11/30/10: What a Way to Break A Heart

I kind of didn't think it was possible.  I also had no idea how it would feel if it ever happened.  But it is possible.  And now I know...

I wrote a blog yesterday.  It wasn't really about anything, so I don't blame anyone...but not one single person commented.  I kind of didn't even think that was possible.  But apparently it is.  And now I know how it feels to have gone for nearly a year with blogs being commented on at least once each...and to have nothing...it kind of breaks the heart.

What a strange feeling that is.  I already knew I was blogging for the affirmation.  So no affirmation...turns out...is a slap in the face.

A slap in the face in a time when I'm trying so very hard to find reasons to smile.  A miscarriage is a strange thing...it really plays with the mind.  I never "looked" pregnant...so how is anyone to believe that I was?

Friday I got a call from one of my aunts that another of my aunts had been rushed to the hospital on Thanksgiving and turns out...she has a very fast growing brain tumor.  She spent the entire weekend in ICU and is undergoing surgery today.  My aunt's doctor has had to say there will be brain damage and they know they can't get all of the tumor out, but they're gonna try their best.  Hopefully it's benign and hopefully damage is minimal and hopefully my aunt can move on with her life.  This is the same aunt whose husband is fighting lung cancer. 

Their news is weighing incredibly on my heart.  I don't want my grandmother to have to watch another of her baby girls go through a struggle, it was enough when she lost my mom.  I don't want my aunt and uncle to have to be fighting both lung cancer and a brain tumor.  I want them healthy and enjoying a much deserved and hard-fought-for retirement.  I don't want my family to be losing losing losing and it seems that is the phase we are in.

So here's my broken heart...begging...for affirmation.

11/29/10: Wowser

We had a happy Thanksgiving in our house.  Everything went fine with just a minimal scare Thursday morning that maybe the oven wasn't fixed afterall.  But then the oven behaved and it behaved fine for the rest of the day.  We all ate well and the company was the absolute best part of it all!  I didn't take any pictures this year because, well, I just don't really do pictures, or so it seems.  I thought about it at one point and then decided against it and now am kicking myself as I see all of your pictures.  Oh well, c'est la vie!

I think the interesting thing about Thanksgiving was that I decided, now that I am back in weightloss mode, to put GoBe back on, on Thursday.  GoBe is my GoWear Fit and it calculates calories burned and the amount of sleep I get plus the steps I take throughout the day.  I tell it what I ate and it then declares - you had a deficit of....

Well.  I put it on Thursday morning for the first time since the beginning of October.  I quit wearing it after learning I was pregnant because I just didn't care.  And now I care again.  And on Thursday...I burned...you ready for this?  3,822 calories.  My record prior to that was somewhere around 3200.  Wowser!

I earned that meal!

I think I ate well, too.  Everything went down, although some things slower than others (stuffing vs. green bean casserole).  Everything was homemade this year and everything was divine, if I don't say so myself.  I had one serving spoon of about everything on our table...no sweet potatoes, though, hate them, they are just way too sweet for me.   But I had cauliflower gratin - didn't want to go down, cauliflower could have been (and should have been) cooked just a bit more.  I had turkey - both fried and roasted.  The best turkey didn't even get put on the table, the one off the barbeque.  I think we are officially done with oven roasted turkeys.  The fried was amazing...but it wasn't the frying that made it amazing, it was the injected marinade.  So we can add that to our grilled turkey and save the fat from the oil.  It was great to try it, but now I can say I have and move on with life.  I ate the broccoli rice casserole and the cranberry relish and the stuffing and the homemade cheddar biscuits.  And it all went down.  At the end of the day, out of curiosity, I calculated calories for what I'd eaten at my meal and it was a whopping 800.  But, again, with burning 3822 in the making of it all, I'm so not worried about it!

It's the leftovers that are doing me in!  We have a tradition building of making paninis with the leftovers on the Friday after.  This is the third year we've done that and everyone piles into the kitchen to create their own personalized panini which I then grill for them.  The paninis are shockingly good and it's always interesting to see what people choose to put on them.  I was even able to eat the panini...but was thankful that we chose a very small loaf (potato rosemary bread) for this year.  Very little sandwiches.  A few people thought that bread looked small so they made themselves two...and could barely finish the one.  So the bread worked out well.

Another awesome thing was that the Aggies won!  Gig 'Em Aggies!

Friday was a lazy day, not by planning.  We thought we'd get out and do something but we just never did.  We just watched football all day long.

Saturday was another lazy day.  We talked briefly about doing some work around the house, getting Christmas decorations down...but nothing materialized.  We spent Saturday night playing cards with friends and were up until 2am trying to finish the game.  It was a pretty low-key and fun evening!

Finally, Sunday, we did get the Christmas decorations down and we got our Christmas lights up on both the front of the house and the rear as well as the icicle lights around our fence.  Our backyard faces a "lake" with a walking path around it so our house is visible by all from both sides.  And all the houses that are on the "lake" try to put the icicle lights around the fence.  It would be gorgeous if everyone would do it.  But some people did it the first year and have not since.  Others don't do Christmas.  And it ends up being about every other house that has the lights up.  I always love the way the back of the house lights reflect off of the pool which is now steaming because it's warmer than the air.  It's an entirely wintery feel to me and I love it!

And that's about all I know.  I hope y'all have a fantastic week!

11/24/10: I love Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is, to me, the best holiday of all that we celebrate.  It brings family and friends together just for the sake of being together and being thankful of each other.  It is fun to set up for, it is fun to cook for, it is fun to be together for - and the best part is it's all so that we can say thank you.

Thank you for our lives.
Thank you for the best husband on the planet (sorry, but he is.)  :)
Thank you for the major turn-around this year has been for me - taking charge of my health and my eating and even learning that I CAN get pregnant.
Thank you for our friends.
Thank you for our family.
Thank you for our health.
Thank you for our friends' and family's health.
Thank you for the fact that we have jobs.
Thank you for the fact that we have a home and we can heat it (or cool it) and stock it with food and we can fill it with love and memories every day.
Thank you for our many blessings which include, so far, lifetimes of health and happiness.
Thank you for the thought of what's to come.
Thank you for four perfect, healthy and happy pets that make coming home that much more special.
Thank you for everything.

I love my life.  I have struggles and sadness on occasion and pleasures and happiness all around.  I was blessed with a great upbringing in which my parents, amidst all their "screw ups" kept my happiness at the forefront.  And it worked.  I can get through most anything with a smile on my face.

Thanksgiving, to me, is the best holiday of all.  I have 28 years of wonderful memories in which my mom and I cleaned and prepped and shopped and prepped and cooked a wonderful meal meant only to bring together people who loved each other.  It was always such a special day.  Most of the time, Thanksgiving was at our house.  A few years, my mom, an RN (at the time) had to work on Thanksgiving and so my dad and I would join her at the hospital cafeteria for our Thanksgiving meal.  It never mattered.  It was always a special day, to me.

Since I lost my mom, I've vowed to carry on what she taught me.  To fill my house with loved ones and all cook a special meal together.

We sit down to a family style meal and start with singing "We Gather Together".  As new people join in this tradition with me, they are always touched by that simple (beautiful) song.  I love that this little song, and that it's so important in my family, brings tears to my MIL's eyes.

At some point in the meal, we all take turns stating our thanks, round-robin style.  I love that, too.  It's always so special, to me, to be able to hear exactly what it is my friends and family are most thankful for.

We all enjoy a fabulous feast.  This year I am cooking:

• Three turkeys (1 fried (11lb), 1 oven-roasted(13.5lb) and 1 on the barbeque (23lb))
• Stuffing (and yes, I put what will fit in the bird...IN THE BIRD)
• Mashed Taters
• Gravy
• Sweet Potatoes
• Cranberry Sauce (only canned item on the menu)
• Cranberry Relish
• Waldorf Salad
• Cauliflower Gratin
• Green Bean Casserole
• Broccoli Rice Casserole
• I made homemade cream of mushroom, cream of chicken, and cream of celery soups for the green beans and broccoli rice this year.  Those homemade renditions are amazing and super easy!
• Pumpkin Custard Pie
• Banana Cream Pie
• Pecan Pie

A neighbor is bringing creamed corn and something else.  Another neighbor may or may not bring oyster stuffing.  And we'll see if anyone shows up with anything else...

