I don't know how else to say this, but we lost the baby on Tuesday, and we are doing ok

This blog meant to tell my story. And now my story includes a miscarriage. So here I go.

On Tuesday we went to the first OB appointment. They did an early ultrasound. Everything was going well. Then the tech said, "The baby is measuring 6 weeks. And there is no heartbeat". Which means that two weeks ago, for whatever reason, the baby stopped growing. The baby was gone.

Then my head took over and explored the options. I could take some medicine to help facilitate the passing of the baby at home. Or, I go under anesthesia and they would complete the process.

In all honestly, I didn't want to do either. Yet, the fact of the matter is, is that the baby was gone. Fetal demise in utero they said.

Then they sent me home to think about it. That's when I watched the Watchmen again. There was a lot of hot boiling tears, anger and sad going on. The movie helped distract me. Because I needed my head to figure this out. Before my heart took over.

I went in for the surgery. It went well. I cried when I say they brought me to my "surgical suite". I cried when they had me change into a gown. I cried when they started the IV. I cried when they wheeled me into the operating room. I didn't want to do this. Mr. Hall was holding my hand the entire time. I didn't want to do this. And I cried and sobbed. I didn't want to do this. Then I went to sleep.

And when I woke up I remembered this song. A song I haven't heard in over 10 years. Yet there it was, clear as if I had heard it that morning. It was the beginning of my heart taking over.

It' called:

"I'm stretched out on your grave"



It's a dark song. Reading through the lyrics now, I realize that this song is all about her losing a little girl. I like the part where she sings "I would have sheltered you through rain and through storm." Because that's what I would have done for this baby. Still would.

And my heart, right now, it's just breaking right now.

Then, I remember. Healing is not a linear process. There will be good days and bad days. Good hours and bad hours.

Then my head takes over again. I remind myself that life is all around me. That I believe we are all part of a bigger life force. All the trees and plants and everything around us is connected by an unstoppable and interconnected life force. And for 6 weeks the baby's life force was growing inside me. And I housed her well.

The reality is, is that the baby stopped growing. For two weeks she was already gone. Her life force had been reabsorbed by this vast universal energy. And my body had been carrying on, like nothing happened. But she was still gone.

Then then my heart takes over again. But this time, my unstoppable, relentless, positive and thankful energy is taking over.

When Mr. Hall and I got married, we purposefully formed a family. Him and me. And we had decided to add at least three more to this tribe. We made this commitment to be parents even before the babies were conceived.

They were real before any positive pregnancy tests. Two of them are here now, running around and driving us crazy in the most wonderful ways. There were real before they were born because they grew in our hearts first.

This third baby, that we just lost, wasn't meant to be ours. Yet here's the thing. The third baby was already here, full grown in our hearts. But now she's smaller. A wee bit of a thing. But she's still here. Waiting to grow again. Only different next time.

So, for the next two months- I pamper myself. I will go back on weight watchers, yoga and spend time growing with my new friends. I will soak up this spring weather. I will drink lots of booze. I will let all of these emotions-- good, bad, ugly and beautiful wash over me. Because even though I don't want to be on this journey, I'm here.

And so is Mr. Hall.

And this next song, this song is for him. Because we are doing ok, we are healing together. And I want to thank him for being with me through this. For letting me be there for him.

This will make all the difference I think. Being thankful and listening to each other.

so here's where I end this one and last post about baby the third.

the song is called

"Thank you for hearing me"

Before you press play, I suggest you curl up with your partner, wife, girlfriend, boyfriend or husband. Snuggle and turn this song up. Because it is the most thankful song I have ever heard.

Heck, snuggle with your dog or cat if noone else is home. Even a pillow will do in a pinch.



And thank you guys, for reading this. It's a tough subject to talk about. Thank you for reading me.

In the grip of the blueberry

Week 7, the wee-est Hall, still in utero, is the size of a blueberry.

I feel so disconnected, so floaty and exhausted. Exhausted doesn't even cover it. It's like my body is in slow mo and I'm talking myself through every movement. Like when I get dressed. I say to myself, "first the tights, then the dress, then the suede boots, then breathe." Then there is matter of the pukies. Which have arrived. Good times.

I feel like there is a grip on me, from the outside. I feel like I am being carried along, floating in jello.

