Answer Me This - Father's Day Edition

Linking up with Kendra for another edition of Answer Me This while Jon splashes in the kiddie pool with the girls....because he's the fun parent.

1. What's the best thing about your dad?

My dad died when I was just barely 2 years old, so I don't have any memories of him.  I guess I'll go with he gave life to me and 5 of my siblings.

That's me at about 1 year with my dad.  Excuse the glasses - it was the 70s.

2. If you have kids, what's the best thing about THEIR dad? (If you don't, feel free to substitute your grandfather or another father figure.)

I don't think I can choose just one thing.  Jon is patient about the things that stress me, he is a better housewife (cooking, cleaning, etc) than I am, he rarely complains no matter what the girls and I throw at him, AND he's the fun parent.  He's willing to let them play games on the ipad, read all the licensed character library books that I refuse to, sing silly made up songs to them, and play I Spy Snap (quite possibly the worst game ever invented) more than once a month.  He lets the girls help him with projects around the house and doesn't even bat an eye when they show up to help him hammer things wearing a tutu and a tiara.

Jocelyn and Meredith think the best things about their dad is that he plays with them, he is silly, and he takes them to Menards.

 He also lets me take pictures of him doing silly things with the girls, but I'm not allowed to share those photos with anyone, so this is the best you're going to get.  That's a bummer because I have some really good photos of him in bunny headbands and princess tiaras.  Just use your imagination.

Jon and Jocelyn September 2009.  She was a Daddy's girl from day one.

Father's Day 2011.  Meredith hadn't yet learned Jon is the fun one and only barely tolerated him holding her.

Apparently I need to take more photos of Jon and the girls.  This one is from last November just before our camera died and it's the most recent one I have.

3. What's the best advice your dad ever gave you?

While he was alive, it was probably something along the lines of "Don't put that in your mouth" or "Stop eating the dog food".

While he didn't live long enough for me to remember any of his advice, he did leave me a rosary that had belonged to his mother.  It's just a simple rosary with dark purple glass beads, but it does serve as a reminder to pray more often.  During the sixteen years that I was very apathetic about my faith, that rosary reminded me that my dad expected me to grow up to be a faithful Catholic.  That knowledge was part of what kept me going to Mass even when I thought I didn't believe in the existence of God and was part of what helped return to my faith in my early 30s.

4. What's something you have in common with your dad? 

There are probably some good things we have in common, but since most of my information on this topic comes from remembering times when my mom would roll her eyes and say "You're just like your father" I'll have to go with some of the less positive attributes.

He was stubborn and so am I.  The ability to debate well and enjoy a good argument go hand-in-hand with our stubborn natures.  Completely unrelated to that,  we both have hair that takes forever to get wet and twice as long to dry.

The weirdest trait we share is that of an itchy brain.  Growing up, I thought everyone occasionally had that odd feeling that makes you wish you could just pop your skull open for a minute and scratch your grey matter.  One day in frustration, I voiced that wish out loud.  My mom turned and looked at me with wide eyes and told me that aside from my dad, I was the only person that she had ever heard complaining of an itchy brain.  Does anyone one else ever feel this way?

 5. What's the manliest thing you know how to do?

I can fix stuff.  Growing up in a single parent family with little spare money, I learned how to do lots of small repairs.  Having an analytical mind helps too.  My favorite thing to fix is the dryer, though the last time I fixed that I ended up creating a much bigger issue that I was not able to fix.
After hearing a weird sound whenever I turned the dryer on, I did a little research and a little disassembly and determined I needed some part  for the drum.  I called the local appliance parts store and after learning they had the part in stock and it was inexpensive, I loaded the girls into the minivan, and took off for the store.  In my excitement, I momentarily forgot that the van was squeezed into our 1940s single car garage.  It fit but care had to be taken when backing out and pulling in as there were only a couple of inches of clearance on either side of the van.  As I backed out quickly, I failed to check the clearance on the passenger side.  I remembered to check as I heard the sideview mirror being ripped from the van.

