I Have To Admit.

The thing that I hate most about Gillette, is the shitty memories I've made since being here. I didn't really want to move here in the first place, but what was I supposed to do? Be pregnant, live with my Mom and be a bum? NO THANKS. So I got married and moved to Hell. This isn't supposed to be a pity trip... It's just "the beginning". We moved here, we lived with "T's" "best friend" and his wife who treated us like crap and were hot and cold toward us the whole time we lived there, we had to sleep on this bed set that I inherited from my Grandparents that was super old and uncomfortable (and any pregnant person WOULD bitch, just saying), and then we lost our baby. All this in 2.5 months.

Today (now yesterday), I was driving home from a friends house when something hit me. It took me back to June 6th; The day I would LOVE to have erased from the calendar. The day we lost our son. I didn't want to get up early to go yard saling. I wanted to SLEEP. All I did was sleep, but weekends were the GREATEST time to sleep in for some reason. But we got up, showered, I wore a relatively new dress that I'd bought last summer for a trip to California. It still had the tags on it. Put make up on, did my hair all cute. We had breakfast, went out to this place called Sleepy Hollow. It's a large subdivision made up of older 2 story style houses. Sleepy Hollow does this subdivision yard sale thing where everyone pulls out their stuff and puts a high dollar on it. It's like an expensive thrift store... so you walk through, window shop and gawk at all the ridiculous prices. We spent 2 hours wandering through, looking at all the houses and their treasures. The same patch of houses I have to drive past to go to a friends house. It was the last pleasant memory I have before life as I knew it crumbled around me. But it TOTALLY sucks. There's sooo many things I would have done differently while I was pregnant... but I would never change what's happened.

I don't regret my son. I just regret the loss of him. It's nothing I could have prevented and there was no way of knowing IT could "happen". A friend had said in something that she wrote, that losing a baby is something that "happens" to people who didn't receive the proper prenatal care. Losing a baby is something only "happens" to people who do drugs and other bad things. It doesn't "happen" to us-the people who wanted a baby. People who had plans for their child. Never a plan to go home from the hospital empty handed. People who received the proper care. People who were in the beginnings of having a perfectly healthy baby. Because we HAD received the proper care and made good decisions. We HAD done right by our babies. But as fate would have it, our plans have been dashed. And we'll always be one step behind or ahead of our friends who never have to experience this. One step behind, being we're the people who are broken hearted. Having to go on with our lives, having one physical child less than anyone can physically see. But one step ahead, because we've "been there, done that" and we're mentally prepared for the worst. Should it step in our way again. "Because it will." I don't want to be one step ahead OR behind ANYONE. I want to even with everyone else. I don't want to be standing in this "window", watching my friends perfect lives, having perfect husbands and perfect pregnancies, and going home with perfect babies. I want to be one of them, never having to detach yourself from a pregnancy to make it through it, just in case. Basking in all the pregnancy glory. I can't be one of those people. I can't be someone who enjoys life's every minute. I have a missing puzzle piece. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the dog that ate it.

FitPregnancy.com and the mass amounts of CRAP I read...

This one will be rather short. I'm just documenting the fact that I broke down and bought a book... on amazon.com actually, for... GET THIS... $0.01... It cost me a whopping $4. What book, you ask? Oh, this book I found as a reference on fitpregnancy.com (like the title? lol.) called Trying Again: A Guide to Pregnancy After Miscarriage, Stillbirth and Infant Loss by Ann Douglas and John R Sussman , M.D. (Taylor 2000) (not sure if that part is supposed to be in there, but it was on the website, so I just added it too)... I figured, why not just have it to have it. And if I get bored one day, I'll read it. Never hurts to have reference books to shit you want to forget, right? In the mass amounts of thinking I do now, I've come to the conclusion that I don't really want to forget EVERYTHING... just the hole in my heart, the jealous feeling of all my friends having their baby showers, and talking and posting about their babies... I hate jealousy. Just saying. I just want to forget the pain I feel NOW. Because I'd give ANYTHING to feel like I want to puke after brushing my teeth again. ANYTHING. Sometimes, I feel like I'll never get that back. Because the more time I sit here, thinking about it (because that's all I feel like I do sometimes), the more scared I get that the same thing is going to happen again even IF there's a cerclage. Even IF we take the steps to "prevent" it from happening again. There's no saying that that's the sole problem. It could be a million things. I'm scared it will happen again. I'm scared I won't make it through that kind of heartbreak again. So anywho. I broke down and ordered this book online. I'm sure I'll post random stuff on here that I read. In case my (current) reader(s) (I added the potential at the end... ya know, just in case) go through the same thing and get interested whether this one cent book is worth is coin. Guess we'll see <3

Oh, football cards.

I have no where to vent... and so since I only have one follower, I'm taking advantage of this while I can.

