Scary Mommy; Why SAHM get depressed!!!

So there is a website and a FB page called Scary Mommy and I love the site.  They tell it like it is to be a mom.  Some of its funny, some of it sad, and some of it is just reality. Well, today they posted an article that I want to share a link to because it is just SO me.  It literally explains why I've been stuck in this depression.  So Im gonna share the link as well as copy the article because IDK how this will work.

http://www.scarymommy.com/sahm-gets-depressed/?utm_source=FB

Why SAHMs Get Depressed

by Megan Paonessa 16 COMMENTS

Scary Mommy 

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Life as a SAHM can be a silent one—even with all the toddler-screaming going on around you. Before I became a mom, I worked a fancy, downtown job that pushed me to be better every single day, and I excelled. Before that, my parents pushed me to get into a good college, and to do well in said college, and to find that great, good-paying, downtown job that I would eventually score. In fact, all my life I’ve been pushed, encouraged and shown what doors ambition can open, and though it was hard work getting to where I was, my accomplishments were rewarding. Motherhood isn’t like that.

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I’ve always enjoyed being on my own, running by the lake, writing in journals, doing small projects here and there—individual, quiet tasks. So I didn’t think quitting my job to stay home with my children would be too big a change. I had gotten used to the writer’s solitary life, and I thought I’d be able to keep up on some of my writing projects even with my toddlers at home.

But, no. No, I couldn’t—not at all. And that’s part of it, losing that identity I had as an adult, at a job, a person co-workers went to for advice and help. I no longer had the identity I had created for myself—that I had worked hard to create for myself—but there’s also something else about being at home alone with my children that makes me feel so incredibly lonely. It’s a mix between losing oneself and being in this grey mushy place. It’s in this grey space where the lonely creeps in and starts messing with your head. For me, it’s where my anxiety and depression take over.

Being a SAHM is hard because there isn’t a break from the child-speak, from the children’s world. Many days, there isn’t an outlet other than your spouse, and if you’re like me, you start feeling the need to stop complaining, because, really, what are you complaining about? Isn’t this what you wanted? Asked for even?

My guilty conscience reminds me that my husband is the only one pulling in a paycheck now, who’s going to a stressful job and feeling the weight of his responsibility. What if he were to lose his job? Or, crazy thought, what if he stopped liking his job and wanted to change course? Choosing to have a spouse stay at home traps the both of you into your roles. Does my spouse really want to hear how awful it was trying to set up a playdate today? So I close off that outlet.

When you’re a SAHM with toddlers at home, there aren’t as many activities and playdates to go to as one may think. When the kids are newborns, they sleep a lot, so it’s hard to get them out and about, and you feel like shit anyway, so why bother. When the kids are in their terrible twos and threes, sometimes your child is the crazy child that you’re embarrassed to take places because of the scene most likely to happen (he bit someone, hit someone, threw something, screamed for an hour straight).

The friends you grew up with, who know you for you and love you anyway, they don’t have kids the same ages as yours, so they either don’t get it yet, or are too busy with carpooling to help out. And without family around, there aren’t many sanity breaks, because even if you find a babysitter you trust with your newborn, paying $12 an hour to go buy stuff I think will make me feel more like me just doesn’t make sense.

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I’m told it gets better once the kids go to school, once there are sporting events to attend, once you get some free time to yourself. I can see how meeting other moms helps, as long as you can keep the judgments aside. Basically, once your kids grow up, it’s a whole other ball game, which is great and fine and makes this SAHM-toddler time rather short, and I know it will get better.

One day, I’ll look back on it and wonder what the hell I was worrying about. I’ll probably even miss it. So I keep telling myself to enjoy the small stuff, to pay attention to their cute round faces learning how to speak and laugh and use a fork correctly, because they can be pretty darn cute.

Day 3

I know I skipped over Day 2 but it was really more of the same as Day 1...

