Pain demands to be FELT

October is miscarriage and infant loss month...
October is also the month that I became pregnant 1 year ago.

I could be blogging about my 2 month old smiling or holding up his head, but here I am, writing about miscarriage and infant loss month.

I would love to tell you that it gets easier with time, but the ache never goes away. Sure, it gets easier to hold babies or see birth announcements without the kind of crying that makes you gasp for air and turn blue, but it always hurts. The aching hole in my chest gets smaller but I think it will always be there, making it hard to breathe. Every time I hold one of my nephews I think of Boston. What would he be like at their age? Would he look like either of them? Sometimes its hard to hold them or look at them too much, but more often its harder to let go of them or look away. My arms and heart just hold on, desperately aching for the baby I never even got to hold.

I think that is the worst part of the loss. Its not the loss of its little life, but the loss of its whole life. It is the future we missed that hurts the most. The birth, the blessing, the first sounds, first crawl, first steps, first words, first day of school, baptism, rotten teenage years, graduation, college, marriage, LIFE! I mean, we only think Boston was a boy and we hoped for and pictured him with red hair, but we don't know. He was only a 12 week old fetus when we lost his heartbeat, and he became a memory to us.

It is the middle of the night (morning?) and I'm up writing this blog because

A. I don't ever sleep, and

B. My heart is so heavy tonight, my chest feels too crushed to relax and/or breathe. I'm just aching.

I think what I'm finding hardest about this month is that I didn't expect to get here and still not be pregnant. I just figured that once we started treatments again- viola!- we would be pregnant again. Not so. And so year three drifts past us. Three years of trying and hoping and praying got me 3 beautiful months of pregnancy, but no baby. And as often as I point out all the benefits of being childless to myself, it is never enough to make me forget him. I just miss him too much. I mean, I don't sleep as it is, but my sleepless nights have no purpose. Oh, what I would give to rock a crying baby in the middle of the night. 

I know there is a plan, and hope is not lost. I know that this life is meant for learning and growing, and I'm feeling pretty educated. I know that somehow someday, probably long from now, some little voice will call us mommy and daddy. I know that you can't force what is not meant to be, and I know that now is just not our time. But I still can't help being overcome with this pain tonight. I can't stop it.

"That's the thing about pain, it demands to be felt."
John Green said that. He's a genius.

XO.

Happy Birth Day, Boston!

Who knows? By now, you might have already arrived, you may have come today, or we might still be waiting to see your cute face. But today is the day the doctors, the apps, and the calculators said I was due to have you. We would have found out if you had the red hair we'd been hoping for, if you looked more like me or your daddy. But, guaranteed, we would have cried with joy over how perfect you were.

Oh, we miss you. We still love you with every beat of our hearts. Nothing could ever change that. You are our greatest miracle, Boston.

I have thought of you everyday since finding out you existed, but you have been heavy on my mind throughout what would have been my last trimester. I don't think I have ever wished to be so fat or hot! I would've loved to have spent the last month waddling around, roasting in the summer heat, waiting for you to arrive. Some days, I still can't believe you're really not coming.

I'll be honest. Mommy has had good days, okay days, and really bad days. The really bad days haven't been my proudest moments, but I can't help how much I loved you or how much it hurt to lose you. I now understand what it feels like to really have a broken heart. I thought I had experienced it before, but I was wrong. It is a real and physical, excruciating pain. When the doctor took my hand and told me you'd stopped growing, that you were no longer living in the little home I'd given you, the words were like hands around my throat. They sucked all the air from me, and when I could no longer breathe, then came the pain in my chest. I felt a fault line form down that center as my heart cracked apart and shattered. Trust me, the 2 weeks that followed were filled with some of the most horrible pain I've ever endured, but nothing can compare to that pain of a breaking heart.  I thought it would stay that way forever. I couldn't imagine how we could ever recover from such emotional pain. There, in the ultrasound room, it felt like all was lost. I didn't know how we ever would move on without you.

But ya know what fixes a broken heart, little one?

Love. 

And, man oh man, are we a greatly loved family! Your Grandma and Grandpa King were constantly by our side. They took care of everything and left us with nothing to worry about. Grandma Garrett came all the way from Arizona to take care of me when Daddy went back to work. And then came the meals, gifts, condolences. I know we are biased, but we really do have the best family and friends in the world! We are so incredibly blessed. They had all loved you the moment they knew about you, too. And it hurt them almost as much to lose you. 

Last, but never least, the pure and all-encompassing Love of the Savior saved our souls. He healed us. Our hearts were mended by his merciful Atonement, and we survived. Because of His love and His plan, you are not lost to us.