My husband has a football card obsession. At first, I would have classically described it as a collection, however lately... it's far more than that. Working a miner's shiftwork, he just rolled off nights. Me being anxious to spend time with my husband, I was antsy to wake him at 3pm. And it seems that today, just like every other day recently, has been spent in front of his computer, watching football card box breaks. Basically, to explain to those of you who aren't familiar (I wasn't until recently...) insane people buy these extremely overpriced boxes of packages of cards which hold a ridiculous resale value, put up a bid online for a "buy in" and those people pick teams and pay, say... $3/team they want cards from. And my husband has had me check the mail every day since Tuesday to check for packages of those cards he's "won" from those card breaks. I'm about to lose my mind. And the reason I'm about to lose my mind, is because I'm anxiously awaiting time to be spent with ME. But even as I sit here and type, it being almost 2:15am... the TV is on and his computer is open and he's watching a football card box break with some southern redneck babbling about his first Tim Tebow card, like I'm supposed to listen and care. I try, but it's getting really old... really quick. No longer does he have the attention for me. We started Avatar at about 9pm... he paused it to go to the bathroom where he took advantage of watching a box break... and upon returning to the couch... that's where he's stayed. Computer open, random box break babblers talking away in their football gibberish... not really talking but to extend what sounds to me like a pity "I love you" from down the hall. With Avatar still paused.

Yay for being married to a football card junkie.

How It Is, And How It's Obviously Gonna Be.

Not sure who thought it was a great idea, but the cemetery, it's in the middle of town. It's the only cemetery in this town... and it's smack dab, right in the freakin middle. Right behind a park, next to the Family Dollar... In the middle of town. I haven't been there since the day after Father's Day. I mean, I say hi to him from the street... without turning up the road, heading into the actual cemetery itself... But making that trip UP THERE... brings it all back. And last time I was there, I cried. Part of me wants that part of my life to be over. Sometimes I think that if I was just to let him and the memory of him go, that I might be able to live a semi normal life. Instead of always knowing that I have a deceased child laying in a cemetery... It's just hard to go and sit there... staring at his little name plate (headstone hasn't been ordered. Why are those damn things so expensive?!) with nothing more on it but "Joseph Arley Blatz"... "2011". It's not like I have anything to say to him. He was a fish in my belly for 19 weeks and 6 days. I never felt him kick. And after he was born, I never looked at his face and never touched him. And I'm starting to regret it... but it's over. There's nothing I can do. I just hope that when I meet him face to face, that he's not mad at me for it. It's not that I didn't love him, I just wanted to love the memory of him... not what he looked like half developed. I actually didn't start to regret not looking at him until I accidentally stumbled upon videos on YouTube of people who had taken pictures of their baby about the same distance along in their pregnancy who had gone through the same thing I did. But I think that people all handle things differently. And I wouldn't have handled that well at all. I guess, I just felt we didn't have much of a connection other than the obvious and that I have nothing to say. Because if Heaven is anything like I think it is, then he can see me and he knows what I'm doing. I just hope that God's covering his eyes during the naughty parts of my life. Poor kid.

Softball

So I started playing softball with people from my husbands work about a week ago. Last night was our 4th practice and "T" took my car to work, so I caught a ride with my friend Jess. And we were LATE. So we get to the park and finally find the team and get ready to go in the field. There's a couple new people and one pops around the corner and introduces herself to me. Her name is Miranda and she says I look familiar. I knew who she was as she walked around the corner. She was the only nurse that had ANY positivity in ER when I was there that first night everything happened. She's one hell of an awesome lady. And she's married to one of the guys that work with "T". I couldn't believe it! I believe people are put in our paths for a reason. I'm just wondering what she's here for. Again :)

5 Week Follow Up.

So, my appointment was at 3:50 yesterday, and I waited for him longer than I saw him.

He's decided that we're going to skip the other tests to rule out any of the other things he thought it might have been that my water broke... Which is good. It makes me feel that I did my research well enough to prove that it WASN'T anything else. I'm confident it's an incompetent cervix and nothing else. We talked briefly about the cerclage's that can be put in place [[my husband and I had already done our research and were beating him to the info; it was awesome :)]] and whatnot. I was "released" to do whatever I wanted. His words were "Whatever, whenever. Anything and everything." He DID tell us to wait at least 2 months before trying again. Which is fine with us because we just started playing softball with "T's" work so we'll be pretty busy with practice and games and whatnot. That, and "T" would like me to find a job, us get some money saved up so that we can start a family and be financially prepared. Now comes the fun part. Finding a job in a new place that doesn't have me doing crazy stuff that will be something I can do once we DO get pregnant again.

The only down side to the appointment yesterday was that I left kinda sad. Sad for 2 reasons. I got the vitals done and sat in a room and waited for my doctor to come in only to look for my baby and he ACTUALLY ASKED US... where our baby was. I was kinda pissed. Who the heck does that? But I have to take into account that my appointment was originally scheduled for the morning, only to get there and check in to find that my doctor was at the hospital taking care of someone who's water broke at 25 weeks. Poor gal. At least her baby is viable and she can be transported to Denver. I never stood a chance :( And the other reason I was sad was because "T" announced THEN that he didn't want to try again any time soon. And, I'm kind of in the same boat. As excited as I am to start trying again, and to have another baby, I'm scared shitless that the same thing will happen again, despite what we'll do. I'm completely terrified. I hope that with these next 6 months, I'll become more confident that the cerclage will protect my baby and keep it on the inside. Because I'm not sure I could do this again and experience the same broken heart. I think I would die.

