Pregnancy dreams. Vivid pregnancy dreams of things that make sense and things that seem absolutely pointless. I’m only 4 weeks pregnant and I am having dreams about Covid, having another D & C, eating all the doughnut holes in the kitchen, spaghetti and other yummy food, chasing ducks through a thunderstorm and watching kitties play in mud puddles.
I get it. Vivid pregnancy dreams are often the cause of pregnancy hormones. If that’s the case then I’ll take them. Even though I’m starting to get morning sickness and even though my breasts hurt and I’m extremely tired; I am happy and so incredibly blessed.
The morning I found out I was pregnant again for a third time, I went about my day as normally as possible. I went to work and taught preschoolers. On my lunch break, I came home and showed Charles the pregnancy test and he was happy but not surprised.
In the middle of the day at work, I went to the bathroom. I was happy to step out of my classroom and get off my feet for a moment. However, when I went to the bathroom I was surprised to see a little bit of spotting. Oh no…. not again. I instantly started to panic and thought I was having another miscarriage. I prayed that what ever would happen would be the Lord’s will. I was scared but I just had to trust and stay calm.
About an hour later, I went to the bathroom and saw no blood. I was relieved and filled with peace. I went about my day staying calm and trying to relax.
The next day while Charles and I were on a drive running some errands, I had to stop at the store to use the bathroom. While there I was surprised to see yet again a tiny bit of spotting. This time, I didn’t panic. I felt like what I was seeing was normal. With my miscarriage in the past when I was bleeding, the bleeding didn’t subside. It just got heavier and heavier until I lost my pregnancy. Whereas, the bleeding I was seeing now was still very light, and only happened once or twice.
Based on my symptoms, I am assuming that what I was experiencing was implantation bleeding. Implantation bleeding sometimes occurs when the egg implants into the wall of the uterus. It usually occurs around the time you start your period, so women sometimes mistake implantation bleeding as a period. Only a certain percentage of women have this, and is completely normal.
As I reflect back on my previous pregnancies, I don’t remember having any implantation bleeding with Mackenzie. With Chase, I remember having a very tiny bit before the pregnancy test turned positive.
Based on the research and what I know, I was not going to fret. The bleeding stopped, and I felt fine. So I was just going to trust that everything was okay.
My second pregnancy was different than my first. For my pregnancy with Mackenzie, I was in shock for days and not at all prepared. For my pregnancy with Chase, I was very prepared for the first trimester as I knew what pregnancy symptoms to expect. At 6 weeks I was already feeling nauseated, tired, hungry and hormonal.
THOUGH THESE EARLY PREGNANCY SYMPTOMSWEREN’T EXACTLY FUN, THEY GAVE ME COMFORT KNOWING MY BABY WAS DOING OKAY, AND MY PREGNANCY WAS ON TRACK.
For this pregnancy, I had my mind made up that I definitely didn’t want too many people to know. I didn’t come to this decision lightly. The reason I didn’t want to share about our pregnancy isn’t because we didn’t want people’s love and support; more less, we just wanted to keep it under wraps until I was further along. I don’t in any way regret telling people I was pregnant before my first miscarriage….. but I have learned a lot since then. I have learned that people will look at you differently when you go through a traumatic event. I also learned that though people may have good intentions… they can say some really hurtful things on the topic of miscarriage. Due to all of this, Charles and I decided to keep things a secret until we were ready to handle other people’s opinions.
At this stage in my pregnancy, I had so much peace. I had peace knowing and believing my baby was going to be okay. All the statistics and stories I had read, told me I was more likely to have a healthy pregnancy than a repeat miscarriage. My HCG and thyroid levels were great for a healthy pregnancy. I was ten times stronger than I was before experiencing a loss. Lastly, my faith, my education, my relationships and my job were all in a good place. Things were starting to go right for once.
At 7 weeks pregnant… I started to feel better. My nausea started to subside, and food was starting to appeal to me again. I think that since I had already experienced a loss, this symptom made me really nervous and anxious. I feared that I was losing my pregnancy symptoms and I was going to lose another pregnancy. However, I also wondered if it was just my nerves talking and this pregnancy was different than the first.
Around 6 weeks and 6 days I started to experience a really weird symptom. It was an aching pain deep near my cervix. It kind of felt like a menstrual cramp, but also just felt sore. I started to get concerned about this symptom as I had never experienced it during pregnancy before. I asked a friend and even a nurse at my OB clinic. They all said it sounded pretty normal. I also Googled the symptom, which probably wasn’t a good idea. The only term I could find was lightning pain. This is a term used when a woman experiences pain at the start of labor. I figured that probably wasn’t what I had and just decided to trust that everything was okay.
