A New Focus

Thanks to everyone who commented on my previous post.  Your words meant a great deal.  Mr SC and I had a heart to heart and things seem to be better, and for that I'm thankful.

I've decided to create a new blog.  There.  I said it and I did it.  Truth is, I've always felt like the pregnant lady in the RE's office posting about Alaina here and mommyhood, while so many are still in the trenches.  I'm keeping this blog because it documented our TTC journey, with all it's ups, downs and heartache, but I'll be blogging solely at the new address.

I can't say enough though how much I value the connections, relationships and friendships I've developed through blogging and so I'm moving.  New blog, new focus.

Much love to you all for being there for me.  I hope to see you at my new blog.

And...don't give up hope.

Wife Fail

I'm not really sure what made me decide to blog about this.  I mean, it's an IF blog and I don't blog that often.  I've been struggling with something though and here I find myself.

This summer has been amazing.  I'm a teacher so I've been a pseudo-SAHM since June.  I have about three weeks left and could cry when I think about going back.  The day is pretty routine but I love it.  I love teaching A things and watching her smile, laugh and grow.

Mr SC is home, too.  I believe I talked about this before, but he did damage to two of his nerves in his arm last July, about two weeks after A was born.  He's been off of work this entire time.  Although he's been limited physically, he's been able to spend A's first year of her life with her.  Priceless!

Yet Mr SC is miserable. He's grumpy and snappy and just yucky. I thought it was due to a health scare that was resolved this morning but apparently that's not it.  He has mild pain almost constantly and is limited physically with what he can do but his wife and daughter are home with him.  I just don't get what there is to be upset about.  Today I said hey...it could be five hours of physical therapy a week (which he hates because he feels like it's a waste) or 40 hours a week of work.  He chuckled a little but it didn't help.

So, I pretty much kicked him out of the house.  I told him to take one of our change jars (which had a half decent amount of money) and go to the casino to play poker (it's been a long time and he loves to play). He left and I feel shitty.

Truth is, I don't want to do things without A.  I've been out with "the girls" once since she's been born and the only other two times were when I couldn't take her with me.  I just don't get it.

Now I'm here, with her, and it really hurts.  This was all we ever wanted, wasn't it?

A Year in the Making

Where did the time go?  Alaina turned one yesterday!  I don't have a little baby anymore!

To coincide with her birthday, she's turned into a definite toddler almost overnight.  Although she started taking steps here and there at ten months and started walking all over (all day long) about a month ago, the last few days she's been babbling/talking much more and seems so much more independent.  I can't get over how different every day can be!

We also went on vacation a few weeks ago.  The beach was great and Alaina loved it!

Here are a few pics of the last few weeks of adventure:

From her birthday party in he dress

Smash cake fun :)

An overcast day at the beach

Do We Really Need "Mother's Day"?

My feelings about Mother's Day are similar to how I feel about Valentine's Day.  It's a stupid made up holiday that only makes people feel worst about the situation they're in.  The only real difference for me is sometimes, men need a bit of a nudge.  Valentine's Day sort of pushes a male to be a little more thoughtful or romantic than they usually are.  For that, I'm thankful and I enjoy every moment of it.

But Mother's Day?   I grew up in a household where I loved and respected my mother.  Sure, there were times where I felt like I hated her (but I didn't) and times when I was furious at her, yet I never screamed the words, "I hate you" or anything like that.  She was my mother and above all else, I respected her and would never have dreamed of treating her like that.  The only thing I really do differently is send my mom a card for Mother's Day.  Her "gift" is that we do something together...visit a botanical garden or get pedicures, the activity isn't really important.  Just as the physical "gift" isn't that important to her.

Mother's Day for so many is just a reminder of what isn't.  So many go through Mother's Day missing their mother who is no longer with them, or they feel empty because this is yet another day where it's rubbed in their face that they don't have a child.  

I was shopping on Sunday amidst two groups of people...men, aimlessly wandering and playing on their phones and several groups, complaining about what to buy their mothers for Mother's Day.  At that very moment, I decided that the only thing I would ever truly "want" on Mother's Day is for my daughter to never feel like that.  I don't want her to feel some sense of obligation to buy me something.  I hope that she grows up wanting to spend time with me, not just on Mother's Day but every day.

Spring is Here!

I'm not sure how things are where you live, but it's been crazy warm here for the last three weeks.  I've been wearing non-summery sandals to work (I'm a teacher) and have been enjoying the early blooms, long walks with the pooches and spending time in the sunshine.

Baby A is now nine months old.  I cannot believe how quickly time is going!  She's been crawling since six months and now officially stands up on her own and is able to let go for a few seconds, too.  Two teeth came through about a month ago and one up top is ready to pop.  It's tough but I love every minute of being a mommy.

