Sunday, October 30, 2011

(What Should Have Been...) Jack's Hallowe'en Costume

This was what Jack was supposed to wear for Hallowe'en this year. We picked it out last year (Mercifully we never pulled the trigger and bought it) from Pottery Barn Kids.



I remember rubbing my belly last year as I greeted our Trick or Treaters, looking forward to dressing up our little guy. There are so many things I wanted for him, and Hallowe'en is the least of it. 

But still, it stings we're going to be seeing little princesses and super heros tomorrow, and we'll have no one to show off at the door.  I think about what we might have done, taking him to visit each of his grandparents for a little door-to-door action and some cuddles... But instead, we'll hand out candy and hold back tears. I am hoping (a lot) there won't be many babies on parade tomorrow.

One thing is for sure, Jack would have made one hell of a cute bat.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Why I Hope Silence Is Golden

First, I want to thank you ladies so much for your comments of support since I posted this.

You seriously have no idea how relieved I was to know you were as outraged as I was/am. I kinda felt like an idiot for not having deleted her earlier, and to be honest I think it's because I knew she was going to do this and wanted to confirm if my suspicions were founded. They were.

I loved all of your advice, and have given this serious thought over the past few days. Far too much though, actually. In the end, I decided to delete her and say nothing to her about it.

There may come a time where I feel ready to speak the words I so desperately wish to scream in her face, words which will make her feel this small, make her remorseful, and make her realize what her actions say to me. But right now? Right now I'm still rehearsing it in my head.

Also, I don't think she'll ever get it. And it's not because she's not a blm (because I do think some people can comprehend a little of what this version of life is like), but rather because I don't believe she has the self-awareness necessary to understand what she's done.  Despite my openness with her as to how I couldn't handle it, how it made me believe she didn't think he counts, she chose to do exactly that.  She proved (in my mind) that he doesn't count to her, and so he doesn't deserve his own name (and photos).
So I feel like she's really the one who made a decision, all the while knowing the consequences. There will be no "do overs", because this can't be undone.

So I'm left with either confronting her a second time, and having her turn this around on me (because she will, mark my words). It'll become a story about how she loved the name, and I am selfish, or that she hadn't heard from me much since we had discussed it and she thought it would be okay...  It was either all of that, or I delete her and move on.

And to be honest, I think silence will bother her more than outright drama would, because as one of my smart commenters noted, she thrives off of it. It's so very true.

I'd be lying if I didn't have an ulterior motive for cutting her out of my life. I have another reason too, and he or she occupies my womb at this very moment. In all honesty, I don't want her negative energy anywhere near this pregnancy. I've been told she's been asking mutual friends if I'm pregnant, and I honestly don't think this comes from a good place. I think it comes from the same place who was jealous when I was visibly pregnant and received compliments or priority seating, while she received none on those things while she herself was pregnant. The place where I received a gift basket from her on my front porch the day we welcomed Jack home with a note which didn't read "congratulations", but rather "I can't wait to get pregnant and be off on maternity leave. I'm going to get pregnant asap". Riiiiiight. So yes, part of this wishing to never speak to her again has something to do with my desire to protect this fetus from negative thoughts and feelings. In removing her from my life, I am hoping to remove the negative thoughts and my fear of her "jinxing" this pregnancy out of jealousy. I realize this makes me sound paranoid, but I've clearly been right about her before... Yikes.

And in truth, I have a lot of really great friends, both in real life, "on line", and email BLM BFFs. People who have been there for me, who are there for me, and truly wish the very best for Scott, Jack, Jack's Baby, and myself. People who are rooting for us to finally have a variation of the life we've always wanted.  People who would egg houses or stick potatoes in exhaust pipes (real offers people- these are great friends in my books!), if we were in fact people who did that stuff. People who I'd do the same for, if they ever needed it. I'd much rather invest my (soon to be even more) limited time into cultivating those relationships than this one.

Anyway, thanks again for all your kind words.

Ps. 10w5. :)

Monday, October 24, 2011

Insensitive Assholes

Remember her?

She had her baby. And she gave it the middle name Jaxen. WTF, right?

I thought we had discussed this, and I thought we had agreed, she wasn't going to do it? And I get that it's a middle name, but are you kidding me? What's WRONG with her?

Specifically, I remember her writing me this:

"Laura, I am SO sorry. The name is off the table. Thank you for being honest. There was a part of me that knew it was a horrible idea. I guess -the more we watched the stupid tv show... the more we liked it (and the character). Hope I didn't break your heart."