At 7 weeks exactly, I had my first OB appointment. I ended up going to the appointment by myself since Charles had class. It was just like last time as I had to sit with a nurse and talk about my medical history. I also met with the community health worker. In this meeting I felt compelled to share with her about my previous loss and how I was treated. I expressed to her how I was given promotional offers, samples and other reminders from various places. I shared how hurt I felt that I wasn’t given any resources until 3 months later. I expressed how I wasn’t treated kindly by my doctors. Lastly, I shared the struggle in the waiting room and how it can be hard on any woman of loss to have to sit among other pregnant moms.
THE COMMUNITY HEALTH WORKER WAS SO KIND AND SUPPORTIVE. SHE LISTENED INTENTLY AND ALLOWED ME TO FEEL HEARD.
Saturday September 28th, was supposed to be a very relaxing day. I didn’t have any plans that day except for studying and relaxing at home. I spent the morning in my pjs, drinking decaf coffee and catching up on some reading. Charles headed to our university’s football game and hung out with friends. I felt completely fine, except some cramping around my pelvis and cervix. However, I was convinced that this cramping was completely normal in early pregnancy.
Around 1:30pm I made myself some cheesy potatoes for lunch. I then went to the bathroom for probably the tenth time that day. When I went to the bathroom, I felt completely normal and pregnant. When I went to wipe though, I froze. Blood. There was blood. I was bleeding. I was spotting. Oh no! I instantly started to panic. It wasn’t a lot of blood, and if I were to describe it…. it was like the color of pink lemonade. Regardless, it was enough blood to scare me.
WHY WAS I BLEEDING? THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING! NOT AGAIN! I CAN’T HANDLE THIS! I CAN’T HANDLE ANOTHER LOSS! I FRANTICALLY STARTED PRAYING. GOD PLEASE, PLEASE KEEP BABY CHASE SAFE! I DON’T WANT TO LOSE HIM!
I immediately called Charles. Once I started crying, I couldn’t stop. I told Charles what was going on and he immediately headed home. While I waited for Charles I called my friend Andrea. She prayed over Chase and I. I also called the midwife on call. I explained to her how I was feeling, and what I was seeing. The midwife explained that unfortunately it did sound like another miscarriage, but I could always go the hospital to get checked out if I wanted to. When Charles got home he hugged me, and reassured me things were going to be okay. Then we headed to the hospital.
Going to the ER on a Saturday afternoon, I knew there would be a wait. However, I didn’t anticipate a full hour wait. When we were finally called back, I was able to relax and rest in bed. My cramps were still mild and the bleeding hadn’t gotten any worse. I was thankful for that. I explained to every nurse and doctor I saw my symptoms and medical history. I had a variety of tests done including CBC blood work, urine test, pelvic exam and three ultrasounds.
One nurse that particularly stood out to me was Doug. He was the best male nurse I have ever had. He went above and beyond to take care of me, my baby and my husband. He was funny and very willing to answer my questions. He also disclosed to us that his wife has had three miscarriages, and currently has two sons at home, and an infant in the NICU of the hospital. One thing Doug said that truly stood out to me, was this: At this point we don’t know if you are going to have a miscarriage or have a healthy pregnancy. But just try to take care of yourself and rest. Know that you have done nothing wrong. Sometimes it’s just not meant to be at this time….
DON’T BE SCARED, BECAUSE YOUR BODY KNOWS WHAT TO DO, AND IT IS GOING TO DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE. SO, TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND BE THERE FOR ONE ANOTHER BECAUSETHIS AFFECTS BOTH OF YOU.
Based on all my tests, everything was completely normal. My blood work showed that my HCG was in the 2000s which was higher than I ever had with my first pregnancy. My hemoglobin, and thyroid levels also looked great. My urine was fine and no UTI. My pelvic exam was normal besides some uterine bleeding. Lastly, my ultrasounds all came back fine. The reason I had three ultrasounds is because the doctors had a hard time finding the fetus. The ER doctor first used an ultrasound machine beside, which apparently has a difficult time picking up a fetus smaller than 12 weeks. I was then sent to an ultrasound room where I had another test done over my belly. The tech also had a hard time finding the fetus, so I had to have an inner-vaginal ultrasound. During this test, the tech and Charles were able to see the baby. Baby was only measuring at 5 weeks and 2 days… which was strange since I was supposed to be two weeks further in my pregnancy. However, the doctors said it was a possibility I had ovulated late. Besides that, baby was still attached to the uterus and everything seemed normal.
