It’s been a while, huh?

My last post was 2019, although it looks like I made it a private post… but BOY does that feel like a lifetime ago. So very much has changed in the 4 years since then, here’s a recap.

-covid

-FET in October 2020, did not share that we we’re doing that

-pregnancy, it’s a BOY, really rough and traumatic pregnancy

-bought a house beginning June 2021

-Ethan William born mid June 2021

-Infidelity and separation April-July 2022

-Rocky start to reconciliation July/August 2022

-Weight loss surgery October 2022

-began homeschooling March 2023

-Hysterectomy May 2023

phew. I don’t think I’ve really looked at this block of time in this way before but it’s no wonder I feel like 2019 was a lifetime ago!

Where to begin? Let’s do an Emma update, shall we? She’s 5 and a half (do not forget the half, it’s important) and very smart. Such a great older sister, she adores her brother. She essentially potty trained herself at the start of covid and has been such an independent little rockstar ever since. She struggles with some anxiety (which I take full responsibility for) but is working on facing some fears, like roller coasters! She’s an amazing leader and friend, and I am so excited to see her grow.

Speaking of Emma being potty trained, once that was accomplished my body went into full baby mode. It wasn’t a discussion we had, I just informed Eric that I was having another baby and he was welcome to be part of it or not. (Do not recommend this approach, so toxic) He was there every step of the way, but was also not necessarily on board with the decision/timing. We lived in a 2 bedroom apartment and in February 2021 I decided we absolutely had to buy a 3 bedroom house, so we did. Let me tell you, we moved in days before Ethan was born and I have never struggled so heavily with my mental health before. Ethan needed nicu time, our house had major issues we found and was completely foreign to all of us, Eric started a new job and my PPD/PPA was out of control.

Ethan just turned 2 last week, but this boy has done nicu time, picu time for RSV, has tubes from recurring ear infections that caused a 30% hearing loss before the tubes were placed, which has lead to a speech delay…. he’s been through it. He is my strong willed, no fear, selective hearing (he has 100% hearing now, but he uses it only when he wants) LOUD, baby. He loves cars and lays on the floor the way his daddy use to driving them all over ❤️

I won’t pass the other life updates, either. Our kids are thriving and honestly for the first time ever, we are too. I have lost 133lbs and am living my best life since having gastric bypass surgery and a total hysterectomy (long and heavy cycles due to adenomyosis.) And Eric is working as an OTR semi driver 2 1/2 days a week, and is home with us the rest of the week.

We have been through it, his infidelity in 2022 was a huge turning point for both of us. A year ago today is when everything came to light and if you would have told me I’d be in this space a year later I would have probably just cried. I did a lot of that in Spring 2022 because everything was so bad. It’s been a very momumentous year since then, full of uncomfortable truths, healing, learning to communicate, figuring ourselves out and learning to love each other while still putting 100% into raising our babies. So much played into getting us to where everything fell apart in 2022, infertility, losing Ava, seriously traumatic pregnancies, never really dealing with our own childhood traumas and holding tightly to the resentment that we felt in our every day lives.

Since I agreed to reconciliation, I have heard a lot of comments. I’ve been told I’m “strong” because whoever I’m speaking to “could never” and I’ve been told that it’s only a matter of time before it happens again. I’ve also heard some positive sentiments in all of it. All I can say is as hard as it has been to get here, I am proud of where we are. We have fou d a way, together, to build a stable foundation out of literal ashes. Our children have the opportunity to have both of their parents every day and I can say I have found peace and comfort in Eric.

Life is far from perfect. Emma wants everything, always and Ethan REALLY enjoys shrieking and screaming. The days are long but the months are short (I always hated hearing that until I noticed how true it was with my kids growing) and I am beyond grateful to be exactly where I am today. This life, these kids, this man… today I’m going to breathe it all in, I am exactly where I want to be.

Losing Myself pt 2

You’d think having Emma here would have given me some confidence. She’s here, my body can no longer harm her, I can love her.

I was a fucking mess. If you’re a mom you know that there’s this impending doom thing where you play out these scenarios of the worst case situation ALL THE TIM, and this is actually normal. What isn’t normal, however, is that never going away. Emma is 17 months old and I still play these things in my head constantly. I try to control any aspect of our lives that I can because I am so terrified of what could happen, knowing just how much I love her. This all sounds normal, but for me, it’s always very extreme.

