14 weeks, 6 days

Today was a day. And not an easy one.

I wasn't going to announce this yet. I was going to keep this to myself for a little bit longer and enjoy not having everyone asking me every two seconds how I was feeling. I can somehow still physically hide it. And I was planning on doing that until we passed the 22-week mark. But, I know, better than most, that there is no "safe" time to announce it. Ben and I are expecting again. I will be 15 weeks tomorrow.

It's been a ride so far. I stupidly thought I wasn't going to be one of those people who let her first pregnancy control her second one. I went into this knowing we had a plan, that the chances of a positive outcome were better. But, I also went into this thinking that getting pregnant again would somehow heal me. Would somehow make me less sad about the baby I lost. And obviously, as I knew but needed to be proven, it doesn't work that way. The pain is still raw, it's still real, it's still deep, and it's still unbearable. If anything, there are days when this new pregnancy makes the loss feel worse.

I really wanted to get pregnant again as soon as we were given the all clear. And I pretty much did. Apparently, I get pregnant pretty easily. It's staying that way that's the hard part. There were no tears of joy this time, either. There was no jumping up and down. There was no celebrating. I took a test because we were trying, and I wanted to know. There was no surprise or shock. It just was what it was. "Are you pregnant?" "Yeah. Are you happy?" "I am."

I wasn't as initially scared as I was the first time. Ooooh man, that first time was dark for the first few days. Not because I didn't want it, but because I was so friggin' shocked. I had never expected it to happen so fast. But, I got excited. I started getting ready. I had some stuff already set up in what would have been the baby's room. I started trying to picture what our life and our apartment would be like with a baby in it. But, somehow, I still never really felt "attached." I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of doom every day that I drove to work. Like, I knew somewhere deep down that this would end in tragedy. I thought I was going to get in a car accident (which I actually did), but now I know it must have been everything else. It never felt "right."

It's taking me a while to feel attached to this baby too. I thought finding out the gender early would help form a bond, but that led to gender disappointment that unexpectedly knocked the wind out of me. What kind of a monster am I to care what gender my child is after already losing one? Maybe I don't deserve this baby after all. That was the same day that I got concerning news at work and was made to feel like my job was on the line. It was a dark, dark day. And it was the day before my birthday. One of the worst I've ever had.

That being said, I've come around. I've had roughly four weeks to sit with the news, and unlike last time, we have a name picked out already. So, at least this baby will get to be named. But, today...today was just bad. And I felt it coming. It started when I was texting my mom about stuff at work and I could feel myself getting emotional. Why was I getting so emotional about something that had only ever made me angry before? I knew then it was going to be a rough day. I spent the rest of the day trying not to cry.

But, it wasn't just the sadness that was overtaking me. It was an overwhelming panic. I kept hearing this internal voice screaming "Get this baby out of me!!!" I did not want to be pregnant today. I did not feel at all prepared for this. I felt broken and scared and sad and completely emotionally unfit to take this on. Should I have waited longer to get pregnant? I don't know.

I warned Ben before I came home that I was an emotional wreck and I'd likely just come home, take a warm bath, read, and go to bed. He agreed to give me my space, but we still managed to have dinner together. He cooked. After a comment about something he had said to me today and clarification that "that's not what I'm upset about, but it didn't help," he tried to get me to pinpoint what exactly was wrong. I told him some of the thoughts I'd had above. He had some ideas that I just kept shrugging off. And then, he said, "you know your head better than I do, but maybe you feel guilty. You're having these feelings that you probably had the last time, but now they're magnified because you feel guilty for feeling them. You lost a baby that you still miss very much and you feel guilty for feeling anything other than happiness." And I lost it. Completely broke down in tears. I'm guessing he hit it on the head. I don't know how he does that, but I am so damn grateful for him sometimes. Through my tears I told him that this is what I'd been holding back all day. He asked me why I was holding it back. Maybe I just needed to let it out. And I said I just didn't want to cry anymore. When do I get to be happy again? "When you get to hold that baby," he said.

