Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy New Year

I have never been so happy for the year to end. More tomorrow when I am sober and awake

Well woman the way the time cold I wanna be keepin' you warm
I got the right temperature to shelter you from the storm
Oh lord, gal I got the right tactics to turn you on, and girl I...
Wanna be the Papa...You can be the Mom....oh oh!

Sean Paul, Temperature

This is what I am actually listening to (I made a mix of the top 5 songs from 1982-2012. This was one of them from when I was in college- don't judge). I always sang the lyric (though knew it was wrong):

Well woman the way the time cold I wanna be keepin' you warm
I got the right temperature to placenta you from the store

Oh lord, gal I got the right mmm keeping you on, and girl I...
Wanna be the mmmm...You out the storm....oh oh!


Of course I find out the real lyrics about a papa and mama 6 years later..... of course.


Here's to a wonderful, New Year full of rainbows and sunshine.



Sunday, December 30, 2012

This is Disrespectful, or is it just me?

This is Just Disrespectful, in addition to making me want to tear someone's face off:

Kanye West announced that yet ANOTHER Kardashian is expected into the world: Kim is pregnant- presumably with his kid (Gone are the days when one assumes it is her husband's  [Yes, she is still married to Kris]. Kanye said:

"Stop the music and make some noise for my baby mama" and pointed Kim. Awwww how sweet!*

Just for the record, her sister is struggling to get pregnant with her husband. Nothing like disrespecting your girlfriend (baby mama, yuck) and your girlfriend's sister in one blow. Can he just keep it a bit classy?

Photo: Chris Polk/ Getty Images
Oh that's right, no.

*This is the Sarcasm font from now on

Friday, December 28, 2012

A Year Ago

12/26/12

One year ago, these were the last happy hours of my pregnancy. My world didn't crash down until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I wish I remember what I did that morning. I know that I didn't clean what was left a mess from Christmas morning. I think I played with my new iPad. I have evidence that I took my very last pregnancy picture. I have one clear memory of Before that day. Hub and  were laying in bed, playing with the iPad watching the YouTube video "I'm Santa and I Know It", laughing and laughing. Hub leaned over and told Baby that his parents were out of their minds. We laughed again and talked about how we were already scaring the child for life. We were so happy.

I missed the call from my OB, and called back as Hub drove out of the driveway. That's when the bad stuff started. They joy was sucked out and the terror moved in.  1:5 for T18, disaster. We knew we wouldn't carry to term a baby with such a poor prognosis, to watch a baby die in my arms was too much. 

12/27/12

One year ago, I had my last scan and my amnio. We didn't get any pictures and I regret that. Afterwards, we went to dinner and bought an iPad case. I was told to take it easy, but I just knew it wouldn't matter. I didn't drink with dinner though, there was a bit of hope left.

12/28/12

One year ago, I took it easy. Hub wouldn't let me off the couch. I cried. 

Monday, December 24, 2012

Dear Santa

It's Christmas Eve.

Last year I was dying for a few glasses of wine at the family Christmas party I hosted. This year I am trying to avoid drowning my sorrows. Last year I was looking forward to having a 7 month old at Christmas, this year I'm holding out hope that next year I'll have an infant or a belly full of baby or a home study in progress.

Last year I had just one more day left of being happy. This year.. I'm hoping to find happiness again.

This year, Santa, in the words of Elvis, I'd like you to bring my baby back to me- but barring that magic, please show me the path to a child of my own. (And so you're aware, I am gearing up for ovulation, I don't have any hope left, but you could help with that...?)



Please make these reindeer hurry
Well their time is drawing near
It sure won't seem like Christmas
Until my baby's here
Fill my sock with candy
And a bright and shiny toy
You wanna make me happy and fill my heart with joy
Then Santa, hear my plea
Santa bring my baby back to me
Elvis Presley , Santa Bring My Baby Back To Me

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Being Polite to Strangers- Pretend to be Nice

There is a lot of talk on the BLM/ IF blogs about how to deal with being childless at the holidays. People in this community are often very sensitive- they are hurting, sad and feel like they stick out at a time that is so focused on children. I think there is a lot of over sensitivity in this population too though, and that's what I want to talk about today. Not having a child when you want one is very difficult, especially when you're smack in the middle of a season made for children and families, but this is no reason to be rude.

