Investigating

How has it been 3 years since I wrote here, so much has happened and I feel kind of stuck on how to write all of it out.

Since reaching the two year mark of trying to conceive (again!) we have been referred to a fertility specialist. I don't know why I felt so deflated when we reached the two year mark, we struggled for years to get and stay pregnant before our Lilly-love was born. But I guess when my cycles returned after she weaned I assumed they would just stay regular and for a year and a half they did, aside from one cycle that went awol when my Dad passed away in November 2015. But that was just one, we were back to regular predictable monthly cycles until my Mom passed away November 2016 and it has been a mess ever since (I suppose in some ways so have I as I have navigated messy grief again). 

So we've been seeing the fertility specialist and it has been such an eye opener for me, I assumed after the investigations my obstetrician did in 2011 I would be left with "unexplained infertility" as we bumbled through fertility treatments again. But he looked over my history and scheduled us for all sorts of tests and investigative procedures, it felt like he wasn't just going to accept unexplained infertility without seeing it himself and I cannot appreciate that more.

Especially because we got answers.

Even if we hadn't it would have brought me some closure to know we looked everywhere to find a reason. But the fact that we found answers to why I have struggled to get and stay pregnant is incredible. I have cried so much in these last few weeks because even though it won't bring them back it means that all of these horrible things didn't happen because of "bad luck" or whatever, but because of a defect in my uterus and a disorder both of which wouldn't have been discovered when I was deemed "young and healthy".

I'll be back with more.

With love, Anne

Happy Mothers Day

My journey to motherhood hasn't been simple, but if there is one thing I can take from it is a deepened appreciation for motherhood - even on the worse days or the sleepless nights I am still so very blessed. I am lucky. This will never be something I take for granted.

The winding roads of my journey to motherhood also gifted me with a love for my fellow mothers, all mothers. So in honor of mothers day, I want to celebrate you and I want to remind you to celebrate yourself too.

No matter where you may be in your journey to motherhood, you are a mother. This is your day.

Happy mothers day.

xo, Anne.

Waiting for you..

Our journey to Lillith was far from the typical 9 months I carried her in my belly, it was months turned years of waiting and praying. Hoping and dreaming of our little baby, in August 2012 just after my last round of Clomid I had a dream that I would bring home a small dark haired baby girl. She was bundled up in pink and details of that dream were far from anything I could predict then. It was so vivid and so incredible, I believe I dreamt of her and Lord knows I needed it then, just months before my first positive pregnancy test in almost 3 years would end in miscarriage.

Who could have imagined that nine months after that dream, six months after that devastating miscarriage that I would be blessed with another positive test, this time without the Clomid just before we were about to give up. 

She's here, it has been such a challenging and difficult journey and I have had many dark days but holding her in my arms is amazing, there is light and there is hope.

xo, Anne.

Loss Resources

I have wanted to put together a quick resource list for the loss community, whether your loved one has lost their sweet baby or yourself has heard those devastating words "I'm sorry..." sometimes it can be really hard to find good, safe, places to turn to. 

These were, and still are sometimes, mine.

NILMDTS - or Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, which is a non-profit organization that offers families suffering the loss of their baby high quality professional photos. Like I mentioned last week, having photos - even if it may sound so strange standing on the outside, is an incredible blessing. I didn't know about this organization when we lost our son but the more people that know about the more chances for it to fall into the hands of those who need it.

Still Standing Magazine - Still Standing is an online magazine that has a variety of writers and touch on subjects ranging from infertility to pregnancy and infant loss. 

Glow in the Woods - Glow in the Woods is another online magazine, another great variety of experiences written and shared, as I often found, in a very poetic fashion.

Faces of Loss - a personal favorite of mine, they welcome anyone to come and share your story. Each story is tagged in ways that you can follow if you're looking for someone closer to what you have experienced. They put real, honest, stories to faces and it is such an incredible way to be reminded that you are not alone. You're welcomed to share your own story, link with others in the loss community and break the silence that you are 1 in 4.

Etsy - I know Etsy is a huge website, and not exclusive to the loss community but by using the search bar it is so easy to come across a number of pregnancy and infant loss memorial items, from jewelry to artwork and more.

xo, Anne

Sharing our story

I have struggled many times dodging questions about our children, I don't know if it is worse now "Is this your first?" or before "do you even want kids?"

Sometimes I share and am pleasantly surprised by their reaction, a few years ago I shared with a coworker-turned-friend and the reaction was filled with love and support. Other times this happens and I withdraw deeper into myself convinced that those who have never experienced such heartache would never understand anyway, which is really unfair to myself and also unfair to those whose kind hearts and open minds allow for a special level of understanding.

But how do you judge that?

