Congratulations! It's looking like a healthy baby!

    This morning couldn't have come at a better time....the grueling weekend has taken its toll on all of us awaiting this ultrasound. For me, I just wanted to see a beating heart, but for my husband the image on the screen made this whole situation seem real....I've come to realize. When he saw the healthy little Ness, he placed his hand over his mouth and took the imagery all in with amazement.
   Our appointment was better than routine...the nurses were so excited to see us back for this happy time! There were giggles, big smiles and hardy congratulations darting our way through the whole office. They are such a supportive team and have always given me a warm feeling when I've gone in for my check-ups since our loss. They were very compassionate during our loss as well, despite seeing that circumstance many times over with different folks.
   After hearing that our little peanut had the heartbeat of a micro champion and that no special worries were reserved for us, that we should continue business as usual, we took a stroll and soaked up the moment with healthy smoothies in the sunshine. "I think I want to tell everyone," he exclaimed. I said he could do as he chooses and smiled.
   In his safe, he still has the pregnancy test from our lost baby...the only positive confirmation he had from that pregnancy. He also has the positive pregnancy test from our rainbow baby and has taken looks at it daily since I gave it to him. Today was special for him and one step closer. He held in his mighty hands the photos from our ultrasound for minutes on end. It is real, it is good, it is hopeful, it is happening.
   Oftentimes, everyone forgets about the hopeful dad that is eagerly awaiting the baby and many times his wounds are invisible to the world only thinking about the momma clenching her empty belly after loss. Dads long for their babies just as much as moms do.
   My husband is a solid rock for me....he never let on how truly worried he was about this appointment, he remained positive and steadfast, downright joyful....but he's been sleeping like a bear for two hours since we've returned from our joyous obgyn appointment to see our little Ness on the big screen.

Life in this exact moment

   We've entered the 8th week of pregnancy....feeling a bit more awful, tired, and crabby and I don't mean to be.....honest! I was thrilled to find myself at 8 weeks and then I proceeded to get sleepy and tummy turned. Last week I found an app that allows you to hear your baby's heartbeat through your iPad and I'm so small we could hear it! The conveniences of modern technology! This fun activity helped the time go by when our silent nerves would creep in. But if I had my way, I would have it on constantly, to keep reassuring me I'm not living a fantasy. Something to ponder: to Doppler or not Doppler, that is the question.
   Our kids' baby elation has quickly turned into as barrage of Q and A whenever they see me. "How are you feeling, mom?" ..."are you eating enough, mom?"..."Did you sleep well enough?".  It's usually when I just feel like being quiet,  so again I appear cranky with my answers.... Incidentally, I love you Sum, Jo and Keira.
   We've been doing so well keeping positive and upbeat about this pregnancy. We've already settled on our baby lifestyle ...you know, cloth or disposable, breast or bottle, minimalist versus extravaganza, crib, cradle or hammock, vaccination schedules for pregnancy and beyond. We've even picked names. I've been feeling pretty well so it was easy.....and then today hit. I basically slept all day yesterday until work. I felt awful, tired, sick. No cramps .... so far. This morning I had a slight tinge of color on my tissue and a full body sweat erupted. Not again. Panicked beyond control, I slinked off to our bed and said I never wanted to leave it again for a long time and I just wanted to drop off the planet. My loving husband held me and coaxed me to use the Doppler. Thankfully, I found the tiny racing heartbeat and our minds were eased for the time being. I've had nothing beyond that one incident and nothing more to trouble me so far. It could've been anything, time will tell.
   Our ultrasound is in four days and I am living for that small goal. I just want us to be able to see a healthy baby on that screen. Lots of times, that ultrasound is the harbinger of bad news for parents like us. It's the moment they find out they will be expecting a miscarriage. But I believe in moments of joy.  I have to!
   I never realized how courageous we truly are. When I first told my cousin about our pregnancy, the very first thing she said to me was how courageous I am in all that I do, and especially with this. There are moments that can literally take the breath out of me when I'm not feeling strong in my pregnancy....when I'm hearing about other people's due dates, their happy nonchalant pregnancies, or how they just blindly know things will be fine. I've experienced the horror story and come to realize that I still have to fight the urge of being in control....that Google is of absolutely no comfort to me ....that sometimes all I  can say is "at this exact moment, this exact time, the baby and I are doing fine."

