Ghosts of Christmas (Eve) Past

Two years ago today, I was sitting on the couch watching PS I Love You (not the wisest choice, given my emotional state) ... the phone rang and it was my OB, telling me that our little Toot did in fact have Trisomy 18. I was alone at the time and started crying. I called Pat for him to come home from work, called my parents and then cried some more. Poor Bailey didn't know what to do. She brought me all her toys, then eventually climbed on the couch with me and just snuggled. I distinctly remember getting up and starting to clean the house, repeating to myself over and over "falling apart is not an option" ... Pat came home, my parents came over to give us a hug and the beginning of my new life started to set in. Denial, disbelief and waves of pure grief washed over me again and again and again. It is hard to believe that that day was two years ago. Looking back, I never imagined that I would survive; let alone come to love being pregnant and that I would fall in love with my baby girl despite a terminal diagnosis. I also never imagined that the grief could get worse. That the thought of losing my daughter was far less traumatic than actually holding her precious little self in my arms and then having to let her go ...

As I sit here now, with Brienna's little brother or sister growing inside me, I am sad, yet hopeful. I miss my daughter so much. I wish she were here to celebrate Christmas, to anticipate being a big sister. I wish with all my heart that she didn't have to be in Heaven. Yet at the same time, without having lost her, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't have learned what I'm made of. I wouldn't know that Pat and I have a marriage strong enough to handle the toughest of times. I wouldn't know that the love of your child is one of the most amazing loves in the entire world.

So Brienna, I have to thank you. For giving me the best gift of all time. For helping me realize what's truly important in life and for shaping me into the person I am today. I wish you were here, more than anything, but I know that you're with me all the time. That love truly is stronger than death and that someday, we'll be together again. Merry Christmas, baby girl ... I love you and I miss you so much.

Halloween

In my head I wonder about what you would be.

A tiger? A princess? The world's cutest monkey?

Your dad and I discuss it, he's the only one who knows.

What it's like to imagine but never get to know.

I ooh and I ahh at all the other kids,

but inside my heart is breaking for what shouldn't be, is.

It will never be the same for us, it really isn't fair.

You are up in Heaven, while I am stuck down here.

I miss you sweet Brienna,

I see you only in my dreams.

I love you baby girl.

And so tonight I whisper, Happy Halloween.

Hopeful

I am feeling hopeful. I worry that means the other shoe is going to drop, but I'm trying to stay positive. Things with this little munchkin are looking good. I had two ultrasounds this week: my last one with the RE (which I'm very sad about) and then one with my regular OB. It was the NT scan, and the nuchal fold measured 1.5 mm ... normal is less than 2.5mm. So I was relieved. We did the AFP 1 and won't know anything until after the AFP 2, but there is nothing to suggest anything bad. And it's kind of amazing. I'm starting to physically feel better and I cannot believe that I'm 12 weeks 3 days pregnant. I've only told a very few people and would love to keep things under wraps until 16ish weeks, but I'm not sure that's possible. We have a few family events coming up and me not drinking would lead to suspicion ... but we'll see. There is a part of me that feels like everything is going to be okay and then another part of me that is unsure how anything can ever be okay. Like something bad can always happen. And we're the people that it will happen to. But I'm trying not to think that way. It isn't good for me and it certainly isn't good for the munchkin :)

Too Good to be True?

I am pregnant. Again. I never got a period after the miscarriage and 6 weeks to the day when the miscarriage started, I took a pregnancy test. I'm not even sure why. I had felt a little nauseous at work one night and I knew I might be drinking a lot over the weekend. So after work on August 20, I stopped at Shaw's and bought a pregnancy test. I slept for a few hours, letting my urine concentrate and then peed on the stick. Of course I assembled it wrong so it showed nothing. I slept again for a few more hours, assembled the stick right and saw POSITIVE. I almost shit myself. My first reaction was to smile. Then I hopped in my car, drove to CVS and bought five more tests, all different brands just to be sure. They were all positive. I took pictures of them all. Pat came home a few hours later. We were heading up to Canton for a cousins night (my parents were away) and as we were getting ready, I said, "by the way, I found this out today" and showed Pat the stick. He was like okay, wow. And gave me a huge hug.

Monday rolled around and I called the RE's office, not even sure if I should since clearly infertility didn't appear to be the issue. She said to come in Wednesday for bloodwork. My beta was 6202. She scheduled me for more bloodwork and an ultrasound a week later and on September 1, we learned were 6w1d pregnant. We saw a heartbeat at 132 and Dr. P said based on dates, the ultrasound and my beta (22,000+), things looked good. We went back for another ultrasound this past Wednesday, September 8 and measured 7w, 4d with a heartrate of 150.

So we're pregnant. And I feel more attached to this pregnancy than I did with the one we miscarried. I wonder if when my beta was 50 that time, they knew I'd miscarry right away. I sure didn't, but I bet they did. My due date will be sometime in late April. We have another ultrasound in two weeks and I'm petrified I'll miscarry before then, but hopeful we won't. It feels surreal. It's scary, because I can see myself with a baby this time. I find myself daydreaming about a nursery, a jogging stroller, whether it's a boy or a girl. And when I catch myself, I try to stop because I'm afraid of getting my hopes up. Even though they already are ...