That night around 6:30pm we were sent home. I called and texted family and friends to let them know what was going on. When we got home, I forced myself to rest and take it easy. Shortly after arriving home, I had to go to the bathroom again. Though I was hoping the bleeding had stopped, I was still anxious by what I saw. I was still bleeding and it was getting brighter and thicker. Even though I was cleared to go home, I still feared I was going to lose this baby. Charles took the evening to hold me, and reassure me that it was going to be okay. That night when I went to sleep I had peace and faith I was going to wake up in the morning, with no bleeding and feeling so much better. I was convinced my baby and I would be fine, until I woke up at 12am the next morning……
At 12am on Sunday September 29th, I was startled awake. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. I had just gotten home from the ER a few hours prior. I was advised by my doctors and nurses to get some rest. I had only been asleep for a few hours when I woke up at midnight. I was confused. My heart was racing. I was sweating and I felt really uncomfortable. It’s just anxiety. Calm down. Relax. Baby is okay. I tried talking myself down from my minor panic attack.
I NUDGED CHARLES AWAKE. HE HELD MY HAND AND WE BOTH FELL BACK ASLEEP.
I woke up again around 2:15am. I woke up sweaty and gross and had to go to the bathroom. I was scared to see I was still spotting and it was getting worse. I was now seeing bright red blood instead of light pink. In wasn’t a lot of blood, but it was getting darker. I prayed, prayed, prayed then fell back asleep.
I woke up at 4am in pain. Cramps radiated from my groin throughout my back. I couldn’t get comfortable. I held my belly, then curled up in a ball. It wasn’t taking the pain away. I got out of bed and tried stretching my legs and my back. I was so confused. What was going on? Why was I in so much pain? After a few minutes of stretching the pain died down. I laid back down. Fifteen minutes later it happen again. Sheering pain was radiating through my core. I tried stretching, pacing and slowly breathing, at that moment it dawned on me. Oh my gosh… I know what this is. Cramps that are painful that radiate throughout my back. Uncomfortable positions. Pain every few minutes. This pain wasn’t just cramps, these were labor pains. I was in labor and I was going to lose this baby.
When this realization hit me, I wanted to throw up. Part of it was the pain, and part of it was my mind and emotions trying to catch up with what my body already knew. I had cramps every fifteen minutes, then every ten minutes, then every five. I paced through my apartment, tried laying in bed and tried sitting on the toilet. Nothing helped with the pain. Around 5:15am, I found myself laying on my bathroom floor sobbing.
I FELT SCARED AND ALONE. I CONSIDERED WAKING UP CHARLES, BUT I DIDN’T. I DIDN’T WANT HIM TO BE SCARED.
At 5:36am I cried out to God. I pleaded with God to help me. I knew my baby was already gone, and my body had a job to do. I knew this was completely out of my control. I knew the end was coming, but I couldn’t bare to think about it. I asked God that if this was it, if I was truly going to lose my baby, then could He just please make it quick. Ten minutes later at 5:46am, I felt my baby leave my body. I felt blood pour out of me and I felt my heart shatter yet again as I said I’m so sorry to my baby, and left the bathroom.
I went into my room and woke up Charles. I sobbed and told him what happen. He was confused and saddened. He held me and we cried together. That was it, it was done. My second pregnancy and my Rainbow Baby Chase were gone.
The next morning we woke up and tried to wrap our minds around what had happen. I took it easy that day, since my body was truly drained. I reached out to family and friends and let them know what had happen. They sent their love and condolences. I couldn’t believe it. We lost another baby. Why? That afternoon, Alli and Andrea sent us some flowers that read: In Loving Memory of Baby Chase. Reading this made me cry, and after that I didn’t cry for awhile. I didn’t feel like I should.
I wrote this post a year ago, and even though some time has passed since I wrote it, I still feel it is even more relevant today. ❤️
It’s Mother’s Day. This is the day we celebrate all the mothers. We celebrate the women In our lives who have raised us, nurtured us and taught us how to be good people in our society. We celebrate the women who showed us unconditional love from the very beginning. This day is meant to be a celebration, but to many… it is a somber holiday.
Being a mother is a very special role. It is one of, if not the hardest jobs there is. That being said not all mothers are the same. When you think of a mother you likely will think of biological moms, step moms, foster moms, moms who have adopted and grandmothers. But what about the other moms in this world? What about the women who hold a mothering role in a child’s life, such as an aunt, cousin, friend, teacher, or mentor. What about the moms who have lost a child, whether it was a pregnancy loss, neonatal loss or loss of a child at an older age?
ALL OF THESE WOMEN ARE JUST AS MUCH MOTHERS, AND HOLD A SPECIAL PLACE IN OUR SOCIETY AND IN A CHILD’S LIFE.
And let’s not forget all the women who want to be mothers. These women may struggle with infertility, illness, are choosing not to have children at this time in their life or suffer from recurrent miscarriages. These women are as much mothers to our society and to children in our world, just in a different way.
