Tuesday, June 16, 2015

Feeling crazy

I wish I could fully explain to you how crazy pregnancy can make me feel. Or maybe I don't because I don't want you to have to try to understand what can go on inside my head. I'm currently 16 weeks 4 days pregnant with my second rainbow baby and sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind.

At the beginning of my pregnancy I was (as you could expect) worried about miscarriage, especially after having just lost Lark at about 6 weeks gestation in January. But honestly, I feel like I handled that part pretty well. Then we got through the first trimester and there was kind of a "honeymoon" period of little worry. I felt great! No symptoms really at all (except crazy dreams). But now, I'm getting bigger, I can feel Cranberry (nickname given since due date is the day after Thanksgiving), I'm coming up on my first appointment with the specialist (this afternoon actually), I start my extra monitoring and progestrone shots......and it's getting scary. It's getting blatantly obvious that this is is not a "normal" pregnancy. And so, the crazy is coming out. My anxiety is kicking in.

And because of that I ended up in the ER Sunday evening. Everything is fine, but I was having some questionable symptoms over the weekend. Saturday I had a pretty constant backache, twinges "down there" that I hadn't been feeling before and then Sunday came (TMI warning) discharge that I haven't had before. (More TMI) At my last appointment my OB specifically said to look out for mucousy discharge, that it can be nothing, but in my case it could also be a sign of cervical changes. So yeah, of course that's what I had and of course it happened on the weekend.

I don't care to go into the details of the ER visit. It went fine, everything is thankfully fine. What this post is about is how I feel like I am going crazy sometimes. The decision to head into the ER had me in tears. I didn't want to go (I mean who would). The thought of going made me cry, the thought of trying to wait it out made me cry. I couldn't help but think "what if I don't go in and we lose this baby too, then it's all my fault." I just envisioned getting to my appointment with the specialist today and him finding a little foot dangling out of my cervix. So, I decided to go in (so thankful for a great supportive practice that does not make me feel irrational for going in).

I had a similar experience around 22 weeks when I was pregnant with Ethan. When I went in with Ethan it was the day before Marcellus's first birthday and I thought that was why I was feeling so crazy. But the way I felt on Sunday reminded me of exactly how I felt with Ethan. Here are some experts from a blog post I wrote then (on the private blog I wrote in during Ethan's pregnancy).

From Ethan's pregnancy: "And so my mind went crazy with it. Actually I felt like I was losing my mind. I absolutely felt crazy. I said to Mike how much I hated feeling like that. The worry, the anxiety, the fear, the craziness. Since losing Marcellus we've often said we want a large family, 5 living children. I looked at him then with tears in my eyes and said, "I don't think I'll ever be able to do this again. I don't think I can do this 4 more times." It was the first time in my pregnancy it had gotten that hard. That hard, that I might just say one living child is enough the anxiety is too much."

When I got home from the ER on Sunday night I actually said to Mike, "even if this baby ends up full-term, I don't know if I'll be able to do this again." Very similar feelings as I wrote about with Ethan. 

From Ethan's pregnancy: "My body failed me when I had Marcellus by going into labor so early, I can't trust it anymore."

The above statement tears me up and is now two-fold. Even though Ethan is here and healthy and amazing, my body still failed him too. And he had to spend his first 10 weeks of life in the NICU because of it. So how do I not freak out?! How do I try to trust that things are going okay?! I really feel like I can't. I can not trust my body to keep my baby safe. And what an awful feeling that is. I even said this to my OB on Sunday (when she came down from L&D to see me in the ER)...I told her how hard it is not to be able to trust my body to do what it's supposed to. To keep my babies in until they are ready to be born.

Marcellus is dead because of that inability. He only got NEC because he was preemie. His death certificate even says "extreme prematurity" as a secondary cause. So I go a little crazy during pregnancy. I guess I can't blame myself for that. Two babies - one died, one in the NICU for 10 weeks....yeah, that'll give you anxiety during pregnancy. I'm sure it's going to continue until we are (hopefully) out of the prematurity range. That's a lot of weeks of anxiety left. I plan on starting to see my therapist regularly again to help me manage it. 

