Plum

There is both joy and trepidation as I type that title.  Joy, because if all is well, that is the size of the little one inside of me.  Trepidation, because I have not yet heard the heartbeat  and have all sorts of worries and fears that I shall find something horrible out at my first doctor's appointment a week from now.

So, we are 10 weeks along.  I am doing OK.  I feel really crappy.  All. Day.  Long.  I don't know how  my husband can stand my whining and whinging consistently and all the time.  This time I have a lot more nausea, along with the killer indigestion pains.  And let me say, ****warning, grossness alert**** that I have very much impressed my son with my ability to pass gas on either end.  Oh yes.  His eyes have this gleam of admiration every time.  Thank goodness I spend my days with a five year old, and not in a board room....  Many a time I have reminded myself of my grandpa.  He took Dioval and had very loud belches...

Anyhow, I feel nasty, and the only position I feel comfortable in is lying down.  And once I am down, I don't want to get up, because there is something about going from prone to standing that really brings on the nausea.  Just like brushing my teeth.  But this time I am being really clever.  I have purchased children's toothpaste, the kind you can swallow.  I don't swallow it, by the way.  But it works because it doesn't do that dreadful foaming thing that regular toothpaste does.  Foamy toothpaste really kicks in my ralphing reflex. 

Thanks to listening to me complain.  I don't suffer in silence.  I prefer to suffer in technicolour, with lots of cheering going on.  Yup.  But seriously, I know, I know.  How fortunate am I to be pregnant?  I so am.  I so am.  Don't think I don't know that.

On the other hand, I have had a hard time getting excited or looking forward to anything, because, well, so many things seem possible to have go wrong.  Not only have I been wondering and maybe almost expecting to lose the pregnancy like last time, but then there are the other crazy thoughts. 

For example:  I am feeling REALLY HUGE.  I am ready to bust out the pregnancy clothes, my regular pants are so not comfortable.  My uterus is not yet out of my pelvis, but I look 5 months pregnant.  One of the reasons I decided to come out of the pregnancy closet was that trying not to look pregnant this last week just got to be too much suffering.  I am ready for sweat pants and big shirts.  In fact, even my "comfy" elastic pants feel uncomfortable as they press on my pain-riddled intestines.  So now you know!

And so, what thoughts do I have about this?  Well, I wonder to myself if what has happened to me is that a huge tumor is growing in my abdomen.  Yup.  You heard me right.  Maybe what I think is a pregnancy is really some weird cancer that causes strange hormone reactions in my body and is filling up my abdominal cavity.   Maybe that is the real reason I feel so absolutely ill.  Because it is hard to believe, you gotta admit, that something fabulous like a baby could make you feel so much like your digestive system has a serious viral attack that just won't go away.

So I am glad I am finally headed to the doctor next week.  I am hoping there will be a heartbeat (though there might not be at 11 weeks).  I am hoping when she pokes around and investigates things I don't hear a sharply indrawn breathe with the muttered words "Good Heavens!"  I am expecting her to tell me my blood pressure is too high, because I might really be that nervous. 

It's not like I have been stressing all the way til now.  I so couldn't even believe it was real.  I couldn't stress that there was a problem with the baby because I wasn't excited about the baby because I couldn't believe there was a baby and that I was not merely suffering 5 weeks of indigestion for nothing.  I'm only stressing now because I am almost at 10 weeks and have not lost the pregnancy yet, which makes it begin to sink in...  and oddly and conversely, makes it seem that much more dangerous and precarious for bad news.

Someone said to me that if I was meant to have another baby I would.  I sure can't disagree with that.  But of course, the trouble is if you want to be meant to have a baby and then everything goes ka-blooey!  And if you really want NOT to be meant to have some strange internal cancer... ya know?  I know that God is taking care of us.  Everyday I watch Caeden walk to school, I am overwhelmed by a fierce joy in the wonderful gift God has given me in my oldest child.  Even as I still feel so blessed to have had Joel, even with all the pain.  I am abundantly blessed.  I am very grateful.  And very human.  So I can't wait until that doctor's appointment is over with.  :)  (not that it is any guarantee either, but hey, I got take it a week at a time!)

