Mmmm... Free Coffee

Over the summer our company installed coffee machines all over the building. They're the type where you insert a packet and it "brews" you a single cup of coffee. It's Flavia if you're familiar with it. The kicker is that we got all this free coffee instead of more vacation time, because people are such lame workaholics here that they never take vacation and it piles up. So everyone must not like to take vacation. So why not give people free coffee instead of time off? Sounds great, huh? I've never been much for drinking coffee so I didn't really care for it, I'd rather have more time off. (Actually I'd just rather not be working, but we already know that.) But recently I've started to drink it. I got hard core and brought in my own mug from home so I can walk around with it and sip from it while talking to people. I feel so grown up. I make a cappuccino several times a day, mostly decaf, but with a regular in there occasionally. It's yummy. What the heck, right? It's free. It keeps me warm in the cold office and with my nasty cold it's keeping me from coughing too much.

I feel like I might as well get my money's worth, right?

Uphill Battle

My husband is still travelling for work. It's a couple days here and a week and a half there. Soon it will be over, only 2 more weeks on this project. I had been enjoying our time apart, I could stay up late and sleep in, I could watch TV or movies and eat whatever I wanted or do nothing at all. But now it's dark out early, it's gotten cold and I came down with a cold last week. I miss having him to snuggle up to at night. I'm getting tired of doing everything around the house.

I started reading stuff for my new job at work. I hope it will be interesting. I don't especially care, but I hope it will be interesting to pass the time quickly until I get pregnant and just might get to take a baby home. I'm tired of pretending to be an engineer.

Carol invited me to a seminar she's coordinating, she asked me to be on the Parent's Panel. That sounds so weird to me. I don't feel like a parent. I don't feel like a mother. I sure don't feel like a mom. I went back and forth in my head about whether or not I should go. I didn't want to because I dread sitting there crying the whole time, not being able to tell my story through my sobs. But I decided I should go because it will give me validation. Validation that Isabella and Sean existed, validation of my grief in losing them, validation I so desperately crave. It will also give me a chance to help educate others on what I thought was done right and what wasn't when my world came tumbling down all over again. Thinking back to last year, I don't really have any complaints. All the medical folks I dealt with were compassionate, I never felt slighted or let down. This April I felt like I slipped through the cracks, the time line of April 8th and the events that transpired still make me so upset. It boggles my mind that an U/S technician seriously thinks they can say "I have to get a doctor to talk to you about your case", and then leave the room and have you not freak out. And then when they send you back to your doctor's office the receptionist has no idea why you're there and why you're already crying. That was just the beginning of the mess that was another worst day of my life. I can't say it was the worst because I've had two babies die while I was pregnant with them. I can't really say that one was worse than the other. I don't even know how to feel about September. I guess I was pregnant again, but was I really? I tried so hard to make Isabella and Sean into people by finding out their genders and naming them as if that would make them more real to others, but really was it just to make them real to me? And if that's the case then what about baby # 3? A baby I was barely pregnant with, a baby I never had a due date for, never even got to wrap my head around before it was gone. Like it was never there. I have pictures of Isabella and Sean, so that makes them more real, but it's all so unreal. I feel so sorry for myself. Boo-hoo, why did this happen to me? I'm tired of it. I'm tired of life sucking. I'm tired of not being happy. I'm tired of thinking that only a baby will make me happy. Because what if I never get one? What if I never get to really be a mother, to be a mom. To be the one a child runs to to show a new treasure and cries for when they fall down. To kiss the boo-boos and tuck them into bed. To read a story to and make chocolate chip cookies for. To teach to swim and ride a bike. I don't want to be baby lost anymore. I don't want to wear it like a badge and rub it in others' faces. I don't want to be offended when people tell me "You'll find out when you have kids..."

What am I trying to say? I feel like an impostor. I feel like I conjured all this out of nothing. That I've been overreacting. That I'm milking this for all it's worth. That it really isn't a big deal and I should just get over it.

So while society or whatever has been drilling this into me why haven't I just given up? Why haven't I just rolled over and taken it? Am I glutton for punishment? Do I just like conflict and adversity? Am I only just going against the grain and making a mountain out of a mole hill?

I think it's because it's such a fight that I keep fighting it. If it was easy and clean then I probably wouldn't bother. If people fell all over themselves and said just the right things when your baby died wouldn't it be easier all around? But they don't so it's not and it's back to me and my principles and the inevitable disappointment that other's behavior doesn't live up to my expectations. I'm tired of all my principles, I'm tired of always trying to prove my point. I'm tired of my uphill battle, but who am I battling? My husband? My husband's family? The world? Maybe I'm just fighting myself.

There's no way to win that battle.

