33 Weeks

Back in June, my brother's wife wished very lovingly that I would be as big as a house on Christmas.
I'm not quite as big as a house, but getting close!

32 Weeks and Confessions about Collections

Dash and I have made it another week. We're down to 37 days until our birthing day and I'm both petrified and excited.  I am so very ready to hold my little girl but that also means not being pregnant anymore.

As miserable as pregnancy can be for many women, I don't get sick, I can still bend down to tie my shoes, I did 45 minutes of yoga last night without breaking a sweat, and there's something truly amazing about both feeling and watching her dance within me.

I love being pregnant.

When I can set aside the anxiety, the pain from my injections, and just enjoy the moments, there's something very powerful about growing a baby. Perhaps this is a little sacrilegious, but as powerful as God is, he can't do this one thing and so he has gifted his daughters with the responsibility of growing life. He relies on us to provide bodies for his children. Without us, the Plan of Salvation, of eternal families, falls flat on its face. I feel trusted when I'm pregnant. Valued. Powerful. My body is a sacred place, a temple that houses the spirit of one of God's children.

And perhaps that's why battling infertility and pregnancy loss has been so hard. I took it rather personally that my Father in Heaven didn't trust me to raise those babies. I felt unworthy.  Broken. I had done something to deserve what had happened.

I know my Father in Heaven doesn't work that way when it comes to creating life, but knowledge doesn't always remove the pain, much like healing doesn't remove scars.

These may be the last 37 days that I'll ever be pregnant. My husband and I are open to having another baby, but being open to the idea doesn't mean that it will happen.

I'm not like the woman in my Lovenox group who, at 8 weeks postpartum from her 6th baby has found out she's now pregnant with her 7th.

I have 37 days left to enjoy those kicks and wiggles, the hiccups, the twists, and the stretching. Just 37 days to be her whole world, her temple.

In 37 days, my role transforms from one of creator to something new. Something different.

In 37 days, I am no longer the womb from which she relies on for life.

I am her mother.

I don't believe you have to give birth to be a mother, and I would think that any woman who has ever held a life in her body and lost it as well as any mother through adoption would understand what I'm trying to say (and probably failing miserably at!)

And in that 37 days, I have to get my *#&$^% together.

Confession time: My hospital bills from Jackson's stillbirth and the car accident later that week went to collections months ago.

Why? Because when it comes right down to it, who wants to deal with that kind of crap when in the throws of grief and then anxiety?

Nobody.

Some Most people are probably able to realize that not paying bills leads to collections, but even knowing that, I didn't get them paid. I couldn't pay them.

Did I have the money? Absolutely.

The time? Definitely.

The energy to write the dang check? Yup.

The emotional wherewithal? NO.

The car accident bills should have been taken care of by the responsible party's insurance company but that hasn't happened yet.

My bill hasn't been paid because, somehow, paying it seemed wrong. I mentioned months ago that the hospital incorrectly billed my insurance company for a semi-private room; a room I never occupied. I went straight from labor and delivery to my home.

Today, over 9 months after those bills were acquired, I made what I hope is the second and last phone call regarding those bills.

Both bills have been removed from collections and are back "in-house" while the billing department at the hospital reviews my medical records to confirm that I did indeed get discharged straight from labor and delivery and while the insurance company continues to work through the medical billing mess on their end.

I will still have to pay my co-pay for Jackson's birth, but at least this time I'll feel like I'm paying the right bill and not just whatever the hospital billing department thought I should have paid because they assumed I went home with a baby.

Perhaps, if I am very lucky, I can pay for Dash's co-pay at the same time as Jackson's. It will feel a lot less painful that way--like something that went very very wrong has, in some small way, been righted.

In 37 days, everything changes: our Rainbow Dash will be here.

#DashDays

31 Weeks and Scheduling

I have a sneaking suspicion the next 40 days are going to go by much faster than the last 40!

My OB's office called yesterday and wanted to know if I had a personal preference for which OB I wanted for delivery.  I don't really have a preference, so they said they'll notify the hospital to contact me with an induction date.  I can go as early as January 21st but no later than January 28th.

I'm hoping for the 22nd for a variety of reasons.  The first is that I flat out love Thursdays. It's the day I've always picked to make changes to my girls' routines (such as removing the pacifier for my oldest, starting "Cry it Out" with my second, etc) and a new sister is absolutely the start of a new routine.

Everything looks good on a Thursday, because the next day is always Friday and who doesn't love Fridays?

In addition, that gives me 3 days of work that week, one of which should be an easier-than-normal day because it's both a federal holiday and a school holiday, then 2-3 days in the hospital, and I can come home most likely on Saturday and have all day Sunday to be with local family/friends who may want to visit if I'm up to it.

I'll be taking the following week off from work and returning to work February 2nd. In an ideal world, I could take 8-12 weeks off but that would royally stink for all of my clients and for my own bank account.  Lifting will be limited to the weight of my baby for 6 weeks or so and to help with that, my friend and back-up provider will be around extensively to help me out. She'll take the lion's load for the first week or two and then we can taper it off from there.

My recovery from my previous 3 deliveries was incredibly fast and I have every reason to hope and believe that this recovery will be just as easy.

The day after I delivered my second

It's the lack of sleep I am most worried about. I've been through the "so tired you hurt" bit a couple times before and it's not much fun!  But again, it only lasts a few weeks and then my babies start sleeping for longer stretches and I can feel human again.

In theory, that is.

With an induction date in the works, I contacted Alicia, the nurse who was so wonderful during Jackson's delivery.  Her children are both grown and I hoped that her schedule would be pretty flexible so she could attend to me during Dash's delivery.  This was her response to my email yesterday:

Talia,

I am so excited for you! I can't believe how fast time has gone by. Yes I will come in whichever day you want that week. Just let me know when your induction is scheduled, or I'll keep a lookout. My week is open, so feel free to pick whatever day you want. It's going to be a wonderful birthday and thank you so much for letting me part of your family's special day. Let me know if there is anything I can do as well to help ahead of time:)

Looking forward to seeing you again,

Alicia is right: Time really has gone by quickly. It was only a year ago that I had my ultrasound with Jackson to confirm that my pregnancy was located where it needed to be and was a singleton. So much has happened since then!

Yesterday while the children were napping, I was overcome with emotions.  Each of the last 4 nights I have dreamt of my mother and I know that's because she was in the delivery room with us when our other daughters were born and this time she can't be there in the same sense. When I mentioned this to my husband, he said, "She'll still be there."

He's right. I know he's right. And I think these dreams may be preparing me in some way to be ready for her. It has been a while since I felt her as strongly as I used to but I know she wouldn't miss the delivery of her granddaughter for anything.

Mom holding my second while we're still in the delivery room.

If you knew my mother, you'd know that not even death can stop that woman when she wants to be somewhere!

A picture of her from her senior recital at BYU sits on the shelf in what will be Dash's room, right in my line of site from the chair where I intend to spend hours upon hours nursing my baby girl.

I have roughly 43 days to finish getting that room ready and at the rate I've been going, it will take every single one of those days. . .

31 weeks down, about 6 to go.

30 Weeks

I've now surpassed the 30 week mark!

My weight is creeping up faster than I'd expected at this point, but the reality is that even as big as I am, I don't feel as big as I look and my jeans still fit great. I've been this weight before with my other full-term pregnancies, but I remember feeling like a big fat pregnant lady who couldn't get off the couch without help.

That's not the case this time around at all. I still have a ton of mobility and can do things like put on my shoes and socks without a ton of effort. Driving is easier than I'd expected, too. Early last month I was having trouble turning my torso, but some exercises have really helped out.

