Kitty

I write about my dog a lot, but not much about my cat. Honestly... it's because she's mean. (You should be aware that while I can say she's mean, I'm not really cool with you saying she's mean. It's a family thing.)

Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to the seldom mentioned Ren Ramsey. My stepmom took this photo of her, and the picture kinda says it all.

New Strength

Tonight the physical pain really caught up with me. Which, in a way, is good because perhaps it means this will be over soon without medical intervention. But, Holy Moses! I took the double dose of Advil that my doctor suggested, but I felt the need to supplement with some wine. (At least when you face this particular tragedy you get one of your coping mechanisms back.)

Speaking of the big T word, I'm actually kind of okay. I know I'll face some harsh judgement saying this, but I am.

Of course, it's a sad situation. You don't have hopes and dreams of a due date then not be sad when they're taken away.

But there's one part of this I wasn't expecting: see, this was my biggest fear. My BIGGEST. The possibility that this might happen was a huge hurdle for me to get past even deciding to try to conceive. I thought I would literally crumble... that my emotions and my mind would totally give way to a loss like this. But then it happened, and as awful as it is, I'm living through it. I'm walking, and breathing, and working in the midst of my biggest fear. And it in no way hinders me from having hope for the future and wanting to try again someday. I guess I'm just saying it's amazing to find out you're stronger than you thought you were.

I have this one friend who doesn't know, and he's been sending me inane text messages all night, just like normal. I SO love that. It makes me not want to tell him, because it's quite a ray of sunshine when everyone else outside my house gives me the sad face. I understand though; it's an awkward position. You don't really know what to say, and you don't want to make anything worse. But, just so you know, you can totally be silly around me again. I would appreciate, maybe even cherish, a little bit of silly.

Silent

I can't believe I'm writing this. Bryan and I found out yesterday that we lost the baby.

We left a concert early Monday night because the spotting I was trying desperately not to worry about escalated into cramping and bleeding. Yesterday morning I called the doctor and she had me come in for an ultrasound.

I couldn't see the monitor, but the room was SO quiet. I mean, no one said a single word. Then, at the point where they turn up the sound there was no heartbeat, just silence. Deeply sad silence. When I got dressed, the technician said she called my doctor who wanted me to come right over, and I didn't need to bother checking out at the desk. When they want you to leave that quickly, you kind of know what's coming. What's more, they told Bryan but told him not to tell me.

I'm an Optical Technician. While it's completely different, I understand the laws that apply to both of us. I know a non-M.D. giving a patient a diagnosis is considered practicing medicine without a license and can lead to severe legal nastiness. So, of course I wasn't shaking anyone's shoulders demanding answers, since they seemed pretty obvious anyway.

My doctor was off that day, so her partner broke the news. The ultrasound showed the embryo was exactly the same size it had been at the six-weeks test and no heartbeat was detected. They have no way to know what went wrong, but there was a problem with the fetus if it wasn't growing. After a brief overview of our options we chose to go home and let nature take it's course, assisted by double-doses of Advil. Hopefully this goes OK on it's own. They took some blood before I left to test the pregnancy hormone level. I had a checkup appointment the day after Christmas so we're going back then to recheck the blood with hopes that the hormone level has dropped to zero.

I know this happens more than people talk about, but at least the doctor who broke the news avoided using the word "common." I deeply appreciate that. I hate the connotations of that word as it relates to these situations, because it sure as hell doesn't l feel common. When you thought a baby was going to join your family and then you find out it isn't... you get where I'm going with this. It is distinctly UNcommon.

Thank you for all your prayers and kind words through the joy and sadness. I know that God is still good and there will be brighter days.

Wow

You should watch the short film All About My Dog when you have 10 minutes to spare. Make sure you have a few tissues handy. If you're pregnant, you're gonna need a whole box. (Also, try not to go embrace your pet while your still sobbing. It really freaks them out.)

It's about a little girl, Mika and her dog, Marimo.

First Picture

I'll just say it. It's already glaringly obvious that the kid's going to be attractive.

According to this, the baby will enter the world sometime near July 28th. It appears I'm only about 6 weeks into this journey. The (seemingly) gallons of blood I gave them last week yielded all positive results - no crazy diseases and this hormone level and that hormone level are all healthy.

We've taken to calling the little one "bean" since it's that size. We got to listen to Bean's heartbeat for a while, which was just way beyond anything I've ever experienced. And besides the photos, they recorded some live Bean action on videotape for us.

Hee hee. There's really a baby in there.