Weekend Review: pumpkin fun!

There isn't much to say about this weekend, plus my brain doesn't want to work today.  It shut off last night and when I woke up this morning, it didn't know how to tell me to get out of bed. So here is my weekend review in pictures!


I had the urge to go baby shopping, so Tim took me.  It turns out that my judgement has completely gone out the window in terms of what the baby needs and what the baby (or rather, mom) wants.

Tim: She doesn't need that. We're going to get so many bibs from other people. 

Me: It's a cupcake. She NEEDS this. 

My mom also bought me a Christmas present that she just couldn't wait to give me, so one of the highlights of my weekend was this very meaningful necklace:

"Love you to the moon and back"

Finally -  yikes, turns out Halloween is right around the corner.  We carved our pumpkins inside and we won't put them out until the 31st so that the squirrels (and other gross rodents) won't get to them. Introducing our pumpkin family!

Tim's fire hydrant

Me and Baby C!

Conner's first pumpkin

Benjamin's first pumpkin

Miranda's pumpkin that she has no interest in. Shocker. 

Our growing family

The longest blog post ever: weekend review and capture your grief catch up!

My blog posts are slowly becoming recaps of a bunch of things all at once (sometimes unrelated), and I apologize for that.  I would really love it if my life were more simple and the categories of my life were more clean cut, but nah, that will never be me.

First of all – I THINK my mom had her last chemo treatment!  She is being tested again in a few weeks to make sure everything looks good, and if it does (please God), then we can focus on her recovery.  I spoke to her on Thursday and she said she was already feeling better and was just happier thinking that the end was in sight. Thank you all for your support and prayers.  I don’t know most of you, but believe me when I say that you have all touched me so much with your encouragement.

After the bad news from the ultrasound on Thursday, I wrote my blog post and went to make dinner.  As I was walking down the stairs, I saw Tim pulling into the driveway.  He could tell that he couldn’t make me feel better on the phone, so he took a full sick day at the fire department (even though he only had 12 hours left on his shift) to spend the night with me.  We didn’t talk much about the ultrasound, but just having him home made me feel so much better. I love this man.

Saturday was my cousin’s wedding.  It was great to catch up with some family who were in town from Georgia.  Plus, I’m realizing as I get older that it is an increasingly small world – we got sat at a table with Tim’s old friend from high school and one of the other firefighters was there (his girlfriend is my cousin’s new sister in law).  It turned out to be a great night.  Afterwards, we stopped by my best friend’s house for her surprise 30^th birthday party.  Are we really getting that old?  I guess it never really hit me how close I was to 30 until I hugged her and told her happy birthday.  I’ve been best friends with her since the 2^nd grade. I’d love to say we have changed a lot, but we’re still kids at heart. I’m learning to embrace 30 as it draws closer. Besides, 29 has been kind of a shitty year.

Gotta love the photobooth!

We were on our way home Saturday night when we witnessed a huge crash right next to us.  The car next to us was turning left on a green arrow, and some other driver in an SUV (clearly drunk), rammed on his gas, blew the red light, and slammed right into that car turning left.  The car was clearly banged up (not sure if it is even repairable), and the SUV lost his freaking tire. The driver of the car got out to survey the damage, thankfully and surprisingly unhurt.  I should have written down what kind of car that was, I should get one.  It clearly saves lives. I watched the SUV continue to drive – at least 50 mph – and I was like – OH GOD, he can’t stop!  But then after about 5 seconds, I realized that he was choosing not to stop. He was fleeing the scene.  So naturally, Tim and I followed him.  I say naturally because Tim is a sucker for adrenaline.  It was pretty easy. We were in my hometown so I knew the streets backwards and forwards and knew which streets to take in order to catch up with him or cut him off.  Plus, he only had three freaking wheels so we were basically just following the car with the fireworks coming out of it. He pulled over (finally) and we were able to get his license plate number and phone it into the police.  Two parties and a good deed in one day.  Not too shabby.  We didn’t go to bed until about 12:30 am and we both woke up around 3 am… and never really went back to sleep. 

