i don't like thinking up titles...

I made it through my first week back to work. After being off for 2+ weeks, adjusting to a 5:15 wake up call is always rough. Usually it just takes a day or two, but after the first week, I am not adjusted. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since the night before I started having abdominal pain. I am really really tired. It takes me a long time to fall asleep and when I do, I can't stay asleep. I have night sweats which cause me to wake up often. I'm ready for those to pass and hopeful as my hormone levels continue to even out that my sleeping patterns will return to normal.

Tuesday was the return to Weight Watchers. I was pleasantly surprised to find I'd gained back less than 2 pounds. I'd been eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted for weeks, but it was time to get back on the plan and hit my goal. I've got about ten more pounds to go. I made a new friend. This gal overheard me sharing with another WW friend about why I'd returned to the meetings. She'd also lost a baby. We sat and chatted for about 15 minutes after the meeting was over. The rest of Tuesday was nice. I got to spend the afternoon with Lauren - that always makes my heart happy! Wednesday was good, but I was quite tired. My mom watches Lauren on Wednesdays and I was driving home, exhausted (with 3+ hours to go before bedtime - Brian doesn't get home until after bedtime...so I work a full day and than am a single parent when I get home - kudos to all you single parents!) wondering how I could this with 2 kids! Then I thought back to the last time I drove home from picking up Lauren I was pregnant...and was wondering because it was going to happen soon! It was a 'first' I hadn't been expecting. It caught me off guard and bummed me out for the rest of the evening. Will there be a time when I don't think about this ALL THE TIME?

The next day I found out about 2 pregnant friends, due around the same time as I would have been. I am thrilled for them, no doubt, but hearing about someone else being pregnant simply reminds me that I am no longer expecting a baby.

We finished our week celebrating my cousin's birthday and his son's birthday. It was a great dinner and a fun night with family! My cousin has a great back yard and the kids spent the evening playing outside. It was a gorgeous evening!



The week was full of ups and downs. Hoping this week has more ups than downs.

What do you do?

What do you do? is a question I was asked a lot recently. When I was in the hospital, I met lots of doctors and nurses who asked that question. I am a high school Spanish teacher (sure, I have other jobs I do, but I knew they were asking about my profession). Every time I tell someone that I teach high school, I'm always met with expressions like, "Bless your heart." or "How do you do it...high school? That must be tough." Some days, it is tough. What job isn't? I LOVE high school students. They are the best. This particular year, I have a crop of great ones. I haven't enjoyed going to work as much as I have this year. When I found out I was pregnant, I was SO excited to tell these kids. It's almost April and I've known them since August. We've had lots of time to build relationships - and with some of the kids, this is the 2nd year they've had me as a teacher. I knew they were going to be excited to find out. I was just as excited to tell them as I was to tell some of my friends. When I told my classes a few years ago that I was pregnant with Lauren, it was much earlier in the year. It was really exciting, but I knew this group of kids would be really excited for me. Today was the day I was going to tell them - but today didn't turn out like planned - obviously.

I had my surgery on a Thursday and knew I'd have to miss work Friday since I would still be in the hospital. When I talked to the doctor the day after about how much work I'd miss, she recommended about a week. I only had 3 days the following week, since spring break was starting, so I decided to take the whole week off. I debated on what I should tell my kids. After all, I've only been gone 1 day all year - and that was a personal day for the most awesome 30th birthday surprise. I was going to miss 4 days in a row, and I wasn't up to lesson planning, so the kids were going to get to watch movies every day (also unlike me - I've got in to work super sick to make decent sub plans before). I knew they would be excited about that, but I wasn't sure what I should tell them. In the end, I decided to write them a letter telling them what happened. I included only necessary details, but I wanted them to know that I wasn't some slack-off teacher enjoying an extra few days in her spring break (not that they would think that anyway...).

