I havenÂ’t been writing about how IÂ’m doing because 1) most of the time IÂ’m doing fine and 2) I feel self-conscious about the hint I've gotten that I need to get over myself. But writing is my way of processing things, so today I could use that therapy.

When I was pregnant, I ordered more contact lenses. I hadnÂ’t been in to pick them up yet. So while I was on my way over there, I was rehearsing in my mind what IÂ’d say. I got a feel for the words before I got to the shop. But when I got up to the counter and the girl asked me why I wanted a refund, the words wouldnÂ’t come out. They were replaced by a lump in the back of my throat.

Just say it. You can do it. Just say, “I ordered these while I was pregnant, but since I lost the pregnancy, my consolation prize is gonna be lasik surgery. Ha ha ha.” Just say it. Ha ha ha.

I think the girl sensed that something was wrong, because she said, “I’ll just check the box for ‘bought too many boxes.’” Yep, one box, that’s too many. Then I felt awkward for making the situation awkward and thought I’d better explain before she thinks I’m a freak. But still the words wouldn’t come.

Most of the time IÂ’m fine, until I have to say the words out loud.

I went to a support group meeting on post the other night, a child loss group. I havenÂ’t been sleeping well since my mom left, and if it worked for Tyler Durden, I thought maybe it might work for me. The ladies in the group were really nice and made me feel entirely welcomed, but I think in some ways it made me feel worse. These are ladies who birthed severely premature babies, but babies nonetheless. They had faces and names and lived for a week on machines. They had funerals and were buried in gowns that people I knit with had made and donated. I just felt stupid mourning the little gummy bear that I lost.

I am JoeÂ’s heaping tablespoon of Perspective.

So most of the time, IÂ’m fine. But every once in a while I get not fine, like when I do something that I wouldnÂ’t be doing if I were pregnant, like mowing the yardÂ…or drinking wine. And I try to resist those feelings inside of me. I try to suppress my inner Dante Hicks, try not to feel like IÂ’m not even supposed to be here, try not to live in this alternate reality where IÂ’m pregnant and happy and shouldnÂ’t be mowing. But itÂ’s hard, because thatÂ’s the parallel universe I want to be living in.

I donÂ’t want to be getting lasik, even though IÂ’ve waited two years to do it.

Maybe I'll just start a fight club.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:01 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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1 First, never ever apologize for your feelings or writing about them. Forget the nasties that troll around telling you how you should handle your feelings and your blog. Second, a loss is a loss even though they were at different stages. Yours is no less significant. Everything is relative to the lives we live and our circumstances. There are no rules that say you can't do 'x' unless 'y' happens. Hang in there...there will come a point that it will be better. Take the steps you need to get there and don't let it get you down if it comes with a step or two back. Sending prayers and good wishes your way.

Posted by: Susan at June 27, 2008 07:11 AM (4aKG6)

2 First rule of Fight ClubÂ… Listen to Susan, sheÂ’s got a lot of wisdom.

Posted by: tim at June 27, 2008 07:22 AM (nno0f)

3 Never apologize for how you feel. Ever. It's just how it is. Losses are hard to process, sometimes you have good and bad days. Never measure yours against another's. Each pain in unique, just like the individuals we lost and who we're mourning for.

Posted by: Mare at June 27, 2008 09:08 AM (APbbU)

4 Sarah, what is with the comments on the orig post you linked to? Whack. I wouldn't worry too much over people who tell you to get over yourself. Especially on your personal blog. Seems a bit forward to tell a person that. And nonsensical. While it brings a smile, calling your baby a gummy bear does nothing to make your loss any less worthy of mourning. I really like the way Susan worded it about taking the steps to get to a better place, but allowing yourself the occasional steps back without being too hard on yourself. Definitely a great thing to strive for. Good thoughts and loved the laugh over at spousebuzz. I remember thinking to myself how unwelcoming we are to our guests comparatively. Glad I wasn't the only one.

Posted by: wifeunit at June 27, 2008 10:42 AM (J+xCo)

5 I feel you with the crying thing. I lost a baby at 4 weeks just over a month ago. Hardly even a pregnancy really. If I had waited one more day to take the test I wouldn't even have been really sure that I was pregnant. I cried, then thought I got over it. Went to the doctor for a totally unrelated matter. Walked in thinking about how I should tell him about it while I was there, totally fine, not upset at all. I went to tell him about it and burst into tears. I didn't even see them coming! So, hang in there. And as for the apologies for writing about your feelings...you have been helping me. So don't let those negative comments stop you from writing what YOU want on YOUR blog. If they don't like it they don't have to come here. Stephanie

Posted by: stephanie at June 27, 2008 11:56 AM (UOBc4)

6 Sarah, what you have to get over is feeling that ANYONE else has the right to tell you how to feel. (So here I am telling you how to feel) If writing your thoughts on your blog helps, do it! None of us are obligated to read this. Most of us do it because he have come to like and respect you and we wish you the best. Your little gummy bear had all your hopes and aspirations any mother gives her baby. And I for one thank God he didn't have to go through any intensive care before he died. Sounds cruel I know, but that is another thing I have never had to face and am glad for it and I'm glad you didn't have to face it either. BUT, that doesn't make your loss any less hard to take or any less wrenching for you. Write all you want, we can handle it.

