Week 11 Optimistically optimistic with my worries in my back pocket

Week 11

3/23/2015

Last week was week 11 and the truth was, I couldn’t keep straight what week it was.  One moment I thought it was still week 10 and the next I was convinced I was half way through week 12.  I think deep inside, I’m sooooo sooooo soooo ready for the first trimester to be over, I was secretly hoping being half way through week 12 would make me just that much closer to being able to feel like we’d made it over a huge hurdle. 

Also, I had read somewhere that by week 12, the morning sickness starts to subside.  Of the countless books, websites, and apps I’ve consumed in the last few weeks, reading that tip was the best news ever.  I don’t care if after that statement, there were 10 disclaimers following it, saying morning sickness can still last longer and some women have it their entire pregnancy… reading that one glimmer of hope, was enough, to give me hope.  And I took that glimmer of hope and turned it into a Goodyear Blimp of hope, a fact statement that by Pete’s sake, I am going to be that woman who starts feeling better by week 12 or at least 13.  I’m going to.  As an old co-worker use to say… Will it and it will happen.  I’ve willed the heck out of that statement.  I will feel better. 

The reality was, week 11 didn’t feel that much different than every week before.  I still feel sick to my stomach every minute of every day and night.  This week brought a new adventure… feeling so weak and sick in the shower I had no choice but to collapse on the floor of the shower, while I tossed my cookies (or lack there of), down the shower drain.  Sorry TMI.  Isabelle just happened to be in the bathroom at the same time and came running, “Mommy, no feel good?”  It’s become one of the staples in her vocabulary.   Precious little girl, when she finds me on the couch at 5 in the morning, she comes right up to me, rubs my chest and says, “Mommy, no feel good?”  She has a natural caring instinct too. Yesterday, during one of the many couch sessions I seem to have on a daily basis, she must have thought I was cold.  She got up from what she was doing and disappeared into her room.  She returned a few minutes later with her favorite blanket.  She did her best to spread her blanket over me and said, “Mommy feel better.”  Yes, my heart melted. 

In other health news, the cold my dad and grandpa were sporting when they were here, hit me and hit me hard.  In fact, its been over a week and a half now and I’m still feeling it as strong as ever.  On Friday I called my OB’s office and asked them if I thought I should go to the doctor.  They called me back and listed off the limited medications I can take and told me if it was still bad on Monday to call them back.  The main thing I’m worried about it hurting the baby.  I’ve done my best to avoid taking any medication (other than my lovely nauseous pills- those things are a must) and I don’t want to do anything that can hurt the miracle growing inside of me.  So I sleep sitting up, I carry a box of Kleenex around with me and I sound like I’m coughing up a lung.  My dad, who at this point doesn’t know, keeps telling/forcing me to take medications completely banned.  I keep making excuses and tell him I am doing okay.  Between you and me, I’m pretty sure this is sinus infection, bronchitis or something needing an antibiotics …. The pain when water hits my sinuses as I wash my face in the shower each morning, the burning in my chest from coughing, the wheezing when I breathe, the plugged ears.  Maybe I’ll call back today.

In other news,  in the past week, I’ve also had several light bulb moments.  One afternoon in talking with my sister, MaeLyn, one of the only few who know (I had to tell her because I can’t be at her wedding), I was going on and on about how terrible I feel, how emotional I am that I can be at her wedding and how I’m still struggling with the fact that this is really happening.  My sister has been very patient and completely understanding with me, I think I had hit her limit.  She said, “Angie, I want you to be over the top happy about this.  Do you realize you have a miracle happening inside you and this is something you’ve wanted for your entire life.  Now you are getting it and you sound miserable.  I don’t feel bad you can’t be at my wedding.  Of course I’m sad you can’t be there, but this news is SO much more exciting and just think, you have life inside of you.   Do you not realize just how amazing that is?”   Like getting hit with a sledge hammer across the side of my face…. She’s right.  She’s totally right.  Sadly, I think I needed her to set me straight and to reframe my perspective. 

I know it’s hard to believe I did reset, especially after I spent the first 5 paragraphs of this blog post ranting (again) about how horrible I feel.  The truth is, I did need an attitude adjustment.  I do.  While I feel horrible… I honestly use that feeling as a reassurance that everything must be okay.  If I didn’t feel sick, would that mean something is wrong?  The truth is, MaeLyn is right.  There is no greater wish that I’ve had since a very little girl, than becoming a mom.  I know already I’m a mom three times over, but there is something pretty darn amazing that this time, I get to give life.  That is something I’ve never been blessed to do.  Is this baby coming at my time… No.  Lord knows, I’ve prayed about being pregnant since I was 23 years old.  Now almost 35, my wish is finally coming true.  The saying is, “All things in HIS time.”  Does it make me feel sad to miss my sister’s wedding, yes absolutely but in a strange way, do I feel like this news is the clear sign God has been there with us from day one, that answer is yes.   I have had many many thoughts of processing why this is happening now.  While I might be completely wrong, I can’t help but think God’s plan involved us becoming parents to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle first for a reason.  I wonder if in the big master plan, Jarrett and I were put here to be their parents.  I’ve been known to question my parenting abilities, especially with our mischievous Michael who keeps me constantly searching for the next big parenting secret, but deep down, I truly feel, we were made to be their parents.  I wonder if this baby came around earlier in our marriage, if our family make up would be the same.  And that gives me 100% assurance, God’s plan is the ultimate one.  I can’t imagine my life now without the three blessings we call our children, and now I’m technically with our fourth.  As scary as 4 children sounds to me, I find reassurance in knowing God must have the faith in us to be able to handle it.  And if he has the faith, then I better too.

