Thinking Out Loud

32-week Belly Shots

drewnem — Sat, 30 Jan 2010 14:43:58 -0500

Can I just say how unphotogenic I am? This is nothing new; I have been all my life. Gah! Drew and I were all cranky with each other this morning because 1) I hate having my picture taken so much that I pretty much will myself into an unsmiling, awkward, annoyed, or high-as-a-kite looking expression (usually with my eyes closed) and 2) Drew usually can't stand still long enough to get a shot of me that isn't blurry or completely unflattering. We're quite the pair when it comes down to taking these belly shots. It is actually quite a miracle we haven't thrown in the towel yet on this whole endeavor as we both dread it so much! Oh well. We're going to take these and be so happy we did this in the end, damnit! Right? Right???

Believe it or not, this was one of the better photos of me mid-laugh.

One of the most unnatural-looking smiles, ever. Awesome.

And, here's the winner. Interesting how I always look better with as little of my face showing as possible!

-Em

Entering the Home Stretch...

drewnem — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 19:47:52 -0500

So, uh, when did I get to be 32 weeks pregnant? That one sure did sneak up on me! I can't believe how fast this pregnancy has gone, and it's hard to believe that in several short weeks (less than two months, actually, since they still plan to induce me at 39 weeks) a little tiny person will be coming to stay with us indefinitely. Squeeeeeee!

Today began the first of a bi-weekly regimen of non-stress tests (NSTs) and a weekly regimen of biophysical profiles (BPPs), in addition to my regular OB appointments and high-risk specialist appointments. That's right: I wasn't spending enough time at the doctor's office before; they want to see me at least twice a week from here on out. Luckily, at this point it still appears that Baby DeBo is doing great and there is no need to be concerned. The ultrasound that makes up the BPP went great, and Baby's growth, etc. is still right on track. She's measuring at a little more than 4 lbs.! Also, according to the ultrasound technician, she has the "most perfect little nose." For the NST, they hooked me up to a monitor to measure any contractions (none today, thankfully) as well as the Baby's heart rate and frequency of movements, kicks, etc. during a set period of time (20-30 minutes). The OB said that Baby's movements "couldn't be better" and that she's "textbook" as far as what they want to see during monitoring. The doctor ended the appointment by saying that my blood pressure, glucose levels, and weight are all doing great.

As I left the appointment, I gave Baby Girl a little pat and congratulated her on doing such a good job. Little girl, keep up the good work! Mama's so proud of you. Despite all of the obstacles working against you, you are thriving...our little fighter!

-Em

P.S. I'll try to post new belly shots at the end of this week.

P.P.S. Our newest nephew, Nicholas Jacob, was born yesterday afternoon! He weighed 7 lbs. 12 oz. and was 20 1/2 inches long. Everyone is doing great. Isn't he cute? Hopefully we'll be able to get down to K'Zoo to meet him very soon.

29-week Belly Shots

drewnem — Mon, 11 Jan 2010 12:32:21 -0500

I just wanted to post these quickly before I fall even further behind. Despite my best intentions, we didn't take my 28-week belly shots. We had carpeting replaced in all of the major living areas of the house last week, and as you can imagine, moving all of our furniture out of the way before and back in after was a huge undertaking. All I can say is thank goodness for those little sliders you can put under furniture...they were a life saver for moving the piano into the nursery! Anyway, things are mostly back in order now, and I feel like I can breathe again with things back in place (not literally, though, I've been perpetually congested and feel as though I'm constantly out of breath!). The nesting instinct has kicked in hard, and I actually had what Drew called a "mini pregnancy melt-down" this weekend as I looked around at everything that needs to be organized and put away. This is when being a perfectionist really has its drawbacks. I know I need to chill out and take things one step at a time, but I look around and just want everything done NOW! Is this normal, or am I just a nut-so? Please feel free to leave your thoughts and own experiences in the comments.

We had the first of my three baby showers yesterday with Drew's family in Kalamazoo, and it went great. It was wonderful to have so many of Drew's aunts and cousins attend, and we received some wonderful gifts, including some impressive handmade ones: a crocheted blanket, a precious little knitted hat, and an insane amount of handmade hooded towels, burp cloths, wash cloths, bibs, and receiving blankets with different appliques and beautiful trim from Drew's Mom (we keep telling her we'll get her set up with her own Etsy store one of these days to sell them, they're just so beautiful!). It was so fun getting so many adorable little things!

-Em

28-week Appointment Update

drewnem — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 14:05:24 -0500

Today we had an appointment with the high risk specialist in Grand Rapids. We had my 28-week ultrasound, and everything is looking just fine as far as Baby DeBo's growth is concerned. (She's currently 2.7 pounds and about 14 inches long! Sorry, though, we didn't get any good pictures to share this time around.)

The doctor also reviewed my most recent glucose levels and said that I'm still managing my blood sugar well with diet alone. (Phew! I was worried they might put me on more medication or insulin today.) My OB did have to increase the dosage on my blood pressure medication last week, however. I was a little upset about that, because all of my readings at home have been low, but apparently when I'm out and about (and/or stressed and/or annoyed and/or upset by waiting for, I don't know, MORE THAN AN HOUR IN THE WAITING ROOM), it increases significantly! (Who knew?)

Anyway, even with having the knowledge of these circumstances and that my at home readings have been low, she decided to double my dosage. I'm hoping it will be more than enough to manage these spikes that seem to happen when I'm stressed out. There's still no sign of protein in my urine, so pre-eclampsia is, luckily, still not a concern at this time. Starting at 32 weeks, I'll be having non-stress tests to keep an even closer eye on the baby as we enter the "home stretch" (and because the effects of both of my high risk conditions usually increase during this time).

Other than that, things are still looking good. The specialist said that having chronic hypertension along with gestational diabetes is actually somewhat of a good thing (wait for it...), because GD alone usually leads to big babies and hypertension alone leads to underweight babies. In my case, the effects of each disorder seem to be leveling out Baby DeBo's growth. As the specialist put it this morning, "It's like the Goldilocks effect--she's not too big, and not too small, but juuuuuust right."

-Em

P.S. I need to post a 28-week belly shot here at some point. We'll have to take them first, however. I'll try to do that soon, as there's only a couple days left in my 28th week. Sheesh, now that I'm in my third trimester, I can tell the rest of my pregnancy is going to just fly by...

1999-2009: The Long and Winding Road to Drew...and You (My Baby Girl)

drewnem — Thu, 31 Dec 2009 15:22:02 -0500

New Year's Eve, 1999: My college boyfriend of three months proposed. He'd gone "downstate" for Christmas to be with his family (I stayed in Houghton), and when he returned, he stopped by my apartment downtown, flashed an impressive diamond ring, and popped the question. I was 20 years old. My first thoughts when he asked THE question were: "Is he joking?" then "Well, I have no good reason to say no, right?" (In retrospect, I can see these were not good signs.) I said yes. My parents were surprised. My close friends were surprised. We rang in the new millenium, and I still couldn't believe I was engaged at age 20, during my second year of college. How surreal. A couple of months later (when Michigan Technological University was still on trimesters), my fiance graduated and moved to Indiana for his engineering job. Thus began our 2+ year stint of "getting to know each other" through a long-distance relationship.

Summer, 2001: After picking up extra credits each term and taking some summer classes while working on campus, I graduated a year early from college. I had the incentive to finish college in three years, after all--I had a fiance that I only saw once a month (if I was lucky) when we drove back and forth between Upper Michigan and Indiana (and later, Lower Michigan) for weekend visits. And our wedding was planned for August, 2001. I accepted a job offer in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where my fiance had recently moved after accepting a better job offer in an area where I'd be more likely to find a job in my field. I moved in with my fiance, got married (I was so nervous, I bawled the whole way down the aisle, as my Dad told me to pinch my finger to help with that), started my first real job out of college the week after the wedding, and was well on my way to living the adult life I'd always been in such a hurry to make it to.

Fall, 2001: My new husband and I purchased a nice house in the suburbs right as his assignment at work changed. He was placed on a project at work that required him to travel to London every month--gone two weeks, home two weeks. This assignment would last for two years.

Fall, 2002: I decided to start working on my master's degree to keep me busy while my husband was out of the country for work. I had made some acquaintance friends at work, but I didn't really have anyone in the area that I could hang out with, and I felt very alone in that house out in the suburbs. I really wanted to get a dog to keep me company, but my husband was against it, and I received a security system instead. I hoped throwing myself into the hard work of working on my master's while working full time would keep me busy enough that I wouldn't feel so lonely all the time with no real friends or family in the area. My husband and I didn't get to talk much while he was away in London because of the time difference, his long hours, and the expense of international calls.

Fall, 2003: I told my husband I wanted a divorce. We'd grown apart while he traveled for work. (Or maybe we'd finally gotten to know each other well enough, in slow motion from the perpetual long-distance relationship, to realize that we were very different people and wanted different things from a marriage.)

