We Like To Party.

I know that having a big one year old party is kind of pointless. Your child is not going to recall any of it. That's why a one year old party is and should be nothing but a celebration for the parents making it through a year of complete unknown territory and having a happy thriving child at the end of it right? Right! We don't get the opportunity to host parties as often as I'd like (#restaurantlife) so when we do-we love to throw a good one and have the perfect space to do so! A lot of hard work went into this party and I feel sorry for those that had to deal with my all my ideas (Seneca Hope this is for you kid) but the ending result was perfect and incredibly memorable so documentation of this great event is a must. 






Most stressful part of a party? The theme. I'm not one for the total babyish ideas…not that there is anything wrong with babyish things I mean because after all the party is for a baby but I just prefer to go a little different route. That route I ended up being drawn to was a vintage travel theme- Nico being a world traveler and all I thought it was an appropriate direction to go. ;-)

The main attraction (besides this kid->) was the cake table with cloud lanterns and an airplane suspending above it. Along with giant "Nico" balloons. Of course there was an overload of balloons (which I never got a picture of-dang it) because who doesn't love balloons and is it really even a party without them? Thank you to my sister and sister in law Christina for helping with the set up and decorating!

I had a bunch of other grand ideas for decorating but last minute it did not work out. I'll save you all the boring details but I could have either chosen to have a panic attack over my ideas never transpiring or calmly realize no one (except my sister) knew the extent of my over the top of ideas and just let it go. I wisely chose the latter. Although my friend Karen totally saved me without even knowing at the time she saved me. She put together the cutest little slide show for me the day of the party. Now that is a friend! My sister hacked a way to have it on permanent repeat so I popped it up on the iPad and put it in a shadow box and it looked like I really had my crap together! Enjoy it below (or here if the preview doesn't work on some mobile devices). Thank you Karen!

In true Italian style our food was not the average one year old birthday party fare. Unfortunately, it was eleven pm before I realized I only had 3 mere bites of the fabulous food because I just do not know how to be the relaxed hostess with the mostess. I'm the slightly crazed making sure everyone is taken care of one. And you'd really assume we would know how to plan the appropriate amount of food for the number of guest we entertained. Wrong. According to some of them they took enough leftovers home to feed them the rest of the week. A special shout out and a big thank you to my husband and mother-in-law for spending their day off in the kitchen preparing this great meal! 

Dessert consisted of beautiful cloud-like cupcakes and a giant cupcake smash cake. We also had an array of homemade Italian desserts from Fannita's Bakery-and not one single of these Italian treats were left! 

A NiNi Cupcake? All of Grace's favorite things in one! 

I think most of you caught the big sing off but in case you didn't here is where it is posted-it's just too cute not to share! 

https://instagram.com/p/8wu1PnJN3q/?taken-by=jlove0623

He LOVED the attention and clapped along and after we blew out the candles he figured out if he clapped then everyone else would start clapping after him. He did this about 5 times while his monkeys (all of us) played along.

My amazing sister made an amazing milestone chart that we printed poster size to display as well.

Since I never did an "official" 12 month post I thought I'd quick throw in some additional milestones that our big boy is up to! Well, he is wearing mostly 18 month old clothing and wearing a size 5 shoe. He has 4 chompers. He knows how to use his fork like a pro. He says "duck" and pronounces the "D" so well that I'm sure it won't be mistaken for another 4 letter word. He makes kissing noises. He's obsessed with pears to the point if his father walks past the pear trees without picking one for him there may be tears. Speaking of tears-Nico threw his first fit at Target over a cheap plastic cart-so his TT bought him a real metal baby cart for his birthday which now he is crazy over. He is almost walking but we are smart enough not to rush it. He loves to say "no" and has multiple varying tones of the word. Nico loves to dance and loves his Kindermusik class. And he's the kid that is going around hugging and kissing everyone else in class. This is where I explain to the rest of the parents-"He's Italian. We hug and kiss a lot." He points to his nose and ears and eyes but only when he wants to. Nico also has learned how to bite-which I blame on his dad. But truth be told I'm known to bite when I get excited too. And most of all he is the answer to my prayers. 

Thank you to all of our family (including our Luigi Family) that were able to come and help celebrate our special boy. He is so blessed and so are we. 