Which caused a problem, because today was the Walk to Remember in honor of Infant Loss Awareness Month that our hospital was hosting.  Luckily, after church and a huge breakfast, we felt ready for take on the day.  I was disappointed from the start, though.  I had sent a message to our family and close friends to see if they wanted to come with us, and almost everyone said no or chose to ignore the message completely. In the end, Tim’s sister, mom, brother, niece, and two of our friends came. It really makes me grateful for the people in our life who truly care, and who don’t think of the loss of our boys as old news.  It was a windy day, but it was perfectly autumn out. Luckily, being bundled up hid my pregnant belly pretty well. 

I don’t remember a ton of specifics – mostly because as soon as everyone started reciting prayers, I lost my mind and bawled my eyes out.  I think as soon as someone with a microphone said, “I think of you everyday”  that pretty much did me in.  There was a short walk around the forest preserve, some parents had readings devoted to their babies, and then there was a balloon release. Conner and Ben’s balloons were stuck together as soon as we got them, and they stayed together until we were no longer able to see them.

See the two balloons in the middle, stuck together?

One of our friends turned to us and said, “I never met them, and I still miss them.  And those pictures you have of them have got to be some of the most beautiful pictures I’ve ever seen.”

Cue my heart breaking. 

Tim’s sister and mom made more hats for the micropreemies and blankets. Of course, the nurses were so grateful to have them.  But I do remember our family and friends commenting on how small they were – they were modeled after Conner and Ben’s hats, and I could feel myself getting hot.  I hate it when people comment on how small they were.  I obviously know they were small.  No shit. But I already feel like a failure of a mother, so I hate when people comment on how small they are – it makes me feel like I didn’t do my job even more.  I know that the boys came out bigger – in weight and in length – than anyone expected, but still hearing that they were small was like a dagger.  If my kids died of cancer, I wouldn’t want someone saying something like “they just looked so sick. SO SICK.  I mean, SICK.”  You get the point.

I also need to catch up with Capture Your Grief, which seems very fitting after writing about the Walk to Remember.  I’ll make this short and sweet (am I losing you yet?).

Day 3: BEFORE

On our honeymoon cruise

Who was I before I lost my kids?  I think I was stupid.  Honestly.  Book smart, maybe, but stupid.  I remember holding my boys and feeling so guilty in getting caught up in all the baby shopping and money spending on the hottest new baby gear.  I remember thinking, “They don’t care what kind of crib I put them in.  They just want to breathe.”

I had fun.  I laughed more.  I stayed out later.  I thought that I was invincible.  I shouldn’t have.  I’m a little too old to believe in personal fables. But God, I miss that girl.  So naïve. So dumb.  You should have known better than to think your luck would never run out, stupid girl. 

I obviously still have anger at my past self for not preparing for what was about to happen to us. 

Day 4: NOW

We put the dimes we find in Conner and Ben's owl bank.  I find myself more open to what life has to show me. 

Maybe someday, I’ll be able to say I am truly a better person because of what has been taken from me (from US).  My boys have made me live in the moment when I used to live for a future that was never a given.  They have made me more grateful for what I have.  I hold some people closer and have pushed people away who didn’t give our boys the time of day.  Tim and I fight over not much of anything anymore.  I am, in some circumstances, more forgiving and patient.  I am more sensitive.  

But I’m still angry, I still feel robbed, and I still proceed with caution in life.  At any given second, I feel like throwing the temper tantrum of a monster two year old.  IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR, IT’S NOT FAIR! The optimism I might have had before has all but disappeared.  But none of those negative traits are the fault of my boys.  Those traits will disappear with time, or so I hope.  So, I’m not really sure who or what I am.  Better in some ways, broken in others.  

Day 5: JOURNAL

Dear Benjamin and Conner,

I haven’t written a letter to you in so long.  This blog has become a letter to you in many ways.  It chronicles my feelings about having you and losing you, it captures the grief and happiness that I feel whenever we do something special for you, and it helps me to remember everyday how you both have changed me to be a more contemplative and sentimental person. Some days I feel like there isn’t anything else to say – everything that can be said has already been said.  Other days I feel like I could write an entire book on things I would love to be able to say to you.

