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.

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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.

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.

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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.

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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.

Ten months.

I hate these month posts.

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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.

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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.

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

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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.

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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?"

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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. :)

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.

And....back again.

Sorry.  It's been a nutso couple of weeks.

The brother is doing very well - actually out of the hospital today, three days after surgery.  They got all of the tumor; we're still waiting to hear what kind of tumor it is and that will determine what the next course of action will be.

I've been having some rough days.  Being in the hospital with him has been really tough.  Neither of his rooms were near L&D, but it was still so similar.  The smell.  The beeps.  The way he looked.  I've cried a lot this week, and that's really sucked.  Also had my first BFN test - actually two, after AF was two weeks late.  Sigh.

One day at a time.