Two.5

Sometimes you feel overwhelmed. Sometimes you cry and pout. You feel angry and annoyed. You start to worry that you've over stayed your pity welcome. You worry that even the most patient and loving of men might get fed up and throw in the towel, so frustrated by your endless woe, tired of picking your spirit back up again and again.
So you leave your room, you decide not to sleep there, next to him, crying.
You panic.
Realizing that hard times beget hard times. What if you lose more, what if you lose him. So much has been lost. But so much remains that can be lost.

That is when you must change your perspective.

So much remains and hard times beget strong relationships. So much remains that is so worth fighting for.

What is most important, make sure he knows that you realize his loss and sacrifice. That worse then losing a part of yourself is losing any of all of him.

I painted him a picture. Rather I made progress on a painting I'd started for him, then left it out. With a note. I'm sorry and thank you.



Wake up to a warm hug and a forever kiss. A kiss that never wavered.  A kiss that never felt burdened or doubted.

The clouds parted today when my heart went into shock, realized it's fortune and opened my eyes.

I was so grateful for that kiss. For that man, who built me forts and kept being a rock.
A lovely lunch, movies, laughs and a pumpkin vase of flowers followed.

Today my tears were happy.

Two weeks

Two weeks past.
Two weeks gone.

I am doing better, some days at least.
Today I'm ok. A little bitter.
Last night I cried and the husband put Josh's blanket over us and we cried together underneath it.

The world moves on. That might be the hardest part to understand. Some of the world never stopped, some yielded, some paused. Some of the world took a minute and others took a few but they all have to move on.

I am trying. I succeed sometimes now, for brief minutes, to not think about it.

Is it bad that it is still most of my mind.

It is a weight I have to carry, I drag it behind me, or throw it over my shoulder, on my head or in my arms. Never able to fully let it go. Chained as it is to me I don't think I'll ever be free of it. But like everything else, I will adapt and it won't feel so heavy. Every day it'll feel less of a burden. Some day I'll not notice it for an hour, then for two. It'll always be there though. I just have to get stronger through practice.

Josh, Papa and I bought you a book. Robert Munsch's I'll love you forever.

I'll love you forever
I'll like you for always
As long as I'm living
My baby you'll be.

One Week Later

What I learned in the week that followed my miscarriage:

1) Some relationships can grow and become stronger with any trials thrown their way, some can crumble and cannot be blamed for it. It is not easy to deal with loss of any kind, but I think saying goodbye before you ever said hello might be the most difficult type for me. From my view, we are the lucky ones. Our love has not wavered in the slightest. We are, as always, a balance of friends and lovers. This week friends took the back seat and we let our souls do the driving.
My husband is amazing.
He called me a Gryffindor during my contractions but I didn't remember until yesterday. Normally we're both Ravenclaw.
If you get it, you get it.

2) Most people don't know what to say, so after the initial, "I'm so sorry, if you need anything…" you either stop hearing from people or they may at some point put their foot in their mouth. Try to not take it personally. I hardly know what to say. Next time though, start with I'm sorry for your loss, and then compensate for words with food.

3) Natural Miscarriage seems to be relatively undocumented territory, and with the exception of googling forum responses it is really difficult to get information on what to expect. My midwife's nurse prepared me better then most, and was always a text message away with any questions we had. Still I had questions that I wished I could just find a simple answer to. The answer is however, with miscarriage as with birth and pregnancy- rarely simple.

4) Everything about this sucks, but it can suck less if you just let yourself go. Just feel your way through it.

• Don't think you have to put away the baby items the first day. Trust me, you'll just end up taking them back out. It is nice to see them. 
• If you feel like crying don't fight it, just cry. 
• Keep taking your prenatal vitamin, for me it helped keep me feeling better, stronger. Plus it gave me a bit of hope back, like I was helping my body prepare for eventual pregnancy again.
• Take time, from work, from chores. Build a fort in your living room. It would have been easy to stay in bed and cry. My husband wouldn't let me, but he would let me stay on a pillow fort in the living room, sleeping and watching movies, reading and crying. One day he had to make a five hour trip to pick up a car we'd been in the process of buying. I stayed in bed that day. By the time he got home I was so drained from wallowing in my sorrow and not moving all day that it was like I'd regressed from any healing I'd done. Partially it was not having him with me but largely it was allowing myself to stay in a dark room and a dark place. I didn't snuggle my baby's blanket or play with the dog, nothing made me laugh that day while I was alone. I didn't do anything life affirming like take my dog out or water my plants. I haven't done that since. If I am in that bed in my room it is with my husband and we are going to bed.

I don't pretend to be an expert in this. Who would want to be an expert in this. I am not even entertaining the idea that any one will read this but me. This is a list for myself to read. From: a me that is feeling optimistic and sad. To: the me that was hopeless and depressed.

One week ago I lost my baby and thought I was alone, but in truth I've not been alone. I have a ring on my ringer that says I never have to be alone again. And I'm not. I am lucky, very lucky. 

You were lucky too Josh. In the nine weeks you lived you experienced more love then some do in 90 years. As the Doctor says, “Some people live more in 20 years than others do in 80. It’s not the time that matters, it’s the person.”

The Tenth Doctor, The Lazarus Experiment
You didn't get twenty year Josh. But the time you got was wonderful for everyone who got to be there.

Dear Josh

Last night was the hardest night of our lives.

We lost you to the universe Baby B.
And now I'm writing this only for therapeutic purposes.

Three days ago we found out my labs were low for the hormone that helps keep you safe and cozy.