Breastfeeding, MANY moms struggle with it, totally a normal part of being a new parent! I hated myself SO MUCH for failing her, I kept trying over and over to make it work, no matter how sleep deprived I was or how excruciating the physical pain was. I kept trying to allow myself the grace to give up and I felt so extremely guilty. Again, I hated Eric, because he couldn’t understand, we had talked about this before Emma was here, for him, as long as she wasn’t starving it was okay. And, he was right, but I hated him for it.

Looking back, honestly, I walled Emma and I into this box. Eric and I lost all connection and I refused to allow him to be a parent, for fear that something would inevitably happen. When I went back to work I regained some confidence, but I know I will never be the person I was before pregnancy, before IVF, before Ava, and before all this pain. I am trying so hard to piece together my marriage, not to be so callous and cold when either of us is hurting, to be more open and loving, it’s hard! I’ve lost so much of my identity in the journey to becoming a mother, it’s hard to go backwards. Honestly, it’s hard to even reflect on these things openly. My heart is heavy just going through these events and remembering the raw emotion I felt. Remembering how much hatred I felt towards Eric when he didn’t/couldn’t understand, the fear of tomorrow/next week/next year. Now what really plays on me is the idea of choice, that Eric will choose he doesn’t want to deal with this anymore, that Emma will one day choose that I’m not a good enough mother… I’m working on it and trying to work through that anxiety, but I find myself generally pushing Eric away so I have control, and having constant anxiety over Emma. I have to take things one day, one hour and sometimes one minute at a time, but I’ m working on it. I’m figuring out who this new me is, because I will never be that person again.

Losing myself

I’m taking some time to really reflect on everything that happened in 2016/2017. Since Emma was born I have dealt with a wide range of emotions, but the one that is constant is a huge amount of anxiety, something I never had to worry much about before we began this journey. Prior to beginning IVF I was always capable of making decisions and pushing through when I was confronted with issues. Now I always have this impending feeling of doom, as if no matter what decision I make it will be wrong and will negatively affect my family and myself.

In a 19 month period, from February 2016 to September 2017, I experienced more than some experience in a lifetime. Because the end goal was forefront I wasn’t processing everything that happened, I just kept pushing through. Little did I know that I was slowly losing my confidence, my optimism, and ultimately losing my identity. My heart slowly broke into pieces as I braced for the next thing to happen and ever since Emma was born I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Let’s recap the time frame when I lost myself. Bare with me here.

February 2016- IVF retrieval- GOOD NEWS! 13 Embryos Frozen! OHSS (over stimulation of my ovaries from IVF medication) causing severe pain that local doctors don’t believe I’m in until they see my ovaries are the size of footballs, each.

March 2016- First transfer, first EVER positive pregnancy test.

April 2016- Miscarried what I’ve always said I assumed was twins.

May 2016- Second transfer, second positive pregnancy test!

May-July 2016- Heavy bleeding throughout pregnancy, constant rollercoaster of emotions  assuming I am losing the baby I have connected with. We found out IT’S A GIRL, Ava Kathleen!

August 2016- No bleeding! I’m pregnant and can feel my baby moving, I was back at work on strict restrictions, I was bonding and preparing, I was about to be a mom in a few months!

September 7, 2016- pain, cramps, enough to have me double over in pain, no bleeding until late, around 7pm, when I immediately go to labor and delivery, assuming it’s the same bleeding I’d had early in my pregnancy, and I’d be home for bed. After 3 nurses try to find my cervix a doctor comes in and tries, informing me I am dilated and my water is bulging. She calls a larger hospital, hands me some pee pads for my car seat and has Eric drive me an hour away. The doctors at the hospital tried to keep me pregnant.

September 8, 2016- Ava is born, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t move, she’s tiny, at 21 weeks 1 day gestation her skin looks bright red because it’s still translucent. She was delivered feet first, and because of a coworkers experience with this same thing, I was terrified she would lose her head while I pushed, which was a real possibility. My heart shatters, I’m sad for myself, for Eric, but mostly pissed that my body failed my daughter. She deserved every chance at life and instead she lived a few moments before her tiny lungs gave up trying and her heart stopped beating. There were so many people in my room when I delivered and all I can remember is feeling such a deep hatred for all of them, for Eric, for myself. I hated everyone for being there, for watching this happen without allowing her a chance to live, everyone acted as if it wasn’t my fault and all I could feel was intense hatred because it was literally my body.
Once Ava was born I had to go into surgery because her placenta wouldn’t detach and I was bleeding out. I lost enough blood that they were positive I’d need a transfusion, but my body figured out how to keep me alive somehow.

