Life Goes On!

Dooce is pregnant again!!!

I don't know what it is about Dooce that inspires me to write...I've followed her religiously ever since I read her blog at the suggestion of a friend two years ago.  You could probably even say that I've stalked her for two years.  Maybe it's because she loves Radiohead and Britney Spears, or maybe one of her posts reads, "Meet Me in LA, and Bring Weed".  I don't know!  But there is something about her that rings true in my ears.  Maybe its because she takes amazing pictures, and she doesn't even try.  Maybe because she got married in Yosemite to the man of her dreams..maybe because she loves Michael Phelps and Tom York.  Maybe its because she's had two previous miscarriages, one before Leta, and one after Leta...maybe its because she gave me the term, "suck it for free"- to be used when you're really pissed off at someone for cutting you off and making you want to shoot him...like, "that guy can suck it for free!".  Maybe its because I'm seeing TWO therapists...count em...not ONE, but TWO, and she knows what being crazy feels like.  

I don't know what crazy feels like.  Or do I?  Coming off of hormone therapy (and being on it for two months) has left me searching.  Searching for the real, searching for the true.  Seeking and searching..seeking and searching.  It's crazy because I'm scared of what I might find...but I'm scared of not looking for it.    I MUST sound crazy right now to all of you.  And if I am, you can take this as documentation for later- you know, put it in your back pocket and pull it out when the time is right and say, "SEE?  You really were crazy!".  

But life goes on you know?  Dooce is pregnant again, and miracles do happen.  Ella Sophia is here with us now, and I just can't wait to meet her.  Life just goes on and on and on, and I've got to be a part of it.  I've got to pull up the panties, and do my best.  I just have to shine on.  That's all that I can ask of me.  

That Ugly Word

Why do women (and families) have to suffer that ugly word called miscarriage?? WHY? How is it fair? How come some women have many, and some women have none? Why have I gotten this far, jacked up on hormones recovering from surgery- so that I never have to experience a miscarriage again? I don't know..this post is going to make absolutely no sense because I'm angry and sad for her. I'm feeling everything that she's feeling. Everything. Her broken voice is still ringing in my ears and I can't stop crying for her. I can't stop crying for any woman who has had a miscarriage. And there are so so many. More than you know.

You're My Best Friend

"When everything is wrong I'll come talk to you
You make things alright when I'm feeling blue

You are such a blessing and I wont be messing
With the one thing that brings light to all of my darkness

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

There is no other one who can take your place
I feel happy inside when I see your face
I hope you believe me
Cause I speak sincerely
and I mean it when I tell you that I need you

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

I'm here right beside you
I will never leave you
and I feel the pain you feel when you start crying

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do

You're my best friend
and I love you, and I love you
Yes I do
Yes I do...
Yes I do"

I need you to sing this with me!  We'll just close our eyes, and picture all of us together, and rock out.  I'm having surgery tomorrow.  Remember that whole heart shaped uterus thing?  Well, I'm getting rid of it.  No no, not the uterus, just the piece of the heart that is hanging down making my womb an inhospitable place for making babies.  And I'm nervous as all hell.  

The month of August has been crazy.  My day job has been crazy busy with various submissions that needed to go into federal agencies.  Throw in a week trip to Hawaii for a wedding, and then a weekend trip to NYC for M's conference shoot, and now surgery- well, it all has left me beside myself.   Beside myself in a good way, of course.  If I've ever really rocked out, its been this year. And its not even over yet.  It's just August.  I've built Jonas and Luna with the buddy of all buddies, I've gone to Italy and France, and felt love love love everywhere, Ryder got a big boy bed and we got rid of his nightly and morning bottles (FINALLY), Ryder went to NYC,  we saw a beautiful moon and rainbow in Hawaii, I suffocated and squeezed the shit out of my godson, and got harassed by Kevin.  All in all, a good year.  Its funny how a bit of your life flashes before your eyes when you know you're going to be put into a deep, paralyzing, immobile sleep for an hour.  I'm scared.  I need you to sing this song with me.  Will I wake up?  Will I see Ryder's and Scott's sweet faces again?  Will I see yours?  I know I'm being dramatic.  I'm a Leo.  Will we be able to have another baby?  Or will we adopt from Tibet?  