But, that feels so far away...

That did make me feel better. And then, I did take my bath (with a brand new candle!), and I thought about things, and I decided that maybe I need to tell people what's going on so I don't feel so alone. I know most of my friends (thankfully) won't understand these feelings at all. But, I know some of you who will, and just knowing that you're supporting me from afar may make all the difference. I've been depressed lately. Really, really depressed, and I don't know if it's because of everything going on at work or because of this pregnancy after loss situation, but I know that I need some people in my corner. And so, here it is. Be gentle with me, be patient with me. But mostly, send me all the good vibes you can muster, because I need them.

While you're at it, send a little sympathy my way for these damn shots I need to take every day.

These bastards hurt!! And I'm mad about it. Especially on days like today.

I have taken 60 total. 60 shots for someone who has spent
her entire life avoiding having any. We are not even halfway there.

13 weeks, 1 day

Today, we had our first official ultrasound. By this point, I had pretty much convinced myself that I had lost the baby (again). I'm not really gaining any weight, I have virtually no pregnancy symptoms, and I just don't "feel" pregnant. All of this is right in line with my last pregnancy - and that one ended in disaster. I didn't think I'd be this person. I didn't think my feelings about this pregnancy would be tainted by the last one. We have a plan this time. I'm on medication. I'm being monitored. Everything will be fine.

Except, it's impossible to think that way once you know the potential outcomes. The innocence is gone. I don't want to say there's no joy or excitement in a pregnancy after loss, but it's definitely different. It's more relief than anything else. Seeing that baby move on the monitor. The ultrasound technician was frustrated that the baby wasn't in the right position to get the picture she needed, and all I said to her was "I'm just happy to see it move." Because that's where your mind is. You don't know what you'll see.

This was the first time I grabbed Ben's hand before anything showed up on the monitor. I was excited, but definitely nervous. How would everything look? Are we growing as we should? Are we developing properly? But, everything is fine. Baby is growing appropriately (measuring two days ahead, actually). All tests have come back normal so far. We are on the right track. But, it's hard not to think that we were on the right track last time too. And then, suddenly, we weren't. But, this is a different pregnancy that will hopefully result in a different outcome. I have to remind myself that we will get to take this baby home.

Seeing these images helps:

Looks like a literal peanut! 💓

That profile, though! Ahhh! 

That's our little wiggle worm. Our sweet baby. These images were needed today. I've been having a really hard time at work, and with some things at home, and I just wasn't feeling great mentally. It was the first time I was able to vocalize to someone that I wasn't okay. I showed up at work on Monday and cried at my desk for an hour before I was able to start doing any actual work. I've been in a very bad place lately. And, I'm really sorry to admit that taking care of this baby has not been a priority. I've been eating like crap, and just not really caring. And I think that is part of the reason why I'd convinced myself the baby was gone - because it was easier to think that than to worry about how I was taking care of it. But, seeing these today renewed me. I am not living for myself anymore. I'm living for this little one. This little tiny peanut bean who needs me. And while it's okay to not be okay, I need to figure out a way to be "okay enough" to take care of this little one. And these images help. A lot.

We had a meeting with the MFM doctor after our ultrasound, and we just confirmed a lot of things. He confirmed that I'm doing the right treatments with the aspirin and the shots that I'm doing. (Oh, did you want to see how those are going????) Here you go:

This was taken a few days ago. It's much more purple now.

He told us to get our blood pressure cuff "calibrated" next time we visit the OB to make sure the readings are close enough to theirs. We need to watch my blood pressure incredibly closely. It seems to be the biggest concern. And, they are oddly considering me as having chronic high blood pressure, which isn't true. I never had a high BP reading in my entire life until my loss last year. I began being treated for it regularly afterwards because the numbers weren't going down to where they should have been. So, I don't know. I guess I'm chronic now. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. 