This mother’s day is also different as the Covid-19 pandemic has prevented some children from seeing and celebrating their mother’s today. It almost seems as if there is a grief in the air just from the pandemic. I feel that in it self has made this holiday especially somber this year.
Even though this is a holiday to celebrate all the mothers, it is sometimes a somber holiday for those who have lost a child, who are unable to have children, or who have lost their mothers. If you are reading this, and you have lost your mother, lost a child or are unable to have children, I just want to say… I am so sorry for your loss. I’m sorry this holiday brings up emotions of grief, guilt, anger, sadness, anxiety and dread. I’m sorry for the atmosphere of loneliness you feel on this holiday. I want to remind you though that you are not alone. Yes, your experience is yours, but their are so many of us who too have experienced that loss.
THERE ARE SO MANY OF US WHO HAVE FELT THE PAIN THAT CAN BE EXPERIENCED IN THIS LIFE, EVEN THOUGH WE DON’T TALK ABOUT IT.
So today, not only are we celebrating all the traditional mother’s out there, but we are remembering the mothers who have faced loss and heartache as well. I can tell you first hand, this day is not easy, but when the grief and loneliness become too much, remember to take care of you. Don’t have high expectations on yourself. Give yourself grace and love. Order food in, eat some chocolate, take a bubble bath, binge watch a comedy series, or stay in your PJs. Happy or not this day is about you and the love you’ve shared.
Today I will be taking it easy and remembering my babies I’ve lost because even though it hurts, they made me a mom. When the grief gets to be too much today, I will remember that I am not any less a mom because my babies are in Heaven.
I will end with this. It’s Mother’s Day, happy or not this is the day we celebrate and remember all mothers and to all the women who share that role. Thank you for all that you do and love that you’ve shared. I will be thinking of you today.
This post was written a year ago, and though a year has passed, I still believe it holds some truth today.
It’s okay to not be okay… and today I am not okay. A year ago today I was happy. I went to a doctor appointment that I thought would leave me joyous and thankful. Instead, it left me with every emotion imaginable, and this is when my grief first began. I was 11 weeks pregnant. I was supposed have an ultrasound and hear my baby’s heartbeat for the very first time. Instead I heard the words “I’m so sorry, we can’t find a heartbeat.” Instead of feeling joyous, I left feeling empty and broken.
My life changed that day. I became an angel mommy. I had to learn how to let go of a child that I fell in love with but didn’t get to meet. I learned who my true friends and family were. I learned how incredibly common pregnancy loss is, even though no one talks about it. I learned that there are good people in the healthcare system who go above and beyond for their patients. I also learned how the healthcare system let’s so many women like me down. I learned how to grieve, how to live, and how to be happy again. It wasn’t easy, and trust me… I’m still working on it.
Grief is a burden that we all have to deal with in this life. There is no telling how or when you’ll go through it. But we grieve because we love. It hurts because we don’t want to say goodbye. It’s confusing because we don’t know how to handle it until it happens. But more often than not grief brings people together. Whether it’s losing a parent, losing a sibling, losing a friend, losing a child, losing a neighbor, a coworker or even someone well known… it hurts, and it unifies us.
So today I am not okay. I am giving myself permission to grieve my baby. I’m not going to feel guilty for not being my best today. I’m going breathe, rest and remember what I had before I had to say goodbye, and that’s okay.
I love you Mackenzie! Daddy and I miss you so much. 💕
A few weeks went by, and Charles and I began talking and getting to know each other in class and through text. I tried very hard not to get my hopes up or read into anything. As a very reserved, previously homeschooled girl, I had never had this kind of friendship with a guy before. Because of this I was constantly questioning, what does this mean? Is Charles interested in me as more of a friend, or does he just want to be friends?
I was secretly asking myself these questions daily. As much as I wanted to be pursued I tried to stay grounded and enjoy this season of friendship and what ever it lead to. I was quite content in this thinking for awhile, until Charles would say things that would throw me off. For example, he would casually mention how we should hang out sometime outside of school. Or our professor would say something about food, and Charles would say that we should go together sometime. Because he said these things so often, I was under the impression it was his way of asking me out. But I also doubted myself, and thought I was just reading too much into it.
When ever Charles would mention, hanging out and going out to eat together, I never really answered him. I wasn’t answering him to be mean, I just didn’t know if he was serious or what we were to each other. At the time we really hadn’t had a define the relationship talk. All I knew is that, I was really starting to like Charles, maybe even more than a friend.
One Thursday morning in October, I headed to my Spanish class. I got to the door when I noticed a note saying our class was cancelled. I was super excited to not have class, and have extra time to work on some homework. I started to text Charles to let him know class was cancelled, when I saw him making his way down the stairs. He was walking and talking with another female classmate.
