Another One Bites the Dust

Sigh.
Miscarriage #2 is in progress. Two pregnancies and two losses in 4 months. I promise this isn't becoming a pregnancy blog. Or fertility-struggle blog. It's just the story of a girl who sacrificed everything for a kid that wasn't hers and then couldn't have kids of her own. I know there's lots of you out there.
I really think there is little out there that can make you hate being a stepparent more than repeatedly losing your own pregnancies. Not a hostile, selfish, destructive, money-sucking ex. Not a slovenly, ungrateful teenage stepchild.
This girl is doing what she does best and looking to relocate. This may or may not entail The Husband coming with me. This, of course, does not mean we'll divorce. I just know he won't leave where we live, and I'm looking to move internationally for grad school. It would only be a couple of years. This is something I have been tossing around for a long, long while. Long before I even met him. And though marriage requires compromise, I have been consistently held back by the man that I love. I feel like I have compromised an awful lot for him over the past seven years and I'm ready to live my life again, to better my life, to do the things I've put on the back-burner because I was cleaning up someone else's mess. I know it sounds weird, but I'm excited for the opportunity this loss has presented me with.
Again, thank you for all the positive vibes you sent my way, you have no idea how much they were appreciated. Now, it's time to focus on getting through the holidays. Hey, at least now I can have a drink, right?

Not To Be

Our restful weekend away turned out to be one of the worst weekends of my life. If you follow me on Twitter (which I rarely use, but did this weekend), you probably already know that while up in the mountains I lost my pregnancy. I started spotting the day we left and by the next day was worried enough to go to the ER. The nurse told me everything was fine. The doctor told me everything was fine but he was going to order a routine ultrasound. The ultrasound tech saw no heartbeat. After 8 hours in the ER, we went back to our hotel room devastated. I called my midwife the next morning and she wanted me home just in case any complications arose. Thank jeebus we came home. The bleeding turned to hemorrhaging then quickly turned to an emergency situation and I was rushed to our hospital (luckily only four blocks from our home) for an emergency D & C. Alas, I am no longer pregnant.
I am disappointed, but I do understand that this is nature's way of saying, "This really isn't going to work out." The doctor who performed the surgery said it's perfectly natural (though of course that doesn't soften the blow) and that everything looks fine in my babymaker so I shouldn't have any problems in the future. I don't know if we'll be trying again in the near future...this may have been one of the most traumatic experiences of my life and I don't know that I'm ready to be pregnant again. I'm pretty sure I'll be a major shitshow for the duration of the pregnancy if we do have another.
The worst part of all this was probably telling The Kid. I was in the hospital on his scheduled pick up day and his mother was being impossibly difficult about him not coming over. As usual she HAD to know what was going on and refused to accommodate our request until we told her what the medical emergency was (control freak?). The Husband refused and picked up The Kid behind The Ex's back for a few hours so he could explain. If there's anyone in the world I don't want to know about this it's her. I don't need her to dance around her cauldron at my misfortune. She flipped when she figured out The Kid had been picked up and went to her boyfriend's, telling The Husband if he could pick up The Kid for a few hours then he could take him for the routine visit (at that point I almost wanted him to tell her so she would feel like an absolute heel).
The Kid is devastated....big, gasping, sobbing tears. He was concerned that I was going to die and then horrified. He goes to a Catholic school, so the images in his head were of the anti-choice propaganda he has been shown at school. We assured him that though we were all excited, it wasn't a "baby" yet and that the instructions for growing into a baby were glitched, something was wrong and it had to happen. The last thing he said: "I don't want to be too old to spend time with my little brother or sister," through alligator tears. Crack went my heart.
Because I was not to be left alone due to the circumstances, The Kid had to go back to his mom's just in case. He didn't want to leave, but assured me his lips were sealed (I didn't even ask) and it was no one's business but ours "because we're tight like that." His mom stayed at her fiance's all night, and he was left with his grandma, who they live with. Nice, huh?
I have to admit, it makes me mad that someone like her had a perfect pregnancy and a perfect baby and is such a monster. The Husband and I are firm believers in karma and do our best to do right by everyone. Yes, we make mistakes but our intentions are always honorable. I thought maybe this pregnancy was my reward for that. I know making comparisons is only torturing myself but it really does seem unfair. I truly hope that one day I can be a "real" mom. But I'm not ready to try again just yet.