It's strange too, because at this point with Brienna, we didn't know anything was wrong. I would be about to have my first ultrasound, which would show she was small. I was elated at that point, I think. We were so excited to be parents and loved Toot so much ... it's almost scary how much you fall in love even though so much can go wrong. I pray every night that this time is different. That we do bring a baby home. The only person besides Pat and I that know is my crazy lady, Pat. And she has a good feeling about it. And I guess I do too. I know Pat does. So, let's hope I keep anxiety and fear at bay and try to enjoy being pregnant again. Despite the fact that I feel like crap. I've never been so constipated in my life and have heartburn on top of it. I'm exhausted and it's miserable. But I'll take it :)

Wondering

I am jealous. Pat told me today that his cousin is pregnant. Great for them, but breaks my heart. She is 24 and has been married less than a year. I want it to be me. When he told me, my first reaction was to cry. Then I thought, "will it ever be us?". But the thing is, it was us. Those first 17 weeks were awesome. We were happily pregnant, loving the fact that we could share this amazing news with everyone. We were so innocent, maybe even naive. I loved being pregnant. Those stupid "25 things you didn't know about me" on Facebook from a year ago? One of mine was I love being pregnant. Despite what I knew, despite the fact that I didn't know if Toot would live, I truly loved it. I had never felt more beautiful and I just loved having this little life inside me. I understood the miracle of it and knew how fortunate I was to be pregnant.

I want that experience again. Granted, it will never be the same. Ever. Even with this latest pregnancy, I didn't get attached or get excited. Despite the fact that I cautiously looked forward to Feb 4, 2011 (the due date), I knew too much about what could go wrong. And sure enough, it did. I hope beyond hope that we are able to get pregnant again. But I also know, I'll never be truly comfortable. I will always wonder about what might be going wrong, or if we'll actually end up with a baby that comes home with us.

The first time, I thought if we made it out of the first trimester, everything would be fine. We waited until we were 14 weeks along before we told anyone. Three weeks later, devastation (or so we thought at the time). The second time, I just held my breath and hoped and then was let down. If it happens again, I wonder if there will be a magic time when I feel okay about things. Somehow I doubt it. I will wonder if there is a lurking chromosomal abnormality that won't get picked up on ultrasound right away. I will wonder about placenta abruption and every other nightmare scenario. I'll wonder about premature birth and the after effects. Nothing will make me feel safe. And in truth, we're never safe. Even if we have a healthy baby, it means nothing. You can't take anything for granted, because you just never know ...

But I want the chance. I'll live with the fear and anxiety because I want to believe that we'll end up with a healthy baby. I want it to be me again. And I'm nervous that it never will ...

Will to Live

Pat is away this weekend and I am petrified that something is going to happen to him. Like crying, can't sleep, palpitations when I think about it petrified. I am pretty sure that he is my reason to live. If you told me today that I had to choose between him and having babies, I would choose him. Without hesitation. He is going to be away for four nights. He's going hiking/camping on a trip that I was originally supposed to go on but all the girls backed out and now it's just Pat and his friend John. It will be much less awkward for all involved without me there, but we'd been looking forward to it for awhile.

I was literally sobbing when he left this morning. I got home from work and we laid in bed for 25 minutes and all I could think was "what if this is the last time?" I can picture myself getting the phone call or a police officer coming to the door. I can picture myself at the cemetery having to say goodbye and it is miserable. It's crippling. I literally do not know how I would survive life without him. I wouldn't want to. And I know that sounds dramatic, but I just don't think I would. He is my best friend and the one person I love more than anyone else in this world. I miss him already and it's only been five hours.

My sister had sent me this quote last week because she said it reminded her of Pat and I. When I first read it, I thought it was cute. And now I read it and think it means he is going to die and these are his last words to me. "Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - Christopher Robbin to Winnie the Pooh.

I am hoping that this is all just irrational anxiety. It has to be, right? But how do I snap out of it? How do I stop and say, he will be fine. It feels like a black cloud is following us and it would just be our luck for something to happen. I just want him to come home to me safely. I want to lay next to him, breathe him in and tell him I love him. Over and over and over again. I need him because he is my everything.

Worry

I am overcome with anxiety. I have this distinct feeling that everything I love in life is going to vanish. Or that tragedy lurks in places I can't see ... that something bad is going to happen to everyone I love and I'll be left here to pick up the pieces of a life I don't want.

Pat leaves the house and I'm a wreck. What if something happens to him while he's in the car? What if he's mugged on his way to work? What if a mass murderer knocks on the door when I'm not home and kills him? I went for a run the other day and was petrified the whole time that I was going to run into someone that wanted to rape me. But that he would kill Bailey before he did it. I was practically sprinting, just to get home to safety.

I know I can't live like this, and believe me, I talk to my crazy lady about it. But I only take Ativan at night, because I don't want to be in a fog during the day. I am petrified it will make me less alert and miss the opportunity to stop said tragedy from occurring. Some people lead tragic lives. Part of me says we've had our fair share of tragedy, the other part of me says the black cloud is following me and I have to do everything in my power to avoid getting rained on.

