More Loss

It has been exactly one year since I posted on here.  It seems that this blog is a bit of a morgue because what I have to share today isn't happy news either.

Exactly one week ago today, Brady died.  She died right here in our living room at 5:32 that morning.  I won't go into details because I am hoping some day I forget the sounds and sights of that horrible morning, but I do remember the time.  She had eaten her dinner the Saturday before and everything seemed normal.  Then when we got up on Sunday, Grant had found the entire contents of what she had eaten on the floor by the door.  Her puking was nothing new - she had done it quite a few times - so I didn't think much of it.  When we got home from church, I took her and Kodi outside and we played ball and I brushed them both.  Again - she was acting "normal".  That night she refused to eat her food, but I just chalked it up to her being a little leery since she had puked everything from the day before.  On Monday, she seemed okay before we left for Lewiston and by the time we came back, she still seemed the same.  As the day went on, she seemed to get worse.  The weather outside that day was horrible, so the dogs didn't want to spend much time out there anyway.  Brady would go outside and stay though, so that concerned me.  On Tuesday morning, I could see a major difference in her.  She was laying in the hallway shivering and shaking even though it was quite warm in our house and the floors are where the heat comes from.  I just sat and held her and cried.  That day, she still attacked the vacuum but that is about all of the energy I saw from her.  She did drink some chicken broth and a few licks of cottage cheese, but that was all.  By Wednesday, I knew the end was inevitable.  She was so skinny by now from refusing food.  She refused to go outside all morning and then after lunch she finally went outside and sat in the below freezing temps until I went and carried her back in.  I used a dropper to get water into her, but she would just violently throw it back up.  It was sooooo hard to watch my little friend go through this.  Grant said her last night (Wednesday) was rough and he cleaned up most of it before I got up.  Then she was gone.  :-(

We couldn't afford to take her to the vet.  I felt (and still feel) like a horrible parent for not being able to do that for her.  I kept asking God to take her peacefully and quickly, but he didn't.  I don't know why this all had to happen and why it had to happen this way.  She was the best dog I have ever owned.  She was always there to comfort me when I was sad or having a bad day.  Her noises haunt this house and even with 2 kids, 2 large dogs and one fat cat, this house seems very quiet. 

I posted what is essentially her obituary on the Corgi Dogs Facebook page and I am blown away by all the perfect strangers that took the time to give their condolences.  The average life span of a Corgi is 12-14 years.  Brady was 11.5.  I feel shorted.

I miss you, Brady.

Loss

What a difference two weeks makes.

Two weeks ago, we were in Iowa visiting my brother and his family. 

Two weeks ago, I was technically still pregnant.

Then last Wednesday, I went to my OB appointment and everything spiraled downhill from there...

My OB went to listen to the baby's heartbeat, but couldn't hear one.  I immediately thought "not again, Lord!" She then went out and got a portable ultrasound machine to see if the baby was moving at all.  The picture was fuzzy, but she didn't see any movement.  She then told me that it has happened before where she didn't see anything but when they did the actual ultrasound upstairs, it was a different story. 

That gave me very little hope.  

I had to wait an hour before the ultrasound tech could do the "real" ultrasound on me.  For that hour, I sat in my car and cried and cried out to God - begging him to work a miracle and for this baby to actually be okay.

It just simply wasn't meant to be.

The ultrasound tech confirmed what I already knew - the baby was dead.  I then had to wait for someone to come and escort me back down to the OB floor so I could talk to my doctor about what to do next.  My doctor informed me that the baby had likely died at 9 weeks (I was 11 weeks at the time of my appointment), which is the exact same thing that had happened with the first miscarriage - just a little less than 8 months ago.  This one was a little harder to swallow because I had had a viability screen done at 7 weeks and 6 days and I saw the baby, its heartbeat and it moving all around.  How could the baby have been dead just a week after that??  My human mind is not capable of understanding such things - the logic is just not there.

So here I am faced with another surgery and more questions.  Why did this happen again?  What am I doing wrong?  How can I have 2 healthy pregnancies and then back-to-back miscarriages?  They tell you over and over again that "you did nothing to cause this", but I can't help but second-guess every single decision I made during both of those brief pregnancies. 

