Moving On...sort of



It’s been awhile! It’s been about the same since I posted last. Every month we go through the same thing.

Ovulation tests. Two week wait. Symptoms. Testing. Disappointment. Tears.

It’s all the same.

At this point we are ready to move on to the next step. My OB/GYN wants us to visit a fertility clinic as a couple. Up until now we have used our separate doctors including OB/GYN, Urologists, and Reproductive Endocrinologists. We have decided next month after Gavin’s birthday and the holidays are over with we will be setting up an appointment with one. They will give our final options which at this point is leaning towards IVF over IUI.

We will discuss it as a couple at that point, go through insurance to see what they cover if they will cover anything. Which I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t knowing our record with them. Go through the costs of it which if you know anything about it then you know it’s not pretty.

If we are told that there are no options for us as a couple to have another biological child then we will move on.

Next step. It’s there but we are still holding on to this last bit of hope.

We are tired not only physically, but emotionally. We are only given a small window for this to happen so that’s why we have to rush this.

I don’t know what our future holds.

God knows our wants and desires. He is in complete control and it so hard to walk in faith with a journey like this.

To be constantly tested.

To see other families grow in front of you is a punch in the gut.

To see Gavin roll around with his cousin and stay up late talking to him while they were snuggled up together.

To know that he would benefit so much with a sibling.

I believe it will happen. Maybe not the way we had hoped or even dreamed of but I know this feeling of being incomplete is not for nothing.

So, that is where we are now.

Wait, wait, and some more waiting.

　

　

Bitterness becomes a monster



It’s midnight and I’ve had something laying heavy on my heart lately.

I can’t shake it and it’s not a topic I like to discuss.

I’ve worn infertility like a badge of bitterness. If I found out you were pregnant and if it was a sudden way of founding out, well, I wrote you off. Just until my mind could heal.

I want to clarify I’m not angry at anyone who is pregnant.

Disappointed? Yes. Not in them, but in myself and my situation.

I think it gets mistaken for anger, and if it did and you are reading this..

I’m sorry.

If you haven’t gone down this road then you wouldn’t know that time heals these wounds. At least for me it does.

The most recent incident would be a close relationship I have with a pregnant lady.

The way it all played out when the pregnancy came out was a mess.

I cried, she cried.

I had recently at the beginning of the summer had a chemical pregnancy.

Which to me is a load of crap for even saying the technical word “chemical” for a pregnancy that doesn’t reach the 6 week mark.

Early miscarriage can feel like a heavy period, with major cramping.

I was able to go through it at home.

My OB told me a lot of women miscarriage and don’t even realize it.

They think their period is just late.

Unfortunately, if you are ttcing you know. When you are charting temperatures, taking ovulation tests, noting any body changes, and counting down the days you are able to find out early on if you are pregnant.

As the days progressed the lines got lighter and the physical sign that I was miscarrying happened.

Each day gets easier for me with acceptance.

It’s hard to describe to someone that you are happy for them but sad for yourself.

That person that you may of hurt with your bitterness needs your love and support.

It’s not their fault that your situation sucks.

Can I say that again? SUCKS.

I can honestly say it’s nowhere like being childless.

I have many friends and family who are and I want you to know if you’re reading this that I love you and

continue to pray for you.

My dreams of a family and siblings for my son seem meaningless when I think of the dark time I was in when being childless.

Gavin is my miracle baby. He is the reason I want to be a better me.

The reason that can pull me out of a deep depression since my brother died.

I don’t know how I’ll feel if our options are taken from us for conceiving again.

Will I accept it and move on to the next stage of our life?

Who knows..

If the last few weeks have taught me anything it’s that I can still support and love the preggos in my life without being bitter.

It takes time but if you’re willing to give me your all…

Well then I’m in.

Crazy hormones and all.

The day I said goodbye to him



This is going to be a sad one.

Fair warning.

It’s been one year since my little brother passed away.

The other days are more of a blur but this one stuck out.

He was on life support for 6 weeks and we were told multiple times that there was no more hope.

It was over. Either we needed to choose a day or they will go to the ethics board and we would have so many days before they forced us to take him off.

At that moment I think my mom was done with it.
She was physically and emotionally exhausted. He was losing so much weight and at the end became skin and bones.

She left it up to God.

If he was going to take him than this was the moment.

How do you pick a day for your loved one to die? I can only imagine the pain she was feeling that last week. She decided that a Sunday would be the best day for it and picked 3 pm.