My dad used to have a quote on our refrigerator, because I worried a lot growing up too. It said, "Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but gets you nowhere." And I know that's the case, but when the panic hits, it takes over and all my fears seem so real ...

Missing Brienna

I miss my baby. So much. Sometimes, I can be sitting on the couch, watching TV with Pat and the ache for her is so great, it takes my breath away and I'm reduced to tears ... she's never coming back :( Sometimes I don't think I can go through the rest of my life without her. I long for her and wish with all my heart that she was here with us ... I came across this poem on Becki's blog and hope she doesn't mind that I'm borrowing it:

For a short time, I had your body in my body.

I carried your belly in my belly.

And now, though I have your heart in my heart and feel your soul in my soul,

I will never have your hand in my hand.

I miss your life in my life.

So perfect.

Missing you Brienna Marie. Always and forever.

Painful Reality

I thought I had resigned myself to the fact that this miscarriage was going to happen. I thought I was okay with it, that I could handle it and that everything was going to be okay. I was painfully wrong.

I had been spotting/bleeding since about Monday. I called to check in with the MD like they told me to and was basically just waiting. Friday morning, bleeding seemed to really increase. I was trying to be "normal" and was preparing to go out and run some errands when I figured I'd call the doctor's office. Typically, I call in, ask for the nurse's line and leave a message. Everyone there has been nothing but nice to both Pat and I. This time, however, was different. When I reached the nurse's line to leave a message, I said who I was and that I was calling in as asked to provide an update on the progress of my miscarriage. The woman on the phone paused and then said "um yeah ... this is an INFERTILITY clinic." I paused in disbelief as tears welled up in my eyes and said, "yes, I realize that. I've been there for months and calling to check in for the past two weeks". Without saying a word, she transferred me to someone else so I could leave a message for the nurse to call me back. I was stunned and pissed and amazed that anyone could so easily disregard the fact that a person was having a miscarriage.

After I left a message, I was so sad and teary that I decided to not go out. Which ended up being a very good thing. I laid on the couch and decided to watch a movie. I wasn't feeling very good, and started having some serious cramping. The nurse called back at that point, and I told her how I was feeling, etc. Things were fine. About an hour later, the pain was so bad, I threw up (only other time that's ever happened was in labor). I was doubled over in pain and so nervous, because I had no idea what was supposed to be happening. I was crying at that point and called the nurse back and she assured me this was normal and called in an Rx for Vicodin and Zofran for me. I called Pat at work and he left early to pick them up for me.

The pain had majorly decreased at this point and I went to the bathroom again, because it seemed like the only thing to do. As I peed, I passed these huge blood clots. I was scared, so picked them out of the toilet to examine them. I didn't know what to do, but was crying and just so sad. By the time Pat got home, the pain wasn't enough to need medicine. I felt physically okay. Mentally, I felt so defeated. I knew that wasn't the end of it, but at least knew what had caused the pain. The nurse had told me, if the Vicodin doesn't control the pain, go to the ER and if the pain lasts more than 24 hours, go to the ER. Luckily, that wasn't necessary.

Later that night, as I was wiping from going to the bathroom, I felt more clot that wouldn't come off on the tissue. This is so gross, but it was this huge hunk of tissue that I basically had to pull out of myself because it was stuck there. I have no idea if that was the right thing to do or not ... but I couldn't just leave it there. That seemed like the worst of it, but now I feel some pretty serious cramping again. I'm still passing clots and just passed more tissue. I have no idea if this is normal or not. I'm not doubled over in pain by any means (I'm blogging, so it clearly isn't bad), but this is how things started on Friday and I'm worried about what that means. Should I take some pain meds to stay on top of it? Or will doing that mask the symptoms?

With everything that's happened, I feel like there is a black cloud following me. I'm petrified I'm going to hemorrhage or something. Like if something can go wrong, it will. Because it's me. I'm petrified something is going to happen to Pat or Bailey. I'm just a wreck in general. Part of me says "it's just a miscarriage". The other part of me is devastated. I feel so empty and defeated. Not like when Brienna died, but empty nonetheless. And inadequate. And just sad. I see the doctor again on Wednesday and kinda wish it was tomorrow. I just wish I knew what was normal ... that I knew if this was supposed to be happening.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I thought it would be relatively pain-free. How wrong I was ... on so many levels.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Pat and I were driving home last night when Somewhere Over the Rainbow (the Israel Kamakawiwo version) came on. As tears started welling up in my eyes, Pat said, "this song makes me sad." I started sobbing at that point and cried almost the whole way home. Sometimes, I just cannot believe that Brienna is gone. That we are surviving this. It's incredible how the pain is still so acute. How I ache for her. We talked so much on the ride home. We talked about getting tattoos, something we've talked about since June 2, 2009 but never did anything about. This time, we really talked about it. We talked about what they'd say, where they'd be. And I think we might do it. Together. Which makes me happy. I want to be marked on the outside, because I am certainly marked on the inside.

I love you and I miss you so much Brienna Marie ...

