Our dream coming true...

In early January, we booked a vacation to Disney World for spring break with our best friends. As we were planning our vacation, I was picturing myself almost four months pregnant lounging poolside with a virgin daquiri. Not even two weeks later, I went on to have my third miscarriage. The days and weeks that followed only made me long for a getaway even more. Our Disney vacation was magical for so many reasons. Seeing Benjamin and his best buddy so unbelievably happy and excited all the time brought on feelings of pure joy that I wished would never go away. On the third day of our vacation, I woke up in the bedroom of our condo with an overwhelming sense that I was pregnant. It wasn't physical...I didn't feel any different. Plus, I hadn't even missed my period yet. It was this intense feeling and I was so confident I was pregnant, that we stopped at a Publix grocery store on the way to Cocoa Beach so I could buy a test. So, there I was, in my bathing suit, sundress, and flip flops, peeing on a stick in the Publix bathroom. The double pink lines showed up before I even finished peeing. I wasn't surprised--but more, relieved that I could still trust my instincts. In the days that followed, I pretty much remained in shock. Once we got home and I had some time to digest, I decided that I didn't want to go through the quantitative HCG beta blood tests this time around. Going in every week to have my blood drawn just so they could call and tell me my levels were dropping and the pregnancy was failing would only add more anxiety anyway, what was the point?! The specialist OB didn't argue my decision, which made it easier. With some light spotting at about five weeks, the worry and fear took over and the week prior to our first appointment dragged on for what seemed forever. Finally, at six weeks, we went for our first appointment and ultrasound. I wasn't just nervous...I was off-the-charts panicked. But, a super strong heartbeat and perfect measurements opened the floodgates for tears of joy to stream down. Dr. Liu wanted to have my blood drawn to test my progesterone levels. He called me the following evening to let me know my levels were low. I was put on Prometrium (progesterone) twice daily to increase my levels. I went back two weeks later for another ultrasound, and even though I had no reason to suspect anything was wrong, I was still overcome with anxiety in the days and minutes that led up to that appointment. But alas, everything was A-okay, again! Praise the Lord---it was really happening! Dr. Liu and Dr. Barker were very pleased with how everything looked so far and I couldn't have been more elated. 

So, where are we now? 10 weeks, nausea has subsided, my energy levels are returning, I have acne like I'm 16 again, and I'm sporting a bump already. I started worrying when my pants wouldn't button last week because I don't think I started showing with Ben until at least 15 or 16 weeks. However, plenty of time with good ol' Google confirmed that a) my uterus never returned to its normal size after Ben, it already has a head start b) the hormones and body are veterans, they know what to do! and c) a typical subsequent pregnancy will start to show 4-6 weeks earlier than a first pregnancy. So, phew, I'm not just getting fat. In fact, I've gained 4 pounds at this point and feel pretty good about that. 

There are so many hopes I have for this pregnancy and so many things I/we'll do differently. First, I took advantage of being pregnant as so many first-time moms do. I know now that being pregnant isn't an excuse to eat whatever I want. More importantly, it's an obligation to provide my baby with nothing but fresh, wholesome goodness for nine months. Second, I wasn't healthy before I got pregnant with Ben anyway, it's a miracle he came out so perfect. I ate crap and I didn't exercise, before and while I was pregnant. This time, I am so excited to continue to move and stay fit. Third, we aren't finding out the sex of our miracle baby. My perspective has done a complete 360. With Ben, we found out the sex, had everything set up, clothes washed, car seat installed weeks ahead of time. This time, I could care less about all that "stuff." If this baby is a girl and she wears Ben's blue sleepers, so be it. If Bryan doesn't hook the car seat base up until the moment we have to go somewhere, so be it. Last, God willing, the birth of this baby will be much different. I won't count my chickens before they hatch, but I am praying that the hopes and dreams I have for bringing this baby into our arms will come true... 

 I was nervous when I found out I was pregnant. I am still nervous to be pregnant. But, I'm not scared. I'm not worried. The only way I can explain it is that I feel as if the miscarriages have been "plucked" out of my life. I know they happened, I still feel the sadness they caused, I still grieve over those lost babies. But when it comes to being worried about whether or not this baby will make it---I'm not. I feel as though God has "removed" the miscarriages from my life's timeline so that I have absolutely no reason to question this pregnancy. I guess that's what peace is. Here's a super awesome visual for my babble... 