I’m not going lie. When I saw him, I was crushed. I told myself I got my hopes up for nothing. He’s just a friendly guy. He probably just wants to be friends. He’s not interested in me in the way I was hoping.
The three of us looked at the note. Charles was mad our professor didn’t email us, and he came to school for nothing. Our other classmate decided to go home, and it was just Charles and I standing in the hallway.
Despite the fact that I was questioning our friendship, I still really wanted to spend time with Charles. Charles said he had nothing to do for three hours until his next class. I had work in two hours. I knew it would be a wise decision to go find a quiet spot in the library and catch up on some homework. But, my gut and my heart told me to ask Charles to hang out. I almost didn’t say anything. But I knew the worst he could say was no, so I gave it a shot.
“I have a couple hours before I have to go to work, do you want to hang out in the student center?” My voice was shaky, but I was trying so hard to be brave.
“Okay” Charles said smiling. We then headed to the student center. I was dangerously smitten, still not sure what to think.
The intention was to sit in the student center, grab a bite to eat, have some light convesation and do some homework. That did not happen. Charles and I sat for two hours talking. I forgot to eat and we never pulled out our homework. We talked about everything from school, to our faith, to childhood, to family, to friends, to food. Charles again mentioned that we should go out to eat sometime. I pondered his question for a moment. Since I was already feeling brave, I decided to give him an answer.
“Okay, we can go out. When would you like to do it?”
Charles seemed surprised that I actually said yes. It must have thrown him because he didn’t say anything for a minute. After a long pause he finally said,
“Sorry, I’ve never done this before.” He then seemed to get nervous and not sure what to do next. “Well, you said you’ve never tried indian food before, and there’s a new Indian restaurant that just opened. Would you like to go there?”
I told him yes. It then became kind of awkward as we ironed out the details. We discussed how this is considered a date for the both of us. Charles mentioned that he wanted to do it after he would get paid that Friday, and we determined a date and time.
Our first date was planned for Saturday October 10th at 6pm. This only gave us both two days to prepare. I was so excited but so incredibly nervous.
On Saturday morning, I did some studying and went out to brunch with my momma. We had a very enjoyable meal talking about boys, dating and just growing up. I was super thankful to have this time with my mom before my very first date.
Around 4pm I started to get anxious, and had no idea what to wear. I settled on wearing dress pants, a nice shirt and my favorite jean jacket. I also spruced up my outfit with a little bit of perfume and some jewelry.
After scheduling our date, I made arrangements with my best friends Andrea and Alli to also come to the restaurant we were going to eat at. I did this because 1) I still didn’t know Charles all that well and I wanted to make sure I had a way to leave the date if things went south. 2) I was extremely nervous, and felt it would help me knowing somebody I knew was nearby and 3) this was a first for me and I needed the support and a little gentle push from my friends.
Around 5:30, my mom drove me to the Indian restaurant where I was planning to meet Charles. On the way to the restaurant I continued blabbering on to my mom about how nervous I was. When we turned on to the street where the restaurant was I began I get huge butterflies. This is stupid. This is so stupid. Why am I doing this? Just when I was deep in my thoughts about this whole thing, my mom said…
“Oh look, I see your friend!?” And just like that sheer panick came over me. I freaked out and yelled to my mom.
“Ah, mom I’m not ready for this! Drive!” I startled her with my response, and she continued driving trying to calm me down. As we continued driving we passed Charles walking to the restaurant. I asked my mom to circle the block a few times, as I still needed a few minutes. She tried her best not to laugh at my ridiculousness and kept driving.
About a minute later I received a text from Alli, asking why we passed the restaurant. I then realized that when my mom said she saw my friend she was referring to Alli and not Charles. I was obviously not thinking clearly as I realized my mom hadn’t even met Charles yet, so she didn’t know what he looked like.
I took a few minutes in the car to calm down, and let my mom pull into the parking lot of the restaurant. I greeted Alli at the front door, and she had a huge grin on her face. She asked me what happen and I told her the whole story. She laughed and told me everything was going to be fine, I then as politely as I could told Alli to go inside since Charles was coming. She looked at me confused.
“No, I’m going in with you.” I looked at her dumb founded.
“No you’re not, Alli he’s doesn’t know you’re coming.” At the time I was so nervous I didn’t realize how rude I probably sounded. My best friend took time out of her day to do this for me and I was acting like a brat. Alli, if you’re reading this, I’m so sorry I was so rude that night and made you sit at a booth by yourself. I love you and I’m also sorry if I never apologized until now for that. 😭
Eventually, Alli went inside and sat at a table. Charles met me at the front door of the restaurant. He greeted me, told me I looked beautiful and held the door open for me. We made our way inside, and were seated at a table right away. Charles and I sat at a booth in some awkward silence. We nervously smiled at each other then buried ourselves into our menus.