By Day 3 I knew something was really wrong with me.  I couldn't stop crying, I didn't want to do anything but stay in bed all day, I couldn't eat, I didn't want anything to do with my kids, I was having panic attacks all the time, and I couldn't stop having these feelings that I knew I shouldn't have.  I knew I had to do something so I called my OB to get in to see her about Postpartum Depression.  I had read the previous day that it can really kick in around the three month mark and that exactly where I was.  I got in the next day at her office.  She put me on Celexa and Xanax and really listened to me.  She told me I should probably start seeing a therapist and a psychologist who would monitor my meds.

I got home from that appointment and took a Xanax and waited for it to kick in while I called my therapist.  I made an appointment for the following week.  Now I just had to make it that long.

In the mean time these feelings were eating me up inside.  I missed my old job like crazy, I hated being around my kids, I felt zero bond with the newest member even though he was a sweet three month old.

Im going to digress for a moment to say, with my first son, I suffered some PPD but NOTHING like this.  I think I had a few crazy arguments with DH in which I was a total lunatic and now I can't even remember what I was so mad about (Im sorry about that by the way my love).  But this; this was totally different.

With my first son I ordered these custom made monthly milestone onesies and treasured each day I put them on him and took pics.  Since the second baby was also a boy and born the same month it worked out perfectly that the onesies would work for him too.  A bonus because they were like $175 for the lot of them.  With our second son, I had taken pics with the two month one but I was in such a state of depression that for months 3 and 4 I don't have any photos of him wearing these onesies.

Day One.....

I remember my first day home like it was yesterday.  I didn't even want to get out of bed that day.  What was my new life going to look like? I decided I was gonna "fake it till I make it".  I got up and got dressed and even put on a little bit of make up.  I fed my boys breakfast even though I was so sick to my stomach I didn't eat.  After breakfast then what?  I got them up and put them in the play area of our family room.  I tried playing with them but it just made me sad.  I kept looking at my kids and thinking, this is my life now.  Every time I looked at our newest edition, Noah, I felt so guilty.  It was my job to take care of him and though I took (and continue to take) the best care of him I can, every time I looked at him I felt nothing.  Not the bond that I felt with my other son, nothing that even remotely resembled that bond.

By the time it was nap time I was ready for a nap too.  Everyone says, that you should sleep when the baby sleeps but that allowed me no time for anything else.  When was I supposed to put the laundry away or clean the house?  I decided to call my friend who I met through work who worked at a different location than I did.  I cried and she listened.  She told me not to worry, that eventually it would be ok.  Would it?  I didn't believe that.  And even if it would eventually be ok, I wanted the OK feeling NOW.

Who was this new person?  I didn't recognize myself.  I think my job had allowed me to hide from these feelings since I didn't have to deal with my boys that much; just for a few hours each evening.  Now, working from home, that identity was gone and I was left with me, the mother who didn't have an ounce of love for her newest son.  And what does that say about me?  I personally know tons of ladies who would do anything for the opportunity just to have one baby, here I have two, and though I know Im blessed I don't feel it.

So started my decent into full blown postpartum depression.....

I Plan and God Laughs.....

So today I was actually excited, I even did my hair and makeup.  My three year old had his three year check up and then my mom and I were going to take the kids to the Sea Life Aquarium  and then let them play in the middle of the mall at the kids play area, followed by lunch at Rainforest Cafe.  Well, on the way to the dr my three year old got sick.  And I mean really sick.  So I had to take his jacket off before we went into the dr office.  When we got in the office they gave me a bucket and a bag for his clothes.  They called us right back and the nurse helped me to clean him off.  I had an extra pair of paints for him but not an extra shirt.  Now mind you we live in Michigan and its like 27 outside so he cannot go outside with nothing on.  I ended up giving him my sweater (which was brand new and almost down to his toes) and I wore my jacket zipped all the way up so no one could see all I had on was my bra.  Yup, God was laughing...

