Disappointing the masses

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming for a special announcement:

The Mother of all houseguests was not in attendance.

I repeat...

The house was devoid of all things fuckwittish, momism-y or otherwise ignorant.
And it was good.

We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused.

[happy,happy, joy,joy]

That is all.

Damn.

Coming Attractions

Hey kids! Do you know what time it is?
It's time for Julie to start feeling better again! Yaaaaaay!
::applause::
And you can be assured that we are feeling just as saucy as ever!
It is no small coincidence that this metamorphosis transpires as we prepare ourselves for another visit from The Mom! For.an.entire.week.
::groan::
Stay tuned! Our next season features many of your old favorites, plus a new, added bonus!
Julie's Big List of Annoyances! From general life observations to stupid momisms, this is a series of irritating posts you're not going to want to miss!
::standing ovation::

Sponsored by the Snark Society

Mew?

Had a quick checkup today.
Lost 10 lbs.
Sounds like one helluva a diet plan, huh?
"I lost 10 pounds in TWO weeks! Ask me how! Results may vary."
No results from the karyotyping yet. Perhaps within the next week or two.
Pelvic exam was tremendous. Don't need to return until I'm knocked up again. Was told I could get bizzy as soon as I am ready.
Still spotting. Of course, today, very very extremely little. Over the weekend, well, let's just say it was a little more than that. Boobs still leaking. Yes, even an early 13 week loss can make those tits go "I'm on the job, lady! We get overtime, right?"
So, I get to wear a bra to bed.
Which is really not going to be a problem.
Seems the husband isn't really into procreation anymore. He can't go through this again.
We discussed our feelings on the subject over a heaping pile of tater-tots.
He speaks of freedom, and financial independence. He wants to see me happy, and hates to see me cry. We can be blissful without a baby, honest. In a fit of frustration (I can be rather stubborn) he said, "You just don't get it, do you?"
"And neither will you".
He'll come around.
Or I'm going to get a kitten.

Dream On

After a lengthy conversation with Nicholas the other day, {You're a big brother now, take care of things...}, it seems like he and The Maybe decided to let me know they're doing alright.
I awoke to a song, and a lovely image of cherubs flitting around in my head.
Yes, my hallucinations come complete with a soundtrack.
I heart my meds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Say goodnight, not goodbye
You will never leave my heart behind
Like the path of a star
I'll be everywhere you are

In the spark that lies beneath the coals
In the secret place inside your soul
Keep my light in your eyes
Say goodnight, not goodbye

Don't you fear when you dream
Waking up is never what it seems
Like a jewel buried deep
Like a promise meant to keep

You are everything you want to be
So just let your heart reach out to me
I'll be right by your side
Say goodnight not goodbye

You are everything you want to be
So just let your heart reach out to me
Keep my light in your eyes
Say goodnight not goodbye

