Move forward even when you feel like you're standing still

So I've decided I really am the worst at waiting, being patient and basically having no control over anything. This is obviously a problem in general, let alone at our particular stage in life... and yesterday just continued to prove it.

Hermes had two doctor appointments yesterday morning, one to check if chemo was still in his system to see if we could/should even try naturally once my body gets back to normal and the other was his 6 month CT scan to make sure the cancer was still gone. Obviously we were planning on a very fun and exciting Tuesday morning...

Nothing special really occurred during the first appointment and we just needed to wait for the results which we were hoping to get either yesterday or today. The second appointment was where more frustration and aggravation occurred.

As if these days and tests for cancer don't bring enough anxiety and apprehension, the last time Hermes had a CT scan he had a reaction to the contrast he was given and ended up getting two large hives on his face/forehead. He was given Benadryl and lord knows what else and it seemed to work and his hives were gone. Well this morning, being the good patient and doctor that he is, Hermes mentions this to the nurse who was helping with the scan. (As a side note, we were at a new place for the first time for this scan since he switched hospitals and insurance, so he didn't know the people administering it all.) Needless to say, the woman basically panicked and said she didn't know if they would even be able to do the scan that day without giving him a ton of drugs first to ensure an allergic reaction wouldn't happen and he may just have to go to the other hospital to get it done. He explained that he had taken Benadryl beforehand and it really was't a big deal, but she insisted that she needed to follow protocol and speak with the radiologist, figure out what meds he would need to take, etc. etc. Now I understand that none of this was this woman's fault and she was simply doing her job, but this entire process had already taken an hour and a half of just sitting there so we were frustrated..

Long story short, we rescheduled for today, had to go to the pharmacy to get enough drugs to knock out an elephant and giant bottles of liquid contrast (all for two stinking hives) and then went to grab lunch as we were both quite hangry and the appointment that didn't happen managed to somehow take over two hours.

A couple hours later, Hermes receives an email that his results from the first appointment of the day are already ready. We were sitting there and honestly nervous to open the email which we both found odd and amusing. Why were we nervous? The worst was already behind us so this was basically just telling us if IVF was immediate or if we would try naturally before we moved to IVF if necessary. Nonetheless, we were both hesitating to go over these results..

Hermes opens it up and while some parts and statistics were higher than pre-chemo results, the main/important aspect was still below average. The nurse reached out and said that chemo was still definitely affecting him and asked what she could do for us moving forward.

In going over the results, at first we were a little upset, but now we are choosing to look at it positively. The results show progress and that Hermes is getting better and stronger and closer to where he was pre-chemo so we're getting there. We also decided that his results were actually good in that they didn't even give us the option of whether we wanted to try for awhile or just jump into IVF; going straight to IVF seems like the only option.  So after speaking with the nurse some more, we have decided we are going to move forward with the reproductive endocrinologist and start IVF as soon as my body is back to normal and we are able.

Now I'm not naive in thinking that IVF is ideal...it's obviously not. The giant bag of drugs and shots that I will have to administer on myself can be pretty overwhelming and the side effects can be grueling, but I'm honestly so ready that it doesn't even scare me. We've been through cancer and chemo, two years of infertility, multiple tests and ultrasounds, three failed IUI's where the drugs and shots I had to use were anything but fun and the side effects were no joke, as well as magically getting pregnant and then losing our baby, so my thinking is if we can get through all of that, IVF is just one more thing we'll get through and hopefully lead us to our long awaited and prayed for baby.

Honestly, it feels good to at least have an idea of what to expect and what to do in the near future, even if there isn't really anything we can really do right now. So while I do feel like we are simply standing still right now, I also feel like we are doing everything we can to move forward as much as possible and we're getting there....slowly but surely...

Hermes and I also received news a couple days ago that a family friend had been pregnant and unfortunately lost her baby as well.... this honestly broke my heart and made all sorts of emotions flood back... I hate that this is so common and that so many people have to feel how we have felt...I also know that it's probably too soon for her to even think about moving forward from there as I remember where I was right after my surgery and it was not a pleasant place...so I'm going to continue to pray for any and all people affected by infertility and loss and hope that you are able to move forward at some point, even if it feels like you're standing still right now.

Inch by inch, we'll get there...

Seeing pink

Still pretty surreal we found out we lost our baby and I had surgery over two and a half weeks ago....How is it that time seems to go by so quickly but also manages to feel like it's standing still at the same time?...

In these past two and a half weeks we have been waiting for the results telling us what went wrong and what happened to our baby. We have also been waiting to find out if our baby was a boy or girl. When we first found out we had lost our baby, I vehemently told the doctor I did not want to know the sex of our baby...but as time went on I decided I needed to know. Every time I prayed, I wanted to pray specifically for our baby boy or baby girl, I didn't want to keep stating him/her. 

