Have you tried...

The past few years, I have had people (probably well-meaning, but so incredibly annoying) give me "advice" on how to get pregnant.  Or even worse, do something extremely passive aggressive to let me know their opinion.

"You just have to relax."

Uh, you relax.  When does anyone relax when someone tells them to relax?  Seriously, when?  Even when I am relaxed, I am still not pregnant.  Being relaxed does not work when dealing with infertility.

"Have you tried this (flowery/citrusy/healingy scent) essential oil?"

Yes.  Not only have I tried essential oil, I have tried acupuncture and chiropractors, cutting out dairy, cutting out red meat, only eating organic, exercise, and god knows what else.  And you know what, it didn't help me with my infertility.  

"I watched a documentary on how your thyroid affects fertility, have you had your thyroid looked at?"

Yes.  That was one of the first things looked at when it took me 15 months to get pregnant with a blighted ovum.  That is one of the first things all fertility doctors look into because it one of the easier and less invasive things to fix.

"You should get a second opinion."

Yep.  Did that.  I did two rounds of IVF at one clinic and two at another.  The second clinic figured out why we could not develop embryos.  

Conceive Naturally

The husband worked with this guy who was "Christian" and knew the ways of the Lord and fertility.  I will refer to this guy as JA for JackAss.  JA tells the hubs about this fertility thing he knew of called "Conceive Naturally".  The husband, not knowing what it was, tells me and I look it up.  Apparently, it is the church's version of sex ed and timing intercourse.  

Man, JA is so smart.  I would have never thought of timing.  What was I thinking?

I told the husband what JA's fertility plan was, and told him he was passive aggressively telling him, he does not approve of us doing IVF.  Hubs does not talk to him about fertility treatments any more, and when JA tries to bring it up, the husband tells him we aren't doing those Conceive Natural courses he told us about.  

Eventually, JA proves that he is a JA to the company and decides to move back to his home state.  Knowing my husband would have to finish cleaning out his cube, what does he leave behind?  One of those Conceive Naturally pamphlets. 

  

The Support Group

I recently, as in today and the last couple of days, had someone I know send me an invite for this group about babies. She was one of the admin.  I met this person through a support group for couples who had a stillbirth or miscarriage, so I figured it was probably supportive.  I join it and the first thing I see is that the other admin had changed the name of the group from something about naturally getting pregnant to something a bit more progressive.  The first article that was shared was about how all these women get pregnant after a failed IVF round.

Uh...huh...So needless to say, I left that group.  I wonder what this person would say had she known that I am using a donor egg... Then, I remember how this twit judged another of the mamas from our support group for not breastfeeding her twins.  Really?  We all had to bury babies and you are worried about her feeding her babies?  

Endometriosis is the worse.

No, seriously, it sucks.  The doctor said endometriosis is spectrum disorder in that the severity of it affects people differently.  I experience cramping, but not as bad as others.  Instead, endometriosis destroyed my egg quality.  The quality of my eggs diminished rapidly the past 5 years while I was not on birth control.

  

I was able to get pregnant with Genevieve so easily because I had been on birth control for 15 years prior to that.  So I have probably always had endometriosis, but I was unknowingly treating it all those years.  

The morale of the story is endometriosis destroyed my ovaries and nothing short of using an egg donor will give me a rainbow baby.  No, you cannot fix me. Whisper the advice into your hand, and then, slap yourself in the face with it.

Thank you.

The Letter

Dear Genevieve, 

I offered to write a letter to the couple who was unsure if they want to donate their embryos. I figured I would pour my heart out and it would come together, but that wasn’t exactly how it came out. 

First, I wrote about our journey to parenthood, but then I thought would this freak them out? Would they assume I would just have another stillbirth? I know there was nothing I could have done to change the outcome, but would they get it?

I wrote about your dad and myself. I wrote about our careers and hopes and dreams. Then, I wrote a letter to future children, where I poured my heart out.  None of it seemed right. 

I’m at a loss. How do I tell someone, “Hey those embryos you have stored in the freezer you plan on never using, I want them. Gimme.” ? I am not sure where to start, but in the end I want a baby to take home. Your dad and I would be really good parents, and hope against all odds that we get to accomplish that. 

Love you always,

Mom

To the family member who thinks everything revolves around her

This is a blog entry for you.  And yes, this is all about you.

There is no way you could possibly understand how I feel, but I will try my best to help you be a bit more compassionate. 

Imagine one of your children or your unborn grandchild dead.  Did your mind automatically switch to "I can't possibly think of something so awful" or did you feel like you were going to throw up?  Imagine all of the what ifs you would have?  Would it be anything you could get over or past?  Now imagine what it would feel like to watch one of your children try and try and try to have a child after the first one died.  Imagine what it would feel like to have miscarriage after miscarriage and spend thousands trying to have a baby.  Just imagine for a moment, how it must feel to be me.  Or even my mom.  Could you do it?  Could you let your mind go there? 

I'm guessing you didn't.  I'm guessing you couldn't let yourself do it.  And I'm guessing if you ever read this, you’ll feel like the victim in a cruel joke.  But the truth is, in this story, you're an antagonist.  You are an "other."  There is no way you could fully understand what life is like without one of your children, and you think we should forget about our babies and just be fine with it.  Your attitude is one of the many scars us warrior mamas wear, and we refuse to do as you wish.

True story.  Not everything about you.

Our love for our children isn't about you.

The hurt we feel because a living child you raised was ignorant isn't your hurt. It is hurt you helped inflict because you feel no compassion towards anyone else.

You aren't the victim.  You're the villain.

It’s been over a year

Dear Genevieve, 

The last year and a half has been very turbulent. We faced multiple failed IVF cycles, and I even went through medically induced menopause. It was not fun by any means. 

All of the heartbreak and disappointment has opened our hearts to embryo adoption.  Couples who have embryos they will not use can be donated to couples like us.  I found out a couple of days ago we have a potential embryo and there may be a second one. I’m really excited about it and I’m so hopeful this will work out.  I am going to write a letter to the genetic parents to let them know. Our story and how much love we have to give our future baby. 

The past 5 years, I’ve struggled with depression big time. However, I have decided year 33 is going to be the best year, and I’m trying my darnest to make it happen.  Your dad and I have been noticing all the little signs you’ve sent us. We miss you and love you so much. 

Love always,

Mom

So you're pregnant and you want me to know, but you're also afraid of hurting me

I want to start with how sweet of you to care so much about my feelings and understand I have not gone down an easy road with having a stillborn, secondary infertility, and two failed IVF attempts.  And trust me when I say, I get why it might be awkward to tell me your good news when I have had such crappy news of my own. But there are good ways to tell me and ways that are just hurtful.

