Estimated Due Date Take 3

Last weekend my husband’s sister came to visit with her family, which includes a daughter who is 1 month younger than Ava would have been.  Had I had the normal experience the vast majority of women get-I would be a mother to a 2 year old toddling girl right now- not crying because I got to see first hand what I’m *really* missing all last weekend, nor blogging or working my ass off to repair the damage that 6 pregnancy losses has done to my marriage.

Does this years sadness hold a candle to the pit of hell I was in last year?  Absolutely not-because for right now the sadness isn’t compounded by the straight up fear that Ava was as close as I was ever going to get to being a mother and giving my husband the family he deserves.  Instead, i just mourned what we lost – my daughter and our marriage bliss as I wondered what next year will bring.


External Cephalic Version Attempt

We came.

We saw.

Declan kicked her ass.

4 hours later we left labor and delivery, after she tried to flip him 3 times, (anatomically) exactly as we came in…

with Declan still in Frank Breech position, only with me slightly more sore, and I have to admit, really, really, really, really, really disappointed that yet again I’m not going to be able to experience something normal, like labor and delivery.  Which is kind of a bummer because it was the one thing I really thought my body would be able to do and well…you know…maybe give it a chance to make up for all its asshole ways.

Instead-in order to get this baby out-I’m going to have to have my first major surgery ever which could quite possibly decrease my already very shitty fertility odds and it will most likely permanently take away my ability to ever attempt labor and delivery IF by some friggin miracle i were to EVER get here again with a baby who is head down.


Pregnant with FiscaBabyBoy: 35 Weeks

Far along: Thursday June 21, 2012: 35 weeks

Food aversions: None.

Food indulgences: Still fruit.  I love fruit.  I hate Diabeetus.

Doctors appointments: Regular OB x 1, Non Stress Tests x 2.  Rho Gam shot because I am rh negative and hubby is rh+, I’m group strep b negative, my cervix is a finger tip dilated and this baby is still friggin breech.  3% of pregnant woman have breech babies, apparently even slightly more rare on the first one-which is why I’m not shocked to be splashing about in this pool.  The discussions have begun about scheduling an ECV in order to at least give me a shot at experiencing labor rather than being forced into a scheduled C Section because of his breech positioning.

Most anxious moment:  Still struggling with his less than 10 kicks in a 2 hour time block-sometimes I might only get 2 or 3 moves in 2 hours.  Then I lay there and wonder if there are rules to how this works?  Can i poke at him or shake him all about to wake him up?  If I do, do I get to count those movements or is that cheating?  Then I play the should I call my nurse and ask her this game for another 30 minutes before I break down and call.  Does everyone else’s baby really move no less than 10 times within 2 hours????

My body, yep, it’s still an asshole and now along with the diabeetus, heart burn, acid reflux, right side inguinal hernia and Restless Leg Syndrome I now also have acquired this horrible numbness and pins and needles in BOTH of my friggin hands.  Awesome.  Typing, driving, holding things, trying to find a position of comfort or get in and out of the bed, bath or car without bending my wrists or using my hands to move this huge body of mine, picking things up…forget about it the list is long and lousy.  Carpal tunnel syndrome sucks dirty sweaty ballzac.  My golden retriever has never been happier-and will gain who knows how much weight over the next 4 weeks as I drop half the stuff im trying to eat or cook on the floor and am too fat and slow and incapacitated by my hernia to do anything about it.

Things purchased for the baby: Not much purchasing, more like returning and exchanging right now.

Milestones: To my knowledge, there are no more blood tests to be run on me before giving birth.  I am actually thinking about maybe putting things in a bag that I would need for a hospital stay and just the other day i opened the bag and looked at the breast pump for probably 2 whole minutes.

Lies, All Lies!

“Pregnant *In* Heels” my ass!!!


“Pregnant With Elephantitis Feet and Chankles That Used To Fit In Really Expensive Heels But Now I’m Barely Able to Jam My Feet Into The Shoebox They Came In”

is a little more accurate.

This show is bullshit.  I don’t know a woman who is in the 3rd trimester who can pull this off unless they are buying shoe box sized Louboutin’s with their pre pregnancy sized heels hidden away in their closet-apparently right along with their intelligence.

The Nursery…

Turned out even better than I had hoped and is (by far) is the most comfortable room in our entire home.  I find myself gravitating to that room just to rock in the chair and relax.  On a few occasions my heart strings have been tugged when I’ve found myself walking in there to cop a squat only to see my husband fully reclined and bundled up in a blanket while reading a selection from the library.

At almost 33 weeks I am so pleased to say all of the major pieces are complete, just waiting on a few letters that were back ordered for his name that will go on the crib wall, the installation of shelves in the closet, finding homes for all of the toys, gear and clothes from the shower last weekend (that’s a whole other post) and of course a healthy take home baby…


While cursed by infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss, I have been blessed because I have met women along this journey that I now can’t imagine my life without!  I was lucky enough to have some of those women attend my shower, for my baby (never ever thought I would ever get to write or say that) along with other friends and family.