And once we eat all that, we'll all work together to get the kitchen cleaned back up.  Although my husband prides himself on helping me in the kitchen (and it's really not him helping me, it's a joint effort) but when he's between tasks, he always starts to clean and works on the dishwasher and whatnot.  Last year, after dinner, we literally had just dishes to do...

Once the cleaning is done, it's time for football.  And I'm so thankful that the Aggies have decided to try and be the Aggies again!  I have found my love of football being revived as this season has progressed!  It's a big game on Thursday against UT-Austin and this year is huge.  If A&M wins...UT-Austin, a national champion contender last year, will find themselves not even bowl eligible.  (heart breaking)  On the other hand, if the Aggies win, we take a share of the Big XII south.  Who ever coulda thunk it!  I love me some exciting football and I love the tradition and rivalry involved in this game.  Even as a California girl growing up, I was still impressed by this game.  My love for A&M started when I was 8 years old and I saw the bonfire burning just before the start of a game (footage from the previous evening) as the broadcasters talked a bit about the traditions of A&M.  I vowed to myself I'd go to A&M...and then forgot.  And surprise surprise, guess where I ended up 17 years later. 

Thanksgiving is always a marvelous day.  Even in the years when we've had "disasters" - clogged garbage disposals, dead ovens, missing dogs, flat tires, stuck on the freeway in traffic - it has always turned out wonderfully.

Now isn't that proof positive of how wonderful a positive attitude can be?

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

11/23/10:Forward Y'arch

When I was in boot camp, the "AROC" used to command the company to move by shouting out "Forward Y'arch".  That was what you would have heard and it was a great thing to say all through the Navy when it came down to moving onward in spite of our druthers.  What "Forward Y'arch" stands for is "Forward Company March" but in haste to stay on cadence, it comes out "Forward Y'arch".

I love Forward Y'arch.  I love most all of my Navy day stories, really, but when sharing my stories with civilians, I tend to have to explain what it means, where it comes from, why it's significant and I always notice, when I do that, that people's faces glaze over with boredom.  And by the time the story is shared, I've lost the listener.  So, I tend to not talk Navy unless I'm with a fellow-sailor.  Get two sailors together and it's a riot, I think.

By the by, "AROC" stands for "Assistant Recruit Chief Petty Officer" but AROC makes more sense than "ARCPO".  It's much easier to "say" AROC.  The AROC is secondary in command, amongst the recruits in the company, to the RCPO, the recruit in the company with all the authority.  The RCPO we really did call the RCPO.  The RCPO has a lot on their shoulders while the AROC is second in command, stepping up with the RCPO is out for whatever reason - dr. appt, test, whatever - and the AROC always calls cadence when the company is marching in formation.

I have no idea if this is still the same format used in Navy boot camp nowadays.  This was true when I was there - sixteen years ago...


Anywho, so Forward Y'arch is meant for me.  Enough with the cramps, enough with the miscarriage, enough with the dead oven, enough with the sinusitis and infected incision.  Enough.  Forward!  Y'arch!


Although it's not against my druthers at this point.  It's just an emphatic life moves on...


(I'll still give you updates on the incision as I learn new things.  Right now, my Derm has decided to keep me off the antibiotics and to wait for the culture results to come back.  He's hoping that he'll have some news next week so I have a new appt set for next Weds.)


Bunches of stuff to talk about today.  Bullets for the rest of it....