Credits:
Invites, Milestone Poster, Menu, Banners, King Hat, Bow Tie, Clouds and basically the creative effort behind all my ideas- Seneca Avina (She Freelances Folks! Contact her for any of your needs!)
1 Year Old Photos - Karen Ann Photography - Make sure to "Like" her FB page too for more gorgeous photos!
Nico's Blue Vest & Pants Set Outfit- Caterina Bimbi Carini
Nico's "Drink The Wild Air" Outfit- Crowns and Coroknits
Smash Cake & Cupcakes- Bakery On State
Italian Desserts- Fannita Bakery
Personalized Cupcake Décor- Tailored Decor 
Airplane Bottle Openers Party Favors- Kate Aspen
Party Photographs- Nycz Photography and other friends that supplied pictures!
Venue- Luigi's Italian Restaurant

In my next life I want to be a party planner and photography prop coordinator (Is that such thing? Now it is).

Now on to those Thank You cards…...

XO. 

JLOVE AKA "Mommy"

Birth Day Tribute

I totally give you credit if you are still with me! That last post was really long and pretty emotionally heavy. So lets see if I can now make you cry happy tears with me...

The day before I was admitted to the hospital (October 9th) I woke up and had a small little “leakage” problem when I got out of bed. I got a little like, “Whoa what was that?” but after getting up nothing else happened. I had some light cramping and I debated whether or not I should stay home and rest being that I was so close to my due date and if something happened (see how that fear followed me?) but I decided to keep leaning on my faith that everything would be just fine and continue on with my day. My day being a whole laundry list of work tasks to complete. Now anyone who knows the work "me" knows that I do.not.mess.around. I was bound and determined to work up to my due date and had a very specific to do list to complete before the 14th rolled around. So off to work I went. I was heading up to one of my schools in Green Bay and thought if I went into labor at least I'd be really close to Baycare and my husband could just meet me there. The rest of that morning was uneventful and knocked a bunch  off of my to do list. I returned to my office and went to the bathroom and experienced another small little leak. I figured I better call my OB and see what he thought-I told them what was going on and they said I probably should come in to be evaluated.  Having just gotten back from Green Bay I didn't really want to head back up there (at almost 40 weeks pregnant you don't want to do a damn thing) so they told me to go lay down and if I experienced anymore "leaking" that I probably should come back to be seen. I did what I was told (I'm a role model patient) and once again nothing else happened. My husband and I went and enjoyed what I now like to refer to as "The Last Dinner" with some friends that evening and then we debated whether or not to go see Gone Girl at the theater-but I figured we could do that over the weekend instead. We got home and went to bed and when I awoke the next morning (October 10th) I experienced even more leakage. And this time it was a little bigger leak than before. Since this was a Friday I figured I better (once again for the 1024320th time during the last 2 years) call my OB. The nurse kinda laughed and said, "You really want to come in don't you?" I told her I felt it was for the best since it was going to be the weekend and I rather go the safe than sorry route. Her knowing my paranoia agreed and they made me an appointment for a little later that morning. I told my husband that I didn't need him to come with me because it was probably not time since chances were I was overreacting. He told me he was coming and asked if I should grab our bags. I said no that we would be back home...AKA the start of my denial. 

We arrive to the hospital and I see a familiar sweet face. An acquaintance (that shall remain unnamed) that we know who is currently going through med school. We exchanged hellos and she filled us in on her current rotation as well as the doctor she was working with that day. My doctor. I get roomed they ask me if it's alright if a med student comes in for the exam. I figured what the hell-I'm due to give birth any day and from what I hear you lose any and all dignity so I might as well just start the process now. Doctor and unnamed acquaintance comes in and my doctor does a pelvic exam and then pulls out some little pH strip that I think he bought at the pool store and when I see it-it magically turned a different color. He says, "Well your water has broken." Um what? Excuse me? "And it's probably been broken since yesterday when you experienced your first leaking issue but then your baby's head probably moved down and created a seal which is why you're only experiencing the leaking after you get out of bed. (Seeing Nico's big melon I now understand). So we are going to send you over to labor and delivery now. Me-"For what?" Doctor-"To have your baby." Laughter ensued. Amused laughter from my doctor and our unnamed acquaintance and 100% nervous laughter from Stefano and I. 