Though choices one makes during pregnancy and pregnancy loss are very personal, my advice after my own experience is this:
1. Tell your family and anyone you would want support from about your pregnancy early in your pregnancy. It is so meaningful to share in the joy before you reveal the news to the general populace and their support if you do miscarry is invaluable. When I was at the hospital here, my sister drove down from her house (an hour away) to put away all pregnancy related things in my house before I came home. I have had a constant stream of visitors bringing food (and ice cream!), movies and just company. My mom bought groceries for the rest of the week and stayed to cook dinner last night. The gentle calls and texts just checking in have been really nice, and feeling this much love when you feel so empty is invaluable.
2. If you do miscarry, opt for the D&C as soon as you can. I opted to miscarry on my own because I felt that I hadn't really had a chance to feel anything of this pregnancy. I was so incredibly stressed out and busy with work the three months I was pregnant that I never really got to experience anything except exhaustion. I figured I may as well experience this; I just wanted to do it naturally. Bad choice. It was very painful physically, and very traumatic emotionally. You don't want to feel it, and you don't want to see it. Trust me. It was scary, and in the end I needed the D&C anyway on an emergency basis. My husband was so worried he could barely keep it together. I've never been to the hospital before for anything so my first visit on an emergency basis was...unforgettable.
3. If you work, take time off. I took the rest of the week off. I'm a very stubborn woman and always think I can do everything and do it by myself. Truth is, I'm still full of pregnancy hormones but not pregnant. I'm still having some physical discomfort and my pregnancy body is returning to a non-pregnancy body. Though I'm fine, I still have my moments. A stray pregnancy magazine under the couch or an email from babycenter.com sends me to a different place. Realizing the new bras I bought already are too big sends me flying to my room to change my clothes. It's little reminders but they are everywhere and you don't want to be at work trying to mask your feelings. Personally, I need to acknowledge them to move on.
4. Eat ice cream for breakfast. Just because you can.

Thank you all for letting my share my excitement and joy here, for all your wonderful comments and for your support. Though I don't "know" any of you, I feel like I got to share something wonderful with a circle of great friends. It means a lot to me. You guys rock!