• I don't think I've ever been at my sweet spot.  There is a lot of talk going on right now about the elusive sweet spot and the fickleness of it all.  And I am pretty sure I've not been "there" but I'm also emphatically sure that I've been exactly where I want to be.  At that place where food was still of interest but not where I could eat too much of it.  At that place where it was up to me to make the wise choice most of the time but where I could still opt for the treat if I so desired.  Nothing on the don't eat list.  Quantity was reasonable (usually 0.5 cup).  Time it took to eat was reasonable - I could eat my meal before it got stone cold.  And hunger wasn't a sensation I felt for 3-4 hours after my meal.
• Yeah, I want that place back.
• I can still eat anything.  But I can now eat a lot more of it.  Still getting hungry according to schedule.
• Drink a smoothie at 7:30am, hungry for lunch at noon. 
• Eat lunch at noon, hungry for snack at 3pm. 
• Eat snack at 3pm, hungry for dinner at 6pm. 
• Eat dinner at 6pm, not hungry but wanting that "something else" like one or two mini peanut butter cups or two mini cookies around 8pm. 
• Eat that "something else" at 8pm and I'm done.
• Yeah, that's still the schedule.  But the amount is much more.  Smoothie - still 6oz.  Lunch - still 3oz of tuna or chicken salad (when I'm at work, which, of course, I haven't been much for the past two weeks).
• I know my lack of routine for the past two weeks is part of this equation.  Routine matters.
• But dinner.  I can eat a big mac.  With all three slices of bread. 
• Usually, when I want a big mac, since banded, I eat only one slice of the bread.  And, no, I don't often want big mac's.  More on that to come, but prior to the situation I'll talk about shortly, the big mac's were a twice since banded thing.  And like I said, one piece of the bun and open faced.  No french fries, no shake, no soda.  Just a sam'ich.
• And along with that big mac...I share a medium fry with my hubby.  And drink a soda.
• Yeah, don't worry about the eating a big mac, seriously.  I'll come to that.  For now, it's a thing of the past.  Seriously.  Don't worry.  It's all been on purpose with forethought to what the bad choice meant, what it represented, what the consequences might be.
• So I guess I'll skip ahead to say that nearly four weeks ago when we got news that things were not good for what should have been our growing baby, well, I still didn't throw in the towel eating wise, per se.
• With being pregnant, my calorie intake did change.  A LOT.  But I was being conscientous and listening to my body and making generally wise choices and it was all working.  I had increased my calorie intake appropriately and I was not out of control.  And, in fact, for all of October and half of November, my weight effectively held steady.  And by effectively I actually mean, to the ounce.  Towards the end, just before the D&C, I actually wound up losing 2 pounds.
• Which got me to 204.
• On November 3rd, it started to sway.
• On November 10th it fell over.
• On November 12th, it was all done for.
• So here's how it went.
• This is my come clean blog, my learning blog, my putting it out there for women that might get pregnant in the future with the band blog.  So I hope that by putting this out there that I can help someone understand something for themselves, as well.
• On October 27th, we went in for our first ultrasound and it wasn't a good event.  In reality, that was when Fred and I started to be able to work on the possibility that we were going to end up with a miscarriage.  My eating didn't change with that event.
• On November 3rd, the ultrasound was, in one harsh word, catastrophic.
• My eating changed.  I gave myself permission to use food however I wanted.  I was not going to be worried about food in light of what we were learning.  If I wanted a big mac, I was going to eat it and not add the additional stress of trying to be a model bandster to what was already on my plate.
• On November 10th, the miscarriage was confirmed.  And while my eating did not change, I was already eating whatever suited me at whatever meal it suited me for...
• I can say, I wasn't grazing between meals any more or less than I ever have post-band.  I was just not worried about the "wise choice" aspect of my eating.
• Like I said, I gave myself permission to allow food to be a comfort.  Notably, that included big mac's (through the duration of this phase, I had 3, one with all the bread, 2 with only one slice of the bun) and ramen noodles.  I also ate only salads for dinner.  And then only pasta.  I opted one day to not eat a single protein source at all, which is not to say I did not get any protein, but it sure wasn't 60g.
• But you know what?  I never stressed it.  I gave myself permission and, now that I am feeling better the permission was revoked.  Permission was revoked last week, in fact.  And it was not a struggle to "go back" because I was ready for it.  I never felt guilty or out of control, in fact, but rather, that I was not stressing over something silly to stress about - in the grand scheme of things.
• It's interesting to me.  I don't think I fell off the wagon in this choosing of mine.  I did it all conscientously.  And I shut it down with specificity when I was ready.  I did not stress it, I did not fight it, I did not feel guilty about it.  I did not worry.  Because I did not worry over it, stress over it, fight it, feel guilty about it, because I felt I was staying in control, because I could and did stop eating when I was full...I feel like I stayed on my chosen wagon.  The wagon that includes that life sucks sometimes.  And we have to do what we have to do to get through it.  And if food can help - and if I can stay in control of it, then what's the harm?
• I'll deal with the aftermath later.
• So what's the aftermath?  Scale tells me 8 pounds in 8 days.  That was what the scale said on Sunday.  8 pounds in 8 days.
• I don't buy that for a second.  I buy that I gained.  I have no idea what it truly is in "fat" though.  I buy that I am retaining water as my body still figures out what normal is and how to get back to it.  I buy that vicodin causes problems.  I buy that my body is still situating and big mac's are full of salt (as are many of the other things I was turning to, ramen, chips, soda, etc).
• And I know that 8 pounds in 8 days cannot all be fat.  I was eating "badly" but I was not eating a ton.  I'm sure I gained.  I know I gained fat, through the whole pregnancy and miscarriage.  I can tell by how my clothes are fitting.  I know my measurements are not the same as pre-pregnancy and I know that not lifting any weights at all since September is part of the reason for that.
• Major learning lesson right there.  I will ALWAYS have to have some for of weightlifting in my routine or the flab will take over.
• I also know that it's moving back downwards. 
• On my scale on Monday - down two pounds.  Means I'm up six overall.
• On my scale today - down two more.  Means I'm up four overall.
• So my body is starting to regulate itself back out.  And who knows how long it will take to settle.  Probably as long as it takes me to get my first (.).
• I think, based on how comments have gone in the past, that I must state absolutely and certainly I am not worried at all about my weight fluctuations right now.  My body has been through a lot of changes since September and if all I've accumulated is 8 pounds of water retention and some exchange of fat for muscle but in general I'm still in the same ballpark that I was pre-pregnancy, well, then WOW!  This will sort itself out and I am not worried.
• I am learning.  And I'm sharing what I've learned.
• I think the very interesting thing here is how much I've changed.  In the past, when something disappointing and grievous happened to me, well, I would turn to food for comfort.  And then the scale would respond to the food type - and the salt - and I'd freak out and throw in the towel.
• And I'm not freaked out at all nor am I throwing in the towel.  I realized that I was in control of ALL OF MY EATING as I was making each decision and I realized that I was ok.  I was not stressing the stupid shite (sorry to be so brash) but it is stupid to worry about food the way we do.  You eat when you are hungry, you stop when you are full.  What's to worry about there?  In the grand scheme of things, we won't get to the end of our lives and say 'dangit, I wish I'd cared more about food'.  Nor will we say 'dangit, I wish I'd cared less about food'.  We will think of all the times we shared meals with loved ones and that WE WERE WITH OUR LOVED ONES.  We will think about our loved ones and how wonderful life can be.
• At least that is what my mom did.  She thought about her time with me, with my step-dad, with my grandmother and grandfather, with my aunts and uncles, with her most cherished of friends.  She thought about THE PEOPLE. 
• And so did my dad.
• And so did my step-dad.
• They didn't think about, 'sheesh, if I hadn't eaten that steak or that snickers or drank that beer....'
• So realizing I've changed is huge.  When I needed to let food be on the backburner, it was.  When I need to put food back on the foreburner because I'm back to losing mode, well, it is.
• I'm realizing, too, that while I think I need a fill, I really just need my body to get back to normal.  Yesterday I made the personal choice to make the personal choice to just not push the limits.  I'd been eating because I could.  Because I wasn't stressing about it.  And while I thought that meant I could choose the big mac's and not stress about it, I hadn't intended to give myself carte blanche to eat because I could.  So the fact that I could, and was on occasion, did scare me a bit.
• But yesterday, telling myself to pay attention to the signals...well...I'd say it worked well.
• Breakfast = 6oz of our smoothie (220 calories, 25g protein)
• Lunch = 3oz tuna salad and 10 nut-thin crackers (275 calories, 16g protein)
• snack = small apple (95 calories)
• dinner = 1 slice of pizza and 1 breadstick (420 calories, 16g protein)
• "that little something" = two mini twix bars. (140 calories, 2g protein)
• 1150 calories and 59g of protein
• So now I know I really can eat the "right" amounts and be fine.
• Feeling like I am back in the realm I want to be in, I'm suddenly back to,  yeah, not so worried about a fill anymore.  I like that I can eat a slice of pizza and any more fill would probably take that away from me.  We rarely eat pizza.  By rarely I mean if it's once a month, that's been a lot.  In this case, given the time frame between September and now, it's been twice.  Overall, since I've been banded (I'll have been banded 8 months in one week) it's been three times.  So really....rarely.
• I think if I get back to mostly wise which means proper protein and fruits and veggies and fiber...then I'm probably still exactly where I want to be.  Interesting, eh?
• This is a long blog.  I've been storing all this for a long time and I want to just get it all out there.  I hope you are learning with me.  This, of course, is all very personal and varies greatly from person to person.  But this is my experience.  Given that I wasn't worried about calorie intakes while I was pregnant and while I wasn't worried about anything food related at all through the miscarriage, this has been stored for awhile.  I was always processing pieces of this in the background, though, noticing little things, putting new things together...and wah-lah, you get a lengthy blog.
• As for the fill.  I know that I want to wait until I'm "normal" again before I get one.  I also know that even if I were normal today and felt like I needed one, that I wouldn't get one.  I've decided that until this skin/incision thing is resolved, nobody will be passing needles through this crap into my port.  If it's an infection, I don't want it passed onto my port. 
• I also know that I want to find my new surgeon now.  There is a local support group that meets once a month or so that I attend.  The meetings are in various member's homes and sometimes it's even at my house.  Anywho, there are two ladies in that group that absolutely love their surgeons so I've asked them who they are and for contact info.  Hopefully my insurance will like either of these guys and hopefully one of these surgeons will accept me.  I know I want to get a new surgeon lined up.
• I also know that my eating is back to my determined "best bet".  The life I want to live is not stressing about protein or calories, not stressing about is it a "good" choice or is it "bad", not stressing about can I eat this bread...but making sure my overall picture on any given day is "enough" protein (~60g), "proper" caloric intake (~1100-1220) and enjoyable. 
• And ya wanna know why we chose pizza?  Cause we had to fix the oven last night and if we didn't get something we weren't gonna eat since we couldn't eat in our house.  So we grabbed a pizza on the way home and ate it and went to work.  And you know what....
• our oven works!!!!
• Happy Thanksgiving to us!
• We decided to not shop for a new one but rather that we would buy the replacement control panel/computer.  But by the time we got off work the parts store was closed so we couldn't buy the new control panel until today.  We decided in the meantime to go home, put the oven back together and then asked a neighbor to bring his multimeter over so we could test a few more things to make sure it wasn't anything else.  So we got the oven put back together and back in the wall and started testing the other things.  All tested fine.  Went outside and tested the breaker.  Tested fine.  Well dangit.  Control panel it is.  Neighbor goes home and finally at 9pm last night we are just sitting down for the first time.
• And then hubby says, I want to turn the breaker on and check it one more time.  So he goes and turns the breaker on, goes in the kitchen, sets the oven to preheat and wanders back to the couch.  We sit there and then hear the beep saying "oven's hot".  So we both timidly walk in the kitchen and we are surprised to see a glowing hot heating element.  And we open the door - and it sure feels warm.  I thought it felt appropriate for the temperature the oven was set to but hubby wanted to check so I get out my thermometer and stick it in the oven and the thermometer agrees with the temp.  Jack the temp up a bit - thermometer agress.  Turn the broiler on - thermometer agrees.  IT'S HOT IN THERE!
• We still have to finish putting the oven completely back together - trim and all that stuff and given that it was nearly 10pm, we said, we'll do it tomorrow.  But it works!  I am sooooo excited.  Way more excited than a person should ever be about an oven, but I am.  I don't hate my oven at all!  And I had other ideas for what I'd do when it had to be replaced (when it was at least a decade old) and replacing it with something similar was not part of that notion.  I like that oven just fine - it's a good oven.
• But I sure won't be using the self-clean function again.
• And that's what I know.  I'm ready for today to be done with.  We are taking a friend to the airport and will leave work a bit early to do so.  Which gives us plenty of time to do our grocery shopping tonight (we were originally planning to do that yesterday but the oven threw a wrench) and get the oven completely back together.  And tomorrow's a half day.  And then it's turkey day!  I'm so excited for turkey day.  I love turkey day the best, I think.  I think it's because of all the wonderful memories I have of working beside my mom as we got ready to serve sometimes up to 60 people in our family room or our beautiful backyard.  We almost always hosted Thanksgiving and I just love what the day always was.  Even the "bad ones" were still wonderful!!!
• You know, those ones where the oven doesn't work and the sink gets plugged up with potato peels because someone decides they can run those through the garbage disposer and and and...
• When you have your family and friends beside you...it just doesn't matter.
• Our guest list is up to 16 and still two possible more.  And possibly 4-5 more for desert.
• And a good football game at 7pm (central) time.
• And a wonderful "cold" front blowing through...
• It's shaping up to be a gorgeous day!