I met with Dr. H again today and with the nurse practitioner at my OB's office earlier this week. Dash is still measuring well. She's not as big as I thought she'd be, but Dr. H says she may just be poised for another growth spurt.

Today her estimated weight is 3lb 10oz, putting her in the 58th percentile.

When I go back in two weeks from now, they'll run the first biophysical profile, which is a combination of tests that include fetal heart monitoring, ultrasound, muscle strength testing, fetal movement, etc. If anything looks suspicious, I'll either go in again in a few days OR get sent to the hospital for delivery. These will be done at each appointment from here on out.

The only other notable change is that the doctor now is pretty sure I can make it to 38 weeks and wants me to plan on that, rather than the 37 weeks we'd been working off for the last few months. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that, but I also know that this baby could decide to come on her own before then anyway!

So now we wait, plan, and I keep sticking to my diet, even if I really miss potatoes!

My Birth Plan

For those uninitiated in taking control of their birthing options, many first time moms and experienced moms create a birth plan, or a list of their preferences for their birthing experience.

The birth plan can contain information on pain management, infant care, words or phrases for the nursing staff to avoid using, and other things that the mother feels is important.

Although I have never made a formal birth plan, I have always discussed my plans with my husband and my mother so that both were aware of my preferences.

This time around, my medical and mental condition is very different than with my last live birth and I am making a formal birth plan to take with me to the hospital when it comes time to deliver Dash. I don't want something to be forgotten, since my mom is no longer there to pipe up with my opinion if I flustered along the way and because I hope to do things differently than with my other live births. My husband and I have talked about these and he understands my reasons for the changes, but I don't want something to be forgotten, so I'm writing them down.

Each item on my plan is dependent on Dash's intended live birth, as a stillbirth would change several of these.

I am attempting to do a natural childbirth, or as close to one as I can manage, knowing that my labor will likely need to be induced with pitocin. Once labor begins, there's a good chance that the pitocin can be turned off if my past experience is any indicator, since I've had that happen in the past.

The reasons for the natural birth are based on two things: a strong desire to see if my body can do something right and because I'm hoping to stay on lovenox until delivery and with twice daily dosing, it may well be 12-24 hours after labor begins until I'd even be allowed an epidural. As an anticoagulant, lovenox can cause very serious problems with an epidural, so a full 24 hours after the last dose must pass before an anesthesiologist will administer the medication.

My first and second labors were roughly 13 hours and 10 hours respectively,  My third labor, the stillbirth of our son, was started entirely from scratch and took under 8 hours, so I want to be prepared, because I may not have a choice on the epidural even if I change my mind!


Birth Plan

• My son was stillborn in March. This birth is emotional for me. Be HONEST.
• Do not offer pain meds
• Do not check my cervix unless I request it.
• Wireless monitoring, with intent to use the tub and allow me to walk/move
• Hold baby immediately after birth, allowing her to nurse if she wants
• Delayed cord clamping, prefer to wait until placenta delivers
• NO antibiotic eye ointment
• Vitamin K and heel prick: YES
• Vaccines: NO
• Cloth diapers ONLY
• Placenta will be encapsulated

Many women write out long, detailed versions in paragraph form, but I prefer something short because I think it'll be easier to follow this way. I imagine that nurses just don't want to read 3 pages of birth plans for every patient they see each day and even if they did, remembering everything wouldn't be easy. This list has 11 items on it and can easily fit on one page in large print for every person that walks into my delivery room to see.

There are additional items that women delivering in other hospitals would need to consider.  Such things would include specifics on the use of pacifiers, the use of formula, when to bathe the baby, and preferences for rooming in or time in the newborn nursery.

The hospital I'm delivering at already has those policies in place, and they are all policies that are in line with my preferences, so I feel it isn't necessary for me to include them in my birth plan. Why add to the list if it's already policy, right?

A few of the items on the list are absolutely non-negotiable, such as the vaccines, eye goop, and cloth diapers. In the event that something goes badly, I know I will have to adjust my plan. For example, if my daughter's heart beat suddenly goes crashing and doesn't come back up, I know I'm in for an emergency c-section that will require general anesthesia if I haven't had an epidural. This would also mean I don't get to hold Dash right after birth, the cord clamping would likely not be delayed by very much, and nursing would be forced to wait a little, too.  I can roll with the punches if needed, but I hope this birth is as smooth as each of my others has been.

Now, if I could just get this little girl to keep her head down, I'd feel a whole lot better about this plan!

29 Weeks

Dash and I have officially made it to 29 weeks. This is sort of the magic window where our baby could arrive and her chances of having no long term problems from a premature delivery are in our favor.
I feel like saying, "Phew!" but I can't quite do that yet.
Yesterday afternoon, starting around 3:30, it felt like all heck broke loose in my body. I started having some pretty crazy contractions that were coming every 5-10 minutes, even when I sat down, and they were the kind that stop you in your tracks because you can't move. Sitting for long wasn't much of an option to try and get them to calm down, since I still had 3 daycare children in my home and those infants don't exactly feed themselves (yet!)
By the time work finished, my oldest daughter had a piano lesson scheduled, and I knew I could send my husband for fast food for him and both of our daughters, but that seemed horribly unfair to me because it meant I'd be the one left opening a box of organic black bean soup while they got burgers and fries.
I love fries. No ketchup--just plenty of salt and that crispy, soft combination that makes my mouth water.
I can't have fries right now, so the thought of letting them eat what I couldn't have while I was already feeling miserable just didn't appeal to me in the slightest.
So I grabbed my water bottle and got to work on the dinner I'd been looking forward to, knowing that I might just have to bail on it part way through anyway.
With the exception of the crust, I made a completely-from-scratch chicken pot pie for dinner last night. It was heavenly!! And I managed to get it all done without feeling like I'd seriously overdone myself, although it was close.
My husband was beyond shocked later that evening to find out that I hadn't used any canned soups to make the sauce, which also meant that the meal was much healthier than he'd thought and he could feel less guilty about stuffing himself so badly. Chicken, chicken stock, lots and lots of veggies, no potatoes since I'm not allowed, some seasonings, and flour as the thickening agent . . . simple and divine.
The girls and I did pigged out, too. I made a huge pie and the entire thing was gone before we got up from the table.
I hadn't expected that, but it also means I know exactly what to do with some of the leftover turkey meat after Thanksgiving in a couple of days. I have another set of pie crusts and will be using them to make a turkey pot pie to stick in the freezer for a meal sometime in the coming weeks.
The best part about the chicken or turkey pot pies is that as long as I skip the crust, which is easy enough for me to do, they're pretty close to dairy free and contain no whole grains, the two items my other daughters had problems with when nursing. So if the pot pie stays in the freezer for a couple of months, I still have an easy meal that I won't need to worry about breastmilk sensitivities with.

When it comes to sensitivities, my lovenox injections sure are giving me a run for my money these days. I'm not exactly sure why, but I'm getting hard lumps under almost all of them now and many are bruising pretty badly again. I suspect the lumps may be related to the colder temperature in the house, and thus the cooler temp of my fingers and skin, but I can't be sure.
You can't see the lumps in the photos, but you can see the bruising. These were taken tonight. They aren't the clearest photos in the world because my nice point-n-shoot camera had an unfortunate accident while we were in Tennessee and my 4 year old dropped it at the Hard Rock Cafe. . .