Posted by: Ruth H at June 27, 2008 11:56 AM (4eLhB)

7 Something I was told when I was going through grief was this: Grief is ALWAYS 100%. You don't ever 75% grieve for someone. I will also say if that group makes you feel worse, find another one. Might there be one for people who have been through miscarriages? Do you know anyone you could ask?

Posted by: Val at June 27, 2008 01:11 PM (6RyTP)

8 Do not get over it... a gummy bear it was not. It was a baby. In your heart, and mind he or she was the FUTURE. Your future with this baby....that is worth mourning over.

Posted by: awtm at June 27, 2008 06:53 PM (Vd+VZ)

9 I agree: It doesn't matter when someone loses a baby--the result is the same. It doesn't matter if your baby was hooked up to machines or only visible on a sonogram. It was the potential, the future, of this new life that you were robbed of. You have every right to mourn or be sad about that being taken from you. Don't let anybody make you feel bad about that, including yourself.

Posted by: Ann M. at June 28, 2008 05:34 AM (HFUBt)

10 Ditto to all of the good and kind words posted here. Your blog,write about what's on our mind, that's the Sarah we love.

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 28, 2008 09:59 AM (Sc9ll)

11 Sarah- It's ok to be not fine. I think that sometimes we tell ourselves that we have to hold it all together... for your readers, for the store clerk, for yourself even... but in reality, why? I am person who is always trying to keep it together... and if I think about it, I don't really know why. Perhaps I am afraid of the repercussions of not doing so... which in my case, would mean that maybe others would think I was nuts, or pity me. I owe it to myself to just let go sometimes, and so do you : ) Also, even though my situation is totally different... I get you with the parallel universe... It is very difficult to live with one reality when you want so badly to have another.

Posted by: Hope at June 28, 2008 10:32 AM (SgiEp)

12 I agree w/everyone else 100%. You feel however you need to & write about it with wild abandon. If someone doesn't like it, send 'em my way--I have a lot of pent up aggression right now that I'd like to work out. Let me take this comment down the second path of your post by telling you -- giving this gift to yourself will change your life. Don't underestimate the joy found in seeing an alarm clock in the morning without your contacts or glasses. I know pales in comparison to your heart's true desire, but I also know you deserve to do something this special for yourself. I had my eyes lasered while Hubs was deployed and it was an amazingly good decision. This will be good for you too.

Posted by: Guard Wife at June 28, 2008 12:16 PM (ccp31)

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I've been quoting John Prine a lot these days, haven't I?

You can gaze out the window get mad and get madder,
throw your hands in the air, say "What does it matter?"
but it don't do no good to get angry,
so help me I know

For a heart stained in anger grows weak and grows bitter.
You become your own prisoner as you watch yourself sit there
wrapped up in a trap of your very own
chain of sorrow.

Last miscarriage, I was angry. This time I just feel numb. And defeated. Reality is starting to sink in, and I'm sad. My husband said it best: Now we're just that much further from meeting our son or daughter, the child whose name we picked out during the Clinton administration and who won't be born until well into the next administration. So much time, wasted.

I feel like the last year and a half has been an hourglass, and I keep watching the sand slip through but there's nothing I can do to stop it.

I am Joe's ticking biological clock.

Last week when I dropped my mother off at the airport, I felt sad that she might not get to spend enough time with her grandchild. This week, I choked up because there is no grandchild anymore. What a difference a week makes.

Another week I can't put back into the hourglass.

And you carry those bruises
to remind you wherever you go.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:55 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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I saw an ad the other day: 50% all buttons. So I went, of course, my first trip out of the house in days. I was standing there with about ten cards of buttons in my hands when a mother and probably 3-year-old daughter walked up. The mother told her daughter that she could pick out one card of buttons. The little girl ooohed and aaahed, asked "Ich unn you like, Mommy?" and got super-excited about picking out her buttons. I watched with a big smile, and finally said to the mother, "You know, someday she's going to be like me, doing the same thing when she's 30."

And I thought, maybe having a little girl wouldn't be so bad. Maybe she'd love buttons too.