The other thing this week that made me re-frame this overwhelming nauseous experience, is starting to see the visible changes in my body.  This week brought a change in my stomach, that tells me things must be happening.  I still like to believe I’m hiding this news from the rest of the world, but when I’m standing in my bathroom, I can see a change.  My stomach protrudes in a way that it hasn’t before.  While I know most of it is bloat, actually probably all of it is, there is something about not being able to hold it in anymore that makes me see full well, this is really happening.  They say that at the end of week 11, beginning of week 12, the uterus moves up above the pelvic bone thus causing one’s stomach to protrude in a different way.  This is exciting.  I’m not sure how other pregnant women would describe it but to me it feels like I have overeaten at every meal I’ve been at for the last 12 weeks and there’s no chance of sucking it in.  For those who have ever overeaten know the feeling of that great bloat isn’t the best but I’m learning to get use to it.  I figure I better… right?

Finally, the other light bulb moment for me this weekend, was attending the baby shower of a friend who is having their first child.  It was a lovely baby shower and I’m so excited for my friend.  She will be a wonderful mother.  As I sat in attendance at the shower, in what seemed like surrounded by other women who were pregnant or carrying their young infants, I was reminded that, while it was a secret, I am finally, finally a part of their group.  Never before in my entire life, have I been a part of the amazing group of women who have carried life in their loins, have given the gift of life, who have suffered for hours over the porcelain thrown.  While no one at the shower knows of my secret, for the first time in my entire life, I felt accepted.  I know it’s a silly thing… it isn’t like women in the past have excluded me from their group…saying you can’t come in.. you can’t get pregnant.  But it was always something I put on myself, a limit I placed upon shoulders…. Something I always felt like was “wrong” with me because my body wouldn't work in the way a woman was made to work… to create life.  I share these words so carefully because I think they are completely irrational.  For any adoptive mother who has provided life, I feel wholly, with my entire being, that they are just as much a mother as anyone else.  But yet, when I looked at myself, I couldn't help but feel shame that something with me was wrong.  These feelings were commonly felt by me I can honestly say until the last year.  In the last year, as we packed up all of our baby stuff and passed it along to my sister, I became completely comfortable with the reality, that I would never experience pregnancy.  It was then that I felt, I finally let those crippling limits I had placed on myself go.  I feel sad to admit that’s how I viewed myself, but it is something I believe it part of the grieving process when it comes to infertility.  Finally, being pregnant for once, makes me feel for the first time in my life, my body has not rejected what my heart wishes.

And that seems to be where I keep going back to.  You’d think after being pregnant for 11.5 weeks, (now 12 weeks), I would have come to the realization that it is actually happening.  Yet, I still find myself questioning if it is all a big dream.  I haven’t been to the doctor for the past three weeks, I go to this week, and in that time, I almost feel like I’m been holding my breath.  I pray that everything with this baby is perfect and I pray for the day when I birth this child into the world and stare into his or her eyes.  While I pray for that so much, I still feel like it has to be a dream.  For so long, for so so long, having a baby was all I could think about.  I wanted nothing more than to get pregnant and it took me years to accept the fact it wasn't my story, it wasn't the life I was put here to lead.  And now I’m learned that it wasn't my story at the time…. It was in my life I was created for, but just at a different time.  And so, I’m optimistically optimistic while still carrying my worries in the back of my pocket.  A few days ago, the fear of it all being a dream became too much for me, so I decided to take yet another pregnancy test.  This is test 7.  As the test was processing, a fear came over me, what if it reads negative?  Why I can’t convince myself this is reality is so strange and yet, I’m living it so I know how it feels.  The results popped up “pregnant” and for a while I was happily living in my beautiful dream.  I wonder if other moms who suffered infertility experience the same things?  I remain optimistically optimistic with my worries in my back pocket.

Because I’ve gone on long enough, I’ll wrap up by giving the week’s highlights….

How far along are you? 11 weeks (though if I’m being honest, as I type this, I’m 12 weeks, 2 days)

How I’m feeling?  Hopeful… remember my Goodyear Blimp of hope.  I am looking at the horizon of the next trimester.

Total weight gain…  I weigh somewhere around 120 (so I think about where I started… maybe a few pounds up)

How big is baby? The size of a lime (By the way, I actually bought one at the store this week as a way for me to visual exactly what a lime on the inside of my stomach would look like.  It actually turned into a funny story… because I guess no one buys just 1 lime.  The grocery bagger-man (hows that for a technical term) forgot to put my lime in the bag so as I’m driving out of the grocery store parking lot, I see the clerk racing down the row of cars to chase me down… “Ma’am you forgot your lime!”  At least it wasn’t tampons or huge pads right?) 

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  But I did stroll down the isle of a maternity clothes at Buy Buy Baby, while buying a shower gift for my friend.  Who in the world spends $42.00 on a tank top.  Seriously I’ll buy a regular $12.00 one extra big and find a way to make it work.  Oh my gosh, what a rip off!

Best moment this week… Getting my attitude readjusted… I needed that.

Movement… Nothing yet, but I can’t wait to see the movement next week at the ultrasound. 

Food cravings… The only thing that tastes good seems to be cottage cheese… I seriously bought 5 tubs of cottage cheese at the grocery store last week.

Food aversions… EVERYTHING ELSE

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… Jimmy John’s Subs… no eating cold meat… can give the baby listeria.  Seriously there are very well attended discussion groups on the boards I follow, about women having their favorite sub sandwich delivered to their room at the hospital immediately following the birth of their child, as they had to wait 9 months to eat a cold sub.  I’m not sure if I’m there yet but I at least miss the ability to eat one.  Whom I’m kidding anyway, it would probably taste horrible at this point anyway.  Nevermind.

What I’m looking forward to… Getting good news next week at the 12 weeks appointment and to reaching the end of the first trimester. I feel like it will give me more peace that everything is going to be okay… we pray for good results on the genetic testing.