After my surgery this past Friday, I decided to face this loss with more of a head-on approach than I did last time.  Last time, I basically avoided the issue and never really dealt with it.  I just felt numb.  I allowed myself to be in a dark fog and I just muddled through it.  As I read different people's stories of their own losses and struggles, I start to think "I just need to suck it up - other people have it way worse than I do!"  Then other times I'm like "everything happens for a reason - God is in control and I am not".  And then there are the times where I just cry out "why?!" and then all sorts of bitterness enters in.

I don't know what the future holds.  I don't know if we'll ever find out a reason as to why this has happened.  I don't know if we will ever have another baby.  But I do know that God is the one in control and I just need to lean on Him to get me through this.

12-12-12

So, today is 12/12/12.  I heard this morning that it will be the last time in my lifetime that we will see such a date sequence.

Crazy.

It is also the date that I have had in my mind since May when I had the miscarriage.  There was a good chance that today could have been baby #3's birthday.  I can't really explain the emotional roller-coaster that I have been on since May.  Some days are good - others just flat out stink.  Recently though, we found out some news that keeps us looking forward:

Do you see what I see?

God has a funny way of helping us to overcome our grief by potentially giving us another gift.  :-)  Given the fact that it is still early on in the pregnancy, I'm still very nervous - especially after knowing that what happened in May could easily happen again.  But for now, I am trying to be optimistic and cannot wait for my OB appointment in January where I will hopefully hear a heartbeat.  If all goes well, Baby should arrive the first part of August.

(BTW - this is not public knowledge as of yet.  So to the 1 or 2 people that actually read my blog, you are sworn to secrecy until we officially announce this news.)  :-)

***UPDATE***  As of today (12/13/12) I have an ultrasound scheduled for Monday morning.  To say I'm nervous, would be an understatement...  Prayers appreciated.

 

35 and Still Alive

Today was my 35th birthday.  That is only 5 away from 40...  Yikes!  I had the pleasure of going to the BMV office to renew my license.  I was prepared for a wait and lugged in a bag full of stuff to keep the girls busy.  Instead, it literally took all of 5 minutes to renew.  I didn't have to take the eye exam, I didn't have to have a new photo taken (thank goodness) and so I have no idea why I COULDN'T HAVE JUST DONE IT ONLINE!  Completely unnecessary for me to drive 35 minutes for that but whatever...

Anyway, since Grant is still in San Diego, the girls and I enjoyed some yummy Panera.

Yummy - bad for you French Onion Soup

 

"Spike" was one of my lunch dates.

 Aria enjoyed her mac-n-cheese. 

Brielle ate better if Aria fed her -  go figure

After we got home, I went out and raked leaves. (fun, fun - right?)

 

Kodi enjoyed us being home.

 

Aria helped.

 

Brady liked being out as well.

 

cheese! ( I look like crap)

 

Aria's pile

 

I was too lazy to cook something for dinner, so I ordered Domino's. 

Regret that decision now.

So, I survived another birthday.  One thing that I missed today was having a friend to go out to lunch with or something.  I also missed cake.  Maybe I am just getting needy and sentimental the closer I get to 40 - who knows...  Yes, I am thankful that I got to spend time with my kids, but there is something about friendship that seems to be missing in my life right now.

Here Goes Nothing!

 

Serious attempt at losing weight.  Starting with a 3 day cleanse and then going from there.

All of the ribbon is cut up to make korker bows for Aria's party guests.  Now I just have to seal the ends, sew the bows together, cover the clips and attach the bows to the clips.  (I think I'm scrapping the idea to make tutus.  I have all of the tulle, so if you have a little girl don't be surprised to see a tutu as a gift in her future...)

That's it for now.  Back to cleaning...

All the Rage

Since it seem to be "popular" to take photos of food and post them, I thought I'd jump on the bus.  Aside from my radishes, I just picked my first veggies from my garden.  Yay!

First batch of lettuce

1/2 pound of green beans

The following photo is of a very disappointing experiment:

2 tomato plants + 1 upside down planter = 0 tomatoes and a lot of blight

In other news - there are a few pretty flowers in the flower garden that I have ignored in the back yard:

And my camera has a fun feature where I can keep the main color and turn everything else black and white:

neat - eh?

