{The Myth of} All Better

You know that saying about how a baby won’t fix a disaster of a relationship?

It’s true of course, but often in the midst of, “If we could just have a baby…” it tends to be ignored. Because really, what wouldn’t a squishy new baby fix?

And then when it happens, you slowly begin to realize that yeah, that saying is right. This is still life, and it’s still hard, and as much as you love your kids – now you’ve got a lot more stress.

So this is the same as pregnancy after loss for a lot of us. Especially me. I’ve tried really, really hard to stay grounded about another baby after Kaden died. I knew that it wouldn’t fix the loss, it wouldn’t fix me, and it wouldn’t fix our life.

And yet.

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First Tri Thoughts


I’m here! I’ve just been really, really nauseated. I can’t say it’s as bad as my other pregnancies because eating does help, but only if I eat almost constantly and never let my stomach get empty. Ever.


Which really does a number on how I try to cope with inevitable weight gain.

Yes, even after all that’s happened, I still do think about the weight gain with this pregnancy.

So while I’m not throwing up, I do feel sick all day long. It’s awful. I’m miserable and trying to keep on top of school work and life – so I haven’t written here much for two reasons. One, I don’t have time. Two, being sick triggers a lot of depressive feelings in me, and I know everyone wants so badly to hear happy updates – [Read more…]

Not Consumed

Today I’m at home, it’s raining out and I’m writing in our school room, Charlie at my side. Bella is at her hourly care class so I had time to work and finish up some papers for school.

I’m really trying not to let myself be consumed by this pregnancy. Looking back on Kaden’s (and the twins) I see how the fear and panic of it all just ate away at me. Months and months on end.

I can’t do that this time.

That might seem a little strange from someone who has experienced 3 losses and 3 high risk pregnancies (and is no longer on Zoloft), but it’s the truth.

Look at what happened. I spent all.that.time in fear, almost paralyzed by it at some points. Desperate for a different outcome. I did everything and then some.

And he still died.

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I Am So Tired Of It.

I am so, so tired of being treated like an idiot around medical staff.

I’m tired of having to constantly fight to be treated like an individual. Not just another pregnant chick. I am tired of having to comply with policy in order not to make anyone mad, and then feeling like a complete wuss for not saying anything.

I’m tired of being treated like a freak when I do say something.

I’m frustrated that my plans, although not in any way unreasonable for my labor and delivery, have to be approved.

And then aren’t. Without any question. Just – “nope”. Because it’s not policy.

It’s my body. Heck, it’s MY child. And I find it very strange that I could have terminated this pregnancy with less question that the first few hours of what I’d like after he’s born. Heaven forbid that I’d like to have my rights and his protected at birth.

I wish I could just skip the hospital. That I didn’t have to go, and of course I do because I’m so high risk, and so many other things that I could never justify purposefully not going.

I feel the unworked through fear of last time, and the time before, of my labor and birth creeping in on me. I pray so hard that I can discern which to let go of and which to fight for, but I don’t know if I will until that moment. And then if in that moment I’ll just cave, to avoid confrontation or unpleasantness again. I don’t want to head into the hospital with a chip on my shoulder, but it’s there. I can’t get past that feeling that any moment I’m going to be overrun and taken advantage of.

I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself. I’m tired of being afraid of situations that haven’t happened, of people I haven’t met, of my own shortcomings.

I know I’m different than so many others who give birth here. I understand my requests make more work or cause others to step out of a comfort zone. I don’t understand why this is constantly presented back to me as such a problem. Everyone has to comply? Everyone has to have their labor and delivery by the book and follow all procedure or they are made to feel like they’re living on the edge? Why is it a request that seems fairly normal is sent back to me with the message “dangerous” constantly?

Why am I still so afraid of this? I did something last May that was considered crazy. I did take my own life in my hands. I chose a path very much un-traveled, and although it wasn’t known to me at the time, I look back with such gratitude now that we stuck to those decisions.

So why am I still so afraid? What do I think will happen?

I know. I know it and I can hardly bring myself to write it. I’m so afraid that a decision I push for will be the wrong one. It will be my fault this time. And I’ll have to go through this pain and loss all over again. Because of me. My wishes. Not following policy and I lose again.

I’m so afraid of that.

11 months. 19 weeks and 4 days.

11 months ago Preston and Julian were born at 3am. I was 19 weeks and 4 days pregnant.

I am 19 weeks and 4 days pregnant today with our third son.

It’s hard to put into words, out loud or here, what emotions wash over me. I’ve thought about this day a lot. Part of me is proud to have made it this far with this little boy, proud my body is able to get past the point of the stages of loss from the twins.

There’s still the fear of losing him, yet I’m more and more thankful for each day that passes instead of simply terrified.

I honestly didn’t think I’d make it even to this point. I figured at 11 months I’d be grieving another loss again, and here I am. Still pregnant.

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