~beth neilson chapman

Locus of Control

I am out of control. Uncontrollable, unconsolable.
I attended a seminar the other day on dealing with disappointments. I believe the title was something like "Empowerment, objectivity and other ways to blow smoke out your ass".
It seems that most of us are dealing with our grief all wrong. No matter what goes wrong in your life, you have the obligation to accept accountability.
Late for work? You should have left earlier. But, it was because of "x, y, z" that you could not control. Go to bed earlier, then, and try harder next time. Cancer or other horrific disease? You should have lived your life more carefully. House burned down? Well, didn't you have insurance? And, why weren't you more careful in the first place? Upset about gas prices? Budget your dollars more wisely to adjust to the increased cost. Failed an exam? Put more effort in studying more effectively. But, it was because of "x, y, z" that you could not control. Maybe if you had made this a higher priority, then you would have been better prepared. Got pneumonia? You should have been vaccinated. Bit by a dog? Avoid pets and strays. Stubbed your toe? Have a hangnail? Quit whining, dammit, and take better care of yourself! Everything has an answer, and rather than trying to blame it on an outside entity (dumb luck), you must find the answer within your own realm of control (blame yourself).
I am finding it more and more difficult to be sociable. I have become a bitter, hateful bitch. No matter what someone says, I have a comeback that just slaps together a wall of hatred around me. From general courtesy to mindless platitudes, I am an ungrateful sadist. I don't care. I've had it. Yet, I don't like this side of myself. Either it is some twisted sort of defense mechanism, or I have surely lost the rest of my marbles. Which, may actually be a good thing, because if I had some marbles left over, I would be throwing them at the people who piss me off.
Dear God, Thank you. For everything You offer and allow us to experience every beautiful day You grant us on this earth. For the distraught mother of the tiny sick baby who can't eat and breathe at the same time, I thank You. For her congenital heart disease, You have blessed us all. For the widower grieving over his dear wife of 65 years, I thank You. By sparing the passenger You have allowed us to appreciate the driver's sacrifice. For the new bride crying in room 813, I thank You. Nothing catalyzes hopes and dreams for the future like a 26 year old with brain and spinal cord injuries. For the 42 year old meth addict featured in the newspaper's human interest story, I thank You. Her having a stroke and living in a nursing home compels me to appreciate her 6 kids who find it hard to visit her every week. For my son's friend and teammate, D., I thank you. Were it not for the repeat fracture of his hip, none would surely appreciate the scholarship he is now forced to give up in lieu of rehab. For this, we are thankful to You, oh Lord, for all your glory and goodness. Amen.

Sniper

I lost it today. My mind, my composure, my privacy.
I had a rough morning. A song on my mix CD set me off, and I couldn't get out of the car. I was a blubbering fool. When I was finally able to function, I wandered into the lecture hall, and I was not a pretty sight. A colleague asked if I was okay, and I mumbled something or other on the way to a vacant row of seats. Out of nowhere I was blindsided. Tim, whose lovely wife had just last week given birth to their "surprise, accidental, bad-timing, unplanned, wish-it-was-a-girl" baby, gave me a hearty pat on the shoulder, and said, "Here, this should cheer you up!" as he handed me two photos of their newborn son.
I barely had time to scream as I ran from the room.
No shit, I was making some sort of sick gurgling choked mutant squealing kind of noise as I literally bolted towards the door. I stood at the slow-ass fucking elevator trying to catch my breath, when all that was coming out was terrifying sobs and panting and nonsensical noise that drew profs from other classes into the hall to see what beast was being slaughtered.
As I stood outside in the bitter cold wind, mentally trying to claw my way back up to the earth's crust (even though it was warm down there, those flames kinda tingle), I thought of every horrible thing I could possibly do to that motherfucking sonofabitch to pay him back for inflicting his infant on me TODAY of all days. I wanted to go in there with MY photoalbum and make him look at MY son that was stillborn in February, and my OTHER son who just died on Friday. How do you like THAT, asshole? Huh? Nice pictures, aren't they? Bet my babies aren't as much trouble as yours is, with you having to get up in the middle of the night and FEED it and CHANGE it and CUDDLE it. I hope you die, you self-indulged cocksucker with all your whiney-ass complaining "I wanted a girl", "I didn't want a baby right now, we're so busy", "I wish he would have waited another week to come, it was hard to study for this last exam and go to the hospital, too".
But, I managed to calm down before any carnage occurred.
When I was able to return upstairs, I discreetly motioned for him to meet me in the hall. I apologized for whatever I may have said or done inappropriately. I told him about Nicholas, and I told him about The Maybe. He said he had no idea, and he was sorry. He gave me a politically correct hug, and told me to "hang in there".
I want to dissect him and wrap him in his own entrails.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've had comments and questions about the possibility of Incompetent Cervix. This is something my doctor brought up with me before I even had a chance to ask. As a matter of fact, he stopped me short by explaining how it was too soon for IC to be an issue. The fetus was too small to put enough pressure on my cervix, and besides, my history proves that my cervix is actually quite competent. Stubborn, perhaps.
So here's the thing. My uterus is slightly offended by the assumption that compliance and cooperation are considered an issue. My vagina could really care less, and doesn't want to be part of the argument. So maybe it is not a question of competence. My cervix is simply passive-aggressive. We will try to avoid pissing it off in the future.
But, in all seriousness, once we find out if something was wrong with the baby, the placenta, or whatever, there will be an investigation into how my body handled the situation. There were a few issues at play, and we need answers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Goran Visnjic is HOT. There. I said it. I lust for Luka. Reminds me of Dr. Wonderful, except MY doc's eyes are a wicked shade of blue. So there. I need a drink.

