Happy Tears

Crying. For three and a half years I have been crying. At the shock of my first loss. The devastation of my second. The crushing hopelessness of my third. The depressing never-ending months when I forced myself to wait to try again. The bitter sorrow of my fourth loss. The year following it, in which I tried to distract myself in any way possible-but often lost the battle to sudden and intense outbursts. I cried as my confidence was snatched away as we had our fifth loss, when we had felt SO sure we had found our cure. The pregnancy after that was somewhat unexpected and so we thought it a MUST be our miracle. That hope fell flat with our sixth loss. Our hearts were ripped out and shredded right in front of us, leaving us wondering what do we do with what remains.  What could we possibly do? And so I cried.

For another year I kept my collective sorrow and grief tucked away, just slightly behind my eyes, ready to burst out and make a scene in public at the worst possible moments. So many times in this journey I have been brought to tears.  The injections I was too afraid to administer at home. Every time I thought, "I'm not cut out for this." I cried on the way to every appointment with every specialist, and usually on the way home too. At the bills that came and costs of treatments that didn't work.  At every baby shower invitation. In my car- trying to get the guts to walk up the stairs to my first grief counseling session. Waiting in agony after every blood draw to see how my baby was growing. Every due date that passed with empty arms. Every time my son asks for a baby brother to play astronauts with. I've begged, I've been angry, I've felt slowly crushed to death by depression, and suffocated with anxiety. And I've cried. And cried and cried and cried.  

Today, once again, I am crying. But for the first time in so long, I am feeling the tears of joy run down my face. What a welcome difference, what sweet relief. Tears of joy. 

Kevin's final post-surgical results are in. The DNA he is carrying is normal. Normal. The most beautiful word I've ever heard. I know my tears will continue to fall in abundance. But I pray and I hope with more than I am, that they will continue to be tears of joy. Because I just can't give up.  

I don't know how to thank God enough.  This surgery very easily could have changed nothing.  Honestly even the fertility clinic wasn't even sure what to make of all this.  We have been so blessed.  

I feel heard.  I feel loved.  All I have to do is look at the differences in these three results to see God's hand.  It is a miracle.

 

2/18/15

12/17/15

3/18/16


Or in other words, this year has brought us these results:
.

Ten Months Later...

Three Months After That...

HOORAY FOR NORMAL!!

Countdown to Our Rainbow

What a beautiful thought- our very own rainbow baby.




For those of you unfamiliar with the term, I'll let the wonderful all-knowing internet define it for you:

A “rainbow baby” is a baby that is born following a miscarriage, stillbirth, neonatal death or infant loss. In the real world, a beautiful and bright rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of things getting better. The rainbow is more appreciated having just experienced the storm in comparison.

Next week, we should receive the results of Kevin's final post-op ASR. Those results will tell us if the amount of fragmented DNA he carries has improved again into the "normal" range or if he has continued to stay in that "borderline" category. Still, the borderline area is a great place to be considering how far abnormal he was last year. Basically, our chances are either going to be good, or better. That is welcome news! Which means, either way, it's time to try again. It has been a long, drawn out year, full of waiting of every kind since our 6th loss.

For the first time in a long time, we have real hope that we've fixed the major cause of all our losses. It might just be that our doctors were so focused on all of my contributing risk factors, that we missed the actual cause all along. Still, I'm grateful for the journey because we now are able to treat all of my risk factors too.

Real hope is a beautiful, uplifting, exciting, and terrifying thing. That joy we're starting to feel just imagining a light at the end of this tunnel is deathly afraid of reality creeping in the corner- reminding us of our "statistical chances." Fortunately and unfortunately, it is completely out of our hands and we get to turn it over to God and hope He chooses to bless our best efforts. We have given our all every step of this journey. And more. I have given more than I even knew I had in me.



I love my support groups because I can post something like this and drown in the support and love given back immediately.

Ovulation should be in about three weeks. I'm so impatient and also so scared for it to actually happen. Sorry if any of that is TMI- but fertility blogs tend to have a lot of that! Conceiving becomes so clinical sometimes it's easy to forget it makes people uncomfortable! Haha!

I can take all of these medications faithfully and do everything right- but I know I have no actual control of the end result. I’ve learned the key is just accepting it, and doing your best in spite of that fact.

What a roller coaster of emotions I have been experiencing this month! I'm no longer taking any medications for sleep, anxiety, or depression. Since my anxiety has been mounting it has been difficult to even get out of bed most days. I'm without that help my body has been used to. But I'm finding the strength to do it. I actually thought I was going crazy because I've been feeling these horrible "electrical surges" going through my head all day every day. I didn't even know how to look it up or if I needed to ask a doctor about it. Turns out it's a real thing. Brain zaps. Yep. Side effect of quitting the meds. That's been fun. I keep telling myself they won't last much longer. The nausea and aches were unbearable the first week but they have finally started to subside.

Hooray I'm not crazy!

I wish I could explain the immense amount of stress that comes just thinking of going through a pregnancy again. But I also know I am not ready to give up and I have to fight through that fear. The best analogy I can explain it with is imagining your child is in the PICU after an accident- and you're forced to wait for weeks- not knowing if they will live or die. Even though it’s NOT the same, this is the closest I can come to describing the feeling as a mother, carrying life, and not knowing if they will survive. It is all consuming all the time, no matter how much you try to talk yourself out of it. So when I’ve been told not to stress, because it hurts the baby, it just makes me feel guilty, because not feeling stress in that situation is actually impossible. But I do my best.