Hey lady- fuck you!

Wanna know the worst part? I kinda knew she would do this from the moment she told me she wouldn't. Because that's kinda just the kinda of insensitive asshole she is.

And the creepy part? She has posted photos on Facebook, which are eerily similar to two of the photos from my header- the one of Jack on my chest (which I assume most momma's have, but it's the expression on her face which "gets" me), and the other of her kid, in a sleeper, wearing the bear hat, in a car seat.

Part of me wants a knock 'em down, drag 'em out, full-fledge fucking cat fight where I call her out for being a shitty human being and she feels shame about it. But she probably won't feel shame, because she's a horrible person.

But the other part? The other part knows I'm the better person, and wants to just delete her from my life, ignore her calls, and pretend she never existed. But then I feel like she wins a little. I feel like she'll always be able to play dumb and pretend she doesn't know what went wrong in our friendship... Or that worse yet, she'll think I'm jealous of her and her newborn baby boy.

But mostly? Mostly I can't figure out why she'd want to replicate my dead baby in her photos, or even in name, even after I asked her not to... After I warned her I couldn't be her friend anymore.

What would you do?

Sunday, October 16, 2011

And Still I Worry

I am pregnant. And so very thankful to have been given a second chance at being a mother... At having a living child whom I will ravish with kisses. So very thankful for this pregnancy which I have be longing for from the very moment I knew we had lost him.

I am so very thankful, and yet I worry.

I worry that once this baby (hopefully, healthily) arrives, I worry some people will forget him. Forget that I love this perfect little boy I made with all my very best ingredients... The boy who stole my heart from the moment I knew he existed within me. I know this is foolish- how could I ever forget the love that I have known? But I still worry people will think this next baby might "fix" the gaping wound in my heart left by my firstborn... People believe "time heals all wounds". But this one? It's simply too deep and too wide for it to scab over.

I will love him, I will continue to long for him with each breath I take, so long as I live and breathe.

The new baby (which I refer to here as "Jack's Baby", because he will never have one of his own, yet I strongly feel he gave me this one to care for in his abscence) will be loved beyond all measure. But Jack's Baby doesn't replace the boy I was growing, dreaming of, and planning for just one short year ago. Never has and never will.

I love you little man. So very much

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Devoted & Vomiting.

Warning, I'm totally over-sharing here. I also make little to no sense.

I remain in love with a little man.  In love with a little boy who should be 10 months old, but instead has been gone as long as he was within me. It blows my mind to know that all the "should have beens" but won't ever be for him. It's not part of his story, it's not part of his life.

I remain devoted to him, to his memory, to ensuring something positive comes from something so ugly... That he becomes a big brother to a whole whack of siblings and that they will all know him... that they all love him and speak of him, too.

In my mind, he will always be a tiny newborn in my heart. He never grew out of nb sized clothing. Heck, his umbilical cord stump didn't fall off until the day of his surgery after he was declared. His lifeline to me gone the day his life slipped away from him. :(

I don't know why this post is all discombobulated. I'm just so sad today, and I am jealous of the people who haven't been touched by this grief. I'm jealous of those who are "innocent" to all of this, and who will never understand the severity of the grief we've been handed.

Bah.

I remain very happy with be pregnant. I am 8w3 today, which is barely anything in pregnancy terms, but I've already decided this baby is going to be nearly as much trouble as his or her older brother. With Jack I was hit hard with vomiting at approximately 8 weeks and this continued until the day he was born. I was on medication to control it, but in all honest it did little to control much of anything at all.

With this pregnancy, the vomiting started at 6 weeks and I expect it will last until delivery, also.  Small price to pay for a pretty baby, so I don't mind in the least. Poor Scott feels helpless when I vomit, and he constantly apologizes as I hug it out with the toilet. I don't mean to gross anyone out, but I'm not talking run of the mill nausea and some gagging. In the interest of keeping things real, I submit to you exhibit A:

Click to enlarge and judge me. ;)
Yep, those are broken blood vessels on my upper cheeks and around my eyes. It's pretty, no really... :\

True story: I've had little in the way of any desire to cook anything so far in this pregnancy. Food in any state really doesn't appeal to me, least of all raw food. Salads worry me because I worry about Listeria and Salmonella. Same with meat. Crazy, right?