Early 2004: The divorce is final and the house in the suburbs has an offer. I am devastated at the failure of my marriage, crying every day, yet I feel somewhat hopeful, deep down, for a chance at a better future. Despite all the pain I'm experiencing, I feel certain in my heart that it was the right decision. My friend Andrew from work is my main source of comfort during this time. We worked together on many of the same projects at work, and he is always worried about me and checks in to make sure I'm doing okay.

Fall 2004: Andrew and I are now dating, and even though it raises eyebrows from some friends and family, I am so happy to have found someone that I can have an easy, unexhausting relationship with. Plus, he makes me laugh constantly. Could I be in love?

Spring, 2005: Andrew and I are house-hunting. Our relationship has gotten more serious, but even though we haven't made it "official," we seem to know in our hearts that we'll be together, whether or not we get married. A week after we move into our house, Drew pops the question. This time, when asked if I'll be someone's wife, my first thoughts are, "Hell yes! There's nothing I'd rather do than marry this man in front of me! He is the other half of my soul."

New Year's Eve, 2005: Drew and I are married with a few close friends and family members at a small, historical inn. The ceremony is intimate, casual...perfect. I'm not nervous. I'm just happy.

2006: Drew and I decided to start trying for a baby as soon as we get married, but things aren't going very well in that department. We have a delayed honeymoon that summer, after I finish the last grueling semester of my master's degree. I see my doctor to see if they might know what's wrong with me. I'm diagnosed with polycystic ovarian disease and am told that it will greatly hinder my chances to get pregnant. I'm extremely sad at the diagnosis, but we've had a wonderful first year of marriage despite that setback.

2007: In the midst of switching to a new doctor and undergoing many, many tests, I become pregnant. We are elated until we lose the baby at 11 weeks. I go back to work and can't concentrate; everything I'm doing seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of my baby's death. I realize I need a change and need to find a job that allows me the opportunity to be more creative. In October, I resign from my job and start a new job. This much needed change, and my relationship with Drew (my constant source of strength), feel like the only things that get me through the next several months.

2008: After surgery and several months more of trying to conceive, I become pregnant for the second time. We find out Thanksgiving weekend, but learn that the baby will not make it. Our excitement immediately turns to despair, and I dread Christmas. We celebrate our third anniversary quietly and wish for a better 2009.

2009: After a couple more months of trying with my current doctor, we are referred to a fertility specialist who rubs us the wrong way at first. A few weeks after our initial consultation with him, and after receiving more test results, we decide to undergo his suggested regimen and I become pregnant that first month. We are cautiously optimistic, literally seeming to hold our breath during that first trimester, and announce your existence right after my 30th birthday.

New Year's Eve, 2009: I look back at the last 10 years of my life: the excitement of graduating from college and becoming an adult, the heartbreak and crushing guilt of divorce, the lessons learned personally and professionally, finding true love, enduring the devastation of losing two children, and witnessing the strengthening of my marriage through the joys and difficulties of the last four years of marriage. The road that led me to Drew was long and winding, though in retrospect, a necessary part of making me the person I am today. I am so grateful to have him as my life partner. Best of all, this year on our anniversary, as I enter my third trimester, we can celebrate the anticipated arrival of our Baby Girl.

I want you both to know that it was all worth it. Everything that brought me to Drew...and You.

Happy 4th Anniversary.

All my love,
Em

26-week Belly Shot

drewnem — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 19:37:33 -0500

Here is my 26-week belly shot, posted a little late.

I feel like that's the story of my life right now--doing everything late. I finally just submitted my final grades for the semester tonight, and I guess that frees me up to catch up on a bunch of other things, but I'm sort of just tired and lacking the motivation to roll up my sleeves and dive into the next thing(s). I have a roomful of presents to wrap, several of which still need to be sent out-of-state, a dining room table with Christmas cards that have been neglected, and a list of baking that still needs to occur. *Sigh* I guess I'm going to have to resign myself to the fact that some people will be receiving their presents late, I may not get Christmas cards done (period) this year, and I may not get to as much baking accomplished as I'd hoped. What I really want to do, instead of all of these things? Take a nap!

Speaking of naps, have I mentioned I'm sleep deprived? Baby DeBo is starting a little routine of waking me up in the middle of the night to have a party in my belly. Despite the lack of sleep, I can't help but smile when I wake up to a flurry of little kicks. She's definitely preparing me for her arrival and those sleepless nights!

As for the gestational diabetes...I'm managing as well as I can right now. The diet is still going well, but I've gotten a few erratic readings (i.e., levels above where they're supposed to be). It just goes to show that this condition really is my body not cooperating, because I am being even more strict than I have to be, most often, with my diet. We'll have to see what the specialist says about those readings at my next appointment in a couple of weeks. I'm trying not to worry about them too much, but in the back of my head I am worried that I won't be able to fully manage my GD with diet alone, as I'd hoped, despite how hard I'm trying. I'm starting to wonder...is being poked as much as humanly possible my lot in life? (Blood draws galore, hormone shots to get pregnant, finger pricks to measure my blood sugar...perhaps next will be insulin shots to manage my blood sugar?) Ah well. I'll just keep taking it all as it comes. After all, what else can you do, right?

It'll all be worth it in the end. I can't wait for that day!

-Em

Appointment Updates

drewnem — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 18:32:53 -0500

As I mentioned in my last post, yesterday I went to meet with the high risk specialist in Grand Rapids. First, I met with the diabetic counselor to discuss in detail the diet I'm to be following as well as to learn how to monitor my blood sugar four times a day. Pricking my finger is easier than I thought it would be, and I think I have the hang of it already. Also, my first readings (from yesterday and today) are all looking great--just where they're supposed to be! The woman I met with said that the diet I've already been following on my own is great. It was really nice to hear that I'm already doing a great job since receiving my diagnosis. She even asked what college classes I teach, because for a second she thought I might teach nutrition rather than writing. Oh yeah...I really know my stuff!

The ultrasound at the specialist also went really well. Baby DeBo didn't want to show us her face during the 3-D ultrasound, though (as you'll see below). As far as growth goes, she is still right on track. The doctor seemed very happy with her growth; she is currently in the 35th percentile at 1.6 pounds--not too big from the gestational diabetes and not too small from the blood pressure. Speaking of blood pressure, mine is currently the lowest it's been so far in the pregnancy, which the high risk doctor (and my OB today) was very happy with. My weight is also right on track. Overall, the appointment went really well. Everything is looking really good for the moment, and I'm so happy that everything appears to be being managed well for now.

The OB echoed the sentiments of the specialist today at my appointment. I get to wait three whole weeks before I go back for my next OB appointment (after Christmas) and four weeks until my next high risk appointment (early January). My OB also reiterated for me today that if something were to happen and we had to deliver the baby now, she would most likely survive. From my own reading, I already knew that to be the case, but it was nice to hear her say that as well. Even though we still have a long way to go, it feels good to remember that we've also come so far!

Here are a couple of pictures from yesterday's ultrasound:

-Em

24-week Belly Shots and Update

drewnem — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 20:05:42 -0500

Every two weeks, when I realize it's time to take a new belly shot, I think to myself, "I don't think I've gotten that much bigger in two weeks..." but then I see the new pictures, and sure enough...ka-pow! Whoa, Mama...

In other news...

I meet with the diabetic counselor and high risk specialist on Monday, and I'll be having another ultrasound at that time as well. I'll keep you posted on how that goes. Then, on Tuesday I have my regular two-week OB appointment. Although I'm up to my ears in doctor's appointments these days, I'm trying to remember that having multiple doctors keeping such close tabs on me and the baby is the best thing possible for us!

Tonight I think I experienced my first set of Braxton Hicks contractions. I wasn't really expecting any this early, but I've been reading tonight that many women notice (actually feel) them for the first time during their sixth month, even though they've probably had them earlier. Now I'm laying down, taking it easy, and drinking lots of water, and I think they're subsiding, thankfully. Yikes! Those hurt.

Lastly, I think I'm about as adjusted to a diabetic diet as I can be in two weeks time. Sure, it's been tough being so rigid about how many carbohydrates I allow to enter my body at what times, but I'm finding now that I'm not missing things like sweets or soda nearly as much as I thought I might. I guess I'll see how I've been doing on my own with the diet after I meet with the dietitian on Monday--I am going to try to do all that I possibly can to manage the gestational diabetes with a strict diet so that (hopefully) we won't have to worry about insulin. I'm actually looking forward to pricking my finger four times a day, starting on Monday, to better understand what my blood sugar is doing throughout the day! (Wow, did I really just write that? )

-Em

The Reason for the Season

drewnem — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 09:31:37 -0500

There is something so completely humbling and touching about being pregnant during the holiday season. Perhaps it's just that my hormones are working in overdrive these days, but I find myself moved to tears, oh, on at least a daily basis.

