Cleaning out

Randoms because it's all my brain can handle right now.

* I don't understand why people will, essentially, stalk my blog(s) but refuse to have conversations with me.
* I ordered a pair of Nine West shoes that just arrived the other day.  They are amazing and I was so excited to wear them with the hot pink dress I had ordered for my husband's Christmas party.  The dress doesn't fit and I can't push myself with exercise for the next two weeks, so now I don't know what I'm wearing to the party. 
Yoga pants and the Nine West sparkle shoes.
* I've learned to ignore people in public places when they say, "Oh, look, Twins!" and then wait for me to stop and reply.  My children are not for your viewing pleasure.
* EVERYWHERE needs to have drive-thrus! I drove 20 minutes out of my way today just to mail out the girls' birth announcements because I knew of one post office that had a drive up mailbox.
* I'm going house hunting tomorrow, again.  I would say that I have been in AT LEAST 50 homes looking for the "right" one.
* If we don't find a house soon I'm not sure my sanity will survive.
* I finally chose a therapist and called today at 10am.  Had to leave a message.  Still haven't heard back.  Not helping.
* I'm actually looking forward to the prospect of possibly being able to stay home at the end of this school year.
* I have done our laundry and dishes more times in the past 4 weeks than I have in the past 4 years.
* I'm not nearly as excited about Christmas this year as I have been in the past and the thought of decorating in any way, shape, or form has no appeal to me.
* I'm taking all 4 kids to the beach on Saturday to, hopefully, take our Christmas card photos.  I would rather just sit on the beach and stare at the water for awhile.
* I'm really pissed that my new dress doesn't fit.  It means I'm "bigger" than I thought I was.  Not helping.
* Neither of the girls has smiled yet and it's frustrating to see people who had babies at the same time as me posting their babies smiling.
* Learning to deal with the fact that because the girls are preemies means that they may do things at a slower pace has actually been harder than caring for them.
* I'm back on Weight Watchers.  Take that for what you will.
* I got on an elliptical machine for 20 minutes the other day and it felt really good.  I plan to increase my time when I get back on tomorrow.
* I worry that I won't be able to coach come Spring and how that will actually affect my mental state- with or without therapy.
* I really want to start packing up our house now even though we have no prospects to move in to.
* My husband just put on Beavis and Butthead and I actually want to rip my own ears off.
* My car is a disaster and it annoys the crap out of me every time I get into it.  I hate driving it now because it's so messy.
* I think bringing home the twins has forced me to be more organized and neater.  This is frustrating for me because I think bringing the girls home has actually forced my husband to become more disorganized and messy.
* Sometimes I think that I want to rent a dumpster for a week and use it to just clean out the whole house.  I feel like the fact that our dumpster is all the way down the street is a huge hindrance to me actually cleaning out.
* Clearly, I needed to clean out my mind tonight and that's where this is all coming from.

Say What?!

Maybe it's the way I was raised or that maybe I'm not nearly as nosy as my husband and family seem to think I am but I don't go up to complete strangers and inquire on their reproductive tendencies or the status of their bodily functions.

I have found, since giving birth to our twin girls, that not only is having two at once completely different at home than having just one but when you go out it's like you're a walking circus attraction.

"Come one, come all!  Look, the woman pushing the mack truck stroller has two infants at once! You won't want to miss this and don't forget to ask every inappropriate question possible of this stranger!!"

Seriously, people out there have some balls.  And they like to stare, too!

I've had some interesting questions over the past few weeks.  I've been venturing out little by little because my sanity needs it and I need to actually make sure that my kids have food and I do have errands to run.  The most common question, and definitely NOT inappropriate, is "Are they twins?"  I try not to give back a snarky response because maybe people don't realize that the two, almost equally sized, infants in my mack truck were born at the same time.  Or maybe they think I'm the hot young nanny of two families and these are just my two totally unrelated charges.

or not.

I also get other innocent questions like, "are they both girls?" or "are they identical?" or "what are their names?"  All things that I got in singleton form when my son and daughter were born.  Things I don't mind answering because I know that people love babies and, you know what, my babies are pretty dang cute!

But, for every innocent question there are two or three completely inappropriate questions.  And when I say inappropriate, I mean inappropriate for total strangers to ask me while standing in the middle of Target.  Not inappropriate for friends or family to ask in the right context- like they ask me if it's ok to ask me some personal questions.

Yesterday took the cake in terms of inappropriate questions and luckily I had friends with me to witness this.  People close to me can't believe what strangers say to me and I think they can't believe it because they would never say those things to me and most of them are related to me!

So, I'm in a popular craft store with all four of my kids and two very good friends.  I'm standing off to the side with the mack truck stroller waiting for everyone to be ready to head up front and pay.  I'm keeping my head down, checking on the twins and keeping to myself- I've found that if I don't make eye contact people won't say anything to me.  All of a sudden this woman approaches me- she has three children (pre-teens) in tow and she also has on some of the most hideous teal/blue eyeliner and iridescent lipstick and of course she's chewing gum WITH HER MOUTH OPEN!  And here is how our conversation went-

"Oh, two at once...isn't it hard? I had two at once, I didn't think I'd make it. It was so hard. Did you do IVF?"

I am not shitting you. She jumped right into the pool with both feet and no clothes on, figuatively.

"Uh....no, no IVF."

"WOW! So you conceived them naturally?! Wow...so hard.  Well, good luck."

And that was it.  She walked away at that point.  And as she walked away and left my friends with their mouths hanging open I thought of what I should have said instead of "uh....no, no IVF".  I should have said, "Nope, no IVF, just one night of that really crazy wild sex that no one likes to talk about but only really special people get to have." and then I should have walked away.

I get it, I really do, people LOVE babies and when there are two it's even better.  And do not get me wrong, my children- ALL OF THEM- are miracles, our twins are especially unique because we did go through a loss before we had them.  But I don't think the fact that I have twins and that I've chosen to venture out of my home with them to be so incredible that it gives perfect strangers the right to inquire on mine and my husband's conception method or whether or not my boobs are leaking.

My children are not circus freaks and I would love to talk with you if you have something supportive or funny to say or if you own a bar and give out free beers to moms.  And if you want to ask me innocent things about my children, any of them, or tell me how awesome they are or how cute they are or how fabulous I look almost 6 weeks after delivery and with 40 extra pounds on....FEEL FREE. 

Other than that, please, think twice before you decide to say something because, really, your questions and comments, when inappropriate, are not wanted and rude and don't help my already shaky mental well being.  And you don't want to be the one I dump two very full bottles of smelly, gross, preemie formula on.

I KNOW it

They say that the hardest part is admitting you have a problem or that you need help.  That you can't get the help you need and heal until you say, "I need help. There is something wrong that needs to be fixed."

