Problem?

We had an ultrasound last week, and our doctor called us the next day and said that the amniotic fluid level is on the high side of normal.  No "worries" yet, but any ounce of concern is freaking me out.

-------------

16 months this past week.

My thoughts of Olivia are so much closer to the surface now - tears come pretty quickly.  They don't stick around, but they come quickly.  It's like I'm expecting an ending, not a beginning with Tuppy.  And that's horrid.  But that's all I know.

-------------

Tentative plans are an induction on May 5.  I'll be 37w1d, 8 days past what I was when Olivia died.  I'm excited and terrified.

I'm afraid to buy stuff.  It's cheaper to buy diapers on Amazon if you set up regular delivery, but I'm afraid to assume we'll need them.

--------------

Twice a week non stress tests (NSTs) and once a week fluid checks start this week.  Here we go.  Again.

Can you fault me for not being optimistic?

15 months, L&D #2, and other happenings

Last week was 15 months.  15 months since my daughter died, three months until my son is due.  Yeah.

------------

We hit up L&D again last weekend.  Everything's good; we just have to chill.  I mean, they didn't say that.  They said we can come by anytime we want - our doc and the whole L&D wing is the shit.

------------

Failed my one-hour glucose test last week.  Luckily, the 3-hour was fine.  Well, fine in that it was horrid, gross, yucky, exhausting, but I passed, so I'll take it. :)

------------

Starting to buy some clothes and things for Tuppy.  There's part of me, though, that still doesn't totally believe that this is happening.

------------

It's getting harder and harder to imagine what life would be like with Olivia.  And that sucks.

------------

I'm really, really tired.  But my schedule at work will lighten up a little bit this week until the end of the semester, so I'm hoping that will help.

------------

My husband is the shit.

L&D #1

We went to labor and delivery last night.

Everything is fine, but I didn't feel Tuppy for about 4 hours, and started freaking out.  It's early, and the periods of me not feeling him are going to happen - he's still pretty little - but that's what happened when we lost Olivia, so J. called and we went in last night.  Everything is fine; he was actually kicking in there but I wasn't feeling it, so we're good.

Note to self and to other people: when someone is telling you about how they were upset, even if it was over nothing, you telling them about how others' lives are sucking doesn't make the original person feel any better.  I mean, what is that?  Believe me, I'm grateful nothing is wrong.  Now you're just making me feel guilty about it.

Sigh.

Still here. Still waiting.

14 months was a couple of days ago.  I don't think I cried the day of, but I had a hard day yesterday.  I wish I understood grieving.  I know it's never going to end, but I wish I could prepare myself for the slaps.

I'm 23 weeks with Tuppy this week.  Still not a ton of kicking, but it took a long while with Olivia too.  Still a long way to go.

I'm having a difficult time reconciling everything.  I don't feel like I'm really giving Tuppy the same attention and excitement that I gave Olivia.  That makes me feel guilty.  But then I start thinking more about him, and then I feel guilty for not thinking about Olivia as much.  How does this work?  How do I continue to honor her memory and keep her a vibrant part of our lives but still "move on" with my life?

As I'm starting to show more/talking about the pregnancy more with strangers, I always get asked the inevitable, "Is this your first pregnancy?"  It makes me wince inwardly every time, but I always say sort of, and then I explain about Olivia.  I'm able to do that now without losing it and without invoking too much detail and, if anything, then people leave me alone.  You know, stay away from the tainted woman with the dead baby.  Or whatever.

One of my best friends is two weeks behind me in this pregnancy.  She had a miscarriage almost 5 years ago now, and they have a three-year-old daughter, who is so excited for her little brother.  That kills me a bit, too.  I am so happy for them - and god knows they've dealt with loss too - but it still kills me a bit.

I keep saying to people that I won't fully exhale until Tuppy is crying in my arms.  But then what happens?

Is that what I think it is?

This is the blog entry that never ends; I've started and stopped a billion entries.  So here's one really long one.

12/17
We had a ultrasound at a maternal fetal specialist on Tuesday - our regular doc just wanted to be safe and have us check in with someone else to see if they had any other ideas of what precautions we should be taking.

So, the tech was doing all of the measurements, and J. asked her if we could "see any junk."  Lawd.  So she tried to look, and we got a big ol' shot of a penis.

So, yes, it's a boy.  And we're very excited.

But.

I've been crying a lot the last few days.  I sort of expected this.

