New Blog

It’s quite obvious that I’ve been mum over here for a while. Things have been great, but I haven’t wanted to write here for fear of something bad happening. This space is just so full of sadness and frustration, and I just don’t feel like it’s the best format to share baby updates and photos like I’ve wanted to.

With all of that explained, I have a beautiful 2-month old baby girl now, and plan to blog about her here. It’s private because I plan to post photos and more personal information, but I’m happy to add you to view it. Just leave me a comment here.

I hope you’ll follow me over there, and I’ll continue to follow along in your journeys.



I realize I have completely ignored this blog for almost the entirety of my pregnancy, and it has been partially intentional. It’s not that there haven’t been things to write about; it’s that I wasn’t sure I wanted to use this place to talk about what I’m becoming more and more confident will be my take-home baby. I’ve just been kind of lurking on blogs though and not posting much myself.

So, why the sudden urge to write? Mostly because I’ve been diagnosed with placenta previa and am hoping for some reassurance that everything will be fine.

I am 18 weeks pregnant today and had my anatomy scan this morning. The good news is that our baby girl looks fantastic! We got to see her on-screen for nearly an hour, and I had to keep reminding myself that it was our baby up there. It seemed very surreal.

The news I am waiting to hear back from the doctor on, is that it looks like the placenta is partially covering my cervix. Of course, the technician didn’t divulge too much info, and only told me when I prompted her. I have no idea what this means, and when my doctor will call. Has anyone ever dealt with this, or know someone who has? I know there’s lots of time for it to move, and that having a c-section if it doesn’t is not the end of the world. But I was kind of hoping that after everything that has happened that I would have a complication-free pregnancy.

Any encouraging stories out there are much appreciated.


Huge relief. That was the theme of yesterdays ultrasound.

D and I arrived about a half hour early in hopes that we would be able to have everything done early. Luckily, they called us back within about 15 minutes. I was an absolute nervous wreck, but I managed to hold back tears until we saw it–the gestational sac–in the right place, at the very top of my uterus! We were only able to see the gestational and yolk sacs at this point, but that’s all the doctor was hoping for.

It was measuring 5 weeks 3 days, which is about 2 days ahead of my calculations. Thank goodness.

Now another two week wait until the next ultrasound at approximately 7 weeks 1 day. This will be the viability scan where they’ll be looking for a heart beat in order to release me to my regular OB/GYN. I think I can actually relax a bit from now until then.

Where to Begin?

I’m not even sure how long it has been since my last post, because I didn’t even go to my blog when I logged in. I honestly needed a break from thinking about IF and loss. But I really feel the urge to write, and I’m hoping someone out there can maybe even give me some comforting words.

So, I am pregnant again. At least at this moment I am. This was a complete and total shock, as I haven’t had my period since 7/1 and thought for sure that I would need to take Provera to get things back on track. This was our first cycle NTNP, and it felt good to really truly take a break.

Three weeks ago I went to the doctor for hcg and Progesterone testing, which came back negative and at 1, respectively. The doctor thought I was not going to ovulate, but I had a strange feeling and decided not to fill the Provera prescription she wrote. Two weeks later, I got a positive HPT. Beta #1 was 192 on 9/3, Beta #2 was 458 on 9/5. Beta today was 1,507. This is why I need to write.

My doctor wants to see me for an ultrasound on Thursday, and right now the thought of waiting that long seems impossible. When the nurse called me today, she did not sound very optimistic. They obviously wanted to see my hcg at around 2,000, but with all of my researching this afternoon it looks like the number should actually double every 48-72 hours and that any growth over 66% every two days is considered promising. I have not given up hope, but I am worried tremendously. I had to take the day off of work, telling my boss that I believed I was miscarrying. I can’t fathom another loss, but at the same time it feels inevitable. Why wouldn’t this end in tragedy like my last? It seems like that’s the way everything is going this year.

What really gets me this time is that we weren’t trying. Isn’t that when everyone says your miracle is supposed to happen? Yes, I consider it a miracle that I even got pregnant naturally, but I want this baby so badly. It’s supposed to be born on May 10th, so close to May 7th when we lost D’s mom. It’s supposed to be the happiest moment in our lives to help ease the pain of losing Fran way too soon. Two pink hibiscus flowers bloomed each time we were in Cincinnati in the last month on D’s sister’s porch. That tree had been dormant all summer, she said. And yet here they are, each time:

I took these as a sign that everything is going to be okay with our baby; that Fran is up there working for us. I really hope that this is the case, but now more than ever I want a sign that this will all turn out fine.

I have read some blogs, or rather a blog where her hcg numbers were similar and had similar doubling times as mine, and she’s now well into her third trimester. This does offer some level of comfort, but I can’t help still worrying.

If everyone who is reading this could offer me the best, most positive energy they have right now, I would really appreciate it. I’m thinking dances, magic, huge prayers, what have you. I really need it right now.

