I'm tired

I'm tired, so tired of all the drama!  The losses, the grief, the hurt, the confusion... it is time... it is time to embrace the good in life.
My list of good
P- he makes me happy (most of the time), provides for our family, and takes my thoughts feelings and concerns seriously
C- he loves me no matter how many times I have to punish him for disobedience in one day.  He cuddles me and holds me accountable to be a good mom.
F- she cries when either P or I leave, because she loves us, climbs into our laps just to laugh and make us laugh with her.
Prissy- she is old, blind, anemic and poops on my floor, but she is a great dog and has been a good friend to me for all her nearly 15 years.
My mom and dad- they are opening their home to us, making space where they could easily say there was none, and not charging us rent for it.
My doctor- after talking to her this afternoon I was reassured that when and if P and I decide to have another baby we are free to do it on our own timeline... that I am safe to get pregnant even though I just had another surgery, and that WE (not everyone else who thinks their opinion maters) can decide when it is right to have more children if we want that.
My GOD- for carrying me when I can't walk.. I really feel like these last two months I have not taken a single step without his assistance... I am NOT capable of living through all that I've been through, I would have fallen to pieces a long time ago without His support.  I feel like I am a living example of the footprints poem... only instead of growing bitter for feeling alone in this rough time, I really feel like I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it is God alone who is getting me through this!
Penske- their customer service is amazing, and they had all sorts of discounts and things that made them the cheapest route to go with for a moving truck as well!

My list is short, but it is growing, and I have faith that when God decides to put me back on my own two feet I will be able to stand, and then to run, leap and serve God with all my heart because he carried me through this.

Embracing life in all its forms

I've been thinking, and talking, and dwelling, and resting... among all the packing and cleaning and garage sale managing.  The conclusion that I've drawn is this. 

Life really does go on forever. 

Hear me out. Some people's lives will go on in memories from their families, or contributions they made to society, or whatever. Other people (those who have accepted Christ) will go on to live in Heaven and worship God through service, action, music, whatever.... I wont get into my theories on heaven and hell or anythign here it has nothing to do with my thoughts.

But here are the lives that I've been thinking on.

C
The sweetest boy God ever created, and let me help in the molding of his young life.  The day he was born my heart sprung out of my chest and connected to his instantly... I will never forget it.  The day he stopped breathing as a 7 week old infant I thought my own life was ending.  I cried enough tears to fill a bath tub I'm sure.  The day he learned to crawl... well not really crawl but more like plant his face on the floor kick his feet in the air and somehow wrangle his body forward on the floor I was the proudest mommy there ever was.  His knack for dancing like a penguin, calling Anteaters "aunt becky's" and all his tiny quirks are absolutely the spark to a burning flame that grows brighter and brighter by the day, and my love for him is beyond belief.

F
Things with F were not as easy in the beginning and I didn't have that instant love for her like with C, but every day m heart just leaps from my chest when she smiles at me, or comes to my knees with that goofy grin and squinty eyes and starts laughing just to laugh.  Her knack for finding things that were hidden or lost, and her curiousity about how things work, her love of pictures in books, and the way she points and wants to know what absolutely everything is called and even repeats the names of the things but then wont say them for any reason beyond that initial reason.  Her love of her dad, and the way she doesn't give hugs but rather tucks her arms under her body leans her head on your shoulder and expects you to wrap your arms around her in a comfy embrace. 

P
The love of my life, the gift that God gave me and I wonder daily why he blessed me so much.  The way he thinks that if he is eating too much for his diet and I tell him that it isn't healthy he smiles and offers to share with me... as if letting me indulge in his guilty pleasure takes the guilt off from him.  The way he stands up to his mom to defend me when our views clash.  The Love he has for me, especially when I'm sad, hurt or grumpy.  I've put this man through so very much, but he stays constant, he loves me no matter what.  The best most recent thing this loving man did for me was just talking to me about Jaemi. I feel like if we don't talk about my baby then people don't believe that Jaemi exists, but P took the time, talked to me, and showed me that he could imagine our baby too.  I love this guy!

Jaemi
Jaemi is in heaven, I never got to see the sweet smile, the eyes that grow bigger at the sight of a familiar face, the chubby fingers that would have traced my mouth and pulled at my teeth (all babies do that right?  or is it just mine?)  I think about the laughter that would have sounded from that sweet mouth, the hair that I don't know the color of.  I think about whether Jaemi would have been into sports or art, video games or nature.... all of those thoughts and none of them answered... but that does NOT mean that Jaemi doesn't have hopes, fears, interests, and love... it just means that I have to wait until my own visit to heaven to meet my little one!  Sometimes I hear about near death experiences and I wonder, I know I didn't die on the operating table, but not everyone with that sort of experience does, I wonder if I could have met my baby and I just don't remember.... probably not... it would be a painful thing to leave your child like that.  But I'm excited to meet Jaemi, and I'm sure that my baby will be waiting for my hugs when I get to heaven and finally meet them!

