Gender Disappointment/excitement

As stated before, I cried for two days when I found out Fi was a girl. Then, I cried because I was so guilty for being sad. The more I look back, the more I believe that deep down my soul knew. I somehow knew my first child wasn't supposed to be a girl. I began to embrace being a mom of a girl, but I never really settled in to it.
On the way to our most recent anatomy scan, I said, with tearful eyes, "if it's a girl, I don't know what I will do. How will I love it? How will I live through the next 4 months?" James held my hand and said, "You will take one look and fall in love. You are going to love this baby no matter what." I had an intuition that this baby was a boy almost from the beginning. My whole pregnancy has been different. I feel better. I look better. I can eat vegetables.
When I heard those wonderful words "It's a boy!" My first reaction was relief. I felt like a weight had been lifted off of me. The second reaction was, I was right! (I love being right.) I began to cry. More joy and relief, than sadness. I could not help the huge smile that spread across my face. When telling our fave office person, I couldn't help the joy, smile and giddiness as I told her.
That night, James and I went out to celebrate jumping another hurdle. On the way, I said "Are you happy? Excited?" He smiled and looked straight ahead and said, "I'm happy, but I shouldn't be as happy as I am. He's healthy, that's all that matters." I replied, rather forcefully, "Don't you ever feel guilty for being happy that this is a boy. I have no guilt. It's different. That's what we need. Yes, he's healthy and that is the most important, but never feel bad for feeling relief!"
Pregnancy after loss is a tough road to navigate, with many bumps and hurdles. Gender is one of those hurdles. Some people want a total "do-over." They want things the same, they want a second chance. I, on the other hand, need things to be different. The only thing we want to be the same are some of our doctors and nurses, but that's because we love and trust them. (And we promised that we would be back on happier circumstances.)
My advice to the PAL parent, never feel guilty for your reaction to your new baby's gender. Your feelings are valid. Whether you are happy or disappointed, know that your feelings are normal. There is no right or wrong way to navigate this treacherous road. If there is something I have learned over these 22 weeks, it's that you just have to let the feeling flow and explore them after. You have to feel them. So, yes, I'm celebrating my soon to be son. It feels as if 200,000 pounds have been lifted from my shoulders. Any guilt? NOPE.

Crying at Home Depot

I felt like a bad mom. I had yet to visit the cemetery since we buried Fi. In all honesty, I hardly visit my dad. My belief is, it's just remains, their spirit is with me no matter where I am. However, I felt terrible and realized, she didn't have a tree, I hadn't really gotten her anything. So I resolved that I would get a balsam arrangement and go visit the site. I somehow landed at Home Depot garden center. That's when it all hit me. I was picking out plants and not toys. I was robbed of my Christmas. I bit my lip while I paid and walked quickly to my car. I promptly sobbed. Not just cried, but full on ugly-cry. I try not feel sorry for myself, but at that moment, I felt terrible. It's just not fair. I started should-ing on myself. I should be doing this or I should be buying that.
     I had done pretty well this Christmas season. Riding the waves of emotion and only feeling low a handful of times.  At that moment, I was at my lowest of the season. Not only did I feel like I was robbed, I felt like a neglectful mom. Talk about a sad combo. After about 10 minutes of feeling terrible, I pulled my sh*t together and moved on to the rest of my to do list.
     James joined me at the cemetery. The self pity and heartache set in. Not only was I feeling sad but I wasn't feeling her. I just wanted to feel her with me. We stayed, maybe, five minutes and went to finish shopping and get some lunch. I prayed that I would feel her with me the next day, Christmas.
       James and I had decided weeks ago that we would reveal the gender on Christmas. We didn't let family know. We wanted a surprise. Honestly, we wanted some joy and some thought of the future. Our Christmas was so joyful. I didn't feel like someone was missing. At first, I thought this was insensitive but in retrospect, NOPE. She wasn't missing. She was/is with us constantly.
    She is the best listener. She sent us a baby so quickly. This pregnancy has been a breeze. She sent us a Boy! She heard the fear deep in my heart and picked a brother! She has heard my plea that everything needs to be different.
So, we made it. We lived through Christmas. We made it over another hurdle.
22 weeks down
15 weeks to go - that's all my fingers and one set of toes!

