The Inaugural Memorial Monday

For those of you who missed this post explaining what will be happening here on Mondays, here is the brief rundown: Each week, I will feature someone who has experienced loss through infertility. This is a way to recognize loss in a more tangible way and provide support to those to need it most.

My one request: please comment in some way. The whole point is to provide recognition of loss, for the grieving to know that they are not alone. I allow anonymous comments, so you do not have to have a blog or be registered with blogger to comment.

Today's Memorial is in honor of Joy. For those of you that do not currently follow either of her blogs, Joy is one of those people who has the perfect name. She is always filled with happiness for others and joy in her own life. Always one of the first to comment or pass along a blog award, Joy is someone that I wish that I could meet in real life. Her original blog doesn't talk about her miscarriage, so I had no idea that Joy had lost a pregnancy in 2006. Not only has Joy already suffered a loss, but she is also currently pregnant with falling progesterone and HCG numbers.

Here is her story in her own words:

I got pregnant with my first daughter in the fall of 2004. Getting pregnant was not a problem (two months is all it took), staying pregnant was not a problem, and the pregnancy was pure perfection including labor and delivery. So I was thinking, "I like this baby-making business! It's easy!!!" Well... keep reading.

My second pregnancy came as a surprise but we were elated. Elaina was 9 months old and I made her a "BIG SISTER 2006" t-shirt to wear to her grandparents' house. We bought a mini-van, we went house shopping, then I miscarried. I was broken-hearted. I screamed, ranted, raved, shook my fist at God, blamed myself.

We started trying again immediately. We continued house shopping but without as much vigor. Then I found the perfect house (didn't even have a FOR SALE sign up but we called our realtor to look it up). I got my first cycle after the miscarriage (it took EIGHT weeks) while we were packing and moving. I conceived our second daughter our first morning in our new house.

Thinking that we were just baby-making machines we started trying again recently. I noticed things were different with my body. I went to see my doctor and they found cysts on my ovaries and crazy hormone levels. I got the diagnosis of PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome). We tried and tried and got negative after negative.

For 13 months I felt the devastation of not getting pregnant. Two rounds of Clomid before I said, "ENOUGH!" I finally decided to move on with my life. To continue to take medication and exercise and hopefully reverse this diagnosis. On Halloween of this year, just a couple of weeks ago, I got my positive.

But that pregnancy is being threatened. Possibly because of the Clomid I had only taken just the month before (it thins out the lining of the uterus). My progesterone started to drop. I began to bleed in the evening. The on-call doctor was so sweet and gave me a prescription as I hyperventilated over the phone. I TRIED TOO HARD to just give up.

Now that my progesterone shot up to 175 my HCG has dropped from almost 7000 to 3000 last we checked. I'm going in for a blood test today to see if the levels are rising or declining. Depending on those results we have a scheduled ultrasound for Wednesday afternoon.

I'm a Christian and I believe in my Miracle Maker (great song, by the way) and I know that he can make this little heart beat and cause those HCG levels to rise. If you are also a believer, please add me to your prayer list! I am very desperate for this little one to live, especially for the sake of their big sisters who will be crushed. If you're not a believer, send me some sticky dust and your good thoughts! I want to see and hear a heartbeat on Wednesday. I want good news!

To continue to follow Joy's story and to further offer support, you can find her at Sunny Side Up.

To be featured in upcoming Memorial Mondays, please contact me by clicking on my profile link and then by clicking on my e-mail link. You can either write your story yourself or provide me with the details and I will do it for you. You may include pictures, poetry, whatever feels right. This is your memorial for your loss.

Memorial Monday

Okay, so this is my first attempt at making this blog a little more about infertility, loss, and support.

Allow me to sound really conceited for a minute. . . bear with me, the good is coming.

A lot of people follow my blog. Not a gazillion or anything crazy like some of the more famous bloggers get, but I have a decent audience. And you, my dear readers, are the best cheerleaders a girl can ask for! From the darkest days of my IVF cycle to the joyous day that Little Man entered the world, I had you all along for the ride.

An example of the support that I received is this anonymous comment posted when Will was born:

"Congratulations! I have followed your journey for so long now, and as I sit here with tear streaming down my cheeks, I am so happy for you, as I have waited so long to read and enjoy this amazing occasion with you! I am so happy for you all. God Bless your new family."

Can I just tell you how much it means to me that a complete and utter stranger cared so much about my struggles that they had tears? For me? For my lost angels? For our new beginning?

Sure, now that Will is here and healthy, I get a lot of nice comments in real life, even from strangers on the street. But where was all that when I really needed it - when I was miscarrying or going through a bad cycle?

When my angels died, the very hardest thing for me to suffer was the lack of recognition from society in general. In my case, with such early losses, there was no funeral, no memorial service, no obituary. But even having those things doesn't guarantee support. So many people avoid talking about loss. Even close friends and family can fail you. This post from Kathy talks about just this very thing, so I know that it's not just me that has felt it.

