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??

To exercise faith.

I have always hated Mondays. Monday means back to work after an easy going weekend. Back to work after playing summer days away and not worrying about schedules and house work.

I've found myself in some sort of funk since my period came a week or so ago. Initially I felt excitement, because my body seems to be ironing out it's kinks quickly, but that excitement was followed quickly by sadness. Sadness over many things, actually. Pregnancy used to mean a carefree time that meant a baby in the end. I know better now. Pregnancy can mean the death of a newborn, and pregnancy can mean miscarriages. More than one. I found it easier to accept my first miscarriage after my baby's death, because having a miscarriage is a normal complication. After the second miscarriage, I have found myself thinking about pregnancy again, even if I want it badly, is very distressing. Who's to say I won't have a 3rd miscarriage??

I've consulted with my doctor. He's a good, knowledgeable man. He's been in the profession for over 25 years. He's delivered 3 of my 4 children. He's also seen this struggle come to many women. Unexplainable miscarriages following a string of live births. There's no rhyme or reason. It just happens. While miscarriage may "just happen", I've prayed for inspiration to know if I should be doing things differently. There are hormone levels that need to increase after a pregnancy has begun, if they don't, the pregnancy ends, as the women eventually starts to bleed. I'll be adding some hormone supplements in immediately following another pregnancy. I'm hoping these supplements will help my body with what it should be doing on it's own.

I guess I find myself more realistically thinking about where I'm at, and realizing another baby may not come easily to my family, or may not come at all. I've spent a lot of time praying to know how to move forward. I've been praying to easily recognize my limits, and to know what to share and what to keep quiet.

I find myself coming back to a specific verse found in Matthew, chapter 7, verse 6.

"Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you."

Motherhood is a sacred thing to me. Not because I am religious, but because it's something I have sought after since I was a young child. I have always know the worth of birthing and raising children. I have always wanted and adored children, and felt great worth is creating a family that is my own. I cannot describe that desire so that someone understands. I cannot explain to someone how traumatic it is to live life again, after your baby has died. I cannot explain answer to prayer, and I cannot explain or defend my position on wanting another child, even though it may be a fight to find that dream again. I'm beginning to realize that I don't have to answer or explain to anyone else. I don't have to share or defend what is holy to me, so that another may trample my most sacred dreams. This is a journey unique to me. One in which I feel confident to make the right choices, even if someone else does not understand.

I don't have the answers yet. I don't know what lies ahead. What I do know is this. After huge trials, blessings always come. Those blessings may now always be what we imagined, but they're coming. They're coming for me, for Andrew, and for my children. After huge loss, there is always huge gain.

Elder Richard G. Scott said: “To exercise faith is to trust that the Lord knows what He is doing with you and that He can accomplish it for your eternal good even though you cannot understand how He can possibly do it. We are like infants in our understanding of eternal matters and their impact on us here in mortality. Yet at times we act as if we knew it all. When you pass through trials for His purposes, as you trust Him, exercise faith in Him, He will help you. That support will generally come step by step, a portion at a time. While you are passing through each phase, the pain and difficulty that come from being enlarged will continue. If all matters were immediately resolved at your first petition, you could not grow. Your Father in Heaven and His Beloved Son love you perfectly. They would not require you to experience a moment more of difficulty than is absolutely needed for your personal benefit or for that of those you love.”

More another time...

Love, Misty

Encouraged....

Today is the beginning of something NEW - - - my period came. And it came 2 weeks directly after the dates I marked on my calendar that I suspected I ovulated after my miscarriage. {sigh of relief}

And now we wait another month, and then maybe.... maybe dare to dream again???


xo M.

Waiting....

After miscarriage, both times, since a dead baby, the hardest part for me is waiting for my first period to come. After my D&C in January it took 7 weeks. I'm nearly at 5 weeks now, the second go round. That period (no pun intended) of waiting is very distressing. I feel stuck, and a little angry with my body. I feel like I'm not moving forward. I cope with loss more easily when I can see a time of hope in the future. The standard "waiting" period for pregnancy after a miscarriage is two normal menstrual cycles. I've counseled with my OB, and there are two medications we are going to add in during early pregnancy to help sustain early pregnancy growth. I'm getting pregnant. But I can't STAY pregnant. I find myself scratching my head after birthing 4 children, that I would now have miscarriages. And even though the doctor says "It's normal, it happens, I see it a lot", I'm not so cool with it. Not really at all actually. We've prayed, we're praying, and will continue to pray to know what is right for our family. We will pray to know how to proceed as the next weeks pass, and we pray, mightily, for SUCCESS.