I've been working really hard to keep my "triggers" under control, and to breathe through them when they happen. Just for funsies I looked up birth rates per capita and wouldn't you know it, Provo has the HIGHEST birth rate in the entire country. Hahahahah. Of course it does. It didn't surprise me at all. The irony is fantastic. The birth rate is obviously explained with the huge concentration of a Mormon population in the area. The church has a huge focus on families, and large families have always been a part of Mormon culture. It's not something I'm ashamed of- it's something I love. I love when I'm surrounded by big families. Since I'm from a blended family, I'm one of ten kids, and there is nothing better. It's just a tradition I wish I could be a part of. When Kevin and I got married we imagined six kids, and at LEAST four. It's no surprise that life doesn't go as planned- but Provo is a hard place to live if you are dealing with recurrent loss. Reminders are literally everywhere as the community tailors to the needs of so many mothers with young children. Again, not a bad thing. Just a hard thing to escape when I need to.

I felt God's love and comfort when I found this song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQJX4QWO74I

This fitting tribute reminded me that even if this next little one doesn’t make it- that God holds them in a perfect place. They are in His hands- we are all in His hands. He will carry us through this.

Once we are pregnant- I know my whole job will be keeping baby alive, whatever it takes. So I'll have to cut myself some slack in all other areas of my life. My next baby deserves to be loved and celebrated, no matter how long I get to keep them. Perhaps even more so because we don’t know how much time we’ll have together. Our hearts are broken and humble, and our fingers are crossed. I hope that within a couple months I'll be sharing the news that a rainbow is on the way to our family.

He Can Make My Burden Light

14 And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.

15 And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.
-Mosiah 24:14-15

Every day is a struggle.  Every day is a fight.  Every day I try to win this exhausting, drawn out, cruel and ugly battle that confronts me.  But the point is- I'm trying.  I'm still fighting.  I haven't given up- and that means I am winning.  I struggle daily with sadness and crying, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, feelings of despair, loneliness or a combination of any of them.  Sometimes I feel an overwhelming sense of failure.  Sometimes I feel abandoned and wonder if God has forgotten me, or if I've done something (or not done enough) to deserve this.  In the same breath, I disgust myself if I complain.  I have a good life.  I have so many wonderful blessings and so many reasons to be happy every day.  All I need to do is watch the news, then I wonder how I've ever felt sorry for myself.  I'm very fortunate- even in the infertility world specifically, I have been very lucky.  I chalk it up to exhaustion and wonder if it's just my thyroid acting up again.  However, I can't shake the feeling that it may be something more that's troubling me. I did some reading in Psychology Today and was struck by some of the information I found:

One of the less recognized forms of PTSD results from the trauma of having a miscarriage. While a period of grieving and sadness is to be expected after losing an unborn child, it's important to recognize when normal grieving ends and clinical PTSD begins.

By far the most common PTSD symptoms that result from miscarriage are depression and anxiety. Other symptoms may include fatigue, sleep difficulties, lack of concentration, loss of appetite, and frequent episodes of crying.

This article mentions one miscarriage, singular.  It's no wonder my counselor told me, "There's no way you don't have PTSD."  After six.  Add regular grief to that and I actually feel relieved that I'm still functioning somehow.  The struggle now, is that it's been a year since our last lost, and we're only about a month away from trying again (with hope that the surgery worked) thus, I have to go off my medicine that treats any anxiety/depression/PTSD symptoms.  So it's no wonder that as I take less medicine and am exposed to more stressful events and plans that I feel out of control sometimes. 

Psychology today also says:

 "Current research has shown that the stress levels of women with infertility are equivalent to women with cancer, AIDS or heart disease, so there is no question about infertility resulting in enormous stress." 

Now, I am in no way comparing myself to someone with cancer- I can't pretend to know anything about how that feels.  But I thought the comparison can help explain how all-consuming infertility or recurrent loss can be.  I brought this fact up in a support group of mine and another woman said, "I've had cancer. This to me is worse. At least I knew the cancer would be over at some point."

I feel guilty even writing about these feelings in my blog.  I don't want to be a pessimist.  I don't want to be miserable all the time. I don't bask in the melancholy and try to feed off sympathy. I keep writing because there are only so many vices available that aren't self destructive. So I turn to writing. On my worst days, most of my support group will kindly suggest a cocktail and I don't even drink. So I write.  It's not easy, but I know any self-destructive behavior in the end will make everything worse.

I hate feeling despondent, like I'm out of touch with my old self.  I wish I could stop thinking about it for a little bit, take a break, move on, whatever. But the heart just doesn't work that way. My doctor wanted me to continue with counseling because he said the less medicine I take the more support I'm going to need.  Especially as I am nearing a new pregnancy (hopefully.)  I haven't been able to work it out with my new insurance yet.  Luckily for me I have an amazing support system in place at home, and with my extended family and friends.  One of my very good friends told me, "You think you're broken because of how you feel, but you're allowed to feel however you want, and the feelings are going to be what they are. You can't change all of them, or wish them away, or fool yourself for more than a minute. And if people don't understand that, you don't have to justify yourself."  That is real advice from a real friend.  Thank you. 

