On Our Own

Finn is out on an excursion with Nanny M, Zachary is asleep in his swing, my latest version of crock-pot Mexican chicken is cooking (will blog about it when it's finally how I want it), Dave Matthews is playing, and I'm sitting alone in the living room, texting Jennie (she left yesterday).

It sounds lovely, and in some ways it is, but it's also reminding me even more of how little leave I have left.  My to-do list has become a list of things to do before going back to work, which is depressing.  I've also been hit with a mild case of postpartum blues.  I thought they might be coming, and was doing a pretty good job of ignoring them, but then being sad about Jennie leaving and the end of maternity leave has made it impossible to ignore.  It was actually much worse with Finn, but I think that's because I was alone more and because he cried half the night.  I may have even felt worse when I was weaning Finn, come to think of it...at any rate, I'm feeling a little bit blue, but I'm hopeful it will pass quickly.  If I can get myself moving more with walking and yoga, it should.  And maybe less sugar intake.  (Not quite ready to give up the sugar, though I did stop buying poptarts last week. Small victories.)

It's going to be a challenge, finding our new routine now that it's just me and the boys (well, and Nanny M, who is going to be coming half days for the rest of my leave). As I mentioned before, I could have managed without all the extra help, but I am so thankful I was able to enjoy the past few months some, instead of just survive.  It's only been the past few weeks that I'm feeling physically recovered from delivery; I can't imagine doing all this on my own while feeling so bad, especially with the added stress of settling into a new home.  And as an added bonus, Finn was able to bond with Heidi and Jennie, and now regularly includes them in conversation (along with several other friends who came for weekend visits recently) and will remember them for future visits. This makes me incredibly happy.

In other news, last week Zachary had another ultrasound to follow up on those calcified areas in the liver that we followed while I was pregnant.  They haven't changed since his ultrasound when he was born, but to be on the safe side he's still going to see a GI doctor. It's probably overkill, but I'm ok with an overabundance of caution.

This past week's pictures - still more sleeping, but at least the venue has changed for a few of them!

4/2/14: getting his ultrasound (this was before he woke up and realized what was going on)

4/3/14: a visit to the aquarium 

4/4/14: snuggle time with Aunt Jennie - note the bib and burp cloth. This kid is a champion spitter-upper

4/5/14: Tummy time with big brother

4/6/14: sleeping baby

4/7/14: two month check up - 15lb15oz and 24.5inches of chunky love

4/8/14: Mommy's two monsters

Support Systems

Budding photographer

We had a full house this weekend: Jennie is here still, and two of my single mom friends and their children came for the weekend.  We had a 3 week old, a 5 week old, a 15 month old and an almost 3 year old in the house and it was nonstop noise and craziness.  Despite the sleep deprivation, we had a great time.  It's the first time Finn has been the oldest in a small group of kids playing together, and it was fun seeing him in that role.  Little B, the 15 month old, followed him everywhere.  Half the time Finn found it maddening, and the other half he really enjoyed it. It was such a fun weekend!


The past few months I've been reminded over and over again of the importance of community and support.  I am so lucky to have wonderful friends, both local and far away, who have provided me with physical support with my move, unpacking, and then with helping me care for my newborn and toddler.  I could have done it all without them, but it would have been impossibly hard - I know most of the boxes would still be packed and I doubt I would have had a shower in a week if I were doing this all on my own.

Accepting help doesn't come easily to me.  But I've finally learned that as a single mom of two kids, I have to accept help, and even learn to ask for it when I need it.  The first night I was home from the hospital, my friend LB insisted on coming over and spending the night - she slept in my room and took Zachary every time he woke up.  She brought him to me when he needed to eat, changed his diaper when needed, and took him out of the room so I could sleep when he was fussy.  The only reason I agreed to it was because she wouldn't stop pestering me to let her come. And it was the best thing I could have done.  I was so worn out after my delivery and the extra help (and the extra sleep) was exactly what I needed.  And so when Heidi said she was going to do the same for the next few days, I didn't argue. And so that first week postpartum I was amazingly rested, and I really think it sped my recovery tremendously.

My advice to any new single moms is to take this sort of help if someone offers.  Even if it's just one night, having that extra help with a newborn can be a lifesaver.

