I had a really bad day yesterday. I don't know if it was hormonal, seasonal, or a combination of both, but I felt sad, angry, and bitter all at once. I cried hot, angry tears. I threw things. I took out my frustrations on my husband. I felt like being mean. I wanted someone else to understand how badly I was hurting. "No one understands how badly, how deeply, I hurt," I thought. "I am truly and utterly alone."

But one of my best friends in the whole world caught me online last night and asked me how I'm doing. She always asks, even when I put on the facade that things are fine. She never pushes or probes, but she always asks. She cares. She doesn't understand my pain, but she always asks. And listens. And just is. She's there.

I apologized to Drew last night for yelling, crying, and picking a fight with him. This friend who listened helped me remember that pushing away the person who has been my rock through all of this isn't the answer. I don't know what I'd do without him. I don't know what I'd do without her. It is hard to imagine being more of a mess than I am now, but I know that I would be, if not for them and all of the other wonderful people in my life.

This morning, the sun was shining (a rare commodity around here in the winter). The rays slanting through the curtains made me feel a little less desperate. I made coffee. I stopped and really let myself experience the whole process: smelling the ground beans, smelling the aroma as it brewed, smelling the dark liquid as I took a sip. It helped a little, I think. I walked over to the dining room table and smelled the roses my parents sent us for our anniversary. I laughed a little, thinking of the literal-ness of my action. I checked my e-mail. A surprise. The author of a book on infertility, written by a pastor's wife in Washington state, has sent me a note. She stumbled upon my review of her book on Goodreads last night, and wanted me to know that my words blessed her and that she is praying for my peace. Wow.

So often, I have felt alone during these past three years. It is hard not having anyone close to me who truly understands our complete situation--the continued infertility, the loss of two children, my health concerns both now and for the future--even if they can relate to and empathize with pieces and parts of it. But I realized this morning, probably knew deep down in my heart, that I am not alone. I have more friends and family members who care than I am worthy of having. I have people who pray for me consistently, and/or ask how I'm doing. I have an amazing husband who holds me and loves me, even when I yell and scream and slam doors.

And I have Someone looking out for me who has graciously given me these blessings--plus the added blessing of kind words and prayers from a stranger who truly has experienced what I have--on the morning when I needed to read them most. It's hard to believe that it was just a coincidence.

-Em

It may not surprise you to hear that I've been feeling rather "ho-hum"--even Scrooge-ish, at times--about Christmas this year. This month marks our 3rd Wedding Anniversary, which Drew and I are extremely proud of and excited about, but it also marks our 3rd anniversary of trying to start a family, which lends a melancholy tinge to the entire event.

Earlier this month, while I was still miscarrying our second child, I had a brief moment of holiday spirit, thinking that if I surrounded myself with glowing, twinkly lights and the cozy beauty of a home decorated for the holidays, my spirits would lift--would cast aside our troubles and yet another year of disappointment and loss.

The moment didn't last long, however, and I soon just felt overwhelmed by my to-do list of finishing up my first semester of university teaching and keeping my head above water at Work #1. Since that brief moment of insanity, I have been slow and unenthusiastic about finishing my Christmas shopping, cards, etc. Usually, I listen to Christmas music--Diana Krall, Frank Sinatra, Michael Buble, James Taylor. This year, my CDs have sat in a pile, gathering dust.

This morning, on the very slow and slick drive to work after a two-hour delay, I found myself scanning the radio stations. For some reason, I stopped on the local station that has played Christmas music 24/7 since some insanely early date in November. I recognized James' voice, and I stopped to listen.

Though there are many different versions of the song 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas', I must admit that James Taylor's version is my absolute favorite (that's saying a lot, since I love Judy Garland's 'Meet Me in St. Louis' version, as well as Sinatra's). His interpretation is decidedly more melancholy than other versions, and perhaps that's why it caught my ear this morning.

Here is a portion of the lyrics and a video of him performing the song:

Christmas future is far away, Christmas past is past.
Christmas present is here today bringing joy that may last.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, may your heart be light.
In a year our troubles will be out of sight.

From now on, have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the yuletide gay.
In a year our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore.
Precious friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more.

I know that in a year we all will be together, if the Fates allow.
Until then, we'll just have to muddle through somehow.
And have ourselves a merry little Christmas now.

Cause everybody knows... (etc.)