We're hopefully a month away from a new life and my heart is already breaking.  I feel like I'm already having another loss.  I can't help it-our minds learn from experience.  That's the science.  SO far my odds have been 1 live birth out of 7 pregnancies.  How could I feel any other way?  I've been told, "Hope for the best but prepare for the worst."  Has anyone ever had real hope for the best AND prepared for the worst? It's actually impossible. Only one of those feelings can exist in your mind at a time.  Swinging back and forth is the most emotional roller coaster you can experience.
Elder Holland's talk "Like a Broken Vessel" has brought me so much peace.  It is so reassuring to see someone I admire a great deal talk about struggles with depression.  He explains it in a way that gives me hope, but also reminds me that "It's ok.  It's ok that you feel like this- keep going.  Keep trying."  If you'd like to read or watch this talk, I highly reccomend it: 

 https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng

When I start feeling guilty due to my difficulties I like to remember the words of Elder Uchtdorf, 

"God is not waiting to love you until you have overcome your weaknesses and bad habits.  He loves you today with a full understanding of your struggles."

Some days are happy and go by just fine. Many days are even enjoyable. Then suddenly it's like I've endured it for too long and I just don't feel strong enough. I'm literally at my breaking point at a moment's notice. I know I catch Kevin off guard when I'm suddenly sobbing out of nowhere. I hope God really understands what I can handle. At this point I feel like the rest of my life is going to hurt like this and I've started to blame it on myself. Guilt. Like it sounds ridiculous- but basically thinking things like, "I haven't read my scriptures enough lately, now the next baby is probably going to die." I know how that sounds- but it's the only way to put that "feeling" into words. My brain knows better than that- but my soul aches and looks for reasons, and I blame myself.

I was spoiled for quite a few years- it's like I got all my good things right in a row. I married Kevin within a year of meeting him and Jack was born less than a year later. I graduated with my Bachelor's degree ten months after that. Life was going as perfect as life can go. We decided to try for baby #2 when Jack was 12 months old. That feeling and desire for another baby was so sudden and strong that I had no doubt it was the right time. I was so happy and so excited. That was in the fall of 2012. Since that time, I got sick- my thyroid crashed. I gained weight, I got depressed, and started having panic attacks. I lost six pregnancies along the way. All my symptoms seemed to get worse with each consecutive loss. I just want to start heading back uphill emotionally. I would like to be stable instead of hanging on for dear life the majority of the time. I feel like I've lost touch with that person I used to be. I know I am a stronger person now. I would like the stronger me to meet the happier me. Together we would be unstoppable.

The worst turmoil is waking up feeling defeated and so overwhelmed. First thing in the morning- before a single thing has happened. You feel a literal weight pressing on your chest and think, "I literally can't get out of bed today. Please ground swallow me up so I don't have to feel this sense of dread about just existing today. I want to go back to sleep to escape these feelings I can't deal with." Those thoughts are immediately met by overpowering guilt. "You are making excuses for being lazy, it's not "being kind to yourself" or "giving yourself a break" it's avoiding your responsibilities."

I feel ashamed and disappointed in myself. I know better. I pray to be released from it, but don't know what the appropriate action is. Is it better to face the day and risk a total meltdown? Or regroup and try again tomorrow? Anxiety and depression together, when they aren't being managed properly, is being imprisoned in your own mind. It's hell.  Some days I just pray for energy.  Because if I had energy, I could keep myself busy and that would help.  If I could feel accomplished that would help.  But when I'm so tired that my house is a mess even when I'm home all day- it only makes me feel worse.  

You have self loathing, feel defeated, and yet you are desperate to fix it, but don't feel strong enough to try. You make yourself ill in order to have a"valid excuse" to lay around all day, but you know deep down that it's still "your fault." I am so tired of fighting this battle.  The difficult part is recognizing the problem as depression, but having a hard time changing anything about it.  I can't seem to just wish it away.  I want to fix it so I don't feel like this anymore andI know it won't be overnight.  I know it's only natural to feel like this because I'm afraid of what is coming.  But I can be brave- I'm ready to keep trying.  If I do nothing else, I know I need to keep close to the Lord.  If I can keep my faith strong, then come what may, everything will be alright.  I don't have to earn love from my Heavenly Father.  He will take me through it.

Perhaps all of this struggle is indication of good things to come.  Things rarely get better before they get harder.  Perhaps this year will hold miracles for us and blessings that we continue to wait on to be realized.  I still know it's possible.  Somewhere deep down I know that our next baby could live long enough to be born.  And even if we lose our next baby too- I'm glad that I have the chance to at least try, to carry them even for a short while.  Many will never even have that chance.

We continue to get good news in other aspects of our lives. Our Jack Jack was accepted into private school and will start kindergarten in August. What?! I'm so excited for him but the earth seems to move under my feet when I think about him being in school all day five days a week. It will be quite an adjustment. He's also doing great in Speech Therapy, and is amazing all those who work there. I'm really hopeful that if we keep working at it, we may be able to avoid having to get his tongue clipped again. They had to test all of his language skills with a two hour test at a desk, which seems like a lot even for an adult. After the test the therapist came to me and said, "In 18 years, I have never seen a child score so high on this test. The preschool test can't even accurately score how high he is, all we can say is that he's at least above the level of a 7 year old. He's an amazing child- I've never seen anything like this." I almost became emotional. I have known for a while that he is a miracle baby, but to have a professional confirm that he is gifted just renewed my faith and my determination to be the best mother I can to him. I hope I can focus my time and energy more on this aspect of my life.