Hope

I just read a book called After You by Julie Buxbaum ... it was excellent and a part of it really stuck with me. I had a conversation with a friend about hope the other day. How it's a double-edged sword. Hope is the only thing that got me through Brienna's pregnancy ... without, I would have been even more of a mess than I was! Yet is also can be devastating ...

The quote in the book that resonated with me is, "Wanting may be the worst feeling of all, next to hope. But hope is the worst. Hope is the moment before peeing on the negative stick. Hope is the moment before they tell you they can't find a heartbeat. Hope is a setup, a bait and switch, an illusion."

If I could add to that, I would say hope is the moment before they tell you your daughter isn't breathing, that she has no heartbeat. Hope is being convinced she'll be born alive, only to have her be born still. Hope is getting pregnant again, thinking you paid your dues already only to have a miscarriage.

Hope really is a double-edged sword ... it gets you through life, but it can break your heart too.

Where Have I Been?

I have no idea ...

It's been over a year since my baby died. That is a tough pill to swallow. I worry that because it's been that long, people will think I should be "better" or "moving on". To them I say, screw you. It doesn't hurt any less that Brienna isn't here ... I miss her with every fiber of my being. I think about her first thing in the morning, all throughout the day and as I attempt to fall asleep at night. Her not being here SUCKS. There is no way to sugar coat it ...

After our long struggle to get pregnant, we decided to see an RE. It had been a year, and we really want more kids. So, we went to the RE and guess what - pregnant. Ironic right? But as appears to be the case with us, things did not go as planned. Beta's didn't double right away, but then did and to make a long story short, I'm having a miscarriage. At 8 weeks 2 days, our little baby had no more heartbeat :( We are so sad. I'm now at 10 weeks and waiting for the miscarriage to happen. It's a strange time. I finally started seeing some spotting last night, so I think my body is doing what it's supposed to do, but it has not been a fun couple of weeks. The loss of this baby exacerbates Bri.enna not being here. I would like to avoid misoprostol or a D&C, so am praying my body works. We deserve at least that right?

On the house front (oh yeah, did I mention my house flooded back in March? A 500-year flood happened and our entire basement and 26" of our first floor were filled with nasty, brown water). Good times. We're hoping to be back there in 6-8 weeks though, which will be so nice. I miss it. I miss my safe spot, my comfort zone. We saved all of BMM's things, so that was really all that mattered to me. But we lost a lot of stuff. Insurance pays for some of it, so we're lucky. At this point, we just want to go home.

So that's my life in a nutshell. Lucky me, huh?

The Wait Is On ...

... and I don't really like it. It's been just about a week since we learned our baby had no heartbeat. At the advice of my doctor, I didn't go to work since we found out and I am kinda wishing I did. I feel so inadequate. That is the only way I can describe things ... having babies is supposed to be the most natural thing a woman does. And I can't do it. Or at least I don't have a "successful outcome". It sucks. I am sad and want things to be different. I want this miscarriage to just happen so we can move on. I've been doing way to much research online and am petrified of what it's going to be like. There is a part of me that wishes we had just done things right away, taken the misoprostol and had it happen immediately. Waiting is hard. Harder than I thought and yet at the same time, could be much worse. I feel almost numb to the whole thing. I am quite sure that when it happens, I won't feel the same way. But for now, I feel numb and probably in denial. BOO.

Really?!

Really?! This is the way things are going to go? Let me just recap the last eighteen + months:

September 2008: We're pregnant!!! Yeah! Barely tried, so freaking happy!

December 2008: Your baby has Trisomy 18, probably won't make it through the pregnancy. Do you want to abort now? Um, NO.

June 2, 2009: Brienna Marie is born into Heaven at 41 weeks. Most beautiful baby ever.

July 2009: Despite what others say, start trying to get pregnant. Tell no one.

August 2009: Trying.

September 2009: Trying.

October 2009: Trying.

Novermber 2009: Trying, convinced this is the month.

December 2009: Still trying.

January 2010: Still trying. Call MD, because of irregular periods: don't worry, keep trying!!

February 2010: Still trying, now with clomid since proved not ovulating.

March 2010: Ovulation!! No pregnancy.

March 2010: House floods. Basement has "catastrophic damage" and we get 3 feet of water on the first floor. Awesome.

April 2010: Still trying.

May 2010: See RE, as it's been one year. Find out am pregnant. Ironic?

Then, let's see. Beta's don't double as they should right away. Okay fine. Go back four days later, they double - yeah! Surely a healthy baby is on the way! Beta's continue to double, things are looking good. First ultrasound at 7 weeks 1 day. See heartbeat! But baby is only measuring 5 weeks 6 days. Uh oh. Next ultrasound at 7 weeks 6 days. Only three days growth, but still a constant heartbeat. Next ultrasound at 8 weeks 2 days. No heartbeat :( Now here I am, at 8 weeks 6 days waiting for the dreaded miscarriage to happen. I mean, really?!? I know there are worse things in the world, but I thought that we'd finally have some good luck. I thought "don't worry, things have to be fine. We've been through so much, this is our silver lining." Not so much. Things are not fine. We are losing another baby, another set of hopes and dreams despite my being as realistic and not hopeful as possible. UGH. I am sick of this. I am sick of being those people. I want my daughter back. I want to be pregnant. I want lots of babies. I can get pregnant. I can stay pregnant. Why can't I bring a baby home?