A Positive Reaction

Exhaustion is the name of the game lately. I am *so* tired! Work has been stressful and the hours have been long, and then there's life to deal with after that. Throw early pregnancy fatigue to the mix, and when I have down time I'm sleeping.
So much has been going on in our stepfamily life that I can't even process it all. And I haven't really wanted to think about it after dealing with it, so I haven't written about it here. Let's just say, I don't appreciate hypocrites. But for once, The Ex's ridiculous need for control (legally, she has sole custody) is biting her in the ass. Haha. Ha.
We're still in that early pregnancy limbo where we haven't told anyone except our families. My parents are thrilled as this first grandchild for them. The Husband's mother is super excited and hoping for a girl. She hardly got to be involved with The Kid when he was little because The Ex doesn't like her and did her best to keep the baby away, so having a grandchild she can spend unlimited time with is really exciting for her. My sister already started buying things and she calls me every day to ask what's happening developmentally that day (as if I know!).
My sister-in-law, on the other hand, is pissed. She is 6 years older than me, and has been married to my brother for 8 years but has no children yet. They aren't sure they want children and have never tried. But when she found out I was expecting she cried and told me it wasn't fair, that she should have been the first. Now, every time I see her she asks if I'm showing yet or if it's just me getting fat. Passive aggressive behavior at it's finest.
I was most nervous to tell The Kid. My hormones have me crying at the strangest things, and a poor reaction from him would send me into uncontrollable sobs. I didn't want to be there when The Husband told him, just in case.
Well, The Husband had an opportunity last night to tell The Kid while I was cooking dinner. They were out in the yard. I knew what was going on but stayed in the kitchen. I thought I heard The Kid start to cry and I felt the lump start to form in my throat. My mind went spinning in all sorts of directions (...you know...). I continued stirring the soup and staring down into the pot. I heard the screen door slide open and someone walk into the kitchen. It was The Kid.
I turned around and he had the biggest smile on his face. No tears. He gave me a huge hug and then put his head down by my lower abdomen and said, "Hi baby sibling!" He then turned to me and said, "You'll be a great mom. You already are!" (yes, I did melt)
He was happy! Seeing him smile at the news lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. I hadn't realized how much wondering about his reaction was stressing me out. Honestly, I haven't been excited at all...until now. I feel like knowing that everyone is on board with this change makes it a little more real. It doesn't matter what his mother says to him about the new sibling because he's happy. And frankly, anything negative she says about our baby will only work against her since she is planning on having "a new family."
After his dad told him, The Kid spent the next two hours talking about his new sibling. He's slightly obsessed with the Friday the 13th series right now and thinks we should name the baby Jason (not happening) or maybe something from The Godfather like Vito or Santino (also not happening).
He talks to the baby all the time and he worries about my well being. My husband has a bad habit of driving over curbs when turning (we have an ORV so it's not too bad, but still...) and every time he does The Kid yells at his dad and then asks if I'm okay. He can't wait to be a part of the process and wants to be at the hospital when baby is born ("but I don't want to look at it until they clean it up! Gross!"). He's counting down the days until he can feel the kicks and has already planned out the first five years of little sibling torture. Did I mention baby is going to dress as Jason from Friday the 13th for his or her first Halloween?
I suppose my defense mechanism is to always assume the worst. I think it's classic stepmom behavior. Then, if the worst happens we were expecting it and anything other than that is an improvement. In this case, I couldn't have asked for a better situation. Or a better stepson.
Otherwise, I've had a very easy early pregnancy. No sickness (I know, I'm lucky!), just fatigue and some crazy mood swings. I actually cried at an episode of Little Chocolatiers while on the treadmill at the gym. I don't cry at TV shows! I don't cry in public! I'd never even seen that show before! And my poor husband...he doesn't now how to deal with this suddenly hyper-sensitized woman living in his house. His philosophy (and it's a good one) is just to keep his mouth shut.
We're going away this weekend, just us, to the lake for some R&R. It's a belated birthday present to me (my birthday was last month but I couldn't take any time off because of my crazy work schedule). We're turning off our phones, disconnecting from technology and enjoying each others company. And, for the first time since we found out, rejoicing in the changes coming our way as we grow our family.

Big News

Back in April, I wrote this post about how my experience as a stepmom has helped me decide that I would like to be a mother to my own children. Your comments really meant a lot to me in that post, and led to many discussions with The Husband about what we felt was the right time for us. He has always been of the camp that we will make it work, whenever it happens. My Type A personality leads me to think of all the practical, and not-so-practical, issues involved in such a life change.
I have had this nagging feeling that now is the time, despite the fact that I'm young and, statistically, have "plenty of time." Maybe it's my biological clock ticking, or maybe it's something greater. I don't know.
But I do know that yesterday I saw a tiny heart beating on an ultrasound machine. Yesterday, I saw with my own eyes that I am now a mom.
Whoa.
Aside from my husband, three of my best friends, two co-workers (who I had to tell because of the nature of my job) and my brother, who deduced it by himself, you (yes, you, the entire interweb!) are the only ones I have told. Erring on the side of caution, we're waiting to spread the news to our friends and family until we're a bit further along. I figured I could share on this venue because the support you all offer me is unparalleled and I would want (and need) that same support if anything were to go wrong.
Stepfamily-wise, we won't be telling The Kid until the end of August. I'm very nervous about his reaction and really hoping that he takes it well. I'm also really hoping that his mother doesn't try to put a negative spin on the situation. And that she doesn't use this as an excuse to go batshit crazy again.
So I apologize for the lack of updates, but I've been completely wiped and a bit overwhelmed. Once work calms down I'll have more time to catch up, because, boy, do I have a lot of catching up to do!

The Heart of the Universe

One of my core beliefs is that family is the heart of the universe - however it is constructed, whether through a blood connection, a spiritual connection or an emotional connection. I have been taught this from a very young age through the example of my own family.
We'll take in anyone. Holiday festivities include my grandparent's widowed friends, my single friends with no family, our friends whose family lives far away, people who have no other place to go. None of these people ever feel like an outsider, and we're always happy to have them. Come what may, nothing is more important to me than this.