I can't wait to meet my baby. I just can't wait. But, meanwhile, I'm going to soak up every single moment that the gift of carrying a life inside me has to offer. I am going to savor every ultrasound, savor every time I have to rubberband my pants or dig out the maternity clothes, savor every flutter, savor every kick...I don't want to miss one moment of being blissfully happy and so thankful to God for this answered prayer. 

7 weeks 

9 weeks 

10 weeks

“I sing for joy at the works of Your hands.” – Psalm 92:4 

Life is beautiful... 

Mommy of Four

I'm reading a book right now titled, What Was Lost: A Christian Journey Through Miscarriage. One chapter raises the question, "What happened to your lost baby?" The author shares her perspective, of course, and those of other moms. Some women believe their lost babies get a "re-do" and eventually find their ways to their mommies. Some women believe their babies go to Heaven and remain infants. Some women believe their babies go to Heaven and age as they would on Earth. Some women don't believe in Heaven, but still believe their babies are at peace and well. Some women don't believe their babies were actually babies. Where do I believe my babies are? Well, scientifically speaking, they dissolved into the lining of my uterus and I flushed them down numerous toilets. (Sorry for the graphic description, but I couldn't NOT say it...can we PLEASE find a more sacred, humane way to say goodbye and miscarry a little soul?!?) Even so, I find such great peace in believing their beautiful souls were freed before I even knew they had left me. I believe they are in the arms of the Lord, still growing and thriving with Him AND my loved ones who rejoice in Heaven. I believe that God has greater work for them in Heaven while I am left to do His work on Earth. I believe they're waiting for me, and one day, I'll hold them again. Many people believe that God has a blueprint for our lives, one set destiny, one true fate. I believe God has a plan for my life and it was written well before I was born. But, I believe there's more than one master copy. He is in complete control, but has somehow entrusted in me the ability to make the choices laid before me. It's like coming to a fork in the road and having to pick path A, B, or C. He can lay it all out, but I have to decide which way to be led. For so long, my paths were so very clear and I thought I had faith--true, devout trust in Him. But lately I feel blindfolded...I know the paths are before me, but I can't seem to make them out. For someone who always has to be in control, organized, and have everything in total "balance" in order to feel content, it is simply amazing to me that even though I can't see a damn thing, I have never felt more comforted and held in my life. I'm doing it. I'm letting go and letting God. I'm really and truly letting Him lead me without butting in before He's ready for me. 

I still cry. I still wake up in the middle of the night and can't breathe. I still can't turn my mind off and forget. I still panic when I realize I've gone a few minutes, or even hours, without thinking about "it," and then grow angry and frustrated that I have done something wrong by potentially forgetting. I still get angry. I still want to know why. Those feelings will likely never go away, and I don't know that I want them to. As crazy as it sounds, I think they're filling the holes in my heart that would be otherwise empty. After all, something is better than  nothing. Despite all of the bad, there is so much good. 

Life is still so beautiful... 

Myth v. Fact

There are so many misconceptions when it comes to how others perceive someone who has miscarried. So, in my mind, here's how they compare.

Myth #1: She has bad feelings or jealousy towards someone who is pregnant.

The truth is, for me at least, I couldn't be more overjoyed for a family member, friend, or colleague who is expecting a miracle. It warms my heart to know they'll get to experience how incredibly life changing the birth of a baby can be. When you go from a "regular" woman who had a "regular" pregnancy and expected another or many more "regular" pregnancies to a woman slapped with the label of "recurrent miscarraiges," all you want is NORMAL! When others hesitate or hold back to share the joyous news of their pregnancy, it makes you feel like someone who can't handle it or doesn't "fit" within the norm anymore..and all we really want is normal. Now, here's the exception...again, for ME at least....stranger lady on the street smoking a cigarette, wailing on a two-year-old, with eyes of sadness, anger, and hatred coupled with a nine month baby bump...yeeeeahh....her, I hate her. Enough said there.

Myth #2: She will want to wait months and months before trying again. 

(I am the author, after all, so these aren't research-based truths.) It's really, really, really, hard to heal from the pain of losing a baby. There aren't words that can justify the pain I have endured. So, why do I keep jumping into the fire? Who knows. I suppose when you want something so badly and your whole being aches for it, you'll do anything. I'd do anything to carry a baby in me again. I'd do anything to feel that bond that the birth experience, breastfeeding experience, etc. can provide. I'd give anything to give Benjamin a baby brother/sister because seeing the way he observes, comforts, and interacts with infants causes a physical pain in my heart.