Until next week,

Angie 

Mother's to love...

I've been very fortunate in my life to have a wonderful mother and other amazing motherly women to love and look up to.  As we celebrate Mother's Day today, I wanted to take the time to thank my Mom and the other motherly figures in my life who serve as excellent role models, sources of inspiration and women who I strive to be more like every day.

My mother-in-law Sharon, aka Nana:

I've known Sharon for over half of my life and I think it would be fair to say she watched me grow from a young teenager to an adult and now a mother.  I remember when Jarrett and I first started dating how welcoming and accepting she was of me, her middle son's girlfriend.  I have so many fond memories of growing up spending time with Sharon.  From the Iowa State Wrestling tournaments, when they took me along so I could help cheer on Jarrett, to the trips to the fabric store to help pick out the next plaid pattern to appear in one of her wonderful quilts.  The first time Jarrett traveled abroad, gave Sharon and I the perfect opportunity to bond and connect even more.  We spent a lot of time together that summer, even though Jarrett was gone.  We bonded over Days of Our Lives and when she agreed to help me make a t-shirt quilt for my high school graduation, I think we both were excited to have an activity to work on together.  

She has taught me many things in the 20 plus years of spending time together.  From teaching me how to quilt, to sharing her famous seafood pasta recipe and even expert advice on how to raise boys.  I love many things about Sharon, and while I don't know if I've ever come out and told her, one of the things I love the most, is all the hard work, love and dedication she had to put in to help the man of my dreams become the partner and father he is today.  

 While I feel oh so fortunate to have her in my life, I feel even more thankful that she is in the lives of my children.  Nana is a wonderful addition to Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle's lives.  She is a constant source of support, love and guidance.

The kids light up when they see Nana or hear she's coming over.  Of the many things she has taught them, I'm thankful for her support to Jarrett and I as their parents, in reminding them the importance of obeying and honoring their mother and father.

Having Nana and Papa live close to us the past couple of months has truly been a great gift.  We've been fortunate enough to see them a couple times a week and the connections the kids have with them have grown significantly deeper.  

Nana, we love you very much and we thank you for all you've done and continue to do in sharing your love, wisdom and support.

Jarrett's grandma, Great Grandma Doris

While we don't get to see Great Grandma Dorie as often as we'd like, we have come to really cherish and look forward to the times when we get to see her.  Grandma Dorie has many wonderful qualities, and if I were to pick out two of my favorites, it would be these...

Grandma Dorie continues to show us that life is fun at any age, and age is simply a number.  Grandma Dorie lives in a small town in NE Iowa and yet she is known for her caring and fun spirit for miles and miles around.  In fact, because she is so much fun, there are several people I know who have self-selected to consider her part of their family, also calling her Aunt Dorie or Grandma Dorie. Her positivity and love of life at every age, shows me  no matter what happens, there is always something to be happy about and to give thanks for.

Grandma Doris shares of herself with us as she sends cards and mentions how she keeps us in her prayers.  The boys immediately connected with her because on our first trip back to Iowa, she showed them her "farm" and on her farm she had  many frogs.  Michael and Gabriel were in Heaven collecting frogs, putting them in a jar, finding food for them and asking a million questions about where they came from.  Grandma Dorie and the boys named one of the large bull frogs they found Freddie and returned him to the wild near Grandma's pond.  To this day, the boys still ask about Freddie and look forward to visiting with her at her house on each trip back to Iowa. 

We love you Grandma Dorie and look forward to seeing you again, hopefully soon!

Jarrett's Grandma, Great Grandma Hazel:

This past summer we said goodbye to Grandma Hazel as she went to be with her Lord.  While we were sad to say goodbye, I can't help but give thanks for being able to have the times I did with her here on Earth.

One of my first memories of Grandma Hazel is from when I was 15 years old and had gone over to Jarrett's house to visit him.  When I arrived, I learned his Grandma was staying with them as she had been in an accident in Decorah and was recovering at their house.  When I walked up the stairs to their living room, I remember seeing her in the chair resting and while I tried to be quiet, she immediately noticed I was there and focused all her attention on me.  While she has been bumped and bruised pretty badly in the accident she wanted no attention on her and instead treated me like I was the most important person to have walked into her life.  I quickly learned that was just how Grandma Hazel was.

In every moment I got to spend with her, she always put 110% into wondering how I was, or Jarrett and the kids.  One trip back to Iowa, I went by myself for a quick weekend, but wanted to make sure I stopped in to see her.  I didn't call ahead but just stopped by hoping to catch up.  When I knocked on her door and she opened it, she was surprised to see me, but welcomed me in, of course fed me a wonderful breakfast (she insisted) and we talked for hours.  I always loved visiting with her as she could carry on a conversation and make you feel so loved.

Of the many qualities Grandma Hazel taught me, her selflessness and unwavering faith were truly remarkable.   Grandma Hazel always made sure others had what they needed or wanted before herself. Whether it was in talking about food for a meal, or making someone feel comfortable in a new place.

And her faith.  Grandma Hazel faced many challenges and losses in her life, and no matter what happened, her commitment to the Lord was unwavering.  Even toward the end, when she knew her days on Earth were coming to an end, Sharon shared with us, how at peace she was to be going home to her Lord.  I pray that when my final days here on Earth are approaching, I embrace them with the same amount of faith and commitment as she did.   She was a wonderful lady to her core, was loved as much as she loved us and is deeply missed.

My Grandma, Grandma Virginia:

If there is one woman who I wish my children would have gotten to meet, it would have been my Grandma Virginia.    She was the most wonderful and loving Grandmother anyone could have asked for and I know she would have loved Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle with her whole heart.  

I was lucky enough to have gotten to spent a lot of time with her growing up.  She was and still to this day is the model of a grandmother I hope to be some day.  My grandmother was there for me in every step of my life.  She watched me as a baby, would greet me after school, making me my favorite foods and went above and beyond to spoil me in her love and devotion my entire life.