My wish for all of you this Christmas is that you can appreciate the now and the little joys tucked in among the news of friends and family losing jobs, of losing loved ones, of continuing to struggle, when it certainly feels like you've struggled more than your fair share lately.

As for us, our Christmas will be little, modest. We'll open the smallish presents we've decided to do this year, stuffed in the two lone stockings that hang, waiting so patiently for a third to join. We'll huddle close together, under the covers, trying to keep each other warm, trying to shelter one another from what life has thrown our way...trying to focus on on the little reminders of joy and hope, when they pop up, and pray for gracious blessings for us all in the New Year.

Happy Holidays, Everyone.

-Em and Drew

I don't know which words to write. I can't believe I'm sitting here, doing this, again. Is this some sort of cruel joke, God? Are you kidding me? I just can't believe this is happening, again.

As I sit here, trying to string together some semblance of a coherent thought, some combination of words that make sense at a time when nothing makes any sense to me, I am overwhelmed with feelings of devastation, heart-break, anger, and bitterness. Unbelieving, unjustness, jealousy, self-pity, self-loathing. And...did I mention anger?

As I sit here, trying unsuccessfully to write, I am losing our second child. Saying good-bye to that precious baby, piece by piece. I awoke from the longest stretch of sleep I've had in several days, startled by the vividness of the dream I couldn't shake: another friend announcing a second pregnancy. These sorts of dreams shouldn't ever become classified in the nightmare category, should they? Others' exciting news of their happy, healthy, ever-expanding families? Ashamedly, lately, that's what they have become for me. Can I take another? Can I sit by, again, smiling and nodding, telling them how happy I am for them, while inside I feel hard, cold, angry? How can I continue to be the friend who sits by and listens, supports, coos over bellies and babies, while a piece of me (and my own baby) dies a little more inside?

I am still in shock that this is happening to us again. To be fair, I'm still in shock that we became pregnant again. This has all happened so fast. And now, the happiness, the hopefulness, is leaving us as quickly as it came. How can this be happening, again?

We received our good news Thanksgiving weekend. Having returned from a visit with my sister and her husband in Columbus, Ohio, on Sunday, November 30, I decided I needed to take a home pregnancy test. My period had not yet arrived, and Drew, Becky, and Justin could probably attest to the fact that I was decidedly tired (and in great need of frequent urination) during our visit. I had been trying not to get my hopes up, and honestly, didn't really think this cycle had turned out that well, anyway (timing issues, lack of hcg trigger shot this time due to someone's incompetence). I took the test, and left the bathroom. I went and sat on the couch in the living room. Drew came over to me and said, "Well?" I told him I couldn't look; I was too nervous. I asked if he could please look for me. (I just couldn't take another negative, again.)

He took a long time. I heard the leaflet from the test package rustle. I heard him walk toward me. I knew, then. "Well, Em, according to this....he looked into my eyes deeply...we're pregnant." My eyes immediately welled up. I couldn't stop saying "Really?" while crying. Could this really be it? Was it finally our turn for happiness? The test line was a little light, but that was definitely a positive test. Thank you, God! We were going to have a baby.

Monday morning, I called my doctor's office, and because they know me way too well there now as an infertility patient, they were all very excited with our news as well. I went in for an hcg quant (blood test) that day to confirm. We got those results back on Tuesday, confirming that I was indeed pregnant. The levels were a bit low, but because I was only a little more than four weeks along, we weren't very concerned. We would just repeat the quant in 48 hours to ensure the levels were rising (hopefully doubling) properly. The results came back on Thursday. I called the office three times that morning. Finally, after lunch, the call came. My hcg levels had gone down slightly. I immediately caught my breath. I knew that was bad news. "Let's not jump to conclusions," the nurse said. "Doctor wants you to repeat the test tomorrow, but we won't have results until Monday. We're not giving up hope yet, okay?" She asked if I was still experiencing pregnancy symptoms, which I was, and if I had noticed any spotting, etc. yet, which I hadn't. I hung up the phone, and tried to hold in the sobs. "Oh God, please, no..." I called Drew, crying, and told him the news quickly, then told him I needed to go to a meeting. I sat in my office, trying to prepare for this meeting, but my mind felt as if it had ceased to think logically, coherently...at all. I sat there, paralyzed, yet hyper-ventilating. My boss walked by, her arms full of binders, on the way to our marketing meeting. "You about ready, Em---oh God, are you okay?" I didn't realize it just then, but I was crying uncontrollably. She came into my office, shut the door, and asked me what was wrong. I told her the whole story, and she told me to skip the meeting, call Drew back, go home, and spend time with him."I'm so, so sorry," she said. "I can't even imagine. This has got to be the worst  thing a woman can go through, and I can't imagine going through it more than once."

