Solitary in Sanity

I’m usually not a big cupcake fan (well mostly because of their recent surge in popularity). I really prefer chocolate cake, a chocolate brownie or a chocolate chip cookie. Are you seeing a pattern here? Chocoholic. At any rate, this is just delightful. I couldn’t resist sharing it.

Merry weekend!

via the lovely Brooke at Claremont Road

My one and only meeting with a therapist included a discussion regarding alcoholism in my family. When I told him that my sister did not have a problem with drinking he replied, “So you’re the lucky one.” I laughed because I thought he was being sarcastic. Then he said “One day you’ll realize that.” Even though I had no idea what he meant, it intrigued me. Why was I lucky for having inherited the disease?

Today, when writing to a friend about our struggles with trying to conceive, I thought about what that therapist said. Writing, “Perhaps we are the lucky ones after all.”

Reflecting on this has been what’s getting me through today. Hopefully I can hold onto this…this realization of just how amazing my relationship will be with our eventual baby. Not a single day, a messy-faced kiss or even a poopie diaper will be taken for granted. I imagine cuddly moments wherein I tell my little one how they were a long awaited dream come true.

I dreamt about being a mommy my whole life.  When I met Daddy we learned that we shared the very same dream. Then one day, our little dream came true. That dream was you.

A flirtation with the delightful life has inspired –rubies and love songs, a weekly post that presents something positively uplifting, powerfully felicitous, sugary and sunshine-y, in the hopes of making you smile out loud.

Because I’m going to need a nursery one day, I’m drooling over this one today.

via Bloesum.

because my midday emails express just what i’m feeling, just when i’m feeling it, i’ve pasted one from Tuesday below. today, i got a hair cut, left the house for a meeting with clients and things were much,much better.

Each day things get worse, not better. Like with death they say time heals you…but with this, the longer I go without being pregnant, the worse it gets. I cry at the sight of babies, baby things, pregnant women. I know I will have a baby one day, but that doesn’t help my philosophy of getting through today. It hurts today, I don’t care about tomorrow or 10 months from now.

I’ve been crying every night since Thursday. I comforted myself by saying it was only at night, I just need to keep busy with work, dinner and reading during the day/evening. Well I started crying before and my heart was pounding so much I was afraid of a panic attack. So I laid down and fell asleep.

I’m waking up early, exercising, eating right, keeping busy with work, trying to stay positive. Nothing is helping to ease the sadness.

I’ve run out of tools in the toolbox.

—

I need to get back here.

This post was written for inclusion in the Pregnancy Loss Week Blog Carnival. Please join us at Fertility Flower for the week of August 23-27, 2010 where we will be featuring articles, posts and artwork about pregnancy loss.

What actions did you take to memorialize the lost child/children?

We nicknamed our first baby “Lemon” before we even knew we were pregnant. I wrote Lemon, come to us! on the chalkboard wall in our kitchen. Jim drew a lemon and added eyes and a mouth. We were absolutely ecstatic to find out that Lemon did indeed come to us that month. I discovered we were pregnant on April 24, 2010. As soon as I saw that blue cross appear, I started laughing out loud. I was giddy with joy. As for later on, the truth is, I spent much of my pregnancy totally worried that something would go wrong. At 11 weeks, 1 day, we found out that something had gone terribly wrong for Lemon. He or she just wasn’t prepared for this journey with us.

We allowed ourselves two days to grieve and all in all, recovered from the loss rather quickly. We knew that in order to move on and start trying to conceive again, we would have to adopt a postive outlook and regain hope that we would become parents soon. Though I knew this did not mean that I wouldn’t think about the life we created every day. Moving on and forgetting are not one in the same.

I searched Etsy for something special to commemorate our first baby. I chose a delicate little necklace with a yellow, lemon-shaped crystal. I fell in love with the lemon necklace because it’s such a simple piece – that for me – carries significant meaning. Its top comes to a point and I often find myself shoving my finger down onto it. This hurts for a moment and it sort of pulls me up out of any momentary slump I’m in; mostly because it reminds me of the real pain felt when I looked at an ultrasound screen on June 15th and read “heartrate __”

For a short time, our hearts beat together in the same body. That honor was taken away from me all too quickly. Now this lemon sits just inches away from my heart and helps comfort the aches caused by the longing for an opportunity to nurture a life once again.

is it completely insane that i wrote all of this? i worried from day one. did i know?