For your baby shower, everyone was going to fill out a “wishes for babies” card. I never got around to filling it out, because you came so quickly after the cards were ordered.  But I want you to know all the wishes that I had for your lives, and how I hope you are living in heaven.

I hope you learn how to ride a bike fearlessly, your alphabet with silly rhymes, and how life is always beautiful, even in the worst of times.  If you hurt, it is because you loved.

I hope you are not afraid to challenge what is wrong with the world, even if they are beliefs held by the majority.  Do the right thing, and you will have peace in your heart.

I hope you love each other.  I always wished for twins, and when I heard we were having them, I wished that you would be the same gender and be best friends. Take care of each other.  There is a reason you were born together.

I hope you get to live life fully.  I cannot guarantee a long life, or even a happy one (although I would have done everything I could to give you both).  But I hope that you take the good with the bad and face each day with determination.

I hope you laugh at stupid things.  Your dad and I laugh at movies and jokes that quite frankly probably aren’t that great, and we have inside jokes that no one will ever really get. But those little opportunities at happiness everyday are sometimes what make each day fun.

I hope you never forget how much I love you.  When you go off to high school and feel like an outsider, or move away to college and crave your independence, or get married (per my approval) to the girl of your dreams – I hope you make your choices each day knowing that I will support you and love you no matter what.  You will never be alone.

I hope you always are grateful for the people who care about you.  So often, we lose track of friends and family and get caught up in ourselves.  Be sure to check in on people.  They will never forget you for it. 

I hope you dream about trains, cars, dirt bikes, and dogs. I hope you wake up in the mornings eager to play outside in the mud because of some great dream you had, or get new ideas of games to play with each other because of some creative wanderings your mind took in the middle of the night. Be little boys.  Be dirty and muddy and loud.  I promise I won’t mind. Your dad is always tracking dirt in the house and Miranda loves the smell of her own poop.  I haven’t kicked either one of them out yet, and I’m not even sure I know how to handle other clean people in the house.

I hope you become a person your children can be proud of.  You’ll know soon enough that the only opinions that matter are God’s, your mom’s, and your kid’s. If your kids grow up and think, I want to be just like my daddy, well then you’ve done a great job.

I hope you respect other people’s beliefs and cultures.  Some of them may seem completely different from yours, but it is not enough to simply tolerate.  You have to learn how to accept, and then to appreciate.  I am glad you are being born at a time where minority populations are gaining rights every day.  You represent two different cultures, being born from a white father and a Filipino mother.  People have opened the doors for you; keep opening it for others.

I hope you grow up. And at the same time, always stay young.  You’ll always be my baby boys.

With love,

Mom

Weekend Review

Four things happened this weekend.  I realize that none of these events are extraordinary, but the entire weekend took an emotional toll on me.

1.  Miranda got into trouble
2.  Went to a wedding
3.  Saw my mom
4.  Read bedtime books to the boys

Miranda
Ok, so this might be the one thing that didn't bother me emotionally.  Kinda.  Saturday morning, I took Miranda for our daily (sweaty) walk.  A neighbor tried to give her treats.  Miranda got scared, cried, and hid behind me.  You can't take this girl anywhere, I swear.

And then I let her out into the backyard. You know, to pee.  Not kill.

I called her to come back inside.  I could see her chewing on something.  I assumed it was her frisbee.  I told her to show it to me.  She promptly and proudly picked up whatever she was chewing on and walked it with the stance of a lion to the deck.  I went to go see it.

A baby bunny. With a bite taken out of its side.

No words except OMG. Easter is ruined for everyone, kiddos.

I called Tim and he went into the backyard to clean it up.  Turns out it wasn't a baby bunny, but instead it was an adult rabbit that was beheaded by our dog.  We found the head at the back of the yard, next to a bird she had also killed.  She's a sweetheart like that.

If you're a dog owner, this isn't a big deal.  Dogs do this.  If you're not a dog owner then I should probably add here that Miranda really isn't dangerous.  She just likes.... to kill stuff.

Kill bunnies?  Who, me???

Wedding

Our pastor warned me that this would happen.  He said that there would be some days when I just wanted to be happy and have fun, and Tim wouldn't understand it.  He said there would be days that Tim was in a good mood and I would be angry because I was grieving alone.  It happened for the first time on Saturday.