Pregnancy After Loss Isn't For Wimps!

   Two little blue lines showed up! We are pregnant and elated! It's been a long road of ups and downs and curves and we finally got those two little tiny blue lines on the stick! We couldn't wait to share our news with our family! With mostly positive responses, we truly savored this moment....and then my nerves settled in. Pregnancy after loss isn't for wimps! The lesson this week: enjoy each day.
   I guess I should start by telling a little background....we have been pregnant before. We were that happy family, you know the innocent ones - making plans for the future and thinking of how things were going to be. Thinking about the activities we would be sharing with our little bundle, planning the first years. We have three older children already and they were excited that a little bundle would be joining us. We were literally three days from that scary window of the first trimester.
    I hadn't been feeling well that weekend but I was alright and then I started spotting, nothing significant at first. Bed rest it was. But the bleeding got worse, until it became bright red and within an hour I was in the emergency room with our aborted 11 weeks and four day old pinkish baby lying motionless on a tray, my eldest daughter who had to drive me by my side. A brief moment later, my husband rushed in to me and I silently cried. We all did. I felt utterly betrayed by my body, my belief system, by the world. We left the hospital that night in a fog of shock and disbelief. December 9, 2013, will be in our memories forever.
   I know our child got to be 11 weeks and four days because that's what I was told at our follow up appointment. My doctor explained that I was one of the unlucky ones because she had no conclusive answers for us on why this happened. All the tests they ran on the baby as well as myself came up with nothing abnormal....not that it would have helped my demeanor anyway. I had just experienced sitting in a waiting room with bellies for 45 minutes because my appointment was pushed back. "There ought to be a law," I joked in my head trying to get through this moment. It was emotionally grueling. As were the following weeks after the loss. Awkward conversations, people literally feeling my tummy or staring at it at the very least, those statements that are meant to make you feel better but really just sound as dumb as if you are telling a parent of a deceased five-year- old that at least they still have their other children....just smile and wave and exist and move on.
   I went home after that happy to know I was alright, but the void was still there. My body didn't want to believe the pregnancy was gone, in fact, for the next two months I was still setting off those two blue lines. My doctor said the hormones would disappear on their own, my body was in limbo and we just needed to wait it out. Taking those tests became the weekly ritual. I longed for my baby and silently cursed every time I heard someone complain about being pregnant. My husband and I had many great talks about it because he could understand how I felt, he lived this with me.
      My husband coped by focusing on how lucky he was that I was healthy and fine. This scare was never going to happen to us again, it was too risky. We couldn't do this, it's too much of a gamble. Our other children are not his biologically, but it didn't matter. From the moment he got to know them, they were his. They legally took his name June 5, 2014, after months and months of paperwork. Things were going all of our way and why rock the boat. The divorce rate alone on parents that suffer a loss is a staggering 86%, according to recent findings. We were lucky in that respect. Our communication skills really got us through those dark passages we would find ourselves in.
   Our family got stronger. We started having fun again, especially after I started to feel like myself again. We laughed. We loved. We cried. We laughed some more. We dreamed. Our kids would begin to drop hints that they wanted another sibling. They got to the point they would demand it. "What are you two doing out of your room? Get back in there!"
   With assurance from the doctor, we forged forward with our proverbial shields and swords wielded.....and six months went by with nothing. Every month was a negative test, every month was a bust. We finally gave up on the notion. My husband and I enjoyed a stay in Scotland and vowed to go back and stay a while. Life was great! I had recently had an art show and published a book. Could things get any better? We have everything we need so quit longing for what you don't have, we would tell ourselves.
   And then I noticed my period didn't come, a week over due. With a deep breath and clenched eyes I peeked at the activated test...positive! Rain baby rain! After a few days of elation, it started. The panic of the bad....checking the toilet tissue for color every time I relieved myself, watching my dog's behavior to see if she was still protecting me, making sure I was still feeling pregnant, clamming up. My husband came to my rescue immediately. He made me realize we needed to celebrate! We are going to celebrate every day, every moment of morning sickness, every pound I gain, every milestone and week that passes by. We are savoring every moment! We've dreamed of this moment too much to let our fears take away our joy. We will celebrate the miracle of life growing in my belly! Positives abound for this tiny momma!