The ins and outs.

I've written this blog post a thousand times over in my head. It's what I think about every day, it's about what pains me all of the time. It's about being in a very different place than most other baby loss mothers I know. I hesitate to share because I worry that it seems like I begrudge someone else their joy, which isn't true at all. It's so different to be a year and a half out from Isaac's death and still have nothing, when every other anencephalic mother I know has a stable pregnancy right now, in face most of those mothers have had their subsequent "rainbow" babies. I still really HATE that term. Women have shared that waiting for those subsequent pregnancies for 4, 5, 6, months have been hard. Try a year and a half. And not only that, try 2 miscarriages and one chemical pregnancy since burying your baby. It's a world of pain, a very different kind of pain. Every time I see a round belly, or a post about pregnancy, or a pregnancy update it causes me physical pain in my heart. It's hard to co-exist in a world where there are reminders EVERY where of what I lost, and of what I want so badly. The world moves on, at it's own pace, and no one has any idea about this immense heartache I carry every moment of every day. You have your do-gooders that tell me move on, to forget about it, to be thankful for what I have. Those do-gooders have no idea the skills God has given bereaved parents to cherish their living children immensely, while at the same time intensely mourning the child they lost. If you have not experienced it, you have no idea. While I was carrying Isaac and knew he would die, even I had NO idea. I had not buried him yet, and learned to live with out him yet. I had not faced more intense infertility and miscarriages after him either. I had no idea a soul could live, even joyfully in the world, and still hurt this badly. It's a God given strength to be able to carry this load, most days I would beg to give it away.

After carefully praying, I have received the answer that is would be the acceptable time to proceed with the Clomid again. I have not decided how quickly I will move forward with that, but I have started again on my low carb, no refined sugar diet, and have given up Diet soda containing caffeine again. From what I can tell there was no ovulation this month, so I am waiting to see if my period comes around on it's own. If it does not, I may wait a couple weeks, and proceed with Provera to induce a period, and then move forward quickly after that. The idea is exciting to me. Every single day I think about a baby. I think about all of the things I would do to prepare. I imagine hearing a baby cry again, after Isaac was silent in his birth and death. I imagine shopping and buying diapers and baby lotion. I imagine seeing my kids hold a new baby again for the first time after their brother dieing. I imagine getting to do all of those tender things again, that I lost in Isaac's death. I imagine the feeling of creating with our Maker, I have loved being pregnant so much in the past. It would be such a blessing, even if a fearful experience, to get to experience that again.

It had been really hard for me having Olivia in preschool. I thought it would get easier, but each time she leaves my heart breaks a little extra. I miss her, even if she is truly enjoying herself. It's been so good for her, I have been so pleased to see her be such a nice playmate. She certainly is the ring master at home, but has learned to be a friend to children her own age. I'm really proud of her, just sad over my broken heart.

The holidays are approaching, and I am do things my way this year. Last year was so heartbreaking, but I have some excitement over Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. I warned my mother in law that I was not attending the huge holiday hooplah, and that I was do my holidays MY way this year. I tried to suck it up and did too much last year, and in the end, it just hurt me more. This year I'm doing things how I want, in hopes of being able to appreciate and enjoy the joy that accompanies this time of year.

Anyways... I'm going to work for a few hours before I have to go pick up my little Olivia. Thanks for reading and listening....


Love, Misty

Trauma!

Friends,

It has been a hell of a month. Ian had surgery at the same hospital Isaac died. Try telling an eight year old he has nothing to be afraid of when he already knows bad things happen.

Hannah attended a puberty class at school and was mortified. Where did the time go???

Olivia's first day of preschool was today, and I was so heartbroken to drop her off. There are no babies at home with me anymore. That is ROUGH.

Isaac died 18 months ago today. Where on earth did the time go?

Metformin does not seem to be working on it's own, having break through bleeding. I'm armed with Provera to start a period and Clomid to make me an egg, but I'm still waiting for the Lord to give me the go ahead. Waiting is hard.