I'm doing OK. I have one hang-up though: I don't want to stop wearing maternity clothes. I picked out so many nice things, and comfortable things. I want to wear them. I want to grow into them. But I won't. And I don't want to take them off. Like my heart panics when I think about going back to wearing regular clothes.

I'm starting a trend: non-pregnant crazy ladies who wear maternity shirts.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:03 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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I wanted to give a shout-out to my poor in-laws too. Last December, my Christmas present was supposed to be maternity clothes and baby stuff. My poor mother-in-law had to go out at the last minute and re-shop for me after the miscarriage. And this week, she sent a big box to me for our wedding anniversary...of maternity clothes and baby stuff. She put it in the mail before we got the bad news, so she felt terrible that that's what she had sent.

At least she didn't send a dead bird!

I taught my mother-in-law to knit about the same time we started trying to have a baby, so she has been making little baby things all along. She started a blanket for Baby #1 and then stopped abruptly and put it away. When Baby #2 had a heartbeat, she pulled it back out and finished it. And mailed it to me this week. I know she probably thinks it's a burden to me, but it really is quite lovely and I'm happy to have it.

And we'll put a baby in it someday, I promise.

Posted by: Sarah at 12:59 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I look all squinty and goofy in this picture, but my dad looks great.

My dad is not the most emotional guy, but he's been very sweet these past few days. My mom has kept him updated on what's going on, and he's been loving and nice. When I talked to him today, I ended the conversation by saying, "OK, well have a good day!" and he made sure to interject with an "I love you" before I hung up the phone. That's not my dad's normal instinct, so it was very sweet. I know he loves me; he just doesn't say it all the time. But it was nice to hear today.

Happy Father's Day, Dad. Sorry I kept Mom away from home today.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:53 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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1 What a great photo. Your dad & my dad would get along, it sounds like.

Posted by: Guard Wife at June 16, 2008 08:13 AM (ccp31)

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When I woke up, I had in mind all these reasons that today would suck. But today is half over, and it's not turning out half bad. I don't feel that sucky. I feel at peace.

The miscarriage is over. I took the medicine yesterday morning after I wrote that blog post, and I miscarried the baby in the early afternoon. Stacy, who's been through this before, warned me that I might not want to look. But as soon as he came out (yes, I took to calling him a "he," even though it was far too early to tell), I knew that wasn't the right choice for me. I held my little baby in my hand and was able to look at him and love him. I marveled over the little buds where his arms would grow and the tiny umbilical cord, as thin as thread. And I didn't want to let him go. But I had to say goodbye, and so I did.

It was the closure I needed; it was the closure I didn't get with the D&C. It was a little funeral, a ritual, a passage I needed to go through. I am very glad I had to do it this way.

And so he's gone. And I'm OK.

What I mourn right now is my future. My deployment was going to be filled with baby milestones and a growing belly to mark time. Now it seems empty. There will be no joy to fill the next seven months, no baby to keep me company, and no new definition of family to look forward to when my husband returns.

It's just me, in the house, alone. And that's part of the reason that, even though the baby was dead, I didn't want to let him go. I didn't want to be left alone.

I didn't want to give up my future. Because now the future is uncertain again.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:42 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Overall, today was not as painful as I thought it would be. I am sure the percocet makes the difference though. The pain is manageable.

When my mother went to extend her plane ticket, the only choice was a week later. I didn't really think I wanted or needed her here another full week. I thought I could do this on my own. I don't like when people see me in pain, or see me cry, or see me struggle. But my mother insisted that she was staying a week.

I am really glad she did.

She was a big help today, especially when the going got tough. And it got pretty tough a couple of times. But she was here, and she was right on the same wavelength as I was. It was nice.

I am glad I didn't go this alone.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:57 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 I'm so sorry. I just thought I'd check in and then I read the news. I'm crying over here. I remember what my miscarriage felt like but to experience two in a row? Pure agony. I'm so sad for how you feel right now. I didn't realize you couldn't have two D&C's in a row either. Happy that your mom is there. Thinking of and praying for you and husband.

Posted by: Tonya at June 14, 2008 04:33 PM (g+gHl)

2 I'm so glad your mom is there and is a comfort to you. One of the biggest lessons I've learned over the past few years is how to accept help. Thinking of you and your hubby.

