Heavy Heart

My mind and thoughts have been consumed heavily with
Natalie, Richie, and their sweet family this week.

There are lots of things I need to blog.
Lots of things to tell you about.
But all of those seem so insignificant.

It has been difficult to think of anything but them.

While I hope to never understand fully what they are feeling, I do know my own personal hell in the loss of our baby almost two years ago. Perhaps this is why Nat is on my mind continually.

Even then I can't imagine loving and holding and kissing your baby
and then to have to let him go.

I have been hugging my three babies close to me, we have been cuddling on the couch more, playing more games, and taking the time to truly cherish all of our blessings.
I hope you are doing the same.

We know and understand that life is precious.
How thankful we are for a plan that will allow us to all be reunited with those we love.

I ask for your continued love and prayers and support to this sweet family.

I am taking the weekend off from blogging and e-mail,
to truly enjoy the blessings I have.

Until Monday.

All my love.

One Year, and Miracles

Bear with me, this will be a long post...

I am not sure why, but even as I sit here, vomitous chunks arise in my throat.



It has been one year since we lost our last baby. One year since my family almost lost me.

I am trembling just even thinking about it. I don't want to think about it.
I don't want to relive it.

For those of you new here, if you don't know the story, you can read all about it here.

How do you move on from something so terrible?

Well, somehow you do. You take it one day at a time, and as I look over to the right of my computer, you can also take it one hole in the wall at a time like I did. You can drop the f-bomb a million times a day, and cry your eyes out until they bleed because they are so tired from crying.

Then you get up, dust yourself off, and try again. Or in our case, try multiple times again and again and get burned...but that is another post for another day.

We miss Peanut. We miss the little spirit that might have been. We think about him/her often. How close we were to finding out what we were having. What joy we had in anticipation. What sadness we felt.

It is common consensus around here that Peanut was/is a boy. So from now on we refer to Peanut as such. This makes J-dawg thrilled because he knows someday he will have a little brother.

(He, on his own accord brings this up regularly. As he was old enough to know and understand when the loss occurred.)

We think of 2008 as a great growing and learning experience here at our house.

We are thankful to have had LJ in our home during this time, even though at the time I wasn't sure why he would come the day before such tragedy would strike our home and our heart. I am not sure why weeks later we would be chosen to be scammed by a "birth mother". Why two months later we would be chosen by another birth mother, only to feel so good and confirming about that situation, to have it fall apart just as quickly. All I know is that, all of these things have been for our good. They have strengthened us, made us quicker to love, less likely to judge, and more ready to help those who are struggling through similar circumstances.

My heart is full.

I can't believe I can sit here and write that after a year.

A heart that was so broken and empty and angry can write that it is now full. Do I have all of the answers to "Why?" no. Do I wish that we hadn't had to endure what we did? I can honestly say now, that no. I am glad we did, for it made us stronger.

Early last fall after I bawled for 45 minutes on the phone to one of my best friends as I travelled to vacation with my family, I realized I had reached my breaking point.

It was around this same time that Hubbs and I decided (maybe more "I" decided...not sure) that if nothing happened for our little family's growth by December of 2008
we were going to throw in the fertility towel, throw in the adoption towel, and
move on with our lives.
Those five months were torture to my soul. One of my good friends asked me, "If this is so hard for you, why are you giving yourself a deadline?" The only answer I could come up with is that I needed to move on from this era of my life, my children needed their mother back, not the crazy shell of a woman that had replaced her. For three years we had been trying to get another child into our home...enough was enough wasn't it? So while it killed me to do it, I knew it was the answer...and in some ways I looked forward to the new year, to our little family, just us, to a new beginning.

Well, let me stop here for a moment and introduce you to someone.





Meet Millz

She is a little shy, this being her first "public" blog post and all.

She has heard that whenever her mom posts exciting news to her blog something tragic happens. She has reassured me a thousand times that this time will be different. But even as I tell you this, I feel like running into the other room to throw up (and that has nothing to do with being pregnant). She even assures me that I will get to wrap her up in the new blankets she HAD to have from Target (she is starting already), and that she can't wait to share a room with her big sister. She is also looking forward to the "rubberband gun lesson" that J-Dawg promised to give her when she gets bigger. I am holding on to her faith because I think she is closer to the Big Guy right now than I could ever be. :)

Heavenly Father works in a mysterious way. I don't suggest you give him a deadline, because just as you start getting comfortable with the way your new life will be, he will throw you a curve ball. A miraculous, beautiful curve ball, good thing I am good at bat.

We found out in December (can you believe it?) that this sweet baby would be joining our family.

We told no one.

I don't think we even told ourselves. Hubbs and I just walked around the house like, "Word." and "Holla." And that was that.

Why?

Well, because for the first three months there was intermittent bleeding and spotting. If I had a session, it was the death of me, I would bleed for days. At first I didn't even believe I was pregnant because well, Aunt Flow came to visit a few days early. I even blogged about being THANKFUL that she had. So silly of me.

