A List

I feel like I have a million things to say but I can't seem to organize them. I figured I'd try a list, in no particular order.
1. The Ex is pregnant. She is eight years older than me and a shitty, shitty person and a terrible mother. Her husband smokes a pack a day and looks like a pedophile. So of course, she immediately gets pregnant with a healthy baby while I continue to miscarry. I won't tell you the things I said when I found out; they are pretty horrible.
2. The Kid is not thrilled with the new pregnancy. "They're just treating me so different," he says. He lives with us again. *sigh* And of course, now that The Ex is starting her "new family" she doesn't give a crap about the kid she already has. She doesn't even care if he visits on weekends.
3. The Husband and I are never going to get pregnant again with a teenager living with us. I miss privacy!
4. I had another brief pregnancy in November. It only lasted a week after I found out. I prefer that type of miscarriage to the three month kind, but it still sucks.
5. Due to results of the Celiac antibody panel (which I begged my doctor for), I am now gluten free. The first week was horrible but now I feel great. But I do miss beer. A lot.
6. At this current point in my life, I am the most sad I have ever felt. I cry every. single. day. I am everything 20-year-old me said I'd never be. Most of the time I can't stand my husband, who is never home due to his work schedule anyway. So I'm stuck taking care of his kid, whose mother doesn't want him anymore because she's gestating new spawn. No amount of yoga or meditation seems to help me let it go. I hate my job. The only things that make me smile are my dogs. I'm at a loss for what to do to get myself back on track again.
7. Oh yeah, dogs. Plural. We adopted another dog in September, shortly after Big Dog died. She was abandoned by her previous family (like, literally tied to a tree when they moved away), so she has some "issues" but overall has been a great addition to our household. Girl Dog and Little Dog are best friends and keep me pretty busy. I have officially become a crazy dog lady, and may or may not have dressed them in Santa and Mrs. Claus suits last month. Note to fellow infertiles: get a dog, if you can. It really, really helps.

So there you have it: a list. It's a bit squirrelly and not really complete, but I don't know where to put the things in my head lately so here they go.

Sayonara 2011

Well, thank God that's over. 2011, that is. I am so ready for a new year, a fresh start.

My goal for 2012 is not to be so angry all the time. I spent so much of 2011 angry at things I couldn't control. The always-angry me is not who I really am, it it disrupted my life tremendously.

So here we are, 3 days in and I'm feeling like maybe this is our year. With lots of yoga to clear my head, I'm very optimistic. I think I may even return to the blogosphere, since not every post will be a raging rant.

Wishing you all a happy, healthy 2012. If it's not better than last year, then it better bring the end of the world.

xx

The Truth About Trying

I know I've said before, shortly after I joined the Recurrent Pregnant Loss club, that this blog wouldn't become an infertility blog. But, as I continued to lose pregnancies, my infertility became a huge part of my life as a stepmother. In fact, it nearly destroyed my relationship with my stepson, who I sometimes call "The Boy Who Lived." To raise a child whose mother is a complete wackadoo, who pretty much dropped him like a hot potato when she met a man, when you can't have your own children, is awful. It is truly a special kind of grief (and I know there are so many of you out there with me). When I look at The Kid, I get angry, even still. Why could she have a baby? Why does SHE get to be the mother of the man I love's child? What is wrong with me?
Locked inside my own head, I was losing it. I was tired of people asking when we were going to have kids. I was tired of people not acknowledging that for 7 months last year, I was pregnant. I was a mother. Three times. To three potential children. Who died. I wanted everyone to know what I have gone through. So I started telling them. I tried to move past the loneliness, the shame, and the sadness that reached to the core of my being.
It has been 16 months since we started trying to grow our family. In that time, I have lost three pregnancies and my mind. Now, I'm trying really hard to come back to me.
Today, I stumbled upon this project, The Truth About Trying, an infertility video series built from a partnership between Redbook Magazine and RESOLVE. The goal of the project is the end the stigma of shame and secrecy surrounding infertility, and to start a dialogue about the disease. Though there are many, many blogs out there that provide necessary and meaningful support to women in all walks of infertility and pregnancy loss, I've been hardpressed to find mainstream media that offers the same. I hope this project catches on and inspires women not to suffer in silence anymore. Because it's impossible to do it alone.
If you are struggling to build your family, or if you have friends who are struggling, I recommend checking this series out.

Quotable Sunday

The moment you can visualize being free from the things that hold you back, you have indeed begun to set yourself free.

UNKNOWN

Should Marriage Have a Sell-By Date?

Most of you who read this are probably either in your second marriage, or with to a partner who was married prior to being with you. Being in this situation gives us a unique perspective on the longevity of marriage, I think. This morning, I came across this article on the Huffington Post site.
It discusses how a political party in Mexico is proposing a minimum marriage contract, wherein newlyweds reevaluate their marriage at the two year mark and renew the marriage contract if they are still happy. Child custody and mutual property provisions written into the term contract.
I am fascinated with the idea.
Would you participate in a term marriage? Do you think it negates the whole idea of marriage?
Would you have renewed at two years? I'm not so sure I would have...

Quotable Sunday

I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.