Grief

Grief doesn't go away ... it changes, yes, but at times it's as raw today as it was forty weeks and five days ago ... If I'm being truly honest, I am broken. Don't get me wrong, I function just fine. And in so many senses, I truly am "ok". I go to work, I clean the house, do the laundry. I even smile and have fun with P. I know that despite it all, I have a good life. But inside, I am broken. On a near daily basis, it feels like my heart is ripped out of my chest, thrown on the ground and stomped on. And every day, I try and pick up the pieces. It is hard. Some days, I am just resigned to the fact that this is my life and I wonder if it ever really happened. Surely I couldn't endure this?! And others, I just hurt. I am constantly transported to the delivery room. I relive that day over and over and over again. I dream about it and wake up sobbing ... I miss Brienna. I ache for her and I want her back in the worst way ...

I found this poem and it made me cry and cry. This is how it feels. How can I call anyone and scream that my daughter is dead? I couldn't do it two days after she died and I certainly can't do it now. P is the only one who knows, so I talk to him. He gets the ebbs and flows, the roller coaster. The ability to be bawling one minute and laughing the next. I alienate myself from everyone else because pretending to be fine is exhausting. Every single relationship I have has changed because Ihave changed. To the core. This is a lonely road. I'm getting there, but it's hard. They say time heals, and I guess to a certain extent, it does. But it doesn't change the fact that I long for my baby. For the little girl she should be becoming ... time can't heal the fact that I am here and she is not.

A Mother's Grief

You ask me how I'm feeling,

but do you really want to know?

The moment I try telling you

You say you have to go

How can I tell you,

what it's been like for me

I am haunted, I am broken

By things that you don't see

You ask me how I'm holding up,

but do you really care?

The second I try to speak my heart,

You start squirming in your chair.

Because I am so lonely,

you see, no one comes around,

I'll take the words I want to say

And quietly choke them down.

Everyone avoids me now,

Because they don't know what to say

They tell me I'll be there for you,

then turn and walk away.

Call me if you need me,

that's what everybody said,

But how can I call you and scream

into the phone,

My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me

say the words I need to say

Why does a mothers grief

scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending

as my heart pounds in my chest,

I say things to make you comfortable,

but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things

that are too sad to be told,

of the helplessness of holding a child

who in your arms grows cold?

Maybe you can tell me,

How should one behave,

who's had to follow their child's casket,

watched it perched above a grave?

You cannot imagine

what it was like for me that day

to place a final kiss upon that box,

and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,

and I believe you do,

if you really want to help me,

here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,

reach out and take my hand,

Say "My friend, I've come to listen,

I want to understand."

Just hold my hand and listen

that's all you need to do,

And if by chance I shed a tear,

it's alright if you do to.

--Kelly Cummings

I love you Brienna Marie ...

Blahhhhh

I think I've become socially awkward. I so fear a surprise "we're pregnant!" from one of our friends that I just don't go out anymore. I know people might say that's no way to live, but I can't help it. P and I were thinking of seeing if friends of ours wanted to grab dinner tonight. And it was my idea until I thought "what if they're pregnant?" and then I would need to leave immediately and it just would not be good. I don't want to live this way ... but it's safer than being taken by surprise and not having my game face on.

I so wish I was pregnant. I need to run 10 miles this weekend and laid in bed all morning thinking "if I was pregnant, I'd have an excuse not to run" ... now, I'm just lazy and wishing I could do nothing all day. Can I blame Clomid? It seems reasonable, right? I also wonder if I'm depressed and debating calling Dr. M again ... she's awesome, and I don't want to need medicine, but if it means not living like this perhaps it's for the best. I think at this point, I'd do it more for P than for myself. It must suck for him to have a miserable wife. Poor guy.

Raw

I was talking to a friend that battled infertility for years, and she said it was hard to talk about because it was so raw. That is the perfect word to describe this. Raw. And vulnerable. And shitty. And lonely. I don't like to tell anyone in my real life how I feel, because I don't want to be judged. I hate being in my own head, let alone letting anyone else in ... I am miserable, yet I am fine. I function. I go to work. I clean the house, I do the laundry, shop for groceries. But at the same time, I am just broken. Inside, I am broken. And outside, I go through the motions. My daughter died nine months ago and it still hurts like a stab in the chest.

New Day, New Attitude

Ok, so it's a new day and I feel a little bit better. The sun was out all day today, so B and I went to the beach and I think it's just what I needed - P is skiing, I was at the beach. I love New England! I am still majorly bummed, but I don't hate the universe and I can see that things aren't really as terrible as I made them out to be yesterday. I do wish Bri.enna was here though. And I do wish we were pregnant :( I guess I just have to be positive and hope that this is the month.

Whiny Bitch

I am a whiny little bitch right now. You were warned.

