Pregnant Again: Symptoms, Story, and Ultrasounds

On February 27th, after 5 days of testing entirely too early, there it was. The faintest of faint lines. Shaking, I immediately showed Mr. Man. “I think I see it!”. At least 65 more pregnancy tests, 10 blood draws, and 3 ultrasounds later, here we are. Today, I am 8 weeks and 4 days pregnant. We have named our newest little one Squirtle. Did I do anything different? My plan was to take it easy. I was basically out of ovulation tests (I[Read more]

3 Ways Miscarriages Changed My Marriage

The moment I saw those two lines for the very first time. It hit me. Love. Waves of love. I would have died for my child then and there. I didn’t need to meet them. I didn’t need to know who they would be or what they would accomplish. That was my baby, my child. The one we had dreamed about, prayed for. It isn’t the same moment for everyone, but for us, it was immediate.

Our New Normal, the Nursery Box, and Other Updates

Today is one month since Button was born. Mr. Man is the only person who’s noticed. For everyone else, life has carried on. His death was just a blip, a bump in the road. February is a new month! There are other things to be excited about. Be happy.  I tried, really, I did. I failed. Yesterday I took a pregnancy test. There was a smudge of a line. I’m now pretty sure it was a dye run. We bought[Read more]

Don’t Offer Me Your Kid

Don't Offer Me Your Kid

People can say a lot of stupid things, especially when they’re uncomfortable. Fertility struggles, grief, real life makes people uncomfortable, I get it. Here’s some common “I don’t know what to do with my hands” word vomit that you should really avoid saying. This post is marinated in some very pungent snark, so mind your toes. “You’ll get pregnant again.” And? My child died. There is no replacement. I hope and pray every single day we will get our rainbow, but[Read more]

Dealing with Anger without Regret

Something hit me yesterday. Okay, two things hit me. One was a cat falling on my face at 5 in the morning. He apparently thought he could fit on our headboard, or he might just be a jerk. I’m pretty sure he’s just a jerk. But let’s talk about that other thing. The one that managed to catch me more by surprise than Mr. Thinks-he’s-still-tiny Elliot: anger. Not just damn cat falling on my face at 5 in the morning but real, deep,[Read more]