I’ll Probably Get My Period After Posting This

I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

I’m 11 dpo today. My LP is usually 9 days. All tests have been negative.

I don’t really have any good reason to think we could be pregnant on our own after everything…. Still, here I am, obsessively testing and getting my hopes up. It’s early to be testing, I know, even though I’m technically two days late.

I’m driving myself crazy, willing negative pregnancy tests to JUST. BE. FUCKING. POSITIVE. Or for AF to show her ugly face sooner rather than later, if that’s the end game.

I hate the fucking mind games that come with TTC. But I can’t not try. I’m not ready to be done yet.

UPDATE: The witch showed up bright and early the morning after I wrote this. #toldyouso

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The Post That Almost Wasn’t

During the last week, I’ve started and trashed about 6 different blog posts. I keep thinking I have something to say, but when I try to say it, it just seems… trite. Yet, things are still trying to get out, so here are the main points:

  • I’m doing okay. Not great. Sometimes good. Mostly just okay.
  • I’m not going to therapy, and I keep forgetting to do my tapping, but I have been engaging in self-care, like a weekly yoga class, fun nights out without the kid, and getting a new tattoo to memorialize our daughter.
  • C is all kinds of awesome! She’s 2.5, and literally every day she says or does something that makes me think, “Who is this little person, and where does she come up with this stuff?”
  • C is not an awesome sleeper. In fact, she’s terrible. Always has been. When she was a baby, I had hopes that she would grow out of it, but I don’t think that will happen. People tell me, “Just wait until she’s a teenager and you’re having to drag her out of bed in the morning!” All I can think is, “Bring. It. On.” I would love that situation RIGHT NOW. But something tells me that will never happen. I wasn’t like that, and given everything I’ve seen since her birth, I don’t think she will be, either. I don’t know if she’s “just” high needs, or if there’s a medical problem we might be missing.
  • C is rocking potty training. I’d say she’s pretty much fully day trained. (Can I just say, I’m constantly in awe of the size of the poop that comes out of her every day. Not just the total amount, but the ginormous pieces. It’s unreal.)
  • I’m so over winter. We received a stupid amount of snow early on, and though we’ve had quite a few warm days recently, there’s still so much of it. Where the lawn is bare, it’s soaking wet, and there’s water standing everywhere. Puddles are great in the summer, but not when it’s 40 degrees. So, playing outside is not much fun, even when it’s warm.

More Sad Ramblings

I’m finding it almost impossible not to think about the alternate universe I could be living in right now if I had not lost my baby.

Instead of hauling heavy boxes up two long flights of stairs to set up for a work event, I would be wrapping up projects and briefing my coworkers who would be covering for me during my maternity leave.

Instead of crying over random baby items I (still) find stashed around the house, I would be purposefully and happily unboxing all the baby stuff from storage.

Instead of dreading having lunch with a friend who is also parenting with infertility, fearful that she may have “news” to share with me**, I would be excited to catch up with her and find out if they had decided on a FET date. 

I honestly don’t know if it’s healthy to let myself have these thoughts or not, but I don’t think I could stop them. Is it part of the grieving process, or is it hindering the process? I don’t know. They aren’t all-consuming thoughts, though they usually trigger a crying episode. I know I should be kind to myself right now, but having written this down, I now feel kind of pathetic. But, man, reality hurts so much right now.


** Damn, I hate when my instincts are right. She learned she was surprise pregnant from her pre-transfer bloodwork. I’m happy for them, but…. well, you know.

February

It’s February.violet-275x300

Breathe….

Ten days from now is my due date. (Was my due date? I suppose past tense is more appropriate.)

Breathe….

I keep thinking, If I can just get through it… Once February 11 is in the past, things will get better… easier.

The passage of time dulls grief, that I know for certain. But my grief is complex. All grief is, but what I’m referring to is the grief over not only the loss of my baby, but the how and the why, plus the grief over the loss of the family I had hoped we would have.

Every day, when I drop my daughter off at daycare, I see her interact with the other kids. For a few brief (but heartbreaking) moments, I watch her sit patiently as one of the younger girls “helps” my daughter take off her coat and boots. I see her make silly faces at one of the babies, and gently replace a pacifier like a pro, while I talk to the daycare provider. I’m barely holding back tears as I slip out the door to go to work. C would have made a wonderful older sister. Being an “only” will be great, too, I know – and C will never know any different – but it breaks my heart that she won’t get to be a sister.

While I have never for one moment regretted our decision to terminate the pregnancy, and even though I was treated with such care and compassion during the procedures, it remains a traumatic experience. And I still can’t get over the why. Why did this happen? I was on 2mg of folic acid, five times the normal recommendation for a pregnant person, and the exact same amount I took while pregnant with C. Why wasn’t that enough this time?

I’m holding on to a lot of shit. Shit that I can’t control. Shit that is irrelevant now. I’ve been holding on to the illusion that once my due date is in the past, all of that shit will dissipate, like magic. But that’s stupid. It’s not a magical date, and the universe just doesn’t work that way. I wish it did. I wish we didn’t have to do so much goddamn work to deal with our grief.

 

2017: Please Be Kind to Me

2016 was a personal worst year ever. I lost a good friend to suicide just a couple days before I learned we would lose our baby girl. It doesn’t matter that plenty of good things happened in 2016. I won’t remember them. I already don’t remember them.

2017 was supposed to be the year we completed our family.

2017 is the year I turn 40 – the age at which my husband and I decided long ago would mark the end of our baby-making journey, whether we had a baby or not.