But there's another support that's just as important, if not even more important: the emotional support of those who are in the same place - other moms who have dealt with the same problems, single moms who know what it's like to do this on your own, moms of children conceived with donor sperm, donor egg, and friends who have been there with you during your journey as you support each other.

The single moms who were here this weekend are part of a single moms group that first got together on a discussion board almost 3 years ago.  We've seen each other through some pretty difficult times and some wonderful times.  Much like the blogging community, but it's a different dynamic, as our conversations take place on discussion boards and FB, rather than in posts and comments.  But nothing compares to talking face to face - in the short time we were together we discussed parenting challenges, the daddy question (including how we're going to handle daddies in stories and movies, such as "Finding Nemo"...which should probably be a post of its own), post-delivery recovery, discipline, donors, and more.  Most of these were discussions we've had online, but so different in person, as it's just easier to talk about some things than to try to write them down.

If anyone out there is reading this while considering the SMC route, or struggling with trying to conceive, or struggling with the day to day realities of being an SMC and does not have the support of the blogging community or a local SMC group, I'd highly recommend looking for an online discussion group.  There's one on Fertile Thoughts as well as the Choice Mom and Single Mothers by Choice communities - they all have a different dynamic, and like all communities, it may take a while to make connections, but it's so worth the effort if you're feeling alone and need some help.  If anyone reading has any other online forums they'd recommend, please share!

Wallowing

Yesterday was a bad day.  It was made so much better by my friends, especially the friends who commented on my blog, sent messages or texts yesterday and today.  Thank you.

I talked to a dear friend (Kyrah) last night and - while I'm not happy about it - I've come to peace with the fact that there's going to be a delay.  Many of you suggested going up to the clinic today or Monday, but I know it wouldn't work.  If my cycle had started on any day but a Friday, I could have called the andrology lab coordinator and worked something out. She's the one who makes the rules, and no one can break them but her.  But at this point it's just too late. I don't want to start stims on CD4, and that's what would happen.  It just doesn't feel right.

Kyrah is a psychic.  Not the "let me tell you your fortune" kind, she does energy healing and spiritual counseling.  I worked with her before I got pregnant with Finn (and one day I'll blog about it, if anyone is interested), and am convinced that the work I did with her is part of what helped me get pregnant.  So when I emailed her that this last cycle didn't work, she called me almost immediately.  We talked.  She listened, and she looked, and she told me that she thought a month off would be good for my fertility, but two months off would be even better.  And while I don't like it, I believe it.  It feels like the right thing.  Much more right that forcing the issue this cycle, or trying birth control pills to allow me to cycle the following month.  Those just feel wrong.

Yes, it's true.  I'm the scientist who wants cold hard facts to guide me in clinical practice, but then I completely contradict myself by going with my gut (and working with an energy healer, which some may think is crazy, but I know she's the real deal) both with myself and my patients.  When I listen to my gut, even when it contradicts science, I'm almost always right.  So I'm going with it.  Even if I don't want to.

I'm formulating a plan for myself for the next two months.  A plan to get my body and my life ready to welcome a second baby.  But not today.

Today I'm wallowing.  As much as the mom of a 17 month old can wallow, anyway.  For a day of wallowing, it was a pretty decent day.  Even if I did feel like I was about to cry the entire time.

Finn's last swim lesson was today.  We've been going for 5 months, and the current group of babies and parents are just wonderful.  I'm really going to miss it, but the drive was too much to continue, and it was taking up too much of our day every Saturday.  To celebrate our last day, the teacher let the babies go down the slide, which is not technically part of his age group's class.  Finn LOVED it.  He still isn't a fan of going underwater for swimming (though he will now hold his breath 4 seconds while he does it).  But the slide?  He slid down and I let him go all the way under the water.  He came up shuddering and sputtering while signing "more", ready to go again.  It was hilarious!

Our usual routine has been to then go to Panera for breakfast, then do our week's worth of shopping at Target.  That then puts him right at nap time, and he falls asleep on the way home.  I got to Panera today, ordered, and then realized that my wallet wasn't in my purse.  Of all the dumbass things to do.  I didn't want to go home right then, because I knew Finn would fall asleep way too early if we did.  So we ended up meeting up with my sister, her boys and my mom at WalMart, then we went to a little fall festival at the boys' daycare.  Finn had a great time, and then fell asleep almost as soon as we got in the car.