Posted by: Sis B at June 14, 2008 05:28 PM (0ZS+T)

3 Please remember you are never alone. You are one of the bravest women I have the privilege of knowing. I think about you and Russ on a constant basis. You are in my heart and in my prayers. I wish I could run next door and give you a hug. I hope to see you soon. j

Posted by: jennifer at June 14, 2008 05:54 PM (5Srz/)

4 I am extremely grateful that your Mom is there.

Posted by: Allison at June 14, 2008 06:24 PM (T/z1O)

5 I'm so glad your mom is able to be there for you. I'm sure it makes things a little easier. Thinking of you here.

Posted by: Tania at June 14, 2008 07:52 PM (61DKW)

6 I'm so glad your mother is there with you. I would be so worried if you were alone. Yes, you're strong. But no need to test your limits any further. You have been constantly on my mind. *hugs*

Posted by: FbL at June 14, 2008 10:02 PM (HwqvF)

7 I just stopped by to check in and read of your loss. I am so sorry. You and your DH will be in my prayers for a long time. Thank goodness your mom was able to stay with you. My heart aches for you all.

Posted by: Mary at June 14, 2008 10:35 PM (3k4VW)

8 Team Sarah's Mom!

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 16, 2008 09:56 AM (Sc9ll)

9 I am so sorry for your loss. Thank goodness your Mom was there to be with you.

Posted by: Barb at June 17, 2008 11:04 AM (iaV9O)

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Let's celebrate life.

These are growing in my backyard.

We can have a miniature dinner.

Posted by: Sarah at 11:08 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I wrote over at SpouseBUZZ about the headache of trying to reach my doctor yesterday. One thing I forgot to mention was that, when the doctor was advising me on whether to have another D&C or to use the medicine, he said something to the effect of, "One thing is that surgeries are expensive, not to you but to the taxpayer, if that's of any concern to you." Now there's a man after my own heart!

As I sit here in agony today, I will keep reminding myself that I am saving the taxpayers money. I know that probably sounds like sarcasm, but I mean it in all seriousness. Every little bit helps.

And to call this "medicine" seems odd to me. It's more like poison. You put it in your body, and your body says, "Oh no no no, we need to get this out." It twists and contorts and ravages you.

Abortions are D&Cs and not this medicine, right? I wager we'd see less abortions if people were forced to go through this.

And I've only just begun.

Posted by: Sarah at 07:53 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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When I was in college, I had a pet goldfish that I loved. And the inevitable happened, as it always does. One day he started doing that dance with death: float to the top, sink to the bottom, turrrrn slowly onto his back, right himself forcefully, over and over. I couldn't watch it anymore, and I knew I needed to put him out of his misery. I took him out of the water and held him in my hands as he lived his last few minutes. And it took all my willpower, everything I had, not to put him right back in the water.

This is the stupidest analogy in the world, but it's all I can think of this morning. That poor fish, struggling in my hands as I sobbed. And the awful, frightening feeling I had knowing that I wielded so much power. And that I also had the power not to do it. I could put him back in the water and wait for nature to take its course, or lightning to strike him, or anything that would take the decision out of my hands.

My baby is already dead, but this morning I have to take a pill that will make the baby come out of me. I have to do it. My power. The D&C was passive -- the doctors did all the work -- but this time, I have to make a conscious choice to begin the process. And I'm immobilized.

I don't want to do this.

I want to throw the fish back in the water, save the decision for another day.

But I can't.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:33 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Well, shit.
This baby died too.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:10 AM | Comments (41) | Add Comment
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1 I'm truly sorry to hear that Sarah.

Posted by: tim at June 12, 2008 10:21 AM (nno0f)

2 Oh, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear this. My heart aches for you. I cannot imagine how you are feeling. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your husband.

Posted by: Sandi at June 12, 2008 10:35 AM (PzeGZ)

3 I was checking back hoping for happier news. I am so sorry to hear this. Wishing you strength as you deal with this and hope for your dreams of holding your child to come true without more loss.

Posted by: wifeunit at June 12, 2008 10:37 AM (J+xCo)

4 I'm so sorry. No words for it really- just achingly sorry.

Posted by: Crys at June 12, 2008 10:40 AM (dqGUK)

5 Oh, no. I'm so sorry, Sarah.

Posted by: JT at June 12, 2008 11:27 AM (SLnGk)

6 You are in my thoughts and prayers, Sarah. I'm so sorry to hear this.

Posted by: Vypergirl at June 12, 2008 11:33 AM (qe77L)

7 I am so sorry to hear this - you are in my thoughts and prayers.

Posted by: Toni at June 12, 2008 11:49 AM (OoGre)

8 Fuck. Is there anyone who can make the drive to the airport with you? Insert more profanities here.

Posted by: Sis B at June 12, 2008 11:53 AM (0ZS+T)

9 Don't worry, Sis B, my mom cancelled her ticket for tonight and is staying a few more days with me.

Posted by: Sarah at June 12, 2008 11:58 AM (TWet1)

10 Oh, no! I'm glad your mom decided to stay with you a few more days. I'm so sorry; I wish there were more I could say. *big hugs*

Posted by: Emily at June 12, 2008 12:08 PM (jAos7)

11 I'm so very sorry, Sarah.

Posted by: Anwyn at June 12, 2008 12:51 PM (dzxw9)

12 I am so sorry. Its heartbreaking.

Posted by: kati at June 12, 2008 01:15 PM (mrnzz)

13 I am so sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Reasa at June 12, 2008 01:17 PM (2W7Iu)

14 I'm so glad your mom is with you. And I am heartbroken for you. Will it do any good for me to tell you my sister in law lost three before one live birth? No, it won't. But I'm telling you, as long as you can get pregnant there is hope you will have a baby one day. My prayers and hopes are with you and your hubby, and thankful your mom is there.

