Wednesday, July 14, 2010

They Paved Paradise & Put Up A Parking Lot

So my little snowflakes are doing exactly what they are supposed to be doing. Granted, I don't know how many are in there, but since two went in, and I have cramps on both sides of my uterus, I just sort of assume that they both decided to stick around.

From what I hear, FET betas tend to be on the low side, but this has not been the case for me. Yesterday's blood work was all very good, thanks to the prayers and good vibes you have been sending my way. My Beta was 9158 (I am doubling every 1.8 days instead of every 2-3 days), Progesterone 39.9 (this huge jump may be due in part to the fact that I had to double up on shots two nights ago because of a needle malfunction), and Estrogen 393. Even though my estrogen numbers look good (they wanted them over 200), the Doc is continuing me on 4 patches per day, and my 1.5 cc's of Progesterone is staying the same, too.

Next Tuesday I go in for more bloodwork (I think just estrogen and progesterone at this point) and then Wednesday is the ultrasound when I get to see my little snowflake or snowflakes.

Please keep those prayers coming!

I have been walking around for the last few weeks with the song "Big Yellow Taxi" in my head. I don't know how it got in there, and even less so how to get it out. The lyrics "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got till it's gone. They paved paradise and put up a parking lot" are stuck on repeat in my mind.

Lying in bed the other morning, having woken up to those words AGAIN, I got to thinking, and it hit me - I am the parking lot.

Bear with me on this one...

Before Peyton's birth/death, when I was happy in all aspects of my life (marriage, job, self, pregnancy, family, friendships, outlook, health) my world was paradise. Though I didn't realize it at the time, it was.

And then came Peyton's birth and death, and that paradise was violently dismantled and torn down.

I became just a heap of rubble, and stayed like that for a long time - probably a year.

That was the year I didn't brush my hair. The year of daily hours long visits at the cemetery. The year I accumulated so many lines around my forehead and eyes that I aged ten. The year that every smile was a lie.

As time progressed, I slowly started to rebuild. Things around me began to rise again - "a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swinging hot spot", and a new foundation for my life, a life after loss, was poured like asphalt as a parking lot.

At the end of the day, I am a poor replacement for what I once was - full, blooming, beautiful. As "paradise" I was untouched, undisturbed, and naive. I was innocent. In falling, that was lost.

Sometimes I get caught up on missing paradise, but then I remind myself that I have to look to the future and see that even as a lousy old parking lot, I have come a long way from that heap of rubble I once was.

I have come a long way, and I have a long way to go.

I wanted to let you all know how much I appreciated your messages of support regarding my pregnancy fears. I wish I could say they have calmed down, but I would be lying.

There are worries that I think all pregnant women feel - analyzing every cramp. Saying a little prayer with each trip to the bathroom. And then there are other worries. Those that are born of the unique situation of being pregnant after your only child has died.

These are the worries that can be debilitating.

I keep thinking, if I did so much right for Peyton in that pregnancy, and she still was born so ill, that I have to find some way to do a hundred times more to protect these little ones. My appetite is suffering greatly because I can't help but wonder with each spoonful of food, whether or not I have done a good enough job of checking the ingredients on my lentil soup or rice mix to be sure that no ugliness like MSG has slipped in under a different name.

I can't tell you how much it irks me that the FDA allows food companies to use misleading names like "Yeast extract" for MSG on packages. Where do they get off? I shouldn't have to do a full out investigation just to know what I am putting in my body. Even more frustrating is that some of the organic products that I have purchased from the health food store, too, have these misleading labels.

I know there are some who may read this post and label me a loon who has gone overboard obsessing about what I eat, but those people (for the most part) have never had their daughter ripped from their body and then learned mere minutes later that though she was pink, and beautiful, and perfect, she had cancer and was going to die.

That being said, this place has always been a space of honest expression for me, and I would rather write what I am truly thinking and feeling, even at the risk of drawing some judgments from others, than censor what I share here.

Even I, a woman of many, many words, cannot sum up appropriately how terrifying it is to live in fear of cancer. Witnessing what Peyton went through was horrible, and ugly, and the threats of this terrible disease seem to be everywhere.

In some way or another, it seems, every item we come into contact with has had some study linking it to cancer - canned food, body lotions, makeup, deodarant, soda, household products, charred bits of meat, potato skins, the list goes on and on and on.

I am afraid.
So very, very afraid.

I used to brush these warnings off. I used to say things like, "yeah, but you would have to eat SO MUCH of it to have any effect," and then I watched chemo deplete my daughter of her immune system, and a fungal infection take over her being, and her die in my arms, and that argument lost its weight with me.