We also discussed the likelihood of having a Christmas baby. The official due date is January 14th, but given my history, the chances of being induced early are higher than normal. Full-term is considered 37 weeks, which puts me right at Christmas Eve. This poor child. Hopefully we can hold on until at least the 28th, right? And listen, going two weeks or more early puts me in line to be able to get the tax write-off for 2019, AND my insurance deductible won't renew. Obviously, we want what's best for baby, but those are definite positives. The doctor seems to agree. So, Christmas baby it is! Ho ho ho! 🎄🎅

And for anyone who wants to know, yes, we know the gender. We've known for about a week and a half now. But, we're going to keep that one to ourselves for a bit longer. 😊 It's fun having that little secret.

So, all good news this week. We're set up for our next ultrasound, which will be at 17 weeks, and we have another appointment with our OB on Monday evening. So, we're chugging along. It's an absolutely terrifying journey, but I hear the rewards are worth it.

10 weeks

Today, I am exactly ten weeks into my second pregnancy. I am feeling surprisingly good. I had a little bit of nausea this afternoon, but otherwise, that's been fine. Food aversions and/or cravings haven't started yet, and I definitely don't have back pain like I did the last time. I remember having back pain pretty much the entire time, and I asked about it at every appointment, only to be told it was normal "round ligament pain." I should have insisted it was more, because it obviously was.

Since my last entry, I had an appointment last night. Apparently, I was two days early for any of the 10-week blood tests that needed to be done. "I told you to come back in 4 weeks, you came back in 3 weeks, 5 days." Uuuuuuugh! Who knew two days made such a big difference? So, I have to be back tomorrow morning for the blood work. But, we did get to hear the baby's heartbeat. It's nice and strong at about 170. Right where it should be.

I didn't have a long list of questions this time like I usually do, but if you're ready for some TMI, I did have some concerns. Because, listen, pregnancy is not glamorous. It's not all peaches and roses, and even though this is our "rainbow" baby, it's not rainbows and unicorns either. Sometimes it's downright disgusting. That being said, I am constipated as hell. Since my last appointment, I've been to the bathroom a total of about 4 times. That's more or less once a week. No good. So, the doctor suggested Metamucil. I searched for it briefly today and only found the kind that lessen your appetite. I definitely don't want that right now, so I'll have to search for more this weekend.

Another question was about allergies. Because, seriously, I can't breathe. And this happened during my last pregnancy, too, and I took my inhaler a few times, but I really wasn't supposed to. I know that wasn't the cause of the loss, but still...I'd rather not take it again. I don't have the typical runny nose or itchy eyes, or scratchy throat, etc. Literally just trouble breathing. But, sometimes it nearly throws me into a panic attack because it's scary. So, the doctor suggested Zyrtec or Claritin...both of which cause drowsiness, and honestly, I cannot handle being any more tired than I am. So, I may just have to deal with this one. We'll see how it goes.

I also asked if I could eat hot dogs. I know that seems really, really random, but I've always heard that you're not supposed to eat them when you're pregnant. But, they weren't listed on any of the paperwork I received telling me what not to eat. I also didn't find any mention of it online. So, I asked. Because the 4th of July is coming up and it's not the 4th of July without hot dogs. I was pregnant last 4th too and didn't get to have any, so I WANT ONE! Dr. D said it's fine, as long as it's cooked. Obviously.

But, anyway, since I'm into my tenth week now, things are getting serious, I guess. Second trimester is only two weeks away. At this time in my last pregnancy, I was definitely not showing at all. Maybe a little bit of bloating, but nothing noticeable. Today, I look like this:

I know it's hard to tell, but that's just about what I looked like when I lost my last pregnancy at 22 weeks. I'm not even halfway to that point yet. Dr. D assures me there's only one in there, though. 

It's getting harder to hide it at work. And I don't necessarily want to hide it, but I'm not quite ready for everyone to be asking how I feel all the time. I hate it. I hate being the center of attention. And I know this time, everyone will be more worried because of how catastrophic my last pregnancy was. I am excited to be expecting my rainbow, but not excited to face the well-meaning questioners. I'm sure they will be talking amongst themselves soon! Who will be the first one to ask?! 