I’ll update after my Thursday ultrasound.


Sitting in my psychiatrist’s office right now. He is notoriously at least 15 minutes late so I know I have time to at least let out some of the things I’ve been struggling with lately.

This is an urgent appointment that I scheduled last week when I ran out of Xanax and realized that I need to up my dosage of my SSRI. I’m feeling very lost and overwhelmed right now. I may have popped a few too many pills and had a few too many drinks last week for my comfort. All of my other (healthy) coping mechanisms seemed unfeasible at the time. I’ve been working 12+ hour days at work, coming home and sweating over the stove and then sink (our dishwasher is currently broken,) and then zoning out under the ceiling fan in front of the tv, not wanting to talk to D.

It has been two months since we lost Fran, and our house is a wreck. We have so much of her stuff that I’m considering hiring a personal organizer. Things that I used to be okay with (closet is a disaster, we need to get rid of clothes, etc.) are now driving me up the wall. I get so overwhelmed that I get into this almost catatonic, quiet state where I can’t do anything.

But on the outside, my friends think I am fine because I am not acting much differently. They want to think I’m fine, because who wants to see their loved ones struggle?

Work is confusing right now, structurally, and I’ll just leave it at that because it’s not worth getting into. Needless to say, it has been a gigantic source of stress these past two weeks.

I feel very alone. I know I am not, but I miss my parents and wish they could live nearby.

I feel very angry. I don’t understand why we had to lose our baby and Fran.

I feel very overwhelmed. I want our house to be tidy and clean and I feel like a bad wife that it isn’t.

With all of this, we have decided to postpone IVF until we are in a better mental state. We may wait until next February even. I’m calling 2013 a bust and saying screw it. I’m only 27; D’s only 29. We have time.

The Memorial, and a Few Lighter Notes

I absolutely meant to write here last week, but it has taken me some time to process the events of the last ten days or so.

Fran’s memorial was a little over a week ago, and of course it was bittersweet. We were overwhelmed with the amount of people who made it out to a fairly isolated lake in Ohio to celebrate her life. She touched so many people in her too-few years on this earth. I was so proud of D and his sister for the beautiful and eloquent things they were able to say in front of everyone, and so thankful that his step-sister and her fiancé (my very good high school friend) were able to attend. We definitely needed the support. My parents also came, and of course D’s father (which I know was difficult for him.)

We rented a boat in the morning with D’s sister and her husband, his aunt and her three children, and his grandmother (Fran’s mom.) We each laid a rose on her pressed-paper urn and D and his sister placed it in the water together. It was so touching and serene in that moment, yet so difficult to really say goodbye.


I think D has more closure now, but as executor of her will he often feels overwhelmed. There are so many things to take care of when a parent passes away that it becomes difficult to really grieve the loss. For me at least, when I was helping to plan the memorial I still felt as if I was in service to her; she seemed like she was still here in a way. I had a pretty difficult emotional crash early last week and had to do something I rarely do–ask a friend for help. My best friend here, we’ll call her Kay, came over the night I needed her and was really there for me. We sat outside with our dogs and just talked about everything. She is also going through treatment for infertility, and just received a PCOS diagnosis as well. In addition to that, her husband’s father passed away a little over a year ago.

When I think about all of the good people I know who have had such awful things happen to them, I really have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. Five of our very close friends have lost a parent in the past four years. Every one of those friends though are some of the strongest, most resilient people we have met.

When I started writing this, I didn’t mean for it to be so heavy, but I suppose that’s where my heart is right now. On a lighter note, we enjoyed a very relaxing and fun weekend with D’s step-sister and her fiancé. We rented bikes for them and all rode down to see the Pirates lose in typical Pirates fashion, had a delicious meal of grilled salmon and truffled cauliflower mash, and quite a bit of white wine (oops, I totally cheated. But she’s a wine rep and was sharing so much delicious vino!)

Oh, and one more week until our official Let’s-Get-This-IVF-Business-Started appointment! I wonder what my $500 AMH test results are…fingers crossed.

Cleanse, Detox, Whatever You Want To Call It…

…it sucks big time. I am on day two of a 21-day “action plan” from Whole Living magazine that several of my coworkers did back in the winter. They all saw some amazing results–improved energy, digestion, mood. Oh, and these already skinny bitches got even skinnier! So, as someone who has always sworn up and down against fad diets/detoxes/what-have-you, I am embarking on what I am sure will be a very cranky three-week journey.

Why am I doing this? Well, for several reasons. My mood and energy could definitely be improved, and I’d like to lose some weight before our beach vacation in July. Plus I enjoy a good challenge, and want to test my willpower. Okay, okay…and I guess I am starting to buy-in a little bit to the idea of “clean” eating. I need a fresh start to the summer, and I think it will only help with my upcoming IVF cycle.