So here I sit, pregnant with two little snowflakes who I love so much, trying, trying, TRYING with all I have to be a healthy vessel and give them the best of everything so that they can come into this world healthy and happy and normal, and there are meth-heads abusing their bodies and birthing  beautiful healthy babies that they don't care for or appreciate, and I have to tell you, it just seems so, so unfair.

Why should these people be entitled to getting off scott free? Why aren't they the ones affected by infertility?

Why does it seem that all of the tough lessons of loss are only reserved for those of us who so love and want our babies?


I have been thinking about Peyton alot lately. Not that that is any different, but thinking about what she would be like as a nearly two year old, and those thoughts just break my heart for her again.

I think about dressing her up, and watching her promptly get messed up. I think about her playing with our friends' daughter, Caitlyn, born a few months before she was, and how at this age they would be talking with real words, and some bits of sentences, and have their very own bond of friendship.

I think of what it would be, to have a full pregnant belly, with big sis looking over it, and it hurts.

She was robbed.
We were robbed.

I can't imagine that any amount of blessings can every bring peace to the portion of my heart reserved solely for her.

And so I sit here and I wonder how any of this can be possible?

How I can be so petrified, and excited, and heartbroken, and overjoyed all at once?


  1. I think fear is such a normal response. It is so hard to live in a world where the "impossible" happened to you. Now, everything seems possible. Babies die. Just yesterday I refused to go into a petting zoo for fear of what diseases those animals might carry. It wasn't worth the risk.
    I am not sure what else to do but wait it out. Praying for you, and your snowflakes...

  2. Thinking of you often and still praying.

  3. You don't sound crazy at all, especially considering all you've been through. I can't offer any advice (I've only lost a daughter--and I won't even try to compare that to your situation because I know they are so very different). But I assume I'll be the same way when/if I get pregnant again.

    Just wanted to come by and let you know you've been in my thoughts and prayers a lot (even though I now have that song stuck in my head--thanks a lot!)


  4. I think of you so very often. Whether it is one or two snowflakes, they will be so loved!!

  5. I told my counselor this just last week...that I wasn't UNhappy right now...but I certainly don't think that completely happy was appropriate either--how could it be when my precious little boy's body is in a grave?

    I told her that I now thought of happiness as a thermometer----if 100 is the highest level of happiness EVER, long as Matthew's dead (and that's not changing), I won't ever hit that 100 again. Ever. It's not possible. But it doesn't mean that I won't get to 95 or even 99 and still be UTTERLY thrilled with a wonderful moment or day or period of extreme happiness regardless. The same goes for 0 being the depths of despair. As long as I have this sweet little one growing inside of me (and I pray outside of me too for a long, long, long time), even though it doesn't make sense with Matthew gone, I'll never be able to hit 0 again because of new birth and new life and new hope.

    Those are such conflicting feelings and yet so intense at the same exact time.

    I HATE cancer. We lost my mother and John's dad with NO history of cancer in either family and it has terrified us for the last 7 years. It's unpredictable, it's unfair and it's brutal. I never look at the picture of your sweet girl without just feeling SO ANGRY that such a disease even exists...and that so many suffer.

    Can't wait to hear about your ultrasound results!!!

  6. I think that is the contradiction that is motherhood after infertility or infant loss. That while your heart will sore with joy, a part of it will always belong to the baby/ies lost and nothing will ever change that. Time will make it easier to bare but it will never fully leave you.

  7. live in the naive world we once were in where babies don't die..I did have a healthy son before Ella, and so when we found out she was sick, I was comparing what I did and did not do with Cayden and Ella..Was it the colic medicine, was it the tylenol I took with her?? etc etc..We just need to rationalize it all 'away'..we as moms need to fix and correct things for our children, keep them safe by any means..but with Cancer,in my case mitochondrial disease, its not fair, we were robbed and they were certainly robbed of their chance..big ((hugs)) and love and prayers to you and your snowflakes

  8. I understand your fears. I have dealt with similar issues. I wish there was something I could say to help you relax. I know the stress and worry can be hard on your babies and you. I sure hope that you find peace.

  9. Your post brought me to tears. I will keep you and your snowflakes in my thoughts and prayers. I can't imagine anyone labeling you a "loon" after all you have been through. *hugs*

  10. I check in on your blog often, but hardly comment. doesn't mean I don't think of you and yours often though. =). anyway, glad to see an update and CONGRATS on the pregnancy!