Tristen
She is gone, and I have no proof that dogs get to go to heaven, but I like to think that the greatest dog in the world passed on to heaven and is now caring for my baby, she used to lick C and play with him like he was her puppy, I wonder if Jaemi is her puppy now.  Tristen taught herself the first trick she ever learned, she begged for food while I was cooking... I didn't even know dogs actually did that aside from because a human told them too, but there she was, this fluffy bundle of fur sitting up on her back legs, her front paws dangling and her nose sniffing the air hoping for a scrap.  I loved that she only chewed on things for a short time, and that her favorite thing to chew was cords rather than shoes, a few lamps didn't make it, and a pair of my glasses were ruined, but the whole chewing phase was so quick.  I loved that she would come for attention and once she got a little love she'd go on, she didn't beg for attention constantly, but she loved the attention she got.  I loved that she was potty trained in such a short time and rarely ever had accidents.  I loved that she was so patient with our children, and loved them like her own.

Life really does have a way of continuing forever, even the ones that you don't even know about... there are more questions than answers about Jaemi, and even Tristen, but I know them, I know they existed, I know that one day I will see Jaemi (maybe even Tristen) and once I do I'll have all the answers, and no matter what those answers are I'll be proud of my child!  Not because of anything that Jaemi did or didn't do, but because Jaemi is my baby.

I was told today by a friend who lost her own baby, that I'm dealing better with the lost of Jaemi than she dealt with the loss of hers, and that she admired my strength, and my gentle spirit... I don't feel strong, I don't feel like my spirit is gentle, I feel like I'm in the midst of a storm and being tossed about in the waves, but that just makes me think of my favorite verse in the bible Isaiah 54:11-17 O afflicted one, storm-tossed, and not comforted, I am about to set your stones in antimony, and lay your foundations with sapphires. I will make your pinnacles of rubies, your gates of jewels, and all your wall of precious stones.  All your children shall be taught by the Lord, and great shall be the prosperity of your children.  In righteousness you shall be established; you shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear; and from terror, for it shall not come near you.  If anyone stirs up strife, it is not from me; whoever stirs up strife with you shall fall because of you.  See it is I who have created the smith who blows the fire of coals, and produces a weapon fit for its purpose; I have also created the ravager to destroy.  No weapon that is fashioned against you shall prosper, and you shall confute every tongue that rises against you in judgement.  This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me, says the Lord."

The whole chapter is my favorite, but I don't need to know what the first half is personally because I'm living it... I am storm tossed, I'm wind whipped, I am exhausted, I am lonely, I am forgotten by most, but that last half is what I need to remind myself, that God has not forgotten me, that he see me as a princess and is providing a royal place for me to live, even though I'm approaching him with a sideways ponytail that isn't really holding any of my layers anymore, my hair is greasy and covered in baby food, my clothes are ripped and don't fit right anymore, i have not had a shower if forever and my socks are so stretched out that they are not worth wearing anymore.  I'm a princess to God, and I'm headed straight into his arms and just watch and see what happens to anyone who tries to keep me from him!

Jaemi my sweet angel.