The Summer

I guess I sort of took the summer off from this blog.  And now here I am, ready to write a post, and of course now I am asking myself how to fill in that gap.

Hmmmm....

Well, I guess I will start by saying that the hormonal fluctuations involved in the miscarriage really threw me for awhile.   Yes, normally I have strong emotional reactions to things.  I like to say that I am a passionate person.  The weird thing about the month after the miscarriage was that on one hand I had an abundance of emotional reaction, but on the other hand I felt weirdly disconnected, at times....

I'll leave that for now, and say that Steve and I finally got out to PEI to visit his family this summer.  It was a good visit and Caeden loved it.  Of course, it was hard for me.  Particularly as Joel's birthday happened during the visit, so there was that plus all the thinking about him NOT being with us on our first trip out in five years.

The beach was lovely, I have always loved the ocean. 

And it was really good and important for us to spend time with Steve's family.

I found some videos and pictures that my in-laws had which I had not yet seen.  That is not as strange as it sounds, because when Nana and Papa came for visits they took TONS of pictures each time, and not all of them ended up getting to me from PEI.  So it was beautiful to find those pictures and videos that I didn't have, both of Joel and of Caeden.

I think I am starting to feel more like myself now.  Like I said, I felt strangely disconnected at times... or ... well... just not like "myself." 

Particularly when it comes to God.  I felt disconnected from things, most especially from Him.  And what troubled me at times was that I just couldn't seem to care about that.  I'm glad that seems to be over.  I'm really glad that God understands all about strange hormonal fluctuations, and about freaky human emotions, and about how often there are things that are just not good in us when it comes to relating to Him.  And He remains faithful.

So it has been a strange summer.  And now it is about over.  There is a quote I have always liked, though I no longer have any idea who said it first.  "So, I go on, not knowing.  I would not if I might.  I would rather walk in the dark with God, then go alone in the light."

I think that shall be my motto, for the months ahead...  hope I can remember it.  :)

Bad news, I'm afraid

Yes, there is no good way to say it, so, once again I am a statistic.  I am the one in ten confirmed pregnancies that end before the first trimester.  At least I am in good, if sad, company.

It happened over the course of the last week, which is why you didn't get a "ten week" update on Thursday.  I lost the pregnancy Friday night, after a worry-some and difficult and blue sort of week.

I told you at 8 weeks, thinking that at eight weeks things are looking pretty good, and plus, I'm not one of those people who like to suffer through killer indigestion, slight nausea, tiredness, food and smell aversions, monster hormonal/emotional shifts, all in silence.  If I'm going to be tired, grouchy, and green, I feel I have a right to a formal excuse.

And the cost of sharing the information is the risk of having to later retract it.  So here I am, to say I don't need to borrow any maternity clothes after all.  :(

But we are OK.  Disappointed, but OK.  A little miffed that I had to endure 5 weeks of so much discomfort for nothing.  And of course, sad too.  It is, for lack of a better word, a real bummer.

So back to square one, and now it will be EVEN harder.  As if it wasn't hard enough being pregnant and not stressing about the future... (yikes, I might be feeling sorry for myself.  Deep down, I do know that I am actually very blessed)  If I get pregnant again... it's going to feel different.

Which means that if, several months from now, you see me tired, grouchy, and green with a furrow in my brow and a cautious manner, you might have an idea what is going on.  That is about as positive as I can muster today.

And to say that though these sorts of events are confusing when it comes to understand what the good Lord is up to, I am still saying that God is good.  All the time.  Just thought you should know.

Week Nine

Week nine.  Baby is the size of an olive.  That is all,  just an olive.  But if you look at the pics, it is amazing to see someone so small look so much like a baby.

Olive continues to affirm his/her presence by wreaking havoc on  my digestive system.  Oh yeah.  But there is still a part of me that does not believe.  In fact, since the indigestion has ramped up, I feel disbelief that this is actually caused by a baby.  I keep expecting to find that I have lost the pregnacy, because surely all the pain and discomfort is more in keeping with a miscarriage then a healthy pregnancy.  At times my stomach cramps have even almost seemed like that sort of onset of labour type feeling...