 
We made the phone calls saying it was time. I swear we heard members of our family all running to their vehicles for their journey on I-43 but we told them to take a chill pill that it would probably be a bit yet. I was going to be admitted and the nurses hooked me up and got the pitocin going which I didn't want but since I had ruptured membranes for already over 24 hours (and already at risk for infection because of this) they wanted to keep the baby safe by speeding up the process. That's all they had to say and I was like hook me up and crank that stuff uppppp. The doctor came back and told me that the baby was very low that this should all happen pretty quick and that he probably would be back in a few hours to deliver the baby. I then found myself connected to multiple monitors that were saying that I was already having contractions. What? No I'm not. I don't feel a thing. This continued on for hours-me supposedly having contractions but not feeling anything and them thinking I'm some sort of freak of nature. They turned up the pitocin in hopes I'd dilate faster than I was. They kept checking me but not much progression. My doctor came in at the end of his shift surprised they hadn't called him over and told me that even though it wasn't his weekend to be on call he really wanted to stay with me to have my baby (seriously after all we've been through over the last couple years we are tight) but his own child whom he hadn't seen in two years was flying home and he had to pick him up. I forgave him knowing he would have been true to his word on being with me. He checked me one last time and guessed the baby would arrive before midnight and wished us luck saying that he'd be thinking of us all. The on call doctor comes in to introduce himself but couldn't figure out how I was getting so much pitocin but had no progression so they decide to do some type of internal monitoring to measure my contractions. It being internal meaning that is needs to get up past my cervix (yay to birth and details right?) which also means that if there is some secondary bag delaying my progression that by doing this procedure it would "pop" it-which would help put me into more advanced labor. We do the procedure that in case your wondering was not pleasant at all with still no progress. They decide they may have stimulated my uterus with the pitocin too quickly and now it wasn't doing the job it should be doing. So they pull me off the pitocin and let my uterus rest for a bit. I decided to go in the bath and do the whole hip rotation relaxation technique. Well wouldn't you know that between those two actions I started some contractions I could feel. Woe-wee did things start getting real. Just here and there type contractions but enough to make me forget about everything and say some random swear words and hate my husband for a second. All while he was looking slightly terrified and unsure of what to do.

By this time it's approaching midnight and they come in to check me again. No progress. The nurse tells me if I want to do an epidural now is the time since the anesthesiologist is in the next room and it would be best that I catch him before he goes to bed. An epidural wasn't part of my "plan" but nothing up to now went as planned so why should it be any different at this point? I figured if I did the epidural and since I was no where near where I needed to be I would at least be able to get some rest during the night and then come morning we could figure out what was going on. Plus having to wake up a sleeping anesthesiologist to put a sharp needle in my back? Um no. Here comes mister anesthesiologist that seems to be in a not so good mood already (Excuse me nurse, can we get someone maybe a little more chipper to stick this needle in my back please?) Mr. Moody got the job done and I was resting very comfortably. I had the best nurse (on request since the day nurse had looked at my previous history and knew I deserved a nurse that would make my experience extra positive) that night. After the epidural she came in and sat down and I questioned her how long they were going to let me labor for. She asked me if I really wanted to know. I of course said yes. She told me then that come morning she was betting they would c-section me. She asked if that scared me. Having been through a multitude of other surgeries in my life I was completely fine with that. Actually I think I preferred it. The whole giving birth the natural way (even that's the way I always envisioned it) actually was a bit more intimidating and scarier to me than another scar. The husband and I had a pretty great night of sleep (while no one in our family did as they were of course on pins and needles). The next morning the doctor came and they checked me again and I was still only at 3 centimeters dilated. Off to c-section I went since by now I had rupture membranes for too long. It was pretty laid back and relaxed so it wasn't as scary and intimating as I'd imagine an emergency c-section to be. Before I went in I asked the nurse how long it would take from once they cut me to get the baby out and I would hear it cry. That's all I cared about. Not if the baby was a boy or a girl. But that he or she was just breathing and well. She told me within seconds I'd hear crying that the whole process leading up to the c-section is what takes the longest. Once they made the incision I reminded them that we didn't know what we were having. The anesthesiologist said well your husband is going to tell you right now and pulled him up by the arm to see the baby. What did my husband say? "It's got big balls!!!!" Of course everyone in the room was in a fit of laughter. Steve started crying and then I heard our baby cry. 2 years of worry and heartache finally washed away by the most glorious and beautiful cry I had ever heard. Everything was real in that moment. I finally had a baby here with me. They brought him over to the warmer to quickly examine him and do all their nursey stuff and my husband didn't know where to go. He asked if he should stay by me or go by the baby. I told him to go by the baby and as soon as our new baby heard his dad's voice he stopped crying and just stared at him. Somehow I managed with my tied down arms to pull back the drape to see this all unfold. It was unreal. This is what we had been waiting so long for. This.exact.moment. We didn't get any pictures during this time but I don't care or have any regrets about that. It's so perfectly etched in my mind that there is no need for pictures. There is no way a picture could capture all of the beauty and perfectness of those first moments with our son.

