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From My Heart

March 10th, 2007

Thank you for the emails and comments you have sent.   They mean so much to me.   It is amazing to see the love and sympathy of so many strangers.

Physically I am doing ok.   Emotionally I am not so good.   This isn’t the sort of thing you ever expect to happen, and even if you  have known  friends  who have lost a baby, the true impact is impossible to imagine unless it happens to you.   I have had several friends and acquaintences who have miscarried, but before now, however awful it may have seemed, it was nothing compared to the empty pain I am now feeling.   My belly is swollen from the contractions Thursday night  and the saline IV, my hormones are still confused about what’s going on, and my heart is broken.

If there has to be something good to come out of all of this, it is the fact that Casey and I have been brought closer than ever.   We have spent many hours talking about how we feel, crying in each others’ arms, praying, asking questions  and, alternately, staring off into space and trying to forget it all.   He has been my rock in these last few hellish days.   He is an amazing man, full of a love and compassion that I hadn’t ever seen the depths of until now.   To see his hurt and pain makes it real to me that this precious child was already an emotional part of our family.

My emotions are all over the spectrum right now.   Some are healthy and some are not.   I am angry, I am sad and bewildered.   I am scared, confused and numb.   I don’t want to talk to anyone I know about it, except Casey.   I am dreading our trip to Casey’s  brother’s wedding, simply because I don’t know if I can stand any extra-long, sympathetic hugs from our family.   I want to eat and drink so much that I can’t feel anything.  And I want to never eat again because maybe then I can shrink and disappear.   I know that there are so many things that are so much worse that could happen to a family, and yet if someone else says that to me, I  might strangle them.   I want to go out dancing and be beautiful and pretend I was never pregnant.   I want to crawl into the shower and let the hot water beat over my head for an hour until it washes away the pain.   More than anything, though, I want everything to be fine again, and be pregnant again with the little child that was going to be born in October.

Kenny, thank God, doesn’t understand anything of what happened.   He is, in fact, sick today with a little viral infection that he undoubtably picked up in the eight hours he spent in the ER on Thursday night.   He is happy as ever though, even throwing up and exhausted.   He is an angel.   A gift.   The child we weren’t sure that we could ever even have.   And I am comforted by that.   And I am comforted to know that nothing I can ever go through on this earth can come close to separating me from the love of the Father.   No pain I have felt is foreign to Christ, who bore  the pain of all generations so that we might belong to his Kingdom in Heaven.   God knows exactly how I feel, good and bad, and He knew that all of this would happen, even before any of it did.   His story is bigger than mine, and His Word is always true.   Even as I mentally beat my head against a wall, I know that He is there, holding me in His arms.   And He is holding my child in His arms, too.

From Kristjana’s Husband

March 8th, 2007

Hello Everyone:

I am so saddened to write this update.    I had to bring Kristjana to the ER early this evening.   We lost the baby.  

I would appreciate your prayers for Kristjana.   She had a very rough evening, and the doctors have admitted her for at least one evening because of pain.   Kenny and I just got home.   The little guy is resting comfortably now in  his crib.  We’ll be back over to the hospital in the morning.

Kristjana struggled on whether to announce she was pregnant before the 12 week mark.   She struggled more whether to share and write about the pain and symptons she was experiencing the past 7 days.   Even with our little one ending up in heaven way too soon, I am glad she did write.   Your emails and comments were good therapy to Kristjana and, so it seems, to many other people as well.  

I believe in sharing good news, even if the news is as delicate as a pregnancy.   That way friends and family, and  blogger friends can be praying along with us.   We will be grieving the loss of this precious life, and praying for another opportunity to share with you that another life is on it’s way.   It is difficult, but especially during a night like this I hang on to my favorite verses, Rejoice in the Lord always.   I say it again, rejoice.   Let your gentleness be evident to all.   The Lord is near.   Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and thanksgiving, present your requests to God, and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus…. Amen.

Rejoicing in the Lord, albeit with a heavy heart…….

Casey

The Other Side of the Story

March 7th, 2007

There is something that I’ve been aching to write about for weeks now, but something has been holding me back.   Protocol?   Tradition?   Appropriateness?   Superstition?   Well, I need to throw all that out the window, if only for the sake of my sanity; because I need to write about this.

So here’s the really AWESOME, FABULOUS news…

I’m pregnant!!!!!

And here’s the other side of the story.   I’ve been in a state of what the doctors call a “threatened miscarriage” for the last six days.   So please stop reading if you don’t want the details.   This isn’t going to be the normal humorous, heartwarming post I usually strive to write.

I started bleeding on Friday night.   It was not much, but bright red and some mild cramping soon followed.   The OB I was able to contact after-hours said, “It sounds like you’re having a miscarriage.   You can go to the ER if you want, but they can’t really do anything for you.   I’d stay home and rest.”   So Saturday dawned with much less blood, and as the day went on, I was more and more optimistic.   Until Kenny’s dinner time when the pain came on so bad, I called the doctor again, who this time was a little more in favor of going to the emergency room.   So Casey and I put Kenny to bed, and with my parents (who were visiting) there to stay with Kenny, we drove the four miles to our brand new Scottsdale hospital.