Christine I can’t thank you enough-you took on the ridiculous task of trying to throw a baby shower for a woman who had far too many years to dream of what hers would be like-and all while starting a new job, and leaving your little man behind for the weekend and having to drive 7 hours one way in order to so-i love you.

Jaq-in the midst of a never ending pregnancy miscarriage nightmare # 9 you drove 4 hours one way  (to attend a BABY shower) and then proceeded to work like a slave to help pull together all of the finishing touches.  I am so lucky for your love and support!!

Pregnant with FiscaBabyBoy 32 weeks

Far along: Thursday May 31, 2012: 32 weeks

Food aversions: None.

Food indulgences: Fruit

Doctors appointments: Nothing spectacular this week, just my regular weekly OB appointment and twice weekly Non Stress Tests.  So far he still continues to be a perfect-albeit breech-in utero passenger.

Most anxious moment: You’re still doing that “I’m going to go ahead and take a nice long nap while you are frantically moving about the house trying to get ready for the baby shower” which inevitably ends in me freaking out, stopping whatever I’m doing and finding the doppler.  Wish i had a sure fire way to wake you from your slumber to get an im ok kick or jab out of you.

My body continues to behave like an asshole and now along with the diabeetus, heart burn and acid reflux it seems I might be developing an inguinal hernia on my right side AND I for sure now have an amazing case of Restless Leg Syndrome.  Awesome.  Simply awesome.  Sleep-beginning to wonder how many years it will be before I get to be friends with you again.

Things purchased for the baby: More nursery stuff, a tummy time rug for what will eventually become the duo mommy and baby play area and a couple more stretchy dresses as the 2 that i fit in now are getting slightly redundant.

Milestones:  We are solidly in the 3rd trimester, have graduated to weekly OB appointments and are preparing to be showered in 48 hours, I still can’t believe this is happening!

There isnt a day that passes…

that I dont have at least a handful of flashbacks, memories or moments of gratefulness for where I am right now.

Especially this past month.  Last May was by far one of the hardest months I have EVER lived through.  I didn’t realize how much so until this month when I would catch myself trying to recall where I was last year on this date (as most infertites do) and then almost cry because the memories are so dark and painful to even linger in now.

I was so broken, so hopeless, so sure that every pregnancy I was going to have for the rest of my life was going to end before it got a take home baby, how isolated I was from the life I used to have before the loses and how incredibly damaged the relationship with my husband was because of all of this…that month was the grand pu ba of shit shows out of all my shit shows.  And every time I look back on it now, the more grateful I am to be this far today.

Post after post of heart wrenching or raging content was published last May.  There were even posts I didn’t publish because they were even too dark for me back then-reading them now is gut wrenching.  As I am reading them I just can’t believe anyone can suffer like that-then I realize its me that I’m reading about, and want to vomit.

While I am so friggin grateful that I was finally given a furlough from the trying to get knocked up and stay knocked up prison of hell, it forced me to leave behind my two good friends Jaq and Jordana, who both have been kicked to shit *repeatedly* over the past few months and it crushes me as if it were my own.  Because their struggles are so similar, their pain is felt as sharp as my own pain.  While I have never met either of them in person (yet) I have a visceral response when I learn of their news-both the good, and unfortunately always the bad news that isn’t far behind.  I am so grateful to not be locked in that prison, but also so guilty because I couldn’t drag them out of there with me.

You see, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss unfortunately *isn’t* like the Marines-the suffering wounded, barely able to breathe never mind hold their head up women are left behind all the time.  Every minute of every day, while those of us on furlough run for our lives, and the lives of our little passenger, trying insanely hard not to look back out of fear of what we are going to see or even worse because we fear we’ve tempted the fates and now our furlough will be rescinded and our little passenger forfeited.

It is because of this that I am filled with gratefulness and a deep sense of appreciation.  It comes out all the time.  As I writhe in pain from a muscle spasm in my back that prevents me from drawing air into my lungs I am so effing grateful that I’m pregnant and that’s what’s causing it that I cry tears of disbelief.  As I shuffle around my house in the middle of the night instead of being able to peacefully sleep due to the sneaky electric squirming worms that take up residence in my legs and hips every night I collapse into bed, I won’t lie, I cry tears of frustration (and sometimes pain because I stub my effing toes) but behind the tears is always the immediate thought that Jac and Jo are some where lying in their beds beaten and heart broken, fighting that shit ass fight-and my heart (along with my prayers, wishes, hoping, burning things for them and of course begging) goes out to them while  I am truly grateful and absolutely appreciate where I am now.  Each and every second.  Because it is exactly where I want to be and hope that very soon, they will be too.