Here's just one example of what I mean...

During my commute to work the other day, I decided to switch over to a radio station that plays Christmas music exclusively. The song "Mary, Did You Know?" by Kathy Mattea (my favorite version of the song, thanks to my mother) came on the radio, and I was overcome with joyful tears and an overwhelming awe as I listened to the words:

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Did you know
That your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
That your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered
Will soon deliver you

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Did you know
That your baby boy will calm a storm with His hand?
Did you know
That your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little boy
You've kissed the face of God

Mary, did you know?
The blind will see
The deaf will hear
And the dead will live again
The lame will leap
The dumb will speak
The praises of the Lamb

Mary, did you know
That your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Did you know
That your baby boy will one day rules the nations?
Did you know
That your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding
Is the Great I Am

It's interesting to imagine the thoughts that Mary had as she carried a child in her womb who, she'd been promised, would be the Savior of the World. If I find myself continually humbled and grateful and filled with an incomparable joy at carrying my own little miracle, how must Mary have felt?

-Em

Giving Thanks

drewnem — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 08:52:54 -0500

On this day of Thanksgiving, I am filled to the brim with thankful thoughts. We have so much to be thankful for in our lives, and I want to list just a few of them here today as a reminder never to take these everyday blessings for granted.

Today, I am especially thankful for...

A life partner who truly understands me, reads my thoughts, and loves me unconditionally.

Shelter that provides comfort and security and truly feels like home.

Two pets that provide joy and challenges for us to learn from every day.

Careers that provide sources of income and work that is stimulating and meaningful to each of us (a rare commodity to many in Michigan these days).

A beautiful baby girl, growing stronger every day, in my belly: the absolute light of my life!

Caregivers who are monitoring me closely and are giving this precious child the absolute best chance possible for a healthy entrance into this world.

Challenges that, though overwhelming and scary one day, morph into opportunities to grow and evolve, to become a better and stronger person.

And, finally, family and friends who, although we don't see them nearly as often as we wish we could, are a constant source of support, strength, and encouragement to us. Thank you, one and all.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Love,

Drew, Em and Baby DeBo

GD or not GD?

drewnem — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 14:22:31 -0500

(Gestational Diabetes or not Gestational Diabetes?) That was the question.

The answer? Gestational Diabetes.

Should've known. I was holding out hope that maybe I'd sneak by without having it, but my doctors had been pretty forthright that with having PCOS, the risk was high.

I'm pretty upset. I feel like I did something wrong to make this happen, and that makes me sad. And I'm angry, because after all we've been through to get here, our pregnancy has been full of complications as well. The doctor was joking today that I want my own "library" at their office, full of just my own medical records (my chart is so large, it looks like an epic novel). I joked along, too, then burst into tears in the car. I'm so sick of having so many things wrong with me. What I wouldn't give for one uncomplicated thing to come my way.

Don't get me wrong...I'm still so thankful for what we have, where we've gotten. It could be so much worse. I need to remember that--it could always be worse. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself.

I have another appointment with the high risk specialist on December 7th, and at that time, they'll show me how to monitor my blood sugar and discuss the possibility of insulin. In the meantime, I just need to follow a diabetic diet.

The doctor said today that there's a very good chance that I won't make it to my due date, with having GD and with the high probability of preeclampsia still lurking around the corner.

I'm scared. I just want this precious baby girl of ours to be okay, and I feel so horrible, because it'll be my fault (again) if she's not.

Please pray.

-Em

22-week Belly Shots

drewnem — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 16:40:20 -0500

When I look at these pictures, taken earlier today, it's hard for me to believe this is a 22-week belly--it seems so much larger to me. I'm definitely starting to feel the effects of being so "round": the backaches, the sore feet, tiring more quickly when I've been up and about for a while, even more heartburn... It's a little scary to imagine what my full-term self will look/feel like! Still, every time I look down at my expanding waist, I can't help but smile or cry (happy tears). I am so thankful for the tiny miracles of each day, each hour, and each minute that I can see and feel precious Baby DeBo in my tummy.

Last week, I came across a darling little red velvet Christmas dress for a baby girl, and I just started bawling uncontrollably at the sight. The thought of having a 9-month old next year around the holidays was so exciting and wonderful to me, I was completely overwhelmed by the happiness that swelled up inside of me. How long we've been waiting for these special, miraculous, joyous moments. How many Christmases have come and gone without the gift of a precious child of our own. This year, as the holidays approach, I feel myself happier and more thankful than I've ever been. Our long wait has ended, and we're living each day basking in the simple pleasures of our baby girl's squirms and kicks while daydreaming about seeing her face for the first time. Life is truly good.

To update you a bit on the medical side of things, I had a 24-hr. urine test last week (which checks for protein in the urine, a sign of preeclampsia), and it came back normal. I'll be repeating the test in a few weeks, but I was glad to have my worry relieved for now. I also performed the 1-hr. glucose test at that time, and the results came back abnormal. The doctor wants to see my levels at 135 or below, and they came back at 152. Because of the abnormality, I had to perform the 3-hr. glucose test yesterday, and hopefully I'll have the results back by my next OB appointment on Tuesday. I'm trying not to worry too much either way, but if they come back abnormal again, we'll know that I have gestational diabetes. I know that it can be managed with a strict diet or even insulin, if needed, but of course I'm still hoping that I don't have it, for the baby's sake. I'll keep you posted on the results.

If I don't post beforehand, I hope that everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving!

-Em

20-week Update

drewnem — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 17:41:31 -0500

Many of you probably know by now (via Facebook) that we had our 20-week ultrasound on Friday. Baby DeBo was being very uncooperative, as has become the normal behavior with ultrasounds. People kept asking us if we planned to find out Baby's gender, and the answer was never yes, but was more like "We'll see if Baby cooperates!" I'm glad we went into Friday's ultrasound with that state of mind, not counting on being able to find out the gender, because as it progressed, it became evident Baby DeBo did NOT want to share its secrets with us. I became a bit disappointed, just because I was so looking forward to finding out, but then I started thinking that the prospect of it being a surprise could be kind of neat, too. Near the end of the ultrasound, the technician tilted the table back so that my feet were above my head and started shaking my belly to get Baby to move up and give us a better view. We got a couple preliminary peaks between the legs, and I started having a hunch about the gender, but I knew we couldn't tell anything for sure with just that. Finally, Baby gave us the money shot, and we confirmed that we are having a GIRL! The technician admitted that earlier on, like me, she began to have a hunch that it was indeed a girl, but I'm really glad she waited until she was sure to say something. We are so excited!

Baby DeBo's heartbeat is right at 145 bpm, and she is measuring right on for gestational age (approximately 10 ounces and 10 inches long). Everything continues to look good, which we are so grateful for. Because of my history of PCOS, the doctors will be having me perform the 24-hour urine test this week and will continue to keep a close eye on my blood pressure. (The PCOS predisposes me to gestational diabetes and preeclampsia, so I am glad to have them keeping such close tabs on me and the baby.)

Because Baby wasn't being the most cooperative, the take-home pictures from our ultrasound were pretty limited this time around, but here are the two 3-D shots we got of Baby DeBo's face:

And, lastly, here is my 20-week belly shot (I definitely see a difference from two weeks ago this time around!):

I can't believe we're already half-way there!

-Em

18-week Belly Shot

drewnem — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 19:47:25 -0400

Well...I'm not sure I see a huge difference in the size of my "bump" now and back at 15 weeks...but I certainly do feel a difference. I've accidentally bumped into things with my belly quite a bit this past week, especially, not realizing my girth. The "tight" feeling in my belly has also been leading me to rub lotion into it a lot, which I know is probably due to the growth spurt that the doctors told me would take place between 16 and 20 weeks. It'll be interesting to see if there is a more discernible difference to the bump in a couple more weeks.

A friend asked me earlier this week if I'm still feeling overwhelmingly blessed with this pregnancy, or if I'm starting to have complaints.

The answer is yes.

Every day, I'm definitely still in awe of the gift of life with which I've been blessed. Seeing and feeling Baby DeBo grow inside of me is the greatest experience of my life, truly. Sure, I still have my moments where I'm waiting for the hammer to fall, to receive the seemingly inevitable news of another unhappy ending, to have this wonderful blessing taken away. But luckily, these moments, these thoughts, are fewer and farther between as time goes on. And don't worry: I'm definitely not "wasting" my pregnancy by being afraid all the time. I know that whatever is meant to happen will happen, regardless of whether I'm prepared for it or not.

Even though I feel incredibly blessed, I still have my complaints: the tiredness, the lack of sleep, the having to pee all. the. time. It's funny how those "usual suspects" of typical pregnancy complaints don't take away from my thankfulness and utter happiness in continuing to have a healthy pregnancy. It actually helps me feel normal, rather than guilty, that the two can so easily co-exist.