My grandma always confessed her love to me and her family openly, showing us through the special things she would make that she knew were our favorites, through her written word and by making sure she found the perfect gifts that she knew we would love.

My grandma was an excellent writer, sharing her daily thoughts and feelings through written word.  When I was in college, she would write me frequently sharing news about what she and Grandpa were doing, how the weather was, and what their dog Lucky was into next.  I come to love getting the mail because I knew more days than not, she's have dropped me a line, found a Family Circle comic strip she thought I'd like and sent her love saying she was thinking of me.  I can honestly say, her letters helped me get through college.  

Just like this picture, where she wrote in the corner, "with love Grandma Virginia"  I never felt love like the love I felt from her.

And then she learned how to write emails.  She's send me an email almost everyday and I knew how long it would take her to write me  a couple of lines, and yet she didn't care if it took her an hour, she loved getting emails and sending notes back.  When she passed away, I was afraid I'd lose the history we had recorded in those emails, so I printed out every note she sent me.  As the paper pulled through the printer, it became clear over the course of our email exchanges, she had written me a book.  To this day, I store her emails in our safe.  To me they are more precious than the money that could be taking its place.

Of the many many qualities I loved about my grandma, one of the best things about her was her ability to make everyone feel special. My grandma's favorite holiday was Christmas and that was her time when her skills at making one feel special were exceptionally demonstrated.  My grandma made Christmas special like no other.  She decorated her house beautifully, made a meal that kings would have loved and made sure every one's Christmas was complete with not one or two gifts, but several that obviously were picked out with special loving care.   I'm actually not sure how she ever did it, she must have started planning in January for the following December.

The love she showed us through the personal touches she provided, made me grow to love Christmas, not because she showed us with gifts, but because she showered us with her love.  I think in fact it is one of the reasons why Christmas is so special to me and why I want to share the love of the holiday with my children.

I've talked about this memory before but on our last Christmas we had together, my grandmother gave me a baby doll and said, "I thought you'd like this as I hope one day soon you will have a baby to share it with."  Her words spoke right to my heart and while the journey to become a mother was challenging for me, I know she would be so happy for me in getting to be a mother to Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle and now the baby growing inside of me. 

I miss my grandma Virginia every single day and there are so many times I want to call her up and talk with her as we did so many days in the past.  My grandma taught me to love in ways, I never knew one could love, and I will always be so grateful for the times we shared together.

My Grandma, Grandma Luella

While I never met my Grandma Luella, I can only imagine how amazing of a mother she was.  She gave birth to 16 children, 11 girls and 4 boys.  That feat alone, should put her in the book of super moms- NO JOKE!  Sadly my grandma Luella lost her life at a young age, leaving her husband and children behind.  And while she was only in their lives for a short amount of time, the impact and legacy she left is one for the story books.  I have heard countless stories about her baking abilities.  The stories of how she'd spend an entire day baking breads, cinnamon rolls, and apple kuchen for her large family and after spending all that time, her family would devour her creations in less than a few days.  

My mom tells stories about how her mom was a soft and squishy woman who loved to cuddle, play with and wrap her arms around her kids.  My mom didn't get to spend many years with her mom, but  the impact she made on her was life-lasting.  My mother learned her hard work ethic from her mom, as well as the trait to always put others in front of her own needs.  I wonder what it would have been like to meet my grandma Luella, but sometimes I think I see glimpses of what she must have been like... in my mother's eyes.

My Mom, Grandma Darlene

Everyone often thinks they have the best mom and I would be no exception to this rule.  I cannot think of any other woman who is as selfless, hardworking and dedicated to doing all that she can to love and support my dad and our family.

My mom taught me from an early age the value of hard work.  While some people just talk the talk and don't walk the walk, my mother does both. The hours my mom puts in on projects to help her and my dad's businesses thrive is awe-inspiring.  And not only is it the important lesson of hard work but also the lesson that commitment and dedication does not go unrewarded.

As someone who does career advising for my job, I've often thought about the many job titles my mom could put on her resume.  I fear the titles are endless, not because she changes jobs regularly, but because she manages multiple jobs like a professional juggler manages tossing balls in the air.  From Professional Mom of Four, to House Manager at her dream of owning and building a bed-n-breakfast, to CFO for my parents warehousing and trucking business, to master painter/remodel expert with their rental company business, to church secretary and the list could go on and on.  Seriously I get tired just trying to think of the many jobs she holds.

And that's not to mention what I think to be her favorite job these days... Grandma.  The connection my mom has instantly with children, especially with her grandchildren is what I can only describe as magic.  You know those people who are just able to connect with young people, who they instantly trust and love within seconds of meeting?  My mom is one of those people.

Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle LOVE my mom and consider her one of their favorite people.  No matter what the age, she is able to connect with the kids, giving them attention in a way that I think makes them feel important and cared for.  Isabelle often grabs my phone, pretends to start texting and says, "I send Grandma a message. I love Grandma!"-as if she has to clarify each time why she's pretend texting on my phone.

And the boys think Grandma is the best ever.  They love going to Iowa to stay at Grandma's house not only because Grandma has a lot of "toys" the boys can play with but because Grandma makes yummy food.  From her cinnamon rolls, to her tasty roasts, turkey and desserts (yet another talent she got from her mom), my boys, who love to eat, have never been unsatisfied with the tasty food Grandma makes for them.  Not to mention, grandma is fun!  She's the master at fun games like, "Rotten Egg" and takes the time to play.  Last Christmas when we went back to Iowa, it was the boys and Grandma first outside to start playing in the snow.

I love millions of things about my mom.  As a mother now, I stand in awe at how she did it all.  I struggle most days to feel like I'm doing a decent job raising the three wonderful kids I have, and then I think back to my childhood and wonder, "How did my mom make it all look so easy?"  