I had plans for his nap time, but when we got home, I crawled into bed, too, and slept until he woke up, over 2 hours later.  We went on a walk after lunch, and I took his fall pictures.  Last year I had visions of getting a picture of him outside in his Halloween costume, but never did it.  So this year I was sure to do it.  After pictures we played for a while, then made it to Target, then out for dinner.  I splurged and had lots of chocolate chip cookies for dessert.  Then I cried the whole way home.

The wallowing is almost done.  Maybe another day.  I need to grieve the loss of the pregnancy that wasn't.  And then I can move on.

Roar!

Itty Bitty Finn Day

On 8/9/10 - two years ago today - I had the IUI that gave me Finn.

Like a few other SMCs, I would like to celebrate today every year, as it ranks up there with his birthday as one of the most important days of my entire life.  But I'm been at a loss for a good name for today. "Conception day" just doesn't sound right, but I couldn't think of anything else.  One of the women I work with came up with a list of possibilities yesterday:

• Knocked Up Day
• Egg Cracked Day
• Egg Invaded Day
• Alien Landed Day
• Itty Bitty Finn Day
• Finn's Real Birthday
• Oven Turned On Day
• Don't Need No Daddy Day
• Sperm Donor Appreciation Day

Out of all of them, loved Itty Bitty Finn Day the best - it just makes me smile.  And so when the alarm went off this morning, I rolled over to see Finn grinning at me and said, "Happy Itty Bitty Finn Day!"  

And then at lunch today, I walked into the breakroom to find this cake waiting for me:

I love the people I work with!

My amazing and wonderful friend Jennie (one of the friends who came to stay with me after Finn was born) has been here the past week to take care of Finn while Nanny M is on vacation.  When I got home tonight he was freshly bathed and ready to go out to celebrate. (Yes, not only do I have a friend that will fly across the country to help out when my nanny isn't here, she also gives Finn his bath, has him make a picture for me...and makes my bed, and puts away laundry....Jennie rocks, and I'm not just saying that because she's currently sitting on the couch next to me while we watch the Olympics.) We went to a yummy burger joint and kept Finn entertained with the contents of our purses and letting him sit on the table while we waited for food. 

After almost 15 months, you would have thought I'd be able to leave the house with everything he needs.  Seriously.

There's a great splash pad just outside the restaurant - it's really best for older kids, but Finn was interested in checking it out.  Saturday we're meeting my sister and her boys at a splash pad with a section just for younger kids.  Based on his fascination with the water here, I think he's going to love it.

(I really need to get my hair highlighted!)

This past week Finn has gone from a crawler who would occasionally walk, to a walker who will occasionally crawl.  He's not my little baby anymore!

Baby Shower

Gift from my sister that made me cry

This weekend, my sister and my friends Heidi and Liz threw me the most wonderful baby shower.  There was lots of great food, music, laughter and love at my shower, but thankfully no games.  Instead of games, there were onsies and burp clothes to decorate with fabric markers, and socializing was encouraged because everyone had to wear name tags.  I had an eclectic group of friends there - work friends, my running partner, friends from college and medical school, and a group of my book club girls flew in for the weekend, which was unexpected and so wonderful!  They all spoiled me (and Chiquitito) with gifts, but the best part really was the fun we all had.  It was the best baby shower I've ever been to (and I'm not just saying that because it was for me!)  

After the shower, my book club girls and Alyson, my college friend, helped pack everything up and bring it upstairs (we had it in my building's party room) and then they proceeded to help me put everything away.  My new nursery bedding was washed, the rug laid down, pictures hung, the crib put together and clothes sorted.  By the end of the afternoon, almost everything was where it needed to be, and all I had to do was supervise.

During the entire weekend I was spoiled - if I needed something upstairs, someone would get it for me; if something needed to be moved, someone did else did it; if I dropped something, I was yelled at if I tried to get it before someone else could.  At one point I said, "You know, I do all this stuff for myself all the time," and the reply I got was, "Sure you do, but you should let us do it for you while we're here and we can help."

I am so blessed to have such wonderful friends!