That's not the worst part of the story.  As it turns out, the new dryer part didn't fix the noise.  A little more disassembly uncovered a sucker stick and a Lego weapon were the true cause of the noise.

Fortunately my husband can fix things too.  Things like installing and painting new car mirrors.

Reading back over this, I'm realizing this is probably not the best story to share to prove my manliness.  I really can fix stuff and it usually turns out okay.....except that time I touched a bare copper wire.

Anyway.  Let's move on to the next question.

6. Who is your favorite fictional dad?

I'm sure I'm going to read other responses to this and realize there are better selections that the one I'm going to choose, but my insomnia has a stranglehold on me this week and I don't have much brainpower left.  Soo....I choose the dad in the Frances books. I love that he can play with Frances and Gloria and have fun, but he is clearly a parent and not their friend.  He means what he says and the badger children know it.  In Bedtime for Frances, he is patient and humors her attempts to stay up, but when he's had enough he lays out clear rules and consequences.  While Frances is tempted to push the boundary, she doesn't.  I also like that he has a deep appreciation for everything his wife cooks.

I think Jon would probably choose the dad in the Knufflebunny books by Mo Willems.  He loves the facial expressions on the dad as he has to do things like call another dad in the middle of the night because his daughter lost her beloved bunny.


If you're looking for more grown-up answers to question #6 go see Kendra at Catholic All Year.

Counting My Blessings (even when I don't want to...)

It's taken me three days to finish this.  Partly because I procrastinate moving pictures from my camera to my computer, partly because I'm horrible at choosing fonts in Picmonkey (which is not a big deal unless you are a perfectionist and certain that the whole life and death of your blog relies on one font choice), it's easier for me to wallow than be grateful, and largely because the weather's nice so we've been outside a lot.  Most of this was written on Tuesday, so if you're reading this and wondering about my inability to describe the weather, just think back to Tuesday.  This is more of a "weekbook" than a "daybook" at this point, but we'll just pretend it all happened in one day, okay?

Sitting:  
On a picnic bench at our neighborhood park while the girls eat lunch under the play equipment. 

Drinking:  
Peach sun tea.  A summer necessity.  I need to set another jar outside to brew today.

Listening to:  
The birds chirp.  The mourning doves are my favorite.  I can also hear the beep-beep of the construction equipment working up the street at the hospital.

Enjoying: 
Near-perfect weather.  The sun is shining without a cloud in the sky.  The temperature is cool enough to be comfortable in pants (if you have a bum thyroid like me, anyway) but warm enough to wear short sleeves.  There’s a slight breeze.  Days like this are so much more appreciated after all the rain we’ve had this spring and summer.  Tomorrow is supposed to be rainy again.

Cooking:
Hmm…well, I didn’t burn anything this week, so there’s something.  I baked a dozen of these to take to Jazz in June and froze the rest of the dough in 36 scoops to bake as needed.....or wanted.  Cookies are not really a necessity, I suppose.  I need to find some new summer salads.  I would eat nothing but salads and sandwiches all summer if I could, but Jon and the girls need a little more variety.  Suggestions?

Making:  
So many things for school - lesson plan forms, history lessons, science book lists, co-op memory work activities, map stickers, file folder games, preschool literacy activities for an active four-year old who wants to read like her big sister.  And lists.  I'm always making lists.  I can't get anything done without a list.

Learning: 
That hair dryers and hot flashes do not mix.  Especially in an already steamy, post-shower tiny, windowless bathroom.  I might have scared Meredith in my rush to find the nearest oscillating fan.

Thinking:
Not much.  Insomnia has wiped me out the last few days.  Very few brain cells up and running.  And the ones that are have been taken over by memory work songs that the girls insist on listening to over and over in the van. So mostly I think things like "The colonists paid high TAXES on suuuuugarrr and tea...." and "A pronoun is a word that takes, word that takes, word that takes, a pronoun is a word that takes the place of a noun."