Not so for me.

I know I need to see a therapist.  My doctor has been saying since we found out we were having twins, "Make sure you find someone to talk to after the babies are born. You will need it."  My husband has said it.  My mother has said it.  And I have said it to myself.

I KNOW that I need help. 

I KNOW that I need to talk with someone.

I KNOW I'm having a hard time right now.

I can easily admit all of that.

The hardest part for me?  Actually making the phone call.

My insurance company has provided me with a list of therapists that take our plan.  There are women, men, close by ones, far away ones, ones who have evening hours, one who have daytime hours.  I have my pick of more than a dozen.  But for some reason, I cannot pick up the phone.

Part of it is trying to fit it into our schedule is hard.  I have two older children who have activities and school and go to a school that is more than 45 minutes away from where we live.  I have a husband who works long hours practically 7 days a week.  And I have two newborns that require a lot of care and attention.

And don't say it, I already KNOW it.

I need to take care of myself.  I need to take care of my mental well being.

I KNOW.

Part of it is also that even though my insurance company gave me in network providers I'm worried about cost.  What cost will come back to me?  We can't afford it right now.  We're trying to get rid of our house and move.  I'm trying to buy everything we need to eat with coupons.  And we're seriously considering me staying home full time next year.  And to top it off I decided to check out our pending insurance claims and found that just ONE of the girls' claims is over $93,000!  Hopefully it will be approved and covered but there are nights I lay awake thinking, "What if it's not? How in God's name will we ever pay off over $300,000 worth of medical bills?!?!"

I KNOW we'll manage no matter what and my well being is far more important than bills.

And really part of it is that there are days where I feel really good.  Like that feeling of anxiety and sadness and disconnect has passed.  Like I'm starting to see pieces of my old self and my "normal" self.  But just like that it could be gone.  And that's when I really know I need to call.

But for some reason I have not been able to make the phone call.  And I need to.

I KNOW it.

Oh, Didn't you Know?!

I keep telling myself I'm going to sit down and write each day.  I need to use this space like I did after my daughter was born because, along with an excellent therapist, this space helped me sort through a lot of my PPD issues.

And don't you know that having twins AND having had PPD in the past pretty much guarantees that you're going to develop PPD all over again!?

Oh, you didn't know that?

That's probably because you didn't have every single individual around you telling you that for the past 10 months.

I have.

So, yes, just to cover the bases and let you know what my t-shirt is going to say when it's printed here we go:
1. They are not identical
2. They are both girls
3. Yes, they were preemies
4. Yes my hands are full
5. No, they are not my first
6. Yup, 3rd and 4th.
7. Interestingly enough, and not that it's ANY of YOUR business but we are done having kids.
8. I am aware that it's very likely that I'll develop postpartum depression because I've had twins
9. No, I am not nursing but thanks for inquiring about the state of my breasts
10. Yes, I am tired but I've been tired for the past 7 years so, really, adding two babies to the mix didn't really upset the already overturned apple cart.
11.  And, no, you cannot hold them because I'm pretty sure you're hands are filthy because you probably don't wash after you pee.

All of that, of course, will go on the front.  I'm trying to figure out an image for the back....it's either going to be the famous Uncle Sam pose or maybe just the phrase, "Honk if you're horny" to throw people off.

So, yeah, I need to use this space more.  I need to write more.  I need to make an appointment for a therapist.  I need to go for a run.  I need to wash the hair dye from last night's home dye job off my forehead.  I need to find a house to live in that isn't so far out in east bumble that I want to cry everytime I go home.  I need to figure out how exactly we're going to afford 4 kids because right now, we're not.  I need to think about whether or not it really will make sense for me to stay home with my kids next year or if daycare is worth the expense.  I need to use my Groupon for my spa mani/pedi by this Friday or I'm out $45 bucks.  I need to find sweaters for ALL of my kids so that I can haul them down the shore for a day at the beach and to take our Christmas card photo.

There's a lot more I need to do.  And some of those things I want to do, too.  It's not all this big heaping mound of shit on my plate but right now it sometimes feels like it. 

And all I really want is for everything to be drive thru accessible so that I don't have to worry about how exactly I'm going to carry my nonfat latte out of Starbucks while holding two baby carriers.

Because, really, I have my hands full right now and I don't think I needed to print that on a t-shirt for everyone to know it.

Two Weeks

I wish that I had been chronicling our past two weeks in a regular manner.

I wish that I had written that first night or day after giving birth. 

I wish that I had written about being separated from the two children I grew for 33weeks and 5 days. 

I wish a lot of things had gone somewhat differently but they went the way that they did for a reason and I'm seeing that now....sort of.

But we're two weeks into this adventure and I didn't write a lot of it down but I'm going to now.  We've spent two weeks living in the NICU.  Two weeks of looking at our babies and seeing tubes and monitors and then looking next to us and seeing much worse.  Two weeks of commuting to the hospital and doing feedings and waiting for timelines and good news and bad news. 

Two weeks of watching our babies grow outside of me and inside incubators and hospital walls.

And if anyone tries to tell you that NICU is easy or it doesn't affect them or having their kids there was no big deal, they are (pardon my language) fucking liars.

So, the past two weeks have been like that roller coaster ride from "Parenthood" except there were points where the tracks veered where they weren't supposed to and other points where the cars on the tracks detached and points where the ride just stopped altogether.

And even though I didn't write about them over the past two weeks, I'm going to now.  And I'm going to write about our two beautiful daughters that are tiniest, sweetest and funniest creatures I've ever seen- next to their older siblings.

Sawdust

I want you to know my grandpa.  Not because he passed away tonight.  Not because he was my grandpa.  But because he was what every grandfather should be.

I am extremely blessed.  I was able to spend many years getting to know the men that helped to raise my parents.  For the early period of my life I lived moments away from my mother's father and many of my afternoons and weekends were spent with my grandfather and grandmother.  My mother's father passed away a few years ago and it was hard to say goodbye but knowing that alzheimer's and parkinson's had taken over his body helped me to see the benefit in his going to be with God.

My father's father was so very different and yet very much the same as my other grandfather.  I can't pinpoint the exact differences...well, I could, but really I want to talk to you about grandfather...not give you a compare and contrast.

What do I think of when I think of my grandfather?  There are a few things that come to mind.

I think of his Naval hats- he always seemed to have a different hat with a different boat on them.  He was in the Navy- a radio man.  But he was different and made sure that people knew it- he was not on the front lines, other men were.  There was a distinction between him and those that went off to fight and he never let it be forgotten that his job in the Navy was not that of a soldier on the front lines.