Posted by: Ruth H at June 12, 2008 01:19 PM (BkiKe)

15 I am so sorry to hear the news. Glad to hear your mom is staying with you for a few days longer.

Posted by: Cindy at June 12, 2008 01:22 PM (aqF7w)

16 I am so sorry for your loss.

Posted by: Maria at June 12, 2008 01:30 PM (2rnKP)

17 I am so so sorry.

Posted by: MaryIndiana at June 12, 2008 01:43 PM (Sc9ll)

18 It's just not fair. I'm so sorry.

Posted by: Val at June 12, 2008 01:43 PM (6RyTP)

19 it sucks, it's not fair, you will make it through. did not make sense for me until it actually happened. thoughts are with you, sarah.

Posted by: kristie at June 12, 2008 02:21 PM (I4yBD)

20 I am so sorry for you and your husband. Thankfully, your mom is there with you and can bring you some comfort. I am so, so sorry.

Posted by: Susan at June 12, 2008 03:11 PM (edTDc)

21 I am very sorry and very sad. I am relieved to hear that your mother was able to stay a little longer to be with you during this time.

Posted by: CaliValleyGirl at June 12, 2008 03:36 PM (irIko)

22 Oh no...how rotten...

Posted by: Kiki at June 12, 2008 04:24 PM (OnpeF)

23 I am sorry too.

Posted by: dutchgirl at June 12, 2008 04:38 PM (vUJtL)

24 So sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Nicole at June 12, 2008 04:41 PM (sBJ2p)

25 I'm so sorry and my heart breaks for you.

Posted by: Susan at June 12, 2008 04:57 PM (bwlsC)

26 I'm so very very sorry. I was so hoping this would not happen.

Posted by: sharona at June 12, 2008 05:18 PM (BeRta)

27 So sorry. I've been there, too, during a deployment. Bless your mom for staying.

Posted by: Amanda at June 12, 2008 07:11 PM (IwSIO)

28 Sarah, when I read your news, I cried. I cried for you and for your babies. I cried for the fact that you will never get to hold those two babies. I cried because my heart remembered the horrible, ripping pain that came when reality set in and I realized that my babies were gone. I cried because you will now have yet another two days that come and go and are difficult in your life. I cried because I understand. When the anniversary of my first miscarriage came this April, I was heartbroken. The anniversary of the second is just this week, and it scares me. Even though I am pregnant and slowly, cautiously dealing with this one, I grieve over the two that I lost. I hate it when people say that there will be more babies...what about the two that you lost? I hate it when people tell you how they know so and so who had this many miscarriages and had a baby later, because that doesn't help you RIGHT NOW. You do not have a baby in your arms, you do not have any guarantee that it will ever happen for you. No, it doesn't make you feel better to hear all of those things from those "well-meaning" people. Please know that I am NOT one of those people. I am one of the people that understands where you are coming from. I have been there, and I know how it hurts, and how little things don't mean anything. I remember after my first loss, and I called a friend to tell her and all she did was cry on the phone with me, completely sobbed, for about ten minutes. Out of all of the words that I received, out of all of the so-called "advice" that was given to me, that phone call is the one that I remember, it is the one that stands out in my mind. She just cried with me. She felt my pain with me. I've never met you, but I'm crying with you. I'm feeling your pain with you. My heart is actually breaking with you.

Posted by: Stacy at June 12, 2008 07:46 PM (sH2lU)

29 I'm sorry. (The first words that come to mind were a bit more profane) Words of encouragement: My in-laws were married at 19 and 18. She gave birth to my wife at 29 and they were "trying" for all but 2 years (1 in Vietnam and 1 where they were taking precautions). After that he got snipped so my wife is an only child. Please don't give up hope. (Or force your husband to get snipped after only 1. )

Posted by: Brian at June 12, 2008 08:28 PM (TWI8c)

30 I am so very sorry to hear this. My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your family.

Posted by: Lee Anne at June 13, 2008 03:31 AM (SHkIe)

31 I'm so sorry. Prayers for peace and healing going up for you.

Posted by: MargeinMI at June 13, 2008 04:03 AM (1MXzx)

32 I'm so sorry. I'm glad you're mother is there. I'll be praying for you.

Posted by: Tibby at June 13, 2008 04:31 AM (S/Fac)

33 No words. I'm so very, very sorry Sarah.

Posted by: Stephanie at June 13, 2008 06:12 AM (kzbE/)

34 *Sigh* No words can possibly express how sorry I am for you.

