My first 10k

Back in February, I ran my first 10k.  

I was number two. (a last name with the first letters "ab" is hard to beat.)

I ran with a bunch of friends.

Most of which passed me.

So I hung out with my pregnant friend.  I made sure she drank water and took a couple of walking breaks.  Because I'm that awesome of a doula.  (I can see my new advertisement now.  "If you hire me as your doula, I will run a 10k with you and make sure you stay healthy during your run!"  Okay.  Maybe not.)

Said friend tells me that 1/2 marathons are fun.  I blame her for my new training regimen.  (Or, I will blame her when I have to run 8 miles 7 weeks from now and 14 miles on week 15.)  

The pretty cool news.  I came in 16th in my age group, with a time of 1:03. (I was 149 overall, with 210 finishers.  So, solidly in the middle.  Where I like to be.)

right now

I'm in my pajamas.
Its 9:16.  Its a little late for jammies, but I'm calling it a "jammy day", at least for now.
Making small piles for our trip to Michigan.
I'm writing a to-do list on a piece of paper that has a rhino on it holding a balloon.  It adds character.
I'm freaking a little anxious about the timing of my next client's birth. E is going to be going out of town a lot the next few weeks.  You know, during her 38-40 weeks, of course.
Adding "find back up child care" to my rhino list.
Scouring pinterest for ideas for road trips.
Drinking coffee that's a touch too cold.
Wondering if its too late for breakfast.
Maybe I'll just have a brunch.
Listening to Eliza play in her room and talk to her babies via the monitor.
Almost dying from the cute.
Have a heating pad wrapped around my middle.
Certain that sometimes I hate being a woman.
Contemplating an ablation or hysterectomy when we're *sure we're finished having babies (*which is how, by the way?!?)

providential good fortune

I went to a small Christian school for my high school years.  We had this really neat guy for our bible teacher.  He was very thought provoking, to the point where it was sometimes frustrating. (at the time, though, I always thought he was argumentative.  Now, I see he was trying to get us to explore our own belief system and not the belief system of our parents.)

Anyway, one of his big beefs was with the word "luck" and how often we use it.  He preferred  instead, to use the term "providential good fortune!"  Meaning the care of God in your life, resulting in something good. 

At the time, I sort of thought it was silly.   All caught up in semantics.  If what I intend doesn't change with the words I use, what difference does it make? 

This past week, I some how stumbled upon a website called doula match.  Its a website that matches up local doulas with clients.  Its free, though they ask for donations.  I usually am pretty skeptical of things like that.  But this time I thought "meh.  why not?  I doubt I'll get any calls from this, but I'll put it out there."

I had my information on for all of two days before I got my first response.  An email from some one looking for a doula for her hopeful VBAC in June (um, score!  This is totally one of my passions!) With in a few days, I also received a phone call from another woman interested in my services, who was referred to me by Glenni, who runs A Nurturing Moment (a baby/maternity boutique here in town.) and the blog where I posted on MSPI.   The same day, I was contacted by another woman who found me on Doula Match.

This weekend I met with two of the three women, and I felt like we really hit it off.  I'm hoping they thought so, too, and I can get this doula train a going. ;)

 I can see the hand of God guiding me where he wants me to be.  I don't know if I'll be a doula for years and years, but, right now, I am certain this is what I'm supposed to do now.  Its a pretty freeing feeling.  I'd say I was feeling lucky, but I am really feeling providential good fortune. 

"un"

me:

unhealthy (cold, then tummy bug)
unproductive (see above)
unmotivated (ditto)
unathletic (again, with the above. but, possibly not a word. lol)
uninspired
unclean (mainly because of all of vomit in our house right now)
under weight (okay, maybe not under weight.  but, being sick does have SOME advantages.)
unorganized
undereducated
unprepared


but also:

happy
content
blessed

Its amazing how 3 things can outweigh the lengthy "un" list.

"...they're cousins. Identical cousins all the way."

My cousin K and I grew up very close to each other.  My parents said we used to fight like siblings, (and this I actually remember quite well, so it must be true.)  Up until we were teenagers, we also looked very similar.  My dad used to sing us the Patty Duke intro song, Identical Cousins, whenever we'd end up with matching outfits. 

Anywho, while we were on our Michigan trip, my cousin K got to come to my parents house and spend a little time with me (and cut some hair for Zeke and I.)

She's pregnant, too.  With a girl.  Due about 3.5 weeks before me. Neat, huh?

(she was 26.5 weeks here, and I was 23. I also realize that you cannot see my eyes in these pictures because I was a little over enthusiastic about smiling.)

I'll never be the same again

Today was a busy day. A weird day. Full of mixed emotions.

Emotion 1: Elation. As you might have guessed, I had another u/s today. Everything looks wonderful! The baby was actually measuring ahead! (woot woot!) Apparently, my uterus is 4xs the size of a first time mother's at this stage. Dr. H said its due to all of my other pregnancies. No wonder I already feel the need for maternity pants! The heart rate was 158, which is fabulous! The baby has grown a ton since last Monday which impressed the dr. a lot! So much so, that they released me to my OB.

