random thoughts

Well, it's been a week since I miscarried. I won't pretend that it's been an easy week. Sunday was the worst and it's mostly gotten better since then. I am amazed by my friends and how much they check up on me and help me out. Not only do I have lots of physical support here in MA, but I have been held up by some super great women who live 1000's of miles away too. Of course, family is always there and constant too, but it's also nice to know you're loved by people who aren't required.

Mostly, being distracted by every day life is the best way to get over anything. My girls provide plenty of distractions. Karate class, laundry, toys everywhere, moon-bounce in the living room, running errands for the first time in weeks, and potty training have taken up my week.

David is awesome. He has done so much to help me. He does dishes before going to work in the morning, shuttles the laundry up and down the stairs, makes dinner or eats leftovers when I don't feel like cooking, takes the kids, and doesn't complain. You gals should all be jealous of me.

So, the real reason I sat down to write something is that I am just so amused by Grace lately. My mom would say that she does exactly what I used to do when I was little. First of all, Grace is a pack-rat. She throws NOTHING away. Every piece of paper, every leftover kleenex box, every McDonald's toy, let alone the real stuff is a treasure. She gets rid of nothing. To throw a scrap of paper away (even if it's not hers) requires a funeral.

I'm holding a kleenex box that she refuses to let me throw away (we have several floating around the house and I have to sneak them into the recycling when she's at school - can't ever get rid of them all, or she'll notice.) This is what she has INSIDE the kleenex box:

*a plastic "gold" medal with a star on it hanging from a red/white/blue ribbon
*a plastic tiger
*a figurine of Simba from The Lion King
*a pirate telescope from McDonald's
*a miniature pirate treasure chest with a button inside
*a plastic shark
*a beaded necklace
*a rope bracelet
*a plastic spider
*another beaded necklace
*a plastic crab
*a plastic polar bear
*2 skull rings
*a plastic snow leopard
*a plastic dolphin
*a plastic baby tiger
*a seal
*4 golden coins
*a piece of felt ribbon that has "Hi!" written on it in marker
*another rope bracelet
*another plastic crab
*a turtle
*a leopard seal
*a real quarter
*her fall soccer medal

This only describes one kleenex box. Don't get me started on what is in her "home" backpack, which she takes up the stairs at night and brings downstairs in the morning, or any other container she finds empty around the house.

Not meant to be

Now that I've started the story, I guess I need to finish it. The pea in the pod was not destined to become more than that, just a pea in the pod. Now, that title of my post a few weeks ago is even more fitting than I could have thought. What was once a pea in the pod is not a pregnancy anymore. 10 weeks was all it lasted.

Again, I debated about whether to post, or how much to say. This blog is a sort of journal, but it's really not a personal one. It's more of a place to post pictures for grandmas and say what we're doing lately with a few opinions and some venting here and there. I know that my previous blog did spread the news around, so I feel like I need to do the same now. I don't want to call each individual person I know and have this conversation 20 times. At the same time, I don't mind talking about it, I just don't know who knows what and who doesn't at this point.

As it turns out, the ultrasound photo I posted would turn out to show the healthiest week in my pregnancy, if I had a healthy week. That was the only week that significant growth was measured, that a heartbeat was measurable, and that the technician didn't send me out of the room with a dead silence that you can only interpret in one way.

I have known this day was coming for weeks. I have been prepared. I have had probably at least a dozen different reasons for instinctively knowing that this was not a healthy pregnancy. Still, having "miscarriage" on my reproductive resume was nothing I thought I would ever have.

I have had a total of 5 ultrasounds with this pregnancy - once a week since I first found out I was pregnant. None of them sent me away without a feeling of uncertainty (which is why I was called back again and again to that little dark room.) The last two were the hardest to watch. It didn't take a rocket scientist to tell that the embryo had shrunken, not grown, and that the heartbeat was fading to almost nothing. It was only a matter of time.

That has been the hardest part - the time. Every week that has passed has felt like a month. Every day, I wondered if this would be the day I would start bleeding. Would this be the night David has to take me to the emergency room and we have to call some poor friend out of bed to come stay with the kids? I quit working at the barn and I quit making any big plans because I had no idea when this certain disaster would hit. I hated to give up hope and start wishing for a quick end, but the reality of the facts forced me to start doing that.

Thankfully, I was granted an easy and quick final chapter. Between last week and this week, sometime, the baby (can you even call it that?), the embryo, the mass of cells, died. Even though I knew that news was coming yesterday and we clearly saw it on the 5th ultrasound, the spoken words from the doctor were still hard to take. David choked back tears and I eventually let go in the parking lot.