11/22/10: Back to work...again...

I went back to work on Thursday and thought I was over my last hurdle.

I also went to see my Dermatologist on Thursday and thought I was literally clearing that hurdle...although still dealing with it, too.

You know this, assuming you read last Thursday's blog.

What you don't know is that the antibiotic my Dermatologist gave me...was the antibiotic from hell!

I took my first pill Thursday night.  I was supposed to take 14 days of these pills, twice a day.  Thursday night, about half an hour after I took the pill, I wasn't feeling good, a bit queasy, to be specific, but nothing insurmountable.  And about half an hour after that, during which time I had been sitting and relaxing, I was fine and back up to my ping-pong self as we were packing and working on a potluck dish for Friday and fixing the oven and and and....

Yeah, I'll come back to that, don't worry.

So, fast forward to Friday morning and I take my morning pill.  And half an hour later, maybe twenty minutes, I'm queasy.  But this time, it continues to get worse.  And I went over to my bed and laid down.  In my work clothes with my hair done and my shoes on and me all ready to go.  And it continued to to get worse.  And my hubby comes to check on me, because at this time, we should be hitting the road.  And before I knew it, I was praying to the porcelain God.  And I continued to heave and hurl for about thirty minutes.  And it was painful heaving, too.  And it was the scary kind of 'OMG, what if my band slips?' kind of hurling and heaving, too.

Eventually the heaving and hurling stopped and I went back to bed and to sleep.  And three hours later I was still queasy and feeling like I'd been beat up by a big rig.  So, after calling to say I'd be late, I called again to say I wasn't going to make it.

I'm so sick of missing work!  In each of the previous two weeks I made it to work one day only.  That's not like me.  I know I've got a lot going on right now, a lot to deal with, a lot that's been thrown at me and us and we are dealing with it.  But my coworkers and boss depend on me and it's not like me to not be the dependable person they know me to be.  I'm so tired of it. 

I can say, with not taking the antibiotics from hell, with the painful cramps of the miscarriage mostly in my past, with the sinusitis beat and with life feeling like it's moving forward again, the absence from work is a thing of the past.

So.  To add to all of this...Thursday, at work, our secretary told me we were having our Thanksgiving luncheon on Friday.  Our company supplies the turkey and basics and we bring the veggies and deserts and whatnots.  So I signed up for broccoli rice casserole.  On the way home from work Thursday we bought all the stuff and went home and I went to work.  And with the rice steamed and the broccoli steamed and the onions and celery sauteed and the sauce mixed and all the above tossed together, it was ready to go in my already pre-heated oven.  Or so I thought.  Until I opened what should have been the hot oven door to discover a very room temperature oven.  I put my hand in there and felt nothing.  To be safe, grabbed a hot pad and pulled out the racks that were situated too high, anyway.  And then realized, I didn't need the hot pats, the oven really wasn't hot.  And then, to test the waters (stupid), I put my hand directly on the heating element.  And not a lick of heat to be felt.

So I pushed buttons and turned on the broiler...and nothing.

Yep.  The oven is.  DEAD.

And we are hosting Thanksgiving.  For a small group of 15 which, as of today, is growing by the hour.

I'm not entirely worried....yet.  We cook our turkey on the barbeque.  We just need the oven for all the side dishes.  And a couple of my neighbors are on the guest list so if we need to use neighborhood ovens, that's an option.

We bought a replacement fuse/thermostat on Friday in hopes that it was burnt out since I just ran a self-clean two weeks ago.  Yep.  Not the fuse.  The parts store we were working with convinced us that another fuse was likely to be a problem so we bought that next.  Turns out, our oven doesn't even have that fuse.  So hubby is taking the two heating elements in at lunch to have them tested for continuity.  And if it's not the elements, then we are just going to replace the oven.  If it's not the elements, it's probably the computer/control panel and that replacement cost puts us in new oven cost territory.  Then the question becomes, can we get the oven by Thanksgiving.  We would pick it up and install it ourselves.  And luckily, my hubby's step-dad, one of our Thanksgiving guests, is also on the invite list, so he can help us put the oven in on Weds when he arrives.  Assuming we can physically get an oven from a store in time.

I have to say, my house is 4.5 years old and all of the appliances that came with the house are therefore, 4.5 years old.  They were all the same brand (W*&%^Hirl^*&)%pool) and they have all been crap.  Our dishwasher doesn't drain during the normal cycle leaving us to hit the drain button three or four times after we've run a load.  Our oven shouldn't be shot this fast - and apparently it's a known problem that the fuse we replaced first burns out just about every other time the self-clean function is used.  Our microwave and our range are fine, so far, but two major appliances not right within four years of ordinary usage...just makes me say I will never buy another appliance of this brand ever again.  And this brand includes A LOT of other brands that are also supposed to be reasonable quality.  It's crap!

And that's what I know.

So, let's recap.

The cramps are mostly gone and I mostly feel like a human being again.  I'm very curious when I'll get back to "normal" as that will tell us when we can start trying again.  I have my follow-up appt with my Ob tomorrow morning and we have a few questions for him about why he wants us to wait for two complete cycles before we start trying again.  A lot of what I'm reading says that's primarily because that gives us time to heal emotionally.  It's not the physical they are worried about so much.  And if that's the case, "phooey on that" is what we say.  We had two weeks to "get used" to the idea that a miscarriage was happening and we can both pinpoint our stages of grief occurring over those two weeks and since the actual D&C.  I'm not saying "we are healed", but we have accepted, and that is huge.  To us.

The incision infection is not healing, at present.  Although my Dermatologist's resident just called me back (I called them Friday afternoon to tell them that particular antibiotic was not going to happen) and she told me what she thought they'd replace the antibiotic from hell with and told me to ignore the "take on empty stomach" labels.  I am not worried that this hurdle isn't being cleared, just a minor delay.  The resident will call me back again after she's actually talked to my Dermatologist, is what she said.

Our oven is busted and we are hosting Thanksgiving for 15 people.

I'm back at work and am appreciative that this is a short week and that traffic is negligible - all the kids are off school and a lot of people take the week off work, as well.  No brakes on the way to work is wonderful!