The night before my cousin who was raised with us like a little brother, myself, my little sister, and Mikey’s girlfriend all huddled in the waiting room and visited his room through out the night.

I still can remember pushing the big round button to be allowed in the PICU. We had to walk past children that were struggling to live to get to his room. I have so much respect for the doctors and nurses that have dedicated their life to working in the PICU.

When the afternoon came around I walked to his room while everyone else was back at their rooms(the hospital had rooms for families of children in the PICU).

It was around 1:30-2 p.m.

I scooted my chair up to the side of his bed and grabbed his hand.

I consider myself a pretty strong person emotionally. You can ask anyone that knows me and knows that I don’t cry or show much emotion in front of them.

That afternoon I let the tears falls. I told him how much I love him and how sorry I am for not being there enough for him. That we couldn’t save him.

The night before I spoke to my little sister about who would be in the room with my mom when it was to happen. She said she couldn’t do it. It was too much.

My little sister is a tough cookie. She has been my rock through so many trials and she was the closest sibling to Mikey. They were 4 years apart and I know she couldn’t do it.

So we agreed that I would be the one to be at my mom’s side when they removed him.

At the last minute my mom’s sister and my two cousins came in as well as my sister’s husband.

Around 2:30 the doctor and nurses started the process.

They got my mom on the bed so she could hold him. My sister’s husband stood behind her just in case she fell. I sat back against the wall next to my cousin as my aunt and other cousin sat near the door.

They turned off the machines and took all the wires and tubes out of him.

Gave him plenty of morphine before they left.

They went back to the nurses station which you could see from where I was sitting and they looked up at the monitor for his stats so they could give us some peace in the room with him.

I looked over at him with swollen eyes and tears to see my mother hunched over him holding him and talking to him.

I never knew how strong my mother was until then.

She has gone through hell and back and to see her holding my little brother while he left this world was something else.

She held him when he came in this world and got to hold him when he left.

From where I was sitting I could see his heartbeat in his neck and I watched it go from a semi strong pulse to slowly fading into nothing.

At that moment when everything stopped he raised his chest up off the bed and opened his eyes.

To give you a little background on that the weeks leading up to the day a few of us had a dream of him opening his eyes.

In my dream he sat up in bed and opened his eyes and smiled at me and said he’s going to be okay.

My mom and older sister would always tell him to open his eyes so they could see his pretty green eyes.

Not once did he until then.

The only way I could describe it is like a cartoon.

You know the ones where they die and their soul goes up to cartoon heaven.

It was as if his soul left his body.

My aunt who is in the medical field and my mom who used to be in it have seen a lot of death but said they have never seen someone do that before.

My mom told us later on that before his heart went he had goosebumps all over his body and she looked up at him confused.

It was the most peaceful thing I’ve ever witnessed.

I made the mistake of standing up and going to his side to say one last goodbye before I went downstairs to tell my sisters and brother that he was gone.

It’s amazing how much the body changes right after death.

I have never seen someone who has just died without makeup nor have I seen someone literally die right in front of me.

It being my baby brother has been traumatizing.

I can’t get that image out of my head yet, I’m thankful that I was there.

Later on we went upstairs so my mom could sign some papers and to release his body to the morgue.

I looked down and the time of death was 3:16 p.m. not 3:15 like we initially thought.

A couple of hours later John 3:16 came to me. What an incredible sign for our family.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

A lady packed up all of his stuff onto a cart and wheeled it to the elevators with us.

We left the hospital with nothing to show for it but 6 weeks worth of his stuff and no Mikey.

Some days I’m angry at God. I don’t understand how someone so young could leave this world.

He was such a sweet kid and he loved and lived for the Lord.

He had his faults but ultimately he was someone I admired when it came to faith.

I’ve heard stories from friends of his how he helped them whether it be someone to talk to or to tell them about the Lord.

Maybe that’s why he was taken. He fulfilled his duty. I just wish we had more years together. I wish I would of taken more time off to see him in the last year before his accident. I just pray that he knew how much he meant to me.

Someday I will see him again and he’ll probably laugh at me crying like a baby on the one year anniversary.

I know I can’t honor his memory by sitting around feeling sorry for myself. He would want us to live our life and be happy. He was such a great person.

I know everyone says that when someone passes away but he truly was a sweet guy.

No one can take his place.

I love you MPM, a million times over.