Anyway, Scott took me out for dinner on Friday. I decided to order salmon with salad and mashed potato. Yum. Until it wasn't. I had to get up and leave to puke before dinner was served. Then I came back, and knew it wasn't meant to be, so I told Scott to scarf down his food so we could go and I could lay on the couch... He did as he was told and was rewarded with me throwing up 3 times in the parking lot on the way to the car. I believe he then asked to kiss me and we laughed. Seriously, who says romance is dead? ;)

That's it for my vomit tales today. I'm going to watch my Google count to see how many readers I'll lose now.

ha, this post is weird.

Monday, October 3, 2011

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

On Monday September 5th, Labour Day, I had a dream that I was pregnant.

It was a dream so vivid I would have sworn it was really happening. I dreamt I was laying on a bed while the ultrasound technician swept ultrasound gel over my lower stomach and moved the wand around, pressing harder at certain parts of my belly. I actually remember feeling the coolness of the gel on my skin, and the pressure I felt.

In my dream I was watching Scott's face. He was mesmerized by what was displayed for us on the monitor (which is not unlike the first time he saw Jack). The monitor displayed a 12-week(-ish) fetus and the prominent flicker of a heart beat. Baby was dancing and grooving.

As I've said before, I seem to know that Jack is gone in my dreams. I'm yet to ever dream of him. And I know in my dream I was conscious of the fact this was not Jack- it was his brother or sister. I remember being excited, thrilled even, to see that baby on the screen.

When I woke up from that dream, I was happy for the first time in a long while. I had a few days to go before I could begin testing, and I felt confident this may be the month for me.

On Wednesday September 7th, I began peeing on sticks. Internet cheapies. I saw tiny lines, but so faint I was sure I had imagined them. I held them to the light, squinting, turning them just so, determining it was in fact a line I could see. I showed my husband, he said I was imagining things- that I was seeing things only because I wanted (so badly) for them to be seen.

That evening upon my return home from work, I peed on more cheapies, uploading the images so as to invert them on my computer. Still sure I saw a tiny second line, I decided to splurge (my pee) on a First Response. The prettiest, faintest second line appeared.

The next day? Another.

The day which followed? Yup, one more.

I was pregnant.
Custom t-shirts, available here
When I confirmed this for my husband, he began cheering and told me we had "caught one", which is what we had said all along- we just have to catch one egg. We caught it alright. Last Wednesday, we saw the flicker of a wee little heartbeat at 6w4.

The scan was somewhat turbulent. I stripped off, went into the room and told the ultrasound technician that Scott had skipped out of work to come see the baby, and could she please show it to him at the end of the scan. This is what we did the first time around, and it was no problem- 18 months ago. But no, now it's against the rules, the men can not see the baby until 10+ weeks gestation. I don't get it- the first scan can be all some people ever get, and you're going to take this away? I don't even think these are legitimate rules, but perhaps the rules of the centre itself. BLAH.

Needless to say, I started crying. Loudly. The woman told me to stop crying and to start to pray (Um, thanks lady, because you think this is the first time I've thought of that?) that the baby would be okay. I not so nicely told her that our first born had died, and it would mean the world to my husband if he could partake in the ultrasound. She seemed to soften a little, and told me she would see what she could do, but for now she would be silent and would only show me at the end if there was a heartbeat.

Throughout the next 20 minutes there were no words from me as I sobbed silently, facing away from the screen (it was turned so I couldn't peek if I wanted to). She made audible sighs, and then, after we switched to the transvaginal ultrasound, she asked me whether I had a positive pregnancy test.

In that instant, I began thinking of how on Earth I was going to tell my husband there was no baby, after all. How would I un-tell all those who I had told in the early days? How stupid was I to have told anyone?

And then, she finished her scan and unemotionally announced that not only was there a heartbeat, but it was perfect, and measuring exactly right. I was shocked, what the fuck was all the small talk for, lady? She asked Scott's name, and after only a few seconds he came in the room. He looked up expectantly at me, searching my face for answers.

"We have a heartbeat, but the technician isn't sure you'll be able to see it through my abdomen", I began. And he smiled as tech located my uterus, then the fetus- then the tiniest little flicker.

"You made good ones" he told me, eyes not once leaving the screen until the technician removed the wand.

Nope, we do. We make good ones.

Scott has specifically requested these for our delivery, if we're lucky enough to make it that far.
 
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