It's just not fair I will never have a normal pregnancy ever again. Never will I go through pregnancy without this intense fear that brings me to crazy anxiety provoking thoughts. Never again will I just be able to enjoy a pregnancy freely. And who knows, maybe after this baby I will never again be pregnant because I can't handle that. That in itself is not a thought I am wanting to explore in detail quite yet though.

Marcellus, I am so sorry my body failed you. That it did not do it's job to keep you safe until you were ready to be born. I hate that. I hate that so much. And then your little brother being born early, it failed him too in the same way. And now I fear everyday that it will fail your next little sibling. I don't think people can truly understand the fear you can live with after losing a baby. To have you die was my worst nightmare. And if it could happen to you, it could happen to another baby too. I'm going to work on managing my fear and my anxiety. So that I can enjoy this pregnancy with Cranberry in some ways I was able to enjoy my beautiful pregnancy with you. With you my sweet boy. I love you!!! xoxox.

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Well, actually it's my 5th

I haven't written on my blog about this yet, but I'm pregnant again! I'm about 11.5 weeks along and this baby is due 11/27/15. We've nicknamed the baby Cranberry since the due date is the day after Thanksgiving. So far, everything is going perfectly!

I was at the dentist today for a routine cleaning. I let them know I'm pregnant. Now everyone at my dentist office is super nice, so I don't hold any of this against them. But that doesn't mean it's easy to deal with.

The dental hygienist asked if this was my second pregnancy. I responded that it's my third, however, I wanted to shout "Well, actually it's my 5th pregnancy!" Five, five times I've been pregnant. Three times I've given birth to beautiful children and pray every day that this baby will be #4. But I responded "Third," because who wants to really hear my complicated pregnancy/motherhood journey? What would it be like if I responded in detail...

"This is my 5th pregnancy. I had my first when I was barely 17 and placed her for adoption. I named her Angela Mae, but her adoptive parents named her something else. I haven't heard from her parents in 3 years now, so I have no idea how's she's doing. I pray that her family is still alive and well and that's she's happy. My second, my son, Marcellus Robert, was born at 28 weeks and he lived for only 12 days. Yes, only 12 days. That's right, my son died. He's buried in MN where I only get to visit his grave site about twice a year. He would be 3.5 years old, but he's not here. It sucks! My third child, second son, Ethan Michael, is 2.5 years and thriving. He's amazing, but we had a traumatic start to his life that still haunts me. He was born at 27 weeks gestation and spent 10 weeks in the NICU. I feared for his life and was sure he would die too. Everyday I know the outcome could have been different and am so so so grateful he is a healthy, rambunctious, joyful child. My fourth baby was not here for long at all, Baby Lark. I miscarried him or her at 6 weeks gestation. It was awful and I still haven't made complete sense of it, especially now expecting again. So, yes, this is my fifth pregnancy, but I only have one child at home. And while I am being optimistic that this baby will be born healthy and in November, I know that's not a guarantee. Now that I'm starting to get over my fear of miscarriage, the fear of premature labor is replacing it. Just the other night I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about what if this baby is born prematurely too. I just don't know how I could handle that or anything happening."

But my answer of "Third," was sufficient for most of the appointment. She never asked any details about my children and only commenting on how great I look for being in my third pregnancy. The dentist (who I've happen to never meet, she's only there on Tuesdays) on the other hand asked the question, "How old are your children?" I said my first son only lived for 12 days, but would be 3.5 years old and my second son is 2.5 years old. Here response was "I'm so sorry, that has to be so hard." and she examined my teeth, so I really couldn't respond. But yes, yes it is hard, very hard.