Emotion 2: Leary. I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to my OB. I love her dearly, (even though I'll probably end up switching in the end so I can have a more natural child birth...) but its so nice at the RE's office. Its like a paradise of dr.'s offices. I have never waited more than 5 minutes. Today's wait time was about 2. Its in, out, every one's nice, friendly, and seems to care about you. Its not uncommon to wait an hour, sometimes two, at the OB. But, despite my hesitation, I called. It was quite funny because the scheduling lady asked for my LMP and I told her "I'm under strict advice from Dr. H to just tell you that I am 8 weeks." She laughed and said that was fine- apparently they get that a lot from their office.

Emotion #3: Hurt. Some dear friends of mine (we've been friends since Olivia was about 8 weeks old) took me out for ice cream tonight for my upcoming birthday. I took a double dose of my zofran (ok'd by Dr. H, if you're wondering) and met my friends at Maggie Moo's. One of those friends lost a baby around the same time that I lost mine in October of last year. This particular friend shared that she is pregnant again. Thirteen weeks along. They found out yesterday its a girl.

I have to admit, my first reaction was not joy or elation. It was hurt. Then confusion as to why I was hurt. What do I care anymore? I'm pregnant, I have a beautiful living being in my uterus. Why should it still hurt me to hear of other's pregnancies?

On the way I realized several things. The thing that was bothering me at the moment was that I have lost almost all luxury of "surprising" people. I realize that I publicly share on my blog, (which is something I felt called to share with my in-real-life friends. remember this post?) But, I also shared with a few select friends via phone calls (the friends I went out with tonight). I've shared almost every pregnancy with them because I know that I'm going to 1. share with them if I loose another baby 2.want them to pray for me and 3. get questions about how the cycle is going at the RE's office (really, when friends know you're going to an RE, there's no secrecy!)

When I really reflected on it, I wasn't hurt just because I couldn't surprise people. I realized tonight that, despite being pregnant with a healthy baby, I'll never be the same person I was before all of our losses. I can never enjoy a pregnancy in quite the same way I did before. I can never take for granted that this baby will be born alive and healthy. I can never walk into a doctor appointment with sheer excitement. I will never be able to walk into an OB appointment with out fear in the pit of my stomach.

I will never be the same again.

Just as those babies stretched out my uterus, leaving a permanent physical mark, loosing those precious babies has left a mark on my soul.

As I sat here to type this entry, I was reminded of a song that I used to listen to when I lived at home. It reminds me that change isn't always bad. I'm more mature, more involved in my pregnancies and my chidlren's lives. I've come to realize a lot of new things about God and life in general.

Even though my journey is not over and has been long, and full of hurt and loss, I'm convinced that God will use me. Some day, he'll use my circumstances to touch some one's life.

Lord, whatever you need to do, do in me.


I'll never be the same again
Hillsong

I will never be the same again,
I can never return, I've closed the door.
I will walk apart,
I'll run the race
And I will never be the same again.

Fall like fire,
soak like rain,
Flow like mighty waters,
again and again.
Sweep away the darkness,
burn away the chaff,
And let a flame burn to glorify Your name.

There are higher heights,
there are deeper seas,
Whatever you need to do,
Lord do in me.
The Glory of God fills my life,
And I will never be the same again.

Fall like fire,
soak like rain,
Flow like mighty waters,
again and again.
Sweep away the darkness,
burn away the chaff,
And let a flame burn to glorify Your name.

I will never be the same again,
I can never return,
I've closed the door.
I will walk the path,
I will run the race
And I will never be the same again.

April is hard

Delayed gratification is hard for a 2.5 yr old.

Apparently, a 4 year old has a better grasp. Or at least, is more proud of

the eggs she found versus the consuming desire to eat candy.

_____________________________________

Another reason its hard:

Its a due date month, two times over. My first miscarriage baby, (where I knew I was pregnant,) would be one this month. Miscarriage baby #5 would be due at the end of April.

Its hard to find joy, and hope, when I feel so full of despair. My heart hurts, and my arms ache. my new nanny boy is sweet as pie, but I have a hard time holding him with out thinking of my lost babies.

Progress

We've made a lot of progress around our house the last few days. O has been talking back since we got home from Michigan. Slowly, we seem to be making SOME improvement. Yesterday was awesome! She did a wonderful job at the dentist, even showed an older child how to sit and get her teeth cleaned. She helped with baby S (my new job) a lot. She helped me get diapers, wipes, etc. She and I took a walk with her babies in the double doll stroller and we chatted. It was a good day for her and I. Very little talking back. Progress.

I've been invited to a lot of baby showers in the past 21 months. I haven't gone to a single one. Until last week. A dear friend, who had her own struggle with secondary infertility, had a little impromptu baby shower at Macaroni grill (which, by the way, turned out to be a horrible, horrible experience! Service stunk!) The momma-to-be didn't know it was a baby shower until towards the end of the meal (it was a surprise). So we didn't fully dwell on the baby and all that jazz. There were no "measure the belly" games or "guess what baby food this is" games. There was SOME baby talk, but it certainly didn't center around pregnancy as much as a normal baby shower does. I actually enjoyed myself. Progress.