I wasn't sure what to expect when I went back to school today. I knew it would be tough for me. All of the 'first' things have been tough. You can't help but think, "the last time I did this...I was happily pregnant." While the students knew what had happened, none of them could really understand what I was going through. They were awesome. They asked how I was doing. They told me they were glad I was back. They said they missed me. It was good to be back. My 3rd block class made me a card. Everyone signed it. Kids I had as students last year signed it. I cried. It meant SO much. In between classes a student I've never had (but have talked to on several occasions) stopped by my room to give me a hug and say she was sorry. At the end of the day, one of my students returned to my room with a letter. He told me how sorry I was that I'd lost my child. He said he'd talked to his mom about it and she told him it had happened to her and that the grief is tough. He continued writing many things that were wise - so wise for a 16 year old and so encouraging to my heart. I was so touched he'd taken the time to write something to personal and so caring. My students care a lot. If I can't spend all day with my own precious little one, at least I get to spend days with these gems. They are sweet, caring and kind. I'm blessed to be able to do what I do.

Healing is happening. I'm still sad. I'm still angry. We are moving forward day by day. I don't know what to expect tomorrow and that's OK. Today was a day for the 'good bucket'. I'm a little afraid of tomorrow...tomorrow I go back to Weight Watchers. I haven't been in a month, and I've kinda been eating what I want post surgery. My pants still fit, which is good, but I don't doubt some of those pounds I've worked so hard to lose have crept back on. It's time they're off and I hit my goal. I shall miss jelly bellies, and subway when I want, and pizza twice a week, and stolen bites of Lauren's mac and cheese. I'm nervous because it's the last big 'first'. I'll have to talk to the leader about why I'm back and talk to my meeting buddies about why I'm back. We'll see how it goes, and how much weight I've gained back. :)

What do you write about...

...when you have lots to say but aren't sure how to say it? Or even that you should share it publicly?

I'll start out by simply stating that I am sharing this story for 2 reasons. Number 1 - this is my blog, my space to say what I wish, even though I don't post often. Number 2 - reading others' stories (even if I didn't know the people) helped me to not feel alone while grieving. What am I grieving? I lost my baby. Even typing those words makes me angry. I can feel hot tears stinging the back of my eyes as I look at that sentence on the screen.

One month ago, my husband and I got a big surprise. One morning I woke up and was surprised my period hadn't started. I keep a stash of dollar store tests under my sink so I don't have to freak out all day wondering if I'm pregnant. Why should I wonder when a dollar will calm my excitement/fears/nerves/etc. I took a test. It was negative. Of course it was. There was NO reason for it to be positive. I felt relieved. We weren't planning to have another baby for MONTHS. I went on with my day without even mentioning the test to Brian. Fast forward 2 days...still no period. I scoured under my sink - I was fairly certain that test I'd taken 2 days earlier was the last in my stash, but thankfully, I was wrong. I found one more test and took it. I watched it the whole time and saw the control line appear right away. There was no other line to indicate I was pregnant. I breathed a sigh of relief - again, this wasn't the timing that we'd wanted. I turned on the shower. I returned to the counter to throw the test away...but to my total shock, there was a faint second line showing up. I just stared. I couldn't believe it. I was scared. I was disappointed. I was SO excited. The mixture of emotions was overwhelming, but mostly, I was in complete disbelief. Excitedly, I woke Brian and told him the news. We both didn't really know how to react. I was sad it wasn't as exciting as finding out we were pregnant with Lauren. After all, this baby would be just as loved, but we were totally shocked and it needed to sink in. When I got to work, I quickly told my friend Courtney (the one who'd given me the awesome scarf gift). She was surprised (as she knew the timeline Brian and I had been thinking) but she was excited. She made me more excited. The more people I got to tell, the more excited I got. We really didn't tell many people - just 3 of my friends and our families. I called the doctor, made an appointment, got blood work done, scheduled my first ultrasound (yay!!! couldn't WAIT to see and hear that heartbeat!) and waited. I took this picture.

