Let each day with hope begin

I've said before in my blog that I'm not a very religious person, though I do believe in God, and I am baptized and confirmed. One complication that I've faced over the past few years is that I'm protestant, and my husband is catholic, so it makes going to church together more of a challenge. That's a story for a different day, but I wanted to share something religious with you all because it makes me smile (and get choked up) every time I read it. These words are actually a children's book called "Give Me Grace" by Cynthia Rylant that I read to my son often. Although it's a religious children's book, I find it to not be overly religious, and I find it incredibly uplifting and thought provoking. (Somehow the words feel very appropriate for those in similar situations to mine, as well.)

Monday
Monday make me good and kind
to all creatures that I find.
Help me love God's whole creation.
Make my life a celebration.

Tuesday
Tuesday teach me faith and caring.
Teach me wisdom, teach me sharing.
Raise me up and make me strong.
Be with me the whole day long.

Wednesday
Wednesday make me full of light.
Guide my heart both day and night.
Give me gladness, give me grace.
Shine your love upon my face.

Thursday
Thursday open up my eyes
to your angels in the skies.
Let me know their wings are near me,
and that they will always hear me.

Friday
Friday keep the ones I love.
Comfort them from up above.
Lift their hearts and hold them dear.
Help them know that you are here.

Saturday
Saturday in early morn,
make me thankful I was born.
Give my spirit peace within.
Let each day with hope begin.

Sunday
Sunday in a quiet time,
bless this little life on mine.
In the wonder of each day,
let me live a holy way.

Amen.

By Cynthia Rylant

Want to be out

After a pretty good day the past couple of days, I'm having a down day.

One of the reasons I really want to be pregnant - VERY pregnant, not just first trimester pregnant - is that I want to tell my story. I'm so tired of not feeling able to open up to people about my miscarriages. I don't want pity. I certainly don't want to be a topic of conversation behind my back (whether good or bad). I just want a baby.

It's not that when / if I get pregnant that I want to say to people, "look, if I did it, you can do it." That's not helpful. It's just annoying.

What I want to be able to say is, "I understand. I'm sorry. However you feel is okay."

I hope that if I do have another baby, I don't lose this passion. There's not enough of it out there.

In the midst of the crap

--my son mentioned--

Right now is that time in my cycle when I don't have anything to do. It's too early to start the OPK. It's way too early to start "trying" and it's waaaaaaaay too early to start worrying about the two week wait or hpts.

Remarkably, this is the time in my cycle when I often feel the most at peace. There's nothing I can do right now. I'm okay with that. For someone who likes to be in control of a situation, that's not bad.

Although there are times when having a two-year-old are very trying (yes, there are a lot of times... like now, when he's having a tantrum on the floor because I would only give him three Cray.ons, not all of them) he's one of the best things that's ever happened to me.

When D is asking to be picked up for the 30th time in a day, I often find myself thinking, "when he's 15, I'll wish I could still pick him up and cuddle him." That thought allows me to step back and remind myself that if dinner is 5 minutes later or a load of laundry doesn't get done right now, it's not a big deal. Those things can wait. D won't. He'll keep getting older before my eyes.

So when he asks for that 30th time, I'll pick him up, snuggle him, smell his hair and give him Eskimo kisses.

I would love to have another baby, (and I still have faith that I will,) but if I never do, I don't want to look back on these two years and wonder where D's childhood went. I want to be the "old woman with no regrets."

I have an amazing life with a wonderful husband and son. Today I'm choosing to focus on that as I wait for whatever comes next.

Not the same

I got an e-mail from a friend of a friend yesterday. She's 11 weeks pregnant, (which I knew, through the friend). We're actually friends too, though not as close as she is to my other friend, if that makes sense.

She told me about the fact that she had a miscarriage in July, (saying, "I'm not sure if 'friend' told you") and I think she probably knows my story through said friend, which is okay. The thing is, I think she was probably trying to open the lines of communication with regard to our shared experiences. She's a great person, and I wouldn't mind talking with her about it, but I just couldn't go there today. She may be sitting there wondering why I didn't just tell her about my miscarriages, but I just can't worry about that now.

The problem is, no matter how much you like someone, retelling the story can be exhausting. Rehashing everything that's months (and even a year in some cases) in the past to someone who isn't "in it" is hard. They want to understand. They try to understand. They even think they understand and that they can be helpful. The truth is, one miscarriage and then getting pregnant again right away is not the same as multiple miscarriages. I know, because I've worn those shoes.