Little did I know that before I went in for the C-section that our family had already arrived despite my strict instruction for them not to come till early afternoon since I'd be in recovery and that whole process can take some time. We barely got back to the room and everyone started coming in. I couldn't blame them or be mad. They had waited so long for this moment too. The best part was we had yet to tell anyone if we had a boy or girl. But really I don't think they cared. We were all just so joyful. I once again felt that same exact joy of when we had announced our first pregnancy to them all. 

This is the first family picture that was taken later that day. I think it captures all our gratefulness and amazement pretty well. 

To the outside world I was finally a mom. But in my heart I knew I was a mom since the start of our journey. The reason I knew this is because I had a dream about my baby shortly after my first miscarriage. In my dream I gave birth and I was holding my baby (another boy) in my arms and he smiled at me. In that moment I felt a mother's love for her child. I woke up and I knew that dream was given to me to find solace and it did just that. Yes, my baby died before we knew for sure who they were but I really believe that the Lord gave me a little glimpse into Heaven and a lot of peace. After my 2nd loss something else that really helped me through is that I felt God was aware how important my siblings are to me and because of that my angel babies at least have each other until the day we all reunite. Some words that I also found continual comfort in were….

"I grieve the loss, but I know that they will never have fear or pain. Not subject to the faults and frailties of human parenting, they thrive in the love of the Perfect Father. He cares for them and holds them. They will never know earth’s peculiarities, but neither will they know the pain of isolation and loneliness. Instead, they experience things far beyond our imagination in a place continually filled with joy and music. My arms long to hold these babies. My heart longs for them. As King David said of his baby who died, they cannot come to me but I shall go to them (2 Samuel 12:23)."

I feel by sharing this journey with you all is that it gives my two babies that came before Nico a little more tribute and purpose to their short lives. Also, that it's OK to grieve and that it is OK to be sad. I appreciate others being vocal and not being ashamed of their own pregnancy loss. I appreciate and find a little ironic that October is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. I appreciate that there are images of mother's with their "Rainbow Babies" going viral. And I'm happy that I now too have my own Rainbow Baby that may give someone some inspiration to keep the faith as well. 

No Photoshop Here Folks. This is Real Life.

Isn't that beautiful and amazing? This past year has been nothing short of beautiful and amazing. The first few months I could do nothing but just stare and be in complete awe of my baby. In fact I still am. Now you all know why I'm so obsessed with Nicoló and maybe will be able to forgive me for posting one too many pictures of him. Maybe my blogs up to this point and past this point will be seen in a new light. Maybe now you see me in a new light. I know over these last few years I have changed. It all has made me more compassionate, it's brought my husband and I closer (shared pain can do that if you decide not to let it do the opposite), it confirmed how much I wanted a baby, it showed me how fragile life is, and it's made tough days within motherhood easy to bear. When you bear such pain to have a child it makes this mom stuff not so hard. Hard for me was everything that came before Nico. I’m so blessed I have someone waking me up in the middle of the night. I’m so blessed I have a baby to hold in my arms. Because of these realizations I wouldn't turn back time and I wouldn’t have wished for another fate. I have proved to myself that I can rise up and overcome whatever life throws at me and that I’m a warrior. And that when bad things happen, God is still good. That when there are hard times in life it only makes the good times that much sweeter. I am just so very thankful.

You know what hasn't changed though? The fact that I still cry all the time. I cry out of gratefulness. I cry out of pure joy and a heart full of overwhelming love. I have trusted God through my grief, and I am currently rejoicing with Him in my gladness. God has taken those empty places in my heart and filled them so full of love that my heart feels like it is continuously overflowing. 

So if you’ve been wondering why I have the sweetest and easiest baby ever- I like to think that God felt I deserved a baby just like Nico for putting me through the ringer! :) But I hope also for being a testament to His ultimate plan and keeping the faith in His goodness. 

I hope by sharing my story- I maybe have given even one person a bit of hope. Friends-there is hope after miscarriage. There is hope after death. There is hope after devastation. There is hope when the prayer isn't being answered. My prayers for you is that you know that there is hope in times like this as well. Just keep believing.

Our Christmas Card Last Year-Could Be A Cover Page For "Belief"

Thank you to those of you who took the time to read this and joined me in my heartache as well as in my joy. And most of all a big thank you to my family and friends who continued to love me through my darkest days. I love and appreciate you all more then I could every put into words. And now it's time to celebrate my Nico's birthday and the journey we've taken to get here.