And while it's very hard most of the time it is what it is. It is my life. It is what I live everyday. But then there are the moments, the moments that make you feel the weight of it all. Moments like someone asking you how old your children are. While I am always happy to tell someone about Marcellus, to be able to speak of my children (and not just Ethan), answering those questions can cause me to feel the full weight of it. To step back and think "this is really my life."

It is my life though and everyday I work to make the conscience choice not to let that weight bring me down. There are moments where it will though. That's inevitable through the rest of my life. But in my daily living I choose joy. I choose to feel the joy of being the momma to all these babies. So, while I may have answered "third" I know in my heart that I am the momma of five. All very different circumstances and mothered in very different ways, but I carried each of them in my womb and loved them all from the moment I found out about their existence. They each take up a special place in my momma heart.

Marcellus, even though I didn't get to speak your name at the dentist office I did get to mention you. You are my child. You forever will be, even if you are not here to age. Forever my 12 day old baby, but I am always wondering who you would be as a 3.5 years old. I stopped by your tree. It looks good and is growing so big, just like I'm sure you would be if you were here. E and I are going to MN tomorrow. We'll stop by your spot right away. I hope we can find some beautiful flowers for you and will get it all cleaned up. I am so thankful for you and each one of your siblings. Yes, I wish the circumstances were different and somehow you could all be with me. But you all have shaped who I am and I know I am a better person for having carried and for loving each of you. Forever and ever and always I will love you, you will be my child, my first born son, my squirmy wormy. I miss you sweet boy!!! xoxox.    

Monday, April 6, 2015

I miss him

There's not much to say other than the title.

I miss Marcellus. I miss him every day. Every. Single. Day.

Missing him is just part of my daily routine. It's there, but I don't feel it intensely. But then there are the moments where it is more raw. I feel his absence in my entire being. I feel that tonight.

I feel it in a way that it seems so surreal. Surreal that he was here. Surreal that he is gone. Surreal that I am an infant loss mom. That I have a dead child.

I carried him, birthed him, heard him cry, held him, kissed him and yet he is not here.

He is not here. 

And damn, do I miss him!

Marcellus, I will always miss you. Every day of my life I will continue to miss you and wonder about you. I love you, forever and ever and always! xoxox

Sunday, February 22, 2015

An unexpected hard day

I wrote this first part on January 27th, just never published it.
Why does it seem like everyone else gets to have healthy full term babies and I don't?

I know it's not everyone, I know way too many mommas that have endure as many or more trials and difficulties than I have. But sometimes it feels that it's everyone but me.
On facebook I just saw two beautiful brand new babies from two different people. Not people that I'm close with or have talked to in a long while. I may or may not have even known they were pregnant (and if I did know, I didn't remember) when bam, Facebook makes sure I see those sweet babies.

And it stings. It still stings. I hate that. I hate that it hurts when I see pictures of other peoples newborn babies. I hate that my initial reaction is envy and the pain of my own experiences. I hate that sometimes I think "if they only knew..." but I don't want them to know anything different. And I don't know them well anymore, so maybe there was struggle before that beautiful baby came along. I don't know. But to me it just feels like it was so easy to them. So easy for everyone else.

"Hey let's get pregnant and have a baby! It's easy!" and for some, it is. The getting pregnant is easy, the staying pregnant is easy, the having a full term healthy baby that comes home from the hospital (or birth center or born in  your home or whatever) is easy.
But for others it's excruciatingly difficult to get pregnant. And there's heartache after heartache after heartache. There can be so many obstacles to overcome. And what I struggle with is why so much for some people while others sail through it??? Why does struggle not seem to be equally divided. Why do some go through so much, so so so much and others don't even have to try and everything just falls into place so damn perfectly?!?!?

Yeah, I know, a part of my consciousness I need to work on (I'm reading "The Conscious Parent"). I don't want to think and feel these ways, but for now I do.