Comfortably Numb

The baby was sent to Mayo for karyotyping. No pathology was done at the hospital.
Dr. Wonderful was both upset and perplexed by the turn of events. In shock, I believe were his words. He was very surprised this baby didn't make it. He was very concerned for me/my state of mind, and showed genuine caring and sadness.
On the physical side of things, I am still passing bits of tissue (retained placental fragments), and due to my low-grade fever and tenderness during the exam, he sent me for labs* to rule out infection.
He had me detail the events repeatedly, from start to finish and back again. He was most pleased with the pictures, which he asked to keep. He kept writing frantically while asking me questions.
He told me this was very unusual. I told him I was an anomaly. He said, an enigma. An enigma wrapped up in a riddle, I replied. We laughed. Good times.
So, either it is chromosomal problems, or "me". We should get the results back in about a month. I see him again in two weeks (not sure why).
My Xanax and I wish you a good night, and a pleasant tomorrow.
---------------
*Edited to add: Dr. Wonderful just called me. Himself. After 7pm. Just to tell me my labs were normal. I love that man.

Like a Buick

A big old rusty piece of shit that just slams into you, stops, backs over your broken body, and parks on top of your chest.
It hit me tonight.
I have spent the past 3 hours just bawling my stupid eyes out and sobbing into my pillow, my hands, a towel, my desk, the dog...
I guess denial comes in many forms. I, of course, could not deny that I've lost the baby, the baby is dead; instead, I stunned my psyche but for a little while by asserting that it didn't bother me all that much.
It does, though. It bothers me very much.
I stood in Nick's room, thinking about yet another occupant that was denied it's use. I looked at all the new baby stuff, wondering what in the hell we should do with all of it. Save it for "the next try"? Give it all away? Let it continue gathering dust, and keep it as a reminder of the complete and utter waste of fucking time this year has become?
I wish I had held my baby longer. Both of them. But tonight's focus is on the Maybe, not Nick (for once), and how I wish I would have allowed myself to care.
I lay in bed, stroking my belly, remembering how I tried to feel the lump. Was that movement I thought I had felt the other day? I remember mentally planning for daycare, summer vacation, kindergarten. How this one was going to be different. This one would make it, and erase all my pain. I wish I'd have allowed it to creep into my heart, and seem real.
I remember how I felt after Nicholas died. I remember my plan. I wish I'd had kept that bottle of insulin. I threw it away when I got pregnant with this Maybe. If I'd have kept it, I'd have two vials now, that would surely do the trick.
I wish I had spoken to it. I wish I had unwrapped it one last time in the ER, and looked at it longer, touched it, told it goodbye. Thanked it, for a few weeks of happiness.
I wish god/the universe/fate/whatever didn't feel the overwhelmingly intense need to fuck with me. What is the point to this all, exactly? After trying for so many long, torturous years, I finally got pregnant. God said, here you go, you've earned it. Whoops! Changed my mind! HAHA! That was fun.
Then, we got another chance. We didn't lose that one. I carried Nick for 35 glorious weeks. He was our boy. Our other son. Our family was complete. Our world revolved around him. God said, OK, times up. How does it feel to want? Haha, Suckers!
With the Maybe, things seemed fine. I mean, really, how unlucky can one family be? Like a donkey chasing a carrot on a stick, I was foolish enough to think I was being cut a break, this time. My, how stupid one can be when you allow hope into your life.
Gerry has a saying... "Wish in one hand and shit in the other - see which one fills up faster".