You may have to click on it to see the signs - but the one on the left was from when I was 6 weeks pregnant with Lauren. The one on the right announced that I'd lost 30 pounds, AND I was having another baby. We'd known about a week at this point. I was now totally excited. I'd just gotten home from my last Weight Watchers meeting for a long time. I was a little disappointed that I was so close to my weight loss goal, but I was also excited to eat a little more freely...to not write down everything, to indulge with treats I hadn't eaten in almost a year. I couldn't wait to wear maternity clothes. I pulled them all out of my tub - most were huge, and I was fairly certain I'd have to buy another maternity wardrobe. I started shopping. That made me more excited! Then, one week after the picture on the right was taken, things changed.

I came home from school around 10 am (I teach part time). I was excited to have an extended morning at home because I wasn't going to Weight Watcher meetings anymore. Lauren and I were getting ready to run some errands when I started having intense abdominal cramps. I went to the bathroom and felt no relief. I spent the next two hours in bed - sure I was losing the baby, praying that all would be OK. I wanted this baby so badly. After a few hours, I felt remarkably better. I was still in pain, but could get out of bed. I wasn't bleeding, so I assumed all was well. My mom spent the afternoon playing with Lauren. I was certain I had the worst gas I'd ever had in my life. I went to bed that night sure I would feel completely better in the morning. I felt really good the next day. I went to work and didn't think much about it. I felt a little more tired than usual that night, but I wasn't worrying much about the pregnancy. After all, I was feeling so much better. I still felt pretty good the next morning, but I wasn't feeling normal. I started to worry again. Surely, if it were gas, it would have passed by now. I went to work, but as soon as my morning class was over, the intense pain returned. I called my doctor, still thinking it was gas, and the nurse I spoke with gave me some options for reducing my pain, but told me not to worry. I spent another few hours in bed. I didn't feel better this time. I called the doctor again, but now, I had 2 new symptoms to add to my intense abdominal pain. I was lightheaded and my right shoulder hurt. Of course, I googled these symptoms and they pointed to an ectopic pregnancy. I started to get scared, but really didn't believe it would be something that would happen to me. I didn't mention what I suspected to the doctor, but upon hearing my symptoms, she told me to go have an ultrasound. I called my mom. She came over to watch Lauren. Brian canceled his afternoon appointments. We left. I was in so.much.pain.

The ultrasound tech couldn't find anything in my uterus. She said it was because we needed to wait for all the water I'd just consumed to move my intestines out of the way. I knew it was because the baby wasn't where it should be. She left the room to give my bladder time to fill. We prayed. About 20 minutes later, I heard that beautiful noise...a heartbeat...but only for a few seconds. I wish I would have asked to hear it longer. It wasn't followed by, "All is well, no need to worry". We waited a few more moments and she said, "I hate to tell you this, but it is ectopic. It doesn't happen very often, but I am so sorry." She handed me a kleenex and told me she was going to call my doctor. She walked out the room. I burst into tears.

A few moments later, I was on the phone, talking to my doctor. She was so kind. She said we needed to head immediately to the emergency room for surgery. What? Surgery? I couldn't go home and pack a bag? See my girl? Make sure she had what she needed? I needed to make sub plans...I assumed I couldn't work the next day. There were so many thoughts running through my head. I couldn't believe this was happening. It was sickening to think that my baby was alive. I heard the beautiful heartbeat. And, in a few short hours, would no longer be part of me. I called my mom. I sobbed. She told me she'd take care of Lauren and everything I needed. I texted my friends who knew I was pregnant. I felt numb.