I spent the first four months on the couch. SICK...SICK...SICK...and worried that if I did "too much" I would lose this baby too. I was so so so afraid to hope.

When I saw the doctor at 8 weeks, I saw the heartbeat via ultrasound. Even that didn't suffice. We told our kiddos at week 17. We finally told family around week 18. We had our ultrasound at week 20.

I am now at week 22.

You would think that I would be feeling better about things. I am faithful, I am extremely hopeful. I can't imagine that this would end badly as well. Would I be broken and lost if it did? Probably for a time. Would I eventually move on and learn? Most definitely. For now, I am taking it one day at a time. We, as a family are taking it one day at a time. It is maddening. It is hard to function, to just let go and let what will be, BE...but I can't. So each day is spent in agonizing worry, worry until I feel her move, worry until I see the doctor again. I wish it wasn't so. For this reason I didn't want to blog about it. But tonight, as I thought about Peanut, as I thought about all of the other babies that were to have been, I think how happy and excited I was for each and every one of them, and how this sweet girl deserves that too. She deserves to hear the happiness and congratulations from my friends. She deserves to be welcomed and wished for and hoped for.

Despite my heart.
My crazy, crazy heart.

This is our last shot. We found out at our ultrasound that I may be having surgery shortly after the baby is born (she is due July 30). They found a cystic tumor on my right ovary that they are watching and will remove after she makes her arrival. We will let you know more when we know more. This has shaken me a bit. Not sure what to think...I may end up "wombless" by the end of the year. Tee hee...one can only hope to not have periods ever again. I have a great doctor. I have a great Hubband. We are in good hands all around. We are in the Master's Hands.

With great trial cometh the blessings.

We are counting ours each and every day.

Frosty.

I don't think I have ever gone so long between bloggings. Really, I am sure I have, but I don't recall.

I have missed it. Kind of. Part of the reason is my disdain for sitting in front of my computer and wanting to soak up as much time as I can before I start working again in January. I have loved leaving my computer off for the last week. Seriously, I haven't even warmed up that baby since I can't remember.

Joy.

Christmas was wonderful and magical and all things incredibly yummy. I did, however spend a great deal of time kneeling to the porcelain gods. Oh how I hate them, and of course being sick like that wouldn't be complete without my kids and I getting a cold. YUCK. We were sick on Christmas, but thankfully no vomit was involved that day. Praises.

Our anniversary was last Tuesday, December 23. My heart aches that I didn't even make a special post for Hubbs. Since I was seriously, freakishly sick that day, we didn't do much. We did get a sitter and went out to dinner to of all places Sizzler. I do love me a good Malibu Chicken Platter. (Really, nothing should EVER be referred to as a "platter".) Afterwards, we had some yummo ice cream from the BR. It was only like -13 below zero (not really) but we saw some peeps eating ice cream and had to join in. Love to follow the crowd. My husband gave me the sweetest present ever. I will have to make a special post all about it, even saying that, the gift is almost too precious to share with anyone else (but I will because that is how I roll...). Let's just say it had me bawling like a freaking baby in the middle of Sizzler. He done good. I love you Hubbs. Thank you for making the last 8 years some of the best of my life. I couldn't imagine going through the trials and heartache, and laughter and smiles with anyone but you. Eternity is going to be the bomb diggity.

What was your favorite gift this year?

Today.

****People...you have one more day to BID...so please do. Fun will be had by all. (Let's see some bigger numbers today. I'll close the auction out at 11:59 p.m. Mountain Standard Time Friday, September 5, 2008.)****

Onto other things. Today was September 4.

Today was suppose to be my due date for little Peanut. In honor of this day I ate exactly that...almost an entire bag of Peanut Butter m&m's. My hips, butt and thighs will NOT thank me later. In honor of this day, Aunt Flo decided to wake me up at some obscene hour of the morning to let me know her flight had arrived. Hate her. She is not welcome.

I stained our little deck. Someone had to. I decided today it should be me. My kids were angels while I did it. I seriously have the best kids on the planet. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about how lucky I am to have them. (Go kids!) Staining the deck was very theraputic. I was lost in my thoughts for a few hours, enjoying the last of the summer sun. Thinking about the past six months and how I can make the next six the best ever.

I was brought to contemplate on how thankful and blessed I am to have my health, my home, my sweet husband and my J-Dawg and my Memms.

Even though today was hard, and deep down I would be lying if I said I didn't wish it were different, part of me is thankful that it wasn't. That part of me is thankful for all that I have learned so that I can continue to learn and to grow and to rely upon my Father in Heaven.

Pregnancy Loss. Miscarriage.

I have about a million things I want to blog about. For some reason today this is taking priority.

I got a call today from a really old and a very dear, dear friend to me. See, she and her husband found out about three months ago that they were expecting twins! TWINS! How wonderful right? Well, yesterday, the found out that one of the babies did not make it. This is a deep and a profound loss as these babies were miracle babies conceived through IVF.

