure about the stability of her marriage - not to mention the three sons she already had. It was rough on her. And she felt so much guilt because of my struggles with infertility. She is amazingly fertile. (She's offered to surrogate for us over and over again.) So... this pregnancy has been a long road for her.

When I was confirmed pregnant in February, I called her to share the news. We were so happy! Our babies would only be 11 weeks apart. They would so close! We were so excited for the possibilities.

When we lost our baby, she was equally as devastated for us. I spent the night alone with her about 2 weeks after the loss. It was so nice to be able to be honest and open with someone. She didn't understand exactly what I was feeling, but she never limited my feelings or emotions.

Today, she had a 3D ultrasound. And they saw that her baby is a GIRL! And I am so excited and happy for her. Especially after 3 boys. I was overcome with happiness for a moment. We talked for a few minutes, and then I had to go. I was remembering...

I remembered how we were so happy that our babies would be close together, how if they were girls they'd be best friends. How we talked about taking pictures and just enjoying it all together.

And then it hit me.

We wouldn't have that. I wouldn't have that. My baby is gone. The plans were empty. Even if I got pregnant today, our babies would be so far apart. And I don't believe I'm going to get pregnant immediately, I'm a realist. And it just hit me like a ton of bricks... the emotional overload. It doesn't go away. It's not going away. I keep thinking that I am better, forcing myself to be ok - everyone else has moved on, why can't I? And at times like these, I just wish I could shut down and hide under the covers. But I can't. I'm at work. With a bunch of men who have no idea what's going on, or care to see that anything is going on. And two women who don't See either.

I feel invisible and suffocating from my overwhelming emotions and, what I am sure someone would tell me, grief. But no matter how logical I am or how many books I read on the topic... nothing seems to change. I feel fine and normal one minute... and then everything crashes the next. Shannon's right, I probably need therapy.

normalities

It's been one week since my surgery and the removal of our pregnancy.

Things are slowly getting back to the new normal. I went on a Girls Night on Friday. It was a nice distraction... Oz: The Great and Powerful was a huge disappointment in a movie. Just huge. And it had so much potential. Our late dinner of (mine was cooked) Sushi at Wasabi Chi was amazing. I loved it all, and would definitely go back. If you are reading this from the DSM area, make a visit, and then send me a Thank You note.

What I've noticed about people though... as the week went on, my tragedy was no longer in the front of their minds. And while I understand this, it would be nice to be asked how I'm doing, or to have my Mom want to talk about it. I still need to talk about it. My SeaStar has been a God-send. More than she will ever understand. She lets me talk and cry and talk some more. She is the best sister on the planet. I am beyond lucky to have her.

So, Saturday, we were back to normal. Big family thing - we bought a Family Membership to the Science Center of Iowa and the Blank Park Zoo. It was our big expenditure, but we're doing it in lieu of Adventureland passes this year. We spent about 3 hours at the Science Center Saturday, and then Shannon and I ran errands all over West Des Moines after we dropped the boys at home. It was really rough for me. I'm not sure if I overdid it, or what, but I was in a lot of pain with the worst cramps since labor with Weston, and it was the absolute worst day since surgery. It was so bad that I thought this was all over after it. I was wrong, but nothing has been as bad as Saturday. So, I hope that means that I am healing well.

Last night I didn't go to bed as early as I had hoped (Darned husband got me hooked on the Walking Dead.) But I dreamed a lot last night. A LOT. I dreamt that it was April 2nd. The day of my 3 week Post-op check up. And I was pregnant again. Just newly discovered. And I was afraid that my doctor was going to be so mad at us. And I was so worried that this was too soon, that we were asking for another miscarriage. The kicker? The whole time that I am dreaming about this, in the dream I am wondering how I could even be pregnant at all - it's only 2 weeks from tomorrow, how is that time enough for this to happen? So in my head in the dream, I am worried about a supernatural pregnancy on top of an impending miscarriage and an angry doctor. Wow... Freud would have a blast with that one... I can just hear him (think back to Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure for the Freud in my head) -
    "Oh! I zeenk zat you are hazing zee issues of zee babies... ."
See, even the awake stuff running through my head is a bit crazy, so the dream stuff has to be so much more entertaining. :) I hear from the message boards that I belong too, that dreams are normal, even weird guilty dreams.

Obviously, my mind is on babies. In an almost desperate way. I feel more like I did when we struggling with infertility the first time around - jealous and angry and mad at all of the pregnant women and girls around me. A great sense of unfairness. I realize that this is all a part of grieving. I've been told to accept my sadness and anger and everything I feel and to actually recognize it for what it is, grief. And I am trying. I really am. Scott looks at me and asks me if I'm ok, what's wrong, etc. And I'm just wallowing in my feelings. I'm trying to be normal, and for a little while, I am. But sometimes, I just fall back into the wallowing. And apparently, this is normal too.