Today was the day we got our results..

My doctor called me and asked how I was doing, then went into the results. It turns out our baby had triploidy...A triploid pregnancy is one where there is an entire extra set of chromosomes. My doctor explained to me that we all have 46 chromosomes and when an egg and sperm meet, they are to come in with 23 chromosomes each to make up the 46 for the baby. In our case, either the sperm or egg (she wasn't sure which one) hadn't broken down properly and came in with 46 chromosomes on its own which gave our baby an entire extra set of chromosomes, making 69 in all instead of the desired 46. This is not sustainable, as we obviously found out...

I asked her if this was "normal" or if she thought this was chemo related? She informed me that this was actually one of the relatively more common causes of miscarriage and she did not seem to think it was chemo caused.

She also told me that the testing showed that our baby had been a little girl...this news honestly took my breath away for a second. I had been feeling like it was a little girl from the day we found out. I can't describe it and don't know why, but I just had that feeling. I realize that there was a 50/50 chance so my "feeling" could have just been luck, but to feel like that and then have it actually confirmed was also surreal. 

So we have the results....where do we go from here? Hermes and I are now in yet another holding pattern...waiting for my body to go back to normal, waiting on getting more tests and results on him to see if chemo is still in his system, waiting to see if we want to try naturally once my body does go back to normal or just dive right into IVF... So many choices and decisions and yet we can't really make any of them for quite some time. We literally have nothing to do but wait right now....and as you all know I am NOT a patient person and feel like we've already been waiting for two years so this just irritates me to no end..

However, I am forcing myself to not be irritated and just focus on the fact that we at least now have answers and are no longer waiting on results. One day at a time...we have these results and will continue to get more, it just takes time. 

Don't you love that saying, it just takes time? I freaking hate that saying.....I hate even more that it's true.. Having said that, I'm going to focus on what I said in the beginning of this post. It's crazy how fast time seems to go, but also feels like it's standing still. So for now, I'm going to focus on the fact that we're one step  closer to getting our baby and I'm going to pray for our little girl and hope she knows how much she's loved and missed...

Hermes' response to being told we would have had a little girl broke my heart, but made me smile at the same time. He simply said "I would have loved to have a little princess..." and then followed it up with "You know how much I love you?" This man is going to be the most amazing father one day and even admitted that this little girl would have had him wrapped around her finger, which we both know is true.

So while we have to wait and time will most likely drag on, I'm going to focus on my husband, my rock, and pray for our baby girl.

Not completely true...I still find myself crying at times,
but I'm looking forward to seeing our baby girl in my dreams tonight

I really am one of the lucky ones

We may not have the traditional love story that movies are made of, and it honestly may not be one
that others dream of having, but after everything, I honestly wouldn't change a thing.
My favorite love story truly is our own and I am definitely one of the lucky ones.

Today I decided I wanted to focus on the man I thank God for everyday and who I will forever try and be deserving of since I somehow became the lucky one he chose. If you're not a fan of a super cornfest, you may want to skip this one as I'm going to probably be the corniest I will ever be. Honest with everything I say, but corny nonetheless.

In a world where cancer is rampant and everyone is affected in one way or another, our story is nothing special. People all around the world have dealt with great pains, losses and unimaginable strifes that no one should have to go through. While we've had our fair share of pains and loss, my husband is thankfully still here and I truly thank God for that every single day.

March 4, 2011- I finally found the man of my dreams. Granted I found him at the age of 24 when he was 25 so the word "finally" is going to sound a little ridiculous to some people. Nonetheless, it felt like I had been waiting a lifetime for Hermes to walk into my life.

I had conversations with friends that I didn't know if my perfect match existed; maybe I was being too picky, maybe I expected too much. I wanted someone who was kind, smart, funny, handsome, challenged me when I was being ridiculous, but also knew when to hold me and let me be when needed.

I wanted the impossible. And then...... the impossible showed up.

It was almost inevitable how quickly we fell in love. He truly does complete me (damn you Jerry Maguire)... He makes me laugh, makes me feel intelligent (not just smart, but actually thought provoking), thinks I'm funny (actually laughs with me, not always at me), he makes me feel beautiful all the time (even with no makeup, no shower, no cute clothes), he challenges me to be a better person, a better daughter, sister, friend, soul mate. Our relationship is easy. We are always on the same page, can read each other's thoughts, can tease one another and just sit together without having to say a word. On the rare occasion we actually do bicker,  our anger never lasts much longer than an hour and we are both so quick to admit we're wrong and apologize and we instantly go back to laughing about something else (chimichanga babe).

I naively thought that finding the perfect man who made me whole in every way was going to be the real challenge in life; little did I know that finding him would turn out to be the easy part.