September-October 2016- I went on a mission to figure out why this happened and how to prevent it. I found this entire community of women that have also lost their babies, which is the most heartbreaking community to be part of. I helped other mamas through their losses and grieved the loss of my daughter. Eric and I became extremely close but we both kept a lot from each other during this time, eventually causing hostility and distance. I had a surgery in October to place a permanent cerclage (band) around my cervix, to keep any subsequent pregnancies from resulting exactly the same way as Avas did. I found no answers to WHY other than “this can just happen sometimes,” and realizing from this community of women, it’s likely to happen again. I was told by numerous doctors that I shouldn’t get the permanent band because I was electing to have a surgery to place it. Imagine being told it’s more morbid to have a surgery to fix your body than it is to risk having ANOTHER severely premature baby that is guaranteed not to survive.

November 2016- I began another transfer cycle, mid cycle we found something in my uterus that was “unknown”. I had a full MRI and multiple ultrasounds, causing a misdiagnosis of this “thing” being a uterine fibroid. After a trip to Buffalo my IVF doctor did a saline ultrasound and informed me he was positive I had retained a piece of placenta, by this point it was causing sever pain. I had a second D&C the day after Thanksgiving, my doctor actually took pictures of the piece of tissue to show me. Had I not been actively trying to get pregnant again it’s likely that would have been left even longer than the 10 weeks it was there. So, from September 8th to November 25th I had 3 surgeries, all including my uterus. To say I had a lot of animosity against myself is an understatement.

December 2016- I went to NY for my 3rd frozen transfer. We decided only to transfer 1 embryo, as I was scared of the idea of carrying and losing twins. The embryo didn’t implant, which isn’t uncommon in the IVF world, but given everything, I was sure this was just my life now, I’d never be a mom of a living child.

January 2017- 4th Embryo transfer, 2 embryos transferred, after going WAY above the normal protocol for Frozen Embryo Transfer (FET) medications and procedures. I got a positive pregnancy test, but my HCG (pregnancy hormone) wasn’t steady and I was sure I was losing the pregnancy. After a week or 2 of “beta hell” where I lived in limbo, we found out I was in fat pregnant with 1 little baby.

My pregnancy with Emma was torture in so many ways. Imagine being so scared to bond with your baby because you know something will happen and you won’t get to love her, alive, while earthside. I hated Eric because he could never understand the grief and pain I went through, so I pushed him away. I bled off and on, had to get special injections and transfusions weekly, and had every non-invasive test ran. I quit my job because my doctor insisted I was fine to go back and I wasn’t risking the life of my child for a job. I secluded myself in so many ways. Slowly I began to bond with and cherish the opportunity to be pregnant again, but I never lost the fear of losing her. It constantly played in my mind that it was all temporary. I felt sure that my marriage wouldn’t survive losing another baby and even sure I wouldn’t survive it. The end of my pregnancy was quick, which is probably for the best, as I didn’t have as much time to stress over what was going to happen. I was being seen 2-3x a week and ended up having her 2 1/2 weeks earlier than originally planned.

(cont. on Losing Myself pt. 2)

 

 

 

 

Finishing a nursery

When you have a loss, your world flips upside down. You have all these plans and then it’s gone in an instant. When you have a late loss, one where you’ve started making plans and buying things. Baby has a name and a bed. Clothes and maybe you’ve felt movement… that’s where it really fucks you up.

I’ve been through an early loss and a late loss, and I am by no means demeaning the grief and pain a mother feels with an early loss. I’m just saying, once you’ve felt your Baby move, and then delivered that baby alive knowing they are guaranteed to die, it really haunts every part of your being.

I never realized just how far that would go until today. Emma is 6 months and Ava has been gone for 18 months. Today, I finally finished the nursery. I finally made a permanent spot for our baby to be. A place for her clothes (they’ve been downstairs) and a place for her toys and books. I put decorations up and a picture of Emma and her daddy. There is always more to do, but she has a place.

Yes, I realize that some nurseries never get finished. I realize that many people forgo nurseries all together, and this may not seem monumental to many, but, it is. It is because I am constantly over thinking my every move and Emma’s every cough/sneeze/sniffle. I am always terrified that I will only get a short amount of time with Emma, and I vividly remember that pain with Ava, and I never got to see her grow this way.

Being a loss mom, I have a really hard time trusting even Eric with caring for Emma. I trust him with everything in my life, but I have really had to work at trusting that ANYONE is capable of keeping her alive, when some days I’m uncertain that I’m even qualified. Prior to losing Ava, I would have never thought twice about these things. I know Eric is a great Dad, uncle and cousin. He loves kids and although he doesn’t see it, he was meant to be a Daddy. But I have literally had to repeat to myself that he would NEVER allow anything to happen to Emma. That I don’t have to parent him also, because he is also her parent.