We walked into the ER. I'd never been to the ER. I thought there'd be all sorts of people in the waiting room, but it was just us and they knew who we were when we walked through the door. I was asked a billion questions. I tried not to cry. I didn't succeed. The nurses were so kind. About 10 minutes later, I was in a hospital gown, in a hospital bed, being hooked up to an IV. And then we waited to meet the surgeon. My doctor (who's a family practice doctor) told me that they could treat this with medicine, but due to how far along I was (6 weeks and 1 day) and that there was a heartbeat, surgery was probably the best option. I didn't know what to think. This wasn't something I'd researched. I didn't know what I really thought. I didn't want to have surgery, but I was in SO MUCH pain and I did want that to be over. We prayed some more. After an hour or so, the surgeon came in to explain the procedure - a laparotomy - they'd make three small incisions in my abdomen and remove 'the pregnancy' that way. I guess 'the pregnancy' is the way you try not to offend anyone - you don't call it a fetus and you don't call it a baby. Anyway, he also told me that there was a chance I'd lose my tube, and that the chances for another ectopic pregnancy were now higher for me. Joy, I thought. I'd really like to do this again. I signed a bunch of paperwork and shortly after I was wheeled into the operating room. I climbed up on the table, and they put me to sleep.

I woke up, and my first question was about my tube. I'd gotten to keep it! A huge praise. I'd gotten to keep it, because the baby had attached to my left ovary. From what I understand, an ovarian ectopic pregnancy is VERY rare. The surgeon who removed 'the pregnancy' couldn't remember having seen another ovarian ectopic pregnancy before. He told me this was excellent news for my fertility. He also told me that I'd lost about 1/3 of my blood...as it had pooled in my abdominal cavity and I was lucky I'd had surgery when I did. They wanted to keep me overnight to make sure I didn't need a blood transfusion. I was wheeled out of the recovery room and finally able to see Brian. My dad was there too. I was so glad. I should have known he'd come, but it still surprised me to see him. I got to my hospital room and after a bit Brian went home and packed some things for us, knowing we'd be spending the night in the hospital. My dad stayed with me - I was glad he was there. He was a good calming influence. I needed my daddy. I love him so much. Brian returned, my dad left and we tried to sleep. I finally was starting to feel better. I slept fitfully for a few hours, about killed the lady who came it at 4:30 to take my blood, dozed a bit more and tried to enjoy cable TV until we checked out of the hospital after lunch.

We came home and it was weird. I was pregnant the last time I'd been in the house. I finally got to see my little girl. It helped. I am SO thankful I have her. SO thankful her pregnancy was uncomplicated. SO thankful she's healthy and happy and a good distraction from the pain I'm feeling.

Two weeks have passed since surgery. Mostly, physically, I'm better. I've still got pregnancy hormones in my body and I'm anemic. Therefore, I'm tired. Emotionally, I've cried every day but one. Sometimes I cry at things that aren't sad. Sometimes I don't cry when I feel like I should. Our friends and my parents have been amazing. Lots of calls, texts, flowers, cards, meals, offers to watch Lauren. I am SO thankful for the community we've been blessed with.

God and I are just starting to talk about this. I know he knows every emotion. I haven't been ready to talk to Him yet. I'm mad. I'm mad for lots of reasons. We had it out last night. It was good. He is the same God he was before I found out about this baby. He's the same God who protected my life in the OR, He's the same God who will be here with me as I start to heal and continue along this journey. I'm still mad. He can take it. That's good. I'm pretty mad. It feels good to be honest with Him about things. I have no control over life. I have no control over death. Death stinks. Living life without God would stink...so I'm glad I've got someone who loves me and ultimately wants what's best for me to guide me through it. I may never know why this is a part of our story. I have to be okay with that. I think the the thing that is the hardest at this point, is that I simply want to know if the baby was a boy or a girl. I don't get to learn anything about this sweet baby. One day I'll get to meet my child and know, but I wish I could have known this one detail.

A blogger friend of mine who experienced a miscarriage last fall posted a link on her blog to this blog entry. Angie Smith's story is much different than mine, but reading the entries about her daughter Audrey have been good for my heart and my dialog with God.

This is most definitely an ongoing healing process. I've yet to go back to church or back to work. Family visiting and Spring Break were well timed. I'm scared to enter 'the real world' again. We will get through it.

Thanks for reading all that. It's long, emotional and a little raw. Hopefully soon there will be fun pictures of my adorable child, but for now, this is heavy on my heart.