And finally, in an attempt to make our tiny bedroom more inviting and relaxing, I've started making the bed everyday (don't judge).  I also put up one of those peel and stick wall decals.  Take a look:

you like?

Tough Week

This has been a tough week to say the least. 

On Monday, I went in for what was supposed to be a routine OB appointment.  Sunday was the 11 week mark in this pregnancy.  At my appointment I was looking forward to hearing the heartbeat.  However, it wasn't meant to be.  The midwife got out the doppler to listen to the heartbeat and could not find one.  She then did an exam, determined that my uterus was tilted and so maybe that the baby was hiding.  She sent me across town to have an ultrasound done.   The ultrasound tech confirmed my worst fear - there was no heartbeat, the baby was dead.  They sent me back to the midwives for further instruction.  The tears began to flow.

Back at the midwives', they take me back to a room.  There they tell me that this happens a lot at their practice. (Not exactly encouraging news - especially since I was hesitant to call them in the first place because the last 4-digits of their phone number is 0666.)  Then the midwife goes over my options and tells me to call them as soon as I had made my decision. 

That night Grant and I discussed our options and I also spoke with my cousin that is a physician.  Between the two conversations and along with doing some research, I decided to choose the D&C.   I knew that emotionally I could not handle seeing the tissue and essentially the baby in the toilet.  Nor could I handle the waiting for it to happen and the pain - both physically and emotionally - that would come with that. 

So I impatiently wait for the midwife office to open at 9 am on Tuesday.  I call, speak with a receptionist, tell her my information and what I have decided and she tells me that a midwife will call me right back.  Over 4 hrs later, I have not heard anything.  I call back - a little irritated by now - and I ask if it is normal to wait over 4 hrs for a return call.  The receptionist puts me on hold, then comes right back and tells me that the other receptionist is on the phone with the medical practice that performs the procedure.  (Midwives, obviously don't do D&Cs.)  I hold a while longer and when they get back on the phone, they tell me that the first available appointment was June 1.  That was nearly 3 more weeks past where we already were and the chances of me "releasing" the baby on my own before then were pretty high.  The receptionist and I were in agreement that that was too long to wait and she would call me back later once they found a better date.  Her "better date" was May 22 - and that appointment was only a consult and from there they would schedule the actual procedure for a later time. 

This did not set well with me.  I decided to call Generations (where I had gone for my first two pregnancies) and I asked if this was normal procedure.  The poor girl that answered my call got to deal with a sobbing, hurting no-longer-mom-to-be.  Soon after, I received a call from Mary, Dr. Vaughan's nurse.  She asked me some more questions and said that she would speak with Dr. V and get back to me.

Wednesday morning, Mary called back.  She said that Dr. V would do the procedure on Thursday (today).  A little later the O.R. called me and set up the time and told me all the specifics about not being able to eat or drink after midnight and so on.  Surgery was scheduled for 10:30 am with arrival at 9:30.

So off we went this morning to "D day".  As per the norm in the medical field, they were running late.  The wait continued.  We finally get called back to the pre-op area and get all prettied up (ha!) and speak with the doctor and everyone else on the floor it seemed.  About an hour later than planned, I go back to surgery.  Last thing I remember was thinking that the table I was on was very narrow and I was glad that I hadn't eaten any cookies the night before and I prayed to God that everything would be okay.  Next thing I know, I wake up in recovery with a splitting headache and I can't see because they haven't given me my glasses back yet. 

Soon after, they have me get up and go to a different room when I try to shake the nauseous feeling and the headache.  While I am in that room, one of my nurses received a visit from her newborn grandson and his parents - and boy did that sting.  They were in the hallway right outside my room and my curtain was open so I could see and hear all of the happy chatter.  My other nurse must have heard and seen what was going on because she came right over and closed my curtain and apologized to us for witnessing that after what I had just gone through.  We told her that it was okay and we understand that life goes on.  Soon after the nurse that had the grandson also came and apologized.  After she left is when I finally lost it.  I try to keep my emotions in check for the most part - but obviously I can't do that this time.

I know that it will take time to heal from this.  I don't know if I will ever completely do so.  Tonight when I was praying with Brielle before bed, I couldn't keep the tears back and I am sure that this is only the beginning.