9.26.17
A situation that happens often, when people find out I am pregnant, and don't know me well, is the question "Is this your first baby?"
It's an honest question. I can't be offended by it. My knee jerk reaction, is to say "yes."
But then I punish myself in my mind for this knee jerk reaction. I say it because it's easier. Because these people don't know me. They don't want to know that I have an angel baby. Or maybe they do, but the former is what I think. I do sometimes tell people, when I feel comfortable. For example, I have told a few of my patients about this pregnancy. I feel comfortable telling some of them my history. I know very intimate things about them. I suppose because of this, I feel safe sharing my intimate things.
I wish I could wear a pin, a universal sign, so people would know. However, then conversations wouldn't happen. I do wear a necklace, with a cross, and small circular symbol that has a "C" on it. My sister-in-law gave it for me for my birthday.
I lost Charlie just before Mother's Day. A similar question, that I have a similar knee jerk reaction to, is, "Do you have any children?" I consider myself a mother. Anselm and I celebrated Mother's Day this year. Again though, I sometimes answer this with "not yet." I do though. Now I truly have children. Plural. I have one in heaven, and one growing inside me.
9/18/17
My days are filled with doubt and fear. I have been clinging to God to squash these emotions.
After I lost Charlie, I did what any completely irrational, emotion struck, type A personality would do; I dove headfirst into things I thought would help me heal, and would help me get pregnant again, and deliver this time.
The PT in me, looked to diet and exercise, to make sure my body had the right building blocks to support new human life. Prenatal vitamins, more vegetables, less coffee and less alcohol.
The Catholic in me, signed up for daily devotional emails from Blessed is She. Scripture everyday will help for sure. I am also partaking in a 40 day online retreat through one of my favorite podcasts, The Catholic Feminist.
And I had no problem getting pregnant again. Praise God! But oh, these 9 months (hopefully?) will be a daily test of faith. Even writing that sentence I was doubting that Peanut and I will make it.
And then, on top of this daily inner struggle...what about everything happening in the country and in the world? Texas and Florida have just been rampaged by hurricanes. People need basic things. They need shelter. God is very busy. Am I so selfish to continue to struggle and pray just for me and my family?
Say a prayer with me today. God, let me trust in you, quiet my fears with your grace, and help those who are suffering keep their eyes on you as they heal and rebuild. Amen.
9/14/17
8 weeks and 2 days. Size of a jelly bean.
Anselm and I got to see the priest who officiated our wedding over the weekend. He has been studying in Rome over the last year. He gave me a blessing for Peanut. I have been praying all the time for Peanut to grow.
A second priest, the one who helped us through the miscarriage of Baby Charlie, was also there at this dinner party. He said he was "ecstatic" to hear the news. I am too, Father.
Father Andrew helped us arrange everything, and said a funeral mass before Charlie's remains were buried at Holy Cross cemetery. This was so special. Some closure for me. Made his tiny life so dignified. He was a real person, a soul that should be mourned just like any that lived on Earth. I highly recommend this to anyone, Catholics of course, but even if you are not Catholic, have a memorial to your baby. Name him or her. Because these tiny babies, the ones 1 in 4 women "lose", are people. Souls.
It doesn't matter if you don't know if your baby is a him or her. Decide for yourself. I had a feeling that Charlie was a boy, so we went with it. After the testing on Charlie's remains, it was confirmed for us he was a boy. This was after the mass, after he was buried.
9/6/17
I know. This one is out of order. I'm new to this blogging thing.
I had an ultrasound today. See below. Baby #2. Peanut, has a heartbeat. Relief. 7 weeks.
9/7/17
Anselm texts me, "Don't be too sad when you come home and see the formula samples that came in the mail today."
He's sweet.
This is what this blog is about. The rollercoaster of emotions. There are days I am still so sad about Charlie. I guess that's not true. I wouldn't say there are whole days anymore, but moments definitely. And the thing is, I have plenty of people to talk to, but I feel like I would be talking to them all the time, and people would get sick of me. I can't keep it bottled up though. Maybe I'm just writing these posts, and I'll never publish them. Who knows.
The joy on people's faces though when they hear the news of Peanut, (this is Baby #2's nickname) is amazing though. I hope I look as joyful when I am telling them.
9/9/17
Saturday morning. One of my very best friend's is having a 1st Birthday party for her son today. I'm excited to celebrate him, he's just started walking.
I suppose I told you that really because I was thinking about different people's stories. I can't tell them as well as they would themselves, but I was thinking about it.
I, apparently, have no problem getting pregnant. This close friend, did. They did not go through any treatment or anything, but it took some time. When they stopped trying, and tracking, there it was, a positive test. Now he's one year old!
Another very close friend has gone through a few rounds of clomid and IUI. No baby. So, what do you do? Take a break, refocus on other joyful things. Consider adoption? Pray.
Another friend, more distant than these first two, has been trying for over a year. She miscarried one early, and then went to an acupuncturist who specializes in fertility. She's pregnant now, out of her first trimester I imagine. I pray for her often.
I don't really want to group stories into categories, because gosh, it's all terrible. The heartbreak you feel whether you carry a baby for 6 weeks or 17. Or if your period comes every month for a year of trying to have a baby. I just want everyone to talk about this more. All the struggle, no matter how big or small. Infertility sucks. We should all help each other through it.