Hearing this news pained me deeply. I talked to her of my deep sorrow for the pain she is feeling, and for the undoubtable lack of significance that will be shed on her at this time. Because she is still pregnant with one beautiful tiny life, she fears people will forget that they began as two lives...and that is hard for her to handle. I told her how sorry I was, and it pained me to hear her say, "Oh it is okay." To which I replied, "NO IT ISN'T!"

So for me, I'm here to talk about what to do if you know someone struggling with pregnancy loss, no matter what stage of pregnancy, and how to help them, what to say, what not to say...none of this is gospel. It is just my take on stuff that I have gone through and the way I feel now. I will be completely honest and say that I never took "miscarriage" so heavily in the past until I lost a baby of my own. I was probably like most of you...or some of you, when you hear someone had a miscarriage. "Oh that sucks." "You can try again!" "You still have two beautiful children." And the list of well meaning thoughts goes on and on. Here are some things that have been on my mind constantly for the last little bit and especially today as I thought of my sweet friend.

When you talk to someone who lost a baby...tell them how much it stinks! How unfair it is! And if they try to tell you it is okay...tell them it IS NOT okay...and let them feel anger. Be there to listen to them if they want to talk, and respect the desire to be left alone if that is what they want. With that being said, you can do the following whether they are wanting to be surrounded or left alone. Just do it!

Do send a card in the mail.

Do send flowers.

Do make dinner.

Do offer to watch children so the couple can go on a date.

Do give giftcards to Blockbuster and a tub of popcorn.

Do bring Baskin Robbins.

If the person wants company, do their dishes...do their laundry...do vacuum....do something.

Husbands:

You have had a loss too, do talk about how you are feeling with your partner.

Do hold your partner when she throws things at the wall.

Let her throw her fits and tantrums.

Do hug...a lot.

Do support your spouse if she needs a little medication to help her through the loss.

There are a lot of things not to do. I'm not sure how to handle them because everyone is different. My biggest suggestion is trying not to lessen the loss. Allow someone to grieve. I am a very spiritual person. I believe every living thing has a spirit. I believe that these tiny lives have a spirit the second they are conceived. It is a loss. It is real. The feelings are tragic. Most of all be a true friend.

I know I am so thankful for mine during our struggle. I can honestly say I am healed and happy because of the love of so many. Hope this can help you help someone else.

Jewels in the Crown

Help me out here.

My mind and heart are all consumed with the events that have transpired over the past 12 weeks of our lives. My life in particular, as this is my blog. (I just need to reference the fact that I have not been going through this alone...that Flavio, Joth and Emm are right here going through it all with me.)

I never thought in a million years that so much shiz could be piled onto someone in the short spance of 12 weeks. I recognize that it could be a heck of a lot worse, and by all means I am thankful that it is not worse...but in our little corner of the Universe, it is pretty crap-filled.

If you ever asked me would I have lost the chance to raise three little spirits in the short amount of time of three months...I would have laughed at you in the face. I would have said, "NEVER!" I would never have put myself in that position. How utterly naive I was. How utterly naive I am.

When I get dressed in the morning, I see that little infant car seat sitting on the floor...I think back to how it got there. When my friend asked to borrow it...then I never put it back in the garage because Peanut was coming...then I never put it back because a little baby girl was coming...it is still there, and I just don't know what to do with it now.

We haven't heard from Chelsia for over a week. Her due date is June 25. The story about this is long and exhausting. I have lived this once before. It is excruciating. I've never shed so many tears, I have zero answers. I don't even know what to tell the world about this. I wish I even knew what to tell myself.

My husband and I are to this point that we are "DONE" whatever the meaning of that is. Done with building our family. I guess that is what we are feeling. (This is uber personal...and we still have some leg work to do in regards to the final decision...but this is where we are leaning...) even though I think this could be good, it scares me to death.

The thought of never holding a new baby in the middle of the night...watching someone crawl for the first time, walk for the first time, find another binkie, wash another bottle, clean spit up off my dry clean skirt...those are hard things to potentially let go of. On the flip side, to devote all of my time, talents and energy on the two beautiful jewels I have been given...well that is a very appealing choice as well.

I've heard it all, "You guys are SO young...you shouldn't make this decision now." "You have plenty of time." "You'll get pregnant again." "You can always adopt another baby." "What about Foster Care?" I don't know. I know that I had this perfect idea of how I wanted my life to go...and I didn't think that it would be where I am right now.

I've learned a lot. I'm thankful for the two sparkling jewels shining in my crown right at this moment...and the one little beam of light watching over us from heaven...three's a good number right? I've done enough haven't I?

I wish I knew.

Close to the Surface

It is my hope that this is the last long post I will have for awhile. Hopefully the last post, that when I read it I see a girl who is hurting and feeling a bit sad and perhaps sorry for herself. I hate seeing this girl, but know that she must heal. I think she is doing just that, she just needs to get it out one last time and take a step forward and move on.