We've made significant headway on our play set (I say "we" like I've had something to do with it besides encouraging the workers and keeping the children away from the saw). E decided to go ahead and find plans for a play set online, buy the raw lumber, find the parts from various places, and build it from scratch. I have to say, I was hesitant at first. It seemed like a really big undertaking. Seeing as E and ceiling fans have a reputation (another post...another time) I was sure that this building thing would end in swearing and cursing. But, so far so good. Progress.

Wood pile

to this: as of Sunday afternoon (and, it actually looks way different now, even...)

Progress is an amazing thing. It seems like the journey of life, (or the building of a play set) is always so slow. Almost so slow that you can't see if anything is happening for the better. You can't remove yourself and see that things ARE changing. Things are progressing.

Eventually, the kids will be able to play on the play set. Eventually, I'll be able to GO to a REAL baby shower. Eventually, O will learn about the correct way to talk to adults all of the time(we hope!). For now, we rejoice in the journey- the progress of good things in our lives!

The NICU

I've been really struggling the past few days with bitterness. The feeling that life isn't fair and every one's picking on you. It normally accompanies jealousy, too. You know, that nasty feeling that creeps up when someone else gets what you want and you don't?

Anyway, I've been dealing with that stuff lately. Several people on my local mom's board announced their pregnancies yesterday. Probably 5 people. So, a lot. Its so hard to watch people get pregnant so easily (even though I used to be one of "those people") and keep their babies, talk about their pregnancies, listen to them complain about morning sickness...

I'm trying really hard to not let bitterness take over. Its amazing how easy it would be to just give in, though. Going through the "why me's" and "she looks bad pregnant anyway". I'm trying though. I'm praying through it all. Hoping God will just give me peace to deal with life's junk.

In the effort of trying to be thankful for my blessings and to not be bitter, I attempted a visit to friend at the hospital today. First off, on the way to the hospital, E called. He got all huffy because I didn't want to visit *his* friend's wife when she was in the hospital a few weeks ago. (Understandable...except for the fact that his friend's wife gave birth on my due date. It was, honestly, just too hard.) Great. This trip is starting off with a bang!

Back to my friend. It was her fourth child, a boy, and he had to be admitted to the NICU for breathing issues (because, in my opinion, they induced too early...but I won't even get started about that!) While we were standing there, oohing and ahing over baby Grady, we got glimpse of two itsy-bitsy, teeny-tiny, little babies. A proud daddy was bringing visitors, one by one, into show off his newest additions.

Through out the visit, my friend and I were guessing at how long the babies had made it gestationaly. I finally gathered up the courage to ask to take a peek at the baby girl next to us. The father informed me that the twins were 27 weeks when they were born yesterday. He said that the baby I was looking at, Faith, weighed 1lb 4 oz. (They weren't sure how much the baby boy weighed yet, because they had to treat him right away.)

While I'd much rather have a baby, alive, at 27 weeks then my miscarriages, I felt blessed- in that moment. I had two wonderfully healthy pregnancies with O and A. Sure, I had a few problems. But, they were born at full term, healthy, and vital. I was able to hold them and nurse them and keep them by my side from the second I left the hospital. For that, I'm thankful. And not at all bitter.

Maybe that's the key, then. Looking at my blessings, things that I'm grateful for. When I'm looking at my blessings, it doesn't leave much room for thinking about the things you don't have or the things that you wish were different.

.

I'm pretty sure that pregnancy announcements should NOT be allowed.


Or maybe, no announcements that are legible to me. Write it in Chinese, Arabic, or code or something. Or spoken in pig latin.


Wait, no.


Not Ever.


Okay, maybe not ever. Maybe just until I can "announce" mine in another manner that doesn't start with "its probably not going to last, but...."



Until then, no announcements.

The inevitable

Its inevitable that someone close to me (either physical proximity or relationship wise) has to be pregnant and due around the same time as a m/c baby. Always. For my April 08 baby, it was a close friend. For my February 09 baby, its two of my neighbors. For my April baby, its a co-worker. Now, for my October 09 baby, its a long-time family friend.

This, to me, is one of the hardest parts about RPL. Not only do I have to go through my initial pain/loss, I have to watch friends and family get pregnant, stay pregnant, and have a baby at the same time that I should be (All the while, I still can't stay pregnant.) I have to watch on the sidelines, with out a baby to hold- either inside or outside of my womb.


I'm just so confused as to what God's plan is here. I really, really don't "get it". Maybe I'll have this awesome testimony that I can share with others, but right now, I feel hopeless. (I've actually talked to E about selling some of our baby gear. I'm just not confident that we'll have a little one before that stuff is obsolete.) I just wish that God would fill me in a bit. Flip forward in my "book" that is my life to let me know bits and pieces of how it ends. Just to give me something to hold onto.