It has taken me the last 11 days to both heal enough, and collect my thoughts enough to announce here on my blog that Jaemi made his or her entrance to heaven on Jan 26, 2012.  The tears are waiting just inside my eye lids to fall to the floor or land in my hair as I write this.
I'll attempt to start at where I left off.  My lab numbers were continuing their slow increase and my doctors office had finally released my chart to have me seen at a regular OB/GYN office.  I was relieved and excited that finally they were giving me some hope that my baby had a chance in the world, that I might be able to carry this little infant to term and deliver another smiling baby into my arms and nurse and build the love that I had felt inside from the moment those scary words were spoken to me in the ER "you're pregnant, but we think you've miscarried". 
Yesterday was Sunday, the first in weeks that I'd attended church.  Sore and tired, we shared communion, and ordinarily I would have been having a moment of repentance and communion with my God, but instead the tears fell silently from my eyes dropping to my shirt and staining it with the salt (I didn't know a tear could stain, but it can, at least until it is washed) I prayed silently and passionately for my baby, that God would hold him/her and care for Jaemi, that he would let Jaemi know how much I loved him/her.
Back to the story, I received a phone call from an ob office on Jan 24th, told them that I had been on bed rest, and that I was having my blood hCG levels checked frequently and what the numbers were.  The woman told me that bed rest was not recommended anymore and I was instantly mad at her... how dare she (a person without medical license)  tell me that my doctor's recommendation would make no difference in the life of my child.  She took all of my information and said she would call me back soon.
She called much sooner than I thought she would, maybe an hour after I'd first spoke to her.  She said they were scheduling my first appointment with an ultrasound tech the next day and could I make it?  I told her yes, but then after talking to my husband I realized that I couldn't.  I didn't go to the appointment at all.
The afternoon of Jan 25th (the day I should have been able to see my baby on an ultrasound) I let my pride get me and when C disobeyed I lifted him carried him to his room and disciplined him... I kid you not the bleeding that had all but stopped moments before and even for the last two days immediately started again.  Bright red water filled my toilet.  I was so mad at myself, I apologized for my behavior to my son, to God and to my mother-in-law (who had offered to take C to his room when I had lifted him and should not have).
Sometimes I wonder if my pride was the reason I lost Jaemi, but I'm smarter than to blame myself for this loss.  That evening after P got home and I was getting ready for bed I used the bathroom and again was bleeding very heavily.  I prayed fervently that God would spare my child's life.  I laid a towel down in the bed before laying myself on the pillows....I prayed again, I confessed to P that I had lost control and had lifted C, I told him that I was afraid, I admitted that I didn't feel God's peace over the life growing inside of me any longer, peace yes, but life no.  P listened and held me awhile, and then fell asleep.
Around 12am I woke up feeling odd.  I can't explain my thoughts, my feelings, nothing really, but it was habit by then to go to the bathroom with any odd twinge, just in case.  So I went.... blood, more blood, tears, and prayers, feeling sick, was it the sight of the blood or my body getting desperate for blood and iron?  I passed a clot and previous experience suggested that the bleeding would stop after that.
Approximately 30 minutes later I woke again feeling that same odd sensation that I could not describe.  This time as I walked to the bathroom I felt weak, worn out and beyond tired... but it was past midnight so that was normal right?  No.  Crazy things happen to your thoughts when you faint.  They are not real, you can't base your thoughts in time, or space, you don't know what is real and what is not.  I felt my self slipping, I knew I needed to get closer to the floor, I managed to pull my underwear up and lay down on the bathroom floor trying desperately to stay conscious.  I knocked on the bathroom door (from inside) hoping that my husband would hear me, that he could save me.  All the time I kept thinking that everything that was happening was happening twice... I could almost anticipate it all because I felt like I'd done it once already, but really I was delirious, and didn't know what I was doing at all.
P woke up and came to me, he helped me to get up.  He asked if I needed to go to the emergency room, I knew I couldn't tell him no, I needed help, and I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't accept it.  He helped me get dressed (I was not nearly appropriate to leave my bedroom let alone the house).  He helped me to get to the dinning room, his mother who had been staying with us came and took my blood pressure, she said it was slightly low but not horribly.  He helped me to the car.... I directed him to the hospital... terrified to follow instructions from the ob/gyn in going to a different ER than the one that had previously seen me. 