After we ordered our food, I had nothing to hid behind, so we were forced to talk. Once we got over the initial awkwardness of this being a date, we started to have fun. We talked about the usual things, faith, school, family, and future plans. We both had some very yummy curry and both were creeped out by our waiter.
By 8 o’clock we were both full and tired. Alli was getting ready to leave as things were coming to an end, and my mom was almost at the restaurant. I offered Charles a ride home and a chance to meet my mom. He agreed and we both walked out to the car. Charles was friendly and polite to my mom. He thanked her for letting him take me out and said he appreciated the ride. When we got to his house he said goodbye to my mom and said goodbye to me. Everything was adorably perfect…. until he went to close the door.
He said: “Goodbye Ma’am, goodbye Kylie.” And shut the door, I felt embarrassment for him. Kylie? Did he forget my name?
Once I got home, I couldn’t sleep. I stayed up late talking to my mom all about our date. It was nice to have her perspective and I was thankful she was able to meet him. She said he was very nice, very educated and she could tell he really liked me and I really liked him. We both laughed at the fact that he called me Kylie. I was really hoping we just didn’t hear him right.
Around 12am, when I was getting ready for bed, I received a text from Charles. He said he had a really nice time, and he hoped I did too. He texted GoodNight Kaylee, and again I had butterflies.
I have tossed around the idea of posting this photo. I have contemplated if I should even write a blog post about this particular topic as it is so incredibly personal. I have weighed the pros and cons of this post and decided on this. On my blog I have always been real and raw when it comes to my life, my challenges and my grief. Over the last twoish years I have shared the details of my grief and miscarriages because it not only helped me heal and process the trauma of that season in my life, but I knew one day my story could help someone else. Therefore, if I share my stories of pregnancy loss, then I can also share my challenges of trying to concieve and start a family.
Last May around Mother’s Day, Charles and I decided we again wanted to try and start a family. It had been 8 months since our second miscarriage and though I don’t think we can ever fully heal from a loss such as this, we both have gained a lot of growth, wisdom and strength from suffering two losses. So in May we decided to start trying again.
When deciding to try again, we discussed how we did not want to obsess over trying to get pregnant. Rather we were just going to allow what ever happen to happen. I wasn’t going to track my temp or track my ovulation. We decided we were going to try and live our lives and allow God to move when He sees fit.
In September, after 4 months of trying and no luck, Charles and I looked into adoption. The desire to become parents in the last few years has grown so strong, and we both love the idea of conceiving our own healthy baby, or adopting a child. Since September we have continued to research the option of adoption and have found there are a few steps we would need to complete before going any further. So in some ways we are at a stand still.
This past month we reached 6 months of trying. And I was convinced that I was pregnant. I was super hungry, tired, had a cold, emotional, my boobs hurt, my hips hurt, I had some cramping that was different than my normal period cramping, headaches and I was three days late. I hoped and prayed that I was pregnant as it would have been a sweet ending to a crazy year. But that wasn’t the case. Another negative yet again.
The day I took the test I was down, defeated and devastated. But as I write this over a week later, I realize that it was for the best. I don’t know why, but I know it wasn’t meant to be right now. Since my second miscarriage I have asked God to please not let me get pregnant unless I am pregnant with a healthy baby. And so, since getting another negative I look at it that way. As much as not getting pregnant right now is hard, it’s not as devastating for me as it would be to lose another baby.
I keep thinking God just wants me to do more, before having kids. Maybe that’s publishing my memoir. Maybe that’s moving up at my job. Maybe it’s making money through my blog. And maybe it’s just sharing my story with all of you. I don’t know the reason. But I know that I’m not in control. As scary as it is, I want to have a baby. I want to be a mom to a baby here on earth. But I know that if that stick had two lines, I would have been happy, but not excited.
When you’ve suffered a loss, getting pregnant again feels different. Since you’ve already had the worst happen, you’re extra cautious and it’s always in the back of your mind. Is it going to happen again? Am I going to lose this pregnancy? Will this be a healthy baby? Only God knows the answers to those questions. And only time will tell what’s in store for us.
For now, I am going to do my best to keep living my life, teaching preschoolers, loving my family, writing, and appreciating the little things. ❤️
Recently, I had a very important appointment with my OBGYN. In the past I have had a variety of good appointments, and a variety of traumatic appointments at my OB’s office. However, this time was different, and surprisingly I had a very positive experience.
