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Thursday, August 22, 2013

The Haunting Part 2

This blog started as my journey through infertility, transitioned to a blog about the loss of our daughter, then the emotions of our surprise pregnancy with our rainbow, and now....well, I dont have as much time to write as I would like and frequently when I do I suffer from writers block but I would like it to still focus on our journey....the ups and downs of my daily life (especially as it relates to our loss and infertility because those are two things that now define who I am as a person) with the occasional random post....this is one of those randoms posts :)

So we have a video baby monitor for my disabled sister who lives with us...well I just turned it on (I'm getting ready to go to bed) and there were these two floating orbs that were going from one side of her room to the other. It almost looked like a thin line of light that was going to them but the orbs were really bright. So I watched it on the monitor for a few minutes trying to figure out what it was. Then I brought the monitor down and showed my husband. He actually agreed with me that it was kinda creepy. We went down stairs to her room and she was sitting up in bed laughing....but we couldn't find a cause for this light nor could we see them with our bare eyes. So we tucked her into bed and left the room, I looked at the monitor and they were back, went from one side of the room to the other and were gone.....even Dh agreed it was creepy.

Friday, August 16, 2013

About my last post...

I was thinking about my last post the other night and I got to thinking....I really hope I didnt offend anyone.  I started this blog about two years ago as kind of a journal to get my thoughts and feelings down while going through IF treatment. It became my outlet when our daughter died.  And now...well, I dont get to write as much as Id like but its still my journal.

I dont know how else to describe it, but I feel like our IF journey and loosing our daughter changed me to my core.  During IF my thoughts focused on every pregnant chick and how I felt bitter towards them.  It derailed me as a woman when my body couldnt or wouldnt do the very thing that it was designed to do...and how does one continue to love ones self when your body wont do the very thing it was created to do.  And when we lost our daughter I felt like my body failed me yet again.  But this time it failed our daughter and my husband too.  And how do you even process that???  I mean my baby died in my stomach....the safest place in the world and my baby died!!!  And how can I help but not feel to blame for that???  I mean I understand that I didnt cause her to die....but I couldnt even protect her inside of me???  And how did I not know that she was gone???  I mean my baby dies in my stomach and I dont even have a clue?!?!?!?  What the hell kind of mom am I???  When Bristol died I held on to many quotes that kept me going in my darkest hour...I think the one that I repeated the most was, "eventually there will come a day that isnt as hard as the day before it."  I think the say we lost Bristol was the day my innocence died too.  Or at least my pregnancy innocence (my other innocence died way before that, but thats another story) died that day.  It's sad to say, and I dont think I will ever admit this to D, but I didnt enjoy a moment of my pregnancy with him.  I was too afraid of something going wrong...every twitch, every tingle....could be the last I'd ever feel my baby.

Anyway, I say all of that because I want to explain my last post...I've always been a very emotional person.  Our IF changed me.  Loosing Bristol changed me...made me cherish human life even more and put me on the edge....the edge of everything normal.  And having D has continued this trend......

I cry at random times....I am an IF survivor, a mother to an angel, and I am one of the lucky ones who gets to hold her rainbow!!!!

Monday, August 12, 2013


I always thought that I was prepared to be a mom, that I knew what it would be like to love a child that grew inside of me...but nothing could have prepared me for how I felt the day of the bombing at the Boston Marathon.  I mean these were families out having sun in what should have been a safe environment...and to have their lives just destroyed in moments....its just something I think of all the time now.  How simple things could turn drastically wrong in the blink of an eye.  I've always been an anxious person and even highly emotional at times but now even news stories will bring me to tears and I feel like Im turning into a nut...I've been wondering if its just my hormones evening out, postpartum depression setting in, or just my new normal...

So I was trolling FB the other day when I came across the following that basically described my feelings to a I guess Im normal after all...

"We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" 

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. 

"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations." 

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. 

I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. 

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. 

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. 

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflĂ© or her best crystal without a moments hesitation. 

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her 
baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. 

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming 
children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. 

However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. 

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. 

That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. 

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. 

I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. 

I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. 

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. 

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.

I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. 

I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. 

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. 
Please share this with a Mom that you know or all of your girlfriends who may someday be Moms. May you always have in your arms the one who is in your heart."

-Author Unknown