Thank you all for your love and prayers (really I do mean that.) Kevin's final ASR test is scheduled for March 18. We'll get results a few days after that and hopefully we will see that our chances have improved even more. Either way, we're hoping to see that second line on a pregnancy test sometime this spring, and hope even more to have a healthy baby in our arms early next year.

The Faith of a Child

I never planned on informing Jack about our miscarriages until he was much older.  I didn’t want to bog him down with adult concerns and sorrows and take away from his happy childhood.  In recent months, however, it became a concern for me because he asked about a new baby for our family almost every day.  For a boy of four and a half years, he is keen on understanding everything down to the last detail.  The simple answer of “Heavenly Father hasn’t sent a new baby yet” did not satisfy him.  The more he asked, the more I started to wonder if I should just tell him the truth in simple terms and try to help him cope with it instead of answering around it. As far as I know, he is the only member of his primary class and preschool class who doesn’t have one or two younger siblings.  I think that’s starting to become more obvious to him.  He had a new cousin born on Super Bowl Sunday.  While I was dealing with my own turmoil that day and confronting my mixed emotions of grief and the joy in becoming an auntie again- I didn’t notice how it was affecting Jack.  He asked me, “Can I share the baby so he can be my little brother too?”  My heart broke and I felt like a failure for not being able to provide my boy with any siblings yet. 

As the questions kept coming I decided to be honest with him.  I told him, “I really want a new baby too, but something is wrong with Mommy’s body and we don’t know what it is, so I haven’t been able to grow a healthy baby.”  I didn’t bring up Kevin’s risk factors because I figured that would just confuse him more.  That answer seemed to satisfy him for a little bit, but not long.  I was driving him to school the next day and he said, “Mommy I think we need to take you to the hospital right now.  So they can figure out why you can’t have a baby.”  I thought of all the visits and appointments and procedures combined through the course of our six losses.  I told him, “Honey, I’ve been to the hospital many many times.  The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong.”  That answer didn’t work for Jack either- he just knew there was a way to fix this. 

I had the impression that it was ok to share with him the whole story. I told him, “Mommy has grown some other babies in her tummy, but they all died before they were born.  They are safe and happy and live with Heavenly Father.  We don’t know why they didn’t grow for very long.  That’s why you are a miracle!  You grew long enough to be born healthy.”  I waited for him to ask questions about how a miscarriage works, but instead- he surprised me.  The very first thing he asked was, “Mommy, were you sad and scared when you were growing those babies?”  My heart stopped at the sensitivity and insight of his question.  His empathy astounded me and I felt so touched as I realized how much he loves me.  I told him yes- I was scared and sad every time.  He asked me a few more questions.  Did the babies have names?  Did we know if they were boys or girls?  Why didn’t we bury them?  Then he just sat and pondered for a while.

Suddenly he asked, “Do you think Heavenly Father and Jesus know what’s wrong?”  I said, “Well, yeah.  They know everything so I’m sure they know what’s going wrong.”  Even though I was still driving, he said, “Mommy, I need you to be reverent because I’m going to say a prayer.”  Once again, my heart was touched that he thought so immediately to turn to Heavenly Father.  He bowed his head and prayed, “Dear Heavenly Father, please figure out what’s going on with Mommy’s body so that we can have another baby in our family.  It can be a boy baby or a girl baby.  In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”  He sat back satisfied with a smile on his face- as if to say “There, fixed it.  Now everything is going to be ok.”  After his prayer I felt peace like I haven’t felt in a very long time.  I remembered that it really is that simple- we don’t know the answer to something, so we turn it over to the Lord in faith.  I felt peace because I KNEW God heard that prayer.  The innocent prayer of a child. 

The faith he exhibited was such an example to me.  Then of course, he made me laugh saying, “I said it could be a boy or a girl baby because I thought it would be better for Heavenly Father to pick.”  He also tried to comfort me saying that our puppy made our family bigger and he could be like my baby for now.  I’m so glad that Jack is involved in this family trial now.  I feel like we can be a team now.  We can pray together as a family and discuss how we all feel.  I’m thankful for the example of the faith of a child- and for his wisdom beyond his years.

Keep You Close

I know I write often about my babies that I don't have here with me.  Today I want to start out writing about my miracle baby that I get to enjoy every day!  Jack is growing like a weed; it seems like his new pants are always too short.  His mind is growing even faster.  He's such an inquisitive little soul and wants to understand everything.  Just the other day he wanted me to explain the physics behind how artists record songs in a studio and how those vibrations make it to our car radio and still sound the same.  I might have to go back to school to keep up with him.  I'm so grateful that he has a natural love for learning.  It gives me so much joy to watch his excitement in school and in extra curriculars.  His reading is improving and he's loving swimming, gymnastics, and music lessons.  Right now he keeps asking me if he can learn to ice skate so he can play hockey when he gets older.  We already knew he was a special boy, since the doctors can't explain how he is here with us; but, his mind continues to amaze me.  I know every parent sees the brightest parts of their child, but I might dare say I think he is a gifted child.  I was reluctant to say that to people, thinking I would just come across as a braggy parent, but I've had a few of his teachers confirm that same thought to me.  He has a bit of a speech impediment, but I'm glad they can hear past it and listen to his ideas.