My mom is a master at doing it all, while still making sure she was the present mom, there to support us individually, standing in the bleachers at a freezing cold track meet cheering me on, or pushing me to challenge myself and take on the next goal.  I stand in awe with just how she did it and continues to do it.

As I look at our family picture below, I can't help but realize that our wonderful family wouldn't be as blessed as we are today if it wasn't for my mom.  The one who always sacrificed for herself, to give and support the rest of us.  The one who never stopped to relax, but kept pushing because she knew it would only mean better things for us.   

As a mom now, I can't tell you how much I appreciate my mom and all that she did/does for us.

It is my goal that one day my kids look back and are thankful for the mom they had.  For if they feel that way, I will then know I was successful in my role as "mom" because I had the worlds best role model for me.  I love you Mom.  Thank you for ALL you do for us.  While we will never be able to repay you for all the sacrifices you've given up, I hope you know we recognize them, are oh so thankful.  Mom- We love you more than you'll ever know. Happy Mother's Day!

To all the Mother's out there, may your day be filled with love, celebration for all you do, and that you know how much you are cherished.

Until next time,
Angie

Flashback Friday... Baby food taste testers.

Three years ago when we first started feeding Isabelle baby food, the boys were very curious about what her food tasted like.  They were so curious in fact that wanted to try her oatmeal.  

Thinking her oatmeal would taste like their brown sugar oatmeal, I warned them but they insisted on a try.

Because we hadn't finalized our adoption with her at the time, I was never able to post this video.  Yet over the years, we've watched it many times and still find it to be funny.

Here's a flash back Friday of the boys (and Dad included) trying Isabelle's formula mixed oatmeal....

Their reactions are priceless.

I wonder if this time around when the baby comes if they will be as excited to try his or her food?  I'm thinking no.

Until next time,

Angie

Week 10...I got out of bed... barely.

Week 10: Thursday, March 12, 2015

In one of the many resources I seem to be turning to,  I read something this week that made me stop in my tracks.  Literally.  It said something to the following:  Congratulations, you made it to 10 weeks.  Of all the weeks of your pregnancy, this week will be your worst for morning sickness.   Seriously.  It said that.  As I sat there on day 1 of week 10, on the tiny footstool outside my bathroom, I wanted to cry.  Actually I did.  Almost.  Seriously, thank you very much “What to expect when you are expecting…”  but seriously, couldn’t ya just have lied to me a tiny bit?  I mean come on, who in the middle of misery wants to hear that it’s going to get worse.  I mean seriously!  I finally got the courage up enough last week to wave the white flag saying I couldn’t handle the nausea/vomiting anymore, and here I am reading the next 7 days of my life are going to get worse.  Thank you.  Thank you WTEWE for showing me, yes it could get worse.

And to make matters better, it’s spring break week.  Of course not for me, no this happens to be one of the most busiest weeks of the year for me.  Working 6 out of 7 days.  Thankfully my wonderful dad and amazing grandpa volunteered to drive 1700 miles in a full van to come out and watch the kids for me.  That is the most definite highlight for me this week.  And while it is and has been wonderful having them here, I’m struggling to do my best to hid the fact that I want to throw up at the first step into the house.  Seriously, my boys have gotten away with only showering every other day (i.e. they stink) and there are so many new smells in the house, I basically have to talk myself off the urge of racing to the toilet at every breath.  And then there was this morning as I attempted to get ready for work.  In knew in the shower, I was going to happen.  I opened the shower door, threw a towel on me and raced to the toilet.  After getting sick 7 times and hoping I hadn’t woken up the rest of the house with my retching, Jarrett mumbled, “I’m sorry” while still half asleep.  I knew he knew what I was doing.  Feeling like I had been hit by a truck, I laid right on the tile floor with my towel half strewn about me, until I felt the contractions of my stomach subside.  I attempted then to get up and continue on getting ready.  I tell myself, baby steps… just put your make up on, it’s okay if you slick your hair back and don’t do it.  Just try to eat a small bowl of cereal.  Now drive to work, yes it’s okay to have the window down for fresh air while the heat is on high as you shiver with the chills.  Tell yourself, it’s almost over.  Only a few more weeks til the 2^nd trimester.  Pray again to God, I feel better in a few weeks. 

I hope Grandpa and Dad haven’t noticed the signs.  A)my house is a disaster.  B) the huge box of prenatal vitamins sitting at my best stand. C)the fact that I come home from work and lay on the couch every day.  D) I couldn’t help but take a nap yesterday after work.- I AM DRAGGING! I pretend that I’m the great pretender and no one knows.  I worry someday when I actually spill the beans, they will say, “We knew all along, we were just waiting for you to tell us.”

The other big thing going on this week is that I’m fighting/attempting to become informed/connected to all the insurance hoops I need to jump through.  I get it, I’m old and pregnant.  Can you just tell me what tests you’ll cover and what you won’t so I can tell my doctor what to order?  Do I need to call the doctor and then call you Mr. Insurance man 3, 4 even 5 times a day just to try and get this diagnostic code, and justification reason for each and every test?  Can’t you just give me a list of what you will cover for a 35 year old, infertile that miraculously became pregnant?  Don’t you just have some code for that?   Honestly, dealing with them is enough to give me nausea.  Thankfully, I think the insurance I have is half way decent (verdicts still out since so far they’ve “denied” every pregnancy claim, that’s been submitted so far.  On phone call 4 today, I figured out they were denying my claims because they thought I had another insurance.  Ah, no insurance I only have you, so will you please pay the flipping bill?   I didn’t say that exactly, although I wanted to. 