And that's what I know.

We went to Austin this weekend to visit my grandmother.  It is always so wonderful to get to spend some time with her.  I have the most amazing grandmother and love that we share our birthday (both born Aug 8 exactly 50 years apart).  It's always also wonderful to see my aunt and uncle.  It's crazy to us that Austin is so close and yet it's not easy to make the four hour drive to get to their house (or for them to get to us).  It's "just far enough away" that we don't do it as much as we'd like.

Anywho, have a great week, y'all!

*******EDITED at 12:04pm*******
It's official, the oven is dead.  The fuse we replaced - it really was dead.  So it wasn't bad to replace the fuse...however, the control panel is also shot.  And the price of a replacement control panel opens the door to a replacement oven.  Grr....

11/18/10: Back to Work

I'm back to work today.  I wish I could say I was back to work with no pain, but that's not true and I don't like to lie.

It's been an interesting non-day.  I went to see my Dermatologist for my follow-up this morning and to get the sutures removed.  That appt has made my day be a half day and I think that's worked well for a first day back.

I had the impression from the call I got yesterday that the idea of this being a microbaterial infection was out as "the culture showed no growth".  Well, apparently, the culture shows no growth yet is what my Dr. actually says (it was one of the residents that gave me the call yesterday).  And for the growth that my Dermatologist expects to see, it can be as long as eight weeks for something to appear.  He's so confident that is what this is that he went ahead and put me on antibiotics - the kind strong enough for most microbacteria.  With the pregnancy over and no reason not to, he kind of figured, let's just get it done so we can be that much closer to trying again when my body normalizes itself.

I go back again in four weeks for my next follow-up.  I have two weeks of this antibiotic ahead of me and then we'll regroup from there.  He thought we might have results by the time I go in again.  So we'll see how these antibiotics, do.

My husband went with me today as I am not going to let myself drive so long as I'm still taking vicodin.  He drove me and then we were going to head to work but we needed to run home to grab my cell phone (forgot it again) and we figured we'd go ahead and drop off the prescription for this new antibiotic so we can pick it up tonight.  He met my Dermatologist and he really liked him.  So much so that we immediately scheduled an appt for my hubby on the same day as and just before my next appt so that he can get some problem spots/issues looked at/addressed.  My hubby never wants to see a Dr. so the fact that he liked this guy speaks volumes.

And yet again, my Derm went on and on about how this case/situation is every Dermatologist's dream.  They deal with all the "boring stuff, like acne, skin tags, and sun spots in the hopes that someone like me will walk in with a true problem that is just so interesting".  I love that my Dermatologist loves me.  :)  I wish I didn't have to be dealing with this, though.  Like I said yesterday or the day before, though, I believe this guy is going to help me get to the bottom of all of this and help me get it resolved.

He commiserated with us for awhile on the miscarriage, too.  That was pretty sweet to both my husband and I.  I made the declaration that we won't be trying again until this issue is resolved - and he wants us to try again soon so he basically said he'll do what it takes to get me fixed ASAP.

It was a great appt.  I'll keep you posted if anything new happens or changes.  I'll be curious to see how I do with this antibiotic, apparently it can cause reflux and stomach issues and he was worried about how I might do with it with the band.

Other than that, it's back to work.  My hubby and I used my late arrival as a reason to go out to lunch with a colleague of mine that we are good friends with.  So we had a nice lazy long lunch which gave me a rather late arrival time.  And now it's just about time to go.  It's been a nice first day back.  Tomorrow will be good, too - we have a "knowledge share" followed by our Thanksgiving lunch - so it will be another long lunch.  And I'm in good shape to actually get some work working tomorrow, too.

Last thing I want to add/talk about is this club that I now seem to be a part of.  The miscarriage club.  It's a club I never wanted to join and I'm sure most other members don't want to be a part of it, either.  But I am finding such comfort in not being alone.  When somehow, for some reason, the topic comes up, I am amazed to learn of just who else this has happened to.  I am comforted by their stories and by knowing that my husband and I are not alone.  Each story I hear/read helps me to move forward.  That is something so totally different about this grief.  Losing my mom - I am not comforted at all when I hear of another person who lost their mother.  Losing friends, family, being raped, etc - never comforted by the "it happened to me, too" stories.  But this loss...it is strangely comforting and peace-giving to hear the stories of others.  I find that unlike many of the horrific things in my life that I just want to not talk about, this one, I actually do.  I want to hear the other stories, the other perspectives, the other situations and the end result.  I don't want to think of anyone else feeling sadness or disappointment over the dreams lost, that's not what I'm saying.  But, in one of the few instances where this happens, the club I never wanted to join is turning out to be my greatest comfort.

And just to give an update on the "I think my husband is mad at me" aspect of yesterday's blog, well, he assures me that while on Tuesday, he was mad at me, yesterday, he wasn't.  And while he did tell me he was mad at me on Tuesday, and he did talk about it, he didn't really get into the why.  And last night I got him to get into the why behind it.  And I think he was glad to talk.  Yes, the majority of what was going on was his sadness over the miscarriage and not being able to fix the pain for me.  He told me last night that I am very needy right now and it's understandable and he's happy to help me, but I guess he wasn't expecting this at all.  He knows it's the pain, as, over the weekend, before the cramps, I was not acting like this - and, like me, he never thought it would get worse later.

The pain is still there today but the bleeding has stopped.  So I hope that means that the cramps are going to be a thing of the past soon.

And that's all I know.

11/17/10: I Think...

I think

1. My husband is mad at me.  He was irritated with me all evening last night and when I really started to think about it, he had been irritated with me the few times we spoke on the phone through the day, too.
• When my husband is mad at me, he won't say what's bugging him.  He'll just treat me oddly.  Not badly, not disrespectfully, not anything negative.  Just different.  In the nearly four years that I've known him, when this odd treatment starts, it's up to me to get him to talk about what's bugging him.  Sometimes he "breaks" within minutues, sometimes hours, sometimes days.  It's never gone longer than six days.
• I'll say, "Sweetheart, what's the matter" and he'll say "nothing".  And it's in how he says "nothing" that I can put together that something most certainly is wrong.
• It drives me crazy that I have to do this.  But I also know how important communication is.  My parents were not open and honest with each other when I was a kid and it led to their divorce, eventually.  So I put everything out there, I let nothing fester.  Fred, on the other hand, was never asked what he thought or felt before I came along.  His parents still have not learned the value of open communication - even after their divorce for effectively the same reason as my parents.  My hubby's first marriage fell apart because his opinion was never valued by the first wife.
• Someday I want to thank her, if I ever were to meet her.  She screwed up big time.  My husband is an awesome husband.  His "worst" trait is that I have to beg him to talk to me about what's bugging him.
• He talks to me openly about anything and everything but when the something-bugging-him is about me, he clams up.
• It's funny, too, because when he eventually does talk to me about what's bugging him, it never leads to a fight or anything negative.  It always leads to him saying, 'dangit, I wish I'd talked to you sooner'.
• I am fairly certain that whatever is bugging him has to do with the miscarriage.  And I'm also fairly certain he wants to protect me right now.
• I am also fairly certain that his "protection" is leading me to feel stress and I will keep chipping away to find out "what's wrong".
• If I could take a guess about "what's wrong" it's that he's scared.  He wants to help me, to fix me, to solve this pain and he can't and it's bothering him.
2. The cramps aren't really cramps anymore.  Now it's just pain.  It's like the cramps have resolved and now it's just an achey soreness.  So on one hand, it, I, am feeling better.  Cramps are relentless and they don't care what position I'm in.  This soreness, on the other hand, I can get myself settled and get the pain to settle down a bit.  However, any sudden movement is not pleasant at all.  Cramps, on the other hand, it didn't matter...it just hurt.
3. I have to go back to work tomorrow.  This doesn't sound like fun to me. 
• On one hand (yes, I generally always have two), I'm looking forward to getting out of the house and doing something other than watching reruns on TBS.
• On the other hand, I have just spent the last twenty minutes sitting up so that I could eat lunch and now, type, and it's getting more and more painful as I go.
• I just took my last vicodin and didn't want to ask for another refill because I don't want to be on vicodin at work.  But I'm thinking I still don't have much of a choice there.
• I never thought this would be this painful.  I don't think I am a wuss when it comes to pain but I know I don't have the strongest pain threshold, either.  My mom used to say I did.  Fred has told me, in the past, that I can handle more pain than most.  But then something like this comes along and I'm left bewildered.  In general, pain isn't such a big deal for me, but maybe I'm just super sensitive to cramps and anything wrong in the nether regions.  Who knows...
4. I could not sleep again last night.  Too much pain again.  My husband wasn't snoring this time, though.  I eventually did fall asleep and I managed to sleep this morning until 11:30.  I'm ready to go back to sleep again...
5. My Dermatologist just called with results from the biopsy and culture of the skin punches they took last week.  They said the culture showed no growth, so that's good.  No infection.  So what is this then?  They said the biopsy, there were two - one showed a hypersensitivity and the other showed a keratoma.  So what is this then?  How to fix it then?  I go in tomorrow to get the stitches removed and I will be very curious to hear what they say now.  My Dermatologist was just about convinced last week that this was a microbacterial infection.  So now that we know it's not an infection...well...what is it?
6. My dog and my cat have an interesting situation going on.  So, at the foot of our bed, we have a chest.  My doggie jumps up on that chest to get on the bed because the bed is just a little too high for him to jump directly onto.  Well, my cat...my hubby thinks he's jealous of the dog...gets on that chest whenever he can to block my doggie from getting up to the bed.  If Tibby does manage to get on the chest before Topper can block him, then Topper will jump onto the bed and take a bite out of Tibby's leg.  It's rather hilarious.  This happens on a daily basis.  And Topper takes advantage of any situation he can when Tibby is suddenly off the bed and therefore at the mercy of the cat.  As I type, Tibby has been relegated to the floor and Topper is sprawled out across the chest. 
7. Yeah, those cramps I claimed had resolved leaving just an achey soreness in their wake..yeah...I was wrong.  Still cramping.
8. Grrr.
9. It's time to lie down....