The take home message from this incoherent blog post is this:  Just LIVE.  Just LOVE.  Throw yourself into life and don't stop.  And don't forget to love along the way.   Sing this song with me.  It will make me happy.

A Heart Shaped Uterus, Just in Time for Valentine's Day

This is what I was finally diagnosed with yesterday.

This is the Fiesty, Lucky, Little Loverboy.

We are so freaking lucky to have you here with us, Ryder.

You just wouldn't believe the feelings that I feel for you when I think about you.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Miscarriage SUCKS Balls.

Dooce has suffered a miscarriage.

When I read her blog entry, it took everything I had in me not to cry, for the pain of losing a baby came rushing back. The blood from my head gushed to my feet, and I felt helpless and useless all over again. The yin and yang thing about it was that I actually had a dream last night that I was pregnant, and whether it was Ryder, or a new baby- I remember feeling the baby kick in my dream. It felt like it was real. And then I woke up- and I was in awe that it really happened to begin with- that Ryder was once inside of me.

Here's to all my girls, and my girlfriend's girls- who have felt the horrible sorrow of losing a beating heart. Keep trying, keep persevering- because, after all, Ryder is only here with us because we had the courage to try again.

Shine on, Dooce.

A Visit to My New Perinatologist

My freakishly tall husband and I just got back from seeing a perinatologist for the first time. You'd think we had gone before because of:

1. One miscarriage prior to Ryder
2. Advanced Maternal Age (I'll be 35 in August- holy shit.)

Now, with a second miscarriage under our belts, we've succumbed to the possibility that carrying a fourth baby to term just might not be as easy as we thought. Babies really are miracles, and I thank my lucky stars every day that I at least have one. I mean, just:

1. Getting pregnant
2. Carrying the baby to term
3. Surviving childbirth

is an extraordinary science that shouldn't be taken for granted.

We were enlightened while we were there, and he knows his shit. After giving him my pregnancy history, he gave us the run down of reasons why I might be having difficulty carrying a baby to term:

1. Possible cervical incompetence
2. History of pre-term labor
3. Infection
4. Fibroids
5. Mis-shapen uterus

Now, numbers 1 and 2 can be completely unrelated. I've told him that before giving birth to Ryder, my lower back had hurt so severely that my freakishly tall husband had to literally beat it with a hammer to iron out the knots. The same thing happened right before I miscarried a second time. My lower back hurt so much that I went to a chiropractor so he could contort me into odd shapes to iron out the knots- sans hammer. This raised an eyebrow on the perinatologist (whose nickname I'm still trying to come up with), and he said that- it could be just pre-term labor- in which case- a cerclage isn't going to help whatsoever (which would help if I have number 1 above).

To really mix it up then, he added that numbers 4 and 5 could cause numbers 1, 2, and 3. Or, 3 could cause 2, or 2 could cause 1. Or, 1 could cause 2. Or, 1 could cause 3. And I'm totally not lying here when he said ALL of those scenarios. Point is, we don't know. The plan is:

1. Get worked up for Incompetent Cervix
2. Get worked up for any underlying infection that I just might be living with happily
3. Get my uterus mapped out so we know EXACTLY what it looks like- fibroids and all

That all will start next month. All of this said, I'm really happy that we're taking the steps to a healthier fourth pregnancy. And I have every ounce of my faith aimed towards a second child. A playmate for Ryder. Then, he dropped one more tidbit of information:

1. Wait a full year before attempting another pregnancy.

Looks like I'll be having my second with all of the other gals who may be going on their seconds, and thirds. Sounds like fun to me!!!!! That also means that I could possibly conceive in Lake Como next year.

Now that sounds like a PARTY!