Fast forward to May 15, 2013, three weeks before our wedding. Hermes hadn't been feeling well and had a swollen lymph node that wouldn't go away for two months. He had a couple biopsies and on this day, we received the news we'd never expected; my now 27 year old soon to be husband had cancer.

Hermes was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Now this type of cancer has a great survival rate and even a great cure rate so it sounds like it might not be that bad, but Hermes was diagnosed Stage III and that scared the crap out of me.

Stage III Hodgkin's Lymphoma meant that Hermes would need to endure 6 months of chemotherapy and would start the week after our wedding; not exactly the honeymoon period everyone dreams about.

After the first two treatments, I could see my new husband was getting sicker and sicker and was starting to dread chemo days. In an effort to make him hate these days less, I decided I wanted to do a chemo present box. I started buying little secret random gifts that I thought might make him feel better and give him something to look forward to at the end of treatment days. I gathered golf balls, golf shirts, pajama pants (the man has the longest freaking legs in the world and all of his pants manage to be 6 inches too short), board games (anyone who knows my husband knows he is obsessed with games and game night), surprise tickets to the ACC football championship where his beloved Duke Blue Devils were playing and more. For his third treatment, I handed him a card stating that I was so proud of him and knew he would get through this. The card went on to say that in order to give him something to look forward to on these dreaded days, he would get to go home and choose a wrapped gift from the giant box in our dining room after each treatment. While it wasn't much, it seemed to make him feel a little better and even made him smile (although I have to admit that the pajama pants I got still managed to make him look prepared for a flood...I digress...)

For those who have gone through chemo before, I have so much admiration for you. I knew that chemo was poison and that it was going to kill off good cells just as much as the bad ones, but I wasn't fully prepared for how it would truly affect Hermes. His skin color changed and became paler and gray, his hair and eyebrows started to fall out, his eyes didn't shine as bright, there were times he felt so weak I would have to help him off the couch just so he could use the restroom, and more. Yet through it all, my unbelievably strong new groom never complained, truly not once. He pushed through it all and even worked full time with a resident schedule caring for his own patients more than himself. Truly, through 6 months of chemo, my hero of a husband only missed around 5 days of work. Who does that??

There are no words to describe how proud I am of him or how much I admire him and what he's gone through and accomplished. He finished his last chemo treatment the week before Thanksgiving 2013 and was pronounced cancer free the week before Christmas 2013. There really is no greater present.

Months later, as if we needed a reminder to always be grateful, Hermes came home and just didn't seem quite like himself. I asked him what was wrong and he didn't want to tell me. I kept pressing and he finally told me that a 32 year old patient of his had been diagnosed with Stage IV Hodgkin's Lymphoma. This man had gone through the same 6 months of chemo that Hermes had and it didn't work. He then had to go through another 6 months of a different type of chemo and that hadn't worked either. They did one last ditch effort of a different type of medication and unfortunately, his patient was gone... As Hermes is telling me this, I can feel the tears burning in my eyes and I look up at him and see the same. We talked about how sad we were for this patient's family and how selfishly, we knew that that could have been him...That realization hit like a load of bricks and has stuck with me. I know I could have lost the love of my life and the pain that that knowledge brings is suffocating. No matter the diagnosis, no matter the odds and statistics, there is always a chance it can go the other way. We need to always remember that and be thankful for the time we have and to use it wisely.

Hermes and I haven't had the easiest road to travel down thus far in our lives together, but I truly believe that I have had the best travel partner. We always say that nothing with us and our lives comes easy except us...And honestly, in today's world of cheating and violence, illness and divorce, we know we have something truly special. We also always say that out of anything that could come easy to people, we could not imagine anything better coming easy to us than our relationship. We really feel that we have something rare in this world that not everyone is lucky enough to find. Knowing that has gotten us through all of the trials and tribulations we've had to face thus far and we know it will help us continue to face any and all obstacles that stand in our way.

I wanted to end this post with a picture of my husband, my hero. I have a million to choose from and even thought of sharing some chemo photos or post chemo photos, but instead I'll leave it with this. This is the first photo Hermes and I ever took together. This was so early on in us dating, long before engagement, marriage, cancer, infertility, and miscarriage. This photo was back when our biggest problems and complaints were law school and med school exams or who's house we were going to play beer pong in that evening (obviously "the cabin").

I chose this photo because I love the excitement in my husband's eyes. This is the same excitement I saw the night of our wedding and then again the night I told him we were pregnant. I know I'll get to see that excitement again someday when we get pregnant again, and again when our miracle baby is born.

I love you babe, more than words can say. You are by far the best thing that has ever happened to me so thank you for being you and for always letting me be me.

My strong, resilient handsome man

Surreal statistics-let's start talking

They say up to 1 in 4 pregnancies will end in a miscarriage...1 in 4! How is that possible?? That seems insanely high and there is no way....Except I know enough women to know that that statistic could actually be true...

