Buttons or Bows?

We didn’t find out if “Doodle” (EJ) was a boy or a girl.  There was already so much to be excited for.  Ways to celebrate the pregnancy.  The birthing classes, the breastfeeding classes, the newborn care classes- not to mention the nursery, organizing gender neutral baby shower gifts.

And while we hoped to have another baby, the journey to “Squishy” was a little bumpier.  We had a miscarriage in between these pregnancies.  It took more attempts, drugs and hormones.  We decided to try “1 more time” before our infertility doc went out on maternity leave.

And it worked.

And then I started getting sick almost immediately.

I gag while brushing my teeth.  I hurl at the sight of dog food.  While driving I have simultaneously peed myself while puking- our 2 year old proclaiming “eeewwww mama…” in the back seat.

“It will get better in the 2nd trimester….” They said.

It didn’t.

In fact, if I’m being honest.  I kind of hate this pregnancy.  I was looking forward to another glowy awesome pregnancy when I loved my body.  The feeling of so much joy, feeling life dance inside me.  Watching my belly grow.  Oh how I loved the bump and feeling kicks.

I throw up every day.  I hate my body. I feel like shit. Thanks to my perfectly centered anterior placenta its hard to feel the baby move or even hear a heartbeat.

So I talked to Mary.  I needed something to be excited for.  Something to celebrate this pregnancy and to be unique.

So we decided to find out the gender.

We went to a privately-owned ultrasound place (not our midwives office) because they could see us sooner.  And while I’m glad we went…I must admit the ultrasound tech was…. shall we say very conservative?  It was obvious that she wasn’t too keen on the idea of a same sex family.  She made her opinions be known.

And when people don’t even attempt to hide their biases, I personally enjoy making them squirm.  So when she told us it was a boy…I couldn’t help myself.  “Well.  That’s the first time a penis has ever been inside me…” just came out of my mouth.  She was horrified.  Mary rolled her eyes.

At least it will make for a good story 😊

Our baby boy is very healthy.  Growing well, and has all the major body parts.  We are so very excited.  I wouldn’t have cared one way or the other- but I feel like I finally have something to think about besides puking and pure exhaustion.

A baby born after a pregnancy lost is sometimes called a “rainbow baby”.  Last week- I saw a pattern for a little rainbow baby hat, and decided to make it.  I didn’t know if I should sew on a coordinating button or a rainbow bow.  I made a bow and decided I would just take it to the hospital with us.  But now I’m excited to sew on the little button.  And maybe I can turn the bow into a matching bow tie.  And I can’t wait to sort through the clothes our friends gave us for a boy.  Or come up with a boy name.  Or find matching Big Sis/Little Bro outfits.

I’d be just as happy going through EJ’s clothes to sort out the newborn sizes, attaching a bow, finding a girl’s name and knitting matching mermaid tail sleep sacks for the girls.

I feel like I finally have something to think about.  Something to hope for, something to look forward to- besides how miserable I am.  Every pregnancy, every baby, and every person is different…and I’m really glad we decided to do this.


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On being pregnant…again.

I don’t even know where to start.

This week, we had our first appointment with the midwives.  She asked how many pregnancies and children we have.  Its weird to say 3 pregnancies, one daughter.

3 pregnancies sound like a lot. But we only have one daughter.

And yes, I’m pregnant again…but it still feels like something is missing.  I’m pretty open about our pregnancy loss we had last December.  I thought I had mostly healed and we were ready to start again.

Truthfully, I’m appreciative of how the experience has helped me connect with other mothers with similar experiences.  Not that its fun to be part of some special miscarriage club- but I can understand how they feel.   I finally get why people are hesitant to bond with a pregnancy.

With EJ, we told Mary’s parents right away.  Well, we waited 3 days after the 2nd pink line appeared to tell them.

With Bean, the pregnancy we lost, I knew something was off from the beginning.  My quant levels were low, and I never got the “urgency” to pee like I did with EJ.  I know that’s weird.  But I distinctly remember telling the doctor- “I know something is wrong- because I don’t have to pee.”  I felt another “soul” inside me with EJ, and I never felt that with Bean.

With this pregnancy, which we have dubbed, “Squishy”….I don’t know how I feel.  I want to bond, but I’m afraid to.  I’m only 10 weeks but we’ve had 3 ultrasounds.  All of them have shown a heartbeat and baby growing right on track- but I’m still afraid to get excited.