I managed to shoot our own family portraits this year. Have a look.

Until next time, going crazy....

xo Misty


PS: The white bear you see in our photographs is our Isaac bear. That bear is made out of a blanket I had Isaac swaddled in. The black and white is my favorite, with Ian holding Isaac bear out to his side. Makes me cry every time.....

Did I get it right?

I'm a person that's hard on myself. I am painfully aware of my serious faults, and I am painfully aware of how much work it takes to remedy those things. I have had the privilege to follow along while some other women have faced the same challenges I have, and I have been amazed by their strength and faith. I have found myself wondering often if I've done good enough, if I've done it right. I decided to sit down tonight and read through some of my blog posts, and I have found myself comforted by my own words. I may have not traveled this road perfectly, but I have traveled in my own way, my own style, with my own voice, recording my own feelings. I wish I had the ability to have been stronger, but I feel like I did my best. And when I didn't do my best, I feel like the Lord understood why. I feel like, that while I have not been as soft spoken and valiant in the way that I've documented my life, I realize that some people may be drawn to that. And if not, they've passed me by, and that's ok. I've done my life, my way, and with the help of my God, I'll have the strength and courage to continue to grow a little more.

I still have my empty womb. I have done my very best to enjoy where I am at, because I know change is in store for my family. God has whispered that to my soul. I have had a hard time learning that change comes in the Lord's timing, and not mine. I have tried to listen harder, and to obey more quickly. I can't say that I've learned those lessons well or even speedily, but I'm doing my best.

As I laid next to Olivia during nap time this afternoon, my thoughts turned to my Heavenly Father, and I prayed, as best as I could to know WHAT to do. What do I do now, what is His timing?? As the tears slipped down my cheeks, and I felt my heart sorrowing as it has for the past couple years, I prayed for healing. The same healing I have been begging to find for months. And while I am not handed peace in the fullest form, I have learned that I am handed as much as I need to get me through. Enough to keep me afloat, but not enough to take the pain I feel away. For now, it's enough to get me by. For now, I am eagerly waiting for what the Lord has in store, whatever that may be.

I think of my Isaac, and the love and courage that he has filled my life with. I see him in the faces of my children, and I feel him in his memories that fill our home. I know he is busily serving his Maker, but I wish so much he had been mine to keep. Some days I reflect on my life, and I just cannot believe that I have managed to survive this. I may not have flourished, but I have survived.

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. ~ Philippians 4:13


Love, Misty

Shhhhh. I moved.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I moved.

I just spent all morning moving everything over to my new blog. The location is secret, yet still public, and my hope is that you'll follow me there. Email me for the location of my new blog, it won't be listed under my profile.

Tag, you're it.

If you're interested, email me here: abnmln@gmail.com



Love, Misty

Analyze this.

I’m beginning a new chapter in my life. A new chapter that doesn’t include much outside my family. I’ve spent a lot of time analyzing myself, and why I’m not like another person, and I finally have decided it really doesn’t matter. I don’t HAVE to be like anyone else. I’ve never kept a lot of friends. I’m not terribly close with my biological family. I don’t get out much. The very few friends I’ve kept are enough for me. I’m not social in church settings. I don’t have the desire to “know” a lot of people casually. I love being at home. I love spending the majority of my time with my kids and husband. I love decorating and making my home a sanctuary. I love my animals. I love being alone, without the distractions of a lot of different people. I am who I am because of what I’ve lived. I don’t have to expect that other people would value or appreciate that about me. Or even expect that someone would even try to understand why I am the way I am, let alone embrace that. I’m at a point in my life where I just need to be ok with where I’m at. I’ve done my best. The rest is between me, my family, and the Lord.

