It made me cry...

I have not regained control of my emotions. I still cry at the drop of a hat. I am hopeful that this emotional roller coaster will end soon. My scars have healed. My life is moving on. Surely my hormones will catch on soon.

Here is what made me cry today: (and it is only noon!)
I saw a photo of a starving child in Africa by accident this morning. I cried.

My friend Anjali wrote about the perfectness (is that a word?) that is her family. It made me cry.

My husband left me a birthday present on the dining room table while he was home for (literally) 9 hours last night. It was not the content, just the thought. I was tearing and couldn't open it.

My husband bought a sitting with photographer for our first set of professional family photos for my birthday. It was the gift, and the thought on that one.

My week old nephew was crying while I was on the phone with my brother. I was smiling and crying.

I sneezed this morning and then gagged. This was a morning routine my entire pregnancy with both kids. I was crying as I mentally reminded my body that I am not actually pregnant.

And I am tired of writing about sadness and loss and this will be final post on this subject. For a while anyway.

My love and I made two important decisions recently.
One:
We will wait until this next time year to put our house on the market and move to Havertown but we will in fact move there before Maya starts school.
Two:
We would like it if I was heavy with our next child by that time.

So A Toast to New Beginnings.

I am 35 today. I like to think that I am starting a new year. Fresh start.

And yet, while writing most of this post?

I was crying.

And I am done.

I'm bringing home my baby bumble bee

I went to the doctor for my post op check up. Everything looks good I am healing and can resume all regular activity.

I got to sneak a look at my file and looking at the surgery pics and reading the report from the lab that dissected my tube was depressing.

d
e
p
r
e
s
s
i
n
g

And then I got a call from my brother and my little nephew has joined us on this side of the velvet belly!

He was born around noon our time and seems happy and healthy. No name yet but no surprise there since Raya went nameless for almost 2 weeks.

And I got to hear him cry.

Do you know that physical reaction you have to all newborns when you are a new mom? I don't mean the breast contraction but the emotional tug? well.

d
e
p
r
e
s
s
i
n
g

And yet so very exciting at the same time!

I am thrilled to be a new aunt and I CANNOT WAIT to meet my new little nephew.

But my ftube-baby was described as a "product of conception" on the test results I saw this morning.

I am having a no good very bad sort of fun all excited kind of day!

No Longer So Cock Sure

So I am truly wondering if this is where the saying came from. I have never given it any thought before.

But I am brooding about breeding.

I feel as though my body betrayed me. I thought we had a pretty good deal and a strong understanding of the way things were supposed to be. This body guided me through two fairly problemless gestation periods.

I had no idea what I was doing but my body seemed to so I didn't worry. I waited each day to learn what it would teach me about being pregnant. It was a patient teacher. Two pregnancies. Two healthy happy children.

The third time was definitely not the charm!

My bubble of reproductive perfection has definitely burst (along with my falopian tube)

...sorry...

So I am cautiously trying to sign a new contract with my body. This time with an understanding that every good contract has a loop hole.

In other news...

I am driving home from work.

My son (almost two!)is ecstatically yelling what sounds kind of like "Super Man" as he fondles his new pj's with said superhero displayed in happy detail.

My daughter is humming a tune that has no rythm and no real words. She begins to "sing" to this tuneless song at first talking about princesses, flowers, things she sees out her window.

Then she adds this line...

la la la "and I am going to get my gun and shoot you dead" la la la la

She continues on about some other insignificant something or other but I stopped hearing her.

Did she just say that?

So I asked her. "What did you just say?" acting cool. No big deal.

And she repeated it. Well she repeated the first part about the gun but she "forgot" what she said after that.

What!?!? Did she just say that?

Again.

Being the cool ultra-hip mom that I always pretend to be, I come up with this fairly calm not-going-to-freak-the-hell-out response.

"Let's not sing songs about guns. m'kay?"

"okay mommy."

um?

So clearly this is a daycare pick up. One of the bad things that she gets from being around a lot of different kiddies with a lot of different backgrounds kind of like the stomach flu. Only not so much.

Which of her friends at school is talking about guns and shooting people?

And where the hell are they hearing it from.

Is this an older sibling thing...?

So I am pretending for the moment that she has no idea what she is saying and won't until somewhere in her early twenties when I finally let her date...

The way to a happy marriage.

Separate bed covers.

I was just reading a blog where another mom was complaining about her husband being a covers hog. My husband and I have had separate comforters since before we were married. We now have a very big bed and we each have our own queen sized comforter but before that they were just full sized.

We still snuggle together while falling asleep but no one (me) wakes up shivering in the middle of he night because "someone who shall remain nameless" (him) has rolled himself up in the covers again.

I suspect this is why we are still so blissfully in love...