That's how my thinking works.  But so far, so good.  Maybe if I can finally hear a heartbeat, it will seem real.  But that remains doubtful for a while.  I go to see my mid-wife right after I hit week ten.  Most of the time, that is too soon to find the heartbeat.  Bummer.  That means waiting for another 4 or 5 weeks until my next appointment.

On Monday, it was the year anniversary of my Dad's death.  My mom spent the day at my house, and in the evening we went to the graves.  It really didn't seem real to me.  I can't believe that it has been a year since my Dad died.  Though Father's Day was a harder day for me than Monday.  Father's Day was quite difficult.  It was very sad for me.

I thought I had a lot to say.  Now I find I don't .  Still, I will try and keep everyone apprised of the situation as the weeks go on.  Not that my pregnancy is going to be that interesting (at least, I hope NOT!).  But still.  It's more for me than you.  I can't remember much of my pregnancy with Joel.  This time, I want a place to remember it all, and how it felt. 

News

OK, I guess I'm ready to post this here on the blog.  Deep breath.  Yes, I am pregnant. 

As of today, I am at 8 weeks.  Baby is the size of a pinto bean.  Still early days.  First appointment with the mid-wife is in two weeks.  But I thought I might as well put the info on the blog and be official. 

It took two pregnancy sticks, a coupla weeks, and the onset of some very bad indigestion for me to start to believe I am pregnant.  I've only just started to be brave enough to glance at baby things and maternity clothes.

Which, I am afraid, I am going to need very soon.  It is always so embarrassing to me, how quickly I just balloon out!  I have only gained the "normal" pound or two, but I already feel as big as a house and have my belt buckle back a notch.  And I did mention the indigestion, right.  That it was REALLY BAD.

But really, I guess some of you want to know the real "nitty-gritty" of it.  How am I doing feelings-wise?

As I said, I could not believe I was pregnant, specially not so quickly.  I have not been stressed out really at all.  Partly due to disbelief.  You can't be stressed out about something that you can't believe is true... right?

And I am just, at this time, feeling peaceful about it all.  The worst odds I face are 1/4 chance that little Pinto Bean has a PBD.  I feel, at times, both happy and sad.  I am happy because I hope I shall get to hold another baby in my arms.  I am sad when I look at baby items that my baby might not be able to use.

I'm sort of living "in between" two different realities.  I'd like to get excited about all things baby, but I can't go there.  It might not happen.  So I am trying to focus on the things that remain for us with baby, healthy or not.  Baby will be tiny, and cute, and cuddly.  Baby will wear cute little outfits, and keep my from sleep.  Baby will learn to smile, and that will light up our hearts.  These are the things I allow myself to dwell on and be excited about.

On the days when I can believe that it is really happening.  Because some days I just can't believe that it really is.

Oh, and if you don't have a due date calculator handy, I am officially "due" on Feb. 2nd.  But I know better than that.  My babies come early.  So my personal prediction is that baby will come on January 25th.  ;)

This week was planting week.  I planted "Joel's" flower bed at our house, and then I planted his "garden" on his grave.  Thought I'd put up some pics for those who are interested.

So, here is a picture of Joel's name, planted in the front bed at our house.  The roses are looking awesome.  Once the flowers get established and fill out a bit, I'll put up another pic, because you should (hopefully) be able to read the name more clearly.

Right after I planted this bed, I went in and had a real eye-buster type cry.  It was a "good" cry.  I love my boy as much as ever.  And I still miss him.  I'm glad to see his name in those flowers, each day.  Just like his name is also in my heart, each day.

Here is his grave site, right after I planted it.  The perenials came up nicely from last year.  If the weather is right, it should grow and fill in nicely.  I'm looking forward to that.  I love coming to see his "garden."

News

Joel's "day" went well, if you can say that.  We watched some videos, we went to his grave and put up a new wind chime.  We cried.  And in the evening, a few close friends came by to pray and sing with us.  It was a good way to spend a day.

The hardest moment, which surprised me, came that night as I got into bed.  At that moment, I felt as if it were just happening, that first night of climbing into bed without Joel there with us.  The overwhelming sense of loss, of missing his presence there with us in the room... I wondered how I would fall asleep.  And remembered back to the day he died and wondered in amazement that I had indeed been able to fall asleep that night, and the nights after.  But I did.  And on that anniversary night I did fall asleep too, after I mourned a bit more the son that is missing...