We went to my moms house which was less than a mile down the road and she had backup tops for him along with a hoodie.  I cleaned out his car seat for about 30 minutes which was enough to make it rideable but it still needs to be taken apart and washed in the washing machine.

Then we went out to lunch.  He drank a little bit of juice while my 1 year old, myself, and mom ate our lunch.  We even met a nice police officer who stopped to talk to the boys.

So that was my morning.....I hope everyone else had a better one, but Im still smiling today.

A little bit about me.....the PPD side

So I want to explain a few things that will help you understand me and the different things I'm talking about.

First off, my disabled sister lives with my husband, two boys (age 1 and 3), two dogs, and one cat.  She is 24 years old and has Cerebral Palsy as well as severe mental retardation.  She is 24 but functions like a 6 month old.  She requires 24/7 care as far as transferring, feeding, diapering, and she is wheelchair bound.  She cannot talk either.  Currently she goes to school Monday-Friday from 8:30am to 3:15pm.  During the summer it is less but she also goes to a sleep away camp for one week.  It is the only week all year that we as a family are free to do as we choose, at all other times someone must be here with her or we have to take her with us.  She has a caregiver that comes for 8 hours each Saturday and Sunday but right now our current caregiver is out after having foot surgery.  Growing up I had always said that I wanted her to live with us, but I can say now that I don't think I understood the full ramification of what I was saying.  Having her live with us allows me to stay at home with my boys but its a full time job that requires a lot of patients, some of which I don't always have.

I had PPD with our first son.  I was irrational and moody.  I think it got better when I went back to work around 8 weeks but I cannot say for sure.  I remember a terrible fight DH (dear husband) and I got into shortly after D was born about him buying a motorcycle.  I don't really remember the fight but I remember screaming and being so mad I was ready to divorce him (that seems patently absurd to me now).

I tried to breastfeed both times with little success...its really hard and they don't tell you that.  That made me feel like I was failing both times.  I mean they make it seem so easy in the classes and on TV but its really not that easy, at least it wasn't for me.  It wasn't until a phone call from a friend the first time around (about 3 weeks PP) who told me that it was ok if I couldn't do it.  That she made it 6 weeks and when she decided to stop it made her and her baby a lot happier (happy mommy happy baby).

I was terrified about PPD with my second son, but I had no clue what I was about to be in for.......

Hating My New Life

I woke up on May 10th and it was Mothers Day, a day that is always hard for me as I only get to celebrate with two of my three kids.  My husband wasn't feeling well that day so he stayed home and I took my two boys to my moms house to celebrate with my parents and my in-laws.  I went there and had fun for a little while.  We opened presents and I basked in the knowledge that I had two other moms there to help me with my boys.

When we got home a few hours later it was time to feed the boys and get them ready for bed.  With my husband down for the count this is no small task.  Our two year old has speech delays so trying to communicate with him is hard (though its gotten much better over the past year with speech therapy through the school district).  Plus, he is the pickiest eater ever.  When he's throwing a tantrum and I can't help him because I don't know what he wants I just want to cry, I feel like Im failing him.  After a nighttime bottle for the little one and dinner that consisted of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the 2 year old I got them in their jammies and put them to bed.  My two year old had an "I don't want to brush my teeth," tantrum and I tried to explain why we brush our teeth but in the end he won and I was crying feeling like I failed him......

The next morning, Monday May 11th, was my first day as a SAHM/work from home mom and all I wanted to do was cry.  In fact I did cry most of the day......

Life and Changes.....

While this blog started out as an infertility and loss blog, as time goes on Ive changed.  Infertility and loss are still a part of my life, as I assume they will be forever, but now as the mother of a 3 year old boy and a one year old boy, Ive found my life has changed and not always for the better.

In May of 2015, when our newest edition was not even 3 months old yet, my husband was given a great opportunity to work for a company he used to work for.  That meant I had to quit my job that Id had for 10.5 years to stay home with my two boys and my disabled sister.  So Im kinda like a Stay At Home Mom/work from home mom because my job is to take care of my disabled sister as well as the kids and the house.  Ill be honest, my husband did this for 2 years and I didn't realize how hard it actually is.