It also doesn’t help that I feel differently with this pregnancy.  With EJ, the moment I got pregnant I felt glowy right away.  I loved being pregnant from the moment I found out I was until 37 weeks (when I was done with being pregnant in the August heat).  I looked forward to creating a nursery.  Growing a bump.  Buying little onesies.  I couldn’t wait to “look” pregnant.  Couldn’t wait to feel kicks- and loved it when I finally did!  I was oblivious- and convinced that everything would be perfect.  And actually, with EJ it was- but now I have a lot of friends that had not so perfect pregnancies and deliveries, and I’m more aware of what could happen.

I’m really happy we are pregnant.  And I’m relieved that things have been good so far.

But I’m still hesitant to dive head first the way I did with EJ.

Maybe its because I’ve had much more sickness with this pregnancy?  I wasn’t nearly this sick with EJ, but with this pregnancy I’ve been taking nausea meds 2-3 times every day.

Maybe because we don’t have to do as much? Maybe this is actually reassuring because I’m not nervous.  I know that I don’t need a perfect nursery- the baby will be attached to my boob all night so prepping another room is just pointless.  We don’t need to buy a lot of things because we bought everything with EJ gender neutral.  We can even use the cloth diapers again.

Maybe because I weigh more this pregnancy I’m not so in love with my body?

Maybe it seems to be going by faster because I’m chasing a toddler?

I don’t know.  But I do know that I just feel differently this pregnancy.  And its not necessarily bad, but its just not what I was expecting.  I thought if you were one of those women who LOVED being pregnant, then you would LOVE being pregnant again.  And I just don’t feel the same level as excitement.  I’m hoping its just because I have less to worry about, less is unknown to me, less preparation- maybe I’m more prepared, more experienced, and this is all a sign of actually being a better mom.

Maybe my heart is still healing, and its okay for me to be more cautious.  I know that this baby is meant for our family, and I know that we are so lucky.  I know that this baby will be so loved by 2 moms and a very sweet big sister.  But I’m going to try to make more efforts to take care of myself and this little “squishy”- try to spend more time being in touch with myself, and getting to know the little soul that seems very determined to be here.



18 months a whole lot of toddler

Well I guess it is about that time again.  It’s been a little while to update what is going on in our lives.

Machelle has gotten another job that she really seems to enjoy.  It is a LOT more responsibility, but she is very capable of being an amazing addition to the team at her practices.

I have been accepted in to the Graduate program at ECU for the Online Masters in Business Administration.  It begins in the fall, so I guess I have this summer to get any sort of organization and fun things lined up before I get bogged down by school for the next 3 years.

I have decided that we have go to do some decluttering of our house.  The house we live in is plenty large for the purposes that we need to use it for—you know like sleeping, eating, and showering—but we have started to let things clutter and there needs to be some serious, serious purging that needs to take place. So I am taking that on as my summer project.  I want to have the house as organized and clean and well put together before I start school in August and then will have absolutely no free time.

A few posts ago I wrote a letter to EJ about things that I wanted her to know as she grows older.

Now it is my time to write myself a letter.  One that I will force myself to read at least monthly to remind me of things that I need to be focusing on instead of other things that sometimes get in the way.

Here goes:

Dear Mary,

3 years ago, you were not even close to the person you thought you would be as you type this letter to yourself.  You spent way too much money on bar tabs and way less money on gym memberships.  You had gym memberships, but they often lapsed or you were the equivalent of the people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas.  So with that being said, I need for you to read some small pieces of advise that I have to offer you that you know already, but tend to forget when things get hectic.