I often feel like I'm living a double life as I talk openly about all of our children at home, with our families and within the loss/pregnancy community. But out and about I try to make quick judgement, does the cashier at the grocery store really need to know? How about the lady at church that I see every week? It's hard sometimes and sometimes the line blurs between what seems like two worlds and things like "with my son..."  comes up before I have a chance to stop it, then I'm left standing there stumbling over my words and their questions.

I recently experienced sharing our son's story with my dental assistant, as I gracefully answered her questions I assumed I would be met with "I'm sorry" which is probably among the best replies someone can give - I mean, I realize and understand how difficult it must be to hear our story, or stories like ours, what do you say? Instead she went on to talk about her own loss, she had suffered a missed miscarriage many years ago and danced so delicately around mine, as if she felt that I had gone through so much worse than her. Many times in the loss community I have heard "but I wasn't as far as you" and when you get to forty weeks pregnant there isn't many that get as far or farther than I did with our son but that isn't truly how I feel about others. I have known the heart ache of an early ultrasound showing no heartbeat when only weeks before there was life, just as I have delivered and held my otherwise perfect son knowing he would never come home with us. When I get the opportunity to support someone who has suffered the pain of loosing a child, I feel blessed to have this story - as much as I wish no one had to loose, including myself, but if there has to be a world where amazing parents have to say good bye to their children then I am, with a broken heart, glad to be able to give more than a hushed "I'm sorry". She was so gentle with me and I can't even describe how my heart ached for her, had someone made her feel this way before? Had she spent this much time feeling like she (in her own words) overreacted? I stopped her immediately, no, don't take away from your loss just because I have suffered differently. You were pregnant, you were excited and in love with your child just as I was, you went in expecting a happy ultrasound and instead heard the worst thing a mother can hear. Please don't take away from yourself like that. We continued to talk and share our experiences, in ways that I'm sure neither of us often get to, by the end of my appointment my heart was so full. Like I said before, if this was how it had to be for me, with my son in heaven and everything else we had suffered through then I am blessed to be a beacon of hope and love to those that need it.

What if I hadn't shared with her? What if I quietly told her that our sweet Lilly was my only child and left it at that. Not only would I have taken away that experience from myself but I would also take away that brief moment where that woman could talk about her three children and not just the two seen in pictures. 

I have six years of "experience" and to be completely honest I still have difficulty trying to find a happy medium between when to share and when not to share. I wish there was a way to be marked for all to see, a way for those who can't handle it to look the other way while welcoming those who can or need it. Unfortunately I am learning that the only way to do so is by sharing, not that I always do and sometimes I wish I hadn't when I did while other times I am so glad to be able to give comfort and peace to someone else or find someone who can recognize that all I really want is to be able to talk about my children without feeling like a horror story. 

I should close this before I get carried away, if you're reading this and looking for ways to support someone you know here I haphazardly wrote what I felt were some of the best ways to do so.

xo, Anne.

As if I should be Grateful? What?

"At least you can relax, you don't have a kid to take care of"

 

My first trimester has been difficult, with all day nausea and the nature of my high risk label putting me on reduced activity from my obstetrician and family/hubby ordered bed rest - I have spent a lot of this pregnancy propped up on pillows doing whatever I can to relax and keep my mind away from the negative things that hang in the dark corners of my mind.

 

The other day, after violently throwing up my lunch, someone told me this, someone who not only is aware of our son but had been there while we struggled through our infertility and the early losses. This kind of statement would be okay from the unaware-but-trying-to-be-nice lady at the store, or the doctors office, even the bank - that I could forgive, simply blissful ignorance. But from someone who knows what we've come through, someone who can hold her children here and completely ignore everything that can go wrong because it hasn't happened to her. I can't forgive, there are so many things that as a parent to a child in heaven we have to hear; I've been told that I need to "move on" as if it was that easy to forget my son, that my husband "should find another wife" as if my fertility was the only thing my husband married me for. I have had people dig through my darkest experiences in sheer curiosity then shrug it off while I try to pull together the shreds of my grief and struggle. I have had people tell me to wait to have another child, because I had the chance, to do something different with my life, as if I could suddenly erase the 40 weeks I spent loving and preparing for my baby, 40 weeks of being a mother to a little boy that I would never hold. I've had people "offer" me their kids or tell me how lucky I am because I can sleep in ect - because I wouldn't trade everything I have to wake up every morning to my son's sweet smile, to instead have him cry for me.

 

I've heard a lot as a mother to an angel, but the absolute ignorance in her comment has hit me harder than most - I presume because I once confided a lot of my darkest in her. I couldn't even react, even now I can't get her comment out of my head and I wonder if other people dwell on the things they've said the same way I do.