Finding out on social media is the worst.  That one hurts.  A lot.  Mostly because it comes out of nowhere for me.  It feels like I am walking down the street and someone comes up and sucker punches me in the gut.   It is not as bad as it was before and now I can "unfollow" and go about my day.  I get it, not everyone in the world is going to come to me and tell me they are pregnant, but if you want to hurt someone whose gone through what I have, that is definitely the way to do it.

 Honestly, finding out from anyone other than the person who is pregnant is really hurtful.  I have a couple of cousins who became pregnant and both had their moms tell my mom, who told my husband to tell me.  Now let me explain to you why this method is not okay.  First and foremost, I am not a child.  I am not going to break because someone else is pregnant.  Will I feel bad for myself?  Absolutely.  But I am capable of feeling more than one emotion at a time.  It is possible to feel happy for someone else and still bummed about my situation.  Telling my mother to tell me is incredibly inappropriate and quite frankly, cowardly.  If you care enough about my feelings and respect what I have gone through, respect me enough to tell me yourself.

One of my very good friends is having her third rainbow.  I didn't find out until halfway through her pregnancy because she was terrified to tell me.  She didn't want to make me feel worse than I already was because I was going through the failed IVF cycles, but she did tell me.  I was sad she didn't tell me right way, but I get it.  She really, really cared about me and knew I was hurting.  The difference between how I found out about my cousins and how I found out about her was that she did tell me herself.  Yes, it was later, and I so appreciate the courage she had to tell me.  It showed me how much she did care.

The best way to tell me you're pregnant is through a text or an instant message.  It allows me to react however I am going to without an audience and I will respond when I am ready.  It might not be right away, but I will most likely respond at some point.  Maybe.  I will respect you significantly more than if you choose a different way.  Other loss parents, people dealing with infertility, or what-have-you may prefer a different method, but I have found messaging me directly is the best way to tell me.  It says, "I love you, I don't want to hurt you, I respect what you've been through, and I want you to know my good news." 

The thing you're not told about IVF

My second round of stim medication was much more successful than the first.  The first only gave me 2 eggs, one did not fertilize, and the other one did and then stopped.  This time I produced 6 eggs, 3 of them fertilized right away, and 2 hadn't at the time but I shouldn't count them out.

Last time, I did 29 injections and my doctor thought maybe it overloaded my body and I wasn't able to produce very much.  This time I took an oral medication for 6 days with an injection in the evenings.  Once I stopped the oral meds, I had one injection in the morning and one in the evening.  Last time, I didn't have bruises.  This time my stomach looked like this:

But you know what, if it gets me my take home baby, I'll take it. And it definitely gave me better results.  Look how happy I am when I found out they retrieved six eggs:

I'm wearing that oxygen mask because apparently when I am put under to do the procedure, I stop breathing.  I get assisted breathing and I am the only person in the whole office that gets this special treatment (because I am the only one in the whole office who needs the special treatment).

What I was not told was how much you crash when they take out your eggs.  Last time, it was the end of the school year so I was busy with that and most teachers are "over it" by that time anyway.  Plus, the hormone protocol I was given, obviously wasn't very good as I didn't react to it.  This time, the crash has been awful.  I get it, I produced all these hormones and then the things with the hormones come out and now it's like my body is falling off a cliff while trying to develop wings to fly.  Think postpartum.  Think menopausal.  Think Hell.  Cause that is what it is.  I definitely don't feel like myself.  Then I get upset that I don't feel like myself, which causes me to be upset that I am upset, and so on and so forth. Then logic tries to step in and tell me everything is going to be alright and it's just the lack of hormones and I am like "Shut up logic, you know nothing! NOTHING!!! It is clearly the end of the world."

And I get to experience this until my cycle starts over (please be soon, please be soon).  So I am excited about the 3 embryos and possible 2 more, I am ready for it to be Saturday around lunch time to see how they did, I have no hormones (I mean I do, but I'm not feeling them), and I am currently hiding in the nursery because even the cats are annoying me.

Again, if this brings me my take home baby, it will all be worth it.

Twas the Night Before Injection One

Dear Eve Believe,

Today I went to do my baseline ultrasound and blood work.  This will give the doctor something to compare my other blood work to as this process continues.  I know I have snapped this picture before, but it reminds me of you.  And... I am attempting to be optimistic.

Here's a picture of me waiting to get the exam... because... yay, this is finally happening?

Everything looks good so I have the go ahead to start injections tomorrow.  In the morning, I will be mixing and injecting Menopur and in the evening I will be injecting Gonal F.  I've reviewed, in my head, multiple times how to mix the Menopur and I hoping it will go smoothly.

I've also read tons of blogs about tips and tricks about Menopur because I've read it burns.  The game plan is to mix the Menopur when I get up and let it sit for 10 or so minutes before injecting it.  I also am going to use a half cc instead of one full one since the nurse said that was fine and I read the medicine stings less that way.

In the evening, I will be giving myself Gonal F, which I've read is very easy and the side effects are not that bad.  I plan to have that out for about 10 minutes too, since it is currently in the fridge, before administering it.

I am not nervous about giving myself shots, but that may change tomorrow when I have to actually do it.  I am more eager to get this show on the road.  I have everything set up in the nursery for tomorrow.

Don't mind the back yard!

I have my tackle box on an end table so I can easily mix, and the comfy chair I planned to rock you in (but will now be sitting in to stab myself in the stomach with needles), my calendar so I can cross off the injection I took, and my believe sign with Alice in Wonderland figurines by it.  Here is a close up:

Your Grandpa sent me those for Mother's Day.  This is my favorite part of the room because it makes me feel like you are close by and rooting me on.

I also finished coloring my calendar for this month and wanted to take a picture of it because it reminded me of my goal: to bring home a rainbow.

However, as I was taking pictures, somebody insisted that the calendar was on the floor for him to sit on... because of course it was.

WhiteWalker says this is how he cheers me on

I miss you and love you always.

Mom

IVF Prep

The hubster and I are embarking on our next journey to bring home a rainbow baby.  IVF.  We went to our final consultation where our heads exploded with new information.  Not really, but we did learn about the medication I will be injecting into myself and how to do it.  That's right, me.  As much as I love my husband, he is not giving me injections.  All of the shots are subcutaneous like the one I did for the IUI.  I was nervous more would be intramuscular because those stink, but those come later (dang-it).