My last day of work I was a mess.  I really liked my job but I was looking forward to staying home with my boys.  I said all my goodbyes, and they even gave me a cake and a card, and I made it all the way to my car before I broke down and cried the whole way home.  For over ten years that had been my identity and now it was changing.

I didn't know it at the time, but along with the change I was experiencing some serious postpartum depression.  All of a sudden I hated my life........

As I continue each day in writing it is my hope that I can help someone who is going through the same things I am...........

Birth Defects Prevention Month

I read somewhere the other day that January is National Birth Defects Prevention Month.  While I had not heard that before, it fits perfectly with the post that I was looking to write today....

2 years ago tomorrow (January 19th) I heard the words no parent wants to hear, "Im sorry, your baby is sick." I will never forget those words as long as I live.  Nor will I forget the look on the nurse practitioners face as she broke the news.  She looked as sick to her stomach as I felt.  I remember the white walls of the tiny office that we were in appeared to be closing in on me.  I remember the feeling of wanting to run away from that room as fast as possible while screaming.  I was screaming on the inside but I couldn't utter a sound on the outside.  I remember holding my husband and sobbing.  I remember waiting for what seemed like forever while the nurse made us an appointment for later that day at the high risk department at U of M.  I remember calling my mom and telling her that there was a problem with the baby.  I remember just wanting my husband to hold me.  I remember calling my in-laws and telling them there was a problem with the baby.  I remember calling my work and telling them that I wouldn't be there for the next few days.  I remember the tone in my bosses voice when he told me to take all the time I needed.  I remember my husband driving us from one hospital to another  while I sobbed.  I remember calling my insurance company to make sure than any tests the new hospital wanted to run would be covered.  I remember getting to the new hospital and wanting my mom.  I remember my mom taking forever to get there...and then when she called me and said she was there but couldn't find the 9th floor.  The reason she couldn't find the 9th floor was because in all of my haste when I called her I forgot to tell her that we were at a different hospital.  I remember the look on my mothers face when she finally got to the right hospital.  She knew exactly how I felt because she had stood in my same shoes just 20 years earlier with my little sister.  I remember the hour long ultrasound that the new hospital did.  I remember watching my baby on the ultrasound machine hoping that it wasn't the last time I'd see her.  I remember the giant needle they stuck in my stomach when they ran the amniocenteses.  I remember hearing the doctor explain to me what Dandy Walker Syndrome was.  I remember the nurse telling me I had until I was 24 weeks to "terminate".  I remember leaving the hospital and trying to find a place to eat with everyone.  I remember almost getting into 3 accidents on the way and eventually giving up on food.  I remember crying myself to sleep in my husbands arms that night.

I remember the 5 weeks of pure hell that followed.  I will never forget 2/23/12 when the nurse told me that she, "had to go get the doctor because there was no heartbeat."

I remember our baby...Bristol Grace.  And I love her!!!

Working retail....the good stuff

So I may have mentioned before, but I work at a retail store.  Half of my job is spent doing back office stuff and the other half is spent working the registers.  Well, one of the hard parts about working the registers while I was pregnant with D was the number of customers who wanted to talk about my pregnancy.  Its not that I didn't want to talk about it, but I was such a nervous mess and most people just didn't get that.  I dreaded the, "is this your first child" question.  Well, over the course of my pregnancy I met a few nice ladies who asked about my pregnancy and then listened when I talked.  The other day one of the customers whom I had spoken with when I was about 8 months pregnant with D came back into the store.  She told me that my story had touched her and that when she left that day she said a prayer for me.  She also told me that when she went to church the next time she asked her fellow church goers to pray for me as well.  She said I was on the prayer list at church for several months.  She asked about D and I showed her photos.  She told me that she and her husband were never able to have children (not for a lack of trying) and that she was always sad about that.  That made me sad...she said that her husband had been gone for a few years now and she missed him dearly.  We talked for a few more minutes (we were REALLY SLOW so there were no other customers in line) and then she was on her way.  Before she left she told me that my story had touched her personally and that she will continue to pray for me and my family.  I thanked her profusely and told her that I hoped to see her again soon......