As if I should be grateful that I don't have a child, that my little blonde boy isn't here, so I can just relax.

 

The thing is, I do have a child and I am a mother. My first pregnancy was real, my son was here and the trauma from my labor and delivery have scarred me both physically and emotionally. I have enough to take care of and although I would wish it all away if it meant that little blonde boy was here I can't.

 

I would do anything if it meant he was here; trying to find ways to work with my reduced activity and bed rest to keep him entertained and happy, just like so many mothers that have children here while high risk, teaching and preparing him to be the amazing big brother that I know our angel would be. I would do anything to be planning ways to make him feel involved with his little brother or sister during my pregnancy, ways to include him and make the day he would've met this baby special for him. I would do anything to hear my sweet little blonde boy, we would've been almost five years old now, talk excitedly about the baby brother or sister growing in his Mommy's tummy. I would do anything to have such a little trivial thing like balancing my doctor ordered reduced activity with an active child but I can't, I don't even get that chance and I HATE it. I hate that I can't have him here, I hate that instead I have to look forward to the day my little family is reunited in heaven, in the Lord's time and not mine. I hate that instead this is my life, that my life is without my son and instead of watching in wonder of the amazing big brother our sweet boy would've been I have to plan how I will teach this baby about their big brother, instead I will have to find ways to celebrate their big brother without causing them to fear death as the monster that took their big brother away.

 

But at least I can just relax, I'm clearly foolish to not be grateful that I am not "burdened" with a living, thriving child. Right, quite possibly the worst thing I have ever been told in the 5 years that I have spent aching for my little blonde boy.

Although I know that when we get to meet our rainbow baby in February that my grief and that ache will change - it will never go away & this life, with one child in heaven and one in my arms, will always be mine. If this is how it has to be, I will take it - because having had our son even if only for the short time we did, is better than never having the chance to love him. But that doesn't mean I should somehow be grateful for the supposed ease I have through this pregnancy without him here.

xo, Anne.

Post #100

This officially is blog post 100 so instead of rambling about my emotions (they are still pretty messy) or my cycle (it's still the same) I want to reflect on what getting to one hundred posts meant for my little blog.

I wrote my very first post on May 27th, 2011 minus one week and we are exactly two years since I pressed publish for the first time and I find this milestone along with the timing very entertaining because just like two years ago I am waiting to meet with my obstetrician in early June, however this time I am a little less anxious. I am also entertained with the fact that 105 weeks have passed since my first blog post, if I started writing weekly from the very beginning I would only have five more than I do now - I feel like I was writing far more sporadically than that. 

A lot has changed since that first post; I did get pregnant, breaking up the now 3+ years that we have been on this journey - sadly it ended in a miscarriage but to know that I can still get pregnant is a huge step when I had spent years up until then convinced that it may never happen for us again. My cycles are now (fingers crossed that it stays that way) regular again, and that is a huge relief to know that my body is working properly because what is even worse than a negative test or your period showing up when you were so sure you were is it not showing up but you're not pregnant either - to say that I am relieved is an understatement because I know how lucky I am for it to be regular right now. The blog has changed a bit too, I used to write randomly and mostly just to keep track of where we were in our crazy ttc journey but this year I wanted more and started writing weekly and including things that I would have censored before because "it could make someone uncomfortable" this year that went out the window and I have enjoyed being open and honest about my journey, I know I try to stay positive and hopeful but this whole ttc thing is hard and to be able to come to the blog and let it out has been a good thing for me. I've also reworked the look of the blog a bit, added a few useful pages (ttc abbreviations on the side bar, a break down of our ttc journey at the top and a good About Us page too) and I have so much more planned as we begin the next one hundred posts.

Giving myself a little pat on the back for making it to 100 and I hope that the next 100 (and beyond!) is only better than the last, and I have a feeling it will be!

xo, Anne.

An Unexpected Break

Last weekend I cried over the fact that my sweet husband, while I played across the room with our 3 year old niece, gushed that I will be a wonderful Mom. It wasn't because I don't hear such things, over the last three years we have been very open about our struggles trying and have both received on numerous occasions what I consider the biggest compliment “you're going to be an amazing Mom/Dad” from our loved ones but it melted my heart to find out that my husband felt so strongly about me like that to share his feelings. I have struggled so much in the past seeing Dyl be this amazing Uncle to our nieces and nephews and feel unable to give him the baby he is so obviously ready for, there isn't a part of me that doesn't believe in that he will be a wonderful Dad. I know we are both so ready to begin this chapter in our lives, I know we are ready to become parents here in this world and I pray that we will soon see an end to this proverbial storm in the coming months.