HARPER LEE
TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD

A Sad Goodbye

The one thing that our messed up little family had in common was our Big Dog. The Husband got Big Dog when The Ex left him. Big Dog was a tiny, 15 pound monster, small enough to sit inside The Husband's jacket when they went outside. He grew to be a 90 pound powerhouse who could drag you down the street if he a saw a squirrel he felt was worth it.
The Kid called Big Dog his brother. He was the dog that got him through his parent's divorce. They were the best of friends.
I met The Husband when Big Dog was about a year and a half. At the time, The Husband was a commercial fisherman and was leaving Big Dog alone, in his crate, for way too long. I couldn't bear it and would go over to his apartment and let Big Dog out, take him for walks play with him. We became fast friends.
A year after that, I moved in with The Husband. I took it upon myself to acclimate the puppy to living outside the crate. He was a crazy dog and this was no easy task. At the time, The Husband had this hideous living room set. It looked like he stole it from a retirement home in south Florida. It. Was. Awful. I came to find out that The Ex had chosen it for their marital home. Now, Big Dog had a penchant for couch cushions. He loved to jump on them, chew them, rip them off the couch etc. Did I mention he was a crazy dog? Well, I may have encouraged said behavior because about a month in to my out-of-crate training, that awful, awful couch was all but destroyed. Stuffing was everywhere, pillows were shredded, fabric was dirty and torn. (I may or may not have helped in the process.) I think all stepmoms can related to wanting as many traces of the ex-wife out of their lives as possible. Big Dog helped to start the purge (and was a great scapegoat!).
I never shared this story with The Husband until this past Monday, when we spent the day remembering all sorts of things about our Big Dog. We came home from getting ice in the neighboring state (since Irene knocked out our power for three days) to find our beloved Big Dog lying next to Little Dog's crate, cold and lifeless. He was not sick (that we know of) and he was not old. We have no idea what happened. We are devastated.

Big Dog saw us through a lot. The divorce. The Ex taking away The Kid. Us splitting up. Our eventual reconciliation and marriage. Our miscarriages. Our grief. Our triumphs. He was always there to put his massive head and your lap, look up with his big, kind eyes and let you know that everything would be okay. The day he died, I gave him a huge hug and told him he was my favorite dog ever. I didn't know that I would come home just a few short hours later and he wouldn't be there anymore. I'm so, so glad those were my last words to him.

Little Dog, you have some big paw prints to fill.

Quotable Sunday

For every loss there is an equal gain, for every gain there is an equal loss.

YOGI TEA BAG

Quotable Sunday

The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES

And Now I'm Back

Eight months ago, I pulled a disappearing act. Shortly after my second miscarriage, I just couldn't think of anything nice to say. It was better to say nothing at all. So I shut my blog down and retreated into a haze of anger, frustration, anxiety and depression.
Then I got pregnant again!
And then I miscarried...again.
3 miscarriages in 8 months, a live-in suicidal teenager and an unemployed husband made me just about as much fun as a vat of vomit.
A lot has transpired in the past 8 months. After I started to lose my mind, we worked out a custody situation where the brunt of The Kid's needs don't fall on me. We now have him every other week, Saturday to Saturday, so at least I have two weeks a month where I can pretend I live a normal life. I don't pick him up from school unless it is convenient for me, I cook what I want to eat and let him go hungry if he says it's "disgusting," I don't assume extra responsibilities because his parents are too busy or too lazy. It's kind of amusing to watch my husband actually have to parent, and realize how much I was doing to accommodate his kid. He thanks me daily now (The Husband, not The Kid).
I have been officially labeled "infertile" by my many (many) doctors because I just can't seem to sustain a pregnancy. Despite months of testing, nothing appears wrong with me and they all keep telling me to just try again. In the words of my former doc, Dr. Douchebag, "You might have 10 more miscarriages, but eventually one will probably stick." Um, no thanks.
I started acupuncture, mainly just to get a quiet hour to myself every week. The good news is I definitely feel less anxious, and my acupuncturist has answers that my other doctors don't. She sees things wrong with me that we've been treating and people who don't even know my story are always telling me how much better I look. Maybe that's the 43 supplements and herbs I take daily? She is completely confident that I will have a successful pregnancy on my next try (though I am oh so terrified to try again). Even if I don't try again, I feel so much more balanced.
My husband got me a puppy for Mother's Day. At first I was pissed at him, wondering how he could possibly think a puppy would take away the hurt of losing three pregnancies, of facing a future as a childless woman (not childless couple, because, well, you know...). But holy hell, this puppy changed my life. Our other dog is 8 and I love him, but he is my husband's dog through and through. The little guy is mine. He follows me everywhere, listens to my commands, loves to snuggle up and watch a movie and is just an amazing creature. Having him around has made me happier (in conjunction with other changes, I'm sure), even when I'm cleaning up after one of his terror sprees.
I turned 30 and celebrated the death of my 20s in style! We had an amazing party that people are still talking about. I'm not one for birthday parties, but I felt like 30 needed to be celebrated, and I needed something to celebrate in general.
We also celebrated our second wedding anniversary, a more somber one than most early anniversaries, I'm sure, but still triumphant.

I've missed you all and your daily musings. I tried to keep up, but I needed a mental break from all things stepmom. Just focusing on my day-to-day took that much energy. At this point in my life, I'm finally starting to feel like myself again, like the person I was when I met my husband. My body and mind are still tired and sad, so I still have much healing to do, but I feel like I'm coming back. Wounds are closing into scars, instead of staying open and tender. I'm on the path to being me again.