pregnancies and miscarriages

Oh, mamas. I am writing this post for my beloved friends - a few who are pregnant for the first time and a few who have recently suffered miscarriages. I love you all.

I remember the feeling of reading my very first positive pregnancy test. There was just nothing to compare it to. After a year and a half of disappointment it had finally happened. The excitement, the expectations, the plans... just a mind spinning out of control with happiness and hopefulness. I imagine that is what most women pregnant for the first time feel. The ones who really want a baby anyhow and especially the ones who have been trying like hell to have one.

So, as I find out that my friends are about to become first time mothers I have so many thoughts rushing my mind. First, ultimate joy. So happy that they will get to experience the things that are most wonderful, picturing them holding their sweet baby for the first time, the baby names, the nursery - all that fun stuff. Next, hope. Wishing them the very best, no sickness, no complications - just a really amazing journey that they will enjoy and remember fondly for the rest of their lives. Lastly, fear. Fear that they could potentially endure a loss. A loss that so many experience, a loss that Gregg and I experienced.   

For my dearest loves who have recently suffered a loss: I am so very sorry. There's hardly a sentence I can conjure up that will make you feel any better. There aren't many things that you can do - you can cry and grieve, you can get pissed and ask WHY ME? and when you are ready you can move on. You can find that strength that has gotten you through everything else in your life and use it once again. I urge you to keep your faith. A positive attitude and sunny outlook really do make all the difference in the world. Don't give up, we are all praying for you and love you very much - you will make it through.

To the pregnant gals, I hope you are feeling well, I hope you are making the most of each day as best you can. I realize nausea and headaches and bloating and swelling can take the wind out of your sails but I assure you when you hold your precious baby in your arms you'll forget allllllll about those ailments. That was the old you. Your new life begins when you see your baby's beautiful face. Everything prior to that moment becomes blurred and semi-insignificant. You'll see what I mean soon enough and I can't wait 'til you do!

Thinking of you all, sending my love and prayers. Best wishes and many, many blessings!

Love,
Sheri

the one about working out ...

You were wondering when this would come up, weren't you? I've toyed with writing this post at least a dozen times over the past few years. I always talk myself out of it. This time, however, I've decided we're going to get into it. And a lot of you (ladies) are going to agree with me. Here we go...

Exercise. Middle fingers UP.
I can't stress enough how much I don't enjoy exercise. I just don't like it. I don't like lacing up my ugly sneakers (they're really not that bad looking, I just feel heinous in sneakers). I don't like setting aside time that could be spent doing other things (most likely cleaning which has already been done to satisfaction). I don't like sweating or lying on the floor doing ab workouts while my asthma creeps up making me feel disgustingly out of shape. I don't like staring at the wall, pounding feet on a treadmill. I don't wear cutesy workout gear or get all jazzed and smile like the dopey lady in the video. And I do NOT go to the gym. I throw on various combination outfits of black and gray, I stand in front of the television in my bedroom, turn the ceiling fan on high, do what 'the lady' says for thirty minutes, kick my stupid sneakers off and immediately shower. And THEN I feel fantastic.

Yes. Only thirty minutes. Get over it. I just can't commit to anything longer than that and have the routine stick. I've tried it all. Believe me. I've been steadily exercising since I was in my late teens. I have to. I'm 5'1" and built like my Great Aunt Rosie. (No offense, Rosie, you were a lovely woman and a helluva good cook). I will confess that after I had the miscarriage (I had exercised during the first trimester) I didn't do a thing during my second pregnancy. Try to tell me that's not healthy. I'll knock your teeth out. After having Scarlett it took me almost four months before I could do much of anything (due to the C-section recovery). When I started back up I started slow. I rotate twenty different workout routines. Interval training mostly. Aerobics/cardio, weights, toning and stretching. They're only a half hour, true, but they get the job done. Sure, I'm not shedding pounds but I'm not gaining them either. I remain seven pounds less than I was before my pregnancy.

Just yesterday I noticed how tired I've been feeling. I thought about it for a minute and realized that I had slacked a bit on the exercising over the past two weeks. I had just been a good mix of busy and lazy. But man, could I tell the difference. It is amazing how my energy plummets when I'm not faithful. I'd much rather just do the damned thing than feel sluggish. So I continue to fight the lifetime battle.

Most of you are probably surprised to hear that I do any physical activity at all based on my overall appearance. (That sentence is going to piss off my husband - sorry, babe). It's not much of a secret that I have image issues. I'm the one that will bitch you out for tagging me in a facebook photo if I haven't given the thumbs up. I'm incredibly sensitive when it comes to horrible photos. I am constantly cropping out my arms, my forehead and my torso and forever moaning about my double chin. Hey, what can you do? I am willing to bet that 82% of you readers are almost as obsessed as I am. (I suck at math so we're not actually going to calculate that).

I don't know that I'll ever be satisfied with my appearance. I do know that I'll always have to workout in order to keep the rest of Auntie Rosie at bay. Overall, I'm incredibly thankful to be healthy - that's really all that should matter. And all the bitching and moaning about the lunging and squatting just comes with the territory. It's just always going to be that way. I'm never going to hop out of bed, hear the birdies chirping in the sun's warm rays and say, "I'm gonna go for a jog!"
*It is worth noting that if I should ever do that, it's a pretty good sign that I'm having a stroke so react appropriately.

our loss...

The past month has been a complete whirlwind and I have surprisingly chosen to share the story...