So in that first part I wrote about how hard it was to still see pictures of brand new babies on Facebook. I came to sit down to write now because I just found myself crying over pregnancy posts. Seemed fitting to put them together. Damn you Facebook! I have mixed feelings about Facebook for various reasons and have considered getting rid of it on multiple occasions. But we live far away from family and it's an easy way to share what we're doing, especially with Ethan. And I have some awesome groups I'm a part of that I don't want to lose the online connection to.

I have really been doing well lately. I was even thinking about writing an "I am happy despite..." type of post. But then I just now I broke down a little. The other day I saw a pregnancy announcement for someone that has a little boy Ethan's age, she's due in August. Lark was due Sept 5th. Cue heart breaking and instant jealousy.

Then a couple of days ago I met a woman whose kids are about 14 months apart. She made a comment, "I wouldn't have them so close together if it was my choice." I don't understand how it wasn't her choice though?! I suppose she could have gotten pregnant while trying to prevent and I can only imagine what it's like to have two children that young (the oldest is 20 months). But then my heart screams, I want to know! I should know, my boys were born 13.5 months apart. The difference is my "oldest" is dead and that the youngest was supposed to be born 16.5 months after his brother. A dead son and 10 weeks in the NICU, now those weren't by choice.

Just now I saw pregnancy progression photos of someone else who is around 15-16 weeks. She also has up a picture of her little boy (younger than Ethan) in a brother shirt. I saw that and my eyes welled up, lump in my throat...and there they are, the tears. I guess each of the above encounters triggered me enough that with this last one it's all coming out.

I would be about 12 weeks pregnant with Lark. But I'm not, instead I just got my first cycle since having the miscarriage. Marcellus would be 3 years 4 months old. But he's not, instead his life ended at 12 days old.

I miss Marcellus. I miss what should be. I miss what I don't know I'm missing. I miss being pregnant. I fear we'll never have another living child. Ethan's going to get squeezed even tighter tonight because I know just how truly truly blessed I am that he is even here. How fortunate we are to have made it through those ten weeks and have them be relatively uneventful. My amazing little rainbow boy. But he does not erase the heart ache. He does not take away the grief nor should he. That is not his responsibility.

My grieving momma heart feels heavy tonight. Today turned out to be unexpectedly hard.

Marcellus, if only I had you here with your brother to know how crazy it could be to have children so close together. I would welcome that craziness, I want that craziness. Instead there is only one little boy in this house. And what an amazing little boy he is. While I am so so so thankful for your little brother, my heart forever aches for you. For all the days I live, I will yearn for you. And right now I am also yearning to be pregnant with Lark and the pregnancy milestones we'd be reaching soon. I miss you. I miss you I miss you I miss you. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. Oh baby boy, I wish you were here. xoxox.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

It just seemed so perfect

When I found out I was pregnant with Lark, the timing just seemed so perfect.

Mike and I were wanting another baby, even in the trying stage. But we had accepted that it probably wasn't going to happen anytime soon. I'm nursing Ethan and that has affected my cycle. Just the month before we had a conversation about how as much as we want another baby, we weren't in as big of a rush to get pregnant as we had originally felt.

One reason I felt that way is that if the next baby has a NICU stay, I think for our emotional well being we'd have to be done having babies. With that realization, the next baby we have could very well be our last. I can't imagine never being pregnant again. So, for the time being I was happy fantasizing about the future. For the time being, a large family is still possible. If the next baby is born full term, we will most likely continue to grow our family. But again, there's that chance that we won't have that opportunity.

But then I found out I was pregnant on December 26th. Honestly, I was prepared to get my period. I felt like I was getting my period. I just was okay with the fact that I wasn't pregnant that month. But then my period didn't come and positive pregnancy test!

We were at my mom's when we found out. Mike was giving Ethan a bath and I took the test. I watched the lines appear. Yes, lines...two lines!!! I said to Mike, "There's two lines! Look, two lines!" He was happily surprised as well with an excited reaction "Really?!?!"

