Parenting after Infertility

One would think that parenting after infertility would be the easy part.  I mean really, after days, months, years of trying, of dealing with failure after failure, parenting should be the easy part.  After temping, taking ovulation enhancing drugs, sticking myself with a needle for daily, no make that twice daily, injections just to BECOME a parent.  Parenting should be the easy part.

As it turns out, that’s not the case.

First, all that I’ve gone through, all the emotions, all the let downs.  The day that I found out I was pregnant was a joyous one.  For a minute, or maybe two.  Then the fear set in.  I was only about 5 weeks along.  I had to make it to week 13 for the chances of a miscarriage to drop drastically.  That means harboring this precious secret while every day I  live in fear.  Every time I  pee I checked the toilet paper for red.  Then it happened, spotting.  A phone call to the doctor in tears.  A quick visit to the doctor and affirmation that everything was OK.  The heartbeat was strong. 

As the weeks pass I gain a baby bump.  I deal with the heartburn, extreme fatigue, sore breasts, morning sickness, hunger, cold sores, bloody nose, Charlie horses, bloody gums, headaches.  And the fear remains.  I don’t want to complain about the symptoms, after all, I’ve worked so hard to get here and so many couples out there are still struggling to get to where I am today.  So I have to suffer in silence for fear of alienating those friends that I have made.  I start to show, but still I cannot tell anyone.  Only a select few people know outside of K and I.  My best friend, one other close friend who gave me an OB referral and my mom.  Another close friend is pregnant and shares her happy updates.  I feel my heart sink with every update, living with the what if that infertility drives into your mind.  What if this baby doesn’t stick.  So I don’t even tell this friend that I am pregnant.

Week 13 comes and goes.  I can’t hide it anymore.  Whispers are in the hallways.  People have it figured out.  Week 14 and I can’t continue to hover over this secret, but telling it is going to jinx it.  Telling everyone will make the worst happen.  That’s what infertility has taught me, right?  But I have to.  Hiding it now is tearing me apart.  So I do.  I tell my employees, the rest of my closest friends and family, but that’s it.  Then I hold my breath for days on end, fearing what will happen.  Then I spot again.  End up at the ER, scared to death.  I’m pushing 20 weeks, I can’t possibly lose the baby now.  This is happening because I shared in my good news.  But all turns out OK.  Some of the symptoms of carrying another being have dissipated.  Morning sickness is reduced, although still shows up sometimes.  Heartburn sucks, but again, I don’t complain. 

As the weeks go by I start to get more comfortable in being pregnant.  Sometime in the middle of my second trimester I finally buy the first baby item.  It’s a monkey head with a little blanket.  I sit at the store fingering the edges, loving on the softness.  I give in and purchase it.  Then a pair of socks.  Then as the third trimester nears we finally allow ourselves to buy the crib, the glider.  The room starts to get set up for the baby, although it doesn’t get finished until the third trimester.

Then I am slammed with more fear as I call the doctor in my 31^st week of pregnancy with some symptoms that I cannot fully explain.  They have me come in for a stress test to find out I’m having contractions.  Nothing big, but they’re there.  So onto bed rest, for 5 ½ weeks.  By this time my whole body aches as I continue to gain weight, but am not allowed to get up and move to help relieve the pain and pressure.  I’m only 5 feet tall, so the baby is sitting on my bladder and pushing into my ribs at the same time.  I can’t breathe.  But still I am afraid to complain. 

My due date comes and goes.  I don’t want to be induced, and I know the doc is watching me close.  But what if something goes wrong with the labor?  What if my baby is born still?  These fears are so real that I can taste them.  I have now felt this baby move for months, I have fallen in love, as has K.  But what if. 

I go into labor.  For the one time during my quest to parenthood I am able to allow my body to do what it was meant to do.  The fear is there, but hidden in the back of my mind for now.  Finally.  Labor is long and difficult (29 hours).  They have to break my water and break scar tissue.  I am on oxygen.  We deal with the baby’s heart rate dipping.  We have internal monitoring and they mention possible c-section.  I am so afraid to let it go longer, but want to do this the old fashioned way.  Finally, she is ready to come meet us.  A vacuum is used, but no big deal.  It’s a girl.  She’s beautiful as they lay her on my chest in all her red faced screaming glory.  She is ours.  She is love.  SHE is the reason that we went through the treatments, the medications, the injections, the pain, the fear, the marriage almost lost.  She is amazing.