However, to close this on a positive note, we've got to remember what the symptoms were of an incompetent cervix, and remember how it happened [[as much as I DON'T wanna remember]], and know that that procedure WILL indeed work. We have to stay positive. Right? <3

Dealing.

It's funny how there's a list of things that we'll go through as we're grieving for our loss. Shock, Denial, Anger, Guilt... But where's the one about sweeping it under the rug to not have to face it? Where's the one that says it's okay to put the problem out of sight and out of mind until it's a convenient time to "deal" with it? Because I'm definitely a person that sweeps things under the rug to not have to deal with it today.

I can safely say that the "shocked" section of it took place for the first 5 minutes after my doctor checked me only to discover a foot after a day and a half... almost 2 days, actually... of things looking SOOO incredibly positive. I had 5 minutes to "digest" the fact that it was over. And that moment came when there was no heartbeat on the ultrasound monitor and only my sons head left in my uterus. I had to act fast because it was happening whether I wanted it to or not.

Guilt is DEFINITELY something I've faced. It's unofficial, but I've Google diagnosed myself with an incompetent cervix. Especially the way things just "happened" without any sort of signs-no pain, no contractions for the dilated cervix... The day that I could have kicked myself was the day that I called to see if the pathology report had come back on the placenta they'd sent off. My favorite nurse, Crystal, told me there was nothing wrong with any of it. I had a premature placenta, the cord was perfect... there was nothing abnormal that gave them any signs for the premature birth. That was more or less a slap in the face. There was nothing wrong with my child. It was my body that couldn't hold it together. The fact that I lost my husbands son, the one that would pass along the family name. I did that. There was nothing wrong with my baby. Not a damn thing.

I think Anger went hand in hand with Guilt. I was and still am angry at the fact that it happened.  I was mean to my husband. I snapped at people for no reason. Someone that I knew even deleted their Facebook after a tangent. All because he said "everything happens for a reason..." and that "God needed him". How could God need him when He JUST had my son? You can't say everything happens for a reason to a woman who just lost her child. That's like asking to be punched in the face. And it REALLY bothered me that a man could say that to me. That a man, not having to change their diet and exercise routines, having to watch how much weight they pick up, making sure there was no smoke blowing in their face, could say those things like he knew where I was coming from. My husband wouldn't ever say that to me. That man didn't have to carry that fetus inside of them, and dream of the day it would be born and who that baby would be in 20 years. Only to have those dreams shatter within 15 minutes. Maybe I over reacted, I'm still waiting on my heart to make up its mind. Maybe things do happen for a reason, but that still doesn't make it okay to say.

Maybe the whole "sweeping" thing is part of denial. Because if you hide from it, then it never happened. Right? Because sometimes I'd like to think that that's easier. That hiding from my problems would make them go away. That the visions I replay of that "funeral" service we had, all those flowers and the cute little bear... and the little paper mache' box with the green bow on it never happened. Or my water breaking, and being in the ER for 3 hours with negative people surrounding me, and then a whole day and a half [[total positive time]] thinking things were looking up, only to have everything shatter never really happened. That they are all a figment of my imagination. Like they came from a movie, or someone else's life. And that seeing my 14 week old fetus floating around inside of my belly was someone else's. Because if it never happened, then it can't hurt, right? Perhaps I'll never know how to sweep everything under that big rug, but I'll keep trying until that dust pops back out. Because today isn't looking very good to stop and think about it, and neither is tomorrow. And tomorrow never comes in my book... It'll happen someday. Or it may never happen.

Talking with a friend who lost her baby at 32 weeks, she told me that part of her healing was getting pregnant again. My husband is on the fence about it now. At first he was fine and dandy with the idea of trying for another baby. I went as far as to sit next to my Josephs name plate and talk to him, even though he probably couldn't hear or understand me if he was a baby, and I told him and reassured him that if there was another baby that there was no way he would ever be replaced. I wanted to make sure he knew that I loved him with my whole heart, that there was a piece that was missing that I could never get back, and that this other baby wouldn't be able to fill that void, just mend it for a while. Because a piece of me feels jipped. Like my maternal rights were revoked before I had a chance to vouch for myself. I'd like to think I'd be a good mother. That I could raise a child. But how can I prove that to myself and the world if my counterpart is still "on the fence" about it. I'm sure he's scared of going through this again. I'm not sure that I'd be a sane person if this happened again. The saying "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is as much full of shit as saying "Everything happens for a reason". Just because it doesn't kill you now, doesn't mean it won't kill you if it happens again. And I think I deserve a chance. So I'll give him some more time. What else can I do? Steal it from him? ^_^