20 weeks- Back to That Room

I should. E writing my progress notes for report cards right now, but I can't focus. I can't mental get passed Friday, so maybe, by writing, I can mentally move forward. I might be able to clear some space to get some work done.
Most pregnant women can't wait for their 20 week ultrasound. You get to find out the gender of your baby at this scan! With Fi, I took the whole day off in anticipation of finding out what we're going to have.
I'm ashamed to admit that when I found out I was having a girl, I cried. A lot. It took almost 48 hours for me to reconcile my fears of raising a girl. I was terrified about raising a strong woman with a healthy body image. I was worried about creating a close relationship, yet having an independent personality. It all just scared me.
This pregnancy, the fear is extremely different. I have begun to have some PTSD flashbacks of going in to that room. I was in there at 7 weeks and it was ugly. I refused to look at the screen, I had a nice meltdown in the office. I just don't know how I'm going to handle this. Because I have sought support in a couple of pregnancy after loss groups, I have now learned of so many other ways things can go wrong.  I'm terrified that something will come to light at the ultrasound. Most expecting parents are focused on finding the gender,  but they check out everything and I'm just so scared. On top of being terrified that something might be wrong, I'm also nervous about finding out the gender.
 There are pros and cons to either gender. There is a part of me that wants this to be a boy because then it's different. It's another aspect that will make this story different. However, we don't have much for a boy. We have some gender nuetral clothes, but not many. We have many pink blankets and snuggles. Which brings up the larger question, if it's a boy, do we keep the girl items in case we have a girl later on? Or do we donate/sell the items and start fresh. Large items are being kept. We always said they would be passed down, but the clothes, I'm not sure about.
If this baby is a girl, we have so much! On top of that, I love the name we have picked out. However, I wonder what effect that will have on my fear. Because it is something that is similar, will it send me into a trigger storm?  And then the question? Do we keep all the clothes? Or will it be too hard to use
 those items, knowing they were meant for the dream that didn't come true? Even deeper than that, will I look at this little girl and constantly wonder how similar she would be with her sister? Will I constantly be wondering and comparing? How unfair!
We will not be announcing gender until after the holiday season. We want to get through Christmas and then we can tell family and friends.  So, on Friday, I will be putting in a full day of work. I will be distracting myself until my appointment. I am trying to stay positive. You can tell me " it will be fine" until you're blue. Truth is, it won't be fine until April.
Fingers crossed, praying hands and positive vibes until then.

The Places I Still Can't Go

When you are pregnant, you get noticed, people ask you questions and feel like they can get to know you because you obviously have a huge life event looming. It's nice when things are going well. However, when something bad happens, it another person on the list who gets the bad news or you have to explain. I have faced many places that cause triggers. The doctor's office was the first one I had to face. We went to our 7th appointment and it was the first one I wasn't having anxiety the night befor, fearing the worst (Progress!). I have gone back to my chiropractor. I went there an hour before the dreaded ultrasound. I have gone back to work. The first time was ugly. Luckily, most of the staff was in a meeting and school was out, so I saw just a handful of people. These people literally held me up as I walked down the hallway. Anyways, there a still a few places I just can't face.

When I was pregnant with Fi, I had a very particular palate. I could hardly eat meat and the smell of it cooking would totally turn me off. In the beginning. Ice cream was about the only thing I could stomach (Haagen Dazs chocolate with peanut butter). I ate a lot of ice cream and cookies for that matter. As you can imagine, with my aversion to cooking meat, eating at home was tough because cooking it would turn me off. As you can imagine there were places we frequented. There was one, a local Italian restaurant with THE BEST penne a la vodka and cannoli. We went almost every Friday night and James happened to know the bartender. We went just a week before we lost Fi and joked that I would be there for my birthday with a tiny baby in tow, just for the Penne! But we didn't.
We have yet to return. I can't imagine going back empty handed and having the awkward conversation with the staff about our loss. How could I have that conversation with almost strangers? As much as I want some penne a la vodka.