P ran inside and got a nurse and a wheel chair and helped me into the hospital and then drove the car to the parking garage.  I was almost instantly checked in.  They wheeled me to a room, I was so weak I couldn't do much of anything to help myself, but managed to undress and put their gown on.  They drew my blood, I knew from previous experience that reading numbers helps me to avoid fainting so I insisted that someone give me something with numbers to read... one of the nurses gave me his ID.... I read number after number and the woman drawing my blood began to talk about miscarriage and how it wasn't my fault, and not to blame myself, the amount of blood I'd already lost combined with her words and the fear i have of needles combined and I puked all over the man's ID tag... I apologized as best I could and passed out, but not before telling that woman to shut up. (she later told me she was sorry that she was only trying to help, and thought what she said really was part of what was bothering me I felt I needed to be nice and told her that just the talking, no mater the words was why I yelled at her, that I just needed to concentrate, it was true, but I really had been overwhelmed by her telling me I was miscarrying). 
A short, very short time later an ultrasound tech came to look for my baby.  He used both the regular ultrasound, and the trans-vaginal ultrasound and would not tell me anything, I couldn't see the screen and I knew that even though I wouldn't understand (as the man said i wouldn't) that this wasn't good news.  P left the room after that to go and call his boss... I was alone, and the nurse came back, was putting on her gloves and said something that insinuated that I knew what was happening at this point and had spoken to the doctor, but I had not, she announced to me, alone in that room that I had an ectopic pregnancy and was headed to the operating room.  I was stunned to silence and she realized that I had not talked to the doctor, she just kept talking... I don't recall what she said after that.. I was crying.  P came back and saw me crying, he asked what was wrong but I couldn't answer, it was too hard, I forced that nurse with my silence to say again the words that I hated hearing, that I couldn't admit, that I didn't ever want to hear in the first place... that they were about to murder my baby, so tiny, so helpless, to save my life.  I told myself that I couldn't have any other response, that I HAD to let them do this, or what kind of mother would I be to C and F?  I knew that there was no way an ectopic pregnancy could continue, that eventually the baby would die anyway.  but I really couldn't get passed the fact that I had to let them murder my baby.  I realize that people reading this could have a totally different view, or that they could have the same but want me to feel less guilty and say that I shouldn't think of it that way.... but in the end what really matters is that God took Jaemi, not the doctor.
They preformed my surgery and I saw the operating room, all of it, at least all I could take in, in the few minutes I had to figure out what exactly was happening and how to respond to the nurses and others helping me.  I clearly saw that this was NOT the nightmare that I endured for F's delivery, that I would be safe, and that God was handling me with care.  There was even a paper border around the room, it wasn't a cold place, it was a place that they had tried hard to make less scary for any woman coming there (it was a women's ward in the hospital, only women doctors, only women patients)  The only man I met during the whole thing was the one I'd puked on (or puked on his name tag) and the anesthesiologist.
They helped me to sit up, the last thing I remember was the nurses putting some cuffs on my legs (for circulation) and then telling the anesthesiologist that they were ready.  My next memory was waking up with the doctor standing near me telling me that she had done the surgery but found that I had two perfect falopian tubes, would carry another baby in the future with no problems and that she had not found what they had expected inside me... instead she had performed a D&C.... I was confused, groggy and full of so much grief I didn't know what to say in response. 
Later I would ask many people why... in my own way, and not exactly like that, but I spoke to the chaplain, a music therapist, a social worker, and a spiritual healing specialist (?), the last being very brief since I also had guests in my room.  The doctor (a partner for the one who performed the surgery) came to speak to me and said that she was told I probably had many questions, I did but didn't know any of them... mostly I wanted to know why a D&C was performed.. I was so against them, and all I knew is that the surgeon had seen a little tissue and done what she thought was best.  The doctor then said that after the surgeon had opened my fallopian tube and seen that it was clear I began to bleed very heavily.  Apparently they only thing they could do was to perform the D&C in hopes that the bleeding would stop and I could avoid a blood transfusion later.  She also said that in my bleeding they had found the amniotic sac that would have carried my baby, not connected to anything, just there, in the blood, tiny and clear, nothing in it.... she said that there was no pregnancy terminated, that I had not had any form of abortion, but that my baby was already gone when they did what they could to prevent so much bleeding on my part.
Jaemi was with Jesus.  I imagine my beautiful little brown haired child smiling and loving heaven.  I imagine that some day when I get there I'll be greeted with the sound of Jaemi's voice... I imagine... I pray, and I realize that life, no mater how long is precious, and I hold my kids, my family, my life a little closer.