I am normal. All the time. I just have to accept that for myself. I'm working on it.

understanding the unfairness of the blessings

It's been exactly one week since we received the most devastating news that we could have imagined as a couple. Or maybe in Scott's case, he never could imagine it. As he said:

• We've been struggling. We lost the house, my mom got sick, our fertility issues - trying for over a year, having surgery, following the schedule. When we got pregnant, we should have been great. I'm the healthiest I've been in years. This should have been it.

And it feels like he's right. In the Grand Scheme of Things, we deserved this baby. Our family deserved this baby. Our son deserves to be a big brother. This isn't the way our life was supposed to go. We try to be good people and do what we're supposed to do. We try and try and try. And it does feel like we just can't win sometimes. It feels mostly unfair as I am walking next to a pair of teenage sisters at Target, one about 16, the other a few years younger. And the 16 yr old is very pregnant. And she's complaining about everything. And her younger sister is talking to her about how to get child support from the father. Blah, blah, blah. It took everything in me to pull the cart over and to let them walk away. They were in their own little crisis at the moment, and while it compared nothing to mine, it was everything to them. But that didn't mean that I had to hear about it. Or tell them to shut the "F" up because my baby had died, and she was just a stupid kid. (Do you see now why I stopped? It's safer for everyone.)

But this is the way that life is. It's unpredictable and unfair. It's messy and complicated and exhilarating and excruciating. It's magical and terrifying all at once. Life is complicated. Life doesn't follow any plans.

But Life can be so beautiful. Even a tiny little life that physically didn't amount to more than a cluster of human cells and tissue. That little life gave us all something so important. That little spark gave it's parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends a glimmer at a different future. It brought hope and we grew to love this tiny life that only existed to a handful of people. But see? That's the point. This tiny little life existed. It grew from a single cellular experience into something magnificent.

I had doubts from the moment I found out I was pregnant. It was too fabulous to believe. And when the tests came back with such faint pink lines, I thought, "See. I'm not really pregnant. I don't get to have this." They kept telling me, any line is a positive line. I spent weeks, three to be exact, waiting for my period every time I went to the bathroom. I was so used to being disappointed month after month, that it never seemed real enough. I didn't feel "pregnant." I felt exhausted and nauseous. The last two weeks of this pregnancy, my symptoms were a lot worse - much more tired, potty breaks all the time, more food aversions, body changes - I thought that I needed to listen to my body more - I was pregnant. Everyone said I was, even  my dreams. I was dreaming of twins all the time. So, I pondered baby names, we went shopping, I was telling more people. But I still had doubts. I kept telling myself that once we had the ultrasound, everything would be great. The biggest surprise would be twins. Everything will be great, and I will finally feel 100% ok.

As we sat in the waiting room for the ultrasound, 1 week ago today, Scott was reading the paper, nervous but excited looking. Everyone was so excited when we checked in, the receptionists, the tech. We waited for about 20 minutes and I was so nervous. We went back with the tech, the lights were low, and she tried too find anything with the regular ultrasound. I thought this was strange since I was only 8 weeks and a few days, and oh yeah, I'm not thin. After finally progressing to the internal ultrasound, she kept focusing on not-baby things like my ovaries, and other things. And then she just said that the sac is empty. And it happens a lot. and blah blah blah. I kept thinking, is she allowed to be telling me this? Shouldn't a doctor be in here? But she just kept talking all hyper and positive, like she had a Red Bull over lunch with her ice cream cone. Scott had no idea what she was talking about, because she didn't talk to him. I had to tell my husband that there wasn't a baby. And through the doctor consult and the family weekend, I kept saying, "There isn't a baby. It didn't grow. There was never a baby."

But I was wrong.

There was a baby. And it grew. It grew from one single cell, from 2 loving parents who wanted it so badly. Our tiny Spark grew as long as it could - 5 weeks and 3 days. That was as long as our Spark could make it. It's not enough. It will never be enough. But it's still something. And something is more than nothing. Our Spark was something to everyone who knew about it. And we won't forget.

Life... lives, pure and simple. Life is to be experienced. Life in any form is a blessing. Our tiny little Spark of life was a blessing. A Blessing of hope and the love between Scott and I; a blessing of the love of a family.

I was given a handwritten note from one of our workplace chaplains. (Yes, 2 chaplains visit my office each week, offering their guidance or just some chatting.) Anyway, it said that I would one day hold my baby in my arms in Heaven. At that moment, that seemed like a ridiculous thing to say. How could I hold something that was tinier than anything in my arms? Would I know if it were a son or a daughter? Would it be neither? I was a little freaked out. But then I could see myself... and I was holding our Spark. Like a little orb of light that emitted warmth. Just this little Spark of life the could fit into the palm of my hand. I like the thought of that. Of being able to hold our Spark, and being warmed once again by the warmth of its light.