A different view of Mother's Day and some things I did during difficult pregnancies.

* If you don't want to read about the pregnancy stuff, then scroll to the last paragraph about Mother's Day. It's good!

I've never been the cutesy crafty type of person. I'm very much a tomboy. But after losing Ian and being blessed with Nathan so soon after, I knew that bonding would be difficult due to the fear and anxiety surrounding his precarious pregnancy. I knew that there were specific things I needed to do in order to ease my mind and connect me with my baby. Nothing overboard. I'm not superstitious and never entertained the idea that I was jinxing the pregnancy by doing these things although I understand others feel very differently and wouldn't get any benefit from the things I did. I just thought I would throw these out there. I will do it in list form:

* I wrote poems to him while pregnant, sweet, deep, and meaningful and I would read them to him often. They were positive and full of peace and love and hope.

* I slept with a medium stuffed bear who was pregnant and had a dress on that said "Momma bear" every.single.night. I'm not one to do something like that but I felt comforted and it put me in the right mindset to keep it together and do what I could to get him hear safely. As my belly grew, Nathan would roll towards momma bear and I felt like I had a little extra help, a little extra support, a little extra something special for the both of us, silly as that sounds.

* I would speak to Nathan CONSTANTLY. I would tell him everything. How I was feeling, good, bad, and ugly. I would tell him constantly how much I loved him and that I would do everything in my power to get him here safely.

* I would speak about things we would specifically do when he was born and as a child, in detail. Fun things, loving things. 

* I put his name everywhere. It was SO comforting to me. I found a baby license plate and a key chain with his name (I carried the key chain with me everywhere), a small painting with his name, it was on my desktop wallpaper, and one of those "name meaning" small posters, framed it and put it in his nursery. I didn't do much in the nursery, but the name thing meant so much to me I had to put it up. It made me feel positive, that he was present, which he was, and that eased SOME of my worry. It was definitely good having those things around for those times when the fear and anxiety were overtaking me and my goals weren't clear but instead intertwined with the thorns of doubt, anger, fear, jealousy, and grief. It helped redirect my mind and put things into perspective. I also spoke to others using his name instead of "the baby".

* I talked to Nathan during my pregnancy about his big brother Ian, what happened, how he will always be with us, and I spoke about him often and I realized after awhile that instead of speaking about Ian with the usual sadness and grief.... when I shared with Nathan, it became something else. A story, our story, and our family's story was continuing and it was my job to keep it all connected and real. That eased the pain of Ian's death and helped me bond with Nathan and start imagining what life would be like with a rainbow baby and an older brother for him to bond with.

* I sang to Nathan and rubbed my belly during quiet times. I figured out what body part was what and would massage them through my tight huge belly. Sometimes I used a lotion or candle nearby that was calming and one that I would use for years to come. I would inhale the scents while humming, hoping he could experience it even just a bit. I knew deep down that I may lose him, that was never far from my mind, so I figured I would make our short time together as special and sensory as possible. 

* I baked cookies with him, explained each step, tasted the batter, he felt the warm of the oven as I leaned my belly on it while it preheated. We tasted the final product together. 

* We had a routine (I did these things with my other son years later as well) but my routine with Nathan was a morning orange juice and breakfast biscuit from Hardees with some Michael W. Smith and Marc Shultz in the background. Every morning. And he responded, every morning. That routine was so special to me, one of my favorite memories. 

Nathan loves to hear these stories of what I did while pregnant with him. He fully understands the precarious nature of the pregnancy and that he wouldn't be alive with medical intervention. It's something we share now. And God forbid if he didn't make it, I would have those moments so treasured deep in my heart.....

Yes, a pregnancy with incompetent cervix after a second trimester loss and battling infertility is no doubt, a horrendous and terrifying task. I had the lowest of the low moments one could have in those situations. But peppering in the above little moments and routines and sharing with him DEFINITELY made it as bearable  as a situation like that could be. I am not the same Melanie. These things have changed me forever in many ways, good and bad. But those little memories, looking back now that we are finished with our family, those little memories are HUGE to me now and oh so special. 

Happy Mother's Day to all of you who are celebrating the day empty handed due to a loss or because your child has yet to make it to your arms. You are just as much a mother as the woman who has 12 kids tagging along after her. You are a mother in your heart, you go through the pain of treatments and negatives, but you are already a mother putting forth more as a mother to bring your children here, than so many others. Babyloss moms, you have endured the most tragic and important job a mother could ever do for her child. Sending them off from this life with love and honor and respect. Being strong and keeping their memory alive. Doing this while grieving and heartbroken in a society who minimizes the greatest effort a mother could possibly do.... letting go. It's a shame that Mother's Day is the way it is, alienating and separating women, rewarding some, degrading and ignoring others due to things they have no control over. If anything, Mother's Day should lift up those who are Mother's in their heart but not in their hands because ultimately, the mother's getting all the praise and fluff HAVE their greatest gift already, their children. And now that I have experienced Mother's Days as an infertile, a baby loss momma, and as a mother of living children, I can say that the difficulties of raising children-the exhaustion, the sacrifices, the worry, etc. is NOTHING compared to the lifelong grief I carry for the child who cannot be with me. Happy Mother's Day to you all. XOXO

From my dear friend Becca

Thank you dear friend for doing this for us. I LOVE IT. Thank you for remembering and honoring Ian in this way :-)

From my dear brother

Thank you dear brother for making this beautiful rememberance. You have no idea how much this means to me. Amazing.

Something you can do for me.

Another blogger that I follow has given her friends/family/readers a few opportunities to do something for her on this upcoming Mother's Day that shows her that her baby will not be forgotten.

One activity in particular was very touching and I wondered if anyone would be interested in doing this for us.

On Mother's Day, I was wondering if you could take a picture of Ian's name done by you perhaps with scattegory letters or baby blocks or written on a note or using magazine clippings, anything unique and creative that you can do with his name and send it to my email amorecappa@gmail.com.

I don't want Ian to be forgotten and Mother's Day is always bittersweet for me.  It would be wonderful to receive these on Mother's Day, showing us that Ian has touched your life in some way.