-Em

16-week Ultrasound

drewnem — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 11:33:31 -0400

This morning we had our 16-week ultrasound at a high risk specialist in Grand Rapids. The Baby wasn't too happy about being interrupted, so it was difficult to get good pictures. The sonographer kept saying, "It's busy" again and again, as an explanation for the Baby's attempts to repeatedly evade the ultrasound device. She switched to "4-D" (a 3-D ultrasound + movement) mode for a bit, but we were only able to see the back of the head today.

The Baby is measuring right on for 16 weeks, and currently weighs 4 oz. My blood pressure is still doing well, and the doctor didn't seem at all concerned about it at this time.

The next ultrasound will be in a month, at 20 weeks, and (if Baby is feeling cooperative) we might be able to find out if it's a boy or girl at that time. And, hopefully, we'll be able to see more on the 4-D ultrasound then as well.

Here are a few pictures from today's ultrasound:

Laying face up, here is the Baby's face profile

Here, the Baby is laying face down, and you can see the head and body (the spine is VERY visible)

Admittedly, this one is a little scary-looking. The Baby is facing us in this picture, and because s/he doesn't have much body fat yet, the face looks a bit skeletal (or alien-like).

Here's the back of the Baby's head and back (you can also see his/her left arm and hand) in 3-D

-Em

15 week belly shots

drewnem — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 10:25:14 -0400

We got off on a pretty slow start with documenting this pregnancy in pictures, so I want to start remedying that now, by taking pictures of my progress every couple of weeks. A friend told me I'd be glad that I have these later on, even if I don't always feel like taking them now. I know she's right.

So, here goes...the first belly shots of this pregnancy, at 15 weeks:

Can I just tell you how scary it is posting a picture of my belly exposed? I wasn't planning on doing those, because I didn't have a particularly pretty belly to begin with, but I got over myself and my fear and just did it. (Deep breaths... )

-Em

Bonding with Baby

drewnem — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 10:01:58 -0400

A few days ago, I decided to order a fetal doppler so that we can listen to Baby DeBo's heartbeat at home. We'd considered ordering a heart monitor earlier, but most of the "standard" ones we'd seen in stores weren't able to detect a heartbeat until approximately 18 weeks, and that seemed a little late in the pregnancy to be buying such a device, especially if I might possibly start feeling fetal movements around that time. Anyway, I had sort of put the idea of purchasing one out of my mind, especially because it's just another expense when there are so many expenses looming on the horizon with a new baby on the way, but I found this one on Amazon.com for a relatively inexpensive price, and it had mostly great reviews from people who were able to detect a heartbeat as early as 11 or 12 weeks, so I just went for it.

I'm so glad I decided to go ahead and order it. I love listening to that gentle "whoosh-whoosh" of the Baby's heartbeat before bedtime: it really relaxes me and gives me some peace of mind when I start worrying about the Baby. I feel like I could just lay there forever and listen to that miraculous sound. Yesterday, as I was listening, I started hearing some of the Baby's movements. It sounded similar to a fish flipping underwater (I'm guessing), and at the exact same time that I heard one of the sounds, I felt two twinges in my lower abdomen. That's right: I think I felt the first movements of our Baby! In retrospect, I'm realizing I might have actually been feeling the Baby move earlier, but having the sounds of movement to match up with the twinges helped confirm that that is indeed what's going on!

I think this will become a daily ritual for Baby and me (with Daddy joining in sometimes, too). If you can't find me, I'll be laying in the bedroom with my headphones on, listening to the sweetest sounding music in the world.

-Em

A Miraculous Journey

drewnem — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:52:49 -0400

Yesterday, I turned 30 years old. Earlier on in my twenties, I remember wondering why women would get so weird about their 30th birthdays, often claiming they were perpetually 29 instead of ever legitimately entering their thirties. "What's the big deal?" I'd think, baffled. "It's only another birthday. And 30 isn't old."

I had no idea how much my perception of age (and of life) would evolve as I worked my way through my twenties...

I was 26 years old when Drew and I started trying to have a baby. I still felt pretty young then--it seemed like a great age to have a baby, in my mid-to-late twenties--and I was definitely ready to be a Mommy. That first year of trying to conceive came and went while I struggled with my "signature" irregular cycles after coming off birth control, which meant few opportunities to "try" for a baby. Around the nine month mark, I went to my OB/GYN to explain my frustrating situation, then walked out of the office with a devastating diagnosis of PCOS, a disorder that I learned, upon further research, made it difficult for women to 1) not only conceive a child, but 2) carry a child to term. A couple of months later, I also officially entered the "infertile" category, which is defined as a couple trying for a year to conceive without success. As you can imagine, I was devastated.

By this time, I was now 27 and feeling pretty bad about myself. My diagnosis and the disorder's effects on my body did little to help my self-esteem. I felt fat, ugly, and (worst of all) worthless and broken. The thing I wanted most in life--to be a Mommy--seemed so far out of reach. I had trouble reconciling with myself that this was indeed the "hand" I was dealt. And, oh yes, I asked the question, "Why me?" again and again. I'm not proud of the way I reacted to my situation at first. I wallowed. I cried. I felt extremely sorry for myself as I continued to see friends and family all around me get pregnant and have babies. I sunk deeper and deeper into my own self-deprecation. "Why do you suck so much, Ember?" I'd think, berating myself. I started thinking about romantic relationships I'd had prior to finding Drew, my soulmate, and I'd think, "Boy are they lucky they didn't end up with ME. Infertile, broken me. Did they ever dodge a bullet!" I uttered the same words to Drew and told him I understood if he wanted to leave me for someone who could give him the children he so desperately wanted. He was angered any time this sort of talk escaped my lips, of course. I did it, anyway. (I was a peach to be around, believe me).

During this time, we were referred to another OB/GYN who specialized in infertility. She ordered a full infertility work-up, including the infamous blood panels that earned me a reputation in the hospital laboratory for second highest amount of vials of blood ever taken at once. I was a rock-star, but never in the way I'd hoped I'd be. We imagine our lives so many different ways...we even seek to plan them (however rude it might be, I literally laugh now when people tell me their very specific plans for their lives...when they'll do this and that...because I know life has a way of showing us who's in charge, and it's certainly not us), but we never include the bad things in our plans and reveries about the future, do we? I soon became known as the infertile girl around my OB\GYN's office, and the nurses recognized and felt sorry for me...not really the kind of attention you want, nor the thing for which you want to be recognized.

Then, while we were in the midst of finding out more about my infertility through all of that testing, we got pregnant with our precious LJ. All of the feeling sorry for myself and attention related to being "the freak" at the doctor's office halted right there in its tracks. We rejoiced. The nurses and doctors there rejoiced with us. I was happy, truly happy, until I was nearly 12 weeks into my pregnancy. And that's when it all came crashing down. When I "came to" into the reality of the situation, to the fact that my baby was dead, I was in a worse place, mentally and emotionally, than I was before I got pregnant. I was sadder than I've ever been. I hated myself even more. And, I missed my baby so much, it hurt to breathe. At the risk of sounding over-dramatic, I wanted to die.

I turned 28 years old a couple of months after my miscarriage, and, for the first time, I truly started to understand the panic and despair some women feel about approaching 30. I felt the big three-oh looming there in front of me--a reminder of the years and heartbreak we'd already spent on our quest to expand our family as well as a loud ticking biological clock, quickening my pulse and making me worry about how long we'd be fighting this battle for a child of our own. I began hearing those stories from friends of friends who knew someone who tried for 10 years to have a baby before giving up. And I'd start to see myself there, as one of those random couples...the ones that nobody never quite knew why they didn't end up having kids. I was scared of becoming those people. We'd wanted a baby for so long, and then, once we finally became pregnant, it was all ripped away from us in the blink of an eye. I started seeing how possible it could be that we'd try for and lose a baby (continuing this horrific cycle) again and again, while months and years of our lives passed us by.

We were cleared for trying again a couple of months after I finished miscarrying, only to find, soon after, that I had an enormous, grapefruit-sized cyst on my left fallopian tube (at first they thought it was on my left ovary). My doctor kept an eye on the cyst through ultrasounds, but finally determined that I'd need laparoscopic surgery to have it removed. A couple of months later, I went under the knife. The surgery was a success, and the doctor was able to do several more invasive procedures while I was anesthetized to further investigate my infertility. They found nothing conclusive, and a month or so after I healed from surgery, we were cleared for trying again.

