Nobody knows...

I'm such an open and public person.  I'm generally the total opposite of private in daily life.  I'm perfectly ok with sharing my life's on-goings with moderately acquainted strangers.  I'm not generally inclined to talk about my deep, dark secrets.  However, there's not many of those anyway.  So, overall I don't have much to hide.  My mother sees this as a fault of mine, but I tend to disagree. It's part of my charm, see.  I'm what people call "sincere" in every sense of the word.  Sometimes I can sense how she feels though, when I see Ian over-sharing with people I assume to be strangers.  I agree it is usually better to keep quiet, because as I've learned in life, the more you put out there, the more ammunition for which people have to hurt you.  However, my general friendly nature and my chatty inclinations usually steer me away from keeping too many things secret, especially from those who know me well.

Ian and I have managed, however, to keep our current secret pretty quiet.  I suppose since I'm blogging about it, that it no longer constitutes as a secret.  However, I find it hard to believe anyone other than Ian or my mother continue to read a blog about a pregnancy of mine that no longer exists.  I haven't much advertised that I continue to blog about motherhood because, well no one really knows our secret.

We're trying to conceive.  We're actively trying to get pregnant.  We've been having sex way before we were supposed to after the miscarriage and have continued to have unprotected sex in hopes of an extra-fertile window of opportunity post baby loss.  I finally got my period last week, which as Ian stated "...is a good thing, because now we can officially start trying." He's right.  Even though I hated buying another box of tampons instead of getting that prenatal vitamin prescription filled, that ovulation predictor kit that I bought last month will finally be put to use!  In just a few days I'll be able to start tracking all that important information about my body.

It took almost a year of unprotected sex and stars aligning to get pregnant.  Even among my cystic ovaries and endometrial-lined uterus, we managed to fertilize the little egg inside me.  However, since it did take a year, we haven't told anyone that we are actively trying just in case we miss the mark. Just in case we take extra long to conceive or I manage to get pregnant again and have complications. Whatever the case may be, I won't be making the same mistake twice.  I'll be waiting for the end of my first trimester to start spreading the news.  Unless, that is, you read my blog and figure it out.

I'm continuing to plan my wedding in the midst of it all. I don't care if I'm big and fat and all belly on my wedding day. I'll be standing next to the man I love with a beautiful blessing of a child growing inside me. I'll still enjoy that honeymoon in the caribbean we're having so much fun planning.  I'll still dance to Frank Sinatra and drink champagne on my wedding day. I'll be there with my mother, father, and grandmother by my side cheering me on every step of the way. I'm am and will continue to be happy and that's all that matters.

you left me as quickly as you came...

I lost you, baby.  I lost you in the early hours of June 16th, 2011.  I remember it like it was yesterday, despite it being almost a month ago.

I woke up around 4am with an odd feeling, gurgling deep in my lower belly. It was something I had not experienced for what seemed like eons, but had actually been around 2 months.  I had diarrhea.  This struck me as strange, considering I had been so constipated since I found out I was pregnant.  It was the one thing holding fast and true, reminding me of the little life draining all the fluid and nutrients from my body.  I chocked it up to the turkey burgers Ian had fixed for dinner.  Maybe he had undercooked them? I thought to myself...

I awoke the next morning. Business as usual. Excited and nervous for what I had hoped to be the last ultrasound I would have for a while.  Little did I know what I was wishing for that morning.  There was no heartbeat. Somewhere around 9-10 weeks, your life left me. You left me as quickly as you came. I never met you, but I had loved you so much. You consumed my thoughts and my life from the moment I realized I was going to have you. You were a blessing, a miracle, a true wonder and joy. You had given me something I had longed for, for so long...the excitement and anticipation of motherhood.

I'll always miss you and think of you. You're still with me, I know it.  Although I've never had to encounter the passing of a loved one, you were my loss.  I still mourn you.  It's soon, still. You would have been 3 months on Sunday.  I'll try to remember that you're with God and that you'll be with the next angel that comes down to join our family.  January 22nd will never be the same ever again.