Please don't feel obligated to do this. Do this only if you are comfortable doing it, have the time, and if you feel compelled to do so.

Thank you all for continuing to read. XOXO

"A pair of shoes"

“A Pair of Shoes”

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

~~Author unknown~~

Ian's pictures

I've really struggled with this one honestly. I'm not sure why. I've been overanalyzing it and perhaps it's simply the fact that I don't want to share him. I don't want strangers and loved ones alike seeing him in this state. I feel like somehow putting his picture up is leaving him vulnerable, like I'm not protecting him. But it's him. How can I tell his story and not show everyone HIM? I'm not ashamed or embarrassed. I don't want to be pitied or make anyone uncomfortable which I know will happen. I struggled with this all day today and finally I realized that my desire to be completely open about his story and my desire to show others who have been through this that it is ok to fully share, outweighs any other feelings I have about it. I'm trying to bring awareness that this is not a subject that should be taboo. We NEED to tell others what we've been through. We WANT to talk about our babies. I wouldn't be true to my goal if I didn't post his pictures. Also, over the past week I have a dear family member that took his photo and altered the coloring so that it wasn't so traumatic for others. She did an amazing job however I'm not going to post those. I'm going to post the actual picture. I can't bring myself to alter him. Because I am not ashamed and embarrassed, I will post his picture as is. It is what it is and I want to share this in the most honest and forthcoming way possible. This is one picture that I took "a picture of a picture" so the quality is bad but I will post the three pictures I took of it. Please don't hesitate to comment on him. I would love to hear your thoughts :-)
So without further ado- Ian Nathaniel Early

Happy Birthday Ian

Happy Birthday sweet Ian. We love and miss you so very much. You would have been 8 today :-)

Ian's story

I'm finally putting it down. The only reason I am doing it now is because I want it to be done before his 8th birthday on Sunday April 14th, and I'm going to do it a rather unemotional way. I've had SO MANY ladies contact me about incompetent cervix, cerclages, and my story that I feel it needs to be down at this point and the only way I feel I can do it, is with facts and not emotions. Maybe the emotions will end up coming out and maybe this will end up being super long like my other posts that I don't intend to be lengthy. * Update: This is incredibly long and graphic.

I'm copying and pasting this from my last post as a beginning to the story:

"I was a naive new pregnant woman, not wanting to ask too many questions and make a stink with my concerns, at a group practice HMO that had sub-standard care with doctors I never saw more than once. First symptom when I KNEW something was wrong and should have spoken up- I had a RAGING fever at 11 weeks, that had me in shakes, chills, and hotflashes, feeling almost dead for days and they said "Don't worry about it, your immune system is lowered during pregnancy and you will be more susceptible to being sick". I was passing out, dizzy, and out of breath constantly, blacking out, seeing spots, and had a tender abdomen the entire time. I was told, "It's all normal". I had unusual thoughts of impending doom, anxiety, night terrors about losing my baby, sleeplessness, violent outburts and I was told "These are pregnancy symptoms." I tried to suck it up. I was impossible to live with. I knew deep down that something was very wrong but again, I was naive and uneducated. I had NO IDEA how wrong it could be."

The start:

At 20 weeks and 5 days I had a vaginal ultrasound done to measure Ian and find out gender. I knew it was a boy just like I knew my others were boys but of course confirming it sent us OVER THE MOON. Josh and I have always wanted sons and always felt we would have two boys. She did the complete set of measurements on Ian, and didn't once check my cervix. I NOW know that it is standard of care to measure the cervix, or at least VIEW IT, via ultrasound in the second trimester when the measurements of the baby are taken. I was again, being given sub standard care. GET YOUR CERVICAL LENGTH CHECKED AT ALL ULTRASOUNDS and they can do it manually early on. It's so easy and takes ten seconds and may save your baby's life.

At 21 weeks and 6 days, I went into labor and didn't realize it. I did a lot of walking that day at a historical site and felt what I will call "tightening" on and off. I was in a cramped and HOT car in Florida for 4 hours and thought I just overdid it. I will try to describe from my point of view at the time, which was with NO experience and it was my first pregnancy. I was trying so hard not to be my usual alarmist, hypochondriac self. Starting at 9 pm until 5 am the next morning, the contractions were regular and painful. I had NO IDEA what was going on and sat in a rocker with my cat throughout the night and opened it would pass. I didn't even wake up my husband until 5 am. At 5 am I had lost my mucus plug and had bloody show. I woke my husband up and told him that something wasn't right. I STILL didn't realize I was in active labor.

Pre-admission:

We went to the ER and it a doctor over an hour to see me. She said she wasn't going to see me because she wasn't from my practice and that my insurance REQUIRED that I be seen by a doctor from my practice when at the ER. WTF. My parents were there by then and me and my father argued with her to at least fucking CHECK ME. She agreed but said she would do no further. I will never forget the look on face when she put the speculum in. She stated "Oh my goodness you are 4 centimeters dilated and your bags are bulging out." I cried out "I'm only 21 weeks and 6 days. That's too early right?" She said, "Yes, this hospital is equipped to revive a baby born at 24 weeks but no sooner, and even at 24 weeks the chances of life without disability is very slim. Let me get your doctor here and they will discuss it with you further. " She RUSHED away. I don't blame her. I couldn't even CRY because I was afraid it would break my waters. ALL emotion was kept at bay at that point. I was offically admitted. I don't know how much time elapsed and what happened over the next four days is a blur so I will try to gets my facts as straight as possible.

The decision:

I was not checked manually after that because they did not want to disturb anything. I was placed on immediate and complete bedrest. I could not get up for any reason and was not allowed to eat and had minimal fluids for four days. I vaguely remember them giving me something to completely stop my gastrointenstinal system, so that I wouldn't poop for awhile, I have no idea what it was. I had one ultrasound of my cervix done abdominally the next day and the specialist said that we had no idea if an infection was present or else an emergent cerclage could have been placed. They could not diagnose me for certain and they threw out the words "incompetent cervix" and briefly explained it. He said I was not a candidate for an emergent cerclage at that time unless they could completely stop my labor and all minor contractions/dilation/effacing for a period of time. This was the only way they could determine if there was an infection causing me to go into labor. If they were able to stop, it would be more likely that I had "just" an incompetent cervix. Although he made an educated guess that I probably had infection based on the fact that I was in active labor and didn't just have a premature rupture membranes or a cervical effacement with no labor.