The other thing I did was sign up for this blue pregnancy something or another.  I was talking to a friend about what she did when she was pregnant (using a cover story of course) and she started telling me about the need to sign up for some pregnancy program with her insurance that saved her almost a $100.  Of course I went right back to my computer and started researching what sort of program our insurance had, if any.  So I signed up for some blue pregnancy plan where a nurse calls me to check in, and they recommend I eat healthy, exercise, don’t drink or smoke.  I listened patiently, while I wanted to tell them… listen here lady… I eat whatever I can stand to choke down that doesn’t immediately come back up.  I’ve tried your healthy food… carrots, strawberries, yogurt, broccoli, none of that wants to stay down.  At this point, chicken strips and fries is staying down, so please give me a break on my diet, I’ll try to eat better in phase 2 of this journey.  Until then, I’ll follow your guidelines about no alcohol or smoking.  After that, give me a break.

Let’s see, in other news, I’ll give you the weeks highlights….

How far along are you? 10 weeks, 5 days

How I’m feeling?  There’s definitely a pattern here.

Total weight gain…  Not sure… the way I’ve been eating, I should be gaining a ton… let’s see, so far this week Red Lobster, In & Out, Buffalo Wild Wings… not good.

How big is baby? The size of a prune (by the way I need to make them a staple in my diet)

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  But have noticed I like the pants that don’t seem to tight on my stomach.  Moving on to my “fat day” pants on a regular basis. 

Sleep…  Pretty good, thanks in part to those happy pregnancy night pills

Best moment this week… Having my Dad and Grandpa come spend time with them.  I’m so thankful for their help and the low key highlights of watching them enjoying an old John Wayne western movie.  Or watching my dad and grandpa play pretend tea time with Isabelle.  So many happy moments of having them here.

Movement… (sung to Megan Treanor’s All about the base)  It’s all about the gas, bout the gas, no tremble!  (seriously, I’ve lost my mind to actually be writing this)

Food cravings… Everything tastes yucky, while when I’m actually eating is about the only time I’m distracted from the nausea in my innerds.

Food aversions… EVERYTHING.

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… Feeling like my old self. 

What I’m looking forward to… telling people.  It’s hard to feel so crappy, to have to come up with excuses about why I don’t want to do anything other than lay on my couch and to get advice from people about what they did.  To know if I’m at all normal, or just a complete wimp who has nothing better to do than to whine. 

Until next time,

Angie

Prayers for a friend....

facing one of the most difficult days of her life.

If there is one thing the pain of infertility brings, it is a camaraderie in knowing what others who face the same challenge feel. For the past several months I have been following the journey of a friend and her husband as they journey down the road to growing a family.  Their struggle has not been easy but one that she, they continue to face with great optimism, faith and hope.   Their journey has lead them through fertility treatments, surgeries and recently onto IVF.  I've followed their progress daily as she writes eloquently in her blog about the realities of what has happened, and the raw feelings flowing from her heart.  I applaud her for so many reasons; for her continuous optimism, when I know first hand how hard it can be to find a positive in the piles of negatives.  I applaud her for her honesty, for sharing the up and down battles and explaining the process in details for others on the journey to be able to relate.  And I applaud her for having the courage and the strength to share her story openly, honestly and with raw emotions.  I struggled for so many years in silence behind the walls of my home, too afraid to open up about the pain and heartache we were facing.  And so I believe it is for that reason I am most proud of her.  Not only do I hope she finds sharing her story to be cathartic but I hope she knows how much she is helping other women, other couples going through similar challenges.

This past Saturday morning I texted her bright and early to say my thoughts and prayers were with her.  Saturday was the day they would be able to test to see if the IVF had resulted in pregnancy. While I continued on with our day, my mind drifted back to them with great frequency.  I checked her blog several times and was thrilled on early Sunday morning, when I read they had learned their IVF was successful, she was pregnant!  I felt so much happiness for them and wanted to reach through the phone to hug them as we exchanged texts of congrats followed by cheery responses.

I dreamed for them of what their journey would be like and couldn't wait to follow along with their joy online.  And then this morning I received the following text...

"We had an early miscarriage. :-("

I was in the middle of an appointment when the text came through and immediately my heart sank.  I fought back tears for her as I tried to finish talking with the student I was working with.  After I had a free moment, I texted her back and expressed my condolences.  While our journey with infertility was unpleasant and difficult, I have never experienced the heartache and pain of having a positive test, followed by the shattering news of a loss.

I have prayed several times for my friend today and that God will watch over them.  It is very difficult to understand a larger plan when what you are living is so hard.  I've talked with her tonight and find her determination, hope and faith unwavering.  It is because of this, I know she will find happiness at the end of this struggle.  God answers all prayers and I know someday my friend will make an amazing mother.

Until that day, I continue to pray for her, for them, and that their journey to a happy ending is near.

Prayers, love and hope to you, my friend.

Until next time,
Angie

A castle project

My husband has always been a fan of Castles.  In his several years of studying abroad I couldn’t tell if it was the interest of living in another country that enticed him or the fact that he could tour and see first-hand all of the beautiful castles still standing around this globe. 

When he became the father to two boys, one of which is interested in building and creating things, Jarrett mentioned the idea of someday building a castle for the boys (he included) to play with.  Jarrett and Michael over the years have brainstormed what the castle would look like, have drawn out plans on several pieces of paper and they’ve talked endlessly about what they all could play when their “dream” became a reality. 

Jarrett knowing his limited knowledge in building, called upon his dad’s expert advice and mastery building skills to help his dream become a creation.  When Papa retired late last fall, the plans on paper started to take shape in person.  For several weeks, Jarrett, Papa, Michael, Gabriel and almost all the neighbor kids would gather in our garage and work on constructing their masterpiece.  Definitely a “boys project” I took a step back and was busy occupied with other things while they began construction.  The kids thought it was the coolest thing and before long the parents of the neighbor kids were asking for progress updates.  I’ve also spotted a few other dads from the neighborhood in the garage admiring the progress.