XO. 

JLOVE AKA "Mommy"

One of Four. Two Times.

I think my exact words from the first blog I had written was that the whole purpose for me starting a blog was not only to document the most beautiful story but be able to open some dialogue and write about "stuff" that goes unmentioned and possibly be a hope for others. Every post up to this point has been pretty quick-of-the-draw-spur-of-the-moment light hearted types of posts. This particular entry I have thought about how to put into words for a long time-finding myself writing down random thoughts to hopefully spawn some inspiration on how to go about it and when to go about it. I thought today would be perfect. It's probably going to be a bit long (but yet incomplete) and most likely a little incoherent so bear with me. But it's also going to let you into my heart of hearts as well as the most painful time in my life. Here we go...

Rewind back to the Summer of 2012. It was a great one! We had quite a  few fun adventures that summer and I was gearing up to start work again. But first we had to celebrate all the August birthdays within our family. We took this picture and I had titled it "Celebrating August Babies!" 

Little did I know I was carrying our first baby…

Knocked Up-With No Clue

The day after this picture was taken I remember waking up and feeling really dizzy. For me to feel "off" is rare so I knew something was up. I had a big all staff in service that day but for some reason I decided to take a pregnancy test that morning. The two little lines showed up right away-I was beyond excited. I hid the pregnancy test and figured I'd go pick up another box of tests on my way home...you know just to be sure. Because the first time you find out your pregnant you just cannot believe that something you pee on could really predict this type of life altering moment! I managed to get through the world's longest day ever-swing by the store then I was back home. When I pulled in the husband was out on the lawnmower so I figured perfect-I can test again and then break the news! Sure enough-that first test really did know what it was talking about and obviously so did the additional two tests that I took to finally solidified in my mind that yes, I really was pregnant! I had bought a card and wrote a few sweet words in it and called my husband off the lawnmower because Lord knows I could.not.wait.another minute. I handed him the card which of course he thought was a bit odd because the next day was my birthday. I told him to read it out loud because due to his broken English and ESL status I figured that if he heard himself-he would comprehend what the American words that I strung together meant. We laughed and cried and hugged each other a million times. This picture was taken right around that time. Glowing right?

The Glow Is Real Y'all

I was on a serious life high. Newlywed bliss, working my dream job, and now pregnant? Could life get any better? We of course were  sooooooo excited to tell our family and friends. I wanted a unique way to do it and came up with the idea that since it was my birthday I wanted to give out 28 gifts to represent my age and to do the whole give rather than receive thing. It was a lot of fun to see our friends and family unwrap baby hangers/rubber ducks/bibs and for it to take a minute for it all to click. Eventually it did and then there were more hugs, tears and excitement. I wish that we had taken pictures, because those moments of pure joy were irreplaceable and little did I know it would feel like a lifetime till I felt that way again. I called my doctor to make my first appointment. They said with first pregnancies they typically don't do the first exam till about 10 weeks. 

It just so happened that I would be 10 weeks on October 10th, 2012. 