I have seen many posts around the internet of how to deal with who people forget to mention your deceased child. Many of the suggested  responses are rude and made to embarrass the person. This seems to be the opposite of how we want to be treated, so why should we give to others what we don't want in return? Correcting a grandparent on how many grandchildren they have: "No, mom you have 7 grandkids. You keep forgetting (name of dead baby)" really rubs me the wrong way. That might be technically true, but if grandma is talking about the kids she sees, helps raise and buys Christmas gifts for, 6 is the correct number. Grandma thinks of her grandkids as the living children, as many of us do. How many BLMs write posts about how they responded to the question "How many kids do you have" without including the one who died. -- why should we be rude to grandma when she does the same?

To hear it another way, I don't consider myself a mother. I know there are others who feel that way, Mrs. Wonderful and I have had the conversation about this before -- though she is so, so close to being a mom in every sense of the word!  I find it odd when people tell me "You're still a mom", No, no I'm not. But I smile and nod, because I understand that what they are saying is who THEY view my situation, and I allow others to live out their perception. It doesn't make me feel any better to correct a person, so I don't bother.

Then there is the "When are you having kids" or (my favorite) "Why don't you have kids?" Ouch. You know what? I usually tell the person asking. "As soon as possible" and/or "We lost one at about 20 weeks this year" (soon to be last year....). I know that I have mentioned before, I really like talking about Blue Sunday. I like opening the lines of communication on baby loss, special needs and terminating for medical reasons. I know not everyone shares this. If it is too personal to answer (or you just don't feel like it) it is far less rude to give some humorous answer that closes the door than to tell them to "Mind your own business and pass the potatoes"- Gesture to a kid misbehaving and say "Lion tamer isn't in the cards yet" or something else silly. Really, if they are asking you're related (and so they care) or you hardly know each other and they are filling space.  There isn't a verbal adult person who hasn't offended someone with a simple, well-intentioned question. I personally am always one step behind the gossip mill and keep asking people how ex-significant others are. I mean well, really I do. So do they.

But can't you just pretend to be nice,
Can you at least pretend to be nice,
If you could just pretend to be nice,
Then everything in my life would be alright

Josie and the Pussycats, Pretend to be Nice

Monday, December 17, 2012

Childless

There are several types of childless people, all with their own reasons, their own memories, their own wants and desires, and, for most, their own losses:

There are those who are childless by choice. Those people who for whatever reason, choose not to walk the path to parenthood. These are the childless people I envy. If I cannot have children, I wish I could have never wanted them. They are childless, but they don't have to mourn the loss of a child either.

There are those who are childless by happenstance. They would have wanted to be parents If. If they met the right partner, If they had their career in place, If they lived in the house of their dreams. It doesn't seem like childlessness effects this type of person as it does some others. Perhaps it's because becoming parents isn't what they defined themselves by (that's the house, the job, the partner) or because they have larger issues (lack of shelter, work, or a loving, stable partner). They might mourn the loss of the material ability to have children, but may be not.

There are those who have wanted to, but never been able to conceive a child. Have never felt the elation of seeing two lines, or hearing the words "You're/We're/I'm pregnant". Even knowing the way it ended, I would love to feel that amazing joy of September 18th 2011. I know a woman who desperately wants a bio-child.. and has never even gotten this far. That is a loss in and of itself, on top of that is the loss of being a parent, if even for a few days to a fetus in utero.

There are the babylost. So many types: early miscarriage, recurrent miscarriage, TFMR, loss while carrying to term after a poor prenatal diagnosis, pPROM, unexplained late stage pregnancy loss, still birth from a delivery accident and more and more. Each a horror all to themselves but the tie that binds in never getting to see your own child alive. The loss of a child on top of the loss of the memory of one.

There are those who are childless because of infant loss: expected or unexpected, in the hospital or in those first few days home. These people had parenting so close, and then ripped away. The memory of a living, breathing little human that you created living and dying in your arms. This loss must be different than the loss I had. Having a child of your own; that baby smell, touching soft skin, seeing tiny toes. It is unimaginable to me to lose a child after these things.

Then there are those who no one wants to look at too closely. Those who not only had pregnancies, live births and babies but had children- kids with personalities, likes and dislikes, may be even friends and favorite books. Parents who lost kids... parents who lost a person they have loved and begun to raise. Those (like my wonderful grandparents) who raised a child- watched him marry and have children of his own- and then watched him die. Leaving his children behind, my grandparents mourning not only the loss of their child, but the also the sorrow of his own families.