For clarification, none of the spots are moles. Instead, they're the pinpricks sometimes leftover from the injection. The rules for my shots include the following:

1. No injecting into a bruise
2. No injecting into a lump
3. Must be in the belly or love handles
4. Cannot be within 2 inches of the belly button
5. Must be able to "pinch and inch" for the injection site but no more, no less
6. Use all 4 quadrants of the belly area

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize that with all the extra bruising and lumping, I'm rapidly running out of locations to inject!
In the top picture, you may be able to see a darker bruise close to the waist on my pants. I used that spot in sheer desperation, knowing that the lower areas bruise, lump and hurt much worse than the ones above my belly button. The injection doesn't hurt going in, but the bruise is tender for several days. That particular shot was done Saturday night, so it's already 3 days old and looks as fresh as if it had been done this morning.
I will add that Dr. H had me get a cream that helps with bruising called Arnicare, and it really does speed up the healing when I remember to use it! The Arnicare also smells really nice. It's classified as unscented so the smell is likely from the Arnica montana, which is the active ingredient. The cream is also paraben free, which makes me happy!
My husband and I are also making some progress on a name for Dash. We certainly haven't settled on one, but we have some parameters that we agree on and it's helping.
If I have another few nights like last night, we'll need that name ready much sooner than Christmas, which is only 31 days away!
In the meantime, I need to remember to drink, drink, drink my water and not let time go by while I'm busy at work.

28 Weeks and Nesting

I'm not entirely sure if it really counts as nesting, but the need to cook and prepare for Dash's arrival has set in.

This need hasn't just set in for me, either. My husband, who has been even more afraid of losing his daughter than I have, is feeling it, too. In fact, on Sunday evening he announced her impending arrival on facebook, which was a big step for him!

Many of you know that Talia and I lost our stillborn son this past March, after several years of setbacks and discouragement in growing our family. While she has been relatively open about events in the months since, I have been much more circumspect. But things have been humming along and we are reaching "safe" ground, so it is with tremendous happiness and excitement that I acknowledge that we're about two months out from welcoming a baby girl.

 — feeling blessed.

He then included one of the 3D pictures of our daughter.

For him, this is a huge step in emotionally preparing for the birth of our daughter. When he posts just about anything, there's a reason for it. Generally, his posts are Civil War anniversary snip-its or links that he's sharing that he finds humorous or informative.  To share something as near and dear to his heart as my pregnancy let me know that he's as ready as he'll ever be.

But we still don't have a name!!

My sewing materials are almost completely relocated to the basement. There are just a few odds and ends left as well as my serger, which I'll move down as soon as I have the space for it. Anyone who has ever "moved" within their own home knows that sometimes you have to make a really big mess before everything comes together.  We're past the worst of the mess, but I have one more shelf to install and then I can move the last few fabric bins into position.

And the diaper sewing will begin once that is done!

I have 2 days to get this done. Why? Well, Saturday the weather is supposed to be decent, so we're going to the storage unit to get all the boxes and bins of Christmas stuff. In order to make room for that, the crib needs to be in the baby's room, rather than disassembled and taking up space under the stairs.

My husband insists that the Christmas things will stay in their boxes until after Thanksgiving, but if I just happen to find space to put the tree up . . .well . . . it might just make it's way out of the box a during naptime next week.

I've made some helpful changes in my routine over the last week and feeling the improvement. I purchased a larger yoga ball and inflated it fully.  It's just a little big, but as it deflates a little in the next week or two it will be perfect. I'm using the ball to do some of the exercises I do at the chiropractor each visit. One of them does a really good job of stretching my psoas muscles and the impact on the muscles in my abdomen is noticeable! Most evenings, the muscles are still tight, but not anywhere near as painful as they've been the last couple of months.  I'm doing the exercise every 4-5 hours during the day and sometimes just sitting on the ball when the tv is on, rocking in an X motion, stretching my back from side to side, or generally staying in movement.

Movement is getting more restricted, but I want to make sure that as many of my muscles are limber as possible so that I can achieve any position I want during labor and delivery. The most restrictive motion right now is bending over, which is understandable considering the size of my belly.  If you've ever tried to bend over and tie your shoes with a basketball or soccer ball in front of you, it's not easy! But with the new exercises, I'm finding that I can bend in other ways that compensate for my inability to fold myself in half. I had lost my ability to look fully over my shoulder when backing up my van but realized today as I left Home Depot that I could do it again and that it was quite comfortable, too.

It's amazing how such a simple thing can feel so good! I hate relying on cameras and mirrors when I back-up, so that ability to turn my torso put a big, dopey grin on my face that nobody saw but me!

I was fortunate enough to be given a bunch of maternity clothes, some to keep and some on loan.  They fit great, but since my daughters all carry out front, I have hit that point where most of my clothes no longer cover my belly and I'm left with a 2" section where the stretchy part of my pants shows. This striped shirt is one of just a few that stay completely down.  The black one below, which is what I was wearing earlier to day, is a prime example of what most of my wardrobe is now doing. It's too short!

 I could buy the next size up, but maternity clothes are expensive and it just doesn't seem worth it when I can layer things a little.

I don't even want to think about how badly these clothes would fit if I were carrying twins.

I don't remember having this problem with my other daughters, but I was due in July and summer shirts during those years had a longer, blousey cut to them and I wore a lot of summer dresses because they were more comfortable than capris.

If you look closely at the two pictures, you can see the difference in the shape of the top of my belly. The pictures were taken about 15 minutes apart and during that time, she switched from head up (in the black shirt) to head down (in the stripes). Head down is much more comfortable for me and gives me a lot more breathing room!

The only other "noteworthy" mention would be my contractions, which have absolutely picked up in the last 4 days. Oh My Word. I'm having over a dozen a day and some are enough to have me running some of my hypnobabies phrases through my head because I simply can't do anything else until it subsides. These are normal for me and should make my labor easier, or at least the induction portion.

So here's to a few more weeks, we hope!

Zipping Along at 27 Weeks and a Bit

Dash and I have made it safely to 27 weeks.  With each day, her chances of surviving an early birth and having little to no long term problems associated with that get better.

Preparations for her arrival are in full swing. The baby clothes we've been given are all washed and put away. It looks like we may only need to pick up a couple of fleece play outfits and some baby leggings and she'll be set for the first few months.

My daughters have 3 different uncles whose names start with B. Last Saturday night, one of them came over and installed a much-appreciated electrical outlet in the basement so that I can plug my sewing machines and a lamp in without running a power strip around the corner from the outlet in the finished portion of our basement.  The space is small, but it is going to work beautifully.  In the next two days, it should be set up sufficiently so that I can start sewing diapers and a couple of other postnatal supplies that I'd like to have.

The normal minor aches and pains of pregnancy are slowly starting to settle in. The one I have the hardest time dealing with is that my hips start hurting when I sleep. It's deep in the joint, which makes me think it's likely the ischiofemoral ligament.

Ligaments in pregnancy soften to prepare for birth, so this isn't at all unusual, but it is painful at times. I roll over roughly every 90 to 120 minutes all night long because that pain wakes me up. "Roll over" is probably not the correct word. It's more like sit up, go to the bathroom not only because I need to but because walking eases the pain, drink some water, get back in bed while rearranging the pillows, then readjusting my position a little, and falling asleep as soon as I feel the baby moving again.

I've joked in the past that I get more sleep after the baby is born but it really is true. My girls both slept for 2-3 hours at a time within a week of their births, and if you've ever experienced sleep on either schedule, the difference between 90 minutes and 150 minutes is huge! I can actually feel rested if I get 2-3 hour stretches but the 90 minute ones feel almost useless.

But we're not ready for her to come, not yet. I really do want her to stay put, safely, until after Christmas.