Now, I’m going to drink a glass of wine and relax while our little rainbow snoozes! This is the life I’ve imagined and having a finished nursery really is the cherry on the past 6 months 😍

The Birth of a New Beginning

Emma Kathleen Lemon

Born 9/10/17 at 9:58am

7lbs 4oz and 20″ long

My c section was scheduled for 9/23/17 but I was diagnosed with hypertension, causing my doctor to decide to move it up, before my hypertension turned into pre eclampsia. The night before I slept 5 1/2 hours and felt nauseous but ready. When we got to the hospital I felt more anxious. Once we were in the OR I just wanted to vomit. The epidural was painful but not as bad as expected, and finally it was go time!

Eric came in and they tried to get Emma out, but her head was stuck. My doctor thinks it was because of my cerclage, that she had less room. They used a “mighty vac” causing a bruise on her head

And there she was! Raising hell while I turned into a pile of tears. Eric was taking pictures and also couldn’t hold them back, the tears or the pictures. A nurse came in and said “do we have a boy or girl?” One of the doctors yells “boy” and I turn ghost white and then he says “oh I mean girl.” We would have been happy regardless, but Emma doesn’t sounds as good for a boy name.

She opened her eyes and daddy was right there. Happy to see him!!!!

In recovery we were asked about birth control… uhhhh no? Eric & I both did skin to skin and finally headed to our room. We had a lot of visitors that first day, and it scared me at first, but it was amazing to feel the love for our girl.

Emma had her blood sugar checked in recovery and it was low, at 36, so we had to supplement with formula from the start. I try not to feed her too many of the bottles because I want her to associate me with breast milk. I noticed early on that she has a severe tongue tie and heart shaped tongue. She is still breastfeeding when I use a nipple shield, but is only getting colostrum until my milk comes in.

After that, it’s just been adjusting. We came home 50 hours after Emma was born. I’m 99% sure I pulled a muscle in my back…. ouch!!!!

I am absolutely awe struck. This is our baby. Our living, take home, rainbow baby 😍 I have felt like Ava was part of the pregnancy since day one, and I still think that she is still very much part of why her sister is here. Today, our family is complete

Leading up to… and a name change!

I first want to address our name change. As we have now brought two children into the world, Ava, who only lived moments, and now Emma… I felt a name change was necessary.

I need to discuss the intense emotions that went along with knowing Emma would be born 2 days after Ava’s first birthday. I was anxious, sad, excited, terrified… there was really no emotion I didn’t experience in the past week. On Friday, Ava’s Birthday, Eric and I went on a date. We celebrated Ava, Emma and the last of our “married without children” life.

But it’s really difficult to celebrate our living child without mourning our first baby. Since Emma arrived I’ve been asked

“Is she worth everything you went through”

She’s worth every needle, every snow covered road we drove in PA, every terrifying trip to the ER! But, I can’t just say that she’s worth losing Ava. I know the two events are very directly related, but it just isn’t something a loss mom can say!

So without any further ramblings…. I’ll start drafting Emma’s birth story.

Is this reality?

Today is our baby shower, did I really say OUR? As in, a shower celebrating OUR Baby Bean, OUR pregnancy, never did I think this day would come. To be honest, I almost didn't allow it to happen. I kept telling everyone I didn't want a shower because I was scared I'd jinx myself or something would happen, but here I am, unable to sleep much last night, taking a break from washing dishes to write a blog about the emotions I'm feeling.

First and foremost, I feel unsure, like this is surreal and it's not actually for me. I feel so crazy for even thinking that way but how could this possibly be for a baby in my body?

I'm anxious, of course. I have dreamt every night that my water will break at the shower. You'd think that would make me pack my hospital bag, but not so much 😬 I just feel so many different forms of anxiety and I'm a mess because of it.

Mostly, I am unconditionally grateful! For our families and friends that have come together to show how loved Emma and Ava are and how excited they are for our baby to be born and for us to journey into parenthood.

I have made it to 33 weeks, 4 weeks from "term" and 6 weeks from the time frame my doctors want to deliver. I am in shock that we're here, we've made it!

Thanks for listening to me endlessly ramble. I haven't decided what comes next, so I continue a life as a mom blog? Follow our breastfeeding/cloth diapering life in the future? End it with a birth announcement? 🤷🏼‍♀️ I guess we'll see!