Myth #3: Don't ask her how she's holding up, she won't want to talk about it.

Maybe at the time, in her particular mood, she won't want to talk. However, the worst thing you can do is pretend it is all okay again and time has passed and she's forgotten and moved on. It's like Groundhog Day...the events and people may change, but at the end of the day, the fact still remains that there's a piece of me that I may never get back.

Fact #1: She will continue to pour every ounce of herself into her work, home, family, and friends, but when everything gets quiet at the end of a day, the pain surfaces like a monster stepping out of the darkness. 


Benjamin, my twenty-five first graders, my husband, my friends, my family....I love to embrace them and do everything in my power to bring joy, happiness, success, laughter, all the GOOD into their lives. But at the end of the day, all of that "stuff" is washed away and I'm left with a longer To-Do list than I started the day with and emotional exhaustion that's off the charts. I have to learn to cool it...

Fact #2: After awhile,doctors are annoying.


It's probably due to where I'm "at" right now, but I'm taking a a much needed break from the medical junk that's been surrounding my body and mind. It's not who I am, it's not who I want to be, and it's not what I believe. I trust that medicine and science can do GREAT things, but I trust more in my God. HE can move mountains, HE can make miracles, HE can carry me when my legs give out. Since there doesn't seem to by a rhyme or reason for my "condition" right now, I'm making the choice NOT to be a Petri dish.

Fact #3: She did not exercise too hard, eat too little protein, drink too much coffee, stress too much over work and life, pick up her 30 lb toddler too much, etc, etc, etc. 


I didn't cause this. I did not decide their destiny. I just didn't. I can wonder "what if" every single day, but I didn't cause this to happen. I am healthy. I am capable. I am okay. I did it once...I have a perfect, smart, healthy almost three-year-old to prove that I can do it. I will do it again.

Weather, politics, celebrities, miscarriage?!?

I'm not sure why so many things in our society are so taboo. You can strike up a conversation with practically anyone on the forecast, upcoming election, or Lindsay Lohan's fiftieth arrest, but start talking about something personal, such as miscarriage, and all of a sudden the room gets quiet, people start fidgeting, and you're just stuck feeling like a moron. It's not like I'd actually go out onto the street and start declaring my feelings and deepest thoughts, but if someone asks how I'm doing now, I'm not afraid to give the raw truth anymore. And, if you know me you're in for a real surprise...I'm a talker. I'm just naturally a person who thrives on human interaction and communication, so talking makes me feel better. I have learned...

•  I don't have to pretend I'm superwoman.

•  I don't have to accept that just because ONE IN THREE pregnancies will fail, mine were loved or wanted any less. 

•  I can call my lost babies "babies," even though many will just see them as embryos, fetal sacs, or biochemical pregnancies.

•  I can be scared to death to get pregnant again, scared to death to go pee for nine months, and scared that no matter how careful and healthy and prayerful I've been, it may happen again. 

• It doesn't have to be a secret or part of my life people don't know about because it is SO much a part of who I am and what I'll be. 

You know that feeling when you're on a roller coaster, going up the hill, and the cars are making that "click-click-click" sound, and you're just waiting, anticipating, wishing you wouldn't have even gotten on in the first place, and then before you know it, you drop...and you start falling, and you can't breathe....but then you get to the bottom, and you start breathing again and it's all okay. That's what it feels like when you're riding the emotional roller coaster of losing something that was part of you for a time. Except sometimes, you keep waiting for that breath, and it just seems to take so damn long. Women have to breathe. A woman who's experiencing a loss needs to breathe. If she can feel comfortable and know that it's okay to talk about what's happening in her mind, soul, body, heart....she'll be able to catch that breath she so desperately has been waiting for.

What not to say...

Please print, fold, and refer to the following list whenever speaking to someone who's experiencing/experienced miscarriage: (J/K, but seriously, make an effort to mentally store it away for future reference.)

1. "Don't worry, it'll all work out eventually..."

2. "There's a reason."

3. "What does the doctor say?"

4. "Why is this happening?" (Gee, as if I know? Like I'm LETTING this happen intentionally!!)

5. "Are you okay?"

6. "Do you think it's because you don't eat meat?" (Don't laugh out loud, a few people have actually said this. Yeah......)

7. "At least you have one child." (I hate this one. Having a perfect, healthy toddler is more of a blessing than I deserve. However, because I grieve and get angered by the losses since him, doesn't mean I love him any less.)