At the growth scan last Thursday, Dash measured in at 2lbs 3oz, give or take a little. That puts her in the 64th percentile for growth, very close to the 69th she measured two weeks before and still well within the 10% margin of error most doctors will mention if you ask how accurate the growth scans are.

At my OB visit yesterday, my fundal height also measured just above 28 weeks, which matches what the ultrasound showed.

I decided to order a larger yoga ball. Although most of the charts I've seen show that a person my height should have a 65cm ball, even when it's fully inflated my knees are just above my hips, rather than being 2-3 inches below as is recommended for birthing.  The 75cm beauty is now inflated and getting some use, knowing it will need more air over the first few weeks.

I spent the majority of my day making freezer meals and canning chicken stock.  We have four new meals in the freezer, 9 quarts of chicken stock, and 10 pints of chicken broth. Last week I'd read an article about letting the bones simmer twice, rather than just once, and decided to give it a try. Even though the second batch only simmered for 18 hours, I was really impressed with the richness of the color and flavor.  I mixed the batches together and canned the quarts at full strength then diluted the remaining for the pints.

The flavor is light but very tasty!

A lovely little chair and ottoman popped up on a yard sale site and I bought those, too. It isn't a rocking set, but for Dash's room, I don't need to rock. The ottoman top lifts up to make a second small chair, which will give my older daughters a place to sit when they want to spend time with me and the baby.  If I understood the seller correctly, the chair had belonged to her grandmother and the design definitely seems old fashioned.

I love it. And as long as it holds up, it will get a lot of use!  Once we have the chair in it's place, I'll take pictures and share them.  I expect to spend many memorable moments in that chair!

Letter To My Unnamed Daughter

Dear Daughter,

Four days ago I saw the first 3D images of your beautiful face. Your oldest sister stood by my side, mirroring the awe I felt at seeing you resting so peacefully against our placenta. I took a picture of the computer screen and emailed it to your father, knowing he'd want to see you. The picture wasn't very clear, but we could see your delicate features in a way we hadn't been able to see before.

Your father and I are having a tough time coming up with a name for you. Both of your older sisters have names that are found within our ancestry. Your oldest sister shares the name of her great-great-aunt from my side of the family and your other sister's name is the same as a 3rd great-aunt from your father's side.

I'd like to choose another family name; one that suits you. We have called you Dash for about 5 months now, but that's not a name we want to use as your legal name, even if we do continue to call you Dash for years to come. 

This may come as a surprise, but I didn't name your sisters and it looks like I won't be coming up with your legal name, either. Your father named our first daughter and she named her first little sister! I definitely agreed to the names, but they weren't my idea.

There are two names that your father and I are thinking about for you. One is the name of one of my grandmothers and the other is a name your father thought of while we were sitting at Burger King after an appointment a couple weeks ago. I'm not totally in love with either name, but I wasn't totally in love with the name of your oldest sister when it was decided, either.

Names are things that have to grow on me, and that's just how it is. If your father could agree to let me call you Talia, I'd be thrilled. I love my name and wish I could share it with one of my children, but let's face it, our last name makes things a little harder because we don't want rhyming names and I'm not a big fan of alliterations, either.

So for now, you are Dash. 

My Dash

My rainbow after years of storms

The answer to thousands of prayers

The reason I can't sleep at night

The reason I can't stop smiling during the day

My Dash

Last night we celebrated your father's birthday with a few of our local relatives. He feels old and a little lost, and I know some of his emotions are being compounded by the stress of  our lives this last year. We never thought we'd be in our mid-to-late thirties and still trying to have children, wrestling with a tight budget, and worrying about our heater breaking (yes, ours did that this morning). As you grow up, please be kind to his worrying heart. Remind us with your smile and your hugs that there are more important things in life than how old we feel, how small our house is, and what our yard looks like.

Like your big sisters, you are doomed to watching football for the next 18 years. But if you are lucky, you'll learn to love the sport like they have and we can sit as a family and spend our Friday nights or Saturday afternoons rooting for the underdogs, cheering after an exceptional pass, and getting angry at the refs when they make a ridiculous call or don't call something we think they should have!

You will also watch hours upon hours of science fiction, historical fiction, classics, and documentaries. Your life will be filled with more books than you can imagine, too!

You will spend hours standing near your father's new globe (his present this year!) as he shows you where things are, how the solar system functions, and the places he's lived. When you ask how far away something is, we'll walk to the globe and I'll show you.

You will discuss politics, science, and religion with all of us during trips to the grocery store. You'll learn add and subtract during walks around the pond.

You will know that we love our Heavenly Parents and that we try each day to parents like them. You will see me cry, sometimes because I'm excited or happy, but sometimes they will be tears of frustration or sadness, too.

You will know that before you were conceived, you had a brother who didn't live until his birth. You will hear your big sisters talk about him. His name was Jackson. They miss him. I miss him, too. Sometimes even now as I sit in church, a hymn will be sung that reminds me of him and I will cry and you will see that. Hug me when you see those tears.  Remind me that I wouldn't have you if I hadn't lost him. 

Ask me questions. Easy questions. Hard questions. Silly questions. I love to teach, but I don't always know where to start. Your questions will give me a starting point. If you don't ask when you are young, I may not know how to answer when you are older.

Trust me. I don't make promises I can't keep. No means no and Yes means yes. Maybe is a toss up, as it's intended to be. I am honest. If you ask me something I don't know, I will let you know that I'm not sure. If something is multi-sided, I'll share my views and ask that you think about them, but encourage you to form an opinion of your own and hope that you'll always be open to changing your opinion as you learn new things.

Learn from the mistakes of those around you and be gentle with them. All of our actions have consequences but some are more obvious or more painful than others.  Remember that everyone has been given the right to choose for themselves and sometimes the choices of others will hurt you. Don't let that hurt become hate. Instead, use those experiences to strengthen those around you.

Study the scriptures and the teachings of modern day prophets and apostles. Heavenly Father hasn't put a prophet on the earth now so that we ignore him. He is here to guide us today and what he teaches is more applicable than the prophets who have passed, even recently. 

Remember that all church leaders also have the right to choose. They have their own opinions, views, and reasons for doing and saying what they choose. They don't always agree and that is okay. We have been created in the image of our Heavenly Parents, but that doesn't mean we will all think the same. However, each of them, like your father and I, are doing their best to follow the teachings of our Savior so that we can live with him, and with each other, when the time comes.

You have been given an opportunity that many other children are not given. You have a father and mother who are sealed for eternity in a temple of God and who live in a nation filled with freedoms that most of the world cannot even comprehend. The technology that has developed in my life has been amazing and I can only begin to imagine the wonderful things you may see and experience as you grow.

Without modern medicine, you would never have been able to join our family. Someday, I will show you pictures of the bruises from the injections I had to give myself twice a day so that my body would give yours a chance to grow. Those medicines are our lifeline, yours and mine.  It is such a simple medication, but without it, you would never have had a chance.

Dash, you are loved more than words can express by your father, your sisters, and me. Don't ever doubt how much we care for you or how often we pray for you. You aren't just our daughter, you are a daughter of God and that will give you more power and strength than anything we could teach you.

We'll try to teach you everything we know so that you can know all the things we've learned. 

But first, let's see if we can find a name for you . . .

26 Weeks and Road Trip Rundown

Another week has come and gone and this one was filled with different activities than usual for our little family.

We are huge BYU Football fans and have been for years. Although I wasn't able to attend my first game until I was 17 and a freshman at BYU, I have attended as many games as possible since then, including traveling to Charlottesville, VA, for the game in August 2013.  We weren't able to attend the game earlier this season against UConn, but we made sure to plan this trip against Middle Tennessee State and only a major crisis was going to keep us from going.