I was given my protocol and did some research and here are some things I have learned:

• My entire process will take around 3 cycles.  The one I learned about was the follicle stimulation.
• I have high dosages of medication- 150 units of Menopur and 300 units of Gonal F- compared to the people I've seen on the videos.  I'm guessing because my AMH number is so low (0.5, when it should be 3.1).
• I get the honor of injecting myself twice a day.  The morning will be the 150 units of Menopur and in the evening the 300 units of Gonal F.
• At some point, I will be doing two shots in the morning the Menopur and then adding in Cetrotide so I don't actually ovulate the eggs I am growing.
• I will be giving myself 2-3 shots for around 10 days.
• I will bloat and look pregnant- how exciting 😐
• The egg retrieval process sounds terrible and I am glad I will be knocked out for it.
• I need to get organized.
• I have a lot of shopping to do! 😃
• I am so glad I have some pudge on my tummy so I have something to grab and stick the needle into and it should hurt less.  Score 1 for stomach flub! 

I've already had adventures with this whole thing.  I set up everything with the medication and told the pharmacy to ship it to my school to ensure I got the medication and it was not sitting outside the house.  However, I received a message during the school day saying it was not being shipped to the school, but instead my house by 10:30 p.m.  The hubster heads home to work from there in the case the medication came before I was able to get home. Then, I was called to tell me the medication missed its flight and will be dropped off at 1:00 a.m.  😐 Seriously? Hubby slept on the couch since he could sleep in and I couldn't and he didn't want me woken up.  Yeah, the UPS Critical Express guy called my phone twice, which is connected to my Fitbit so my wrist buzzed.  I wasn't sleeping through that.  The next morning, I was exhausted but survived teaching my third graders.  

On a lighter note, I also did a lot of shopping to help prepare!  Yay!  After reading several blogs, I ordered a variety of things from Amazon (who does not love Amazon?!) and went shopping at Ross.

First, I ordered a pink and purple tackle box to help organize my medicine, syringes, needles, gauze, alcohol pads, band-aids, etc. Otherwise, doing medicine each morning will be a hot mess.

Look how organized I am!  This isn't even all of the medication I have for the Stims cycle. I have also taken over one of the vegetable crispers to store my medication. 😆

Another suggestion I read from a blog was to get fun band-aids.  I agreed with that blogger, if I am going to poke my self multiple times a day, I might as well find fun band-aids to amuse myself.  I asked several colleagues if they had any fun character circle band-aids from the packages brought in at the beginning of the year since those aren't usually used.  With the stash my friends gave me, and the ones I ordered online, I am good to go with band-aids!

I am loving my childhood throwback band-aids.  Not only will I get a kick out of looking at them, they will tell me where NOT to inject myself again.  😊

I also read that it is helpful to get an IVF bag.  This would be the bag I bring to all of my appointments and there will be many.  I had a hard time choosing a bag and then one of my sweet coworkers gave me the Thirty-One bag she got from the Free Teacher Store.  It has so many compartments and is perfect!

How sweet is my coworker for giving me this bag for IVF?! 

I've already filled it with my IVF paperwork, a calendar, a pair of socks (in case a wear flip flop and I want to put them on before putting my feet in the stirrups), a copy of Alice in Wonderland (that was going to be Genevieve's nursery theme), and a pen.

You cant see what type of socks I have, but I can assure you they have cats on them! 😺

Now the hubster and I have to clean the nursery since that is where I want to do the injections.  It is a cat free zone.  Right now it looks like a dumpster fire.

I am hoping I'll stay excited to do the injections in this room in the hopes I will get to bring home a baby to actually live in it.

Before judging me too harshly on how the nursery looks, it used to look worse. I had a grand vision for this Alice in Wonderland room.  I didn't want it to be in your face Alice in Wonderland, but I wanted the room to be whimsical.  The hubby and I happened to have a painting of a garden tea party we bought on our honeymoon that we would hang on the wall.  I was going to create a couple of light fixtures out of teacups I found in a box at my grandmother's house after she died.  I was given a bunny (March Hare) that played music to put on the crib.  I had my Pink Baby and White Baby from my childhood who I was going to put on a shelf to represent the Tweedles.  I was going to make this cross stitch of a little girl with her cat (who looked my cat, Toby) since Alice had a cat in the movie.  It was going to be subtle and vintage and wonderful.

When Genevieve died, my mom and husband came to the house a moved all of the baby things all over the house into the nursery and closed the door.  After Rainne, we decided to do a neutral room.  My dad put up the wainscoting and we painted over the pink.  Not all of it, if you remove the boards you will see the pink.  It's like Genevieve, still there, you just can't see it.

Anyway, the nursery became this storage room for all of the things we didn't want the cats to touch.  If we didn't want to deal with something, it went into that room.  Before we painted the room, we put away all of the baby things, and those are currently stored in closet waiting to be used.  Now we are going through the rest of the stuff in there.  We are either finding new homes for it or throwing it away.

It makes sense to do the shots in there. I can be away from "helpful" kitties and hopefully be encourage to keep going so I can eventually bring home my rainbow baby to that room.

Now it is ready for me to set up my shot station!😍

Two to One

Dear Genevieve,

The past few years without you have been tough.  Tough is an understatement.  At times, life has been completely unbearable and at other times its been just plain hard. There aren't words to explain how difficult it has been, even three years later, or how much it still hurts or how daunting it is to think about how my life continues to move forward and you aren't moving forward with me.  And there are no magic words to make it better or right or anything.  It just hurts.  There is a huge, gaping hole and even though three years have past since I last held you, it hasn't gotten easier.  It still hurts just as much as when I was told there was no heartbeat.

Dealing with two early losses after having you, is incredibly maddening.  So much has been taken from me, and as other people who have walked this journey have received a rainbow, I am still here. Stuck.  Baby-less.  Out of all of the people who I met when I first lost you, your dad and I are still the only ones without our rainbow.  It's so lonely.  Growing up, we tell kids they are special.  Well, you know what? I am tired of being so damn special.  I don't know anyone who has been through what we've been through and I am sick of going through it.  I am exhausted of constantly fighting.  And I don't want to be the strongest person I know any more.  Someone else can do it.

It has been hard enough to yearn to hold you, but for us to deal with secondary infertility on top of it feels like the universe is kicking us in the stomach when we've already been knocked out.  It constantly feels like I am taking 2 steps forward and 1 step back.  I get pregnant, but it's a blighted ovum.  I get pregnant again, and the baby never develops a heart beat.  I've lost weight, I've changed my diet, I exercise quite a bit, I see a reproductive endocrinologist, and yet I still have no rainbow and the aspect of having one seems to be ever-escaping.