He said our only option at that point was to try tocolytics (strong and dangerous drugs to stop labor) and the Trendelenburg position. The Trendelenburg position is when the body is laid flat on the back (supine position) with the feet higher than the head 15-30 degrees.

Tocolytics are drugs used to stop labor and the one they put me on was called Magnesium Sulfate. It BURNED going in my IV. I think they may have used another that started with a T. They can be poisonous to the mother after a short time, only a few days, and each woman tolerates it differently. Tocolytics are dangerous because they can cause fluid to accumulate in the mother's lungs and they are poisonous to the baby as well when used for more than a few days at a time. It IS possible to be on it for a few days, off, on, off, to try and tackle suppression of long term labor with NO sign of infection but it's not recommended. We were willing to do that though, ANYTHING just to keep him in longer.

I mentally prepared for alternating Trendelenburg position and strict bedrest for the duration of the pregnancy or at least to 24-28 weeks. There was nothing that was too harrowing for me to try, just to gain a few weeks. That particular hospital had an excellent NICU and had a fairly new protocol that stated they would try and revive babies at 24 weeks gestation if we wished, no sooner. I hear stories now about babies revived at 21-22 weeks and being healthy long term and I'm AMAZED. Even back in 2005 at a hospital with the top notch NICU staff and technology couldn't do anything near what they can do now.

I digress, I HAD to have faith that I would make it 24 weeks. I was very positive even through all of this. I was determined. Our decision to revive at 24 weeks was something Josh and I had to discuss at length, review with the hospital, and sign for. We were not guaranteed that they could even revive him if born at 24 weeks as they never know the "condition" the babies are going to be in and it's completely individual to the mother and baby. individual even anyway. They never knew the state of a baby until they were out so they would not make any promises, even to revive. But we decided we would give him any chance possible if I could make it to 24 weeks and that is a post for another day.

At 22 weeks and 4 days, after all drugs, catheters, and IV's were removed, I was allowed to eat soft foods. I was still not allowed to get up. I was being monitored for contractions with straps and I remember feeling relieved that I was unencumbered and happy that after the first hour or two, I wasn't contracting. We even joked with my parents but I still refused to laugh, sneeze, cough, or breathe deeply for fear I would deliver him. I had banana pudding and struggled to pee for the first time in a plastic "chamber pot". Ian was PERFECT this whole time, kicking as usual, heart rate perfect.... through all of this. A nurse who came in to check on me noticed after about 2 hours that I was obsessively rubbing my stomach. She told me to stop and that it was a subconscious sign that my body was still preparing for delivery. WHAT????

His arrival:

Within that hour, the contractions returned. I was in denial. I thought, "they are strong, they will subside, we can do this." They started to get stronger and I had to call a nurse. Josh held my hand, I couldn't look at him. As soon as the nurse entered the room and I saw the look on her face (they were monitoring my contractions from the nurses station), I felt the rush of a million heartbreaks start to envelope me and as they quickly wheeled me out in the hall on the way to a delivery room, I let out a wail that was so gutteral and so haunting that Josh remembers it to this day. This wail and the proceeding screaming occured as if I was experiencing it from the outside. It was NOT me making these noises. All of the pent up fear, pain, anger, hurt came bellowing out like a waterfall.

I'm starting to get emotional and cry and I'm afraid I won't finish so I need to do this quickly and with facts.

The contractions started hard and fast. Everything happened immediately at this point. They got me in a delivery room and transferred to a new bed. They tried to get an epidural in but my vessels were too swollen because I was in labor. I had to do this without pain meds. I became hysterical and heard my heart rate plummet on the machine, told the anesthesiologist that I was losing my hearing and passing out. He gave me something to bring me to and told Josh and I that we couldn't have general anethesia. I told him I wouldn't agree to that anyway.

I was still hysterical, so they gave me morphine. Even through the morphine haze, the physical pain was unbearable. Plus the psychological pain and resistance of not wanting to push. The nurses and Doctor were horrified, screaming at me to push, that I HAD TO PUSH. I screamed back in agony. NO, I DON'T WANT TO. YOU HAVE TO. Delivering a baby that is not meant to be delivered is the most horrendous emotional and PHYSICAL pain I've ever experienced. I will just talk about the physical pain. I have been through two other labors and multiple miscarriages at various stages, a D &C a D&E, two cerclage placements and removals and I can tell you there is nothing of this magnitude. You would think because the baby is smaller, that it would be easier or less painful, but even though my body was in labor, it still did NOT want to deliver.

I delivered Ian Nathaniel Early still in his bag of waters at 5:07 pm April 14th, 2005.  My bag of waters was black indicating infection and they broke it. He was 15 ounces and 11 inches. I did not want to hold him at first so they took him to the table and were surprised to see his heart still beating. They said they didn't know how long he had and did we want to hold him. I said no still, I couldn't, I was so sorry my baby. Josh said yes and they handed Ian to him wrapped up. I was still hysterical, apologizing and weeping to him in hysterics, obsessively, over and over.  Josh brought him up to his face, cried over him, told him how much we loved him and held him over me on my chest as he opened his mouth and tried to take a breath. I was both HORRIFIED and OVERWHELMED at the same moment. His perfection and beauty was OVERWHELMING and his dying in front of me was HORRIFYING. HE was PERFECT and such a beautiful mix of the two of us, just too small. I remember being shocked that he was alive but couldn't move his limbs. My parents were weeping to my left watching this. My mom (my parents were there and our priest to baptize him) could not BELIEVE that I took his towel off and looked at his perfect muscular little body. She cried "Why are doing that, leave him be!" My dad said "STOP it Jan, let her do it, she wants to he looks like." I kissed his nose and was HORRIFIED that it permanently dented his nose. My kiss damaged him while he was alive.... while he was dying. It's in the only picture we have, taken after he died. I was shocked that he was gasping for a breath that he would never have. The only thing we saw move on him was his little mouth automatically opening and close for breath, like a fish. Josh and I watched him go from fairly pink, to dark pink, to red as his brain bled under his skin, to purple, to blue. We saw it all because it skin was so thin and vasculature was right at the surface. He was gone that fast. Minutes. His eyelids were still fused together but he had the most incredible bright blue eyes that were visible through his paper thin eyelids. They were brighter than the brightest sky and ice combined.