My husband and I headed to our first prenatal doctor exam. The exam goes well and my doctor told us that right around this point in pregnancy we should be able to hear a heartbeat. He pulls the Doppler out of his pocket and starts poking around-he goes to both sides and says, "Sometimes it can be hard to find since you may not be as far along as you think you are. So let's go do an ultrasound to make sure everything is on track." We head on over to the ultrasound department and as a nurse not being exactly familiar with fetal ultrasounds- I myself wasn't sure what to look for or that something was amiss nor did I realize that going for an ultrasound at this part of pregnancy was not routine- neither did my sweet husband who was caressing my head as we saw the 1st glimpse of our baby. Not much was said by the ultrasound tech during the procedure but "Thank you." as she left the room. I turned to my husband and told him that I felt something wasn't right. On cue, the door opened and I saw my doctor's shoes peeking from the other side of the curtain. He stepped around and with the simple words, "I have some bad news." Probably news he's had to deliver thousands of times in his long career but for some reason the words seemed foreign even coming out of his mouth. Funny how in one moment everything can come crashing down. Funny how life can throw you from the top of the rollercoaster to the bottom so fast that you don't even have time to catch your breath. But, like many women that came before me and sadly will come after me they have or will receive the same fate that their baby no longer has a heartbeat. When that kind of news is delivered it feels like your heart may stop beating too. My husband cried harder than me and I found myself consoling him all while I could tell my doctor felt even worse since usually the roles were reversed. I was in too much disbelief with the news to react appropriately. I mean a lifetime of hopes and dreams shattered with 5 little words. There were of course more words after that. Mostly words that I didn't want to think about. And that's what I did. I told my doctor I wanted to go home and just see what happens. Turning to the all knowing Google and reading miracle stories on how the doctor couldn't find fetal heart tones but then miraculously did. Basically, I was holding on to any little piece of hope I could find. After 2 weeks of nothing happening we went back to the hospital for my scheduled D&C but I told my doctor I wanted to do one last ultrasound so I didn't have any doubt in what we were about to do. Same news. Went through the procedure-hid from the world for a bit and beat myself up bad about what could have caused it. Was this all happening because I was doing heavy lifting a few days prior? Was it because I work in a building that has lead paint? Was it because I have too much stress at work? I went back looking at my calendar thinking about what I did the day they said my baby stopped developing. What could have I done differently to prevent this? Was it something I ate? Was it  somewhere I went? You go over it a thousand times of why it happened. What was the reason? Whywhywhy? I dwelled and dwelled, day in and day out-over and over-even though in my medical background I know it's so very common and it happens all the time. (If you click this link- it will take you to an article that is about all the self guilt and self blame that comes along with a miscarriage.) But if it so common why did I feel like the only one? Why did it feel that this baby was so meant to be-but then wasn't? To add to the tragedy (and heartache) about a week later my grandmother passed away. And then a month after that our Uncle Sam passed away unexpectedly. I was at his service and after the family gathered I lost it. Like almost fell to my knees in an engulfing grief. It was like all the loss hit me and took over every cell in my body. We got through (barely) the holidays in all of our sadness within our family. My husband and I decided we needed to get away from reality and what better place than Las Vegas? Stefano who never gets sick was sick the entire trip and it was such unusually cold weather (to the point that I had to go purchase new clothes since the clothes I brought were not weather appropriate.) but even with those circumstances aside it felt good to get out of the day in and day out. We found comfort in food and went to go see a couple shows-one being The Beatles Love Cirque Show. It's a great but one particular set (Blackbird) had me crying because it was all so child like and whimsical and the lyrics were just too much for me to process all while the girl next to me side eyed me and then whispered to her date that I was crying. Sometimes tears just make you feel a little bit better-it's a release and really not something others need to fully understand…especially some stranger. Overall, the trip allowed us to take some time to heal and reconnect. 

I would have been due on May 6th and as each month crept closer to that date I found myself becoming more and more sad thinking of all the "what should have beens". Since our last distraction seemed to work so well I decided to take my mind off reality again and go have a little fun. Call in a really fun friend and a flight to warmer weather and you forget for a little bit. 

Kari=Best Distraction Ever

We were able to spend a few days together filled with sun and a bit too much fun and since she had to get back to her own family-my husband flew into Miami where I purposefully extended our vacation past our baby's due date to soften the blow a bit. On the actual due date we were driving through the Everglades to our next destination on the Gulf side. I didn't want to dwell on the timing but I had a notion in my mind that it would be a bit of destiny and divine timing if I were to find out that I was pregnant again on the due date of our first baby. I really hadn't had many symptoms (besides being tired and not much of a desire to drink…although that's not typically out of the ordinary for me) but I thought what the heck and threw a pregnancy test into my luggage before I left Wisconsin. We got to our resort and I went and did my thing (unbeknownst to my husband) and ohmigosh those two lines showed up again. I literally could not believe it. It was so incredibly bittersweet. I came out of the bathroom and asked my husband if he knew what today was. He said, "May 6th." I then asked him if he remembered what also was supposed to be happening. And he said, "Having a baby". He remembered even though I didn't think he would. I then told him I was pregnant again. We once again cried and laughed and it felt like it was meant to be.

The Evening We Found Out

I was on the phone to make appointments right away upon our return back home. I had everything scheduled for the morning after we got back. They were going to measure my hormone levels every couple days to make sure they were doing what they were supposed to do. They were. The doctor said I could do an early ultrasound for peace of mind. Did that. Saw that precious little heart beating. We cried. Celebrated our anniversary feeling extra lucky in love and a reason to celebrate after our sad year.

I wanted to add "Baby" to this post!