Smiling at:
I looked up from what I was doing on Monday and saw this walking past me.  I love that anytime they wear something like this they truly think it’s one of the most beautiful outfits on the planet. I really wish I'd taken a side shot of this.

Praying for: 
+ Acceptance of God's will in our lives.
+Answers regarding why I am miscarrying repeatedly and the odds of it continuing to happen.
+All those who struggle with infertility and/or miscarriage.  
+Patience.
+A friend from high school who was recently diagnosed with cancer.  
+My children as they struggle to learn self-control and deal with disappointment. 
+My husband who has to live with me.

What I’m thankful for: 
*My husband who has near-endless amounts of patience with me….and who has an office to play in and a garage to organize when he runs out of patience.  
* Jocelyn’s love for books. 
* Meredith’s ability to say something funny just when we all need a laugh.  
*Summer. The heat, the flowers, the green grass, the ability to shoo the children outdoors and latch the door while I read a book and sip tea in my rocking chair on the mostly bug-free sunporch. 
*Flower beds and flower pots that haven’t been eaten by the rabbits.  
*The pretty fence around my vegetable garden that is rabbit proof. 
*The opportunity to introduce the girls to a “poison berry” bush in our park.  I don’t know what kind of bush it really is, but we had one growing next to our front porch when I was little and I have many fun memories of playing with the flowers and berries it produced.
*The downtown library's children's room.  The girls love that it has a felt board and a few toys.  I got  a kick out of the outspoken two year old who chatted with me.  

Working on:
✔︎ Portion control and better lunch choices. 
✔︎Exercising in the morning if insomnia subsides.   
✔︎Checking one or two fun summer activities off our list this week.
✔︎Cleaning the storage and laundry rooms on the next rainy day - that’s the only time I am willing to spend summer days in the basement.....or the NEXT next rainy day.  It rained today (Thursday) but we chose to build a nest of cushions on the sunporch and read a stack of books fresh from the library while it rained.
✔︎Deadheading the daisies and daylilies so they will continue to bloom.
✔︎Finding a balance between playtime and worktime.

Secondary Infertility is .......(Part 2)

As I mentioned yesterday, I've been on the fence about what focus to pursue with this blog.

 I could unload all the horrible, yucky stuff about secondary infertility and miscarriage until I get it all out of my system.  The problem with that is that it's not all I think about and it doesn't consume my entire life.  I also don't want to seem like I'm whining all the time.  Yep, part of my life really stinks and I pray it were different.  I also know that there are so many others who have been given much heavier crosses to bear.  I need to remind myself occasionally to count my blessings instead of my burdens.

I could focus just on the light fluffy fun stuff - silly things my girls do, my domestic failures, fun link-ups, etc., but that's not all of who I am either.  Besides, there are only so many ways I can write about my knack for burning dinner before we all get bored.

That leaves me with what I originally said I'd do - a mixture of the two.  Despite my concerns that people may comment on the state of my mental health after I follow up a post about how much I want another baby with a story about how bananas the two children I have drive me, that's exactly what I'll do.  Because THAT is my life, thanks in part to massively imbalanced hormones that refuse to be subdued.  Be glad you don't have to spend time in my head - it's a scary place.  So comment away.

Today, as the post title suggests, I'll return to the topic that I started this blog with - what secondary infertility means to me.  It's taken me a while to get back to this, partly because my miscarriages have been on my mind more than infertility, and partly because it took me a while to sort my running list into categories and add checkboxes so I can mark off when I've written about each thought.  It's still not in a spreadsheet, but this will have to suffice. 

Okay, now that I've bored you all into clicking over to a more interesting, less wordy part of the internet, here goes.....


Secondary Infertility is....

Seeing pregnant bellies everywhere
You know how after you learn a new word, you suddenly see that word in all sorts of places?  Or after you purchase that car that you think is such a unique color that you'll be able to spot it in even the most crowded parking lot, but then you realize every fourth car on the road is that same exact color?  The same goes for pregnant women.  As soon as you find yourself unable to conceive (or carry a baby to term), suddenly all you can see is an army of women waddling toward you.