In the weeks and months Papa, Jarrett and the boys have decided to making this castle so amazing, I’ve come to recognize the true gifts this project has brought.  When it is finished I can assure you, it is going to be the most beautiful, detailed and perfect castle in the whole Southwest, maybe even the U.S..  What I’ve come to appreciate most is the time they’ve spent together and the memories made that can’t be taken away.  I’ve seen the way Michael’s eyes light up when he hears Papa’s coming over to work on the castle with him and I’ve seen the joy Jarrett is getting out of working hand in hand with his dad on something Jarrett will enjoy just as much as the younger boys.  And I feel like I’ve gotten a glimpse into what Jarrett must have been like as a young boy.  His passion for castle’s not something he developed as an adult, but something he’s loved since he was young.  Jarrett’s parents tells me about when Jarrett was a young boy he would spend hours in his room playing quietly setting up one set of soldiers against another army and having battles back and forth.  I can tell he can’t wait to do the same thing in a few days when the castle is all complete.

The best thing about the castle has been the joy I see everyone getting.  This past weekend, Jarrett was out of town and Nana and Papa wonderful took the kids for me all day Saturday evening and the entire day on Sunday.  Now only did it give me time to rest, to catch up on my own projects but it also gave them time to work on finishing the castle.  I haven’t seen a final picture yet but from what I have seen, it is story book perfect. 

For Easter the kids got a medieval castle set that includes archery men, soldiers on horses, catapults and  other weaponry they can use on their new project.  While the castle is not yet complete, the boys have had hours of fun battling it out with each other. 

In this fast-paced life we all seem to lead, it has been fun watching the boys come together, take time to work together on their project and see first hand what they have created.  While the castle is as sturdy as ever and will probably be around for Gabriel and Michael’s grandchildren to play with, their sentimental mom, finds the most value out of the time they spent together creating it.  Someday when our boys are grown and have children of their own, I hope they reflect back on their youth and the memories they had with their dad and grandfather building this masterpiece together.  I know I say it all the time, but I feel ever so reminded of it daily, the minutes and times we have together with our children is so fleeting, the sand falls faster and faster through the hourglass as the grains become less.  The memories we have to capture in those small granulars of sand, is what we can look back on in the future.

Thank you Papa for ALL of the hours of labor, work, sweat and love you’ve put into this Castle.  It is truly a masterpiece for so many reasons.

I can’t wait to see the hours of fun, you will get to have with it.

Until next time,

Angie

Week 9... When will this end?

Truth revealed here, I’m actually writing this post on day 3 of my 10^th week, but who’s really keeping track?!  ME- actually. I am firmly aware of every single day, minute and moment of this experience thus far.   The reason why I’m so keenly aware of what week and day it is, is that I’ve been SUPER DUPER sick.  Every minute, of every single day. No such luck with just having morning sickness with this amazing pregnancy journey, nope, somehow I got the "sick all the time" experience card.  In some ways I blame myself…. I was the one who said for all those years, I’d give anything to be pregnant, I’d be super sick every single minute of every single day, if only God would help answer my prayers.

And low and behold he did.  Every single prayer, including my willingness to bear the sickness.  So here I am sipping Sprite (one of two things that taste’s absolutely tolerable (not good, just tolerable)- everything else is on the “bad tasting” list) and trying to write a recap of what happened last week.

The truth is, I honestly feel bad both physically and emotionally for how I feel about being pregnant.  So far, it is nothing like I hoped, prayed, dreamed it would be.  At risk of being too graphic and unpleasant—maybe I should give a warning to stop reading now if you don’t want to hear an emotional, over-tired, bloated and sick cranky lady go on and on.  So far pregnancy has been comprised of feeling terrible, horrible every single day, followed by brief moments (when we get an ultrasound) of excitement and awe of the miracle actually taking place inside of me. 

This past week (week 9) brought a time when I had become so worn down, so over the top sick, that I started to waive the white flag.  I texted Jarrett one afternoon, as I laid on the rock ground in our backyard (yes, I literally laid on the hard ground) to try and get some sun.  One of the 15 “useful remedies” for getting rid of nausea and vomiting in pregnancy is to “get some fresh air and sunshine”.  Earlier in the day I had gone through the entire list of other suggestions and decided might as well try the sun and fresh air.  Now you may ask yourself, why did you lie on the ground, no it didn’t say anything about that in my list.  The lying part wasn’t actually by choice, anytime I got vertical that day, my stomach would regurgitate anything left in it.  Hence the need to lie flat on the ground.  I texted Jarrett, “Can you talk in 5 minutes?  I’m feeling really sad and can’t stand feeling this sick anymore.”  I hit send and before my finger could away from the screen, he was calling me.  Being that  he is really the only one I can truly share with how I’m feeling, I broke down.  I said, “Jarrett, I had no idea it would be this hard. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t keep feeling this sick without getting worn down even more.”  He, as wonderful as he had been through this whole thing, let me vent, complain and get out my emotions, and then he said, “It’s time to call the doctor and ask for some medicine.”  I wanting to be “as tough as nails” like my other girlfriends (moms) are that have been pregnant, but I was waving the white flag.  I agreed, hung up the phone and called my doctor.