8. "It's nature's way..."

9. "Maybe it's just not your time..." (No kidding?!?!)

And my all time favorite...

"Benjamin, when are Mommy and Daddy going to make you a big brother?!?"


In others' defense, I'm sure I may have even said these things before. (I really, really hope I didn't, but if I did...shit.) I realize that no one really ever knows what to say and honestly, there's really nothing you can say that will make it better or make the pain a little less. But what you can give is the gift of silence or a tear. Crying with, screaming with, and being angry with the person who feels like she's drowning can bring her above the water again. The worst thing you can do is try and offer positive thoughts. I know, that sounds so dumb. It's not that she doesn't want to hear or believe positive thoughts, it's just that hearing those kind, sincere things feels more like knives digging into a wound that can't possibly hurt anymore. She will welcome those positives one day...but just hold off. You'll know it's time to say them when she says them aloud first.

The Need to Grieve

Sent to me by a source I won't name, but instead will just say has carried me even though she's hundreds of miles away. She's my "soul sister" and always knows exactly what to say.

http://mothering.com/pregnancy-birth/the-need-to-grieve-miscarriage

January 29

Part of the mental and emotional exhaustion comes from keeping track of the timing and "what ifs" after miscarriage. So, here's my track record that haunts me from day to day. 

Baby #1: Benjamin Daniel Szczepanski (SO NOT a bad part of my track record...he is so much more of a miracle than I ever imagined.) How or why did God bless me with him? His reasons are bountiful I'm sure, but what I know is that my two-year-old ball of perfectness is giving me more strength than I could ever imagine.

Baby #2: Made it to seven weeks and miscarried naturally. My due date was January 29, 2012...today. Nine months seems so, so long ago. Never did I imagine I'd be grieving the loss instead of celebrating the miracle of a birth.

Baby #3: Miscarried at ten weeks. It was guestimated that his/her heart stopped beating between six and eight weeks. I was due on April 4, my best friend's birthday. 

Baby #4: After a little break and some healing time, we thought, "new year, new beginning, new baby?" Well, guess not. Baby #4 barely made it to five weeks. It is assumed implantation occurred and everything was all good until the placenta got all ticked off and gave up. Awesome.

 

Why a blog?

So, why am I starting a blog? Who would want to document all the sucky feelings and happenings that go along with losing pregnancy after pregnancy? Well, it's not that I want to rehash the emotions every time I sit down to type, but not doing so isn't exactly going to make a difference on how I'm dealing either. There are two main reasons that I can justify for now. First, one day, this "journey" will make sense and I may actually want to be able to "go back" and remember, reflect, whatever. Secondly, a Google search on miscarriage brings up thousands of sites that lead you to medical statistics, research, facts, yadda yadda. Ask anyone who's experienced miscarriage and they'll tell you all that crap is just crap when you feel like crap. Reading the whys and hows just left me feeling even more frustrated, irritated, and hurt. Was there anyone, anything out there that could validate what I was feeling? Yes and no. There are quite a few blogs already that do a pretty nice job of what I hope to do, too. This "idea" was laid upon my heart, and there's really no better reason to do something unless it's in your heart anyway. So, with that, a few disclaimers: 


1. I am not a nurse, doctor, or anyone who has any idea what she's talking about when it comes to the medical/scientific aspect of pregnancy and miscarriage. All I can offer is what I've taken from my doctors. 


2. Love it or hate it, I don't really care. But either way, keep your comments civil and appropriate. I'm not really worried about being offended, but someone who's in an unstable, emotional place might really go all psycho on you if you say something mean. So, just don't be mean. 


3. Now, to be a total hypocrite...I can be mean! No, just kidding. I'm not a mean person, I'm actually a very positive person who still loves life and lives it with passion. But what I can tell you is that the excess baggage of miscarriage can cause some pretty deep, many times negative emotions. The purpose of writing what I write is to help someone out there feel that she isn't alone, and what she's feeling is "okay," and feeling all "I hate the world" doesn't make her a bad person. 


4. Don't feel bad for me. I'm not blogging about miscarriage because I want you to feel bad for me and pity my situation. I have a support system bigger than big and best friends and family who love me beyond measure. So, thank you for your genuine care, concern, and prayer in advance. 


I know I won't be able to post daily, maybe even weekly. My goal is to at least update a few times a month. Then again, I may find that this was all nothing more than a dumb idea and totally scratch the whole thing.