We went to a wedding, and I got all dressed up, got my hair done, and took an insane amount of time on my makeup (which ended up not looking any damn different from any other day).  I was excited to see friends and dance and just have a good time.  I even had a plan on how to make it seem like I was drinking when in fact, I wasn't (hold a glass of pineapple juice. Everyone thought I had some girly fruity cocktail.  Plus I'm an idiot anyway so maybe I seemed drunk).  

If Baby C is a girl, I hope she has my hair. It's the only thing I like about my looks and I got it from my mama. 

Dinner went well and we took pictures in the photo booth. Tim proceeded to show people pictures of the dead rabbit.  Men, I swear.  He was so proud. It was turning out to be a good night.

Thanks for wearing that hat, Tim. Now we can both be Asian.

Trying to put a mustache on my butt. 

And then nothing. He kept asking me to leave (and this was HIS friend's wedding).  I could tell something was wrong so I said okay, let's go. We walked out.  He said he was depressed and didn't feel like celebrating, which got me upset.  We hardly ever have this kind of time together. He had been working late for weeks and I was just excited to spend a night together.  Being a firefighter's wife means that 1/3 of your life is spent without your significant other, and you go to bed alone.  You wake up alone.  I got all dressed up and he didn't even ask me to dance.  He wanted to go home and read to the boys.  I wanted to go out and have fun.  I realize now that this is just one night of probably hundreds that we will have throughout our life.  He will want to have fun, and I'll want to sit at home and cry over the boys.  I'll want to go out and have a good time, and he will want to sit home and think about our sons.  But this was the first time it happened and I didn't know how to deal with it.  Eventually we talked it out but I know we will struggle with this for a lifetime. 

Saw my mom

My mom was walking around and talking like she's never been sick.  It's the first time I've heard her voice in months. Its awful to see her and try to spend time with her, knowing she can't talk back. She's four weeks out since her last chemo treatment and her last radiation treatment, so she was feeling a lot better.  We sat around and talked and spent time with my niece.  As usual, because she is a shopaholic, she raided her closet for shoes and purses that she hasn't used in awhile and threw them at me.  I left with a new pair of sandals and two coach purses.  And new towels.  And two bags of clothes for my other niece that Eva doesn't fit in anymore.  My mom is the kind of person who will buy things just because they are on sale and then she doesn't know what to do with them.  Department stores love her and probably know her by name. Because of this, I rarely shop.  Thanks mom!  

She gave me old coins that she thinks will be worth money one day.  She said she was saving them for Conner and Benjamin.  Ugh. Break my heart.  I'm going to put them in their nursery. 

Today she has chemo again.  September 15th will hopefully be her last chemotherapy.  It killed me to leave knowing that I was leaving my mom and that the next time I would see her, she would be sick again.  I'm waiting until she is done to announce Baby C.  By then, we will know if this baby is a girl or a boy. 

Read to the boys

We read to the boys every night.  When I was in the hospital with them, I promised them that I would.  We still consider it our time together.  There is a picture of them across from our bed that I stare at while we read.  Yesterday night, Tim was at the fire department so I was left alone to read.  For some reason, yesterday was harder for me than most nights.  I bawled my eyes out while I read.  I just kept imagining my sons looking for their mommy and not being able to find me.  

And now it's Monday.  Thursday marks 10 weeks pregnant, and I will finally start taking pregnancy pictures. I didn't start until 10 weeks with Conner and Ben so it didn't seem fair or right to do it any earlier with this baby.  I feel like 10 weeks is a milestone.  My MFM said she believed we would be looking at a viable pregnancy if I reached 10 weeks.  It was also at 10 weeks that we had our pregnancy announcement with the twins.  I'll be 25% done with this pregnancy.  I'll also be DONE WITH PIO.  Over the weekend, the swelling from the progesterone was pressing on a nerve and I lost feeling in my right leg.  Thursday, we will be celebrating a milestone and the fact that I won't be putting 1.5 inch 22 gauge needles in my ass anymore.  

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend!