Anyway, onto a little cycle update? Although we intended to continue to actively ttc this cycle, we seem to have taken a break and I can't say I am disappointed with that. It has been such a difficult month for me and I can't imagine adding in the stress and pressure of actively trying or the inevitable break down over another negative test when I am already trying to dig myself out of the mess of emotions that came with May 2013. So I am somewhere in my two week wait, my next cycle is due June 2^nd and we see my obstetrician on the 4^th, I am eager to see what this will mean for my next cycle and what July could possibly hold for us (PLEASE BE A POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST PLEASE!).

xo, Anne.

TTC Update - What's Next for Us?

This month has been a mess, even in the blog you can probably tell that my head has been all over the place. Do we try something new? Do we keep trying naturally? Do we go back to Clomid? Stop charting? Keep charting? I certainly feel all over the place. So I wanted to be honest with you and explain what has been going on in my head, aside from confusion.

I'm getting desperate, May was supposed to mean a new beginning, although we miscarried our little May baby, which was every sort of devastating, I was so sure that we would be pregnant again by now (I don't know, after over 2 years ttc, why I would think it would happen quickly this time?). Everything was (and still is) regular but as we are heading to 6 months without success I'm starting to feel defeated again. I know I am young and that there is still time but I feel like I am stuck in this middle ground. Not pursuing things because “if I get pregnant I can't do this”, not doing things because “I might be pregnant” and yet I keep holding onto the knowledge that Clomid worked last time so I can always try that again. But every month that passes I feel like a failure and it feels like I am wasting my time waiting since I'm not getting pregnant anyway. I know ultimately it will all be worth it, I know that everything we have come through will be worth it when we are holding our baby but this is still so hard to go month to month without any success.

So after spending the last month debating between trying Clomid, continuing naturally, and attempting things that bounce around the TTC community. We have decided to meet with my OB next month and go back on Clomid. We will be going back to the same dose that we got pregnant on last year and although I am nervous to go through the side effects that the double dose of Clomid did to me last year I am excited that it will work again and we might be pregnant. I also have to acknowledge that we may not get pregnant on Clomid again and that means waiting for the reproductive specialist to decide that I'm a priority which my OB warns may not happen for a while considering my age. It sucks thinking that this could mean putting actively trying to conceive behind me for a while, moving my focus away from becoming a Mom but at the same time it means I can move forward which I don't feel like I can right now.

We will still be trying this cycle, I see my OB on June 4^th and of course there is a chance we could be pregnant but I am preparing to go back to Clomid this summer. Interesting note, every time I have started Clomid it has been in the summer 2011, 2012 and now 2013. Hoping that we will have our 2014 baby one way or another!

xo, Anne.

May 2013

April became May last week, a month that I once looked forward to with sheer excitement I now dreaded and as the month began the realization that all of those dreams and hopes were obviously not going to happen. More than any other day in the last 6 months since my miscarriage have I been so aware of where we would have been. Some of the girls from my due date group have already delivered and I can't help but picture how different things would have been, even if I hadn't delivered yet it isn't difficult to imagine how my body would have been and what we would have been doing in preparation for our May baby. When that test turned positive I couldn't wait for May 2013 to come, dreaming of the final days before our baby would be here, instead I welcomed May with a broken heart and a heavy break down. I spent most of the day crying and laying down on the floor, my heart heavy with the knowledge that our baby should have been here and with the sadness that I wasn't pregnant again by now, with my cycle still MIA I had no idea when that would even be possible. I felt so completely defeated, however the day passed and while it is still so hard to know that we would have been so close by now the heaviness in my heart has lifted some and I am trying to keep my mind distracted as our would've been due date approaches.

The next day my cycle started, four days late, I didn't want to jinx myself with hopes that this would happen and instead prepared my mind for a no-show cycle, but I am very happy that I was only a few days late - that is still normal. But during CD1 I am very hesitant to get excited (yeah, I get excited over a regular period at this point, ugh) and ever since the ectopic pregnancy I don't always trust that my period is indeed my period because I have bled for other reasons before, so I watch hoping that it will follow the regular pains and heaviness that I usually experience. Today is cycle day five and things are starting to wind down, as another ttc cycle begins we have decided to continue trying on our own for now (although I wont take anything off the table) and will not be adding anything just yet (ie. Clomid from my OB or trying any of ideas bounced around the ttc community). I will begin charting my temps again and am considering trying my ovulation kit but not too sure if I will, other than that we will be keeping up our healthly eating and activity levels – as always, hoping this is our last cycle trying and that next month I am pregnant.

xo, Anne.

