Three Strikes...I'm out

Does anyone else watch "Phineas & Ferb" on the Disney channel?  It is our favorite cartoon in this house and I think we've seen every episode.  The other day, there was an episode where an embarrassing video of the evil Dr. Doofenschmirtz was circulating on the internet.  So, he built a device that would remove whatever he wanted from every computer in the Tri-State area, as well as erase it from everyone's memory.  The Erasonator, I believe he called it.  I sure could use one of those right now to erase my stupid Facebook post and the 36 wonderful comments that followed.

Yesterday, I got results from the blood that was taken last Thursday at my PCP's office.  They didn't run an HCG test, but my progesterone level was 11.8, very low.  This didn't tell us any more than we already knew.  I was still hoping that we were looking at a very early pregnancy.  I woke up this morning, eagerly awaiting results from Tuesday's blood tests that should be in today.  And...found that I was bleeding.  Not spotting...bleeding.  

I called my doctor's office and the results weren't back yet.  The doctor said that, "The darn lab forgot to run the HCG test," but that they had ordered it this morning and should have results back in an hour.   If it only takes an hour to run the test, why does it take 48 hours to get the frickin' results back?  ANYway...

The nurse called a couple of hours ago and they found that my HCG level was 6, which she said shows that I had a "chemical pregnancy."  This means, she said, that the egg was fertilized, but didn't implant.  Chemical pregnancy is the term they use for a miscarriage that occurs before the fifth week of gestation, before a sac can be seen on an ultrasound.  

The doc said that since I have now had three miscarriages, she still wants me to see a perinatologist to see if they can find the cause.  

Frankly, Roy and I are tired of all this.  The past few days have reminded us why we haven't tried since the last incident.  It has been HELL.  The waiting sucks.  Life has to go on like nothing has happened, while we are sitting around wondering what the fuck is going on.  Are we pregnant, or aren't we?  I've been emotional and moody and taken it out on my poor little family.

It kills me that when I take my daughter to the playground, she looks around desperately for another kid to play with.  When they leave, she whines, "Now who is going to play with me?"  She refers to her friend Lydia as her sister, and her friend Ethan as her brother (although sometimes they get married).  It hurts to see her fawning over babies and knowing how badly she wants one in our house.  I hate to think about her lonely middle school years when she will wish there was another kid in the next room that she could whisper to at night.  I want her to have the built-in playdate and confidant that I had growing up.  I want her to have a best friend that shares the same blood on speed dial when she is grown up, so that she can tell them everything that she can't tell her mother.  I want them to be able to talk about me behind my back and plan Mother's Day surprises for me.  I don't want to cling to her so much that I suffocate her because I don't have two children to spread the love around to, because I am totally the mom that would do that.  I don't want to burden her solely with our care when we are old and decrepit.  Roy swears that being an only child was fine with him, but I know how much I love having a sister and I just wanted that for my kid, too.

Roy says he's done.  I want to be done, but it feels a little selfish to just give up.  I hate my life being in limbo.  I wanted to decorate a nursery.  Now, I feel like turning that room into a huge, kick-ass closet for my purses.  We'll just go on with our life, spoil our daughter, grow our photography business and never think about another kid again.  I'm half-tempted to have a hysterectomy.   

The doctor's nurse just called to say that the doc wants me to have another HCG test in a week.  I said, "Why?"  

She paused and said, "Well, to make sure it goes back down to zero."  

I said, "What's the point?  I'm not going to be trying again anytime soon, so I'd rather not be a pin cushion if I don't have to."  

She stammered and she said she'd ask the doctor and call me back.  Roy laughed.

Roy has a whole stand-up routine that he's going through now called "Mitigating the Unhappy Times with Crude Humor".  He joked that the publishers of "What To Expect When You're Expecting" should sell the book in trimesters because then we would only the need the first part.   He's going to write a book called "What To Expect When You're Expecting...To Not Be Expecting" (copyright 2009).  He also says he is going to hop the fence and kick the neighbor's dog.  

I'm having cramps and back pain, but I need to go buy myself something pretty or maybe something that barks or purrs.   "Anna, Here's a puppy since we can't give you a sibling.  At least it won't steal your boyfriend."  Also, I want to use the word FUCK....a lot.

I'm blue (da ba dee)

Today is May 11. Da da dum. I've been thinking about this day for a long time, but this past week, I thought of it a lot. Yesterday was kind of hard. I wanted to be happy about Mother's Day, but I kept remembering that I was supposed to be a mother of two.