We stuck mostly to a Clomid and HCG trigger shot regimen for months and months without conceiving. During this period of time, I turned 29 years old. I took on the strategy of trying to largely ignore my birthdays at this point in time, as they all seemed to depress me further. "Another year down," I'd think. "And still no baby. Another year of poking and prodding and drugs that made me feel consistently sick and irrational and just...not myself." What a life! A couple of months after my birthday, the doctor wanted to try something different, and so I went back on some of the medication for PCOS I'd been on a couple of years earlier, in addition to the Clomid/shot regimen each month. The month after I went back on those meds, we found out we were pregnant for a second time. And, then, no more than two weeks later, I miscarried. It all went so fast: Thanksgiving = yay, happy, I'm pregnant. Beginning of December = oops, nevermind, I take it back, this will be one HELL of a shitty Christmas for you folks, SORRY! After it happened, it seemed unreal that we had conceived and lost again. "Why does this keep happening to me?" I kept thinking...pleading. "Please, God, tell me what you need me to do/learn to be granted the blessing of a child." I racked my brain, trying to understand what made me such a lesser person than everyone else I knew. That had to be it, right? All of my friends and family members were allowed to have children because they were better people. I didn't deserve children. I must admit, I still struggle with these irrational thoughts from time to time, but, for the most part, I feel good that I've been able to turn much of my fears and rantings over to a God who is patient and understanding...who loves me in spite of my shortcomings.

A couple of months after being cleared to try again after my second miscarriage, my OB/GYN referred us to a reproductive endocrinologist (RE) in Grand Rapids. As I've written here before, we were a bit overwhelmed at our first appointment (okay, more than that, I DID use the description of "Dr. Soup-Nazi"), but after getting back a bunch of test results and meeting with the doctor a second time, we had really begun to like the take-charge, get-things-done style of our RE. We spent a lot of time talking and praying about this next turn in the road to having a baby, and we finally came to a feeling of peace and agreement in following the doctor's orders for us for a couple of cycles (which was about all we could afford). We went on faith and started our first cycle of Follistim and Ovidrel injectables right before we left for vacation at the beginning of July. Then, wonder of all wonders, on July 19, 2009, we learned we were pregnant for the third time!

Unlike our first two pregnancies, we were slow to get overly excited. We were both truly happy and grateful, of course, when we first saw that positive home pregnancy test, but (as cynical as it may sound) our previous losses had so heavily colored our perceptions that we were no longer naive enough to think that things would probably turn out all right for us. Luckily, that first week brought with it awesome news: the initial HCG quant was high, and 48 hours later, it was confirmed that the HCG levels were more than doubling, indicating a strong and healthy pregnancy. After those initial results, the waiting game began in earnest. We were lucky enough to be brought in for an early ultrasound at six weeks, and as nervous as we both were going in that day, we left the office on cloud nine after seeing and hearing that tiny, strong heartbeat. There is no better feeling in this world than seeing, for yourself, that the child you created with the person you love is alive and well and growing inside of you. There are no words to describe the elation we both felt that day.

Our next ultrasound wasn't for another two weeks, and it's amazing what can happen to a person's psyche during the seemingly insignificant time of 14 days. The elation of that first ultrasound, though still there inside of me, was pushed aside by those old feelings of doubt and anxiety by the end of that first week. I thought about all that could happen between ultrasounds, and waited anxiously for the eight-week ultrasound to come. I prayed, imploring that the precious little life inside of me would continue to flourish. And I prayed for peace of mind to not let the worry overtake me and cause harm to the pregnancy.

Our second ultrasound was much of the same: the baby was healthy and growing furiously, and the heartbeat was as strong as could be. The RE had no concerns whatsoever, besides keeping me on progesterone and baby aspirin to help sustain the pregnancy. He was ready to "graduate" us back to my OB/GYN at that appointment, but we asked if he'd be willing to schedule us for one more ultrasound at 10 weeks, just to ease our minds in the interim while I contacted my OB/GYN office and scheduled my first appointment. We both knew that the first appointment there wouldn't include an ultrasound, and so having one more ultrasound with the RE would enable us to stay with our "two week check-up" schedule we'd become so used to. He agreed, of course, because of our history of losses, and much to our relief, everything looked wonderful at the 10-week ultrasound as well. In fact, that ultrasound ended up being the most exciting one yet! The baby had grown a ton, looking more and more like an actual baby (rather than bean) each day, and we even got to see its little arms and legs move (the Doctor thinks we woke him/her up when he went in with the "wand" -- remember, it's still a transvaginal ultrasound at this point).

I called to make the appointment with my OB/GYN, and when I told the nurse that we were pregnant, she literally whooped and hollered in excitement for us! On the day we went in for my appointment, a couple of the nurses met us at the door and hugged us and congratulated us. (I guess word had spread that we'd be in that day, and the whole office was excited for us.) I started thinking back to the days I'd walk into the office in the midst of glowing, pregnant women--those days when I was well-known as the "infertile girl"--and, in retrospect, I'm okay with the attention I got from being the "odd one out" in those days...especially if it resulted in so many sharing with us in our joy now!

The appointment went fine for the most part, with the only concern being that my blood pressure reading was a bit high. The doctor is going to be really cautious with me during this pregnancy, so she decided to put me on a low dosage of hypertension meds, and I have to monitor my blood pressure on my own at home a couple of times per day.

Then, last Friday, we had a little bit of a scare. I was having quite a bit of cramping, and even though no spotting accompanied it, I was nervous enough to call my doctor's office to get their opinion. The triage nurse collected a bit of additional information about the pain I was having, then called me back and told me that the doctor on call that day (my usual OB was out of town for the weekend) wanted me to go straight to the hospital for an ultrasound. Immediately, as you can imagine, I became a nervous wreck. I don't even remember driving myself to the hospital. How did I see the road through that torrent of tears? I arrived alone and went to the x-ray department. They got me in very quickly, which I was very grateful for, since it was difficult holding in my emotion there in the waiting room. A few moments after the technician began the ultrasound, a call came over the intercom in the room, and Drew popped his head into the ultrasound room a few seconds later. Turns out he drove (way too fast) all the way from work to be there. Luckily, we were able to see right away that the baby was fine. It was actually moving around quite a lot, trying to squirm away from the probing ultrasound (I can't really blame ya, baby, it was uncomfortable for Mama, too, because of the tenderness from the cramping areas). We were able to laugh and ease some of the tension while the technician took a look at my ovaries and measured blood flow there to determine if that is where the pain was coming from. The technician saw a cyst on my left tube (another damn fallopian tube cyst again!) that my RE noticed several weeks back. When it was first seen, the RE said that they were pretty common during pregnancy and usually go down on their own, but this one hadn't seemed to reduce in size at all. Though there is no immediate concern with the cyst, it is something that they'll have to keep a close eye on. It makes my left side pretty tender, and because of the pressure, it is already difficult to lay on my left side for more than several minutes at a time.

We know all too well that the road ahead of us is still a long one, but we are breathing a sigh of relief at having made it through the most risky first trimester. Please continue to keep us in your prayers...that this pregnancy will continue successfully...that this latest cyst will not cause us complications...and, most important of all, that the baby will be healthy.

So, um, would you like to see pictures?

Here is the latest picture of our little miracle from our 12-week ultrasound last Friday:

I also just have to share this second image from our 12-week ultrasound. The baby was moving around like crazy, and the ultrasound technician just happened to catch this one of the baby all sprawled out at just the right time. Every time I look at it, I just laugh! (Also, look closely...do you see anything else interesting in this picture?)

My second trimester (13th week) of pregnancy began this week, and our precious little one is due at the end of March. I can't think of a better 30th birthday present! I feel beyond blessed that this milestone birthday brought with it an abundance of joy, rather than more dread and heartache. Turns out, for us, the third time was a charm!

Thank you, all, for coming along with us on this miraculous, nearly four-year long, journey. I know the road was often dark and difficult to traverse, but we appreciate you sticking it out with us, and rooting and praying for us all along.

Cheers!

Em, Drew, and Our Little Lucky Charm

Miss Mikayla Turns Nine Years Old

drewnem — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 17:56:36 -0400

Last Sunday, we drove down to K'Zoo for our niece Mikayla's 9th birthday. I remember when Drew and I first started dating and Miss M. was just a toddler babbling away...it is amazing how fast all of our nieces and nephews are sprouting up right before our eyes!

We had a great time with the family, as always. Oh, by the way, I mentioned a few weeks ago that Drew's older sister, Luanne, is pregnant with their second child, but I haven't yet mentioned here that Drew's younger sister, Brianne, is pregnant with their fourth child. Looks like we'll have even more nieces and nephews to love very soon! With these two new additions, that should bring us up to a whopping 8 total!

Here are a few pictures from Mikayla's birthday:

Kaitlyn and Uncle "Knucklehead"...two peas in a pod.

Miss Mikayla, opening presents (with Kaitlyn's help).

Uncle Drew and Kiya.

Lucas no longer hides from cameras, he poses and says "Cheese."

It's blurry, but here's Mikayla trying not to laugh in front of her cake while being told (in song) that
she looks like a monkey and smells like one, too.