                                                                 
Jack's birthday is September 13th.  The cutoff for public school to start Kindergarten this year is September 1st.  This thought has been keeping me awake at night since he was about 2 years old.  I know he would be ok waiting another year, it's not a life or death matter, but I believe so strongly that going to school this year is so important for him.  He is so ready to go to school.  It's just the two of us at home, and despite workbooks and trips to the library, etc- I think he needs to be around other children in his learning environment.  I've noticed that even in a group setting like preschool he will always engage in conversation with the adult first.  That's what he's used to.  I know it would be so beneficial for him to be in school at his current age so that he continues to be challenged.  I didn't think the 12 days would make much of a difference because I was sure he could test into kindergarten. He's reading and writing at a basic level.  Utah doesn't allow testing into kindergarten because of funding issues.  Thus, I've been trying to figure out private school for the past year because I felt so strongly that staying home another year with mom was not the best thing for him.

The first issue is cost.  Most private kindergartens in the area are all day programs and cost on average between 500-900 dollars a month. Since I'm no longer working that is impossible.  I've applied for financial aid from the schools, government grants, etc for him.  I didn't think it would be this hard to afford school for him until college.

And then my prayers were answered.  I found the perfect school for Jack.  I had such a feeling of peace as I was touring it and filling out paperwork.  They were so willing to work with me financially- they offer a way better discount than any other school- and if I get the state grant for him also it would basically be free tuition.  This school is so amazing- I don't think he'll ever want to come home.  The entire school uses a "talented and gifted" curriculum- so I'm in the process of getting Jack some letters of recommendation.  I know that as a child, I had a really difficult time in school until I found the right TAG program for myself.  Being in a gifted classroom made all the difference in the world for me, socially and academically.  I didn't know the difference once I was in the right place.  Starting my grade a year younger than everyone else, then skipping a grade in one state (I was in a 3rd grade classroom as a 2nd grader, but a year younger than most 2nd graders) was difficult because when I moved to another state they made me "repeat" 3rd grade. They didn't want me going to 4th grade the age of a 2nd grader.  Halfway through that year they tested me and moved me to a different school with a gifted program.  Being in a classroom that just taught to where I was in every subject made school a wonderful place to be.  I'm pretty sure I grew out of being smart...but I want to give Jack the best chance at it haha.

The kindergarten at this school has 20 field trips a year.  They learn Spanish, French, and German.  They offer mini courses for the kids in subjects like archery and skiing (yes they go to the mountain to practice.)  Since there are only about 100 students Preschool-9th grade, they mix the classes all the time with kids of all different ages to work together.  That's a nice benefit, because if a child is ahead or behind in a subject, they will put them in the appropriate level class and no one really knows why (even the child) because they are always mixed anyway.  Their PE classes include Yoga and Karate.  Their music classes include vocal and instrument lessons- taught by a prestigious musician well known in the area.  Half of the year they combine music with drama and the entire school puts on a musical- this year is Seussical.  Of course they have other classes like art and computers also.  I love the technology they use for learning- they record the kids reading in the computer lab and use the recordings to pinpoint exactly where their strengths and weaknesses are.  This is a school where there is no "teaching to the test" and they go above and beyond the state benchmarks.  I asked about the testing and found out they use a global test where the questions get harder as the children answer correctly, and even out once they start missing answers to hone in on the correct level.  They spent an hour talking to me and showing me around, and I was almost emotional because I feel like it will be so perfect for my son.  Since I'm not working I hope to be able to go on the field trips with them (except I might make Kevin go camping at the Dinosaur National Monument...I hate camping.) I actually believe them when they say they have a Zero Tolerance for Bullying policy- because with such small classes I think it's easier to manage.  There is no swearing allowed and every incident gets a call to a parent.  Pretty high standards- but kids can meet the standards you set for them.

This school is a "The Leader in Me" school which means as part of their curriculum they teach leadership skills beased on Stephen Covey's book "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People"

I'm so hopeful that this school will work out for Jack Jack in the fall so he can start Kindergarten this year.  I'm hoping Kevin can find a close job next January so we can stay in the area for a while to get established and Jack can at least have one full year at the same school.  I hope I can do what it takes to keep Jack Jack close to me even as he is in school through most of the week.

I wanted to share a painting by Angela Reichman, a friend of mine.  She has an art degree and though she's a busy mom she finds time to paint things meaningful to her.  A few months ago she told me she wanted to do two paintings, one of Hannah from the Old Testament, and one of a modern woman struggling with infertility- showing the strength of women through the ages who put their faith in God through a very challenging trial.  I can't imagine what Hannah went through every day- not only to be barren, but for her husband to have a second wife who was very fertile.  Nope.  I would not have lasted long in that situation.  Angela asked me to come model for the paintings since I had a connection to the subject.  She's finished the first piece of the Old Testament Hannah (it looks nothing like me since she changed the face/hair to look more Jewish) but still is very meaningful just having posed for it :)  I look forward to seeing Hannah II (the modernized one) but in the meantime, here is Hannah I:

Now on to writing about the hard stuff.  Having recurrent pregnancy loss never gets "easier" but I think I learn how to live with it better as time goes on.  It's difficult to see so many kids Jack's age with their younger siblings.  Lately my mantra has been "I know it hurts but it's not time to think about that right now, you have to think about something else right now and you can be sad later."  It helps me to not have as many panic attacks in public.  I try to calm myself until I get home where I can be in a safe environment to be emotional.  I've been doing a little better.  My cute puppy at home always brings me a little smile with his love, no matter how hard of a day it's been.  Music is always soothing to me.  I've been looking into getting familiar with the piano again.  We'll see how that goes.