Here's a perfect example of it: I was cleared by the rheumatologist I was seeing to do IVF.  My blood work came back border line and I may develop lupus at some point, but not today and so I am healthy enough to do IVF.  Yay!  I also had my DHEAS blood work done and my numbers were under 200 at 131 so now I can set up the final IVF consult.  Yay!  I asked the doctor to run my AMH level again.  This is the one that showed I had the ovarian reserve of a 37 year old because my number was 1.59 instead of 3.1.  This time my number was 0.5.  It dropped dramatically over the course of a few months.  Two steps forward, one step back.

I am guessing stress has something to do with it.  Doesn't it always?  I've been very stressed about this testing season.  I haven't been sleeping as much and feeling very irritable, which is precisely why I did not want to teach a testing grade.  I said as much too, but my health, well being, or the fact I've been trying to get pregnant did not matter much to the administration.  What mattered is that it's easier to find a first grade teacher than a third grade one so I was moved. It hurts my heart to think about it.

I am not sure what else I can do.  I am starting to lose hope.

I love you and miss you.

Love,
Mom

Dumpster Fire

Okay.  So... I have a ton of thoughts whirling around in my head and I am not sure what order they will come out , but here it goes.

I feel stuck.  And left behind.  I'm the only one from the local support group who does not having a living child.  And with the loss group online, people are having multiple rainbows, and I am just sitting here like "Yep, my body hates me."  And even as I type that, I feel like I am just feeling sorry for myself, and maybe I am.  Pity Party.  Party of one, right here. 🙋

I just don't understand why things have to be sooo difficult.  I'd go for just difficult or even so difficult right now.  Ugh.😭

So back to feeling stuck.  I haven't meant another person whose had a loss and then went through secondary infertility like I have.  I mean, I'm sure there are other MEs out there, I just haven't met them.  Or know of them.  And anyway, why do I have to be so damn special?!

Like how I still haven't explained why I feel stuck?  It's because of all these stupid steps I have to take between here and getting what I want (which, if you don't know is to have a baby I get to take home and care for).  When I went to the fertility doctor on Valentine's Day, I thought we would talk IVF, and we did a little, but it was not what I expected.

Apparently, both men and women produce testosterone.  My limits are normal, but not for someone trying to get and maintain a pregnancy.  The doctor said it COULD be the reason for the early losses because it could cause me to have abnormal eggs and that would cause early losses, but like most things in the medical field, it wasn't definitive.  He put me on a low dose steroid and said to test my blood again in 3 weeks to see if my levels went down.  No idea what happens after that, but I can't set up my final IVF appointment until the levels are down.

I also found out that I have the same amount of eggs in my ovarian reserve as a 37 year old.  Which might be nice if I was 37, or you know 40.  But I'm not, I just turned 31.  What is worse is hearing the numbers.  At 31, I my number should be 3.1, but my number is 1.59, so about half of what it should be.  Thanks ovaries!  I told the doctor that fraternal twins run in my family (my mom is a twin, my grandma was a twin, my great-grandma was a twin, my second cousin on my mom's side had two sets of twins).  I asked if it could be because I have been ovulating two eggs instead of one with a family history like mine.  He said no, but that it was fascinating. 😒

The last piece of "wonderful" news I learned was that my ANA test came back positive.  The ANA test is the one that tells you whether or not you have an autoimmune disease or not.  I've had this test come back positive 3 times in the past 10 years.  The first being my freshman year of college.  I doctor told me I might have lupus and he would test for that.  When I told my mom, she said I didn't want lupus because I could die.  That was fun.  I didn't have lupus and my ANA test came back negative.

The second time I tested positive for ANA was when I first moved to Florida 4 years ago.  The doctor thought I had AIH (Autoimmune Hepatitis) because of my elevated liver enzymes.  I went to a Hepatologist, had tons of blood taken, and did a liver biopsy.  The specialist was very interested in my case because of how rare AIH was.  I was told I would have this disease forever and hopefully it'll go into remission because if not, I may need a liver transplant or could die.  Then I tested negative for the ANA.  The Hepatologist said I probably had fatty liver disease and told me to lose weight.  Then, didn't want me to come in anymore.

That makes this, the third time I tested positive for ANA.  I see a Rheumatologist on the Wednesday and will talk about next steps.  I have no idea what to expect, and I can't schedule my final IVF consultation until it is all figured out.  So. Stuck.

So on top of all of that, there are a ton of pregnant ladies and babies out there.  Even on TV, people talk about how it was so easy for them to get pregnant.  Dammit, I want it to be easy for me too.  For real, I promise I'll be a good mom to a baby on Earth.  

The other thing that has been irking me lately, is the talk like I am not a mom.  I am.  I still am a mom, even if my baby died.  I hear complaints about lack of sleep and not being able to do things because of kids.  Yes.  It must be very difficult to have a healthy, happy, ALIVE child.  That is just so terrible for you.  😐

Or the other thing, is when people say they are sharing baby news "for a friend."  No.  Just don't.  I don't think I have enough expletives to explain why not, but seriously don't do it.  To put it nicely, I will think you're an asshole.  Yes, that is the nice version.  And if you don't care what I think, then why are you reading my blog?  So there.  Hmmph *crosses arms in triumph* 

So I titled this Dumpster Fire because that is what my life feels like right now.  Oh lordy, I hope it gets better.

Free IVF

Dear Genevieve,

Earlier in the month, my friend texts me and says I HAVE turn on 106.7 XL because they were giving away free IVF.  Because IVF is extremely expensive, the radio giving it to someone is pretty amazing.  I just needed to write a 500 word or less essay, which is challenging because so much has happened in four years.  I did my best to explain it and here is what I wrote:

I didn’t originally have infertility.  I easily became pregnant with my daughter, Genevieve, within four months of trying.  My husband, Jake, and I were ecstatic and so thankful for this little miracle.  Over Thanksgiving, we drove up to Illinois to attend our baby shower.  Our families were so excited for us, and we were ready to take home our little girl.  On December 1, 2014, when I was 34 weeks pregnant, I heard those words no mother wants to hear, “There is no heartbeat.” Somehow, I drove to the closest hospital, spent two days in labor, and gave birth to my stillborn daughter on December 3, 2014.  Her name: Genevieve Pearl. 

But this story isn’t about her, it is about what came after.

I have secondary infertility.  Even worse, the doctors are unsure why I am having such a difficult time getting pregnant.  In September of 2015, after months of trying, I went to my OB/GYN who suggested I get a hysterosalpingogram (HSG) to make sure my tubes were open.  I was even told that many women get pregnant shortly after they receive one.  My tubes were clear, but I still didn’t get pregnant.  I went to see a reproductive endocrinologist (RE) who thought that I had endometriosis and scheduled me for an ultrasound to see if there was fluid around my uterus.  There was, so the next step was surgery.