Posted by: David M at June 13, 2008 06:13 AM (gIAM9)

35 Sarah - I am sorry. I wish there was something to say or do to take away your pain, but if its any comfort, I am thinking of you, your baby & your husband. keri

Posted by: Keri at June 13, 2008 06:15 AM (HXpRG)

36 Oh, Sarah. My heart aches for you.

Posted by: FbL at June 13, 2008 06:28 AM (HwqvF)

37 I had the same thing happen. And I haven't won the lottery, either! You know that I am thinking about you and crying for you, too. I'm so sorry.

Posted by: Allison at June 13, 2008 08:05 AM (OH0du)

38 Sarah, I am so terribly sorry for your loss. My sympathies to you and your husband. I think you are smart enough to already know what I am about to tell you....but I'll say it anyway. Take time to grieve this. A lot of very well-meaning people who love you will step up and try to distract you. I know that because if I were with you right now I would grab you and take you to lunch and out for manicures and pedicures and tell you ridiculous Princess Crabby stories until your sides hurt - trust me, I do enough asshatted things to fill a book. That's because when we see your pain we want to help. And that's good and your friends and family are wonderful. They are right that it's not good to wallow. But on the other hand, it's not good to ignore it. It hurts and like any other pain, it's not wise to ignore it. It will never be gone. Time will dull it. But it will never be gone. I lost my first pregnancy in February of 1980. My sons are wonderful, but they are not replacements. Their names are not his name. You can do this. Anyone who reads your blog knows what a strong intelligent woman you are. They also know that you are not alone. You have a wonderful husband and family and all of us - your imaginary friends out here in the blogosphere. We are here with you too. We are grieving with you, just as we will rejoice when the good times come. Love, Maggie

Posted by: Maggie at June 13, 2008 08:47 AM (OKqpv)

39 You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

Posted by: Vonn at June 13, 2008 06:33 PM (gNLi0)

40 I'm saddened for your loss. I'm not sure what else I can say that will make your pain recede.

Posted by: Patrick Chester at June 13, 2008 08:37 PM (MOvul)

41 damn. I'm so sorry. nothing any of us will say is going to help, but know that we are here and send you love and hope. LAW

Posted by: LAW at June 14, 2008 02:05 AM (A7iUf)

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Last night I dreamt I was learning to nurse. I sat on the sofa next to my husband, with a baby boy in my arms, and we watched David Spade's Showbiz Show on TV. Now that's the life! (Also, I told you my dreams were boring.)

My mom and I decided we weren't going to do anything this morning, just stay in our jammies until she has to go back to the airport. But nature had other plans for me. I have a little bit of bleeding this morning, and what with being sick and all, I thought it best to get checked out. So we're headed to the hospital again.

The nurse asked me all sorts of questions on the phone, including whether I'd had intercourse in the last 24 hours. "Not even in the last 24 days!" I joked.

Off to get checked out. I'm not too nervous, but then again, I wasn't nervous the last time I sat for three hours in the emergency room, and that one didn't turn out so great.

We'll see. I'll update you later, hopefully before I drive the 164 miles again this evening.

Posted by: Sarah at 04:14 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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As my mother and I drove to the airport tonight, we made a joke about an annoying thing my grandma used to do. My mom chuckled and then said, "You know, I wish I hadn't let little things like that bug me so much. I don't know, maybe that doesn't make sense." But it does make sense to me. My mom and I haven't always had the easiest time getting along. We have different personalities and lifestyles, and I have my dad's impatience. But in recent years we've learned to do OK together and get along on our trips.

I said goodbye to her at the security gate and then started to walk away. And by the time I got to the car, I was crying. My mom is getting older, and I get nervous sometimes that when we say goodbye, it could be the last time. Her health isn't the best, and our trips are infrequent.

My neighbor in Germany, her mother died while she was pregnant. That bothers me. I think about it often and worry, worry that my parents are old and might not have as much time as I'd like with their grandchildren. And we live 900 miles away from them.

It weighs on me at times. And I cried when I said goodbye.

I cried when I dropped my mother off at the airport but not when I dropped my husband off for deployment. How's that for a special kind of crazy?

**************

I drove 82 miles to drop her off and composed this blog post in my mind on the 82 miles back. And as I pulled into the driveway, I got a call on my phone that her flight has been cancelled due to weather and she can't leave until tomorrow night. I'm headed back out to the car for another 160 miles. Ick.