Aside from that, the changes between this pregnancy and the last are pretty minor. I've had virtually no morning sickness with both. And with both, if it wasn't for the tiny little bump and the knowledge that I was pregnant, I probably wouldn't know. I'm just tired. That's my biggest complaint. However, I'd say the biggest change is the amount of medication I'm on. Before I got pregnant for the first time, I was only on two medications:

The pink one is for acid reflux, which I've been taking since college. The white one is for depression, which I've been taking about five or six years now. Very low dosage. Easily part of my daily routine. I don't even think about them anymore. 

The cause of my loss was due to sudden and severe early onset pre-eclampsia caused by a clotting disorder I didn't know I had. Because my blood pressure spiked so high (high 100s/low 100s), I was put on a blood pressure medication, which I've needed to stay on since then. So, now we're up to three:

Still not a huge deal. Tiny pill, but it's taken twice a day, so now instead of taking all my pills at once, I need to remember a second time during the day. Annoying but manageable. 

After I was diagnosed with the clotting disorder, I was told that any further pregnancies would require baby aspirin and a blood-thinner injection. I was crushed, to be honest. Needles are not my favorite. I have avoided them at all costs until this point in my life. I've cancelled doctor appointments to avoid getting them. My first blood draw as an adult was when I got pregnant. I'm a baby, truly. So, one of my first thoughts was, "is this even worth it at this point?" It seemed daunting. It seemed impossible. And man, was I mad. Why me? There are so many people out there popping out babies they shouldn't be having. People with no security, no stability, addicted to drugs, etc. And here I am, working my whole life to get to a point where I'd feel comfortable bringing a baby into the world, and I've basically been told I can't. M.A.D.

It was a process at first. I had days where I knew I was most definitely not okay. I got lost on the way home from work one day because of a detour, and I kept missing the turn I needed, and I just broke down at a stop sign and kept repeating to myself, "I am not okay." I came home, hugged my husband, and said with tears in my eyes that there was a chance this wouldn't happen for us. He said he knew and held me while I let it out. So, yes, I mourned this life I thought I would have. And perhaps that was dramatic of me, because certainly people with this condition have children all the time. But, for me, it didn't seem possible.

But, I got over it, so to speak. We made a plan. We'd try twice more, and if it didn't happen, then we'd discuss other options. I refuse to be the person who spends her entire life trying to have a baby. My physical and mental health can't handle it. So, we waited until we got the okay and started trying again. And just like before, we succeeded on the first try! How crazy that I can get pregnant so easily, but staying pregnant is the challenge. Frustrating.

Since then, you've been on the journey with me. And my medications now look like this:

What's been added there is the blood thinner injection (once a day), the baby aspirin (once a day, tiny little yellow pill), and a prenatal vitamin (twice a day), which for some reason is the hardest of all of them for me to take.

So, I'm doing it. I'm getting it done. I'm taking my shots. I'm taking my pills. Everyone was right when they told me I'd get used to it. I've tried some of their tips. Some of them worked and some didn't. I start by icing it for 20 minutes. This takes away the initial sting of the needle itself. At this point, I barely feel that part. But, ooooh, the medication burns. And it's been suggested by many to do the shot sloooooowly, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Ben does the shots for me and every time he's tried to do it slow, it's hurt more than usual. So, he does it quickly, it burns for a minute or two, I ice it again, and then we're over it. Yes, it sucks. Yes, some days I'm still mad about it. But, honestly, it's not nearly as awful as I anticipated. Somehow, miraculously, I've taken all of these so far:

That's 25, minus the one the nurse gave me on the first day. So, twenty-six in total so far. I have not even begun to climb that hill, but I can see the end now. It doesn't seem impossible anymore. It doesn't seem so terrifying. I don't feel so helpless anymore, or as sad as I was. I am optimistic. And, my initial feeling of "well, I guess we're only having one kid, because I can't do this more than once" has gone. I think I could do this again. :) But, we're only at the beginning.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I am so friggin' proud of myself, and I know that this baby will be so unbelievably loved and cherished for all we've gone through to bring him/her into this world. We just have to hang in there for 30 more weeks.