I think of his chair.  Oh my goodness, his chair.  The earliest chair of his that I remember was this dark-ish blue fabric.  And NO ONE except grandpa sat it in.  Usually.  I managed to weasel my way into the chair quite often.  There were surprises in the chair or really around the chair.  There was the keyboard behind the chair that was especially for the grandkids.  It was always in the box.  The batteries were never dead.  And we were never NOT allowed to play it.  Then there was the cabinet next to the chair.  I only discovered this cabinet AFTER my grandfather pointed it out to me.  The cabinet housed all sorts of things but mainly it housed cheez-its or graham crackers.  HIS SNACKS.  They always tasted better when they came out of the cabinet because it felt like I was sharing something with him that no one else might have been able to. 

His chair, not the same blue one, still sits in the corner of the living room.  It's there and it's like the focal point of the room, after the rifle that hangs just above the couch.  The chair has the perfect sight line for, well, everything.  From his chair, my grandfather could see the TV, the front porch, who was driving up the driveway, who came into the house and what was going on in the kitchen.  Whereas, when I think of my mother's parents I think of their dining room table and the meals we shared around it.  When I think of my grandfather, I think of that chair and the times we spent trying to get into it and be near him.

What else comes to mind when I think of my grandfather?

Grilled chicken.  Other than my husband, I don't think I've ever seen anyone consume as much grilled chicken as my grandfather.  And really it was more in the past few years that he clung on to that grilled chicken, but in the numerous lunches I ate with him, I'm not sure I saw him eat much more than grilled chicken. 

Sawdust.  What?  Yes, sawdust.  My grandfather, for so many years, was a woodworker.  Not by trade.  Not as his career.  But his hobby.  Something he enjoyed.  Something that so many of us in our family benefitted from.  I hated going in the basement at my grandparents' house because the steps scared the shit out of me but I knew that once I got to the bottom of the steps there was a stool there that I could sit on and watch my grandfather, and usually my dad, work together on a project or simply cut a piece of wood that was needed to repair something.  Occasionally, I'd get to work the table saw.  I'd get to paint something or hammer something.  I was never ever ignored and there was always something to see, learn, or hear down there.  When the workshop was moved out to the barn nothing changed except for location. And I didn't have to use those freakishly shabby steps!  There was always the smell of cut wood and sawdust all over the workshop, the barn, my grandfather.  I'm not sure exactly when it was that I realized that the workshop really wasn't getting used anymore but I do remember feeling a sense of sadness knowing that my grandfather wasn't really going out there anymore.

I could talk more about these places or things but I don't think I'm giving you picture that I want you to have.  I want you to know about the selflessness that he had.  I want you to understand what he did for his family.  I want you to know how he would sit with me and lovingly mock his own children and their ridiculousness.  I want to share with you the things I KNOW he only said to me- like how when he and my grandmother were raising their mess of children they never had enough money but when they needed it, it always came through.  It was always there.  Those have been words that have comforted me as my husband and I try to navigate raising a much smaller family.  They were also words that made my father laugh out loud when I shared them with him. 

I want you to understand that my grandfather was a man who never, ever, stopped working even up until this, his last day.  He worked his way up in his company.  He worked to raise his family in the best way he possibly could.  He worked to show his grandchildren love and comfort and humor in everything he did.  And today he worked to keep breathing so that my son and I could spend some time with him before he left to be in a far better place than this one.

I want for you to know that my children will hear wonderful stories of him and the things he did and said during his life.  My children and my grandchildren, God willing, will know that he loved life and he loved his family and friends unceasingly.  They will see pictures and papers that help to tell the story of his life.  They will see doll cradles and book cases and Christmas decorations all lovingly handcrafted in his workshop.  They will get a piece of my grandfather, their Big Grandpa, that only memories can give them. 

I want for you to know more than I can put here because I could really go on forever.  The sarcasm, the cheek that was always put up and waiting for a kiss when you arrived at his home, the love for his ridiculous poodle that often was treated better than family members, the numerous fake chickens in the living room whose presence is still unexplained, the boats and ships and nautical decorations that kept him in touch with his love of the beach and the ocean, and so much more.  I really could go on forever.

More than anything else, I want you to know that while I know, because of my faith and his, that he has gone on to a better place free from suffering, pain, and illness and full of friends and family, it sucks to be left behind.  But I cling to my memories, I cling to the memories of my family, the stories, the photos that have been everywhere lately thanks to my wonderful cousin.  I cling to the fact that it is my job to make sure that my children know their Big Grandpa.  And I tell you all of this because knowing him has made me a better person who truly knows love and I firmly believe that you knowing this little piece of him will help you to know love, as well.


And I want you to know that every time I smell cut wood and sawdust, I will forever think of my grandfather and miss him.

Let's See If You're Really Here

There's nothing particularly important about this except I'm curious.

There's a rumor going around within my friends that some of them- who I have never mentioned this space to- have been reading it.

Yes, it's on Facebook that I write here.

Yes, I use Twitter occasionally.

Yes, I will talk openly in person about every subject covered on here.

But, I still find it weird, odd, off putting, when a friend says, "Uh, yeah I read your blog and I saw what you said about Lady Gaga." 

(I've never said anything about Lady Gaga, that I can remember.  Except I love her. I really only dislike Judas. The Edge of Glory might be one of my favorite songs right now and the fact that the Big Man is featured on it doesn't hurt!)

Sometimes I get thrown off because I worry that maybe I said something that offended them.  And then I remind myself that this is my space and while it is out in Internet Land for all to see I'm really not saying anything here that I don't believe and wouldn't say in person. 

Sometimes I'm weirded out because it's always the most random of my friends who mention the blog.  The ones who I'm convinced never look at their Facebook or who know how to operate a computer.

And sometimes it's just odd.  It just comes up a the strangest times like when you're driving through the Bronx searching for a way to get home from a Yankee game because your friend's stupid ass GPS doesn't recalcuate fast enough.  And you can't tell if they're really lying about seeing your blog because they like to do that to you because they think it's hysterical to see you squirm and "freak out" and they really enjoy imitating the high pitched voice you supposedly use when you get upset.

Just odd.

And I do not use a high pitched voice.  They're just a bad impersonator.  And wrong, a lot of time.

So, it appears that my blog is spreading into my real life and that's ok.  I mean, again, I'm not putting it up here if I don't believe it and if I wouldn't say it in person.

So, read away.  And if you are really reading maybe, just maybe, you'll realize how wrong you are so much of the time and how multi-faceted and how much of a "natural" I really am.  ;)

Just a Few Things

I realized this morning on my way into work that November will be here before I know it.  It's already the middle of June and the thought of two babies entering our lives within the next 4 months is somewhat scary.

And the comments from some people who know or find out we're having twins have not been helpful.

First, a few things:
1.  I have every intention of returning to work after the babies are born.  I love my job.  My work is important in the grand scheme of things and it keeps me sane. 