Two nights ago we went to work, cautious and not very hopeful. Seeing some blood on toilet paper caused a pretty massive emotional breakdown.

One day ago we went to get my labs redrawn.

Yesterday it became obvious that we couldn't keep you.

This morning is the first alone I've been in nine weeks and four days.

Everything is a blur. Some things do stand out against the rest.

Your Papa held onto hope a lot longer then I did. He is a rock and we are the ocean that crashed against him. He held us up when we couldn't do it ourselves. Now that we is back to I he is the sand that we rest on, giving only slightly and holding me softly. He is helping me to let you go.

Papa made Mom a fort on the floor, of all the pillows in the house. It is our management of hard times. When your heart is on the floor, he makes that floor soft and cozy and he puts dogs and cats and hot cocoa on it until you can get back up.

We named you Joshua. Papa came up with the name, at first I wasn't sure. Then Papa reminded me of my favorite book and why Joshua was a good name, and I knew that you were our Josh.

I finished your blanket off, tied in all the loose yarn and made a small border. It is only a fourth of the blanket it would have been, but every stitch I crocheted I did with love for you. It is what we will hold when we wish we could have held you.

The most comforting thought about you, my sweet baby Josh, is to know you never knew pain, or cold. You never felt sorrow or fear or jealousy or rage. You never heard a word of judgement or prejudice. You knew only love and warmth. You were held for every second of your life in a womb that was proud to have you. Even as you left us, your Mommy was proud to call you hers.

I am a mother. You did that. And I want to thank you for every second you gave me. Sleep sweet baby Josh and know that you are loved.

Tidbits of life

It has been a while since my last post. Life often gets in the way of goals and intentions.

All of my resources say you are now the size of a pecan or a blueberry. They don't seem to agree with each other always.

Mommy is feeling pretty rough this last two weeks. I am very tired and my legs are cramping like crazy. I've read that this is normal but it is not fun at all. You are worth it all though baby.

All of our family has found out now. I got a call from your Papa and Nana D in Colorado. They are very very incredibly excited. They are going to work with your Aunt Shilo to try to find a way to get Mommy a very important chair for when you arrive. If it works it will be a lovely old rocking chair just for us.

Your Aunts and Uncles are very excited too. They all really wish we would move back to Colorado so they would be able to get to know you better. Though Aunt Kristy lives not far from us in Florida and I think she'd prefer we stay here.

Papa and I went to another soccer game and it turns out you like Cuban food.

Tomorrow Mommy and Papa might get to hear your heart beat for the first time! We have a midwife appointment. As long as we like the main midwife when we meet here we will be going ahead with the first prenatal appointment.


I'll update more soon. Don't you worry though, you are always on my mind and as always right there with me.

Love you baby. Please stay with me. We can't wait to meet you!

A long week

Hello lovely, soft, cuddly baby.

How is belly land? I hope you like it in there. Stay!

It was a very long week baby.

You are the size of a small blueberry. It was that knowledge that helped Papa and I struggle through work this week. Mommy is nauseated, has started crying a lot about the silliest things, and can't watch most commercials on TV without a emotional breakdown.

We've been taking turns reading you articles from our magazines, Papa read you a big long article about the idea that our universe is a holograph of a base universe. We are getting a basic understanding of particle physics and learning about the Higgs Boson and the CERN super collider.

He also has been reading you The Giver by Lois Lowry, it is one of Mommy's top four favorite books of all time. He is planning on reading you all the Harry Potters between twenty weeks and when you are born. Get ready for that!

Mommy has been chugging along on your blanket. Molly keeps laying on it though, so we hope you don't mind cat hair.

Mommy Going to meet the birth team. 

On thursday Papa and I woke up very early and went to meet with a midwife and birth team.


The first person we met was the nurse called Shannon and she practically sold Papa and I on the team as a whole with how warm and comforting and friendly she was. I could easily imagine her helping us welcome you into the world. We met one midwife and a midwife student, they seemed pretty nice. We have yet to meet the other midwife yet, her name is Diane and we are going to schedule an appointment for sometime in the next few weeks. Hopefully we can meet her then. If we like her we are going to choose them as our birth team.

Papa driving to meet the birth team. 

After that we went to a baby store and bought your first outfit and first pair of shoes. Converse, just like the tenth Doctor (you'll learn about Doctor Who later.)

Papa bought Mommy some preggo pops to help her not vomit all the time. He's been very nice about me being such a mess.

He can't wait to teach you to ride.

 The next day Papa and I took a long drive with your sister Bambina to visit a beach. In March, right before you come to meet us, Papa is planning to ride his bike nearly 100 miles from our house to Varn Park beach. We did a practice run of the path he will take. Its going to be a very hard and lovely trip for you daddy. We are very proud of him.

Bambina's first beach

The Atlantic Ocean

She doesn't like sand.

 Love you little one. We can't wait to meet you!

Oh the little things

Hi Baby B, how is life in there? Comfortable? Warm enough? Hope it is good. Stay there for another 36 weeks please. 

New this week; you are a pepper corn, I am nauseated. I am so tired, poor Papa is being very kind. He wakes up and makes me eggs when I finally feel like eating, then puts up with me when two hours later I have to go to sleep again. He gives me little meals and puts up with my mood swings.

We are planning a trip for next week to meet a birth team, they would do a home birth if possible. We're not sure we're going to stick with this one, it's hard to tell until we meet everyone, though I have to say options here are sparse.

We are going to tell your Grandparents about you soon. 

Love you

Mama