As I mentioned before, Dr. H told us I needed to get up and walk every hour during the drive.  It was roughly 600 miles each way to middle Tennessee, with a couple hundred miles even on the "local" days.  We did well with regular stops on the way down, but the remaining 3 days were a little harder.  I paid close attention to how I felt and how the baby was moving and we never went more than an hour and a half between stops.

The weather was unseasonably cold and windy, with a dusting of snow that fell Friday night. Prior to the snowfall, we'd made a quick detour to the nearest Target to purchase hats and gloves for us womenfolk and I'm so glad we did!

The game was a nice victory after a series of deflating losses but it was sad to lose what felt like the last of our star players for the season to a multi-part knee injury. Injuries have plagued our team this season, leaving us without half of the starters from the beginning of the year.

By the time we got to IHOP for some dinner and hot chocolate, the girls were too tired to eat much.

Our trip wasn't just about football. My grandfather and my father-in-law have a similar passion for family history and while my grandfather has, at times, paid a historian to find many of the names of our ancestors, my father-in-law has done all of the work himself.

For as long as I can remember, my husband has spoken fondly of his great-great-grandfather, who fought in the Civil War with his brother. They were from Jackson County, Tennessee and Watson Terry returned home after the war and married the girl next door.

Literally!

My husband and his father had visited middle Tennessee about 14 years ago but at the time, they did not know where Watson and his wife were buried.  This time, they knew.

We woke Friday morning to a cold, misty day. It was Halloween, but somehow as we walked towards the small cemetery where they were laid to rest, it seemed sacred. I let our 4 year old take pictures of the headstones with my camera, knowing that someday those photos would mean something to her, although for that day it was just something she would enjoy doing to pass the time.

Watson and his wife are my daughters' 3rd great grandparents. On the property adjacent to the cemetery of the Terry's was the Allen plot, where Watson's in-laws were buried.  It took a few minutes, but we found the marker for my daughters' 4th great grandfather.

There's something reverent about cemeteries, especially when you know that you are a direct descendent of those buried beneath your feet.  And I thought about Dash, knowing that these were her ancestors, too.

I believe that the spirits of unborn babies mix their time between being in the body being formed for them and being in heaven with those who have already passed on and those who have yet to come to earth. The dream I had about our son and my mother last fall aligns with my belief, even though I have nothing else to really base my belief on. It just is.

In my Hypnobabies course, one of the exercises is to build a Special Place. As I built mine, I realized I had built a Celestial Room, like those in LDS Temples. The carpets are almost white and embossed with gothic arches, the walls are filled with mirrors, and there are 3 large crystal chandeliers in my special place. And each time I enter this room, I am wearing my temple robes and my mother, grandmother, and two of my great-grandmothers are there. Sometimes Dash is there, too, but she's all grown up and her features are indistinct.  It's more of Dash's presence that I feel and see than in a physical form.  But my mother and the other women who've impacted my life are there quite clearly.

Knowing my ancestors means so much to me. I feel very blessed to have known so many of my great grandparents. There is even a small memory of the drive home from my great-great-grandfather's funeral when I was 4 years old.

I hope my children can appreciate what it meant to be there on Friday, taking pictures next to the gravestones of their direct line ancestors.

Travel Essentials

The last few days have had me pondering, in the mildest sense of the word, how to handle my injections during our upcoming road trip.

For a normal pregnant woman, the main concerns tend to be food, water, and restrooms.

I still have all those concerns, but add to that the mandatory walk-break every hour as well as how to manage injections in a timely fashion and I was left wondering . . .

But I think I have it figured out. The kicker is that those around me are just going to have to understand that when my injection alarm goes off, it means I have to stop whatever I'm doing, find a seat if possible, and do my shot.

My great-grandfather, John Albert Smuin (Grandpapa!) used to give his insulin injections right through his pants. As a child, I thought that was great fun!!  As an adult, I realize that he did it for convenience--his went in his thigh--and because it tended to shock people, which I swear he enjoyed. I might have inherited just a teeny bit of that from him!

My injections can't be done through my clothes.  Well, they could, but I'd risk infection and that's not a risk I can take.  Grandpapa was already getting on in years and facing multiple health problems, so I'm pretty sure that infections were pretty low on his list of concerns.

Bathrooms don't usually have chairs in them and I'm supposed to do my injections laying down, although I have been doing them reclining since Dash's heart-stopping moment a couple of months ago so those around me will just need to look away if they are at all squeemish about watching a woman pinch her love handles or tummy, rub it down with an alcohol wipe, then inject.

And while I hope that nobody in our travel party or in areas surrounding us is offended, my biggest concern is for my baby, so I will do what needs to be done, wherever I am. I just hope that if I'm in the van that the roads are smooth because going over a bump with a needle in your side wouldn't be fun!!

Now, how to pack my supplies?  After some thought, I decided to use my hiking wetbag. This is a small, zippered bag that I sewed a couple of years ago. The bag is leak proof, washable, and already had two helpful items in it: toilet paper and my pStyle. I simply added a couple of my injections, all of my alcohol wipes, and a supply of bandages for the inevitable small bleed.

Viola! My wetbag is now more of a hazardous waste bag, since it will contain my shots as I finish them as well as the pStyle, although I hope I don't need to use that! I will replenish my injections each morning and I always keep a spare loosey-goosey in my purse.

The last thing I needed to figure out was my seemingly endless supply of oral medications and supplements. I found one of my pill organizers and since I ran out of my omega fatty acid supplement a few days ago, everything else barely fit.  Two of my supplements are liquids with droppers, so I'll just have to take those as-is. The bottles are small, so they won't take up much room.  I just need to be careful since they're both glass and I don't trust the droppers to be leak-proof if the bottles get tipped.

I grew up in a family of light packers, so it drives me just a bit batty to have a bag, however little, of supplies like this. Even my make-up bag is smaller. Do you want to know what it contains? Mascara, two small eye shadows, and a brush for application. That's it!

My toiletries bag? Oh, I don't have one of those. My hair only gets washed once every 7-8 days so I don't need any cleansers. This leaves my toothbrush, hairbrush, probiotic deodorant, and toothpaste to rest nicely but loosey-goosey in my luggage.

So yes, I'm a light packer in general so this whole "bring an entire box of injections" thing is annoying because it takes up So Much Room. =)

Is it the Turmeric?

Last Thursday when I posted regarding growth percentiles, I mentioned that my doctor had asked about any dietary changes I'd made and I couldn't think of anything significant, but Sunday night as I sat filling little veggie caps full of turmeric and ginger with my little funnel and a small spoon, I realized that I was eating something different!

Well, not eating so much as ingesting in pill form because let's face it: turmeric tastes like dirt.

I'd read in multiple locations that turmeric was one of the most anti-inflammatory spices available, so when I saw it at the grocery store about a month ago I decided to pick some up, intending to try cooking with it.

If you'd like to read more about turmeric's health benefits, read here and here.

However, none of the recipes I found seemed at all appetizing, or they involved rice, which I am not supposed to be eating.  So in a moment of rare clarity, I decided to use my "sitting in the cupboard doing nothing since I'm no longer ingesting essential oils" capsules and make my own turmeric pills.

My kind of DIY

Handy little funnel

Turmeric and Ginger capsules

So here we are, a month later, with "unexplainable" increased growth in my baby.

Am I saying for sure that it is the turmeric that made the changes? No, but it is the only thing dietary change that I made and when you combine that with the knowledge that my clotting problem is related to inflammation, it would make logical sense for me to conclude that the turmeric is the reason for the change.