I’ve been thinking a lot about boundaries. And the need for privacy balanced with the need for support in my life. I’m interested in making new relationships grow with people that are a good match for me - - that list of prospects is really small. I find myself thinking about why I’m involved with one person or another - - when those people are people I REALLY don’t want to share my feeling s with. I’m trying to create boundaries concerning what happens in my life here on out. If I’m able to get pregnant again, I don’t plan on sharing that with a lot of people. I don’t know how much I care share here, because my blog address was shared with people I don’t know well at church. And people talk. I don’t want people spreading my business around church when I’m not ready or willing to share, and trust me, it’s happened before. Just GOING to church is hard enough, I hate wondering who knows more about me than I wished….. Going private is too much work. Censoring what I write about is even more work than that. Apparently maybe I need to just find more to blog about – outside of dead babies and lost pregnancies.

I’ll be anxious to see if we’ve had some success here in a couple weeks. I have a good feeling about it. I’ve prayed, and then prayed again that I can carry a healthy baby to term. I think about what that would mean to me, and mean for my family. It’s overwhelming. We’re just so ready for something new, and something more. I feel like I’ve paid my dues. And those dues have come at a very high price. ……..
I’ll be checking back in before too long……

Love, Misty

Not so calm, cool, and collected.

I kind of go to this crazy place when I'm coming up on a month of trying to get pregnant. I felt good about foregoing Clomid for another month, but when I was notified this evening that my doctor had called it in anyway - - I decided I HAD to get it. The excitement of this being a month I could get pregnant again was immediately followed by the feeling of stress. What happens if the Metformin wasn't enough?? What happens if the Metformin doesn't help me produce mature eggs?? That would be a wasted effort. What happens if I don't ovulate, and have to go back to the wretched hospital to get blood drawn, before the doctor would induce another period?? What if, what if, what if?? I was getting annoyed with the kids (it'd been one of THOSE high stress, boss is on my tail, kids fighting for hours, kind of days), and starting to feel stressed. My headaches are back every day now. I'm sticking with what I know works. And what works is Clomid. Period. And I don't feel badly about getting it, and I'll start taking it tonight. The thought of having to wait one-more-month seems like needless torture. Why stress myself by trying something out I am not sure works?? So. We're at this exact point again. The same point where I got pregnant with Isaac and found out he would die. The same point when I got pregnant after his death,and miscarried in January. The same point when I lost yet another pregnancy in May. I've got to be getting to the point where I can get pregnant, stay pregnant, and bring home another squirming bundle for our family to love. That dream has come true before. It can again. My body can do this. I know it. I just KNOW it.

xo M.



PS: I've gotten some pretty stupid-ass comments on my blog. The last one has me still scratching my head.

WHY do women think you cannot be obsessed with getting pregnant again IN ADDITION to being madly in love with your kids?? WHY do some women think that because I desire for another child, I don't appreciate the children I already have??

For those that know me well, would laugh at those accusations. Let me tell you what having a dead kid does to you. It makes you protect your kids more than you probably should. It makes you baby them more, spoil them a little rotten, let them get away with a few extra things. It makes you more tolerant. It makes you love them more, and appreciate the moments more.

Your regular Mom might complain about being tired, over-worked, and that her patience is out. I still feel the same way, but after every SINGLE thought that I have about my kids - whether it's loving or from an exhausted mind - every thought is followed by: "Father in heaven - - I LOVE these kids, I am SO happy to have them". So if you're mistaken - - - and think I don't have enough attention to spare my children that I already have AND focus on getting pregnant at the time - - you're DEAD wrong. I got this. Now go tell someone else how to live their lives, I've got mine covered.

I've thought about writing several blog posts over the last couple weeks. I had them all written out in my head. And just didn't have the energy to put them on the computer.

I started my period on Saturday. Another full cycle. I ovulated on my own. This is excellent progress. It looks like I may not need Clomid. The Metformin, which I take to aide my fertility, appears to be enough. I hope anyway. Women on Clomid typically take that medication on day 5 through 9 of their cycle. Which would mean starting THIS Wednesday, and I found myself frantically thinking - - should I, shouldn't I, what if the Metformin isn't enough?? I figured I better hit my knees in search of help to make a decision, and I have decided to let it be for this month. We'll allow for conception, but with out taking the additional medication. I've given up Diet Coke and sugar. I'm on my (4 freaking) pills of folic acid a day to prevent another neural tube defect, and I'm eating up my prenatal vitamin every night before bed. I feel prepared. But also resigned to the fact that I'm merely along for the ride. In the end, God decides. God took Isaac home with him, and God wrapped up my last two pregnancies right after they'd just begun. Pregnancy doesn't necessarily mean a baby, now does it?? All I have is a little hope, and the stubbornness to keep after one of my greatest dreams.