She is running a fever and very jaundiced.  She ends up in NICU for 2 days.  I am so afraid, but thankful that her issues are minor.  She is released less than 24 hours after I am.  We never even left the hospital, she goes home with us.   

Now it should be easy, right?

We struggle with breastfeeding.  It’s not easy, but I was warned, I thought I was prepared for this. 

Now we are at home, with a newborn.  We want to do everything right.  She wants to nurse, but falls asleep at the breast.  After 1 day we call the pediatrician in tears – she hasn’t had a wet diaper.  They want to see her.  They are very pro breastfeeding, but he tells me we HAVE to give her a couple of ounces of pumped breastmilk in a bottle.  We have to KNOW that she is getting some.  She drinks it that night.  Next day still not enough diapers.  They check her bilirubin levels again and tell us to keep it up.

Now we’re exhausted, and our little miracle screams.  All day.  All night.  She won’t sleep, which means I don’t sleep.  She wants to nurse, All.  Day.  Long.  But it hurts to nurse, because she doesn’t have a good latch.  So I almost give up.  K says it’s OK to give up.  But I WON’T.  I refuse.  I want her to have this, I want to have this.  So we continue on.  We use an SNS, we use a nipple shield.  I pump daily to make sure she’s getting enough.

After weeks I feel like I’m going to break down.  But I can’t complain, because there are others behind me that are still trying to do this, and they DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT.  They don’t want to hear how TOUGH it is being a parent.  They’ve made the same promises I did when dealing with treatment.  They just KNOW that it won’t be this hard on them, so why is this hard for me?  I can hear their voices in my head asking me this.

By the time she is a month old, I feel broken.  Maybe this was why I wasn’t meant to be a mother.  I can’t handle it.  I think, and people tell me, that crying is normal.  But I know it must be something else.  A baby screaming all day and not sleeping at all is not normal.  But I can’t hardly think straight because I’m so tired.  I fear going back to work in a few weeks.  How will I ever make it?

But still, I can’t complain.  Because I’m infertile.  Because I’ve PROMISED that I won’t complain.  I’ve BEGGED to have this.  I’ve PRAYED to be blessed with this child.  So I can’t complain.  There are others who are still out there, trying for their miracle.  There are others that would sneer at me for complaining about this wonderful life I now have.  They are there, in the background, just waiting for the moment that I mess up and break down.

At 4 weeks old our little girl is diagnosed with Reflux.  At 5 weeks old she starts medication.  By 6 weeks she is a whole new baby.  I am finally able to mostly wean from the nipple shield.  She even starts taking a bottle.  From K only, not me.  By the time I go back to work, things have settled down some.

She never did become a good sleeper.  At 4 1/2 she's finally getting better.  There have been days, weeks, where I thought I would lose my mind due to lack of sleep.  I took days off of work and took her to daycare, just so that I could go home and sleep.  I started this blog sometime around her 5^th month.  While some of my followers were IF followers, some of them were not.  Some were and have come out on the other side.  I allowed myself to open up on this blog more so than anywhere else.  I allowed myself that chance to complain as non infertile mothers are allowed when they struggle with parenthood. 

Parenting after Infertility provides it’s own unique set of circumstances.  Fertile mothers are allowed to complain through all these trials and tribulations.  They are allowed to have moments where they dislike being pregnant, or where they have to put their baby down and go into another room.  Infertile parents are put on a pedastol.  We asked for this, so we have to take it in stride, with no complaints.  We have to accept that we begged for this, so complaining puts a stigma on your head.  It shouldn’t be like this. 

Parenting is HARD.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  There are so many beautiful moments, but there are difficult, heart breaking moments as well.

2 children born now, after the throws of infertility.  When I first wrote this she was not even 2 yet.  Now we have a son who will be 2 very soon.  He too made for difficulties, but nothing compared to her - nothing compared to even how she still is.  He had reflux that was more difficult to treat, we spent hours bouncing on the exercise ball to calm his nerves and reflux.  But he was not soothed by nursing to the extent that she was.  Which was the one thing that by his birth I knew how to do well.