11/16/10: Blogging

I just feel the need to type today and so this blog is probably going to be all over the place and about all kinds of things and maybe not the cheeriest of blogs, either.

So a bit of an update for y'all.  I had the D&C on Friday and was in and out with no problems.  Why is it so hard to find information on what to expect with a D&C?  I guess every woman's body reacts/behaves differently...and I sure have not been a "textbook case".  Friday I had cramping when I woke up but for the majority of the day, nothing.  I was groggy from the anesthesia but I was not in pain.  Nor was I bleeding, really, just very minor spotting.  Saturday, even less of the "very minor spotting" and if you'd asked me if I was feeling cramps, I would have said yes, but little did I know, I really wasn't.  Not compared to what was to come.  Sunday it was more of the same.

They gave me a prescription for methergine which is supposed to help stop the bleeding and, more importantly, help the uterus contract.  It can cause cramping.  So they gave me a prescription for vicodin to take along with it to help deal with the cramps they were sure were going to be there.

I was given 9 pills to take which took me through mid-day on Sunday.  And like I said, through the time I was taking that, if you'd asked me if I was having cramps, I would have said yes.

But...I'm thinking now...I barely barely barely was experiencing anything.

The spotting was completely over with on Sunday and the vicodin was so not needed.

Eight hours after taking the last methergine...that was when the cramps kicked in.  Bad.  I could not fall asleep Sunday night because of them.  And no amount of vicodin was helping.  In seeking relief I wound up taking 6 pills in the span of 4 hours and there was no help at all.

My poor husband....somehow, for some reason, his snoring was bad Sunday night.  He normally is not a snorer, usually it's more of a heavy breathing with very minimal nasal rattling.  Normally his breathing is actually a source of comfort to me.  Honestly.  But Sunday night...he was snoring.  Somewhere around 2am (after going to bed at 11pm) I was finally starting to dose off and just as I'd dose into something that might be real sleep, SNORT.  Finally, around 3am, in total exasperation because the pain was bothering me (to put it mildly) and because I was exhausted, I sighed an exasperated "Fred".  It came out louder and angrier than I ever intended it to - I was not angry with my husband at all and anger was not a factor in my exasperation, but that was what he heard.  He woke up and proceeded to keep himself awake for the rest of the night so that he wouldn't wake me back up.  He knew the cramps were bad but he didn't know I'd taken as many vicodin as I had looking for relief.

So yesterday, he woke up content to stay home with me to take care of me.  The high levels of vicodin were starting to work for me and I managed to finally get some sleep.  I called my Dr.'s office yesterday morning to tell what was going on as well as to see if I could get a sense for what normal is in the post-D&C process.

I also started to bleed "again" yesterday which is funny because all I'd ever really done was spot.  They decided that these are complications and who knows why but while it's all ok, nothing is wrong, per se, I am now on bed rest until Thurs.  I was concerned with having to take so many vicodin but I was assured, they won't kill me and keeping ahead of the cramps is important, so just take the pills. 

I find it interesting...for most women, methergine causes cramps and discomfort.  For me, it worked maybe a little too well.  Who knows what the experience would have been like without the little tiny pills at all.  I'm guessing with the cramps I am experiencing now...I don't want to know!  In doing some research Sunday night while unable to sleep and wondering how worried I needed to be, I came across a few things that said that methergine can cause the cervix to completely slam shut so that when the pills are stopped, and relaxing happens, it can seem bad. 

It's interesting to me sitting here stuck with cramps that are relentless....I just want to get on with life.  Ya know?  I want to feel better/normal and be not laying down or sitting around.  I want to not have this constant physical reminder of what was lost and what is not happening anymore.  It's irony to me that not only can I not have what I want, but I also have to be in pain and uncomfortable and limited in my activities. 

The grief that goes along with this is strange, too.  I once heard that the level of grief you experience after a loss is directly tied to how much your life changes after the loss.  And, in my experience, that's true.  When I lost my mom, that was pretty devastating.  I lost my mom and my best friend, my travel buddy and my favorite shopping friend.  I lost my greatest chearleader and supporter, my greatest pick-me-upper and laugh-beside- me person.  I lost so much.  My life changed drastically on the other side of that loss.  When it's someone you live with, spend your days and moments, special and mundane, with, it's a lot worse than when it's someone you see once a month.  Anywho, all this to say, that losing my mom, and then my dad and then my step-dad, those were all losses that were hard because my life did change a lot with each loss.  And there's so much more than what I'm talking about here, too.

This loss is so very different.  My life isn't different on the other side of the loss than it was before the loss.  I still wake up with the same people in my house that I did prior to this.  We still eat our meals together, commute together (hopefully soon), talk, relax, cook, exercise, etc. together.  Our habits, our lives, our routine - it's all still the same.  What was lost isn't/doesn't change my life.  I had to walk away from hopes and dreams and desires and wishes.  I had to stop thinking about the could-be's and what-if's and go back to the certain and real.

It's just so very bizarre.  I'm grieving because I lost something I never had. 

It's just so strange.

I think the funnies things I am experiencing are things like when a commercial comes on with a baby in it or about some baby toy that you must have, or about some baby food you must give your baby...I don't want to see it.  I can't believe the amount of commercials there are that are either for babies, about babies or have babies as the stars.  I can't change the channel to something else because the same commercials are there, too.  So I just look away, tune out, even just try to pretend like it's all ok.

I have heard statistics all over the place about this.  It ranges from 25% all the way up to 40% of pregnancies result in miscarriage.  That's insane.

My chances of a miscarriage when we try again are not higher because this pregnancy resulted this way.

That's good.