It wasn't until I voiced it out loud to my sister in law that I realized I truly recently experienced the loneliest, most surreal and most isolated moment of my life..

Driving to the hospital for the procedure a week ago today, I had my mom and my dad with me in the car. (As I mentioned in a previous post, Hermes had to work so he was already at the hospital and would be meeting us there.) Walking into the hospital and checking in, my parents never left my side. Getting onto the fourth floor Women's Center where they bring babies into the world and parents get to say hi and hold their little ones for the first time, a nurse met me where I would say good bye to my baby one last time..

As I was waiting on my husband to come and I hugged my parents good bye outside of the waiting room, I started to feel like there was no way that this could be my life. I followed the nurse to the "restricted section" and down a hall where loud voices were coming out behind curtained rooms. She of course continued to lead me down what felt like a dramatically long hallway to the empty curtained room at the very end of the hall. It was there that she showed me three plastic bags; one for my clothes, one for my shoes and one for my jewelry. She told me she was so sorry I had to be here, handed me a patient gown, told me to call her when ready, then left the room and closed my curtain.

This was where the moment occurred..standing in this tiny curtained room all by myself, loud voices filling the space around me. No Hermes, no parents, no doctors, no nurses, just me...expected to undress and put my belongings in tiny plastic baggies so that I could begin the process of removing my baby...

I knew this moment was coming. I had tried to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for what I would have to do, but I'm not sure anyone can ever be fully prepared. Even when in an empty room, I hadn't been alone for the past 10 weeks as my Lil Bean had been with me..and now I knew that was no longer the case...My baby was gone and it was their job to remove the rest..

It sounds so crass when put that way, but if I'm being honest, I have never felt so heartbroken, so alone or so defeated. Sure I tried to put on a brave face for the nurses when they came back in, for my doctor when she appeared and for my husband who was walked back while they were prepping me for surgery...but inside I was screaming. Why was this happening?! Why was yet another thing going completely opposite as planned in our lives?! When were we going to get to experience anything the easy way?! Our first year of marriage wasn't easy because we were dealing with cancer and chemo; starting our family wasn't easy as we had to struggle through infertility and drugs and treatments; pregnancy wasn't easy as we couldn't even make it past the first trimester...Looking back I don't think I was even feeling sorry for myself. I think I was simply in shock and disbelief that this was my life and other than Hermes, it was not at all how I had pictured..

Now what's crazy about statistics is that they say 1 in 4 women will go through what I went through and with those odds, there's no way I can be alone in how I felt. In fact, I know I'm not alone in my thoughts and heartbreak or how I felt in that little room. In writing this blog, I have had more women than I could have ever imagined reach out to me and share their own stories of waiting, heartache and loss. I have been so touched by the stories, prayers, kind words, advice and strength that these many women have shown me and I am shocked by how quiet these topics are kept in society. Infertility and miscarriage are way more common than anyone wants to believe, yet people aren't comfortable with talking about it except in small circles and behind closed doors. Why? Do we feel like failures when we can't get pregnant on our own because society has instilled the mentality that this should be an easy thing that women were built for? Do we feel like no one else has any idea what we're feeling or going through so it's better to just keep it to ourselves? Do we feel like we're seen as weak if we actually talk about it out loud instead of acting strong while internalizing the constant stress and pressure and pain? Do we feel like people who don't understand will judge us for wanting to be open about our struggles? Whatever the reason, it's total crap and we need to feel free to start talking if that's what we want.

I realize that not everyone is as outspoken and open as me (probably a good thing), and I also realize that for some, this pain is very private and they don't want to share which is completely okay and 100% their choice. But I also realize that while our story is heartbreaking to us, it may not be considered all that special, is not all that uncommon and a lot of people I know do want to talk about it and talk about their own stories. So having said that, to anyone who is reading, please feel free to start talking and share. These are devastating issues that far too many men and women are dealing with and pushing through and they don't need to be going at it alone. Even if you don't feel you can or want to have an open discussion about these issues, but want a specific thing talked about or mentioned, please let me know. I have already received comments and stories from women asking me to talk about different things they've experienced and I plan to discuss in future posts so please feel free to message me and do the same.

While I really didn't expect people to continue to follow my posts and read my ramblings, I have received comments and encouragements that you are reading and that is appreciated more than you know. I will continue to write because it makes me feel better and I've been told that it has actually helped some others as well. I also want to write about anything any of you still reading want to discuss. I would love nothing more than to help anyone else going through these struggles in anyway that I can.

So for those of you who are reading, I'll leave you with something that has helped me each day that I read it and I hope it helps whoever else needs it as well.

Lauren and the technicolor dream dress (Amanda, this is for you)

So it's been a couple days. I figured I'd give y'all a break from me for awhile in case you really do want to keep reading. (Yes, this Ohio girl just said y'all trying to embrace her southern home.)