***

When I was younger I said I never wanted to get married.. As I entered my late twenties, I started really examining that claim. Why didn't I want to get married? I realized it was all trivial, and that in order to fully experience this life I should give it a whirl. Of course, it helps that I met a wonderful partner, the yin to my yang. So married we were. It's no 1950s sitcom relationship, but the whole experience of it, the ups and the downs, is a good one. I'm so glad we did it.
Similarly, I've always waffled between having children and remaining childfree. Of course, that all changed when I inherited a stepchild. I love every minute of watching The Kid experience the world. I love teaching him. I love exploring with him. I love him.
And, I love what I have learned about myself from him. I didn't know I was capable of so much patience, I didn't know I would be such a good mediator, I didn't know I could do this.
Being a stepmom has changed my life forever. For the better. It taught me that I could be a good mom. I will be a good mom. And suddenly I find myself wanting to be just that - a mom.
I don't just want a baby (sure, they're cute but I quite like that the kid we have now can wipe his own ass!). What I want is to grow our family - for the heart of our universe to grow stronger. I want to experience what it is like to be a mother. A real mother. I want to be pregnant, to create a person, to parent from the start. I want my children to know my grandparents, my parents, my uncles. I want to give all of those people the gift of another family member. I want to teach, and I want to learn. I want to experience this part of life. And I don't just want it for me; I want it for my husband, The Kid, my parents, siblings, grandparents, my husband's mother.
All of this hit me like a truck. It was, literally, like I woke up one day and realized this was the path I wanted my life to take.
And of course, with all these thoughts and feelings comes the anxiety. What if I can't have children? What if something is wrong with my child? (Read all about that here.)
Alas, I have been bitten by the baby bug. Both my husband and I would love to expand our family for reasons, I believe, are meaningful. However, he just started working again (like, last week) after a long hiatus and we have some debt to deal with. And health insurance is so expensive; to add a child to my policy would decimate my salary. With me being the breadwinner right now, we just can't afford it.
It's tough, with all the unknowns out there, to postpone something like this. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what the universe has planned for us.

ChildFREE

Many, though not all, of the stepmom blogs I read are written by stepmoms who do not have children of their own. Perhaps because this is a large segment of the stepmom blogging sect, perhaps because I'm drawn to them.
Not having one's own child(ren) can complicate the stepfamily dynamic in many ways. As Wednesday Martin observes and La Belle Mere UK so aptly applies, stepmoms without kids of their own are more prone to feeling like an outsider. People make gross assumptions about us because we don't have kids. Yeah, it can be a sucky sucky suckfest.
But what really grinds my gears, as Peter Griffin would say, is when people call us childLESS stepmoms.
Some of us are, unfortunately, unable to have children - due to medical reasons, infertility or plain old poor timing. A vat of boiling emotional acid for any couple, I can only imagine this experience is magnified one thousand percent in a marriage to a man who already has children. To those of you: you are among the most courageous people I know (and don't yet know) and I hope your heart has found peace and comfort somewhere along the line.
But many of us are childFREE, by choice. As the childfree by choice pages states, "We choose to call ourselves 'childfree' rather than 'childless,' because we feel the term 'childless' implies that we're missing something we want - and we aren't."
Me, I'm fairly young and just might have kids of my own one day. Physically speaking, I've got a few good years of babymaking left in me, barring any unforseen complications. But I've made it to my ripe ol' age with no children because I have chosen not to have any. So right now, I'm childFREE.
I'm not missing anything in my life. I'm newly married with a tweenage stepson. I'm a successful full-time professional. I travel, I sleep in, I go out drinkin'. My life is chaotic, exciting and just where I want it to be right now . I don't have kids because I'm driven, career-minded and, above all, responsible.
Women who can't have bio-children don't want to be reminded of this fact by the implication that, as childless, they are missing something they so deeply wanted. And women who don't want to have children shouldn't be pitied (or scorned, for that matter) because of their choice.

Childless is a yucky word. Much yuckier than some words considered socially offensive.

Let's get rid of it.



Need more food for thought? Try this article.


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