6 weeks, 3 days

Today, I am 6 weeks, 3 days. We had our first ultrasound yesterday to confirm viability. Baby measures at exactly 6 weeks, and there was a visible heartbeat.

At this point, this means I need to start my blood thinner injections. I have been dreading this. I have been nervous about it, because I absolutely hate needles. I have been known to cancel doctor appointments in the past because they wanted to draw blood or give me a shot. In the last two weeks, though, I have already had three blood-draws, and now a blood thinner injection. They let me lay down for it and showed Ben very carefully how to do it. I was more nervous for that than for the blood draw, and for good reason, it seems, because it hurt like hell. The entire time, it hurt. I've seen and heard many tips to go slowly, because it minimizes the pain and bruising, but in reality, it only hurt for a minute or two and then it was over. BUT, it was painful to the touch for the rest of the day. And, since we are in the process of moving, this was a problem. It was hard for me to carry anything. And I also immediately had to take a nap when I got home, because it exhausted me on top of my regular tiredness and pregnancy tiredness.

Initially, there was only a teeny tiny dot from the injection. As the day went on, it began to look like this. The next morning, the bruise was much darker, but the overall site didn't hurt as much.

But, in any case, I, of course, had questions for the doctor before they even administered the shot. And, as always, he was incredibly helpful in answering them.

1. Does the shot have to be in the stomach?
No, but that's where most people find it easiest to do.

2. What if I forget to take it? Can I take it late?
This one, he didn't want to answer for me last time. This time, he just told me, within a few hours of my usual time is fine.

3. Can I use a gel ice pack?
I only asked this because the box told me to ask if it was okay to use. It is.

4. If I'm given the shot now (8am), can I switch to taking it at night, or do I need to continue taking it in the morning?
I can switch. It's too early to make a difference at this point.

5. Are there any restrictions while I'm on it? Foods/lifting/travel?
Take more calcium, try not to injure yourself because you'll bleed more, and road trips are fine, because I'll have to pee every hour anyway.

6. Are there side effects? When should I call?
Biggest side effect is injection site bruising. If the bruise becomes very large, then call.

He was incredibly thorough and went through everything in the folder they gave me at my last appointment (that I didn't bring along, because I wasn't told I needed it). He filled out prescription forms for my next three ultrasounds. During my last pregnancy, I saw, until my very last appointment, the nurse practitioner. This was not my experience with her. She was wonderful, and she was very nice, and answered my questions, but she didn't go over any of the things in that folder. I had the same questions every time I saw her (why does my back hurt already? and why can't I breathe?) and she told me it was all normal, but looking back, I still don't think it was. So, I'm a little annoyed with myself for not seeing the doctor the first time around. To be honest, I was repulsed by the idea of having a male gynecologist. As it is, he only ended up as my doctor because he was the only one who could perform the procedure I needed after we lost the baby. I'm incredibly grateful it was him, because he's wonderful. In fact, after our ultrasound, he came into the exam room, and said, "Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!" He also gave me a hug at my follow-up appointment after my loss. He's incredibly kind, and compassionate, and knowledgeable, and I'm very lucky to have him.