  1. Slow down- spend the time after you get home from work playing with EJ and interacting with her instead of worrying about how you are going to get everything packed for daycare the next day.  She goes to bed early, you can do that stuff later.
  2. Be open- well as open as you possibly can be.  Don’t squash dreams before they have even entered your brain, or the brain of others.  Listen to these ideas and think them through then make a decision.
  3. Listen- and I actually mean listen.  Listen to what your wife has to say to you when she gets home from work, rather than acting like you’re listening while you scroll through 32 emails that can wait until tomorrow.  Listen to your child as she is starting to learn new words and wants to know that you are listening to her and praising her for learning these words.  Listen to your coworkers and others in your field when they have issues and when they have ideas that they are looking for your feedback on.
  4. Leave work early- not every day, of course that’s not possible.  But take time for your family.  One day you are going to wake up and have only your family. Your career and job does not define you.  You can’t fix everything over night.  Although, sometimes in your line of work, things can creep in to the “EMERGENT” folder in your brain filing system, and when they do these items need to be vetted to make sure they actually are emergent.  Do not waste precious time at home with your family, working on something that can wait until tomorrow.
  5. Organize- get your house, your job, your soon to be school in order so that you are the most efficient.  It’s going to be hard to finish your MBA with a disgusting garage or no where to put your tools for success.  Everything needs a home. And you need to find this home and then get rid of everything else.  There’s no sense in keeping a receipt from 3 years ago.  GET IT OUT.
  6. Get back in touch- everyone’s life is changing rapidly around you–surprise you aren’t the only one.  They’ve got kids, husbands, wives, dogs, houses, jobs–just like you (well except for the husband part–no thank you).  But the bustle that is every day life does not mean that you can not reach out to them and catch up with how they are doing in their life.  If you don’t, you will lose touch with some of the most influential people in your life.  Stop saying you will do it next week, do it today or at least before the week ends.
  7. Make at least 10 minutes a day for yourself.  This can be in the car, in the shower, on facebook, or right before you hit the pillow.  This is the shortest blurb, but the most important.  If you let yourself go, you aren’t going to be able to do anything that you want to accomplish.  Treat yo’self.

7 things–not a lot to ask.  So stop making excuses about how you can’t get these things done and do it. A well trained monkey can do 7 things.  You are slightly smarter than the monkey, so at least that ball is in your court.

You’re strong, you’re brave, you can absolutely conquer this.

I love you

9 years…

9 years.
3,285 days.
78,840 hours.
4,730,400 minutes.

That’s the amount of time that Machelle and I have spent together.

When you break it down, it seems like quite a long time.  But most days, it feels like yesterday that she reached out to me on a no longer existing form of social media–no it wasn’t myspace–and told me that she wanted to “meet new people.”

We have done so much in the past 9 years.  We have gotten much better jobs, said goodbye to people that we loved, and said hello to some pretty amazing people who have come in to our lives.

What happens when you love someone so much it hurts? When you long for time by yourself, but as soon as you get it, you long to be back with the one you left?  Love is a hard thing to explain and an even harder thing to keep alive. If anyone ever tells you that love isn’t work, they are doing it wrong.

Love is not smashing the dishes all over the kitchen when you get home from work after you’ve asked your lovely wife (or husband) a million times to put the dishes in the dishwasher before they leave for work.

Love is being beside someone when things hurt. Sure, when they hurt physically is one thing. But standing beside them when they are emotionally shattered can be just as difficult.

Love is getting out of bed to get the chocolate chip cookies that are downstairs–that you both want–but neither of you want to get out of bed for.

Love is folding clothes. A shit ton of clothes.  Baby clothes, your clothes, dog clothes, just a crap ton of clothes.  How can one human wear that many clothes in 1 week?

Love is waking up early to let the dogs out and keep them quiet before you go to the gym at 4 am.

Love is falling asleep way before your better half does while they continue with the stuff you have to do the next day–and they aren’t angry about it, because they understand how incredibly tired you are and how imperative it is that you get sleep.

Love is spending Saturday mornings in bed eating waffles–or Chick Fil A if its been a good week–and watching Daniel Tiger or Sesame Street on repeat because it keeps your toddler happy and you can all pretend for a few more minutes that the day won’t end up in total toy chaos.

Love is making yourself better for the other person.  And true love is when you have found someone who loves you just the way you are–but inspires you to make yourself better.

Love is changing diapers. And anyone who is reading this that cloth diapers, you know true love is spraying out that diaper that has sat at daycare or somewhere else for a little too long.

Love is letting your wife burn expensive candles that you could really care less about for the first 4 years of the relationship–but around year 5, somehow you both start caring about the scents you get during the next trip.

Love is supporting someone when they may be making a life changing decision.  Helping them weigh out the pros and cons and then having the confidence in your partner that they will eventually make the best decision.

Love is looking across the dinner table you are sitting at without children and saying “Man, it’s really nice not to have to pick up a fork off the ground or dodge a flying piece of bread.”

Love is so many many things. The best thing about it is, it is ever changing and evolving.  If you aren’t willing to take the time you put in to the beginning of relationship, 9 years down the road you are going to find that things aren’t looking so hot.

9 years–after the excitement of something new wears off, after the “you can’t keep your hands off of each other” stage is long gone, you will realize that the person you fell in love with in the first place is still there.