I read a post from a woman once who was claiming she lost more because she had lost her child after X months and X days and the other had lost their child at X-1 months and X-1 days. She implied that she lost more because she lost her child when she was older (by days). I didn't like this concept, like I couldn't have loved my child as much as she loved hers because I never would "really know" mine. There is a bit of truth in there though, I will never know the loss of Blue Sunday like I would have if he had lived for days, weeks months or years in the world. That loss isn't made worse in number of days you were together, but the number of things you know you're missing out on; his beautiful face, smile, singing voice- knowing then losing all these things in your own little one must just make the loss so much more difficult.

Today, as we mourn the loss of 26 people, children and adults, we remember that each life is special, and that any life can be gone in an instant. I sadly welcome their parents into the horrible, awful club of the childless- because- as BLMs know- having other children doesn't ease the the ache of the one you lost. That the child for some of these parents wasn't 6 at death but 26 or 46- it doesn't ease the ache. Even with other kids- all these parents are now less a child. A true tragedy. A true sorrow. 

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Reflections

On a whim, I was looking at a blog of a woman I know from a debating site. She has started a blog, it was there on her siggy. I clicked on it. It turns out she has a beautiful 2.5 year old who has Down Syndrome. She sounds like an incredible mom; she is a teacher and really knows what her child needs, and is able to recognize what her child will thrive doing. I found myself very envious of her. I thought "What I wouldn't give to have her life, her child, her understanding and love"

As a usual reader would know (or a new reader who has happened to look back on the last few posts), I have been having a hard time lately. There has been some progress in the past few days (Talk to adoption planning, talk of ART) and some set backs (a pregnant princess and some suspicions about 2 of my close friends, a BLM recovering from a m/c). {These will eventually all be their own posts and I will hyperlink them}. The combination of blog reading and my precariously "okay" disposition led me to look back on my own blog.

Mistake.

Oh My God have I come a long way. The raw, awful pain I was in just bleeds out of the... iPad screen... and  into my heart and head again. It might even be worse to read it now than it was to live through. At least then I was in the haze of loss, grief and hormones. I did get to one part though, that I need to correct myself on.

In talking in a haze of pain, I was wallowing in self-righteousness. I felt that I made the right choice, and therefore people who CTT made the wrong one. There are times and situations that I do believe that you are doing a disservice to your child to CTT- but it is rare and extreme cases.  I think that most of the people in this community- baby lost or special needs parenting- are good, loving parents and that whatever the decision we made, we made them out of love for our children. I know that there are parents on both sides of the issue that wish they made a different choice. I know that there are people who wanted to make one choice but made the other due to spousal, familial or religious pressure. My heart goes out to these people. I know there are people in our community, as in all communities, who suck as people and made a decision out of selfishness and convenience or who abuse their children because they have special needs. In the end of day- people are people and we are all doing what we can. I think a lot of that post was that I was in so much pain. I don't want to hurt anyone with the words that I wrote- or the mostly really awful ones I copied and pasted.

I know that there are misconceptions on both sides of the issue- on this blog I try and correct the assumptions that people about those who chose to abort after a poor prenatal diagnosis. I read special needs blogs to correct my own assumptions on those who carry to term.  If you care enough to write it down, put it out in the world, you care about your child. In short, we all do what we can. We all love our children.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

I'm Not a Princess.. or a Duchess


My first reaction: ouch. Now I am in for several months (7, 8?) of pregnant princess news, only to be given  relief form pregnancy talk by way of royal baby news- For ever. . My second reaction: It is so early for an announcement- anything could happen. Poor Kate.
I try to hang on to reaction 2. How awful it must feel to be thrown into the spotlight when you feel awful and when you KNOW it is dangerously early in a pregnancy.  I have said I would never want to be in her position. Even if they are more in love than even hub and me (IMPOSSIBLE!) I would just have to say thanks, but no thanks. She can't hold a job or be seen with a hair out of place and she is viewed as a Royal Uterus to many.
Of course there is another part of my reaction- which is ever-present. Jealously Intense, raging jealously. HG? fine. Intense media scrutiny? Bring it on.  Terribly early announcement? I'll make announcement cards. I'd take it all to have a baby hanging out in my ute right now. Anything. 

I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairytale
I'm not the you'll sweep off her feet
Lead her up a stairwell
This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town 
I was a dreamer before you and you let me down
Taylor Swift, White Horse

P.S. This:
http://surisburnbook.tumblr.com/post/37117477697/i-dont-want-to-talk-about-it-i-just-want-to-cry