I was sitting here this morning, sipping on my cup of coffee in my DZ mug from college, thinking about how so many of my college friends, let alone childhood friends, law school friends, residency friends, family friends, family, etc. have reached out to show us their love and support. People I haven't spoken with in years have reached out to let us know they are thinking and praying for us and all of your messages and comments have meant the world.

So many of you have said that we are so strong and brave for sharing our story, and I want to be able to say that I feel that way, but there are days where those words and feelings seem so far out of our grasp and I feel weak and whiny (two feelings I absolutely despise...).

The night of the Republican debate, Hermes and I were sitting on the couch watching it after dinner. We're relaxing with the dog when Hermes looks between Ashes and me and says, "I love my babies". This is something he has sweetly said regularly since we've been together; to me and our fur baby. It's also something where the last few times he has said it, he included our Lil Bean...He would smile at me and say, "I love my babies" all the while holding me, rubbing my belly and petting the dog at the same time...

This was the first time he had said it since our loss and his words literally just seemed to hang in the air... For a second I couldn't breathe...And then I just started to silently cry. Up until that point, I had been so proud of myself that I had only cried once that day and now I was back to sobbing like a baby into my husband's shoulder.

I know that this is going to hurt for a long time, but I keep reminding myself that at least I have the most amazing friends and family as well as this sweet amazing man and I thank God for you all and for my wonderful husband every day. You all and especially Hermes are the ones getting me through this and I only pray I'm half as good a friend, sister, daughter, wife, etc as you all are for me...Looking back, I know I need to allow myself to cry when needed and let the tears fall, but I was never much of a cryer until the past couple of years and it still takes some getting used to.

While I have realized I need to allow myself to cry, I think I've more importantly learned that I need to allow myself to laugh. There have been a few times this week where I have laughed and let myself get carried away or think about something else and I've then found myself feeling guilty. This can't be healthy. I think it's healthy to laugh, and smile and allow yourself to be distracted by the fun things in life. In my mind, I need to allow myself to find happiness in the midst of strife and family and friends are allowing me to do that.

Just last night, I was feeling relatively relaxed after a glass of wine....okay, okay, it was half a bottle...and I was on the phone with my sister in law. She and I were laughing about one thing or another and had just hung up. I then reached for my glass and managed to spill some red wine all over my very white shirt and soft white pillow. Hermes of course laughs at me as I jump up and run to our laundry room looking for stain remover. I find the bottle in the cupboard...empty...and beg him to run upstairs and get me bleach. When he comes downstairs, I am embarrassed to say that I am standing there in less than attractive pajama pants, hair pulled in a frizzy pony tail, in a simple, old bra, in god awful fluorescent lighting...you can imagine how appealing that sight was; yet, my sweet husband looks at me and in all honesty and sincerity actually states "you look really good right now..." while he smiles that devious smile wives (or at least this wife) generally love to see. In this particular moment, I simply burst out laughing. I had so many thoughts running through my head:

1) I am a hot mess and can't believe I spilled wine all over myself;
2) Please dear lord let the bleach work, I really like that simple white shirt;
3) I feel frumpy and sloppy and gross and my husband still genuinely finds me attractive;
4) How did I get so lucky with this most miraculous man?;
5) How fitting that Amanda and I were just discussing myself with a technicolor dream dress (long story) and I managed to make my own multi-colored clothes..;
      and lastly....
6) I'm really mad I just wasted some of that delicious wine by spilling it...

It was only after I sat back down and Hermes had gone to bed that I truly allowed myself to think "I would give anything to not be drinking wine right now and still have my sweet baby growing inside me." And then the guilt sat in...

Why do we do that to ourselves?? Why do we take away the small pleasures from ourselves in moments of pain? Well I've decided no more. I wore my angel wings necklace with my baby's March birthstone today and found myself constantly reaching towards it and rubbing it throughout the day. I've decided that every time I do that I'm going to smile. I'm going to smile at the thought of our sweet angel safe and happy up above and going to smile at the thought that I was lucky enough to be that angel baby's mama, even if only for a short time.

So after reflecting with my coffee this morning, I felt like I needed to pray and decided I wanted to look at all of the pictures we had received during the ultrasounds in the short time we had our little one...I always have a candle lit when home and it seems to calm me down and bring me peace so I laid the pictures beside it. I'm choosing to look at this photo as one of remembrance, but also one of hope. I have hope that we will one day have more pictures of another baby who continues to grow healthy and strong and I believe that we will.

I'll end this post with a smile on my face and with another message to our little one. We love you and miss you and will see you again.