 Jocelyn scribbled this when she was 18 months old, just a week before Meredith was born.  Does anyone else see a pregnant woman, or is it just me?

Some of the infertility resources tell you to steer clear of places expectant women are likely to be.  I have no idea how easy that is for women with primary infertility, but it's darn near impossible for those of us with secondary infertility.  Pretty much anywhere the girls enjoy going - the library, the parks, the children's museum, to name a few - are full of young, growing families.  Add in participation at a church that is full of families open to life and weekly errand days that are shared with retired people and other stay at home moms.  Unless we stayed home every day and kept the shutters closed (which introverted me is more than willing to do, but the girls aren't on board), I'm bound to bump into a belly or two or ten nearly every day.

A lot of days, I have no problem with that.  I won't lie and say I don't notice, but I can laugh it off.  One day, about a year or so ago, I'd had one of those days when I couldn't turn around without feeling someone else's unborn baby kick me in the elbow.  That evening I turned on the tv to a cooking show on PBS, figuring that would be safe.  The chef was pregnant.  All I could do was laugh. 

Other days, it's much harder to take.  I'm pretty used to it now, so it doesn't bother me as often.  My hormones right now are in a really volatile state of attempting to  recover from miscarriage, adjusting to a supplement change, and probably entering a new phase of perimenopause.  That means I have no idea what emotion will dominate any given situation.  I'm a whole lot of fun.  Pray for Jon.

On Sunday, I found myself sitting in our usual spot in church, give or take a few pews.  For whatever reason, though, most of the people around us were not the ones we usually sit near .  One possible reason could be Meredith's month long regression into two-year-old behavior during Mass a few weeks back that caused everyone around us to find a new favorite pew.  Anyway, as I watched the pews fill in, I saw a young mom expecting a baby sitting a few rows in front of us.  Not a problem.  Then came a family with 6 or 7 young children and a mom who appeared to be in those uncomfortable last few weeks.  Hmm....still okay.  Another large family that will be adding a new member in a few months filed in behind us.  Seriously?  Where are the elderly people in the parish today?  I was still holding it together though.  Then, as we stood for the Gospel, a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention.  A boy a few pews up from us, put his hand on his mom's tummy to feel his baby brother or sister kicking.  That was the straw that broke me.

I spent the rest of Mass trying to refocus being attentive to the Mass and simultaneously attempting to pass off my tears as allergies.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to leak tears without any Kleenex?  I don't bring a purse into church anymore because it's too much of a temptation for Meredith, but I might need to take a pack of tissues with us in case my hormones get the better of me again.  I don't think my "wow these allergies are making my eyes water" nor my "I have such a headache I need to take my glasses off and rub my eyes (and then wipe my wet hands on my skirt)" tactics fooled anyone.  There will likely be a new group of people trying to avoid sitting near us next week.

Today was better.  We ran our weekly errands and despite the fact that I was sandwiched between two pregnant women in the checkout lane at the grocery store, my "allergies" didn't act up at all.  However, a few 80s songs playing on Spotify later in the afternoon caused a brief flare-up.  I'm not telling which songs.

Okay, is anyone still reading?  Probably not.  I don't blame you a bit.  If I wasn't writing it, I would have stopped reading too.  This is way too long, but I'm too tired to edit.  I'm just going to hit publish and go to bed so I can lie awake for a few hours courtesy of the return of my insomnia.

I'll be back tomorrow --or sometime later this week -- with a post about gratitude and there will likely be an amusing picture of at least one of the girls.

Answer Me This

 Where have I been lately asks no one?  Well I'll tell you anyway.  My last post knocked the energy out of me for a few days.  It was cathartic to write, but wore me out more than I had anticipated.  Once I'd recovered from that, I dove into prepping for next year's schoolwork and I managed to hot glue two of my fingers together and spent some time nursing my burns.  They didn't make typing feasible.  Since then I've composed a number of blog posts in my head, but can quite decide whether to focus more on the deep, dark, yucky stuff or the light, fluffy stuff.  For today, I'll avoid that decision and link up with Kendra for a round of Answer Me This.