I had my follow-up appointment with my doctor today. I feel like for the past five days or so, I have done really well, at well...not crying. Everything else hasn't been so good. I have just felt this heavy, dark weight upon my shoulders. I can feel myself not wanting to leave my house, forgetting to eat (literally, I just feel no hunger...I have been eating though, forcing myself to get well physically), having a hard time sleeping. So, I thought to myself a couple days ago, "Gee, this sounds a lot like the symptoms of depression." Since today has been 16 days since we lost Peanut, and since that time today was the THIRD day I actually put on makeup and tried to do something with myself, I decided that this had to stop, and that it wasn't getting better on it's own.

The second my doctor came in and sat down, began discussing with me the pathology reports from the baby, I started crying. I was fighting it so hard. I just feel like I am not getting through this as well as I should. Sure, with Joth and Emm, I felt the baby blues, but I had this gorgeous baby to stare at, cuddle, love and hold all day long. Now, well I still have those gorgeous kids to cuddle and hold, plus one more, but it wasn't the same. As much as I love these three beings, there is this huge hole in my heart. It didn't make sense as to why I feel so heavy until the nurse was giving me a shot of progesterone in my hip. Her words were comforting, she let me cry, she gave me a hug, and told me what I needed to hear, and that it was okay to have some chemical help through this. So, for the next few months I'll be on a really low dose of an anti-depressant. I haven't started taking it, I am afraid really. I'm still holding out that this dose of hormone helps me like they say it will. Hello sunshine, I am waiting for you. ;)

I discussed a lot of things with my doctor, crying all the way through it. Hating the fact I had to be back in that office, in the same room that I heard our baby's heartbeat only six weeks ago. I hated sitting there waiting for the doctor, then for the nurse. I wanted to run from the room screaming and never return. I'm not sure if things feel more clear or more clouded. That the things he told me are to make me feel better about what happened, or more of a failure. (Not a literal failure, but the failure that one inevitably feels when things don't go as planned.) I just don't know where to put my foot next. Which road do I take, which one do I pursue, which one do I leave behind? I am flipping baby hungry...I know I am not alone in this feeling, I just had to say it. My heart just aches still.

I'm hoping today was the last of the heavy sobbing. My emotions have been so close to the surface, when Flavio called me after my appointment and I was crying he had the nerve to ask, "Why are you crying?" Wha? Did you just ask me, "WHY AM I CRYING?!" Seriously. GAH! I'm crying because I feel a loss, I am crying because I made it so far into my pregnancy, made it through the sickness, the debilitating headaches, the FAT gain, the swollen face, and when I look in the mirror and see my more slender figure, my watch that no longer stays on my wrist the way it used to, I can see that I am not the same person I was almost 20 weeks ago. That should make me happy, but it doesn't.

I'm determined to move on from this trial. While I shall never forget it, I don't want it to overtake me, to consume me so that I always remember the pain of this event. I don't want to count weeks up until my "due date". I want to move on and live, and prepare for the next adventure, the next blessing, even the next trial. So, that is what I am doing. Even if there are more days of emotions close to the surface, I have other things to take care of, other children to prepare for, to seek, to find, along with life that is waiting beyond this dark knot in my rope of life. Such a tiny glimpse of eternity. There is a spirit waiting for me, pushing me forward. I have a testimony that this spirit is not sitting around waiting for me, watching me feel sorrow, they are working, smiling, doing all they need to do to gain all the blessings promised to them...and so do I.

I'm thankful that this trial happend so close to Conference. My testimony has been strengthened. I truly feel like the Lord spoke to MY heart, and told me things that I needed to hear. I am listening, I'm ready to get back to work.

I want to thank everyone for their love and support.

Amanda for the beautiful flowers that lasted seemingly forever.

Cassie, in the midst of her own trials, came to see me in the hospital, brought the most beautiful figure of a mother and a child. And later in the week brought us TWO of THE most delicious dinners I have ever eaten, and has continually called me (even though I don't call her back. Seriously, once this depression is over, I owe you big time!). And love to Tim who called Flavio.

Carly, who brought us over our favorite pizza in the world, joined us for dinner TWICE then came over to my house AGAIN when my four year old let her in without us knowing...and I walked upstairs to catch her doing our dishes! She stayed all day and played with the kids so I could rest for a few minutes, and gave us a beautiful reminder that our Savior loves us so much.

Casey, who mopped my floor in prep for LJ's caseworker to come, helped wrangle my kids into bed, and read them story after story. She also made us a delicious dinner and gave me a dozen beautiful roses.

Amy and John who were thoughtful enough to want to bring us food, but instead humbled themselves to come and enjoy the mountain of food that we had already been given. They cheered our hearts and made us laugh, and I got a free chiropractic adjustment from it...when they move back home I'm all over John's practice! It was nice to have John here to buoy Flavio's spirits as well. I know how much HE needed it.