Just my bit of advice for a Monday morning.

A conversation about size

"mommy you're fat..."

This from my four year old daughter as she sits on the toilet. I am in the shower and accordingly, I am naked.

"what did you say?" I ask as a stall, I heard her just fine.

"mommy you are fat"

um.

"yes baby, I know I am fat."

pause as she moves on to another topic and I wonder if I handled this right.

So after some thought I add:
"you know Mai it's not a good thing to tell someone they are fat. They might not like it."

This after I envision the many weight check ins she is giving random people at the store.

"but you are fat" is her response.

"yes, I am. And it is okay to talk to mommy about being fat but it's kind of ... bad manners...to tell other people that they are fat."

"oh."

digesting
digesting
digesting

"but you do have a fat belly."

"yep"


I struggle with this. Not my weight. She's right. No struggle there.

But to her pointing out my weight is much like pointing out the color of my hair - just a fact, neither good or bad. It just is and I don't want that to change.

But I know it will. She will become judgmental just as she will become judged.

And one day she will use the word "fat" as a weapon, just as I am sure it will be used against her.

And that is not a prediction of her future weight, just her future girlhood.

Let the healing begin...

I am just a little sore.

I have three holes in my gut and have finally stopped screaming inside my head.

I am starting to heal.

My body realized there was no longer a baby in there some time on Tuesday and so I miscarried whatever was left of anything baby. (moan) But it was good because I was getting worried I might have to have a D&C on top of all the rest.

I have been on a roller coaster.
Part of me has been lost.
Literally.

So Tim and I are talking about the next. Not necessarily the next baby but just what's next.

We were on the fence about a number three and strangely I think that this has pushed us over the edge. Somehow it feels like this means there is meant to be a number 3.

I vacillate between trying to have a non-tubal pregnancy and adopting. A big part of me does not want my biological baby book to end on such a rotten chapter.

Another big part worries that I will have another tubal pregnancy and then no more tubes. And somehow the idea of being "barren" even if I never intend to have another is absolutely horrifying! And then I vow not to let the fear rule me and start all over again.

So. I am somehow still able to be nothing but happy for my (4) friends who have either just given birth or will soon. Babies are wonderful. Welcome Siri and Jaela to the world - you are lucky to have such amazing guides on your journey.

My nephew is due any day now. I am so excited to meet him!

And I bleed in my heart for the little soul I carried for a very brief moment. Not even a child, just a collection of cells.

A tiny little mass of potential...

So I have decided that I am going to get a tattoo. I have always wanted one but never wanted to deal with the pain. I had actually talked to Tim about having one done post mortem so it would visible at my wake (I know morbid, but true).

After this experience, the pain doesn't worry me much.

So the next question is - what should I get?

ectopic pregnancy

Yep. I had an ectopic pregnancy and the fetus ruptured my fallopian tube. Thanks for the sentiments!
Couldn't figure out how to reply to a comment...

Tubes and bladders

So it's a good thing you get two fallopian tubes and two ovaries.
fallopian - I had to look up the spelling.

At around 1pm on Wednesday I started getting really really bad gas pains. I was also bleeding, a little. So I went to the pharmacy and bought GasX and a pregnancy test. Took the pill and the test, it came back positive.

So I hauled my butt over to my gynecologist. Who confirmed that I was pregnant and that my cervix was closed, so I was not in the middle of a miscarriage.
I asked him if I was having an "oh shit I'm pregnant moment" and he said.
"Well you're pregnant, but you shouldn't get too excited about having a baby just yet."

Fast forward several hours and I am at the Springfield hospital emergency room with my husband. An Ultra sound tech and a Ob/Gyn have been called in. I am in such pain child birth seems like a walk in the park. Seriously.

Everyone suspects I have an ectopic pregnancy but can't find any real proof. The Ultrasound tech describes me as "complex" and calls in a doctor in Israel as a consult on my pictures.

I am transferred to Crozer in Chester and scheduled for "exploratory surgery". At the time they weren't sure what was going on but the doctor's idea to wait a few days and see what happens was dismissed by me because I was sure that if I had to deal with that amount of pain again I was pretty sure I would die. Turns out I was right about that, my fallopian tube had ruptured and was bleeding into my belly by that time.

So Crozer Keystone. I wake up after a two hour surgery to be told that my tube had ruptured and had to be removed. There was a lot of reassurance about how I can still get pregnant with just one tube.

This is a moot point since I will never have sex again. Ever.

So I am home with three holes in my belly, one less fallopian tube and a lot of pain.

Oh and a husband who is absolutely phenomenal and seems to be okay with the no sex thing (at least for the moment).

What is going on lately? Never a dull moment.

Oh and TGF Percoset!