Life doesn't stop for the hard stuff.

I've been dreaming of writing this blog post for two and a half months.  I still am writing this post but it's not going to be as I envisioned it.  Instead of being a post filled with joy and brimming over with happiness, it'll be filled with bittersweet hope.  But it can't be any other way.  For that's how life is sometimes, isn't it?

To start, ten weeks ago I found out I was pregnant.  Two pink lines appeared instead of one.
This last week, however, my two pink lines weren't quite enough.

It's hard knowing I'll be doing this yet again but I'm at peace too.  This baby, my angel, is resting in God's own embrace.  Knowing my child is with the one person who could love and care for him/her as much as L and I do, helps me get through these sad days.

The things that hurt the worst are knowing this is another child I won't see doing all those 'firsts'. I won't spend hours trying to figure out who they look like.  I can't see them take that first step toward independance, or muddle my way through their teenage angst or see them graduate high school or enter into their own life.  There's so many things I'll miss and that tears me up inside more than the physical loss does.

Yet, I can't wallow in my grief either. As I wait for the physical parting to start, I know the spiritual parting has already happened and my baby is at peace and without pain.  It's been said God only gives you what you can handle and I firmly believe there's a very special place for babies taken too soon.  Perhaps they are guardian angels... All I know is that He wouldn't put me through this time and again if there wasn't some higher purpose for it.

The hardest thing about miscarriage is that there isn't a physical place to go to for closure like when an older family member dies.  There's no grave marker in a cemetery to place flowers at.  So many women make their own memorials.  Some make a box with ultrasound pictures and special mementos-perhaps a rattle or a pair of booties given specially for the baby. Others send out balloons with messages or seeds inside.  I have a quiet little place tucked into the trees where I plan to plant a bush or tree as my way of memorializing my babies.  It's the place I go to when I'm in need of solace and comfort for there, in the dappled shade of my own little 'secret garden', I feel most at peace.  It's as if my children are there, saying, "It's okay, Mom.  We're so happy where we are and Thank You for giving us life, as brief as it was. We love you."

I'm happy I have my V and my A and I am so very very aware of just how miraculous it is that I have them. My two precocious, precious children have made me smile through my tears and kept me in the Real World this last week when all I've wanted to do is crawl back in bed and pull the covers over my head. When all I wanted to do was hide from my troubles, they would do something to make me see life didn't quit on Tuesday afternoon-like A taking off her diaper and promptly proving she's not ready for potty training or V hauling in a board so he could go 'hunting' and 'fishing' in the living room.  They've kept me smiling instead of crying and helped start healing my bruised and battered heart with slobbery kisses and hugs from jam-sticky hands.  Just today, they were sitting on the chair 'singing' at the top of their lungs while 'reading' their books. The sight made me laugh.  I mean, really laugh.  And laughter is the best medicine of all, right?

Mother's Day musings

This past Mother's Day, as with the last few Mother's Days, I celebrated my journey into Mommydom and I honored my mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmother(s), sister/sisters-in-law, aunts, and friends who have been blessed with children. Since I've had kids of my own, I've come to appreciate just how much my own mom did for me.  Thinking about it, she's had 27 years of washing seven kids worth of stinky gym socks and dirty underwear, picking up toys unnoticed until stepped upon, attending musical concerts from kindergarten choirs to high school band performances, disagreeing over chores not getting done and homework not being finished, tending to sick kids, planning high school graduation parties, navigating the minefield that makes up the teenage years, and more recently, sending her children off into the big bad world.  All while working nearly full time hours.  Now, some of us have married and have families of our own.  Some of us have gone on to college, graduated, and now have (or are looking for) 'real' jobs in the 'real' world.  It all makes me contemplate my own future as a parent.  I see my son wanting to do more for himself and if Daddy is heading out in the tractor, it's like I turn invisible. "Mom? What's a Mom? Dad, let's go.".  I see my daughter ready to launch herself out into her future (or at least off the living room couch) even though she isn't even two yet. It's my job to give my children the tools they need to succeed in life but I can't help my kids use them.  That's something they have to learn on their own. I can cushion my daughter's belly flop off the couch but I can't protect her from life and I'm learning to trust she and her brother can venture into life without me being there 24/7.  I can't stop every bump even though I want to.  So, Mother's Day has become a day of contemplation and a reminder for me to take the time to enjoy my children now because they are growing up oh so fast.  They can't stay little forever.