This was a rough weekend emotionally. I know I’ll be pregnant again one day, but each day is a constant reminder that I should still be pregnant. I leave the house and it seems like every women is pregnant and every person is toting an infant. We spent a lot of time in my husband’s hometown this weekend. I have this enormous guilt about letting everyone in his family down. And of course I know they don’t feel this way and maybe there is a better term that is escaping me…but they are such an amazing family and they were so overjoyed to learn we were expecting. In their family, it was like we were all pregnant. Jim is the oldest, was the first to marry and we were going to have the first great-grandchild. If I was the bearer of all that joy, then I was the reason it all went away. The reason why talk of babies used to be fun (when are you guys going to have a baby? we could really use a baby around here, you know!) and now it’s awkward and almost forbidden.

On Friday we were out with my inlaws and I turned around to spy the tiniest infant crying hysterically. My eyes welled up with tears. I thought my mother in law witnessed this and then later, while we were standing over her shoulder making fun of the Fingerhut catalogue she was reading, I noticed that she purposely double-turned the page to skip over a two page spread on baby items.

Yeah, 7 months of trying and one miscarriage and already I’m that woman.

no matter how positive i remain and no matter how much faith i put into believing that we will be parents someday soon – there is this pain in my heart that consumes me. we are so ready to dedicate our lives to being parents. to hand over our hearts to the tiny life that we created. to become the selfless individuals we’ve always wanted to be. slaves to diapers and burp cloths, story times and lullabies. i’m tired of free time, the ability to take a bubble bath or stay out late at night. i’ve lived the part of my life that was mine own. if i never again have time to read a grownup book, enjoy a hot cup of tea or a leisurely trip to the mall, i’d be completely satisfied.

——-

I really want to participate in this. I am going to participate in it very soon, and now that I’ve written it here – I must. If you know anyone who has experienced pregnancy loss and would be interested in participating, please pass this along.

A flirtation with the delightful life has inspired –rubies and love songs, a weekly post that presents something positively uplifting, powerfully felicitous, sugary and sunshine-y, in the hopes of making you smile out loud.

I love every single thing about this photo found in dottie angel’s flickr photosteam. From the pretty cupboard to the charming vintage toy and right down to her happy sandals. Me thinks if it’s not too hot tomorrow, I’ll wear my new straight leg Hudsons rolled up quite a bit.

Hope your weekend is beautiful!

This is the amount of things I have to buy in an effort to distract the man behind the counter from noticing the yeast infection medication. Some notes:

I buy CVS brand because when it says “compare to Monistat, First Response etc. I believe them wholeheartedly.

Jim and I really have been talking about getting one of these velcro ball sets for the beach.

CVS brand Animal Crackers are incredible.

I figured I might as well pick up the tests while I’m there.

The fire has been put out…for now. Damn antibiotics.

If you’re a man, I apologize.

It has been a month since we found out we lost our Lemon. Today’s date on my calendar is marked with a 15, how far along I would have been. Luckily, I only marked through July, so I won’t have to look at those numbers next month – especially 20, the halfway point. I cried today for the first time in a while. I know it will happen, I’m just tired of waiting. Unfortunately I am growing increasingly resentful towards complaining mothers, moms-to-be and those who were given a baby they weren’t even planning on. I guess this is something that will only get worse over time. The longer I go un-pregnant, the angrier they will make me. At the same time, I was comforted by this post (via ComaGirl). Looking back on her TTC process, Nichole from In These Small Moments says:

“Looking back, I realize that those months of trying made the joy of having this amazing baby girl even sweeter.

She was worth every single moment of effort and I will be ever grateful for her.  I learned so much about myself, about Craig, and about patience.”

That’s something you can’t get without a whole lot of trying.

Each month, as I wait for my period to skip me, I am bonding with the little life that could be inside of me. We even came up with a funny name for the next one. It’s a cute one, with a sweet story. Hopefully I can share it with you soon.