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..