Yes, really! We got pregnant before we got that desperation feeling we had with Ethan (and even Marcellus). That feeling where it is so heartbreaking each month to not get pregnant. We had avoided that with Lark. That seemed perfect. But now, when my body is ready, I will have that desperation feeling again. Being pregnant with Lark sparked an even a stronger desire in me to have another baby. To have a growing round belly, to give birth, to have a squishy newborn baby. Each month of not getting pregnant will be crushing.

Lark's due date was Sept 5th. That seemed perfect too for multiple reasons. I would have ended this semester of teaching around 21-22 weeks, before I get into the "risky" zone of pregnancy for me. I then would have had the summer off. With Ethan I went on modified bed rest around 24 weeks. I was teaching two classes as an adjunct at the time. The doctor said I was okay to keep teaching and just to take it easy when I wasn't. Well Ethan was born three weeks later, so if I would get put on modified bed rest again, I'd have a hard time feeling okay with teaching. It would maybe be more of a mental thing, but it would be there. With Lark's due date, I wouldn't have had to worry about that.

It was perfect that I also wouldn't have had to be pregnant in October. When I was pregnant with Ethan I was 20 weeks around Marcellus's birthday. It was so hard. I actually spent the day before Marcellus's birthday in the ER. I'm sure it was stress, anxiety, grief causing physical symptoms, but I was a wreck. Now if I were ever pregnant with a baby that was supposed to be born around Marcellus's dates, then I would be okay with it if the baby came around those dates. It's the idea of being at risk for premature labor around Marcellus's dates that is terrifying to me. And now, being realistic, I think the earliest we would end up having a baby due is maybe December? Who knows, but that's my best guess if things go easily for us to get pregnant again. So yeah, a December due date would put me in prime preterm labor time around Marcellus's birthday. His due date was January 15th.  

The age gap between Ethan and Lark seemed like it was going to be perfect as well. I always thought I would have kids close together, 2ish years apart or so. But that obviously didn't happen. Being such a risk for premature birth, we had to make sure Mike would be graduated before we could possibly have another baby in the NICU. It's something I had been struggling with, seeing other people's pregnancy and birth announcements that have new big siblings Ethan's age or younger. I wanted that close age gap in my family too. But when my pregnancy with Lark came and the estimated age gap was 2.75 years, it just felt right for our family at this time.

Perfect. It just all seemed so perfect. We talked about how 2015 was going to be an awesome year for our family with Mike graduating and having another baby. How perfect. But it turned out to be not so perfect. Quite the opposite and instead 2015 started with miscarrying Lark.

Mike graduating will still be awesome and I can hope that 2015 will bring growth to our family. I just don't know if it will feel quite as perfect as it did for those 13 days all was well with Baby Lark.  

Marcellus, the thought of possibly having a due date near what yours was is terrifying to me. At your birthday and anniversary to be around the gestation you were born is scary. Of course, I know I have no control over these things. I should know more than most that as much as we try to plan and do our best, we don't have control. Life is what it is. It comes as it comes. So, I will need to work on letting go of those fears before we get pregnant again. Oh, Marcellus, I miss you so much. I also think of how perfect your pregnancy seemed. How perfect it felt to become a mommy, your mommy. So many perfect moments with you my baby boy. And those moments are locked forever in my heart. They make me forever your mommy. Forever and ever, I love you! xoxox.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

How am I?

"How are you?" might be an innocent enough of a question in casual conversation. But when you're going through something difficult in life that question may sting. How am I?! Do you really want to know how I am?!? Even the phlebotomist that took my blood on Tuesday morning asked how I was. I wanted to look her in the eye and tell her she was taking the blood that would most likely (and of course now we know it did) confirm that I was miscarrying and then ask her how she thinks I'm doing. But I didn't. I had Ethan with me so I managed a half smile and said "okay."

And then there are the people who really do want to know. "How are you doing?" They know you are going through heartache and pain. And they genuinely care about your well being. They genuinely want to know, even if the answer is uncomfortable.