I'm excited for him.  But I don't miss her any less.

12/25

Lost it at church this morning.  At Olivia's memorial service, we played Angels we have heard on high, and they sang it today.  I'd already been a little emotional, but thought I could keep it together.  And then that started and I was done.  DONE.

I've been up and down a whole bunch.  I keep asking J if this is more than normal, if I should be worried, if I need to get into therapy.  But he keeps reassuring me - and he's right - that I was like this with Olivia too.  I was a wreck off and on until I could feel her kicking.  Of course, everything has different weight, different reasons, different sources this time, but the timing is about the same.

The holidays are hard.  I keep thinking about how she'd be, seeing little girls around her age and having to turn away.

1/1

It's a new year.

I'm still out of town for the holidays, but am thinking more and more about having to go through the nursery and all of Olivia's things.  It's going to suck.  A LOT.  I'm going to need at least a day for that - the actual sorting and the aftermath.

I wish I knew how to do this.

It's 1/1/11, and, according to my sad little counter, it's been 1 year, 1 week, 1 month and 1 day since we lost her.  Huh.

One year.

I don't even know what to say today.

I just think about things like:
-the fact that everything we have for her she would have outgrown
-how unbelievably amazing our doctor and most of the nurses were (and still are)
-the outpouring of love from our friends and family
-that I desperately, savagely miss her
-that she will ALWAYS be a part of our lives
-that I hope and pray she can watch over her little brother or sister

I am so grateful of the time we had with her, and so pissed that we didn't get more.

Baby girl, I love you so much.

Friends.

I lurk on a lot of BL blogs, and there seems to be common feelings of disconnect from old friends - that many of us have friends that don't really know how to handle our grief, and then just give us some more space.

Any of you feel like you've actually cut people off?

I feel I have.  It's hard for me to return calls to a lot of people.  There's a specific group of our friends - a bunch of guys that I've been friends with for over ten years - that I really have removed myself from.  Why?  I don't exactly know.  One of them had a baby this past summer, so that doesn't help.  But I just sort of cut myself off.

We usually get together with these guys over the holidays, and I'm dreading the email.  Maybe it will never come.  That's a distinct possibility.

And then I got a Facebook message from a girl I went to grad school with - we haven't really kept in touch.  But she sent me a note saying she'd been praying for me all year and knew that this would be a tough week and that I was in her thoughts, which was really sweet.  I had just mentioned to J a few days ago that I wondered how many of our friends would remember, if any would call, or send us a note, or something.  So that made me teary and grateful all at the same time.

I am so glad this is a short week, and I am SO GLAD we are both off on Wednesday.  It's going to be hard.

Bad blogger.

I am, in fact, a terrible blogger.  This is okay.

So I'm pregnant.  13w1d to be exact.

It's been a terrifying last couple of weeks.  Every cramp, every pain, every time I had to go to the bathroom I was freaking out.  Because why should anything go right?

I think I'm finally past the waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop phase, though.  At least I hope so.  My mom said it best - this is a new life, and we're just doing what we promised - having a little brother or sister for Olivia.

It's hard to be excited when I miss her so much.  It's difficult to reconcile in my brain.  I mean, having another baby doesn't take anything away from her - my brain knows this.  But my heart has to learn it over and over again.

I know things could still go wrong.  I know anything could happen.  And I'm not okay with that, but it's not something I can really avoid.  It is what it is.

Olive was Spatula Bernadine in the womb.  This little one is Tupperware Buttercup, or Tuppy Butt for short.

I'm so grateful our doctor is who he is - really down to earth, really nice, and just a good man.  I will never be able to repay for the kindness and empathy he showed and continues to show us.

---------

We're coming up on one year.  Next week, actually.  Just thinking that everything we had for her she would have grown out of already....wow.  And how different our lives should be, and how different they are, but not nearly in the same way we thought.  I'm just glad we're off from school that day so we can just be home and grieve in private.

I just wish she was here.

Eleven months.

I can't believe it's been that long.  I was trying to imagine her at 11 months today....what she'd look like, what she'd be doing....and it's hard to even imagine.  Yes, I know what typically babies do at that age.  But what about Olivia.

Sigh.

After two weeks of not blogging you'd think I'd have more to say.  But sometimes I just have no words.

Blissful ignorance.

I miss that a lot.