TTC Emotions After Loss

Trying to conceive is hard, hah - okay maybe not the act but when you've been trying for months and/or years the fun starts to disappear. The stress of timing, ovulation, charting and a parade of medications, tests and procedures will take it's toll on any couple, which I think in part is why "just relax" is so infuriating for couples who are trying to conceive because more often than not, it just isn't an option anymore.

But, trying to conceive after loss feels like you are trapped on this emotional roller coaster; half the time you are hoping and praying to get pregnant, all of the planning and over thinking of trying to conceive becomes a little more desperate especially when things like anniversaries or would've been due dates are looming in the near future. But you're hopeful, so it is still a little exciting and you figure you can handle a few more turns because maybe at the end of this two week wait you'll be pregnant and this time will be different, this time you'll stay pregnant and bring home a baby. The other half of the time, you're turned upside down and you're terrified. The "what if's" that have your mind spinning pull you in tightly; what if you loose another? what if you get past the first trimester then miscarry? what if you get to the end but it doesn't matter you still loose your baby? - what if next time isn't any different. You start to wonder if you can survive another loss, if your husband can handle carrying you through another heart break, how your family and friends will receive the news - Will their opinions of you trying again change? Will they think any less of you? Suddenly you realize, you're practically preparing for another loss and you haven't even gotten a positive yet.

It is such a mess and I've had a lot of those same emotions over these last cycles since the miscarriage, especially this last one. I remember how full of happiness I was when we were pregnant last but I also remember how much my heart broke when we found out our baby was gone and I am scared, I'm so scared to go through that again. But is the risk worth the reward? yes, I've heard it a thousand times and I know when we are finally holding that precious little baby all of this struggle will be worth it - when we get to hold our babies in heaven again, none of this struggle will have mattered either so of course we will keep trying but that doesn't mean I'm not scared. After you loose a baby, that innocence of happily pregnant turning into a healthy baby isn't there any more and while I continue to hope, there is a heaviness to the possibility of another pregnancy - that's just part of the territory.

So, I'm in the middle of my fertile window and in theory, heading into the two week wait any day now - CD15 today and dealing with the battery of emotions from struggling to conceive and trying after a loss. I feel like a hot mess, just crazy and emotional but hopeful.

xo, Anne.

Support through Infertility & Loss

I'm no stranger to sorting through my losses while watching people so close to me have babies; only a few months after saying goodbye to our son we learnt that our families would welcome two new babies right around the time that we should have been celebrating our son's first birthday. A family friend of ours welcomed their daughter in the same week that we faced the ectopic, and similarly with our struggles with infertility as we learnt after our first round on Clomid that we would welcome a new nephew or niece on what essentially would have been our due date had we been successful then.
So you would think after all this time I wouldn't so much as flinch at the idea of welcoming a new nephew to our families only a few weeks away from when we should have delivered ours.

But here I am, the sharp knife of jealousy sinking into my heart and it's not that I haven't been excited to meet and love on the precious babies that call me Auntie - because I have been and I do love each of them so dearly. But my heart hurts for me, for us, for the sweet babies we loved for such a short time before saying goodbye and it sucks.

So I thought I should write what I wish someone had given to the people around me back when my life after loss first began; to the family and friends, who love us and loved our sweet babies, that wished they could find the right words to say. I know everything was in best intentions, and I could never fault someone for doing the best that they could - heck I barely knew what I wanted or needed from the people around me as I bumbled along the path of grief, I could never expect more and I am so grateful that we have been surrounded by such loving and supportive people - I know we are incredibly blessed. But there have been moments, that I let slip by figuring I can manage, when I should have spoken up. So if you read this and make connections like "wait, I said that.." or "oh no, I don't do that.." don't be offended, I'm not writing this (or any part of my blog) in a malicious tone, this isn't to make anyone feel bad (whether you are in my life or here trying to understand a loved one) but instead to bring a voice to an otherwise silent and lonely grief.

Don't be afraid of us; sometimes I feel like I am some bad omen, that I am a reminder of the bad things that can happen and as long as everyone ignores it - as long as no one mentions it, everyone else lives happily ever after. I would never wish our pain on someone else, as much "Why Me?" as I can be sometimes - I also recognize "Why NOT Me?" and I would rather take the ache in my heart instead of watch this pain seethe through someone I care about. I don't deserve to have my grief swept under the rug because it makes someone else uncomfortable.

Do (try) to be gentle; things like pregnancy and babies, are incredibly difficult to hear about whether I am processing my struggles with infertility or grieving the loss of my pregnancies. I understand this is an exciting time for you, and you deserve to be excited, I know that you simply want to share this excitement with me but please try to be gentle. This has been so difficult with my miscarriage as we approach my would've been due date while I hear about all of the milestones and excitement that I should have been experiencing myself. I do not want to take away your excitement, moments shared with family members, baby showers, ultrasounds, ect. but I do not need a recap of everything. I am happy for you, but I am also hurting and processing my hurt, please be gentle with my heart. If I ask, fill me in but if I don't, please understand that I can't hear about all of this right now - like I said, I am happy for you, but hurting for myself.