Summer has been incredibly busy. Work has taken a lot of my time. Being a mother has taken even more time than that. I love it. I love being a mother and watching (even if it hurts) my children growing. I spend parts of the day reflecting on my pressing goal to eat them up every day. I know, perhaps, their may not be more babies for me. I know that I have been immensely fortunate to have been entrusted with three living children, and I know there is so much of their childhood's left to enjoy. The thought "make today count" runs through my mind constantly. Right now is all that I can count on. Right now is all that I know I have.

I have been so fortunate to have my best friend, also be my neighbor for the last 6.5 years. I have been fortunate to know the true meaning of friendship in her. I have been thankful to her that she's been able to weather the emotions and madness I've at times brought to the table, linked with my childhood. I have been thankful she's been able to accept my "I messed up, I'm sorry" over the years. I'm glad I've been able to accept hers to me in return. I remember someone counseling me before, when I was struggling to understand adult relationships as a twenty year old, that any person is lucky to find one or two TRUE friends in their life time. That has been very true for me. I've been fair enough friends with many people over the years, but life happens. We've gone our separate ways over long distance, or disagreements, or life changes. Over kids, over scheduling conflicts, or disinterest.

I come with a lot of baggage. I have a lot of shit on my plate. I can't say, after having a dead child, that I am less crazy, because I am MORE crazy. Some times I push people away. Some times I fear being rejected again. I don't trust easily. But what I do DO well is LOVE. I am strait forward and honest about my feelings, and I have an ability to be loyal and honest with where I'm at. People walk away though. I know it's been a common occurrence, when people have lost and are grieving hard, friends walk away. People can't deal with your shit. People can't deal with the depth of loss and the sorrow that follows. It makes me feel like a failure. When people walk away that I love, I feel like I'm that little kid again, when my parents didn't even love me enough to stick around. I feel worthless. And I feel like I must be REALLY bad at human relationships. I am who I am because of the life I have lived. I am who I am because of the abuse and losses I have been dealt. I find most people just don't want to invest in someone that's maybe not got all her emotional shit together. And THAT would be why I really LOVE to be alone. THAT would be why I love to stay home, with my kids, and my husband, and keep everyone else at bay. I don't have to have the pressure on me to be that perfect someone that another won't walk away from. I. Have. Worth. And I am worth it. I am worth someone eles's friendship and patience.

My best friend Lisa is opening her home to foster children. This woman. Let me tell you. She is a HELL of a woman. She's had some hard knocks in life. She's been husband-less and childless for her entire life. She's longed for that for years, tolerated that I had what she wanted, and we have loved each other in despite of our faults. I have been privileged to watch her walk this new journey, and pleased to see her joyous over opening her home to another. We've talked a lot about the training she is receiving. It's been in depth and heartbreaking. There are so many children that are abused and suffering. It's been really hard for me to re-visit those feelings that I had (and still do) over my childhood. I remember how it felt to grieve over parents who left me. I remember the distress of being molested and abused. I still easily access the distress and heartache over being raised in a loveless, abusive home. It's rough. You wonder how kids ever make it to adulthood partially ok. The amount of pain a child can feel is indescribable. I know. Because I felt it. And I live my life today, trying to overcome, the wrongs done to me that I had no control over. Children are innocent. The damage done to children changes who they are, it changes their souls. It's heartbreaking. And that doesn't even begin to describe it.......

I better get off of the computer. The children are wondering if I'm starting a novel - generally my posts aren't this long.

On with life, shall we??