  11. You are not crazy, you have every right to be fearful. You have been through so much. You were most definately robbed, it breaks my heart everyday.
    In this blog world we are all a tight community, some of us held a little bit more closely for whatever reason. You my dear hold such a special place in my heart. I pray for you everyday, I have cried reading your posts because they touch my heart so much. I wish we could be naive and just enjoy life again but that is not so. I am not pregnant (yet) and I am so scared already. I often wonder will I even be able to enjoy another pregnancy? I have even asked myself if I can honestly do it again. Wait I got off track here,lol... My point is that your fears are only natural unfortunately. All I can say is that I hope soon you will be overcome by peace so that you may be able to enjoy every minute of the beauties in your womb. I wish nothing but the best for you and your hubs. Praying, wishing and hopeing for the best. ((HUGS))

  12. You sweet thing. Praying you have healthy babies at the end of all this. No other comment, just tears.

  13. "How I can be so petrified, and excited, and heartbroken, and overjoyed all at once?"

    I wonder this each & every day. It amazes me how many emotions I can feel all at once. I wish I had some answers for you...for me.

    Looking forward to next Wed. regarding one or two snowflakes :)

  14. that is such great news about your BETA lvls i am so so so happy, and i hope both decided to stick around to,
    ill be checking in all the time to hear about your stories i hope you have 2 snowflakes there that would be so cool :)

  15. Krissy, I hope you know how often I think of you and pray that everything is going well. Reading your blog brought tears to my eyes...I have not been through anything like you and yet I still have all these fears too...should we become pregnant, which is seeming unlikely at this point. The testing has begun...I will keep you posted.

  16. I could comment on so many aspects of this post. You simply had me nodding along the whole way. I understood every word, every single of them (even though cancer was not something I was faced with).
    You'll get through this. I don't know how or why, but you just will. You have survived so much worse, and you can survive this. And so can those gorgeous snowflakes. If you can't have hope for yourself, which is understandable, I'll have it for you.
    Love Sally
    ps: especially loved the line "the year that every smile was a lie". Know that feeling well.

  17. Your loss of your sweet Peyton fills my heart with so much hurt. I'm just so, so sorry. I agree, it's not fair, it shouldn't happen. I wish she could be here with you to celebrate and enjoy this pregnancy. I just must believe that she is in heaven celebrating (even though I know that it would be much better if she were here).

    I'm excited that your snowflake(s) are doing so well. I think of you and your story often. My prayers are with you.

  18. I'm so glad your numbers are good - I am just so, so happy for you! I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers this week. I'll be excited for an ultrasound update.

    I think fear will always be with me now - even if I end up with a healthy baby in my arms one day. I've learned that there are absolutely no guarantees - and I'm sorry to say I've learned it in very hard ways. I know you have too. And once you feel that vulnerability... there's no going back to the way we used to be.

    Now, that said, we're still here. We carry on. We have hopes and dreams still with us. We do what we need to do to try and fulfill those desires. For me, I have to make a conscious effort to push the fear and the worry aside. Some days I am better at it than others.

    I wish I could wave a magic wand and guarantee us all the things our heart wishes for. But since I can't, please know I keep you in my thoughts ((Big hugs))

  19. I'm thinking of you and praying. What you are feeling is classic to any pregnancy after a loss but, I imagine, it is magnified immensely by the horrific loss you went through with Peyton. {{{Hugs}}} and love coming your way.

  20. Pregnancy after loss is just so damn complicated. I'm so sorry. Sending you much love, strength, hugs... whatever you need to get through this.


  21. How could you feel anything but what you feel? When you know can't forget it. You know I've had 5 happy beginnings that have yet to end. But knowing that you can lose a beautiful perfect baby...whether for "no reason" or ANY reason....changes how you feel about it all. The paradise changes. My sister in law is pregnant. I'm so happy for her. And terrified. I used to teach natural childbirth classes....I taught positivity...I didn't know that bad things happened to so many. I do now.

    But sweet lady...your snowflakes....I believe in their lives! I believe you will build snowmen and women together. You have a right to be afraid....and as a mother I can tell you, your protective spirit won't end after their births. Every day....every single will see their precious hearts and bodies and want to protect them. And you will do the very best you can. And they will love you for it. Just as Peyton loves you for it. It's not your fault that she died. ((HUG)) It just SUCKS. Horribly.

    I wish we lived closer to each other....I'd so love to hug you in person. I think of you as one of my dear sisters in life. A sea turtle mama. Your snowflakes WILL make it. ((HUG)) Because they just HAVE to. ooxxxoooxxx

  22. I wonder how all those emotions can be within me all at once. It doesn't seem humanly possible to handle all of that. But, somehow, we live it. I pray that your snowflakes continue to grow. I am so happy for you.

  23. Its disgusting how much shit is in everything around us! There is a cosmetic data base that tells you how toxic your products are, very scary! I am with you, I have rid my house of plastic, canned items I found out that tomatoes have the highest amts of BHP, and many other things I never thought could harm my unborn children, but do. I could go on and on I have become obsessive.
    Many positive thoughts to you and your snowflakes!