"Just Because"

Today I had an interesting appointment with my therapist. I feel like we're really getting into the meat of my neuroses. He said that he's read a bunch of my journals and that it seems like I have very high expectations for how people should act and that is why I'm disappointed a lot. I can understand that. I feel like I hold myself to a standard. A code of conduct, and I feel like I treat people the way I would like to be treated. So when people do things that I wouldn't do it upsets me. I feel like if I knew someone in my situation I would be more supportive/sensitive etc etc. But can I really say that if I hadn't gone through what I've gone through? Maybe I would be an insensitive slob like so many have been to me. Every life experience changes the person you're becoming. So I guess the reason why I feel the need to "educate" people about my experience/grief is so that maybe when the next person comes along they'll know better.

Fat chance right?

My related issue (one of many) that we discussed is how uptight I am because of my high standards. Maybe I live in a bubble with high ideals and notions of how things would be if everyone was nice and did what they were suppose to do. That is what intrigues me so much about the "concept" of the Catholic church. If everyone lived by those rules there would probably be a lot less yuck in the world. Forget the Catholic church, how about just the Ten Commandments? Or for secular folks - the Golden rule? (Add in there other necessities to be what people would say in olden days was respectable/moral behavior.)

But we (I) live in reality. I have no control over the actions of others. Just how I react to them. Now I just need to learn how to react to less extremes. I know deep down when my husband's family does or says something that hurts (like invalidating me/my grief) that it's really just my perception of what they did or said and that they weren't going out of their way to hurt me and that I get upset not because they did it but because it's easier to point the blame at them and be angry with them because I know there was nothing that could have been done to save Isabella or Sean. So who can I be angry at? Who can I blame for all my hurt?

"Just because" just doesn't do it for me.

Getting There

Work is interesting, I've been enjoying what I've been doing, crunching a lot of numbers and doing math that I haven't done since college. With budget and other considerations going on I've been working on finding a more permanent assignment, and I think I have. I talked to another manager yesterday and before I knew it, he had added me to his organizational chart. So I guess I'm there. I hope I enjoy it.

My husband left for Virginia again this morning. He was home for a long weekend and it was nice to spend time with him. We did some yard work and took some naps.

My cycle has been pretty messed up. I had started my "period" on September 9th. I should have not been so curious, but I did 4 separate pregnancy tests between 9/11 and 9/15 and they were positive with varying degrees of darkness for the line, getting fainter as time went on. Which explains my post on September 16th. After talking to my OBGYN many many times, he decided I should go on progesterone suppositories starting around day 18-19. I didn't think I should have bothered this past month since it was so messed up and I didn't take clomid but he said I should. That was unpleasant. Day 30 I had a blood test, negative HCG. Then on October 10th I started on Provera to make my period start. Today it did. The only problem is, my husband is still travelling a lot for work so it seems pointless to take clomid and not be able to make the most of it. I'm not even sure if he'll be home on weekends. It's frustrating. I feel like if we did try our best I could at least get my hopes up and it would make it worth it to take the yucky suppositories again. If I have to take another month off, then that is ok with me. I just want to have a plan.

I've been seeing a new therapist, I don't feel like we've made a lot of progress yet, but I feel like we're going to. I feel like I'm getting there. I went through my journals for the last 2 years and highlighted things of interest to talk to him about. He has some homework before next week's appointment.

I think I always knew deep down, but the reason why I go to these appointments is because I can talk about Isabella and Sean and it's not weird, it's not awkward. I don't feel like I'm bumming someone out. It helps me to talk about them and remember them, to validate that they existed. So even if I cry for some or all of the hour, I feel like it's worth it. Otherwise I'm not sure if I would find time in the week to really think about them, really find some other way to make them part of my existence. It's like making time to pray, I haven't been doing any of that, mostly because I'm still angry with God, but I'm sure He understands. But with anything, if you don't set time aside for it, it will never get done. I want to be happy and not have to go to therapy every week, but I need to find some other outlet. I told my husband how I felt about going to therapy and why and he said he didn't feel the need to talk about Isabella and Sean, that "it is what it is". My new therapist is going to help me teach my husband to be more sensitive toward me since it's come to his attention from everything I've told him that my husband didn't learn how to be sensitive from his family. That's something to look forward to.

I also met briefly with the woman who monitors my medication. I haven't been sleeping well lately so I wanted to try something different. Back in July I started taking Zoloft, then because of that I couldn't sleep at night, so I took another thing at night to help me sleep. But since then my level of Zoloft has increased and sleeping is getting weird again. I told her that I would rather not be on anything at all. I feel like it's a band aid on a broken arm. It's not going to help me get pregnant and it's not going to make me forget all the pain from these last two years. I will never again be that naïve woman who's never been pregnant before and only has hope for the future. If I could go back I would shake that Shannon from two years ago. But I can't.

I can only move on.

