would like to take a moment...

to give the last month the finger. A lot has happened since my last post. I sort of hate to put this all out on front street but my blog is my release so here goes. If you don't know all of this and you are close to me, please forgive me for not sharing all of this with you personally.

I found out the Tuesday before Christmas that I was pregnant. Holy crap. Totally unexpected, but two pink lines regardless of my expectations. Knowing better, I went to Oxford Kids Co. and bought a sweet little white lamb. I wrapped it up and gave it to Austin and told him he was going to be a daddy again. We cried, hugged, and went to bed to rest up for our early doctor's appointment the next day. I made a quick appointment with Dr. Dulaney because I had been spotting but I wasn't too concerned because I spotted with Andrew. We were both apprehensive to get excited and agreed to set fire to the little white lamb if the blood test turned out to be negative. Laura, Dr. Dulaney's sweet nurse, was pretty excited to see us and hear the news. I kinda think they are all secretly rooting for us a little extra because we lost Andrew and have had such a hard time making him a little bro or sis. She took my blood and told me we'd know in a few minutes. Few minutes go by...blood test positive. The lamb is saved. Dr. Dulaney seems a bit more skeptical since the timelines don't seem to be adding up and the ultrasound looks sketchy. She can't find anything in my uterus and kinda preps me for this not being as perfect as it seems. She said we'd know more the next day when my blood work comes in and we see what my hormone levels were. We went home and settled into the idea that we might be parents again.

The next day, I was a wreck. I just didn't feel like things were right. In my heart, I couldn't shake the feeling that this baby wasn't where he was supposed to be. I kept thinking tubal pregnancy, tubal pregnancy, tubal pregnancy. (where the baby implants in the fallopian tubes instead of the uterus. Tubal pregnancies cannot continue and either miscarry or must be medically/surgically removed.) Corinne tried to ease my mind a bit, but I guess a momma just knows when things aren't right in her body/with her kids. Dr. Dulaney called mid-afternoon and told me that my levels were very concerning. My hormone levels were much too low for this to be a viable pregnancy and I was either miscarrying or had a tubal pregnancy. I hate when I'm right. Merry Effing Christmas.

So began two weeks of blood work and doctor visits. All bloodwork pointed to this most likely being a tubal and not a miscarriage. I spent one night in early January in the emergency room in Memphis with severe cramps. After that, Dr. Dulaney wasn't happy with the way the bleeding was continuing and how my hormone levels were not falling like they should have been. On the 4th, I had a D&C which confirmed the fact that the pregnancy was in fact tubal. I had two shots in my rump of methotrexate to take care of the "products of conception." I wonder who decided on that term. I did my last bloodwork on Tuesday and she's satisfied that this whole ordeal has come to an end.

I feel more hopeless than ever now that we'll ever actually parent a child. We've been struck by lightning twice now and I'm not sure my heart can handle a third. I wonder what I cosmically have done to have this all put in my path. I am not writing this to be pitied or anything of the sort...I'm just wondering aloud. The silver lining in all of this is that I was able to get pregnant...just in the wrong spot. And the awful moldy black lining is that I am much more likely to have another tubal now that I've had one.

And this whole experience has strangely made me feel farther away from my Andrew. I wonder if I'll feel even farther away when I get pregnant for real. It felt awfully like moving on and I'm not sure I liked it.

Happy Birthday Angel

My Andrew's birthday was Monday. One whole year old...geez that went by so quickly. Even so, I feel like I've lived a hundred lives since last December. So much has happened. So much hasn't happened.

We began Andrew's birthday celebration on Friday morning with an early morning flight to Denver. Andrew's Mimi and Pop (aka my parents) and Andrew's Aunt Corinne and Uncle Kent sent us to Denver to get away from the everyday to celebrate his birthday. I was a bit nervous about not being in my comfort zone for this huge day, but it turned out to be the very thing we needed.

We went with really no plans other than to attend the Rowan Tree Foundation's annual candlelight remembrance event. The event was held on Saturday night and it was everything I could have hoped for. I was a little apprehensive about going...not sure why...just seemed kind of like the first day of kindergarten maybe. The ceremony was beautiful...celebratory. I am sad that we had to go...sad that my baby's name had to be on one of the beautiful ornaments hung on the luminaries that lit up the dark, cold night. But so very grateful that mommas like Corinne O'Flynn have events like this so we can feel connected to Andrew.

We had plans to celebrate Andrew's birthday with a nice, romantic dinner. But, the night before, we went to a quiet little restaurant and I instantly knew I couldn't spend his birthday in a somber place. I sat down at the table on the 5th and felt almost exactly like I did on December 16th last year. That night was very possibly the worst night of my life. And I've had some bad nights. We went to Huey's with Austin's family just after we had THE meeting with all of the doctors...the meeting where we issued the DNR and were told that Andrew would most likely die very soon. I wanted to burn Memphis to the ground that night. I remember this intense desire to claw my skin and pull my hair and scream as loud as I possibly could. So out of control...so sad and helpless. I got a good sniff of this feeling again on the 5th so I told Austin that I wanted to do something fun and active on Andrew's birthday. We spent the day in Golden, touring the Coors brewery and every bike shop in town. That night, we went to Dave & Buster's. Its kind of like a Chuck E Cheese's for adults. We ate bad bar food and played skee-ball until our arms hurt. We used to go to this arcade in the Oxford Mall when we first started dating to play skee-ball so it brought back very fond memories. We had more fun together than we've had in a long while. It felt like a place we would've brought Andrew one day. I kind of felt like he was there. I definitely felt like he was proud of us. I grabbed Austin hands before our dinner arrived and told him how proud I was of us. Proud that we've made it the year...proud that I still love him and he still loves me...proud that we are still standing and smiling. Proud to be our boy's strong parents.