Hello, little blobby thing

Well, we had quite the scare today.  The nurse started with, "it's a girl, she's not cooperating."  We couldn't find the baby for like, 20 seconds but in my reality it took about 30 minutes.  I was sitting there thinking, ok, this is it, it's over.  No baby.  But then there s/he was, just a tiny bit bigger than on Monday, and according to Baby Center measuring about the size of a raspberry.

And then came the heartbeat, down to 127 from the 188 bpm it was on Monday. I could immediately tell the difference as soon as I heard it. The nurses told me not to worry and that the heartbeat fluctuates.  127 bpm is normal for 7 weeks pregnant.  But of course, I was freaking out again which prompted my nurse to stick the probe in me again and find the heartbeat for a second time to make me feel better.  All this medical science and technology in 2014, but the dildo probe has yet to be replaced with something thinner and less violating. But I shouldn't complain, because they can stick whatever they want in my hooha to check on my baby.

I went home to check out Conner and Ben's baby book.  At 5.5 weeks, their heartbeats were 110 and 109. At 7 weeks, they had jumped up to the 170's.  Great.  So my boys' heartbeats increased, and Baby C's has decreased.  I know they told me not to worry, but I've heard that before...

Nonetheless, little blobby was looking great.  I say blobby because that is all s/he looks like to me, although supposedly s/he is starting to look more like a baby and less like a tadpole.  When they checked the heartbeat the second time, heartbeat was 129 bpm.  A slight rise, but not much. While most people might not think twice about this, a baby loss mom never settles down. 

I saw my mom today. She is walking around better and starting to eat solid food again.  I was so happy, but I know that this is short lived with her chemo coming right around the corner again. 

I'm still struggling on when to announce this pregnancy.  I would really like to wait until the 16 week gender scan.  That is when I predict I will start showing, albeit slightly.  I didn't start showing much with the twins until around this time.  It would be fun to announce a gender with the pregnancy, and by then my mom will be completely done with chemo and this mess with my grandfather dying will be behind us.  But, I feel guilty since my brother now knows about the pregnancy along with my sister in law and well, all of you.  I feel like I kinda cheated my family and friends of knowing about Baby C.  So, I think that I'll just sleep on it.  One day, when I wake up and feel like it's the day to announce, I'll do it.  For now, since I'm ambivalent, I'm not going to think about it. I'm just going to sit here, eat a cheeseburger, and see what happens.

Have a great weekend!  Love, Krystal and little blobby

Where are you, God?

So just when we think my mom is done with chemo, turns out she has 9 more weeks of toxic hell.

Also, my grandfather died.  No one has told my dad yet because of what is going on with my mom.

So, in 2014, Conner and Ben died, my mom got cancer, and my grandfather is gone.  We're not even done with this shitty year yet.

We were waiting until next week to tell our families about Baby C, since we thought my mom would be declared cancer free by then.  Nope.

We're probably going to keep this a secret until I am very, very pregnant.  Like around the anatomy scan.  I need my mom to be feeling better to tell her.  And she's going to be worried to high hell about me.  I can't tell her about this pregnancy now.

I really don't think God listens to anything I ask for.

Also, kinda trivial, but I had an allergic reaction to a freaky bug bite yesterday and now my leg is wrapped in an ace bandage with ice packs.

If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be downing some tequila right now.  But... at least I'm pregnant.

Peeing on sticks like it's my hobby

On Monday, I was walking Miranda and talking to God.  Miranda and I were hustling because I could hear thunder and I knew there was a chance of storms in the area.  I told Him that I already loved this embryo more than I loved myself, and asked him to please give us this pregnancy.  I knew I tested early and got a negative test, but I knew with Him anything was possible and maybe the next day would bring different results.  Right when I finished saying all of this, a cloud parted and the sun came down right on me.

So I peed on a stick on Tuesday morning.  It was negative.

But then...

it turned into a very, very faint positive.

I didn't trust it.  So I decided to take another test that afternoon before I told Tim.  My husband came home not even an hour after I took that test, which was very unlike him.  Turns out, since I didn't text him that morning to tell him the test was negative, he figured out that he was positive. So, because he is probably more anxious than I am about this, he left work and drove home. He noticed that I opened the new box of pregnancy tests (which I denied being new, I told him that had been open).  He dug through the trash after I left the bathroom to see where the test was.  No test in the trash, so he knew I had it.