The Waiting game

***warning the following blog contains some graphic details.***

Putting this all into words is supposed to be therapy for me... I'm not sure how much that is working at the moment, but I'm willing to give it a try.   Last Friday I went to the ER for the second time, almost exactly a week after the first visit when I found out that I was expecting and probably miscarrying our 3rd child.  I'll back up just a little more.
I've had people coming to help me with food and cleaning and stuff as they are able, and one of the sweet people that I had coming was Ami, she is still being a super helpful friend, and to be honest I didn't even know her well before all this, though I wanted to.  Anyway, I got up from my modified bed rest to take my daughter F to bed.  I had to get her a bottle first so I walked from my living room to the dining room before realizing that the previously brown spotting I had been experiencing had turned into a light period like flow and that it wasn't going to stop.  I sat on the floor realizing that once again this could be the end of a life that I had hardly known to expect but cherished already so much.  I had C get me my phone while I coddled F on the floor trying to keep it together but realizing I needed help and very soon, I wouldn't be able to get my kids in bed alone.  P wasn't getting back into town until Wednesday (as I write this I'm looking forward very much to his coming home tomorrow evening.)  I texted Ami, I really couldn't talk to anyone I was sobbing.  I asked if she could come over, she responded quickly and said yes.
When Ami arrived she mothered me, she sat on the floor and swept my hair from my face and gave me a hug, I needed it but it felt odd since I really didn't know her that well... we have become rather close since this... I love her dearly!  She instantly got to work for me once I told her what was happening, and I took myself to the restroom.  She ended up calling her hubby and informing him of the rest of the evenings plans, He would come over once we got my children in bed, and she would come with me to the ER I was too nervous to do it alone.  She helped me to get F dressed and diapered and read a story to her, and put her in bed, then she worked on Caeden while I laid in bed a few more minutes... and made my way to the living room.
Jae, Ami's husband showed up a few minutes later with their daughter to camp out at my house until Ami and I could return from the ER. I'm blessed just thinking of all they did.  Ami informed later that she had just sat down to a margarita with Jae as I texted her... she said it to say she was glad she hadn't drank it already, but I felt like I probably ruined a romantic evening that I know with a 3 year old in the house is a hard thing to accomplish. 
At the ER Ami held my hand as I had my blood drawn, she held my hand when they inserted the IV that I probably didn't need but the Dr wouldn't allow me ANYTHING by mouth so i took the IV feeling a bit dehydrated anyway.  When I had my pelvic exam she stayed just outside the door, making sure no one wandered in at just that moment.  And when they did the ultrasound that again found nothing she stood by.  And when they informed me of my hormone levels and basically ignored me when I tried to tell them that they were the same as Wednesdays (because they didn't have Wednesday's info because it went to my own Dr's office not the ER).  I became antsy, overcome with grief, just KNOWING I'd lost my baby... and that it was all over.  Ami was there, she talked to me, distracted me and held my hand.  When they finally allowed me water and took the IV out of my hand and the nurse came to tell me I was going home and I nearly fainted, it was Ami who adjusted my bed and made the ringing in my ears go away, calmed my nerves and kept me from passing out.  The nurse just took my blood pressure and said it was probably anxiety.. yeah thanks dude!
Since Friday Ami has been here every day, helping with the kids, and cleaning and dinner.  I manage all day until dinner time, but once that time comes I can't give my 3 year old directions to get dinner ready (he gets yogurt and an orange or apple for himself for breakfast, and he gets bread mayo and sandwich meat for lunch and then puts them away for me too) dinner is just too complicated.  Ami takes care of us.  Other people have blessed us too in this ordeal, but none as much as Ami.
Yesterday she showed up at the door with small yellow roses in a green vase.  I saw them and nearly cried.  Partially because I've never gotten get well flowers before, I've gotten birthday flowers, and I've gotten date night flowers, and just because P loves me flowers, but not get well flowers, I don't know why that is a big deal but it is.  The other reason I nearly cried right then was that only an hour before I had passed a blood clot that clearly had tissue in it.  I kept it in a bag wondering if the Doctor's office would request to see it.  They said no, but as gross as it sounds I've kept it in the bag just behind my trashcan by the toilet, because if I get word from the doctor today that my hormone levels have dipped as I believe they would have then I plan to dig a tiny hole and bury my baby, or the only thing I have that could be my baby, I just can't imagine flushing it down the toilet as if it were a dead fish.