Instead of calling the office on cycle day one, I called to tell them I was pregnant!  However, I had a blighted ovum so there was a gestational sac with no baby.  I miscarried at 6 weeks in May 2016.  It took me 15 months to get to this point, and like that, I was back where I started.  I already lost one baby, this made me 0-2.

In the fall of 2016, I did go through with the surgery.  My RE was able to clear out all of the endometriosis, and I was told I should easily become pregnant.  After three months of trying, my RE suggested I come in and discuss Intrauterine Insemination (IUI).  He said if I didn’t get pregnant after two rounds, I should schedule another HSG.  I did one IUI in the spring, and the second in the fall.  Still no positive pregnancy test, so I had the HSG. 

This time, I was one of the lucky ones who became pregnant after the procedure.  I went to my first appointment the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and was told I would most likely miscarry.  I was pregnant for 8 weeks, was told the baby stopped growing, and had a D&C—making me 0-3.

Normally, people with secondary infertility have one living child.  Unfortunately, we do not.  When your first child is stillborn, it shouldn’t be so difficult to get pregnant.  I want to be able to bring a baby home and I feel like IVF is my best option.

Then I put a link to this blog.  Even if I don't win, maybe someone whose been through something similar will read this and feel comforted.  Maybe it will raise awareness of the frequency of stillbirth.  Maybe what I have gone through will affect someone else's life in a positive way. Just maybe.  Hopefully.

I love you now and always.

Mom

Baby3

I miscarried baby 3.

That leaves me at 0-3 when it comes to pregnancies.

Sometimes I think God is a jerk.

I went to the appointment on December 11th hoping to see that pitter-patter on the screen of my baby's heartbeat.  I was hoping to see arms and legs and a head.  I was hoping to see a little peanut-shaped baby.  When he did the ultrasound, I swear I saw something.  It must have been gas or my insides moving because it wasn't a heartbeat.  There were no arms or legs or a peanut body.  The baby looked exactly as it had the week prior. 

The doctor said the baby stopped growing and it was incompatible with life.  I looked at the doctor and said, "I want to skip to IVF."  With IVF, the embryos can be tested and the best ones can be implanted.  I know PAL will be difficult, but it will give me some piece of mind knowing that genetically and chromosomally the baby is normal.  He agreed, which is good because I can't keep living like this.  It takes a long time for me to get pregnant and then I loose it.

Sometimes I think God is a jerk.

The doctor told me that I could either get a D&C within the next couple of days or wait several weeks and miscarry on my own.  I said to sign me up for the first one.  Here's why- if I were to wait several weeks, I would start to hope.  I would hope the doctor was wrong.  I would hope everything would be okay.  I would hope for a baby that is not going to miraculously start growing.  Then, when I did miscarry, because I would, I would be devastated AGAIN.  I am so thankful that the doctor gave me a choice.

I opted to get genetic testing to determine why I miscarried.  I also asked if I would be able to find out the gender.  I was told I would.  I put off giving the baby a name until I found out the gender.  I also had to get blood work done in a week to make sure my HCG (the pregnancy hormone) was back to zero.

I got my blood work done a week later.  It went down to 500 (from around 8,000) so I had to go back in another week.  The next week my number was 55, which is closer, but still not zero.  If it went from 8,000 to 500 in one week, wouldn't it be 0 by two weeks?  I guess not.  I have to go again on Tuesday.

I also received my results from the genetic testing.  There was an insufficient amount of tissue so the tests were inconclusive.  So they can only speculate as to why I miscarried.

Sometimes I think God is a jerk.

I really wanted to know the gender more than anything. I thought for sure a boy, but I wanted to be positive.  I wanted to know something about this little bean.  I barely had any time with him.  It seems like nothing is going my way.  Hubby says we can pick out a unisex name, but I didn't want to pick out a unisex name.  I wanted to know the gender.

Sometimes I think God is a jerk.

Since this is not my first rodeo (oh baby loss? yeah been there, done that 3 TIMES), I had enough with-it-ness to ask for a picture of my little bean.  The baby is the part with the line across it.  The larger circle is the yolk sac and the largest circle was the gestational sac.

I do not regret sharing this baby with everyone.  He may have been here for a little bit of time, but he was celebrated.  He was cherished.  He was loved.

PAL Anxiety

My second ultrasound is today and I’m sitting here as huge bundle of nerves. I woke up at 4 am feeling nauseous, which I’m sure is a mixture of morning sickness and anxiety. It’s normal for someone to feel the way I’m feeling with any pregnancy, let alone the pregnancy after a loss. I’m 0-2 and I wonder if today I become 0-3. 

After EVERYTHING I was told at my last appointment, almost 2 weeks ago, I’m hoping and praying that everything will be alright. I’m hoping the sac is regular, there’s a baby there, his heart is beating, and they can tell me something about this subchronic hemorrhage (SCH). However, I’m also wearing really comfortable clothes in the case I am sent to the hospital for a D&C. Why? Because of well, loss. It’s happened twice before. 

What I think really stinks is that I know this anxiety doesn’t get better. It’s a wonder anyone gets through PAL (pregnancy after loss) at all. I know I can survive this because several women before me already have and shared some words of wisdom along the way. 

Tragedy isn't the only outcome. - This one is my favorite because it acknowledges the past with gently reminding me that it isn’t the only ending. 

Different pregnancy, different ending. - My doppelgänger tells me this when I freak out. It reminds me that history doesn’t always repeat itself. 

Today I am pregnant. - This mantra reminds me to focus on the here and now. 

Take it one day at a time.- I really used this right after the loss of Genevieve. Think of my entire future without her in it made me want to throw up. I am attempting to take it one day at a time with this pregnancy. 

I’m so ready to be done with this appointment. 

Learning Experiences

Three years ago today, I learned the most devastating news any pregnant person could possibly hear.  Genevieve no longer had a heartbeat.  It's been three years and I am still unsure how that happened or how my heart could just go on beating when hers didn't. Or even how things like this happen. It wasn't like I did anything wrong.  I didn't smoke or drink or do drugs or even eat foods on those "naughty" lists, but still this awful event happened to me.  In fact, it happens to 1 out of every 160 pregnancies.  It seems like not a lot, but when it it happens to you, it is everything.

I've learned so much about people these past 3 years, for example, people say stupid things when they are uncomfortable, and dead babies make people uncomfortable. 