Take the time to rekindle what you had in the beginning.  Go out on dates without your children.  Make out in parking lots like you did when you were first dating. Do whatever you guys need to do to feel more connected.

I promise you, feeling connected will be the best thing you could do for your relationship.  Your happiness and the happiness of your relationship will be thankful. 16423104_10101916499836166_937302104681424307_o

To My Daughter 

Last night after watching “This is Us” and crying like a baby like I always do, I realized something. 

Call me crazy, call me late to the party-but I realized that this tiny human we are raising is going to grow up to be an adult and have to deal with all of the emotions that come with that. And for that reason, I continued to cry, long after the show was over. 

I remember very distinctly the the day that I found out my mom had a stroke, the days that I had to say goodbye to my grandparents, the day I found out my mom had breast cancer, and the day my dad had open heart surgery. But I also remember the day my mom came home from the hospital, the thousands of good days with my grandparents, the day my mom had been cancer free for 5 years and the moment I knew my dad had survived the surgery. 

In life, each person is given so many trials. But we are also so fortunate to be given pure happiness.  As a parent, you don’t want your children to feel the trials, only the happiness. But, to feel that happiness, you have to know the pain and sadness. 

So on the eve (or a few weeks prior) of my daughter being 18 months old, I decided to write this letter for her so that one day, she can know just how I feel and my perspective of what it feels like to be a parent. 

Dear EJ,

You will never, ever understand how much I love you. The pure joy in my heart began long before you were born and although I didn’t think it could ever be possible, it grows a little more every day. Some days my heart literally feels like it will explode.

 When you were born and I had to return to work, I proudly displayed your newborn pictures in my office at work. As the months passed, I had to move offices and the pictures-for whatever reason-never made it back up. Last week, your Grandma asked for me to print her some recent pictures of you and I ended up printing 2 of each thinking that I would put them up at work. I proudly displayed them again–but every time I look at them I get sad. I get sad that I can’t be with you 24/7. I get sad that your Madré and I have to work so that we can provide and continue to provide you with everything a child would need in life…and maybe a few extras here and there. I plan on keeping them up, but I wish you were with me. 

So EJ–I need for you to know a few things. Things that I have learned in my short 30 years (ok, almost 31). 

  • Never doubt how much your family loves you. There will be days when we get upset or frustrated, but that doesn’t ever mean we don’t love you. Give us some time, even 5 minutes, and we will be better.
  • Be kind to your pets. They will love you more unconditionally than anyone in the world. When it feels like everyone has turned their back on you, your pet will still be there, waiting for your next move. Make it a kind one. 
  • Don’t be afraid to take the risk. Whether this is jumping off the monkey bars, or quitting your job that you are so incredibly unhappy in. I will say, jumping off the monkey bars is much easier when you are 6. 
  • Spend time with your grandparents. They have so much to offer. They are funny people and love you more than the world. If I could have anything, it would be one more day with all of my grandparents. Do not take this for granted. They won’t be here forever, and you will miss them. 
  • Do not compare yourself to others. This is a really hard one. You are you. You are made to be you, nobody else. And you are perfect in your own way. 
  • Do not let other people change you. The only caveat to this is, unless it’s for the better. If you find someone that makes you want to be a better human, do not let them go. 
  • Be creative. No matter what that outlet looks like, everyone has got one. Find yours and do it. It feels so good. 
  • Don’t be afraid to embarrass yourself. Now, as you know since you are reading this, neither of your moms can dance or sing. But that doesn’t stop us from dancing around the kitchen, singing at the top of our lungs in the car, or hula hooping in public to get you to laugh. When you dig deep to have the courage to be embarrassed, you open up a whole new ability to learn about yourself.
  • Laugh. If there is one thing your grandparents taught me, it was how to laugh. Laugh at yourself, laugh with other people. Just laugh. If you ever need help laughing, and inevitably you will, you call me. I promise, even on the darkest days, there is humor in there somewhere.
  • On that same note, cry. Ugly cry, happy cry, sad cry. It’s always ok to express your emotions and sometimes, that cry is such a cathartic release. 

EJ. Your Madré and I love you more than the world. We lay in bed at night and talk about how cute you are, how much you are growing and we ask each other if other people feel this way about their children. Our topics of conversation for the past 2 years has been devoted to you. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes we have to talk about other things, but it always comes back to you. We will scroll through the 1,458,233 pictures and videos of you and just smile. You are our everything. We are so lucky to be able to have you as a daughter. Our only hope is that we do you proud and make you happy to be our daughter. We know it won’t always be easy, but it will always be worth it. 