Then, sometimes, I have a few hours were I am free. All the nausea and exhaustion is gone. The boobins are just there, not being fireballs. Then I start to panic just a little. And want to reach for my remaining five pregnancy tests.

Then I chill out and realize that all of this ebbs and flows. And there is a new level of trust between me and my body. I can do this. I've done this twice before even. I can weather the electrical booby storm, the waves of nausea and the brick blanket of tired. Because I am growing a miracle.

And throughout the week I'll read this and try to hold back the tears of joy.

Ehem . .

Mommy loves her little blueberry. Can't wait to see you ;)

WEEK SEVEN

The big news this week: Hands and feet are emerging from developing arms and legs — although they look more like paddles at this point than the tiny, pudgy extremities you're daydreaming about holding and tickling. Technically, your baby is still considered an embryo and has something of a small tail, which is an extension of her tailbone. The tail will disappear within a few weeks, but that's the only thing getting smaller. Your baby has doubled in size since last week and now measures half an inch long, about the size of a blueberry.

from

http://www.babycenter.com

At Six weeks, she's the size of a lentil bean

This week her ears, nose, arm and leg buds start to appear. Her heart has already divided into chambers and is beating 100-160 times a minute. The brain is expanding as well as the entire nervous system.

This is my baby, inside my womb, at six weeks. She's about the size of a lentil bean. It's a miracle on the inside I tells ya.

On the outside I can barely stay conscious. The boobin fire has settled though. Up half a cup size (woo hoo!). But oh my god I'm so tired. I sleep 12 hours a night and take monster naps during the day.

It's pretty funny really. I mean, I like to think of myself as in charge of my body. I eat certain things to make me feel energized, I yoga to keep things in line. I can affect how I feel and how I move. My control and my ability to affect my body is pretty easy, most of the time.

But just like the last two times, my body no longer belongs to me. I'm knocked sideways by a rush of hormones. Estrogen and Progesterone increase 40 fold during pregnancy. This explains the bigger boobs and the exhaustion. But again, this is what is happening on the inside.

On the outside I am a silly mess wrapped in a euphoric fugue state. Fugue is a good word. Slightly disconnected and very sleepy. Euphoric is a good word too. It's beyond happy, delirious even. I'm on the verge of crying happy tears at any given moment.

So happy, so joyous. Soo sleepy. Yawn! OK. off to work we go. Me and wee-est one. ;)

Boobies del fuego

The blog is suffering related to my lack of coherent thoughts and need to express them. Which is fine. I keep pulling from the archives. Which is thick and silly with Mrs. Hall.

Above all, I've strived to give quality blog here. Emotional arcs to my stories. Fun and positive stuff. No mention of bodily functions. Then I started the getting knocked up x 3 project. And got friends in real life. Work is getting heavier. As such, the blog is gotten thin lately.

Another part of the problem is that I do not want to repeat content. I don't want to write the same thing over and over again. Nor do I want to repeat myself. Or get redundant with writing the same things. Or go on and on about the same thing. Nor do I want to repeat myself. I don't want to write about the same thing over and over again. Wait . .

Which is an issue 'cause my life revolves around the same things. Wife, mother, nurse, writer and now friend. I haven't told you much about Olivia. But that's cause it's special. It's not ready yet. Not ready to be published here.

So now what? Do I just turn into a Mommy blogger? How do I keep the newbies entertained? How do I tell them about the many slices of the Mrs. Hall pie?

Well, let's do this.

Let's just see where this goes. And let it be all free fall and let the chips fall where they may.

On Saturday Morning I took the first pregnancy test. Mr. Hall was out of town. The positive line was barley perceivable. So I showed my toddler son, the wee Mac. I said, "Mac, how many lines do you see?"

"one . . TWO!!!" He yelped in his toddler voice.

I held my breath and got excited. For the rest of the day I showed Mac how to be careful for the baby by rubbing my lower belly. He is very careful when sitting on my lap now.

I told Mr. Hall this and he said, "You had our son check your pee stick? " (hee hee hee)

Then I took the test this morning.

FLAMING POSITIVE.

My boobies are so sore. FLAMING.

I booked the first OB appointment. They will do an 'early ultrasound' during that week. Week nine. The baby will be the size of a kidney bean.

MY HEART IS FLAMING.