I mean, gosh, I didn't hate to say goodbye THAT much!

UPDATE:

Recommended reading: Val's post

Posted by: Sarah at 02:52 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Yesterday my mom, my friend, and I went on an outing and we stopped at a mom-and-pop restaurant that was a bit of a dive. I jokingly referred to it as a Choke and Puke, one of my favorite Smokey and the Bandit lines. We all three got the same thing, and the food was pretty good.

Yeah, we're all paying for it today. Choke and Puke, indeed.

I thought it was morning sickness at first, that karma had come around and hit me good for writing a blog post about how great I felt. But then my mom got sick. And a call to my friend revealed that she was no better off than we were.

Food-related sickness is no fun. And really no fun when you're pregnant and can't take anything for it.

I just hope it clears up by the time we have to drive to the airport tomorrow.

Posted by: Sarah at 10:56 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I can't sleep.
Which is a bad thing, because I have to get up early tomorrow.

Um, question: How are you supposed to remember how pregnant you are? I keep forgetting. People ask me what week I'm in, and I stutter. I have to keep looking at the calendar and counting. This is a helpful site.

Apparently tomorrow I start Week 9. Somebody help me remember that.

I think I can't sleep because I have a hundred things I want to talk about with my husband. I wrote him a long email about it all, but that's not the same thing as lying in bed griping and laughing together. I miss that tonight.

Also I have no morning sickness whatsoever. Last time it was mild, but it was something: food aversion and queasiness due to smells. This time, I wouldn't know I was pregnant if I didn't have the ultrasound pic on the fridge. No symptoms at all. That would make me nervous if I hadn't been morning sick while carrying a dead baby last year. Maybe my body reacts in the opposite way. Or the logical way, depending on how you look at it: dead baby = sick, live baby = fine.

Please, brain, knock it off. It's bedtime.

My husband sent a photo of his room in Iraq the other day. He's fast asleep right now, and I love that I can picture where he's sleeping. CaliValleyGirl told a story the other day about a guy getting his chest waxed (it's funny), and all of a sudden I thought, "Awww, my husband's chest..." and I missed him. I hadn't really taken the time yet to miss his physical presence, but just like that, I wanted to lay my head on his chest.

He's my Rushmore.

Oh geez, I feel like I'm channelling Sis B.
And now I seriously need to try to sleep.

Posted by: Sarah at 06:21 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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My mother and I have been jam-packing our days. Last night we were up late, so as I was lying in bed to go to sleep, I had a thought. I looked at the clock: 12:58. One month ago exactly, I was dropping my husband off to leave for deployment.

I can't believe it's been a month.

Time probably doesn't seem to have passed so quickly for him, but with finding out I was pregnant, learning the baby might not make it, driving to western New York and back, having an ultrasound, and gardening and nesting with my mother...I've been pretty preoccupied.

My mother leaves this week, so I am sure life will slow down to a snail's pace and I will start to get lonely. But I sure went full-steam-ahead through this first month. Pretty cool.

Posted by: Sarah at 03:18 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Call me if you start to get lonely, we'll go do something

Posted by: Green at June 08, 2008 12:40 PM (6Co0L)

2 I linked to your blog in this post about time & deployments, hope you don't mind! http://kikicha.blogspot.com/2008/06/relativity-of-time.html

Posted by: Kiki at June 08, 2008 05:09 PM (OnpeF)

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My husband will probably be mighty glad when my mom leaves because we've been spending money like a pimp with a week to live. In addition to gardening stuff, we've been buying baby things and maternity clothes.

And boy howdy, did I pick the right era to get pregnant in. Maternity clearance rack: $14.95. OK, let me just walk across the aisle to the juniors section. Shirts that look exactly like maternity: $4.97. This wacky style right now is perfect for chicks who want cheap maternity shirts. They're everywhere these days.

And we walked through the dresses section; man, I wish I'd had a camera on me. What in the holy heck is going on with dresses? It looked like the costume rack from Laugh In. Funky psychedelic nightmares on empire-waisted dresses that would barely cover your butt. Seriously, Twiggy's clothes are back in style. And half the patterns looked like something Mrs. Roper would wear.

My mom joked that I've bought more clothes for myself this week than I have since I got married. And she's probably right, considering the shirt I wore out to the store was something I got in 1998.

Husband, don't look at the credit card this week. Between the emergency trip to the vet and my shopping spree...well, it's a good thing you get your deployment benefits this month.

Posted by: Sarah at 02:03 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 I was out shopping today for a dress for my mother's wedding and I had the *exact* same thoughts. It is indeed a perfect time to be pregnant, and since I am not I have no desire to LOOK like I am. I should just get myself a pair of go-go boots and call it good.