And now I have some news to share.  Something that Steve and I have been thinking about, and praying about, and working through for quite a while now.  We have decided that we will try for another baby.

Sometimes people refer to this as "playing the baby lottery."  Taking a "chance" that our child will not be healthy.  Well, I understand what they mean.  Steve and I would both very, very much like to have a healthy child.

But I have decided, for me, that "baby lottery" doesn't apply.  It's only a lottery if you can lose.  :)  I write this with caution.  I don't want to make anyone else feel badly or hurt them because trying for another baby when you have lost a child, or have one that is ill, well, it is a painful topic.

I know.  I have gone all the way from "I'd never choose to have another pregnancy that would risk a PBD" to now saying that I will be...happy? to have another one.  I understand the pain involved in this.  Well, honestly, there is still pain involved for me.  I'm hardly going to be escaping any pain if we get pregnant with a child who is terminally ill.

It has been an interesting progression in my own heart and mind to reach this choice.  I realized that I did truly believe in my heart that Joel's life had been mostly happy.  That his life was a huge blessing to me was never a doubt, but in spite of the sickness and suffering, I am sure he was happy to live.  And as I truly believe that he is now safely, joyfully, in heaven with God...well, how was it not worth it?

Then it was Caeden holding me back.  I just thought "How could I ask Caeden to have another sick sibling?"  But as time has gone on, I have changed my thinking on that as well.  I won't bore you with all the details, indeed, some of it is hard to explain... it's so "instinctive," but I just felt that perhaps in the end what was important was not whether or not he had a sibling either healthy or ill, but more how his parents parented him, and what place God has in our home.

And then, when those two reasons were out of the way... well, then it really hit me.  I was afraid.  Very afraid.  I realized that I (me personally) had no reason not to have a baby... other than the fact that having another dying child scared the poop out of me.  In a sense, it still does.  I hope I have never given the impression that loving and caring for a sick and dying person is easy in any way. 

But I remembered that I didn't do it in my own strength the first time.  I had lots of help from friends and family.  But most of all, I had help from God.  "The Lord is my Helper, I will not be afraid..."

And I thought about it.  Which was the option I truly wanted the least?  There are three things that could happen.  1. we could have a healthy child (yes, my favorite option)  2. we could have another child with a PBD, or 3. we would have no baby at all.  And I realized that option 3 was the one I LEAST wanted.

Now you might be wondering what happened to the adoption option?  Well, it is on the side burner for now.  We will see.  Right now, we can not afford a private adoption which is the most likely way to adopt a baby.  Going through "the state," well, chances of a baby are pretty slim, this year there were only 4 adoptions of children under a year old in my province.

And when it came to adopting an older child... it's a lot of explanation as well, so let me just say that for our family as a whole, at this time, it just is not the right choice.  Things can change, of course.  But adopting an older child can be pretty challenging.  I have seen that in real life so to speak.  And we are not ready for that at this time, and there is no guarantee we will ever be.

So when I realized that if it were to go on being just Steve, Caeden and I... well... that I think 10 years from now I would regret that we didn't try to add another child to our family... when I realized that I would rather love a child, care for a child, stress over a child, hurt and sorrow over a child, and lose that child, then not have that baby at all...

it just seemed like the right choice would be to try for a baby and leave it in God's hands.

I can't really lose.  If we have a healthy baby - I will be ecstatic.  If we have a baby with PBD, you may still congratulate me, because I am going to enjoy every precious moment I can.  There will be tears in my eyes, and they will be of both sorrow and joy.  And if we have no baby at all, then we will wait on God and see if at a later date another option for growing our family opens up.  In any case, I will go on learning to do what I am learning to do... trust in the Lord God Almighty.

I wanted to share that here.  I am asking family and friends on board with this, because I may be sad if there is no baby and I want to be able to share that sadness openly.  And of course, if there is a sick baby, I am hoping that there will be people who will still support us, even if we have choosen this.  I don't ask because I think people are in any way obligated to support us.  You are not.  I just hope that you want to.  :)