I was home Friday, waiting, praying, hoping for a miracle. By the end of the day, I had somewhat convinced myself that this pregnancy might be saved. Saturday morning, around 5 a.m., I awoke with a start. Something wasn't right. I hurried to the bathroom. Hmmm. No red yet. Maybe I'm being paranoid. I went to the bathroom, and that's when I saw it...red on the toilet paper. It had begun. The bleeding became heavy quickly. We did not call the doctor, even though we knew she was on call this weekend. We knew what declining levels and a lot of bleeding meant. There was nothing to be done.

I'm sure I'll get a call from the doctor's office later this morning. Confirming further drops in my hcg levels. I'll tell them then that the miscarriage has begun.

For now, with my head somewhat cleared, I will try to head back to bed. Hope that the elusive sleep can be conquered. And pray that, for now, no more nightmares awaken me, sobbing in a pillow pool of tears.

-Em

As many of you know, my dear friend, Kate, is pregnant with her first child, who is scheduled to make his/her worldly debut in late January of 2009.

Two weekends ago, a few of us (Michele, Aubrey, Mary [her Mom], and me) threw Kate a baby shower in her hometown of Earlville, Illinois (where we all graduated from high school). Mary, Kate's Mom, was gracious enough to host the shower at her home, and between her, Michele, Aubrey, and me, we were able to pull together all of the food, cake, decorations, favors, games, etc.

(I wish I would've remembered to get a picture with all of us girls in it before or after the shower, but the whole thing was such a whirlwind, it never happened. I'm super bummed. )

Michele took care of getting a PHENOMENAL cake from a local bakery (great job, Michele!) and helped me plan games.

Here's Aubrey's beautiful daughter, Maggie, standing next to the cake table with favors:

Aubrey made some wonderful sets of her famous handmade cards for the winners of the games. Everyone was so pleased to receive those gifts. She is so talented! 

Michele and Aubrey also worked together while Kate opened her gifts, taking meticulous notes as shown below. Life savers!

Another good friend of mine, Gail, who lives here in Michigan has become friends with Kate through blogging, spent one whole Saturday with me a few weeks ago helping make two of the major decorative features for the shower: the diaper cake and baby sock roses. I can't tell you how much she helped me with ideas and assembly. She is by nature much craftier than me, and I'm sure I would've completely ruined the projects without her calming influence and natural ability to make things beautiful. Thanks, Gail!

From diapers...

To assembly...

To a finished centerpiece.

From teeny baby socks...

To baby sock roses. (Again, I'm so sad I didn't get a picture of the arrangements we put together with the baby sock roses when they were complete. I think they turned out really cute, but you'll just have to take my word for it.)

Speaking of Gail, she made some absolutely beautiful gifts for me to bring down to Kate (I know, right? How thoughtful.). Here are a few pictures of Kate opening the handmade items...

A crocheted afghan...

A fleece tie blanket...

A super-soft hooded towel...

Here are a few more select pictures from the shower (Kate, I have more, and I am still planning to send you a disc with all of them soon)...

Virjean (and a teeny bit of Tara)...

Mary looks on proudly...Maggie helps with organizing presents...

All in all, I think the shower was a success! It was wonderful to spend some quality time with Kate and her Mom as well as Aubrey and Michele (though my time with them was much too short). It was also wonderful to catch up with Kate's good friend, Amanda, from college, who I don't believe I've seen since Kate's wedding more than three years ago! Amanda was also a big help with passing out cake and helping Mary fold all that gift tissue paper that we KNOW she'll be hoarding for the next 20 years!  (You know we love you, Mary.)

Kate, we all love you very much, agree that you look fabulous, and cannot wait to meet this energetic little person (hehe...Baby Madden) who has taken up residence inside of you (oh, by the way, I got to feel the baby a few times that weekend, too...sooo exciting!).We can't wait to meet your little one. Here's to a safe and healthy final few weeks of pregnancy!

-Em 

We got quite a bit of lake-effect snow yesterday.

Most of the leaves already had dropped (and luckily Drew got the majority of them up before the snow began on Sunday), but here are a couple that are still hangin' on...

(More pictures on Flickr.)

-Em