Stress

So, I've gotten myself a beautiful, large, nasty-ass- looking cold sore on my lip. Ahhhh the wonders of stress. Typically I get them because I didn't put enough sun block on (SPF 50) my lips when I lay out in the sun, and I've been very proud of myself because I thought that- once and for all- I've BEATEN them. But....no. There's one other thing that causes a cold sore to rear its ugly head...and that's stress.

Hmmmmmm...what in the world could I be stressed about???

7. Well, my miscarriage. Exactly 4 weeks ago today, I lost a little 5 month old being. But, did I have time to greive? Well, no- not exactly.

6. A week after my miscarriage, my dad goes into the early stages of heart failure because he's got aortic valve regurgitation. Basically his valve in his aorta is causing alot of backwash into his lungs, causing his left ventricle to work even that much harder- you know, the basic stuff.

5. My mom suddenly decides she doesn't know how to speak English, and I've been deemed "the spokesperson" for my dad and her. She won't even ask the nurse upon discharge if dad can drive. She asks me in Chinese, to ask the nurse. She knows she knows how to say, "can he drive?" in english. Speaking of drive, I've been driving them everywhere, because- my mom suddenly forgot how to drive as well.

4. The "makin-my-dad-crazy-anxious-and-so-then-I'm-anxious" pre-op schedule that we have set up for my dad: This thursday, at 4pm, meet the cardiologist. Next thursday, at 9:30 am, we go in for lab draws, and the following Monday, June 4th, dun dun da dahhhhhh- for open heart surgery. Can't work on those days (I usually work on Tuesdays and Thursdays)......and we need the money because....

3. Our refridgerator broke! We already bought a king size bed for ourselves three weeks ago. A new fridge out of the blue is not fun- whoops- we're out another $800 bucks!!!

2. A REALLY bad book (see previous post).

And the NUMBER one reason for my stress- hence- cold sore????

1. THIS.

Instructions for Freedom

1. Life's metaphors are God's instructions.

2. You have just climbed up and above the roof. There is nothing between you and the Infinite. Now, let go.

3. The day is ending. It's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that is beautiful. Now, let go.

4. Your wish for resolution was a prayer. Your being here is God's response. Let go, and watch the stars come out- on the outside, and on the inside.

5. With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go.

6. With all your heart, forgive him, FORGIVE YOURSELF, and let him go.

7. Let your intention be freedom from useless suffering. Then, let go.

8. Watch the heat of the day pass into the cool night. Let go.

9. When the karma of a relationship is done, only love remains. It's safe. Let go.

10. When the past has passed from you at last, let go. Then climb down and begin the rest of your life. With great joy.

This was taken from a great book I'm reading, Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. It doesn't apply to me, but in many ways it does. I knew this meant something to me, when I started reading these Instructions for Freedom, and just started crying.

The Boys in my LIfe

I don't know what I would have done without these fellas in the last few days. More than comfort, they are a source of laughter and inspiration to me, and I'm sooo lucky and fortunate to have them. Ryder makes me roll around on the carpet, makes me chase him into the bushes when we go outside, and sneaks up behind me to try to scare me when I'm hiding behind the couch. My husband just kisses me, hugs me, and makes me feel more safe than I've ever felt. Ever. When I'm with them, I feel like nothing will ever go wrong.

And if it does, well hell. It'll be alright.

Of course, the Percocet helps too.

Just Wanted to Tell You....

Dear Friends,

We just wanted to tell all of you that we lost our baby two nights ago. It was a boy, and he was almost 5 months old. Miscarriages are crazy, and unjust.....but unfortunately something that women suffer, many woman....too many women. We're doing OK, and enjoying Ryder like crazy. Don't hesitate to email us, or text us....its a little hard to talk without crying- so I might not answer the phone. But we're doing OK, and every day gets a teeny bit better. We just have to get through the next few days, and switch the gears up for the next few months. Just keep us in your thoughts and prayers, and we'll get through this.

Hopefully we'll see you all soon. Take care, and just enjoy the day.....every single moment of every single day.

We love you,
Tilly and Scott
Ryder too!