And after a crazy retail holiday season my faith in humanity has been restored!!!!

PTSD???

Ive heard it said that people who experience loss in their lives can suffer from PTSD....not the kind that people who have been to war suffer from...but a different kind.  And sometimes I wonder if I do too...

I'm not trying to diminish any ones loss, but I think the loss of a child is the worst.  I mean from the moment I've been able to actually understand death Ive always accepted that my parents will die before me.  My dad always used to tell me that I will never understand the love of a child until I have my own.  When we finally got pregnant with Bristol my dad told me that now I will understand the love he has for me.  And then when we lost her.....my whole world crashed.  I know she was only 26 weeks but she was formed perfectly, all the way down to her tiny fingers and toes.  To hold my lifeless body in my arms and know that there was nothing I could do...well, Ive never felt so helpless in my entire life.  

And I am not the same person I was before her....I cry at everything.  From commercials on TV about a cancer drug, or ads for the nearest children's hospital, hell even songs make me cry.  We have a close family friend that my parents have known for years and the dad in that family has stage 4 cancer that has spread to his bones and everywhere in his body.  This will be his last Christmas.  When we were putting up our Christmas tree I couldn't help but cry.....I was thinking that this is the last Christmas that he will ever have....the last time he will see a tree put up....the last time his daughters will hug him on Christmas.  I never thought about things like that before.  

And as I'm getting excited for D's first Christmas I can't help but feel sad over my little one who isn't with us.  And then I feel guilty for being excited....

Tomorrow is the first anniversary of the shooting at the elementary school in Newtown CT.  I cannot imagine being their parents.  Just thinking about it makes me cry.  It also makes me think how, in an instant, life can change forever.  I cannot imagine kissing your kid(s) goodbye and never seeing them again.  But then again that happens all the time....

CD38

Today is CD 38......otherwise known as Im late by 10 days but all pregnancy tests come back negative so where in the hell is AF???  Including this cycle, Ive had exactly 3 weird periods in my entire life.  One back in 10/08 when it just never showed up (I know the month and year because it was the same time as one of my best friends weddings), one in 6/11 (I know this because we were gonna do our first IUI that month but it had to be postponed cuz AF never showed up, and now this month.

Now I was never expecting to get pregnant with baby number 3 so fast so Im not disappointed (though personally Im kinda sick of shelling out money for those damn tests since they never work anyway).  But it does make me wonder if there is an under lying cause for our infertility.  Ive contemplated calling my RE to see whats going on, but I feel if I call them and say that I've had 3 weird cycles in my entire life and I think there may be something wrong with me they may think Im nuts.  It just makes me wonder....what if there really is an under lying cause of our infertility.  I mean the whole "Unexplained" thing is just annoying.  Its like a mystery with no ending.....and I hate that.  There should always be a reason behind everything!!!  And darn it I want to know what that reason is!!!!!

First Birthday as a mom....

My mom and I were talking yesterday about birthdays and how as you get older they just seem like another day.  However, (though Im sure not a single person realizes this) today is my first official birthday as a mom.  At least its the first one I actually feel like a mom for.  I mean in 2011 I was about 12 weeks pregnant with Bristol.  And in 2012 Id already given birth once and was 6 months pregnant with our second.  But 2013 is the first time I feel like a mom.....

Today DH got up with the little one and let me sleep until 8am.  He would have let me sleep longer but I don't sleep any more.  We then dropped my lo off at my parents house and went out to lunch.  He then took me to the fabulous bath store that I love and bought me some fancy soaps.  I love that store.  When I win the lotto I will buy everything from there.  He also got me two beautiful chocolate cupcakes.....the best gift ever.  I now must go and eat them.....for dinner!!!!  :)

I wish I would have.....