So I'm waiting, waiting to hear if the news I believe to be true (that I lost my baby) actually is true... I'm waiting, waiting to have P back home to give me a hug and tell me he loves me, and gently kiss my forehead.  Waiting for God to show me how big he really is and work a few miracles in our housing situation, since P is coming home without having accomplished the goal of getting us a house.  I'm waiting for that peace that passes understanding and the rest that God promises the weary.  I'm waiting on the hand of God to take control of all these things that are so obviously out of my control.  I'm waiting on God.

reflection

I'm sitting in my living room watching Masterpiece theater and thinking of some memories from years and years ago. 
My great grandma Dortha, a wonderful woman!  Every summer my mom would let my sister and I go and spend a week a piece (sometimes I got lucky and go two weeks) with my great grandparents.  We got to sit and read, or play with her very old toys, or we could play solitaire, or learn to sew, and then share the best meals ever cooked, and help out with piddly little chores that my grandmother was getting to old for.  Things like taking out the trash, or cleaning the cat litter, or replacing trash bags... seriously they were the easiest chores ever!
The meals were absolutely wonderful!  Every morning for breakfast there was cornflakes (yeah I know not that special) fried eggs, toast, bacon, cream of wheat, applesauce, apple juice milk, and sugar cookies... can you imagine making all that every morning?  But she did, at least every morning I was there.
for lunch it would be something much lighter, sandwiches probably or soup.  For dinner full meals like Fried chicken and mashed potatoes and corn and you name it... Grandma's fried chicken and gravy were the absolute BEST!  and all day I could freely snack on sugar cookies (grandma's own special ones, they were more like little cookie shaped cakes) and apple juice, since her sugar cookies were not overly sweet the juice and cookie was perfect together.
There was an incredible collection of books, some of which were just school work books from when Great Grandma, or perhaps their son, my grandpa was in school.  But then there were these real gems by Mrs. Southworth!  You can also find her writing under the name E.D.E.N. Southworth.  Every book I've read by her has been incredible and just wraps you in and keeps you there, under mystery and twinges of romance, and old fashioned language and humor.    Treasures really!  My sister and I enjoyed them so much that we looked up the author and found and purchased as many as possible.  I gave my copies to my sister when I thought I'd be moving across country, one day I hope to get them back.
Back to my current story though, while staying at Great Grandma's house I was introduced to masterpiece theaters. Every night my grandma would get out her cards and play solitaire and watch tv.  She almost always ate those nice crunchy cheese curls, and then finished the evening with a bowl of vanilla ice cream...
I remember my summers at Grandma's house so clearly, and loved them so much!  I did learn one very important lesson from those summers though, and that is that when a person wants to give you something you MUST accept.  My grandmother would always pay me for staying with her, but I never understood why since I knew she was living off social security checks and the things that she wanted to pay me for were much easier than the things I did every day at home.  I told her one summer that I really didn't want to accept her money and that i wanted to help her for love, not for money.  A few weeks later my mom informed me (and I cried when I realized it) that I had actually offended my grandmother when I suggested I didn't want her money.  The lesson I learned is that it blesses other people to bless me, or anyone that they choose to bless.  I don't have to feel bad about accepting a gift from someone who wants to give it... and yet this is the same lesson I've been learning my whole life. 
Learning to accept gifts from others, learning to accept help when I need it, Learning to ASK for help when it is needed, learning that I'm someone special only because God has told us that if we bless the last of these we bless him, so if I am 'the least of these' once in awhile then I give someone else the opportunity to serve Jesus!
Right now, I'm on bed rest to try to keep this pregnancy, and I am having to accept help, and ask for help, and organize my help.. giving MANY people the opportunity to serve Jesus by serving me, and it is an incredibly humbling experience.