2.  Yes, we do have help.  I have wonderful parents who have- even before finding out we were having twins- have pledged their help to us no matter what.  My father-in-law has been willing to help us at every turn, as well.  We are well taken care of and, shockingly, we have somewhat successfully raised two children up to this point so there is a chance we might be ok with two more.

3.  I am FULLY aware of how hard this is going to be.  I don't know exactly what it's going to be like but I'm not expecting to bring my babies home on a cloud in a golden chariot.  I'm giving birth to two of them at once and that, in and of itself, scares the shit out of me. 

4.  I have already given up basketball for at least the next season but I have every intention of coaching softball.  I work with an individual who is not just another coach but he is a very good friend and he loves my kids, to boot.  He is an understanding individual who wants to make sure that we have a winning combination to create a winning team and if that means my kids are practice once in awhile, he is ok with that.  Plus, I work with a group of girls who ADORE my children.

5.  While I may not be GREAT at math I do understand the basic principles of addition and I am fully aware that 2 existing children + 2 soon to be born children = 4 children.  Yes, I will have 4 children.  Yes, we are instantaneously doubling our children.  Yes, I am aware that I am one child away from making the starting 5 of a co-ed basketball team.  Rumor has it that people have had more than 2 or 3 kids before....hell, my grandmother had 11 at one point AND was taking in foster children.

6.  While I may chuckle about the fact that God's plan never really goes the way you think it's going to, I don't need you to laugh heartily in my face about it.  I'm scared for a variety of reasons but more than ever I have put my faith in God and I know that he would not give me more than I can handle nor would He abandon me and my family during this time of joy, excitement and sometimes fear.

So, now, when you and I talk about my pregnancy or me having twins could you maybe, just maybe, remember that I'm not some freak of nature and this isn't some cruel joke.  There is a grander plan for me and maybe even for you...who knows?! 

November is going to be here before we know it and I'd really like it if maybe I could rely on you for some help and support and hopefully a hospital visit because it gets REALLY lonely in there!

For The Love of the Team

Sports have always been an integral part of my life.  Always.

I played basketball from the time I was 7 until, well, I've never stopped recreationally. 

I played softball all through grade school and college.

And in the middle came numerous other sports- Rowing, Rugby, Field Hockey, Soccer, Baseball, Golf, and the list continues.

I am an athlete and I use that term with confidence.  I push myself for the love of the sport and for the betterment of me as a person and as a competitor. 

And for my team.

I began coaching when I was in high school.  I coached girls' 7th and 8th grade girls basketball with ease and fun.  And while I didn't fully pursue coaching beyond the walls of my high school until I was teaching, I knew it was something that I wanted within my future.

I helped coach softball at the last school where I taught but with walking away from the school I also walked away from the team.

For the past three of the four years I've been teaching at my current school, I've been coaching.  And to say that I've been enjoying myself- even in times of greatest trials- is an understatement.  To be able to watch young women learn and excel at a sport that they love is an incredible feeling and to know that you are a small part of that is ever better.

Yesterday I was given an awesome opportunity to watch as a team of young women, whom I've known for the entire time I've been teaching at my current school, defied odds, challenged critics and worked together as a cohesive and supportive team.  They worked their way to a sectional state title in softball and yesterday they went to take the all over state title.

They didn't take the title but they walked off that field with their heads held high and smiling, some through tears.  It was a day that ended something that seems to become more special each year, at least for me. 

As a player I never found it that difficult to end a season.  Many of my seasons ended on high notes which may have made it easier, but they also ended with the knowledge that next year would be here before we knew it and the teammates that were with me would be returning. 

As a coach I find it far more difficult to say goodbye to a season because so often the players leaving are leaving for good.  They are heading to college.  They are moving forward into new frontiers that I distinctly remember myself moving into.  They are growing up and moving into the next chapter which can only be better than the one before.

And that is, often, sad.  Especially when the players are people that you not only enjoy watching on the field but they are individuals whom you enjoy interacting with off the field, as well.

Looking ahead, for me, has been difficult.  I have already made the decision to walk away from coaching basketball next season.  I had to.  The fact that my due date is 4 days before the opening of the season necessitates my taking a break from the program.  My hope is that I can get back to the sport in the following season but I'm not sure that will happen.

Looking to next Spring has been even harder because of the uncertainties of what the next year will bring.  I can only hope to be this sad next year at this time because I have had the honor of being with a team who has worked just as hard and come just as far as this year's team.  But I fear the expectations and the changes ahead.

I take each day as it comes and right now I'm steeped in the moment of melancholy and pride that yesterday brought.  What tomorrow will bring is completely unknown and while that is frightening it also exciting because just like every new inning brings with it a new chance to put the bat on the ball or play defense against a batting team, tomorrow brings with it possibilities of building up the team and remembering the love of the sport and the love of the team.

And as an athlete, sometimes that's all that is needed.

The Return

It's been awhile.

Now that Summer is just about here I have a feeling I'll be on here a bit more. 

A good amount has happened in the time since I've been gone.

To sum it all up, we are currently expecting twins in November-ish, I have already been on bed rest once for heart issues, our house is going on the market this weekend, I've decided to keep the kids home with me all Summer, and the softball team that I am the assistant coach of has made it to the state finals and we have our game tomorrow.

All exciting and stress inducing things.  And all things that have been weighing on my mind, my heart and my hips HEAVILY.

As of late, I've been either allowing my hormones to the get the best of me or I'm really starting to feel the reality of the changes we're experiencing and anticipating or maybe, just maybe, it's BOTH!

The past few days have been especially hard for me because I'm starting to feel as if I'm allowing other people's expectations of me and my life to get the best of me.  The overwhelming sense that the way I see things unfolding is not only NOT going to happen but if it does, it's totally wrong.

Now, don't get me wrong, I have learned my lesson with regards to making plans.  God laughs and it goes in a totally opposite direction from where I expected.  It almost always turns out in a positive way!  But I've started to play my cards very close to my chest because I'm beginning to feel like people have an idea of what I should or should not be doing or how I should or should not be getting ready and really, it's none of their business.

I have expectations of myself and these next few months and my family and whether or not they are met is yet to be seen.  But that's no one's issue except mine, and really it's no one's business except mine.

No, YOU have a Magical Day, Asshole!

I've been trying to come up with a way to convey to all of you what went on between James from Georgia and myself upon our arrival in Disney World.

I wanted to make sure that I conveyed purely condescending and phony nature of James, as well as my livid and justifiably angry reaction.

I needed to make sure that you all got the picture that not only had our Disney vacation started off on the VERY WRONG foot but James from Georgia managed to sour us on Disney World resorts for quite some time.