I wish I could write a letter to myself on the day we lost Bristol.  There are so many things I wish I could have done differently......

I wish I would have taken more pictures.  At the time pictures seemed like the most macabre thing in the world.  Why in the hell would I want pictures of my baby who was gone???  But now those 5 photos I have that the hospital nurses took are the only 5 photos I will ever have of my baby.  I wish I could have held her longer.  I guess I didn't realize that I really would never see her again.  I wish I would have kissed her instead of being too afraid to touch her.  I wish I would have studied every inch of her body.  I wish I would have told her just one more time that mommy loves her......

As I sit here and watch her brother play Im stuck with the feeling I have several times a day....if she was here he wouldn't be.  That is such an all encompassing thought that sometimes I cannot even grasp it...now, every night before we go to bed I tell her brother all about his guardian angel.

TTC Continues....

So when DH and I started TTC again I told myself that this was just going to be fun.  If it happened it happened and if not then thats ok too.  I wasn't going to make myself crazy charting my BBT every morning.  We were just gonna do the deed and see what happened.  Then, as the time for AF came close it occurred to me that I didn't even really know when she was supposed to show up.  So I bought an app to track her.....I think that was the beginning of the end.  Im now tracking my CM and days we do the deed too (sorry for the TMI).  Its scheduled sex again too....every other day during my peak times.  Yippie...."Oh sweets, I'm ovulating now so we need to get at it."  I can think of more exciting things to say to my spouse.  When I was 2 days late we tested.....I don't know what I was expecting.  But I must say I was a bit disappointed when the test was negative.

I think the effect IF has had on me as a person is here to stay.  I mean, it doesn't define me....but it has changed me.  I was talking to one of the ladies that I work with who was pregnant with her daughter the same time I was pregnant with Bristol and she mentioned that she wants another kid.  All of a sudden the green eyed monster in me came out (though I didn't let on).  And today she brought her daughter into work and I had a pause for a moment....her daughter is 19 months old.  Bristol was due 2 weeks before she was.  That should be Bristol.  But then it brings me to this thought which I cannot seem to wrap my head around....if she was here then our D wouldn't be.  She isn't gone forever though....she watches over us from up above and one day I will meet her again.  Until then, she is our guardian angel.

October 15th 2013 ~ Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today is October 15th....Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day here in the United States.  Its crazy when you think that one in four pregnancies will end without the birth of a healthy baby.  One in four....that number is beyond belief to me.  I am one of the lucky ones, our journey to become parents gave us our beautiful rainbow baby....but the pain of losing our daughter will never go away!!!  She came into the world silently on 2/24/12.  I never got to hear her cry, or look into her eyes and tell her I love her...she never got to say her first words or take her first steps......but through me she will live forever!!!  Bristol Grace I love you!!!  

“When a child loses his parent, they are called an orphan. When a spouse loses her or his partner, they are called a widow or widower. When parents lose their child, there isn’t a word to describe them. This month recognizes the loss so many parents experience across the United States and around the world. It is also meant to inform and provide resources for parents who have lost children due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, molar pregnancy, stillbirths, birth defects, SIDS, and other causes.” -Ronald Reagan.

Some of you may know of the organization called Molly Bears, they make bears for parents who have lost a baby and the bears weigh the same amount that your baby weighed....well, our Bristol Grace bear arrived last week weighing 14.7oz just like our Bristol did...she is beautiful!!!

Starting Over

**We havent told anyone this and I dont know if or when we will (so clearly posting it online is a wonderful idea...lol) but Im feeling like talking about this...**

I come from a big family....I have 4 siblings.  DH comes from a complicated family but he has 3 half siblings.  Ive always dreamed of having 2 kids...but now I think three might be the magical number for us.  So two weeks ago DH and I started ttc again.  Or at least we stopped preventing......