I feel like I have regressed so much this week. I am miserable. I have zero energy to do anything and would like nothing more than to curl up in my bed and wake up six months from now. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to shower, I don't want to work, I don't want to run, I don't want to smile and I barely want to breathe. I just want to hide. I haven't felt like this in a while and I forgot how debilitating it is.

We found out friends of ours are pregnant with their second baby. Their daughter is 16 months old. Poor P had to tell me and I just started bawling. For the better part of an hour, he just held me and I sobbed. Why does everyone else get what I want so badly? Our girls were supposed to grow up together, but our daughter died. How is that fair? And now here they are, 13 weeks pregnant. It's been slowly killing me every time one of our friends giddily announces they're PREGNANT! With their first BABY! And are so EXCITED! I put on my game face and I'm happy for them. I am. I learned that it's okay to have more than emotion at the same time. But it sucks. I steeled myself for the round of first-timers, but I wasn't ready for the round of second-timers (despite a sneaking suspicion that they were in fact pregnant). I feel like we are so late to the party - which is fitting, because we are late for everything. Except work. I fear the day I am taken by surprise in public and someone will witness me cry that hideous cry you never want anyone to see.

My game face is cracking. I don't know how many more times I can take my heart being be ripped out of my body and stomped on. I am so tired of picking up the pieces and putting it back together. It sucks. And yes, I realize we still have a ways to go before we're even technically considered to be having "trouble". But everything just exacerbates that Bri.enna isn't here. And it sucks. More than I can possibly describe ...

I also got my period. Joy.

So that is why I am a whiny bitch. And I have to work tonight. And Sunday night. And we're supposed to go to a fundraiser for a friend and I just bailed. P is skiing with friends and going afterwards. I am going to wallow on the couch with the stack of Pringles I just bought. At least it's going to be 50 degrees out and I can take B to the beach. Sigh.

Olympic Gold!

At least that's what it feels like anyway :)

I finished the marathon!! I am so happy. I didn't let Bri.enna down. I'm pretty sure she even called in some favors for us. I struggle with whether or not certain things happen by pure chance or if maybe she had something to do with it. It's weird, but lately I'm just choosing to believe that these certain things are little gifts from my angel.

The weather was supposed to be miserable on Sunday. But by Saturday night, the forecast looked okay. And it was. A little cold, but the sun shone for awhile and the snow/rain/wind didn't really start until I crossed the finish line. Weird. There was so much traffic getting to the race on Sunday morning. We were at our wits end and rolled down the window to ask a parking attendant if she had any advice. As we asked, her walkie-talkie buzzed and she told us there was ONE space available in the lot we happened to be in front of. The lot directly in front of the start/finish line. Crazy weird.

The race itself was hard. I felt slow the entire time, and never really felt like I hit my sweet spot. It was a two-loop course primarily geared to the half marathoners. After mile 13, I was basically running alone. At mile 14, I realized just how solitary running is. And how it's something that only YOU can do. It was a neat feeling. At mile 17, I knew I could finish because I had single digit miles to go. At mile 20, I felt Bri.enna with me. It sounds insane, but I did. I just sensed her with me and in my head, could picture her on my shoulder helping me along. Like we were buddies ... and I started crying (had to force myself to stop because I feared an asthma attack and this genius didn't have an inhaler) but I also picked up the pace. And the next three miles were a breeze. I felt good and in my head, knew I just needed to get to 23 because P was meeting me there to run the last three. Miles 23-25 were torture. I had to walk a few times and had some uh, stomach issues, but at mile 25 I was able to see the light and just put my head down and ran. And running up that hill, seeing my family cheering me on and crossing that finish line was awesome. And then I started crying. Again. And P met me and scooped me up in a hug and just held me and let me cry.

I still cannot believe I did it. I wish I had taken the time to savor it more ... I did this. Me alone and I am really proud of that. I am stronger than I ever gave myself credit for. So thanks, baby girl. I owe it to you :)

P.S. My time was 4:38:44.  About 10 minutes slower than my "goal" but who gives a rat's ass - I finished a marathon!

Not so Fertile-Myrtle

So, as I mentioned in a previous post, I fully anticipated being pregnant by now. And we're not. Still. I am starting to get very frustrated. I know, it's not technically trouble until you've been trying for a year. But 50% of couples having unprotected sex get pregnant within 6 months. Hasn't happened with us. We started trying almost immediately. We joked that we'd have Irish twins. It seemed perfect. The first few months, I was actually relieved to get my period. There is no way in hell we would have been ready to have another baby. I needed that time to focus solely on Bri.enna. And that I did. So it was good. Fast forward a few months, we're still not pregnant. I tried to time it using those ovulation kits from CVS, no such luck. They said I didn't ovulate. My period was late. Several times. I would get my hopes up (all the while trying not to get my hopes up) and that whore AF* would show up anyway. It's hard not to be frustrated. Especially when I know 13 people that are pregnant right now. And of course it feels like they're all having girls. I am happy for them, but it makes me sick to my stomach with jealousy too. Hearing about their baby showers and what the nursery is going to look like makes me want to punch a wall. Am I a bad person? Maybe. But I can't help it. Our baby was taken away from us and I want another one. NOW.