Also, as of tomorrow, Mr SC and I are officially finished with TTC and any thoughts of a future child.  Mr SC is having a vasectomy.  I keep pausing about how final it is and thinking about how I should be sad.  Truth be told, I'm not.  We know that somehow we ended up with Alaina and with all that we went through to have her, that she was it.  I can't say with certainty that at some point I won't grieve for what could have been ( I still wince when I see pregnant bellied women in public) but now, I'm happy and we're happy with our family of five (Mommy, Daddy, A and our two pooches).

"Oversharing" Pregnancy Loss and Adding Insult to Injury

Yep. As cliched as this sounds, I've been injured and now I'm insulted.  Honestly, insulted isn't strong enough of a word.  Disgusted and outraged are more appropriate.

If you haven't already read it, there's an article in Macleans about couples "oversharing" pregnancy losses.

Dear Anne Kingston (author of the article),

I'm writing as the author one of the "myriad of miscarriage blogs" that you refer to.  And guess what?  I'm proud of it.    Clearly you have never experienced a loss yourself or your insensitivity and lack of empathy wouldn't have been so obvious in your article.

My husband and I tried to have a child for three years.  While trying to have a child, we experienced four miscarriages in a one and a half year time period.  We sought several medical opinions and I underwent numerous procedures, yet I continued to miscarry.  We found out that we were pregnant again in November 2010 and I gave birth to a healthy baby girl in July of 2011.

We will never know why.  We will never have answers.  Although we are eternally thankful for our baby girl, the never knowing will always haunt us.

I tried therapy.  I tried medication.  I eventually retreated emotionally and pretty much suffered in silence.  People didn't understand.  Sometimes I felt like my husband didn't understand.  What got me through those three years were the "myriad of miscarriage blogs and stillbirth tribute pages" that you referred to.


Why?  The infertility and loss community is like no other.   Online, I was able to connect with people who understood and who didn't minimize my pain.  Sites like www.facesofloss.org allowed women to attach a story and name to their face and connect with others.   Though blogging, I "met" countless other people who shared my experience and "got it".  I finally, finally felt understood.  Had I experienced that type of understanding in real life, coping with the grief would have been much more bearable.


Those who reach out to others when they are grieving aren't going "from stigma and silence to over-sharing as boundaries are tested and even blurred", as you stated in your article.   They are trying to cope and reach out to others for support.   What could the possible harm be in reaching out to others?  

Because of the stigma attached to miscarriage, here I am at the end of my letter to you and I don't know how to sign it.  There's a large part of me that feels it should be anonymous.  Why?  Why should there be  a stigma associated with miscarriage?  Why should I feel ashamed or embarrassed for suffering such painful losses?  I shouldn't, yet I do.  Why?  Because people like you judge those of us who reach out to others for comfort.

Truth Be Told

Hi, everyone.  I miss you.  The IF/RPL community is like no other.  The connections.  The support.

I've been here countless times, trying to write a post.  Truth is, I feel like some sort of traitor.  I've lost followers. I've tried Twitt.er but it's just not the same.  And, although I have things to blog about, they're often mommy things and it doesn't feel right posting them here.

When I do check my blog roll, I always am so happy to *hear* from you.  I think of so many of you often.  I mean, seriously, when you talk about your uterus and se.x all the time, a certain bond forms, doesn't it?

So, here's what's going on.

1.  I went back to work about two months ago, just shy of A's 6 month birthday.  Mr SC was hurt at work about two weeks after A was born, so he's still home with her, which makes it easier.  I also love my job, which makes it easier.  It still is so incredibly tough.  I pride myself on only two meltdowns.  :)

2.  I wish I had more time.  Time to spend with my daughter.  Time to spend with my dogs.  Time to spend with Mr SC.  I feel like every second of every day I try to jam so much in that I'm having trouble settling down to sleep at night.

3.  I'm still struggling with weight.  I started out pre-pg  much heavier than I would have liked and now, although I'm back to my pre-pg weight, I'm still so, well, soft.  Ick.  When I have a minute to myself though, it's tough to choose exercise, even though I know I should.

A is getting big, big, big!  She navigates the entire living room floor by rolling over and over.  She's been up on  all fours, ready to officially crawl since just before six months, but we're still waiting.  She can sit on her own and eats like a champ!  The last time she was at the doctor she was 18 pounds and 26 inches.

I can't believe that she's seven months old already!

And...here she is!

With Santa !

At the official seven month mark

on Christmas Eve (not the best pic of me but I love this one of her!)