A nurse asked for a picture. We handed him over for a moment. We see a smile in his picture. His eyes and smile were perfectly innocent and free from the horror we were experiencing. We cling to that. We held him for hours and finally gave him up in the middle of the night and left the hospital empty handed. That was the worst part but again, I will get into that another time.

Thank you for listening to Ian's story. Thank you for reading about our short time with our precious baby.

I was/am infertile.

*This is a post to avoid if you don't want to read about periods, my sexual activity, and PCOS. Definite TMI but I want the information out there.

I was infertile and I suffer from secondary infertility now.

Wow, that was hard to write. The emotional and spiritual issues associated with all of that will have to wait for another post. I feel I need to clarify some things about me:

I was as infertile as they come. Unable to conceive. For years. Many, many years. It was my issue. Without embarrassing my husband and putting information he doesn't want on here, let's just say he and his stuff excels in this area and leave it at that.

Some background: I was a late bloomer. I got my period at 12 and it has NEVER BEEN REGULAR. Not one. The periods differed in severity, some months when it finally came it was nothing, sometimes it was MAJOR and crippling. But more times than not, it was nothing. The first year I was dating my husband, I remember we noted that I had only 4 periods that year and we had sex every.single.day that year. There was no way I was ovulating. You might be wondering "why would she be taking that chance not using birth control without a diagnosis or knowing for sure. I always "knew". I don't know how else to explain it. I was sexually active for many, many, many years before being married and never used any form of birth control. I wasn't diagnosed with PCOS (poly cystic ovarian syndrome) until I was 19 but I always knew. I have always been "stocky"- overweight, whatever, very Italian looking, thick head hair, short, tomboy, had a period of bad acne in college, etc.  I was also raised by strict Catholic parents and birth control and sex was not discussed. Birth control was not available to me. I was supposed to just abstain. Except I was premiscous. My entire life was controlled, except for the times I was able to be sexually active and hide it from my parents. That was my rebellion. I was naive and uneducated.  I spent years just hoping that "things would work out" and I wouldn't end up pregnant. I didn't even want to be married or have children, ever. In fact, I contemplated having an abortion if I were to ever get pregnant prior to meeting my husband at 19. But even then, then I somehow knew conceiving would be a challenge. In college when my husband and I had been dating for over a year, contemplating marriage, and I wasn't feeling well, I decided to be checked out. I went to a doctor and explained all of the lovely PCOS symptoms, had blood work done, said I read up on it and wanted to get on birth control to regulate myself and make sure I didn't get pregnant (haha) in the beginning of our marriage.

My blood work came back with HIGH testosterone and high insulin levels. I was diagnosed with PCOS and insulin resistance based on those results alone. I have never been hairy, never had actual cysts on my ovaries (although I'm SURE I have but it just hasn't been documented), never had skin tags or a lot of the other things that come along with it. But they said I had it just the same and that a lot of women don't present with all of the symptoms and that it's completely individual.

I was also told that "you may never be able to have children. Conception will be difficult at the very least." It was blunt and said very coldly. If I didn't already have a clue, I would have fallen apart at that appointment. And that was back when I didn't want children!!

I was placed on 500 mg of Metformin/Glucophage twice daily which was fairly new and controversial at the time. I was also placed on birth control. I immediately lost 20 pounds within a two month period due to the Metformin and it TORE my stomach up. I had a love/hate relationship with it and I would go on and off of it on a whim. Same with the birth control.

After we were married, I tried to 6 months to a year without BOTH and I gained 50, yes FIFTY pounds in that 6 month- 1 year period. I also came home every day and went straight to bed. My periods were irregular again and I had no libido and no energy. Not good for a new marriage.

I made a drastic decision that I was just sick of myself, went back on the Metformin and birth control, went on the SOUTH BEACH diet, was strict and stuck with it, and ran every day. I'm not sure how I did it. I have never and may never have that kind of self control/management again. Having my husband on board also helped. South Beach was new, the hype was all over and HUGE, low carb stuff was available everywhere (even at Hardees and McDonalds!!) and I saw immediate results. IMMEDIATE. Within the first three days. I've dieted a lot over the years, and this is the ONLY way my body can lose weight. The only way. I HAVE TO cut carbs. Nothing else works. And it's hard because I CRAVE carbs, even on Metformin. It was terribly hard but seeing my body change and my energy increase was so reassuring and that's what kept me going. I also think I have some major auti-immune issues going on and that it was a miracle I ever had any lasting pregnancies, but I do believe the South Beach helped with my inflammation and flares back then so that whatever is wrong with me in that regard was kept at bay (I'm only now going through testing for all of that, yes after completing our family, that's a whole other post though) I was about 23ish when I South Beach and all of that jazz and it had nothing to do with my biological clock at the time. I thought babies were way off and still wasn't sure if I wanted children. The drive to do this was strictly to feel better.

We made a huge move to Florida around that time and decided as soon as we moved down there that we wanted to start a family. We weren't ready but for some reason, BAM, my biological clock was a-ticking. I think starting fresh there, the sunshine, being lonely... they all were reasons I wanted to have a baby.

I came off my birth control (this is an important fact I will talk about in a minute) and I picked up an ovulation kit that September/October we moved just to see if I was ovulating. I had one period after coming off of the birth control, ovulated on time according to the kit (I was still so much less informed than I am now) and we did the deed. I got pregnant right away, didn't realize it like so many women wish, took a pee test a week after my period was supposed to be due, and it came back positive. WHAT? SO easy now that I knew what my body needed! Wow! I went in to the doctor that next week, it was now November, and found out I was 8 weeks and 5 days pregnant. We saw the heartbeat! My very first pregnancy, how awesome right? Unfortunately, this story doesn't end well, my sweet sweet Ian was lost at 22 weeks.