A couple more weeks passed-when I experienced some light spotting. Of course I freaked out. Went in for another ultrasound and the baby was doing fine. At this point I was about 9 weeks along and the doctor told me since we had a strong heartbeat that these were all good signs and the he was pretty confident. A few more weeks pass and I go in for a routine exam and he pulls out the Doppler once again and he starts going from side to side once again. It felt like deja vu. It felt like a nightmare. Seriously, I cannot describe or put into words the panic or the dread or the re-breaking of my heart. He did a bedside ultrasound-and had that look in his eyes again and simply said "Things aren't looking too good." I knew once again my baby was gone. Of course we did the whole routine of the more advanced ultrasound and it confirmed what we all already knew. No sweet little flickering of a heart beat. I was so angry. I wanted to scream to my doctor that he told me he was confident. I hated this hospital. I hated this room. I hated everything. I hated having to wait in a waiting room full of pregnant woman while I was praying for a miracle to be one of them too. I hated that my doctor was looking at me with the saddest eyes. How could this be happening again? How could it feel so much like fate and the perfect timing of it all once again and be nothing but breaking my heart? I was standing up in a wedding that weekend and I told the doctor I wanted to wait to do the D&C. He told me if I would lose the baby naturally over the weekend or before the D&C they wouldn't be able to do genetic testing. I really wanted the genetic testing (even though insurance didn't cover it) so the same day I found out that once again I had lost a baby was the same day I had the surgery. I don't think I stopped crying or got out of bed until I had to pull my shit together for this wedding. The wedding was over and I went home and cried more. I met with the doctor for my check up after my D&C. We talked. I cried. He asked if I wanted anything. I knew what he meant. Some type of anti-depressant that would help me have a conversation or get me through someone simply asking, "How are you?" without breaking down. This poor guy-every time I see him I'm crying. Every time he walks in the room-I felt he just pitied me. I pitied myself.  But I told him that I did not want anything. I need to work through this process. As I knew it was ok to experience and go through these emotions but it would not be ok to stay there forever-even though at the time I thought my grief may never end. 

We talked about the genetic testing. He said my husband's results came back and there were no concerns there. There was relief but also then I was taken to another dark place. What if it's something in my genetic makeup that is causing these miscarriages? Would my husband still want to be with me if this was all my fault? I asked him if the baby's test came back he told me not yet. I asked him when the genetic testing came back if they would be able to know if it was a girl or boy. He said yes. I started crying again. That was something I really struggled with. Knowing the sex made everything that much more real and personal. He asked me if that something I wanted to know when the results came back. I couldn't even answer him because I was crying even harder. Luckily, God answered that question for me. When the doctor called a few weeks later the instant I heard his voice I knew that something was wrong. I started sweating. I had to sit down because I was afraid that this was something bad. The doctor just doesn't call if everything is fine. He has his nurse call. The doctor only calls if something is wrong. All of these thoughts ran through my head in about millisecond. He told me that my results came back...why was he pausing so long? Please talk quicker. He continued on, "And everything is normal." Sigh of relief. He then went on to tell me that he had the results of the baby. What happened was there was a genetic anomaly, which would have led to a condition called Turner's Syndrome and it only affects girls. My 2nd baby was a girl. I knew it was a girl from the start. I have a baby girl. Tears. He continued on (not knowing I was once again crying) saying that baby's with this syndrome can make it and live a relatively normal life but have a few health problems. One being that they themselves would never be able to have a baby. I would not wish my current heartache of not successfully conceiving to my daughter. But also with Turner's Syndrome there can be heart issues and our baby probably had a heart issue that was too severe to sustain life. The good news-(there's good news?) "This is a complete random condition that could affect any pregnancy of any couple at any time. So that gives you two the green light to try again knowing that next time may be OK." I felt some relief with all this news but at the same time still felt so incredible sad.

I went in for another unrelated appointment in which they knew I was pregnant but did not yet know I had recently lost the baby. One of the receptionists said, "Wow, you look so great. You'd never know you were pregnant." I said, "I'm not pregnant anymore." That look of dread filled her face and I felt sorry for her and then felt even worse since I started crying right there. I got in the car where my husband was waiting for me and cried even harder. Like uncontrollable ugly sobbing kind of cry. He had no idea what set me off or what had happened. I mean I went in relatively normal and came out a hot mess. And that my friends is how it went for months on end. Now this is where things become really blurry. This is where I just went numb. This is where I just went day to day trying to see past my sadness. Really this particular time in my life is nothing short of one big foggy moment in time. I believe it's your brain's (and heart's) way to protect itself. But looking back I know I was probably a bad wife, a bad sister, a bad daughter, and a bad friend during this time. But when you are dealing with such heartache you are in survival mode. It's feels like a huge accomplishment to just get out of bed. Somewhere in this point of time, my best friend was having a baby of her own and as happy as I was for her I couldn't help being so sad for myself. I avoided every baby shower that came about in this time frame. I couldn't do it. Except I went to hers. I cried the whole ride there, once again pulled my shit together for the shower, and then cried all the way home. Then here would come those "whys" again. The same "whys" that I went over a million times but still felt the need to torture myself with once more. 