Do try to be there for us; remember that I am grieving, just like any other death I am mourning the loss of someone I loved, I am mourning the memories I wont get to make and the dreams I had for our child. There is no time limit with grief and even if, to you, it feels like I should be over it - maybe I am not and I deserve to have as much understanding in my grief as someone grieving a grandparent/parent/spouse/friend. If you can, try to be there for us; grieving a child (or the hopes of) is incredibly lonely and it is nice to know you're not so alone all the time. You don't have to worry about having the right words, just being there is more than enough.

Don't be scared to mention our baby(ies); I think this is a big one that a lot of people avoid because they worry it will upset us or bring back the pain but you can't imagine how amazing it is to hear "I think about your son" my heart stops at the realization that he was really here, that people loved him and that he touched their hearts in a way that keeps them remembering him. That our son - who changed so much of who I am, isn't just something I should forget. That I am normal for thinking of him, that it isn't strange that I miss him or wonder what he would be like now. Having someone just mention our baby, is monumental, not heart breaking and while we may cry - those are happy tears.

Anyway I'm sure you could find a better list, maybe even a book, that could help you understand what your loved one is facing; I'm not writing this with expert knowledge, just my own experiences and a little bit of things I've picked up after spending these last years virtually sitting next to women just like me.

xo, Anne.

Blog Structure

I feel sort of awkward writing this, I mean, how many people are reading this? But lately I've been thinking that I want more for this blog than the here-and-there posts about my currently empty uterus. Obviously my fertility, our losses and hopeful pregnancy were always the intended subjects but lately I have been thinking of ways to add more; I process a lot of things here but there is so much that still gets left out because it isn't the usual optimistic, hopeful-Anne that seems to hang around the blog and that isn't because I am trying to appear better than I am, it happens because by the time I sit down to write, my emotions have been blurted out, ugly-cried over and talked out with my husband. So the blog typically gets the best of the whole process and I don't think that is fair, heck I'd probably want to punch me if I stumbled upon this blog because infertility and loss aren't always this hope-filled experience, sometimes it really sucks and those emotions deserve just as much attention here because anyone struggling with these things knows all too well how much we mask behind smiles - this is my blog, I'm not at a dinner or an event, this is my private place that you are coming to so if it gets ugly... well at least I'm not doing this during a baby shower, kidding ;) but you're always welcome to click away.

So, I think it is about time we get a little more real here, I'm going to bring back a little 'Truth Is' that I had started doing last year, thinking of adding a few other things/possibly side-stepping away from pregnancy, and I am going to start writing without holding back (it's already started since our miscarriage, then there are things like Infertility Sucks and some of the upcoming posts I have sitting in queue that will not be the typical Anne) It's going to get very real, but if this blog does anything to help the loss/infertility community gain awareness that our struggles and pain are very real - then so be it.

xo, Anne.

3 Years TTC

I can't recall the date but I know that February marks the beginning of our trying to conceive journey; Three years ago, my sweet husband and I decided we would begin trying to conceive our next baby. We were so careful, after loosing our precious son a year and a few months before, to make sure that we were both truly ready to try again. With two early losses thrown into the mix, I can't believe that three years ago we decided to try again and yet, three years later we are still hoping and praying for our baby.

Sometimes I can't believe it, sometimes I feel as if I must be dreaming this struggle because it doesn't make sense that two perfectly healthy people struggle this much to have a baby. But here we are, three years later, I am still somewhat hopeful and I feel like this year may be it. Since my miscarriage last fall my body and cycles have changed some and it gives me hope that we will get pregnant soon. I pray it will be soon. 

So, here's to three years and while I hope that we won't hit the four year mark but if we do I know that there is still a lot of fight left in us and so many options still available. Three years in and I am not ready to give up.

Infertility - It Sucks!

As if swallowing the thought of (possibly) never having a child isn't difficult enough, as a couple facing infertility there are so many things that just make this struggle a little bit harder - I just wanted to write some of them out. I ask that anyone reading, please do not take this offensively I am able to recognize that people don't do these things maliciously (or at least, majority don't) it just comes with the territory.

1. "You're not pregnant yet?" or any variation of the like; I know people are curious and for the most part it doesn't occur to most that someone they know may be dealing with infertility ( heck, in the past I'm sure I've done it without thinking) but when I hear that question my heart drops a little and I wonder how to best answer the question which usually leads to an awkward pause and a no. For the most part, and this goes for our losses as well as our infertility, I don't share with others - when I do it is a big deal and generally means I value and trust you. It takes a lot of consideration, a lot of wondering how to best share something so personal and for me, I worry about how someone else will handle our story.