It's all so much right now. So much to be fraught with. So happy.

Then Charlie hugged me goodbye on my way to work this morning. And he kissed my on the cheek. Then he paused and hugged me again. Only lower. And he said, "Bye bye baby, love you".

and he kissed my belly button.

sniff sniff . . . .

;)

It's probably too early to tell you this (update ;)

If I had any sort of self control, or ability to hold back personal information . . then I WOULDN'T HAVE A BLOG NOW WOULD I??



so.

little bit positive.

maybe a little bit preggies..

we shall see ;)

UPDATE:

day two, another positive pregnancy test. Looks like game on ;) or as Mr. Hall says,

"Mommy wasn't careful."

tee hee hee

Pregnancy Due Date Calculator

Congratulations! Your baby is due on or around:

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Right now you're about 4 weeks pregnant and your baby isthe size of a poppy seed.

Crazy Sauce not allowed in the hot tub

This will be a hodge podge type post cause really, I've got nothing left for organization. Or brevity. At least not today.

We own a hot tub. Now that we are trying for our third, our access is limited. Unknown dangers for me and my possible with child status. Mr. Hall's access is limited too. Don't want to cook the sperm.

That being said, I was waxing poetic about the hot tub last night. We were sitting in our leather love seat. It's more of a two seater love seat, just enough room for our nightly snuggle, all ensconced in our soft, deep purple blanket. It's a lay-z-boy recliner and we both love it so.

We snuggle at the end of the night and watch our pre-recorded nightly program. These days it's usually Mad Men or Lost. Sometimes we mack and completely forget the show is on.



Mr. Hall is a twitchy sort though. If we are watching the show he is always twitching his legs. Or moving his hands. IT DRIVES ME AND MY ADD NUTS CAUSE I'M SO SENSITIVE TOWARD NERVOUS TWITCHY NERVOUS ENERGY!!! Cause I'm hyper at baseline. Having a twitchy warm body next to me MAKES ME MORE HYPER SO KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY!!!!!

And he does.

Now, last night, I was waxing poetic about the hot tub and how I miss it. Cause we are trying and all. Which lead the conversation down the usual road. This being an exaltation of the big preggy boobins, the swollen belly . . . all the good stuff.

Then I say, "If my water hasn't broken I can labor in the hot tub." His legs start to twitch. I go on, "I mean, we can just lower the temp a bit and I can get all nekkid and lounge in tub while I am contracting." His arms start to twitch a bit.

I go on. And on about how our son's labor was so magnificent. And really, it truly was. It was so awesome that even now, three years later, I remember the joy and the mess and the pain and I feel all these joyous flashbacks wash over me. And Mr. Hall was there, so much there I forget that it didn't happen to him to. And I am saying this all.

And I'm waxing poetic, connecting it all to the hot tub. And his legs just keep twitching harder except it's not winding me up. Cause I'm not paying attention. I'm being swept away by my own lovey dovey birth story. I'm starting to feel the vibrations from all his twitching. Yet, I'm seeing unicorns and rainbows and cherubs and love. All in the hot tub. And finally, his body is full on spasming AND is now KICKING THE BLANKET OFF OUR LAPS.

"Jesus! What the heck? What's wrong with you?" I say. Kind of shocked and irritated he's interrupting my fantasy.

"NO! No babe, there is no way you are laboring or giving BIRTH IN THE HOTTUB!" His voice is raised, face a bit flushed.

"Hey, I said my water would not be broken. " I point this out, matter of factly. Puzzled by his response.

"NO!! It's just gross!!" His voice is all flustered.

And he got up and twitch-hopped out of the room.

I still am a bit puzzled by this response. Then again, it was messy the last time. So, maybe he has a point ;)


It was funny beyond belief this event. He was so worked up about it. So grossed out. GAWD I love that man! :)

Chances are . . . .

Tonight I bought the test that can tell me, in about two weeks, if or if not. Or...I could just wait until my body tells me. Because it always does.

Either way, two things are true. When Mr. Hall calls on the phone in the middle of the day, or enters a room, I do indeed get a silly grin.

And this song was piping through Walgreens while I was making my purchase. Clear as day. I don't remember ever hearing it but, oh my goodness what a song.

Here, take your time, relax a bit. And take a listen.



Take care everyone . . . .

