Words for Wednesday : Ouch. That stings.

My little sister stopped by yesterday with her son after they were done doing the aquarium at the Mall of America.

I honestly do not know what our conversation was about, but in general, I am someone who does not like things done wrong.  Something my dad would say as we were growing up, "Anything worth doing, is worth doing well."  And I was probably talking the Hubster doing something wrong, and being annoyed with it, and then talking about when we went camping and his friend's parenting style.  And wrapped it up with how we sat through my step-son's high school graduation ceremony, and if I ever have a kid, I might try to talk them out of walking across that stage.   (For 320 kids, it was almost 2 hours long.)

After I make those remarks, she says, "Amy, you really shouldn't have kids. Seriously."

Oh, well, good thing that I have not been able to maintain a pregnancy, any my current cycle time is going on 41 days.

Words for Wednesday

I am a recently married 31 year old female, who would like to have a full term pregnancy, which would result in a small crying tiny thing resembling a person.

With that having been typed, do you know how crappy the wait for my monthly week of torture (okay, like three days, but who's counting?) is.. well, torture in itself.

I want coffee. And alcohol. And a sushi roll or two.

See, if there were a reason, it wouldn't be so bad. But, currently, no actually, known reason. And when Mother Nature decides to show on up, I'm going to be let down. 1- because it sadly confirms that I am not with child, and 2- I had to skip yummy stuff for no actual reason.

I have had 2 miscarriages, not uncommon, I know.

The first one was harder than the second, I didn't 'feel' pregnant anymore, but didn't have an appointment for another 4 weeks. I showed up at the Dr. With a brave face, broke down in the room, lady confirmed, and sent me to the ultrasound techs to get it for sure confirmed. I would have been 12 weeks. It had refused to evacuate in its own.

When they did the D & C, they sent it to pathology, and determined it was a molar pregnancy. If you don't know what that means, basically, 2 sperm buddies broke into the egg, instead of 1. Which apparently can cause cancer, and you are told do NOT get pregnant for at minimum of 1 year.

Two weeks later my Gram Cracker lost her fight with (originally) stomach cancer.

That year ended in August 2012.

Engaged in September, married in November, and ready to take on this challenge.

First chance was successful! Yay! Took the pregnancy test at home, on December 15th, took another. And called the Dr. on Monday, blood test to confirm. Then sent on Thursday to get an ultra sound for photos to make sure it was an itty bitty thing, and not Cancer. And it was confirmed an itty bitty being! How cool!

I set up my next required ultra sounds, and Dr. appointments for 3 months.

Christmas Eve comes, I am sitting at early midnight mass with my husband on one side, and his mom on the other, and I start cramping. Through service it gets worse. I knew.

We got out of mass, went to brother in law's house, searched out pads, and Tylenol until we returned home 3 days later..

Merry Christmas. I have never really liked Christmas anyways.

So here I am, waiting, hoping, trying to be positive. But will be quite sad if I'm not. I will drown my sadness in a large white chocolate mocha 'moosed' at caribou if needed.