He stuck around for awhile but I wouldn't say a word about it.  I tested later that afternoon and it was positive again (!), but knowing he was on to me, I didn't say anything again.  Then he came home AGAIN to check on me, telling me he would buy me more tests if I would just take another test right now.  I told him no, I was waiting until tomorrow.  When the hell did my husband become a detective?

I finally caved when we were trying to figure out where to go for dinner.  I said, "I think you should take me out to dinner, because I'm pregnant!"  Oh, he pretended to be surprised.  He threw me up in the air (and I almost hit my head on the ceiling fan) and wouldn't let me go for a long time.  And then, of course, said, "I KNEW IT!"

I peed on these.  Left is from Monday's negative, middle two are the extremely faint ones from Tuesday, and right one is from Wednesday. 

Also, I saw my mom yesterday, who said that one of her tumors is gone.  We are so, so blessed.  She still has a long road ahead of her to get rid of the other tumor, but this is wonderful news.

I am calling this embryo "Baby C."  Conner was "Baby A" and Ben was "Baby B" while I was pregnant (that is how doctors name the babies in multiple gestation, with Baby A closer to the cervix).  Baby C is technically like a triplet to them, since our babies all are from the same "batch" of embryos.

Thank you to everyone who has been praying for her and for our little embryo.  Thank you, God.  Thank you, Conner.  Thank you, Benjamin.

***PLEASE, IF YOU KNOW ME PERSONALLY AND HAVE STUMBLED ACROSS MY BLOG, WE ARE ASKING THAT YOU DO NOT SHARE THIS GREAT NEWS. WE WOULD LOVE TO TELL OUR FAMILY AND FRIENDS IN A VERY SPECIAL WAY ONCE I AM FURTHER ALONG.***

Weekend review: a wedding and an almost sleepover

I haven't been blogging as often as usual, and for very good reason - I feel like my head is going to explode. So many things are happening all at once, and I can't keep up.  This weekend was a mix of great and horrible, and I find myself wishing for a perfectly boring life.

Friday = great!  We went to a firefighter's wedding and had a blast.  We danced until I was ready to throw up, basically.  Tim got so sweaty that people kept asking me if he was ok.  That's a sign of a good time, right?  Plus, we got to take this gem:

The "awkward prom" pose.  Notice Tim's beard?  That's the official signal that a firefighter is on vacation.

It was also one of the guys' birthdays, so we went out after the wedding and didn't get home until a little after 2 a.m.  I can't remember the last time I did that.  I'm actually pretty sure we were in our hotel room before then on our own wedding night.

Also, HAWKS WIN HAWKS WIN HAWKS WIN!!! We may or may not have been watching the game on another guy's phone part of the night and the DJ may or may not have been giving everyone updates on the game between songs. We may or may not have all danced to the Hawks theme song. And there may or may not have been celebration shots.   Game 7 is today.  I'm a little anxious.

A weird coincidence happened when I got my hair done for the wedding.  The woman doing my hair asked if I had any kids.  I told her I had two boys, but they passed away in January.  She said she was so sorry, and that was so sad.  There were a couple minutes of silence, and then, "I had a stillborn a little over 20 years ago."

Yikes.

So we got to talking about her baby boy and my baby boys, and it was just nice to talk to someone who totally understands what I'm going through. I feel like when I share my story with people, it opens them up to share their stories with me.  There are more baby loss parents out there than people know.  It's such a taboo subject that people just don't talk about it to strangers, which is why I think so many people omit their lost babies when they are asked how many kids they have.  But I feel like I can't deny that I have sons, and if that makes things awkward... then so what.  But many times, I've found that the complete stranger I tell also has had a similar situation happen to them.

Saturday = horrible. Mom got admitted to the hospital for a fever of 105 degrees.  They had my niece for the weekend, so Tim and I headed to the hospital just down the street from us to pick her up.  I didn't want her to have to sit in the ER with my parents.