The only way I could think to do this was to write a letter.  A letter to James from Georgia.  And then share it with all of you.

And then share it with the executives at Disney, specifically Ms. Meg Crofton.

Dear James from Georgia,

You don't remember me.  I know you don't.  Well, maybe you do.  Maybe you remember me as the woman in the sweatshirt who looked beat to hell at 10:30 at night who was yelling at you in the middle of the All Star Movies Resort Lobby.

Do you remember me?

I will NEVER forget you.  And I can assure you that I will tell EVERYONE this story.  I don't care if every other person I run into has the most Magical Fantastic Disney World Experience EVAR!  I am going to make sure they know all about you and the crap that you and Disney pulled on my family.

James, we arrived at our Disney resort, I'm sorry- we arrived at what we THOUGHT was our Disney resort, late on a Thursday evening.  There were 6 of us- 4 adults and 2 children.  The adults had all been to Disney before but this was a first for the kids and it was a first for us staying in a Disney owned resort and to say we were looking forward to a Magical time is an understatement.

I'm not sure why the Disney gods decided that you were going to be the one at the counter that night.  I'm not sure why the moment you opened your mouth I just KNEW this was going to go badly.  And I'm really not sure why you thought it was ok to continually say, "I understand" and call me "Ma'am" when you really didn't understand ANYTHING and I certainly don't look old enough to be a Ma'am!
But the universe and Disney came together and gave us to you and you to us and James, that was a very bad idea.

When you could only find ONE of our reservations that we had booked in NOVEMBER, I knew that the situation was escalating and then when you couldn't grasp the concept that we had made all of the reservations on one credit card and through one travel agent, I surmised that we were in big big trouble.

Things were getting rough, my blood pressure was rising and my fists were starting to clench.  So I paced a little bit while you did a little typing.

And then...BOOM!

James from Georgia you took what had so far been an ok trip- a smooth plane ride (courtesy of an awesome pilot and a lovely vodka cranberry), a fun bus ride on the Magical Express, and an awe inspiring arrival for my kids at the resort, and turned it sour quite fast.

Apparently, our preferred status, adjoining rooms had been downgraded and then separated.  The Disney bigwigs put my parents in one hotel and then proceeded to move my family- my husband and I and our two kids- DOWN THE STREET to another hotel.

You know what iced the proverbial crap-ass cake that you handed us just then, James?  The fact that rather than apologizing you went ahead and issued your pisspoor Disney customer service training inspired, "I understand, Ma'am" and then had the audacity to refer me to the teeny tiny fine print at the VERY BACK of my Disney trip planner packet.

And that James, was the first time that I wanted to reach across the counter and punch you in the face.

I believe my exact response to you was, "You have got to be-" and I paused there because, really, I wasn't prepared to drop the F-bomb in front of my mom AND inside Disney World, "freaking kidding me" was how I finished it.

"Well, Ma'am, it is written there."  And there is the second time I wanted to reach across and punch you. IN. THE. FACE.

See, I practiced some fabulous restraint up until that point.  I walked away. Briefly.  I let my mom deal with you because I knew she wouldn't drop an F-bomb and I knew she wouldn't allow her fists to do any talking.

I think this was around the time that you took your first trip into the "secret back room that gives no satisfaction to any actual customers".  I'm fairly convinced you were talking to Walt Disney himself back there and he kept telling you that he understood but he was just so cold from being frozen that he couldn't do jack shit for us.

You informed us, when you finally left good old Walt that Disney had ever so graciously OVERBOOKED the resort by 400 people. Let me repeat that so EVERYONE can get a really good idea of how PREPOSTEROUS that is.....DISNEY OVERBOOKED THE RESORT BY 400 PEOPLE!!!

I think we can all take a step back from this letter right now and scream a collective, WTF?!?!?!?!?

So, at this point I was dumbfounded.  Speechless even.  What kind of company does that?!?!

Oh, wait, a company that KNOWS that people won't walk away.  A company that knows that there are hundreds of people, families, ready to jump right into the spot of a another family that they have screwed over by, say I don't know, downgrading their rooms and splitting up their entire party!!

Well, James from Georgia, Disney F-ed with the wrong family.  And had you actually seemed like you cared and maybe apologized once, JUST ONCE, maybe I would have been a little less bitchy and a little more understanding.

But you, James from Georgia, were an ASSHOLE.

You tried to convince us to stay separately- two different resorts.

You tried to tell us that this was all ok because it was all in the teeny tiny print at the back of our Disney plan book.

You tried to tell us that it didn't matter that our travel agent had confirmed THAT VERY MORNING because Disney reserves the right to change anything regarding our reservation- and steal our first born.

ok, well maybe not that last part.

And then when you told us that if we just stayed apart one night we'd be able to come back together the next night for the remainder of our trip I called you on it.

You see James from Georgia I'm not allowed to use logic at work so my brain is always aching to be able to use it and that night standing in the lobby of the Disney All Start Movies resort I got to use it.

"Wait, so you're telling me if we go over to the Sports resort and my parents stay here we'll be able to come back here tomorrow night and stay in close rooms, possibly adjoining for the rest of our trip....just as we had planned with our reservation that we booked in NOVEMBER?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Wait. Explain this to me....we separate for the night because you all OVERBOOKED BY 400 and then we can come back tomorrow night and stay together for the rest of our trip.  How is that even possible?!  How are you going to guarantee us two rooms for the rest of our trip when you just told me the hotel is OVERBOOKED BY 400?!!?"

"Well, now Ma'am, I never guaranteed it.  We'll tr-"

(Do you remember that scene from Real Housewives of NJ where Teresa screams at Danielle and calls her a prostitution whore and flips the table? Yeah....imagine that except Disney style.)

James from Georgia never got the rest of his words out.  He never had a chance to say anything else because I E-X-P-L-O-D-E-D!

"What do you mean you never guaranteed?!  YOU JUST TOLD ME THAT YOU WERE BRINGING US BACK HERE TOMORROW NIGHT?!??!  WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU NEVER GUARANTEED?!!?  THIS! IS! BULLSHIT!"

And here it comes James from Georgia, the words that will forever remind me of you and haunt me, "Ma'am, I understand."

It was at this point that my mother requested that I walk away.  I did.  But as I did and I heard James from Georgia's condescending mantra I turned around, raised my pointer finger at him and yelled loud enough to make the entire lobby look me, "You know what?!  You don't understand crap!"

I went outside and furiously started making phone calls.  I finally got someone from Disney on the phone and unleashed myself on to her.  I started the conversation with, "You people end every freaking conversation with 'Have a Magical Day' well, I have to tell you that my few hours at Disney have been anything but Magical.  As a matter of fact, they've been pretty damned shitty."

She apologized.

She got me working with people who eventually helped us.