My little 0.95oz bottle of turmeric was under $1. It is, hands down, the cheapest supplement I've ever taken! I will continue to take it for months to come, or until my family as a whole can learn to cook meals with fewer of the inflammatory foods on the menu.

**If you didn't get a chance to read either of the links on turmeric, I recommend doing some internet research of your own.**

25 Weeks

As I attempted to sleep last night, I realized that most women would reach 25 weeks and think "15 weeks left, give or take a little."

Not me! "I can do another 8 weeks. Come on, body, you can do this!"

And so far, my body and the baby are cooperating, so I'm going to keep thinking positive as best as I can.

Every 3 to 4 nights I have a night where my anxiety really does get to me and before I went to bed last night, I could sense the pending storm. Dash was quiet during the night, but not so quiet as to cause some of the full panic attacks I've had in the past that leave me hurrying downstairs to my rocking chair and doppler for a heartbeat check. I was able to lay in bed and practice my Hypnobabies breathing and an anesthesia technique that allowed me to sleep for what amounted to several 90 minutes stretches.

So it wasn't a great night's sleep by any means, but I made it through with what felt like only a few loose shutters, rather than having my mental home washed out to sea.

My husband and I were both very busy the last two days and I feel like I've barely seen him. I don't like those days very much, especially when they're back-to-back. Tonight we'll have more time together and I'm looking forward to it, even if it will be a busy evening. We meet with our chiropractor again (hallelujah!) and then will be doing dinner at Costco along with gassing up the van and getting a few supplies for an upcoming road trip.

Our daughters are excited about this trip. The youngest keeps trying to compare it to our quick trip to North Carolina back in May, but telling her the drive is twice as long doesn't seem to be settling in for her, and our trip to Palmyra, NY back in July must have felt much shorter to her, since that trip never gets mentioned. Perhaps by the 400th mile she realize that a long trip really does mean long??

Who am I kidding, she'll be asking "Are we there yet?" before our second get-out-and-stretch break.

And in another 8 weeks, friends and family can start asking me something similar: Is Dash here yet??

But until then, the Bump grows so my shirts are getting shorter, the hips are starting to ache at night, and her knees, elbows, and feet are starting to poke in distinct places. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Fetal Growth Percentiles

One of the aspects of "growing children" that I find personally fascinating is growth percentiles.
These percentile measurements begin in the second trimester and continue all through childhood as a way of monitoring growth, both height and weight.

My interest in percentiles began in high school when my first standardized testing scores came in the mail. I had scored between 95th and 99th percentile in every category and wanted to know what that meant.

In the simplest terms, it meant that in any given group of approximately 100 students, my scores were better than 95-99 of them. I was pretty pleased with myself, to say the least!

Once I entered the second trimester of my first pregnancy, I began to follow my daughter's fetal growth in terms of percentiles.  She tended to measure well above the 80th percentile and even after birth, has been consistently on the tall side for her age group. I realize this won't last through puberty (she is not destined to be 6 feet tall), but it has been a lot of fun being the mom to "the tall kid".

Her younger sister, on the other hand, has always measured below the 60th percentile.  Even now at 4 years of age, her height and weight remain in the 40th to 50th percentile. She's my averaged sized kid, even if she seems so tiny to me!

My last growth scan was 3 weeks ago.  I mentioned in that post that Dash was measuring in the 40th percentile and although it made me a little uncomfortable to have her on the lower half of the growth chart, I wasn't too concerned because my second child is smaller.

Fetal Growth Chart

Well, that has all changed. . . for the better!

To calculate percentiles in fetal growth, several methods can be used. The methods I'm most familiar with include measuring the length of the femur, the circumference of the abdomen, and head circumference. The measurements are put into formulas that calculate the percentile for each as well as an overall measurement.

They can also be used to estimate fetal weight.  Today, Dash's measurements put her at 760 grams, or 1 lb 10 oz. For someone who has no idea how that compares based on her expected growth, the percentile measurement gives me information that is more relevant to my knowledge base: 69th percentile.

The technician and doctor were both thrilled and wanted to know if I'd made any dietary changes to have allowed my daughter to grow so much and other than being very diligent about taking all my vitamins and supplements, I couldn't think of anything.

Dr. Hamersley gave me the choice of coming in again in either 2 weeks or 3 weeks for our next growth scan. Because Dash's growth hasn't been incredibly consistent, I chose to go with 2 weeks. She's once again measuring a few days ahead, which is where I'd like her to stay.

We also discussed our road trip protocol. My husband and I were clearly instructed! I am to get out of the van and walk around (doesn't have to be long) every hour. This means we'll be setting a timer and simply taking the next exit so I can get out and walk around the van a few times before climbing right back in and getting right back on the road. Chances are good that every other stop will also include a quick trip to the bathroom for any and all in the vehicle who need to stop, but there's no need to do a full bathroom stop every hour.

Compression stockings aren't needed, but I've been instructed to wear my belly band. It needs to be snug enough to provide support and lift, but not so snug as to leave marks.

The final bit of news has to do with Dash's positioning. Again, the news was good. Today she was not only head down, but also facing my spine, which is the ideal position for birth. I know she'll continue to flip around for another couple of weeks, but she showed us today that she's at least willing to be head down and I hope that by continuing my stretches, she'll gain a preference for that position.

Now, I realize this is "out of place" but I found this comparative chart regarding outcomes for severely premature births. These are outcomes from the UK, not the US, for 1995 and 2006.

I'll let you make any conclusions you'd like from the chart. Enjoy!

24 Weeks

Here is my picture from yesterday . . .

Although the growth from week to week doesn't seem very big, if you go back a month or more you can see quite a bit of change.

I am adjusting to the fact that my pregnancy is winding down. My obstetrician informed me on Thursday that "We really only need 4 more weeks." Although having a baby at 28 weeks would mean an extended NICU stay, her chances of growing up healthy are really good thanks to all the improvements in neonatal care.

As much as I can hope to avoid a long hospital stay, it may be unavoidable.

Last night as I spoke to my husband, I confessed that although we always thought of raising 4 children, I'm not entirely sure I can take on the emotional toll of a 9th pregnancy. Monday night I had another anxiety attack. I laid there in bed, willing the baby to move in the hopes that it would calm me down, but it just wasn't happening. I ended up flying out of bed in a rush to just get out of my bedroom so I could focus on my breathing. Generally, once Dash is moving around well I calm right down but in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, that simply wasn't the case. It took over two hours for me to get to the point where I knew I could climb in bed and not disturb my husband with tossing and turning.

I must say I'm looking forward to the normal newborn worries. They feel like a cake-walk compared to what I've been dealing with the last 6 months.

Dash is most certainly growing bigger and stronger. Her kicks are higher and harder and I relish every single one of them. I don't know if she'll get big enough to kick my ribs, but I sure hope so. It hurts like mad but that will mean she's still in me and we're close to full term.

I've continued to do some of the Spinning Babies stretches and am moving through my Hypnobabies materials as well, so preparations for birth are continuing. On Saturday we toured the Birthing Inn, too.

For several months I've had the benefit of knowing I needed to do the tour, so I'd mentally prepared myself for it. Unfortunately, my husband wasn't anywhere near as prepared as I was and his emotions were palpable.

He and I both know we have the option of delivering at any number of hospitals in our extended area, including the one where our second daughter was born. My last experience at the Birthing Inn was obviously a pretty awful one, but my experience with my nurse there was amazing and I want her to help with my rainbow delivery. I know that when it comes right down to it, I'll have more interaction on delivery day with my nurse than with my OB, and Alicia was perfect. I want her there again and she knows that and has let me know that I can contact her when the time comes and she'll do everything she can to be with me.