After we lost Ian we conceived N fairly easily after about 4 months. I did have to go on and off birth control for about 1-2 months.

Let me say no, and I have NO IDEA why this is- could be the PCOS and/or the auto-immune issues but it needs to be said. I've seen some other women experience this too. I have ONLY EVER BEEN ABLE TO GET PREGNANT COMING STRAIGHT OFF BIRTH CONTROL. Withing the month, either no period and I got immediately pregnant or had one cycle and then got pregnant. I'm thinking it regulated my body in a way that only birth control could do and my body, no matter what diet and exercise regiment I'm on, does not regulate itself to allow a "sticky" or long lasting pregnancie. Over the last few years I have gotten pregnant a few months after going off birth control (2-4 months) but they have ALWAYS ended in first trimester miscarriages. I DON'T think it's just a fluke.

I don't know if having my first somehow "kicked my reproductive system into gear" but I was surprised that we got pregnant with Nathan so easily. It could have been that my cervix was still very soft and effaced and the sperm just got right up in there. We will never know. We thought it would take longer.

Another thing that I feel needs to be documented with reproductive immunology booming now. I have had hives (some HORRIBLE all over my body and some barely there) with every.single.miscarriage. I always knew when those pregnancies were doomed. Except of course with my first pregnancy, my first loss, at 22 weeks, because that was not an early miscarriage and was due to incompetent cervix and Beta strep/Group B strep.

So back to my first and "easy" pregnancy. I was a naive new pregnant woman, not wanting to ask too many questions and make a stink with my concerns, at a group practice HMO that had sub-standard care with doctors I never saw more than once. First symptom when I KNEW something was wrong and should have spoken up- I had a RAGING fever at 11 weeks, that had me in shakes, chills, and hotflashes, feeling almost dead for days and they said "Don't worry about it, your immune system is lowered during pregnancy and you will be more susceptible to being sick". I was passing out, dizzy, and out of breath constantly, blacking out, seeing spots, and had a tender abdomen the entire time. I was told, "It's all normal". I had unusual thoughts of impending doom, anxiety, night terrors about losing my baby, sleeplessness, violent outburts and I was told "These are pregnancy symptoms." I tried to suck it up. I was impossible to live with. I knew deep down that something was very wrong but again, I was naive and uneducated. I had NO IDEA how wrong it could be. And I will stop here because I want to tell the rest as part of Ian's story.

I suffered from secondary infertility after my second was born, N, and it took us five years and a horrendous miscarriage to conceive C. I also suffer from it now, but we are done growing our family. I feel I had some chemical pregnancies inbetween there but I wasn't considering them pregnancies at that time. I have been pregnant since C multiple times and I have lost them at various times during the first trimester. I STRONGLY feel that there were THREE specific reasons I was able to conceive C in July of 2010 and that they all had to be "in line" in order for this to occur. I feel I know my body well after all of this so here it is.

The first, is that I had a miscarriage and emergency D&C on January 1st 2010. I see literature now showing that women with implantation problems and possible auto-immune issues undergoing IVF have a "injury" to their lining in order to help with that. Doctors will put a slice or do a D&C if I'm not mistaken to aid in the chances of implantation. I also think the first cerclage Shirodkar stitches I had placed with N so soon after losing Ian (which some pieces have been left in there, can't be retrieved) and the Teflon tape they used to keep it shut, may have interfered with me getting pregnant for many years. I feel that having my cervix stretched with the miscarriage and D&C in January somehow aided in my conceiving C in July. I have NO other reason to believe this other than a feeling I have. No doctors have mentioned either the cerclage or the tape affecting future fertility.

The second, is that I had came straight off of birth control and didn't even have a period when we conceived C.

The third is that I was not having ANY auto-immune flares of any kind. Which was unusual for me. It was just a good month, no allergies, no hives, no tiredness, no joint aches and pains, no hair loss, no edema, none of the lovely auto-immune issues that I face daily and have for years.

Call it luck, call it divine intervention, call it what you may, but I do REALIZE what a miracle it is that my body brought two living children into the world, particularly my second living child, knowing the full extent of how fucked up my body is (and I'm still learning).

I hope this helps some of you who are struggling with the same. This is SO MUCH LONGER than I intended!

Cerclage detail that I forgot- Teflon tape!

Oh my goodness, my husband just remembered a HUGE detail about my FIRST cerclage (two Shirodkar stitches, NO CERVIX at the time of placement). The doctor also used a Teflon tape, yes, Teflon tape vertically along the inside of my cervix to keep it shut along with the stitches. I have never heard of anyone else having this done and I have no idea if this is common practice or if this is something he felt he needed to do to keep N inside because the situation was so bad at only 10 weeks. Just like he decided to do the second stitch mid surgery. So, hubby gets the credit for remembering this detail, and I'm so sorry I didn't put this in sooner!