I miss looking at pregnancy with nothing but hope and excitement.  Now those thoughts are tainted with fear, terror, dread, and worry.  There's still hope and excitement, but the innocence is totally gone.

I had lots of worries last time - worries about previa, worries about fluid levels - and was pretty good about setting that stuff aside.  Me worrying and being stressed couldn't change the outcome.  But that kind of stuff will be so much harder this time - any twinge, any pain, ANYTHING is going to make me freak out.

I miss being ignorant.

---------------------

I have had sort of a sad weekend.  I don't know why; maybe it's just because when I finally have true down time all of it comes out.  When I'm busy, I can put aside how different my life should be right now.  That there should be baby proof locks everywhere, that there should be cheerios crushed into the carpet, we should be worrying about if we have enough diapers left to get through the rest of the weekend.  Instead I'm sitting here on the couch with a cup of coffee with the Packer game on in the background.

I started reading Carol Cirulli Lanham's book this weekend; I'm sure that's part of it.  It's just ripping off the proverbial bandage.

---------------------

I hate that everything has a shadow on it.  It's like an out-of-balance recipe.

Hanging on.

Super busy week - singing a gig with Seraphic Fire that's been pretty vocally taxing.  I was already woundede when I got down here so trying to do the best I can on less cylinders than I'm used to.

Sitting at a Starbucks on Miami Beach right now and there are a MILLION babies here.  It's getting easier, though.  It's easier for me to look at the babies as a mom-to-be who's trying to get pregnant and less as a mom who lost her baby.  Not all of the time - hell, if there's anything I've learned in this last year, there's exceptions to every rule - but I'm getting there.

Just found out one of my sort-of cousins (step-cousin, technically) is pregnant with triplets.  Egads.  But things have been sketchy - they're not sure one of them is going to make it.  We're not close, and me contacting her out of the blue I think would be weird.  But I'm thinking about her and those three wee ones, and hoping everything goes okay for them.

I've been really busy with teaching this fall - have lots of students and am teaching a few classes.  Getting paid crap, of course, because I'm an adjunct, but what can you do.  It's a job in my field, and I'm grateful for that.

Sigh.  Life is hard.  I used to say that and thought I knew what that meant.

For something non-baby and non-sad....

Just sayin'.

Ten months.

I hate these month posts.

--------------

I haven't been moved to write as of late.  Life at school has been crazily busy, and that's taking a lot of my time.

--------------

Another BFN last week.  But I'm still without AF, which is really frustrating.  I've never been irregular in my entire life, and have been since the pregnancy.  Makes it a lot more difficult to plan when I'm ovulating.

At the same time, I hate that I'm doing that.  I hate that I'm obsessing, and worrying.  We didn't have a problem getting pregnant before - only took four months!  But I'm doing it.  I'm thinking about it all the time, planning on when we should try, and that's not very fun.  I mean, really.

--------------

Really happy for my buddy CurlsOFred for her pregnancy, though.  She's gonna be my role model. :)

--------------

Family wedding last weekend where a 10-month-old boy was the ringbearer.  My niece, one of the flower girls, pulled him up on a big two-seater wagon.  The minute I saw it I knew Olivia would've been there and been a flower girl, and it just made me hurt.  All of these family things that she should be experiencing and that we should be experiencing with her.  This sucks so much.

--------------

I'm already thinking about what to say to my students when I get pregnant again.  I said I was obsessing, right?  I mean, there's a whole new class of students this fall who have no idea what we went through last year.  And I feel like I need to prep them, but also prep myself so I don't get the inevitable "is this your first baby?"

--------------

Miss you, Olive.  Every day.  We're learning to survive and thrive without you here physically, and have both grown separately and together so much in this last year.  We'd trade any of it to get you back, though.

Love you.

Square one.

I'm having one of those hard days; one of those days where I feel like I've been catapulted back eight or nine months in the grieving process.

I'm so down today.  I think part of it is that I'm PMSing, and that almost makes it worse, because then I'm not pregnant.   Just having one of those days when I feel like a complete failure.  Failure as a mom, failure as a wife, failure as a woman....everything.

Will I ever stop feeling guilty?  I don't know.  My brain knows I didn't do anything wrong, but my heart and soul agree with that very little of the time.  I just feel like I failed her.  That I failed her, failed my husband, failed our families, failed everyone.

I feel like hell, I look like hell, and I just want to crawl under the blankets and sleep for days.

Pressure, pressure, pressure.