So, how am I doing? Honestly, I don't know right now. How am I supposed to be doing? I'm trying to sort it out. At first I was feeling very very angry. Incredibly angry.  As soon as things started on Thursday and through Tuesday, anger was my biggest emotion.

Then Tuesday the physical process really started. As my womb started to empty, so did my being. I feel empty, distant.

Ethan brings us so much joy. He really does. And I'm still feeling that joy. I still laugh at his silliness and am still warmed by his sweet hugs. But right now it just doesn't permeate my soul like it usually does. I know it will again, but for now it's like there's a shell even he cannot crack. I do not feel fully present with him and I hate that. I hate it so much. For me and for him. I can tell he feels it. I need to get back to being fully present with him. But at the same time I need to grieve for this pregnancy, for Lark. I need to grieve for Marcellus. I just need to grieve. I will find balance again.

And I still am angry. I'm angry about this miscarriage, I'm angry about Marcellus dying, I'm angry that Ethan was premature and in the NICU. And most of all I'm angry all of those things are true for me. All of them are my reality. And that's not even including the emotions that I deal with from placing Angela for adoption. I won't include that here because in a way I chose that grief. I made the decision to place her for adoption. Yes, I grieve not having her here. But again, I chose that, so it's different.

All my planned babies. All the ones I longed for before I even got a positive pregnancy test. Something has gone wrong. Marcellus's death being the most terrible, awful, horrific of them all. And now this. Now another baby gone. Who would have thought that my least traumatizing pregnancy and birth would be the one that resulted in two days of extreme measures to slow labor, a 2 pound 5 oz baby and 10 weeks in the NICU?!

I guess one reason I'm not entirely sure how I'm feeling or how I should feel is because of losing Marcellus. Yes, I am incredibly sad right now, yes I am angry, yes I feel empty, yes I am grieving. But when Marcellus died I literally could not function, I could not sleep, I could not eat. I almost fainted a few times. I sobbed and wailed and cried and cried and cried for whole days and days and days on end. My arms physically ached for the baby that was supposed to be in them. We spent days in the funeral home holding our son's dead cold body as our last physical moments with him. We planned a funeral, came back to an empty house with no child to care for. I didn't know how I would live. I thought my heart should stop when his did. I didn't think there was a chance to be happy again. It was dark. Very very dark. Very dark.

Miscarrying Lark sucks. It truly does. But for me, it does not come close to touching the intensity of Marcellus's death. And I think in a way that is preventing me from properly grieving this loss.

I need to grieve for Lark, for the dreams and hopes that started as soon as we saw that positive pregnancy test. It's going to look different than my grief for Marcellus and that's okay.

Marcellus, miscarrying Lark not only brings grief of another baby lost, but it also brings up some of the grief and emotions surrounding your death that I have not felt (or let myself feel) in awhile. Some of the same rawness is there again. Some of the deep deep anger. It's not fair all of this. It's so not fair. I want you here with your little brother. I want to be 7 weeks pregnant with Lark like I should. I want you and Ethan to both be waiting for the arrival of a new sibling. But we're not. You're not here. Lark is gone. Only Ethan is here on earth with me. And while I am so so so thankful for him, I miss you like crazy. Every day I miss you and long for you. Every. Single. Day. And now I long for Lark too. I wonder if you two are together. Are you? A younger sibling on earth and a younger sibling with you. I don't know that I necessarily find that comforting because really you should all be on earth with Daddy and I. I love you all so much! So so so so so so so much!!! xoxox. 

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Goodbye Baby Lark

For 13 joyous days we got to dream of you, anticipate you. But almost as quickly as you came into our lives, you were gone. Or were you never really here? We never even got to see you, I never got to feel you. Many didn't even get to know about you.