To Ian, on your brother's birthday

Hello my dear one. It's late at night and everyone else is asleep. This is one of the times I feel closest to you. I almost feel as if you are here to celebrate C's birthday as well. I miss you darling. I wish all three of my boys could be with me together. It would be a wonderful life, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. I don't know if you actually watch over us, in fact I hope you are joyfully and blissfully oblivious to the crap here among the living. Yet I feel you strongly sometimes, especially when it involves N and C and I can't help but daydream that you watch over them, laugh at their ridiculous hijinks, and send amazing love to them (and me). Your birthday is coming up next in the "boys consecutive birthday months" haha. They will celebrate your birth and passage to a brighter world with a party just like this one. I'm amazed at how they celebrate someone they've never met. And they do it with no negativity, just joy and thankfullness for the connection to you in the limited way they know. They feel connected to you as brothers even though you came first. It's amazing. I constantly learn from them. As the grief of your loss fades, I find comfort in our chats, and I appreciate my living children. They heal me. I will always long for you and thinking of your short time here will always bring me pain, but I'm making progress. I will always be a work in progress. I will never be "fixed" or completely healed because I will always remember. And that's ok. I would rather have the experience/memories that I have and be broken, than to have never experienced you and be whole. Which means you have taught me true love in ways I didn't know existed, selflessness, humility, and most of all patience. I'm slowly starting to reach out, share your story, maybe your picture, and I'm trying to help some women get through similiar trying times. Or at least connect with others who have been through similiar experiences so that no one feels alone. You have done that for me Ian. This was not something I did on my own. I fought it for 8 years in fact. But you come to me and whisper to me and your story and your life repeats in my head. I see your story in other women and I could no longer stay silent. I wanted to keep you all to myself. I felt entitled to some selfishness. That if I had to go through those horrors, then I wanted you, the only good and perfect and beautiful part of that mess, all for myself. I wanted to covet you, keep you secret, keep you untainted, my secret that no one else is privy too because they didn't experience the PAIN and the GRIEF. But that is not what your life is about. It's not about me. It's not about this world hurting you, it can't hurt you. What we went through was horrible. But there are so many people going through the same horrors, looking for answers and support. I will be there for them now. I will tell them about my Ian. The ups the downs, the dirty messes of my life, how we managed to build a family with constant loss, sadness, and grief.... this is my job in this life. Your job has been fulfilled and that was to bring us together, albeit briefly, which would lead to great change in me. Meeting you in the way we did, has made me a better person. A person who can now stand up on her own two feet and say "Let me tell you about our first son and what happened to us." I love you sweetheart. I'd give anything for another few minutes completely free of Morphine and all consuming grief, to do it over, do it right, connect in a less messy way. I'd take just one minute. I miss you so baby. Always. I love you Ian.

"It's a sign"

Those words came out of my dad's mouth AT LEAST three times day, every day of my entire life. Subsequently, as I grew older and my relationship with my parents soured, I CRINGED when I heard that and forcefully believed that there was NO SUCH THING AS SIGNS. That there was no connection between something that happens now and something that is supposed to happen in the future. Then we started having difficulties with building our family and after I started suffering losses, my belief in "signs" vascillated depending on which stage of grief I was in. Back then, "signs" to me was wrapped up in a package that involved many other things stemming from my Catholic upbringing. And those things contradicted one another. For instance, "it's a sign that it was meant to be" or "God is in control" completely contradicts "we have free will" and another they taught "if we choose to do bad things, bad things will happen to us and if we choose to do good things then good things will happen to us."

At that point, I had just about given up on Catholicism (please don't give opinions on religion this is just for back story) and I had never experienced these "signs" at that point so I was able to let that whole line of thought go for the moment.

And then I experienced a "sign". A clear and obvious one. Not one that you say "haha, maybe it's a sign!" No this was a ..... a KNOWING. And I was caught off guard because I was getting comfortable in my life thinking that nothing had any rhyme or reason. It took an insane pressure off of me frankly. So this hit me like a ton of bricks. But then a few more occurred, not many, but they occurred during difficult times when we were trying to build our family. Obvious signs and knowings. I didn't know what to do with it. I've been thinking about this for years.

So is it possible to believe in a kind and loving God, that does not intervene, who does not believe in the "deserving way of life", who knows how our life will turn out and offers us some "knowings" or "signs" to get us through? When and how did he put these things in place... I just don't know. I can't even imagine that I could ever know such things in this life. I've even accepted that my life map was written out for me and I was to follow this exact path in order to learn the lessons I need to learn in this life. I'm able to stomach all of that, signs included, as long as I keep in mind that I did nothing to deserve what has happened in my life. That I try my best and work with the life and experiences that have befallen me. Yes, I'll take that.

I always think about this topic around this time of year because C was born March 24th, our youngest. Ian was born/died on April 14th, our oldest. And N was born May 8th, he is our second oldest. They each have consecutive birthday months. Obviously unplanned. Now that I look back on that (and I did think about this on C's birthday) that is a sign to me that everything worked out as it should have. This is something very important to the boys. The signs that I speak of that happened during the tumultous years were even more shocking.

There are also things that I often think about and wonder if they are signs as well, but I don't know if I will ever put them in that category. N's conception occurred on Ian's due date. We were in such a bad place that we didn't even recognize the date when it came, only after the fact did we realize that we conceived him on Ian's due date. A sign? Not sure. I was born on my maternal grandmother's birthday. Ian, was born and died on my paternal grandmother's birthday. A sign? If they are, I don't know what that means.

Sorry for the random topic, it just popped in my head today and I thought I would blog about it :-)

Cutting ties

One of the worst things about this journey is how it has changed me. One of the best things about this journey is how it has changed me.

Confused? Me too.

Today's post will be short. 

As the years have gone by and fires have burned bright, my circle of friends has greatly dwindled for many reasons. I have a great number of friends that I can keep in touch with on facebook and that is great for me right now because I can get/give support easily through there at a time when I am "benched" at home.  I have very few people that I actually spend time with these days IRL. Some of it is intentional and some is not. I'm currently a SAHM and my husband takes our one car to work. I don't have money to see people. It's a bummer but my kids are my priority right now. 

What's sad is that I'm realizing that even though I'm technically "through" the trials of building a family, my relationships are still changing. Even my dearest and closest and oldest friends. Even with people who have stuck with me through the nitty gritty of building our family. I'm trying to understand why I can't stay connected with certain people. I'm realizing that no matter how much I try to be a Melanie that somewhat resembles the Melanie they knew and loved, I'm not. That, coupled with the fact that I still don't have the emotional energy/capacity to put into a "new" relationship between that person and the Melanie I am now, is resulting in me having to cut ties. 

It's sad. But I'm realizing that there is nothing I can do. It wouldn't be fair to string them along. It's not fair to expect others to wait around while I figure out who I am now and how I fit into things., 

I've held a lot of guilt about this but this is something that I have to let go. I have to realize that it doesn't make me a bad person. It just means I'm a different person. Things change. Friendships end. Other friendships begin. Life continues.

Pregnancy after loss

I've been struggling to start getting into the nitty gritty on my blog. I've really been struggling with posting Ian's story but I will get into that another time. Bear with me. Please leave feedback of any kind- comments, suggestions, requests, anything, I need the feedback to fuel me. I need to know that people are hearing me or else I feel alone and I hate feeling alone. So please COMMENT, even if anonymously! And if you are friends and family reading this, most likely you are not the ones mentioned below ;-) The whole preaching to the choir thing ya know.