At this point, there's not much different than a regular pregnancy, except for the injections. I will go back in 4 weeks, when we will hopefully get some more testing. Since I'm high risk, we can find out the baby's gender at 10 weeks with genetic testing, instead of waiting until 20 weeks for the anatomy scan, so I'm excited about that. We'll be monitored closely throughout the pregnancy, especially as we get farther along. And I know more now that I did during the last one, so I'm more aware of my body and what to look for and when to call. I'm feeling confident and so is the doctor. I think we'll actually get to take this baby home. <3

4 weeks

I will not be making this public for a few more weeks, but we are officially expecting again. For some silly reason, I had begun to believe that it wouldn't happen for us, despite the fact that it's only been a few months since we started trying again. I was convinced I was now completely infertile and that I was getting too old. Just this past week, on Saturday, I had convinced myself that it's "for the best" if I'm not pregnant this month, because we're moving. Two weeks from tomorrow, we are moving to a beautiful townhouse in Chester Springs. It's been a long road to get there, and expensive as hell, but I can't wait to be out of this apartment in this cluttered town. There are three bedrooms, two window seats, massive closets, an enormous kitchen, and an awesome basement that we have plans to finish soon. BUT, who knows if we'll be able to afford that now. The pressure is on, for sure. I am terrified. I'm nervous. I'm anxious.

I got a positive test on Sunday, the same day my period was due. I had convinced myself this time that I wasn't pregnant. I didn't want to get my hopes up and start planning, and getting nervous if there was no reason for any of it. But, when my period didn't come by Sunday night, I had to take a test to ease my mind. I had taken one five says prior, which came back negative, but it was clearly too soon. This one was pretty clearly positive:

It was a bit anti-climactic in our house. Unlike the last time, we had been actively trying. We were not surprised, we were not shocked. I showed the test to Ben and asked "how many lines do you see?" He said, "One. Or two...are you pregnant?" And I said, "Depending on that second line, I think so." The second line showed up much clearer within minutes. I asked if he was excited. He said yes. I asked if he was happy. He said yes. But, let's not make this all rainbows and candy canes: We're terrified. 

I called the doctor's office on Monday (yesterday) to make an appointment. No one answered at first, so I left a message, stating that I wanted to make an appointment with Dr. D, that I thought I was pregnant, and that I wanted to come in to confirm and get some guidance from the doctor. I got a return phone call an hour or so later from the nurse. She set up the appointment for the next day, and then asked me how far along I was. My initial thought was: How the hell should I know?? That's why I'm setting up an appointment! But, I answered, "I don't know, a couple weeks." To which she very snarkily answered, "We don't like to set up appointments that early, Kim." I CANNOT STAND WHEN PEOPLE DROP MY NAME LIKE THAT! The only reason to do that is to talk down to someone. Don't talk to me like I'm a child. This isn't my first rodeo. And if you had listened to my message or checked my file AT ALL, you would know why I'm making an appointment "that early." In any case, I somehow calmly explained to her that I'm considered high risk this time and was instructed by the doctor to call as soon as I got a positive test. She relented.

Now, today, Tuesday, I have had my first appointment. Since it is so early, there was no ultrasound, or heartbeat check, or any physical examination. I spoke to the doctor and asked my list of questions:

1. Are there any restrictions: diet, sex, travel, lifting, exercise?

No, but if I want to get out of that work trip I'm supposed to take, he can arrange that. :)

2. What are the chances of repeat pre-eclampsia?

Higher than average, but likely not as early as the previous one. And now that we know what caused it, perhaps not at all.

3. What should I be looking for? 

Rapid weight gain, swelling, get an at-home blood pressure cuff.

4. What can I do to prevent it?

We are doing what we need to be doing with the aspirin and the injections. (The injections will not be started for a few more days, two weeks at the most)

5. What will be done/monitored differently this time?

A LOT. Ultrasounds every 4 weeks for the first 20 weeks or so. After 30 weeks, appointments twice a week. We already know I'll be on the shots, and if I request, I can come in even more to be checked.

6. How likely are we to lose this one too?

Again, higher than average, but now that we know what caused the first one, the chances are lower.

7. Will I get that sick again?

Hopefully not!

8. How often will appointments/ultrasounds be?

Already answered.

9. How likely is early delivery?

That all depends on the growth of the baby. We may get to exactly 37 weeks (full-term) and decide to induce, because the chances of something going wrong after that increase. (37 weeks puts us right around Christmas!)

