Don't Put All Your Eggs in One Ovary

And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. ~ Unknown

Here we are again. Me versus another barren Christmas. Last year at this time I should have still been pregnant. I wasn't of course. So instead I prayed for a Christmas miracle. I prayed that God would bless me with another baby that would be here in time for this Christmas. That wasn't to be either. This year, I'm scaling it down a bit and praying for a Christmas conception. Isn't that how it works? I just keep bargaining with God like he's the guy at the flea market selling the knock-off Coach and eventually I will get what I want? I'm not exactly a theologian but I'm pretty sure the Bible doesn't promise that.

At any rate, we are taking a more proactive approach this year. An approach that I have been hesitant to pursue. Trying to conceive naturally for over a year without any success is hard enough on the spirit. But to involve doctors and drugs and treatments and to invest money and time and other resources...well it's an even more draining approach. But we have decided it is time to journey down that path.

Our new game plan involves moving forward with AI with some slight variations given my funny anatomy. Dr. Fertile Myrtle will conduct a monthly ultrasound to see which of my ovaries (right or left) will be releasing the egg for that cycle. If it's my right ovary, we are clear for insemination. I was pregnant with Caleb in my right uterus and it is definitely the bigger and safer side to attempt another pregnancy. Sadly, if it's my left ovary poppin' out the egg we are out of luck for that month. Trying an insemination in my left uterus is not only risky but almost impossible considering my doctor can't really access it.

So it sounds simple enough, right? Well it could be, but it can also be very difficult. Since my right uterus is much smaller than a complete uterus it's very dangerous for me to get pregnant with more than one baby. So the medicine they typically have women use to stimulate egg development is out of the question for me because it also increases your chances of ending up with 8 kids and a reality television show. Or, in my case, probably another loss. No big deal, you say, just wait until you ovulate on your right side. The problem is that there's no way to predict which side will release the egg. My left side may decide that it wants to pull rank over my right ovary and the more room-y uterus and spit out eggs for the next several months. In that case, we are just at a stand still. And the drugs that they could give me to stimulate both ovaries to produce eggs are banned from my medicine cabinet. Sure, we can try on our own. But the odds are very slim (like 0%) that I will get pregnant on the left side.


So as for that Christmas prayer of conception...well it's out. My ultrasound on Wednesday revealed that my left ovary produced the egg this cycle. So another barren Christmas awaits me this year but I have not lost my hope for a very fruitful 2010.

Please Remember Me

It's not how long a star shines, but the brightness of its light. -Unknown

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. At 7 p.m. local time all around the world grieving parents, family members, and friends are lighting candles in honor of babies that were called home to spend eternity with the Lord.

Tonight, just like last year, Brandon and I lit a candle in honor of our son and for all of the other babies who stayed just a minute but changed the lives of so many.

To every parent who has ever lost a baby whether it be through a miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, prematurity, or any other tragic circumstance. This candle is for your angel. Or maybe your baby wasn't a baby at all. Maybe he was 5 or 24 or 36. This candle is for your angel, too. To every parent who has ever had to arrange a funeral, plan a memorial, buy a headstone, or kiss a cold forehead. This candle is for your angel. To every parent whose memories aren't memories at all but rather hopes and dreams that were shattered the day you learned your baby's heart would beat no more. This candle is for your angel.

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. It's meant to bring awareness to those who have suffered the loss of a baby. I'm very aware, but I wish wasn't.

For more information please visit http://www.october15th.com/ .

What A Difference A Year Makes...In Some Ways

Goodbyes are not forever. Goodbyes are not the end. They simply mean I'll miss you, Until we meet again! ~Author Unknown

Yesterday was one year since I gave birth to our beautiful baby boy. It wasn't the birth I imagined only weeks earlier. It was quiet, fast, and not physically painful. Still it was my first birth and I own those memories. And I own his memory. It is up to me to make sure his little life wasn't in vain.Yesterday being one year since the day I brought a tiny,lifeless baby boy into this world, I tried my best to honor his memory.

The day started with Brandon and I reading Caleb's memorial in the newspaper.

Later we picked up some donations for Touching Little Lives from my mom and sisters. This wonderful organazation handmakes clothing, blankets, and stuffed animals for premature, stillborn, and low income babies. When Caleb was born we received a beautiful gown, blanket, and hat. This was our chance to give back to other families going through a similar struggle.

After a very peaceful lunch with Brandon, we went shopping for our own donations for TLL. We picked up some beautiful fabric, yarn, and ribbon. We found the most beautiful fabric with stars and moons on it and bought all they had left! I think that was a sign from our little guy.

We met up with Marianne from TLL and gave her all of the donated items we received. Thank you to everyone who donated both materials and money. They were so thankful for everything they received.

Finally, we headed down to St. Jospeh's Cemetery to complete what we have decided will be our yearly tradition. Earlier in the day it was raining but the sun came out as we were driving. It turned into a beautiful afternoon and the clouds almost brought tears to my eyes.

Once we got to the cemetery, we left the flowers at the statue at the front of the baby section. Then it was time to let our balloons go.

And you can probably guess what happened next. Yup, they got stuck in the tree, Brandon's popped, and I cried. We even made it a point to walk as far away from the trees as we could, but the wind still carried our 3 little balloons bound for Heaven right into them. Brandon assured me that Caleb probably thought it was hilarious until I started crying. And that he probably would have popped them as soon as he got them anyway. After I calmed down, I came to the conclusion that maybe they didn't need to go all the way to Heaven because yesterday Caleb was with us.