September 25. The best day of our lives... or so we thought. Gregg was in the kitchen unwrapping our take-out lunches and I was standing in the bathroom in disbelief. I shuffled out to meet him holding the most wonderful news in the palm of my hand. I raised it up so that he could clearly read the word Pregnant. We were ecstatic, shocked, amazed, excited, thrilled, overjoyed, shaking, nervous, nauseous ... you name it. Finally, after over a year of trying, and just a few days before our infertility testing was to begin, we were pregnant! We soaked that moment in for hours and eventually days. 

After realizing we couldn't eat we wrapped up our lunches and just sat together discussing the most amazing news we'd ever had to share. Who would we tell? How and when would we tell our families? When would I call the doctor? It was the best Saturday ever. 


We played with a few ideas and finally settled on how to tell our parents. We were so excited. They had no idea that we had been trying to get pregnant, it was to be a great surprise. We decided to make up signs. We sat together at the dining room table with a bunch of markers and crayons and created our masterpieces. Mine read, "I'm Pregnant!" and Gregg's read, "It was me!" We then took a picture of the two of us smiling and holding our signs and printed two copies - one for each family -  and we decided to wait a week to tell them.

I placed one copy in a benefits enrollment booklet and told my mom that I had questions and needed help. When she leafed through the pages she found it - and she was over-the-moon. She kept asking, Is this real? My grandmother started to cry, she was overcome with happiness - I'd never seen her like that. And my father gave us congratulatory hugs and handshakes. Everyone was just thrilled. 


We placed the other copy in a little box and wrapped it up to give to his mom. He handed his dad some Necco wafers and said, "This is for you" and gave his mom the present saying, "and this is for you." Within seconds we heard the scream of joy and his mom came rushing out to hug us tight and give us her congratulations. His dad, sister, her husband and his family were all very excited and it was a really happy moment. We felt like a weight had been lifted now that we let our families in on our big secret. What a great day. 


My first appointment with the Doctor went well. I had all of my blood work done and naturally the pregnancy confirmation. I was then set up for our first ultrasound. It fell during the week of Gregg's vacation so he wouldn't have any trouble coming with me. We were unable to see the heartbeat yet because we were only six and a half weeks. I don't know why they scheduled it so early but we were excited anyway because everything looked good. She did mention that I was measuring a little small and suggested my dates might be off. Knowing that my dates were 100% correct I was a little bit confused. Unfortunately it became crystal clear to me this past week. 


Last Friday night I started spotting. I have read and heard that this is perfectly normal and a lot of women go through it during early pregnancy. Over the weekend it continued and seemed to get a little heavier. On Monday I called the Doctor and made and appointment for the same day. I was unable to see my own doctor but a midwife was available. She immediately told me that she would be "unable to help me today." I was less than thrilled about that. I wondered why they wouldn't have just set me up with an ultrasound appointment. She went on to tell me that she would order an ultrasound for the next day and she urged me to bring someone with me. She continued to tell me that miscarriage was extremely common - instead of telling me what I hoped to hear, that my bleeding was normal. 

That night I didn't sleep a wink. I had cramping and the bleeding became even more consistent. I was now convinced that I was having a miscarriage. I couldn't stop crying while trying to get ready for the appointment. I was nauseous and shaking. Gregg met me in the parking lot and when I saw him there I began to cry again. The unknown was tearing me apart. 


We were called in for the ultrasound. The tech asked me if I wanted to see the screen and I knew right then that we had lost the pregnancy. I told her no and I looked as far away as possible. She said nothing other than, "You're gonna wanna speak to someone before you leave." She left the room with plans to arrange a visit with the midwife again, since my Doctor wasn't in. I looked at Gregg and said, "That's it." Those were the only words spoken as we walked back out into the public waiting room faced with the upcoming official bad news after just having our hearts broken. We fought back our tears for about fifteen minutes as we watched pregnant women and newborn babies breezing past us. I broke down and ran to the ladies room. 


The midwife explained that it was a miscarriage and that at seven and a half weeks the pregnancy was still only five and a half weeks. It never progressed. We were completely devastated. I didn't even know what questions to ask. I hadn't prepared myself for this. We walked out to the parking lot and went our separate ways. Gregg had to drive his truck all the way back to work to get his Jeep and come home. I called my mom on my ride home because it was her birthday. We had plans to go to lunch and shopping but instead I gave her the heartbreaking news. She insisted that I go home and rest which is what I did. Gregg was there shortly after and we both immediately went to sleep. 


I put away my pregnancy magazines and books, tucked away the congratulatory cards that we'd received, crossed out my upcoming ultrasound and check-up appointments on my calendar and began to process everything slowly. I thought back on the conversations that Gregg and I had - about ideas that we had for the nursery, to-do lists and even where we would keep all of the baby food and bottles in the kitchen. We were just so excited. 


I am currently on day nine of this miscarriage. I have had hardly any sleep, some horrible -and at times agonizing- cramps and sadly, a constant reminder of our overwhelming loss. We know that everything happens for a reason and we know that this doesn't mean that we won't have a healthy pregnancy in the future - but that doesn't make it any easier. We are surrounded by loving families with lots of children, pregnant friends and birth announcements. And many of these friends had to struggle through the same unfortunate circumstance. 

Disappointment is never easy. Having elation ripped out from underneath you is much like a balloon being deflated. What was once full and healthy becomes empty and pathetic. It is hard to remember the feeling of such great joy. But we have faith that we'll have it again some day. We only hope that it doesn't take another year to achieve.