I swear, every time we're down at Drew's family's, he is enlisted to fix someone's computer or the
myriad other electronics and toys. Here, Lucas admits he didn't know what he was doing with that
screw driver.

-Em

The Strong One

drewnem — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 20:42:25 -0400

“I’m so sorry,” I wrote, though the words, even as they materialized in front of me, seemed paltry…insignificant. I stopped there, trying to pick out the right combination of words to say to her, words that would adequately describe my sorrow for her own personal loss and anguish.

“There’s really not a whole lot to say, is there?” she replied, gracious as always, and more conscious of my own feelings than she should be.

I racked my brain again. My almost-30 years of life experiences brought up nothing appropriate in the cerebral database to use as a condolence. Yes, cancer has touched my life before. Relatives and family friends have struggled and won…or lost. I’ve seen first-hand its unrelenting, ravaging grasp.

But her Mom just died. Her Mom. Died. She fought hard…for five years. On Sunday night, she lost the fight.

And I have no words for her. I can cry for her. I can wish to be there for her. Mostly, though, I am in awe of her. She has been the strong one for her family through all of this. She has held it together so many times, allowing the others to fall apart.

“She’s at peace now,” are the only words that come to mind besides “I’m sorry.” My hope is that one day she will be, too.

Dear BB

drewnem — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 14:40:28 -0400

Dear BB,

Tomorrow--August 10, 2009--was your due date. It's amazing how clearly I can remember these important dates for my lost babies--and how hard they seem to hit me when they finally arrive. Like your sister LJ, your Daddy and I will be forever saddened that we were unable to meet you. We regret that we missed seeing you grow inside my belly week by week. We know that you are now safe and happy and whole in heaven, being taken care of by other family members we also love and miss deeply, but...we still miss you, just the same.

I remember those very first feelings of wonder and thankfulness knowing you were there inside me; I remember the dates and events and emotions so clearly from last November. It had been another year and a half since we'd lost LJ, and we were beginning to think another pregnancy was out of reach. When we saw our miraculous positive home pregnancy test, neither your Daddy nor I could hold back the tears of joy.

We were immediately filled with both utter happiness and absolute trepidation, all at once. For us, we realize now, a positive pregnancy test will always be accompanied by a complex set of emotions. For every life we create, we feel hopeful and grateful, but we also fear another loss of life so strongly that that singular joy will always be somewhat muddled. I wish it didn't have to be that way, but our circumstances sort of determine our thoughts and actions in life, don't they?

I remember the pure elation I felt at the confirmation of your existence when the doctor called with your HCG quantatative blood test results, and I remember that fateful, hesitantly worried call several days later when your HCG levels did not continue to rise as they should. We knew right then that we would lose you, and the only thing left to do was wait...and say good-bye. The tears of joy we had cried days before were overtaken then by a torrent of heart-break that flooded our entire consciousness.

Little One, you were a part of our lives for such a short time, but you will always be a huge part of our family...taking up a huge spot in our hearts.

We'll miss you and love you forever,

Mommy and Daddy

But, At Least He's MY Geek :)

drewnem — Sat, 25 Jul 2009 22:11:23 -0400

So, um, yeah...just the usual Saturday night activities around here...

Drew taking laptops apart just for giggles and putting them back together...

Living with a Computer Engineer: it's always a party!

-Em

Our Whirlwind "Out West" Vacation, Part 3

drewnem — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 19:04:16 -0400

After the reunion on Sunday, we (including some of the cousins, second cousins, and an aunt and uncle) all went back to the hotel and went swimming in the pool. The kids (and most of the adults, too) stayed in the water until pooped, then we went our own ways for dinner, depending on what sounded good. My parents retired rather early that night, and then Blaise/Nicole, Phil/Abbi, and Drew/me stayed up outside of Blaise and Nicole's room (where the boys were sleeping) talking.

Monday morning was Drew's 30th Birthday. We said good-bye to Phil and Abbi that day, as they weren't accompanying us to Colorado, then after breakfast and checking out of the hotel, the rest of us got back on the road. We stopped about an hour into the drive in Kearney, Nebraska, where we lived for three years before moving to Earlville, Illinois. I went to 6th, 7th, and 8th grades in Kearney. We drive by our old house, schools, and church before splitting up. Dad and Mom wanted to take the back roads from there to my Grandma's grave site. Drew and I decided to continue to caravan with Blaise and Nicole and the boys, saying that we'd visit the grave on our trip home from Colorado a couple days later.

It was another pretty long day in the car, but once we were a ways into Colorado, it was pretty cool to see the mountains off in the distance. We checked into our hotel rooms in Brighton, Colorado (right outside of Denver), then waited for my parents to show up before going to dinner. The boys swam in the hotel pool again that night before we all retired.

The sky after dinner that night

We met for breakfast the next morning, then said our good-byes to my parents and brother's family. They were heading further west into Colorado to see some of my Dad's side of the family that day after stopping in Breckenridge. Drew and I decided we wanted to spend the rest of the brief time we had in that area, heading up to Estes Park and seeing a bit more of the Rocky Mountains. It was sad to say good-bye to everyone.

After going our separate ways, we took the scenic drive up to Estes Park, a touristy town near the foot of Rocky Mountain National Park. Here are a few pictures from that day:

The Rocky Mountains

A statue on the road leading to Estes Park

From the car, heading toward the mountains (obviously )

On the windy mountain road

Just outside Estes Park

Mmmm...our very own cupful of roasted garlic for lunch in Estes Park. Potent!

After spending the day being tourists, we headed back to our hotel room in Brighton and had a low-key evening. We had a sushi dinner and fell asleep watching re-runs of NCIS.

The next morning we started the two day drive back home. We stopped in Haxtun, Colorado that morning at my Grandma Sullivan's grave site, and my Grandpa Sullivan (who died before I was born) and their only daughter Lorraine Jodell (who was born on my birthday 48 years before me and died at only six months old) are buried there, too. It was very emotional to re-visit the grave site, which I hadn't been to since my Grandma's funeral when I was nine years old. I introduced them to Drew, and even he couldn't hold back his tears. We thanked them for looking after our precious angel babies there in heaven. It was a beautifully clear, sunny day, and I felt an overwhelming sense of peace just being there, talking to my Grandma especially, who I was very close to. Another "coincidence" I didn't notice until just recently: Lorraine Jodell...LJ. Both my Grandma and I lost babies with the same initials.

After saying our good-byes at the cemetery, we drove all the way through Nebraska and as far as Des Moines, Iowa, before stopping for the night. I was mesmerized by the hundreds of wind turbines an hour or so outside of Des Moines.

After checking into our hotel, we went to the restaurant attached to it for dinner, and we saw a classic car show taking place outside. After eating, we went and took a look at all of the restored cars. I didn't take any pictures, but it was really cool. There were more Corvettes represented there than any other vehicle, so Drew wasn't one bit disappointed.

The next day we finished the drive through the rest of Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, and home to Michigan. We picked up the girls at the vet's office (where we board them), and both Molly and Sammy earned excellent "report cards" during their stay. Despite winning over their caretakers in our absence, I think they were both pretty happy to see us...that is, until we got them home and they realized it was bath time!

-Em

Our Whirlwind "Out West" Vacation, Part 2

drewnem — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 20:55:01 -0400

Saturday morning (the 4th of July), we all met for breakfast at the hotel in KC, then checked out and got back on the road to pay a visit to my Grandma and Grandpa in Concordia, KS. During our drive, we stopped in Salina, KS, the first place my family lived that I actually have memories of, and while we were there, we took a peek at our old house. When we moved from KS to NY, my parents sold our house there to people who planned to turn it into a daycare center, and it's still a daycare to this day. I was five years old when we moved away. The house seemed much bigger to me back then; it was interesting to see it now, from an adult's perspective. Blaise and I joked about how the walk with Mom down to the gas station on the corner for candy used to seem like quite a long trek when we were just tots. Really, it was just a couple houses down from us!

After lunch in Salina, we finished the drive to my grandparents' apartment. The 10 of us all squeezed into their tiny place and visited for about an hour. I was pretty impressed that my Grandpa Leo remembered Drew's name after only having met him once three or four years ago. Unfortunately, my Grandma (who has Alzheimer's) didn't seem to know who any of us were. We were all prepared for this, but it is still difficult to witness. My Mom sat next to her the whole time holding her hand as she interjected bits of conversation that had nothing to do with the actual conversation taking place. Her only moments of clarity seem to be centered on their little dog, Angel, and when Alex and Conor would do something that caught her attention. She seemed tickled by the "one in yellow" (Conor) who started getting a little feisty with his brother toward the end of the visit. She would just chuckle and make comments about his antics. That was kinda cute.