1. Any big plans for the summer?
Nope.  Three summers ago, I was determined to not get to the end of the summer feeling like we'd missed doing some of the "summer" things.  I bought a big sheet of posterboard and made up a pretty calendar for June July and August.  I scheduled in all the things we wanted to do during the summer.  It was color-coded and had symbols for different types of activities and almost every day had something scheduled.  The first week of June I had jury duty.  No big deal.  I just moved a couple of things onto other days.  Plenty of summer left.  No need to panic.  The second week of June a family member became very ill and all of our summer plans went out the window.  I was stressed out because none of my plans, save for one barbecue, could be carried out.
Thankfully, I learned my lesson instead of trying harder the next year.  Now Jon, the girls, and I make a list at the beginning of the summer of all the things we'd like to do.  When we're looking for something to do, we consult the list and choose something.  Mostly we just play outside a lot.

2. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child?
We had a bathroom that was accessed through the bedroom I shared with my sister.  Between the end of the bathtub and the wall was a small closet.  At some point in my early childhood, I became convinced that a man lived in that closet.  When the closet door was opened he slid under the bathtub (there was a small opening in the wall on the bathtub side of the closet that supported this theory).  I spent many days and nights afraid that he would pop out of the bathroom and chase me or that I wouldn't pass the "feather" test that he performed each night while I was sleeping (loooong story that makes me seem weirder than many of you already know I am).  My mom had little tolerance for my belief in The Man in the Closet.  That hit an all time low when I became convinced that the new male employee at the local Ben Franklin store looked exactly like both The Man in the Closet AND the scary man from an episode  of The Love Boat.  Despite my pleas, she refused to call the police and forbid me to discuss it anymore.
What can I say? I read a lot of mysteries at a very early age and watched a few shows that were probably not appropiate for my age and imagination.

3. What is your favorite amusement park ride (can be a specific one at a specific park or just a type of ride)?
Well, since watching people swing on backyard swingsets makes me nauseated, I don't really do amusement park rides.  Boring, I know.


4. What's on your summer reading list?
I just finished In This House of Brede and am struggling to find another book that measures up to that one.  Jocelyn and I are reading Beezus and Ramona together.  She and I can both relate to Beezus, having been blessed with Ramona-like little sisters.  I have Pioneer Girl: The Annotated Autobiography on hold at the library.  I'm currently number 11 in line so I should get to read it before the summer is over.  If I can earn enough Swagbucks to buy them for free (no book budget for me), I want to read The Little Oratory and Abandonment to Divine Providence.  Otherwise, I plan my summer reading like I plan the rest of my summer, which is not much at all.
5. Have you ever fallen asleep in public?
I don't think I've fallen asleep in a large group of people.  I did, however, fall asleep once while watching a movie with my future sister-in-law and her husband the weekend I met them.  Jon and I had traveled to Wisconsin to visit them and I was used to going to bed early because of my job.  While watching a movie, I fell sound asleep with my head thrown back and my mouth wide open.  There was probably drooling involved.  The worst part was when I woke up.  When I'm woken up late and night, I don't completely wake up and tend to either repeat myself over and over or think everything is really funny.  That time it was the latter.  I still feel embarrassed thinking about it.  Fortunately, I married into a polite family and they will likely never mention it again.

6. What is your favorite smell?
Freshly mown grass because it means the weather is warm.  During the long, dreary winter, I make do with the scent of freshly baked bread.

I see some of the people linking up with Kendra are also doing the What I Wore Sunday linkup too.  I won't be doing that for several reasons.  1) I own exactly 2 summertime church outfits so that would get really boring really quickly, 2) Despite diet and exercise, I still can't shake these extra 30 pounds (thank you perimenopause), and 3) I saw a five year old at church today sitting a few pews up wearing the exact same outfit.  I'm not yet sure how I feel about that.  I'm trying to convince myself it makes me seem more youthful, but it's not working.....