Parenting after infertility should not be the journey that it is.  Most parents feel this isolation that I speak of, this thought that everything should be perfect.

Please know, it's not, and it's not supposed to be.  I know we asked for this, we begged for this, we cleared out our savings and our sanity for this.  That doesn't mean it's going to be easy.  That doesn't mean that we'll love every Godforsaken moment of it.  Because there's a reality in there that we aren't recognizing, that is as true for us infertiles as it is for the rest of the world.

That reality my fellows, is that parenting is HARD.

But I promise, it's the most rewarding thing that you'll ever do.

For once - it will meet that expectation.

Take THAT infertility!

***I wrote this post 2 weeks ago, but had other posts scheduled so decided to wait to post this one***

After K and I had been trying to get pregnant for over a year, we finally decided to talk to my Ob/Gyn about testing.  She tested us and while I had slightly low progesterone, I was otherwise fine.  Which was interesting to me as my cycles were insanely irregular and she had to induce it a couple of times in that first year or so we were trying.  K on the other hand was not so good.  In fact, his issues were pretty severe, and not anything that we could fix with environmental changes, vitamins or even surgery.  There was No. Way. to make his numbers better.

 

We went to see a urologist that specialized in male infertility, then we self-referred to an RE.  Out of all 3 docs they all gave us the same basic news… that it was unlikely we’d ever get pregnant on our own.  The urologist basically told us to move on to adoption.  That first RE said he could get us pregnant through IVF, but that if we continued to try on our own our chances were abysmal.  The stats that he gave us were that if I ovulated every single month, and we managed to have sex at the right time every single month, for 10 years, we had a 1% chance of managing to get pregnant in that time frame.

 

Yes, I remember those words like I heard them yesterday.

 

That stat was very frightening at that time.  It was the culmination of almost 2 years of trying at that point, and the beginning of the horrifying journey of infertility treatments.  Our hearts were broken, and we thought the best way to move on was to jump into the treatments. 

 

That fateful first meeting with that RE where we were given that stat was over 5 years ago.  We had no idea what lay ahead of us, or what we would go through to get where we are today.  We still had a lot of hope that we would be parents, it was before we became shattered shells of the individuals that we were in the beginning.  We didn’t know that through all of the hell that we were about to go through we would come out the other side with our marriage intact and two beautiful children.  We didn’t know that our faith would be squashed and then restored.  We just didn’t know.

 

Yesterday I started my period.  And for the first time in over 7 years I’m annoyed that she is here.  I’m not even sure that’s the right way to put it, because every month for that time frame I would wish she wouldn’t come, but then end up hoping she’d show so that we could move on with the next cycle. 

 

But this time is different.  I know that my child bearing years are over.  That’s bittersweet to me, as I love pregnancy and babies and everything that goes along with it.  But we never wanted more than 2 children, and I don’t think that has changed for either of us.  I feel complete, fulfilled with my babies.  I look at them and feel happy, ecstatic, satisfied, amazed, but most of all grateful.  I know that never again will I deal with the shots, the heartache, the hope mixed with fear.  I know that I got those things that I most wanted in life, and every day they remind me of the innocence that I once had and lost. 

 

K and I agreed that we would tempt fate.  We agreed that hormonal birth control doesn’t work for me (I become crazy), I’m not excited at the idea of an IUD or anything like it, and we both hate condoms. 

 

Suddenly, that 1% stat that made us cry all those years ago, that 1% stat that we hated with a depth unknown to most people, that 1% stat that almost killed us, has suddenly become an OK thing.  It’s suddenly become the thing that leaves us comfortable in our decision to not use birth control, but leaves us with little worry that anything would come of it.  That horrible horrible stat is suddenly something we’re OK with, in a strange sense almost thankful for.