"Things happen for a reason."  No one whose lost a child believes this malarkey, and the person who says it sounds like an asshole.

"God has a plan."  Please tell me how this helps with the loss of a child?  This doesn't make me feel better because what kind of good plan involves dead babies?

"You'll be able to have more kids." Really?  Is that a guarantee? And even if I am able to have another baby, it still does not make up for the baby that I had to give back.

"Do you think it is healthy to have a picture of your daughter on your phone."  Yes.  Asshole.  It is.  Is it healthy for you to have pictures of your dead family members?  I'm really sorry that my only pictures of her are after she died and it makes YOU uncomfortable.  You couldn't possibly understand how much I wish I had some of her alive, besides the sonograms.

"I can't imagine."  Yes you can, you don't want to.  I get it.  Dead children are hard.  Unfortunately, I don't get the luxury of not having to imagine it.  I live it.

However, I have also learned that people can be genuinely caring and root for you to succeed, and I am not as isolated as I once felt.  There has been so many loving people who've come out of the woodwork to cheer me on throughout this journey.  I've had some great friends listen to me ramble on about Genevieve, ask me to see her picture,  not shun me when I shared my pregnancy stories, and still view me as a mom even though my baby isn't in my arms.  I've met some of the best people through this experience.

I have my doppelganger who is one of my biggest cheerleaders.  I still cannot believe our babies died and were born on the same day.  I mean, what are the odds?  I know Charlie and Genevieve made our friendship possible and knew we had to meet.  I cheered her on during her rainbow twin pregnancy, and she has cheered me on through every step of my infertility after loss journey.  I could not have asked for a better doppelganger.

Red, my loud-mouthed, obnoxious, most caring and wonderful friend and coworker, has been amazing.  She's been there to hear me cry because the grief is so unbearable.   Or listen to my awkward jokes with a empathetic ear because humor is how I deal with things, and talk to me about the prospect of adoption.  I'm so glad she is in my life.

My friend, the self-proclaimed nerd, has been a huge help this past year as I re-navigate the third grade.  She never makes me feel weird for wanting to talk about my little girl or when I tell her the little signs Genevieve shows me.  I'm appreciative of her telling me "things happen for a reason" does not apply to this.  It will never apply to this.  I love my teammate, the self-proclaimed nerd. ❤

The stay-at-home mom let me hold her baby for hours when I came over to see her for the first time.  That was the first baby I held after holding Genevieve.  The time I spent holding her baby reminded me that I still have mama instincts, which was so meaningful for me.  I so appreciate when she checks in with me and talks me down from the edge.  Once in a wave of grief, I told her I bet people would be happy once I got pregnant again because I'm sure they want me "to get over" Genevieve.  She told me everyone will always remember Genevieve.  She said this journey I am on is like a marathon, and everyone wants to see me get to the next water station.  It is something that I think about when I feeling down, and I always can rely on her for words of wisdom.

My old team knew a lot about the struggle of infertility and have been rooting for me since I started teaching at my current school.  When I miscarried with Raine and stayed home for a week, they were there to lean on.  When I went in to the fertility doctor, or had a procedure, or had a failed IUI cycle, they were there to listen.  They were there with their own stories and words of hope.

Yesterday, my new team did something that touched my heart.  They gave me a card telling me they will be thinking of the hubs and I over this weekend because they knew it would be a hard one.  Most people shy away from the topic of dead babies, but they embraced that this is something I have been through, and let me know I can lean on them.  A card may not seem like a big deal, but it meant the world to me.

The women of the third trimester loss community have been my life raft.  Stillbirth is a unique loss since you are forced to give birth to death, and you constantly grieve the future, without having much of a past to remember fondly.  Their eloquence with words has been a godsend to me.  They get it.  Every. Single. Time.  Anytime I get a sign, anytime I want to cry or scream, or curse the world.  They get it.  When it seemed everyone was having their rainbows, except me, they screamed and cursed the world with me.  Every. Single. Time.  I may never have met them in person, but I love and appreciate each and every one of them.

And with that, I have news.  I'm pregnant. 

The hubs had stayed home on November 15.  Just because.  I had asked him to get a pregnancy test, but wasn't sure I wanted to take it.  He encouraged me to take it, and I was angry when two lines didn't show up immediately.  Of course I wasn't pregnant.  Things like that don't work out for me.  So I went in and pouted in the bedroom.  Yes, sometimes I act like the third graders I teach. Anyway, I digress.  I knew something amazing was about to happen when he came into the room with a big smile on his face.  This was it.  This was what I was hoping and praying for for years.

I was on cloud nine.  I was like a giddy school girl.  I was incredibly humble and grateful for this gift.  I started making phone calls at once.  High risk doctor. Check. Fertility doctor. Check. Endocrinologist. Check. OBGYN. Check.  I set up blood work for the next day, and an ultrasound for the next week.  Later that day, I received the results of the HCG in my blood.  82.9.  Officially pregnant.  I had to go back in two days and get my blood retaken to make sure the numbers were going up sufficiently.

The hubs was nervous on Saturday.  I wasn't  I knew it would be okay.  I am not sure how, when it seemed like nothing was okay the past three years, but I felt like the numbers would be where they were supposed to be.  I was right.  They grew to 250.9.  The nurse scheduled me to see the fertility doctor to do an ultrasound on December 4th.  I was ecstatic.  All I needed was to go to my ultrasound with the high risk doctor on Wednesday to see the babe, and I would be good to go.

Wednesday comes, but it was not the appointment I had anticipated.  We saw the gestational sac and nothing else.  I didn't understand.  My numbers grew.  I was nauseous.  I was having all sorts of pregnancy symptoms.  The high risk doctor told me she thought I was having a blighted ovum.  She thought a baby would never form.  She told me I would miscarry over the Thanksgiving holiday so she called my OBGYN to make sure he was available to do an D&C.  She gave me this kit and told me when I miscarried to take the tissue out of my underwear or fish it out of the toilet and put it in the CSI kit.  She wanted to test to see if the tissue had chromosomal abnormalities.  She thought the gestational sac that was there was irregular and said I had internal bleeding.  She did want me to get more blood work and would call me the Friday after Thanksgiving to give me my results.  She said she wanted me to return in another week.

Friday came with no phone call.  I felt so betrayed.  How do you tell someone with MY history all the things she said, tell me you would call me about blood results, and the NOT call?! I was a wreck, wondering what my numbers were, but also terrified to know the truth.  So I called the lab where my blood was collected.  They sent me an encrypted email.  I shook as I opened it.  1141.  Right where they should be.