She knocked money off our rooms for that night.

She made sure that I knew she was sorry.

She ACTUALLY APOLOGIZED.

James from Georgia, you were an asshole.  A MAJOR ASSHOLE.  You made sure that our Disney trip started off on the worst possible foot.  You made sure that there was so little magic in our first moments in Disney that you really should be fired.

I don't care who you work for James from Georgia, as long as there are customers involved we ALWAYS COME FIRST.  You did NOTHING to make me believe that you, or anyone else there, wanted our business.  You did NOTHING to show me that you actually did understand what we were dealing with that night.  And certain did NOTHING to make it easier for us to get into a room and get some rest so that we could start making our Magical Memories.

James from Georgia you soured us on Disney and as a result you made it so that I will tell this story to every person I meet.  You made it so that you will forever be associated with my kids' first trip to Disney World.  You made it so that we will think very long and hard before we EVER plan a trip back there.

James from Georgia, the letter that the Disney executives get will be much more put together than this rant which I've shared on my blog.  My blog that is read in multiple countries and just about every state.  The Disney executives will get a clear picture of yours, and their, incompetence and the pure dissatisfaction and disgust with which my family's Disney vacation began.

James from Georgia you were an asshole.  You were a poor representation of what Disney is supposed to be.  You were a terrible customer service agent and never once did I think that you thought about what if this was you and your family going through this.  If you had, I firmly believe that you would not have been such a doucho and you would have found a way to ACTUALLY understand and apologize.

So, James from Georgia, the story is out now and it will go from here because I plan to write letters, my mom plans to write letters and your name and our pure disgust with you and your treatment of us will be ALL OVER THOSE LETTERS.

Have a Magical Day James from Georgia, I know this helped to make mine a bit more Magical.

Important but Not Inspired

I'd like to tell you that I have something inspired to say, but really, I don't.

I could tell you about our trip to Disney (I will) and how I ended up in the lobby of a Disney resort yelling at "James from Georgia" at 10:30 at night about how he absolutely DID NOT understand how I felt at being told our reservations had been changed and downgraded with no notification to us.

I could tell you about the extreme anxiety I had getting on to a plane with my two children and how they were so freaking mesmerized by the entire experience and excited about GETTING TO MEET MICKEY that they didn't even notice the fact that we were HURTLING THROUGH THE SKY IN A GIANT METAL COFFIN!

I could tell you about this past Saturday when my plan had been to clean after a SHORT nap and how I fell asleep at 12:30 and woke up at 5:15pm!!!!

I could tell you about social situations where I made a conscious choice to avoid someone and how I felt bad but then realized that it really didn't matter because I'm not concerned with what they think of me or if we're friends.  And that felt really GOOD!

I could tell you about how much losing an hour kills me.  Yeah, the light at the end of the day is wonderful- especially with softball season happening- but getting up in the PITCH BLACK DARKNESS is not fun.

I could tell you about how it was a seamless transition into Softball season and while my new position hasn't actually got me doing anything just yet, I am SO EXCITED for this season.  And I've found I'm loving softball significantly more than basketball...for many reasons- the weather, being outside, getting to work with my friend and varsity coach, and most of all THE PLAYERS!

I could tell you about how there are big things on the very near horizon and they are excited and scary and life changing and awesome and I can't wait to share them with you.

I could tell you tons of stuff but none of it is inspired. 

But it's all important.

So, I'm going to tell you all about it as the days go by.  I'm going to share it all with you and if you want to know it, great.  And if you don't, that's ok, too.

So stay tuned because you're going to get to hear how I took on Disney and while I may not have won the war I certainly conquered the battle....I think.  I, at least, got to yell at James from Georgia and, really, it may not be mature, but it made me feel better and definitely helped me to have a little bit more of a Magical Day!

Success

My son walked into school today with one shoe untied, the wrong sweatpants on and I'm fairly certain his WHITE gym shirt had at least one stain on it (despite CRAPLOADS of bleaching!).

When I picked my daughter up at daycare she was wearing a pair of hand me down boys' jeans and a t-shirt that I was SURE I had put into the rag pile.

I had very high hopes for myself as a mom.  I had thought I was going to the mom whose kids were always dressed in clothes without stains. 

Whose kids were on time or even early for school and activities. 

Whose kids always had perfectly made sandwiches and never stayed home from school unless they were ridiculously sick.

HAH!

I can't tell you how many mornings I'm yelling at my 6 year old because he won't brush his teeth and he's too busy playing his DS to find his sneakers.  Or how many times we've had to turn around in the morning because we left a lunch bag or a bookbag at home. 

Or the number of times I've fed my children McDonald's for dinner....or lunch.

Go ahead, crucify me.

But right now, my children are completely packed for our trip to Disney on Thursday.

Right now, the lunches for them to bring to school tomorrow are packed and in the fridge ready to go.

Right now, the assignment that my son had due on Wednesday is ready to go in tomorrow.

Right now, my kids are asleep and have been since 6:50pm tonight.

Sometimes I'm on a roll.  Sometimes I feel like everything is gelling and we're moving together smoothly and sleekly. 

Sometimes I feel like I've got my shit in line so well that I deserve mother of the year.

And then, well, I don't.

And 5 years ago, 4 years ago, hell, 3 years ago, that would have sent me spiraling.  I would have been so upset and would have felt like I was doing such a huge disservice to my children.

I would have felt like I was a failure as a woman, a wife and most especially a mom.

But my daughter says please and thank you without being prompted.

My son cleans up after himself at dinner time.

My daughter dances her heart out like no one is watching and stops to give hugs and kisses to anyone in her family.

My son makes his bed each day and puts his dirty clothes where they belong at the end of the day.

I may not always get my kids to school on time or remember to cut the crusts off their sandwiches or get them in the bath every night but my kids are really great kids.  They are smart and funny and kind (not always to one another).  They are polite and friendly and compassionate.

Most of all they are happy.

And I'm pretty sure that makes me a success as a mom.  So far.

Sticky

I sometimes feel very restricted on here.

There are things that I want to write or talk about that involve people that read this blog.

There are things I need to express and I want to use this venue but I don't necessarily want people reading it and thinking or knowing it's about them.

There are situations and instances that I want unbiased feedback on but that I can't share because the people that are involved would read it here.

I could very well write about the situations.  Share the feelings.  Talk about the instances that occur.  And then just deal with the upheaval and aftermath.

Or I could start another blog and do it all anonymously.

Or I could just keep it all to myself and keep it inside.

Those three solutions don't necessarily appeal to me.

But they're all I've got.

Because there's some stuff that I just want to let out but I can't do it here because that would mean that real life would get very very sticky and right now, I just don't need that.

The Best Is Yet to Come

I really feel like I'm turning a corner.