What I would like to do is use my blog as a memorial to the lost angels, babies, and dreams that are out there. Even if you have your own blog, this is a way for me to direct traffic your way. And it's not just for those that have lost a baby. Having gone through just a few ART cycles that didn't work and only one IVF cycle that did, I can't imagine how hard it must be for those that have multiple cycles fail. That's a loss, too. Every negative cycle is a loss, in my not-so-humble-opinion.

So, here is where you come in. My e-mail is linked through my profile. Send me your story. You can include whatever you'd like - pictures even! You can write your own entry, or just send me the bare bones and I will write it for you. Or it can even just be a poem, a couple of sentences, a flicker slide, whatever you would like to do to honor your story. If you want people to e-mail you directly, let me know to post your e-mail with the story.

Every Monday, Memorial Monday, I will post one persons' story. This will hopefully help give some tribute to the loss(es) that you have suffered. Even if you already have your own blog, this should help direct more traffice (and more support) to your site. If you are a lurker without your own blog, then this will allow you to get the support that you need without having to set up a site.

And for the rest of you - comment, comment, comment! Let the person know, the same way that you always let me know, that you are there for them! Give them as*vice, give them hope, give them what you gave me - your unfailing love and support!

It might be a total flop, or it might just work. So, starting tomorrow, look for my Memorial Monday post. This is just the first of some ideas that I have brewing. But don't worry, there will still be plenty of updates about Will and mommyhood after recurrent loss!

And don't forget to comment!

Giving Back

First, let me reassure those of you that left comments or sent e-mails. I am not going away - not entirely! First of all, there are too many of you that have seen me through my pregnancy and I want to see you through yours as well! And for those of you still waiting for your miracle, I am here to celebrate with you when those double lines appear or the adoption goes through!

I just want to return a bit to the original intention of this blog - to find others suffering from infertility and to help them, and also as a way of healing myself. Although I have come a long, long way in my healing now that Will is in our lives, there is still no replacing all of the angels that we lost along the way. I once vowed that I would do something to honor my sweet babies and I think using this site would be a good way to do that.

I am playing around with a few ideas on what to do and how to do it, so stay tuned for further information on that! And if you have any ideas that you aren't going to use on your own blog, or need help with, just let me know!

And of course, in my own not-so-humble-opinion, it would be downright cruel to never update you on this sweet little boy and all of his cuteness. So you definitely haven't heard the last of me!

A Blog That's Too Small . . . A Blog At All?

First off, thanks to Chili for hosting me on her blog and by honoring me with her post here.

Actually, I found it kind of freeing to be on someone else's blog. I have found mine feeling rather strange lately, almost as if it's a piece of clothing that doesn't quite fit - like so many of my prepregnancy clothes, it's seems snug in some places and loose in others.

You see, I started writing here for a reason. And that reason, for the time being, isn't a reason anymore. Not that I don't still have faint rumblings of infertility that echo in my mind, but it's a quiet thump in the back of my head, rather than the constant roar that it once was.

I started this blog for a dual purpose. The first was, at my therapist's suggestion, so that I would have a non-judgmental outlet, a place where I could pour my heart out and possibly even get affirmation from others. Boy, oh boy, did I get that and more! You, my dear readers, my commentators, my friends, got me through some of my darkest days and celebrated with me when I had my happiest days, too.

The second purpose, however, was truly so that I could find others and possibly help them. I remember reading so many stories of recurrent loss on the internet, but so few had happy endings. It seemed that after a certain number of losses, especially unexplained losses, most women either gave up and decided to remain child free, or adopted. While adoption was definitely an option for us, I really wanted the experience of carrying a baby to term, a chance for my body to "redeem" itself for all of the failures. Once I got pregnant and it seemed to be our RLB after all, I felt that possibly my success story could show others that there are happy endings out there after so many losses.

However, I wonder how many of those that stumble across the site see all the pictures of Will and think (as I once did about former-infertiles-now-with-babies), "Well, she couldn't possibly understand how I feel now."

And it's true. Because you do start to forget a bit, how awful it all really was. Or maybe forget is the wrong word. I never forget. But I shove those darkest of days back to the deepest recesses of my mind, because they truly were so awful.

Yesterday, I was on the phone with a good friend, a fellow former-infertile-now-with-baby (someone really needs to think up a better term for it than that), who also has a miracle IVF baby. We were laughing as we relived some of our experiences, but after I got off the phone with her, I started to cry. Those days aren't far enough behind me now to laugh . . . not yet, and possibly not ever. The feelings of infertility aren't as far below the surface as I try to push them. You barely scratch me, and I still bleed.

All of this to say that I am not sure what direction to take this little blog anymore. I can't see walking away from it altogether, but I am not sure what purpose, what shape it should have. So, if you don't hear from me as often, that is the reason.

That, and a certain Little Man. . . Who is the purpose of everything.

A Guest Post Brought To You By the Great Cross Pollination

The following is a guest post brought to you by the Second Annual Blog Cross Pollination. If you didn't want to click the link to find out what it's all about, basically, I have the great honor of having an amazing guest blogger posting today. Your mission is to: Read the post. Guess the author and post your guess in the comments section. Then, click the link at the end of the post to see if you are right. Even if you weren't right, you are still a winner, because you'll have stumbled upon a great new blog to read - Oh, and MY post for the day! Thanks for playing!