No Pity Parties, Push On

As I'm sure you could tell and as I've been told, there was a huge difference between my first post and second. I woke up on Tuesday still in shock and in a state of disbelief, but trying to hold it together. I woke up on Wednesday pissed off at the world, wanting to punch something and felt like a bitter Betty. I woke up this morning exhausted after having been with the fire department until 1:30 in the morning. Now I know that many women have a "thing" for firemen (especially my cousin, Colby) and while I often share that sentiment, I don't know if I'm a huge fan when it's past my bedtime, I'm feeling crampy and disgusting, have the day's smudged mascara still all over my face and two out of the three firemen are shorter than me and looked like they were twelve...

Needless to say, three firefighters at my home with their loud, large truck waking our neighbors at 1:30 a.m. was less than ideal, however we did appreciate that they came and how sweet they were. Long story short, one of our smoke/carbon monoxide detectors had been beeping on and off for the past 2 hours and we couldn't figure out why. Then, a little before 1:30, every single stinking detector decided to let out the most loud, obnoxious, continuous beep and wouldn't stop for 5-10 minutes. Now normally Hermes and I would probably say screw it, hit the damn things with a broom stick to make them all stop and go back to bed, but then....Google got involved. I wasn't feeling well, was feeling semi-nauseous, a little dizzy and just overall pretty crappy. According to Google, carbon monoxide poisoning can make you feel all of those things, then make you feel strong fatigue, force you to fall asleep and then you die, nice huh? (We know, we know, we were being drama queens, but it's been a long couple days, we both haven't been sleeping, we were exhausted and we didn't know if I just wasn't feeling well from the surgery or if it was carbon monoxide...sue us.) So we call 911 as Google told us to do, tell them our situation and they send the very nice firemen to our door. As I'm sure you can guess, they didn't find any smoke, didn't find any carbon monoxide and decided we must have had some sort of power outage that caused a short circuit problem and made the detectors attack...well that's great. Hermes says better safe than sorry, I say I feel stupid...

Oh well...like I said I woke up this morning exhausted and still feeling pretty heartbroken, but somehow a little better (maybe the firemen did help?..). Truth be told, I'm starting to feel a little bipolar with all these mood swings and I think my husband is worried about which wife he's going to get which day (sorry babe, I'll try to be more Kate Middleman and less angry elf...key word "try").

Thankfully, no matter how I'm feeling or behaving, I have the most wonderful friends and family who have been there for us through it all. My parents, who live an hour away, were on our front doorstep within 50 minutes of hearing from us that we had lost our baby and came back again the next day to take me to and from the hospital while my poor husband had to care for his own patients. (Luckily he works in the same hospital and was able to be with me while they prepped me for surgery and was with me after I came to.) My parents then spent the rest of the day with me until Hermes was able to come home. They let me be alone when I needed space, hugged me when I felt like breaking down and just sat by me when needed. 

Yesterday, my fantastic sister in law spent the entire day with me. We cried when we needed to cry, she made me smile and laugh throughout the day, (plied me with wine, thank you God) and when I told her I wanted a break from being myself and needed a change, she cut and colored my hair. 

I'm not much of a selfie person, but figured my new hair deserved a new attitude so here it is. (It's definitely darker and shorter, but you can't see the gorgeous caramel highlights she strategically placed in amazing spots.)

                                              My sweet girl always manages to make me feel better 

On a completely different note, for some reason my body feels like it needs to constantly remind me what I've gone through this week. I'll spare you the gory details, but girls who have gone through this before...I had no idea what you had to deal with and you're all freaking super heroes...

Now I still find myself crying at random times and still can't fully believe we're having to go through this, but I'm refusing to throw a pity party. I can see how beyond fortunate I am. I know I'm a broken record, but I truly have the most amazing family, such sweet and caring friends, the most patient and wonderful husband any woman could wish for, the sweetest fur baby in the world and of course I can't forget, firemen. I couldn't throw a pity party even if I wanted to. 

I will be honest though; while I have new hair and I'm trying to have a new attitude, there isn't one second I don't think of our little one...but I'm trying to think of Lil Bean with a smile. At least I know we can get pregnant now, something I have been so scared we would never be able to do for the past two years. At least I know that when we are blessed with a little one, he/she will be born into the best family imaginable and he/she will have the best dad any child could have. So while I know it's going to hurt for a long time and most likely forever, you have to count your blessings and push on.

Thanks for reading :) 

As my Uncle Fred would say, "Tough T*tties"

First and foremost, I am humbled and in awe of how much support Hermes and I have already received since posting my blog yesterday. We are so fortunate and so loved and truly have the most amazing friends and family for who we are forever grateful. So many of you reached out by text, email, comments on my post or private messages and I am forever touched. I knew that a lot of people had been through miscarriages and loss themselves, but so many of you reached out and shared your own stories with me that I was completely unaware of. Your willingness to share and tell me of your own private grieving makes me feel like publicly broadcasting our own really was the right thing to do. I know that many disagree with my choice to be so open about an issue that is notoriously so private, but that's why I felt like I needed to do it. This experience is already so painful and so difficult, why would you want to add to it by going through it alone? So thank you dear friends and family, you give me strength when I don't always feel like I have any.