I finally broke down and called my doctor this month. He completely understood my frustration and because of my irregular periods, suggested we try Clomid. So I did. And I chart my temperature every freaking morning and we have sex when we're supposed to. And guess what, I don't think I'm pregnant. I can feel that I'm getting my period. And that makes me mad, sad and frustrated. I admire the people that have struggled with infertility for years. I don't know how they do it. It's been 7 months for us and I'm freaking out. I am one more period away from screaming. I want to bring a baby home from the hospital. P and I are so ready ... and it breaks my heart because I think he might be even more disappointed than I am every month. He stays positive, but he's sad too. We just assumed it would work as quickly as it did with Bri.enna. And it hasn't. And it's a lesson in patience that I am having a really hard time with!

*So not clever enough to think of calling AF a whore. Stole it from another blog.

Nervous Nelly

I am so freaking nervous about this marathon! It's supposed to be rain/snow and 39 on Sunday. I mean, really?! When I left work this morning that was the exact weather outside and it was COLD. I am so afraid of letting Bri.enna down ... I doubt myself and my ability to finish the race and am so totally in my own head that it's bad.

UPDATE: I went shopping today and bought myself some rain gear. I'm feeling a bit better. I so want to finish this marathon. Gone (almost) are my lofty time goals. Crossing that finish line is enough for me. I just want to run a good race and do it for Bri.enna. I cannot let her down. There is so little I can do for her ... any chance I get to do something, anything for her makes me happy. I miss her :( So much it hurts. I sobbed and sobbed last night. P held me and then I felt better. This just never gets easy. My baby is gone. Did this really happen to me?! It couldn't have, I can't survive something like this! It's horrible, the worst thing that could ever happen. Something like that would ruin my marriage. Yet here I am. Stronger. With a better marriage than I could have hoped. About to run my first marathon ever, (hopefully) fulfilling a life long dream. Thank you Bri.enna. Because of you, this is all possible. I love you and miss you so much ...

Marathon Mama

I am set to run my first ever marathon next weekend. I can't wait and yet I'm petrified at the same time! Here's how it came to be:

One of the things I missed most while pregnant was running. I had a love/hate relationship with it prior to that point though ... it was something I enjoyed, but I always ended up injuring myself. I ran track in high school (the 100, not long distances!) and ran in college to stay in shape but ended up with ITBS. Despite having surgery to try and correct it, I constantly had problems with it and was sidelined any time I ran over 4 miles. Regardless, I missed it when I was pregnant and started up shortly after Bri.enna was born and my lady bits could tolerate it - they throbbed for about 3 months and to this day, throb when I have my period and after a long run ... the things they don't tell you about having a baby!

My sister and I decided to train for the Seacoast Half Marathon in Novemeber. I started increasing my mileage sloooowly and found that I was okay. I ordered a Patt Strap for my ITB and whether it was mental or not, it worked! I ran the race injury free and loved every minute of it. We ran in memory of Bri.enna - had t-shirts made, fans to cheer us on and everything. It was awesome. I knew the minute I finished that I wanted to run another one and maybe even a marathon.


I started pseudo-training for the Hyannis Marathon. I didn't fully commit, because I 100% anticipated being pregnant. (I thought I'd be pregnant by the half marathon, but more on that later). When I got my period yet again in December, I decided to just go for it, thinking that even if we got pregnant that month, I'd only be 7-8 weeks along. I'm still not pregnant, so it was a good decision to commit to this marathon.

Back to training ... I totally slacked off on the weekly runs, but faithfully did my long runs every week and surprised myself by being able to do them with relative ease. It's strangely addicting, despite the fact that most of them were on the freaking treadmill. Never again will I run 20 miles on one machine - ugh. But, I did it, even when it felt hard. And I found that I can run faster than I ever thought. I ran the half at a 9:46 pace, beating my goal of a 10:00 min/mile pace. I thought that was as fast as I could get, but started doing my short runs even faster ... just on Wednesday, I did 7 miles in 62:10 - an 8:53 pace!!

I'm hoping to run the marathon at about a 10:00 pace. My true goal is just to finish, but I'm wicked competitive with myself and really want to break 4:30 (about a 10:15 pace) ... my next marathon though, I want to train much smarter and run much faster. I truly owe it all to Bri.enna. I never thought I could run a marathon. It had always been a goal of mine, but never did I think I could actually do it. (And I haven't yet, but I'm hopeful!) Every time it felt hard, I reminded myself that I held Bri.enna for more time than I'll be running for. And I would give anything to have that time back, so I can certainly run for less time ... it motivates me every time :)

So, that's why I decided to run a marathon. And now I'm toying with the idea of running 1000 miles. I read the blog of another girl who set out to run 400 miles in 2009, and I decided I wanted to up it. And I couldn't stop thinking of that song, "I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more ..." and decided that I would RUN 500 miles and then RUN 500 more. To do it all in one year is going to be about 2o miles/week which is a stretch. So I'm thinking maybe 500 miles in 2010 and 500 miles in 2011. We'll see. But I really want to try. And I hope I don't let Bri.enna down!!