When we lost Bristol I struggled wondering why God would create her only to know suffering and pain.  And I found comfort knowing that she was created in His image and that we are all perfect in His eyes.  God doesnt make mistakes.  So I am taking that approach to ttc again.  If He chooses it will happen.  If not, thats ok too.  Im terrified of loosing another baby.....but if I do I will hold on even tighter to our miracle lil one.

I was asked the other day if I would go back to our reproductive doctor if ttc doesnt work for us.  In short, Im not sure.  I am going to call them this week and schedule a time at the end of this cycle to go in for blood work and an ultrasound to make sure everything is all set to start ttc.  Should we get a positive test I will also probably seek their assistance in monitoring my progestrone levels for the first 8 weeks (they were low last time and I needed medication to help) and also for the heparin for the first 12 weeks.  But Im not sure if I will go back for treatment...it was so hard on my body and I dont know if I can do that again.  Plus, it posses another problem....who would watch the little one while we were at the doctor???  Because I know from personal experience that its not easy to see babies at an infertility clinic....its really hard and I do not want to put other patients in that place.  

Anyway....thats where Im standing now......

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.

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 myself....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!!!!

Motherhood....

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 T....so 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 soufflé 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

Our Haunted House...

I'm going to take a break from my normal blog topics and tell you the story of my house. Sounds boring, right??? I WISH!!! The actual story is anything but...what you are about to read is real. It's happened over the last 3.5 years at my house. Think of it as you wish....this is my story.

So when DH and I met over 10 years ago we were both still living at our parents houses. About a year after we started dating we got engaged. At that time we bought a condo (big mistake as it was 2004 and the housing market was just a few years away from tanking)...big mistake but what did we know? The condo was nice, except I'm not meant for condo living....I like to listen to my country music loud while cleaning. And there was this jerk who lived across from us who thought he owned the grass in front of his unit and he yelled at me every time my dogs went to the bathroom on "his" yard. Whatever JERK!!! The condo wasn't all bad though, we met these wonderful people who moved in next door to us. And though we have both since moved we are still friends. And even though we don't see them anywhere near enough, they are close friends who have been super supportive. Anyway, in 2010 we decided that we would start looking for a house to buy and rent out our condo. After a few months of searching we found one that I loved and my husband was happy with it too. As the house buying goes there were ups and downs but on April 30th we closed on the house. And after two weeks of hard labor on DH's part we were finally ready to move in. On May 15th 2010 we packed up the condo and moved the gang (2 dogs and 1 cat) 45 miles across town to a colonial more in the country. 

It didn't take long...the weird stuff started happening on our very first night. About 2am we crashed and fell asleep almost immediately. About 5am we were awoken by a loud crashing sound. We went to investigate only to discover the hook that was holding up a poster gave out and the framed poster came crashing down. Simple enough, but it was one of those J hooks and the frames's wire was resting in the bottom part so it didn't make a lick of sense that the entire hook had opened up. The next morning DH bent the hook back to its original shape, hammered it back in the wall, and hung the poster back up....it's been there ever since. 

Over the next few months our garage door would randomly open and close. We chalked that up to the opener being on the same frequency as another garage door opener. Then one fall evening while DH was still at work I was vacuuming the house. I finished and put the vacuum away. I popped my head into the guest bedroom to turn the light off and what I saw changed my view on my house forever!!!  On the side of the room opposite the door, in my freshly vacuumed carpet was the perfect footprint. It was a big manly size footprint. I was so freaked out and thinking no one would ever believe me I took a photo. At that point I was ready to call the people from Paranormal Witness but DH was still not convinced.

A few months later one evening I was getting ready to take a bath (DH was on his way home from work). I put my clothes in the hamper and noticed the access door to our attic was ajar. I figured DH had just been up there and didn't close it all the way. So when he got home I asked him why he had been in the attic. I wasn't prepared for his response, "I haven't been in the attic in well over a month." Needless to say my suspicion that my house is haunted continued to grow. 

