Down That Forever Road

A few hours ago I was in a co-workers office on a conference call. Everything was fine until I noticed a new addition to her desk - her most recent ultrasound photo. Instantly it felt like someone kicked me in my stomach. I caught myself holding my breath so I wouldn't cry. I guess I had been ignoring the fact that she is actually pregnant until now. I have to accept it and it so hard. She got pregnant the week I buried my babies. Doesn't seem fair does it?  

Today I found another friend is pregnant. If you are keeping tabs, I have now found out that 5 people close to me are pregnant. If anyone else would like to announce their pregnancy, now would be a good time. I mean, hey, at least they wait until 2.5 weeks after the girls before the first one told me, right? I am trying to be happy for all of them; it's not their fault I'm infertile and lost my two daughters. But it sucks, because I feel like after they tell me their news they start retreating because they don't want to upset me. This does nothing but make me feel lonely. There can be a happy medium where we can be friends and acknowledge your pregnancy. I would just prefer not to hear you constantly complain about being sick, tired, or miserable when I would love to be any of those if it meant I could have a baby to love on Earth.

I'm not sure I really have the words to describe my first Mother's Day. It wasn't as dark as I thought it may be. I woke up to some sweet "thinking of you" text messages and facebook messages. No one else really acknowledged the fact that it was a Mother's Day for me too. Marty's mom and dad came to our church with us. We went to my parents to celebrate with my mom. We went to the cemetery to see the girls. We went to Target. We went to dinner with his parents. We drove around looking at houses. In other words, Marty kept me busy enough for the girls to not be my only thoughts. The saddest part of the day for me was the cemetery. But, not sad for me. It was so crowded, like never before. And, I was sad for all of the people who were there visiting their moms. Of course I did cry for my girls' while I was there, but it still felt surreal that I was at a cemetery on my first Mother's Day visiting my daughters. So instead of trying to really absorb i

On Friday we got the "week of" date for our frozen embryo transfer. It will be the week of June 18. Five short weeks away. I can't believe it will be so soon! I am excited to start, but also scared beyond belief. I am mentally psyching myself up for the shots that will start 2.5 weeks. I am going to set up an appointment with my regular OB/GYN to discuss the cerclage procedure, what bed rest is going to look like (how strict), and the decision of seeing a high risk OB doctor in conjunction to her. I want to have all of that knowledge before the transfer, so I can be as stress free as possible with all my ducks in a row. If this transfer takes, my cerclage stitch would be removed the week the girls were born, so it is possible we could end up with another February baby. I am praying with all my might that if this is what God wants us to do, we will have a healthy baby here in less than a year!

I find myself doing most of my crying and the drive to and from work. The drive can take up to an hour depending on traffic. Everyday I have to drive past my fertility doctor's office and the hospital where I delivered the girls. And, when I happen to look over and see them I think back to the second appointment at the fertility doctor's office when I felt like my world was collapsing when they told us the only hope of getting pregnant was via IVF. Then I think about the happiness that happened there - finding out we were having twins and being released from there at 10 weeks pregnant to my regular OB/GYN. And, then, the hospital. I think of the days the girls were born. How I was in such shock when the ultrasound tech asked over and over if I was sure I was having twins because she only saw one baby. How traumatic (emotionally) Savannah's delivery was. How all I heard around me were the cries of babies taking their first breaths in the world. How the nurses were so sweet t

Mother's Day is getting closer, a day I am dreading. They have been hard the last few years when it was just a longing to have a baby. But now, here I am with two daughters I will never know on Earth. It isn't quite how I imagined my first Mother's Day. While I should still be pregnant with my sweet girls, I will instead be visiting them at their grave. It just doesn't seem right, but in all of this, I am trying to choose to be thankful. I am thankful for a wonderful husband who has been my rock. I am thankful for God and His love that gives me strength. I am thankful that my baby girls never knew pain or suffering. I am thankful my mom is still here to celebrate her on Mother's Day (thankful for my dad too). I am thankful for the 5 months I had with my girls and that I was able to feel them moving so early. I am thankful for a friend that will listen at anytime, no matter if it is rational or not. I am thankful I work for a company that has been so understanding wi

On Monday, the day I was having "one of those days", I cried the whole way home. I still don't know why I was in such a funk, other than just because I was consumed by grief. Any way, when I got home, I had my box from  Owl Love You Forever  . It could not have come on a more perfect day. Inside were my sweet owls in memory of the girls. Each one is monogrammed with their name and birthday. So sweet. I just sat there holding them for awhile. And somehow, my mood was lifted. Just having something to hold on to that reminded me of my girls was what I needed that day.  Gentry's Owl Savannah's Owl Back of  Gentry's Owl Back of Savannah's Owl Back of the Owls