Losing My Mind: Life after Secondary Infertility

Parenting after infertility is more intense than I could possibly have imagined.

With First I was often worried, but never terrified. First's place in the world seemed certain, while Second's feels much more precarious. When First did new things, I was excited, but never so happy I cried. First's milestones I had waited months for, Second's I've waited years for.

And then there's the guilt...

With First, when I felt tired or overwhelmed, I just took a nap or asked for help. With Second, I feel guilty for not enjoying every solitary second of his day.

With First, I didn't enjoy going back to work because I wished I could spend more time at home with her, but it was just what I had to do and I was at peace with that. With Second, I feel guilty that we worked so very hard to get him here and now I'm going to give him to someone else to care for on a daily basis.

We're already talking about trying again in a couple of years, and that brings guilt as well. When we decided to try for Second, we felt like we would be adding to First's life by giving her a sibling. In retrospect, the time we spent trying to conceive Second was hard on First even though she was blissfully unaware of what was going on. I was so consumed in our infertility that I'm sure there were times that I wasn't there for her enough. Times that I didn't listen enough. Times that I didn't talk enough. In the end, I think she's better off for having a sibling, but I wonder if having a Third is worth risking putting Second through that, and putting First through it again.

My challenge now is to find a way to turn these feelings into something positive. Use them to become a better person and a better parent, instead of becoming crippled by them. If you have any thoughts on this, I'd love to hear them. Thoughts, suggestions, commiseration, and even (constructive) criticism if that's what comes to mind. And feel free to tell me to relax. Relax was a dirty word in this house before we conceived Second, but I think it's about time to bring it back into daily use!

Did you guess? Did you post your guess in the comments section . . . no cheating! Now, click here to see if you were right!

Too Much of A Good Thing!

When I had my c-section, the doctor had to do a pretty heavy-duty spinal, as I could still feel my stomach even after he turned up the juice on my epidural. Then, the initial spinal didn't take, and he had to add even more drugs to the mix.

That's why I wasn't too surprised when my lower back/upper buttock area remained numb after the rest of me regained feeling. Even a few weeks later, I still wasn't that worried about it. I figured that it was a small price to pay for not feeling someone cut through the layers of my stomach fat and uterus!

At my six week check, I asked my OB if it was normal, and he said it wasn't and that he would have the anesthesiologist call me for a follow up. I never heard anything and, as the numbness wasn't keeping me from my regular activities, and was only mildly annoying, I kind of just let it go.

Over the past two weeks, however, I have had these little shooting/electrical little pains radiating from the numb area in my back down to my left leg. It kind of reminds me of the feeling right after they administered the initial epidural, that little flash of electrical current that didn't hurt more than startle. But it seems strange that it would be getting worse instead of staying the same or getting better. I have noticed that the shooting pains only happen when I am sitting down, or especially when I am driving. Sometimes, when I get out of the car, even after a short drive, my left leg feels numb until I walk around for a few minutes.

So, I called the OB office today, to see if there was anything else that I needed to do for a follow up. The anesthesiologist called me back and I have an appointment for next week. I don't think that it's anything too serious, and kind of wonder if the shooting little pains are the nerves coming back alive?

If anyone has had anything similar happen to them, I'd love to hear your experience.

Nap Time

Right now, Will is taking his third consecutive nap in his crib. We have a little "nap routine" now, which includes a diaper change, brief massage with lotion, two books, and then a few minutes of quiet rocking. Then, I am able to put him down awake, and he goes to sleep in the crib. Yesterday, there was a bit of fussing/crying involved as he settled down to sleep, but I went back in after about five minutes and patted his tummy and he drifted off.

This morning, there was some cooing and then about two pathetic little waahs and he was off to dreamland. He did partially wake up ten minutes later, but with a few more half-hearted cries, he was back to sleep.

Of course, now the key is getting his naps to stay longer. He only sleeps about forty-five minutes to maybe an hour. And he wakes up crying, so I am pretty sure he is still tired. Usually, when he is well-rested, the crying stops when I pick him up and I can put him down on the changing table and he is all smiles. If his nap has been too short, the crying starts again when I set him down.

As I started typing this, he woke up. I went in, patted his tummy for a few minutes. When that didn't work, I picked him up and patted his back, and he fell asleep on my shoulder. When I put him back down, he instantly started crying again. These cries are more insistent and not the "I'm just fussing" variety, more of the "I mean business" kind. I am not ready to do "crying it out" yet, so when the cries go beyond the fussy to the really upset, I go in. As recommended by our pediatrician, we are waiting until the four to five month mark to even think about letting him cry it out. Even then, I have a hard time imagining it. We will see when the time comes.

Right now, Will has started sleeping better at night. We had a few really good nights last week, with seven hour stretches. But we usually get at least one five hour stretch now, which is wonderful for everyone.

So, any suggestions on how to lengthen naps without crying it out would be appreciated. Also, Will has not moved to an earlier bedtime and still is staying up until about 10 PM. We do a longer version of the naptime routine at 8 PM, but he won't stay down. Any ideas for moving bedtime a bit earlier would also be welcome!