Two of my friends being being silly and giving Chiquitito some love

Unexpected Words of Wisdom

I’m pretty sure every woman who has ever considered being a mom has, at least once, wondered if she’d be good at it, if she’d be able to handle the demands of caring for a child. And I know that those of us who chose the single mom route think about this even more, since we’re considering becoming the one person responsible for another human’s upbringing. I still find myself wondering if I can do it, if I can be the mom Chiquitito deserves, and sometimes find myself overwhelmed (and more than a little terrified) at the thought of what lies ahead of me. I also remember thinking, for a fleeting moment after my miscarriage, that maybe this was a sign that I shouldn’t be a mom. I know I’m not the only one who has had similar thoughts after a loss or repeated failed cycles, and I know that sort of thinking is pure nonsense, but it sure can seem real when you’re in the midst of feeling that way.

Most days I feel pretty confident I’ll be a good mom. I know I’ll make mistakes. I’ll have breakdowns and probably yell at my boy when I shouldn’t. But I know that he’ll always know he’s loved. And I know that most days my attempts at being the best mom possible will be (mostly) successful. That confidence doesn’t keep the bad thoughts completely away though, and I’ve had those thoughts more than usual the past few days.

Sometimes the universe knows just when a person needs a little extra support, and can find very unexpected ways to deliver that message. Which leasds me to a conversation I had with one of my patients yesterday.

Mr. C has been my patient for about 5 years – he’s 76 and very opinionated and set in his ways. In the past we’ve spent very long office visits negotiating what he was and was not willing to do to improve his blood sugars, and, after I managed to sweet talk him into a few compromises, he has actually done really well. Anyway, as I said, he’s very opinionated, and so I was a little concerned about what he would say about my pregnancy. Our conversation was pretty typical for what I get these days, a surprised “congratulations” followed by a “I didn’t even know you were married!”  I've finally gotten pretty good as responding with a cheery, “Oh, I’m not married, I made this baby all on my own!”

I expected Mr. C would either not know what I was talking about, or act very uncomfortable and change the subject. Instead, his face broke into a huge grin as he said, “Well, good for you! I think that’s wonderful! And you know, I think it’s women like you who make the best mothers. After all I imagine you’ve gone through to get pregnant, you know just how precious this life is, and you know you really want this baby. Yes, it’s women who pursue having a child like you have who know the true value of a being a parent and make the best moms.”

I was so overwhelmed by his words – they were exactly what I needed to hear, right when I needed to hear them. And I thought of those of you out there also on your paths to motherhood, and thought that maybe a few of you might need to hear them, too.

Unfairness of It All

In the ALI community, it’s not uncommon for a blogger to lose followers when she gets pregnant, or for the blogger to decide she’s uncomfortable blogging on an IF blog while pregnant or once she has her baby, because she feels guilty, or she feels like she’s writing to a different community than she originally started with. I’ve struggled with this a little myself over the past few months. This blog started out as a blog after my miscarriage, then became a TTC blog, is now a pregnancy blog, and will hopefully become a baby and me blog in about 5 months, while around me are friends who have had recurrent failed cycles, miscarriages, heart break and disappointment. All things I’m familiar with, but I’ve still felt a little guilty at times, for having good news to share when others of you do not.  It's not fair.

I remember how I felt when I was TTC; it was hard to even want to read about women raising children, because I just couldn’t imagine myself there. Right after my miscarriage I couldn’t read the pregnancy blogs at all; I kept them on my follow list, but I didn’t read them. And then, as I healed, I discovered that I wanted to read about pregnancy again; in fact it was easier to be happy for my online friends than it was for my friends in real life, those first few months after my miscarriage. And so I came to the conclusion that this is, first and foremost, as Single Mom by Choice blog, no matter where I am in my journey. The stage I am in my journey may be difficult or painful for others who are struggling, but on the bad days I know they’ll avoid my posts just like I avoided others on my bad days.

But then Paige lost her sweet little boy yesterday. She was just a week ahead of me in her pregnancy, and my heart aches for her. I had a miscarriage at almost 9 weeks, but that loss pales in comparison to her loss – she had felt him move for several weeks, she saw his perfect body on the ultrasound and knew all was well. She was 20 weeks, all was supposed to be good – this is the time where you’re supposed to be able to worry less. My miscarriage resulted in a D&C where what came out was called “the products of conception” and was sent off to a pathology lab. Her baby was sent to a funeral home. Totally different, and I know I can’t begin to imagine the grief she feels today.