Boston, it is hard without you, but it is still a good life. Your short existence brought us more joy than losing you could destroy.

 

So, today, we cannot just sit at home crying our eyes out, wasting your special day feeling sorry for ourselves. Today, we have to celebrate you! We will celebrate our love that created you, and the love you created in those 12 short weeks. Our love for you and each other grows with each and every day. You have no idea what you have done for us. What a special little one you must be to have changed us so much in such a short time.
You are our angel. 

We adore you, sweet Boston.

Happy Birth Day!
Love, Mommy & Daddy

XO

Sometimes ya just need a good cry.

Its hard to believe that July has arrived and is almost over! I thought winter would never end, and then, suddenly, summer is almost over. What's harder to believe is that summer will come and go, and Boston won't be here. Some days it really still surprises me. And I'm amazed by that. I just keep thinking I'll get used to it. But every now and then, I wake up in disbelief that it's not January 10th and this hasn't just been the most horrible nightmare.

Next Tuesday will be my due date, but I won't be going to the hospital or bringing home a new baby. Instead, I'll be spending the day in Park City with Tyler. It will be an amazing day together, I'm sure, and its not a bad way to spend the day, but it's not what I had in mind for July 29th 6 months ago.

I have been running on a serious happy high for the past few weeks. We've just been loving life and feeling great. I got really settled into that and thought the rest of the month would just be a total breeze and not phase me, that I could just keep feeling fantastic. But, unfortunately, I'm actually a human being with a heart. And that heart is still pretty tender. 

Tomorrow is another day, and I'm sure I will feel brighter soon, but for now I'm just going to carry my heavy heart, have a good solid cry and miss the baby I never got hold. What else can I do? Sometimes ya just need a good cry.

Xo.

Bravery

So, I finally read Divergent. GREAT BOOK. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend that you do. It has a beautiful message about accepting who you are, overcoming fear and becoming Brave. 

While I read, I thought a lot about things I am afraid of... which is a LOT of things.

I am afraid of the dark.
I am afraid of water deeper than I can see or stand.
I am afraid of stuffed animals- not the toys, the taxidermy- Like in Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls, and he screams for 2 minutes straight in the room with all the mounted heads.
I am not quite as afraid as I used to be of people dressed in character costumes, but I would probably still run, screaming if Chuck E. Cheese walked up to me.
I am afraid of heights.
I am afraid of confined spaces, whether caused by enclosed walls or a crowd.

I used to be afraid that I would never get pregnant... Now, I am afraid to be pregnant again. 

In Divergent, Four is explaining to Tris what it really means to be Brave, He says. "Becoming fearless isn't the point. That's impossible. It's learning how to control your fear, and how to be free from it."

That really stuck with me. I keep thinking that I have to become fearless to be this Brave person that I aspire to be. Then, I read that and think I am pretty courageous. I used to think that courage and bravery had to be huge, newsworthy, heroic acts. Now, I realize that the small steps we take toward overcoming our fears every day are brave. 

Bravery is walking into the postpartum unit to visit a friend who just had a baby, weeks after I woke up there knowing I had just lost mine.

Bravery is only needing to go to the bathroom once to cry during a baby shower.

Bravery is admitting heartache and crying in my husband's arms.

Bravery is staying strong to hold him while he cries.

Bravery is, finally, realizing that this is not a nightmare, that it has all been real, breathing deep, and no longer trying to "wake up."

Bravery is peeing on sticks again and hoping for the best.

Bravery is having faith in what the future holds.

So, be Brave and Live.

XO.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Do you guys have any kids?"
"No. Not yet..."
"What are you waiting for?!"

What are we waiting for? Oh, just waiting for the doctor recommended time to pass after the D&C I had a month ago. Then, we'll be waiting until we feel ready to move forward and try again after the loss of our little miracle.

This sweet sales associate at Verizon, who is obviously a proud and happy mother, was just trying to make polite conversation. She had no idea that she was asking the most insensitive question you can ask a couple who have tried for years to get pregnant and just suffered a miscarriage only a short month ago.

Tyler and I looked at each other having one of those telepathic conversations couples have. We were having a good day, so we decided to be nice and polite in response. (Not like the day the client at work told me that children were the Lord's greatest blessing and delaying to have children was a sin... Oh yeah, that happened! And I let her have it pretty bad. I wasn't even sorry when she apologized, almost crying.)

"We are just waiting for our bodies to work." *smile*
*embarrassed* "Oh, I'm sorry..."
"Thanks. It's okay."

The conversation could totally have ended there, but of course, it didn't...