Posted by: dutchgirl at June 05, 2008 05:31 PM (NhxCQ)

2 I was noticing this trend starting last year, too. Maternity style empire waists and/or flowy-bottomed shirts are very popular right now. They make some people look pregnant who aren't, but yes; are very convenient for those lucky women who are. Now, if we can only conceive before this stuff goes out of style again...

Posted by: Emily at June 09, 2008 09:27 AM (jAos7)

3 That stuff came into style after I was so huge and round I had to wear maternity clothes! Good timimg, Sarah!

Posted by: Deltasierra at June 09, 2008 02:46 PM (7uphd)

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I haven't been blogging because I've been so busy. My mother and I have been gardening like crazy. Or, I should say she has, because I am not allowed to lift anything heavier than 20 lbs. She is a stickler about this. So my poor 61-year-old mama has been dragging around bags of mulch and soil all week.

But I did carry something today that was a little heavier than 20 lbs. Charlie Pup had to go to the doggy emergency room. We think he got bit by a spider or bee or something, because his paw was all swollen and he was limping all day. They knocked him out and gave him meds and an IV. The vet was awesome, but our poor pup is still woozy and melancholy. Luckily he just got shaved down the other day, so checking his paws was a little easier.

I had a doctor visit this morning, and I told my husband about it in an email. Then I emailed about the dog. He immediately called home and wanted to know all about the pup's health. You see where the priorities lie, right? Heh.

Husband, the pup is doing fine. Watching a dog wake up from anesthesia is hilarious too.

Posted by: Sarah at 02:57 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 Awww... poor Charlie! Ike sends his get well wishes!

Posted by: airforcewife at June 04, 2008 03:03 PM (mIbWn)

2 I remember after my kitten came home after being fixed during the first year. She stumbled out of the carrier, dragged herself over to the glass window door and leaned the top of her head against it for 20 minutes. Looked like me with a really bad hangover! Too cute.

Posted by: Oda Mae at June 04, 2008 09:11 PM (xze1f)

3 But, did he ask to speak to Charlie? Poor little guy, first he gets played with like a baby doll and then this!

Posted by: Ruth H at June 05, 2008 04:39 AM (w9ltj)

4 Poor little guy! And you? The doctor's visit was uneventful, I guess? I'm glad you have mom around to help you. Aren't moms the best?!

Posted by: T at June 05, 2008 08:16 AM (KV0YP)

5 Awww. Poor Charlie pup! I wouldn't want to watch my dog wake up from anesthesia! I've seen it plenty of other times with other dogs, but never mine. It seems so sad! What is he laying on, btw? Is that a trash bag?

Posted by: Erin at June 05, 2008 01:30 PM (y67l2)

6 Heh, it is a trash bag. We put his doggy bed in a lawn bag because earlier he had a peeing accident. Oh how he peed. They gave him a ton of fluid via IV, and it all came out at once, on my shirt, on the floor, and on two towels. We didn't want a pee-soaked doggy bed.

Posted by: Sarah at June 05, 2008 01:45 PM (TWet1)

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Dear Bunker,

I can't believe it's been three years. I still miss your voice and wisdom, miss seeing you as my first comment of the day.

I was going to come see you for a round of golf. You let me off the hook golf-wise, but I am still coming. I plan to visit you this fall when SpouseBUZZ Live comes to San Antonio. I will be there to finally meet you for the first time.

I think you'd get a big kick out of my being pregnant. I know you'd be my biggest fan.

I miss you. None of us have forgotten you.

Love,
Sarah

Posted by: Sarah at 03:42 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Dear Husband,

As you know, Charlie and I spent Memorial weekend with my father's family. In attendance were ten children under the age of ten. They were all dog owners, so they know how to behave around dogs, but they all own big dogs. So Charlie was a novelty to them; here was a dog they could pick up and carry everywhere. They dragged him all over the place, pulling him into the recliner with them and carrying him around the yard. And he took it, with no fussing whatsoever.

Not even when the girls dressed him up.

Yes, that's right: little girls put humiliating clothes and hats on your dog. And treated him like a baby doll.

This picture just screams "You gotta be kidding me."

But he took it like a man all weekend. I was so proud of him. A few times he tried to hide from the kids under the end table, but they grabbed him and dragged him back out.

And my one cousin brought her new 6-week-old baby to the house. She set his seat up in a room off the living room. Whenever the new baby would fuss, Charlie would get up and go over to him to make sure everything was OK. He'd come back to the middle of the living room like Lassie, as if to tell us, "Didn't you hear that baby? He needs help!"

I think he's going to do just fine with a new baby in our house.

Love,
Sarah

Posted by: Sarah at 05:06 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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