The R House, specifically Mrs. R. who brought us some killer lasagna and dinosaur chicken nuggets (that we just ate yesterday and they were freaking awesome...would you believe that FLAVIO made some homemade honey mustard? Well, I added the honey...but the rest he did. Mmmm.) as well as ice-cream and pie and a TON, I say A TON of movies for me to enjoy. I have loved just vegging in front of a good movie. Thank you!

Leisha, who was gone at the time of losing Peanut, but who lovingly made us dinner the week after I got home from Hawaii when I was having some spotting and feeling like basic CRAP...she was on top of it like a BFF should be and brought us a HUGE dinner. I can't thank her enough for that! ;)

Arianne and Jayna who sent me a beautiful bouquet of spring flowers. As well as many phone calls of love and e-mails expressing heartfelt sympathy. (Again, so sorry I haven't returned them...I just feel so heavy the thought of doing much is so hard...but I am thankful for it!)

Lace, who brought us pizza, "the kind with circles on it" Jothan's "fravorite". And chips...holy cow how the kids loved those chips. And the cookies, which unfortunately I ate TOO many of. It was SUPER nice to have that dinner!

Amy, who I e-mailed on the Friday after I got out of the hospital and cried to via e-mail (if one can do that) and she brilliantly convinced me that the ward should know what happened, and got us three more meals.

Amy, whom I missed as I was taking little LJ to the doc...she brought me some BEAUTIFUL roses and some yummo chocolate, chocolate, chocolate cookies...she is like eight months pregnant and she BAKED. FOR. ME. She wrangled her three year old and went TO. MY. HOUSE. She deserves a medal. ;) She is one of my dearest friends in the entire world. She deserves a better friend than me!

Wendy and Dan, who came to the hospital, and gave me the most cuddly teddy bear that I am no longer owner of (thanks Emm, Jothan, and LJ). Then brought us CHEESECAKE and lots of laughter. Flavio was so happy to have a DUDE around! ;)

The ward, who brought those meals and stopped by to give blessings and words of comfort and peace.

To ALL OF YOU, who sent e-mails, cards, letters, thoughts, phone calls, comments, and love. Each and every person has touched my heart and has helped me through this horrible and yet strengthening experience. Even though I am not thanking you each one by one, hopefully someday I can and will! Your kindness has not gone unnoticed. ;)

THANK YOU! I can't say it enough and it feels so inadequate, but THANK YOU!

This is it.

****Disclaimer: Please be advised, especially if you are of the male species, or are faint of heart, I talk about a lot of "womanly parts", issues, blood and lots of details that go with losing a child in utero. Please feel free to read on, or please know that you have been warned. Thank you. ****

EARLY Sunday morning. We're talking 1 a.m. so early in fact, none of us had even gone to bed yet. So, I guess you could say late Saturday night, I was giving my kids a bath. (Yes, I realize that seems like an unusual time to be giving your kids a bath, but we had been gone ALL day and had JUST finished putting the new beds together, put on the sheets, and needed to give baths for church the next day. It was then that I noticed some spotting. It was right before I was giving the kids a bath, and it was enough to freak me out, but not enough to send me to the ER. So I called Flavio up to give the kids a bath. We talked about what to do. Most of the books say this is normal. I was a bit worried this time as this wasn't the first time in the last month I have had this problem. We decided to see how things went on Sunday and then call first thing Monday morning to see what the doctor wanted to do.

Sunday morning, I woke bright and early, I think 6:30 a.m. as I had to go and pick up LJ from the Shelter Home at 9:00. We had church at 10:00 a.m. It was Stake Conference. I was an EMOTIONAL WRECK all day on Sunday. I was feeling like an emotional roller coaster. I would be fine one minute, horrid the next, yelling, screaming, crying. LJ was not a good boy at church and my children were not the best either...and then there was me, not helping the situation at all, and Flavio not wanting me to do much since I was spotting earlier that morning. The bleeding had stopped, so I wasn't too worried. It wasn't enough to even worry me to wear a pad or anything at church. That is how I am talking, no worries. Anyway, Conference was great as we had a special guest Boyd K. Packer. I can't tell you now what he said, I had wanted to blog about it...but life was a little crazy that day. After church I just wasn't feeling tops. We were to go to Flavio's parents for lunch right after, but decided that I, and the kids needed a nap. I never did fall asleep, but at least the kids got in a solid hour. Still, I wasn't bleeding anymore, so I was feeling a lot better about that, but was anxious to call the office in the morning.