I feel like things are coming into perspective and there's a true sense of moving on for me.

We received the genetics results this week from my miscarriage.

We were having a boy.

Everything else doesn't really matter.  Well, it does, but I don't feel the need to put it out here.

It is what it is and now we know.

And as my mom said, we have the knowledge and now we need to move forward with it.

This loss was terrible.  It was devastatingly sad and the thought of going through it again is scary but not so scary that we can't move forward and try again.  There are still days where I have to stop and remind myself that we're not pregnant.  There are days when the sight of baby items sends me into a depressive tailspin.  There are days when all I want to do is lay on my couch and watch endless hours of Grey's Anatomy.

And then there are the other days.  The days where I forget that this happened.  The days where my kids are so off the wall and hysterical that I don't have time to stop and be sad.  The days where my students have me laughing so hard that I can't catch my breath.  The days where basketball games are won or softball seasons are planned out and good times are spent with friends.

And both of these types of days will continue.  I know that.  I hope, though, that the second type outnumber the first type!

We got answers this week and they really helped.  Having some idea about what went on has been helpful.  It has been helpful to give us some closure.  It has been helpful to give us something to research and understand.  And it has been helpful to aid us in our decision of what to do next and when.

I thought that knowing what we were having would affect more than it did.  I thought it would devastate me to know that we lost a daughter or son, as it were.  I thought that knowing what our child would have been would have sent me into a deeper depression.  But I think it made it that much more real for me which, oddly, helped me grasp this and really move forward.  It helped me put a "face" to the loss and know that this was all very real and very hard but also something that we are coming through stronger.

This week has been ridiculously hard.  I am sick as a dog.  My 3 year old has Scarlet Fever.  My husband is stressed at work.  My 5 year old has been off the wall poorly behaved in many ways.  And we had two snow/ice days stuck inside!  It's been un-fun!  But I believe it's the end.  I believe it's the end of a bad month, of a bad spell, of our bad luck.

And the best is yet to come because we're moving forward.  And it's about damned time!

Ignorance or Possible Bliss?

Have you ever ignored your doctor's orders?

How much weight do you put in what your doctor tells you to do?

I take my antibiotics.  I go for x-rays when needed.  I see the specialists and follow their orders.

But I received some news yesterday and some advice yesterday and I'm seriously considering ignoring it. 

How do you weigh whether or not your doctor's advice and recommendation is sound or is just a means of feigning off a law suit?

I trust my doctor 110%.  She is a wonderful person.  She is caring, knowledgeable, and kind. 

But my heart and my gut and even my head are telling me that this time around I need to take control.

If I ignore her advice and things go wrong, I have no intention of blaming her.  But really, from what I'm seeing it's a pretty big IF.

So, what do you do?

Do you heed the advice?  Do you listen, as you always have, and follow the advice?

Or do you pick yourself up from the unexpected and upsetting news and say, "well, I really do have control over this (for the most part) and I believe I know what's right for my family and I" ?

I'm pretty sure I already know the answer.

Bottles and Diapers

There's an empty baby bottle sitting on my desk at work right now.

It's supposed to raise awareness for Pro-Life.  It's supposed to collect money to send to a foundation that supports young women who choose not to abort their babies.

All it's doing right now is messing with my head.  As are the signs promoting the pro-life club.  As would the beeping metronome meant to symbolize a heartbeat had I allowed it to be placed in my classroom.

I don't really want to talk about Pro-Life.  I'm not looking to get controversial right now. 

But seriously this freaking baby bottle sitting on my desk, "staring" at me is NOT helping.

I have two cases of diapers at home.  Unopened.  In my crawl space.  They sit there with two boxes of bottles and a box of plastic inserts.  I was being prepared.  I was following the advice of other moms and buying a pack or two of diapers each week so that I wouldn't be inundated with diaper purchases after the baby came.  I was excited.

Two weeks ago I finally had to ask my husband to do something with them.  I couldn't stand having them sit in our front hallway anymore.  I had thought about returning them and using the money for booze, because really, it's coming in a lot more handy than diapers are right now.

But that allowed the negativity in and I'm REALLY trying to NOT allow the negativity in.

BUT DAMMIT this freaking baby bottle sitting on my desk is NOT helping.

Yeah, I could put it away.  Yeah I could say a student swiped it.  Yeah I could just ask that I not participate.  But life goes on, right?  And baby bottles are going to be there and diapers are going to be there and babies, in general, are going to be there.

And eventually, hopefully, they'll all be together again in my house.

But for right now, this baby bottle?  Really not helping my emotional well being!

*I promise that I will stop talking about this really soon!  Today hit me like a Mack truck and I think it's the combo of the bottle and being super duper sick and needing to be home in bed!*

Seriously Coping

Right now I'm propped up in my bed with ungraded exams surrounding me, a pillow pet behind my head and another Grey's Anatomy episode is playing via my PS3 and Netflix on my TV.

I'm in Season 6.  There are 8 seasons and I'm not sure season 7 is available via Netflix.  I'm worried about the impending end of season 6. Seriously.

You see I lost a baby 3 weeks ago and my coping mechanism- along with spending lots of time in my sweats, shutting myself off from everyone except a few friends and family, and drinking BOATLOADS of English tea- has been to watch Grey's Anatomy reruns on Netflix.  Seriously.

I started with season 1 and I've worked my way through just about every episode in the past three weeks.

Is my mechanism healthy or normal?  Who the hell knows....really...who the hell cares?!?!  I'm not popping pain meds or indulging in the sleeping pills I was prescribed (I've only taken 2- hence my undereye circles and desire to sleep for hours on end).  I'm not jonesing for a drink the moment I wake up.  And I no longer feel the desire to kill anyone.  Seriously.

I'm watching re-runs of what basically amounts to a soap opera.  And it makes me feel good.  And deep down inside I think it makes my husband feel better, too, because at least I'm not crying anymore.

I started watching Grey's when I was pregnant with our son.  That was over 6 years ago.  And I am sure that I am connected those moments of comfort and safety and excitement in pregnancy and life to the show and by watching it now I'm gaining some of that.

Or maybe, just maybe, watching these fictional characters on the screen who have fictional problems and fictional romances helps me to escape my very real life and the very real sadness that has resulted from the series of events which occurred three weeks ago.

My money is on option #2.  Seriously.

My coping mechanism may be super weird but it's not dangerous, it's not hurting me or anyone else and it's helping me to pass the time.  And sure I could grade or do lesson plans or bake more or fold more laundry but, really, none of that makes me feel better.  This does. 

And I can confidently say that I'm better than I was three weeks ago.  Seriously.

So, I'm going to finish up all of the seasons that Netflix has to offer and then I'm going to take the next step that's in front of me.  Seriously.