So we watched Despicable Me 2, which she adorably knows all the words to.  We made cards for my mom, and for the first time ever I talked to my niece about Conner and Ben.  I didn't know what my brother told her about them, and I was waiting for him to tell me.  He never did.  So, carefully, I said, "should we put Conner and Benjamin's names on the cards, too?"  and she said "Yes!  Benjamin looks like Uncle Tim, right? So I'll put his name by Uncle Tim's name."

So cute.

Eva painted this picture of Miranda a week ago and was so excited to see it up in our dining room

The two of us were *this* close to falling asleep (Tim was sleeping on the couch downstairs so Eva could snuggle up with  me).  The phone rang, and it was my dad coming to get Eva.  Blast.  The girls sleepover would have to wait for another day.

I pulled one of Conner and Benjamin's swaddle blankets that my mom and I bought before we even knew they were boys.  I gave it to my dad to give to her.  I figured she would want something to hold in the hospital. It's the first time (and will probably be the only time) I've ever given something of Ben and Conner's away. But I think my mom needs it more than I do right now.

Tim is back to work today after having about 5 weeks off.  I hate it.  I was getting used to having him home every night.  This totally blows. Tomorrow is baseline.  I'm having issues with my clinic, so this should be interesting to see how it goes.

GO HAWKS!

Heavy

There is a very literal weight on my heart, and it has been heavy for weeks.  We finally got confirmation that my mom has cancer.  She and her doctors are optimistic, and she keeps telling me not to worry.  But how can I not?  I asked her questions about radiation and chemo and she looked at me like I was insane - how could I not know about this stuff?  She's an oncology nurse so all of these treatments and medical terms are like her second language.  I still have so many questions left, but she doesn't seem to want to dwell on this too much.  She won't even take the time off of work, and when I told her she should she almost laughed at me and said, "why would I do that?"

I stopped by there today after an appointment with the RE who will most likely be doing my transfer in June.  Good and bad news - since we have been advised by multiple doctors to only transfer one embryo, my chances of getting pregnant from an FET is only about 25% (compared to 40% with two embryos, or 50-60% chance if we were doing a fresh transfer).  But I had to remember that statistics apparently mean nothing to me, because I'm always in the minority.  Maybe 25% will be good enough for us.

I also brought up that two MFMs (my high risk OBs) have told me that it was possible that the chorioamnionitis I had was caused by the IVF treatment itself. They said that it was a slim possibility, though. I had high doubts about this, since it seemed highly unlikely that I would make it to 22, almost 23 weeks of pregnancy with a deadly infection that showed no symptoms until 22 weeks.  When I told the RE about this, he was shocked.  He said he had never heard that before.  He has done almost 10,000 transfers and he has never once had an infection come up because of the transfer.  Not only that, but he said he has yet to read a study that indicates chorio as a result of IVF.  He said that if I had an infection due to the embryo transfer or even egg retrieval, there was no way I would have gotten pregnant in the first place.  My uterus would not have allowed it, and even if it did... there's no way I would have made it so far in my pregnancy with an infection that would kill me.  Chorio is a rapid spreading infection.  My symptoms when I was admitted compared to right before I gave birth (span of 40 ish hours)  were like night and day.  I didn't have any symptoms when I was admitted, but I almost died from it a couple days later.  So, at least I can rest a little easy knowing that I am not putting any future pregnancies at risk using IVF.

I was also concerned about assisted hatching, since I know it could possibly damage embryos.  But he assured me that since I have day 5 embryos, there would be no assisted hatching.  Good job, little babies.  You are already making this so much easier!

When I stopped at my mom's house after my appointment, she told me about a sign that Conner and Benjamin sent to her.  My mom recites the rosary every night, and she does it in front of a picture of Conner and Benjamin.  In the picture, Tim and I are holding them.  She doesn't like the pictures where it looks like the boys are alone.  Anyway, this extremely light 4x6 picture frame is propped up with three candles so that sucker isn't moving anywhere.  She was reciting the rosary and before she was finished, the picture moved.  Like, almost fell over. She then realized she forgot to mention Conner and Ben's name in her prayers.  She said it was like Conner and Ben were saying, "hey grandma, don't forget about us!"

Hopefully, my boys are watching over their grandma as she goes through this extremely difficult journey.