Hopefully, I'll make a few decisions this week and get back to blogging more consistently.  In the meantime, go read Kendra's answers at Catholic All Year.

Catherine Thérèse

Today is June 1st.  June is my favorite month of the year.  Everything is green.  The sunshine is warm, but the air is not yet too humid.  All the summer activities are new and fun. Most years I pester Jon by counting down the days till June and reminding him how much I love this month.  Not this year.  Not once this spring have I talked about how excited I am about June arriving.

Today is June 1st.  It's a Monday, so the girls and I did our weekly grocery shopping and errand running.  Jon, being the good steward of our money that he is, paid the bills and updated our finances.  Neighbors mowed lawns and kids played outside.  Just another normal day.

Except that today is June 1st.  While the day goes on as normal and I've tried to keep busy, my thoughts keep returning to what I once thought would be happening today.

Today is June 1st.  The due date of the baby I miscarried in October.  I know that chances are high, that even if she had lived, today would not be her birthdate.  She might have been like Meredith who arrived a week early (and self-delivered!).  She might have been like Jocelyn and stayed an extra week or two snuggled up inside me, reluctant to leave her familiar surroundings for parts unknown.  I'll never know when her birthdate would have been, so I've clung to June 1st as that date.

I've been dreading this day for the last 7.5 months, mostly because I didn't know what the day would bring.  I'm a planner.  I like to know what to expect and I couldn't plan this day.  I couldn't even plan what I wanted to happen.  Would it be better to spend the day crying and mourning my baby?  Or would it be better to just move through the day pretending that nothing had happened?  I didn't know.  Reading the experiences of others didn't seem to help.  Most people who have written about this speak of how grateful they are to know that their babies are in heaven.  Most of those people are also writing from the perspective of having had a successful subsequent pregnancy.

So how is the day working out for me?  I AM happy my baby is in Heaven.  I am also sad that my arms are still empty and will likely remain that way.  I am happy that I was given the gift of not encountering one pregnant belly or newborn baby while running errands this morning - I can't remember the last time that happened.  I am thankful that my girls have sensed (without my having said a word) that I needed good behavior from them today.  Mondays are often our roughest day of the week.  Today, both girls have complied with every request I've made of them without complaint and have played together without any bickering.  I am sad that I am the only one who remembers what today is.  I don't expect anyone else to remember (or even to have known in the first place) but I do so hate that no one but me and maybe Jon will remember that she existed.

So, because of that, please indulge my need to share what little information I have of my baby's short life......or don't....that's the beauty of reading this, right?  You can just click away if I start to bore you and I'll never know.

Jocelyn's drawing of our baby in Heaven with the angels

The story starts on September 25, 2014.  I was 4 days late, but due to my bad history with pregnancy tests, I was reluctant to take one.  My chart was all over the place that month and it looked a lot like that of someone with PCOS.  That's one of the few infertility diagnoses I don't have and I was angry that I might have it.  I had also started a new herbal supplement that was supposed to help some with my endometriosis but can sometimes interfere with your cycle.  I was angry that I'd found something that had made me feel better in such a short time, but now might be making other things worse.  After 4 days of waiting, I gave in and bought a pregnancy test.

As I sat in the bathroom waiting for the inevitable negative result, I was angry that I was forced to stare at one more negative test.  Then, as the timer wound down on the two-minute waiting period, a faint second pink line appeared.  I'd like to say that I was overwhelmed with excitement and happiness, but I wasn't.  I was - you guessed it - angry that I had managed to buy a faulty test that gave me a faint positive.  I was certain that I was going to get my hopes up and then the blood test would show that I wasn't really pregnant after all.  When I was done sharing a few choice words with God, I looked back down at the test and saw that the faint line had darkened from a "maybe that's a line" to "yep, that's definitely a line".