It's almost that day again

Tomorrow is September 30th. That was Isabella's due date last year. It's hard to imagine what she might have been like as a one year old. I still feel so empty inside.

We're still trying to have a baby. The only difference now is that I'm taking progesterone toward the end of every cycle, well, this cycle. I don't really have high hopes that I'll get pregnant this month after sort of being pregnant and not taking the clomid and oh yeah, my husband has been out of town on business for the last week and won't be home until Friday. So if I don't get pregnant, I should know around October 8th or 9th, then I'll go back on clomid, and then the progesterone. I'm tired of waiting.

I've never been a patient person.

Baby # 3

So I was pregnant again.

How many times am I going to have to say that?

I was pregnant.

I thought I started my period last Tuesday. But it was really light Tuesday and Wednesday, so when I woke up Thursday morning I decided to do a test. It was positive. I did another test that afternoon, positive again. I didn't want to risk a false positive, a bum test like in July. Friday morning another test, still positive. For those of you with experience with home pregnancy tests, I had a faint line each time. It was darker on Thursday morning than it was Thursday afternoon or Friday morning. Then Friday I went camping with some friends of mine from middle school and high school. I had heavier bleeding, same Saturday, and Sunday. Monday morning I did another test. I may have imagined it but I think I saw a very very very faint line. I can only imagine that I was pregnant, and I had one of those very early miscarriages, and now I'm not.

I'm not.

My husband is traveling again for work. He's going to be very busy for the next month, away a lot of the time. I guess this month is out.

I went back to work yesterday, I'm not doing what I use to be doing. I'm working with a guy I worked with when I first started for the company. It's nice to back with him. He's like an uncle to me. I feel like I can tell him why I was out for so long. He's understanding. Since I have a non-existent father, he's pretty close to that for me.

I don't know what to do with myself, I feel so helpless, so adrift. I went to an appointment with my therapist today. I feel so lost. I feel like the only thing that will make me happy is to be pregnant and have a baby. Is it wrong to wish for that? Is it wrong to hope for that? Is it wrong to think that would ever be possible? I want to scream at every woman I see with a baby and tell her how lucky she is that her baby is alive, her baby is there with her, not flushed down the toilet or in the trash on a maxi pad, not in a lab somewhere being tested for chromosomes. Not being sucked and scraped out of her uterus in pieces in a D&C.

What other torture do I have to go through?? What other misery must I endure?? Will my life ever be as it should be? Will I ever be happy again? All my hopes are gone, all my dreams are demolished...

Baby # 3, I would have loved you so much. I love you so much...

There really is a line there, it's just very faint... :(

A Wonderful Weekend

I didn't think it was possible, but I actually had one of the best vacations of my life this past weekend. We took off for Martha's Vineyard Thursday and stayed until Monday. Everyday we went to the beach, everyday the B&B served us delicious breakfasts, everyday was just so much fun.

It's a little depressing to be home. It's like it was all a dream, like it happened to someone else. I have to get back to reality, think about this whole job situation and do something with myself. Today was a resting day, I was exhausted from all our fun.

Here we are on top of the Edgartown Lighthouse:

On Dyke's Bridge on Chappaquiddick Island:

In front of the Edgartown Lighthouse before a tasty dinner out:

I didn't want to go home. We rented bikes and rode all over town, we had a pitcher of beer for lunch, wine and cheese at 4 at the B&B every day. Lobster rolls, clam chowder, lobster bisque, and a brie croquette to die for.

If you ever go to Martha's Vineyard, I highly recommend the B&B we stayed at, it was called the Jonathan Monroe House and it was absolutely adorable, and Chip, the owner was just the sweetest and most interesting host. He was the one cooking us gourmet breakfasts every morning, we also would get the tastiest muffins and fruit cup too. Everything on the island was perfect. I won't say anymore because I just want to savor it.

Box

So I've finally done it. I put all my memories in a box. I wanted to get a nice wooden one, maybe have Isabella and Sean's names carved on it, but since it's already taken me over a year since Isabella died to do it, this plastic box will have to do. One good thing about the plastic is that I can see inside it.

Inside you can see the bibs I bought for each of them and the big teddy bear is from a hotel that my husband and I stayed at in Arizona last year when I was still pregnant with Isabella. I have all my medical records, cards congratulating me for being pregnant last year and then the condolence cards. I have Share Newsletters, my folder of information my OBGYN hands out, U/S pictures, note cards that I wrote my questions for my OBGYN on, and other odds and ends that remind me of Isabella and Sean.

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It's been a while since I've last posted. I've been mostly just coasting along. I still haven't been working. I don't really want to go back to my old job. I don't want to start a new job. I've been enjoying this time to myself, to rest if I feel like it, and do small projects around the house. I feel like I'm done with the working and being an engineer phase of my life and that I should be moving on to the next phase. I should be a mom now. I've been waiting 2 years to have that job, I hope I don't have to wait much longer.