After our short visit, we hopped back into the cars and completed the drive to Grand Island, NE (the town my Mom grew up in, parents met in, and the majority of my Mom's side of the family still lives in). The reunion with them was scheduled for the next day, so once we arrived at the hotel, we had the rest of the night to relax. We had dinner at the hotel restaurant and ventured outside eventually as it appeared that pretty much all of the guests at the hotel had brought along an impressive array of fireworks to set off. We watched the amateur show, caught a good portion of the professional show above the treetops, and watched Conor do his "fireworks dance."

The next morning, several of us went to breakfast with my parents, then I came back to the hotel to fit in a work-out with Nicole. It was great spending a little one-on-one time with Nicole, and it reminded me how much I miss having a work-out partner. I also wish we lived closer to Blaise and Nicole. As far as sisters in law go, she's pretty darn cool.

After showering and getting ready, we all caravaned over to the family reunion further into town. I saw aunts, uncles, cousins, and second cousins I haven't seen in many, many years. My Grandma and Grandpa also made the trip up from Kansas for the day, so we were able to spend a bit more time with them. I sat next to Grandma and held her hand this time, and though I know she probably still didn't realize who I am, I sensed her becoming comfortable with my presence next to to her, and she started telling me "secrets" as they popped into her head.

Here are a few pictures from the reunion (we also celebrated my Grandma and Grandpa's 25th Wedding Anniversary...for those of you who don't know, my Grandpa Leo isn't my biological Grandpa--he and my Mom's Mom were married when I was 5--but he is the only grandpa I've ever known).

My Mom and Grandma

Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa Leo

My Cousin Amy, Mom, and Grandma

Sister-in-law Nicole, Phil's girlfriend Abbi, and Brother Phil

Drew

All the second cousins

The cousins (I think only my sister Becky was missing)

The third and final installment of our trip will be coming soon...

-Em

Our Whirlwind "Out West" Vacation, Part 1

drewnem — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 13:50:55 -0400

Right before the 4th of July, we left for a week-long vacation to Kansas, Nebraska, and Colorado. As you already know, we had to pack up all of my injections to take with us, so I must admit I was a little nervous about how I'd feel during our trip. Luckily, the injections away from home went smoothly, and I felt mostly fine for the trip. Phew!

On Thursday, after work, we drove part-way to Kansas City, Missouri. Friday, we completed the trip to KC, and checked into our hotel there about an hour before my Dad and Mom; Blaise, Nicole, Alex, and Conor; and Phil and Abbi arrived in their caravan from North Dakota. Then, we all drove the few miles down the road to Kauffman Stadium for a KC Royals vs. White Sox baseball game. Unfortunately, the Royals lost that night, but I think we all enjoyed the game, walking around the stadium, and the fireworks afterward. Dollar hotdogs and pop didn't hurt, either.

Alex and Drew

Conor swinging his souvenir bat

Alex and Conor (Conor sat next to a couple Sox fans and kept calling their team the "Stinky Sox" ha!)

The fam: Phil (didn't make it in the pic), Abbi, Mom, Dad, Alex, Nicole, Blaise, and Conor. We were
definitely in the "nose-bleed" section, but at least we got our exercise going up and down the stairs!

Abbi and Nicole

Blaise and Conor

Alex and Conor playing "Ring Around Uncle Drew"

Fountains lit up at night

Fireworks after the game

Stayed tuned for more about the rest of the trip...

-Em

Two Years Later

drewnem — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 20:26:02 -0400

It's hard to believe that tomorrow it's been two years since that horrible day: Friday, July 13, 2007. I've never been fond of Fridays that land on the 13th day of the month, but, of course, our first ultrasound for our first baby would fall on that date. I tried not to be superstitious, but that morning I felt scared and subdued as your Daddy touched my belly and talked about seeing you. I wanted so much to share his excitement, but something inside me held back a bit. I can remember that day so clearly--it has played back in my head like a movie more times than I care to recall. In fact, I've tried to push the vivid images out of my mind when they come back to haunt me, perhaps not as often as they once did, popping into my stream of consciousness (usually at inopportune times), or awakening me at night--the worst type of nightmare...one that came true. I remember the silence, the sobs, the screams, the stares. I remember it all as if it were yesterday, and the punch in the gut still takes the breath right out of my lungs.

I don't know that a mother ever gets over the loss of a child. Naturally, the rawness of the emotions have subsided with time, though some days will transport me right back to my personal hell. I am forever changed from having had you for a brief time, LJ, and for having loved you so deeply and purely. And I am forever changed from having lost you, for experiencing that particular kind of unfathomable anguish.

Today, LJ, I want to say thank you for the way in which you've changed me. Two years later, and I see some of my changes more clearly. I know that some might argue that the change in me is not all for the better, and that is okay. I don't really expect everyone to understand it, to understand me. It's so hard to put yourself in another's place, isn't it? We're all different, have different experiences, trials, and triumphs, and each minute detail helps shape the people we become. In many ways, I've become more introverted. I have noticed that I am more careful with my heart. Although I like to believe that every time a heart is broken, it grows back stronger, larger, it is never easy to open it back up for the pain associated with heartbreak. I keep to myself a bit more. I'm sure I'm a bit guarded. I do try to be open and honest with what I write here, but I try to be careful, too. I've felt how much the words of another can hurt, and so I find myself sharing less than I once did. It's hard to explain how I've changed. I'm just different. But, in many ways, I feel like I've become more "me" than I have been in many years...that I've reverted back to the essence of who I once was and perhaps strayed from for a time.

I never would've chosen this path for myself--to struggle to conceive a child in the first place, then lose the two precious babies we were blessed with. No one would choose that pain. But again, with time, I am beginning to see what living through such losses has done for me. Perhaps I wasn't as compassionate or empathetic as I needed to be to others. Perhaps someone who reads my blog has learned something from my experiences and will know how to better approach a friend or family member who experiences a similar horror. These thoughts are just a couple of ideas that have stuck with me during my time spent in self-reflection.

You see, although I keep myself pretty busy with work, I have a lot of time on my hands to do just that: think...reflect. Work is surface activity, and it can only take you so far. Even when you're completely caught up with work (which I never seem to be), you don't feel the satisfaction I'd imagine you'd feel by just being surrounded by the presence of your children. The feeling catches up with me easily; I keep myself busy, but behind all the busyness, I still feel empty. I miss my LJ and BB. I think about the 18-month old toddler LJ would now be. I think about how much messier yet full of life our house would be. I think about how frazzled and sleep-deprived I'd be. And I'd trade all of the "peace" and "couple time" and bit of extra spending money in our pockets in a second if I could see LJ now, read her a story at bedtime, play the piano and sing to her, even wipe the sticky strawberry juice from her chubby cheeks and fingers. And BB, who would've been due to join us outside the womb in less than a month, we'd talk to BB in my belly and await with anticipation LJ's brother's or sister's arrival. I'd give anything to be able to have these moments with my babies.

If I had to guess, I would admit that the lesson that I needed to learn most of all was to let go of my "sense" of being in control. Perhaps I merely needed to learn to plan less, to realize that this life is really out of my hands, and that I can only do the best I can with what I'm given. As I've written before, my life leading up to this point did little to help teach me this lesson. I became accustomed to thinking that planning, hard work, and dedication will produce the intended or desired results. I was used to achieving what I set out to do, and I'm sure I probably became a little self-righteous when I got what I wanted "all on my own": the grades, the job, the guy, the house, the cars...all of the things in life that I once imagined proved to the world that I was successful. Little did I know that true success is measured via an entirely different system. And that nothing that I've received in life was achieved "on my own." It is only by grace that I've been given the blessings in my life. And success isn't what you do for a living, or how much money you make, or what house you live in, or what "toys" you have. We've been richly blessed in these particular areas, but I would give any and all of it up in a second for another day with the babies I lost. Success is happiness. Success is family. Success is the simple things in life. Success is sticky fingers making a mess on your newly painted walls...because those little sticky fingers are a miracle.

LJ and BB, I visited your Great-Grandmother Beatrice's grave site while we were in Colorado last week, and as I talked to her through my tears, I thanked her for taking care of you both for me. Give her a big kiss for me, okay?

Oh my beautiful babies, I miss you every day. Thank you for the lessons you have helped teach me and I'm sure will continue to teach me, just by being a part of my life.

Love Always,
Mama

Another Ultrasound and Leaving on Vacation

drewnem — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 13:16:22 -0400

This morning we had a follow-up ultrasound to Monday's.On Monday, my largest (dominant) follicle was at 10 mm; today, after three days of increased dosages of my Follistim injections, that same follicle was at 12 mm (and the other ones that were seen were small enough for the nurse to speculate that there isn't much of a chance for any of them to fully develop). I have to admit, I was a little disappointed with the dominant follicle's growth since Monday. A follicle is considered "mature" once it's reached a minimum of 15-16 mm, so this one little egg has a bit to go before we'll be ready for our Ovidrel "trigger" shot to help it release. The nurse who performed the ultrasound told me not to be too discouraged, however, because, oftentimes, slow-growing eggs are of higher quality. So, I'm putting a lot of hope into this one little egg (trying to remember that it only takes one!) and hoping that slow and steady wins the race!