10. Will I need to be induced/have a C-section?

Yet to be determined. Again, all depends on the baby's growth and how healthy I am. 

I am officially 4 weeks today. Due date is January 12, 2020. I asked in the beginning what the chances of a Christmas baby are and he responded, "I'll be very happy if we get you that far." So, highly likely...?

In any case, the doctor seems really positive. He is confident that we are doing everything right and that we are on the right track for a healthy pregnancy and full-term baby. This eases my mind a little, but does not make me less nervous about the process. Also, how the hell are we going to afford a new house and a new baby? 

Life happens quickly, and I am incredibly unprepared. But, how lucky I am. 

Grief

Grief is a confusing and frustrating thing. Just when you think you are starting to heal, it feels almost as if you're back at the beginning. And although, while knowing "there's no time limit on grief," it still feels like you should be moving on, like you should be "getting over it," like you should feel better than you do.

Today has been hard, for no discernible reason. Maybe it's because it's the 19th. I have a feeling that day will forever be hard. My miscarriage was on the 19th of October. My due date was on the 19th of February. It's a dreaded day. It's a hard day. It was supposed to be a happy day.

I remember feeling, within weeks after leaving the hospital, that I got over things too fast. I felt like a monster, like this baby didn't mean enough to me. I didn't feel sad enough, like there was something wrong with me. There were days when I was so upset that I hadn't thought about the baby for the entire day. I didn't want to forget about her. I didn't want to forget that she existed. I feel like there were far more happier days then than there are now.

It's been five months since the miscarriage. In my mind, I feel like I should be over it by now. I shouldn't be as sad as I am, but today...today feels endless, bottomless, hopeless. There is an unbearable heaviness on my heart. It feels truly like I'm having a continuous panic attack for hours on end, like it's hard to breathe. It hurts to pick my head up, it's a struggle to move my arms, to walk across the room, to keep my eyes open, to write this...

I remember when my stepdad died, saying that there was now such a definitive timeline of things: those that happened "before" and those that happened "after." And that's how it feels now, too. Before this happened, I was happier, optimistic. I rushed to hold any baby, to spend time with any child, to ask parents to see pictures, to hear stories, to surround myself with all things baby. And now, after, god, those conversations hurt. Those pictures crush my spirit, make things feel impossible. Those should be my photos. I should be the one telling stories now.

I got locked in a conversation with two coworkers the other day about babies. The one woman was telling a story about changing her daughter's diaper when she was about three months old - it was a blow-out, a disgusting story. And, it made me so incredibly sad. To think that some day I'd be sad about not being able to clean baby poop off a wall. Grief is weird.

Today is a day that feels impossible. I still struggle with not wanting to forget that that baby existed. I told Ben the other day that I don't want to be sad anymore, but I also don't want to forget our girl. And, it still doesn't feel like those two things can exist at the same time. How can I ever be happy again while still remembering the baby I lost? How can I remember what should have been without feeling an unbelievable emptiness? Some days I think, "If I can just get pregnant again, then I'll feel better," but am I just trying to replace her? No matter how many future babies there are or aren't, that one still existed. She was still real. And we still never got to hold her. She's still gone. And any other ones that are conceived will be different babies. It's not the same.

I have always prided myself in bouncing back from things quickly. I've been through my fair share of difficulties. Things always sort of happen at once for me. The ceiling caves in and the bottom falls out all at once. And this obviously falls solidly into that category. And, at first, I did bounce back fast. The doctors were shocked with how quickly I was better, how soon I wanted to go home, how great I looked a week later. But, emotionally, it feels endless. It's only been and it's already been five months at the same time. There are days when I'm able to tell myself "use this sadness to get you through the next pregnancy. Remember this sadness and do what you have to do to see the next one through." Because, being told I have to give myself daily injections for nearly a year feels impossible to me. They may as well have told me I can't have kids. Days like today, I can't do it. And I'm so scared that there will be too many of these days during an actual pregnancy. What happens on those days when I can't do it? What happens on the days when I'm just too emotionally drained to put myself through it? Again, it feels impossible.