"Well, let me tell you a story! My brother's sister-in-law and her husband tried to start a family for 10 years and had no success. So, they adopted. Then, she found out she was pregnant. She ended up having 4 more children naturally after the adopted one! You never know what will happen!!"
Thanks for sharing. *eye roll*

Here's the deal, people:
Do not ask couples questions regarding their plans to start a family. IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! They may be struggling with infertility, they may have just suffered a miscarriage, they may have lost a child, or they may just not feel ready to have kids right now or ever. It is their business, not yours. Starting a family involves the most intimate part of a relationship.

You may think you are asking, "So, are guys going to have kids soon?"
But you are really asking, "So, are you having unprotected sex?" 
What kind of answer do you want? "Yeah, we ditched the birth control and we're just going at it like rabbits. Cross your fingers for us!"
(AWKWARD)

You may think you are just asking, "So, why don't you guys have kids yet?"
But you are just causing us pain, cause guess what! We ask ourselves that every day! If we were as fertile as some of our friends and family we could have 2 kids by now. You have just reminded us of how infertile we are, and how painful it is that everyone else is noticing.

The common misconception after we respond (making you feel like a creep for even bringing it up) is that you must then make it better by telling us about your brother's sister-in-law's cousin's friend's aunt and uncle who tried for 20 years and then had 10 kids. That's cool, but you do not have to tell us a bedtime story. We are adults. A simple apology is fine and we can just move on from the awkwardness that just happened because you asked a stupid question.

But the point of this blog is to help you avoid an apology by avoiding the stupid question. JUST DON'T ASK! Strangers have no business asking about another stranger's personal life. So, don't do it, Please.

Much thanks, from all infertiles everywhere.

XO

BUT I STILL HAVE HOPE

I've been dreading this day all week.
I think if you added up the hours I've slept each night it might equal, or at least be close to, a whole night's rest. I am running on fumes.
I've sped to work every morning, running late, tears falling all over my steering wheel.

Today was to be my 16 Week Ultrasound.

At 2:15 today Tyler and I would've waited in the office and placed our final bets. Then, we'd hold our breath and wait for the reveal... "It's a BOY!" Would probably have produced a huge sigh of relief from Tyler King. "It's a GIRL!" Would have made us both laugh and cry as Tyler went into a What do I do with a girl?? tailspin, and made me hope Please don't be like me! But either way, we would have claimed it was exactly what we wanted and been so incredibly grateful. We would have both laid in bed tonight imagining the most perfect porcelain-skinned, red-headed babe.
For the record we both think Boston was our baby boy. Just a thought.

But that isn't what happened today...

I woke up late.
Cried the whole drive to work.

And at 2:15, instead of holding Tyler King's hand and waiting to find out if little Boston was a boy or a girl, I walked into the doctor's office alone. I waited for them to call my name while woman after woman checked in at the front desk for their first prenatal visit, and the lady across from me rocked her darling newborn.

When they finally called my name, I walked passed the New Arrivals bulletin board covered with birth announcements. Then the nurse took me back to draw my blood for the 3rd time to see if my HCG levels have finally returned to not pregnant.

I'm not pregnant anymore. 

My clothes fit again.
I've lost 6 lbs.
The maternity pants I had just started wearing are too baggy.
The coat with the buttons that puckered over my little bump fits fine again.
My belly is soft and flattening.

What took 3 months to grow has vanished in 3 weeks.

When I close my eyes I can still see the ultrasound.
I still feel confused by the emptiness.
I still feel the way my ears started ringing, aching to hear that heartbeat again.
Behind the ringing I can still slightly hear the doctors apologizing.
I can still hear the sobs that ripped from Tyler's chest that first night.
Then, I remember waking up in post-op realizing how empty I was now that I was no longer someone's home.
I remember, for a second, wondering if they had taken my heart out during the surgery, because my chest felt just as empty.
I remember turning my head and pulling the sheet over my eyes as they wheeled me past the nursery in the postpartum unit, but being too tired to bother to cry anymore.

Days like today I end up talking to Heavenly Father A LOT. I'm a pretty vocal pray-er. I like talking out loud, waiting for His reply. I talk to him just like I would my own dad. I thank Him, sometimes I whine to Him, I ask for His help, and days like today I just beg Him. I beg Him to help me feel the peace I desperately need, I beg for His warming comfort, and I beg Him to show me all His love.
And Guess what! He never disappoints. He went with me to my appointment today. He held me tight while I felt like I would fall apart. And every corner I turn, every day, He shows me His divine Love.

It doesn't mean that life is never hard or that I'm never sad. I'm pretty shattered today, but the Lord always puts me back together. I can count on that. Just when I feel like the darkness is going to consume me, the light of Christ opens my eyes and reminds me that because of Him, even though today was hard, I still have HOPE. My Faith is bigger than my Fear.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you so much.