Our doctor told us something Friday morning just before the procedure that really made my husband and I feel like we'll be ok.  It was very comforting to hear and we both come back to this rather often when we need a pick-me-up.  Our doctor said he is very confident we'll get pregnant again and quickly because 1) we got pregnant on our own with no help and rather quickly after starting to try and 2) because my uterus "is absolutely perfect and my ovaries looked healthy and ideal".  I didn't realize when he did the last sonogram last week that the first part of what he was doing was confirming that the pregnancy was over and then he continued on to look at my uterus and ovaries closely to make sure things were ok.

News like that is one of those things...he didn't have to say anything - we weren't asking.  So to make that statement voluntarily as a part of the conversation we were having...just makes it that much more comforting to us.

We are funny.  We know that we have to wait until I have two normal periods, wait until the second normal cycle, basically, to start trying again.  We don't want a baby to be born in December, though, so we are not going to start trying again as soon as we can.  It could potentially be April before we start trying again.  We'll have to see how long it takes me to "get back to normal" really.

I hate cramps.  I have always hated cramps and I have always gotten particularly painful cramps.  Sadly, now these painful, awful, sometimes debilitating cramps are also going to be a reminder...

Not much else going on with me.  Drazil's guest blog for me was beautiful and I love that she wrote it for me.  I loved every single one of the comments and private emails I received, too.  I love the support of this community.

Something else that ties to all of this is my weight.  In nearly ten weeks of pregnancy I did not gain a single pound.  Since last Friday I have gained four but 1) I'm not even remotely worried about it and 2) I believe some of it is water retention because of the fluids given during the D&C and just the natural course of my body cleaning itself out.  I am not allowed to exercise or anything - not even walk - for the rest of this week.

I guess it's a lie to say I didn't gain anything in nearly ten weeks of pregnacy.  I actually lost two - without even remotely trying.  In fact, I'd say I was pretty much trying not to.  So, in effect, I am up two - and again, so totally not even remotely worried about it.

So that means I am at 204.  4 pounds from onderland.  I haven't been in the ones since 2004.  As I wait for my body to get back to normal (after I'm cleared next week to get back to my normal exercise routine) I want to go to work on my weightloss again.  My husband actually said he wants us to use this time for a personal (couple) challenge.  So I'm thinking about what I'm going to say I want to be at/do before we start trying again.  We looked at a calendar and if my body can get back to normal like the average woman does, then we will be ready to start trying again in February.  We looked at due dates for Feb conception and those work for us but then we'd take March off and go back to trying in April.  Anywho, I think I want to say I want to be in the 180's by February.  And 170's by April.

163 is the upper end of my target range.  It seems so far...but...onederland seems farther right now.

Have I ever told you before that I actually lose weight easily over the holidays?  Historically, I've always lost weight over the holidays and I always do it without trying.  And by without trying I mean I am eating all the cookies and candies that I make all along the way.  I am really looking forward to the holidays.  We will have a full house for Thanksgiving and while Christmas is up in the air - Are we home, are we traveling?  Are we with my family or with my hubbie's? - I know I am already getting the Christmas bug/spirit and I just can't wait.

I guess this is enough ramble for today.  For once, I'm not even going to reread it to check for typos (which always get through anyway) nor am I going to check for how it flows or readability.  It just is what it is.  Lots of random thoughts, some which tie together, some which don't.

The Hole in My Favorite Sweater

I asked Drazil at It's Just Me, Drazil & Sheniqua to do a guest post for me today.  I absolutely knew she could articulate my thoughts right now better than I could and, as usual, she does not disappoint.  I also knew that she would give me a message that would lift my spirit and, again, she does not disappoint.  I asked her to lift my spirits and while you may not be dealing with a miscarriage, I believe this post will lift your spirits, too.

Love you, Drazil!

The hole in my favorite sweater….


We’ve all heard the old cliché….time heals everything. Blech. When you’re in the middle of heart gripping pain and someone says those words to you – you want to crunch them up like a piece of paper and shove them down that person’s throat and light them on fire and watch. Well okay – a bit extreme – but still. You know what I mean. And yet in your heart you know – the person saying it is hurting too – and they have no idea what the hell to say so they say things over and over like….time heals everything.

And though I hate to admit it…this stupid cliché is true. It has been for me anyway. I’ve seen pain. Enough to last a lifetime. Death of people who have lived long lives until cancer took their very soul. Death of people just 22 who died by their own hand because I couldn’t stop them. Death of infants – perfect babies with 10 fingers and toes, born and dead within two weeks. Death of a baby not even born…my own…I wanted so badly. Unexplicable pain and death. And today? I’ve healed from every one of those deaths. And I’ve healed from a million other painful things too.

Time indeed – heals everything. And when time is done with its job – that’s when I think the reasons walk right in. It’s like we roll out the welcome mat for reasons…after we’re through with the pain. And though we heal, our hearts remain torn forever.

It feels like there is a physical, literal hole in our heart and no time can ever fill it or heal it completely. It’s almost like a hole in your favorite sweater…and your heart is the sweater. When you first realize it…man it pisses you off. How did it get there? Why? Why this sweater? Why not someone else’s sweater? And as time goes on you realize – dammit – hole or not – you’re keeping it. There are too many memories and good times and things wrapped up in that sweater and you can’t throw it out. It’s staying with you. So you keep wearing it. And some days you try to cover up the hole. You roll up the sleeve so no one can see it…yet you always know it’s there…hiding, making you angry or hurt – just below the cuff. It taints a special thing of yours and you hate that.

There are other days when you wear it proudly. Someone compliments your sweater and you make a point to say, “Look! It has a hole in it. And it’s still beautiful.” You go on to tell how the hole happened. How it made you feel. How it made you love your sweater even more. How you’ll never get rid of the sweater because it represents so much. And even though the hole is hard to look at it – the good that the sweater has brought you outweighs the bad in that hole a thousand fold.

That hole in your sweater – that’s the pain we suffer and again, the sweater is your heart. Over time there’s going to be more holes – some tiny, some large…but the beauty in the heart remains. You have to keep wearing the sweater…you have to keep risking your heart. Patches can be sewed on holes after all. You just have to learn how to sew.

I believe pain teaches us to feel joy. I believe without ever experiencing real pain and loss…we’d never know how to feel pure joy. We’d miss the significance behind things. And I believe many of us believe that when we experience pain – no one else can possibly feel what we feel. No one else knows the right thing to say. They say stupid things like “time heals everything” right? Wrong. It’s not stupid. People usually say that because they are coming from a place of knowing. If you can – try to listen. Hear what’s behind the cliché. Realize YOUR pain teaches that person something too.

When Lori miscarried recently – though I didn’t say to her out loud that time heals everything…..I said it in my head to her heart. And I know she heard me. She has the strength I haven’t seen a lot in my lifetime and though I know she’s been in pain – at the same time I know she’s completely alright.

Through her pain, one of the holes in my sweater got a little smaller once again. I miscarried once too. In that moment you lose a baby – but you also lose hope, dreams, and a family – and it opens a hole you think will never close. But it does. And even I found a reason and Lori reminded me of that.

Last night thinking of what I wanted to write for Lori today….I sat in the chair in our living room. I looked over at the brightly lit Christmas tree we had just put up that afternoon. It was dark now and the whole room seemed to glow. And as my eyes went down the tree….there, under it, laid my 5 year old, Banana. Quiet. Just laying there. Under the tree on the hard floor – looking up – in awe at the colors and the glow and the beauty that is Christmas to a child. And I caught my breath in my throat.

Like a ton of bricks it hit me.

If we hadn’t have miscarried….there would be no Banana. We kept trying and had Banana BECAUSE we miscarried.

Would I take back the pain of the miscarriage if I had to give up Banana?

Well, I think you all know the answer to that. I’ll keep Banana. And I’ll keep the tiny hole in my favorite sweater that baby I never had represents.

So Lori….your little baby never born and the pain it caused you and your husband….well little did you know it taught another mother across the country the reason for her similar pain years ago.