The nurse and doctor know we'll be on vacation next week, so they're going to call me this afternoon with our plan of attack for the next several days. Obviously, since we'll be out of town, we won't be able to go in for another ultrasound to monitor our progress (in some ways, though, that is a relief, as we've already spent $500 on ultrasounds ALONE this week...that's not including the cost of meds). So, the doctor is going to recommend the dosage of Follistim for the next few days and when (his guesstimate) we need to inject the Ovidrel trigger shot. We have all of the shots packed up in a cooler, with alcohol wipes and our sharps container for needle disposal, along with us for the trip "out west." You really have to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, us traveling with all these needles, otherwise you'll just cry at how pathetic it seems!

Again, please keep us in your thoughts and prayers. We're still hoping that we have a chance for this cycle, but I'm trying to remember that if this one doesn't work out, we'll be better prepared for dosages, etc. next time around. It'll all be okay one way or another, right?

Now, we're just a few hours away from getting on the road to head out to Kansas. Tomorrow, we meet my parents, Blaise/Nicole/Alex/Conor, and Phil and Abbi in Kansas City for a KC Royals vs. Chicago White Sox baseball game that night. It's been years since I've been to Kauffman Stadium, so that should be fun. I'm mostly just really excited to see my family, since a year (or more) can easily go by without seeing one another (one of the drawbacks of all of us being spread out around the country). Saturday, the 4th, we drive up through Kansas to visit my Grandma and Grandpa, then continue on to Grand Island, NE for a family reunion with my Mom's side on Sunday. Monday is Drew's 30th birthday, and (gasp!) we haven't quite decided what we're doing with the rest of our week from there. I am a planner by nature, so I have to admit, the uncertainty is driving me nuts! We had originally planned to go on to Colorado to visit Rocky Mountain National Park and Estes Park, at least, but we'll have to see. With the recent medical expenses, our vacation fund as dwindled a little. Still, I'm hoping to convince Drew to go for at least a couple of days. I'm dying to make good use of the 70-300mm lens for my Nikon D50 that Becky sold to me a few weeks ago!

Hope everyone has a great 4th of July and fun holiday weekend,

-Em

On the Fertility Front...

drewnem — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 22:50:10 -0400

It's been a while since I posted an update on what's going on with us, fertility-wise. Last I mentioned, we were waiting on the final set of results from the tests ordered by our Reproductive Endocrinologist to determine if there is a discernible cause for my recurrent miscarriages.

The chromosomal tests both Drew and I took were the last piece of the puzzle, and after waiting several weeks for the results, those too came back normal. What great news!

We had a follow-up appointment with the doctor last week to discuss the results and whether or not we would like to move forward with any assisted reproductive therapy, and it was a much different experience from the first time around. I wonder if he could sense that we were pretty much ready to throw in the towel on all of the testing, meds, and invasive rigmarole. I wonder if early morning appointments are just bound to be more productive, because everyone is fresh and less frazzled than they are by late afternoon. I wonder if he could see that, with every word I spoke, I tried not to let the tears spill over from exhaustion, frustration, and sadness. Whatever the reason, the doctor was patient with us. He explained that although they couldn't find any particular reason that I continue to miscarry in their testing, his hunch is that my PCOS and the resultant hormonal craziness and erratic cycles makes for eggs that are, in general, of poorer quality. That's not to say that I'm not capable of producing decent eggs. It just sounds like, when the hormones aren't working together in just the right way (it's such a fragile system that if one thing is "off," it affects a whole slew of other things down the line), an egg might not mature quite as much as it could have, and even if the egg becomes fertilized, it has less of a chance of being a viable pregnancy because the conditions weren't quite right. It also leads to the lower progesterone levels both of my doctors have noted, which have also been shown to lead to miscarriages.

With those things in mind, the doctor's recommendation was for us to move forward with the Follistim (FSH) injectables cycle we discussed during our first consultation. I shared my reservations about starting down this path a while back, but I must say that after learning more about this particular practice's philosophies and policies (our doctor himself wrote an article for the clinic's newsletter that addressed the controversy over the "Octo-Mom" situation and explained how and why that situation would never occur there, partly because of his own affiliation with a Christian fertility organization), he really set us at ease.

After hours of discussion and praying for direction, the decision seemed to almost make itself as we sat and spoke with the doctor. After hearing his recommendation, I felt very strongly in my heart (much to my surprise) that moving forward with his suggested regimen was the right thing to do. I was instantly nervous, however, as Drew and I had not gone into the appointment with this potential shift in directions having been discussed ahead of time. But when I looked over at Drew to try to gauge his reaction and thoughts, he was already five steps ahead of me. While he was the one completely overwhelmed during our first appointment with the fertility specialist (formerly known as, and unfairly named "Dr. Soup-Nazi" by me), this time, he was the one barreling forward. He was already discussing dosages of the medication and planning things out in his head.

A smile crept onto my lips. I felt like I could burst with happiness! We were both on the same page, and we both wanted to do everything in our power to give this a shot! It was going to cost us a lot of money, sure, but now was the time. We may only be able to afford a couple cycles, but we had to give this a try...

And, so, here we are. We started the Follistim injections last week, Wednesday. Drew has done a great job giving me a shot in the stomach every night, and I have even gotten used to the shots themselves (if not so much the bloating, headaches, and hot flashes). I had a follow-up ultrasound this morning, and though I don't have any follicles that are yet considered "mature," we increased the injection dosage for the next three days, and I'll go back in for another ultrasound Thursday morning to see if any of the follicles have made progress. Once we have at least one that looks promising, we'll do an Ovidrel (HCG) "trigger" shot to finish the final maturation of the follicle and "encourage" the egg(s) to release.

Please, keep us in your thoughts and prayers over the next few weeks. Despite the intense regimen, we are both feeling hopeful right now. It feels good to truly feel like we're doing all we can to help our chances of conceiving and having it be a successful (viable) pregnancy. At least, if we get to the end of what we can afford and haven't been successful, we won't have to wonder "What if?...."

-Em

Drew's Surprise

drewnem — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 23:04:45 -0400

Today, Drew got a big surprise. My Baby turns 30 on July 6th, but we'll be on vacation with my family at that time, so Drew's family came up from K'Zoo to celebrate with us today. But Drew didn't know about it. You see, Drew's Dad had decided a while ago that he wanted to give Drew his 1969 Stingray Corvette for his 30th Birthday. So, Drew's Mom called me, and we set up a little surprise. What makes the gift even more special is that Drew's Dad first became the owner of the car on his own 30th Birthday. How neat is that?

So today, he passed on the only "toy" he's had for more than 30 years to his (soon-to-be) 30-year-old son. *tear* Drew was really moved by the gesture and absolutely thrilled. The car is in drivable shape right now, but it will need quite a bit of work in the not-so-distant future. Good thing Drew likes projects!

We had a great time today celebrating with Drew's parents, sisters, and their families. The nieces and nephew kept us entertained as always (they even performed their own rendition of the Cupid Shuffle for us...I have a video that I'll need to post, so check back). Drew also gave the four young'uns a ride in the Jeep, and they all loved it...squealing the whole way. We had a yummy lunch, ate cake and ice cream, and Drew also opened his "other" presents: a Corvette hat and shirt, a couple manuals (which will be helpful once the restoration begins), new floor mats, and a personalized keychain that says "Drew's Dream."

I hope you had the best Birthday ever, Baby (even if it was celebrated a little early)! Love you!

Here's a bunch more pictures from today.

--

***And here's that video of the little ones dancing, as promised. Soon, we'll have a 5th niece or nephew on Drew's side to add to the clan...congrats Luanne and Tim on your baby-to-be and Lucas on your brother- or sister-to-be!

-Em

To My Husband, the Daddy

drewnem — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 10:37:45 -0400

Afterwards, I went back to bed…too scared to sit and wait for the result myself. He checked the test for me. Negative, again. He broke the bad news to me gently, held me, said he was sorry. Inside, all I could think was, “No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve failed again at making you a Father. I so wanted to have a special present for you this Father’s Day.”

He responded to my thoughts before I could even utter them aloud.

“As far as I'm concerned, we've got two beautiful children waiting for us in heaven, and in my mind, they are the best kids ever. They may not be with us physically, but I'm still fortunate to have had even the few weeks we did with each of them. So, I am a Daddy and you are a Mommy to our two beautiful kids, and we are good parents because we still love them, always will…”

He had to stop then, as the tears came.

This weekend, I want to wish you a Happy Father’s Day, Drew. Even on this day when it feels impossible to be happy.

Thank you for loving us so deeply,

Mama, LJ, and BB (and Molly and Sammy, too)