I used to work at Motherhood maternity about 5 years ago. So when I got pregnant, I was not intimidated by maternity clothes and couldn't wait to put on a full panel pant! One of my former co-workers was still working there, so I had a friendly face to see whenever I needed to go shopping. (Like the day before my shower and I needed a dress that made me feel pretty.) Again, so nice for the support while I was pregnant, not someone I wanted to share my sad news with. So, I won't be going back to that store this pregnancy. If I need something to wear, I will travel to another store or shop target, old navy or kohls. I don't need the stress of almost bumping into that co-worker. (Although she was at market basket las week while I was purchasing salted caramels on a total craving run. I managed to dodge her and come out unscathed. Looks like I will shop at the grocery closer to work.)

It may seem stupid, almost self centered that I think I might be "noticed," but I would rather avoid the opportunity then risk the awkward conversation. Maybe I will be able to get some penne a la vodka after April or I could convince a family or friend to get some to go for me, but I just can't go there myself.
This pregnancy, we have only frequented one restaurant and they are like family. We hosted Fi's wake there. They know our story. They are holding their breath with us. As all of our friends and family are. We are in a scary, holding pattern, together.
But hey! 17 weeks down, 20 weeks to go.

And I thought I couldn't have anymore fear

Ha! Just when I think that I couldn't have anymore fears or worries, my subconscious has another thing coming!  I am scared. Like constant state of alert, scared. I'm pretty sure the list of fear is  going to get longer.
Because of my age, many friends are beginning or expanding their families.  I was pregnant at the same time as a handful of friends and acquaintances. One of my best friends was just two weeks ahead of me. Talk about a dream come true! I think most women would like to be pregnant with their friend. We could relate to our aches and pains, lack of energy and dreams. Our babies were going to be boyfriend and girlfriend! That was the dream, until that dreadful Monday. She was actually the first non family member to know what happened. We both had appointments, she texted to check in to see if we were going to be induced. I replied "she's gone. There is no heartbeat." At the time, we didn't have any real answers. We still don't, just speculations.
Anyway, I delivered Fi silently on Tuesday and just two days later, my friend delivered her healthy son. I was so happy she had a healthy baby but I was in a pile of grief. My friend did not push. She checked in, even when I didn't respond, she would send a text letting me know she was thinking of me and would still be my friend even though she understood I couldn't be at that moment. Her understanding has been remarkable. We are navigating this strange path that is covered in pitfalls and she is doing a phenomenal job. She has vowed that I never have to see her son. Which is so sweet. I know I'm not ready right now, but hope one day, I can meet him and celebrate him. It's just not going to happen this year. It's such a relief that this friend is protecting my heart as if it was her own. I cannot thank her enough for her empathy and forethought.
    Needless to say, yet another handful of friends and aquaintences are pregnant at the same time as me. Some even due within weeks of me. Where this used to excite me, it scares the hell out of me. What if something happens? How will James handle it if it's one of his friends?  Please place me in a bubble until April. PLEASE.
   After I lost Fi, I made a very odd promise to myself. I told myself I wouldn't hold a baby, until I could hold my own living child. I have kept that promise so far. Keeping babies at more than arms length. Although trying not to be rude, just trying to protect my heart. Please take no offense if I don't want to hold your baby. I made a promise and I don't like to break promises. I hope this boycott will end in April and I can snuggle all your babies.
And maybe, when he's 16 and it's super awkward, I can hug my friend's son. Hopefully sooner, but I can't garrantee anything.

I Wrote the Letter I have been DYING to write

We recently had a doctors appointment, which always makes me nervous and happy. I'm always scared that there will be bad news. I'm working on staying positive, but it can be hard. It honestly, is hard to be positive, period. While answering the typical questions, "how are you feeling?" (Which is always a two part answer, physically and mentally.) I said something that even struck me. I was discussing my fears, the doctor observed, that whole most women lose anxiety as they progress through their pregnancy, I'm likely to be the opposite. April seems like so far away. It's nice to know that we have a date already. We know that we won't go farther than April 11 for induction, but April is still a long ways away. However, every school year, April vacation rolls around and I always say, "where has the year gone?" Every year, time goes by faster and faster.  While talking, some words stumbled out of my mouth that made me think, "listen to yourself !"  It dawned on me, whether I choose to be positive or I choose to worry, the time is going to pass anyway. I have the choice. So as hard as it is, I'm going to try and choose positivity. I'm going to try and quiet the worry. 