My choices were few. Do nothing, wait for nature to take it's course (more waiting? more uncertainty? more emergencies in the middle of the night?), or have the surgery. Surgery next week? Surgery tomorrow? Even though David said "I'm really busy tomorrow." I said "I'm not, tomorrow is great."

I feel really really lucky. I had so much control over the last part. We had a wonderful friend take the girls today. David was with me. The procedure was unbelievably short and painless, and I actually didn't feel too terribly bad afterwards either. The doctor gave us a lot of reassurance that I made the right decision to have surgery today. He said after seeing how much tissue there was, that I would have ended up doing an emergency surgery anyway. When I first woke up from the anesthetic, I didn't know where I was or why, but in that same instant the reality exploded in front of me and I had my turn to lose it one more time. Since then, I have really been ok. Close friends have called, family has called and sent flowers, and Julie even sent us home with dinner when we picked up the girls. (Should I say that David was insane and KEPT our appointment to feed the missionaries tonight? I told him he should just give them money to go out to dinner, but he really wanted to do it. He tended the kids, cleaned up the house, and cooked and served dinner while I hid in my room. He deserves lots of husband and daddy medals today.)

There are many more details I could share. I'd rather share some with certain people and others with other people. But I will say that I am ok, things are going to be ok, and we know we'll try again.

ps- I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has helped us through the past few weeks. I know that many have prayed and have offered their service. Even though the outcome wasn't the best, I know that prayers were answered and I know I made it through because of them.

Butterflies

Hattie is finally getting over her walking pneumonia. The sun has now been shining brightly for 2 days, and I couldn't take one more morning of tv/markers and paper/fighting/staring at my computer. I got up this morning and decided to take the little stinkers on an outing.

Our choices were pretty limited. It's still really cold, and Hattie's not quite all the way better, so outside things were off limits. Everything else that is fun and not a germ pool would be in Boston, but there are a few small places in our neck of the woods where you can go to enjoy yourself indoors without touching too many germy things or spending tons of money. One of them is the Butterfly Place. (but it's still a 35 minute drive...)

(3 blue morpho butterflies sitting on a bench together. I thought they looked so cool. They have gorgeous blue irridescent wings on the inside, but they fly really fast and it is hard to get a good picture of them until they land - which is when they immediately close their wings!)

We have been there once before, but Hattie was only a baby. They just opened on Valentine's Day for the season so their flowers and plants are just starting out and it wasn't as lush and gorgeous as it is later in the year. Still, the butterfly room is heated to 85 degrees (YES!) and has fresh dirt, fresh plants, and beautiful butterflies and birds.

Both girls were so SCARED that a butterfly would land on them. I tried to tell them that butterflies don't bite, that they only give you a little kiss. Hattie did end up with a butterfly kiss, but Grace says she's grateful that none kissed her.

(this picture will NOT rotate the right way... but, it is one of my favorites from today.)

We spent a glorious warm hour in the room watching the butterflies go about their business and then the girls went to the gift shop to spend the little handful of dollars they got for Valentine's day from their grandmas.

There were still a few fights and plenty of screaming in the car, but at least it was a change of venue. Thank you butterflies!(an Asian leaf walker bug. It looks almost identical to the leaves it stays on - great camo job!)

(the chrysallis room - you can see all the butterflies in various stages of coming out - some are already out. they keep them in the room until they determine they are healthy enough to be let out with the other butterflies because many come from foreign countries and can transmit disease and also carry parasites and larvae of unwanted foreign bugs. we learned a lot.)

Winter, you are NOT welcome

here anymore.

I haven't blogged for a couple of weeks. There has been nothing noteworthy to say for so long. I feel absolutely BLAH. I'm not happy, I'm not really sad, I just don't feel like anything. I don't feel like doing something fun, I don't feel like going anywhere - I even have my groceries delivered, but at the same time, I am SICK of staying home, I don't feel like cleaning or organizing or crafting or reading or cooking or anything. I have the worst winter blues.

I haven't had winter blues since we moved here. I always got a case of it when we lived in Salt Lake under the grey inversions and disgusting winter smog. But, here, winter is actually pretty sunny and clear, so my mood follows that.

This winter, probably officially started for us with that ice storm that I don't care to reference again. That was followed by so many weeks of minus degree or barely 10 degree weather and storm after storm after storm. Those things combined have left us with a popsicle for a house - our roof and yard around the house buried in 4 inches of ice. The ice dam got so bad that the water started coming in and has now ruined the ceiling in the mudroom.