Hiatus

If you asked me why I haven’t posted anything in the last 5+ months, I’m not even sure I’d have an answer. Yet for some reason, I haven't. I didn’t stop writing altogether; I have several drafts that I wrote and just never got around to posting. Again, not entirely sure why. I think part of it had to do with people from my “real” life reading my innermost thoughts and feelings. I started to feel incredibly exposed and vulnerable and then started getting paranoid that other people would be reading and I wouldn’t know it. It's certainly a risk you take in the blog world and it started to bother me … but lately, I’ve been itching to post. I especially wanted to write about my marathon training in honor of Bri.enna. So, I opted to create a new blog title and imported all my old posts. It seemed like the best of both worlds. Hopefully I'm happy with the decision :)

Intro

I've been blogging on/off for the last two years or so. I loved my last blog - it even had some followers! - but kinda just stopped writing. A few people from my real life knew about it, and I was feeling too exposed, and therefore too vulnerable to keep writing. So I just stopped. And wrote things when I wanted to, but never posted them. I'm thinking maybe I'll start posting them here. I want an outlet. I want to remember all my crazy thoughts about this time in my life. So apparently, this is it ... here is my story:

My husband and I got married in October 2007 and found out we were pregnant in September 2008. We were overjoyed. So excited to be parents, already in love with our little baby to be. December 2008 we find out our baby is possibly sick. We have an amnio, and find out she is. With Trisomy 18 - a diagnosis considered to be incompatible with life. We're devastated, heartbroken and at a loss. We make the only decision we could, and carry on, hopeful that we'll have some time with her when she's born. At 40 weeks and 5 days pregnant, I'm induced with good ol' Pitocin. Bri.enna is born at 8:50 PM. They tell me she has no heartbeat and my world collapses.

P and I spend the most heartwarming and heartbroken five hours of our life holding her, loving her and trying to fit in a lifetime's worth of everything into no time at all. We were blessed to have a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep capture those precious moments with her. 

Fast forward eight and a half months, and here I am. Struggling to be normal when I feel anything but. Living in a world that my precious daughter will never know. Wishing I was a time traveler so I could go back to June 2 and hold my baby. Trying desperately to conceive again and getting increasingly frustrated that it's not working!! 

Here's to my next adventure in blogging ...

Let the Taper Begin!

I ran my longest training run this weekend. 20 miles. On the treadmill. And it was miserable. I wanted to quit so many times, but talked to Brienna a lot and convinced myself to stick it out. I was so proud of myself! I know it sounds stupid, but it was not a fun run and yet I did it. Before Brienna, I wouldn't have done that. I would have justified quitting and then been mad at myself. But I want Brienna to be proud of me. There are so few things that I can do for her, and if running a marathon is one of them, then I am determined to do it.

Now begins the taper portion of training.  And I can't wait!

Hope

Brienna taught me about the power of hope. I constantly look back to June 2 and am amazed at how hopeful we remained. I was smiling all day, hopeful that we would have time. That Brienna would be born alive. I look back and cannot believe how calm I appeared on the outside. The pictures of me that day are almost happy-looking. In a way, it makes sense. I was about to give birth! In and of itself, that is an amazing accomplishment. Despite the fear and uncertainty, we were hopeful. All day. We remained hopeful up until that fateful minute when they told us Brienna didn't have a heartbeat.

It would be easy to feel betrayed by that hope, yet we clung to it. And still do. I cling to the hope that Brienna didn't suffer. I hope that some day, we will be reunited again. That I will get to hold her, kiss her, hug her and love on her in ways I didn't get to here on Earth.

Brienna taught me about the power of hope ... it's a lesson I am glad I learned.

Resilience

Brienna has taught me that we as a human species are so resilient. Despite the fact that my spirit feels crushed and my heart aches, every day I get out of bed. Every day, I put one foot in front of the other and attempt to live life. Every day is a reminder that she is not here, yet every day I live. We are resilient. I am resilient.  And it boggles my mind.

Loving the Taper

After a delicious martini, late bedtime and sluggish morning, I opted to make this week a taper week. Instead of my tentative 18 miles, I ran 12. And it was glorious! I ran on the treadmill and felt good running. I (think) I could easily have done more, but decided that sticking with 12 was probably wise. I ran faster than my normal long runs, and enjoyed myself more than I have been. I had told myself last week that I would run outside no matter what, but it was frigid this morning and I've been pretty anxious lately, so opted to not run alone.

I heard the birth of a stillborn baby referred to as a song of silence ... I thought it so fitting. I am constantly replaying the moment Brienna was born. For whatever reason, I didn't expect her to cry. I think I knew that if she was born alive, she would be so sick and not have it in her to cry. I longed to hear it, believe me, but I didn't expect it. I still never believed that she would be stillborn - and I hate that term, but really, it's the only one that fits - and sometimes cannot believe that they told me she didn't have a heartbeat. I wonder, should we have tried to revive her despite the fact that we knew she had a 50% chance of being stillborn? I think I know in my heart we did the right thing for her, but I can't help but wonder if we somehow could have changed it ...