I had my last session with my counselor (since I'm not employed at the hospital anymore it's no longer free) and we had a really nice discussion.  I basically asked her for send-off advice since I've already had my IUD removed and am in the "preparation" stages of having some normal cycles, switching medications, etc.  We talked about breathing and relaxation exercises to practice now so that I can call on them easily when I need them (such as in the first terrifying few weeks of a pregnancy).  She talked to me about PTSD.  When soldiers come home to a safe place it still takes their minds a while to catch up- which is why they will hit the ground every time they hear a loud noise. They don't feel safe yet- their minds can't recognize the fact that they're in a different place.  She told me, "There's no way you don't have PTSD so you are going to feel that for a while in a pregnancy.  The feelings are just going to be what they are.  You won't feel safe and those panic feelings will resurface, but let them happen and they will improve over time."  We talked about "survivor's guilt" because if I am several months into a healthy pregnancy I wonder if I will struggle with that.  Some other ladies I've talked to have struggled with guilt carrying a healthy child after losing several.  I would much rather handle that problem though, so come what may.  I'm glad she didn't give me the speech I've heard so often," Just have faith.  Try not to worry.  Be positive, don't think about the other losses."  That advice always makes me feel guilty.  She told me that it will be normal to feel hopeful with an undercurrent of anxiety and sadness, because we LEARN from our experiences.  Thank you!  Yes, I can't simply ignore my medical history and poor chances.  Reality teaches us too- we have to use that together with our faith and prepare ourselves for what may lie ahead. I told her some of the things I've been experiencing lately, which sounds a lot like depression, but I think it's actually thyroid related.  The feeling exhausted when I wake up no matter how long I sleep, never being able to get warm, brain fog, feeling like I'm walking through molasses all day, and so on and so forth.  Turns out, my counselor had thyroid cancer and had her thyroid removed so she totally understands the struggle to regulate it.  She agreed it sounds like a thyroid issue so I'm going to go get that checked out again.  Just stay normal for a while thyroid!

Sometimes I feel like people assign "reasons" to tragedies.  Either a medical reason, or a lack of faith, or a sin- whatever it may be.  I've seen this happen to friends who have lived through much worse than me.  When will we be able to just accept the fact that sometimes really horrible things just happen to good people- who don't deserve it for any reason at all?  We pretend like we can understand the mind of God and decide why things have to happen- to make sense of it for ourselves. Once we accept the impossible idea that bad things in this life just happen sometimes, and we won't always get to know why, we can mourn together and strengthen each other the way that is needed.  We can feel that hopelessness and confusion that those who mourn feel.  We can recognize the pain for what it is, instead of assigning blame or explaining it away.  It just hurts, it's just hard, and that's ok.

Extreme challenges in life bring us mindfulness and wisdom.  It's a heavy price to pay- but once ignorance is gone you can truly help others.  You will have sensitivity to pain, loss, and grief.  A broken heart is a broken heart, no matter the reason.  Once you have felt it, you understand how another suffering soul is feeling.

I'm starting to learn acceptance.  I feel like God sometimes tells us, "I'm not going to take this away from you- but I will make it as easy on you as I can.  I will help you.  You're not alone."

Tender mercies come when you least expect it.  I received a birthday card last year that has encouraged me for the last five months.  I'm not sure if the giver had any clue how much the card would mean to me.  It validated me in my hard days, and encouraged me for the future- what a wonderful birthday wish.

The last thing I wanted to share today were some pictures of this gorgeous ring.  My counselor and I talked about memorializing my lost babies.  I love my angel ring, but I also wanted something a little more individualized.  As I was thinking about it one day- I realized that each lost baby had a different birthstone.  Since they weren't actually born, I would consider the stone to be in the month that I lost each one. So I had this ring made, representing" November, February, May, December, October, and March.  It's been a comforting way for me to keep them close.  I have my wedding ring on my left ring finger, which makes me think of Kevin and Jack.  I have this ring on my right ring finger to think of the rest of my family.  Both rings bring me peace when I think of the truth that Families are Forever.

 

Small Victories

Kevin's surgery results are in!  It has been a very long ten months in between these two tests.  A lot of waiting.  Waiting to get set up with a specialist, waiting for the consultation, scheduling the surgery and waiting some more, waiting four months after the surgery to see if it actually did anything, etc. etc.  The fertility clinic told me they were anxious to get the results in because they haven't really seen a case like this before and wanted to see if the surgery actually changed anything.  Yeah, imagine how I feel if my doctor is anxious! Haha.  I've put the results into a table so that they would be easier to read and understand:

Test	February 18, 2015	December 17, 2015 (16 weeks post-op)
DNA Fragmentation	32 (abnormal)	22 (borderline)
Oxidative Stress	4.6 (abnormal)	4.0 (borderline)
Decondensed DNA	8 (normal)	5 (normal)
Chance of live birth with natural conception	Poor	Reduced

My first reaction to the results was relief.  The surgery actually did SOMETHING at least.  It was soon followed with a bittersweet feeling of, "Ok, it improved, but not enough to be in the normal range, does this mean more waiting?  Is it good enough to try again, or is it still a big risk?  Will it get better?  What if it gets worse again?"  Kevin's reaction was more disappointed- obviously we were both hoping he would be totally healed and then it would be an easy decision.  But I can't complain, I am SO thankful to see a positive result come back for once.  And I know from my conversation with the Reproductive Urologist after the surgery that it can often continue to improve.  Healing takes time.