Dinner with the family was good. My husband's cousin was there with her new baby, and everyone took the kids outside to play so I got to hold little Daniel for two hours while he slept and I enjoyed me some "Shall We Dance". It was a good movie, I hadn't seen it. It was so nice to just sit there and relax after an emotional day. We came home, got all the kids in bed, and surprisingly all went smoothly. We decided to have Emm and Joth share since LJ sleeps with the door shut. (SO nice...can I just tell you. My kids would NEVER!) Then Flavio and I stayed up until about 11. We usually stay up watching CSI Weekends until 2:00 a.m. but I was EXHAUSTED. So we went to bed, and again, the bleeding was non-existent.

At about 3:45 a.m. Monday morning I woke up with the feeling that A: I had either "peed myself", or B: The fact which I knew, I was bleeding. I ran into the bathroom and indeed it was the latter. There was a lot. I yelled for Flavio, then started bawling, and shaking, knowing instantly that the possiblity of this pregnancy going to full term was not good. We got dressed, Flavio gave me a beautiful blessing. How he even found the words was just a testimony to me that he was not the one giving it. I really wish I could remember everything that was said, instead I just remember the reassurance that I felt. The promise that this experience would only strengthen my testimony if I would allow it to, and that Heavenly Father loved me. I calmed a little at that, to the point that I wasn't wracking with sobs anymore. Flavio called his parents and they got to the house at 3:55 a.m. Somewhere in there I had called the emergency line to my doctor's office, spoke to the doctor on call and he told us to go to the emergency room.

We arrived shortly after 4:00 a.m. Love that my husband sped the entire way. He is really mad he didn't get pulled over. Funny. We walked into the ER and we were helped immediately. The new IMC is 'da bomb! The nurse who helped me then was SO great, and reassuring. We waited a little bit when Dr. Burke a.k.a HOTTIE came in. (Edited to note...by Flavio, that he was as BUFF and "TOUGH" as he is. Sorry honey, Dr. B was a little hotter than you. :( Hope you still love me. ) He had to have been my age if not a year or so older. Of all times to have Dr. Hottness, it had to be now, I hadn't showered in 24, and my eyes were the size of ping pong balls with their swollen redness. He talked to us about what was going to happen. They would do a small ultrasound, and go from there. They brought in the machine, and Dr. Burke proceeded to look for little baby Peanut and hopefully the heartbeat. He couldn't find one. I know that he tried so hard to find one, because he said, "Kim, I am so sorry I can't find a heartbeat, now that either means I can't find one because this ultrasound machine is too small, or it means that your baby had died." Commence ugly cry and me reassuring Dr. Hottie it was in fact that the baby was gone and it was okay for him to say so. I could tell he was hurting for us. (Dr. Hott had on a CTR ring, which for me made me feel a ton better. I am not sure why...but knowing he was LDS was really comforting for me at that moment.) Dr. Burke called down an ultrasound tech to take us down to another, more appropriate machine. It was his job to determine if in fact there was a fetal heart tone. Flavio recalls never seeing anyone look so hard for something. Flavio said he saw him type no fetal h/b, then delete, look again, then re-type. He then gave us the news that in fact the baby had died. He proceeded to give a full ultrasound, just like they do when the baby is 20 weeks. The glorious one where they measure, then tell you what sex the baby is etc. Unfortunately, they could not tell if our baby was a boy or a girl. There is a lot of discrepancy as to how old our baby was when they died. It could have been as much as two weeks. They aren't sure. I didn't want to watch the ultrasound, but looking back I am so glad that I made myself take the small glances that I did. I saw the beautiful little hands, and profile, and little tiny face. Those images are all I have to carry with me. I wish I had forced myself to watch more, but my heart was burst and I wasn't sure how much I could handle without totally losing it.

We went back to our room where Dr. Burke informed me I would get every girl's favorite exam. This nurse brought in "The Pelvic Cart". Really that is what it was called, she pulled out all the "necessities" and the special "speculum". Dr. B. literally says, "I'm gonna need a bigger speculum. I know that isn't what you want to hear right now." Commence joking laughter...and me just thinking get this the heck over with PLEASE. So he does his biz with that, then proceeds to "find my cervix". Poor Dr. Hott, probably only had to do that exam 5 times in his entire life, couldn't find my cervix. It was THE single most painful exam I have ever had. And believe me I have had my fair share...thanks endometriosis. Basically I wanted to scream..."IF YOU HAVEN'T FOUND IT...YOU WILL NEVER FIND IT!" I have a freaking weird uterus, once I explained that, he found my cervix and told me it was dilated. Lovely. So, he finishes his biz, is washing his hands and tells us that he is going to find the doctor on call and decide what they want to do. Begin ugly cry again, and for the first time in my life, I stand up for myself and said, "DO NOT SEND ME HOME LIKE THIS!" I refused to go home, suffer hemorrhage, pain, anguish, and have to dig my baby out of the toilet so they could examine the tissue. I could not handle that...yay me for freaking out. Dr. Burke said, "I won't make you any promises, but I will tell him how you feel."

