RenovationGirl

Jealous

I hate being jealous.  I simply hate it.  Yet, today and this entire weekend, I find myself feeling jealous.  It's such a negative feeling and not a very Christian "place" to be, and yet, there it is. 

It started Friday with a frantic phone call from a best friend on the way to the beach for the weekend.  It continued with a Fac.ebook posting from another friend on her way to her parent's summer cottage.  Then it was the distant friend announcing her pregnancy...after having two older kids and having said, "We're done!  I don't want anymore!"  Then it was the mountains of papers I have to grade, and student phone calls to make, and hours to work at my retail job while the sun was shining and an excited son waited to go to the pool.

I'm tired of being the screw-up.  I've been working at least two jobs since I was 15.  I work so hard and yet I constantly find myself stressed about our horrible debt.  My house is a continual mess and I can't rely on a housekeeper to help out.  I'm trying to figure out how to add a fourth job to my already heaping plate in order to possibly dig out of this debt hole even slightly.  I don't spend money on clothes or frivolities.  When I do make purchases, they're on clearance and they're not fashion labels.  From the last pregnancy and subsequent blood tests and surgery, I am knee deep in medical bills. 

Don't get me wrong, I know I'm blessed and all, but I still feel so jealous.  Of the friends in my life who don't have financial worries, or have had an easy time having a family, or who can afford housekeepers, or who have been able to stay home with their kids.  I know their lives aren't perfect.  I know they feel pain and suffer loss and have stress.  It just seems through my eyes that my stress is a lot more than theirs.  Sounds childish, doesn't it? 

The hardest part is this-I don't see an end to my stress.  I have gone over and over our finances and don't see a way out unless we win the lottery or one of us gets an amazing job offer.   I never wanted to live this way.  I never thought I would have to.  I work hard and at a lot of jobs.  I don't go on shopping sprees.  I use coupons.  I buy generic.  I watch how we spend the money we have to. 

And it all brings me back to this-THANK YOU, INFERTILITY!  Not only have you robbed me of the family I have always wanted, but you have also taken away a joyful life while I work on paying off the failed attempts at getting said family. 

So, I'm guessing this is the anger part of the grieving process...

I'm Just Sad

There it is.  I'm just sad.  When people ask me how I'm feeling, all I can muster up is, "I'm just sad."  Depending on how comfortable I feel with the person or where we are, this can usually be followed by teary eyes. 

Physically, I'm feeling better.  I still need the occasional ibuprofen, but all in all, the pain is a lot less. 

But I'm just sad.  It's an overwhelming sadness.  I mean, I can enjoy the moment and laugh, but as soon as the moment is over, the smiles fades and the heaviness returns.  I am fatigued and while I know it can still be from the surgery complications, I wonder now how much of it is the sadness.

I know the sadness will fade.  I know I will feel better.  But for now, I'm just sad.  For me, for my husband, for my son, and for the little baby that I did not have the chance to meet. 

Remnants

As I type this, I can easily see the swollen vein covered by the purple, yellow and green bruise.  It stares up at me in alarming fashion.  And even though I am back at work, distracted by the end of year teaching craziness, there it is...a remnant.

These remnants haunt me...they throw themselves in my way at the moments when I finally and unknowingly am free from the sad thoughts. 

As I move about the house, little scraps of paper with my daily blood draw numbers...remnants.

As I turn over in bed, a twinge of pain and a sudden emptiness...remnants.

As I bring in the mail, bills from all the doctor's appointments and surgery...remnants.

As I put the seat belt on in the car and I realize how sore my breasts still feel...remnants.

As I find myself holding back tears over something silly and realize pregnancy hormones are still raging...remnants. 

And yet, as the bruises begin to fade and the petals of the beautiful flowers sent from an amazing friend begin to fall away, so, too, does this potential baby.  The dream of my Christmas baby (did I mention that was my due date?).  All the "signs" and hopes and support that led us to believe that this time could have been it.

I want to be done, and yet, I don't want it to be, because then, it's really over. And I wonder, after all the temporary remnants are gone, what permanent remnants will remain?  And how painful will those be?

A Lego Birthday Celebration

I've been meaning to post about Builder Boy's 6th birthday, which was almost a month ago.  He wanted a party at the house, which although is a lot of work and expense, I have to confess I enjoy.  It allows me to be creative and I don't have to leave the house to do it! 

It had been threatening to rain all day, but about the time the guests started to arrive, the skies cleared. We were able to have the entire party outside.  All of those organized games I created?  Yea, totally didn't do those-the kids were having too much fun just playing.  Builder Boy's preschool class this year is a delightfully kind and close group of kids.  They love one another and just love to be together. So, together they were.  It was a lovely day.  Builder Boy had a blast and was spoiled rotten.  It couldn't have been a better 6th Birthday!

The favors: homemade Lego brick crayons and minifigures, Lego Blox candy, and a bag of Legos all in a "Lego box."

The favor boxes, pinata and cake:

The Pinata: 

Fixing the homemade pinata...clearly I didn't make it strong enough.  (Sorry you have to tilt your head.) 

Cake close-up...Remodel Man iced the cake!!  He did an awesome job!

Candy candy candy!!!! 

 

What a great day and what a great little boy.  Although it's late, Happy 6th Birthday to the best little boy in the  universe!  We love you more than anything, Builder Boy!
 
 
 

Random Thoughts After Loss

I'm home alone right now.  Not a good thing after pregnancy loss #3.  I'm still not feeling well.  I am extremely tired, very nauseated, a bit crampy, and naturally very sad.  This recovery has been much more difficult than the last time.  Perhaps it's the tearing that occurred during surgery or perhaps this body of "advanced maternal age" is just feeling it all more deeply.  Nonetheless, it's been rough. 