 

Because we recognize, that if that 1% stat were to come true, if it were to happen, then it would truly be our miracle that we were meant to have, that God always intended for us.  If one of those few little guys was ever able to make it to his final destination and meet his mate in my egg, then we know that would be one heckuva strong baby that was MEANT for this world.  (and yes, in some ways I hope that happens, and I think that's because of infertility ~ I'd love to get the one thing I was told I couldn't)

 

So take that INFERTILITY.  I still hate you and what you did for us (and continue to do for others), but now I’ve accepted you in a way that I never thought would be possible.  And as I move on with my life and leave those dark clouds of Infertility behind me I put my face up to the sun and soak in the warmth with my husband by my side and my CHILDREN in my arms.

Another Miracle

My dear friend H just shared with me that while it was not yet planned, they found out they are expecting again.  Their daughter just turned 1 a week or so ago, and their angel baby boy is almost 2 1/2.  While she never struggled with infertility, the death of her son at 31 days of age puts her, in my mind, in a much different situation than those that otherwise have an easy time getting pregnant, as she does.

The day she texted to tell me, I just KNEW that's why she was texting.  I'm not sure how, but it was that intuition.  I am so excited for her and she continues to try to live her life to the fullest, while dealing with a tragedy that is unimaginable to me.  The strength she has amazes me, the way her faith in God has remained without fail helps center me.  

H is an amazing woman, and she deserves all the good this world has to offer.  Congratulations to her and her family, and to that handsome little boy giggling down at them from heaven.  Knowing his parents - this was his trick on them :-)  (in a good way of course!!!)

6 months!

I can't believe it!  I'm 6 months, and I'm officially a little over a week past viability, at 25 weeks 3 days.  It's amazing, and I love it!!  I'm finally gaining a little weight, and I'm officially up 14 pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight, which is up 4 pounds since my last OB appointment a little over 2 weeks ago.  I finally have gotten past the stress related weight issues I think!!!

Work is still insane, still very stressful, and I'm still trying to work on hiring.  I've interviewed some good candidates, but I don't want to hire until I've interviewed everyone I'm interested in, and HR is taking their sweet old time.

K and I have had a couple of counseling appointments now, and everything is going good.  The counselor thinks that we are heading down the right path and we are working very hard on the open lines of communication.  I really appreciate everyone's sweet words on my last post, it means a lot to me.  We are going to work through this and come out stronger on the other side.  It won't be easy, but we will make it.

K20 is moving like crazy, way more than Bug ever moved around.  I've got insane heartburn and am ALWAYS exhausted.  I'm more uncomfortable at this point then I was with Bug, I just feel like this baby is constantly pushing out all sides of my tummy.  I think I'm having some braxton hicks contractions too.  Otherwise I'm feeling great though!

Bug is doing awesome.  We've had the second early intervention appointment, and they said that she is doing 3 year old things on all her other skills, but they can already say she'll qualify for help on the speech (has to be less than 25%, but I don't know her stats just yet).  We will have another appointment with them on October 15, and then we'll start once a month appointments with them.  We'll have to start weekly speech therapy as well, and unfortunately I do not think it will be covered by insurance.  I don't know that for a fact yet, it all depends on how it would be coded, but from my years in the industry I suspect that it will be coded in a way that translates to learning disability (not that she has one; it's all about coding here), and that is something that isn't covered in Ohio (other states I know mandate some level of coverage).  The biggest bummer about that is that we are struggling financially right now, and K is about to start losing hours as the weather gets worse out and he has less students able to fly, which means less money.  Then when I'm on maternity leave I'll only get 2/3 of my pay.  But that doesn't matter - we will do whatever we have to for Buggie, and to get her the help she needs!!!

I love that little girl more than anything in the world.  She can be tough some days and leave me in tears, but that's OK.  She's such a sweet, good natured little girl.  I know her tantrums are from the speech issues, and we'll work through those.  Otherwise she loves to giggle and roll around wrestling with daddy (not so much mommy these days, the tummy is getting in the way).  She's been such a mama's girl lately, and it's SO sweet!  Tonight when I was putting her to bed, after our whole routine I asked her if she was ready to go night night.  She shook her head yes, but then when I went to put her into the crib (we are working on getting her more comfortable with her BIG GIRL BED) so we do our singing and cuddling there right now, but haven't fully done the transition, yikes, she didn't want to go.  So we sat on the glider and cuddled for a bit longer.  It was so precious, and I held onto it so tight, knowing it won't last forever.  Then I put her in the crib and she went to sleep.  Oh man do I love that little girl.