                                                           Gorgeous flowers, wine and heartfelt cards from some of the best 
                                                                                                    friends and family anyone could have

Okay....now comes the angry portion of today's program befitting the title so if swearing, inappropriate comments/phrases and pure raw emotion bother you, it is time to stop reading.

I tried so hard yesterday to stay strong, be accepting and just hang in there, but after praying all night, waking up in physical and obviously emotional pain and continuing to dwell, I am beyond pissed off. I am so f*cking angry that I can't breathe.

As I said yesterday, Hermes and I have been dealing with infertility for two years. We've gone through different drugs, different treatments, different facilities, doctors and nurses (which I will go into in a future post once I stop wanting to punch things) and nothing worked. When I saw the lines staring up at me from a random pregnancy test I took the month before IVF, I was in shock. I instantly reached out to the RE (reproductive endocrinologist) that we were seeing and asked for a blood test. We found out we were pregnant at 3 weeks, 6 days.. In a way, finding out so early was a huge blessing. In another, it meant worrying for that much longer.

Since we were going through fertility treatments and seeing a specialist, this pregnancy was considered a spontaneous pregnancy and I was seen as high risk. There was a chance that the chemotherapy my husband had to endure to save his life was still in his system and could cause issues. The chemo is actually the reason we had to go through fertility treatments in the first place as it caused sterility which we were told may or may not come back (now you see why we were so freaking surprised that we had even gotten pregnant naturally in the first place!)

Being considered high risk, I was being monitored closely by the RE and had our first ultrasound at 6 weeks. It was too early to see a heartbeat, but we saw the yolk sac and she said everything looked good, come back in 2 weeks.

The next ultrasound was when I was 7 weeks, 6 days. We were beyond thrilled to see a flicker on that screen and then hear the heartbeat. (I know it's cliche to say that it was music to my ears, but it was truly the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.) The RE told us the heart rate was at 133 (in the acceptable range), but our numbers were off. While I was technically 7 week, 6 days, it looked like I was more like 7 weeks, 2 days and baby was only measuring 6 weeks, 5 days. This was all so confusing and too many numbers for me to keep track, but one thing was for sure, the RE was nervous. Our doctor is one of the best of the best, but she has one shitty ass poker face...

At this point I of course started crying and hyperventilating and squeezing the crap out of my husband's poor hand. Our doctor told us we needed to come back within a week to make sure our Lil Bean was growing as he/she should be. Thus began the longest week of my life..

I won't bore you with all of the tears, fears, doubt, anger, confusion, etc. that we dealt with that week and will just fast forward to the next appointment. We went back in when I was supposedly 8 weeks, 6 days and we could barely breathe. Our doctor begins and we see and hear the heartbeat, this time it's rate was at 173! We were thrilled! That seemed like an amazing sign and we were overjoyed. Then she moved on to measure the baby and I'm squeezing Hermes' poor hand so hard it's practically blue...She measures our Lil Bean and magically the baby is back to measuring 8 weeks 2 days; he/she had grown over a week and a half in size in one week's time! She smiled at us and said she felt so much better and that she was actually going to release us to our normal OB and go from there. Words can't describe the relief we felt and we couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day; our Lil Bean was safe and happy and thriving. We were finally getting the family we had been dreaming about and yearning for for years.

You unfortunately know the rest...our first appointment with our regular OB one week later showed no heartbeat and our Lil Bean was somehow gone... We still can't wrap our heads around how we went from a 173 heartbeat to nothing...or how we were so worried the week before and got amazing news and then naively went into this appointment pretty confidently, only to get shot down like a stupid duck...

The tech who did the ultrasound went and got our doctor who said she was so sorry and asked if we wanted to see our baby again. I said yes....I needed to say good bye...

Lying on that table...looking at the monitor and just staring at my baby....I started to cry. I couldn't say anything...I couldn't look away....all I kept saying silently to myself while staring at my sweet Lil Bean was "I love you...I love you...I love you..." How can you love someone so much that you've never met...never kissed...never held...

Thinking back now, I am beyond f*cking angry and just have burning tears rolling down my face and all I want to do is scream.

Hermes and I are now waiting on the results from the genetic testing that is being done on our sweet baby...we are hoping to find out if this was just a spontaneous miscarriage or if chemo really caused it...This will help us decide if we're going to continue trying naturally or if IVF really is the next step...I originally told our doctor that I didn't want to know if Lil Bean was a boy or a girl...I thought it would make it too difficult and wasn't sure I could handle it. But after praying so long and hard last night, I'm starting to change my mind. I begged God to hold my sweet baby and be with him/her and keep him/her safe..I said "him/her" so many times it started to make me crazy and I got pissed off all over again. I love my sweet baby so much and don't even know if Lil Bean was a boy or a girl...and now I feel like I need to know. I'm not naive in thinking it will make this any easier, and it honestly might make it worse, but when I pray for my sweet little one...I need to be able to ask God to take care of my sweet boy or girl...