I'm noticing that I feel anxiety when I blog instead of it being therapeutic because I feel everything needs to be fully and perfectly detailed and laid out. I feel it has to be long, informational, accurate, sometimes positive, etc. And that is making the thought of consistent blogging sound daunting and overwhelming. So instead of hide. I will try and post more frequently but it will be messy, emotional, and sometimes short, sometimes long. Sometimes I will write a bit and then come back to an idea. I need to get this stuff out there. So that's that :-) Also, I love punctuation of all kinds!!! I'm Italian, I need to speak on the internet in the same way I talk in real life and punctuation helps with that.

I've finally decided on the first topic from my list http://angelheartsforever.blogspot.com/2013/01/topics-for-discussion-for-you-all-to.html because I've read some blogs of women going through a difficult pregnancy after loss, and they are struggling with their feelings and with the feelings of others. I'll explain. 

Pregnancy after loss

I've had the pleasure of sharing stories and following a few women around the world via internet who are currently pregnant after experiencing a loss. I know that for me, being able to share my struggles with these ladies and have them understand and KNOW exactly what I'm talking about has been incredibly healing for me and enlightening in many ways. I think these women are brave and strong for reaching out during the toughest times. I did not choose to connect with anyone during our roughest times over the last eight years. There were a number of reasons. I've always isolated myself in times of extreme stress and trauma. That is my "go to" defense mechanism and it may not be the best, but it's what I had at the time to get me through. Also, the supportive internet communities were not built up the way they are now back in the early 2000's when our difficulties started. I can count on one hand people I've met in real life who have experienced similar losses and struggles. Baby loss and struggles with pregnancy are NOT talked about enough. Yes, it's hard to and depressing to discuss dead babies and negative feelings during pregnancy. I'm seeing a lot of these women struggling with it now and I've decided to bring light to this particular topic. The lack of proper support in all aspects of our life while going through the tragedy that is multiple loss while trying to build a family was a BIG issue for my husband and I. We blindly made our way through this journey with little to no support. The devastation, depression, and difficulty we experienced was made MUCH WORSE by the general lack of understanding, consideration, sensitivity, information, and insight. It doesn't have to be this way. So let's talk about it.

Please read- Women/couples who have experienced a loss at any gestation of pregnancy no matter how early or late, no matter what the circumstances were, no matter if it was child 1, 10, or 100, SHOULD NOT BE REQUIRED BY SOCIETY TO FIND ANY SUBSEQUENT PREGNANCIES/BIRTHS/CHILDREN STRESS FREE, JOYFUL, EASY, ETC. We should not be made to feel BAD for experiencing and verbalizing our feelings at any time in our lives. WE SHOULD NOT BE REQUIRED TO LIVE UP TO ANYONE ELSE'S EXPECTATIONS for how we should be feeling during subsequent pregnancies. WE SHOULD NOT BE TOLD BY ANYONE ELSE TO FEEL EXTRA THANKFUL for this "second/third/fourth/millionth chance". Another pregnancy with ANOTHER BABY does not replace the baby we lost. So don't say "at least you can have more" or "Hey, at least this one is living, be thankful for that". KEEP THOSE COMMENTS TO YOURSELF. Period. 

There are so many aspects to pregnancy after loss that are indescribable. Your mind, emotions, soul, and body go through horrors that no one should have to experience, but here we are. So at least let us GRIEVE and PROCESS and GROW OUR FAMILIES how we choose. When you get pregnant after a loss, you have to endure the loss again, over and over, at every stage of this new baby's life. Can we say PTSD anyone? Repeat trauma? It's a real mind fuck I'll tell ya. No, it's a SOUL fuck. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. When I think back to my pregnancies after losing Ian, I can't BELIEVE what I endured. I can't BELIEVE we made it out ALIVE and still married. Especially with many other losses peppered in between and after my two living sons. Subsequent pregnancies can sometimes bring us a whole new level of fear, stress, anxiety, isolation, guilt, heart ache, pain, apathy, grief and so on. Things that we were expecting to feel. Things that aren't talked about widely and are taboo. We certainly don't need others "expectations"  and thoughtless comments on top of all the other crap we have to deal with. 

"The bright side" and "the positives" don't need to be brought to our attention to support us or "help us" to have a successful pregnancy. We don't need that kind of support. If you don't know what else to say, then say CONGRATULATIONS and nothing else. Comments like "wow, this one must be meant to be. Everything happens for a reason" or "why are you stressed, things are going so much better and you are farther along" or my favorite "I know that this one will work out. No worries.This one will be fine" minimizes our pain, minimizes the life of the baby we lost, and minimizes the ENORMITY of carrying a baby after a loss.  "I know this one will be successful" and "everything happens for a reason" always gets my goat.... I can't stand it when people claim they they KNOW things will work out this time or that things didn't work out last time for a reason.... UMMMM, are you GOD? Are you psychic? Did you come back from the future to tell me this? NO. Don't tell me that to make me feel better or because you think I need to hear this crap. We don't want to hear your guarantee because NOTHING is guaranteed. Another breath on this earth is not guaranteed. No one knows the future outcome of any situation. NOTHING IS FOR CERTAIN SO WE DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT. If you say it because you are uncomfortable with loss and pain and want to bury it and ignore it, then you shouldn't be having this conversation to begin with. Or if you really want to say something supportive find another "go to" phrase like "I'm here if you need me" or even "I know it must be difficult and scary going through another pregnancy, I'm here if you need to talk". That one is awesome in my book!

Trust me, we KNOW how lucky we are for this next baby in our belly. We are appreciative in ways you can't even imagine. HOWEVER, all of our feelings of appreciation, love, thankfulness, and even gasp JOY can be smothered and even snuffed out by FEAR of losing this new baby in our belly and the following:

Women who have suffered a loss and then achieve another pregnancy have been robbed. Robbed of precious things that can never retrieved or bought back or reclaimed. We've been robbed in some of the worst ways a person can be robbed.

*Robbed of the life of our child/children we lost.

*Robbed of the joys of pregnancy. 

*Robbed of the innocent joy and sharing that couples can enjoy with each other without the huge black cloud of fear, traumatic memories, and shared pain.