But seriously, it sucks right now. For the first week you can only have veggies, fruits, lentils, nuts, oils, and seeds. And seasonings, of course. The recipes have actually been quite delicious thus far, and I have enjoyed them, but I find my mind to be completely fuzzy. It’s likely the lack of caffeine, but I am allowed green tea at least.

D is doing the cleanse with me, albeit without eliminating caffeine. His commute is way too long to go without it when he’s been a two cups before work each day kinda guy.

The part that is really bugging me right now is that I have no desire to run. It could also be an effect of my working 12-hour days for the majority of this week that’s sapping my energy. Apparently though, this week is supposed to suck, and you are supposed to spring out of bed on day 7 and be able to run a marathon. Or something. I know though, I will definitely be ready to eat some effing FISH and BLACK BEANS and BROWN RICE. But that will all have to wait 5 more days.

Has anyone reading ever done a cleanse? Would you be interested, or do you think it’s just starving and tricking yourself that it’s good for you? I’ll be sure to let you guys know how it goes.

More Signs That She’s Still Here

This weekend, D and I took a much-needed weekend trip with friends to a great little festival in Nelsonville, Ohio (about 15 miles from where we both went to college and first began dating.) We drank local craft beers, got stuck in the rain, ate delicious comfort food, met many interesting and good people, danced and held each other during Cat Power’s late-night set, and much more.

I will admit, I did have a few thoughts throughout the weekend about Sweet Pea and how we would have booked a hotel instead of tent camping if I were still pregnant. But they were intermittent and my mind recently has not been occupied 90% of the time with my loss and the desire to become pregnant again.

Something beautiful happened when the band that I was most excited to see came on the main stage Saturday afternoon. Lucius began their sound-check and one of the singers, Jess, sang the chorus of “Good Night, Irene.” At the time I was focused on how moving her voice was, even for a sound-check. But while walking back to camp after the performance, D admitted to tearing up when she sang that song. His mom’s middle name was Irene and she introduced him to the song when he was younger. I was, and still am, so touched to think that she’s still here and sending us signs.

Luckily for us, we were able to see Lucius perform another set in a completely acoustic, very small cabin. The setting was the definition of intimate, and although it felt like we should have been doing Bikram yoga there, it was worth the heat. I recorded an iPhone video of my favorite song of theirs, “Go Home,” which I have belted in my car on several occasions. I first heard it around the time I had just discovered I was not pregnant even though I had produced four mature follicles that cycle. The song kind of became an anthem for me and my struggle with fertility. Like I was telling my infertility to stop infiltrating every aspect of my life. I was wishing it away; telling it that I didn’t need it, and to go home.

After the performance, the band was sweet enough to stick around and talk to people, take photos, etc. D and I approached Jess and told her the story of his mom and how interesting it was to us that she used “Good Night, Irene” for her sound-check. She gave us both hugs and told us how sorry she was, but how glad she was able to show him a sign that she’s still with us. We talked for several more minutes about where we were from, etc. We found out that they are actually playing a free show at a festival in Pittsburgh in a couple of weeks, and she told us specifically to find her after the show. D and I were so touched by her kindness and genuineness that when said goodbye we both felt lightness and love.


D and I with the vocalists, Jess (left) and Holly (right)

I would highly recommend to anyone to check out Lucius’s music and buy their EP. They have a full-length album coming out in the fall, and the wonderful thing about them is the diversity and range they have from one song to the next.

Here’s my foggy video from the cabin performance:

I’m so glad we were able to have a relaxing weekend filled with music and joy.

Fran C and Sweet Pea

I haven’t been here in a while because there has been so, so much going on. D’s sister’s wedding was last week and she absolutely embodied the spirit and joy of her mother. D officiated the ceremony and did an incredible job. There have been many signs that D’s mom, Fran, is still with us. The most amazing of which is something I can hardly wrap my head around.

D’s sister sent us a text from her honeymoon on Tuesday night while we were eating at Fran’s favorite diner in her neighborhood. We had just completed cleaning out her apartment and wanted to reminisce a bit. The text said this:

“We went on an amazing jet ski tour today and we saw a boat called the ‘Fran C’ and right near it one named ‘Sweet Pea.'”

We couldn’t believe it. We both broke down in tears and immediately saw it as a sign that his mom is somewhere taking care of our little Sweet Pea. It was both chilling and comforting, and I’ve never experienced such relief to think that our baby is somewhere being taken care of, and that Fran is doing what she has always loved the most and done best: taking care of her children.

That’s all I can really write for now. This has been the hardest two months of our lives. I hope we can find more respite soon.


It’s with a heavy heart that I write this post.

D’s mother passed away suddenly yesterday. She was not ill, and we still don’t know the cause, but the examiner said it was likely sudden and quick.

We are devastated to say the least. I just needed to let this out here. Prayers and positive thoughts are appreciated.