On Monday, I called the office and gave them an earful.  I cancelled my appointment.  There was no way I was going to hear something terrible the day before the anniversary of my daughter's death.  I figured I would see the fertility doctor on Monday, and if there was something wrong, there is nothing I can do about it anyway and an earlier ultrasound would not change or fix anything. 

Later in the day, I hear from a nurse about my HCG number.  She said they want to run another test, and since the lab closes at 3:30, I rushed over there as fast as I could.  The next morning I received the results right away.  7859! They are going up at an appropriate rate, which means it is doubtful there is a blighted ovum.  I was probably earlier than anticipated.

My next ultrasound is Monday, and everything could go to shit.  But today, the anniversary of the worst day of my life, I decide to share something positive.  I decided to share my pregnancy.  There will never be a "safe" time of this pregnancy.  Genevieve was 34 weeks when she died.  I waited the customary 13 weeks and she died anyway.

So here it is.  I am currently at my next water station.  I'm pregnant.  And I hope and pray this baby is healthy and I get to bring him home.

The test I took on the 11/15/2017.

The Trigger Shot

Dear Eve Believe,

Part of this IUI experience requires me to give myself a shot.  It may seem like no big deal, but with my history of needles, it was a big deal.  When I was younger, I was terrified of them.  Even the thought of getting a shot or having to get blood drawn would make me hyperventilate.  When I was really little, I would run away and hide.  The nurses would have to drag me out and then hold me down in order to get a shot.  Yeah. I was that kid.

 When I was in high school the National Honors Society was having a blood drive.  Everyone with a cabinet position was supposed to help run it, and I was the only one not to do it.  I would have rather gone to class all day then help with the blood drive.  In college, I would look in the other direction when they would have blood drives in the dorms.  I was usually on my way to get lunch and I would feel nauseous eating it.

Let's do this!

I always hoped I wouldn't be diabetic because I didn't know how anyone could poke themselves with  needles.  And as I found out yesterday, they do it pretty easily.  I was told the needle in the trigger shot is similar to the ones used when administering insulin.  I was told it was not going to hurt, but I think the anxiety of the idea of giving myself a shot mixed with the denial that I was as nervous as a I was, blew it up in my head.  So when I took a chunk of stomach one inch from my belly button and stuck myself, the thought that came up was, "Dude, that doesn't hurt at all." Yes.  I thought the word "Dude."

I pushed down the syringe and thought to myself that it wasn't that bad, and then it started to burn.  I started to feel a little dizzy and told myself I was going to finish this shot.  So I did.  I mean, I guess it is not that impressive being that I was by myself and there was no way your dad could help me since he was still at work.  But gosh darn it, I did it!  I am very proud of myself, if you can't tell.  :)

I don't think I am very good at it based on that red spot.

Now that the worse part (so far) is done, I go in for procedure this Sunday.  My anxiety and hopefulness is rolled together in a ball that is currently sitting in my stomach.  After the procedure, I have to wait the dreaded two weeks.  The best part (not) is that I will feel like I am pregnant for the next two weeks because of the lovely trigger shot.  I also can't test early because the trigger shot produces positive pregnancy tests.  I have to wait 14 days to test.

What day might you ask is 14 days from the day of the procedure?  Why, that would be Mother's Day.  Yes. That's right.  Mother's Day.  I found out the day before Mother's Day when I was pregnant with baby Raine.  I mean how wonderful would that be if it was positive on Mother's Day? Then again, how terrible would it be if it was negative on Mother's Day?  I mean the day already stinks because I don't get to spend it with you.  So I am torn about it all, and I am sure  I will take the entire 14 days to think about it and over analyze the entire thing, while feeling pregnancy symptoms the whole time.  Fun.  I need a glass of wine thinking about it.

I love you and think of you.  Always.

Love,

Mom

Sick

Dear Genevieve,

I am currently in bed.  I should be educating the youth of America, but instead I am curled up under my blanket with my tablet, wishing my head ache and stomach pain would go away.  I think it is safe to say that my body is not a fan of the letrozole the doctor put me on.  Stupid body.  You like what I tell you like (foot stomp) dammit!

For most of the past 24 hours I have been in the fetal position clenching my stomach.  I've taken this medication in the past, but this dose is doubled what I took before.  I guess one of the side effects is gas pain/bloating, the kind over the counter medication does not help with, the kind that leaves a 30 year old in the fetal position  hoping this dang iui works the first time because this stinks.  I tried everything too.  Yoga (that was painful), walking, drinking water, eating crackers, hot baths, over the counter medication, and the list goes on.  Sunday Fun Day I think not.

After that episode, I am left today with a pounding headache and gurgling tummy.   Today is my last dose of the medication, fingers cross it gets better and not worse!  Thank goodness I am going to acupuncture today.  My acupuncturist will fix me right up.  If you would have told me a few years ago I would be going to an acupuncturist, I would have laughed at you because me and needles do not mix.  Now, I can tell when I miss a week.  Still not a fan of needles, but giving birth to you gave me a whole new perspective.

Before my body decided to be mean to me, your daddy and I worked in the garden!  Before we were working with pallets, and now we have decided to work with cinder blocks.  It is still your Alice in Wonderland theme and each plot will have the color scheme of a character from the Disney cartoon.   We've been weeding and putting down mulch.  The wonders of read mulch... We have completed the Red Queen plot and put mulch all around the tree.  The next plot will be the Cheshire Cat.  I wish this was your nursery theme instead of the garden theme, and I am trying to appreciate the joy of using my creativity this way to honor you.  I hope you look on the garden with pride.  Except last summer, don't look on with pride then, it was a mess. And really now, you can look at the tree with pride, and the red queen plot with pride, and the trees behind it with pride.  The rest of it you may look on with dismay and say "hop to it, mommy."  But really you should probably not say that to me either because I am the mom and you're the baby.  Just know I love you and I am fixing the garden up to grow things in and hopefully your future siblings will appreciate it.

I think of you and love you always.

Love,
Mom

New Hope

Dear Infertility,

This is just a friendly letter to inform you that you suck.  Seriously.  You are a thief of hopes and dreams. You're all around terrible.  Just. So. You. Know.

I know what you do.  First, you search for people of good character who would be excellent parents.  Then, you sneak around when they do not suspect it and snatch their hope.  You hold it for ransom. Jerk.

Well, I've decided you are not allowed to take my hope.  I am keeping it.  I've gone too long and been through too much to let someone the likes of you get in my way.  I'm an angel mom, and there isn't anything harder than that.  Not. Even. You.

So I will go to my doctor's appointments, I will take that medication, and I will stick myself with needles.  And I will get to bring home my rainbow baby.  You watch me.  It's happening.