*Robbed of connecting with your baby without the constant fear of another loss at EVERY SECOND of this pregnancy. 

*Robbed of a pregnancy free of a previous or many previous losses, subconscious and sometimes conscious defense mechanisms trying to wean there way into this innocent space and protect us against further loss/trauma/pain. 

*Robbed of sharing the news early, joyfully, and without hesitation.

*Robbed of being able to shop and plan early. 

*Robbed of experiencing a birth that is untainted by the thoughts and feelings of another experience with another child.

*For many of us this was a loss of "firsts". First baby, or first boy, first girl, all the firsts of that pregnancy that was lost. We can never those "firsts" back in a successful subsequent pregnancy.

Even after our rainbow baby is born healthy, alive, and kicking, everything we experience with that baby is tainted with the memory of another who could have been. NO, we can't "get over it" or "forget them" or "move on" because the memory is always there. It's like telling us to remove our brain or have a lobotomy. It can't be done.... or undone. No amount of appreciation, no immense gratitude for having a healthy baby, no amount of unconditional love, can make it ok that our other baby/babies died. But that's for another post.

So if you've experienced a loss and have dealt with the world wondering what the hell was wrong with you during a subsequent pregnancy when you weren't elated and were super cautious- YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 

~If you've experienced a loss and have dealt with the world judging you for having post partum depression after a rainbow baby is born- YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

~If you've experienced a loss and have dealt with the world minimizing the presence of the child you carried and the impact the loss of that baby had on you and your partner- YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

~If you've experienced a loss and have dealt with the world wondering why you are still grieving and having difficulty parenting any other children because of depresssion, anxiety, grief, sadness, insomnia, etc.- YOU ARE NOT ALONE. 

~If you've experienced a loss and have dealt with the world wondering why your rainbow baby didn't automatically heal your relationship with your partner (or God, or anyone else for that matter)- YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

Hopefully I've been able to verbalize the great injustice done to those who suffer loss and are trying to build their families and raise some awareness for those who are lucky enough to never have to experience pregnancy loss. If a friend or loved one is having difficulty in a new pregnancy after a loss, keep your expectations, ignorant comments, and observations to yourself. Don't try to placate them, or relate to them, or tell them empty things you think they want to hear, and don't feel you have to try to keep it "light". Recognize that this is hard and that this isn't your run of the mill pregnancy. Many of the comments from others that bring pain are not said with that intention. But PLEASE be aware of the things that come out of your mouth when you speak to someone who has gone through/is going through ONE OF THE WORST HORRORS a person can experience. I'm still appalled when I hear someone's early miscarriage disregarded  and blown off as "well, your body took care it early before it had some horrible defect" or "well, it wouldn't have survived anyway so why are sad" and the oh so comforting "well, be glad it was an early one so you can get back to trying". Do any of those sound comforting? NO. If you don't feel that babies are babies unless they are born, or five pounds, or "perfect" then don't be put in a situation where you will be speaking to a woman after a loss. Or just keep your mouth shut! If you can't earnestly offer support with no tone or hint of condescension, DON'T SPEAK to the woman who suffered a loss. I personally would rather have NO SUPPORT from a person that is going to inadvertently say the wrong things and cause more pain. 

This is not something I ever had the emotional capacity/energy at the time to confront. I regret that now, of course, because they've probably hurt others after me just out of sheer ignorance. Hindsight is 20/20 and I'm seeing it as a different person now- a person not in shock, a person not reeling from trauma, a person not trying to just keep the peace and make others comfortable, a person that wants to advocate for others who may not have the emotional capacity/energy to confront this right now. 

I've been at many different parts of this spectrum and I've heard it ALL and dealt with many different types of ignorance and lack of insight. I've had more early miscarriages than I count, some most people don't even know about because I didn't want to deal with all the wrongs things that are said/done, and my hubby and I decided it would just be easier to deal with on our own. That's pretty sad but that's how it is. We lost our first child Ian, second trimester loss, sudden, unexpected, back at a time when I had very little knowledge and was VERY naive. I've suffered through two INTENSELY HORRIBLE pregnancies with cerclages. How can I look back at a successful pregnancy and categorize it under "horrible" you ask?

^Because I had a harsh lesson in "there are no guarantees" and I went through every possible thing that could go wrong so that I wasn't blindsided again.

^Because I haven't forgotten the overwhelming FEAR, SADNESS, and SHEER TERROR that I felt during every.single.second of every single pregnancy that if I coughed, sneezed, ate, pooped, peed, had sex, sat down, stood up, bent over, walked, cried, and even breathed, it would cause the demise of this much loved new little baby. 

^Because I haven't forgotten that I had to GRIEVE for the living child that was in my belly at that moment because I had to be psychologically prepared in case that baby died as well. If I wasn't prepared, I'm fairly certain I would have gone off the deep end in some way.

^Because I haven't forgotten the spiritual turmoil

^Because I haven't forgotten

^Because I remember the SMOTHERING and SNUFFING of each positive feeling that can accompany finding out you are expecting- joy, appreciation, gratitude, excitement, sharing, etc.

Society as a whole, needs to be better about validating people's feelings experiences, no matter how negative and uncomfortable, in general. Fuck taboos. We are HUMAN. It's in our nature to share, to try and understand each other, and to gain knowledge. WE CONNECT AND HEAL BY SHARING, whether we are teaching, learning, commiserating, sympathizing, empathizing. Sharing that leads to understanding and healing CANNOT be successful if there is judgement, pre-conceived notions, egos, disrespect, pity, ignorance, and expectations involved.  Among many other things. Shit happens to everyone. All kinds of shit. This is just the particular shit we have had to deal with. Ignoring it, burying it, spinning it, and trying to change it is helpful to NO ONE. 

So there is it. The first topic that was discussed from here http://angelheartsforever.blogspot.com/2013/01/topics-for-discussion-for-you-all-to.html, COMPLETE! If there is another from that list that you want me to address next, please let me know.

Please provide feedback even if it's one word and anonymous. Let me know that you here reading, please. I need to know that things I say and feel are meaningful and that it reaches others in some way. Thanks!!