2017 could still be a good year. Great, even, if I manage to get pregnant. But, I’ll settle for good. It could be good if I:

  • Love myself.
  • Come to terms with all the shit recently bestowed upon me.
  • Take care of myself, physically and emotionally.
  • Remain open to the good that can and will happen.

I guess those are sort of my resolutions, though I’m not typically a resolutions sort of person. These are things I need to do, though. They aren’t really optional, unless I want to have a very bad year.

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Getting Duped By Hope

I know this was only my first full cycle after my loss. I know we didn’t really try to get pregnant. I know it takes time to for one’s cycle to return to “normal” after a loss.

Still, I was devastated to get my period today.

I decided at the start of my cycle to use OPKs to have at least a general idea of what my body was doing or trying to do. I didn’t get a positive until CD 26, and we didn’t have sex until the day after that. Not avoiding trying to get pregnant, but certainly not making a valiant effort. Assuming I ovulated the day after that positive OPK (probably, since I also had fertile cervical fluid at that time), good old Aunt Flow’s arrival today means my luteal phase was a whopping 7 days. Or I didn’t ovulate at all, I suppose. Either way, it’s shit.

I had no right to hope for anything better than that, to be honest. I mean, back when we were TTC the old fashioned way, I always ovulated late-ish, around CD 20. And my LP was only 10 or 11 days long. So, not too far off from this cycle. Expecting my cycle to magically morph into that of a normal fertile person is simply ridiculous. Yet, I think subconsciously maybe I did expect it. Or at least I had hoped for it. You read so many stories about previously infertile women spontaneously conceiving, especially after a loss. Why couldn’t I be one of them? Didn’t I deserve to be one of them? Damn hope, once again reeling me in.

I don’t know where to go next. Maybe I would be happier not testing or tracking my cycle until we decide to really try to get pregnant (as unlikely as it may be). In fact, I know that’s what I should do. I should shut it down and not give it another thought until after the holidays. I should just enjoy Christmas with my family and work on healing my mind and body. Should….

Potty Training

Because life goes on….

Of all the parenting decisions we’ve made in the last 2.25 years, potty training has been one of the most difficult. All around me, parents are talking about “readiness” signs, like hiding to poop (need for privacy), communicating that they need to pee/poop (or already have), ability to take their clothes on and off (pants, at least), and a handful of other signs. When I read these lists, it wasn’t clear to me if my daughter was ready or not, and the last thing I wanted to do was force her to do something before she was ready and forever scar her.

Then I found Oh Crap! Potty Training. Actually, I first heard the author interviewed on my favorite podcast, and I liked what she said. She dismisses the whole idea of “readiness,” pointing out that in her experience, waiting until kids are “ready”(usually around age 3) is too late. For some reason, it becomes harder to teach them how to use the toilet if you wait until you see the typical signs. Instead of “readiness,” she advises to consider whether your child is capable of learning how to use the toilet. There aren’t concrete signs, necessarily; it’s something each parent has to determine on their own. Also, in the author’s experience, age 20-30 months is the prime time to potty train with the greatest success. At 27 months, C was right in the zone.

After listening to the podcast, I bought the book and dove right in. The author outlines her method, which isn’t complicated by any means, but requires determination, focus, and commitment on the part of the parent(s). I decided that (American) Thanksgiving weekend would be the best time to start, since I would have 4 days in a row at home with my daughter. I told her daycare provider, and she agreed that C was more than ready, and wished us luck.

I won’t go into detail (you’re welcome), but I will say that it was very, very intense and exhausting those first few days. The first day is literally watching your pantless child for signs that she needs to pee or is in the process of going, and getting her to the toilet ASAP. You can’t look away for a second! Even though things clicked fairly quickly for C, it was still tiring and disappointing when she didn’t make it in time and I had to clean up yet another mess. But, by the end of that first day, she actually initiated peeing on the toilet herself! It just kept getting better from there. Her first day back at daycare was a disaster, but only because they do things differently there. Now that she has learned the ropes, she stays (mostly) dry all day long. The times she isn’t dry are primarily because the daycare provider couldn’t help her in time, or because…

….Poop. We’re still working on that one, 11 days later. In fact, there’s a whole chapter in the above-mentioned book devoted to the topic and all the ways it can be challenging. For C, it’s a matter of not yet recognizing when it’s coming. I can say we’ve had a few successes, which were celebrated with much fanfare. And there’s a standing promise of candy for each successful poop in the toilet. (The book actually recommends against rewards, but we’re doing it anyway.)

We also have not tackled night training. She discusses it in the book, but we decided to wait on night training until she’s more fully day trained. To be honest, I’m hoping she just learns to either hold it all night, or wake up on her own when she needs to go. (Ha! Famous last words, right?)

I cannot recommend this book enough! If potty training has crossed your mind at all, even if you don’t think you or your child is ready, I suggest reading this book now. At the very least, check out the podcast interview with the author, or read her blog. It gave me the confidence to say with certainty that my daughter was capable of learning, along with all the tools I needed to have a successful start. It will be months before I can say she’s fully trained, but at just 11 days into it, she’s already nailed one aspect of it. Also, there’s a Facebook group that goes along with the book, where you can get advice and tips from other parents. I’ve posted there a few times, sometimes just for reassurance, and it’s been a wonderful experience. Oh, I almost forgot, there’s also a YouTube channel.

Note: I was not paid or even asked to write all these positive things about the book. I just loved it that much!