Caught Off Guard

It's been a while since I've written. I haven't had much to say, I really haven't been doing much other than watching a lot of the Olympics. Last Wednesday was my last day at "partial". Thursday I went to Albany to go to Sam's Club and LLBean and get sushi. Friday I went back to "partial" for a couple hours to finish the puzzle I was working on before I left. It was of Van Gogh's "Starry Night" and it was super hard, the puzzle pieces were all very weird shapes and sizes.

I'm sad that partial is over, I really connected with some of the people there, but their time was up too so I wouldn't get to see them if I stayed.

My husband got back Friday night after being away all week so we had a relaxing weekend and snuggled a lot. Yesterday I did a lot of stuff around the house. I cleaned up the furnace room in the basement and the spare bedroom that was collecting a lot of junk. I took a bunch of stuff out to the garage to put out with the trash this week.

Today will be a lazy day. I slept horribly last night and when I did sleep I had really weird dreams. I have an appointment with my therapist at 11, and that will be the extend of my excitement.

Oh, interesting thing before I forget. My husband and I drive to the end of our street so we can go for a walk in the neighborhoods there since our street is a little busy and doesn't have sidewalks. On Saturday we were walking and a family was making its way on the sidewalk toward us, they had a couple little kids on small bikes or big wheels. I said hello to the woman not thinking much of it and then her husband came into view. He was hunched over a bit leading one of the small bikes so I didn't see who it was until I was five feet from him. It was my OBGYN. I knew he lived somewhere in that neighborhood, but I didn't know where exactly and with the hours I assume he works I never expected to see him out walking. I said hi quickly and we kept going, of course it would be weird to stop and talk to him, so it's just as well. I felt really caught off guard, and it strangely brought back to the front of my mind all my pregnancy issues. I wished that I was pregnant at that moment so badly. I feel like such a failure. I was jealous too, there he was with his cute little kids on their cute little bikes, and me with two dead babies. Seeing him so randomly on the street was all I could talk about the rest of the day. I wondered if he told his wife later that he knew me, but then maybe his doctor/patient stuff would prevent him from even saying that. Part of me doubts he gave me a second thought.

Starting to Feel More Like Me

So a lot has happened since last Tuesday. Here's a recap:

Wednesday I went to my first day at the "Partial Hospitalization Program". I had never done group therapy so I didn't know what to expect. It was strange because no one was really open about why they were there so it was hard for me to be open. Plus I'm not much for talking in front of a group. So I basically felt like, ok, this is my first day, it's too soon to tell if this is going to help or not.

Thursday, wasn't much different. Friday was worse. I was wondering what the point was. Some of the sessions were so removed from anything I could relate to myself that I wondered why I bothered coming. The one interesting thing was that in the afternoon on Friday we played a game. We divided into two teams and all wrote down three things about ourselves that the others probably wouldn't know on separate pieces of paper and it all went in a basket for each team. Then we took turns reading the slips and the other team would try to guess who it was about. The interesting part was that people kept guessing me for other people's slips, only one of mine got read during the game. But then we ran out of time and everyone wanted to know what my other things were, it felt good for people to be curious about me.

My three things were:

I was in the equestrian (horseback riding) club for 2 years in college.

I have been the top fundraiser for the Walk for Diabetes for the last four years, raising over $11k.

I can play the piano, although I haven't in a while, I still can, just not well.

They immediately guessed me for the first one when it was read during the game.

So I went to "partial" this morning and instead of it being more of the same, I felt like things were starting to click. I talked with some people before group, I talked more during group and the second session than I have all three days last week combined and then I sat with some folks at lunch time and talked some more. I feel more comfortable now that I'm starting to get to know some folks. There were less people at partial today, so I didn't feel like there was a huge audience. So I'm excited that it went well today.

As far as the rest of the week, I've been exercising every day (except today because I had to help my husband pack for a business trip and it was rainy out). My husband and I went out to dinner with another couple on Saturday night and had a good time. And then a good portion of the weekend was spent putting together a puzzle I ordered special for my husband's birthday that is a map centered on his parents' house in his hometown. I thought about getting it centered on our house, but it would be a lot of forest which doesn't seem as interesting as lots of streets, highways, and building labels. It was a lot of fun to put together and I'm not even from there. I want to get one of my hometown, that would be super fun too, even though the ocean would probably take up a quarter of it. In case anyone wants to get a puzzle for themselves.

I watched one of my favorite movies tonight, Stardust. It's a great story, I highly recommend it.

My husband is safely in his hotel room now, and now it's time for me to go to bed. I'm going to try to get up in the morning and exercise before going to partial.

As far as Mondays go, this was one of the better ones.