The greatness of a God with a plan!

After being terrified and uncertain all weekend long God certainly asked me to preform and trust to my greatest ability yesterday!
The day started out with dropping P off at the airport so that he could go and start the process of purchasing a house for us in OK.  That was at 6am, so of course my little sleepers were sound asleep and had to be woken, they handled it like champs, or maybe I'm getting better at this?  Normally waking these two is a bad idea!  We made it to the airport, dropped daddy off and I kept my tears in check... I knew at that point that the day would be emotional.
Then we went home, had breakfast and packed the diaper bag (after getting C and F dressed) and headed to the sitter's house.  She was only available to me between 9:30am and 11am, so I knew I had to make the most of my time.  Headed to the lab to get my blood drawn, had to make a quick stop across the hall and get a sprite because I felt like crap and thought maybe the sugar would make me feel a little less ill.
Then I fought to get someone sweet to draw my blood because I faint and didn't have P with me.  After making someone mad, and probably getting someone else in trouble I had a great lady take care of me!  She talked to me about her daughter and her cousin and anything that kept conversation flowing while she got things ready, and it helped so much, and then she got me talking by asking me a question that required a longer answer, and stuck me while I was talking.  People have told me in the past to talk to them and I've never been able to do it, I forced myself to keep telling the story and when she finished she kept talking and asking me questions.  That is the part I usually faint at.  There was a moment when I thought I was going to lose it, but it passed without episode!  I'm so glad that God worked in my favor and that my complaining about the previous person who drew my blood didn't backfire on me!  I sipped my soda a little more and made it out of the lab without even getting nauseated!
I was told that if by that time I had not heard from my doctor's office I should stop in to hear my results... so I did... and though I had called that morning and they said all they could do was leave a message for Ulga, when I got to the office they said the VERY SAME THING!  I cried, and she put 'urgent' on the note... I didn't really feel like anyone really cared that I was in turmoil trying to figure out whether our baby was still striving... which was SO hard to handle. 
I left to pick up my kids as I was already running a little late, and we all went home for naps, which were very needed.  I should have slept too, but I was to anxious that the doctors office was going to call.  When they didn't I called again, this is my 3rd contact with them, and again they 'put in a note'.  a few hours later as their day was beginning to end and I knew their office would close soon I called again, this time I spoke with the office manager, who didn't like that I had no patience, but also understood my anxiety.  She again said I'd have to wait for Ulga to call me, but she at least said she would 'walk directly to her' and give the message instead of sending one via e-mail. 
Ulga did finally call, and I love the woman but she was confused.. I'm glad I figured out what she was saying instead of listening to her.. she began to tell me that my test results were that my hormone level was at 6,358 (up from 3146 on Thursday) and that it looked like I was indeed miscarrying... I was confused because I was pretty sure an increase like that would NOT mean miscarriage.  I asked her what the date on the test was, as I was thinking it was Friday, and she told me it was from Monday, and then got quiet said to wait a moment, and then said 'no that is from Friday... let me check for today's results and call you back.'  She did call back, at the end of the day, but without results, she said on my voicemail that I must have gone in too late in the afternoon... which is HILARIOUS since I had arrived at 9:45am and managed to get home by 12 noon!  But I don't mind if she wants to think that, it doesn't change the fact that she doesn't have the result yet.  And the lab and the doctor's office both were very busy so I'm ok with just Friday's results for now.... they look THAT promising to me!
Anyway, before hearing anything about my test results P called me and says that weather at his layover location is horrible and because his flight was so delayed he missed his connecting flight and wouldn't be able to get out until the next day 'most likely'.  So then I suggested that he see if he could transfer his ticket to another city and either drive or get a connecting flight from their to where he was trying to get to.  They transferred him just fine, but then I had to call Expedia to get him a connecting flight or a car rental, it ended up being a VERY late night for him, but he did arrive, and though he would have preferred if I had chosen the car over the jet he got over it and arrived just fine and even saved us a little money too. 
P is super stressed about the future, and one of our wonderful friends pointed out to him that God doesn't give us a spirit of fear, but of peace and love and of a sound mind... and I think it helped him!  He called me this morning and told me that.  We still have not talked about the baby since our initial conversation yesterday, but I think he is de-stressing a little.  He truly has so much weight on his shoulders, to provide for us, as we agreed that I would be a stay at home mom.  So he has to get a job, find us a house, and try to take care of all of our financial needs... and medical needs too, since this pregnancy hasn't started out the greatest that is a worry, and my last birth was a c-section so that worries him too, and F has to see a neurologist and if they find out she has what they are suggesting she might then she will need an MRI every year for the rest of her life.... that is a lot of pressure...
BUT... I really think that God has a plan, and I have hope in Him, and in his power, and in Philippians 4:6-9  Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Finally brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy-meditate on these things. The things with you learned and received and heard and saw in my, these do, and the God of peace will be with you.