Medically, you may not have been considered a baby. But to us, you are our baby. As soon as we found out about you on Dec 26th, our family view changed to include you. Even with our fears (of premature labor, how Ethan would do, etc.) our hearts instantly expanded with love for you.

But something went wrong and you didn't grow. We will never know why. Your short existence did bring us joy and excitement. I was so excited for you. And now you're gone. We have had to say goodbye. I miss you already. My heart yearns to have you safely in my womb.

Goodbye Baby Lark. I love you.

We found out we were pregnant on Dec 26th while we were in MN at my mom's house. We were trying, but honestly didn't think it was going to happen that month. So, we were excitedly caught off guard to get a positive pregnancy test. We told a lot of our family and some close friends in person while still in MN. We nicknamed the baby Lark after enjoying a fun trip to Lark Toys.

Of course the first trimester is always a little nerve wracking not knowing what's going on. But I've never had problems in the first trimester before. In fact, I was trying to ease any first trimester fears by telling myself that between all the pregnancies my mom, sister and I have had, there has never been a miscarriage. Well, I guess there's a first time for everything and if it's something bad it seems I'll be the one to experience it. So here I am, having the first miscarriage in my family.

Earlier last week I would mention that I didn't feel pregnant. My exhaustion (an early pregnancy symptom for all of my pregnancies) seemed to go away. Something just felt off. Then on Thursday, Jan 8th, I had some bleeding. I went to the doctor and they didn't see much of anything on the ultra sound. The doctor said he maybe saw the start of a gestational sac, but that it was too small for the computer to even measure. He said at my suspected gestation, about 5.5 weeks, that they would expect to see a more defined gestational sac. He listed 3 things that could be going on, 1) Chemical pregnancy where the baby never develops, 2) Ectopic pregnancy or 3) I'm just not as far along as I thought. While I wanted to be hopeful, right away I didn't think 3) was very likely. I had my blood drawn and my hcg levels were checked. The number on its own doesn't give us any new information. I get my blood redrawn tomorrow (Monday, I'm writing this on Sunday) to see if they are going up as they should, decreasing (chemical pregnancy) or leveling off (would then suspect ectopic pregnancy).

Yesterday (Saturday) I started to get my hopes up. I hadn't had any bleeding since Friday morning. This whole time the "waiting game" has been awful. I already missed work on Thursday with everything going on. I didn't want to get my hopes up just to have them smashed early in the week. I don't want to have to miss more work. So with it being the weekend, which gives me time to process, I took another pregnancy test last night.

I took one Thursday night too (the nurse at the OB said my test earlier that day was faint and this was before I had my results from my first blood draw). The one I took last night is lighter, a sign my hcg levels are going down. That this is really happening. That there is no hope. Some people have said to hold on to hope until I know for sure the results of my blood draw. I'll let them hold on to that hope. Is it fair to say goodbye to Baby Lark before we are 100% sure? Maybe not. But for me I need to start this grieving process now to be able to function during the week.

So today, I say goodbye, yet again.

Marcellus, when we were in MN visiting your spot we talked to you about how you were a big brother again. Another little sibling we hoped to have in our home. But unlike Ethan, that little sibling is not staying here with us. And we grieve. We grieve not only the life we anticipated, but never got to know, but we grieve everything we've been through. We especially grieve you. I do have to say this is nothing like the intensity of losing you. But it still sucks. It still hurts. I still and will grieve. And all this grief is intertwined. Intertwined with the daily grief of you not being here. Of having to say goodbye to you when you were 12 days old. Of knowing I carried you safely until 28 weeks gestation, but that still wasn't enough. This baby didn't even get to six weeks. We never saw his or her heart beat. For you, we held you as yours stopped. It's all very different and it all sucks. I miss you my squirmy wormy. I miss you so damn much. Loving you always and forever. xoxox.

Updated Tuesday, 1/13.
I got the official call this morning confirming what I already knew, that I am having a miscarriage. Physically things have really picked up in the process today as well. So today is what we will consider Baby Lark's "birthday."