And cemented the fact that indeed – time does heal everything. This is my wish for you too…..

11/11/10: I wish...

Well, as you may have noticed, I've gone pretty quiet lately.  Not commenting, not blogging, not even really lurking.  I'm afraid the reasons behind this are not good.  At least I don't think they are...

It was confirmed yesterday that my pregnancy has resulted in a miscarriage.  I am scheduled for a D&C very very early tomorrow morning.

Not much else I'm going to say there.  It's rough, it sucks, it's not our dream come true - but my hubby and I are doing alright.  I think he puts it best "we are disappointed but not discouraged".

On top of that, I am fighting sinusitis and bronchitis right now.  I have been sick as a dog for the last two weeks.

On top of that, my dermatologist believes that the "cyst" is a microbacterial infection.  Given how it looked on Monday with the steroid completely out of my system, he was pretty confident this time.  He took a couple of skin punches to do both biopsys and cultures and I should get the results next week when the stitches are removed.  At least, I'll get the results from the biopsy - he said the results from the culture, if it's a microbacterial infection, will take about a month to be meaningful.

So with that, I'm officially done with my surgeon.  Now I just have to look for a new one and pray to God that he/she will take me on as a patient.  I'm scared that already being banded by this jackass will mean I have no options.  I have to do something else, though.  I don't blame my surgeon for this infection, but his inability to make it a concern when it so obviously has infiltrated every single one of my incisions is troubling.  And I know my derm is reporting this whole thing.  I'm not asking him to and I'm actually staying out of it but that is a bit of bittersweet satisfaction for me to know that my surgeons negligience is not going unnoticed.

So, the past two weeks have been hard.  Coming to terms with the baby not growing, not developing, the heart not beating "properly" and then finally hearing confirmation yesterday has been hard to say the least.  My hubby and I pretty much knew walking into the appt yesterday but that didn't make it any easier to hear.  It did feel like the first step to closure and I know that tomorrow's procedure will certainly be a big step towards closure.  But to know that I will never meet my first child is absolutely heartbreaking.  No way around that one.

I hope things are much better for you and I look forward to the day when my life can get back to "normal".  No sick, no infections, no shattered dreams.  That's all I want right about now....

11/2/10: I bet you thought I fell off the face of the planet

Can you believe that I have gone so quiet?  I can't.  But then...I am not quiet ever...so even though I've not been blogging, I'm still making plenty of noise.

But here's an update.

1. I went to a family wedding about a week and a half ago and I felt sooooo very loved!  It was my hubby's cousin that got married and we decided to share our news since we won't see the family for Christmas this year.  The response and the happiness for us just completely touched my heart.  It was amazing. 
2. I seriously hate my surgeon.  I thought I was getting over the hatred because his treatment and personality, lately, were such that I could say, yay, he's my surgeon.  But nope.  Even after telling him "I'm pregnant" he proceeded to prescribe something for me that could very seriously harm the baby.  I specifically asked him if what he was giving me was ok and he said "sure".
1. So he decided back in October that the cyst was not a cyst, afterall, but was probably dermatitis.  Claimed that it's not uncommon for incisions to be more sensitive to laundry soaps and body washes.  So he decided to not cut out the cyst (good) and prescribed said problematic cream that my ob/gyn last week said "STOP TAKING THAT RIGHT THIS VERY INSTANT".
2. That cream had been working.
3. Now that I'm not taking the cream, the "problem" is coming back.
4. So yesterday I called my dermatologist figuring maybe I could get an appt later this week or next week.  They had something available yesterday - and I was home sick.  So I took that appt.
5. My dermatologist thought this was amazing and proceeded to have every other dermatologist in the practice take a look and give an opinion.  Five different Dr.'s and all five thought
1. could be a GA
2. could be foliculitis
3. could be a microbacterial infection
4. could be something "worse"
6. Now I am supposed to let more time pass so as to get the prescription from the surgeon completely off my skin and out of my system and go back to see them next week.  They will probably do a culture and a biopsy next week.  They all noted the buildup of scar tissue at the place where this thing spent so much time "open" was very troubling.
7. And they all noted they can't believe my surgeon didn't do something more to figure out what's going on.  They wanted notes on name, practice, etc and I believe they might go somewhere with this information once we get to the bottom of it.
8. My Derm did tell me at the end of the appt that it is very treatable and to not be worried.  We just have to get to the bottom of it and with that prescription cream not quite out of my system yet, it could/would change culture and biopsy results, too.
3. I will seriously hurt my surgeon if my baby has a cleft pallet - which is what the cream is known for doing.
4. So, went in last week for ultrasound number 1.  Presumed to be seven weeks along.  Growth of the baby is not where it was expected to be.  So we are going back again this week to make sure growth is twice that of last week.  So long as it is, then everything is fine.
5. Our ultrasound tech did just about everything "wrong" in that appt that she could and so my hubby and I were sufficiently freaked out when we left.  Went straight home and called my cousin who is an ob/gyn.  And she was able to tell us all the positives based on what we knew.  Shape of the yolk sack was indicative of a good healthy pregnancy.  Size, heartbeat, etc, all pointed to me being a week "earlier" than one might expect.  She thought that all sounded well.  She said the notion of them putting me on progesterone is something they've quit doing in her practice - it won't hurt me or the baby but it's not doing anything, either.  She gave me some tidbits on prenatals as the one I chose as my favorite has been discontinued.  I am taking the one she liked the best now.  And we also talked about the amniocentesis debate.  My age says I should.  But will we do anything with the news?  Other than do our research and be prepared, no.  So why go through the risk...I can just do the research and be prepared.
6. I got my Texas A&M class ring resized and refinished.  It's down a size and a half!  It was nerve-wracking as I had to "send the ring in" and hope that it worked out well.  Just got the ring back and it fits perfectly!    In getting it refinished...they actually had to make me a whole new ring!  All for the price of shipping.  I love lifetime warranties!
7. What else.
8. Did I tell you I hate my surgeon?
9. Like seriously, I don't even want to get fills there anymore.
10. Oh yeah, cause...the last three or four times I was in for a fill or an unfill or dealing with this open wound thing...I would ask what my balance was.  I had paid half what I owed for surgery on the day of and was paying $100 on that balance each time I went in, plus my copay.  Well, they'd always say the only thing they can do is "count up how many payments I've made" and subtract that from my signed agreement price.  Finally, when I was there for the cyst removal (which luckily didn't happen now that we know it's not a cyst) they said, if you really want to know, call this number, it's the corporate office.
1. Corporate says, "what?  Of course they can check your balance.  We're gonna have to look into that."  And then she pulls up my account and says "hold on, something's wrong here, let me call you back".  I give her my number and we hang up.  After about five minutes, she calls me back.
1. "Yeah, we owe you $1080.00"  You don't owe us another penny and you should not have to pay another copay for the rest of the year.
2. Because of what they owed me...I shouldn't have been giving them a dime since May.  I had surgery in April!  That's how many overpayments there were.
11. So I hate my surgeon.  And I hate the front office staff.  All that's left is the RNP's.  And I hate one of those three, too.
12. I seriously want to be done with that office but that means finding someone else for fills.  We'll see what we see...
13. What else.
14. I have a cold right now.  I'm miserable.  Since I can't take any true "cold medicines" but have to take things piecemeal...it's just not the same.  Dayquil always works so well for me...and I can't take it.  Whah!  My "worst" pregnancy symptom is dizziness, so far, and this cold is making the dizziness a gazillion times worse!  Whah!
15. And that's about all I got.
16. Please pray for us that the baby's growth is where it should be based on what we saw last week.  We did see a heartbeat but it was slow.  If we were watching the heartbeat on the day it started, then we are fine, but....        It's so easy to get scared with this but my hubby and I are doing pretty good with staying upbeat about it all.  My cousin's words meant a lot to us.  Still, I think prayers are always great!