So yes, we bought her a big girl bed.  It's crowding her room along with the crib right now, but we're hoping a slow transition will make it easier.  I figure right now we are looking at 6 months before we'll need the crib, between finishing out the pregnancy and K20's time in the bassinet.  So if we can get her transitioned within the next 3 months, then we have 3 more months of her getting really used to it and over the crib so that she won't feel as if the new baby is stealing it.

I can't believe she's 2, we're working on a big girl bed, and I am 6 months pregnant with our second miracle.  We may be going through some rough personal times right now, but I really do have an amazing life.  That's how I know we will work things out because this life, this family, this EVERYTHING is worth it.

I had to change my underwear....

Oh how I love the fun parts of pregnancy.

You know, like sneezing, or coughing before you even realize you have to pee.  Oh yeah.  That part.

My allergies have been killing me.  It doesn't help that while I remember every day to take my prenatal vitamin and DHA supplement, for some reason I can't seem to remember to take my zyrtec.  I have no idea why.  So I forget the pill.  And within a day, I sneeze.  A lot.

I wear a liner most days, and usually I can cross my legs and make it OK.  But the other day?

No way.  I sneezed, and sneezed, and sneezed.  I think it was like 7 in a row.

Oh yeah, I had to change my underwear.

Disappeared?

I'm still here!!

I have had stuff to say, but by the time I get bug to bed at night I'm SO VERY TIRED.  I water the plants, take my shower, watch 20 mins of TV and go to bed.  Yep, that's my life these days.

First I wanted to thank everyone for their comments on my terrible two's post.  I did call EI, and we are in the process of setting up the home visit.  Bug seems more interested in learning the names of things, so I'm hoping that's a good sign.  She seems to want to talk more, just can't quite figure out how.  So we are also getting her ears checked just to make sure that there's no fluid in them.

We had her 24 month check up on Thursday.  She is now 32 inches and 26.1 pounds.  She's smack in the middle of the percentiles.  Not that I care much about them, but this kiddo still seems tiny while seeming huge at the same time.  Crazy, I know.

She turned 2 (OMG, she's 2?!!!) on Wednesday, the 25th.  I took the day off and her GodMother flew in for the day.  Unfortunately K wasn't able to get out of work, so we actually opened up her presents on Thursday, when he was home.  It was very nice.  But on Wednesday we went to the park and played for as long as my arms could take it on the slide.  She swung some too, but she LOVES slides.  We had a blast!!!  Then we had mac and cheese and corn for dinner (her favorites) and she crashed at bedtime.

Yesterday, our sweet little angel baby Holden turned 2 up in heaven.  His parents and younger sister celebrated with cake, ice cream and balloons being lifted up by the wind in the short break in clouds during the rain.  I was sorry I couldn't be there, but let them know that I was thinking of them.  They seem to be doing so well these days, but I know how hard it must still be.  Their daughter just turned 8 months old, and boy is she a cutie.

All in all things have been going good.  I've been trying my best to ward off the tantrums, sometimes successfully, but trying really hard to figure out what it is that she wants to communicate to me.  Some days are better than others.  I really think that EI may be able to help.

All else is well in our lives.  K is working too much, I'm stressed about my work (too many big projects).  But the pregnancy is going well.  I'm almost 17 weeks and most crazy symptoms have dwindled, although not gone away entirely.  I am starting to feel movement, but not too much of it.  I've not put on much weight, but have quite the baby bump.  Those people that I haven't specifically told about the pregnancy have pretty much figured it out by now, although I don't know if/when I'll announce it on Facebook.  K wants to, maybe I'll let him and I'll leave it alone.  I just know of at least 1 person on there dealing with IF, and I'm not sure if there are others.

Well, Bug is calling for attention, so off I go.  Have a great day everyone!!

The Fear Factor

I think that I have pinpointed part of the reason that this pregnancy feels so surreal.  I don't know why it took me so long to figure this out, but it's the Fear Factor.  Any woman that has dealt with pregnancy after infertility, pregnancy after loss, adoption after an adoption failed all know this feeling.  It's an overwhelming fear that some greater force has made the decision that this baby is not meant to be.