In the seven hours we were there, I had six viles of blood drawn, an IV inserted, a pelvic exam, a half hour of ultrasounds (which included a cathater to inflate my bladder so that they had a “better view”   Yeah, that was fun) where they saw that not only was the baby there with a strong heartbeat, but that everything else looked normal too!, another consult with the doctor on call, and then an hour and a half wait for the Rhogam shot to arrive (since I am Rh negative) and to be administered by the right person in the right cheek of my arse.   So we arrived home after midnight, exhausted and hopeful.

Sunday was uneventful: the bleeding continued, but at a slightly slower rate.   It got worse again in the evening, but wasn’t as bad as it had been Saturday night.   Monday morning, Casey and I drove to the OB’s office just as they opened, to deliver my file from the ER, and to schedule an appointment.   Angels that they are there, the nurse saw me right away, and did another ultrasound, again confirming that the baby was fine, and that everything else looked fine as well.   I was instructed to rest as much as possible off my feet (yeah, Kenny got a kick out of that Doctor’s order…), and was given a prescription for Progesterone – one of those things that doesn’t hurt, but won’t necessarily help.

By the time I got home and took the hormones, then  said goodbye to my folks,  then laid down, I was bleeding more heavily and barely able to keep my eyes open (a result of the progeterone).   Casey stayed home most of the day, taking care of Kenny and Dudley.   He put Kenny down for a nap just before he had to leave for a lunch meeting, and I dozed on the couch.   He picked up groceries on the way home, and again took care of Kenny and Dudley so I could rest for the remainder of the evening.   Yesterday was the worst day yet, though.  

Casey again worked from home most of the day (which didn’t include much working for him; he had his hands full with our household).   By Kenny’s dinner time, I was doubled over in bed, counting the cramps, which by then were more like contractions, and assuming the worst was already occuring.   Casey brought me dinner in bed ~  a masterpiece three-courser, with salad, homemade speghetti and then chocolate creme pie for dessert ~ and we watch mindless TV and talked in between tears and prayers.   When I fell asleep, I sort of made up in my mind that the miscarriage was underway, and made myself be at peace with that.

This morning I felt 100% better.   The bleeding was still heavy, this time with  much  more clotting, but the cramps were gone.    Casey (and Kenny!) and I went to the doctor at 3:30 for another exam and ultrasound.    Kenny  flirted shamelessly with all the nurses and receptionists, and Casey and I were  a nervous calm.   The doctor didn’t waste time with questions.   “Let’s take a look, and then we’ll talk, ok?” and there it was… .our little fighter was still there!   The heart was  pounding,  the  placenta looked healthy and there was no evidence of any polyps or tumors.   We talked about what could  be causing the bleeding, and what that could mean for us now.  

Our doctor was extremely hopeful, without being irrational.   She said  that though it’s rare,  she has seen women bleed like this, and still carry a healthy baby to term.   The trick is to stop the bleeding.    Once I had four or five days with no blood, I could resume “normal” activities… exercise, running around with Kenny, housekeeping,  etc.   But  until then, I’m supposed to stay off my feet as much as possible.   And I’m not allowed to fly… a heartbreak because Casey’s brother Dave is getting married next weekend in Florida, and I don’t think there has ever been a wedding (ok, besides mine and  Casey’s!) that was  more joyfully anticipated.  

But I’m still pregnant!!!   I have no idea when I’m due.   I never had a normal cycle, so though the calendar says October 8, the sonogram measurement says October 22.   We shall see.   For now, all I can do is take one day at a time.

So I need to be able to write about  this.   I promise not to go into the clinical details anymore.   But I need to be able to talk about how this is making me  feel, how it’s affecting my family.   How can I spend day after day not taking Dudley on his jaunty walks?   Not racing around with Kenny in the park?   Not picking him  up and holding him all day when he wants.   Not cooking up fancy dinners  for Casey and I, or rollerblading, or vacuuming, or folding laundry?   I know that I need to rest for the baby.   But I’m saddened by the toll this will take on Casey and Kenny.   My  doctor  says that once the  bleeding stops,  I’ll  no longer be high-risk, so  I have to remember that.   And Casey has proven himself to be a Man among men; he has fixed meals, cleaned the kitchen, taken care of Kenny and put his own work aside during the day as much as he can to take care of me.     God made the perfect man for me in Casey, there is no doubt.   I’m forever grateful.

Even now, though, I know that there’s no guarentee that the baby will survive the first trimester.   And even now, I’m cramping again for sitting up so long.   So I’m going to lay down, and keep praying for  the best.    I’ll update again as much as I can.

Is there anyone else out there reading this who has gone through this?   It helps to know that this can happen, and that there can still be a healthy little baby at the end of the road.  

The Gourmand (As Yet Unrefined)

March 5th, 2007

Kenny is a very good eater.   In fact, he will eat most everything you put in front of him, with very few exceptions.   But, like any toddler, he is going through the “single food phase” week by week.   This week (and last week) it happens to be a request for cereal  at every meal: Honey Bunches of Oats, which he calls, “Dada Cereal” (because that’s what Casey often has for breakfast) and Frosted Mini Wheats, which he calls, “Papa Cereal” (because that’s what Casey’s Dad often has for breakfast).