My husband is coming with me tomorrow for our next growth scan with Dr. H. He hasn't come with me since my anatomy scan, so I'm excited to have him there again. Three weeks ago our little Dash looked so BIG compared to Jackson. It was shocking, actually, so I'm looking forward to the look on his face when he sees just how big our little girl is getting. (I'm assuming/hoping for awesome growth when I make that statement.)

In addition, we'll be asking about our road trip protocol. Yes, we're going on a road trip to the BYU @ MTSU football game while I'm 25 weeks pregnant. That's 631 miles from home. With stops, it will likely take 11 hours.

We need to know the following:

• Will I need compression stockings? 
• How often do we need to stop so I can walk? 
• How long should those walks be? 
• What should my water consumption be? 
• How do we manage our fast food stops? Are some options better than others?
• While at the game, is there anything I need to be cautious about?
• What do we do if something comes up and I need medical help (besides call 911)?

So my dear spouse can get all those answers too, and he'll understand just what is expected and why.

Here's to one more week down, and at least 4 more to go!!

23 Weeks and the Chiropractor

Another day has come and gone. The days are flying by but the weeks seem to be crawling.

Today is the next milestone. At 23 weeks, my baby could be saved if I were to go into labor. She needs a few more weeks for my local hospital, but Inova Fairfax saves babies who have reached 23 weeks gestation.

Not that I want Dash making an appearance any time soon. I really am hoping to get to at least 29 weeks, but 35 would be even better!

I already know she's just a little on the small side, the the longer she has to grow in me, the better!

My anxiety Monday night was, quite honestly, out of control. I laid in bed for over an hour, hoping for the slightest movement but she was either not in a good position for me to feel her, or she was simply sleeping longer than normal.

I was able to keep my own breathing and heart rate under control, so it was quite a surprise to clock Dash's heartbeat at 160 bmp. Her normal is 140-145 bpm. So although she was certainly alive (and I could hear some minor movements with the doppler, too), it was clear that I needed to calm down quickly.

My own adrenaline was making her heart race and that just isn't good.

At all!

Try as I might, I wasn't able to fully settle down and relax until about 3pm, when her movements picked up their usual pattern. However, I know her heart rate was back to it's normal range around noon, because I checked it once the children were sleeping.

I have a few theories about why she seemed so still Monday night and into Tuesday morning. They're theories however, and I can't prove them.

I've begun doing a few Spinning Babies exercises. These are designed to help a mom and her baby work together to get into the ideal positioning for birth. They can also relieve many of the aches and pains associated with pregnancy.

One of the exercises is simply getting on my hands and knees and arching my back up, creating a "hammock" of sorts for Dash. The result is that she flips so that her back is against my belly and her feet and hands face my insides. In addition to relaxing my abdominal muscles, this positional switch means that much of her movement is muffled by our placenta. She needs to face my spine for an easier birth.

For now, she has plenty of room to move however she pleases, but it would be great if she could develop a preference for the ideal birthing position so that as she grows and runs out of room to flip around, she's in the correct position and not breech.

Fast forward to Tuesday evening, when my family and I went to our chiropractor. He's an amazing man who keeps up to date not just on spinal care and manipulation, but also on many of the things that impact health at the source. He believes in treating causes, not symptoms.

My 8 year old was diagnosed with scoliosis earlier this summer. She's using a device called a cantilever to manipulate her spine and retrain her muscles as well as taking some supplements to balance her neurotransmitters.

Her x-rays show some pretty remarkable improvement over the last 6 weeks.

At a recent conference, Dr. Randy learned more about spinal cord shortening in youth. He did a quick test on my daughter last night, which showed that she had some shortening and gave us a stretch for us to help her do.

He then started talking about a gene mutation that affects the body's ability to process folic acid and how parts of the scientific community are coming to realize just how devastating this mutation can be. The mutation (which I'm familiar with!) is known as MTHFR. It also appears that this mutation has a direct impact on neurotransmitters.

MTHFR is a mutation that approximately 40% of the American population has at least one copy of. But the part I find most fascinating? Roughly 98% of those with Autism Spectrum Disorder have the mutation.

Call me nuts, but don't you think that matters?!??

Testing for MTHFR is standard practice in the repeat pregnancy loss blood panel that I had run in June 2013. It showed that I do not have the mutation. Phew! It's a mutation that is well known in the infertility and pregnancy loss community because it really impacts fertility.

In a nutshell, when we consume folic acid, or vitamin B9, our bodies should create an enzyme as part multi-step process to build proteins and other usable and necessary compounds in our bodies. But if you have one or two copies of the MTHFR mutation, that multi-step process is broken because the enzyme either doesn't work well or isn't there. The result is a build-up of folic acid (and a few other things) in the body that poisons you.

That poisoning takes on a variety of forms, but just how important this mutation is is only beginning to come to light.

To know if either of my daughters has the mutation I'd need to have their blood drawn, which is something I will do at their next check-up. In the meantime, I'll be doing what I can to ensure they are getting adequate levels of l-methylfolate (the final compound in the multi-step process I mentioned before) and not folic acid.

So fortified cereals are out and the vitamins they take will also be monitored closely until we know for sure that they don't have a copy of the mutation. They'd have one copy, at MOST, since I have none.

It was then my turn to be adjusted. I gave Dr. Randy a rundown of the night and day that I'd had as well as talking about my spinning babies research and their mention of the psoas muscle.  He's stretched my psoas twice before. It's horribly uncomfortable to have done, but the results feel pretty amazing and now I have additional information that states this stretching will need to be done if Dash is going to get into the proper position in the weeks to come.

He also took a look at my soft palate in response to my anxiety. I don't know what he saw, but based on his observation, he gave me a printout of left-brain activities to do. These should help balance the neurological impact of the anxiety I'm having, which appears to be triggered by my right-brain.

It's all about balance.

The activities are going to be pretty fun. One includes listening to music with a strong beat, not country, classical, or jazz, with only my earbud in the right ear for 10 minutes twice a day. Sound crosses brain hemispheres, so this activates the left brain. I'm also to work out some basic math problems on paper as well as doing two more physical activities that are very short and involve my eyes. I almost laughed at the math activities. I adore math so this will be a matter of doing my 8 year old daughter's homework on separate paper before she does it. Easy Peasy, but if it helps calm me down so that Dash can also stay healthy, then it'll be worth the silliness.

Dash doesn't need all the extra adrenaline running through her system.

By the time my spinal adjustment and muscles were stretched, I felt so much better. I slept really well, too, and it's clear that Dash had a better night as well. She wiggled and stretched often enough to keep me calm and sleeping well.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today is October 15th, International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  Around the globe, men and women are lighting candles in honor of their babies.

Katie Allison Granju once wrote of her loss: 

Who will I be in the future when the unholy, unbearable pain that now rips and tears at me every waking minute fades into a more chronic, dull, lifetime ache?

I know that I will be different — forever. Just … different.  I can tell you already that losing my child is an experience so profoundly disorienting that I suddenly feel like a Martian among humans.

Yes, I have been rerouted to Mars. And there doesn’t appear to be quite enough air up here.

Until recent times, I believe it was fairly common for parents to bury a child due to illness or stillbirth, but there was no word to describe such a parent. But even if it was common, it still goes against reason. Our children should not precede us in death and our children should have the chance to live their lives outside the womb.

A birthday should never come after the day of death.

A widow is someone who has buried their spouse. It means "empty" in Sanskrit. As time continues forward, and with the help of social media, the word "vilomah" is being used to describe us, those who have lost children. It means "against a natural order".