And on this past Mother's Day, as I honored my own mother as well as the other moms in my life, I also said a prayer for all those women who yearn to be moms, feel they are a mom yet have empty arms, and have troubles (whatever they may be) making their dreams of motherhood come true.  Why do I do this?  Simple.  Because I was one of them just a few years ago and I still am one of them, in some ways.  It took two years and three miscarriages before I successfully carried a baby to term.  V was my miracle baby in more ways than one.  A has just reinforced my idea that children are gifts from God because, despite numerous tests being run, I'm still having problems sustaining a pregnancy and my doctors can't say for certain why that is.  I would love to have more children and I don't feel that our family is complete.  Yet I'm content with the two children I have. Knowing what it's like on both sides of the coin makes for a bittersweet yet joyous holiday.  There's joy in knowing I'm a mom because of V and A.  And there's bittersweetness in knowing I have six (yes, six) other babies who aren't here with me.  So, when I celebrate the motherhood of all the moms I know and love, I also honor the ones who-like myself-have empty arms but yearn to be a mother more than anything else.

The Fourth Go-Round

Seven weeks ago, I was eight weeks pregnant.

Six weeks ago, I wasn’t.

Yes, I have had another miscarriage. Labs, an ultrasound, and talking to the doctor revealed that it was a ‘false pregnancy’. It started out normally but something happened and the pregnancy just stopped developing. There’s no way to tell what went wrong but the doctor is confident that I will have a normal one the next time round though she recommended I go back on the progesterone pills.

In the recent weeks, as a way to keep my mind occupied, I’ve researched possible causes of progesterone deficiency in hopes of finding a way to fix it. I discovered that I am severely deficient in zinc and iodine. Along with my struggle to lose weight and three prior miscarriages, this points to a possible thyroid problem which is a leading cause of hormone imbalances. I am currently working with a nutritionist and my doctor to see if a diet change and the addition of some new multi-vitamins will correct the problem. So far, I am seeing positive results after only a month. I feel more energetic, I’m eating better, I’ve lost weight, and I sleep better at night. I feel hopeful that we found the cause of my hormone issues. It’s encouraging to me and I can only hope that this keeps up.

For the moment, I am focusing on me and getting healthy, figuring out a lifestyle that works best, and drawing up plans for our house addition. It’s enough for now.

And the Countdown Starts...

36 weeks. That's what I am at today. *Only* four weeks left to go. (Well, if I stay true to Salmen tradition, I will go over by two weeks and have a hefty baby.) I honestly never thought I would get to this point. It seems so surreal in a way. Even my doctor had to ask at my last appointment, "So, did you expect to make it this far?" Nope. Miscarriage is a very scary, very emotionally draining experience and it has colored everything I've gone through with this pregnancy. I kept expecting it to happen but it never did. And here I am, looking like I swallowed a beach ball, ready to have my baby anytime in the next six weeks. (I'm going with six so that I am not disappointed when the baby doesn't come early.)

It's really hitting me hard these days-in about a month, I am going to be a MOM. How did this happen? (That is a rhetorical question, not a literal one...) I had a dream a while back about losing my baby at someone's house and it got to me. I worry that I am not ready for this responsibility. I wonder what life will be like when it's not just Lanny and me, if I can handle the middle of the night feedings and crying, colicky fits and the teething and everything that goes along with raising kids. I can't keep my own head screwed on straight these days so am I going to do something dumb like leave my baby at home when I go to town? I know these are all questions built upon the typical first-time-mom anxieties, but I still worry. I know I won't forget my baby somewhere and that Lanny and I will somehow manage to raise this child despite the sleep deprivation and stress because other parents have done it before us. I know that I will find the fortitude to navigate the path of motherhood. I just can't get that darn dream out of my head.

Miscarriage and Me

I've wanted to write an entry about miscarriage for a while now. For some, miscarriage is a personal thing. It's something to deal with privately. I, however, find that I have this almost insatiable need to know more about them. I need to learn about miscarriage and what doctors think. I need to know other women have coped. It's as if, by knowing more, I can better come to terms with what happened. I have also found it therapeutic to talk about it. It's my 'vent', because if I don't get these feelings out in the open, I get overwhelmed. I also look at it as part of my healing. I am coming to terms with what has been happening over the last year and a half. I am seeing that I can move past this and I am a stronger woman for my experiences. I have had several questions in recent months on how I have handled my multiple miscarriages, possible signs of a miscarriage, the unknown cause of each one, and how I am approaching my fertility issues now. Most people who ask are curious. They don't know much about miscarriage as they've never had to deal with one. Others ask to see how their experiences line up with mine. Some ask simply to learn. I plan to write a few more entries on miscarriage answering the more common questions I have received. If you have a specific query, let me know via email, phone, or in person and I will try to address it as best I can.