I believe in God.  Strongly.  I believe that what happens is his will.  But that doesn't take away the fear factor.  That wouldn't make a loss any easier, or another cycle after a loss any easier.

I've realized over the last few days that I spend time every day worrying.  Wondering.  Fearing.  Agonizing.  Being Scared.  Every Day.  I remember this now from the pregnancy with Buggie.  It never fully went away, but it did get easier as the weeks went on.  As I passed the 12 week mark and the threat of miscarriage reduced.  Getting the RhoGham shot and the threat of loss reduced.  Passing viability.  Making it into the 3rd trimester.  Making it through bed rest and threatened pre-term labor with the baby still safe and snug inside me. Making it to my due date, and then yes, even overdue.

So, as this realization hit me, as it really sunk in today that I've been fighting this feeling I'm making myself a promise.  This will, most likely, be my last pregnancy.  I will not waste time worrying about it.  I will trust in God, and yes, pray that he keeps us all safe, even this tiny new life growing inside of me.  I will take one day at a time, and enjoy every moment of this life being in the one place that I have a little more control over keeping it  safe.

I will live every day knowing that Today, I am Pregnant.

House Hunt and serious baby fever

So, our house hunt this weekend went really well.  We spent a LOT of time in the car, drove about 1000 miles total, totally screwed up Bug's naps, but I think we have found our house!  It is just contingent on the owner finding an apartment by November 1, that way if she doesn't we have enough time to try to find a new place.  All of the paperwork in regards to my transfer is still going through, so that kinda sucks as I feel a little like I'm in limbo.  The house we are living in now is up for rent, we are signing all the paperwork for our new place, but the work stuff is still being finalized.  Ugh.

Bug is sick, again still.  She's been getting headaches (hitting her head against things), been real tired and grumpy, and has had this absolutely, horrible, knock you over bad breath.  It's SO bad!  I mean, come on, baby's breath usually smells good!  Man, I am telling you, in the middle of the night when it's at its worst I have to turn my head away from her to get some fresh air sometimes!  So, we took her to the doctor yesterday, they did ANOTHER strep test, and it came back negative.  So, they decided to go ahead and put her on an antibiotic since she's been sick for so long now.  On a good note, tooth number 5 popped through the gum last nigh - and it's a top tooth!  Woo Hoo!  Now I just hope the other top tooth comes through, otherwise I might giggle a little at my cutie pie with 4 bottom teeth and 1 top tooth :-)

K left for his training, boo.  We are going to miss him so much.  It's going to be hard with him gone as I'm still trying to study for my GMAT, which I rescheduled (at the cost of $50 thank you) for the beginning of November.  I needed the extra time to study. 

So, I have 4 people in my life that are pregnant right now.  One is due this month, one is due November (my friend that lost her son!), one is due December, and one is due February.  I'm happy for them, but I'm really feeling the strain of wanting another.  Of course K's lay off and this move are slowing the process down.  I work hard to remind myself that we will get a chance to try again, it's just a matter of time.  The best part about it is that I can cuddle bug and it makes me feel so much better.  I just so badly want to give her a sibling.  It's been a year of unprotected sex again, but I didn't get my cycle back until about 6 months ago (or so).  I know it's not affecting me as bad though, because the sex isn't about baby making.  In fact, it's very strange, it's not like that at all.  I think it's because I've accepted that we'll never get the 'happy accident' together, and I have come to terms with that.  We are still stressing a little about IUI versus IVF, but I really have a feeling we'll go donor sperm IUI, just because we don't want that huge age gap. 

Now that I've gone over a  hodge podge of items, I have to get back to work.  Hope everyone is having a great week!

It's Hard to Believe

That on this day last year, I was 36 weeks pregnant, and on my third week of bedrest. I was going CRAZY to say the least. It was hot, I was stuck on my couch, K was only around on the weekends because he was back home during the week. I got up just to shower, go pee (which as we all know was like every 10 minutes as Bug did jumping jacks on my bladder), and eat. I wanted so badly to stay pregnant longer, but on the other hand boy was I ready to have our little one!