I am a vilomah

I wonder about the color of their eyes

I hear the echos of my sobbing

I see their imprint on my life

I want others to know they are not alone

I am a vilomah

I pretend that I am strong

I feel like my pain matters only to those who know it

I touch my belly and remember

I worry that this baby will never see my face

I cry when I think of her lost siblings

I am a vilomah

I understand my past does not predict my future

I say I'm taking things one day at a time

I dream of nursing all my children

I try to remain calm in the face of harsh realities

I hope I can be strong

I am a vilomah

Friendship . . . Or the Post I Have No Idea What to Title

For the last couple of months, this feeling has been stuck in the pit of my stomach and I haven't been able to figure it out.

After conversing briefly with an online friend, I finally realized what it was.

So on top of the anxiety and the fear and the hormones, I realized today that I'm lonely. I hope that if I can number the ways I'm lonely, I can also find a way to reverse some of the causes.

1. Most of the women in my infertility groups have at most one living child. I have 2. And any time I mention either of them, I feel guilty that I've not been content with having the 2 that I have.  That I've lost 5 other babies and been on this rollercoaster for over 11 years doesn't seem to weigh as significantly as the knowledge that I have two perfectly healthy daughters to these women. It comes out in the wording of their comments and I'm not so blind or out of touch as to not pick up on their subtleties.

2. I'm afraid to talk to my husband about the baby. It feels like he has done everything he can to distance himself from this pregnancy to protect himself. I understand his need to distance himself after what he also went through with our son, but it has left me feeling an overwhelming burden to leave him alone when I'd rather sit in his arms and cry or let him feel the joy I have in those moments where Dash is letting me know with every possible movement that she's there, she's alive, and she doesn't plan to go anywhere anytime soon.

3. The women who were pregnant with me and didn't meet a similar tragic end all get to hold their babies each night. They're posting picture after picture of their beautiful and growing bundles of joy and I see them and think about the moments I had to hold my son while being horrendously afraid that I won't get to hold a healthy little girl in the coming months. I have no such pictures to share and that hurts.

4. The new "crop" of pregnant women in one of the groups I'm in seems to have a different child-rearing and prenatal care philosophy than I and the group of "pregnant-together with Jackson" seem to have shared. Each time I try to offer my thoughts, I feel attacked. It's sort of like "I spent years trying to get pregnant and now I'm going to take what I feel is the easy way out so keep your 8+ years of motherhood and 11+ years of health research out of my way. I don't want to listen to it."

5. Let's face it: the number of close friends I have that live locally is Zero. This isn't exactly new to me--all of my closest friendships (apart from my husband and our best man) have been long distance. Even as a child I wasn't the kind to keep a friend very close on an emotional level. It's just not my style. Or it was, but I got burned pretty badly one too many times and learned that distance was less painful. The hard part is that sometimes I really do want that friend, the one who can read between the lines and come knocking on my door to take me out to lunch, or give me a hug, or go for a walk around the lake. But there isn't one within a 1,000 mile radius.

6. Here's the big one: I miss my mother. Horribly. Painfully. Daily. And I miss my dad, too. I realized last night that I hadn't heard from him in 6 weeks. I have no idea why. In the last couple of years he's become very distant. He doesn't always answer text messages, rarely returns phone calls, and never emails unless it's something very "businessy".  After over a year of feeling like an afterthought, I've come to the realization that I'm not that important to him and neither are my children. It hurts. I don't know how much of his distance is related to the loss of my mother and how much is his balancing his newish marriage and trying to get to know his stepkids.  But I do know that I'm tired of trying to find parental support on those rare occasions when I feel I need it and finding that I don't matter enough for a returned phone call.

So yes, I'm lonely. I have tried seeking help from a therapist on several occasions but find that nobody wants to take insurance anymore and someone who understands the framework of my religious beliefs as well as that of pregnancy loss is impossible. My budget isn't so loosey goosey that I can fly to Utah, where such therapists actually exist.

And I'm not allowed to fly, anyway.

What to do . . . what to do . . .

1. Recognize that my hormones sometimes get totally out of control. Today is one of those days, but at least it helped me to pinpoint an emotion I hadn't been able to pin over the last few months.

2. Leave the mommy-to-be group. I deleted the majority of my comments and posts and left the group. There's a decent chance I won't be missed (like I said, the current crop has very different feelings about things than the group I joined with last year!) and I'm totally okay with that.

3. I can't bring my mother back, but I can wait patiently for my mother-in-law to retire (less than 2 years!) so that I don't feel like I'm bugging her in the meantime when I feel the need for mature support. She's not Mom, but she's absolutely wonderful and I'm so very lucky to have her in my life.

4. I'm not sure what to do about my husband. He values his emotional independence just as much I do and has been that way for as long as I've known him, and based on family stories, has been that way his whole life. He has a lot of things on his plate besides just worries about Dash, and I respect that. But I think he and I also need to sit down at some point and start talking and planning for the months ahead. For one, Dash needs a real name and I'd prefer she have one picked out before she's born. I just need to find the emotional and physical strength to get the conversation started.

5. Everyone experiences loneliness at some point in their lives. Just because I feel alone doesn't mean that I am. I still have my Heavenly Father and even if he's all I've got, he's the best to have.

Saturday was a bit of a lazy morning and I didn't shower until about noon. When I stepped into the shower, I had every intention of spending the rest of my day watching Once Upon a Time. By the time I was grabbing my towel, I knew I was going to the temple instead. My husband took a look at my dress when I went down to the basement and knew exactly where I was headed, knowing it was clearly something I needed to do.

While there, I intended to spend my time and thoughts focusing on strength for me, something that is fairly normal for Latter-day Saints to do at the temple.  Instead, my thoughts kept turning back to another mother in my ward. Her trials make mine look like a cake-walk. So instead of praying for myself and my baby girl, I prayed for Ann.

My loneliness may take time to heal, and it will likely take some significant effort on my part, but at least now I know what I have to deal with, and that's always half the battle.

On a side note, it is totally possible that some of what I'm experiencing is postpartum depression . . .

Knock Knock. . . Ring!

My doorbell was rung right after a distinct knock this morning.

UPS came!

I never get a delivery unless I've ordered it myself so I knew exactly what it was.

HOMEWORK!

Last week, with Dash measuring close to a pound, it was time to commit to my goal of another epidural-free delivery. I researched several methods and decided to go with Hypnobabies.

FYI: The comb covering my address was made in a 3D printer by my 8 yr old

They take their piracy and return policy pretty seriously.

But I'm committed.

My intro letter.

An enrollment form for me to return to them.

And my homework!

If my research is correct, I will have half an hour of listening to do each day in addition to the reading materials.

Naptime begins in about an hour and my studying will begin. After the night I had last night (almost no sleep) I hope there is something - - anything! - - to help me get some rest. Even on anxiety free nights I can't seem to sleep.

Dash was having a solo dance party last night, so I certainly wasn't anxious about her last night.

I managed 5 minute snippets until around 12:30, at which point I tossed on some pjs and headed down to the rocking chair. Every little noise was keeping me awake, and I'm fairly certain my 8 year old was having a rough night, too, because her bed kept creaking as she squirmed in it. Even from the main level of my home the noises I kept hearing were bothering me, so I put on some headphones and turned on Pandora. 

Normally, those kinds of noises wouldn't keep me awake, but it seems that is not going to be the case for several months. I can't stay up like that every night, even if reading the Birth Without Fear stories swelled my heart with joy.

I need sleep! The Natural Calm Dr. H recommended is helping with the anxiety and keeping my bowels moving, but not sleep.

And I'm exhausted.