I don't do pregnant friends. I just don't. I have started two of my pregnancies with people I know from church, and both times I'm the one standing there with an empty uterus, while those women's pregnancies have progressed. I distance myself from friends who are trying to get pregnant at the same time, because it STRESSES me out. People think I'm a rude, or a little uncaring, but have you ever done it??? Have you ever had a dead baby, and miscarriages after, and had to have that reminder in your face. And lets be honest, it's awkward. I'm the wrong women to complain to. I'm the wrong woman to talk about being tired to, because your baby is up at all hours of the night. I'm the wrong person to complain to when you don't feel good from morning sickness, or it you're retaining too much water. It's just freaking plain awkward. And trust me, in Mormon-land you CANNOT escape it. Babies are everywhere. Pregnant bellies are everywhere. Crying newborns are everywhere. Church is full of them. My extended FAMILY is full of them. If I have the ability to protect myself a little bit, I do it. Other wise it hurts too much. It's not personal, it's self preservation.

I'm off now in search for FIREWORKS today. The 4th is coming, and I love little more than this holiday spent with my B-F-F across the street, lighting off fireworks for hours at a time. The kids get bored, but not Lisa and I. We've got this down to a science now. So, fireworks, and I should probably start with getting dressed, too....

Until next time.

xo M.

What's your best?

Today marks 14 long, yet incredibly fast-passing months since my beloved Isaac died. I find myself in some what of a box right now after now miscarrying a second after a dead child. I cannot say that I feel more broken, mainly I feel more discouraged. But discouraged with the same resolve to keep in mind that I have been prompted, miscarriages or not, that there are still babies for my family. I don't understand this here and now. I'm tired and worn out by this immense heartache I lug around with me, day in day out. I still feel envious over other women carrying new babies. Envy over women who have had dead babies, and are now realizing the new joy and healing that comes with a new little one to hold, nurture and love. I so want that. With all my heart. That desire does not diminish the love and adoration and gratitude for the children I do have, I simply still have the desire to again, become a mother. I just cannot accept that my last birthing experience will result in a newborn dieing in my arms. There is something new for me. Something new, some day soon, I can only pray. The miracle of it all. Pregnancy is miraculous. Newborns are gifts. I want to shake women who take it for granted. They do not understand that all can be lost. Love your babies. Nurture your children. Be thankful. Please, I beg of you. I, myself, can do better.

What's your best?? Surely what yours is, and what mine happens to be is different. I've spent many a day feeling ashamed for where I am at. I perhaps, have not been as faithful a Christian as others. I have not done as well as others who pray faithfully through their trials and heartaches. I have not been in the church benches ever Sunday, as an outward symbol that I still believe. But. Friends. I have done my best.

I did not, in my most wild dreams, consider that my heartache over a lost, abuse filled childhood, could be trumped. I felt as though I had fought that good fight. I did not question God while I was being molested as a young child. I did not question God as I was smacked around as a teenager, or watched my sister get beaten in the head by the flying fists of my adoptive mother. I heard His voice. My mental health and soul was protected. But this. This. The dead baby, the miscarriages, the desperation, the anger, loneliness, this trumps it all. The heartache, although more easily masked, is still there. The same as it was when my son died peacefully in my arms. I feel it, every day, it is my constant companion. I have struggled to hear God's voice still. I cannot hear His voice as easily as I did when I was a child. I want Him to, I beg Him to, help take this away. I beg, even now as I write this post, to ease this burden. I beg Him to bless us with something new.