About a month later DH and I along with both dogs and our cat were watching TV in our bedroom when we heard footsteps coming up our stairs. Since we were all upstairs we knew it wasn't one of us...DH flew to get his gun and then went to investigate. After a through investigation of our house turned up nothing we went back to bed (with the alarm set that's for sure).

In October of 2011 we went to our first homeowners association meeting.  After the meeting was over we were standing around talking to some of the other people at the meeting (we tend to keep to ourselves and we don't know too many of our neighbors). The husband of the president of the association came up to us and we were talking. When we told him where we lived he said that he already knew, that we lived in "the dead guys house." WHAT?!?!?!? Long story short, the guy who used to live here lived here with his wife, daughter, and mother. He was a higher up for one of the domestic automakers and in 2009 when they started to fail he lost his job. When his money ran out his wife left him. Being unable to support his family he committed suicide in the garage.  Now I was starting to regret buying a foreclosed house....had we bought it from a person and not a bank they would have been required to disclose that at the time of purchase...


Things continued on and off for the next few years...we'd hear footsteps on the stairs, our dogs would all of a sudden start growling at nothing and on occasion our cat would have her hair stand up and start running around like crazy. And sometimes I'd feel like I wasn't alone in the house.

Then in October of 2012 we were having our basement finished. The tile guy who did the tile in the bathroom is also an EMT for our local fire department. When we started talking to the guy he mentioned that this wasn't the first time he had been in our house....he had responded to the call when the former owner killed himself. So we tried to ask him questions about what had happened but due to privacy laws he was unable to tell us any more than we already knew. He did tell us one thing that I will never forget...when DH asked if the reason the floor in our garage had been freshly apoxied had anything to do with what happened. His response was, "Well, there are just some things that you can't wash off." 

Then about 3 months ago I put little D to bed around 11pm.  I turned his music and projector on and set the night timer on for 45 minutes. I went into our bedroom to brush my teeth. I took the dogs out and then crawled into bed. It only took me a minute to be overcome with the silence....less than 10 minutes after I turned on the music it had been turned off (and DH was asleep next to me). This has contined to happen about once a week. I've been trying to chalk it up to a short in the device.

About a month later DH was in bed sleeping and I went to go check on lil D since the music shut itself off again. I looked downstairs and saw what I can only describe as a shadowy figure moving from my kitchen to my living room. I was so freaked out I ran into lil D's room and closed the door.  He was sound asleep and I watched him sleep for about a half hour. When I finally gathered the courage I went back into our room. I didn't say anything to anyone because I was afraid of sounding like a complete nut. The next evening DH and I were sitting on our couch watching TV when he tells me that twice that day he saw a shadowy figure moving from the kitchen to the living room. I was SO freaked out!!!! 

Then about three weeks ago I was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud crashing sound. I searched the house but was unable to find the source of the noise. The next morning when I went to make lil D his bottle I saw the source of the noise...a solid metal door knob was on the floor in the kitchen. This knob doesn't match any other knob in our house nor is it missing from any door or cabinet in our house. I have NO idea where it came from. 

Then two weeks ago we had my MIL and FIL babysitting my sister and lil D. When I called them after the movie to see how things were going my MIL sounded terrified. When I asked her what was wrong she said that while she has been sitting in the family room watching TV the door to our basement kept opening and closing on its own, twice slamming. She said all the windows in the house were closed and that all three animals were in the room with her.

Finally, two days ago I was in lil D's room feeding him when DH went to take a shower. When he went to put the clothes away in the closet he discovered the door to the attic was again ajar. And then he told me the craziest thing I've ever heard...(keeping in mind that DH is a skeptic and believes there is a logical explanation for most of what has happened) earlier in the day he had been asking out loud if there was some sort of spirit or ghost in the house that it make itself known by slamming the door. I told DH that if he didn't get his proof then I don't know when he will...

So that's the story on our house. That's why I feel our house is haunted. At this point I'm not sure what to do.