In comes Dr. Irion. Holla to Dr. I. because he made us smile, laugh, cry, and feel better all at the same time. He gave us A LOT of options. Go home, stay and they could induce labor, or three, they could do a D&C. He said if I had come in a few days later, the only option I would have had then would be to induce labor and give birth vaginally. I cannot tell you how thankful I was for being 16 weeks 3 days pregnant and not 17 weeks. I don't know how I would have dealt with that. Dr. E. was going home for the day...and Dr. Larkin was on call. He came in and visited with us, they got us up to Same Day Surgery by 7:30. They had given me some morphine for the pain, and probably to keep the crazy one at bay. I was thankful for that because I was feeling REALLY good. Not so much emotionally, but physically. I was loving the cable on TV, and enjoyed me a few hours of "A Baby Story" and "Bringing Baby Home" on TLC. You should have seen the looks on the nurses faces when they came in. Something to the effect, "Why on earth is this woman watching this?" Ya, I know...but I did, I wanted to, my favorite shows, we don't get to watch at home. I sent Flavio home around 9:30 a.m. to check on the fort...and to get his binder with all of his client information, as he needed to cancel a lot of work for the day. Besides, it could be HOURS before they got me in. 15 minutes after he left they were ready for me.

They wheeled me up to the OR, and met with Anesthesiologist a.k.a Dr. Hotty #2. As they were prepping me, he was so great to me, told me to have a nice nap! And that is all I remember until I woke up. Now, if any of you out there have ever been "put under" you may recall what it is like coming out of the anesthetic. I have gone under once before, and I still get embarrassed about the things I said and the way I came out of it. This time was very different. I could not open my eyes but I remember being very clear minded. The first thing I heard was, "Hi, my name is Jenna, I'll be your nurse while you are in recovery." Two minutes later, I said, "Jenna!? Jenna. I really feel like I am bleeding a lot!" To which Jenna replies, "Kim, that is really normal to feel after this procedure." To which I replied, "No, Jenna, I really feel like I am BLEEDING TO DEATH!" Jenna ripped the blanket off of me at that point and said, "Okay!" Within a minute there were five people around my bed. Dr. Larkin was not far behind. I was being turned to and fro (still trying to open my freaking eyes that wouldn't work). It was like something out of ER..."40 units Pitocin stat", "something units in her BUTT, stat" etc, etc...there were shots in the bumm, two different narcotics pumped into the I.V. and one very nervous doctor calling for an ultrasound machine. They finally found one, he couldn't see very well, so he called his ultrasound tech down from the office. I can't recall what they were looking for, I heard a lot about "clots" and "fetal parts" to which I remember wanting to YELL...EXCUSE ME!? I am AWAKE. I don't think they thought I was. Anyway, Dr. L gave me three separate exams within a five minute period, each time literally pulling huge clots from inside me. And pushing SO freaking hard on my uterus that I literally have bruises. I was crying, so out of it, no husband (I was in recovery anyway.) Sweet, sweet Jenna took my hand and let me squeeze the living daylights out of it. I don't ever remember hurting so much in my entire life. All I could remember with my closed eyes and brief eye openings, the prayers that were going through my head. "Please Father in Heaven, don't let me die, let them get this bleeding under control." "Please don't let this end in hysterectomy, I don't think I could go on after what I have suffered." 40 minute hemorrhage. I don't think anyone is sure how much blood I lost. I remember when it had finally slowed enough, and the doctor just telling them, "We need to watch her for five hours." Not sure how long I was in recovery, it felt to me like 15 minutes, Flavio said it was more like 2 hours. I have never seen a better sight then when they wheeled me out and my sweetheart was waiting by the elevator. I just love him so much.

They took me downstairs back to Same Day Surgery, hoping to watch me for a few hours then send me home. These rooms are not equipped to handle (nor are the nurses I believe) what I had just endured. It was an awful four and a half hours waiting in that little room. I WAS SICK! I had gotten a SEVERE headache, from either the lack of blood, or the number of meds that they gave me, or a combination of both, that and I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. I was not in good shape. I slept for a while. Dr. L. came to see us around 2:00 p.m. did his "clot check" as I like to call it...feels much like an entire fist going in somewhere it shouldn't...wilst a painful push to the uterus through the tummy. Gah...pain. Finally around 4:30 p.m. I wasn't bleeding like they wanted me to, and the concern overcame the need to send me home, so Dr. Larkin admitted me overnight to the Women's Center.

I got up to the room at about 5:00 p.m. And waiting for me were some more GLORIOUS...(I say that with all sarcasm) uterine contractors...and THE SWEETEST NURSE ON THE PLANET. I know without a doubt that Heavenly Father made her my nurse. Marcia...she was so kind, and so loving, took me to the bathroom...and talked to me for the rest of her 2 hour shift. (Flavio had to go home because after all we had LJ...and no more babysitter for the rest of the evening...which meant I would be alone. I was okay with that, in fact, I longed to be alone.) Marcia shared with me her experience with mulitple miscarriage...always at six weeks gestation she told me. She talked about her two lovely children, now adults that were adopted through LDSFS. Dr. Larkin came in at around 5:30 p.m. to see how things were going...MUCH better...and luckily only a uterine push from the outside. (YAY!) He told me what a scare "I" gave them. Tee hee..."I" are you kidding me?! I joked about that. He was glad I was staying the night so they could watch me and make sure things were okay.