I made the appointment with my OB to discuss family planning and how to be a healthier me. It had been over a year since I had suffered my second miscarriage. So this appointment wasn’t a follow up physical and mental health appointment, nor was this appointment a pregnancy appointment. This appointment was just a let’s sit down and talk about how to be healthy appointment.
At this appointment my doctor seemed happy to see me. She was impressed that I graduated college, have a full time job as a teacher, have become more active and lost 20lbs in the last year, and that I have found ways to better manage my stress.
Throughout the appointment we discussed family planning and trying to concieve. My husband and I aren’t actively trying to concieve but rather, allowing it to happen if it does, and not preventing it if it does. We also discussed adoption and how this is the first avenue we plan to pursue.
In the end my doctor was very positive and hopeful that someday I could have a healthy pregnancy and healthy baby. But for now she is 100% supportive of my decision in getting healthy and working towards a child filled future.
Some things my doctor encouraged me to do as we plan for a family, include the following…
1. Start taking prenatal vitamins daily
2. Start taking my anxiety meds daily
3. Have my thyroid levels checked and managed regularly,
4. Continue to be active daily.
5. Strive for a better BMI, by starting with small goals, such as losing 10 lbs.
I can’t believe it’s almost November. Friends, where did October go? This month has been quite a struggle in getting myself motivated to write. When I get stumped, discouraged and tired; I often try to envision how I will feel once my memoir is complete. Writing a book is not easy. It can be a daunting task that I want to constantly give up on. But, I don’t dare give up because I’ve come so far and know I’m meant to do this.
Lately, I’ve just had a variety of really high highs and really low lows when it comes to my emotions, my grief and my goals. It’s exhausting. I try to look at the positive. I have a great job teaching kids everyday. I recently got named teacher of the month, which is also exciting. My husband and I are very busy, but are in a really good place. I love and adore my fur baby Rocky and things are going well for us financially as we pay off our debts.
When you put it that way, life is great and I shouldn’t be complaining. That’s when I feel a high. I feel like I can do this and it’s going to be okay. Then I think about the holidays… Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years. I’m not pregnant. I don’t have a foster baby and I don’t have any living children. I see friends my age having babies, celebrating birthdays, and holidays with their families. I think about the women who have been trying for 3+ years without any luck, and fear that one day will be me. I hear moms all the time complain about lack of sleep from their infant, tantrums from their toddler, and distant learning experiences from their adolescents…. while all the while I too wish I could be sharing the same experiences.
Thinking about all of this puts me in a very low low. I get to the point where I don’t want to see anyone. I want to hide away in my apartment and forget all the moms pregnant with quarantine babies, and the parents getting their kids ready for Halloween. I want to forget it all because at times it is so hard to deal with.
So you see, I’m not making a ton of progress on my writing because of the emotional grieving tornado I am currently facing. Writing sometimes helps, but sometimes it brings up emotions and memories I’m not quite ready to relive again. I’m not giving up. Not at all. But I am taking my time with this as I continue striving forward with my goals and try not to fear for what the future might hold.
19 years ago today, one of the worst terrorist attacks happened on American soil. A group of hijackers from the Middle East stole 4 comerical airplanes and crashed them into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
Where were you on 9/11?
I was 6 years old on 9/11. My mom and I just moved into our new house maybe a week before. I had just started first grade. Since I was only 6, I don’t remember a lot about that day, but there are a few things that stick out in my mind.
I remember being in the classroom while my teacher was teaching. I remember my brother had a nosebleed and went to the office. I remember him coming back and telling our teacher two buildings were hit by airplanes. I remember my teacher asking him to repeat it. I remember her looking really sad.
The rest of the day is blurry. I don’t remember if I stayed at school or if my mom picked me up, but I remember coming home. I remember seeing the news on for hours, replaying the footage over and over again. In my young mind I remember thinking “Why do they keep crashing planes into buildings? Someone should stop them.” It took me awhile to realize it was the same buildings and they just kept replaying the footage.
As the days followed, I remember my mom trying to explain to me what happen. I remember her being really sad and even scared to send me back to school. I remember my grandma being at our house and getting very sad and angry at the tv.
I remember that fall it was very patriotic. There were so many American flags being flown. I remember many people singing patriotic songs on tv and asking for money for the victims and families effected. I remember my teacher drawing the shape of a pentagon on the white board and explaining that a plane crashed into this building as well as the towers.
As I have reflected back on this day over the years, I have realized that I remember a lot more than had thought. I am also seeing that much of my education and childhood was certainly effected as I like many others had to grow up in a world after 9/11. I can recall numerous accounts of class conversations with our teachers about Osama Bin Ladin, terrorist attacks, 9/11, war etc.