As most doctors offices (at least I think this is how most are), I left a message with the triage nurse who would call me back before the end of the day.  I then went to lay on the couch- in what has become permanently indented with my body imprint.  Less than an hour later the nurse called me back as I was literally choke-gagging down some cottage cheese for lunch.  I answered the phone with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  She said hello and asked how I was doing.  In a typical, no thought response, I muttered, “I’m okay. Thank you.” To which she completely called my bluff.  Like a mom can sense when something is wrong with her child.  Nurse Jan- a stranger on the other end of the line, had seen through my attempt and called me to bear my truth.  I, now choking back tears, said, “Actually, I’m not okay.  I’m having a really hard time.”  She went onto to listen carefully as I told her the struggles I’ve been having with trying to get any food down and how my goal of 3 liters of water a day, sometimes turns out more to be like 40 ounces total.  I said, “It takes like I’m drinking pennies in my water and I can’t stand the taste anymore.  It makes me sick.”  An obvious expert at listening to hormonal, pregnant ladies, she said, “I’m so sorry honey. We are going to get something to help you.”  I wanted to reach through the phone and bear hug her like there was no tomorrow.  She made me feel like I wasn’t the biggest failure as a pregnant mother (seriously I felt like I’m already failing the child and I haven’t even given birth to) and that it was okay I was asking for something to help feel better.  She said she’d call in a prescription and walked me through the instructions of when to take it.  I asked her if the medicine could harm the baby and she reassured me it is completely safe. 

Three hours later, as I pulled into Walgreens, I couldn’t wait to get home, until bed to take the medicine with the hopes of finding some relief.  That night when the time came, I took my two pills (which by the way are super cute- they have a picture of a pink pregnant belly on  them).  I drank an entire huge glass of water and let my head hit the pillow.  It was 7:34 p.m.  That night, despite getting up 6 times to pee, I slept the entire night, only to wake up the next morning feeling human once again.  While I didn’t feel wonderful, I felt human, and that my friends was a MAJOR improvement.  For the first time since February 8, I slept through the night and didn’t lie awake in pain, holding my stomach, from the hours of 1:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m.  A MAJOR improvement indeed. 

In other exciting news, I have a bulge.  Before you get too excited, let me clarify.  It isn’t a baby bulge.  It’s a bloated, unattractive and totally NOT cute bulge.  I understand with pregnancy one’s digestive track slows down considerably to allow the body to harvest the nutrients out of the food before the body expels it.  While great news for the growing fetus, it is crappy news (or lack thereof literally) for the host.  How do you like that, I’ve started calling myself a host.  Kind of like a leach clings onto its host to suck the blood from, the fetus inside of me is sucking out the nutrients and leaving the waste behind.  Yet another wonderful thing about pregnancy.  Is that where the glow comes from?  NOT!  Thankfully I’ve expanded my diet to include prunes- they work wonders and as long as I pretend I’m eating a squishy grape, I can get them down without throwing up.  I’ve learned to appreciate going to the bathroom more than ever. 

One more comment about that before I step off of this soap box…. This whole process is a catch 22.  See the only way from keeping myself from tossing the contents of my stomach or at least dry-retching them over and over, is by keeping it from getting empty.  This means you have to eat regularly and so far carbs seem to be about the only thing that will make it down.  Like loading a clothes washer, you can only load so many clothes before the machine starts vibrating across the floor with a beeping noise of being unbalanced.  I’m completely unbalanced and it doesn’t feel good.  I’m stepping down now.

In an effort to try and turn this crabby train around I’m going to attempt to do what other beautifully pregnant bloggers do and share highlights.  Here is my attempt….

How far along are you? 9 weeks

How I’m feeling?  Think I’ve been pretty clear on that front.

Total weight gain…  Not sure… think I’m down 2 pounds from the scale I have at home, but feel like I’m full of at least 5 pounds of bloat

How big is baby? The size of a grape.

Maternity clothes…  Nope.  I’m planning my attempt to do this wardrobe thing on the cheap---- many of my friends are done having babies, thus they’ve passed along their maternity clothes.  So I’m brainstorming thrift stores, with half off days, to shop at when the time comes.  Additionally, I’m tagging those clothes in my closet which can serve as maternity shirts too. 

Sleep…  FINALLY, with the help of those pretty little belly pills.

Best moment this week… Seeing just how happy and excited Jarrett is about this news.  He is so thrilled.  Oh and he continues to tell me I’m beautiful, although I won’t let him come closer than 100 feet to me.

Movement…  Just the gas rolling around inside

Food cravings… NONE, wouldn't eat at all if I didn't have to.

Food aversions… EVERYTHING.

Belly button in or out… In

What I miss… Feeling good and going for a run. 

What I’m looking forward to… Getting through the first trimester, being able to tell people and to (Pray to God) feeling better.

Milestones…. We have to decide about which of the many genetic tests we want to do.  I’m “advanced maternal age” for cripes sake. 

Until next time,

Angie

PS:  For any friends or family reading this, and who are suffering infertility, please accept my apologizes.  I realize whole heartedly that my honest-unpleasant feedback about the raw emotions, feelings I’m experiencing, are gut-wrenchingly painful to read as someone wanting nothing more than to be a parent.  I am sorry.  I do not intend to cause harm, pain or sadness for you.  In fact, I’m internally struggling with myself each and every day for feeling this way.   I feel sad, disappointed and overwhelmed most days for not embracing this news with 100% happiness.  The truth is, this baby was a complete surprise.  Jarrett and I thought we were finished with having children.  Our three adopted children are more blessings than we thought we deserved.  To have God grant us this pregnancy after years and years of infertility and being told I would never conceive naturally is nothing short of a miracle.  I recognize that and I’m still trying to process everything.  I write this blog to recount my honest, true emotions and so that someday I look back and remember how thankful I need to always remain.  If you can find the strength to continue to ready my posts, I hope you can ignore my negativity and instead find hope in the fact that if “NEVER” can turn into “REALITY” for us, then your dream of becoming a parent can be a reality and not just a dream too.   Please know I do not diminish, lessen or even have gotten just how painful and unpleasant the infertility journey is.  I pray for you, I know what you feel, and I beg you… Keep the faith and stay the course, the adventure on the other side of the obstacle, is worth the journey.