Our reproductive endocrinologist was actually very impressed with these results- it seemed they were better than what he anticipated.  His response was along the lines of, "The scientist in me would like to see if it got better in three more months, but these results are good enough that you can attempt pregnancy again if you're ready."  So our chances of not losing the next baby were better than they had been, but could get even better,  Tough choice- only because I've been feeling impatient.

In the end, even though we were really hopeful that we could try again right away, we decided to wait and retest because I want to give our next baby every chance.  If waiting three more months, and having Kevin continue the antioxidant therapy puts his next test in the normal range, it will be well worth it.  It takes longer than that to recover physically from a loss- I would rather just not go through all that again.  So the next tentative test date will be around March 17.  After that we'll probably try for a baby regardless of if the results are the same or if they have improved (because at that point the numbers will probably stay close to what they come back at.)  If we conceive again and lose the baby, it could be likely that my health issues are the larger contributor to our problems.  Our only option at that point would be IVF with ICSI where they let the embryos grow and test them for genetic viability before placing them in the uterus.  Even at that point, if they know the embryo is healthy, they are not sure I could carry.  If we lose a baby after the assistance of IVF with ICSI that's probably the end of the road for us as far as having more biological children.  That's as far as modern medicine can take us.  But that is a couple years out at least- if for not any other reason than the huge financial cost.

We've had lots of other changes at home recently.  I left my job at the hospital.  It was not an easy decision.  There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth and I pretty much had a full identity crisis.  I loved my job and I felt like it was helping me in so many ways.  However, with Kevin's new schedule this last year of his doctorate, I knew it was the right thing to do to stay home.  Not only would it be costing me money to work (between insurance and child care). but I don't know how I could put more responsibility on Kevin to also take care of Jack every evening.  He's working 12 hour days (for no pay), has three additional classes, and is studying for the national exams in less than a year to be a DPT.  I can't imagine asking him to also pick up Jack every night, make dinner, put him in bed, and try to spend any quality time with Jack.  I didn't want to have to farm my four-year-old out all over the place (because daycare isn't even open that late) for me to be able to go to work...to make no money.  I'm sure Jack will be happier at home.  Staying home is going ok so far.  There was a lot to work out financially and insurance-wise, but the Lord has provided.  I feel like an important anchor for the family, and I've been super busy still.  I'm just as exhausted as I was when working- so that's probably a good sign.  Jack has lots of activities including gymnastics preschool, music lessons, and swimming lessons.  I had to take him out of private school since I'm not working and couldn't afford it.  I'm still hoping that somehow I can get him into kindergarten in the fall- he is so ready and his teachers have agreed.  We've applied for a tuition grant for private school since he barely misses the age cutoff.  We meet the qualifications for the grant, but they choose by random drawing, so it's in God's hands now.  We'll find out between May and August this year if he got the grant.

Other changes at our house- we got a puppy!  He was nine weeks old when I brought him home.  I named him Mozart.  I've been begging God for a baby for so long; I'm happy with any type of baby at this point.  He is a ton of work and has way too much energy, is not house trained, and has to have an eye on him at all times- so, perfect. :)  He keeps me busy and productive.  Plus he thinks I'm his real mommy and actually wants me to carry him around most of the time.  He snuggles with me lots and just makes my days better.  I'm still trying to convince Kevin that he is worth liking.  

I'm sure some of my readers deal with anxiety, so I'm going to share a few things I learned from my counselor about panic attacks.  I told her that I was racked with guilt because church was getting more difficult for me to go to and the dread on Saturday night was causing predictable weekly panic attacks- like clockwork.  I was physically ill almost every Sunday morning, with either a migraine or stomach flu symptoms and I wondered if I was actually making myself sick as to have a valid excuse not to go.  Since the spiritual aspect of church is something positive in my life, I wanted to understand how I could enjoy that blessing without all the anxiety.

She told me that the biggest indicator predicting a panic attack is having had one at that location in the past.  Since my first ever panic attack was at church, and the several that followed were also, my body is already on high alert just thinking about being there.  We talked about how fight or flight hormones are amplified when you are scared of having an attack or embarrassed that you're having one.  Fight or flight is a natural response, but it's happening in an inappropriate situation.

My counselor explained that the best thing I can do for the panic attacks is to have a "so what" attitude about it, and just let it happen.  That people notice less than I think, so if I'm shaking or hyperventilating, just let it happen.  The calmer a person can be, the shorter the attack will be.  You feel out of control on the inside, but you aren't really out of control.  It's just a response.  It's nothing you haven't dealt with before.  It's going to happen- then it will be over.