Around the age of 16, I found an interest in 9/11. I think it is because it is a historic event that occurred in my lifetime that I somewhat remember. It truly is a sad moment in our history, but at the same time I find so much strength and resilience in hearing survivor’s stories. Though I know it will be hard, one goal I have is to someday visit Ground Zero and walk through the 9/11 memorial and museum. I say it will be hard because it is one thing to read and see the history and events of that day on a screen, but it is another to experience the location of that day and see it at that large magnitude.
Now that I am an adult and teaching preschoolers, I often wonder if anything like this will ever happen again. I hope not. I really really hope not. But if it did, how would I respond as a teacher. Personally, I don’t think I would be able to hide my sadness, as much as I would want to. I think I would try to protect and give to my kids love and comfort as best as I could… much like my first grade teacher did.
I do want to take a moment and say, I am thinking of all the people who were lost on 9/11 including the first responders and the average hardworking Americans. I am praying for all the families and friends who lost a love one that day. I also want to thank the many men and women who went to war right after 9/11 to fight for our freedom and the war against terror.
I also want to leave you with one last memory I have. This memory isn’t from 9/11 exactly but the many months after. I remember my class was on a field trip in the spring. It was very rainy and I don’t exactly remember where we were coming back from, I want to say it was from the nature center. Anyway, I remember riding the bus and playing with my friends on the bus. At some point the bus driver turned on the radio and the song God Bless the USA came on. Many of us kids started singing since this song was played often, we knew it very well. Before long the chaperones, my teacher and the bus driver were all singing to this song. To this day it still gives me chills thinking about how many of us children could not comprehend the magnitude of what happen that year, and yet we learned so much about violence, terror, bravery, freedom and how to be proud Americans.
What’s my why? What’s the reason I get up everyday? What’s the reason I go to work and teach my preschoolers Monday through Friday? What’s the reason I spend hours writing my books, writing blog posts, and making a point to help others who are struggling. Why do I do what I do? What’s my why?
I get up everyday to help others. It’s what I’m meant to do. It’s my purpose. But often times, I forget about myself. I forget that I need to be taken care of too. I forget that as much as I open my heart to so many children, mommas and people, that I usually forget about my own heart and that it too needs to be nurtured.
Many years ago I developed a passion, a divine destiny, and longing to work with children. Throughout the years I have studied, and learned how to love, teach and admire each individual child that enters my life. Each child has their challenges, their own strengths, and their own story. And though I don’t always know how long each child will be in my life, it is my job as a teacher and as a person to show them love because that is the best gift I can give them.
My job can be so incredibly rewarding. I have built long lasting relationships with families, children I have taught, coworkers and other fellow teachers. Many of these people have seen me at my best and my worst. All of these people hold a special place in my heart.
Through my job as a teacher and as someone who loves kids, it can be very rewarding. It can also be very challenging.
Working with children is no easy task. It can be exhausting and emotionally draining. My patience is tested daily and sometimes hourly. I am constantly making decisions, considering choices, choosing my words, and considering how my actions can best teach and set a positive example for my kiddos. It’s not easy, but certainly not impossible.
Teaching has always emotionally affected me, as I am taking care of someone else’s kids when I so desperately desire to have my own. After suffering two miscarriages and reentering the education field, I am even more aware and emotionally affected by the reminder that I still don’t have my own healthy children.
I’m not going to sugar coat it. It sucks. It really really sucks. It’s not fair. It hurts. It’s hard. But I deal with it. Somehow I find the strength to get through it. Everyday, I ask the question, why?Why don’t I have kids yet? Why did we have to lose two babies? Why have we had to go through this? I wish I knew the answers, but I don’t think I ever will.
Through a lot of time, reflection, and healing I have seen how much of my grief, and frustration was turned into something good and used to help others. I started a blog. I’ve shared my story in person and in a magazine. I wrote a children’s book. I have connected with many women around the world who have gone through the same thing. My grief did not happen in vain, it was used to help others.
So you see, the reason I get up everyday to teach children, write blog posts, and bond with other women, is because it’s my purpose in life. It’s what I was made to do. Because of what I have went through, I am able to love and appreciate the children in my life probably more than I ever would have if I hadn’t experienced what I have. Without going through the trauma and loss I did, I wouldn’t have started a blog. I wouldn’t have felt so inspired to write and share my story. Without the bad things happening in my life, I wouldn’t appreciate the good things.
I do what I do because I love and want to help people.
I want to help moms, women, children and families. I want to help all of you. I want to support you, encourage you, guide you and strengthen you. I want to be there for you. That also means I need to be there for myself. I need to take care of me and be kind to myself while I also help others.
Again, it’s not always easy…. and it still really hurts that I am not a mom to babies here on earth. But I take it day by day, and know that my work on this earth is not going unnoticed. I love you all and I am here if you need anything. That is why I do this.