Signed, sealed, delivered

Ahh... my sweet, ignorant woman, whilst thou never learn?
Fate, she doesn't like temptation. She laughs at your cockiness. She is saddened by your impudence. She mocks your courage.
She won this game. Your trump card is invalid. Tough shit.
The Maybe is gone.
I'm not sure if I am numb, cold, unfeeling, or just spent. I'm sure it will hit me later, but for now, I'm okay.
For the past few days I have felt a little unusual. Hindsight is 20/20, but at the time, I figured I was just tired and stressed. Besides general malaise, I was having odd, distant, discomfort in my lower back. Last night at bedtime, I spotted bright red blood. I thought, maybe, hopefully, it was a hemorrhoid. Knowing that at this stage, nothing could be done anyway, I went to bed. At 2am I woke to some pelvic pain. It wasn't period cramping, just a sort of aching that was disturbing. Still bleeding. This continued until I could no longer get comfortable. About 3am I felt this sharp, tearing pain in my lower left abdomen/pelvic region that was sustained for a good half-hour. If I had to describe it, I would say it felt like my placenta separating. I had to pee. I felt heaviness and pressure, and knew immediately. I held my hand under there and caught it. It was larger than I had imagined. More than a handful.
It was completely intact.
Placenta, fetus, bag of waters.
If you've never seen or held a 13 week fetus completely floating in amniotic fluid, with the placenta and villi all attached - that is wonderful. I hope you never have to. I don't recommend it.
On the other hand, I have to admit it was really an awesome sight to behold. As sad as the situation is, I have never seen a specimen so perfect, outside of a textbook. I took pictures. I tried to make Gerry look at it, but he just gave it a cursory glance and told me I was weird.
So, we did the ER routine and they sent my baby off to pathology. I go see Dr. Wonderful on Monday.
I wonder if it was a boy or a girl. I wonder if I really want to know. Will it hit me harder, then, to qualify it as a person, not just a fetus? Unlike the 6wk loss two years ago, this one was not just a blob. This one had arms and legs and fingers and toes and a big head and ribs and eyes and what looked like a teeny weeny winkie. Would I name it, and remember him/her like I do Nicholas? Doubtful. But I can't just ignore it, either. How far, how deep, will this loss scar me when I finally allow it to?

Compulsion

Well, I did it. I rented the doppler. I opted for the overnight shipping. It requires a signature, and should arrive tomorrow evening. I dislike having to wait for anything. At least this is one thing I can control. I might not be able to use it successfully at this point, but, dammit, I can make it get here NOW. So there. Oh, how I love to tempt fate. Middle finger up to the universe.

News you can use....

Not really! This "news" has got to be the most worthless research I've run across in a long while.
According to a study, the longer it takes you to get pregnant, the less likely you will be to have a successful outcome.
Oh really? Gee, it never occurred to me how the physiology of infertility might affect the whole goddamn process from conception to loss/birth. Hmmmm, let's review.
Something is wrong with you.
Your girly parts just aren't working quite right.
Pregnancy is not something you can easily achieve.
Why is that?
SOMETHING IS WRONG.
If the basic ability to get pregnant is difficult, doesn't it stand to reason that maintaining that pregnancy might also be wrought with problems as well? I'm not saying that everyone will endure heartache, but, let's face it. If you drive a lemon, you're going to owe your mechanic a shitload of money.
The basic message my jaded brain gleaned from this article is thus:
The longer it takes you to learn how to do something right, the more mistakes you are going to have the opportunity to make along the way.
Well, DUH.