2. "I'm pregnant!!" every pregnancy announcement, and every pregnant woman or mother, is a little reminder of all the things we pray and hope for, and every heart break we have felt over not getting pregnant. I get jealous, I over-analyze them and wonder what is so wrong with us? What did we do wrong that they got right? and I know logically that it has nothing to do with us, that their pregnancy and happiness isn't an attack on our struggles. But it is hard to hear and see, when you so desperately wish it was you too.

3. People who complain about their pregnancy/child drive me mad, and again I can recognize that it is difficult to be a parent. I'm sure things get frustrating and depending on the outlet I understand there could be a need to complain. However, standing on the outside looking in I am reminded of a quote "The things that you take for granted, someone else is wishing for" and it kind of sucks for the person wishing to listen to what seems like trivial complaints - Um sort of off topic, but I have dropped 'wishing' for nonsense all together, I don't 'wish for a new car!' or 'wish my hair looked like that' and it irks me when people do that while all I am thinking of is that there are people wishing for so much more than this - wishing for a cure, wishing for warmth or food at the end of the day, wishing for something that makes these little things seem so insignificant.

4. "Don't worry, you're young" oh my goodness how I hate hearing that. Yes, I am young and I realize that I have a lot of life ahead of me but that doesn't change or diminish how much I want to be a mother or how good of a mother I will be. I know people are trying to be comforting but at the same time I don't want to "focus on my career" or "go traveling" I know a lot of young couples do these things and that they are happy with where their lives are and that is so good for them. But I'm talking about me and my marriage, we have decided we want to start our family and just because things are difficult for us means we should just be happy because we are "young" no, not okay with that.

5. "Just relax" we have actually tried "just relaxing" and it didn't do us any good. However I do try to avoid getting stressed out over our cycles, I don't personally try to plan our sex but I do watch for certain indications and if we happen to have sex great! But when you are taking fertility medication there is actually a window that you SHOULD be having sex or why bother putting your body through the medication and suddenly "just relax" can't happen, and even if you aren't on fertility medication there is a certain part of your cycle that gives you your best chance at conception and missing it means another month wasted.

6. and, finally the monthly roller coaster you seem to live on; right after your period you start tracking your cycle, you hope that ovulation will come along and you think, maybe we actually timed things out right. Then you sit in the two week wait, wondering if it is still too early to test and wait?! was that a symptom? did this happen last month? Scouring forums and blogs for stories like yours, stories that end with a baby. You start to feel hopeful that this could be it, finally, figuring out your possible due date and imagining how your life will change then. You review your chart and things look great, you really start to think that this month might be it and you begin imagining telling your husband and your families -  how excited everyone will be. Then the temp drops, or you get that negative test, or your period comes along and while you realize that you still have a chance next month, you grieve and cry, wondering what went wrong. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

I am sure there is so much more, but my mind has started to wander and I think I should close this before I start to really ramble.

Healthy Habits & Weight Loss

After my ectopic pregnancy, the distaste I felt towards myself and my body after loosing our son in 2008 only escalated. I began neglecting the healthy habits I had built, wondering why I should bother when it did nothing to help my pregnancies. I mean, people have babies all over the world with bodies in worst shape than mine. Logically, I know the benefits to having such good healthy habits for both pregnancy as well as everyday life easily prove that staying healthy IS what is best. I am also well aware that these good habits had nothing to do with my losses or struggles, those just happened. I also like to have that bit of knowledge that I DID do everything I could to give our babies the absolute best. But sometimes, I get very frustrated; why SHOULD I maintain a healthy weight? why SHOULD I eat healthy? why SHOULD I keep taking these disgusting pills? why SHOULD I bother avoiding the pregnancy no-no foods? a lot of people don't bother with any of these and still get pregnant and still have their babies, why should I bother?

Yeah, sometimes my head isn't very nice, trust me, it is a lot meaner to me than anyone else. 