     Our nurse in the hospital was our angel. She was amazing and knew exactly what to say. She was my voice, my cheerleader and my tissue! She advocated for me and try to make me as comfortable as possible. She also made my family comfortable and took care of James at the same time. She made sure I was never alone. When we left, we said we couldn't wait to see her at a more joyous time and we hope she will still be working at the hospital when we get pregnant again. She has kept in touch with notes, which has been nice. We have been waiting to respond to her latest correspondence so we could tell her the good news. As much as I wanted to write this letter, I kept wondering how I would word the letter that might follow. The sad one that would say how something is wrong. Morbid, right? 

   After the little pep talk with our doctor and made that statement, I went home and wrote the letter. I told her our good news and how we hope that somehow, the Stars might align and she can be our nurse again. It was scary, but I can't wait for her to recieve the letter. I can't wait for her to read the good news. I know she will be just as excited as we are. I'm not sure if she knows the impact she has had on our lives, but I hope she has some idea. 

Now I have to find some stamps! 

The Fear of Hope

This past week has been difficult. My anxiety has been ramping up again, which has triggered my depression. Sometimes it sneaks up on me without even realizing that it's even there. I had been feeling off and not like myself, but I just shrugged it off as anxiety. It's was when, for the fourth day in a row, I didn't want to go to school. I love my job and I have had moments where I just wanted to keep driving past and not go in. However, never so many days in a row, did I just not want to face my students. It was the moment I wanted to hide under my desk and cry, that I realized something had changed.
   Luckily, I had an appointment with my therapist that night. My session proved to be enlightening. Sometimes, just saying it out loud, acknowledging the depression, helps to take some of the weight off. It came to light that my fear is getting in the way of hope and bonding with this new pregnancy. It's not uncommon and completely understandable, but it's not how I want this pregnancy to go. I would give anything to reclaim my naïveté. To feel like, we are out of the danger zone, this baby is a guarantee. It's not. Having that knowledge sucks. It's sucking the joy right out of this pregnancy. How do I combat this? How do I attempt to reclaim some of the joy? How do I fight the fear of hope?
    I shared a few things I didn't do during my pregnancy with Fi. Things that, in the long run, I was happy for. Other loss moms have suggested to do something different this pregnancy. Something that others do. Take the weekly belly pictures, write letters to the new baby, purchase items for the baby. When I spoke about this to my therapist, I voiced that inner demon in the back of my head. What if this ends tragically and I have a pile of pictures I never want to look at, letters I want to burn and more stuff to add to the room we hardly open? Before she could say anything, I answered my own question. It's going to be devistating if this should end badly, whether we have the "stuff" or not. So I promise to "fake it till I make it" and try one technique to try and bond.
     Since I think having tangible items will give me something to look at and hold to remind me that I am pregnant ( seriously, sometimes I forget and a lot of times I don't even really FEEL pregnant). So each week we progress, James and I are making it a point to purchase one item for the baby and not put it "in the room." We need to keep it visible. Today we went to target to find something to buy. It was the first time I had been in the store and not avoided the baby section, let alone enter it willingly. It was HARD . I couldn't look at it for long and just wanted to grab something off the shelf and leave. James pushed that it should be something we like and we will use. I asked to walk away. We did a little Christmas shopping. The. We found ourselves in the sports section. James found a 3 pack of Patriots onesies that would be the perfect size for this baby and it's first football season. I took it and we bought it. At this point, I'm totally faking it and I hope that by going through the motions, eventually something will click.  Eventually, I will stop saying "with any luck" "hopefully" and knocking on wood.  Eventually, I will stop cringing when others take about baby E. It's difficult for me to even put a name to this little thing. When others say it, the little demon voice of fear speaks up and sings a song of doubt that only I can hear.
     Some have asked how they can help. Honestly, I don't know. The best is to listen, give me hugs and reassure me that I'm not insane or insensitive. Encouragement when I act like its normal and ignore the fear, understanding when I let some of the fear out.
     We were told that we will be delivering at 37 weeks. So as of today, only 24 more weeks to go. It seems like an eternity, but after years of teaching, I've learned that April vacation comes fast and furious.
Here's to 24 more gifts for baby E.