Touching God in Dark Places

We are now trying to conceive our third child. And within the next week, the sentiment goes from ‘we're trying to get pregnant’ to ‘this is when it could happen’. Or, as Mr. Hall says,

"Game on!"

I am very thankful I started this blog after my two children were born. Now I can write our stories better. Beyond the cold hard facts I mean. Watch how the stories change throughout this post.

Pancake was conceived on a Sunday night after an episode of X-files. We had been married about 4 months. There was a beige futon involved. When I took the pregnancy test, it was a Saturday morning. The toilet seat had cracked the night before and it pinched my tush.

When the test turned positive I plotzed. I didn’t believe it. I called the nurse help line and asked if I should have a blood test to make sure. I called my friends and my mom. It stunned me for a long time. An excited stunned, but I was stunned none the less.

Mac was conceived on a Monday morning after we dropped Pancake off at day care. We were in the lower level guest bedroom in our first house. We were really, really tired, but it was fun none the less.

When that test turned positive, I was in my kitchen. I did a little jig and called Mr. Hall. He was not as shocked or surprised. But I was. I was happy and more relaxed but it was still a matter of-"I can’t believe it worked!"

With both pregnancies, the state of shock wore off when zombie like exhaustion and nausea become my constant companions. Nothing takes pregnancy from an abstract thought to an unrelenting and bone crushing reality, faster than that. But really, this time around, I am prepared for all if it. I have learned to nap sitting in my office chair. I have learned to puke with ninja like precision. No biggie :)

So let me start talking about our next baby. Who is already here by the way. The kids have always been here, even before they were conceived. It's just a matter of when they will arrive. Because they are here right now, in our hearts.

This next baby will be conceived a bit differently. This time I am just letting go and letting it all happen. Without ovulation charts, without obsessing. I'm letting the miracle happen, as is.

Which really, it’s happened that way in the first place, twice.

Becoming pregnant is a largely invisible process. I cannot make any of this happen by planning or sheer force of will. It's a matter of turning my body over to the divine and letting her unseen magic whirl within.

This is the pigeon pose by the way. I pose I did this morning. Go yoga!

All of this is coming from us and outside us. All at the same time. For us, first came the love, then came the marriage, then came the baby in the baby carriage.

And make no mistake, there is no love like married love. Living together doesn’t even come close. At least not for us. Then there is the love I have for him- because he made me pregnant. Our babies grew inside my belly because of him. There are no words for this. Just paroxysms of joy and permeated bliss.

Which I find myself feeling, over and over again, in the dark. We turned off the lights and we crawl into bed, feeling the warmth of our dark red comforter. We nuzzle and spoon in our cherry wood sleigh bed. Our babies snoozing sleepily across the hall. Babies we birthed. All of us here, home.

In the dark, during these nights, I feel whole and full of God’s grace. I feel the swirling energy emanating from inside and outside our bodies. In the dark, when we are bound round each other, smooshed and warm, I feel touched by the hand of God. I feel the miracle of our marriage. A miracle we've been blessed with.

And maybe, just maybe, before next month, we will be blessed with yet another miracle still.

I'm looking forward to the big boobies

I am a woman who takes matters into her own hands.

This is especially true when getting pregnant.

Mr. Hall and I will try for our third child soon. To start trying I need to stop my birth control. Which causes some complications. My birth control is a mirena IUD. That being said, before I got pregnant with my son, I made an appointment to have the previous IUD taken out.

Which placed my matters into someone else's hands.



Which really, this was no good. I mean, the appointment went fine. But, deciding to get pregnant is a crazy lust filled crazy oh my god I love yes yes yes yes I wanna have more babies with you type moment.

I don't want no stinkin' doctor involved. And I don’t need no stickin' doctor!!

IMA NURSE!!!!



A nurse practitioner even.

All schooled in the arts of self care and womanly empowerment!!

So. Then.

Last night we made it possible for me to become with child.


My womb is about to go crazy with all the re regulating and preparing for the getting pregnant again.




We weren't phased until this morning.

We looked at each other after we woke up.

Our eyes met and we raised our eyebrows.

There is a large difference between talking about getting pregnant again and then actually doing it.

hee hee hee

I can say this without any doubt, I am soo looking forward to my boobs getting bigger. I miss being a d cup.