ANYWAY, while we took time off from the ectopic and I neglected those healthy habits I started to gain weight, I went from my happy little pre-pregnancy (even after our son) weight of 115lbs to 140lbs. It didn't happen over night, actually that weight gain encompasses the entire time we struggled with infertility, so it took more than two years before I hit my highest at 142lbs. Once I got my head out of the sand I realized these bad habits weren't okay, I started to move back to healthy eating and exercising - it was always a huge stress because my work outs were high intensity and nothing I would want to subject my pregnancy to, so I would worry and time out these workouts during the window of my cycle where I wasn't pregnant. Yes, I spent a little less than two weeks each month doing these big work outs then the other two(ish) weeks going without. I started to fluctuate a little with my weight and my body felt much better despite the whacky exercise routine. I regularly checked with my family doctor and my obstetrician that I was still at a healthy weight for pregnancy, which they always assured me that I was. But my head always felt differently and while we struggled with the infertility I wondered if my weight had anything to do with it, judging from my past two pregnancies where I got pregnant easily it definitely added fuel to my suspicions but since we were midst Clomid cycles I decided to accept my doctor and obstetrician's approval and try not to worry.

We did get pregnant, after more than two years of trying and a handful of Clomid rounds, I lost a couple pounds during my brief pregnancy and had assumed that my body was just adjusting to taking care of both me and our baby. I am two months post D&C and am now sitting at 132lbs, an amazing 10lbs less than my heaviest and about 8lbs less than I was at the beginning of our last Clomid cycle - I have also dropped inches all over and now sit at 36-29-36.5 HOLY MOLY!! I have now accepted that my body has changed (say hello to my hips & chest! haha) since that first positive test five years ago and it will no longer look proportioned at 115 like it did when I was younger. This is my adult body, this is my post pregnancy body - it carried our son all the way past his due date, it has definitely changed and that isn't a bad thing. 

My eating habits are much better (after my meltdown post miscarriage), I've upped my water intake again, I am slowly returning to that good sleeping routine and after the holidays I will get back to exercising and being more active. I'm not looking to loose more weight, to be honest I wasn't even looking to loose the weight I have lost already, I am happy where I am now and if all that comes from returning to those good healthy habits is feeling better then I am okay with that.

I can't help but wonder if this is the turning point? that things will be easier? that my cycles will regulate and we will find ourselves pregnant quickly? I can't imagine how amazing that would be. 

Once

I've lost my third pregnancy and the little hope I held so tightly onto is quickly fading, I can barely even believe that I will ever be a mom. What is so wrong with me? I've done everything right yet I have to face this pain all over again? Loosing our son was by far the worst, holding our precious little boy, otherwise perfect but so quite, so still. I couldn't even comprehend the pain, sometimes I still can't. I quickly fell into hating myself after loosing him, I hated my body on the outside; how it echoed the body of a mother with no sign of my child. I hated my body on the inside even more; this bitter hatred I carried seethed deeply in my veins, I hated how my body failed me and even more how it failed my son.

I hated how time continued even though I could barely catch my breath.

When we got pregnant again, I thought that we could be hopeful - lightening couldn't strike twice? But I knew almost right away that something was wrong and while I held onto hope that we couldn't be facing a second loss I had barely the time to process what was going on by the time it ended. But it was never viable, I never had the chance to fall in love with all the possibilities our second pregnancy could have held.

The hatred escalated, I gained weight and over the course of two years we struggled heavily with infertility. How could my body fail me so much? I was young, healthy (even despite the weight gain) and the doctors couldn't find a thing wrong with me.

That anger, that bitter hate I carried around continued to grow. I would see parents everywhere I went treating their kids poorly, not in the ways that someone who isn't a mother judges a mother, but things that should be obvious. I've been surrounded by people who get pregnant with no effort or thought who don't do everything right (some that don't do anything right) but can still manage to bring a healthy child into this world. I'm left bewildered, wondering what could possibly be so wrong with me? What could I be doing so wrong? What have I done to deserve to not be a mother? The doctors put me on fertility drugs, hoping soon enough that I would get pregnant.

Then, on our forth and worst run with Clomid I got my positive. Oh how amazing that positive was after two and a half years of hoping and praying. I was pregnant and suddenly, that hatred for myself began to fade. This was it, now I could be happy. Now, finally, we could be happy, our little family of three - oh how I had prayed so long for this.

There was other turmoil in our lives during my third pregnancy, things that made it so incredibly difficult to remember how happy I deserved to be. I had waited so long for this pregnancy and in the short weeks I spent pregnant, I definitely didn't expect to have to drag my aching heart through another painful obstacle.

Then, as if things couldn't get any worse - as if that cold, hard floor wasn't bad enough. I started bleeding and an ultrasound confirmed my worst fears, my precious baby was dead. The one hope I had left, my one little reason to be happy, my light at the end of this terrible, miserable tunnel was gone. In that dark room every bit of happiness died. In that dark room, on a day where even the sun didn't shine and the clouds were heavy with gloom, I lost hold of every piece of my former self, that happy and free girl I used to be was gone.

Once, I was happy, truly happy and free of this weight in my heart. I don't have the slightest clue what that kind of happiness is anymore.