One miscarriage is devastating. It feels like the world is crashing down when it first happens. But. (And this is a big "but.") There is still hope. There's the knowledge that "lots of women have miscarriages." It probably won't happen again. All things seem possible.

The truth is, I hardly remember the second miscarriage. It was so quick. I never got bloodwork drawn. I just called when I was 7 weeks pregnant, and made an appointment for 8 weeks. At that appointment, I found out that the baby had died at 6 weeks. I do remember that it started to get very real after that second one. Nothing seemed rosy anymore. The hope was diminishing, and I was starting to really understand what it was like to be infertile.

I kind of feel like a jerk. I feel like I'm comparing my pain with hers. I feel like I should be "sharing" with my friend, because maybe she's scared, and maybe she needs reassurance, but I'm just feeling like I want to curl up in a ball and be selfish, and like I'm probably not the person to be reassuring anyone.


If you feel so moved, please light a candle at 7 PM and keep it burning for an hour on October 15. It is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. You can check out Cara's blog for more information and healing.

Deja Vu

I was glad to finally get my period.

I was (of course) hoping to be pregnant and not get my period at all, but the longer my more-than-two-week-wait went on without a positive pregnancy test, the more I knew the pregnancy would be doomed anyway, so I was hoping for my period to break through the progesterone.

That didn't happen this time. (It happened before, but my dosage was lower.)

This weekend, after a couple of pink streaks on the toilet paper and a (well, multiple) negative HPTs, I made the decision to stop the Progester.one, and my period finally arrived in full force two days after getting off the Pro.gesterone. It's hard to believe it's only been 5 weeks since my last period. Those extra days that were drawn out by the proges.terone felt like at least two extra weeks.

Now I'm faced with a difficult choice. I was planning to take Cl.omid this cycle, but I'm thinking I may not. My due date (if I were to get pregnant this cycle) would be the day between my son's birthday and the due date of my second miscarriage. Hard to say whether that's a good omen or a bad omen because there's so much good and so much bad associated with that time. (Really, there's much more good than bad, though.) As you can infer, I had to make this choice LAST year too - about whether I cared if my due date was close to D's birthday. The truth is, I DO care. I'd prefer to have them spaced out a little but it looks like it's definitely not my choice anymore.

The sucky thing is, I. Don't. Want. To. Wait. Those of us who are in it know, it's not "just another month." It's wasted time, and a wasted chance, and getting older, and possibly being newly pregnant and having to hide it through the holidays, and for me, putting more and more space in between my kiddos.

I haven't talked to T about it yet, but I'm thinking about not doing Clo.mid this month and seeing when I ovulate with the OPK. If I ovulate around day 14 or 15, we'll try, and if I ovulate later, maybe we'll take it as a sign and wait for next month. (In truth, I'd prefer to avoid using Clom.id at all, if my body would just cooperate and ovulate like a normal person.)

Great miscarriage news story

This is an awesome story from 2007 about miscarriage. I had no idea that Meredith Viera had four miscarriages. Did you?

Click here to watch the video.

Things unsaid

Do you ever think about things you wish you could say on your blog, but feel are too personal even for an anonymous-ish space like this?

As an homage to things unsaid, how about another round of "things I can't post as my status on Facebook." Feel free to join in on the fun!

"Lucky is scared."

"Lucky wishes there were more people in the world who "got it."

"Lucky is grateful for her blog buddies."

"Lucky wishes she could be content with just one." ("Isn't one enough?")

"Lucky would like to unfriend about half of her FB friends, but would have guilt about it, and she's not even Catholic."

Chicken soup

I'm making chicken soup for dinner. There's something so soothing about making chicken soup from scratch. Hell, I may even make some bread.

I don't really want to talk about chicken soup, though. I want to talk about TMI. What's the deal with prefacing blog posts with "TMI?" I mean, aren't we all in essence writing about pretty personal stuff? What's the big deal with saying you have a yeast infection or you have to shove progesterone up your wazoo? I mean really... When it comes right down to it, we're ALL doing strange stuff to try to get pregnant. We're checking our cervical mucous. (Really?) We're checking the toilet paper for the slightest hint of pink like I talked about in this post. (And yes, I was guilty of calling it "Major TMI.") Some of us are shooting ourselves in the ass or the stomach on a regular basis. Some of us are getting some from the dildo-cam on a regular basis. Is it really TMI, or is it the reason other people are actually reading our blogs? The way I see it, people want to read something they can relate to. They want to know that they're not in this game alone.

That's just one of those random things that I find odd.

I have some major TMI to share with y'all, but maybe another day.

For now, how about some chicken soup?