These are the promises I will stand on!  I love that my God has a plan, and that *I* don't have to make the plan, but just follow the blueprints.

Losing it, again.

These bands probably wont come off until sometime later today.  I'm not in a hospital, I'm at home.  But these bands are among very few items that will help me to remember that life starts and sometimes ends without anyone noticing, and that isn't what I want for any member of my family.  Even if I never hold my baby in my arms, I hold it in my heart, and I will keep these bracelets in a special place, because they represent a life that may not get a chance.
I might cry just writing this entry, so I'm sorry if I give you tears of your own.  The day before yesterday while cooking and cleaning for my beautiful F and Lovey C I started what I assumed to be my period.  I counted the days since my last one, only 14... strange. If you know much about the female reproductive system you will be aware that most women have a 28 day cycle.  Mine is usually 29 but occasionally is more or less than that, so I didn't think about it.  I made a wonderful soup, cheeseburger potato soup, it was super yummy, put F to bed, P put C to bed, which is a pretty normal routine, but I had a killer headache and couldn't seem to focus well.  I had one the night before, and early that morning and was beginning to think I was going to have migranes the rest of my life. 
That evening as I was shutting down the computer and getting ready to go to bed my son C woke up, I felt that familiar little trickle and knew I would need to go to the bathroom very soon, I helped C use the potty, tucked him back into bed and went to my bathroom.  (I'm sorry for the gross details to follow please skip the rest of this and the entire next paragraph if you don't want to know). By the time I arrived in my own bathroom I had not only saturated my pad, but also my underwear and pants, and the contents were running down my legs.  It was disgusting.  I had to wake P who was already sleeping to get me some things.
I changed my clothes and laid down in bed a little concerned about what had just happened and in denial that it would happen again.  I managed to sleep a little until I woke up at midnight feeling odd.  I ran my hand under my bottom (outside of my clothes) to 'check' and my hand was covered in blood.  EWWW... again cleaned myself up and had P get me some things.  The sheet was covered, the mattress pad soaked through, the mattress has a red circle.... After cleaning up I called my doctor and while I waited for a return call I played around on facebook.  The on-call physician called me back, had me check my eyes for anemia, and then said that I was probably ok to wait until morning but that if I needed to call her again to go ahead and do so, but to make an appointment the next morning with my Doctor.  At 1:40am I woke to the same thing again, this time I made it to the bathroom before I was in too much danger, but lost a lot of blood.  The next time was at 2:50am.   Why didn't I just go to the doctor then?  Because I didn't want to wake the kids, didn't know anyone who could take care of them at that time of night and didn't want to wake P, and because I was in denial.
at 7:30am I called and scheduled an appointment, their earliest wasn't until 11am.  I got a babysitter, and tried to eat breakfast, it went down, that is all I'm saying.  I was so weak from all the bleeding that I could hardly walk to the car.  When we arrived at the parking garage I began to bleed again and had to send Patrick to get me a wheelchair because I knew I'd never make it to the office without making a HUGE mess.  I was so weak I couldn't feel stupid in that chair... We got to the dr and I went straight to the bathroom.  We were checked in a while before our appointment even.  I sat shivering on the bed wrapped in my sweater looking very pale.
The nurse practitioner had my blood pressure taken while sitting, then laying, then sitting then standing, my pulse was taken at all these times too.  And then she send me (with a nurse wheeling me over, either so that they could have their wheelchair back, or so that she knew I got in over there) to the ER across the road. 
At the ER they did the blood pressure again, then they drew some blood, and I fainted and apparently convulsed, nurses came from everywhere... I warned them I already felt like fainting and regularly do when having my blood drawn.  They gave me oxygen and checked all my stats again. Then left us for a long time.
The nurse returned to look at my test results, all my levels were normal, but the pregnancy test had not returned yet so she couldn't tell me if I was miscarrying.  Denial runs strong in the little blood I still carried in my body... I just knew I wasn't pregnant.. I mean look at the signs... my last period started on Dec 21st, I have a normal 29 day cycle, the earliest I've ever ovulated is day 13 and that was last month, normally I ovulate on day 20 (I know all this because I had been charting until this last month when I decided that I couldn't handle the stress and gave my birth control up to P and God.).  I was only on day 14 now... so even if I ovulated on day 13 it would be too early to find out anything on a blood test as the baby wouldn't have implanted yet.
The Doctor came in and said "you know you're pregnant right, I mean you had to have known."  No, NO I didn't know... how could I have known, my last cycle was Dec 21st! I'm pregnant?!?  That means I'm probably miscarrying... and he says it like he means congratulations, how is this congratulatory?  You tell me in one sentence congrats you are pregnant, oh by the way, you are not going to be for long... you might have already passed the baby... These are not the doctors words but rather my thoughts.  The doctor was actually very nice. He ordered an ultrasound abdominal and vaginal, I told him that I needed a woman for that, he said it depended on who was on staff, I told him he could find a woman and he smiled and said he'd see what he could do.  A woman came in, did the ultrasound but like all techs do told me absolutely nothing, and left a lot of my questions to be answered by my imagination.  Which didn't help anything really.
The doctor came back... grim prognosis. He informed me that based on the level of HcG in my blood at this point there should be some sort of sac, or even a baby on the ultrasound, but there wasn't, anything, anywhere... even the tech has said she didn't see anything because I told her if she did I wanted to see it.  He also said that my lining looked ok, but a little thin for the level of HcG I had.  He asked if I had seen any type of tissue in the toilet or on my pads, I had not, but I had felt clots or something similar passing and had tried to look, but couldn't see and wasn't about to dig around in my toilet.  He then preformed a full scale investigation of my pelvis.... I cried before he even started... there have now been 3 men to see that area of my body, and I only ever wanted one to... I mean this as an adult, not as a baby have diaper changes. My husband I feel should be the only one, but I had an ultrasound tech when I was pregnant with F that was male, and now this doctor.  He didn't ask me why I was crying, he probably assumed that it was because I was probably loosing my baby.  Really the whole time I wanted to tell him that I wasn't a car, I was a person, and that I wanted a woman!  He said that he needed to remove some clots that were actually holding my cervix open.  I think that may have been the turn around point.  Since that time the bleeding has really tapered off
They sent me home, and asked that I have a follow up with blood work today with my own doctor.  I have scheduled the appointment for 2:45pm.  P has gotten permission to get out of work early for the appointment, and a friend of ours has agreed to take the kids for us. 
In the mean time, I'm praying that God has taken control of my heart, this baby, and our situation.  Yesterday after grieving a little I got on Facebook and saw that Jessica Joy Rees passed away (she is a sweet little girl who was fighting two brain tumors and helping spread the joy to other kids with cancer through a program called joy jars, and through NEGU, which is Never Ever Give Up.... she had such an amazing mission, and is now in heaven, if you feel like checking out her mission please look her up on Facebook), that a friend whose husband had been praying for work finally got an answer to those prayers, and several other things that at the moment I can't remember, but all sad, happy, and mysterious. The fact is, no mater what happens in MY life, the loss of my perfect birth, the loss of my dog, the possible loss of this baby, God is working his will all over the place... so many people following God's will, so many experiencing loss and gain... I'm not the center of it all, and I don't want to be.  I'm not sure how, but that comforts me, that God is still working all over.
No matter how comforted that makes me feel, I still feel that if I really lost this baby I want to make sure that even if I'm the only one who thinks of it, it will be remembered.   I'm trying to think of something to call it, probably not a real name since I don't know what gender it would have been, but something cute, like bean, or sweetpea.... I have not decided yet, and probably wont until after I get the results back from my blood work later today.  Feel free to make suggestions if you have a good one... and please if you are reading this, keep me in your prayers.

by the way, I never intended this blog to be a list of my woes, it was meant to be a life time journey of the battles that I have won... and I guess you have to go through the battle in order to win it, so for now you are seeing the battles.... I'll get to the victory part eventually I promise!