I ended up being on bedrest for just a little over a month. Once I hit the 37 week mark my Ob released me from bedrest, saying that if I went into labor at that point, she would let me go. Little did we know just how stubborn our little one would be... apparently, since we told her she couldn't come at 32 1/2 weeks like we were worried she was going to (hence the bedrest - threatened PTL), that she would take her time and come when she was good and cooked.

At 38 weeks we stripped my membranes. Some spotting occurred, but that was it. I was a fingertip dilated and about 40% effaced. A week passed.

Then again at 39 weeks she stripped my membranes. Now I was a whole 1/2 centimeter dilated, and about 60% effaced. Another week passed, and boy was it hot out.

Then again at my 40 week appointment, she stripped my membranes. I was still only 1/2 centimeter dilated, but was about 90% effaced. My Ob was surprised (as was my nurse) that I was still pregnant. So was I!! I was SO BIG!!! (Have I ever mentioned that I'm only 5 foot 1/2 inch?) We passed our NST with flying colors (Bug decided to dance dance dance around). The ultrasound showed a great fluid level, and they thought Bug would be about 7 pounds 4 ounces. I knew not to believe that as late term ultrasounds are notoriously wrong.

My Ob made me schedule an induction date, even though I really really really didn't want to be induced. (and had turned her down in the past when she mentioned it). We ended up scheduling it for July 26, just because it would work well for K to be in town when it happened. That would have put me at almost 41 weeks.

Luckily, I only had to wait 4 more days, and our sweet little bug came into this world at 40 weeks and 4 days :-) I will post her birth story on her birthday, as I feel that is very fitting.

I cannot believe it's been almost a year. It's gone by so quick, and I love watching all of her milestones and look forward to more, but I really miss being pregnant, and our little infant.

I love Bug more than anything in the world.

Wow!!

Some of you may remember one of my first posts back last year about a dear friend who lost her beautiful son to SIDS at a mere 1 month 1 day old.  I was heartbroken for her, and while I could never understand exactly what she is going through, I understand the loss of the dream when it comes to kids.  I never got to meet the babies I lost, and that changes things so much in regards to what you are dealing with. 

If you didn't read the post, and would like to, here it is:
http://3hearts2hold1love-emms.blogspot.com/2010/12/sids.html

Since this post I have continued to keep in sporadic contact with H.  She was fighting her demons and I always wanted to make sure she knew I was there, but never wanted to push it.  Especially knowing that I have something that she should also have.  At this point she may even read this blog as I follow hers (she's the only IRL person that even knows how to find my blog!), I don't know if she ever does.  If so I hope she realizes how much I care for her and think about her.

She had sent me a message a few weeks back and let me know that they finally got the coroners report back.  They were meeting with their ob/gyn and their pediatrician to get some answers.  At the time she wasn't ready, or able, to tell me what it said.  What she did let me know was that it was not SIDS.

I have prayed for her almost every day in some way, shape or form since this terrible tragedy 7 months ago.  7 months.  That's almost half of the lifetime that she got to spend with him, only 1 short month outside of the womb.  I imagine that everyday of these past 7 months have been difficult for her.  That going on with her life when she probably did not want to at times was taxing.  Draining. 

She finally let me know the cause of death.  I'm not sure it's my place to even say it in this blog, so I won't at this time.  Maybe later.  It brings tears to my eyes even remembering the hurt and sorrow I could read in her email.

Now onto the Wow part of this blog.  There is a good reason that I am dredging up this horrific past.  She sent me another email today.

She's pregnant!  Her perfect little Rainbow Baby is on his/her way!  Oh the joys of a Rainbow baby, I know as Bug is one.  H is due 11/26, so she's not very far along yet.  I will now add to my prayer for her to not only help her to live on with her son's memory filling her with happiness, but now also that she will have a healthy and happy 40 weeks (probably 34 or 35 more at this point), and that the first month, which I'm sure will be the hardest, will pass by without incident.  That H and her husband will be blessed with another little baby that will help to fill their hearts.  That will help to make the hole that will always remain in their hearts a little less painful.  I will pray that God has taken their first home to him simply to help watch over their baby #2. 

I will go see them as soon as this little one is born.  I will not make the same mistake the second time around.