After leaving the cemetery, we headed down to the farm markets and pumpkin patch. We bought 4 pumpkins this year- one for Daddy, one for Mommy, one for Lacy, and one for Caleb. Caleb's was a little bigger this year because, as Brandon said, he is a little bigger this year.

One the way home we drove past the cemetery again only this time our balloons weren't in the trees any more. Caleb must have taken them back to Heaven with him.

I have missed my son every single day of this last year. Often times, I miss him so much that I cry. I'm not crying for him though, he is at peace. The Lord spared him even one minute of suffering on this earth. I cry for myself and the hole in my heart that will never be filled. I cry for Brandon everytime we pass a park and a father and son are playing catch. I cry for everyone else who loved Caleb. I cry because each day that passes is one day further from the short time I spent with him. My memory becomse more blurred and I remember less and less. The way he smelled, the way he looked, the way he felt.

I never want to forget and yesterday I didn't.

One Year Ago This Game

College Football...in the midwest it's a sure sign of fall and a way of life all year long. I've been an Ohio State Buckeye fan since I was old enough to hold a pom-pom. There are pictures of me as a toddler walking around in a Buckeye's cheerleader uniform. Gamedays are a huge tradition with my family and friends.

When I was pregnant, one of the first things I bought was a bib that said "I Slobber Scarlet and Gray". Once we found out we were having a boy, Brandon and I bought Caleb every Buckeye outfit we could find. My original due date was scheduled the same day as the National Championship game that every Buckeye fan prays we will play in every year. I imagined laying in the hospital bed, nursing Caleb, and watching our Bucks bring home a National Title.

I had visions of Caleb playing football one day, taking him to games in the 'Shoe, and establishing that weekly autumn tradition with my little boy. My uncle (the man that raised me as his own daughter) made OSU games one of the most memorable parts of my childhood. I couldn't wait to pass that on to my little one.

Tonight, OSU is playing USC. It's a huge game. Two top ten teams going at it. Tickets were $4,000+ in some cases. The whole town of Columbus is basically tuned into this game. This is a make or break game for OSU and for all it's fans. All I can think about is last year, when OSU and USC met for a game on a night like this, at this same time. The weather here was almost the same. All my friends and family were talking about the game all week. I watched the game on the same TV, wearing this same shirt, with the same excitement. One thing was so different then though.

Last year, when I watched this game, I had Caleb with me. He was rooting the Buckeye's on with his mommy and daddy. We were counting down the days until he would join us and we could put all the adorable little scarlet and gray outfits on him. He was still here, very real to me- not just a memory. Not just a could have been or should have been. People were all too eager to talk about him. To share in my excitement about having my very own lil' Buckeye.

Not anymore.

My son is gone. My happiness, my excitement, my hopes are gone too. I miss him so much tonight. He should be here, cheering for our team with me. He should be wearing a little jersey. I should be plastering my Facebook with pictures of him. But he's just not.

The entire city is buzzing with excitement for this match-up that is about to start and all I can think about is how much better things were one year ago this game.

Something in the Air

Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause
between the opposing miseries of summer and winter. ~Carol Bishop Hipps

We've been having unseasonably cool weather the past couple of days. It feels and looks like early Fall. Nobody is at the pool, enjoying the last few days of summer break. Everyone grabs a sweater before heading outside. If I hid the calendar, I would swear that it was October and not August.

This mild weather has transported me back to last year. To the last time I felt weather like this. The temperature outside has that same crisp feeling that it did on October 2nd, 2008. The night that I left the Maternity Ward feeling very un-maternal.

The grass is getting darker- turning from it's usual bright summer green, to a more muted green that it turns every year just before dying. I look out my window and see the same color grass I did on October 4th, 2008. The day that was supposed to be my baby shower, but instead turned into a day of visitors dropping off flowers and food and making awkward conversation before quickly shuffling out the door.

There is even a smell in the air. I'm pretty sure it's a Midwest smell symbolizing the end of pool parties and cook-outs and the beginning of college football and leaf blowing. It's the same smell that was in the air on October 26th, 2008- the day we had Caleb's memorial service. I stood there, in front of family and friends, reading a letter I wrote to Caleb- feeling the crisp air, noticing the dying grass, and smelling that autumn smell.

I was closer to him then. His hospital gown still had the remnants of his smell. People around me still let me grieve openly and honestly. I could still remember the way his skin felt against my lips.

The weather is back, but my Caleb is gone forever.

Our Thing

Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down. ~Bede Jarrett

I've been M.I.A. lately. Writing about Caleb, whether other people read it or not, is helpful sometimes. Most of the time actually. But there are times, like these past few weeks when writing is just too much. It brings up too many emotions that are already making it hard just to live life each day.

Brandon tells me that Caleb is "our thing". I can't expect other people to remember him, to celebrate his life the way we do. He says that by expecting that from everyone I'm just causing myself more pain. I KNOW he is right. It makes sense. He's our son--we are the people responsible for his legacy. Still, sometimes is nice when people remember. It's nice when grandparents include him in their counts of grandchildren or when people bring him up in conversation. I know I can't expect this from everyone all the time, but occasionally it's nice to know that people still care and remember him and the life that was cut way too short.

Caleb is "our thing", probably more so "my thing". I was the first one to know he was growing inside me, to feel him move, to hold him, to kiss him. The moment I found out there was a baby on the way my life changed. I started making all these plans. I had him grown-up and married off before I was 15 weeks along. Now here I am with nothing but a memory and a broken heart.

Oh...and some flowers....

Happy Every After....