After Marcia left a few of my sweet friends came to visit, Wendy (whom I BEGGED to bring me her new baby...(the birth story if you remember.)), Cassie, Carly, and my parents. My little sisters came with my parents, I think they were really afraid I was going to die, and just begged my mom to see me. I was sad everyone came ALL AT ONCE...only because I would have loved to visit with everyone a little more one on one...(don't be sad that I say that, it was wonderful to have all of you, I just felt like I didn't get my full use of you...and felt bad for you. ;). The other sucky thing is everyone kind of left all at once and I was left alone to think about what I had just endured. The new nurse was sweet, but I could tell she didn't know what to say to me or how to act. She brought me lots of graham crackers and Lorna Doone cookies. Not my favorites, but I am loving graham crackers now. ;) It was hard to hear the baby in the room next door and to realize that of all the times I have been on this floor, visiting my friends, and remembering the last time I got "the green water mug" and had hospital bands, they would bring me a baby every two hours to nurse, and that I would get to take that baby home. I didn't sleep well. I woke at 5:00 a.m. for a shower. I just wanted to go home. Dr. Terry came in at 8:00 a.m. and signed my discharge, checked my progress and jokingly told me my husband would only get "two weeks of cold showers". Sorry honey! Breakfast came, and I cried when I was done and I saw the menu, and that my diet was the "New Mom" diet. I wish it had been.

I was dressed and ready to go. I was waiting for sweetheart to gather up the three kids to come and pick me up. I called him at nine...then nine-thirty. Looking back I know why he was late, because MY sweet, sweet Dr. Lloyd had come to see ME. He apologized for not having been there the day before, then told me about how his son, who is suffering from brain cancer was doing. He had spent the day up at the hospital with him. Commence bawling and tears from us both, as I told him he was where he needed to be. I can't imagine his pain, knowing that you could possibly lose your child after 30+ years of loving them. Wow. He also shared with me the loss of their first child at 26 weeks. The many tears that are shed, the wondering. He reminded me that it was okay to cry, that I NEEDED to cry. He said, "That is what makes you a good mother...your tears. It shows you love." Bawling. I needed to see him. He was with us when sweet Jothan was born. I remember that morning so clearly, Dr. L's own daughter was the L&D nurse, and I remember just feeling the spirit in that room. He was with us when little Emmaree took her first breath and I held that sweet little girl for the first time. He didn't need to be there when we lost little Peanut. Just him taking his time to see me was enough.

We got home at about 11:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning. A good friend from my old ward called me at around 4:00 p.m. She works in Dr. Lloyd's office. She mentioned how she wasn't working the day before, but as she was getting ready to leave the office today, one of her jobs is to put away all the charts that were used throughout the day. Every chart that is expecting a baby has a "blue sticker" she saw my name and wondered, "Where is Kim's blue sticker? It must have fallen off!" So, she proceeded to go get a new blue sticker to put on the chart. (How sweet is that?) When she opened the chart to find the billing for "One D&C and 40 minute hemmorhage". She just cried then...ran to talk to Dr. Lloyd. They talked for while, his little heart aching for us. It felt so good to hear how highly he thought of me. Because I was feeling like a trash heap by that time on Tuesday. I am so thankful that she called and talked to me for an HOUR.

This week has been hard. The only thing that comes close, as I said before, was our failed placement. The pain is very similar and very different. This time there is a lot of physical pain. Today has been the worst since Monday. But I am healing.

I haven't had much time for myself. LJ requires a lot of our time, he has a lot of appointments. I have had many talks with our family social worker with the state...and after yesterday I am not sure I can handle this. I made a promise to give things one more week. Today was a hard day. And after yesterday I am not sure I can see his mom go through her pregnancy. I don't think I am strong enough. I feel no malice toward her. It was not my intent to have anyone feel that toward her either. My heart aches for her...but I am not sure I can be the one to help her through this. I am trying with all of my heart to make this work...to deal with my own broken heart and help LJ with his. We are all having a really hard time. I just don't know when something is going to give. I wish I could share more about his case. All I can say, he will definitely be going back to his mom, and if not her, his grandparents.

I hope that by sharing some of these things that I help someone who has gone through this same experience. I am feeling a lot of darker emotions that I am afraid to tell anyone, I may have shared with only a few, but there is a lot about losing this baby that has my head spinning. I can't believe that this baby is gone. I made it so far. I am afraid that this was my last chance at bringing a baby into this world. It is too soon to even contemplate such things. I just need to let myself heal. My arms feel so empty. I hate these feelings.