Her loss makes it feel disrespectful to want to post about my pregnancy updates, and I wonder if I’m not the only pregnant SMC out there today who feels that way. But again it comes back to my thoughts above, that this is a blog about my journey, and it’s ok to continue to post. I just wish that Paige were going to be posting about her pregnancy as I post about mine.

I’m not sure why I’m even writing this today…I guess I needed to in order to be able to not feel like an insensitive arse when I do share my pregnancy joys and woes over (hopefully) the next 21 weeks or so.

Paige, if you’re reading this now, or sometime in the future, please know that while I can’t fathom the grief you’re feeling, I do understand if you can’t read my posts for a long time to come. Why do these things have to happen? It’s just wrong.  And I'm so very sad for you and your wonderful family.

Keeping a Secret

The last time I was pregnant, I told everyone the good news, even before my first ultrasound.  I didn’t really mean to tell everyone, though.  I’d planned on telling a close group of friends who already knew that I was trying, my sister and my parents.  But then I made the mistake of telling someone when I got to work, because I just couldn’t help myself, I was so excited.  And less than an hour later, I was getting a text from someone who works for a completely different company, all the way on the other side of town, telling me congratulations.

Well, after that, I figured if everyone was going to find out anyway, I might as well be the one who told them.  It was a thing of joy, telling everyone the good news, especially those who didn’t know I was trying.  Everyone was so happy for me, and it felt wonderful to be so supported.

And then I learned that I’d had a missed miscarriage.  It’s amazing how quickly good news travels, and yet how slowly bad news does.  I had to tell people the bad news over and over and over.  Just a few weeks ago I had someone ask me how my pregnancy was going – while I was taking medications before IUI #4.  (It just so happens that the person I just had to tell was the person who’d sent me that text back in April to tell me congratulations.  Really.)

I have to admit, despite the huge drawback of having to tell the bad news repeatedly, there was a benefit to having so many people know.  It was nice to know that so many people were sad for me.  Nice, but not worth the pain of the repeated telling.

And so I’m doing things differently this time.  I even played with the idea of telling no one at all.  But the support of my close friends when things went wrong was something I couldn’t have survived without.  Knowing how sad they were, and that some of them had already imagined being aunties, really helped.  It was comforting, knowing my baby had been real to someone besides me.

I think and I hope that everything will be okay with this pregnancy, but I’m not brave enough to test my faith completely.  And so I told my close friends and I told my sister.  But I didn’t tell my parents, I haven’t told my coworkers and I definitely haven’t told the friend I told the first time who told everyone else. 

It’s weird, walking around with a secret.  I kinda like it.

Girlfriends

The past 4 days with my girlfriends were wonderful. Sun, drinks, laughter and a few tears with friends you love – there really isn’t anything much better for the soul than that.  I'm sure that my friends were at least a little worried about what to say or how to act around me, but they didn't act like it.  They all let me know they were sad for me, but didn't let it become the focus of the weekend for me, or for them.  I was afraid I’d spend the entire vacation thinking, “I should be pregnant right now” but instead I had long periods of time where I didn’t even think about my miscarriage, much less the fact that I should be 14 weeks pregnant right now. And it felt really nice to have some of that sadness lifted off me for a while.

I did fall off the healthy eating wagon a little bit.  Ok, a lot.  And my whole alcohol restriction went out the window, too.  But it was all for a good cause, and every single drink was worth it!  Especially mimosas on the beach at sunset - I'll never forget toasting our friend Drea on the beach at sunset - it was a magical moment.

I think the raw wound of my miscarriage is beginning to scab over a little bit – I’m even starting to be able to feel truly excited about my next shot at trying to conceive. The most amazing thing is, I really believe it will happen, that I will have my baby. I never truly believed it could happen before my first BFP; I guess knowing my body really does know how to get pregnant has made me feel more certain of my success in the future. My fortune cookie tonight helped that feeling tremendously: “Good news of long-awaited event will arrive soon.”

And the next few days of that wait will be spent much like today – at the beach, which is still mercifully free of oil, for a few more days at least.