I knew today would be rough, but I had decided that Anna and I would keep busy. We were going to go to the library, make cookies and paint pictures. She decided it was a pig-tail day, so we both busted some out. Then, she decided that she wanted to play with her animals and didn't want to go to the library. I don't have the strength to force her today, so I thought I'd sit down and wait her out. She loves the library, so I knew she'd come around.

Opened my computer to check Facebook and oh, hi, look at someone's 3D sonogram pics. And, that is all it took to derail me. All this after I said last week that I was "better now" and I "wouldn't break down" if the subject came up and people shouldn't feel bad about mentioning their babies to me. I guess I'm a big, fat liar, liar, pants on fire.

I have some pretty strange dreams. Last night's is easy enough to decipher. We were living in a small house by the ocean. My mom and grandma were there, as well as my friend Julie and her husband, Byron. We were watching a TV movie about Nancy Grace (who was a brunette) which was fascinating. I was holding Anna and the moms were watching our 5 month-old daughter (random), who we kept calling "Susie" (after my sister), even though that wasn't her name. All of a sudden my mom runs into the room and says that Susie just said her first words. I picked her up and she looked at me and said, "Where's Daddy?" I was so elated that I ran the girls out to the beach, where Roy (the fisherman) was returning with the other men with the day's catch. I told him the good news and we all embraced as a perfect, shining family. There are a lot of gaffes in this dream, the least of which being that babies don't speak two-word questions at 5 months, but dreams are silly that way.


Last week, we found out that there was yet another recall on the brand of crib we had purchased. I swear, if we found out that the stupid box sitting untouched in our garage was recalled, we were just going to call it a draw. I will NOT be walking back into Babies R Us until I need to buy something for a real baby with a real due date. No more trips for hypothetical babies. It turned out that our new crib was fine, but the lesson here is, DO NOT buy Jardine cribs from BRU. 60% of the time, they get recalled every time.


Some day I'll get over myself and remember that there are far worse things than losing a baby or babies that I didn't know, but today, I'm just feeling sorry for myself. What stings the most is that no one else around me would remember this date. Just me. Not even my husband. I don't blame him. I would have put this out of my mind if I could. I put the two sonogram pictures in the top of the closet along with the "What to Expect" and "1000 Baby Names" books. I haven't looked at them since October, but today might be the day I decide to face those demons. Maybe tomorrow will be the magic day that I wake up and move on. At the very least, you should all demand a sunnier post...or your money back.

I am SAHM, SAHM I am

This was my fourth week as a "part-time stay at home mom," meaning that Anna is now staying home with me three days a week. This is a big switch from going to school every day. She still goes to preschool two days a week, but that leaves ME in charge of her nutrition and education for three days. ME. The weekends don't count because we just play around. I knew she was getting a good education and nutritious meals five days a week, so we could be more relaxed on the weekends. Now, I'm responsible for making sure she eats veggies and learns to read. YIKES.

Ever since I became pregnant, my dream has been to stay at home with Anna. I was able to work part-time her first year, so I got to spend every afternoon with her and it was fabulous. But, she was a baby then and easy to entertain and easy to feed.

SAHM. The abbreviation is kind of annoying. Heather has her own version. The most fitting one that I could come up with for myself was: Slightly Anal Hell Monster. Roy would argue that "slightly" is not accurate.

Anna's preschool teachers would definitely be able to comment on my new nickname for myself. They have felt alot of my wrath lately as we've had many "incidents" that they needed to address. That is a whole other issue that I can't go into right now, but I'm sure they call me much worse behind my back. But honestly, she only goes two days a week now! You would think they could manage to follow regulations and keep her safe for TWO DAYS!!

ANYway, I'm proud to say that we've been doing pretty good here though. Anna is certainly enjoying more time at home. The first day she was here, I quizzed her on her letter recognition and we've been working on the ones she had trouble with. We do a letter per week and work on recognizing it, drawing it, and associating a sound with it, as well as words that begin with that letter. It really is fun to see her pick out letters she sees now and to know that I taught her that.

She loves the library, the mall and the park, but we've also had a ton of fun playing dress up and dancing around the house. She does a great job of alternating music with me so that we aren't listening to "Bop Bop Dinosaur" all day. She can sing the "Mamma Mia" soundtrack almost as well as I can. Some days are easier than others, of course. There were a couple of times that we actually yelled at each other, but I know we're closer than ever. She tells me everyday that I'm "her best friend," so I take that as a good sign.

Yesterday was a very good day. We made chocolate chip muffins for breakfast. Then, we decorated Mother's Day cards for grandmas. She practiced writing some letters and was very proud of herself. We got out my beads that have been gathering dust in the closet since her birth and made a bracelet. She picked out all the beads and loved the result so much that she wore it to school and showed it to everyone.