What Do you Do?!

So, what does one do when they are:
* depressed
* overweight from putting on poundage very fast in the first 9 weeks of pregnancy and then all of a sudden not being pregnant anymore
* in need of motivation for weight loss
* trying to make time pass much faster than it currently is
* looking for something to take up the extra few minutes of life that are not already consumed
* trying to get back into shape so that they can get pregnant again
* attempting to lose weight for an impending trip to Disneyworld in 5 weeks
* trying to work through the tons of different emotions currently clouding their vision
* trying not to waste their membership to their local YMCA
* looking to carve out some time for themselves apart from their children
* spending too much time on the couch watching re-runs of Grey's Anatomy on Netflix

They register for a 5k through Disneyworld.  Even though they aren't in shape and they get winded walking to the fridge.

Isn't that what everyone does in this type of situation?

Frustration of Anticipation

For the past few days, while forming this post in my head, I had convinced myself that there was a song by Carly Simon or Stevie Nicks called "Frustration".  I have since come to realize that the song I'm thinking of is actually, "Anticipation" by Carly Simon.

Interesting to me.

Right now, I'm living in frustration central.

I'm frustrated that we lost what seemed to be a very healthy pregnancy.

I'm frustrated that we don't have any answers as to why we lost the baby.

I'm frustrated that I put on so much weight so quickly that now my clothes don't fit me.

I'm frustrated that my return to the gym was met with lots of heavy breathing, lackluster treadmill performances and general out of shape-ness.

I'm frustrated that I haven't slept more than 2 hours in the past two weeks. (Except for the one night that I broke down and took my Ambien and had the CRAZIEST FREAKING DREAM EVER!)

I'm frustrated that we have to wait until we get clearance from my doctor before we can try again.

I'm frustrated that my days vary so much.  I have really good ones and then I get smacked in the face with a terribly bad one.

I'm just frustrated.

And oddly enough, I'm frustrated with all of the anticipation of what our next step is and when it will begin. 

I'm not a patient person.  And while the build up of something usually makes the outcome that much better, I'd really like instant gratification right now.

Not gonna happen.

Frustration has a negative connotation and because I'm trying all that I can to focus on the positive I think I need to look at the anticipation rather than the frustration.

I'm anticipating my follow-up doctor's visit tomorrow and what she will tell me.

I'm anticipating my next workout at the gym because it means I'm getting that much closer to fitting back into my clothes and being healthy again.

I'm anticipating us getting cleared to move forward and try again.

I'm anticipating the end of my frustration.

And, again, instant gratification would help me out a TON right now.  But, it's not gonna happen.

So, I live with frustration of anticipation and take it one day at a time.  And hope that tomorrow is better than today or at least not as bad as the last bad day was.

"We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway, yay"

And I'm frustrated with myself for "wishing" these days away because these may be the most important days of all.

Navigation

I can say with complete confidence that before losing a baby I did not know how to react to someone who had lost one.  And I can also say that before losing a baby I could not even begin to imagine what a woman, a couple, a family goes through when they lost a baby.

Those are the things I keep reminding myself of as I go through each day.  Well, among the other things.

I went back to work this Monday and one of my co-workers came into my classroom and asked how I was doing and my response to him was, “Well, I woke up this morning and didn’t want to kill anyone so I’m running with that positive thought for the day.”  We both chuckled a bit but it was clear that what was behind those words meant much more than anything else.

I constantly have to remember that this type of situation is quite possibly one of the most awkward things for someone on the outside of it to understand.  And I have tried very hard to make sure that I react to people with compassion and understanding even when I don’t feel like they are reacting to me in that way.

I cannot begin to tell you the number of people who have said to my face, “Well, I’m not going to ask how you are because I’m sure everyone is asking and I already know how you’re doing.”  I finally responded to one individual with, “Actually, not too many people have been asking but I understand this is difficult for people to know what to do.  It’s an awkward situation for those on the outside.”

I think they were even more uncomfortable after that.

I also cannot begin to tell you the number of people whom I have not heard a word from and who I thought were our closest friends.  It is shocking to me.  But again, I remind myself that this is unchartered waters for so many people and it’s very difficult for people to know what to say at a time of loss, especially this type of loss.

What I can begin to tell you about are the absolutely amazing people who have stepped up and in when my husband and I never, ever expected it.

The friends and family who called, texted, and bbm’d their words of sorrow and support, their offers of any time of the night phone calls, the genuine sadness at our loss.  The amazing people on Facebook and through this blog who have emailed and messaged me to let me know they are here and there for us.  The flowers that came from a co-worker and his family with a kind note.  The emails that came offering words of comfort or offers to buy us dinner. 

The outpouring of love for us during this time has been incredible and I cannot even begin to express the gratitude that we feel.  Thank You.

I look at the experience and I try to pull as much positive from it as possible.  I look at the fact that we have been reminded of the incredible support system and friendships that are around us.  I recognize that nothing will ever replace the baby that we lost but that the love and support we have received will hold us up in times of sadness.  I firmly believe that out of our sorrow and loss there will come something amazing and wonderful.  That wherever we go from here we will carry with us an angel that will remind us of where we’ve been and how wonderful where we are really is.

Among everyone else I cannot begin to express how wonderful my immediate family and my husband have been during all of this.  Their support, comfort, and love are the backbone of what have brought me through so much of this.

The Unimagined Road

Yesterday was probably the first time ever that I have seen my OB/GYN's office empty.  I mean EMPTY.  There were one or two women in the back exam rooms but that was it...they were gone by the time I went back.

I am thankful that it was empty.

I am thankful that I didn't need to leave my exam room right away after my ultrasound.

I am thankful that the nurses were able to come into my room and sit with me and hug me and cry with me until my mom was able to arrive.

I am thankful that there were no pregnant women sitting in the waiting room that I would have to walk by on my way out.

One week ago yesterday I saw my baby's strong heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor in the very same room that I was in yesterday.

Yesterday that same monitor showed a bean shaped baby with no heartbeat.

Yesterday I spent much of my afternoon and evening crying and trying not to think about the baby we had just chosen names and godparents for this past weekend.

Yesterday I spent much of my time after the doctor trying not to think about the fact that when August comes we won't be bringing home a new baby.

Yesterday I spent the hours after my unexpected doctor appointment mourning a life that was to develop between now and August.

Today, I begin the process of moving forward and continuing to grieve our baby but realizing that there is still a wonderful life here and endless possibilities laid out before us.

I never imagined that we would be on this road- I don't think anyone does- but here we are and we are navigating loss and change the best way we know how. 

I'm not really sure where this road leads but I am praying that it leads to greater happiness than we ever could have imagined. 

Because right now the sadness that we're walking with is just really shitty and I'd rather not have to live with it much longer.