At that point, excitement and a little panic set in.  I spent the rest of the afternoon waiting for the nurse to call me back, getting blood work done, and starting on progesterone injections.  After two years of trying, you'd think that I would have had an elaborate, or at least fun, way to share the news with Jon, but I didn't.  I just sort of blurted it out after dinner when the girls were in another room.  He was shocked, but happy, and I of course managed to ruin the moment by pointing out that we shouldn't get too excited because I could lose the baby (just like I did a few months later with my fourth pregnancy).

The next few days were some of the happiest days of the last few years of my life.  I was happy to experience each of the pregnancy symptoms I had.  I was happy to not feel a need to bypass or avert my eyes when walking past the baby aisles at stores.  I was thrilled to notice that the owl pellets we dissected at co-op made me queasy like the other two expectant moms in the group.  I was so excited that in a few weeks, I could finally share a pregnancy announcement with my Bible study group.  Despite my warning to Jon, I googled fun ways to share our news at Thanksgiving with our relatives and at Christmas with everyone else. 

On October 1st, I noticed that I was cramping all day long.  I was mildly worried, but since I have always had what my doctor refers to as a "cranky uterus" I figured I was probably just not drinking enough, or I was holding Meredith too much or something minor like that.  The next day I had no cramping at all and I waffled between feeling like the previous day's cramping was just one day of normal stretching and growing and feeling like something was wrong.  On Friday, the girls and I headed to our homeschool co-op where the main activity for the day was dissecting earthworms.  The other two pregnant moms needed to take breaks from or avoid this activity all together.  I noticed that the smell was not bothering me at all, nor did I feel queasy or in need of a snack all morning long.

The rest of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday I continued to have minimal symptoms.  I was queasy only if I really thought about being queasy.  I wasn't falling asleep on the couch at 7:30 any more.  I had a few symptoms but they all seem to be lessening in intensity and frequency.  Sunday evening, however, I felt so nauseated I couldn't even move off of the couch for an hour or so.  I remember telling Jon that I had been worrying for no reason.  This baby was obviously doing just fine.

I don't remember anything about Monday October 6th, until bedtime.  Jon was already in bed, asleep, when I woke him up to tell him I was bleeding.  I had bled some with Meredith early in that pregnancy, and while I was worried, I never felt certain that I was losing her.  I knew immediately with this pregnancy that I was having a miscarriage.  That was absolutely one of the longest, hardest nights of my life.  Jon stayed up with me trying to comfort me.

Jon stayed home the next day and we shared the news with family and friends.  My doctor's office was closed that day but I was able to speak with the doctor who felt that I was not miscarrying.  By the afternoon the bleeding had subsided and I felt both foolish for telling everyone I'd miscarried when maybe I hadn't and angry that my doctor was telling me that I wasn't miscarrying when I knew deep down I was.  It's another day I don't remember much about.

At the end of the week I had an ultrasound that confirmed the miscarriage.  It was a horrible experience, and yet, I'm so glad I have the pictures from that day.

I began having contractions the following Monday and after nearly 24 hours, the miscarriage was complete.  I was unable to find the baby.  The fact that I had to throw my baby in the trash is something I still haven't been able to get over.  I don't know if I ever will.  I know her soul is in Heaven, but I really wish I had been able to provide her with a more respectable burial place for her body.

I feel very strongly that the baby died on October 1.  For that reason, Jon and I chose to name her Catherine Thérèse.  Catherine after Saint Catherine of Siena, patron saint of miscarriages and Thérèse after Saint Thérèse of Lisieux whose feast day is October 1. 

If you're still reading after all of that, thank you for allowing me to share.  There is still a little bit of June 1st left.  I'm going to spend it folding laundry, making dinner, seeking the intercessory prayers of our two saints in Heaven, and playing with the two children we have here on Earth.

Tomorrow is June 2nd.  Just another normal day.  It's going to be sunny.  We're going to play outside and paint the screen door and go to Jazz in June.....and all the while a part of my heart will still be left on June 1st.