We’ve been out of Dada cereal for several days now, so when Casey came home with some after a grocery run, Kenny was nearly quivering with excitement, and of course, that’s all he wanted for dinner.   That is, until he saw the edamame that Casey and I were eating.   Then it was “BEANS!” which he wanted to eat in between each bite of cereal.   (blech!)   Then he saw Casey eating rice and demanded a chopstick-ful of that to go with each bite of the  edamame and cereal.   And he washed it all down with “appa-orange-juice-with-ice.”

At least he said, “please!”

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Speaking Of…

March 3rd, 2007

“The Mommy Back Home” just started her own blog, called Half My Heart.   Congratulations and good luck, Kimmie!

Speaking of blogging, “Mommy Blogging” in particular, this is a good time to reflect on how theraputic writing a blog has been for me.   Journaling is one of the best ways to produce an outlet for your thoughts, feelings and emotions, as well as to  hone your communication skills and writing style.   But Blogging gives the journal a whole new dimension: an audience.   As any writer knows, a good author always has an audience in mind; with a blog, your audience isn’t imagined, but real and tangible.   Blogging gives you an opportunity not only to let your thoughts spill out, but also to learn control: do you really want to write that?   Is there a better word to use to describe how I feel?   Some bloggers use the web as a free-zone to use as much profanity as they can think of (you’d be surprised how many Mommy Blogs out there are so peppered with the F-word that they should come with a parental control), but most use their blogs to express themselves in a way that their children can someday be proud of.   Can you imagine having a nearly daily account of your own babyhood, writen by your Mom, to read someday when you have a child of your own?   Consider it!   I hope that I can give a book to Kenny one day that he can read and see how much his Dad and I love him, as well as read about all the circus-like antics we put up with!

So get out there and write!    Think of the laptop as the new therapy couch…  

To The Mommy Back Home

March 1st, 2007

My sister’s husband arrived today in the Middle East for his second deployment since the Iraq war began.   (I’m not writing where specifically, for obvious reasons.)   Though a Naval flight officer, he will be serving with an Army unit for the next seven months.   My sister waits at home with her two daughters, Kaitie and Kristen, ages 4 and 3:

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   I have to admit that I don’t fare well when Casey is away on business for two nights, and I cannot begin to imagine kissing my husband goodbye for the better part of a year.   I think of how Kenny asks about “Dada” all day, asking when he’s coming home, if he’ll play his guitar, and if they can play hide and seek.   I think of those nights when Casey has had to work late, or been out of town, and  when I put Kenny to bed, how I can just tell that he’s waiting and delaying going to sleep, just in case Daddy’s about to walk through the door.   I can’t fathom having to explain to my child that Daddy’s not going to be back until next fall.   I can’t even comprehend sitting down, after the kids go to bed, night after night alone.The movies make it seem so romantic about the faithful housewife keeping the homefires burning, bravely raising the kids, and loyally waiting for the day her handsome sailor walks back through the front door.   But I think it’s anything but romantic, and anything but a fairytale.   I think it’s mean, heartbreaking and sad to take a husband and father away from his wife and kids for seven months.     And yet I support the US effort in Iraq and Afghanistan.   I support our President.   As much as I hate to see that my little sister is suffering while her husband leaves to  serve, I’m grateful for what he’s doing and proud that he is standing with so many others to fight for what is right.

I wish I could write an entire essay in tribute to my sister, and all the other military spouses who have been left behind, but all I can say is simply,

Hang in there, I love you, and I’m praying for you all.

Chris March 1.jpg

Road Block

March 1st, 2007

Casey and I went out on a date again tonight… Yee HAA for another set of grandparents being in town.   It was a lot of fun: good food, cool atmosphere, handsome date.   We went on the early side to a trendy little spot, and by the time we paid the check, we  realized that it was only 7:15.   Wait.   Didn’t we used to be hip?   Didn’t Casey once pick me up for dates at 7:15?   We  tried to stretch it out by going to Starbucks for  coffee, but we still got home by 8:30.    

What does this mean?    Am I  suddenly a dowdy, dull suburban housewife?   Is  Casey stuck foerever with a woman on an eighteen-month-old’s time schedule?   It’s 9:30 now and I’m already in pjs, face washed, teeth brushed, and keeping my eyelids open with toothpicks.   Where are those days gone by when I’d be  getting ready to go out dancing  at this hour?   My goodness, for five years after college I worked in the theater… at 9:30 I’d be only halfway through the second act of a play, getting ready  for the curtain call so I could go out and find something to eat!   Where did that me go?

I wouldn’t trade this life for anything, don’t misunderstand.   But tonight, I suddenly feel…. well…. boring.   Not bored, that’s different.   Just kind of like a faded flower of what was once a wild and energetic youth.   When did going to sleep start seeming like an exciting part of the day?   When did I start getting jealous that Kenny got to go to sleep at 7?   Oh woe.   I’d write more, but I’m really just too ready for bed…

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