The Miscarriage Scarf

When I told my therapist that I was knitting a miscarriage scarf, she told me to call it something else.  “Memory Scarf” or “Bean’s Scarf”. (Bean is what we called the baby)

And I will admit that my therapist is usually right about things, and does a great job of calling me out on my bullshit.

But we had a miscarriage.  And I knitted a scarf while I was waiting for it.

I can’t bring myself to call it anything else than what it is.  It is a miscarriage scarf.

On December 29th, we had a 2nd ultrasound- which showed an empty gestational sac.  We had an ultrasound the week before, which showed a small sac, and we were told then that there was a 50/50 chance of it being viable.

The doctor was so sweet.  Hugged and cried with us.  She gave me three options.

  1. Wait it out.  My body will eventually end the pregnancy, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe two weeks.  I would continue having pregnancy symptoms until my body miscarried.
  2. Go have a D&C.  A surgical procedure to end the pregnancy.
  3. Take some medication now that will make me miscarry.

I just wanted it over with.  I wanted some control.  I thought about the D&C, the thought of just going to sleep, waking up and it being over was actually appealing.  But she said there would be a longer healing time, and likely would be an extra month or two before we could try again.  So opted to take the cytotec, and initiate a miscarriage at home.  I would have a long weekend due to New Years, and it was a low week at work.

The cytotec goes inside, vaginally.  4 pills.  She said I would probably start bleeding in 2-6 hours.

Mary took the day off work, and we went home.  I texted some friends that I knew had been through something similar.

One friend, said that she had a D&C for one and for another, miscarried at home.  She mentioned that waking up from surgery just made her feel empty- that miscarrying at home helped her process it.

Oddly, she was right.

I asked her, “What does one do while waiting for a miscarriage to start?  Knit a scarf?”

“Knitting a scarf might be nice” she said.

Truthfully, I had already started a scarf.  Every woman does a few weird things when they get pregnant- I knit.

But I felt like I needed to work on it while my body lost the pregnancy.  I started the scarf when I just found out we were expecting, and I’ll finish while the pregnancy ends…

The thing I wasn’t expecting- is the feeling of guilt.  Not because I did anything wrong that caused a miscarriage, but that I elected to take the medication to end the pregnancy when it was determined to no longer be viable.  That Catholic guilt is some serious shit.  A part of me feels as though I had an abortion.  And even though I am very pro choice, I feel guilty for ending a pregnancy with medical intervention, even though I know that the pregnancy wasn’t viable.

Things effect you differently.  Friends who announce their pregnancy, and their baby is due at the same time ours would have been.

I wont go into the details of what having a miscarriage is like.  The bleeding lasted longer than I thought, however the pain wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.

After the miscarriage, I noticed my milk came back in- but EJ still refused to go to the breast.  I tried to pump for about a week, but stopped when I came to terms with the fact that EJ wasn’t interested.  Honestly, processing the loss of a breastfeeding relationship is actually harder than processing the loss of a pregnancy.

I am fortunate to have an amazing wife and village of friends I can turn to.  I’m actually, in some respects, thankful to have an opportunity to connect with women who have had similar experiences.  To be able to have another level of understanding and empathy.  I am hopeful, that obviously I am still able to get pregnant. I know that everything happens for a reason.  That this is just a step to get to the child this is meant for our family.

But what’s been most healing for me, is just saying, frankly, unfiltered, what happened.

We had a miscarriage.

The Black Hole

We went to have an ultrasound this Monday. I was excited, but nervous. All I wanted to see was a heartbeat, in the uterus. I got excited when I could see the gestational sac, but my heart sank. I looked at Mary. The sac was in the uterus, but it was just a black, empty hole. I looked at the doctor’s face. She was scanning, the tech was going back and forth. Nothing. They said maybe there is a small indication of a fetal pole and a yolk sac along the edge of the gestational sac, but hard to say. No heartbeat. Nothing. Not even a slight flicker on the screen.

She said come back next week. That there is a 50-50 chance its viable.

“We did some screwy things this cycle, I made you ovulate late, maybe its too early to see a heartbeat…”

Those aren’t hopeful words.

She put her hand on my knee, “I need you to go home and believe that you are still pregnant. Positive thoughts, okay?”

But all I feel is empty. I don’t feel connected to the pregnancy anymore.

Today I found out that the job I wanted and went through 4 interviews for was given to the other candidate.

Merry Fucking Christmas.