Friends, I have done my best. I've lost a couple friends and supporters along the way. I've lost a friend, who I have known for the past 6.5 years, that I have known all along does NOT get me. Her own fear of failure of inadequacies where dropped onto my plate. I let HER down. Her own fear of failure created a problem in our friendship that has caused it's end. Another friend, I expressed doubt in seeing her through a pregnancy, that was closely entwined with both of my miscarriages, we both lost our babies a month apart, we pregnant together, she's going to give birth, I felt my pregnancies pass through my body - - there was no compassion there. I find that compassion and understanding runs out. They run out long before the journey has been walked. I tend to hang on tight, too tightly, to ended friendships. I feel like I should make it right, even at the expense of myself. I've vowed to end that habit. I have to let it go, for my own good. Because, truly, I have done my best. Whether it's been acceptable to the watcher close by, I have done the best that I could do, given these circumstances. My best isn't graceful, or patient, or reasonable, but it's been all that I could give.

God is good. Christ lives. The scriptures will bring peace and healing into your life. When you think you cannot pray, just start talking. Talking to Him. He'll listen. God knows us, His Son stands for us. Keep journeying, on whatever road you're walking, better days are ahead. This is my promise to you, as we both search for it, that we will find it. God bless you as we walk this walk together.

Written words...

I received a letter from a dear friend today. I appreciate her honesty and I appreciate her genuine concern. It almost made me feel like I have my very own Mama looking out for me.

Anyways, she brought up some good points. And she brought up some points I think other people may be concerned about.

This is what I wrote back:

"The internet is a very funny thing. Because people that know me in "real/ day to day" life know that what I put on facebook or my blog is only about 5% of how I feel.

I have a heartache that I carry, that no one can take away. I have frustrations and worries and dashed dreams. While I feel those heartaches nearly all of the time, there is not anyone that truly knows how I am feeling, because I keep those parts of myself very hidden. I have been able to, over the years, and especially now, been able to keep adult feelings separate from my children. What I feel as a woman and mother has nothing to do with my sweet children. I have felt great pride in being able to appear to my children that I am their same old mother. I play. I read stories. I giggle with them. We swim. We talk. We cuddle. I cook. I clean. I bathe them, love them, care for them. To them, I am the same old Mama they have always had.

I wish there was a way to convey to the outside world that I have been able to maintain a level of joy and happiness in my life, in despite of the immense heartache I feel. So many of us have so many hidden hurts and heartaches we carry with us, with out other people being to truly help us or lesson our burdens. I feel like I have done very well that way. I have been able to maintain a healthy relationship and life style for my husband and children. I have never thrown in the towel, stayed in bed all day, let the house go, ignored my children. I have always been very present in their lives, just as I did, before I had a child died and suffered miscarriages.

Honestly, much of my "coping" mechanisms are intertwined with jokes. I don't have an on-going prescription for Xanax. I have not tasted alcohol in 13 years. I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't smoke. Now, that being said. There WAS a time in my life that I did. It was a great (and harmful) tool I used to escape many heart aches I've carried as a child. There are some days that feeling numb appears to be better than what I feel now. Some days I would love to escape. But I don't. I know better than that.

I don't know what the future holds for me. I don't know if I will have have more children. That is a dream I will likely chase, under the careful supervision of my doctors, until I have reason to believe I should let it go. I've been told to wait a certain number of months before we try to conceive again, and we'll abide by my doctors wishes. Going forward we may chose to keep pregnancies or miscarriages private because there is a lot of concern attached. People don't understand what it's like to be in my shoes. People don't understand it's up to Andrew and I to decide what we can handle and what we cannot. It's a very private thing. It's between Andrew, myself, and the Lord. We'll move forward at a pace that is safe. That is healthy, and that is reasonable to my excellent doctor.

I have done my very best to do well by children - - dead babies, miscarriages, or not. While I may vent to the internet world, what I truly keep hidden from so many, I feel very good about who and what I am right now. I have put my family and children first, no matter how much heartache I lug around with me.

And yes, I deleted many people from my facebook account. I need a safe outlet that I can vent with out people questioning my mental health. I need a safe place to vent where someone won't become offended, or doubt in my abilities to continue to rise above the hurt I feel. Life goes on. Some days are good for me, many are sad, even more are both. I can feel many, many things at any given time, and still be what the world would consider to be "ok".

We'll get through. Better days are ahead. Many great things only come through much perseverance. The Lord is mindful of us, and I am trying to be mindful to the way He is directing me to move forward.

I love you, and thank you for caring enough to write.


Love, Misty"