The days following have been filled with so many "one year ago today" statements. One momma on a blog I read calls this "walking the weeks" of his life. I like that imagery. I've realized that the 13 days he lived were really so very short. I'm writing this the night of the 14th. (even though the post date says otherwise) One year ago today, we were wrapping things up in Tupelo...readying ourselves for the trip to LeBonheur. We thought we were going there for surgeries to be able to take him home. We found out on the 15th that there would be no surgeries, there would be no going home.

I miss my little boy. I will always miss my little boy. Even when there is another, there will never be him. This simple fact wrecks me. There is a song that I hear a lot in my car called "Jar of Hearts." I cry my eyes out every time I hear it...its got so much anger in it and it speaks to me for some reason. One line says "I've learned to live half alive." I think that's the trick of losing a child, learning to live again. It won't ever be full, complete, carefree, or really truly happy. But it can be a life. A life I still want to live even though he isn't here.

So happy birthday precious little light of my life. I hope this year, in what should be your second year of life, I can continue to dig my way out and make you proud. I hope I can take your little brother or sister to the candlelight next year. I'm so proud to be your momma...so proud your soul still burns in mine. You will never leave your momma's heart.

woohoo!!

Took an ovulation test this morning...two dark pink lines! Looks like I'm a fully functioning girl! Keep your fingers crossed for me ladies...I'm pretty freakin jazzed.

i hate you Monday

Today was no fun. At all. I was off today to go to Dr. Dulaney's office to see if the 100 mg of Clomid did its work. I started off the day after a not so restful nights sleep. I tossed and turned all night because I was burning up! Austin joked this morning that it must have been because I was "cooking eggs." My appointment was at 9:45 and for some reason, I had it in my head that I needed to leave by 8:45. Umm, Memphis is an hour and a half away. I didn't think about this until I was in the car leaving. So, knowing I was going to be late, I called the office and they were, thankfully, really cool about it.

I finally made it there and as soon as I sat down, not one...not two...but THREE very newborn baby boys came in with their glowing post-partum mommies. And when I say newborn, I mean very newborn. The mommas were still having lots of trouble sitting down. I had phantom pains when they did. Ouch. So I just stared straight at the floor until my name was called. It was a long 45 minutes.

The appointment was routine. The medicine did not seem to have had any more effects than the last round. The last round's effects being very minimal and obviously unimportant as I am not currently pregnant. It looks like I have one egg that may or may not do anything. It is on the small end of what they hope to see, but at least its something. She did give me the Ovidrel shot to take again on Wednesday so we'll try that again. I called my family and husband and grumbled and groaned. They were sweet and helpful. Thanks family...you're the best. Austin said that we'd just keep on taking ovulation tests and hope for the best. I feel okay about it now. Several hours ago, I was not okay, but after leveling off, I think I'm gonna be okay.

Going through all of this crazy business trying for another baby, I now realize just what an amazing miracle my Andrew really was. I am keeping my fingers crossed for another one just like him. Precious angel.

thanks a lot ben folds

I'm out of waterproof eyeliner...and its an issue. Went to the bank this morning for the store and while I was parking to go back inside, a Ben Folds song came on called "Still Fighting It." He's singing it to his son...all about the little things they do on a day to day basis and how maybe in 20 years they'll have a beer and talk about all of those insignificant days. total mess of a breakdown in my car + non-waterproof eyeliner = puffy eyed, midnight blue streaky faced Lindsey for the rest of the day. nice.

So the first round of Clomid didn't work. I'm on cycle day 7 so only two more days of Clomid 100mg. I go in next Monday for an ultrasound to see what's going on. We'll see...I'm not holding my breath.

We've rounded the corner and in less than a month, my Andrew would have been one year old. It doesn't seem real that its been almost a year.

this girl I shouldn't be

I've been reminded several times lately of how different I am now...how I don't quite fit anymore. Its this strange combo of belonging and blending in to normal society...almost. There's something a little off, something that makes most uncomfortable. To strangers, it goes unnoticed. I may seem a little sad if someone was paying close attention, but for the most part, I seem okay. To my inner circle, I apparently seem withdrawn and closed off. Its starting to really affect some relationships I hold dearest. I'm not sure what to do about it. I know that I probably wall my emotions up more than I did before so I don't completely fall to pieces. Survival instinct? I try to let people in, but IN is a shitty place to be sometimes. I don't want people to see this raw, wounded, still bleeding out of control side of me. Its always there and I guess I'm not so good at hiding it. I'd rather go about stone-faced...it seems a little easier sometimes. And so, my friends are worried. I know its out of love, but I can sense people getting frustrated with me because of my distance. I have even lost a few friends because of all of this. I realize that may be my fault. Because of what happened, I am not at all the same girl I used to be. I can't care about things that used to be important, I can't be carefree. Life has lost its shine in so many areas and I feel so far removed from who I used to be.

So I'm this other Lindsey now...and my friends and family unfortunately have to get to know me again in this new light. Thank you to all of you who still make the effort. I know I may not be as much fun as I used to be. I know I am quiet a lot and seem so far away, but I am so thankful that you are here...still in my kitchen...still welcoming me into yours.

here goes nothing

I'm about to shoot myself in the stomach...with shot of Ovidrel. I finished my first round of Clomid and it looks like one follicle is ready to release an egg. She said she likes to see more than one and she likes for it to be bigger, but its something. I am fully prepped for this not to work the first time, but I'm pretty happy that something is happening. I can't even begin to think about how I'll feel when I get pregnant again.