Each month when the medical bills came in the mail it was like being kicked in the gut and would drag me back to those dark places. Since I had to have a D&C both times it basically cost the same amount had I given birth. I had to pay the same amount but had nothing to show for it but a broken heart. A twice broken heart. With twice the medical bills. I could have fought with insurance to have this and that covered during my 2nd pregnancy but it was just easier for me to pay the money and not have to deal with more negative emotional energy. Then of course everywhere you go you see babies.Going to the store and walking past the baby aisle. Every commercial that's on more babies or pregnancy tests. I would go on social media and first thing that would pull up would be a baby, or an announcement, or someone complaining about being pregnant. I could not take it. I signed off from the social media world for a long time knowing that I could not deal with any more in your face tactics then life already was giving me on a day to day basis. I threw myself into work. Like literally from sun up to sun down. It was the only way to not let my mind wander to dark places of sorrow and sadness. But then there is the fact that I work with babies and kids. I work with pregnant moms. I work with some kids that their parents are not able to meet their basic needs. I work with woman that didn't want to be pregnant. How was this all fair? Talk about rubbing it all in my face. Since I dare not be alone with my thoughts I continued to work at the restaurant on top of my already over full time job. Being at the restaurant and being part of the "family"  people think they can ask you outrageous personal questions...which in their minds are simple everyday questions but I guess I was just a tad ultra-sensitive to any personal topics. When is a "little bambino coming" they say? I would have loved to start ugly crying again and tell them I just lost my 2nd baby in less than a year-but thanks for asking you jerk and what did you say you wanted to drink? A glass of arsenic? Just to make them feel like the rude assholes that they were being. But probably being bad for business I'd just smile and sweetly say "Whenever God chooses to bless us" when I thought God was being a real a*hole too. (Whoa.. did I just say that? Sorry God.) Then I'd walk away because if I stayed a second longer I would be crying into their spirit of choice. I cried on every occasion. My husband’s birthday, my birthday, every holiday. Spent New Year's Eve too sad to want to go do anything but forced myself to go out with some friends. It turned midnight and I cried then too knowing that inbetween our New Years kiss should have been a 38 week pregnancy belly.

Logged in to say thanks for being a bad everything.  

Our 2nd baby's due date would have been mid-January. It was funny because that day came and it felt like I was finally a little more back on track-almost 6 months to the day and my head was clearer and I felt more like "me". The whole hurting to breathe thing was lessen as well. It was refreshing. About a month later, right around Valentine's Day I was feeling a little off. I knew before I even knew. Of course to confirm- I took a pregnancy test (since by now I was becoming a pregnancy test pro) and those two lines popped right up. Instead of happiness all I felt was fear. I didn't even tell my husband-I called my best friend to tell her and when I said, "I'm pregnant." I started bawling telling her I was so scared. I knew that I mentally and emotionally could not go through another miscarriage. When announcing it to my husband I think I just sent him a picture-he came straight home and hugged me but I once again I cried. Getting  to and past those milestones of when I lost my babies previously seemed like an eternity. When one came I was on to the next hurdle. My doctor told me he was confident in this pregnancy-I told him that I've already heard those words out of his mouth. I reached 12 weeks finally and when most "normal" people would announce I wanted to wait longer. I reached 16 weeks and felt it was time to formally announce since it would force me to become more confident and maybe even allow myself to become excited about it. 

According to my GF Ashley-"And that's how you make a Facebook Comeback"

It continued to feel like the never ending pregnancy. It actually felt as what I'd imagine life in prison to be like. A little dramatic but really that's how it seemed. I was continuously waiting for the other shoe to drop. I felt it would only be a matter of time till my body would betray me once again. I didn't follow the same time line that most people do when it comes to getting the room ready, creating a shower registry, washing the clothes, and all the "fun" stuff that comes along with preparing for the baby because I felt I would jinx the pregnancy. I was at the doctor’s office weekly listening to the heart beat until I felt confident enough (my doctor is a saint). The weeks slowly passed into month after month after month. After two years of crying and pulling (and keeping) my shit together the reality of a baby finally became a little closer….

And with God's sense of humor…

On October 10th, 2014... 

I was admitted to the hospital to have a baby....

Continuation Blog To Come….