Still, in the midst of it all, I was grateful that we actually stayed pretty healthy. I couldn't believe that in the worst winter I can remember, no one had a cold or the flu or anything. I thought that too soon. Now that the weather is finally starting to break - above freezing, yay! - we are SICK. Hattie has had a series of colds. I had a pretty good one a few weeks ago, and now we're on another round. Harriet went to urgent care Friday night to find out that she has walking pneumonia. Grace woke up this morning with gallons of snot in her head. (So, we're staying home from church - again.) I feel like crap all the time anyway being pregnant. I am so sick of sitting on my red couch blowing noses!!! My dogs are going completely nuts. They ask to go outside every 10 minutes and continually bring me a ball or something to ask "CAN YOU PLEASE PLAY WITH US???" I took them for a short walk to the bridge the other day, but that was all I could muster.

Will we ever get to go outside again? I relish the short few weeks when winter is breaking before the spring rain and BUGS start up. I fear I will have to wait until August now to actually enjoy going outside. I am totally claustrophobic and just need to get out of here! I am really looking forward to our trip to Salt Lake in April. The weather better be 100% fantastic during our short excursion for Grace's spring break.

I guess that's all the venting I need to do. Here is a totally cute picture of Hattie pretending to go somewhere. She does this all the time - gets all dressed up to leave and tells me she's going to the store or to a party. Poor kid.

hie-yah!

Grace has taken her fascination with China/Asian things one step further. She's now totally into martial arts. She started a karate class a few weeks ago with her best friend Eamon. She was excited to the bones to get her "gi" (outfit) this week and anxiously awaits her next class. They do lots of athletic drills as well as teaching all the traditional karate moves. This has been such a great thing for her. It is so awesome to watch her do something that she loves. Hattie needs a class too - she waits patiently during Grace's karate class, but you can just see how much she wants to be part of the action. I think we'll wait until fall when she starts pre-school to find the right class for her. She is so athletic and nimble, she'd be good at just about anything and she loves anything that involves moving her body. If the dance teacher resurfaces, I'd love to see them both back in dance, but that may not happen. Guess we'll wait and see.

All the nerds in the house stand up...

Everyone knows that David and I are nerds. We loved school, we love science, we are good at math (well, some of us USED to be good at math.) But, I think the people who appreciate my nerdiness the most are my former Chemistry students. My nerdiness validates theirs. (I'm a normal person, right?) A very few of them are now my friends.

My friend Adrienne has always been a person I admired. I have admired her since I first met her as a high school student. If she reads this I know she'll be totally embarrassed, but that's what happens when you make friends with your teacher! She was (is) a model student. She plunged into the work, retried everything until it was perfect, and never failed to ace every single test or task that was given her. I have her handwriting emblazoned in my memory. It was flawless, a work of art. I could have used her tests for a key to grade the rest. I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say that either. She confessed the other day that she and another star student took on the task of teaching one of the most difficult subjects in AP chemistry to the class when I was on maternity leave and the sub had no idea where to begin. (I still feel guilty that she got "the bum" year of my teaching for her AP class. I did not do a very good job that year with my pregnancy.) Not only is Adrienne a stellar student, but she is also a great person. I remember thinking she was so on top of her game in every way in high school. She was not only good at academics, but she played sports, had lots of friends, and had her head on straight.

Adrienne is in her last year at the University of Utah. She majored in chemistry. (what else?) She says she did it because of me. I actually feel bad sometimes that she has subjected herself to one of the toughest majors possible for a pre-med student at the U. I am in awe though. Her knowledge and ability in chemistry surpassed mine a long time ago. She is now in the process of applying to medical school and has received invitations to interview at every top school to which she applied. She's interviewing at Yale tomorrow (decided she was too good for Harvard :-) )

Why do I tell all of this story? I don't know really. She has become a significant part of my life in recent months as we have communicated frequently and spent some quality time together. I think it might also be because on some level I am really proud of Adrienne. Saying I'm proud of her makes it feel like I'm taking a little of the credit for what she has done. But, she is so phenomenal, I don't think any credit is due me since she would have been totally incredible with or without me as her teacher. So I don't know what the right word is. Still, it's flattering to think that she was my student and I might have influenced her in some way. I'm so excited that she calls me her friend now. She has forced me to become better at texting and reminds me of the things I used to be good at and care about.

She was in Boston last week interviewing at Boston University. She forged through a really terrible storm after the interview to come and see me. I picked up a wet and frozen girl from the commuter train station and we had a fantastic night together. We ate at a quaint little grille in Concord, drove around to see some of the historic sites, and came back to my house for a quick "meet the family."

We thankfully remembered to take a picture of us together (although I wish we had remembered in Concord.) David suggested taking one in front of my periodic table that still hangs in the playroom. I thought that sounded the nerdiest of all, but it is definitely fitting.

So, I guess I write all this to say "THANKS" to Adrienne for being my friend, making me feel like I might have made a difference in someone's life, and for loving to be a nerd with me. I selfishly hope that she accepts an invitation to do med school here in Boston.