Today, the weight of the world is on my chest. Today, there's a boulder on my heart and an emptiness in my stomach. Today, I resent your baby pictures, and your pregnancy photos, and your happiness. Today, I can't do it. But, grief is weird, and it's unpredictable, and it's confusing. So, tomorrow may be better. Ben and I have a short road trip planned for the weekend coming up, and it will be the first time we've gotten away from everything since it all happened. It's desperately needed. To reconnect with each other, away from the stress, away from the sadness, away from the memories. It's the first thing I've had to look forward to in five months, and I am hoping beyond reason that it will re-energize me and make me feel alive again. In the meantime, I grieve - still - and I try to breathe.

A Letter to My Daughter

My Dear Girl,
I hate today. I hate this month. I hate what's coming.

Two weeks from today is February 19th. Two weeks from today is exactly four months since we lost you. Two weeks from today is your due date. The day we were supposed to meet you. The day we would finally get to hold you in our arms, to see your face, to kiss your head. The day all of our dreams were supposed to come true.

We spent five agonizing, exciting, terrified, miserable, suspenseful months awaiting this day. We spent five months wondering what you'd look like, who you'd favor. Whose laugh would you have? Whose eyes would you get? Would you have Daddy's curls? Would you have Mommy's nose? Would you be the perfect mix of both of us? Who would you become? We spent five months dreaming and planning, imagining and preparing. We spent five months looking forward to your arrival. We counted the weeks, the days, the months. Time was moving unbelievably fast but agonizingly slow at the same time. We were not prepared, but we'd never been more ready.

And then...

We spent the last four painful, heartbreaking months dreading this day. No more planning, no more dreaming, no more imagining or preparing. We never got to know what you looked like, who you favored, whose eyes or nose you had. We never got to hold you, to see your face, to kiss you. But, you were real, sweet girl. You existed. To the rest of the world, you were only ever an idea, a thought, something that would be here sometime but in the grand scheme of things, not really change much. But for me, your mama, you were everything. I felt you move. I felt you hiccup. I felt your feet kicking, your fists punching. You liked spaghetti and bread and every kind of carb there is. You made my back hurt, my clothes tight, my bladder full. You were real. And to us, you were a person.

I hate that your daddy never got to feel what I felt. I hate that he never got to feel those little tiny flutters and those soft little kicks. He never got to feel life growing inside him, and he never got to feel it from the outside, either. You're like a little secret that only I understood. A secret that only you and I shared. We knew each other. We nourished each other. We lived for each other. And I'm so sorry, Baby Girl. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that I didn't know. I'm sorry that you had to die for me to know anything was wrong. You were healthy, but I was not. And even if you weren't, you would have been perfect.

I go through this month with the heaviest heart I've ever had. I spend each day trying not to cry at your memory. How can you miss someone you never technically met? I wonder constantly if I will ever emotionally be able to get pregnant again. Will I ever not be scared? Will I ever not be sad? How on Earth will I ever be able to go through the daily injections I will need to carry any sibling of yours to full term? How do I endure everything I need to to bring a healthy baby into this world?

I keep asking myself and other people, "how do you psych yourself up for these shots every day?" and they all tell me that they just remind themselves that it's for their baby. And until today, or yesterday, or sometime very recently, I couldn't quite get myself there. But, at some point, I was hit with the realization that if they had told me that's what I would have had to do to save you, I would have done it. No questions asked. I would have done anything. I would have endured anything. I would have suffered anything they threw at me if I could have just brought you safely into this world. But, I didn't get that option. So, Baby Girl, for you, I can endure this. I can do this. I can do what I need to do to bring a little brother or sister into this world for you. And I know that my love for you and the memory of you will help me on the journey.

I love you, sweet angel. Rest easy.

Love,
Mama