Sincerely,
HBIC


I feel so much better writing that.  I can hardly believe I am going through my first cycle of IUI.  I am nervous and excited.  I have a newfound hope.  I walked into the office and was very excited to see this sign that read "Believe in the Possibilities".  It reminded me of my Eve Believe.  It was as if she sent this sign just for me, just to put a smile on my face.  I love that little girl.

I have a feeling this process will be a whirlwind.  I just went to my first ultrasound appointment.  Apparently, I have a good looking uterus and ovaries.  Note to ovaries and uterus: stay that way.

Medication starts tomorrow evening and I am not looking forward to that.  I am hoping I do not have any side effects.  I am guessing since it will mess with my hormones that it will.  Side note: how does one get pregnant so easily the first time and then it becomes increasingly difficult?  I thought people are supposed to be the opposite...

My next appointment is the 28th.  I am hoping everything still looks perfect and I only have to go through this one time.  Fingers crossed.

It's been awhile

Dear Genevieve,

I haven't written to you in awhile.  That is not to say I don't think about you because I do that all the time.  I think about how you'd be walking and running.  I am sure you would be saying "mama" and "dada" among other things by now.  You'd be eating people food.  We'd work on potty training.  You would have had 3 Christmases and 2 Halloweens.  Your dad and I would begin thinking about pre-k in the next year or so.  You're always on my mind.

I have to say I am grateful that you do not have to grow up in a world where Donald Trump is president.  I am grateful I don't have to explain how someone so horrible and petty came to power over the free world.  I am grateful you do not have live in fear, like I do.

It has been a struggle.  I struggle to understand my role in this new world order, which I guess is not that new, but I am seeing the old world in a new way.  I am grateful you do not have to grow up in this world, and yet I still want to have a baby.  That is a huge internal battle for me.  I am not sure what I should do.

Part of me wants to crawl under a rock and hide until it is all over and the other part wants me to fight. I mean that sentence in different ways.  As far as society, part of me wants to pull the covers up and just focus on happy-go-lucky things and not pay attention to what is happening in this world.  The other part of me says, "You will absolutely do what is right.  You're students need you too.  Others need you too.  You're baby is watching you and you are going to make her proud."  In regards to trying to conceive, part of me says that I have to keep doing all the tests and actively trying.  The other part says, "OMG leave me alone!"

I think for some people one dilemma (if you would call it that) has clearer answers than the other.  I guess I feel like one decision would lead to another.  For example, if I am unhappy with the world, why bring a baby into it?  Or I could ignore what is happening around me and focus on getting pregnant.  That option would not go over well.  I am a rebel at heart and I can't sit back and pretend monstrosities are not happening around me.  Why can I have/do both the things I want?  Why does this all have to be so complicated?

I don't think there is a correct answer to this, or if there is, I haven't figure it out yet.

I love you and miss you always,

Mommy

Triggered

Dear Genevieve,

Your dad and I took a trip up north to go to your second cousin's wedding. The prospect of going on this trip triggered me big time. The last time we were up there was for your memorial and there were a lot of people we haven't seen since then. I continued to feel embarrassed by the fact my arms were bear and I wasn't pregnant, none of that being your fault by the way. I was worried our family and friends would look at me and assume there must be something wrong with me if I'm still without a baby. I sometimes wonder it myself. 

Before leaving, I had a hard time deciding if I was going to take the Eve Believe bear or not. I was worried it would get lost or that the TSA agents would ruin it because it weighed 6 lbs and 7 oz, just like you. I finally decided that I would leave the bear at home to stay on the safe side because I would be more upset if something happened to her than not having her for a few days. I did, however, bring the pink Alice in Wonderland blanket with your name. 

The trip wasn't as bad as anticipated, but I did have one bad experience.we planned on getting dinner with a couple of friends and their children. I figured I would be able to handle it. 

 There was a baby born a couple of months before you were. It was your daddy's friend's baby. When I saw her, I was curious. I wasn't sure what to accept of a child at that age since I haven't gotten to see you grow up. She was wearing a duplicate of an outfit that was given to you at the baby shower. The one for you is in a different size, but it was surreal to see a baby close to your age wearing an outfit that is in the nursery closet. 

It didn't bother me at first, but after holding her, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to hold you now. She was walking, would you be? She was eating all people food, what food would I be feeding you? She did not enjoy sitting in the high chair, would you have also disliked it, or would you have gone with the flow? It brought to mind all these questions that wouldn't be answered in this lifetime. It seemed so unfair that I didn't have you and I couldn't handle it. I started to tear up. I told myself to get a grip. That didn't work so I hid behind the menu hoping no one would notice the meltdown I was having in the restaurant. Your dad did, so I told him I needed some air. I quickly walked out and around the side of the building and ugly cried. I got a hold of my friend and she talked to me and understood how hard it was for me in that moment. Them your dad came out to see how I was doing and offered to get me some medicine to calm down. 

It took me awhile, but the clozapam started to kick in and I felt like I could return to the table. I was embarrassed even after my friend on the phone and your dad told me there was nothing to be embarrassed of, I hate crying in public. I hate crying. I always ugly cry and my face gets red and my eyes puffy and it looks that way for awhile. Luckily the restaurant was dark so it didn't look as bad. I made it through the rest of the meal and we went back to the hotel. 

Thank god for good friends, your dad, and clozapam. 

I love you and miss you. Always. 

Love, 

Mom

Stepping back

Dear Genevieve, 

I made the really hard decision to step back from the friendship I have with your godmother. Right now she is not a healthy person to be around and I'm so sorry I can't be her friend right now. It's one of those lessons you learn growing up and throughout your life, who you should be around and who you shouldn't. 

Your godmother married someone who was incapable of being a good companion. She knew this going into it and even questioned whether or not she should follow through with getting married. I told her if there was a question in her mind to not get married; however, she thought she would be embarrassed if she called it off so she didn't. Now she's unhappy most of the time. 

As much as I love your godmother, every bad situation she's been in is because she put herself there, and I can't stand by and watch it anymore. It wouldn't be good for me to continue to be friends with someone who hurts herself. I tried to encourage her to get help. I really did. But I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to, and so excuse after excuse was made and no steps of action were taken. 

Genevieve, had you lived, I would have taught you that it's strong to ask for help and how to get out of bad situations. I would have encouraged your independence and courage. I would have taught you that sometimes you have to step away from someone and I'd be here for you when you did. 

So I'm sorry that I have to step away from someone I'm sure you care about, but it is what is best for me at this time. 

I love you. Always. 

Love,

Mom