Nearing the end of life as we know it

For years I have pictured my life and played many scenarios in my head. I could never just say "when we're in our 50s and our kids are coming home for Christmas" without also thinking "when we're 50 and sitting on the beach alone for Christmas, because we never had kids." My life had been so in the air but in so many ways, still extremely stable, because of the man who chose to marry me, that I always considered all the options.

When we lost Ava, after finally beginning to grieve, I began to grieve the loss of my marriage also. I was so sure that Eric would leave and so would have to re think every life plan, without kids, and without my best friend. I cried to him often because I was terrified that it was bound to happen, and my heart couldn't take anymore loss. But, always the committed and stable man he is, he never wavered, and even pushed me forward when I was ready to quit.

I'm in the final stages of my pregnancy with Ava's little sister, Emma. It's funny how quickly Eric chooses names for our babies and how easily I agree to them, but I love our girls' names. I'm getting anxious about all of the normal things, like sleeping and feeding and germs… but I'm also anxious about the huge life change we're about to go through. When you lose a baby, you don't have time to think, you just act. You act in whatever way eases the pain for a moment, or sometimes, whatever way brings it all to the surface.

This time, we're bringing a baby home, and I worry about my marriage, still. I worry that we won't be on the same page, that the stress will get to us, that I pushed for babies and maybe Eric really didn't want them. I worry that I didn't play out the possible scenario of splitting time with our child(ren) and therefor missing things. I know we're strong and have made it through things many couples would never see the other side of, so I am hopeful, but being "just the two of us" for 8 years, adding another human is SCARY!

For now, I'm trying to focus on Emma. We have 8 weeks or less until she arrives, and my head is filled with her little face. I cannot wait to hold our baby and know she's coming home alive. It's funny, I have all these plans and different ideas for how I want to parent, but I feel like my brain will turn to mush the moment I'm holding OUR rainbow, and hearing her cry for me, for us, her PARENTS.

Thanks for listening to me babble all this time. I am in so many ways at a loss for coherent thoughts. I just can't believe this is our life. This is our life after beating infertility, after losing our baby… it hurts that this is life AFTER Ava, but in some ways, I feel like she has been here for every step of the process since she took her last breathe. 💜

Maybe I should consider a new blog title once Emma is home? 🤷🏼‍♀️

When loss is all you know

We’re 29 1/2 weeks into this pregnancy and I am LOSING MY DAMN MIND! Who knew, after everything we have been through, and every tear we have shed, that the reality of bringing a baby home would be so terrifying!?! 

Let me explain, because I know I sound like a nut case. 

When I had Ava, everything happened so quickly, we had no warnings, there was nothing that could stop what was happening, and there was no “correct” course of action to cope. I felt every raw emotion and handled every day, or sometimes every minute, to the best of my ability, but I was able to be selfish. Looking back I’m not sure how I pushed to the “other side” or how I kept myself from becoming a bitter, awful person. 

Now, with Emma coming in 7-9 weeks (holy shit single digits) my mind is racing! What if I’m really not cut out for this? What if we mess it all up? What if she feels one day that she was our “make up” baby? How do I juggle the overpowering joy I feel to being our baby home, while dealing with the pain that we already brought a baby home, just in an urn?! 

It’s very painful for me, when I realize I missed all of this with Ava. I never saw her movements, felt her hiccups or felt her roll in my stomach. I never saw an ultrasound image of her hair; because it didn’t get the chance to grow and she never had a take home outfit planned for her. The items that were purchased or given to Ava have so easily been passed on to her sister, which hurts in some ways, and heals in others. 

This week I will pack my hospital bag. I will write down my birth plan, which is pretty simple, and I will continue to work on the nursery. I’m sure I will continue having days where grief overcomes me and I feel guilty for loving Emma so much already, but I am trying to give myself grace, as I haven’t lost any love for Ava. 

Below, I posted pictures of both my girls’ feet. Ava at 21w1d gestation and Emma at 29w2d gestation. I’d love to do a picture that is similar for Emma and hang them both up, I love their little toes ❤️

When you look back at your life

It’s been a LONG LONG LONG 15-16 months! A miscarriage, the loss of our first daughter, a negative transfer and now 16 weeks pregnant with our second daughter! Baby girl is doing great so far! 

Now it’s time to start to clear out some of our clutter and move forward with life. Infertility is part of our story but not what defines us, and our journey to our 🌈 is such a dark but beautiful story! These pictures briefly sum up our journey… and the pain my body has been through physically for our babies. 

Now to get through at least 16 more weeks and bring our baby girl home 😍😍