This whole experience is weird for me because I feel like I am in limbo. I don't really consider myself a stay-at-home mom because I intend to get a job and am actively looking for one. However, no one wants me, so it could be awhile. I would like to be a full-time writer and photographer, but while I attempt to refine my skills in both on a daily basis, I feel like I'm not getting very far because I have to split my time between so many things. Marketing yourself online really requires a LOT of time. And then there's housework. Ugh. I just can't keep up with everything, so that suffers the most.

All of this plus the drama that I don't write about and the fact that next week would have been my due date makes me a very blue girl sometimes. So...I talked to my doctor and upped my medication yesterday. I hope this gets me over the hump. I really meant for this to be an upbeat post...kind of screwed that one up.

She said the M word

I know I've been neglecting you all lately. Sorry about that. I still need to fill you in on what's been happening over here, but instead, let me use today to address something that several people have mentioned lately. Deep breath.....



Okay...in case you didn't know...I had two miscarriages last year. I have a separate blog that I started back then that I didn't share with anyone. I linked it here, but don't visit unless you are seriously prepared to hear to the gory details. Also, it is VERY personal, as personal as personal gets. I can't even believe some of the things that I shared on there, so A) don't be offended, B) don't be a jerk. My husband "knows some people who know some people who robbed some people." So, don't mess with me.

Another round of friend pregnancies. They seem to come in waves. Friends: please know that I AM happy for you. I am also a tad jealous, but that does not mean that I hate you, nor does it mean that you can not talk about your baby in my presence. A few months ago, that would have been the case, but I'm better now, really. :)

It is pretty crazy to think that if we hadn't suffered the first miscarriage, we would have a newborn baby in our house now. That is really hard for me to imagine.

I'm struggling a little with the future of Shareapy. At first, it was just for me, then it was also for strangers who needed to know they weren't alone. That part of my life was something I didn't talk about except in the company of close friends and family, but why? Because I didn't want to make people uncomfortable. No one wants to hear about my dead babies. AWKward....

It is very strange to think that someone who hasn't had a miscarriage and doesn't even know me might read that site. It feels like that dream I have where I forget that I haven't shaved my legs in months, but I go walking around in shorts and everyone is laughing at me, but I don't realize it until I've been out for hours.



We are such a voyeuristic society that we like to watch other people's pain up close. Does it make us feel more human to connect to someone's misery? Or does it make us feel better about our own lives? Either way, I engage in it, too. It is the reason I watch reality TV and read other people's blogs. It is just very surreal for me to be on the other side of the looking glass. I've given everyone in school the key to my diary...why would I do that?! I guess I just want everyone to have some insight. Maybe if we talk about miscarriages more openly, the women who experience them won't have to live dual lives--smiling and laughing while they die inside. And,
I think it will be a relief that I can talk how this still affects me now.


Here's the deal...the secret is out now. I had two miscarriages. It is a part of who I am. It doesn't mean that I want to bring it up in everyday conversation, but I'm not so fragile anymore that I will burst into tears if it does come up.

I'm not going to go into detail, but let me just clear up one thing right now: Miscarriages are a big deal. A HUGE, GIANT, ELEPHANT-SIZED deal. It feels like you lost everything. That might not make sense to someone who has never experienced it, but just take my word for it. I remember what went through my head before I had one. It was something like, "Oh, that sucks. But, they can try again." Oh, dear Lord. Just imagine...every single day, this person will wake up and remember that they were supposed to be pregnant today. Every day takes them closer to a due date that won't come. It is a DAILY struggle.

If you know someone who's had a miscarriage, you are probably wondering what to say to them. Feel free to email me and I can give you some pointers.

What I found especially difficult is that there weren't a lot of resources immediately available to help me. I didn't know what to expect physically or emotionally. I had to do a lot of research on my own, which just made me feel even more alone. Hopefully, other doctors provide more support than mine did.

With a miscarriage, there is no one else to feel your pain, except your spouse. While your husband is equally devastated, even he didn't have the physical connection to the baby that you did. The memories are all in your head. They are just visions you created of the love you'd share with your future child. No one can share in your pain because they didn't know your child.

Anyway, my whole point is that I think I will keep Shareapy a separate site because the ladies that need support right now don't want to hear about the necklace I bought last week or some hilarious website or Anna's latest revelation. When they get to a place that they can laugh and smile again, they are welcome with open arms over here at CFB. Meanwhile, all my lovely CFB readers may, once in awhile, hear about how I'm feeling in regard to my miscarriages, because that is as much a part of me as the fact that I can't go two days without gushing over Twilight. Twilight, Twilight, Twilight! I love Twilight!