Laying around gives you time to think...this is also not a good thing.  But it does call to mind some random thoughts that I've been having. 

1.  I feel blessed.  I watch Builder Boy and know that no matter how bad things get, he is here.  He is our miracle.  He is our "meant to be."  He is an amazing, creative, funny, clever, challenging, loving, crabby, silly, dancing boy.  He is.

2. I will be 38 this fall.  Yes, this is five months away, but it feels like it's now.  I am not one who usually is bothered by her age, but as I close in on the end of my fertile years (yea, go ahead and laugh...fertile?! HA!), I am feeling a bit leary of each new birthday.

3. I am terrified that this pregnancy was a molar.  Complete, partial-it doesn't matter.  The long wait, the weekly blood draws, the constant reminder of what isn't happening-I just can't do it again.  And if it is that, I think that will be the end of our "trying."  And I have very mixed feelings on this.

4.  It makes me crazy when I acknowledge that my file is now marked, "recurrent pregnancy losses."  This happens to other people.  Not me.  Yet, here I am.  And it is me.

5.  I have a pregnant colleague and when I was walking down the hall on my way to my last ultrasound, I thought to myself, "I cannot stand her pregnant face."  This is not a nice thing and it is not me.  She is delightful and glowing and I am happy for her.  But I will live the next 6 months that my belly should be growing watching hers grow.  I will listen to all her happiness while still grieving my own losses.  I am not looking forward to this. 

6.  People keep asking me what they can do for me.  I don't know what to say.  I am not talkative about this.  I don't know what to say.  It sucks.  I'm sad.  I wish I could give someone something to do for me, but I just don't know what that is.

7.  Builder Boy finishes preschool this week.  I was already incredibly sad about yet another milestone, but now it will be much worse.  He is very excited about his new school and for this I am glad.  But it is sad to leave a place you've grown accustomed to.  And I am sad.

Lots of sad...

I'm Okay

I'm okay.  Today went well.  The surgery went mostly well (some tearing in the woohoo because I wasn't dilating-a few stitches up there...).  I have more pain for this D&C than I did last year, so this year, I am indulging and taking the per.co.cet.  Woo, it makes me dizzy!

The nurses and phlebotomists and anesthesiologists were all so nice and compassionate.  I got a little teary and the two nurses in the room at the time let me cry for a bit...really the first time I've been able.  It felt good. 

So now, I'm resting.  Eating lots of bad-for-you foods and drinking caffeine...because I can.  :)

Thank you to those who have sent me their prayers and good thoughts.  Let the healing begin!

Same Story, Different Ending

I used to love the Choose Your Own Adventure books.  The fun of each time picking a different path and different ending was so exciting and cool.  It allowed me to risky, adventurous, and courageous-all things that I wasn't. 

About four weeks ago, I found myself experiencing the same story I did over six years ago.  Amusingly enough, I had just shared this story on here.  Here's how the beginning goes:  A girl schedules laprascopic surgery, girl discovers she is pregnant. 

Now, if I were choosing my own adventure for this, I would make the same choices I made six years ago, resulting in the birth of my adorable, funny, and challenging Builder Boy.  This would be the one time that I wouldn't stray from the same story line.  Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way.

Five weeks ago, I scheduled my surgery.  It was scheduled for May 6th.  A week later, just 4 days before Builder Boy's party, I realized that I had missed my period.  I took a test and voila!  It was positive.  A blood test the next day and every other day for the next four weeks confirmed the pregnancy.  At six weeks, we had an ultrasound that measured smaller than six weeks.  Everything else was fine, so the doctor suggested that my dates were off or I ovulated late.  One week later, now 7 weeks along, we went in for another ultrasound.  This time, there was a sac measuring 5 weeks, 2 days...still too small to see a heartbeat.  One week later, today, I went in for an ultrasound-no heartbeat, unusual growth, and what looks to be chromosomal abnormalities. 

The D&C is tomorrow at 1:30.  My chart now states "recurrent pregnancy losses" as a new cause of infertility.  It seems I have added yet another notch on that ever-growing infertility belt.

So there it is.  Same story, but totally different ending.

Peace and Strength

A friend called last night.  She was having a bad day and needed to vent.  She called me because as she said, she didn't even have to explain what had happened-I had been there and just knew.  We talked for awhile, rehashing the challenges of our married and parenting lives.  We laughed and got ticked.  And I think we both felt better when we got off the phone.

In discussing a situation in my own life with her, I told her that I just didn't know how to pray about it.  Sometimes in life, I am presenting with something and I'm just not sure how to pray.  It's like when I pray before each class with my students-I don't allow prayers that "our team wins today." I make them pray that their team plays well and safely.  I don't want to constantly ask for "things," but I also want God to know where my heart is.  I don't want to make bets because I don't think God is a gambling man (and I usually can't uphold my end of the bargain, either).  So throughout the day, I find myself praying, "Hey, God?  I don't know how to pray about this...this is what I want to have happen, but I'm not sure that's the plan...babble, babble, babble." 

My friend made a suggestion, that instead of this babbling prayer type, that instead, I just ask for peace and strength.  The peace to accept what will happen and the strength to get through.  It's a perfect meditation mantra.  Peace on the breath in, strength on the breathe out. 

I'm trying this prayer today as I wait to get out of this holding pattern I am in.  Peace and strength, peace and strength.