If you've actually made it this far and read my ridiculous ramblings, you're probably wondering what the hell the title I've chosen is and what the hell was I thinking? My Uncle Fred shared a saying with Hermes and I recently that has stuck with us and brought a smile to our face. Whenever you do or say something that someone doesn't like or anything of the sort, tell them "tough t*tties!" I'm choosing to use this term in a different way. When I'm feeling sorry for myself, I'll need to repeat this and say "Tough t*tties. Bad things happen all the time to many people. Deal with it." But I'm also going to say "Tough t*tties, I'm allowed to wallow in my pain and grief right now and if someone doesn't like it, tough t*tties." This may not make sense to you and I probably seem like a loon, but I'm going to do whatever I have to do to get through this and this saying is what I've been thinking about this morning.

I'm sorry for the book..I really didn't set out to write such a long post that should have probably been broken up in multiple posts, but once I started I couldn't seem to stop. I will end with a message to our sweet sweet baby who is forever missed as well as dedicate this to anyone who has had to go through this before...

Thanks for listening..

It feels like some days the hits keep on coming, but guess what? I hit back.

I want to start off by saying that I don’t want pity and I definitely don’t constantly feel sorry for myself, although some days are harder than others. I know that there are millions of people out there going through difficult times and I promise you, I count my blessings daily. I know how fortunate I am to have the most wonderful and supportive family and friends, as well as the one person who can truly get me through it all, my husband Hermes. He is going through the same issues as me and yet is always my rock and never waivers. He supports me, comforts me and more importantly, gives me hope. He gives me hope that we will get through all of this and come out even stronger on the other side. For all of that and through all of this, he is my greatest blessing.

Having said all of that, you would think that with everything we’ve already gone through I’d be used to surprises and be prepared for anything…however I am constantly reminded that that is not the case.

I never really thought I’d be in this position… Being a 28 year old wife to a 29 year old cancer survivor, dealing with infertility for two years due to that cancer when you’ve wanted to be a mom your entire life, then to actually know and feel you’re magically pregnant the month before you are going to start IVF? To see the baby grow on screen over the weeks and actually see and hear the heartbeat get stronger? To attending your 10 week appointment when you’re so close to being “in the clear” and then not seeing that tiny flicker on the screen…to knowing deep down in your soul that there isn’t a heartbeat anymore even before the tech confirms it…

Cancer….infertility…miscarriage…three words I never imagined would be a part of our lives, let alone an all consuming part within our first two years of marriage.

Not to be all melodramatic, but how did we get here? How much shit do my amazing husband and I have to go through to prove that we’re strong and can get through anything? I know what we’re capable of, but I have to say I’m really growing tired of constantly being tested.

Today is the day I go in for the procedure that all too many woman who have lost their babies before me have had to go through. In a few hours, I will need to decide if I want to be knocked out completely so I can be oblivious to all that the doctors and nurses are doing, or if I want to be numbed, but stay awake while my baby is taken away… Right now, I truly don’t know which I will choose, or which I can even handle. As I told a good friend this morning who unfortunately understands this herself all too well, part of me wants to be awake so I can silently say good bye… I know my baby is gone, but I feel like I need to be there for him or her…then the other part of me isn’t sure I can handle it and that makes me feel selfish…This is never a decision I thought I’d have to make…but I do know that this too shall pass and I am praying for any and all who have had to go through this or may have to go through this one day.

I’m really hoping that writing this down and sharing our journey with anyone who even cares to read will be therapeutic and maybe even help someone else going through a difficult time..selfishly I’m really hoping for some understanding, clarity and maybe even acceptance or peace. Infertility and miscarriage are often things talked about behind closed doors or in soft whispers; however I have far too many friends going through very similar things as myself so if publicly announcing our journey helps even one of them, I’ll gladly share. I’ve always been ridiculously outspoken and open as you all know so I don’t think it will come as too much of a surprise that I’m putting myself out there. One request in doing so and putting myself out there, please be kind. Please forgive me for any typos, swearing, political incorrectness as well as the days where I am feeling sorry for myself and need a good slap to the face. Don’t worry, I promise you I will be the one to give me that slap and the pity party won’t last long, but some days it may happen beyond all control.

Reading through this novel, I guess that’s all I have in me for now. Lack of sleep, too many tears and a splitting headache probably means it wasn’t the best time to start writing, but it seems to have helped calm me down a little. More later or tomorrow, depending on how I feel. Thank you in advance to any and all who care to read and send thoughts and prayers. We know how fortunate we are even when it doesn’t always feel that way.