I'm getting a little obsessed with TTC.  And I HATE that I'm doing that.  I keep looking at my body for those subtle changes I noticed in the first seven weeks, hoping to see something.

However.

I don't think this is all my fault.  The question I've gotten asked the most this fall is, "Are you guys trying again?"  It sorta seems like people think on some level that us having another baby will make our world "normal" again.

To these people, I offer up a hearty FUCK YOU.  Another baby will never replace our sweet Olivia.  Yes, it will give us a chance to have all of those experiences of having a baby that we didn't get to have with Olive, but another baby will never be Olive.  He or she will be his or her own perfectly flawed entity.

I do know, though, that I'm putting pressure on myself.  That, when and if AF comes to town next time, I'm going to be heartbroken.  And I wish I wasn't doing this - I keep trying to reason with myself, and then I catch myself thinking about it again.

Sigh.

Random ups and downs.

I haven't written at all for almost two weeks.  We've been so nuts with school - that's good, I suppose, but I do miss the down times of the summer.

J. and I are both down today.  Neither of us really know why, and early I was thinking about what things I could do to cheer him (or me!) up.  And I started thinking of all of those things I would have laughed at before but never will again.

I know they always say having a child changes you, and we were prepared for that.  But I was never prepared for this kind of grief and the ongoing stark realizations.  I will never be the same person again.  And I MISS that me, that version of me that was more carefree and more genial.

I really hope we get pregnant soon, although I know that will bring on a completely different set of challenges and worries.  But I'm hoping that the optimism and the excitement of that will help.  That's a lot of pressure to put on a child-to-be.  But he or she will be related to us, and we are TOUGH. :)

Nine months.

Wow.

Nine whole months.

I miss her every day.  We're doing pretty well today.  We each had a few moments of sadness, but we're hanging in there.

School started this week; I am exhausted already.  I will have a pretty full schedule this semester, which is good - as a lowly adjunct, more work actually means more money - but holy cow am I out of that routine.  The last time I was in this routine I had cut back quite a bit.  Not this fall.

We have a new teacher at school whose name is Olivia.  I have to admit, every time I hear someone say her name, I tighten up a bit.  I'm hoping that will get easier as time goes by.

Yeah.

It's one of those days where I just don't know what else to say.  I'm not better, I'm not worse, but I'm surviving.  I guess that's good.

When it hits.

I've been trying to figure out how to describe what it feels like when the grief hits.

A wave.

A cloud.

Sandbags.

A heavy blanket.

Gravity x infinity.

A tranquilizer.

Cold, wet clothes.

A severe beating (I imagine).

A sinus headache in my entire body.

And none of those really adequately describe it.

Have you ever read the Vonnegut story called Harrison Bergeron?  The concept is basically about weighing people down who are more intelligent or more athletic than the average person so that everyone is the same.  When this hits, it sort of feels like that - like someone, somewhere, thought I was too happy and gave me the most terrible handicap.

Thankful Tuesdays #5

I'm thankful for my dad.

Our car is old, and slowly, slowly dying.  And this past week he called us up to ask us some questions about some things that were going wrong, and he ordered a whole bunch of parts for us online and talked to a repair guy in town.  This embarrasses us somewhat, but, at the same time, he knows WAY more about cars than we do.

He was a rock when Olivia died, for all of us.  He was hurting too, and wasn't afraid to show that, and help us anyway he could.

We don't always agree - we couldn't be further apart on the political spectrum - but he's my dad, and he's awesome.

One-two punch.

I have to first thank Curls O Fred for mentioning Glow in the Woods this week - I really, really liked it, especially since there were some men blogging.  I passed it onto J, and this is really his first foray into the babyloss blogs.  There were many tears for both of us, but I also think this is good - I think he's really found some people to connect with on this in some way, at least via reading what they write.  It's been an emotionally wrenching night, though.

In his trolling for more, he discovered Grieving Dads, which, upon first reading, he really likes.  I wanted to pass it on for any other dads out there.

AF also decided to drop in today, about two weeks early.  I have NEVER been irregular and since AF started coming back it's been weird - four weeks, four weeks, six weeks, six weeks, and now four weeks.  I also really thought we could be pregnant, so that was tough.  It will happen - I know it will - but it was kind of a slap in the face.  And I had to admit that to myself when J asked me about it - that it's just different now.  It's not pressure, per se, but it's just....different.

Sigh.