She taught me that while it is important to be kind to yourself and do things that help you get through the pain of the day- you must draw the line at avoidance.  Avoidance is instantly rewarding, so your body will increase the anxiety felt each week in order to get that same result and gratification.  She said that our brains have more power than we know- and it's no surprise I find myself ill on Saturday nights- and that it has increased in severity over time.  By doing everything I can to help the anxiety EXCEPT avoiding it, I will eventually overcome it.  I told her I feel fake going to church with a smile when I feel crazy inside.  She said it's not fake- it's just battling that fight or flight feeling.  Going will also combat the guilt that compounds into depression, and more anxiety about the situation.  So I do the best I can, and I have tried to not avoid most situations that I know are difficult for me.  Is it easy? No. Absolutely not.  But I'm working on it because I believe she made some really good points.  She did tell me that it wasn't necessary for me to attend events like baby showers- but I should continue to find the strength to go to church. In moments of panic, I should focus on feeling my feet on the floor, hands on the steering wheel, etc. 

Even though I'm not an employee anymore, she said we could have one more visit in a month to see how things were going with me staying at home (and hopefully not retreating into my house all day every day).  She wanted me to find fulfillment in other things and find ways to meet all the needs that having a job was meeting.  My counselor also thought a dog would be great for me, so I'm sure she'll be happy to find out about Mozart :)

I also visited my doctor and we adjusted my medication a bit.  I have been on a new medication for sleep that also acts as an anti-depressant, and it is the best thing that ever happened to me.  I sleep so much better, and wake up with more energy and motivation to start the day.  Fortunately it's not an addicting sleep aid and it's not one that makes you hallucinate or forget things (ambien terrifies me...)  I've also had an "as needed" anxiety med.  I don't feel like it makes a huge difference in moments of panic, but I think it helps keep me moderate when I take it once or twice a day.  It doesn't make me sleepy or anything to take it- and it's not a benzo or anything addictive.  I'm hoping that I can manage with it so I don't need to switch to anything more dangerous or addictive.  I'm trying to use mind power instead ;)  Music is so powerful to soothe the soul- I'm so thankful that I discovered that power early in my life so I can use it now.

Jack has started to ask about babies frequently lately.  Questions like "When are you going to grow another baby?"  I thought when those questions started they would make me upset, but I actually find it sweet that he cares.  I just tell him that I don't know when it will happen.  I haven't shared any other details of the situation with him yet- there's no need for him to worry about things that are out of our control.  He told me the other day out of the blue, "When Daddy finishes school and we buy a house, we need to have a yellow elephant room."  I asked him why on earth we would need that.  He replied, "When you grow your next baby she will be a girl and I think she'll like elephants.  And we should paint it yellow because she'll like that color like you."  I really hope he has vision that I don't have.  I'd love for him to choose a nursery theme.

I was watching a movie where one of the characters was pregnant.  There was a scene in the movie where she was sleeping peacefully with her hand on her belly, and her husband was talking to their little one quietly as to not wake up his wife.  It was a very sweet moment.  Then the next scene showed her in the morning, walking then suddenly stopping, wincing, grabbing her belly in pain.  My heart started pounding right there in the theater because I felt it.  That pain.  That fear.  I remembered exactly how it felt- all of it.  Not a memory of the experience- I was experiencing the emotions all over again.  I almost forgot how much they hurt.  All the sudden I felt dizzy and felt the urge to be violently ill.  I felt Kevin's grip on my leg tighten and felt some comfort in knowing he knew what I was feeling.  As the character was in the doctor's office and had it confirmed that the baby was dead, I was frozen inside with fear.  I couldn't believe how hard those emotions hit again just by being reminded.  The positive pregnancy test and the optimism that you try to keep despite the reality that your chances are not good.  The short time where things are going right and you allow yourself to feel hope.  You try not to let worry put stress on your body.  Then the pain comes, you try to ignore it or explain it away, but the dread settles over you like a heavy blanket.  Then comes the devastating "there is no heartbeat" appointment. Then the grief and hopelessness washes over you.

Watching this movie, I felt all the emotions come back like a punch to the gut and realized I was beyond terrified to try again.  Kevin asked me after the movie if I was ok since there was a rough scene in it.  I thought about how the same character went on to have 2 healthy babies after the one loss and how that likely wouldn't be the case for me.  I looked at Kevin and said, "I can't do it again.  I just can't go through it again.  I can't lose a 7th baby in a row.  It's impossible and I'm terrified.  I can't do it."  I hope God knows me well enough to know that.  It's coming up on a year since my last loss and although our chances have improved I'm terrified to go through the ordeal again.  There is hope, but I am crippled by the fear that a few months in the future an 8th pregnancy will bring us a 7th loss instead of a 2nd child.

One night I had a particularly embarrassing breakdown in front of many family members as we were having a post-christmas party.  I was met with so much love and support.  So much empathy.  I was encircled with love and felt my heart burst with gratitude to God for such loving family members.  My brother, brother-in-law, and husband opted to give me a blessing.  In the blessing, I was told that although I couldn't understand why at this point, there were reasons for this trial.  I was also told that though the heartache was difficult, I would have "small victories" to keep us going and to have hope for blessings in the future. I pray that 2016 will continue to bring those small victories because I'm just not sure how much fight I have left in me.  

Fortunately I have seen those victories start to happen already.  I'm so happy with Kevin's post-op results.  I have such wonderful family and friends supporting me.  I've been blessed with knowledge from my counselor that I can use to combat my anxiety.  I have a wonderful loving puppy who keeps me busy during the day and out of dark places and despair.  And I have all of you- thanks you for your support and love.  I really would have lost my mind by now without it.  I hope this new year brings all of you miracles and happiness!